Author's Note:
This story was requested by a friend of mine who wanted a sexual fantasy about a woman that I didn't know, and me. The woman in the story exists, though I seriously doubt her name is "Peggy." She looks, to me, like her name should be Peggy, which is why I chose the name. There is some reality woven in with the fantasy as required by the original request (the first scene with the young man actually happened, and some of the details are true.) While the story involves two women, neither are necessarily lesbian or bisexual. With that in mind, the story is listed under "Erotic Couplings" rather than "Lesbian Sex," though it could easily go under either category.
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"Watch where you're going in that fucking cart, dumbass!"
"I'm sorry," I apologized profusely. "I can't see without my glasses, and I can't wear them—"
"Yeah, whatever. Just stay away from me, you cow." The obnoxious young man, ironically wearing a "Coexist" shirt, gave me the finger and stomped away. His outburst, heard by everyone in the immediate vicinity, was the single most hurtful thing someone had said to me in a long time, and I couldn't hold back the flood of tears.
"Coexist my ass," I heard from behind me. A woman, who appeared to be in her early to mid-forties, stood behind me. "I saw the whole thing. He stopped short, it wasn't your fault." She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I'm Peggy, but you can call me Peg," she said.
I sniffled and wiped my teary eyes on my sleeve. "Thanks. I'm Madison, but friends call me Maddy," I replied. "It's the mask. It fogs my glasses, so I'm screwed either way."
She chuckled, her spectacled, masked face looked at mine. "I understand, believe me." Peggy looked to be a bit shorter than me with a similar, stocky build. "You look like you could use a shopping companion today. Do you mind if I walk with you?"
I smiled, relieved to have found a friendly face. The relentless stares from the lingering crowd made me feel self-conscious and uncomfortable. I hate needing to use electric carts anyway, and an incident like that one chipped away at my confidence.
"I would love some company," I replied. "I don't need much, but I do like to just ride around and get away from the house for an hour or two here and there when I can."
"Oh, me too!" she agreed. "This stupid virus has everyone on edge. I hope this is NOT our new normal!"
"Me too," I wholeheartedly concurred.
We left the deli section and headed down the first aisle. I rode slowly, and she strolled beside my cart, reaching for things I would have normally needed help with, and we chatted as we shopped. In the candy aisle, I sheepishly reached for a bag of peanut butter M&Ms and plopped them into my cart. "They're for my husband," I said. "I don't even like M&Ms—"
"You don't have to justify a thing to me," she laughed. "What woman doesn't love chocolate? Although I
am
surprised to hear you say you're married." She looked at my left hand and wiggled her ring finger. "I don't see a ring."
"The prong on the diamond is weak and needs to be fixed," I explained. "I haven't worn it in years." My wedding set was the last symbol of normalcy in our relationship. When it came off, it was almost as though the marriage had finally died.
"I detect some sadness in that statement," she observed.
I folded my hands over the controls of the cart and sighed. "Our marriage hasn't been happy for at least the past eleven years. Sex and intimacy are a thing of the past. He has MS."
She cringed, an elongated, "Oooh," left her mouth. "You have my sympathy," she said. "It's a brutal disease."
I nodded. "I know. I've been in caretaker mode with him for so long, I can't remember what it feels like to be his wife anymore."
She stopped reading the label on a soup can she had in her hand and looked at me. "Well, who takes care of Maddy?"
"I do," I said. "I take care of me and everyone around me. I'm all cared out."
"May I ask why you use the cart? I can tell you hate it."
How much time do you have?
I thought and smiled. "I have a chronic pain disorder called Fibromyalgia."
"Wow," she exclaimed. "You two have drawn the short stick in life. Multiple sclerosis? Fibro? Neither of those two diseases is easy to handle. You have my admiration."
I cocked my head and looked at her. "Admiration?"
"Honey, you are a strong woman. Shoot, you'd have to be to deal with what you live with every day of your life." She reached for my hand to hold it, and a shiver of electricity shot through my body. "Someone needs to take care of
you
."
I was admittedly flustered. "I'm okay," I stammered. But, I knew my new friend could see right through me.