A Lucy Accident at the Supermaret

A LUCKY ACCIDENT AT THE SUPERMARKET

This story features a remorseful wife who has fallen from grace. A cheating husband and a man having more than his share of good luck.

Lisa Matthews, very attractive, mid 30's, was pushing her supermarket trolley across the car park. The trolley was old and rattling, especially the left front wheel.

We've all had one like it, the wheel continually oscillates from side to side making a hell of a racket and attracting an embarrassing amount of attention.

The supermarket had been busy, and this was the only trolley in the pound, or she wouldn't have used it.

Halfway across the car park the damaged wheel broke off, and before Lisa could re-act the trolley dipped to the left, caught on the tarmac and tipped, over shedding her shopping all over the place.

This wasn't going to be her day, she'd already had a bust up with her husband, Pete, on the telephone, and she was still upset by it.

Pete was nearing the end of a two month long, business trip to South Africa. Lisa had only found out this morning from something he'd said during his call, that his travelling companion and assistant, was Sharon Wells. Lisa suspected Pete was having an affair with Sharon, although she hadn't been able to find any concrete evidence of it so far.

He had ended the call in a huff with the parting comment, "Don't expect to hear from me again until I'm back next week, I've got better things to do."

Her reply of, "Oh yes, like Sharon Wells, for example," didn't help matters.

Pete, was a water engineer. He was heading up a small team in South Africa bringing clean water to rural villages for the first time. He was a good engineer, then so was Sharon Wells, or so Pete had told his wife as he described her work in glowing terms.

Lisa had never liked Sharon, every time she had met her, with her husband along, Sharon had been all over Pete. Apparently, hanging on his every word, buttering him up, and touching his arms and hands at every opportunity. Lisa was almost certain that Pete and Sharon were having an affair when in the UK, and now she was working with him on his latest project in the South Africa bush.

The accident with the supermarket trolley was the last straw for Lisa, she just burst into tears and sank to her knees, shopping spread out in front of her.

The she heard a masculine voice in her ear saying. "Here, let me give you a hand. I was just returning my trolley, but I'll help you load your shopping into it. There doesn't seem to be much damage apart from those eggs, you're never going to make a decent omelette with those."

Lisa looked up. A very good looking young man, she figured late twenties early thirties, was standing beside her. He helped her to her feet and started to pick things up off the floor and load them onto his empty trplley. She'd stopped crying now and was picking up some things and handing them to him so he could put them in the trolley. She hadn't said a word to him yet, she was so embarrassed by her breakdown into tears.

When they were nearly done, he said, "If you finish picking these things up, I'll take the broken trolley pack to the pound."

She thanked him, finished picking up her shopping, then pushed the trolley to her car, and started to put the shopping in the boot. The young man returned and said, "I'm going to get a coffee at the café on the corner can I buy one for you."

"Yes please, I'd love a coffee," she said with a smile, "But I'm buying, it's the least I can do to repay you for your kindness."

"It was a pleasure," he said, "It's not every day you get to help a damsel in distress, and a very pretty one at that."

"My goodness," she thought, "Is he hitting on me?" She blushed as she also thought, "Well, I hope he is anyway."

"I'm David, by the way," he said holding out his hand.

She shook his hand and said, "Lisa."

"I knew you'd have a pretty name as well," he said, holding her hand for seconds too long.

They walked to the Café and found a table in a quiet corner. The waitress took their order and they settled down for a chat.

"Do you live close by," he asked.

"Yes, just a little way away, in Clifton Road." She replied.

"Oh, yes," he said, "In the posh part of town."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Lisa replied, "But it's a nice area, and a nice house. Where do you live?"

"An apartment, in the building just along the way," he said. "Just a single bedroomed place, I've only just moved in. Most of my things are in storage until I get the place decorated, and new blinds for the windows. The kitchen is pretty new and is the best room in the place at the moment, so at least I can feed myself and have somewhere to keep food and utensils."

