6 comments/  34793 views/  12 favorites

Chance

By: smhgirl2002



Walking lazily along the hot pavement I pass a store window, the mannequin's chic clothing catching my eye. Taking only a few more steps, my eyes still glued on the sparkling blue halter top I accidentally bump into someone also on the sidewalk. My hand immediately rests on her arm as I begin to apologize profusely. The woman is on her cell phone and she quickly ends the conversation and flips the phone shut. Her eyes meet mine, sizing me up, evaluating me. Does she think my apology is false? The woman was only an inch shorter than myself, her green eyes easy to get lost in. I softly blush as I realize I had been staring a moment too long. 

"Again I am so sorry miss." 

"Perhaps you should venture inside and try on the lovely top?"

How did she know I was interested in the shirt? She must have been watching me, but then why did she allow me to bump into her? Apparently she could tell by my expression what I was thinking. Her lips formed into a striking smile.

"I noticed you peering into the store; therefore I moved over but you don't necessarily walk in a straight line while your head is turned."

My blushing only continues to deepen. Her eyes continue to stare as if penetrating into my mind.

"Come along, let's try on the shirt, I have some time to kill anyway."

Before I have a chance to fully absorb her words, my hand is already reaching for hers. Her hand so soft and delicate. Her manicured nails adding to her sophisticated appearance. We walk into the store together and directly to the sparkling blue top that brought us together. 

"What size are you?"

"Medium," I answer meekly.

She hands me the top which I take from her grasp slowly. Since we are now inside of a building and out of the hot sun I could clearly see her. Her shoulder length hair was blond, but somehow I knew she colored it. Naturally she was a brunette. Her breasts were small, not quite a c cup. Her curves added to her sexual appeal, my mind wondering what it would feel like to rest my hands on her full hips and pull her further against my naked body. The last thought dangling in mind, I hurry to the fitting room to try on the top. Alone in the small room, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Cheeks flushed, beads of perspiration forming above my brow, mouth suddenly so very dry, I quickly pull my shirt over my head. My breasts bounce with the swift movement. I peel my bra away, my pink nipples standing proudly. I have always been quite pleased with my own breasts. A solid b cup and perfect size nipples that are so sensitive. The lightest touch sends shivers down my spine. Staring at my hard nipples in the mirror, I can't deny myself the opportunity for immediate gratification. My fingers run along my nipples gently pulling. I sigh with satisfaction at the touch when I am interrupted by a soft knock on the other side of the door.

"Are you ever coming out? I want to see how you look in the top."

"Just a minute," the words running together, the high pitch in my voice signaling my embarrassment.

I end my gentle caresses and pull the shirt down covering my beauty, praying my nipples don't remain erect revealing my pleasing actions. I slowly open the small wooden door and step out into the open, in front of her. She stands with her hands resting on her hips, eyes consuming the delicious sight in front of her. 

"You look beautiful, gorgeous in fact."

My self esteem rapidly building upon hearing her compliments. The woman a stranger, yet not so much anymore. Her praise and most importantly approval essential to me yet I am not even aware of her name. She moves closer to me, closing the gap separating us. Her hands take mine gently squeezing. 

"You are so beautiful."

Her eyes meet mine and seconds later, mine submissively drop.

"You must join me this afternoon for lunch."

My heart skips a beat at her invitation. My mind instantly running wild with fantasies. 

"Of course," I reply and then with hesitation... "I don't even know your name." My breathing faltering as I await her response. Hoping she doesn't turn around and leave the store for some reason, knowing my fear is silly yet perhaps not. 

"All you need to know is that I want you, but since you asked, Tamara."

My heart literally stopping at the spoken words, an immediate need arising to feel her luscious lips against mine. I raise my eyes, speaking my wish using only my eyes. Seconds later, she grants me the simple wish. Her hand tightening its grip on mine she breaks the kiss only to mutter, "Let's skip lunch." I follow her lead without saying a word. At this point she can take me anywhere. 

She waves a taxi down in seconds and gives the driver directions to her place. In the back seat, her hand slowly moves down my thigh, lightly dancing around my knee. "What is your name gorgeous?"

"Sara."

"Kiss me."

My eyes sneak a glance at the driver curious to see if he is aware of anything. Tamara's fingers resting on my chin and forcing me to face her.

"Don't think Sara, just kiss me."

My lips firmly pressed against hers. Her hand cupping my breast, thumb pressing down on my hard nipple. Her tongue sliding in as my mouth opens wider to release an excited moan. Completely forgetting my surroundings, my hand travels across Tamara's back before resting just above her hip. 

"Down tiger," she laughs. 

The next ten minutes are excruciating. Granted, her hand continues traveling along my thigh, my excitement at its peak and getting more difficult to contain as the seconds tick by. Finally we reach her apartment. I follow behind until we reach the elevator. Before the doors close shut, my body collapses against Tamara. 

"I love kissing you," I moan.

The elevator stops on the third floor, a sudden gasp alerting us to the open doors. An older couple staring wide eyed at us. My body pushed up against the far wall of the elevator, my hands on Tamara's ass pulling her further into me, her hands under my shirt kneading my tender flesh. She pulls back and I pull my shirt down. My cheeks bright red, pussy dripping at the slight exhibitionism. Before unlocking the door to her apartment, Tamara turns to me. "Being caught turned you on didn't it?"

"Yes."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Her words music to my ears. Keep it in mind which means there will be another time between us. 

"After you."

Now it's her turn to get a look at my ass. As I walk into the room I'm overwhelmed by the size. I never imagined such a beautiful place. I notice the bar to one side, a comfortable couch and fireplace to the other. I imagine how beautiful it must be to make love next to a roaring fire. 

"Would you like a drink?"

"I'll have whatever you are having."

Tamara returns with two beers. I sit next to her on the leather couch. 

"Your place is so beautiful, I love the fireplace."

"I'm glad you like it."

"I love it."

"I love your body."

I couldn't help but smile at her forwardness. I was glad she was getting right into it because truth be told as beautiful as the apartment was, I wanted to get my eyes and more importantly hands on something hotter. 

"I'm glad you like it."

"Sit on my lap tiger."

Our lips are together before I'm even in her lap. Her hands caressing me through my shirt. I lean back and pull the shirt over my head. I had left my bra in the dressing room. I knew I wouldn't be needing it any longer. Our next few kisses full of passion as her hands caress and knead my lovely breasts. My lips stray from her mouth and once her fingers begin pinching my aching buds, I kiss her neck. As the pressure intensifies on my nipples, I suck harder on her neck leaving a perfect red mark. 

"I want to suck on your nipples, lean back."

I pull back and once her lips wrap tightly around my nipple and begin to suck, I throw my head back instantly moaning. My hands around her neck, I force my breast further into her mouth as her tongue laps at my nipple. 

"Oh yes," I moan and then she did it. I felt her teeth graze gently across and then she bit down. I screamed and my hips ground against Tamara's lap. She bit down again and I yelped even louder, my juices flooding my panties. Gentle sucking followed and I looked down at her to watch her suck my nipple. Watching my nipple slick with her saliva pop out of her mouth was more than I could take. Apparently, Tamara sensed this.

"Bedroom," she ordered. 

I practically jumped out of her lap and grabbed her hand. As we entered the bedroom she pulled my body against hers, back against her breasts. She unbuttoned my pants and stuck her hand down into my panties.

"You are dripping tiger, god you're hot."

"Of course I am," I giggled. "All because of you."

Her fingers gently caress my swollen sex. I was like putty in her hot hands. She led me to the bed and told me to strip and wait for her. I was disappointed at her departure, but I figured she was just teasing me, forcing me to wait. When Tamara returned she was topless yet her pants were still on which I found interesting. I was glad though because I still had the chance to remove them myself, unwrapping a precious gift in a way. My eyes immediately drawn to her gorgeous breasts, therefore I never saw the bulge in her pants, a surprise to come later. I held my arms out for her and soon my arms were wrapped around her beautiful body. It wasn't long before I was pushing her head down my body to my sopping pussy. I needed to feel her lips kissing my wet sex, her tongue bathing my clit, her mouth making sweet love to me. Her hot breath beating against my clit which wasn't quite all the way out from the hood yet. My bare lips wet with moisture, the result of all the built up attention.

