The life of a travelling sales rep is odd, often fragmented and unpredictable. Maxim knows this - has always known it. He is a sales rep for an office machine company, and one day, not long ago, an itinerary change brought him, in the middle of his scheduled field trip, within striking distance of his hometown. "I'll just pop in for lunch. Surprise the hell out of Mollie!" he chortles to himself, as he swings off the freeway and heads for the house.
He doesn't think anything about returning home unexpectedly, and while he's never done it before, he doesn't even consider calling ahead. An unfamiliar car in the driveway vaguely puzzles him, and, as he parks behind it and enters the kitchen by the back door, some curious feeling of unease stops him from announcing his arrival. Instead, he cocks his head and hears noises from down the corridor, from the bedroom - voices and laughter and activity. So he tip-toes down the hall, and silently peers around the partially closed door.
Curiously, Max is not really surprised to see, naked and bouncing - or more like romping - on the bed, Mollie, his wife, with an equally naked stranger. Stranger to Max in any case, though it seems fairly obvious that he has more than a passing acquaintanceship with Mollie. "It is," Max thinks to himself, "almost too clichéd."
Holding still for the time being, he watches surreptitiously as Mollie, laughing and carrying on, dives between her lover's legs. She attacks the rampant boner with a gleeful gusto, pushing herself deep onto it, making herself gag; then, giggling around the shaft, rises back up to catch a breath, keeping her partner's cock-head in her mouth, before plunging back down, hard and deep, over and over! Max marvels at her exuberance. She is gobbling her lover up with an enthusiasm Max hasn't seen in years.
He watches as she shuffles up and positions herself over the steely erection - a proudly standing stiffy that even Max has to, reluctantly, admit is pretty impressive! Mollie lines herself up and carefully lowers herself onto the tip of the upright member. She beams down at her chuckling lover, who lifts his arms to grip her chest. Grabbing one of his biceps, she crooks the other arm, raising her hand over her head, and with a whoop and a whirl, she lets herself drop, impaling herself on the full length of his cock.
Max turns quietly and leaves them, unnoticed - she, riding her lover, cowgirl - bouncing and yipping and laughing. Max couldn't actually recall he and her ever having so much fun fucking.
When he gets home again, following the remainder of the field-trip, he asks her to join him in the living room - in a "We need to talk,"-sort of way. He gets right to the point, and, remaining very civil, he accuses her of cheating - explaining calmly how he knows. "So, how did this all come about?" he asks, actually wanting to know. Mollie is, oddly, no more surprised at being caught than Max is at catching her.
She describes a spontaneous, almost innocuous beginning, staring off in a kind of dreamy reminiscence. "We met at a crosswalk, actually. If you can believe it." Mollie shakes her head as if she has a hard time believing it herself. "We both felt we'd met before. Although we eventually determined, over coffee, that we hadn't. Still, mystified, we acknowledged an instant mutual connection."
She raises her gaze to meet Max's. "You were on the road, of course. So, without much discussion at all, we took a room." Shrugging her shoulders, she adds, "It was just kinda carnal instinct."
"...and why?" Max queries.
"Unexplainable," she claims. "Spur of the moment fling, maybe? To start, anyway. And, believe it or not, it was the first, and, indeed, only time I've strayed. Notwithstanding, good sex coupled with a bit of naughtiness made a repeat performance irresistible!" Max refrains from pointing out that wholesale adultery is rather more serious than 'being a bit naughty.' "It quickly developed into a full-fledged on-going affair." She flicked her brows in a subtle what-can-you-do gesture.
Max stares, his gaze blank, so Mollie goes on. "Over six months, now. However it began, we've become more than simply fuck-buddies." She pauses, and considers him for a time. Then, "So, in answer to the question you are about to ask: no, I am not willing to give it up." Not getting any response, she goes on. "It's partly your fault, you know, for being gone so often."
So it goes. It is an amicable separation, and the divorce goes through, without incident.
But Maxim suddenly finds himself having frequent, vivid fantasies of spontaneous, casual sex with strangers that he sees anywhere - in the mall, in the street, at the grocery store, eating in restaurants, drinking in bars, walking in parking lots, sitting in cars. While he is intrigued, he gives it little consideration, thinking it must simply be some sort of manifestation of his newfound loneliness, of which he is otherwise unaware.
Then, driving one day, something very odd happens. Without any warning, lots of light and noise engulfs the car - like being in an explosion without the devastation. Max thinks that, maybe, he just got struck by lightning. Whatever, it passes quickly, and after the sputtering engine and the gauges all come back on, and there is no physical damage apparent, Max just keeps on driving; nonetheless, he is shaken. Somewhat dazed and confused, he stops at the next roadside café.
