I've written hundreds of erotic short stories, but never published anything. Let me know if you want more. Here goes...
I surprised at myself that day at the hardware store, and, as a married woman, I must admit I'm not particularly proud of my behavior, although I always get a frisson of excitement whenever I think about what I did. I was buying light bulbs at Home Depot and noticed a fit-looking young man in shorts and a T-shirt walking in front of me pushing a cart. I couldn't help but notice how well his tight shorts fitted him. He looked as if he worked out a lot, and he filled out his clothes very nicely. Let's face it, he had a great body.
While I was staring rather intently at his well-shaped ass, he was joined by a woman, and I blushed with embarrassment when I realized I knew them. It was a distant friend, Marianne, so the hot guy must be her husband Josh.
I didn't know them well enough to stop and chat, so I finished my shopping and hurried to my car in the light rain that suddenly appeared out of the darkening sky. I was just about to start the engine when I realized the strong guy parked in front of me, loading bags of top soil into the back of a pick-up truck, was Josh. I paused to watch for a few minutes, enjoying the sight of Josh's strong muscles as he squatted to lift each heavy bag. His quads were like ship's ropes on his thighs, and his biceps expanded, stretching the sleeves of his T-shirt like those of a wrestler. My face felt flushed as I watched the movement of his body. When he turned I was shocked to recognize the warm feeling of arousal washing over me as I took in the nice sized bulge at the front of his shorts. I realized I was staring at him. I couldn't just sit there eying him like a creepy stalker, so, despite the rain, I jumped out and went to offer some help.
"Hi, I'm a friend of Marianne," I said, "Need any help?" I felt kind of stupid because obviously I couldn't just pick up a 50 pound bag and toss it up to him, but it was nice to see him smile at me anyway. He was lean and fit and very cute. A raindrop dripped off a lock of his dirty blond hair that was turning dark in the rain. His shorts were as tight as a drum over his firm buttocks. Damn, he was sexy.
"No, I've got this," he said, jumping down from the bed of the truck to hoist the last one. Marianne must have been staying dry in the car. Looking back it was rather rude of me to chat to Josh without saying hi to her, but I think I was rather enjoying the interaction with such an attractive man. There was some kind of chemistry at work that I couldn't admit to. But neither could I resist its magic. I liked him a lot.
"Handy truck for a job like this" I said, prolonging the conversation. I waved briefly at Marianne who was frowning at me through the raindrops on her window as if she hadn't recognized me.
"Yeah, but I'm selling it, in case you're interested in a nice 5-year old Ford."
"Maybe!" I said. "Let me check with my husband." I watched him lift the last bag. He really kept himself in shape, I thought. I watched his glutes working as he stood up holding the heavy bag of topsoil. "And what if he's interested?"
"Here, let me give you my number," he said, and I accepted gladly.
As I drove away I felt a thrill of excitement at getting the phone number of a hot guy, just like back in college. I realized I hadn't even said anything to Marianne, but the rain had started to come down harder, so that was my excuse. The truth was I had enjoyed the little flirtation with him, and totally forgot about her.
Did I have any intention of mentioning the Ford pickup to John? I don't know. But I sort of convinced myself that a woman like me might want a pickup truck; they're not just for men. I could imagine myself driving one. After all, my husband and I were childless, despite having tried for three years, and a pickup would signal that the woman at the wheel was independent, fun and a little devil-may-care. Just how I imagined myself to be. Or wanted to be, at least. Perhaps I could put a lipstick icon or something on the back window. I wanted to be a Mom too, but that didn't seem to be happening.
Over the next day or two I talked myself into the thought of a pickup truck. My old Cadillac had done plenty of miles. It used to belong to my father, but since he didn't drive any more he had given it to me -- big bouncy springs, pale green leather seats and everything. So, a few days later I called Josh's number to ask about the truck.
"Yeah, it's still for sale." he said.
"Could I come over and take a look at it, maybe, perhaps on Wednesday?" I asked. "I know I said John might be interested but he's not. But I am kind of interested in it myself." My heart was beating faster than usual. As I said it, it occurred to me that I'd picked a day that John would be out of town, and I could feel my cheeks reddening with some sort of embarrassment. Embarrassment at my deviousness? Or was it arousal?
"Er, well, I'm out and about a bit on Wednesday." Josh said. An idea struck me then, and I knew it was wrong, but I went ahead and blurted it out anyway, even though I was lying to him.
"Well, my old Cadillac's in the shop anyway, so I'm without wheels. Is there any chance you could, I don't know, swing by our house and show it to me?"