In my short story, Accidental Love, Sally literally runs into a van backing out in the parking lot, and the driver offers to calm her nerves with a cup of coffee. She accepts a ride home and invites him to stay for lunch. But Sally has been without sex for a few years and begins to feel she would like to offer him more than lunch... or maybe something quite different to munch on.
Because she has taken a tumble, she asks him to sit while she has a shower to freshen up. Then the fun starts:
I dived into the bathroom and showered quickly. I was about to fasten my bra and thought, no, damn it. I snatched up a sarong and tied it in a knot between my breasts. No bra. I looked at my panties. Hmm. What the heck. I could live without them too. When I emerged, though completely covered, I felt daring, reckless – and, with luck, alluring. I was completely naked beneath the light cotton sarong. My breasts swayed under the fabric and
tantalized my nipples.
Harry turned as I opened the bathroom door and his eyebrows went up as he saw my wet hair and damp sarong. I did a slow pirouette and said in a phony American drawl, ‘Does this outfit make me look fat?’
‘I told you before – nicely rounded.’ He came across to me. ‘Hey, I am not in such a rush for lunch that you don’t have time to dry yourself.’ He ran the back of his hand down the beads of water still on my shoulder and arm. ‘You’re still wet.’
He didn’t know the half of it. I was wet all right. That stroke down my arm had raised my pulse and my nipples with it. I could see them myself through the sarong. Harry didn’t miss them either. He looked down and then into my eyes. ‘Wet… and hard,’ he said. He reached his hand forward, stopped and said, ‘May I?’
By this, I could only make guttural noises. I nodded. His palm touched my left nipple and, as he slowly dropped his hand, my nipple traced a path through his palm and along between his forefinger and middle finger. His eyes never left mine. He could have laid me on the floor in the middle of the living room right then, if he had wanted to. I was his for the taking.
I put my arms around his neck and kissed him gently on the lips. He found the parting in my sarong, pushed it aside and put his arms around my bare waist and started to kiss me right back. He moved down my neck, nipping a little, feeling my throaty murmurs through his lips, no doubt.
I was picturing myself in the doorway of the seniors’ club house just an hour or so before, turning to wave to all the other ladies in the yoga group.
‘Bye. Just going home to get myself fucked.’Harry’s hands were now caressing my breasts. I did think they were still my best feature… carrying a little extra weight never did hurt the cleavage. Harry seemed to like them. He was stroking their fullness, his mouth round with amazement. As his hands worked their way slowly down to the areolas, he would circle his thumbs to trace their width and then let his fingers explore the firm nipples. He would cup the breasts in both hands and let his thumbs come from underneath, allowing the nipples to bounce off them as he explored their rigidity. In turn, I was ecstatic to be so admired and to have such expert fingers play with my breasts.
Soon I felt one hand slide slowly down to my belly, the fingers fan out and take me all in.
As you can see, the story gets below the belt here and ends in some afternoon delight in the bedroom and then a night together. But the question remains for Sally: Is this all I can hope for or will he be back?
If you would like to read the entire short story, you can do so for free if you have Kindle Unlimited or you can buy the story as an e-book for just 99 cents US -- right here on Amazon.