"I'm going to enjoy feeling your body quiver against my face."

Her tongue slowly exploring the new terrain at first. Oh what a big tongue it is, covering so much ground with one lap. My body trembling before her second round. 

"Your clit is so big."

"Mmmm please suck it, I need you to."

"Patience tiger, I like to take my time at first."

My fingers twirling in her soft thick hair, trying to pull her against me but to no avail.

"What did I just say?"

I accept defeat and instead my hands begin massaging my own breasts. Her eyes watching me stroke my own nipples which have grown in size. I'm surprised when I feel her tongue enter me. My body tenses and I groan. I spread my legs wider hoping she takes the invitation. Further in her tongue slides and a continual moan escapes from us both. Then unexpectedly her tongue is back on my clit. I squeeze my breasts together and close my eyes. Her fingers enter my pussy while her tongue kisses my hard clit. The fucking slowly building and I begin moaning her name. Her thumb presses down on my clit and my legs begin trembling. I cum as she licks around my tight ass hole. Her tongue runs directly over my hole without penetrating and I feel my second orgasm quickly building. The thought of the nastiness of all this turning me on more with every passing second. My second orgasm hits as her tongue pushes into my tight hole, immediately meeting resistance. My body covered in sweat and cum, I lay on the bed panting.

Tamara's body resting against mine, I taste my own cum mixed with her saliva. 

"I hope I can bring you that much pleasure," I whisper.

"I'm sure you will tiger."

I lower my head and take a hot nipple into my mouth and immediately begin sucking. My other hand travels down her stomach, tracing lazy circles around her belly button before resting at the top of her jeans. Tamara positions herself so she is now on top, her body fully pressing against me and it's then that I notice the feel of it. Her nipple pops out of my mouth as I look down and notice the bulge in her pants.

"You're wearing a cock?" I ask half in disbelief and half in curiosity. 

"You have never been with a woman who wears one before?"

I just shake my head no. My fingers slowly undo her pants and cautiously slide inside to feel the fake cock. The feel of the rubber not to mention the thickness of it strangely turning me on. Before long my hand is gently stroking the cock, Tamara smiling at my acceptance.

"Would you like to suck my cock tiger?"

Never before had I ever imagined myself sucking a fake cock, hell I had never even blown a man before. Looking into Tamara's eyes I reply yes. We kiss before rolling over so I am on top. I kiss down her neck, cleavage, and tight stomach. Before long I reach her crotch and there I wait for her to make the move. I hear the sound of the zipper and then there it is. Right in front of me a thick black rubber cock. It was huge! I was scared I might gag with that monster in my mouth. I feel her soft hand on the back of my head and then she pushes me down, my mouth opening wide to take it. I only take half of the cock at first to get used to it. I run my mouth along the shaft thankful it doesn't taste too much like rubber. Tamara's fingers still busy in my hair, encouraging me along. My eyes meet hers and it's then that I realize how turned on I am, how much I'm enjoying this. Seeing Tamara so turned on and simply being able to look deep into her eyes. My fear of looking like a cheap whore vanishing. Her hips move and more of the cock disappears into my mouth. My right hand grips the bottom half of the cock as my right hand reaches out to fondle her breasts. She continues fucking my mouth until she's close to orgasm. She pulls out her cock, my saliva dripping from the thick shaft. I whine at the loss, wanting her back in my mouth fucking me. 

"You are so hot tiger, watching a gorgeous gal suck my cock always gets me going." 

In a blink of an eye, her pants are on the floor and I'm on my back. Now naked except for the cock she positions herself between my legs. She resists the urge to drive the monster into me and instead allows my pussy to slowly swallow the thick invasion inch by inch. For a few seconds she remains inside, my pussy quickly accommodating. Her hips begin building a slow steady rhythm. Before long, my nails are digging into Tamara's back leaving fresh marks, the slight pain turning her on even more. She's fucking me hard, her fingers gliding over my clit every few seconds. 

"God I love you," I scream.

She groans louder as her orgasm hits, driving the cock into me one last time triggering my orgasm. Her slick body collapses on mine, both of us gasping for air. She raises her head and I lean down to kiss her. My hands grip her tight ass, her breasts mashing mine. 

The following evening I knock on Tamara's door, dressed in a short skirt and a simple blouse. We made plans to dine at one of her favorite restaurants. She opens the door and wraps her arms around me. 

"You look beautiful."

"As do you."

We kiss softly.

"If I may make a request?"

"Certainly," I reply wondering if she was going to suggest skipping dinner.

She pulls away and returns a moment later with a bag in hand. 

"Change into this?"

I take the bag curious as to what she has picked out for me to wear. Halfway down the hall, I realize what it might be. I hurry into the bathroom and reach into the bag and sure enough I pull the sparkling blue halter top out. I return wearing the chic top. 

"Absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank you."

I slowly turn around so she can see the full effect. 

"We may have to skip dinner?"

"No," she replies smiling. "If you get to be too much, I may just have to undress you in the middle of the restaurant."

My cheeks blush profusely and with that we leave her apartment and head for the elevator to begin the evening.

Chance



It was barely past five o'clock. Bill Jenkins sat at the bar sipping his drink. His second. The ironic part about this was, Bill wasn't a drinker, until now anyway as he sat there thinking about it. "When was the last time I was even in a bar?" he wondered asking himself. And he probably wouldn't be here now if it weren't for the fact he'd gotten tired at staring at the walls in his office. Three days of doing that, saying you were working late when you really weren't, staring out the window, reading magazines, pacing about the darkened halls after everyone else had left. Three days... now four... of bullshit. So here he was, drinking. Ordering his third Johnny Walker Black. Already he could feel it, time to slow down or he'd never make it home. 

Home. He thought about that. Home. Home where is wife would be waiting for him. Home. A place he once thought of as sanctuary, a place where he and his wife Mandy shared a life together. He still loved her. He knew that. And he felt like she still loved him too. But lately, especially lately, all they did was fight. Fight about stupid things, things that years ago wouldn't have upset either one of them. Now...everything did. Especially the stupid things. Like their fight this morning just before he left for work. It was garbage day. It was his job to take out the garbage, which he did. But he'd tipped over the kitchen garbage just prior to taking it out. He'd dumped some coffee grounds on the floor, scooped up what he could, and then carried it out to the trash, and from there the trash to the curb. By the time he'd come back inside the house to grab a cup of coffee and head out, Mandy was waiting for him. If looks could kill.

"What?"

"I'm not your maid," she'd said handing him the dustpan and the small broom. "Clean it up."

"I'm going to be late, you clean it," he spat back a little more authoritatively than he should have. He was irritated, it wasn't that big a deal. He'd taken the trash out just like he always did, a little spillage that would have taken two seconds to sweep up wasn't worth fighting about, yet...here they were doing just that. He could have done it. Perhaps should have. The same two seconds it would have taken her to do it, he could have done it in as well. But he was already rationalizing in his head, "If it hadn't been spilled coffee grounds, it would have been something else."

"Home," he thought once again as the bar tender brought him his drink.

**

Mandy was fuming by the time Bill left. "Fucking coffee grounds!" she said to herself, taking the two seconds it would have taken her husband to clean up his mess. She dumped them into the fresh sack that Bill had actually put on the garbage can for her, just like he always did. She could have said thank you, perhaps should have, but his demeanor when he told her to do it herself had set her off. It was downhill after that, just like everything else seemed to be doing for the past three months now. Three months where the two of them hadn't even been intimate, the first two weeks of that where Bill had slept on the couch. He'd eventually moved back into the bedroom, but they might as well have put up a brick wall in their bed for all the good that did. Though that was partially her fault as well. Mandy usually slept naked, a subtle hint when she did that if he was interested...but he'd shown no interest. He was still pissed, still belligerent. Well, she sure as hell showed him hadn't she? She'd worn pajamas, or if not pajamas, something anyway, and nothing...nothing even remotely sexy or alluring. That was her signal. "Not tonight, don't touch me...don't bother me." He hadn't. Not for three month's now. "That's ok...fuck him," she thought. "If that's the way he wants it."