Their coffees had arrived, and they sat, drank and talked for a good half hour. He told her that he worked with a local estate agency, as a surveyor estimator, and had moved into the area to be closer to the office. He was just starting two weeks of holiday so he could get the apartment straightened out and decorated. Then he could get the rest of his stuff delivered, and get settled in. At the moment he had a bed, a chest of drawers, a rack for hanging clothes, a dining table and two chairs, a TV, a couch and a coffee table.

He asked her if she worked locally, and what she did. She told him that she was a freelance interior designer, working on high end domestic properties.

"I can see from your wedding ring that you're married," he said. "Do you have children?"

"No, no children. We always seem to be too busy to think about kids, and my husband works away a lot. He's been in South Africa for the last two months."

"Oh right, do you have lots of friends for company?"

"Only one or two," she replied, "We haven't lived in this part of town all that long and we used to live on the other side of the county, before we moved here to be nearer my husband's head office. Not that he goes there very often. As I said he is out of the country quite a lot of the time, and it's difficult to get into the social life in an area, when you are single most of the time."

"How about you," she asked. "I presume you don't have a wife, or she would probably have insisted on the apartment being more complete before moving in. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, no girlfriend," he replied, "I did have a girlfriend, but we broke up a while ago, that was partly why I decided to move."

"That's a shame," said Lisa. "Had you been together long, or am I being too nosy."

"No, it's alright," he said, "We'd been together a couple of years, but I found out she'd been cheating on me with a guy I'd considered to be my best friend."

"Oh, dear. That's not nice." Said Lisa.

"Oh, it's OK," said David, "I'm over it now."

She asked him what he was doing to his new apartment, and by the time he told her his ideas, she was very interested. "Trouble is," he said, "I'm not good with colour schemes, and just when I think I've got it all sorted in my mind, I start to doubt that it will all co-ordinate properly."

Lisa's curiosity was now aroused, and she told David that she'd be interested to see his apartment, and what he planned to do in it.

By now the time was getting on and it was nearly lunchtime. He asked her if she had any plans for lunch and she said she hadn't. He asked her if she'd like to go for a pub lunch with him, and perhaps she could give him some ideas for his apartment while they ate.

Lisa said she'd like that, but she had to take her shopping home first. So, she told him where she lived, exchanged phone numbers, and he said he'd pick her up when she had taken the shopping home if she'd ring him when ready to go.

She rushed home and quickly put her shopping away, then quickly ran upstairs to change into some nicer clothes and freshen herself up for her lunch date. She was excited, she liked David and she was looking forward to spending more time with him.

She discarded her jeans and sweatshirt, and had a three minute shower, keeping her hair dry so that she wouldn't have to spend time drying it.

She put on clean underwear, and a dark green form fitting jersey knit dress to clothe her 36-24-35 figure. The dark green colour was perfect for her shoulder length auburn hair. She selected black court shoes with 3 inch heels to go with the outfit, with a single row of pearls to lie on the top of her bosom in the deeply scooped neckline of the dress.

Freshly made up and wearing her favourite perfume, "Je Reviens" by Worth, she felt better about herself than she had done for weeks.

She called David, and he said he'd be there in ten minutes. She waited by a window for him to arrive and was impressed when a large Mercedes SUV pulled up outside the house. She went straight out to the car before he had time to come up to the house, and he went to the front passenger door and opened it for her. He noticed her change of clothes and thought how very attractive she was, a good figure and great legs too, visible below her short skirt. She'd also changed her flat shoes for 3 inch heels, enhancing her legs and ankles.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," he told her.

She blushed as she thanked him for the compliment.

He took her to a lovely old country pub with a good restaurant. He'd been there before, and while he waited for her to call him he'd booked a quiet table where they could talk undisturbed.

Over lunch they discussed colour schemes and furnishings, and they got on very well together. He was very attentive, and she enjoyed his company, and his attention, very much.

She told him about her husband, and that he was working in association with a South African government department on projects to bring clean piped water to rural communities. She also told him how annoyed she was, that she'd only found out that morning, that his travelling companion and assistant engineer was a woman she felt sure was after him.

After a very nice lunch he took her home. She invited him in to show him her own colour schemes and furnishing techniques. She showed him the lounge, dining room and the conservatory, then took him upstairs to show him the bedrooms.

