A Chance Meeting

She was there as I entered the museum. Had I seen her before? A familiar face? I wasn't sure. But such a beautiful face above a lithe body, dressed for summer. She glanced my way as she passed.

Twice a year, museum visits helped give me ideas for my pupils at school. After reviewing the ancient artifacts at ground level, I wandered up the wide staircase. In the exotic bird display, the lady was there again, outshining the garish colours. Did our eyes meet once more?

On the opposite side of an antiques glass case, she stood, with the top button of her yellow dress loosened, drawing my eyes. My God, her breasts seemed to fill that dress, and the hint of the valley between them had me twitching.

Our paths crossed a number of times before I reached the third floor, my favourite level. Every time we passed, she made some sensuous movement or gesture that had me semi-erect inside my pants. Or was it just my overactive imagination?

This favourite area was where mythological representations were displayed. Immediately, I headed for the door bearing the label 'Cavern of Demi-gods.' Keen to find somebody different, I read the board telling me the monthly demi-god was 'Himeros.' New to me.

Unhesitatingly, I entered darkness of the small area, eerily lit in green. A backlit screen showed a noble angel-like figure, with wide-spread wings and a substantial semi-erect penis. A recorded female voice was saying "--sexual encounters were encouraged--"

But then a live, sultry feminine voice from behind startled me, "I knew you'd get here."

I turned, and there, seated on a narrow bench in a small alcove at the rear of the room, was the lady who had haunted and fascinated me all the way to this third floor. Her yellow, just below knee-length, summer dress, brightened the dim interior. Moving closer, hiding my surprise, I asked, "How could you know I'd get here?"

Deliberately, she lifted one foot onto the bench allowing her skirt to slide up revealing high, bare thigh. "Know much about Himeros?"

"Nothing."

"He was a demi-god of sexual desire and lust." Her green eyes were teasing. "The way you've looked at me all the way up here has been with open lust. That's why I expected you."

Be bold, I told myself. "I thought the looks were two-way."

"You were looking at my tits through the glass cabinet."

"Your cleavage," I corrected defensively. "Top button was undone."

Her fingers trailed at her neckline, "Two buttons now. Want more?"

So provocative were her actions, my cock stirred from semi to near hard.

"You returned my glances," I said cautiously.

She gave me a lascivious smile as she said, "Oh, is that right? So, you're the reason for my panties being so wet?"

This was like some longed for dream. A delectable woman practically urging me on. Green eyes challenged me as she added, "I've had to take them off. Want proof?" Another provocative smile now, "I wondered whether you'd respond." She gestured at the mound in my pants, stating triumphantly, "And you have."

Go on, call her bluff. With eyes on her bare tempting thigh, I said, "Your wetness and my hardness might make a cosy pair." How would that take her?

"Sounds good. Go on, touch me down there." My heart thumped, at her invitation. Tentatively, I reached for the expanse of bare thigh, so warm, so incredibly smooth. My fingertips stroked the visible length. "Higher," she ordered, her breathing heavier.

It had been my intention, and easily my fingers moved up her thigh, pushing her skirt higher until I was in the land of her waxed labia, parting them to view, despite the dim light, her pinkness, soaked and so inviting.

The lady was quietly moaning, as I lifted her chin, and asked, "Too late for a kiss?"

Unhesitatingly, as I bent she raised her mouth to meet mine. An initial delicate touch, but I had some uncertainties and drew back, "When? And where?"

The female commentator, "--Himeros encouraged adoration of the penis--"

"Here, and now," she said firmly.

"People might come in."

She sighed, "I've an appointment in twenty-five minutes. Here and now. And fast."

I hadn't the breath or the will to refuse. I leaned for another kiss while my fingers continued to probe her wet pussy.

Devilishly her tongue, searched my mouth, before she broke away to tell me, "I've never done anything like this before."

True? Then I was honoured. A lie? A voice in my head was telling me, 'That's what they all say."

But she went on, "My husband was an unfaithful bastard. His feeble cock went into any available woman that came his way. While I've remained the good wife. When you eyed me, I wondered if I could get at least one quickie back at him."

"Then let's make a good job of it," I told her. Now, nothing mattered as her fingers lowered my zip.

My rigid cock burst forth, hard as iron. Immediately, she switched her attention to it. Within seconds, her lips had enveloped me, and she sucked with a fury that startled me. I felt as though I crammed her mouth. Glorious.

"My turn," I whispered.

"Oh, yes please," she urged.

Dropping to my knees, I buried my face in her nectar trench. My slicking tongue ploughed to her clit. She squirmed, widening her thighs, affording greater access, as she gasped and panted. I poked two fingers into her entry.

Suddenly, the door opened. There were voices, and a beam of outside light. We both froze. Out of sight in our alcove. A woman groaned, "Oh, the screen. Look. That's disgusting."

The door slammed closed. Silence.

"Phew," she sighed. "Anyway, time moves on. Finale."

We stood, belly to belly, kissing passionately. We agreed the bench offered little comfort, she observed, "Only one cosy way in these confines."

Turning her back, placing her hands on the wall, jutting her backside, she looked back at me, lifted her skirt, and said, "Now."

Needing no further advice, I placed my cockhead hard against her opening.

She instantly heaved back. "Speed," she hissed.

So easily, my hardness slid up her sluiced channel. Her whole body quivered, and her jerking yelps told me that she was immediately climaxing. Enthused by that, I clutched her hips and pounded into her repeatedly.

I reached around her and rubbed at her hazelnut hard nipples. She gurgled her pleasure at that. Dropping one hand down to her slit, I felt through her oozing petals, before circling her clit. That did it. Would the whole museum hear her frenzied squeals?

Her hips responded to every vigorous thrust that I made. Her vaginal walls nipped and squeezed on my cock.

No chance to remain strong.

Within seconds, I was pouring months of my juices to mix with her own. Mutual rapture.

As we reclaimed our breaths, she glanced at her watch, "Oh, God, I'll have to rush."

My limp cock slipped out of her, and we cleaned up with handfuls of tissues she provided.

Straightening my pants, I asked, "Important meeting?"

"Solicitor. Final divorce process."

I hoped that her eyes on me at that moment had true meaning. Then she was backing away from me, looking so lovely, giving me a breath-catching smile,

"I've had that quickie now. And it was wonderful. Thank you."

Door open, her green eyes were bright, as she said one more word, "Kingscliffe." And she was gone.

Kingscliffe! That teaching conference. That's where I'd seen her before. That plain, unmade-up married woman that I had paid little attention to. Was she telling me, as a clue for me to find her? Would I try? My God, would I not?