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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Love / Romance / Dating
- Published: 03/09/2019
EngineerBorn 1950, F, from Renton, United States
I continued to work swing shift after Edward left, was accepted at work as one of the "girls", enjoyed their company but remained aloof. In truth, I was not like them even though I tried to be so. The twelve years of parochial school left their indelible mark.
I also yearned for the part of me lost when Edward left, the attention of my prince. Each day I dressed, put on makeup, dabbed on perfume, I did so for his absent approval. He too left an indelible mark. I remained his Asian doll.
Still it was not enough. I missed his smile, voice, caress and sophistication. That’s what I told myself. In truth, I missed the affair’s forbidden excitement. No longer were noon times the highlight of my day. Friday nights slipped by uneventful.
He also left me with a conflicting trinity, my mind, ration thoughts, God the father, my heart, my loving family, Jesus Christ and Vixen my sexual Un-Holy Spirit. Suppressed by mind and heart Vixen struggled to break free. She yearned Edward's stroking and meowed.
You’re neglecting me! Don’t forget me! Please, please me! I want it now!
Like the Siamese cats in the Disney movie, Lady and the Tramp she hummed the lyrics twisted to:
I am horny if you please
I am horny if you don't please
There is no finer Vixen than I am
If I like, I let you pet me quite a while
Meow, meow, Vixen, wants it now, now.
After almost a year of marriage fidelity I would be driving and she would suddenly meow and say she wanted an affair, now, now. My breasts would flush in agreement. My mind and heart overruled and Vixen sulked. Soon, however, they were all humming the ditty.
We are horny if you please
We are horny if you don't please
There are no finer than we
If we like we let you pet us quite a while
Meow, meow we want it now, now.
While aligning at work the ditty would pop up with Edward’s image. In the spring of 1978, a year after he walked on the plane and out of my life, an engineer walked in. He was fixing equipment at Nortec on contract. Vixen didn’t flirt for his attention, she didn’t even notice him. Instead he boldly approached while I was bent over aligning and asked.
“Hi good looking, How, about having lunch together in the cafeteria at break time.”
Looking up from my microscope and refocusing, I scanned him over. His alignment pleased me.
“I don’t eat cafeteria food. I bring my lunch. Cafeteria food’s bad.”
“I know but I didn’t bring lunch. You can sit with me while you eat yours. I’m just asking for us to sit together.”
“You’re pushy. I’m aligning now. Pick a seat and when I go to lunch I’ll decide if I want to sit with you.”
When I carried my lunch bag to the cafeteria he was sitting alone at a table in a far corner. I decided to sit with him briefly and then go to my girl’s table. I sat across from him, opened my plastic lunch container and nibbled on the chicken I brought but didn’t look at him. He finally asked.
"Cat got your tongue? It’s okay. I’m glad you decided to sit with me. What’s your name?
I looked up.
“Cobra, are you venomous?”
“Careful, I might bite you.”
My tongue darted out in warning.
“How about you and me, we go on a date? Let me see if I can charm you."
"So am I".
"Í don't see a ring".
"Don't wear one but I'm married."
He was ten years older, good looking but bald on top and a bit on the short side, say five feet nine inches. I figured Italian. He had a nice voice and smelled good. He was sure of himself in demeanor, an Alpha male. I looked directly at him.
"Are you good enough to date me?"
He didn’t flinch or look away but smiled, self-assured.
"I'm good, yes, very good. If you go on a date with me then you will know I’m good."
I knew the best response was to mock him. I was never, ever, going to be his F and F. I wanted a prince Edward, an Omega.
"Who are you and what do you do here?"
"I'm self-employed. I’m an electrical engineer working on contract. Companies contract my company me when equipment breaks down. I fix it. You can call me Enrico."
I looked directly at him, again darted out my tongue for his attention.
"You can call me Cobra. You may be good but I've never dated a Mexican electrician. My husband’s an engineer."
Insulted he replied,
"I'm an electrical engineer, not an electrician and I am Italian not Mexican."
Knowing Italians tended to look down on both I retorted.
"Well you look Mexican or maybe Portuguese."
He smiled instead of protesting. He realized I was teasing.
"Where would you take me on your date?"
"Where ever you like."
"I like shopping, my husband never takes me."
"I’ll take you shopping".
"You need to be a real engineer to afford what I like. You need a good credit card. I like nice things."
Laughing at my brashness he replied.
"I like to be treated nice by girls I buy nice things for."
