A Chance Encounter

NOTE: I'm back. Sorry for the absence. I hope you like something new. XO

*****

"Can I squeeze past?" someone asked Jack. He looked up from his conversation at the strangers pushing past, making their ways to the other side of the crowded living room. Around him, dozens of different conversations crossed over each other, as guests chatted about this and that; they talked about their summers, the vacations they'd taken, the plans for winter, and whatever else was going on.

Jack was sitting on a piano bench, which he was sharing with his friend Louis, a cohost. This busy party was technically for Louis' younger sister Amy, who had graduated from high school a few months ago, and was now only weeks away from leaving for her first year of college. Louis' parents were always eager to host, proud to flaunt their wealth with their unnecessarily large home, so he was encouraged to invite all his friends. That's how Jack ended up on the bench, in a large circle with close to a dozen other people his age who were all home for the summer, about to return to their senior year of college, technically celebrating a girl they barely knew.

The conversation at hand was boring him, but Jack didn't care quite enough to change the subject. Instead, he just half-listened to one young woman talk about a run-in she'd had with an old teacher at a grocery store, as others laughed and reminisced about high school. Jack found himself instead scoping out the rest of the living room. Small groups of handfuls of guests had pooled in different corners, drinks in hands. Through the entryway, he could see into the kitchen, where another group of guests had congregated around the matriarch, Louis' mother Kim. Standing next to her was a woman Jack didn't recognize, and she was looking back at him, one eyebrow raised. They locked eyes, and he awkwardly tried to shoot a polite smile to the woman, but she didn't react. She just looked back at him. After another moment, she looked away.

At first, Jack felt himself blushing, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. He tried to reason that embarrassment away, telling himself that, if anything, she was the one caught looking at him. He'd never seen this woman before, so why was she eyeing him up like that, and why didn't she at least shoot him a courtesy smile back?

These questions tugged at him as Jack realized he was still looking at this mystery woman. She was leaning against an expensive granite counter, wearing white pants and what Jack thought might be a very soft, thin sweater, with open toe shoes, completing an outfit that was perfect for the late-summer-early-fall weather they'd been getting lately. Her dark brown hair was short, falling just above her shoulders in loose curls, like she got it cut regularly to keep it at that length; everything about her seemed to scream money to Jack. Her makeup was immaculate, just barely noticeable. Her complexion was tanned, maybe artificially but not overdone, with a subtle red lip color that drew in his eyes as she briefly smirked at something in her conversation. Plus, she was wearing what looked to Jack like a gold tennis bracelet that glinted in the indoor light, even from across two rooms.

Jack was admiring her body, how she filled out her sweater well, and how curvy and natural she looked standing next to Louis' mother, who was thin as a rail thanks to the personal trainer she worked out with constantly, sometimes twice a day. As his eyes trailed down to the woman's legs, they stepped forward as she walked out of the kitchen, out of view, towards the other end of the house. Right before she slipped out of sight, Jack was sure she'd shot another glance towards him.

Now, with no distraction across the room he was back in the conversation in front of him, but the only way he'd be paying attention to his peers' discussion about postgrad decisions was if that woman had been part of it. Instead, he found himself lost in thought, wondering why she'd been staring him down until he caught her, and why she'd stolen another look before leaving the kitchen. She was older, definitely one of Louis' mom's friends, probably from a rich family, based on how she held herself. But, despite all of that, Jack was sure he'd caught her checking him out, twice now. He felt his blood rushing from his face, lower, just the potential of such an attractive woman being attracted to him caused him to feel a hint of swelling in his lap.

As he tried to readjust his sitting position in case of anything obvious, suddenly she rounded the corner from the kitchen and walked into the living room, squeezing past Amy and some of her friends, joining a conversation with a mixed group of adults discussing their coworkers. She didn't speak, only listened and smiled, barely sipping on her drink. Jack was transfixed by her other hand, tucked into her back pocket, perfectly cupping half of her round rear end. He imagined what it'd be like if it was his hand, what it'd be like if he was the one doing the cupping.

