Chance Meeting

***** Pauline *****

I just showed a young, recently married couple a house, they committed to purchase and are taking the offer sheet to their bank to arrange.

I'm stopping at the grocery store to pick up a couple necessary ingredients for tonight's supper, then meeting them at the office to complete the transaction.

I'm excited, my commission for this sale will be approximately 18 grand.

I was on my tiptoes reaching for some natural spice, the outer packages were gone, but I could see one further back and was really stretching.

"Here, let me." He rested his hand on my lower back, unsure if he was steadying himself or me; he retrieved the pack of spice and holding it for me, a genuine affable smile. Our eyes met; I felt a jolt, like an electric shock, tingle through my body.

My heart palpitated; I was breathless, unsure why; it felt weird. I took the package. "Thank you, glad you happened by." I toss it into my cart.

He's gazing at me with an unusual expression. "Well, I must confess, I didn't just happen by."

I realize his hand is still on my lower back, resting partially on my bum; normally this would be considered perversive, however I find it soothing, comforting; even slightly stimulating.

He elaborated, "I noticed you as you entered the store, you remind me so much of my past wife, you're equally as stunning," He had a sparkle in his eyes, his face was glowing. "I can't believe how similar your body is to hers; I followed you, admiring your fine legs and tush." He lifted his hands in a defensive posture.

"I'm sorry; please don't take offense," He stepped back, "I grew up when it was accepted to honestly compliment a pretty woman, I strongly believe every good-looking woman deserves to be praised, and complimented often, especially those as attractive as you."

I couldn't help but just beam from such flattering words; I don't recall ever receiving such a sincere compliment. Not even my husband; let alone a complete stranger.

"Thank you!" I nodded, unsure what to say, I just smiled.

He was tall, wearing a pale blue golf shirt, and tan casual slacks. Short dark hair, well-groomed and in good shape, not an athletic type, but attractively fit. He was likely 10 years older than me, he exuded a comforting, calming, peaceful demeanor; but I detected a sadness in his blue eyes.

Maybe it was the flattering words, but I was attracted to him.

I found the words, "I'm Pauline, thank you for the delightful compliments, no woman could get too many of those, but i agree today's society has put fear into interaction with strangers."

"I'm Vern," he extended his hand. "I returned to buy some wine, when I spotted you, my emotional floodgates opened. I followed you reminiscing with so many wonderful memories from my past." He had tears forming in his eyes "Thank you for that." He turned, I watched him walk away.

I wanted to call out to him, but what would I say; he disappeared around the corner. I felt good about the compliment, yet sad I didn't get a chance to chat; he seemed so kind, and lonely.

I got my few items and was scurrying back to my minivan with the plastic bag in hand. As I backed out, I thought I saw him in my mirror, sitting on the bench at the entrance. I got excited and hurried down the aisle, a little faster than comfortable to drive in a parking lot; I turned and headed down the next aisle toward the front of the store. The bench was empty, I looked around saw no one resembling him. I headed to my real estate office.

*****Vern*****

I returned to the store for a bottle of wine, spotted a sensuous lady who looked so like my deceased Stella, I followed her; had the opportunity to meet her, to compliment and have a brief chat. I so desperately wanted to possibly spark more memories of my Stella. I might have been too forward; not wanting to be a stalker, fearing I might scare her, I waited outside, sitting on a bench beside the entrance doors, hoping she spots me, and we can chat more. I'd return for my wine after she leaves.

She walked past, not noticing me: I didn't speak, just admired her elegant beauty; her gait, her sexiness. The sway of her hips, the uncanny physical resemblance to Stella, if not for the age difference, I could believe she was a twin separated at birth.

My family knew her family growing up, she had no siblings, a cousin perhaps. I watch her get into a real estate minivan and drive off. I head back inside to buy the wine I forgot earlier, 20 years of shopping here, I've never forgot the wine before. Happy though as I got to see Stella's doppelganger. "Hmmpff," maybe it was fate I forgot the wine; I have an invigorating bounce to my step on the walk home, so many memories of Stella in my head. I actually sing our favorite song.

***** Pauline *****

Back at the office.

"What on earth happened to you Pauline?" My coworker and good friend Denise comes to me; she whispers.

"Did you just get laid, you're absolutely radiant." She sits beside me at my desk.

I told her about my shopping encounter.

