Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it, love Mica xx Yorkshire, England.
I had just enjoyed an afternoon tea on the Embsay Steam Railway, very pleasant, a treat to myself. I wasn't far from my cottage, relatively speaking, and decided I would go to a supermarket and grab some provisions. The car park was quite empty and I was able to grab a parking spot near the main door. I paid my one pound hire charge and released a trolley for my use.
I was looking at the fishmongers stall and was trying to decide between a piece of Salmon and a whole Trout, they only had one of each left this late in the day. The whole Trout was tempting, and as I was deciding a hand moved in and took the Salmon. Well, there we are, that that my decision made for me.
"Oh, sorry," a soft voice said, "did you want the Salmon, I can take the Trout instead if you prefer."
I turned to the voice, the owner was a medium build and height, I could not tell much more through his clothes.
"Oh no, I am easy, I was probably going to go for the Trout anyway."
"Good choice, I would love to cook it for you." Oh good grief.
"You have a wedding ring. What would your wife say?"
"Indeed I do, but as we know that means nothing these days. We lead and live our own separate lives."
"Do you indeed, and what would she say if she came home and found you, shall we say, entertaining, a lady friend in your shared house, what would she say then."
"She would simply join in."
"Really? Even if you were..."
He cut me off, "yes, even if I were entertaining her upstairs."
"Oh well, but I don't like sharing."
"Sharing is optional. If I can't cook you lunch, can I buy you lunch? Tomorrow."
Oh. I had nothing on, and it might be an interesting interlude. But where?
"You might, it may depend on where you are thinking of buying me lunch."
"I would suggest the Brown Cow, do you know it?"
"Yes. Okay. Tomorrow at twelve thirty." I put the trout in my trolley and wheeled away. I didn't know his name or his phone number, nor did he know mine. It would be interesting. I collected the few other things I wanted, cream, almonds, mushrooms and some parchment paper. I intended to cook the Trout en Papillote, I could shower whilst it cooked in the oven. I decided against a glass of wine, and bought a bottle of Elderflower pressé, my favourite tipple.
Back at the cottage I prepared the Trout and put it in the oven. Upstairs I stripped and showered and put a robe on, back downstairs I sat at the kitchen table with my fish. There was a full moon outside and the wispy clouds shone like streaks of white silver in the darkening sky. It was a quite beautiful evening, so fitting for the location, from here, the world and its troubles seemed a very long way away. At that point I resolved that when Mik finally moved out and made his own way, I would sell the house and retire up here permanently.
I shut the door, closing me in from the world, cleared away and loaded the dishwasher and went up to my room. I took my dress off and stood in front of the mirror, critically examining myself. My boobs were drooping a little, but still high on my chest and critically were still the originals, no enhancement or surgical assistance. My nipples stood proudly, still more on my upper boob than pointing down. My stomach was almost flat, my navel a deep depression, and my mons stood proudly with the crease of my sex starting with a dimple and then disappearing down underneath.
My labia were plump and hid my inner treasures, just a hint of my clitoris at the upper end of my crease. I widened my legs and my labia slightly parted, hinting at the delights within. I stood to the side, my boobs looked darn good from the side as did my stomach and the rise of my mons, my bottom caught my breath. It looked taught and ripe and did not sag, it was beautiful.
If I were not already me, I knew that I would fall in love with this body. Many years ago I had been a model, and I believed that I could still hack it in that world should I choose, but I had stepped away from that life many years ago at the top of the game, it was no longer my choice of career. I was happy to share my body on my terms, and recently my lovers had been male and female and mythological. I could not ask for more. I was in no way ashamed of my body, as I believed no one else should be ashamed of theirs.
Sleep came quickly and my dreams were a juxtapose of Leah and John, interspersed with Sid and Elvina and Fay, velvet grass and gardenias. It was a night of love and I awoke around dawn fully rested. It was a warm start to the day and I took my cup of tea and sat naked by the beck, listening to the water babble over the stones, the breeze tickling my crotch like tall grasses swaying in a wind.