She was already running a little behind, no big deal really, she was after all the head of her own department. She had an important meeting this morning with a new client, someone that could make her a nice fat bonus if they landed the account. She looked at what she'd chosen to wear, typical, non-attractive business attire. "Fuck that," she said once again. She flipped through her wardrobe looking for something else. "Not too obvious," she said discarding the low-cut white frilly blouse, one of her favorites, but definitely not for work. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even worn it out. She could only remember once when she had, she and Bill had gone out to a nice place for dinner, celebrating her new promotion. They'd had a fabulous evening, best food ever. Afterwards, they'd gone out to the parking lot to go home, Bill had stood at her door, opening it for her. She had started to get in, he'd grabbed her, kissing her passionately. It was crazy, it was wild...and it was perfect. She'd felt his lips on her neck, kissing her bare flesh, working their way down. Standing there in the open door of her brand new Mercedes. She'd felt the grope of his hand on her breast, teasing and toying with her nipple through the shear material. She glanced about the parking lot, not worried about someone seeing them, realizing what they were doing, but actually hoping someone would. She was hot, the thought of being seen, even if all they were doing was a little groping, passionate kissing, just the thought..."

She pulled out the black short skirt, still professional looking even if it was a tiny bit shorter than it should have been perhaps. The white semi-sheer blouse, though the double layer of material in front would only give hint at her very lacy, very sexy bra. Besides, the matching jacket would hide most of that anyway, unless of course she took it off. Which she might do...over lunch."

**

Bill was in no rush to get home. His wife wouldn't be there anyway, not for several hours yet. She had told him over a week ago she'd be working late tonight, just as he supposedly was. "Maybe she is...maybe she isn't," he thought, and then felt the need to pee, leaving his drink on the counter, ordering a forth before going back to use the restroom. He'd stood in front of the mirror washing his hands. At forty-four he was still reasonably attractive. A full head of hair, just a hint of grey starting to show at the temples, not too much...just enough to give him a look of maturity, experience, style. His deep blue eyes were his best feature, next to his dark thick hair, at least that's the way he saw it. Though several women had commented on his eyes in the past too. He worked out, twice a week. And though his body would never again be the way it once was, he was still proud of the way he looked and had gotten more than one appreciative look from the girls at the office. Young girls in fact, girls he now found himself fantasizing about, thinking about, to the point he'd done the unthinkable, closing his door, and then sitting there masturbating while thinking about their smiles and what they could lead to. Well...in his mind anyway. "And why am I doing this?" He'd asked himself after spilling his seed into his back pocket handkerchief, tossing it into the trashcan beneath his desk like he'd done and been doing now almost every day for a solid week. "Because Mandy wore pajama's to bed, that's why!" He told himself. She wasn't interested in him anymore and was making it pretty damn obvious. "Well, fuck her then!" he told himself. "If that's the way she wants it!"

Bill came out of the restroom heading back to the bar, to his seat. He stopped dead in his tracks almost tripping over himself. There was a very attractive woman who had taken the stool next to where he'd been sitting, the bartender just then placing her drink, "A long Island Iced tea by the looks of it," he thought to himself. "Pretty stiff drink," he considered, though he was in fact feeling the effects of the three he'd had himself. He sauntered over back towards the bar wondering as he did if he should scoot over another seat, give her some distance between them. His fresh drink sat waiting for him. He realized then, she could have picked another seat herself, farther away if she'd wanted to. It wasn't that crowded yet, well...not at the bar anyway, though most of the booths were now being taken up. Still...

Bill sat down, caught her smile. He smiled back feeling a little foolish, nodding his head. Neither one spoke. He glanced over towards her appreciatively once more, taking a sip of his scotch, using the subterfuge in doing so to get a better look at her. She was thirtyish perhaps, on the far side, damn good looking, nice tits...from what he could tell anyway. A thin lightweight sweater that hugged her curves, a hint of a nice deep tanned cleavage, soft looking breasts swelling up to meet one another, dark brown shoulder length hair that perfectly molded her face. She was looking at him again, looking at him, looking at her. She smiled. He smiled back. She took a sip of her drink, he noticed she was wearing a ring. But then again so was he. He turned the ring around on his finger with his thumb still holding his glass, wondering stupidly if he should remove it. "Why? He was married...she was married, they were just two people in a bar having a drink. Hell, they hadn't even exchanged pleasantries for hells sakes and he was already imagining himself fucking her!"

He sighed, heard himself sigh, saw her turn towards him once again. "Long day?" she asked.

"Ah yeah...it was," he answered. It was the perfect opportunity, he introduced himself. "Names Bill," he said extending his hand. He was surprised when she turned, taking it. 

"Susan," she offered back. No last name, but then again, he hadn't given her one either. "Me too," she then added, still smiling, though friendly now, more so than before. "Haven't seen you in here before," she then offered, wondering. 

"First time," he said truthfully. "Usually just go straight home from work, no rush to do so tonight though," he added, wondering why he'd told her that. Wondering if subconsciously he was trying to tell her he was interested, even though he really wasn't if the truth were to be known. But it was a quick little shot of self-confidence, sitting here at a bar next to an attractive woman, carrying on a friendly conversation, no yelling, no smart remarks. Flirting a little maybe, which is as far as he knew it would go. Hell, she wasn't really flirting back with him, just being polite, friendly. Obviously a professional woman who like himself had stopped in for a drink on her way home, perhaps even meeting up with some friends. Nothing more. Bill even glanced around, wondering if she was in fact waiting for someone.

"Here alone?" she asked.

"Yeah...you?"

"Yeah."

"Buy you another drink?" She'd just finished her first one.

"Sure, thank you."

"Thank you," Had Mandy said that this morning before leaving for work, he might not be sitting here now, wondering what it would be like to fuck this woman he'd just met.

**

The presentation had gone well. Better than expected even. They'd been at it all morning, the model of the new proposed shopping mall had been eye catching. Wooing several perspective tenants into moving their big name stores into it meant the difference of a small success, or a big one. Mandy had managed to invite three really big names to the presentation, two of which now seemed genuinely interested. And though construction was still well over a year away, getting some big names on board early on would make all the difference. Jim Peters, Mandy's boss had suggested, recommended for those who might be interested to drive out to the sight later on, have a look for themselves, and then perhaps sit down to dinner and continue on with the discussions. Of those who were interested in doing so, one of them was her newly found account. Mike Edwards was the Chief Executive Officer for one of the largest clothing store chains in the country. If she could land that one, then others would follow. No one wanted to give anyone else an edge, especially in a rapidly developing section of town where the growth had been enormous over the past few years. It was an ideal location, and held the promise of substantial financial success.

It also meant she'd be working late, but she'd pretty much already planned on that anyway. And besides, Bill was working late again himself, though he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately anyway. She couldn't help but wonder...

"Mandy? Can I see you for a moment?" Jim had asked her drawing her off to the side. "I hate to do this to you," he began. "But something's come up in the San Francisco office, I have to fly out tonight. Think you can handle entertaining Mike and Christopher yourself? Take them out to the sight, show them around, and then have dinner with them later? See if you can get a feel for what they're thinking? What they might expect in return for setting up shop with us?"

"Sure Jim, no problem," she said enthusiastically, confidently. She wouldn't have gotten the promotion to begin with if Jim didn't feel he could count on her. Jim smiled looking down at her breasts. That was the only thing that had ever raised any suspicions with her regarding her promotion. Jim was known to be a bit of a womanizer, and though he'd not come right out and approached her sexually, there'd been plenty of hints, a few off colored jokes, and then of course the obvious blatant stares at her chest. Though she really only had herself to blame for that tonight anyway. She knew as well as he obviously did, that her rather prominent breasts looked particularly attractive through the blouse she was wearing. Not to mention her long shapely legs that she knew she was showing off beneath the short, almost too short of a skirt she had on in addition to that. Jim smiled and then winked. 

"Whatever's necessary, you know the drill," he told her. "Wherever they'd like to eat...whatever they'd like to drink...woo them, whatever it takes," he'd said once again emphasizing the word.