"I was approached by an absolute gentleman; he said I reminded him of his deceased wife. He was so absolutely gentle, his kind words, melted me, I was aroused."

"Denise, I've never experienced that feeling; he gave off an aura of calm, he was likely 10 years older than me, but damn girl, he emanated sexy, tall, distinguished, fit, well groomed. I believe it would be so out of character for him to ask; but I'm sure if he invited me to a hotel, or his house, I would have indubitably accepted."

I looked around to assure no one was in earshot. "Seriously Denise, in the store as he was talking, I imagined his naked body on top of mine, my legs around his waist, me writhing in ecstasy, as he sensuously deep stroked me to a multiple orgasm. All the while his tongue swirling mine making passionate love." I squirm in my chair.

"Thinking about him, me telling you my fantasy, has got me horny again." I continue, "I know nothing about him; other than he told me his name is Vern." I smiled, admitted in a whisper, "Denise I've never considered an affair before today."

I'm interrupted by our secretary, "The Simpson's are here," I stand, straighten my dress, go and greet them at the reception desk.

We do about 30 minutes of paperwork with pleasant happy chatter, all paperwork signed, I head home for the day. As soon as I get in my SUV, I remove my soaked underwear. On route, all I can think about is fornication with Vern. I diddle myself, so close, but my awareness of driving prevents me the focus to climax.

Arriving home I toss the bag of items purchased and my purse on the sofa, stripping while rushing to my bedroom. Naked, I grab my 8" dildo, from my nightstand drawer, splay myself on the bed, legs wide, I stuff the entire toy in my sopping cunt.

"MMMnnnggghhh, I pinch a nipple, rub my clit, a few furious thrusts and my legs clamp together.

"UUNNNGGHHH," I roll over, onto my stomach, continuous spasms. I'm humping, hips twerking, wiggling the phony phallus, I quiver, as another cluster of mini climax's release. Relishing in the intense emotional pleasure.

Now that that frenzied lustful craving has been pacified; I begin a relaxed fantasy of Vern seducing me, a leisurely day of foreplay, hours of erotic copulation.

Dreaming of Vern... almost an hour of masturbating, I have several orgasms.

*****Vern*****

I called my son, had a serious conversation discussing me selling the house and getting something smaller, maybe a condo apartment. He agreed, but suggested I rent before buying.

I called Suzy, my daughter, she also agreed it was the right time, and to rent an apartment, before committing to a lease, she was adamant I don't buy until I am sure, I can survive in a smaller place, without a yard. She also made a valid argument suggesting if Don or her ended up in another city, I might want to join them.

Both conversations concluded I should sell; but rent rather than buy.

***** Pauline *****

I made supper but couldn't get the chance meeting with Vern out of my mind. I was constantly envisioning us in various sexual scenarios, my body being stimulated by those tender, caring hands, my aroused body receiving an attentive, languorous, encounter, a tranquil evening of erotic euphoria.

I fought off the urge to shower and masturbate again after supper.

I envision a much deserved, sexy romp with Brad tonight, I'd request a massage, maybe he can divert my lewd desire to cheat.

I guess, my arousal was psychologically transmitted to Brad, as he became attentive; cuddled with me on the couch, he even initiated foreplay and suggested we turn in early; much to my delight.

Our sex life is typical, normal I think, a couple times a week, however it seldom has that fiery passion, as in the earlier years; after 8 years of marriage, it's become routine; seldom satisfying for me.

Today was the first day I ever considered an affair; Vern is the only person I've ever fantasized fucking me; I'm unbelievably horny.

I take a lingerie set Brad hasn't seen into the bathroom.

I admire my exquisite body in the mirror, I am very proud to have maintained a 37 26 35 figure at 36. My skin is still tight and smooth, 120 lb. short blonde hair. I'm occasionally told I am sexy and attractive, but Vern did it in a way that induced profound carnal desires in me. Recalling our encounter, his effect on me, arouses me once again.

I wipe my pubic region with a warm cloth, evoking my previous promiscuous fantasies; "No," I whisper to myself, Brad's waiting. I don the sexy red lace outfit.

I spray a minor amount of perfume between my boobs and on my belly, enough to be enticing, but not too much to distract from my natural feminine aroma.

I'm feeling extraordinarily raunchy due to Vern's influence.

