Close Encounters of An Erotic Kind

01

Shopping for Shoes

After my sophomore year in college I took two summer jobs to earn money for the coming school year. Weekdays I worked in a coffee shop during the busy morning hours, six to ten. From four to closing time at nine, I worked in an upscale shoe store on the nicest block in the area, a place that appealed to women who could afford the latest designs from Italy and Spain. In the middle of the day I usually read books assigned in my upper level literature course, "The American Novel in the Twentieth Century." The readings were engaging and the professor, who was also my advisor, arranged credit for me so long as I wrote a substantial paper before the start of the fall semester. I wanted to graduate early so this would help.

In both the coffee shop and the shoe store I enjoyed the opportunity to interact with attractive women. Some of them, especially in the shoe store where the pace was less hurried, seemed to enjoy looking back at me, flirting with a decent looking young man who obviously enjoyed the exchange. Overall it was a pleasant summer.

One of my tasks at the shoe store, as low man on the pole, was to turn off the lights and lock up the store just shortly after nine. One night, as I prepared for the end of my shift, an extremely gorgeous woman came in the door just a few minutes before closing time. I knew I had seen her there before. Surely I had not waited on her or I would have remembered her in more detail. In any case, as soon as she was inside the store she said to me, "I'm sorry to arrive so late but there is one shoe in the window that I very much would like to try on before you close. Can you help me with that? I'll show you." I followed her to the display area, enjoying watching her hips and legs move enticingly under her black wrap around dress. I thought perhaps she had stopped in for a few minutes while on her way to a late dinner in the fine restaurant around the corner. She pointed out the shoes that interested her. I noticed the gold wedding band on her left hand.

I asked her to seat herself in one of the fitting chairs. As I looked up at her I appreciated more fully how very beautiful she was, her face and neck, her hair, her wide and deep brown eyes. She wore small gold earrings and a very narrow gold necklace. I went to the back of the store to retrieve the shoes in the size that she gave me. When I returned I sat in front of her on a short fitting stool and asked her to give me her foot so that I could remove one of her shoes. As I did so it was tempting to sneak a look further up her lovely leg encased in a sheer black stocking. I resisted. I removed one of the shoes from its box. I looked again into her face; she was smiling at me, almost a smirk. She either was conveying her sense of my status in service to her, or perhaps testing my ability to resist appraising more fully her lovely feet and legs. As I slipped the new shoe onto her foot, placing my hand around her ankle to guide it, I was struck by the shapeliness of her ankle and calf. Exquisite was the word that popped into my head. "How does that look and feel," I asked?

"I like it," she said. "This shoe feels very nice on my foot." Then she lifted her leg as though to see the shoe on her foot more closely and she swung that leg outward and twisted it to give herself a better view from the side. In doing so, with her very short dress, she gave me a full view of the insides of both legs, all the way to her lovely bare pussy, up above the top of her stockings which were fastened to a black garter belt. I could not avert my eyes. Perhaps I sighed.

She asked me, "How do you think the shoes look on me? Perhaps it will help if you take off my other shoe and put the new one on my other foot so I can get a better look. As I again grasped her ankle I looked up at her, hoping that she might give me some signal of her wishes. Her only reaction was to swing that leg wider as well, clearly intending for me see even more clearly her sex spread wide, her pussy glistening. She held that pose for ten seconds or so. I was stunned and speechless.

"Do you like the way these shoes look on me?" she asked again.

"I have never seen a pair of shoes so perfectly suited to a woman. Very lovely. "

"I'm not certain," she said. "Perhaps I will return to try them on again. Would you help me again if I come in?"

"Certainly," I said. "Just ask for James."

"I will," she said. "I come to this street to shop every Thursday evening. I will plan to be here at just about this same time next week. I'm sure you will have other shoes I will want to try on. I promise to be a patient customer, James. You won't mind if I take my time, even if it is a bit past closing, will you James?"

"I will look forward to seeing you again."

"I know you will James. My name is Gretchen. And I will look forward to you seeing you again. You are a beautiful boy. Good night. Sweet dreams."