"Get me perfume so I can smell good for you."
"That's for you to decide. I need to know if you are as good as you claim. Are you Cheap Charlie cologne or Good time Charlie perfume?"
"I'm Good Time Charlie Perfume, you'll see."
Finished munching my chicken I replied.
"You better go fix the equipment or they’ll contract another to do it."
I got up and went to the girls table. They had been watching from afar and began their innuendos and teasing as I sat down.
The next lunch shift, he was sitting at the same table with a wrapped little box. I opened it. It was Shalimar, a half ounce.
Setting it on the table I glibly replied.
"A half ounce, you’re only good for half a date?"
He stared, stunned with no cocky smile. He took the package and wrapping, put them in his coat pocket and left without a word. It didn’t matter if we went out or not. If we did it was going to be on my terms. That was what my mind said but Vixen said a half ounce was fine.
The next lunch he had an ounce bottle, boxed but unwrapped as if to say he too was indifferent.
I opened the box, then the bottle and applied dabs behind my ears and on my wrists. After a few moments to merge with my scent I placed one wrist under his nose.
It was our first contact. He lost his indifference. I lifted my hair on one side and let him put his face to the nape of my neck and sniff. I was wearing the dangling gold and pearl earrings of Edward yore. He attempted to kiss my neck but I pulled back and told him.
"We're not on a date yet."
Tired of my banter he replied.
"Are we going out or not?"
"I would if I had something to wear."
"What, a nightie"?
"I need a sexy dress and shoes to be nice to a man on a date."
I wrote my sizes on a napkin to let him know I was serious. He was upset as if I was making him a fool. I got up, left to the girl’s table but turned around on leaving, smiled as a flirt and said.
"Make sure you don't get half a dress and one shoe."
"It better not be half a date."
"I don't do half dates."
The next shift, Thursday, he wasn’t there. I assumed his interest had waned. Friday, however, he showed up for my lunch break and explained he was working at another facility.
"I got you a dress and shoes in my car, you want to see them?"
"Get them and I will try them on in the ladies’ room. If they look good I will let you see me wear them."
I wasn’t going to degrade myself rushing to his car as if I was a cheap F and F. He came back with an Emporium bag and handed it to me. I didn’t look inside but went to the ladies’ room and examined them. The blue with white embroider dress quality was okay but the shoes weren’t what I would pick for the dress. Still, together they made their statement.
He wanted to sex things up. I put them on. The dress hem was three inches above my knees. The three-inch heels pushed me forward. I put the dress and shoes I wore to work in the bag in my locker.
With my smock over my new dress, I strode back to his isolated table. Walking across the cafeteria I crossed foot steps to provide emphasis of the high heels. Their clicking on the floor raised the heads of the girls at my regular table.
At his table he stared down at my feet in the shoes he selected and smiled.
"How’d you like the dress."
I lifted my smock as if to show the dress but pinched the dress as well so it rose with the smock. He briefly saw my panties.
I dropped the smock, bent over and crossed my arms as if embarrassed.
"The dress looks great on you. You promised a date."
"Meet me Sunday, ten in in the morning, at the Stanford Mall fountain."
"Not more shopping?"
"I said I liked shopping but my husband never takes me."
I got up, took a few steps with heels clicking to go back to work, stopped and turned back to him. He obviously had been watching my posterior sway. I opened the front of the smock so he could see the dress then left with him smiling at the table.
The girls quizzed me but I told them I was just teasing and wasn’t interested.
“He’s a joke. If you girls want him he’s yours. You can have the shoes too.”
The next morning, I showed the dress and shoes to hubby. He wanted to know what they cost but I told him not to worry they were a special deal. I put them on and with the scent of Shalimar paraded before him. He became aroused, lifted the short hem and took me, shoes still on.
Afterwards I carefully hung the dress in the closet and put the shoes underneath, happy with my new outfit. Sunday morning, I postponed our family BBQ, arrived at the Mall fountain half an hour early, went to the second level of a woman's store and found a spot to observe the fountain. I dawdled among the racks and peeked out now and then until he showed up, ten minutes early. He eagerly scanned the shopping throngs. He looked skeptical as he glanced about for me as if he might be making a fool of himself. I enjoyed spying on him.
When he looked the other way I left the store, waited a few minutes then strolled back five minutes late. I smiled recognition when he spotted me. He smiled seeing me in the blue mini dress and shoes he bought.
