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Two people meet at a supper club resort in Wisconsin
WC 2386

The Chance Encounter

It was good to have a quiet dinner after a hard days work. The shop had been hectic but the engine finally surrendered its stubborn valves and pistons. The crankshaft even decided to cooperate and finally dropped out the bottom end. As I sat pensively, looking out at the lake, a young woman walked into the dining room. She was tall but not overweight, a big girl but well proportioned. She was built like an athlete and had a honey gold complexion. Her lips were sensuous and nostrils a bit flared, suggesting an Afro-American heritage. I watched as her breasts heaved bemeath the lace border of her simple black dress. I watched as she talked on a cell phone. The conversation appeared strained and stressful. Paying more attention than appropriate, I chided myself about being nosey, paid the check and left the dining room.

I went into the bar and ordered a bourbon and coke. It tasted good and I felt that glow of relaxation begin to spread; that is until my cell phone began to jangle. It was my agent telling me the article I'd written had been picked up by a syndicated publication. Delighted, we talked for a few minutes, discussing ideas for some follow-up work. This was my third sale and the month was barely half over. After hanging up, the woman from the dining room walked into the bar and took a seat. She had a deflated look.

The days success gave me an unexpected confidence. Impulsively I introduced myself.

“Hi, I’m Frank, and today I"m on a bit of a roll.” It was one of those uncontrived openings that just blurted out. “Doesn’t look like you can say the same."

A startled look flashed across her brow. Her defense mechanisms shifted into the combat mode.

"Mind if I buy you a drink?"

She gave me the once over, trying to decide between fight and flight. “I’m not much with an opening line, but I’m really a nice guy.“

The storm clouds lightened. "Is that the best you can do?"

“Afraid so….I’m not exactly the outgoing type.”

“Does your wife know you're here?”

“Don't have one," I replied. “Can you cook?”

"Now, that's an improvement," she replied, halfway amused. "Matter of fact I can... I'm something of a gourmet." Her mood began to soften and I caught the glimmer of a smile.

“You look like someone who's good at everything,” I countered.

The tension began to relax.

“My father used to say….if you can’t do it right don’t do it at all.....”

Yes, I thought to myself, watching her settle into the conversation.

“Sounds like my old man.”

She continued on like not really listening.

“...With my diet I have to stick to small portions and what I eat, I insist on being good.”

“Same here,” I answered. “That’s why I like this place…the food.”

I sighed inwardly, relieved that that things were starting to flow.

“... Plus I like my cuisine spicy.”

“Then you must like Mexican. “

“I do, how about you?”

“I prefer Italian."

“I might have guessed with that swarthy complexion."

I was beginning to relaxl... she was making the conversation easy.

“I sure like your dress," I observed, "It suits you.”

"What are you, a fashion designer?" Her eyes rolled.

"Sort of...I build cars...everything from Rat Rods to Concurs 'de Elegance.

“Sounds like a mechanic to me," she said, rubbing her eyes in discomfort.

“It’s really smoky in here. If you want to continue this conversation, let’s step outside.”

Sometimes I get premonitions - both good and bad. They come over me like a cool breeze or a roll of thunder. Something was about to happen. There was something special about her that radiated. The connection was there, hanging in the air, full of energy and potential. We stepped out onto the patio and walked over to the rail. There was no breeze and the lake was like a mirror, still and placid.

“My names Beth,” she said noncommittally. “You seem like a nice enough fellow.”

I paused...(There's a part of me that's self destructive.)

"Nice enough for what?" I replied and immediately regretted how it came out.

She took it as expected. "Is that all you men think about?”

"Sorry," I back-peddled, " Social skills are definitely not as asset."

"...And what is, If I dare to ask?"

"Well... I do make some awesome automobiles...


I was thinking it's a lovely evening for a drive, and I just happen to have one in the parking lot."

"I think I'll pass... I doubt that’s what you think you’re best at."

Damn! I chided myself, Say something., Dummy!

"Do I get a chance to take this foot out of my mouth?"

"So you have that problem too?" The tension evaporated and she chuckled shaking her head. "So, what would you like to do, besides get me in the back seat?"