They had soon after driven out to the sight, though Christopher had followed them in his own car, begging off on going out to dinner afterwards. Mike on the other hand had been far more friendly, very outgoing and easy to talk to, not to mention being easy on the eyes. She had found herself entertaining a few thoughts, naughty ones. Wondering what he would look like naked, in bed laying next to her. His almost boyish blonde hair, dark brown eyes, chiseled very masculine features could have had him posing on the cover of any fashion magazine. But here he was instead, not even fifty yet, and already the CEO of a major clothing chain, and he was obviously showing signs of being interested in her to boot! Twice, she had seen him glancing at her partially exposed thigh as she drove the car, once even reaching over to just briefly rest his hand on her leg as they discussed the possible competitors who might also be interested in moving in. She'd felt a flurry of goose bumps racing up and down her arms, her neck, and over her breasts. She had felt her nipples stiffen at the all too brief contact, wishing he had left his hand remain where it had been...all too briefly. She'd given him assurance that even if they did, he'd have the biggest area, the best access, the best of everything. Whatever he wanted... He had smiled at that. 

"Whatever I want?" She'd heard him say. Remembering her boss's words just before they'd left. 

"Whatever it takes."

Mike had been impressed over the proposed sight, walking it together, discussing and imagining how it would all look in comparison to the model he had seen earlier. It was just hot enough outside that she had taken off her jacket, tossing it over her shoulder as they walked about. She could still feel the press of her hard nipples, the lacy thin sheer bra not helping much, nor concealing her fairly obvious predicament. She had caught him looking at her, looking at her tits, normally she might have taken some offence in that, but not today. She wanted him to look, wanted to see his smile, his reaction, especially when she let him know she'd seen him looking, and had welcomed it.

She'd suggested a place for dinner. He'd declined that one, recommending another, a place a bit more intimate, good food, but far more cozy and intimate. Mandy had always wanted to go there herself, but she and Bill never had. Now was as good a time as any. The fact that it would be just she and Mike alone, was even better. Already she could feel the wetness forming between her legs in anticipation of more, a lot more.

**

It was early yet, but the place was starting to fill up pretty fast. "Let's grab a booth before they're all gone," she suggested. "There...that one," she said standing not giving Bill a chance to really consider it, though he did so briefly even then. There was nothing to go home to however, nothing but a cold dinner and TV. Here at least he had someone to talk to, someone very attractive in addition to that. It was far better than going home to an empty house. They carried their drinks over to the table. "I'll be right back," she said smiling, and then turned heading off towards the restrooms. Bill watched her go, following her with his eyes. She had nice legs, nearly as nice as Mandy's were.

Mandy. She'd told him not to wait up for her. Well, he certainly wouldn't be doing that. He smiled, maybe she'd actually get home before he did, and then who'd not be waiting up for whom?" He felt the stiffening of his cock, making a quick unobserved move in adjusting himself a bit more comfortably. He had no expectations of anything actually happening, but you never knew. Susan seemed to like him, perhaps even be a little attracted to him. She hadn't been overly flirtatious, but they had laughed, shared a few jokes and had obviously gotten comfortable enough for her to want to spend a little more time together. Maybe her situation wasn't much different than his own. He turned just in time to notice her walking back. There was something different in the way that she did, and then it dawned on him, she wasn't wearing a bra! He had noticed the tell tale press of her bra strap as she'd sauntered away into the bathroom. Walking back towards him now, the suggestive jiggle of her breasts, the hard pointed tips almost obscenely pressing against the thin material of her sweater assured him of the fact that she now wasn't. "What else had she taken off while she was in there?" He wondered.

He'd expected her to slide in to the booth sitting across from him. But she didn't, sliding in next to him instead, sitting where they could both see the majority of the other patrons, yet secluded in a way against the far back wall, unobserved, unapproached by anyone else needing a table. He could feel the press of her thigh wedged comfortably against his when she did, one hand reaching for her glass as she took a drink, the other suddenly resting on his leg. He felt her fingers lightly trace an imaginary line of tiny circles on his upper thigh, felt his cock stiffen even harder than it had been, once again almost uncomfortably positioned. Her fingers dangerously close to discovering that if she was to widen her playful drawings, and then before he knew it, she had. He felt the tip of one finger brush against the side of his rock hard shaft, felt her nail suddenly dig in deeper along the side of it, now running up the entire length of it towards the head. Here she again lingered, a light teasing touch as she surrounded it playfully before allowing her finger to once again travel back down in the opposite direction. Bill took a sip of his drink, dropping his own hand down beneath the table. He placed it directly upon her own leg, feeling the contact of bare flesh as he did so. He began teasing her in much the same way she continued teasing him, tempting fate, running his finger tips briefly beneath the hem of her skirt. Susan shifted, lifting herself up, and in doing so, bunching the back of her skirt entirely behind her. He had looked over watching as she did that, her bare ass clearly showing through before she had sat back down again. He knew then, her bra wasn't the only thing she had taken off.




Chance



They had ordered another round of drinks, this time a beer. Susan had done the same. Even then, Bill knew they'd have to sit there for a while nursing those before it would be safe enough to drive home. But what had been thrilling was when their waitress had come over to take their order. He had continued to feel Susan's hand now firmly grasping his prick through his pants, squeezing him playfully, wantonly as the waitress took their order, completely oblivious as to what was going on beneath the table. And even if she wasn't, even if she'd suspected anything, she hadn't let on, though smiling sweetly promising to return shortly with their drinks. He had then felt her hand on his, lifting it, placing it, she had done so, letting him know in no uncertain terms what she wanted, what she needed. What he needed now, and had been needing for far too fucking long! She was wet, her pussy was literally soaked as his finger slid deeply and easily inside her. Bill was still finger-fucking her cunt when the waitress returned with their beers, once again smiling down at them asking if there was anything else she could get for them.

"Yeah, a few more napkins," Bill had thought, saying, "No thank you instead, we're good." Susan now escalated the excitement, the danger, her fingers working down the zipper on his slacks, her hand burrowing inside, finding and then freeing his member. As hot as it was inside the bar now, the cooler air on his now exposed cock felt exhilarating, though just having his dick held, toyed and played with there beneath the table had a lot to do with that. He felt her squeeze the swollen bulbous head of his prick, felt the trickle of precum ooze from the tip as she gathered it up, smearing it around the crown of his cock-tip further pleasuring and exciting him even more.

Somewhat awkward now, and perhaps a bit too obvious, Bill removed his hand from between Susan's legs, especially as she was so intent now on fondling his prick. He was able to reach over however, lifting up one side of her sweater just enough to slip his hand inside onto her breast where he fondled it playfully, easily locating her hard thick nipple, pinching it, hearing her squeal quietly in delight as he did so. Susan again squeezed his prick, found another nice thick dollop of his cream, took a quick look about, lifted her sweater and applied his juice to her neglected nipple.

"Play with that one for a minute," she whispered hotly. He did so, smearing his own juice around and about it, delighting in the sensation of that hard little teat, so slick, so delightfully firm as he teased and pleasured it with his own juice.

It had been a long time since he'd felt a tit in his hand...too long. Admittedly he missed playing with Mandy's, but...obviously she didn't.

**

It was a nice intimate little restaurant, just as Mike said it would be. He'd even tipped the Host securing for them a selected table that Mike had asked for and pointed out. Seconds later they were led over towards it and seated. A nice cozy little half booth that looked out over the city below them, privacy walls on either side, ensuring that all the patrons there had a bit more privacy to enjoy their dinner in, and talk...or whatever else came to mind. Thoughts of which were already stirring inside Mandy's head as their waiter came over to take their drink orders and leave them with menus.

"I've always wanted to come here, but never have," Mandy stated looking over the menu. She almost jumped when she felt the press of Mike's hand on her leg nearer her knee.

"Well, maybe we'll have to rectify that then," he said grinning. She couldn't help but laugh, though nervously, the direct implication of his meaning not at all lost on her.

"I'm married," she said, though why she'd said that now and not earlier she had no idea. Especially when she'd secretly been fantasizing about Mike all day, and even more so on the drive over to the restaurant. Now sitting here with his hand still softly caressing her knee, her leg, she had thrown that comment out, wondering how he might respond to it, which he did.

"So?"

"What about you?" She asked dodging the direct challenge, though allowing him to caress her, enjoying the sensation the feel of his strong firm hand now expertly caressing her upper thigh, fingers just teasing the still hidden flesh beneath her skirt.

"Divorced," he responded simply letting her know by the tone of his voice that it wasn't a topic to be continued, though immediately reverting back to the topic of her being married when he did. "Happily?"