I led him to the bistro where I first had tea with Edward. He ordered coffee and me tea in its little silver kettle. He loaded sugar and cream in his cup as he informed me in detail he didn't drink tea. I told him he needed to expand his taste and coffee like whiskey is best neat.
To keep his attention, I kept tugging my short dress hem down with my right hand which wore Edward's sapphire ring, tapped the heel of one shoe on the tile floor and swayed close to him when refilling my cup so he could smell his Shalimar. I held my tea cup in my left hand with my wedding ring emphasized. By his glances I could tell the invasion of another man's territory excited him. It all kept him focused while he pretended to be aloof. His pretense failed. My guppy was excited.
He was also nervous, nervous of being seen with me in public with my mini dress. He had his own domestic turf issues and glanced about now and then to see if we were being observed by the esplanade shoppers. I suspected he had been caught before by his wife. Once my tea was finished I swung toward him, got off the stool, gave him a short skirt panty flash and informed him.
"I need to get a few small things before our date."
"I am not buying jewelry."
"Of course not, I'm married and don't want your jewelry. You’re not important enough."
He flushed but didn’t reply, his relief on the no jewelry agenda overcame his desire to snap back. I led him into the Emporium Department Store at one end of the Mall. My skirt and heels attracted the attention of others. He kept a nervous distance and acted as if he might walk away but followed.
We rode the escalator to the second floor. He kept one step below me while he glanced about trying to figure my agenda and what he might get stuck buying. He glanced furtively at my legs. He loosened up when I entered the lingerie section.
I went to the bras and flipped through the racks while he stood back milling around as if he wasn't really with me. I went to him and told him.
"Do you see anything you want me to wear? My size is 34-B".
A sales lady came but I shooed her away. He was wandering toward sleep ware to escape when I called him back to examine a bra. It was an expensive one of satin and lace. I held it up to my breast. He nodded acquiesce and I moved to the panties and held different pairs in front for him to choose from. He selected a nylon bikini with lace. I placed them together on a little table to see if they matched. They did.
He was sheepish when given them to carry. He was thinking what next? I knew what. I picked up a garter belt and sheer nylons and announced.
"I’m done. I got what I need for our date, let's go."
With him holding the bra, panty, garter belt and nylons I steered him to the cashier to pay. He pulled out his credit card, thought better and paid with cash. On the escalator ride down, carrying the bag, he asked.
"I’m going to see you wear these?"
Instead, not responding, I motioned him to follow to the Mall parking lot. Out of the Mall he walked closer. I walked briskly to my car, now a 914 Porsche, not a real Porsche but one at least with the logo.
He knew it was mine having seen me drive it at work. Its bucket seats rode low to the ground. I pulled open the door and sat down with my legs outside, the mini skirt pulled up high on my thighs. I let him leer and parted my knees a little as I took the package then swung my legs in, shut the door and rolled down the window.
He put his right hand on the door as if to restrain the car from escaping and asked again.
“Am I going to see you wear them?”
"Tonight, at eight, I’ll meet you at the San Jose Airport Holiday Inn lounge. Get a room. If you behave, I’ll model for you."
"Are you going to model wearing what's in the bag?"
"Why do you think I selected them. Do they look like they’re for a half date?"
I started the car, sped off shifting gears and looked back in the rear-view mirror. He stood staring at my receding car. I smiled to my mirror. My guppy would come fluttering his tail. On the way home, I stopped at Payless drug store and went through the embarrassment of purchasing condoms.
Home by noon, I changed clothes, stashed my new acquisitions, hung the dress in the bathroom to air out and Hubby and I took the kids to our parents for our weekly BBQ. As we drove over, I thought how after Edward, hubby no longer brought the subject of swinging up but suspected he still wanted to do it. Instead he was swinging with porno video tapes.
Back from the BBQ by 6 PM, the kids in the den watching TV I dropped my canard bomb. I told hubby I got a call earlier and had to rush to a work meeting to learn how to operate a new alignment machine. I didn’t ask if it was okay but simply said I had to go. Initially I was going to use the shopping ruse but decided the risk of his insisting on coming along with the kids was too great.
He was inquisitive but I explained work ran twenty-four/seven, Sunday evenings were one of the few times things slowed, the meeting was only a couple hours, and the engineer could only meet us alignment girls tonight. I’d be gone only a couple of hours. I didn’t want to set a specific time which might bring back memories of my first date with Edward. It was best to stick to a couple hours as if grocery shopping.