His eyes followed her hand as it slipped out of her pocket, gliding up to her face where she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and Jack realized she was once again looking right at him. He felt himself blush immediately, knowing that she must've caught him. Still, he didn't break eye contact, and neither did she. He could feel himself try to send a kind smile her way, but she only reciprocated by lifting one eyebrow, unimpressed, bringing her drink to her lips and taking a small sip. Then, she broke contact, glancing to her right briefly before returning her gaze. She repeated the glance again, and Jack looked to his left, following her gaze to see the door to one of the several empty bathrooms in the expansive home. He looked back to meet her eyes, and he saw her paint the quickest smirk across her lips before returning her face to her resting, unimpressed look he'd gotten used to. He knew what she was hinting at.

Jack didn't need it spelled out for him. And he didn't want to miss an opportunity. He wordlessly excused himself from his group, set his drink down absentmindedly on an end table, and made a beeline for the bathroom. Before he stepped inside and shut the door, he tried to lock eyes with the woman, only for her to be completely facing away from him.

The door clicked and he turned on the light, washing the room in a yellow-white glow. The loud party just feet away was muffled impressively, and Jack realized he could hear himself think for the first time since arriving at the bustling celebration. Despite the large home, this bathroom was surprisingly cramped, and Jack felt claustrophobic as he looked at himself in the mirror, suddenly embarrassed that he'd completely misread the situation. That woman had probably just been looking around the room randomly, and Jack was reading far too much into it. He was young and single and had a lot of free time this past summer, so he was desperate for attention, especially from an attractive older woman; now he was standing alone in a bathroom, sure he'd imagined any suggestive looks he thought he'd received.

But then the door opened, and Jack's head went empty as that mystery woman slipped inside, closing the door behind her, locking it with a quick click.

Neither of them spoke for a moment as they both took in the scenes before them. The woman was looking at a young man half her age, with a toned body and scruffy, short blonde hair; her eyes were mostly drawn to the noticeable bulge in his pants. Jack, standing across from her, felt his bulge growing as he looked at the woman across from him, even more attractive up close, who had just snuck into a secluded room with him.

He'd hooked up with strangers at parties in college, but something about this was different. Jack felt like there was more to this, because she was different. This woman, this adult who was probably his mother's age, had cornered him in the bathroom; she wasn't some college girl dancing with him at a dimly lit frat party. It was the middle of the afternoon, he was at his friend's house, and she hadn't said a word to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but she immediately cut him off, and he heard her voice for the first time. It was steady and quick.

"Drop your pants."

It was a simple command, impossible for Jack to misunderstand, and he instantly complied. Wordlessly, he undid his belt in the almost-too-quiet bathroom, his zipper ripping through the silence as he tucked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pausing for just a moment, before slipping his bottoms down to his knees. His growing cock flopped out, bouncing in front of him, and he saw the woman smile at the sight.

He took a step towards her, and she matched him, the two meeting in the middle. She reached out and traced one finger down his length, which elicited a sharp inhale from Jack. She looked into his eyes as she grabbed a handful of his member, giving it a soft squeeze in her tender hand, feeling it throb slightly as it finished hardening in her palm. He was thick in her hand as she wrapped her fingers around him, looking down when she stroked him softly.

Jack steadied himself against a towel rack, and the woman reached over to the sink, taking a pump of lotion from the bottle next to the soap on the counter. The scent of the lavender cream filled the tight room as she wrapped her hand back around the young man's shaft, beginning to stroke with one hand, using the lotion as a scented lubricant. Jack was in heaven, letting out a soft groan as he rested most of his weight against the wall behind him.

"Oh my god," was all he could mutter under his breath as she went to work, dropping to her knees, cozying up to his right leg as she pumped back and forth on his cock. It throbbed in her hand as she rhythmically stroked, tip to base, tip to base, not slowing down as Jack grunted in bliss. The diamonds set into the expensive bracelet on her wrist glittered in the yellow light.