"No, not for quite a while," she honestly responded thinking back earlier in the day as she'd watched Bill storm out of the house without so much as another word. It used to be they would kiss good-bye every morning, say the words "I love you," and mean it. "When did that stop? And why?" She found herself musing, though Mike's roaming fingers immediately brought her back to the present. She felt the trickle of moisture gathering between her legs, the tingling sensation of arousal coursing through her breasts and nipples. She knew as she sat there that her tiny little black thong would soon be soaked if he kept this up...if she allowed him to.

Mike had ordered a nice bottle of wine, the waiter had taken their orders and then left, leaving them in private to enjoy their evening together. The wine was superb. It always did tend to sooth and mellow her out whenever she had it, and lately, she wanted to feel relaxed, the tension and stress of the past several days catching up with her. When was the last time she'd actually had an orgasm anyway? Days ago now, well over a week at least, and even then leaving her feeling less than satisfactory. Sitting there on the toilet seat crying her eyes out for long minutes afterwards while Bill lay snoring in the bed totally oblivious to her needs and desires.

She had wanted the feel of a nice hard cock inside her, she had had to settle for her own fingers now instead. She sat, wondering, imagining what Mike's might look like, wondering if he was hard now, as horny and as needful as she was. She lifted her glass, sipping it, looking over the rim of it taking him in. As she did, she felt his fingers slide even further up her dress, the tips of his fingers suddenly finding the thin patch of material protecting her sex. Mandy spread her legs, took another sip of her wine and moaned as Mike's fingertip scratched at the intimate spot where her clit was.

"Take them off," he told her.

Mandy sat her glass back down on their table. She leaned over quickly reaching up, grabbing the sides of her thong yanking it down. She managed to slip it over her high heels, and then removed it, showing him the discarded garment briefly before meaning to stuff it into her purse. Mike grabbed it instead, sticking it beneath his nose, smelling the fragrance of her arousal. Mandy felt a jolt of electricity watching him do this. It was decadent, wickedly naughty, and it excited her even more seeing him do this. Mike stuffed her discarded thong into his jacket pocket rather than handing it back. She then saw him lower his hands beneath the table fumbling around briefly, he sat up, swiveled in his seat slightly turning towards her. She gasped when he did. Mike's cock stood stiff and straight beckoning to her. As though hypnotized by it, she reached out, her hand coming around to clasp it, then stroking it. She saw the pearly little bubble of arousal seep from the head of his prick, taking it and then applying it to the crown as she gingerly sat there fondling it.

"Are you ready to order?"

The sound of the waiters voice had startled her, but the way Mike sat, she knew there was no way he could have seen anything. The fact that she sat there however, holding onto his dick, giving the waiter her order as Mike then did, merely added to the erotic atmosphere of the moment. He left shortly afterwards, and the moment he had, Mandy surprised herself leaning over, and then wrapping the lips of her mouth around his hard firm erection instead.

She had always loved giving blowjobs, as funny as that might sound, she had enjoyed doing it immensely, and had missed doing so. Bill had always commented on her talent in doing that, appreciating the way she so lovingly licked him and sucked him, returning the favor in kind, his talented tongue never once failing to bring her as much joy and pleasure as she had enjoyed giving him. She continued licking, sucking, the danger and excitement of actually doing so in the restaurant, the possibility of being discovered merely adding to her own level of desire, the taste and smell of Bill's cock as she did heightening her senses.

**

"I want you to fuck me," Susan had told him. 

"Here? Now?" Bill had joked a bit nervously, trying to make light of it, though trying to think of a way out of it, and then realizing he really didn't want to do that now either. "Where?" He finally asked seriously.

"My girlfriend has a place not too far from here. She's currently out of town, she gave me a key to it a long time ago, to use if and when I ever needed to. If there was ever a time that I needed to, it would be now," she told him.

Bill tossed down a twenty, more than enough to cover the balance on their tab and leave a nice tip for their waitress. Once again stuffing his still stiff prick back inside his pants, he still held his jacket in front as they walked out together towards the parking lot and their cars. Bill was plenty sober by now as was Susan, they'd spent the last hour nursing the single beers they had ordered. The parking lot itself was dark save for a single lamp burning at the far end. "I'll walk you to your car," he told her not wishing to leave her to head towards it on her own, especially as dark as it was. "I'll follow you from here," he'd added as they reached it.

He opened her car door, but rather than getting in Susan leaned against it. Standing there in the semi darkness, it reminded Bill of another time, another place. He leaned over kissing her neck, her face, her lips. His hands reaching down, lifting her sweater, her full breasts suddenly filling his hands as they stood there. Her exquisite firm tips pressed against his palms, he pinched them and toyed with them pleasurably, hearing her pleasured sighs as he did. The touch of her hand once again coming down to his zipper, pulling it, releasing it. The warmth of her hand as she drew him out, only then sitting down on the seat of her car, her legs still sticking outside the door as he stepped into them, between them, her mouth engulfing the length of his enormously hard prick.

**

Mandy had somehow managed to compose herself during dinner, though the fire she had felt between her legs earlier was still smoldering. The wine had helped to mellow her out somewhat, but she knew that even the tiniest spark would reignite the desire she had felt. She was still struggling with her emotions, teetering on the edge of doing something that she knew she could never undo, return from if she did. And the temptation was almost more than she could bare now as it was.

"Where can I drop you off?" she asked as they prepared to leave.

"My place," he said with a smile. "I had a friend of mine drop me off earlier, figured I would get a ride back, so...shall we?"

As they walked out to the parking lot, Mandy still felt a bit giddy, a little weak in the knees. She knew inside unequivocally, that in taking Mike back to his place that she'd end up in bed with him. She even considered the prospect of spending the entire night, "Whatever it takes," she then said to herself, though wondering as she thought that, if she wasn't just using that as the excuse, the justification for her actions. The tiny spark between her legs suddenly flaring as they reached the car, standing for a moment, Mike's hands pulling her blouse out from her skirt, coming up to cup her tits, massaging them through the sheer lace of her bra, one hand now down between her legs, his fingers easily penetrating her cunt, capturing and then teasing her clit as he fingered her to a quick very intense orgasm. Even then, even afterwards as she collected herself, she needed more. She needed the feel of his prick buried deeply inside her, fucking her.

"How far away do you live anyway?" She asked breathlessly.

**

They were there in less than twenty minutes. Susan was standing in the doorway of a beautiful magnificent looking home waiting for Bill as he traveled up the short drive on foot, having parked his car a short distance away on the street where he could find a spot.

"Why didn't you just follow me in to the driveway?" she asked waiting for him.

"I didn't know if I should," Bill told her reaching the steps where she stood. "Nice house," he then added upon entering. It was indeed richly furnished, as he took her hand, allowing himself to be led upstairs along a slowly winding staircase, Susan then led him into one of several bedrooms where they undressed one another, soon falling into bed. He slid his rock hard cock deep inside the tight warmth of her soft pussy, slowly fucking her afterwards, the sensation and feel of her reminding him of better times. Bill felt a pang of guilt at his pleasure, but it had simply been too fucking long. He could no longer deny the desires that he had, he could no longer go on pretending that everything in his life was ok. After experiencing this again, the sensuality, spontaneity, and delight of sexual pleasure, never again would he deny himself from knowing and experiencing that. He plunged his prick in and out of Susan's cunt repeatedly until the stressful release of his semen filled her to overflowing. And even after he had spent himself, after he had sucked and licked her pussy into one mind blowing orgasm after another, he remembered and missed the sweet heavenly taste of Mandy's cunt, and wished for the first time in long while, that it was her instead of Susan that he was with now.

**

"Turn here," Mike told her as she swung her car into his drive. She hesitated, wondering if she should simply say goodnight and drive away. Sensing her reluctance perhaps, Mike turned towards her, once again kissing her passionately, his hands again on her breasts, her resolve quickly melting away. She turned off the engine, and then got out as he came around, taking her by the hand and up the steps into the house. She followed him up the staircase, and then into his bedroom. She stood allowing him to finish removing the rest of her clothing, and then his. He pulled her onto the bed with him, where she then straddled him, felt his hard erect prick slide heavenly deep inside the opening of her cunt. She fucked him wildly, eventually feeling his essence spurting deeply inside her, where her own climatic bliss quickly joined with his.