"Start over... Maybe we can take a walk around the lake... the path is almost carpeted this time of year...covered with leaves and pine needles."

"Hmmm.... you look trustworthy... but there’s something about your voice… like I’m being conned."

"I promise, no surprises, Scout's Honor."

"We need to be back before dark."

For the first few minutes we walked side by side in silence. I didn't want to press my luck and she didn't seem to mind the lack of conversation. For that I was grateful because I'm not exactly the debonoire type. At length, however, the suspense became unbearable and I spoke up.

"This is a perfect Indian Sumner day and being with you is the icing on the cake."

She took my hand...A current passed between us. My heart pounded and I tried to sound casual.

"Ready to head back?" I asked.

"Suppose so," My boss is driving in late tonight and I've some work to do."

"Is that what’s been troubling you?"

"He can be troubling. Does it show?"

"You seemed anxious on the phone."

"My, aren't you the observant one....a veritable Sherlock Holmes."

"I'll admit I've been paying close attention…."

She squeezed my hand and we walked back to the lodge.

"Well Sir Galahad, I must say this has been a nice interlude. Now, show me this car of yours."

We went around to the front and just the other side of the hedge was the 1939 Chevy. It exuded an aura of power and masculinity. She rubbed her hand on the gleaming black finish.

“Maybe I'll take that ride after all. Want to see where I work?”

"I'd love to," I answered, holding open the door.

“I always wanted to ride in one these,” she said, “but nobody I ever knew had one.”

In the car we settled into the plush leather upholstery. The engine roared to life and we rolled out of the parking lot like two big shots in a limousine. Her skirt rode up and I noticed a shapely leg. She noticed I noticed.

"Pretty plain what's on your mind."

"I'm a man," I replied. "Don't fault me for looking."

"I don't mind that," she came back, "Its only when you start drooling."

Easy now, I told myself...Don't ruin it.

"What do you do for a living?" I shifted gears and the old lead sled surged through an intersection with a deep and powerful rumble.

"I'm a real estate broker," she answered. "My agency does high end properties."

It didn’t take long to get to the office. The sign read Monarch Real Estate. Beth jumped out, stepping briskly up the walk and unlocked the door. It was an imposing log structure that soared on the inside almost like a cathedral. The lights came on and the interior shown with antique furniture and old world architecture. I thought about the agency where I rented my mobile home. It was quite a contrast.

“Here in the Great Room is where the agents have their work stations. My office is in the back… It connects to a small condo.”

She exuded a confidence born of success. Her office was well appointed and spacious, filled with pictures of past sales and memorabilia.

“Care for a drink?” she asked, stepping behind a dry sink. The door to her apartment stood open revealing an elegantly furnished living area.

“Bourbon and coke.”

From underneath she brought out a bottle and glasses. I heard a fridge door open and close and the clash of an old fashioned ice tray surrendering its cubes.

“I like mine on the rocks,” she offered with a wry smile.

Her gaze shifted to the bulge in my trousers and lingered before looking up. She handed me the tumbler and we clinked glasses and began sipping together.

"I spend a lot of time in here," she said pensively... "Way too much."

Motioning for me to follow she walked into her apartment. In the middle of the living room she stopped abruptly and turned with an expectant look.

“This is where I spend my lonely nights."

"Very nice," I answered.

"Tell me Sherlock, have you ever acted impulsively?"

"What do you mean?"

Beth reached back and took hold of her dress, pulling it over her shoulders. Casually she tossed it onto the couch. Facing me in a silk slip, she set her feet and struck a sultry pose. Things were moving... faster than expected.

“Cat got your tongue?” she inquired.

I hesitated. “I didn’t come here for a one night stand...”

“Darn! Then please explain why you picked me up and agreed so readily?”

“I was intrigued and hoped to lift your spirits.”

“Well, Frank, my man, you have. Now its time you lifted something else.”

My heart skipped as she began to gather the silk up about her waist. Her panties were drawn tight about her thighs.

"It's been a long time since I was with a woman..."I said, betraying the acuteness of my need. “I want you Beth, really bad."

“I was wondering when you were going to fess up. Time to take off your armor, Sir Galahad.”