We repeated this act for the next two Thursdays. Gretchen arrived a few minutes before nine. She sat down in an area that could not be observed from outside the store. I assisted her as she tried on each different pair of shoes, all very expensive ones. Each time she looked at her watch and said to me. "James, I know know it is closing time. May I stay a while longer?" I turned the lights down in the front section of the store and returned to where she was seated. Each week she opened her legs for a longer time for my enjoyment and, I assumed, for hers as well. Each time she wore a different combination of stockings and garter belt. Nothing else under her skirt.

On her fourth Thursday visit she asked me, "James, how old are you?"

"I am twenty."

"I am thirty-seven, James, nearly twice your age. They say that men reach the height of their sexual capacity at around twenty while women do so in their mid-thirties. Have you heard that James?"

"I didn't know that. Thank you. That is a good thing to know."

"Do you enjoy showing shoes to me each week?"

"Very much. I look forward to it."

"I like it too," she said. "And do you like what I show you each week?"

"You know I do, Gretchen."

"Do you want more, James?"

"Whatever will please you will please me."

Her deep brown eyes stared directly into mine. Smiling, she leaned further back in the chair and pulled up her skirt to give me a better view. She was obviously aroused, her pussy moist. She moved her right hand to her slit and began to stroke herself, slowly, her eyes focused on my own which were devouring the raw sexuality of her performance.

"I like teasing you, James. You have been very patient with me, so I thought I should give you something more."

I watched as she inserted one finger, moving it in and out of her pussy, positioning her finger so that with each slide she was brushing her clit as well. She kept this up for several minutes enjoying her touches as well as my eyes on her. She began to breathe more deeply and then closed her eyes. I watched her hand move faster on her sex. She moaned as she shuddered with her orgasm. She opened her eyes and gazed contentedly directly into mine."

"Was that nice for you James? It was for me. Did you get hard from watching me touch myself like that?"

"Yes, I did."

"Was it difficult not to touch yourself, James?"

I told her it was.

"Next Thursday, if I do this for you again, will you touch yourself for me at the same time? I would like to see you doing that, James."

I nodded my head. She smiled at me as she smoothed her skirt and left the store.

The summer seemed to be flying by and too soon there were only two Thursdays left before I would need to leave for the fall semester.

The next week, I helped her try on another pair of shoes. When I turned down the lights this time she asked if we could move back to the storage area so that she could leave by a private door. We did that and I pointed out to her the rear exit. She sat down in a chair and asked me to sit in one directly opposite.

She unbuttoned her sweater and pulled it aside so that I could see her breasts. She wore no bra. "James, do you like seeing my breasts? I want to touch them and make my nipples hard for you." She looked into my eyes which I'm sure were bright with my lust. She used the thumb and forefinger on each hand to pull on her nipples, tweaking them as I stared. I had not see such prominent nipples before. Then she raised her skirt again and began to play with her pussy with her right hand. She smiled at me, enjoying the moment. I was not surprised when she asked, "Now James, take out your dick and show it to me. We can please ourselves and please each other."

This mutual masturbation was an entirely new experience for me, one I had never imagined. Her expression told me she enjoyed our watching one another, sharing our self-pleasure. After several minutes of this she said to me, "This is nice James. Go ahead and come when you need to. I will try to come with you."

I waited as long as I could. When I jacked up my speed she did the same with her fingering. One hand was on her pussy and the other cupped a breast. We consciously matched our rhythms and finished at almost the same instant. I tried to catch my cum but it was dripping from my hand and some was on the front of my shirt. After a minute of rest, Gretchen buttoned her sweater, lowered her skirt, and stepped toward me. She brought my hand to her mouth and licked the palm, tasting my ejaculate. She told me to open my mouth and she put her right fore-finger in my mouth. "Taste me, James." After I did, she turned and left by the back door.

On the last Thursday evening of summer when I turned the lights down in the front area of the store Gretchen immediately suggested we go to the the storage room again, asking, "James, can we continue as we were last week? I liked us sharing that intimacy." So we began again, sharing pleasure by pleasuring ourselves. She was entirely naked under her skirt this time. "I love seeing your penis, James. I want to feel it tonight. Would you like to have me tonight before we part, to fuck me, James? I would like to give that to you." I was not sure how she wanted this to happen so I waited.