**

"Did you hear something?" Bill asked.

"Susan sat up in bed, might be my friend," she said. "He said he might come home tonight, so most likely he did."

"He?" I thought you said she earlier!" Bill exclaimed a bit worriedly. 

"No...I'm pretty sure I said he, and besides, nothing to worry about, we're all good close friends here now aren't we?" she asked. "We've played and partied several times together, in fact, I'm willing to bet that he's not alone here either. Tell you what, I'll go down and see if he's busy, or if they're even interested in partying with us, if they are...I'll come back and get you and we'll take it from there."

"I don't know Susan, it really is getting late, maybe I'd better think about getting myself home now."

"Oh come on Bill...don't be a spoil sport, just give me a minute, I think after you have a chance to meet Mike, you'll be pleasantly surprised."

**

Mandy was shocked to hear the soft knock on the bedroom door, though Mike answered before she had a chance to do much of anything.

"Come on in Sue...I've been expecting you," Mike said. Seconds later the door opened and in walked this woman who Mandy had never seen before, and certainly wasn't expecting to. She was naked, and very obviously attractive.

"What the fuck?" Mandy exclaimed upon seeing her, obviously confused, though the woman basically ignored her all together.

"Hi sweetie, thought we heard you earlier, but figured to give you enough time to have a little fun on your own before we just up and invited you to join us."

"Join who?" Mandy asked a bit worriedly. "And who is this anyway?" she then asked.

Mike turned towards her. "Well, I guess it's time we told you the truth here. Mandy Jenkins? This is my wife Susan, Susan...Mandy Jenkins, this is the woman of the firm I'm considering doing business with."

"You're wife?" Mandy exclaimed. "I thought you told me you were divorced!"

"Well? So? You told me you were married, but you came here anyway? So what does it matter?" And besides, Susan's got a friend here as well, we sort of do this on occasion for fun, perhaps after you meet him, you might be inclined to just go along, party with us...have some fun. And I promise you...it will go a long, long way in cementing our new partnership."

"Fuck!" Mandy said totally confused, but she felt trapped as well, "Well, ok...but I'm not promising anything," she told them both. "Not until after I've had a chance to meet him at least."

"No sweat," Susan said excitedly turning to leave the room. I'll go back and bring him in and introduce you to..."

"Not necessary," Bill said stepping into the room nearly colliding into Susan as she turned to leave. "The name's Bill...Bill Jenkins. And the woman sitting there on the bed with her mouth open is my wife."

"Your what?" Both Mike and Susan said near simultaneously.

"My wife," Bill said once again. "And I think...under the circumstances, that she and I have a lot to discuss."

Mandy finally found her own voice. "You...you and Susan? Were fucking too?"

"Like I said darling, I think...you and I have a few things we need to talk about, I think that it might be a good idea if we were to excuse ourselves and go home now in order to do that.

"You're...not mad? Angry?"

"Why should I be? You haven't done anything I haven't done obviously. So what's the point? The issue here is, we going to finally sit down and talk about it? Or keep pushing things away and making whatever it was we once had, too hard to find again? We going to continue to fight over coffee grounds? What program we want to watch on TV? Or get back to fucking and loving one another the way we used to?"

Mandy smiled upon hearing that. "I rather like hearing about the fucking part...can we do that first before we talk?"

"Before...and then afterwards," Bill said. "Now come on, get dressed, I'll follow you home..."



Chance



The day dawned wet and rainy. Their mingled moans still echoed in the room, the smell of their bodies together permeating the stale air. They had spent the day in each other's arms, forsaking spouses, carefully crafted identities, even the jobs they told people they loved. 

It started innocently, she was outside a bar, having a smoke, relaxing a bit before she jumped on the train and headed home. He asked her for a cigarette, maybe wishing for relaxation, to rekindle a lost memory, he couldn't be sure. Neither could remember their conversation; there was an introduction, perhaps a shared joke. 

"You got another cig?"

"Yeah." She digs through her purse, finally finding the pack and handing it to him with a shaky grin. He takes it, fingers warming against hers for a moment, before shaking one out and putting it in his mouth.

"Thanks. My wife keeps telling me I need to quit."

"Yeah, mine too. Oh, not—I mean, my husband." She laughed nervously, shaking her head at the mistake, moving closer to light his cigarette. Her hands cup the flame protectively for a moment before the tip catches. 

He smiled and shrugged, blowing a puff of smoky air toward the grey sky. 

"You from around here?"

"Yeah. Born and raised in the East Bay. You?"

"East coast, Long Island, actually." 

"Oh I see. Why'd you come here? Running away from the weather?" 

She pushed damp curls back from her face and smiled, trying to remember the last time she cared what anyone thought of her looks. He glanced down tapping a finger against his cigarette and laughed. 

"Sure. I mean, not really. The wife, she hates it over there. Says it gets too cold in the winter. I proposed, and she says yes, but only if we're gonna be in California." His eyes meet hers for a moment, and she feels her cheeks grow warm as she thinks of him staring at her face, mocha complexion, light red lips, cheeks a bit pink in the cold, the expanse of her neck, bared to the elements. 

His eyes travel, stop at her ample breasts, and she feels her nipples growing hard. He fidgets, as if suddenly afraid or surprised, she's not sure which. She laughs, reaches out a careless hand and smoothes the shoulder of his jacket, dusting small raindrops into formless blobs of water. 

"Blackmail. Effective technique." He nods, alluding to their conversation, it seems like they began talking ages ago. 

"Would you like—to get a drink?" He is hesitant, but she is sure. 

"Yeah." She lets him lead the way back to the bar, where their hesitant conversation merges into one loud, long laugh. It has been so long since she let go, when he invites her to a room in a hotel, she can hardly say no, is not afraid of seeming immodest, simply nods her head, and slips her hand into his. 

His long fingers curl around her shorter ones. He has been trying to find a way to get close to her all night, so he simply pulls her body into his, and they walk out, looking for all the world like two lovers who have known each other for years, ready to renew their acquaintance. 

When they reach the room, he gets nervous again, unsure about where to put his hands until she glides forward, pushes his coat from suddenly hunched shoulders and whispers, 

"It's okay," her lips brushing his ear. Her soft touch releases him, and he pulls her to him, takes her sweater off and kisses her neck, all she is wearing underneath is an old white tanktop, threadbare, but comfortable, his hands cup her breasts and she pulls his shirt from his slacks, finds an undershirt and pulls it up too, desperate in her quest to reach skin. 

He shudders as her palms caress his lower back, and belly, and their lips meet finally, touching tentatively, then more firmly, tongues exploring and caressing this newly found space, until she pulls back, almost violent in her need, pulling at his tie, his shirt, until she has him naked from the waist up, light brown skin shivering under her fingers, his mouth again seeking hers.

His hands find the soft expanse of her belly and he pushes her shirt up around her neck, starts unbuttoning her shirt. She can feel herself getting wetter, and moans as his fingers slide into her pants and curl gently against her cotton panties. One finger slides along the her pussy lips, and her hips move involuntarily toward him. 

"You have on too many clothes," he mumbles against her lips. She laughs and pulls him against her, pressing her breasts to his chest, then his mouth to hers, he sweeps his hands down her back, and under her, then lifts her so she can wrap her legs around his waist. They fall to the bed and she rolls, sitting up she straddles him, breasts swaying over his mouth. 

She unbuckles his pants and soon they are both naked, tangled in each other's arms, mouths trying to memorize bodies that have just met. His penis is pressing against her belly and his fingers between her legs beckon her closer, he presses two fingers to her clit, and at the first touch, she moans and clenches her thighs. She sits up and takes his cock in her hand, it is heavy and throbbing, and as she slides her hand over the head, his his body stiffens, and he kisses her, hard and wet, moaning. His hands cup her hips, fingers indenting the soft flesh, and she lifts herself, wet pussy lips moistening the tip of his cock. 

She shudders at the touch of his flesh, and a quick breath hisses out between his teeth. She reaches between her legs, positioning herself. He kisses her breast, tongue and lips pulling on her nipple. She moans, lowering herself onto his cock, and he pushes upward, slowly. 