He was impressed with the colour schemes, the decorating techniques employed, and the furnishings and drapes. There were two bathrooms, two guest bedrooms and a master bedroom with ensuite bathroom. All the bedrooms were very comfortably and tastefully furnished.

He told her that her home was beautiful, and her 'woman's touch' was clearly evident. He regretted that his own place wouldn't be as lovely as hers because he's on his own, and he doesn't really have the designer flair that she and her husband have. She thanked him for his compliments, but said that her husband had nothing to do with it, he's not in the least bit interested in their home and spends as much time as possible away from it.

Lisa apologised for letting her feelings about her husband come out. David said if it was his home and she was his wife, he'd want to spend as much time there as possible. She silently wished it was that way, and that he'd be there with her, but she said nothing.

Then she said, "Look, why don't I come round to your place later, and see if I can come up with any ideas to help make it comfortable for you."

David said he'd be delighted if she would. "I have an appointment this afternoon," he said, "but would you be able to come this evening?"

"Of course, I can," she said, "I'm only going to be here on my own. I'd love to help you if I can."

"Can you come at, say 6.30pm?" asked David. "I'll cook dinner for us, I promise not to poison you. Do you have any preference for wine?"

"Yes," Lisa replied. "I can come anytime you like, and I like chilled Prosecco. Are you sure dinner won't be too much trouble?"

"Not at all," he said. "I'd like to cook for you, and it would be the least I could do in exchange for expert help and a beautiful woman for company."

She blushed.

He hoped he hasn't said too much.

She led the way downstairs, and he noticed the soft way her hair swayed from side to side as she walked. He noticed her delicious floral perfume as well. He found her quite enchanting.

As he left, he told her how much he was looking forward to seeing her later, and he made sure she could find her way to his apartment. As she opened the door to let him out, her turned to shake her hand, but she leaned in and kissed him. The kiss seemed to last a long time, but it was really just a few seconds.

"Thank you for being Sir Galahad this morning, and for a lovely lunch. See you later," she said.

She spent the afternoon in a bit of a daze. She'd enjoyed David's company very much. He wasn't just good looking but appeared to be in good shape too. He was also very attentive and polite, and he made her feel good. She asked herself whether she should be getting involved with him? Then she thought about her husband in South Africa, with Sharon 'bloody' Wells, and decided that what was good for the goose was good for the gander, or in this case, what was good for the gander was definitely good for the goose.

As the time drew close for her to get ready for the evening, she pondered what she should wear. She settled on stretchy jeans, with a semi-transparent white blouse, and white flat shoes. There was only one sensible choice of underwear with her outfit, a white lacy bra and panties set. A short camel coloured jacket would top it off, in case it got chilly later. She brushed her auburn hair to a gloss and wore it loose about her shoulders.

She arrived at David's apartment at 6.40pm. 'Never be early or on time' was her mantra, it looks as if you are too eager, always leave them a bit unsure. "But of course," she said to herself with a smile, "It's really not that sort of date, is it?"

He met her at the already open door of his apartment. "I saw you drive into the car park," he said. "I'm so glad you came."

"How could I not? I've never had a handsome man cook dinner for me before;" was her coquettish reply, but inside she asked herself what she thought she was doing, flirting heavily with a man who was almost a stranger. "Yet", she thought, "I feel as if we've known each other for some time, we are on the same wavelength."

He gave her a quick tour of his sparsely furnished and dowdy home. She told him that she could see how desperately it needed sorting out and properly scheming, in its current state it was a little depressing.

Back in the lounge/dining room he'd laid the table for dinner, with a clean, plain white tablecloth, white napkins and sparkling silver cutlery. There was a small vase holding a posy of fragrant flowers, two crystal water glasses and a matching carafe of water. No wine glasses, she noticed.

As if he read her mind, he said, "I put the wine glasses in the fridge with the wine. It always seems silly to chill the wine then pour it into warm glasses."

"What a very thoughtful man," she thought. "Is he trying to impress me? Well, if he is, he has."

