Where it happened: Summer House
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 5
Category: Straight
I was bored as I arrived at the small dinner party. As I approached the front door, I questioned my decision to attend at all and it was only with a surge of resolve that I pushed the button to ring the door bell.
When the door opened, the hostess greeted me warmly and led me through the house, so that I might greet the other guests. Most I had known for years and needed no introduction. Only two were strangers to me; Mickey, a kid of twenty or so and Dave who was a rather unkept, sloppy obese man that I decided I would ignore in the futrure.
Then, I was directed into the kitchen and as I saw her, I felt my body quicken and my senses take on a fully alert status. Standing nearly six feet tall, brown hair, metal rim glasses, lacking makeup and dressed in blue jeans and a red pullover blouse that hung loosely on her nicely apportioned frame, mid forties, she was a typical mother of three nearly grown children. She would attract little attention walking past a construction site.
As I first espied her, from across the room, it had the effect of a lightning bolt on me. I was momentarily stunned by her aura and unable to comprehend why. Suddenly I wanted her. Then, the hostess introduced us and I learned her name was Julie. It might have been anything.
As the evening wore on, I found myself casting frequent covert glances at Julie. At dinner, I ate little as my mind concentrated on Julie who was seated next to her husband Dave. Then, even as my covert glances became even more lascivious and my desires surged totally out of control, Julie sat, apparently unaware of my attentions.
When the hostess brought up my wife’s recent death and the circumstances of the airplane crash, Julie looked my way and offered condolences. Her deep, nearly basso voice brought another surge of lust. .
Learning that Julie and Dave lived several hundred miles away and were only visiting our community looking for a summer home to purchase. It made little difference as she was apparently the happily married wife with three kids and I was in no position to interfere. This did not interfere with my covert admiration of her during the rest of the evening.
As I was departing the party, the ladies were each embracing me and wishing me a good evening. Last, I was embraced by Julie and something impelled me to whisper into her ear, “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. If you were free, I’d
be trying to take you home and make passionate love to you.” Then, as we parted I felt something. “Oh well! I’ll never see her again.” I thought.
For weeks after that, Julie remained fresh in my mind and late at night, in bed, I fantasized about her. Then, the memory faded. . . .
It was spring when the call came from her. Julie was in her newly acquired summer home and wanted me to come help move in and I, having nothing better to do thought it might be fun to get better acquainted with the family so I accepted.
The hour’s drive on the back roads was pleasant and I was glad I had accepted the invitation. On arriving, I was in good spirits as I parked the car next to the big nine passenger carryall.
As I approached the door, Julie came out to meet me. . .this time dressed in a red blouse and white shorts that were both stylish and conservative. They did her figure the justice it deserved. She looked different as we entered the summer house. “Where’s the rest of the family?” I asked.
“It’s just you and me!” she replied, “I left the rest of the family at home to come up and prepare the house for the summer.” Having said that she turned and embraced me. Nothing was said as she kissed me on the lips and I felt the old urge stronger than I’d ever felt it. Then, I was vaguely aware of our passage upstairs to the master bedroom or the bog queen bed with the covers turned down.
Minutes later, we were copulating. . .wild and with abandon. I was enjoying her big body as no other. For the next two days we opened the house and ate and enjoyed each other. The sex was without equal in my experience and we drove ourselves to the very limit of our endurance.
Monday morning, I left the summer home. Perhaps next year.
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