She leans back, disheveled curls a halo around her face. Her eyes are closed, and she throws her head back, hands charting the length of his belly and chest. She cries out as his blunt width stretches her, she sways in his arms and it is only his firm grip on her hips that keeps her upright. He sits up suddenly and pulls her to him, brown eyes fierce, and she moans as that movement shifts his hard length inside her. 

She begins to move her hips, slowly, then more purposefully, grinding her g-spot against his dick, fusing their mouths in a kiss that never seems to end, his hands are on her hips, then kneading her breasts, she arches her back and throws her head back, he moans deep and loud as he buries his face in her chest, kissing her breasts, then pushes himself to his knees, needing to thrust and meet her movements. 

He is holding her hips so tightly his fingers are making indentations in her ass and she has her hands clasped around his neck as he feasts on her breasts. With each movement she moans and catches her breath, her hips are moving wildly, and she cums first, crying out and moaning as she clenches around him, shivering, wet, warm and tight. He growls deep in his throat, and she can feel his dick spasm as he cums, his hands grip her ass even tighter, and she pulls his face to hers, and kisses him slowly, her tongue slowly exploring his lips, then his mouth. 

His lips are slack, and he exhales slowly, leaning back to lay down completely, as if cumming had robbed his body of all strength. She follows him, and pulls a sheet over their spent bodies. His soft cock is still inside her body, she clenches her inner muscles and he shudders. 

They don't stay the night, both have business meetings in the early the next day and must prepare. As they head back out into the rainy evening, she glances over at him. 

"Do you come to the city for work often?" 

He pauses, and then meets her eyes. His pupils expand into grey irises. 

"I do. You?"

"I'm always here." She looks at him from under her lashes. He resists an urge to kiss her again, and restart everything. 

"I love smoking on Wednesdays."



Chance: A Day in May



Chapter 01 - Stopping by the side of the road... 

The sky was one of those high, impossibly blue cloudless skies so often found in Eastern Washington in May. Heading west, I was driving out of Spokane in my 21-foot Class C motorhome. I'd been visiting my son, his wife, and most importantly my three granddaughters in Spokane. The idea was to have a visit just before Memorial Day weekend. That way I'd miss the holiday traffic, they would see their dad and granddad, and Brent and his family would have the long weekend to themselves without granddad getting in the way. 

It had been a great few days, nice break from the routine in Seattle. As always Brent and his wife Marilyn wanted me to stay over for the holiday. Made me feel good but now I was down. Since my wife's death 2 years ago after 37 years of marriage, I'd tried to avoid 'bothering' people. Sure, it was a sign of depression, so go take a hike. It was my depression. 

To top off my blues, the beautiful 85-degree day was too hot for me after spending all those years in Seattle. Not that it really rains 12 months a year in Seattle, but anything over 80 degrees is a real heat wave over on the wet side of the state on t'other side of the Cascade Mountains. The drive hadn't really started yet but I decided to pull into the next rest stop, use the 'facilities' and get a cup of the free coffee handed out by the volunteers. Pulling in I parked on the 'heavies' side. Didn't need to, as my rig was only 21 feet long, but I'd gotten accustomed parking alongside the big trucks.

Pulling to a smooth stop then yanking on the brake I stepped out of the air-conditioned cab into a really beautiful spring day. It was hot on the asphalt but stepping onto the concrete sidewalk the hot oil stench disappeared, replaced by the aroma of newly mown grass. And the heat also became comfortable, even for one of us wet-siders as we Seattleites were called. Strolling to the large brick building housing the restrooms I counted, found a sign with 3 letters and walked in after exchanging my prescription sunglasses for my regular pair. 

Leaving the dimly lit john I strolled back into the dazzle of the morning sun. When I turned toward where my rig was parked I was stopped in my tracks. 

Just stepping out of her car maybe 100 feet from me was a 'Woman'. When I was younger I would have said it was love at first sight. That quick glance convinced me the world required I spend as much time as possible examining this treasure. Of course It was necessary I do it without making a complete jackass of myself. I'd that entirely too often in the past. Clumsily fumbling my dark glasses from the dark leather case on my belt I began trying to swap them with the regular glasses I had worn inside. Of course I had to keep stealing quick glances as she swayed toward me and I bobbled going for the cover of the sunglasses; surreptitiously I hoped. 

By the time I swapped glasses she was maybe 40 feet away, and I felt safe turning toward her and beginning the business of ogling her good. She was wearing dark glasses too, so I figured I was safe. There was no way she could see where my eyes were directed as long as I just faced my rig and didn't look directly at her.

Now you've got to understand what I was seeing. She was wearing a sundress made of some kind of really clingy, swirling material. It had spaghetti straps which showed off her shoulders to perfection. Bright golden flowers were cheerfully splashed onto a lovely light tan background. The color combination was a perfect compliment to her dark blond hair and the lovely light tan of her shoulders. She wore her hair loose, hanging to her square shoulders. My take was that it was one of those expensive 'dos.' It gave her a wind-tousled or just out of bed look. You take your choice about which look you would pick. I knew which one I picked. The slight breeze was moving her hair, adding to the effect.

In my mind her hair was mussed from my fondling and our exertions. 

The soft, silky materiel of the very modest dress swelled and clung where she swelled, then pulled in and clasped her where her curves dictated. As I said, it was a perfect compliment to her soft golden coloring. The way it clung to her bust, hips and very sexy little tummy was affecting me more than if she were nude. Some women know that truth, and she was one of them; a woman intelligently dressed can be far more attractive than a nude. Where the dress swelled over her breasts it made my palms itch. Her breasts were perfect for her frame. Just use your imagination and create the perfect shape, that was her. 

And something marvelous in this day when the flat, athletic, near anorexic body is worshipped, she had this little tummy. It was accented by the dress that made me want to kiss and lick it, and then rub our bellies together.

I guessed she was 35 or so; not a young hard-body with limited experience that she assumed was all there was to know. Instead this was a woman who had been there a few times and felt the heat. In her case the world had turned out a superior product.

Her hips, and legs, the way she glided across the ground, the poetry of her every movement, the big wide grin she threw at me when she was about 8 feet away... Oops! Oh God! I'd been busted! She damn well knew where my eyes were directed. Perhaps it was the drool coming out of the side of my mouth that gave me away. Embarrassed at being caught, I gave her one of my big, friendly, embarrassed grins and we both said hi as she passed me. 

I slunk over to my rig, forgetting about the coffee I was going to pick up at the volunteer stand, and consoled myself that she hadn't been one of those that picked a fight with a man for admiring her. She'd very obviously been amused, and I could only hope she was secretly pleased at the compliment my admiration had paid her. 

Of course a woman looking like she did must be accustomed to male attention. There were several ways people so physically blessed reacted, both men and women. Some took it as their due for the superior being they were. Others were ruefully amused at the attention people paid to what they considered their least important attributes. From my blonde's reaction, I suspected she was one of those rare women that had been truly blessed physically who accepted their physical gifts and recognized how shallow such gifts really were. She would know her worth extended far beyond her shape, compelling as it was. She enjoyed her assets, was proud of them, but knew the skin-deep gifts were unimportant compared to the mind and heart where her true value was found. It was usually true of such people that their minds and talents were very great and rare indeed.

What my blonde had seen was a man just under average height at 5 foot 8. He carried a tad bit too much weight, had short iron gray hair and a full, short-cropped beard now turned almost pure white. The weight was distributed evenly over a square, wide shouldered frame such that while my 210 pounds was too much, it fit the nick-name given me when I was younger, "Fireplug." But what was most important was the smile I had thrown at her. 

Over my 6o plus years I've learned I can usually charm almost anyone with my smile and grin. The one I'd thrown at her had the desired effect. When she saw my grin her smile had turned to an open mouthed wide grin. What made that grin effective and probably my greatest tool for making friend, was that I was sincere. 

I prided myself in being fit for my age, but could never be mistaken for someone my blonde's age. So while I admired her immensely from afar, I knew it would only be from afar. Even if we became good friends my admiration would still have to be at a distance.

Back in my rig I decided to wait and treat myself to watching her return saunter to her car. That would make the whole day more pleasant. 

She was that good looking.

Maybe 5 minutes later she exited the ladies and turned her long strides toward where she had parked her car, a gleaming dark blue BMW parked alongside the curb between the red brick building and where I waited in my motorhome. About half way to the car a man called to her from one of the bank of phones standing against the brick building. She stopped and waited for him as he marched briskly to where she now stood, regally waiting for him. 

