Almost One More Fling

As I replaced the phone receiver my expression would have surely showed the disappointment in hearing Joy’s decision to not have another fling. We have had many meetings by email and phone. At least four over the past two weeks. In those encounters we exchanged small intimacies, teasing by suggestion and exchange of personal questionnaires. I recall her asking me if I liked to perform sex with the lights on. Taken back by her forward remark and being quick on such inquires my reply was, “with lights out, so we would not draw down the battery.” During our warm and near passionate three weeks of correspondence, we had talked about and I had envisioned us planning a nooner one day. It could take place when her husband is away for the day. I would suggest I come by for her in my Volvo Station Wagon (1988 turbo) so we could attend the monthly AARP luncheon at the grange.

However, up until now our lust for each other had never really happened as we could never seem to arrange around our busy individual schedules. Finally, the monthly low calorie and fat luncheon at the lodge coincided with her husband’s planned fishing trip. We now were set for our first personal contact and I don’t know how she reacted during the slow hours that morning but I had an erection.

I would arrive in the turbo and she in turn would run from her house in a dress selected especially for me. It displays her wonderful calves and lower legs. And that was all. However, even in its baggy state it complimented her figure. Joy opens the door and obviously with the anticipation of things to come during the approaching noon hour, hurriedly seats herself and slides to the center. I look into her eyes and smile, and then I ask if she might like to move up to the front with me. The passion in her glance was saying yes but that we should probably hold off, as the grange was only three blocks away. The trip would be so emotional because I could gaze constantly into her eyes by using the rear view mirror. We pull up and notice all the handicap parking spots are occupied but find a nearby slot. I rush around and open the rear door and we stroll toward the front steps and enter the meeting room.

After picking up our paper plate and napkin enfolded utensils we would move down the selection of low cal delights and with full plates find a empty picnic table adorned with a lovely oil cloth cover, salt and pepper shakers, and a small dish of artificial sweetener. We sit side by side with our thighs nearly touching. I’m nearly finished but a call of nature replaces all erotic thoughts so I excuse myself to seek the men's room. In the course of trying various doors along the hallway I let myself into the janitorial storage room. A small light from the recharging hand vacuum cleaner casts a romantic glow on the mop washing sink and rows of mops. An overpowering aroma of oily dust and Lysol fills the nostrils. I think, could this be the place where Joy and I can finally consummate the deep passion we know might exist between us. In effect, to share our mutual lust that has been building over the past two weeks. To finally verify, by real touch, all those erotic areas that up until now were only words and suggestions. In short to fuck. My arousal is obvious, as well as a renewed urgency to find the restroom.

Having completed my mission, I approach the table where her radiance greets my return. An exchange of smiles tells it all and she explains how her pleasure has been thoroughly heightened by the low fat ranch salad dressing and then her hand moves over and caresses my fingers that were holding the napkin on my lap. I hurriedly finish my potato salad and cold cuts and fix my gaze into Joy’s lovely eyes. I lean toward her and almost touching whisper about the place I have found for us a place where we can share each other. Her smile says it all and she was certain to reply. "What?"

I explain about the luminescent charger, the clean smell of Lysol and the space that can be all ours. Her smile changes to a look of grave concern and she hurriedly excuses herself to find the restroom. I untangle myself from the bench and walk to the hallway and then think, “hey, why not?” I could open the door to the newfound closet and since I know she will pass right by there when leaving the ladies room, I will wait. I move inside and open the door a small way and then hear the flush, the heavy racking of the towel dispenser and finally she emerges, walking toward me. I whisper her name and as her startled glance fixes on my lurking face she notes my location and walks toward the door. I pull the door wide and as we enfold each other in an eager grip demonstrate the strength of the relationship. However, some of this was, in part, probably due to the fact that when stepping back while opening the door, I got my foot stuck in the mop bucket. Fortunately, she was able to stabilize my shaky situation with a firm grasp on my arm. We hug and I lift and position her on the counter. Our lips meet and the passion is overwhelming, surpassing even the Tidy Bowl smell in the container we toppled off of the sink area. Our hands now mutually explore those differences our respective genders are based on. I gently lift her blouse from its skirt confines and trace a path to the breasts while she unzips and kneads my trying-to-erect cock. Her breathing is heavy and she gathers her skirt above her pussy area thus exposing her lovely tri-layered selection of undergarments.

The door opens quickly and floods our area of romantic dimness with the fluorescent harshness of the hall. The Janitor smiles, Joy covers up and I go limp, all in about three seconds. However, it was wonderful. It was almost one more fling. Cruising home in the turbo, I mention the Bingo afternoon next month at the community center and if hubby is working perhaps she might want to place a few beans with me?

Thanks for the almost fling Joy.

Dieter with a smile