Have you ever felt you knew someone, a sense of deja vu, but couldn’t remember from where?

Carrots. Carrots!

Remembering I needed carrots, I leave the cashier’s register, dash back to the produce section and quickly find the sign boasting ‘Today’s Special’ – freshly picked carrots. Reaching over them for a bag of smaller, bite-size carrots, my hand passes over the large carrots with green stems. My fingers barely graze the slightly dirty orange skin and large ridged, conical-shaped carrots when suddenly, my mind casts back into a kaleidoscope of images, smells, and sounds, and I hear echoes of a voice, and my body responds, unbidden, to a command:

“Beg.”

An overwhelming deep sensation of heat and wetness erupts between my thighs, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe. My legs fail me; I slump to the floor, still holding the crumpled shopping list in my hand. My eyes close, my head falls back as I lie shuddering, and from my throat, hear an unmistakable moan of pleasure.

Then nothing, blackness.

Slowly, I become aware of the smell of floor cleaner, music, murmured voices, and dampness under my skirt. Strong, gentle hands lift my head to rest it on something softer than the cold floor. Looking up, I seem to recognize the voice and eyes above the face mask, but cannot remember from where…the coffee shop, at work, the gym, the bank – where have I seen those eyes?

“Hi, there! Welcome back to us. How do you feel? Would you like to sit up?”

So many questions coming from his facial half-mask. A friendly tone and cadence resonate in his voice. I have my own questions, lots of them, the first being: what the fuck just happened and why am I on the floor? I still can’t place his eyes or voice, but both are oddly soothing.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine, really.”

I try to push myself up, and his strong hands support my efforts until I am sitting with my back leaning against a wooden crate holding fresh corn. Large, blue-green pools for eyes, searching my face…so tantalizingly familiar, mesmerizing, and…puzzled, as if he too, were trying to remember.

Where do I know you from? I wonder. I’ve seen those eyes recently, within the last six months. I know I have.

Flashes of images, of feeling comfortable, yet nervous arousal course through me. Oh, this is going to haunt me until I figure it out…wait, what did he just say? Oh, crap! He was talking to me! Panic mode, panic mode activated! I try to focus on the last thing I heard…

“…so I suggest that you go to your regular doctor, just to be sure. When was the last time you ate something or drank some water?”

He sounds so professional, calm and in control, so sure of himself as he kneels at my side, taking my pulse. Clearing my throat and finding my voice, I stutter,

“Oh, oh, um, me? I, ah, I had a breakfast bar right after my morning walk with some tea.”

“Good girl,” he says, patting my hand.

A shock of recognition runs through me, and I suddenly realize I am getting even more aroused. I am pushing myself against the hard, flat surface of the floor beneath me as my breasts begin to ache, nipples pebbling, straining against the sheer fabric of my top. My eyes flick back and forth, looking at his eyes, then glancing down at his crotch, expecting – no, hoping – to see signs of an erection and I am disappointed as his baggy scrubs reveal nothing.

He releases my wrist and gestures to the other people standing around us to step back, that I will be okay, it was likely just a fainting spell brought on by not eating enough breakfast.

But I know it is more than that because I suddenly remember it all. The panorama of images and feelings flashing through my mind is overwhelming: the fairgrounds, blaring carnival music, sawdust floors, flashing marquee lights and the ever-present smell of popcorn. I close my eyes and try a breathing technique to calm my rising excitement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last summer, at the State Fair & Carnival, I wanted to ride the newly renovated rollercoaster but no one in our group would go with me. I wasn’t going to miss this annual tradition, so I bought a single ticket and stood in line, hoping to get the front car all to myself. The ride attendant took my ticket, pointed to the right and shouted, “Single, front car.”

Yes! Tonight was my lucky night. Except when I stepped into the car, there he was, another single. Without a word, carefully ignoring each other, we snapped our seatbelts closed and the safety bar locked across our waists. I took two deep breaths and felt the car shudder and lurch into motion.

I recall the suspense and fear with the sudden plunge of the rollercoaster, heard the echo of an ear-shattering scream – mine – and felt my stomach flip with the onset of weightlessness. When the ride ended, my face buried in his neck, his arm around my shoulders, and his hand tightly gripping mine, he guided me to a nearby bench. Our time together had just started, but there was already a deep, animal connection that was beyond reason or words. A sip of bottled water, four cleansing deep breaths, and the cooler night air made me realize how hot I was – and just how fast my heart was beating.

“That’s it, drink it slowly. Good girl.”