Regaining his composure, he sits at a booth, and, nursing a cup of coffee, he casually begins watching the couple at a nearby table. "She's really quite comely," he decides, "sitting with her husband - or," he grins, "...her lover." Suddenly, Max imagines a simple erotic fantasy of spontaneous, casual, and satisfying sex, starring the anonymous stranger.
Minutes later, heading for the restroom in restaurant, Max catches the eye of woman diner. There is a strange connection, albeit brief - a sparkle, or some sort of palpable discharge. Whatever it is, the woman gets up as he walks by, and as he rounds the corner into the hallway, she pulls him abruptly into the disabled restroom. "I don't know what's come over me," she gasps, looking flushed and perplexed, "but, I'm sure you won't mind if I give you a quick blowjob!" Bewildered, Max simply nods, as she drops into a crouch and begins fiddling with his fly.
Raising her eyes to meet his, she releases his rapidly stiffening erection, and slurps it in. Immediately her entire attention turns back to his cock. Flabbergasted, Max just spiders his fingertips over her ears, puts his head back and enjoys! And man, oh, man, she knows what she's doing! Alternately plunging her mouth firmly onto his peg, then drawing her lips back up his shaft to pause for a beat at his flanged helmet, she takes only a few strokes to get him fully deep-throated. Her hands cupping his ass, pulling him hard against her lips at every in-stroke, until, after a very short while, Max thrusts his hips to meet her plunging mouth, and, stifling a bellow, empties his balls deep into her gullet.
With hardly a gag, she rocks back on her heels and lets his still-turgid prick drop to her chin. Pulling herself to standing, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and, muttering "Well, that was different," she turns on her heel, and walks back into the dining room, leaving Max to stuff his wet dink back into his pants. As he returns to his table, she is in conversation with her table partner, and completely ignores him.
In the evening, at his next stop, after conducting his business, Max finds himself standing in a market check-out line, staring at the back and rump of the woman directly ahead of him - visions of his unexpected, anonymous encounter the night before still flitting randomly across his mind. Weaving in the threads of memory, he runs, as has become his habit since his divorce, a quick fantasy of impromptu, casual sex with the woman in front of him. As she finishes up, gathering her bags, she turns towards him, and, for one fleeting instant, he catches her eye. Once again there's that twinklingly brief connection - that momentary crackle of energy. Initially, Max thinks nothing of it, but, as he leaves the store, there she is, waiting for him, watching for him with an oddly coy smile. Without a word, she accompanies him through the parking lot, beckoning him to an SUV parked in the very back row.
Plopping her groceries in the back, she says, "Just put your stuff here for the time being." Then she hustles him into the back seat, following him in, prodding, "Quick, before someone sees!" As she closes the door behind her, Max realizes the windows are deeply tinted.
With an almost maniacal giggle, she begins pulling off her clothes. "Take your clothes off," she hisses. "Hurry!" Getting mostly naked, she grabs Max's growing rod, and gives it some manual encouragement, before lying back into the corner of the door, lifting, then spreading her legs. Dropping her hands, she spreads her pussy-lips and dips a finger into her obviously damp quim. Raising it to her lips, she dramatically tastes it, before cooing, "C'mon, stud muffin, what are you waiting for?"
After a bit of minor contortions, Max lines himself up and shoves himself in, penetrating his unknown consort fully, his pubes tangling with hers and his rock-hard penis bumping hard against the end of her womb. "Oh yes!" she screams. "Fuck me. Hard, like that! Fuck me! Fuck me! Harder! Harderrrrr!" Her shouts reverberate throughout the car, turning into a keening squeal as she rapidly reaches orgasm. Max keeps pounding, until, bellowing out his release, he floods her innards with cum, inciting yet another shriek from woman beneath him, whose feet are firmly planted on the ceiling. Knees vibrating, she pulls him tight against her chest, shaking uncontrollably as she, apparently, climaxes again.
Max glances quickly out the window, relieved that no one is anywhere nearby, nor appears to be paying them any attention - and at such a busy supermarket! The parking-spot-destiny just adds to the growing mystery of these recent events.
Somewhat baffled by her own behavior, the woman scrambles helter-skelter into her clothes. She shoos him out of the car with a lascivious smile, and a blown kiss; then, mouthing the words, "Wonderful! Thanks!" she drives off in a rush, taking his groceries with her.
The following day is a day off from travel. Max visits the town's one mall. Pre-occupied by the memory of the previous afternoon, he finds himself standing stock-still, staring into space. Slowly coming back into focus, he sees two young women returning his gaze through the window of a clothing store. He, almost laughingly, lets the idea of an erotic threesome with the comely young ladies flicker, oh-so briefly, across his awareness. Still, he detects some sort of spark glitter in the intervening space, and gets a warm 'come-hither' look - or feeling - from the two women. As Max pauses a moment to reevaluate his interpretation of things, the girls impatiently beckon him with their hands, prompting him to follow them into a stall in the fitting room.
