I came upon you sneaking a bite of late breakfast. You stood behind the shop counter, a hand lifted to your mouth. With your lips politely closed, you still managed a conspiratorial smile. I figured you weren't supposed to be eating outside your break time, and you were quick to place the blueberry muffin on a counter shelf below you, out of my sight.

By that point, you knew me. Well, knew of me, at least. I came into the shop often, though not so often as to be obvious. I'd happily spend extra for an item I could have bought for far less at another store just so I could see you.

Your place of employment did a fairly good business, with plenty of loyal customers, so I rarely encountered you at a quiet time. There was little chance of striking up a conversation, however casual. And even when I did manage to catch you during a lull, it seemed rude to linger at the counter after you'd rung up my purchase. I thought you were in your late thirties, like me, but beyond that, I had no idea what else we might have in common. I couldn't begin to guess which topic of discussion would capture your interest.

It felt mildly ridiculous, lusting after you when we were practically strangers to each other. It was rare for me to be attracted to anyone; I was happy alone, and after a string of failed relationships, I'd grown almost cynical about romance. My sex drive remained stubbornly high, but I had toys to manage that. I met plenty of attractive men and women, and I didn't give them a second thought. Some people might have looked at my full figure and assumed I had a ravenous appetite, but I knew how to starve in many ways.

My desire for you, however, was instantaneous and unrelenting. I could only laugh at myself as I indulged it. You were kind and friendly to me, just as you were kind and friendly to everyone. I'd noticed the first time we met that you didn't wear a wedding ring. So often, I was tempted to ask if you'd like to meet me for coffee, but my courage always faltered. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable around me. It was a no-win situation, being a customer you were paid to wait on. And knowing my luck, you were probably as straight as the proverbial arrow. You weren't married, but you certainly could have had a boyfriend, a man who appreciated your curves as much as I did.

On the morning I interrupted your breakfast, you hurried to swallow the last bite before offering a quick apology. I waved it off, pretending I'd seen nothing. I figured that was safer than mentioning it at all. You were large, just as I am, with thick thighs and a noticeable belly. No modest sweater could fully conceal your pendulous breasts. I worried even an innocuous comment about food might come out wrong. We made small talk, the totally meaningless kind, while you rang me up. I sneaked glances at your body, but I allowed my gaze to linger on your face. When your eyes met mine, I gave you a ready smile. I've been told that my eyes reveal everything I'm feeling, and I had to wonder if you sensed my attraction toward you. I made no real effort to hide it.

But perhaps I was better at concealing my desires than I thought. Maybe you never had a clue about how I felt. I'm sure it would have shocked you to learn of the fantasies I entertained.

Alone in my bed at night, using a vibrator to tease my clit, I imagined exploring every inch of your body. In my erotic reverie, I pictured you holding your breasts, pressing the nipples together so I could simultaneously suck and lick them both. I straddled your leg, rocking my hips to slide my slick folds against you.

At that point in my masturbation session, I pressed the vibrating wand harder against my clit. I didn't usually spend a lot of time getting off; with a vibrator, I could come several times in quick succession. But as I dreamed of suckling your tits, I repeatedly brought myself to the edge of climax, then backed off, leaving my clit pulsing from the stimulation. I focused my attention on my own breasts. Grasping the left one, I brought it toward my mouth so I could draw the hard nipple between my lips. While I gave my right one the same treatment, I imagined it was your tongue swirling over my skin.

In my fantasy, I planted kisses on the curve of your belly, and along your inner thighs before I lay between them. The thought of your plump mound and your fleshy pussy lips had my mouth watering. I wanted to get drunk on the smell and taste of you. My tongue circled around your tender pearl, merely grazing it. When our stares met, your blue eyes were full of need. I delighted in your moans, yet I resisted the urge to feast on your pussy until you grew impatient enough to grab my hair and force me.

Imagining you using my mouth for your satisfaction made my cunt wet enough to dampen the sheet beneath me. I didn't dare use the vibe at that moment, or I risked immediately orgasming. Instead, I closed my eyes, releasing guttural groans. My face, buried in your pussy and covered with your juice... My lips and tongue, tirelessly striving to please you... That was what I most deeply craved. I expected nothing in return, of course. You could have been the quintessential pillow princess, and I would have happily gone down on you again and again, thankful for the privilege. 

I tormented myself with the edging until I was utterly lost within my fantasy. As you drew closer to orgasm, your thighs fiercely trembling, I brought myself to the brink as well. Your pussy gripped the two fingers I eased inside you while my tongue pleasured your clit. You were exquisitely sensitive, just as I was beneath the head of the vibrating wand. I wrapped my lips around your swollen bud and sucked as my fingers moved rhythmically inside your warm, wet cunt.

I came hard while bringing you to orgasm in my mind. The wand's relentless vibration made me shudder; each contraction was so intense, it bordered on painful. Even as I continued to punish my clit, I heard your cries and felt your fingers tightening in my hair. I sensed those powerful spasms coursing through your body. When your thighs clenched around me, I became your willing prisoner.

Far more than the vibrator, it was the fantasy of you that gave me the full-body release I so needed. I granted my clit a few moments of recovery time before pressing the vibrator against it once more. Though it immediately responded, the sensation was almost agonizing. I was still quivering from the first climax, even as I became greedy for another.

My thoughts returned to you while the wand hummed away between my legs. I kissed my way up your body, revisiting your nipples before burying my face in your dark hair. Stick-straight, it reached the small of your back. Would you let me lie next to you for a little while? I wondered. Would you let me wind the silken strands of your hair around my wrist so I could guide your lips to mine? Would you welcome my tongue inside your mouth?

I imagined you would. That lingering kiss, tasting of your pussy, made me come yet again. This orgasm wasn't as strong as the first; instead of a crashing wave, it was an insistent lapping, drawing out my bliss like a rope uncoiled.

By the time the climax subsided, I was flushed and sweating, breathing heavily. I lay weak-limbed and shaking, my stare fixed on the ceiling. What would it hurt to ask you out? While I imagined doing just that, I never allowed myself to imagine your response. In my wild and vivid daydreams, you and I were perfect together. Reality, I feared, would be far different.

I continued seeing you as frequently as I dared. While in your presence, I felt as if my heart rested on the back of my tongue, a somber weight reminding me of what I had to lose. If you turned me down, I'd no longer be able to envision you in my fantasies. How could I when the truth made such a lie of them?

Far better to dwell in the realm of possibility, however remote. Each shared smile, and casual greeting held the slim prospect of becoming something more one day.

That was what I told myself until the morning I stepped into the shop and found someone else in your place. You weren't on vacation or working another shift. No, you were gone. I thought about what I'd salvaged by being so careful. No chance of rejection now, I consoled myself. And you? A flawless memory.

I didn't let myself dwell on what I might have gained had I been a little bolder. Instead, I hoped that whomever you loved, or whomever you might love in the future, would adore you in reality the way I had in dreams.