Around the corner of Chatham Square and Broadway, N.Y., stands an Indian curio shop named Chupachuk. Jennifer Lopez not yet known as J-Lo curiously walked into this shop.

At the door a Hare Krishna devotee on his way out greeted her, “Hare Krishna!”

“Hare Krishna, you too,” Jennifer said smiling.

The shop smelled of an Old World. An Indian chant whined from the piped in music. She found herself as the only browser around and the male at the paying counter was cute. But he looked as though he was not in the mood to approach her. To engage his interest, she started her no-miss flirty move. First she made a little noise by dropping something on the floor. Then she bent forward to pick it up making her short skirt ride up her rear and voila! The guy was approaching her. “My thong is never wrong,” she laughed to herself.

“Good morning. You’re Miss Jennifer Lopez?”

“Guilty! Hi!” She flashed a warm smile.

“You’re even more beautiful in person,” he said with a friendly smile.

“Didn’t know I am that recognizable.”

She’s no big star but on her way optimistically to become one. Presently, she’s just someone dancing and joking around in a popular comedy show on TV and a significant part in a minor grossing movie. But the owner of the curio shop knew better. She’s built to stardom.

“I would’ve been dead if I didn’t recognize such a distinctively beautiful face and figure like yours.”

He introduced himself as Randy Chupachuk.

Jennifer shook hands with him. They looked into each other and the vibes was hot.

“Just what does Chupachuk means?”

“That’s simply means ‘chit-chat’ in Iroquois.”

“I’m half-Indian and Italian,” he added.

“I’m half Puerto Rican and etc. etc.,” she smiled.

Randy had black wavy hair, black eyes, Indian warrior-built with copper skin tone, sloping nose, sensual pouting lips, firm jaw line, with that adorable cleft on the chin. Not bad in the bulge department as Jennifer eyed his crotch.

“My Italian father left us when I was still a baby so I used my Iroquois name. My forefathers were the ones who originally made Broadway street. Centuries ago this was a major Iroquois path then when the Dutch migrated here in New York they widened it and called it The Broad Way. It was also my forefathers who named the Niagara Falls, which means Thunder of Water, and the Palisade area is now called Wall Street.”

“Oh, quite an eye-opener for history. I didn’t learn that in school.”

“You’ll learn a lot about American Indians in this store. Here’s a basket and enjoy your shopping.”

“Oh thanks, I could certainly use that,” Jennifer said and started loading it with fanciful stuffs.

“I’ll be closing up at 12 noon for lunch break. Can I invite you for lunch? I’m beginning to hate eating lunch alone,” Randy said.

Suddenly the bells in the shop’s entrance jingled and the Hare Krishna geek was back. “Excuse me lady, may I…” his voiced ticked off as Randy blocked his path. “I’m sorry no soliciting at my store please,” he said in a low but firm tone.

The devotee hesitated. “But man this is for a good cause, I’m gonna give the lady some books in exchange for a little donation for the hungry…”

“I’m closing now and I’m asking you to leave if you please.”

“Listen man, it won’t take long, just give me your lousy minute or two,” he insisted.

Randy gave him a stern look and whispered: “Not a chance. If you don’t get your ass off here I’m gonna split your fuckin’ skull.”

“Alright, alright I’m leaving, cool man, peace!” he said and began striking his finger cymbals together as he headed back toward the door and fled out into the street chanting like crazy.

“I respect religions but most of these fanatics are weirdoes and they have shoplifted my shop. That’s why I installed cameras for protection. They’re also good at hoodwinking people you know,” he said as he flipped around the hanging door sign to close.

“Where to for lunch?” asked Jennifer suddenly taken aback when he locked the door inside.

“Oh yeah, ah we’ll dine upstairs. Are New York cut steaks with vegetables and salad, a bottle of red wine, Tiramisu cake or rum raisin ice cream for desert ok with you?”

“Sounds mouth-watering to me,” Jennifer said.

“We’ll just go right up here,” he said walking toward and indicating his hand to a narrow spiral staircase.

Jennifer’s heart fluttered. If a guy had a cute ass and macho authority to drive away annoying creeps like that, he certainly knew how to fuck with authority and must be a great lay. So she thought.

So Jennifer smiled and started climbing the stairs. The spiral staircase was narrow and following in her step he was afforded an in-your-face look of her sexy bottom jiggling under her orange flouncing skirt. Naturally he peeked discreetly. Wow, if he could only stuff his hand right away under that skirt. Her sensual perfume followed her like her aura. The grumbling in his stomach was transferred in his loins.