I pause to pose sideways in the doorframe, anticipating some warm approval or admiration. My right arm grasps the frame behind my head, my right leg bends, my foot also on the frame, I cock my head to peer at Brad lying on the bed. I'm visualizing a wild, sensational, evening of gratifying sex. I give him a sultry, promiscuous gaze. Nothing; he simply smiles holds out his hand.

I'm disappointed, I feel hurt, obviously my posing attempt, vying for a compliment, inspired nothing; any miniscule expression of desire from Brad, would've been appreciated.

{'Am I being taken for granted; does he even see my beauty anymore?'}

Brad's never been a verbal one, I did see a glint of excitement reflected in his eyes.

I slowly, seductively, hands on my hips, one foo crossing over in front of the other, I stride toward the bed; In my sexiest husky whisper, "Could you give this sexy gal a massage, big boy?" The moment I get close enough he pulls me to the bed, he lifts the fabric his mouth goes to my boob, his fingers instantly to my pussy.

{'Not at all what I wanted, should I stop him?'}

His body was swiftly on top of me, between my legs and guiding his cock into me quicker than you could say lickety split. I took longer to put on the lingerie than he did to dismiss it.

{I'm disgruntled, I requested a massage, to initiate some sexy, feverish foreplay, leading to serene, loving intercourse.}

This is nowhere near what my mind perceived, my arousal diminished as quickly as his escalated. I groan as he's copulating; but not from pleasure, my salvation is it also ended quickly. Doubt the entire event took all of 5 minutes.

He rolls over without so much as a kiss.

I go to the bathroom.

What a frustrating ending to such an uplifting day.

{'Why did I put so much effort into this evening? he didn't appreciate any of it.'}

I remove the lingerie; tears begin to flow, sitting on the toilet, my head in my hands, elbows on my knees; I assess our marriage.

I try recalling the last time Brad complimented me; I came up empty. My next mental investigation comprised of the last time he made passionate love to me; with foreplay, tenderly, lovingly; where he was wanting to make me feel special kind of sex.

Again, I struggle, without immediate recollection; I do remember many times in our first year, and realize it's dwindled since; these past couple years have been seriously spiraling.

Demoralized, no longer desiring even masturbation, frustrated, disgusted, I drag my feet back to bed.

Brad's heavy breathing indicates he's sound asleep. I lift the covers and crawl in.

{'Oh great, if that isn't the epitome to top off the evening, I get to attempt to navigate around the wet spot.'}

I take my pillow, fetch a blanket from the closet and lay on the sofa.

I awoke well before the alarm the next morning, with a sore neck; believe you me, I was tired and grumpy. I went for a shower and made no attempt to be quiet so Brad could sleep.

He remained in bed, I dressed and left without speaking to him; I went to the coffee shop near work for breakfast.

My mind assessing our marriage; maybe not the ideal time, as I'm so annoyed.

Is any marriage salvageable without loving, effort from both? I take sip of coffe, and bite my bagel.

Is this the beginning of the end? Is this already the end? Is this why I considered cheating? Yes, I'm not only fantasizing, but I'm also pondering an affair; my husband's been treating me as a sperm receptacle. Is it time I call it quits" Do I try and salvage it? Hmmpphhhh, save what?

I finish my bagel. Another sip of coffee.

Last night was strike one, that's generous, it was strike two, strike one should be from all his previous misgivings, indifferences, lack of affection.

{Damn that's generous, one strike for each 3 years of dissatisfaction.}

I arrive at the office before anyone else, I've decided, I'll become aloof and gauge Brad's behavior over the next few days. His response will guide my direction.

I take the necessary time to share my evening with Denise; I can't shake the funk I'm in. She somewhat understands my plan going forward; but suggests "You're being WAAAYYY to generous, dump his ass right now."

It was a slow day at the office, and I'm not in the most positive frame of mind, to do any follow up activity in my depressed state; so, I search some online dating sites.

I guess I do see the writing on the wall. I'll wait a while before I start a profile, just browsing for now.

I again think of Vern, he instigated this. I know divorce will be for the best; I'll quickly survive this. Good job, good friends, good looking, I'll find a good man.

After lunch I went to the lingerie store; bought the sexiest outfit I could find.

{'Another opportunity for Brad, not really; more of a test.'}

I laid it out on the bed, before my routine of preparing for bed.

"Ooooh. Is that for my viewing pleasure?" Brad asks as he enters the bedroom. "Two nights in a row, what did I do to deserve this?"