Back in my room I had to decide what to wear for my lunch date. I had a mid thigh dress with low front and back in a deep rich blue. I would wear that with my plunge bra, also in blue, with its matching suspender belt. No knickers of course. Blue silk stockings and my blue Christian Louboutin pumps with four inch heels. I knew the effect it would have, I am not egotistic, but when I make the effort I know I am knockout. Some blue eyeshadow would complete the allure. The guy, whatever his name is, would have no chance.
I showered and douched, dabbed myself dry with a towel and added a roll on antiperspirant, but not too much, it doesn't taste particularly pleasant. I put my bra on, backwards, did up the strap, twisted it round and dropped my boobs into the cups, straps over my shoulder. I stood and looked in the mirror, frontwards and sideways. The lift was there, and the cleavage was to die for.
Suspender belt went on next, the three clasps hanging down each side, ready to do their duty. I sat on the edge of the bed and rolled my stockings up my legs, smoothing them, ensuring the seam was perfectly up the centre of the backs of my legs before attaching the straps. I pulled the dress on and did up the invisible zip at the side. Stepped into my pumps and looked in the mirror. Damn that was a good outfit.
Sat in front of my mirror I applied a little foundation and blusher to highlight my cheeks, my eye shadow and mascara and a spray of Esteé Lauder Youth Dew to my decolletage. I was ready, dressed to kill. I had thirty minutes to get to the Brown Cow. Enough time, well, almost enough time.
Slowly down my little lane to the main road, and then on to the pub, pulling in to the car park only five minutes late.
"Did you think I wasn't going to come?" I asked him as I walked over to him as he stood by the entrance. He had a white polo shirt on and mulberry-coloured slacks with brown loafers. Sun glasses perched atop his head, his hair short and neat. He was quite tall, not six foot, but around five ten. I think he was wearing what he thought was a 'cool' look. I smiled, it was anything but. Never mind.
"The thought did cross my mind, but then I thought I am worth turning up for, you'll be here, probably fashionably late. You are a minute earlier than I expected that you would arrive."
"Oh well, a surprise either way. So here I am, shall we go in?"
"Yes of course." He held the door open and I stepped in and stood by the 'Please wait here to be seated' sign.
A server approached and took us to a table by a window that overlooked the dales, a field full of sheep and some tumbledown farm buildings. I took my seat looking out through the window, 'he' sat in front of the window facing me.
"We haven't been introduced," he said.
"No," I answered, "we haven't been. I have been referring to you as 'him' and 'he'."
"I see, and to whom have you been referring to me?"
"Well that would be telling, now wouldn't it?"
"Well, I am Dan, short for Daniel, but no one ever calls me Daniel, I was even just Dan growing up at home."
"Okay Dan. I am Mica, it is not spelt how it is pronounced, and it is an old family name."
"I see. Not a name I think I have ever heard before, although you do look familiar."
"I just have one of those faces. I always used to mistaken for models and actresses, but no, I am just me."
"Okay perhaps that is it, is it the curse of the beautiful woman to be forever mistaken for someone else I wonder."
"I don't know, I don't tend to go out much these days."
"Do you work?"
"A little, I run my own consultancy, I do mostly work for government agencies and mostly working from home."
"I see, and is that work enthralling, captivating, consuming of your interest?"
"Well, I can't talk about it, a lot of it is hidden behind non disclosure agreements, the Official Secrets act, contractual stipulations, so, I just don't talk about it."
"Intriguing."
"No, not really, very boring which is probably why they don't like me talking about it."
At that point the server came across for our order. I ordered calamari to start and Salmon En Croute for the main. I ordered Elderflower and Apple pressé as a drink.
Dan had pâte to start and steak for his main. He ordered a jug of water for the table and a fruit cider to drink. The server checked everything back with us and headed back to the kitchens.
"Do you live alone or do you have a secret Beau?" He asked.
"Well, I am here with you, what do you think?"
"I suspect alone, but you must have boy or girlfriends, you are far too beautiful to walk a path of loneliness."
"Perhaps people all think the same as you, and so no one ever approaches me, perhaps I am destined, damned almost, to be alone."
"I don't think so, no, I am pretty sure that you have lovers."
"Perhaps my lovers are secret and reside in a mythical realm, invisible to humans."
