Bountiful Lady

He'd been standing in line behind her at the bank, quickly scanning the back and side view of her, the junoesque proportions, taking in the tailored suit, sensible shoes, her meticulous grooming, a teasing whiff of her perfume and something less tangible.

She concluded her business and turned to leave, his peripheral vision caught something falling to the floor, but by the time he'd bent to retrieve it and turn to tell her she'd dropped something, she was already through the door briskly walking away. He looked at the two small floppy disks in his hand, one titled "des histoires" the other "des pensées" hmmm, it appeared the lady was French or at least wrote it.

The teller was ready for him, his thoughts interrupted, he slipped the disks into his suit jacket really without thinking and proceeded to get his banking needs done.

It wasn't until that evening as he removed his jacket that he remembered the diskettes he'd found. He pulled them out and inserted the one titled "histoires" into the computer’s drive, waiting patiently for ol' Bessie to sputter and wake from a day of idle occupation. He hoped his rusty high school French would be up to the task of deciphering the contents of the disk, hopefully finding a way to identify the owner, to return them to her.

The titles were all in English, so he clicked on the first one "Dreams".

He read several paragraphs before he became conscious that his jaw was hanging somewhere down on his chest, his necktie felt unbearably tight as he gulped, the bulge in his pants attesting to the fact that he'd been captured by the sensual erotic meanderings he was reading.

He smiled to himself, never judge a book by it's cover, was certainly applicable in this ladies’ case. She was at least forty, packing a good fifty pounds more than was acceptable by fashion's dictum; she'd appeared a sensible, conservative lady. There were silver streaks through her dark hair held in a twist, the brief look he'd had of her face had shown him a serious looking, matronly woman.

He continued reading the story, releasing himself from his trousers, taking himself in hand as her words seduced him with descriptions of feasting on some lucky devil's turgid manhood. His own tightness becoming almost painful with need.

At the end of the story she'd signed it with what he presumed was her nom de plume, but also an email address. Perfect. He continued to read all of the stories listed, taking a break to rapidly relieve the pressure her words had inspired, wishing he could conjure her up to assuage each of her needs and his own.

He'd inserted the second diskette; this one was where she stored her ideas for possible scenarios, paragraphs started but incomplete, erotic ponderings, fantasies. His favorite, the beginnings of a bondage scene that promised to be very hot.

He started formulating a plan on how to get in touch with her to return her lost diskettes. He would email her saying that he'd found her lost property, if she wanted them returned, to respond forthwith.

********************

I couldn't wait to get home, this day had gone from bad to worse, an unscheduled meeting had ensured I'd missed lunch, a hurried trip to the bank instead, an afternoon of endless interruptions that caused me to leave the office later than usual.

The suit I’d worn was far too warm for this day. Shedding it and everything else, a quick shower, slipping into my silky nightgown were foremost on my mind as I entered my quiet apartment, the cat nearly tripped me as he wove his way through the steps leading to my bedroom;

“First things first puss, momma needs to change”.

The de-grooming tasks quickly accomplished, to the sounds of Darwin’s incessant meows, he was hungry and that was all there was to it. A frozen entrée for myself popped into the microwave, a chilled glass of white wine, a can of seafood delight for Darwin, our dinner was ready in minutes.

“Finish your supper Darwin, momma's going to check her emails.”

I made my way towards my computer, punched in my password and quickly perused the list of emails received since yesterday, discarding the junk ones, my eyebrows puckered at an address that wasn't familiar. I’m always wary of opening emails from unknown addresses, fearing another virus, I was about to click on it to send it to the trashcan when I noticed the subject line "your erotic stories" clicked on it and cried out in disbelief at the first line.

"Do you have back-up copies of your diskettes 'Mes histoires' & Pensées"?

OH MY GOD NO

I ran to get my purse and day planner, flipping to the back where I keep a spare check book and also some diskettes, sure enough, the diskettes with the stories I'd penned were missing. Feelings of dread, embarrassment and defeat settled on me all at the same time.

No I don’t have backup copies of either one.

I continued to read his missive with tears in my eyes.

Please reply if you want these returned to you. A bientôt, Richard

I hit the reply button;

"Yes please, I'd like the diskettes returned to me, how shall we arrange this?"