{'Ya, it's all about you.'} Was all I could think, I've decided this comment was the pitch, a fastball, hurtling through the air for strike 3.

Then, 'POOF' I get a perfect comeback; "ever think it might be what you didn't do?" I glared at him, hoping he'd hear the intended message, unsure I elaborate, "I felt extremely sexy last night, when I put on that outfit, sexier than I have in a very long time." I sit on the bed, "it wasn't anything you did."

Picking up the skimpy lace, "I haven't felt very sexy lately, I saw the effect it had on you, and today when I was shopping and saw this one, I thought it might help put me in the mood, but yet again your comment made me I lose the feeling of sexiness. I intend to return it," I go to my dresser, and place it in the store's bag.

He didn't reply... nothing. He just accepted that and began brushing his teeth.

{'I'm puzzled, did he understand without explanation? Why would he shut down so easily? After last night he should want to see me in lingerie, wouldn't he?' Does he even care. He must already have someone else.'}

I took the bag from the bedroom.

This was the first time I thought.

Strike 3 of my 'do we save this marriage' delivered and caught.

I get a glass of wine and a second, waiting until I'm sure he's asleep before I turn in.

*****Vern*****

It was a couple days marinating the concept of downsizing, selling the family home. I went through each room individually reliving memories, the bedroom took the longest, but in the end, I was confident, it was time to move on. The memories would move with me.

I had mentally accepted the decision.

I had another chat with both kids, to see if any new concerns had popped up that might need addressing. In this conversation I shared I'd seen their mom's twin or a doppelganger at the store, that she was the one that initiated my thoughts of selling and was the agent I intended to call.

That ignited a myriad of questions. Both were adamant they wanted to meet her. I reassured them if I move forward with the sale, I will arrange a meeting with all of us.

I felt good making the decision; dialed the real estate office and Pauline wasn't in, telling the receptionist, "I'd like to discuss listing my house with Pauline." I left my full name, address and phone number.

I got a call later in the day from Pauline, we set an appointment for 2pm the next day. I was excited to see her again.

***** Pauline *****

I arrived at the agreed time, to Vernon Marchand's home, as the doorbell chimed the door opened.

{'My gawd it's Vern, the full name didn't register; I thought I'd never see him again.'}

My heart palpitated, my loins instantly tingled, mind racing, flashbacks of my lewd fantasies. I got goosebumps and my tummy fluttered.

I was giddy, like a schoolgirl, being invited to the Prom by my crush.

Ok, as I walked up the sidewalk, I confirmed my goal to get a listing to sell this house... my priority instantly changed... I'm now here to get fucked by a gentleman who appreciates me and I'm tremendously hot for... then maybe I'll concentrate on getting a listing for a house.

Nearly out of breath, "Hello Vern." My excitement has to be obvious; I'm frikkin vibrating with excitement.

"Pauline, look at you, absolutely stunning, that color looks spectacular on you." He takes my hand, so delicately. My gosh I'm afraid to speak, I'm lightheaded, I'm horny as fuck, my mind flashes to my feverish masturbation session. I'm flustered, I'm in awe... ok, I need to calm down, get control of my emotions.

"Well, of course your beauty shines no matter what you wear." He escorts me in; still delicately holding my hand. Yes, he is so calming. I take a deep breath, mustering enough composure to speak. "Well Vern you're a very handsome man too."

{'Oh, how lame is that... be still my beating heart.'}

He bends his arm, takes my hand, placing it on his arm escorts me to the living room, like a butler.

I ask. "So how is it you called me, I never expected to ever see you again; but you have no Idea how glad I am, I've thought of you often."

{Oh, how I've thought about you, several times a day; so many positions of fornication.'}

"Before we get into the business at hand; will you join me in a glass of white wine?"

He releases my hand.

"I'd love too." I do a quick scan, he heads to the kitchen, basic furniture, very tidy, well-kept house, dated, no frills, a definite man's house.

Returning with 2 glasses and an uncorked bottle. Vern pours 2 wines, passing her one and sitting nearly at opposite ends of the sofa, cautious, not wanting to get to close, unsure how receptive she might be after our awkward first meeting. We make some small talk, she seems to be flirting, the short yellow dress isn't covering much, her sculpted legs rather enticing, I think she's even sexier today than when we met. Her legs aren't tight together, and I notice from my viewpoint as I lean toward the coffee table, she's not a natural blonde or she's wearing dark panties.