The mezzanine was a neat studio type. Strings of Indian beads walled in the bedroom. There’s a small dining area furnished with a wooden table good for two and a cook-friendly kitchen partitioned by a counter. A painting hung on the wall and across another were full-body portraits of an Iroquois chief and woman in ceremonial clothes. In between the portraits hung an antique mirror.

“You live here alone?”

“Yup, most of the time. My brother keeps our branch in Reno, and sometimes we exchange places. That’s a bigger one in Reno and my mother lives there too. I have a helper though but he called in sick today.

Randy heated the iron platters and prepared the steaks and the gravy.

“Hmm, smells delicious,” Jennifer said as the steaks hit the iron roaster.

“Do you have hobbies?” Randy asked.


“You know, things you like to do on a regular basis.”

“Well, I love singing and dancing. I hope I can also be a recording star someday aside from being an actress.”

“Oh by the way maybe you’d like to change my music, I’m playing that thing for the store’s mood.”

“Ok, any gangsta rap or R & B or soul jazz,”

“How about Red Hot Chili Peppers?”

“That’ll do,” she said.

Randy ejected the Indian chant and pushed the Peppers into the audio player.

“What other hobbies do you do?”

“Dance, dance, dance, sing, sing in the shower. I do collect vibrators, though.

“Really, what’s your favorite color?”


“Favorite place?”



“Forbidden er mango.”


“I don’t know. What is this, Jeopardy?”

He laughed. “I’m just trying to make getting to know you more fun, that’s all. If it bothers you, I can stop,” he said pouring red wine on two goblets and handing one to her.

“No. Let me think. Forrest Hump maybe and…” She trailed off.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Jennifer said with keen inquisitiveness.”

“Is your dick small or large?”

Randy choked on his wine.

“I’m sorry,” he said blushing as he composed himself. “It fits all to say the least. Why do you ask?”

“Coz it’s hard to suck a small one.”

Randy chuckled.

“To tell you frankly, you have the most beautiful piece of ass I saw down there causing me to have an erection from here to Cuba.”

“Oh really? Can’t wait to see that,” Jennifer said raising her eyebrows and breaking her face into a meaningful wide grin.

After a while, both turned serious and fell silent.

“You know what? That painting showing the Indians killing the buffaloes disturbs me,” Jennifer finally spoke.


“It’s violent. Although it is dynamically realistic I don’t suppose it should hung there.”

“You think so? I’ll change it.”

“Oh no I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I don’t know why I said that. This is your house for crissakes.”

“No! No! It’s ok. It’s time to change that anyway. I do put a different painting each time I’m in the mood to fix things around here. Give me a moment,” he said and run downstairs.

When he came back he’s got four rolls of paintings and showed them to her. “These are beautiful and colorful. I think I like this one,” Jennifer said, nodding. The painting is called The Pueblo Corn Dancers And The Koshare or Delight Maker.

Randy quickly replaced the painting with Jennifer’s choice. He just taped it to the wall and presto!

“It’s beautiful,” Jennifer said, proud at her choice.

“I like your outspoken attitude,” said Randy.

“Thanks. You’re such an understanding guy. I like you for that. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh right in there,” he said pointing to the door on the left before the beaded entrance to his bedroom.

Jennifer sat on the toilet and saw by the window a vintage bath tub upon animal claw feet. The wall on the foot side had a painting of a beautiful female Indian bathing in the nude while on the opposite side was an equally nude male Indian standing with a stiff penis. Jennifer was turned on. The female looked like her and the male looked like Sean “Puff Daddy” Combs only with thin upper lips.

When Jennifer stepped out of the bathroom she asked if she could look into the bedroom. He nodded. Jennifer touched the curtain beads and parted them in the middle to enter. A couch-bed, an antique wardrobe closet, and a night table furnished the room. The walls were layered with soundproofing material in beige and a buffalo hide with a painting of horses shuttered the window. She couldn’t believe how neat it was. The whole pad was cooled by a centralized air-conditioner and smelled of patchouli.

She settled on the couch and then pulled off her brown suede boots.

When Randy entered the room, Jennifer was leaning on her left arm resting atop a stack of small pillows. One knee was raised and the other curled down affording a peek of her white panties pouting at the crotch. Randy choked on his drool.

“Lunch is ready, time to eat,” Randy spoke at last, his eyes fixed at the wagging leg that widened and narrowed the vision of her intimate apparel.

“Want to indulge first for some appetizers,” she said seductively.

Randy was too stunned to speak nor move.

“You’re not vegetarian, are you?”

To hell with the steaks on the table! Who needs ‘em when you have the pleasure of having pussy for lunch.