She stood and walked toward the shelves to the left of the rear exit. She turned and faced me as she removed her blouse, letting me see her lovely full breasts and her firm nipples. She touched them again. "Sometime James, but not tonight, I will want you to suck my nipples for me. I feel a lot when a man does that. I think you will like it. Something to think about James."

Gretchen turned away from me. She stood facing the ladder we used for reaching the higher shelves. She dropped her skirt and leaned over placing her hands on the ladder. She spread her legs far apart. She looked magnificent. I understood now what the word statuesque was meant to convey. The muscles in her hips and legs looked powerful. She looked over her shoulder at me. "James, have you had sex with girls your age?"

"Only with two girlfriends," I answered. Telling the truth.

"But not with a woman. Only girls?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to fuck a woman, James? If you would, come and do it."

"No one could resist such and invitation, Gretchen. Your body is a miracle."

"Not a miracle, James. I work hard every day to keep it this way. My husband has high expectations for the way I look, James. I like to please him. He has done so much for me. But he doesn't own me. I am in charge of my sexual life."

I walked to her, leaned over to reach her breasts and touch her large nipples for the first time. At the same time I pushed my dick up into her pussy. It slid in easily. I noticed again the gold band on her left hand.

"This is for you, James, because you added rare pleasure to my summer. Go slow, wait if you can. Make this last as long as you can. I want you to enjoy seeing your cock going in and out of me. Keep that picture in your mind, James. I want you to remember how this looked and felt."

It was delicious to feel myself entering her hot and smooth cunt, the way she felt tight and slippery at the same time as I fucked her. Several times I felt her tighten herself around me to add to my pleasure. It was too much for me and too soon I began to lose control. I came in her with several strong jerks of my cock. I did not know what to say to her.

As I withdrew from her Gretchen turned and smiled. Her face was red, her whole body was glowing. At least that is how it seemed to me. She began to put on her skirt and blouse.

"James, I believe you enjoyed that. Will you be back here working next summer?"

"Probably in the area, but maybe not here. I can't know that now."

She handed me a small card, just her first name and a number. "Take this James. If you want to see me next summer, or even during any holiday when you are home, call the number and leave a message. Say, 'Gretchen, your shoes are ready!' and leave your phone number and a good time for me to call you. Perhaps I will have a special holiday present for you and you will have one for me."

I opened the door for her. She kissed me lightly on the cheek as she walked through the door. She turned down the narrow walk way and back to the street. I wondered if she could feel my cum dripping from her as she walked.

It was several years after this that I met my wife, a couple more before we were married and then still a few more before I told her the details of my erotic summer experience in the shoe store. Though she professes to believe me, I wonder if she does. I swear it happened just as I have described it here.

02

Our First Anniversary

As our first anniversary approached, my husband Jack was away in San Francisco handling negotiations on an important case for his law firm. During the two weeks he had been gone my painting was going very well. It often did while he was away. I needed new work to offer to the galleries in Cleveland, Chicago and New York that handled my paintings. Overall I was pleased with my art and with my life generally. Then Jack called me late Thursday night to tell me he would not be able to come home for our first anniversary on Sunday; negotiations were at a crucial stage and likely to continue through most of the next week. He hoped to be home in Cleveland by the next week end.

"Jack, I was so looking forward to being together on our first anniversary. It will be sad and lonely without you, sweetheart." He assured me he felt the same and would make it up to me as soon as we were together. He also reminded me that Saturday was not only our anniversary but also the day of the firm's annual picnic for its lawyers and staff and their families.

" Amber, I hope you will go. We have looked forward to this, especially to see some of the other young lawyers and their partners. Please go without me. You always enjoy being with some of these people and you will feel less lonely if you go. With all those young single lawyers around you won't need to feel you are the only one without a partner." I told Jack I would plan to go, that being with good company in a beautiful setting on the lake might help me not feel so alone.

