                           Disclaimer

What follows is a work of fiction.  Things have been completely
made up by the fevered mind of the writer.  It is a sex story
meaning that it includes descriptions of sex acts and so you
should most likely not be reading it, especially if doing so
will result in prison, spankings, restrictions of privileges, or
excessive numbers of "Hail Marys."  A Very Happy Birthday is
wished to Gary Jordan and thanks for his service for ASSD (La
Taverna), ASS*, ASSTR, and his country.   Plus, a special thanks
for the whole "Who killed Kenny" thing which brought suzee into
my life.

   In no way does the posting of this work on the Usenet imply
that the writer has waved any rights under international
convention and copyright law.  The use of this story on any web-
site, both commercial and free, is prohibited without advance
permission.  The archiving of this story by ASSTR/ASSM and
Goggle is understood and encouraged.  Come-ons for penis
enlargement systems and hair replacements can be sent to the
address below, where they will be deleted without being opened.
The occasional piece of fanmail will not be deleted, but
instead, will be read, answered, and saved forever.

Thank You and Good Day,
Kenny N Gamera
turtlemeat69@hotmail.com

Orignal Post Date: Feb 22 2003


                      The Chocolate Shoppe
                               by
                         Kenny N Gamera

There was this girl.  She was young.  She was pretty.  She
worked at the chocolate shop.

******

I am not a scrooge, honest.  I have come to not so much as hate
Christmas as to just be annoyed with the whole holiday build up.
The shopping especially annoys me.

Because of classes, I really haven't opportunity to shop at that
time of year and haven't the organizational skills to do it
through the rest of the year.  I usually do all right, but only
barely all right, by getting gifts for my parents and the girl,
who until recently, waited for me back home.

This all does have a point (trust me), and that point is this;
about the time I'm getting thrown out of the dorms, I always end
up with the last minute panic over what to give my extended
family for Christmas.  I have the car packed with dirty laundry,
ready to make the long drive across the state, except that I
need to stop some place to get my aunt, uncle, and the cousins
something.

It's very annoying.

Sigh.

Anyway.  Once again, I found myself getting snowed upon in a
parking lot in front of an empty dorm without those last few
gifts.  I, also, lacked a clue where to look for something to
give someone who already had enough University sweatshirts.
Just before turning over the ignition, I remembered the small
chocolate shop across from campus next to the little cafe where
I did much of my studying.

Guessing that a few boxes of chocolate would solve the problem,
I made the short drive into town.  My headlamps illuminated the
dark and empty street.  The liquid remains of a snowflake or two
barely necessitated using the wipers to clear.  They swished
their path across the glass making the occasional groan or
squeal to protest the lack of work.

With the student body gone for break, I was only car or person
to be seen on the short, dark trip to the car park behind the
building holding the two shops.  The beat of the heavy pop music
playing over the radio made for poor company and hardly
distracted me (even during the short drive) from my mild guilt
over the gift thing or the dread of this particular homecoming
and the memories associated with it.

I had my choice of any space in the lot and I took one close to
the rear entrance to the shop.  Like both town and campus, the
shop was dead.  As best as I could tell at first, I was the only
person in the store.  There was plenty of chocolate (a good
thing seeing as how it was a chocolate shop and all).

I started to look over the selection of candies behind the glass
of the display cases.  They were all of the familiar varieties,
but unlike the machine-borne perfection of the typical box
chocolates, each had the flawed appearance of individuality that
suggested something special.  Thinking that maybe this would
work, I smiled.  I also looked up from the candy at the sound of
someone entering the store.

Rather than a jacket, she wore a green apron of the style that
had a strap that went around the neck to hold up a flap that
would protect the shirt.  The belt ties were wrapped around to
the front and knotted into a sloppy bow.  She grasped a large
paper cup with the coffee shops logo in her left hand.

"Oh.  Hi."  She sort of cringed but with a smile.  "Sorry, I
really didn't expect to have any customers tonight.  I hope you
weren't here long."

"No, I just stepped in.  I haven't really had much of a chance
to look over what you have."

"Okay."  Her smile relaxed with her entire body.  "Let me know
when you need any help."

I nodded and went back to looking at the chocolates.  At least,
I was half looking at chocolates; the other half was looking at
the l clerk, who leaned on the counter near the till sipping
from her cup.

She stood at nearly average height, maybe a centimeter or two
less, as I could best guess because of her relaxed posture.
She, also, had a slightly thinner then average build that was
still more ample than us guys is supposed to like.  I found her
to be healthy and very womanly in appearance.  I paid very close
attention to her arse on the couple of occasions she had stood
in the right position.

Her round face with a small upturned nose over pouty lips had
very little if any make-up.  She watched me with blue eyes
through a pair of glass that had thick, black plastic frames
that had short, wide lenses.  Her blonde hair was pulled tight
against her scalp into a long ponytail.

I finally made up my mind and looked up to her.  She quickly put
down her coffee and ran over to me.  I noted a modest amount of
jiggle beneath her apron.  She stopped close enough to give me a
chance to take a discreet glance down her white oxford shirt.
Her nametag declared her to be Beth

"Ready?"

"Yes.  I would like three one-pound boxes of chocolate covered
cherries and three half-pound boxes of the mixed chocolates."

"Any in particular?"

"Surprise me."

"Okay," she said with a wink as she began to put together my
order.  "Are you a student?"