I pressed Send, hoping against hope that it wasn't going to become the ordeal I imagined getting those disks back. He'd obviously read one in order to have my email address, I wondered briefly if he'd thought my silly notions pathetic.

All evening I kept going back and forth to the email box to check if he had responded to my missive; each time there was nothing.

What kind of a man is this Richard, will he be difficult to deal with, I berated myself once again for my stupidity as I made my way to bed. Dreams filled with unknown faces that chased me, laughing when I stumbled, teasing mercilessly. Not a restful sleep at all, I awoke tired and irritable, grumbling at Darwin who cast a snooty look and pranced away, tail flicking angrily.

I couldn't wait to see if there would be a reply to my email; there were a few but not the one I was hoping for. I was starting to get angry now, those are mine damn it, he has no right to play cat and mouse this way, the bastard. I fumed as I stepped under the stinging stream of the shower, thinking up scathing remarks to offer him if and when he ever wrote back.

I prepared for work and before I left, made a quick trip to check the emails again, there it was, the reply.

"I presume you work downtown, for that is where you do your banking, I also work downtown, perhaps we could meet on neutral territory, say at the outdoor bistro on the corner of Jasper & Lynden. If this is not acceptable to you, you can send me your mailing address and I'll return your disks that way."

I sat stunned for a moment, meet him, dear sweet lord he'd probably fall out of his chair laughing so hard when he spied the frumpish old lady joining him at his table, claiming her property. Then again, he had my email address, which was bad enough I supposed, he was a stranger after all, I certainly didn't want him having my home address.

"I can meet you at the bistro you suggest shortly after 1:00 pm, if that's okay with you, if not, after work around 5:00 is the only other time I can manage, please advise."

I waited a few moments and was rewarded with a quick reply.

"It will have to be after 5:00, see you there later."

All day I was a basket case, imagining what kind of person would be there, some sick weirdo with a strange sense of humor, at least I’d be meeting him in a public place, he’d not have a chance of getting too creepy on me, I hoped.

“Damn I hate having to watch that clock”, it seemed the minutes crawled by, each one adding another butterfly to my stomach, at one point I thought I’d be ill, the nervousness threatening to overwhelm me.

The time finally arrived, I made my way to the bistro, half wanting to run there and get it over with, half wanting to turn away and forget the whole thing, screw the diskettes and screw him. The closer I got to the bistro the better that plan sounded, but just as I was about to turn away I saw a man stand and offer a lopsided grin.

I reluctantly made my way to his table, extending my hand.

“Richard I presume?”

“That’s correct, you have me at a disadvantage though, I only know your pen name and somehow I don’t think you’re really called Erotique?”

I felt myself flushing; “Anne,” not quite sure what else to say as he held the chair for me to sit;

“Pleasure to meet you Anne.”

As soon as I was sitting, he fished the two missing diskettes from his breast pocket and handed them to me.

“I’m sorry you’re embarrassed by this, it wasn’t my intent to do that, I just wanted to meet the woman who wrote such lovely stories.” To himself he thought “and to see if there was a possibility of living one of these experiences with you” but he held back on that.

I studied his face, noticing the fine wrinkles, the salt and pepper hair, he was of medium height and seemed to be fit, I made a quick perusal of his hands and noticed there wasn’t a wedding band, though that didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t taken.

With the disks safely stored in my purse I was antsy to get away,

“Thank you for returning these to me, I really appreciate it” as I stood to leave, he quickly got up too and held my chair.

“If you really mean that, do you think we could meet again sometime for a drink or a meal, I’m new to the city and don’t know very many people yet, you’d be doing me a great favor.”

I held back on my first comment, a bit wary of answering, wondering briefly at his real reasons to meet again. I’m very self conscious about my physicality, having been the recipient of far too many, “Such a pretty face, too bad she’s so fat” looks or comments.

“If you’re free to do so, would you join me sometime Anne, we could take in a movie or go to the theatre if you like, I’m at loose ends pretty much on the weekends, I sure could use a friend”.

“Here’s my business card, I’ll put my home phone number on the back, call me sometime and we’ll plan something very relaxed and non committing, I promise”.

