The following is a stand-alone sequel to "The Bodacious Blonde Milf". I wrote that story a decade ago, enjoyed those characters, and wanted to continue their interaction. It took me years to bring this story to fruition. This story is readable on its own merits. You don't have to read "The Bodacious Blonde Milf" to enjoy this submission. Neither of these contributions are long stories. They can both be enjoyed in one reading (wink..wink) session. While they could be categorized as stroke stories, there is a plot involved.
I haven't written in the mature category throughout the years, but I do enjoy writing about mature women refined in their beauty and their grace. I hope all of that is displayed in this story. The background is that the co-subjects of this story are Linda, a woman in her early 40s, a typical All-American mother living the perceived American dream of a life and feeling like something is missing, and Bob, your typical unattached male, approaching 30 years old, still has a lot of growing up to do and is still trying to find his way through life. Together they are searching for something that life has not afforded them thus far.
The background for this story is the Holidays, a setting where many adults feel unsettled causing them to act out in ways that they normally wouldn't. It is a time of flux; the ending of one year leading to the beginning of another. It is a time of change and evolution. It is a time where we agonize over promises broken and contemplate new promises and envision new realities. That is what this story is all about. I hope that you enjoy this submission, and if you do, will you please consider supporting this story and my authorship by casting a vote in my favor for the Literotica "Winter Holidays Contest 2017".
Thank You!
The Fantasizer.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I couldn't get her out of my mind. It was pretty much all I thought about. I was consumed and it was taking over my life. It was so fresh. My encounter with Linda felt like the biggest moment of my life. In ways I felt guilty about having such a moment with a married woman, but there had been so much of a sexual charge in the experience that it created an obsession. I wanted her again. I wanted to feel that again. Thinking about it made me so hot that I could hardly stand myself.
Here I was on Christmas Eve and I definitely wanted to see the lovely Linda again, but you have to understand how nervous I was. I had an excuse. Linda had forgotten the wine I had given her and I thought she'd probably be at home and I could deliver it to her there.
After our encounter, I had gone on the internet and found out everything I could about her. I found her address and now knew exactly where she lived. Hell, I'd even already driven by her house because of my obsessive curiosity.
I found a way to have a conversation with my mother about Linda. Of course, I didn't let Mom know my intent. Mom was a pretty good friend of Linda's, but they weren't best friends or anything. Linda had been to our house a few times as I recall, when we had had some get-togethers, but she wasn't in my mother's closest circle of friends. She was just someone who had always been around.
So yeah, it had been three days. Thinking about it all made my libido percolate. Continually I debated whether to follow through on going to Linda's house to see her. I knew that we would see one another again and it would definitely be awkward. There was no putting the genie back in the bottle, and besides, why would I ever want to. I enjoyed the experience. I knew I wanted more of this experience.
At the end of our Christmas Eve shift, which was 4pm, after sending out the last of the food, customers leaving, and the final clean up, on a last minute spur of the moment thing, I decided what the hay. I was going to make that surprise visit to see Linda. Yeah, the more I thought of it, the more I vibrated, but it was also an endorphin rush. I had the bottles of wine and I had another excuse. I was going to take a gift certificate and invite Linda to the restaurant for a free New Year's Eve celebration.
As I was getting ready to leave, Mom reminded me that guests would be coming over to our house at 7pm. I told her I needed to go do some things before the stores closed. I still lived at home with Mom. I had no reason to move out. Dad had died in my teenage years and we lived in the upper middle class side of town. I helped mom take care of the house and had my own arrangement as far as living quarters go.
Mom stayed down on the first floor in a room off to the side of the house and I lived upstairs in my old room. My mother and father's old room had been converted into a guest room. Mom just didn't want to sleep in that room after my dad had died. It was a cool little set up and it was free. My younger sister lived out of town with her soon to be husband.
Anyhoo, life is great, but we all need our space sometimes. It's hard to be a bachelor under our arrangement. Mom wants me to have my space, but like any mother she worries. She wants to know where I am and what I'm up to. That can put a crimp in chasing pussy, if you know what I mean. Sorry to be blunt, but we all have our needs.
After work, I drove down the road towards Linda's house. It was only natural to have some second thoughts on the 15 minute drive from the restaurant. On the way there, I thought about how she wasn't much over forty. I knew she had been married to her husband Charles for about twenty years. Something had flipped a switch in my mind about this woman to make me think of her as a hot Milf. She was definitely a Milf.
I had heard her speak with my mother about her two sons in the past. Will was 17 and he was graduating from high school in June and her younger son was Rob who was 15. She was as proud of her boys as any mother would be and was always talking about their exploits in school and their lives outside of school. Her descriptions were of your basic All-American family.
I really think Linda had no clue about her Milfness. She always came off as a conservative business lady, who carried herself in the most professional manner and wanted to always be taken seriously. But, something was uncovered the other day and deep down I felt that there was a bit of a bad girl in her, like with most women. I was lost in my own reverie, thinking about her five-five frame that carried those sexy toned legs. a jiggly ass, and a sexy bodacious rack that hung bountifully and perfectly. It made me shiver thinking about it, when I really hadn't thought about it until a few days before.
It was more of an autumn like day on this day before Christmas. Personally, I was feeling very warm as I pulled into Linda's driveway. It was a typical brick house located in a cookie cutter neighborhood -- people call these McMansions. This was out in a suburban area of town. I'd never visited her house before, but I could see exactly where people would go to be greeted.
I sat for a moment building up my courage and then gathered the bottles of wine in the gift bag, along with the gift certificate, and headed down the path towards the wreath adorned front door. Ringing the doorbell, I waited, hearing someone pad towards the door until it was unlocked and the door pulled open. It was Linda's husband Charles, which gave me second thoughts. Now I did remember this guy as he addressed me, "Hello."
I introduced myself, "Hey, I'm Bob Johnson, I'm chef at the Cafe Orleans. I was coming by to bring some gifts to Linda."
"Oh yeah, nice restaurant... Let me get her. You can come on in," he nonchalantly responded.
"That's ok. I'll just lea...," I was ready to drop the gifts and run from my nervousness.
"No. Come on in. She's in the kitchen," he insisted.
"Oh-OK. Thank You," I stepped inside and followed Charles as we headed a few feet to their kitchen.
"Charles, who is it?" I could hear Linda call out.
"It's Bob from Cafe Orleans." ... just as we met at the entrance of the room.
I could see the shock on Linda's face. To me, she looked like she had seen a ghost. "H-hey Bob," she spoke as I approached with the bag.
I handed the bag to her and fished for what to say through my nervousness, "Th-This is for you. You f-forgot it the other day and I-I wanted to bring it b-by and I wanted to say sorry for the other day," as I was lost in her eyes, wishing I could kiss her, but also wanting to run away.
She nodded her head, but I guess she couldn't think of anything to say as Charles imperviously interjected and took the bag, "What did he bring us?"