He was an officious looking man, carrying too much weight in his belly and ass, dressed in pressed tan chino's and wearing a lemon yellow golf shirt. His shoes looked like Gucci's from where I was sitting. His face wore a determined and self-important look as he bustled over. I knew at a glance that the 'Entire Weight of the Future of Western Civilization' rested on his 'Square, Strong, Competent Shoulders'. At least that was his opinion.

He started speaking before he reached my blonde. I could see her shoulders tense all the way from where I was sitting though I couldn't hear what he had to say. By the time he was standing before her she had brought her feet together, squared her whole stance and crossed her arms in front of her breasts. 

She was in a classic angry, defensive, closed posture position. Anyone paying the least bit of attention to her body language knew this was one angry upset female. She was fighting mad. I made a little bet with myself that unless one was very observant or knew her, she would not let anyone know how truly pissed she was.

The man paid no attention to the signs, I wondered if he even saw them. Once standing before my Queen he paused to inform her brusquely of whatever he had to inform her. Then the fat ass about-faced and marched back to the phones. Officiously pulling a small address book from his pocket he picked up one of the phones. As I watched, he snapped orders to someone on the other end of the line before standing rigidly, looking at his watch while keeping the phone loosely pressed against his ear with his shoulder. The lackey at the other end of the phone connection was going to be held responsible for every second the great man was kept waiting.

My blonde friend spun on her heel and stomped to her car. Surprisingly it was an older BMW, but it looked like she had driven it new off the showroom floor this morning. There she leaned back against the right front fender with her arms crossed, still very angry. 

I didn't know the lady, nor did I know the man. However I already disliked the egotistical son-of-a-bitch, just on general principles. I have never been fond of men giving off the aura he was sending, detectable from 25 yards away. 

Slipping quietly out of my motorhome, I strode purposefully to the stand where volunteers from the Kiwanis and their ladies were handing out free coffee. Once there I asked for two coffees, one black and one with cream and sugar. With a cup in each hand, I walked back toward my rig. Near the BMW where the blonde stood fuming and leaning against the fender, I turned and walked directly over to her.

"Do you like your coffee black, or with cream and sugar?" I asked when I reached her.

"What?" she snapped at me, breaking the angry glare directed toward her traveling companion as he stood studying his watch. Startled, she stared at me as I saw her trying to puzzle out where she had seen me before.

"Well, I came to ask your forgiveness. Do you like sugar and cream in your coffee, or do you like it black?" I asked again as I held both cups out for her to choose.

"Uh, how do you drink yours?" she asked while she studied the two cups, one obviously black the other what I call a milk shake.

Smiling, I answered, "This is for you, what I like isn't important here. I'm guessing you like black, but I thought I'd better come prepared just in case."

Glancing up at me she answered, "You're right, I prefer it black. But, why are you asking forgive... Oh yeah! You are the guy I caught inspecting my wardrobe. Sorry, but I'm married, that's my husband over there, so I fear you struck out again." And she smiled at me, but a much-reduced plastic smile, not at all like the happily amused one with which she had graced me when she caught me staring.

"Oh nuts! I guess I deserved that. No, I'm not trying to pick you up, but I wanted to ask forgiveness for being caught ogling. Nothing wrong with ogling, but being caught is very impolite. Please, take the coffee and my apologies for both the ogling and placing you in a position of needing to get rid of a masher. You do it very well, and gently may I add," holding out the black coffee. "Besides," I added, "it's free," and smiled back at her.

She hesitated for a moment then reached to take the black coffee, blushing prettily. "I guess I should offer my apology for jumping to conclusions. I did find the approach pretty smooth by the way. Can I ask a strange question? How did you guess what kind of coffee I prefer?"

"Oh boy, now I am in trouble," and here I paused for just a moment to think how to put this. "A couple reasons, the first is very straight forward. I have found a lot, not all by any means, but a lot of well-centered, self-confident women seem to prefer their coffee black," and then I stopped, pretending that was both reasons. 

"Very well said, now I want the other shoe please," she demanded, looking me straight in the eye.

"Uh, well this sounds like it contradicts my professing to not being a masher. Sure you want to hear it?"

Chuckling she said, "Even more so now, buster. What gives?"

"Boy is this going to sound weak, but it's the truth." I took a deep breath and continued, "No one as sweet as you is going to need or probably even want more sweetness," I replied and kind of looked at her from under my eyebrows. "There's a lot more to it than that, but that's the gist of my thinking."

A deep, blustering voice from behind me interrupted, "Helen, who is this yahoo? Buster, get clear, that's my wife and she is definitely not available."

I turned, holding the sugar and cream coffee in my hand. It had to be the lady's husband. At least I now knew her name was Helen. I was either going to pour the coffee over his pants, or throw it in his face, whichever was appropriate and if needed.

Instead I heard the jerk say, in a totally different voice. "Oh! My god! It's Duncan Handsworth! I heard you speak at that conference in Hawaii what, three years ago! I never had a chance to meet you then. Helen, you never told my you knew Mr. Handsworth!" He sounded like a 'yes man' sucking up to the boss. 

Smiling slightly, I answered him, "Oh, we're just casual friends. I'm sorry..."

With a twinkle in her eye, Helen broke in, "Duncan, I'd like to introduce my husband, Gerald Conningham. Darling, when Duncan saw me leaning against my car he brought me the coffee. I think I looked kind of lost, and he thought that maybe he could help. Gerry what in the world came up? You promised you wouldn't bring your cell phone so we could have these two weeks just to ourselves."

Conningham puffed himself up a bit, looking officious. "Dear, I left my phone at home as promised but I did take my pager along in case there was an emergency and there was a buzz from it about 5 miles down the road. That's why I stopped here, to see what the buzz was about." Here he smirked at me, to see if I had caught his word play. 

I smiled at him and gave a polite chuckle to let him know I heard. The near quip didn't deserve more than that. Helen was standing half behind me where her husband couldn't see her hand, and she poked me in the back, giving a little snort her husband couldn't have heard. My mannerism hadn't fooled her.

"Anyway, dear, there has been a problem in Manila that I'm afraid I have to handle, and then I've got to go to Peoria to handle things on this end of the line. I shouldn't be gone more than three weeks. If it's any longer I'll let you know, OK?"

Helen looked like Mt. St. Helens two days before it blew, swollen with searing hot acidic ash and molten rock ready to explode. "How soon will you be leaving?" she asked him, speaking very slowly and enunciating each syllable clearly.

"I'm sorry dear, but I have a flight out of Spokane International in four hours. Plenty of time for you to drive me there and I can pick up anything I need once I get to the Philippines. I brought my traveling suit with me, so I'll change into that at the airport. It will work out well. You can still go on to Chelan and enjoy the lake."

"Yeah, maybe," was Helen's answer.

Good old Gerry opened the passenger door of the BMW and climbed in. Helen looked at the coffee still in the cup I brought her, grimaced, then threw it out as she gave me a tiny smile. Then she walked around behind the BMW and opened the door. I followed behind her on my way to my rig while admiring her walk. Opening the drivers door, she gave me a genuine smile, "Duncan, your apology for running into me is unnecessary; you're the only good thing that's happened so far today. You can, run into me again, any time." Then she slid into the car. Her dress riding well up her thighs as she did so, giving me a wonderful look at legs that deserved to be called gams. They were among the nicest I have ever seen. Smiling mischievously she pulled her legs slowly into the car before shutting the door. Watching those long, long legs I thought my heart was going to stop. Giving me another tiny smile she cranked the engine and pulled smoothly away from the curb. She was going well past the speed limit of 70 when she whipped onto the freeway just a moment later.

Sighing I tossed the extra coffee into one of the concrete trash receptacles before moseying back to my motorhome and following in her tire prints, albeit a whole lot slower. Motorhome's just aren't built for that kind of speed. The day was brighter from having met her, but with her departure the grass was a touch less green, the sky a smidgen paler a blue. She would be driving west toward Ritzville and then slingshot around to head east back to Spokane at the first off ramp. She would be passing me going back the other way before I ever got close to Ritzville. Meeting her had been a real pleasure.

Meeting her husband had been a pain, but she more than offset loudmouth's irritating ways.