"Yep," I answered.  I watched her short, thin fingers pick up
chocolates to keep from staring at her cleavage.  "I'm a fifth-
year senior."

"And I thought you all had left on holiday."

"I had a last minute project to finish, so I couldn't leave
until the last minute."  I looked up from her hands and noticed
her playing a tongue stud against her teeth.  "Besides, aren't
you a student, too."

Her smile turned into a weak frown.  "No, I'm a local.  I was
accepted by the university this year, but even with student aid,
I couldn't afford it after the tuition hike."

"Yeah, I had to take an extra year because I couldn't pay for
all my courses last year."  I sighed.  "I hoped to get a job
teaching after the term, but with the cutbacks because of the
economy, I think I may have to take an assistantship the
professor I work for is offering me."

"Oh," she replied as she finished the last box of cherries.  She
started to pack the first of the mixed chocolates, the tongue
bar clicking against her teeth.  "Well, at least your girlfriend
is getting a nice present."

"I'm sure she is.  She got married to a stock broker who is
making a mint short selling stocks," I said in a voice without
bitterness or any other emotion.  "These are for my relatives."

"Oh."  For a long time, we were both silent as she continued to
fill my last box.  With the last chocolate in place, she looked
at me.  "So you aren't seeing anyone right now?"

"No."

"Neither am I."

It appeared to be my turn to say, "oh."

"Yeah, but it's okay, though.  He was a jerk, but I do miss the
sex."  She looked into my eyes and licked her lips.

I stared back into her eyes and thought about what was
happening.  I couldn't make myself believe it.  It was like a
scene from a bad story on the internet.  I didn't know what to
say.

"I take it that he was good."

"Not really, but he wasn't bad."  She paused a moment.  "I
thought I was in love."

My right lip curled in a half smile.  "That does help, doesn't
it?"

She smiled a little.  "Yeah, it does."

She put the six boxes into a bag that she handed to me.  I
handed her my credit card.  After ringing up my purchases, she
swipped it and handed it back to me.

As the recept printed, she again looked at me and asked, "Do you
believe in 'love at first sight.'"

"A little."

She reached out and took my hand.  "I do."  Leaning over the
counter, she brought her lips to mine.

I responded hungerly.  I reached over and pulled her tightly
against me.  My tongue forced its way inside her mouth.  Her
tongue and mine intertwined, and I could feel my cock swell in
my pants each time I came into contact with her piercing.

I moved away and went around to her side of the counter.  She
took my hand and led me to the kitchen area where they made the
chocolates.  Just inside the door, we attacked each other.

I brought her close to me in a tight embrace.  Our lips met
again.  She lifted a hand to my crotch and began to knead and
rub my erection through my jeans.  As it grew, she moaned into
my mouth, then lowered herself to her knees.

With a quick flip of her fingers, she had the button undone and
the zipper pulled down.  She reached into my underpants and
pulled my penis over the elastic and into her warm mouth.

I groaned as she began to slide the stud along the underside of
my cock shaft preliminary to bobbing her head gently over it.  I
placed my hands on her shoulders to hold myself steady for the
several minutes she sucked on me.

When she sensed my impending cum, she pulled back so just the
head stayed inside her mouth any began to pump with her hand.
With a final grunt, I closed my eyes and released my load.
After each spurt, I could feel her swallow.

I pulled her up from the floor and again kissed her.  At first,
she hesitated, but seeing that the taste of my semen didn't
bother me, she returned my kiss.  As our tongues danced, I
pushed my hand under her apron.

After I unfastened her jeans, I slid my hand inside her panties.
I didn't feel any hair as my hand traveled down to and then into
her pussy.  My finger easily entered her already wet passage.  I
began to finger fuck her.  The tight cloth of her jeans held my
palm tight against her clit, and I knew I would soon have her
cumming when the bell on the front door rang.

"Shit," she said through gritted teeth.  "I'll get rid of them.
Hold that thought."

Without redoing her pants, she left for the front.  I waited for
several minutes, and when she did not return, I buttoned my
pants and went out of the kitchen.  A large group of elderly
woman stood at the counter.  None of them could apparently make
a decision. I watched them debate for fifteen minutes.

After that time, Beth looked over to me and asked, "How long is
your trip home."

"About five hours."

She sighed.  "You better take off."

"Can I see you when I get back from holiday?"

"Yes."  One of the matrons beckoned to her to come over.  "Now
go."

I went, but very much lacking anything approaching the outskirts
of enthusiasm.  The drive home was longer than any other in my
recent memory in every way except by the clock.  My only comfort
was the musk of her excitement still clinging to my fingers.  I
only washed it at the last fuel stop, just a few blocks from
home, in order to spare my mother's sense of propriety.

The holiday passed with equal slowness.  My relatives reacted
favorably to the gifts.  Other than that, I can only recall the
desire for time to speed its progress as it only crawled by like
the last hours of a school day.

I exceeded the speed limit the entire trip back to university.
Each minute took longer than the one before it.  Somehow, I
arrived back while it was still light out.  Skipping my dorm, I
drove straight into town instead heading directly to the
chocolate shop's car park.

I found the back door locked and went around to the front.  The
store was dark.  I tested the door.  It too was locked.  I
looked at the large open window.  A sign announced that what had
been the chocolate shop was now for rent.

I stared at the sign in disbelief.

******

There was this girl.  She was young.  She was pretty.  She was
gone.