I took the card from him and smiled,

“Okay Richard, thank you again.”

____________________

He watched her as she walked away towards the car park, he was more than a little excited by the possibility of meeting her again, of getting to know her, perhaps taking it slow to begin with, but eventually; he could picture her lush body beneath his, the heavy breasts quivering from each thrust, being enveloped in all that bounteous hot, wet womanhood.

Richard had always been attracted to women with big breasts, the real ones, the ones without implants, they usually came along with an ample figure. That was a problem for some men, but not for him, he would glory in her abundance and perhaps help her quell the longings she wrote about so eloquently.

Now all he had to do was wait till this bountiful lady found the courage to call.

___________________

How many times is that Darwin? I've picked up the damned phone to call that man Richard, punched the first few numbers in, stop before I can complete the call, gawd, I'm pathetic aren't I?

He did seem very nice. Intelligent, polite, clean, not half bad looking!

Okay, do it, finish the call, talk to him, ask him if he would like to catch a movie on the weekend. Maybe tonight when I get home from work, what do you think Darwin, reinforce my resolve with a few glasses of wine first?

Well, he did propose an outing knowing what I look like, maybe it doesn't matter to him as much as it does to me, but damn, I wish I'd been born with smaller bones. Don't you dare laugh Darwin, it is so my large frame that makes me look so, so junoesque, well that and these generous knockers, not too mention these cushions on my hips, sigh.

If I was sure he really meant what he said, needing someone to show him the sights or go to a movie or dinner with, I guess I'm just so used to doing all those things by myself, my own company isn’t that bad, maybe it's better if I let this one pass. Yeah, yeah I know, BOK, BOK, BOK , that's me, a big chicken.

Okay Darwin we'll try it your way, but don't say I didn't warn you, he'll probably not even remember me, I'll have to go into a long drawn out spiel about him finding my diskettes, gawd! How embarrassing, and to think he's read some of those stories, well maybe I better not call him, he was probably only being polite saying they were hot. What do I know, my real sexual expertise is pretty limited.

I think Darwin had had it with me at this point, he leveled a gaze on me that seemed to say, don' be such a damn whuss, call the guy and invite him to go to brunch and check out the new exhibit at the museum on Sunday, it's an innocent enough outing, in broad daylight, go ahead, call him.

Richard seemed genuinely pleased to hear from me and was most enthusiastic when I mentioned brunch and the museum, he told me how happy he was that I'd called and was looking forward to seeing me again.

The rest of the week passed in a blur, I was at times so nervous about the upcoming meeting, my self confidence was at an all time low. It was most fortuitous to discover a new boutique near my work, catering to women of generous proportions, that made me chuckle, generous, okay. I walked into the new store and was greeted by a woman about my age and size, she had a lovely, welcoming smile as she asked me if there was anything she could help me with.

"I'm trying to impress the hell out of someone without making it appear that way, do you know what I mean?"

She laughed, "Causal or Dressy?"

I left the store two hours later, laden with packages, Cheryl was a most convincing saleslady, but also most helpful. Onto the beautician, "No, I'm not letting you dye my hair, just a trim please, oh and my nails".

On Sunday morning I stood in front of the bedroom mirror primping, new hairdo, new outfit, new sexy silken underwear, I felt like a million dollars. I'd planned to make it down to Piccollo's a few minutes before noon, so I could find a table and wait to gauge his expression when he saw me. I've made that a pastime, studying people's expressions when they look at me.

If the huge grin and twinkling eyes were anything to go by, he didn't seem too upset with the way I looked. He made his way over to the table and took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze, saying how glad he was to see me again. I could feel myself blushing, those eyes of his, they seemed to see right through me. He was so charming, putting me at ease. We talked and ate and had coffee like we'd been doing this for years. It was a pleasant surprise to find myself so comfortable so quickly.

We never did make it to the museum, opting instead for a leisurely stroll in the park, we watched the swans glide on the pond for a while, there were several times that we didn't even speak, drinking in the beauty of the maples and birches donned in their reds and golds. He took my hand in his as we sauntered along.