On Sunday I drove east of the city to the lovely mansion on the lake where the company picnic was being held. I arrived late afternoon and noticed that families with children had already begun to leave after several hours of food, drink and games on the lawn. I was not much in the mood for children or games. I circulated for a half hour saying my polite hellos to the firm's partners and their spouses. Almost everyone inquired about Jack and commiserated with me on his absence. I did not tell any of them today was our first wedding anniversary.

After I filled a plate from the buffet table and picked up a gin and lemonade at the small bar, I made my way to where some of the people I knew best were sitting and enjoying the remains of the day. I sat down on a vacant chair, chatted first with a young lawyer and his wife who Jack and I knew well, and then turned to introduce myself to the man next to me, the only older man at the table. I knew that his name was Arthur Vickery, that he was a member of the firm, and that I had met him once previously. I also recalled what Jack had told me about him, that his younger and very beautiful wife had died suddenly about six months ago. Arthur looked to be between fifty and sixty, still very handsome, a bit subdued which was understandable. I assumed he would not remember me but to my surprise he said, "You are Jack Best's wife. I recall meeting you briefly at the picnic last year, a bit later in the summer I think. You were newlyweds if I recall correctly. Is Jack here? I haven't seen him."

I explained the circumstance of my being here alone and I did mention to him that today was our first anniversary. "We are no longer newlyweds," I said.

Arthur replied, "It must be disheartening to be apart for an anniversary, especially the very first one. Jack should have mentioned this; the firm should have known and sent someone else to San Francisco or we should have flown him home, even for just a day, at our expense." I thanked him for his sympathy and I wondered why Jack had not tried harder to be with me. Jack is very ambitious and hopes to rise quickly in the firm. But still. Our first anniversary.

Arthur and I began to talk, very comfortably. I liked him almost immediately as we discovered several interests that we shared: a love of the novels of Anthony Trollope and the movies of Alfred Hitchcock, a high regard for the several female members of the Supreme Court, and a special affection for homemade pecan pie. We traded opinions about all of these and then other topics at random. I began to feel I was spending too much time with Arthur and slighting friends and other acquaintances but I was feeling lonely for my husband, maybe slightly resentful that he had not worked some magic way to be with me on this first anniversary, and I was enjoying getting to know Arthur Vickery. I rationalized that Arthur's awareness of Jack's dedication would also be useful to him in the firm.

As the day came to an end, as a gesture toward those who wanted to stay longer, the firm had arranged for a quartet to continue to play as the sun began to go down over the lake. Several older husbands and wives and a larger number of the younger lawyers and their girlfriends or boyfriends remained behind for dancing and another round of drinks. By this time I had had several glasses of gin and lemonade and was floating a bit when Arthur asked me to dance with him. He was a very good dancer and I felt relaxed and secure in his arms. I told him after a few dances that I thought I should sit for awhile and maybe have a cup of coffee to make certain I was prepared to drive home.

"I know just the place for you to clear your head, Amber, a short walk to a bench under a shady tree, a great spot to watch the sun go all the way down and to feel the evening breeze come in off the water. I will step inside to get a cup of coffee for you and then we can enjoy the view until you feel ready to leave."

This made sense to me and with my coffee in hand we followed a winding path along one side of the property through trees and shrubs to a quiet place with a lovely view out over the water. We sat on the bench there and remained quiet for some minutes. Arthur told me again that he was sorry that Jack and I could not be together here on our anniversary. He said, "I know what it is to be alone, away from the person you love best in all the world."

I said, "Arthur, I know about your wife, your tragedy; you must be terribly lonely. Jack being away can't compare to what you must feel every day."

Arthur began to talk of marriage, of his marriage, of its passions and pleasures, its ups and downs, it's comforts and even of its risks. He said couples need always to celebrate the high points and, for the downs, to have patience, to realize that your love will bring you back together if you wait on it. "You need to recognize its importance, to take nothing for granted, to work for it every day. I know these things now better than I did before I lost Felice. No problem you and Jack will face will be impossible except the one that I have experienced, an irredeemable separation."