Looking down, Jack was mesmerized by the woman at his side, her fist wrapped around his hard cock, pumping with fervor. He glanced from her hand to her bosom, getting a splendid view down her shirt, of her ample cleavage, her supple breasts jiggling softly in her bra. The sight of this beautiful woman's mature body brought him close to the edge, and he balled up fists as he tried to last longer. As he tensed, she managed to coax out a thick drip of precum onto the tile floor.

As he tensed in her hand, trying to hold himself back, she watched his heavy balls tighten as she stroked. Her free hand reached up and cupped his balls, feeling how full they were. She gently traced her fingers around them, and Jack couldn't help but stifle another groan, biting his lip to stop from being too loud as this woman pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

It was the middle of the day. He was at his friend's house. There were dozens upon dozens of unaware people only feet away. None of that mattered to Jack, as a woman he'd never met stroked his thick cock faster and faster, exhaling hot breath onto it as she went, while her other hand teasingly tugged on his balls. He was at his limit, and could barely hold himself upright as she pumped, back and forth, back and forth, tip to base, tip to base, her mature hands working faster and faster.

And he didn't even know her name.

It was all too much. He couldn't hold back. He felt his balls tighten in her hand, and his cockhead twitched violently as he struggled for words.

"I—I'm gonna—" Jack couldn't even finish the warning before bucking forward, thrusting into her fist as he shot a thick rope of cum into the sink in front of them. The woman kept stroking, and Jack blew rope after rope of hot cum, holding himself up with a white-knuckle grip on the towel rack beside him. He bit his lip to hold back a loud groan as the woman continued to stroke his pulsating cock, which splashed a rope of cum across the floor, which landed with a messy splatter. Still, she didn't let up her rhythmic stroking, milking the last few drops of cum left in the young man out onto the sink and floor as he shuddered. Finally, he was completely spent, and she dropped his fat, spent cock, which flopped against his thigh.

For a moment, no one spoke as Jack tried to catch his breath. He'd gotten handjobs before. At this point, they seemed so amateur, so he wasn't expecting that something so simple would practically bring him to his knees in an almost embarrassingly short amount of time. He was panting.

"Holy..." was all he could muster. Nothing to punctuate it. Just the first half of an exclamation. He was breathing too hard, he was too distracted to generate a clear thought. He watched as the woman who'd just rocked his world rose to her feet. She faced away from him as she washed her hands, and Jack was almost too exhausted to notice her shapely rear end as she bent for the faucet. She rinsed off her hand in the cum-splattered sink and dried it on the small hand towel next to the mirror.

"Clean yourself up." Then she unlocked the door, cracked it open, and slipped out, shutting it behind her. Jack was speechless. Again.

A few minutes later, Jack exited the bathroom. It was cleaned up, looking like it had when he first entered it minutes before, and he was put together, only looking a little flustered than he had going in. He glanced around the crowded living room, but didn't see the woman anywhere. As he walked back to his seat at the piano bench, he looked into the kitchen, and didn't see her there either. He sat down next to Louis, and it seemed no one even noticed he'd left. The conversation had moved on, and now the group was comparing their worst professors.

Jack couldn't care less. He leaned over to Louis, who was intently listening to someone describe their distracted history professor.

"Hey man, who was that, um," Jack was working out how to ask casually.

"What's up?" Louis was half-listening.

"There are a few people here I don't recognize. Who's that lady in the purple top?" It wasn't the most smooth he'd ever been, but Jack needed to know.

"Purple top?" Louis repeated back, taking a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, I think she was talking with your mom for a while earlier." Jack feigned diffidence.

"Oh, that's Carla. She moved in across the street a few months ago. I think she actually just left. Did you meet her?"

"Uh, yeah, we ran into each other." Jack exhaled hard. Louis took another sip of his beer and rejoined the group conversation. Jack didn't. He wondered if he'd ever see Carla again.