"I can't think of a better way to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon, a beautiful lady, a wonderfully warm September day, thank you for calling me Anne, it means a lot to me that you did, I was afraid perhaps I'd said something to upset you when I hadn't heard from you."

"Oh, well, oh, I'm glad I called too Richard, no you didn't say anything to upset me, I'm just not used to calling up men for dates."

I could have added, nor am I used to them calling me, but figured I'd let that pass. By this time it was late afternoon, the walk and the fresh air felt wonderful but I knew that for a first outing it was probably time to call it a day.

His response was to invite me to join him for dinner at his condo, we'd order Chinese Take-Out, pick up a movie on the way, kick our shoes off and end this wonderful day watching a movie together, he'd even concede to a "chick" show. I mulled this suggestion over, weighing my options, his continued companionship as opposed to another evening spent alone with no one but Darwin to offer me warmth and a cuddle. It wasn't all that difficult to agree to his plan.

We enjoyed the delicious Cantonese cuisine from cardboard boxes as we watched Chocolat, I loved everything about that movie, the cinematography, the music, the story and mmmmm Johnny Depp., Richard even conceded that it was a good movie.

"So tell me Anne, those stories you wrote about, are they from your life's experience?"

"Ouffff, now there's a change of subject, ummm, no, they aren't experienced, most of them are fantasies, do they sound so far fetched?

"Not at all, I found them very sensual, very exciting, I just wondered which was your favorite?"

Oh, well, hmmm, my favorite scenario, hmmm.

He laughed and came to stand before me, looking deeply into my eyes, I saw his face lower towards mine, his intent most clear. Nothing could have prepared me for the jolt I felt run through me when his lips touched mine, when his tongue slipped between my lips, my teeth, to begin stroking my own tongue. I'd always laughed at the passages in stories that lay claim to rockets going off and seeing stars when one was so moved, a fleeting impression that both in effect were happening to me along with a shiver that made it's way throughout my body, leaving me quite breathless.

The kiss ended, I was dumbstruck to say the least, drowning in the green pools of his eyes. He gave me a slow smile, you know the kind, the one that grabs your eggs and flips 'em around several times then lets them settle with a thud. Oh Lordy, Lordy, Lordy.

I've never been promiscuous, never jumped in the sack on the spur of the moment type of woman, but this man, he had me throwing caution to the wind, he simply took hold of my hand and led me towards his bedroom, I followed with nary a whimper.

We stood near his bed, I know he could see me shaking, but before I let my conscience get the better of me;

"May I?"

I reached to unbutton his shirt, he nodded, a half smile on his lips. For so long I'd dreamed of doing this, helping a man out of his clothing, running my hands up his chest, curling my fingers in the springy hairs, kneading his shoulders, feeling the sinews and muscles, touching, bringing my face closer, memorizing his scent. All done with slow deliberation so that I would not miss anything, god knows if I'd ever get the chance to savour him this way again.

I found myself on the bed, gazing into his eyes wondering if he realized how difficult it was for me to let him see me in this most vulnerable state. I kept trying to hide beneath the sheet, but he prevented me from doing so, pulling it away. The hunger in his eyes as he looked down at me, I realized finally that he wanted me, all of me, warts and all. His lips found that spot on my neck, the one that makes me shiver when I scratch it. He homed in on it and nuzzled me there, sending shivers through me. My nipples hardened in response, I felt like moaning and laughing at the same time.

He nibbled and kissed and sucked his way down my body, nudging my knees apart before he swooped down on my centre. His tongue and fingers worked their magic, eliciting moans and sighs. Could it possibly get better than this? I was to find out that it certainly could.

At one point he lifted his head and looked at me, I could see my juices glistening on his face, dripping off, he wiped his face on his forearm and dove back in, I closed my eyes and let him guide me from one cataclysmic orgasm to another, I shook, cried, laughed and screamed and came, oh my sweet lord, did I ever come.

He kneeled between my legs and lifted them onto his shoulders, rubbing me with the tip of his turgid cock. I had never experienced having my g-spot rubbed in that way, wasn't prepared for the gush of hot juices that shot out of me, onto his stomach and lower. I tried to stop the flow but he stopped my movements by plunging deeply into me. He rode me hard and fast until once more I came, crying out his name.