The Carnival’s P.A. coaxed us to join them in the 4-H pavilion barn for the awarding of the much-coveted 1st place Blue Ribbons. Walking with the flow of people towards the awards ceremony, we quickly realized we were seeking a different destination.

Leaving the crowd behind, both feeling the heat rising in our loins, we scanned the pavilions and nearby buildings, all bustling with activity. We looked deeply into each other’s eyes, questioning, seeking answers. Then he led me to a deserted supply barn where they stored the fresh produce and stacked pyramids of fresh hay bales.

Secluded and finally alone, he leaned in and kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, drew back, stared into my eyes looking for approval, and finding it, briefly kissed my lips, my left jaw, near my ear.

“You are exquisite,” he whispered. He kissed my neck, on down to my clavicle, then inhaled deeply.

“Your scent is…intoxicating,” he whispered.

His hands, ever in motion, slowly, one-by-one, unbuttoning my sundress. He sprinkled soft kisses across my breasts. I felt his hard cock pressing urgently against the inside of my leg. Looking down between us, I saw the outline of its helmet just below his waistband, precum soaking through the fabric of his shorts.

Recognizing that this was happening oh, so quickly, he stopped and stared inquiringly into my eyes, looking for a sign: should he continue?

I’m sure everyone thinks you’re a good girl,” he commented.

I moaned, shook my head, no, and pulled my body close to him. He took that as assent, pushed us back together, and we landed on the hay bales. My dress flared out around me, exposing my panties. I made no move to cover myself.

He moved his mouth to mine and kissed me hard and deep, his hands coming up on either side of my face as his tongue slipped in to dance with mine. Sliding down slightly, his body hovering over mine, trailing kisses down my neck to my heaving chest. I can still feel those hands, his hands cupping my naked breasts, squeezing, possessing, and his mouth over my nipple, licking, wetting. I reacted to his warm exhaled breath, my nipple puckering, and I heard a satisfied chuckle…then, felt suckling, heard moaning – my moaning.

“You are a good girl – you’re my good girl!”

My hips responded, pushing up against him, and I felt his hand undo the remaining buttons of my sundress; the fabric pushed wide, exposing me to his gaze. He slid his hand up my inner thigh, slowly trailing his fingertips. My lower body was aching, and I felt myself squirming, moving, pushing my hips up to meet his hand through my panties…his fingers searching, seeking, urged on as his fingers encounter the satin and lace of the only thing now separating him from my wet, intimate place.

Running his fingers over the satin, he slipped his fingers under the lace and traced the soft valley between my thigh and hip. My body offered him a full-body quiver, an unspoken plea for more. The feeling was so exquisitely good; my shoulders lifted off the hay bales, my eyes connected with his beautiful blue-green gaze. He raised both my legs to his right shoulder, hooking his fingers in the satin sides of my panties, slowly, gently slid them up and off my legs, pausing ever so briefly to bury his nose in the pussy juice-soaked crotch. Again, another chuckle, followed by a soft murmur of approval.

“Good girl.”

I reached down and guided his throbbing cock free from his shorts, sliding my hand over its mushroom head, then firmly stroking from tip to base, spreading the pre-cum up and down his swelling shaft. Using my other hand, I cradled his sac and gently squeezed, eliciting a groan so loud it reverberated throughout the rafters, unsettling the roosting birds setting there. A few feathers gently drifted down as if angels were blessing us.

I giggled…

He shifted his hips, pulling back and away from my grasp, freeing my hands from his loins, then, stroking his own shaft harder and faster, he placed its tip firmly between my slippery cunt lips, brushing my swollen clit. Abruptly, my giggling stopped as the touch sent shivers throughout my body, flooding my cunt with juices so that now my moans echoed in the rafters. He looked deeply into my eyes, leaned down to my ear and whispered,

“Beg.”

Without hesitation, I stared back, moaned, and uttered, “Please, I’m begging you, please fuck me! I want your cock in me now, please!”

“I will…but only if you promise to do whatever I tell you. Will you?”

“Yes! Yes, I will!”

“Say it.”

“I promise to do whatever you tell me. Anything, just fuck me!”

He chuckled, a sound that still reverberates in my head. “Oh, yes, I will…but not yet.”

I groan, “Oh, please…” I whimper.

He shook his head, a roguish smile on his lips. He moved back, and tucked his cock back in his shorts, then looked over at a large crate of carrots. He got up, picked through them, and selected the fattest one he could find. He held it out to inspect it, then looked at me, saying, “I’m going to step outside for a minute. While I’m gone, I want you to put your fingers in your cunt and play with yourself. But you do not have my permission to touch your clit, and you are not to cum. Understand?”

