I could not take my eyes off of her as my girlfriend and I shopped, walking through the sections of the market on a course that paralleled hers. As our paths diverged I made an excuse about needing to go to the bathroom, so that as my girlfriend headed to the Dairy Aisle I doubled back in search of the dazzling blond temptress. After a few minutes I found her, and struggled to overcome my fear and guilt.

“H-h-hello….,” I stuttered, approaching her very tentatively in the Bakery Aisle, where she was waiting at the counter.

She smiled. “I was wondering when you would work up the courage to approach Me. You’ve been staring at Me for quite a while now,” she declared nonchalantly.

Her coolness threw me completely off balance. I had been expecting surprise…fear…even hostility. This blithe greeting, as if I were an old acquaintance with whom she had a scheduled rendezvous, made my timid shyness even more disorienting.

“Y-y-you saw me staring?” I stuttered haplessly.

This made her laugh. “Saw you?” she teased. “I could practically feel your eyes all over My ass as I walked in!”

I must have blushed bright red, because she laughed again. Before I could speak, we were interrupted by the baker manning the counter. “Here is your order,” he said, holding up a cakebox to the stunning blond siren. I imagined that the look on the baker’s face was the same as I would see in a mirror. His eyes widened and his breathing went shallow as he relished this moment of contact with the exquisite customer.

“Thank you,” she said, favoring the baker with a brilliant smile as she placed the cakebox in her shopping cart. Turning her attention back to me, she asked, “What did you want to say?”

“I-I-I wanted to beg you for your phone number,” I forced myself to declare. “I know that must sound strange.”

“Not at all,” she cooed. “Begging Me comes very naturally to men. Did you want to get on your knees?”

I hesitated, thinking she must be joking, but her expression showed no sign of mirth. While I stood dazed, she asked, “Was that woman you came in with your wife?”

“No….uh….my girlfriend….” I mumbled

“Won’t she be angry if I give you My phone number?”

“Well, yes….I know….but….I can’t….I can’t help myself….” I stammered, trying to explain.

My words trailed off to silence, and she looked me over intently. I could not help thinking that she might wear the same expression while surveying a cantaloupe that she was considering purchasing in the Produce Aisle. After almost a minute, she asked, “Do you often accost women in the supermarket?”

“No, never,” I avowed. “You see….you see….”

“Yes?” she prompted, her voice rising in mild pique as I choked on my words.

“You see,” I finally continued, fighting through my shame, “in the last few years I’ve had this problem….I take pills, but….”

One perfect eyebrow rose on her stunning face. “Oh, I understand,” she declared, glancing down at the enormous erection that she had aroused in my pants.

“I’m sorry,” I barked, embarrassed by my own lack of tact. “I know that is too much information…I don’t know why I….”

“Shhhh…,” she soothed. “Don’t worry. I’ve heard this kind of thing many times. Confessing to Me comes as naturally to most men as begging. You can’t help the effect I have on you.”

I lowered my eyes and shuffled my feet uneasily. “Well,” I said, “I suppose you must be busy…”

“You’re sweet,” she said, her tone suggesting she had made up her mind about something. Pointing to the cakebox in her cart, she said, “Today is My birthday. I’m having a little party for Myself and inviting some of my boys over. Hmmm….I hadn’t planned on getting anything else for Myself, but what the hell?”

All of a sudden she was right next to me, her lips beside my ear. I could smell her perfume and feel the soft caress of her breath against my neck as she whispered, “Listen to My Voice….You feel yourself getting sleepy….so sleepy….”

The next thing I can remember, I was standing just inside my apartment, shutting the front door behind me. I don’t know how I got there from the supermarket, or why I had no bags of groceries. My phone was in my right hand. The screen showed that I had a voicemail from my girlfriend. I hit play:

“You bastard! Who was that woman whose feet you were kneeling to kiss by the Bakery Counter?!? How dare you walk away from me while I was talking to you! We’re done! Don’t call me again!!! -Click-”

                I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. I felt something in my left hand. Looking down, I saw I was holding a name card. “Goddess Marquesa,” it announced in green embossed letters. It had an address and a phone number, and bore the impression of a gorgeous pair of lips, done in lipstick the same shade as that worn by the blond siren in the supermarket.

“Goddess Marquesa” I said, the name feeling like a prayer as I spoke it out loud. Looking at the clock hanging on the wall by my front door, I was seized by alarm. “Oh!” I gasped, aware that I was pressed for time without being about to explain how I knew. “I have to get ready. Her party will be starting soon……”

The End

Happy Birthday to the Divine Goddess Marquesa! May all of Her worshipers show their love with ardent sincerity, creativity, and generosity!!!