I entered the hardware store focused and determined. I would not be distracted by gleaming stainless steel gas grilles. I would not be seduced by the riding lawn mower, and drool and wish. I needed one more wood panel to finish the bookshelf I was working on at home, and that was all I was here for. Nothing else! No nuclear powered thousand-year water heaters. No voice-activated toolboxes. Zip!
So I practically sprinted over to the appropriate aisle, picked through the paneling until I found an acceptable piece, and I turned to head for the checkout. But wait a second. What was that? No, it wasn’t a remote-controlled skill saw. It was… a blonde. I caught just a glimpse of some hot blonde at the end of the aisle. Okay, so that was an allowable distraction. I sauntered a little closer.
She was middle-age, maybe 32. She was busty, with a thin, v-neck t-shirt hugging her curves, and a hardware store apron tied loosely over it. Her luxurious blonde hair was casually tied up in a bun, but several strands had escaped and were framing her stunning face. She wore safety glasses as she presided over her class. She appeared to be instructing a handful of folks on how to build a birdhouse. As took a hammer and demonstrated how to go about tapping a nail in, her toned arms were tight but I noticed an unusual bounce to her bust.
“Sir, do you need a kit?”
she asked me, shocking me from my lustful reverie. She clomped over in her workboots and deposited a loaner hammer, a small box of nails, and a clear plastic bag that was apparently a birdhouse kit. I immediately dropped the panel I had carried over and got to work. But I found it hard to keep my eyes off the cleavage of our tutor.
As she worked to get the small class through a series of tasks, it was obvious to me that she was not wearing a bra. Her big, soft boobs bounced and swayed as she walked. There was too much wiggle and jiggle there for her to have those girls tied down.
“Do you need some help, sir?” she asked. “You seem to be falling behind,” she said with a smirk as she eased over closer to me.
“Ah, yes. I’m distracted, I guess,” I admitted. This broadened her smile even more. She bent down to inspect my pathetic birdhouse. Her deep cleavage gaped at me, and I nearly lost my mind.
“Yes,” she agreed, “very distracted!” She spun on her heel and walked away. But as she neared one of the other tables, she ducked her head under the strap of her apron and tossed it aside after untying it. Her white t-shirt stood not a chance at containing those boobies. Her nipples plucked perkily at the thin fabric, obvious to everyone. This might possibly be the best hardware store experience I would ever have, and I was hoping to stretch it out for at least a few more minutes!