I nodded, unsettled, disappointed …yet eager and horny beyond belief and surpassing anything I’d ever felt before. How was he doing this to me?

He disappeared from the barn, walking quickly.

I waited, two fingers of one hand deep in my cunt, fingers moving incessantly, back arched, hips moving of their own volition, obeying him. My other hand hovered over my clit, and I was sorely tempted – but wanted so very much to be his good girl that I moaned, turned my head away, and resisted.

He finally returned, stopped to look at my squirming, helpless form, a knowing smile on his lips. I was trapped in his eyes, unable to look anywhere else – until he shook the large carrot, freeing water from it, then used his pocketknife to cut the green leaves off and quickly carve the sharp end rounder and smooth.

He held it out to me, fat end first. “Take this and push just the end between your cunt lips.”

I stared at him for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few heartbeats as he waited, unmoving, watching. With my free hand, I reached up and grasped the rigid shaft of the carrot and yanked it from his daring hand, removed my fingers from my cunt, and spread my legs wider, giving him a clear view of my pink, puffy lips. I used the trembling index and middle finger of one hand to spread my lips wide, guided the fat end of the carrot into my cunt, then stopped with it just inside. My eyes never straying from his face as his eyes fixated on the carrot. Wrenching his eyes away and clearing his throat, he posed a question:

“Now, I want the truth, understand?”

I nodded.

“Do you want to shove that carrot into your cunt and fuck yourself with it?”

It was what I had been afraid he would ask me to do, and his crude words shocked me…and yet, I found myself yearning to do the wicked, perverted thing he wanted me to. Without a nanosecond’s hesitation, I nodded.

“Go ahead. Fuck yourself with the carrot while I stand here and watch you make a dirty slut of yourself.”

I knew I was blushing red. I felt it on my cheeks and forehead, yet I was willing to do as he commanded. Using my two fingers to keep my cunt open for this bright orange vegetable dildo, I slowly worked it inside me. It felt thicker than it looked, and it wasn’t completely straight, so it pushed against my cunt walls in strange places, which I found even more erotic. And it was cold, so very cold.

“Good girl,” he said, bending down and twisting one of my nipples back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. My back arched higher, and my legs spread wider as I eagerly sought his approval.

He stood, took out his smartphone, and opened his camera. I started to object, but he just looked at me, and I fell silent. I dipped my head, my long wavy hair cascading forward, revealing only plump red lips and a mischievous green eye. If he was going to do this, I was sure going to make each image sexy and hot as hell. I angled my cunt up towards him and spread my legs wider to help him get a good shot at my debauched self-fucking.

He took several photos from different angles, using the diffused lighting to capture my arousal in every shot, highlighting my cunt, the carrot, and my erect nipples in the background. Finally satisfied, he leaned down, his breath touching my ear and whispered, “Good girl. Now take it out and make room for me.”

I locked my eyes on his, tilted my hips, and ever so slowly slid the carrot from my cunt, moaning as it slurped its way out. I dropped it to one side, leaned back on my elbows, and arched my back, thrusting my nipples up to him.

“Eager slut,” he murmured, then knelt, cupped both breasts and dragged his tongue around my areolas, teasing them, hungrily sucking, and biting my nipples into engorged red pebbles.

Moving on, he released my nipples, knelt between my legs, shoved down his shorts and boxers, revealing his fully erect, twitching cock, its swollen purple helmet slicked with precum again. Seeing the lust in my eyes, his gaze traveled down my legs to my swollen pink, dripping cunt, open and inviting; he smiled and spoke a single word.

“Beg.”

I paused and swallowed hard.

 “Please, please fuck me. I need your cock inside my cunt. I’m a slut, a hot, dripping, horny cunt, and I need you to fuck me now. I’ve done everything you asked; I will do whatever you ask, but please fuck me!”

“Yes, but not yet, slut.”

He reached out, his fingertips once again caressing the soft skin of my inner thigh, leaving a trail of shivers from the back of my knee to my now dripping cunt. His fingers traced my outer lips, then dipped inside the slippery folds, circling my swollen pearl peering out from under its hood, yet never touching it. My hips squirmed, desperately seeking to encourage his fingers to stroke my pulsing, twitching nub.

Removing his fingers, he raised them to my mouth, coating my lips with my sweet cunt juices, and then plunged them demandingly into my mouth.