"I hope you like seafood," he said. "We're having stir fried Tiger prawns with pasta shells, roasted halved tomatoes and a seafood sauce. For sweet I thought a medley of ice creams would be OK. I hope I haven't included anything you don't like."

"It all sounds lovely," she said. "I eat most things, I'm not a fussy eater."

"Well, you didn't get that great figure from eating too much of the wrong things," he said.

"Thank you, kind sir," she said, acknowledging the compliment. "But I do spend some time at the gym burning off the odd over indulgence."

Dinner was perfect, the wine was just right, and by the time the ice cream had been eaten they were well into the second bottle.

When dinner was over and the dishes carried into the kitchen, they moved to the couch, and Lisa opened her sketch pad. She had already roughed out a few ideas during the afternoon and she talked David through them. She added a few sketches now that she had seen the apartment, and talked through colour schemes, lighting effects and soft furnishings, with him. He was delighted with her ideas.

As they sat together discussing her ideas, she felt a comfortable buzz from the wine, and from the proximity of this vibrant young man. As she showed him her sketches and their hands touched, she felt the thrill of being alone with him in his apartment. They sat close together with their heads bent over the pages of her sketch pad. He looked at her as she explained one of her ideas.

"What do you think?" she asked. He just looked into her eyes for a moment, then he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. She responded without hesitation by opening her lips and letting him slip his tongue into her mouth. They made out for a long time, their kisses becoming more passionate. Then, suddenly, she drew back. "Oh God," she said, "We mustn't." But he kissed her again, and after a moment's hesitation she put her hand behind his head and held his lips tight to hers.

They held each tightly, as he continued to kiss her lips, her chin and her neck. She leaned back on the couch, and he twisted his body to face her, continuing the sensual kisses that she was loving.

When he moved his hand to cup her breast she drew in a sharp breath. He thought she was going to tell him to stop, but she just kissed him harder.

He brought both hands up to undo the buttons of her blouse and pushed it back over her shoulders, she leaned forward a little so he could remove it behind her. When she relaxed against the back of the couch again, he kissed down her neck then down onto the top of her breasts. Her nipples were big and hard, and he could feel them pushing up under the fabric of her lacy bra. He gripped each of them gently in turn, and gave them a gentle squeeze, feeling them grow even more, if that was possible.

He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, pulling it forward and off her shoulders, then placed it on the arm of the couch behind him.

Her breasts were magnificent, they were large but not enormous. They were firm and proud, her nipples were pinky-brown and were a magnet for his lips. He sucked each of her nipples as she moaned quietly. Then she took his face between her two hands and pushed him back a little, so he was looking directly into her eyes. Without taking her eyes off his own she said in a breathless, husky voice, "Do you think you could show me your bedroom again, please."

He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. As soon as they entered the room, he took her in his arms and kissed her again, he couldn't get enough of her warm, soft, cherry red lips. They used their tongues to explore each other's mouths, their tongues sharing their saliva.

He led her further into the room, until they were standing next to his bed. She started to unbutton his white shirt, while he kept kissing her. She undid his belt, pulled his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans then removed it.

She looked at his body and felt as if she wanted to lick it all over. She noticed a white scar on his right shoulder, about four inches long, "How did you get that?" She asked. "Bike accident when I was a kid," he replied, "I fell off and was gored by a brake lever." She kissed the scar, put her index finger on it, then ran her finger down his chest and over his flat stomach to the waistband of his jeans.

Unhooking the waistband button, she pulled down his zip, then falling to her knees, she pulled his jeans and boxers down in one movement, holding them down to the floor so he could step out of his loafers and clothes at the same time.

His semi-erect penis was on a level with her face, and without hesitation, she reached up and took hold of it, then brought her lips and tongue to it. She licked around his cockhead, then kissed it, and kissed all the way down the side to the fuzz of pubic hair on his belly, then back up again until her lips were on the tip. She saw that he was longer and thicker than her husband. She fed his rigid cock into her mouth and proceeded to suck him, as she bobbed backwards and forwards, getting him into her just far enough to feel him at the back of her throat.