Jennifer shifted her legs lifting her ass from the couch and slipped the panties off her legs. She flung the panties to him and he caught them right just below his chin. Cupping the panties in his hands he brought them to his nose as it looked freshly used.

“Does it smell like pussy?”

Randy nodded.

“How does my pussy rate to you?” His face quivered at the visual impact of her bald pussy, smooth as a baby’s ass. Her fingers were sliding back and forth on each of the plump lips making the clit hood jut out.

“A 10,” he answered thick with lust and rushed to kneel before her to pay homage to her venerable pussy. He was about to touch down his head between her legs when she spoke:

“Take off your clothes before you dive. Chief.”

Randy pulled up his shirt and showed a rugged physique.

“Now your jeans.” He stood and unbuttoned his 501 and then sat at the edge of the couch to pull them off his legs. Jennifer knelt on the couch and pulled off her scanty silk top revealing her apple-sized tits and sank her knees down the floor to tug his Calvins off his legs.

Randy’s dick sprang free like a panther. Jennifer’s eyes lit up. She held his velvety smooth dick and kissed his little nipples. In turn he flipped away her long hair to kiss her by the side of the neck just below the ear. As she lowered her head down his rippled abs his hand traveled along her back reaching her luscious ass kneading a cheek through the skirt to as far as the dividing pass with his fingers caressing along. There was heat emanating from there.

Jennifer discarded her wrap-over skirt with a flourish. Randy advanced his hands on her ribcage gathering up her lovely round breasts, squeezing them and jarring his tongue from one nipple to the next. She let loose a low open-mouthed moan as Randy suckled at the nipples. He feasted at her boobs before Jennifer moved down from the sofa, sank on her knees on the carpeted floor, and grabbed his cannon with her left hand. She began stroking it up and down flicking and whirling her tongue around the bulbous head.

“Hmmm, you’ve got a big Johnnie fucker here,” she said. Randy loved it when she talked dirty. It drove him wild.

Randy tossed his head back above the back rest as Jennifer pressed his dick against his belly and gathered up his balls with her other hand and bent over to lick and take each nut into her mouth. After wetting his balls she licked up and resumed sucking his dick as if her life depended on it. Realizing he won’t be able to last at her assault, he stood up.

“Pause, pause Jennifer otherwise I’d burst here and now.” He knelt down and kissed her madly and then gingerly on one nipple, fondling a breast before hitching her to lie on the couch. He pummeled her butt off the edge of the couch and held her legs apart to conveniently bury his face into her marsh land. Jennifer’s hips squirmed and bucked up and down taking every gram of pleasure from his skillful tongue. She began wailing as he entered a finger inside her twisting and turning and making her face contort to blissful agony. Jennifer’s eyes rolled back in its socket.

“Oh fuck,” Jennifer mumbled under her breath hissing as he continued ravishing her plump delight. She clutched his hair like she would brace her hand on the handle bar of the roller coaster. In a tiny minute next, she tensed and started coming, shaking like a leaf on a fuzzy tree and bathing Randy’s mug with her own juice.

There’s of course a limit to his endurance. Time to move in and thrust into her juicy éclair. Now he was above her copiously kissing her as he entered her twittering mons pliable to his heady, steady thrust. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands felt the hard muscles of his arms and back. He lingered for awhile in this position savoring how her muscles rippled around his plundering tool.

“Get on all fours, I want to look at your buns.” Jella did presenting herself lengthwise on the couch and he knelt behind her. Hard like steel he squeezed into her love hole and fucked her mindlessly to oblivion. Slapping her butt and witnessing her lips clinging to him as he retreated, he felt the thrill of it all. It was a powerful feeling like he’s driving a Maseratti or having the world by his dick and balls. At last he could not hold back, he felt his vitals rising up for release. “I’m coming!” Randy grunted and spurts of come flooded her contracting but yielding compartment of joy. Thanks for the soundproofing their cries could have waken up even the dead.

“Hail to you chief,” Jennifer exclaimed with panting breath as if they’ve run past the finish line.

“I’m famished. How about taking the main course now?”

“Do you have enough for the second helping?” Jennifer asked.

“With you, one is never enough,” replied Randy.

“So you really live up to your name.”

“The understatement of the year.” Randy winked.

“But you know, after lunch I’ve got to run to my gynecologist because I remembered I have an appointment with her.”

“Oh yeah?”

“But I’ll be back.”

“A gynecologist did you say? You have any problem that you can share with me?”

“Hmmm, why not? I think I have clap.”

“A what?”

“Did you hear it? A clap, maybe you should go to an EENT.”

Randy’s face became distorted.

Jennifer laughed. “Look yourself in the mirror. Oh, God what an expression! I was just joking,” still shaking with laughter.