“Suck them clean, slut.”

My lips greedily closed, tongue licking, swirling, under, between, and around, savoring every vestige of sweet, fragrant cunt juice from his wet digits.

He groaned as he pulled them out of my mouth with a clear POP that burst from my surprised clips.

“Good girl,” he said again, and I shivered, eager, wanton…ready.

Passionately, he entered me. His cock nudged my pussy lips apart and pushed into me. I moaned, dropping my head and shoulders back to the hay, lifting my legs up to his sides, feeling his engorged cock breach my outer ring, sliding deeper, his thickness stretching me wide, filling the void left by the cold carrot with an indescribably wonderful feeling of hot, hard, twitching fullness.

At last, my sluttiness worked for me. I felt completely open and incredibly turned on. He slid in and out of me, shallow thrusts, teasing me, once, twice, thrice, and then suddenly plunged deep, deeper, deepest, time after time, filling me, his cock banging against my cervix. I locked him in with my ankles on his back, urging him in, lustfully moaning in concert with his thrusts.

“Ohhhh…” I had lost control of my mouth and was frightened by how loud I sounded, and soon my cries were ringing out as I came with noisy abandon.

He began to moan in time with his thrusts, and his cries mingled with mine as he came, spurting inside me as I felt his cock pulse, thickening inside me, then relaxing, then pulsing again. My cunt spasmed hard, again and again, squeezing him tightly, even as my feet clasped him hard inside me.

Spent by our exertions, panting to catch our breath, we collapsed together on the hay. He rested his head on my naked shoulder, arms around me, while I had my legs wrapped around his back, holding him in tight, as my cunt occasionally spasmed in the aftershocks of our fucking.

Then the P.A. music crackled to a stop, and the announcer began to thank everyone for visiting the State Fair and Carnival. Suddenly, we heard the large barn door slide open, and male voices were discussing where the fresh vegetables were located. Our eyes locked on the overturned carrots sprawled all around us, and our adrenalin kicked in.

He covered my mouth with his, effectively swallowing my protests and guttural moans as he quickly withdrew his still hard, dripping cock from my spasming cunt, leaving me feeling empty. He got up, helped me to my feet, steadied me, then handed me my unbuttoned sundress, and we dressed hurriedly, frantically fixing our clothes into a semblance of decency.

Wasting no time, he grabbed my wrist, pulling me along, as we circled around the opposite side of the pyramid of hay bales, away from the approaching loud voices, then slipped out of the barn into the crowds exiting the Carnival.

In the mass of people, jostling and bumping into each other, he lost his grip on my wrist and I was swept away to the parking lot. I looked for him to no avail. Finally giving up, I sadly worked my way back to my car, where my friends eventually came clattering back, dropping into the car, bubbling with excitement, eager to share their adventures.

I drove home on autopilot, keeping the secret I had left my panties in the barn, feeling his cum dripping from my swollen wet cunt and oozing onto the seat between my thighs. I never discovered where he was from or even his name.

In our intimate time together, I had never asked. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And just like that, the panorama flickers to a stop.

I am again lying on the supermarket floor with my eyes shut tight and my hand squeezing his in a vise-like grip. He is here, kneeling before me, oblivious to what had just played inside my head as I brushed my fingers against the carrots, and to the split-second sensory images triggered in my mind.

“Good girl,” I heard.

Glancing up at his half-masked face, my eyes widen in disbelief as they catch the store’s wall clock – five minutes? Just FIVE minutes for that flash memory?

He helps me to my feet, his strong hands holding both of my shoulders to stabilize me, oblivious to the whirlwind of recognition in my mind. Then we part, he to his own shopping cart, me walking unhappily back to my forgotten groceries at the register.

Not wanting to seem ungrateful, I turn to thank him for his kindness, only to find him suddenly standing beside me, recognition in his now-smiling eyes. He holds out a batch of large, green-stemmed carrots in his hand, his blue-green eyes sparkling and drawing up at the corners, showing happiness above his mask.

I hear a soft chuckle. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “You forgot your carrots…good girl.”

Later that night, I find a slip of paper with his phone number within the bunch of carrots. And I laugh in delight, knowing that I will be his naked, wanton, slutty good girl again!

 

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright 2021 © This story is the sole property of Beachgirl1959:
Neither this story nor any portion thereof may be used, copied, or transmitted in any way
without the express written consent of the author; doing so will put you at risk of a
visit from Attila. You’ve been warned.





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