Samantha James walked. She felt fine. Wearing out shoe leather was a new experience for her but she liked it; seemed to soothe her somehow and allow her thoughts to assemble. As she continued through the residential streets the afternoon sum warmed her. She walked briskly but elegantly; her head held high her heels clicking rhythmically on the paving stones. Her recent weight loss had given her hips a sway that she knew others found attractive and the shortish skirt and low cut blouse ensured that any she was treated to immediate double takes by any onlookers. She felt fine – she must be; they had all told her that she was.
Turning the corner and continuing her wanderings, this new street was familiar to Samantha. Her eyes immediately took in the rows of smart, older style houses that flanked each side of the road; their carefully manicured lawns straight away recognisable to her. A man in a hard hat and working construction on one of the houses whistled at her as she passed and, despite herself, she smiled back at him. But men in general held little attraction for Samantha. She would not exactly term herself a lesbian – she had slept with many male lovers – but it was certainly true that she preferred the soft female form to the hard, ruggedness of men.
And it was a female that she sought now. But not just any female, Maria Cantallini was the only woman for Samantha and, after all this time, she had to find her – Samantha James was looking for her wife.
She could never have forgotten the house – never would – she could sense herself approaching it way before she caught sight of its old walls thick with creeping Ivy and the sag in the roof that she had told Maria needed to be fixed. The house of course could never have belonged to her – always to Maria – but a lot had happened within its walls. A lot that Samantha could never forget even if she had wanted to.
It was clear to Samantha that the house was empty – not permanently empty, not abandoned, but just waiting for Maria's return. For a moment Sam was confused. She had planned this visit down to the last detail but had not allowed for the possibility (a very real possibility, she know realised) that Maria would be out shopping or otherwise engaged outside of her home. The only idea that now seemed to spring to mind was to wait for her return.
The rear garden was unlocked and came equipped with a small summerhouse. This, it seemed to Sam, was the obvious place to wait; the window afforded a good view to the back door and also, she realised, to the downstairs bedroom window. Samantha felt a sudden surge of excitement as she recalled that bedroom. This was the room that she had shared with Maria after their wedding ceremony had been performed and in which she had experienced the joy of her lover's body. Sam had known right from the start – as soon as she had selected Maria, in fact – that the other woman was probably not of the same sexual persuasion as she her self was, but she would change all that. She HAD changed that.
Voices startled Samantha out of her reverie and she sank a little lower behind the window in the summerhouse. Her heart pounded in her chest as she recognised Maria's dulcet tones and her excitement rose again – she was going to see her wife again after all this time. But then another voice found its way to Samantha's ears. No female voice, this was unmistakably male. For a moment she bristled with anger. How could Maria be talking to a man? Had she not "cured" her of this? Sam watched silently as the pair came into view. She had never seen the man before but had to admit that there was a certain attractiveness there; tall and continental looking, his short dark hair combed back neatly from his temples. The dark suit he wore looked expensive. But Maria hadn't changed at all. Her long auburn hair framed the face that Samantha had fallen for. Her water-blue eyes seemed to sparkle and the tiny upturn of her nose looked just as cute as it had ever done. Maria wore a suit too. Again dark and business like, it seemed to Samantha that she had probably just come home from work in an office somewhere – but early for what reason? Samantha's anger rose as she tried to deny what, from the way the couple were now entering through the rear door, hand in hand, was very obviously the reason.
But what should she do now, Samantha wondered? She would have liked to burst in through the door, of course, like an indignant husband who suspects his wife of cheating on him (not very far away from her own situation, Sam realised). But that was a dangerous idea. She had not seen Maria in such a long time and she didn't know who the man was at all. Maybe he would be violent and hurt her, or at the very least throw her out. No, the best reasoning – the safest – would be to wait it out, just hide out where she was until the man had left and then, at last, she would be reunited with her bride.
Samantha waited and she watched through the window. Twenty minutes passed, then a half hour and the man didn't seem to be showing any signs of leaving – in fact they were now both sipping white wine and laughing together like old friends. How could Maria do this to her? How could she forsake her for a man?
And then, while Sam watched, the atmosphere between Maria and the man seemed to change. It was an almost imperceptible change but Samantha noticed it immediately. They were standing close together, their faces only inches apart and, to Samantha's growing concern, getting closer. Sam held her breath as she watched their lips touch and felt a strange tingle run up her spine. Why was she getting excited when all she should be feeling was blind fury at her wife's adultery?
The kiss intensified. Suddenly Maria's lips were locked against the man's and her arms were snaking up around his neck. For his part and, again, to the excitement of Samantha, the man placed his hands on Maria's breasts through the fabric of her top.
Against all her better judgements, Sam knew that she had to get closer – to really be able to see what was going on. She knew it was risky; it wasn't yet dark and she could be seen as a trespasser should she be discovered. But, in Samantha's mind, the need to see – the excitement of watching – outweighed the risk involved and so, quietly but quickly, she crept out of the summerhouse and approached the undraped window.
Samantha gasped silently as she looked into the room and saw that the man – whoever he was – now had his hands up inside Maria's top and was roughly fondling her large, firm breasts. Maria's hand was in his lap and clearly searching for the zipper. The deep, long kiss continued as they explored each others bodies.
Samantha suddenly realised that her throat was as dry as parchment and took a hard swallow. Her tongue felt two sizes to large for her mouth and there was a strange tingling sensation at her groin that she had not felt for a long time. She was a little startled to note that she was feeling the tension in other ways too: her nipples were stiffening and now seemed to swell and throb under her shirt. She could see the way that the man was squeezing and teasing Maria's nipples under her top and Sam couldn't resist a quick touch of her own breasts as she mimicked the mans ministrations. As soon as her fingers touched the hard points unhindered by the lack of a bra, a shiver coursed through Samantha's body. There was no doubt now that she was completely turned on by watching her wife with this man.
