I parked across the street from the address she had given me. A tastefully crafted oak mailbox stood next to a paved lane that dissapeared into a heavily wooded lot that seemed to stretch for miles in either direction along the road. So far all signs indicated that this woman was sitting on some money and that seemed to make her appear all the more tragic.
The way I had come to be here was a fantasy in itself and even as I walked along the solitary lane leading past towering pines and maples, I was still expecting to be heading directly into an elaborate prank set up for me by my friends. I had spent a couple years traveling throughout Europe, staying in a city only long enough to replenish my funds through some menial, low paying job in order to move on to the next old world city. When the time had come, I returned to North America and, back in my tiny hometown, the only source of income I could find was a menial, low paying job. Without the glamour of it being European, it was incredibly mind-numbing. So day in, day out, I would slug away at the local grocey store, saving up for my next adventure, passing the time fantasizing of the day it would come, when she came down my aisle.
Whenever an attractive woman would come into the store, it was customary to alert the other guys to her presence so we could all bask in the glow of the single bright spot in our otherwise dull day. This one, though, I wanted to myself and stayed right where I was. The girls from the catholic school would come in after school and, as lovely as their increasingly shrinking skirts were, they were a dime a dozen. And there were the MILFs, the mothers the cute school girls would one day grow into, but after seeing them a few times a week, each week, their novelty would wear off. This woman, though, she was something else.
Our tiny town had the benefit of being located on the north shore of a large lake and attracted tourists galore. And along with them came the summer people. Those who could afford cottages to stay in a few weekends each year, or in some cases, the entire summer. Looking at this woman half-heartedly pushing a shopping cart down the aisle, I prayed she would be one of the latter variety.
As I came into view of her cottage, a two story architectural wonder of wood and glass, there was no question she would be here the entire summer. The place was beautiful. I could spend my entire life living in this boring town if my home looked anything like this one.
"My husband might show up on the weekend," she said handing me a folded piece of paper, "if I'm lucky." I slipped it into my pocket and smiled.
"Well, if it helps, this is the first time I'm happy I went out of my way to help a customer," I had said, then looked over her body once more. She was of medium height, with slim, gentle features. Her head was framed with chin length blonde hair that curled upwards at the tips, perfectly drawing attention to what was easily her best feature: two huge, gorgeous blue eyes. Even with the slight sadness evident in her voice, those eyes still sparkled, and I knew that the decision she had made by inviting me over was not rash or rebellious, but a fully deliberate and consciously made one.
"You're cute," she said, patted my cheek, then walked on down the aisle.
I approached the carved wooden front doors then whispered a "Thank you" to lady fortune for having placed me in this position. With any luck, this would be only the first of many positions I would end up in tonight.
I rang the doorbell and passed the time thinking about her situation. Her husband must be one hell of a prick. She was gorgeous, both bubbly cute and stunning at the same time. Her features were delicate and sexy, and seeing them tainted with the sorrow she felt left me feeling somewhat sad. She had all kinds of money. The BMW parked before the front doors of a house that probably cost more than I would see in my lifetime was probably just a slight hint of that the size of the bank account she had access to and that was what made her appear so tragic. She wasn't in this relationship for money. She undoubtedly loved her husband and all he could offer her in return was neglect.
I heard the doors swing open behind me and as I turned I was absolutely floored by how beautiful she looked. She had on a transparent silk robe, undone over a lace bra which covered her small, pert breasts, and a matching pair of panties. Now there was no doubt as to what she had planned for this night. Once I had recovered from my blissful shock, a thought occurred to me and my expression must have given me away for she took my hand and spoke to me.