My resistance evaporated. “I thought this only happened in the movies.”

“Tonight you're going to be my hero.”

"Is this an audition?"

"And I'll be your leading lady."

At times it seemed like we were talking past each other.

“What does a pretty girl like you, see in a guy like me?”

She kicked off her shoes. “Suppose we find out.”

I extended my arms. She stepped close snuggling into my chest, toying with the buttons on my shirt. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating. “You smell good.”

Her lips reached up and we kissed, hesitantly at first and then with more energy. “That was nice,” she said. “Hmmmm.”

We sat down on the bed continuing to pet, our passions building until finally falling back onto the pillows. In slow motion came the time for discovery, feeling and caressing. Our hearts pounded with expectation. My finger tips tugged at the lace, revealing the cup of her bra. I reached inside and touched her nipple.

Her hand reached low, taking hold and squeezing the strain of my flesh. It throbbed with anticipation. She unbuckled my belt and zipped down, letting the eagerness rise up through the seam of my boxers. Her eyes grew wide as she noted the sheer physical presence.

"Oh my goodness gracious..."

Pushing her back on the bed I reached behind and unsnapped her bra. Her breasts spilled out as the straps fell loose about her shoulders.

"Oh my goodness gracious, " I mimed.

She laid there for a moment, looking vulnerable. I lifted off for a better look.

She took the opportunity to pull her slip off and toss it aside.

A primitive urgency took control and there is no denying what followed. Fumbling hands and groping fingers searched eagerly. Our clothes fell scattered until we shamelessly beheld the wonder of each other's bodies. Pinning her to the mattress, I probed through a tangle of swirling hair, finding the pathway to her womb. She groaned as I twisted the head inside. "Oh GAWD," she cried out, as the physical truth muscled through the doorway. She squirmed, thrashing nervously, trying to accommodate the entry. "Its huge," she lamented straining with the girth.

""Relax Honey," I said without relenting... "I know its more than you expected."

She struggled, perspiration beading on her brow, rivulets running between the cleavage. Her knees turned outward, searching for relief, and her buttocks yielded, rearing up.

"Easy, easy," she pleaded, as I worked the tight little opening. Then it began slipping with fits and starts, slowly gaining headway. I tried to show restraint but couldn't stop. At last it came to length and our groins met in a wet and tangled clutch. She arched, looking up, bottom lip, quivering with emotion. Tiime seemed suspended, almost surreal, while I paused looking down into a vista of splayed legs and pubic hair.

"Don't stop," she cried helplessly, hoisted on the petard of my manhood. "Why are you stopping?"

"Move you hips," I answered. "It takes two to tango."

Her hands gripped my shoulders and mine guided her waist as we began the struggle to find harmony in our lovemaking. As I pushed in she lifted up, as I withdrew she responded. Gradually a tempo began to emerge. It wasn't exactly Dancing with the Stars but it was a beginning.

"Yes!" she cried out as I thrust deep. " Again," she simpered as I drew back and poised for another stroke. In and out, back and forth we moved with an unrelenting and frantic energy, heaving up and down, our stomachs slapping to the beat of Love's eternal drum.. As our passions peaked our exertions grew ever more acute. We raced on with an unbridled lust, until at last...came that sweet outpouring of relief.

"Jeeeze!", I cried out, thrashing inside her womb.

"Yes! Yes!!" she cried hysterically, arching in the throes....

We came as one, like a surf, racing over the beach and melting into the sand.


Afterward we wallowed in the moment, not wanting it to end, enjoying the warm aftermath. Our bodies, still fuzzed, clung together sticky with perspiration and the smell of spent sex. We embraced for delicious moments, clutching each other tight, wanting the moment to last forever.

Finally Beth sighed, "That was wonderful... Will I be seeing you again?”

“Sooner than you think,” I replied, feeling a fresh desire begin swelling the yoke of her vagina. Slowly the flaccid serpent stirred, stretched once more, and demonstrated its insatiable appetite.

"Oh my," she whispered, "I'm not sure I can do it again."

"Suppose we find out..." I answered.
© Copyright 2011 percy goodfellow (trebor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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