He stayed in the bedroom while I got ready and was shocked when I came out of the bathroom wearing the garter belt and nylons, attire I’d never wore before. He noticed the new bra and panties too. Before he inquired about them I said.
“Do you like my new undies I got for you? Don’t get too turned on until I get back.”
While putting on makeup, he grilled me who the engineer was. Figuring it best to lie with partial truth and knowing a first name is near impossible to trace, I answered.
"Some nerd named Enrico, Mr. Enrico as he insists. A bald Italian guy, pushy too, but I don’t know much about him. I’ll tell you more when I get back."
He attempted an advance as I got up from my makeup desk but I told him.
“Wait, wait, I’m already late. The meeting will be over in a couple of hours.”
I slipped into the dress and heels and asked him to zip up the back. After zipping me up he pressed my buttocks to him and attempted to lift the dress hem. I pushed him away and said again I was late and told he could have it when I got back, went to the den and kissed the kids. They liked the smell of Shalimar.
Standing before the empty space, where once there was a fish tank I thought of my new male guppy while putting on lip stick using my purse mirror. I also kept one eye on hubby flashing his tail. I pouted my red lips, rubbed them together to even out the color, let guppy hubby, cheek peck kiss and left at 7:30.
Out of the driveway and around the corner, I remembered my Desoto, its turning the corner away from home visibility, the rush of freedom felt. After a year, young once more, Vixen in control, life was exciting again.
It was a half hour drive to the San Jose Airport, Holiday Inn. Back then it was a four-story structure, subsequently demolished and rebuilt as a mid hi-rise. I’d discovered its potential for romantic rendezvouses accidentally after Edward left.
Needing to use a restroom when driving nearby, it seemed a better option than an untidy service station. Its entrance driveway led to an enclosed parking lot, screened from street view by the surrounding hotel, restaurant and lounge. At the confluence of the Bayshore and Nimitz freeways, it provided convenience and anonymity. Parked my car was concealed from North First Street the only street frontage. Proximity to San Jose’s Airport meant most guests were from afar.
Subconsciously on the outlook for tryst spots after Edward, I realized its potential as I peed. If seen by someone known, entering or exiting the driveway, the need to use its restroom provided a plausible alibi. Friends and neighbors used San Francisco Airport, not San Jose’s. The only exposure risks were recognition on the elevator or walking a corridor to a room. The odds against that were excellent. An alibi was unlikely ever to be needed unless I ran into someone who also needed one, in which case we would both pretend not to see one another. The hotel was perfect for meeting Enrico.
My observation of its affair potential while using its lobby restroom reflected suppressed libidinousness. My subconscious knew what I didn’t. I missed the excitement of illicit, subterfuge, sex.
I stopped a couple blocks distant to time my arrival five minutes late. Just after eight, I pulled in, parked near the entrance, swung my legs out of the car door together, walked into the front lobby and to the lounge.
He sat in a secluded booth which could observe those coming and going. I sat opposite him, smiled but said nothing, not even hi. He was happy I wore his dress and shoes. His first comment was.
"What else that I bought you are you wearing?"
Stone faced, I replied.
"You didn’t buy me anything, they’re gifts."
Instead of retorting, he peeked under the table, put his hand on my knee and tried to stroke the nylon. I pushed his hand away.
"A gentleman waits until served."
Rising back up to face me, he asked.
"Do you think I'm a gentleman?"
"No, I think you’re crude. You need polish."
The waitress came. I ordered a glass of white wine and he a beer which he drank out of the bottle. He stared at me intently, obviously aroused, a guppy flashing his tail colors as he asked.
"Why do you think I'm crude?"
"You drink your beer out of the bottle with a glass sitting in front of you. If you had polish you’d take your time to pour it in the glass, enjoy watching it foam up and smell the beer as part of its taste when you drink. You need to develop class."
"What about you? I want to see your class."
We bantered until my wine was nearly gone. He was getting ready to make his move but I took the last sip, looked at him through the raised empty glass, glanced at my watch, got up and said.
It was 8:30. Before he could ask time for what, I walked swiftly to the lobby, not indicating if I was staying or leaving, He was left delayed paying the bill. In the center of the lobby I stopped, stood between the elevators and the exit, turned and looked back at him. He fumbled in his wallet, paid cash, left without waiting for change and walked quickly towards me, perplexed, not knowing if to get angry over my quick departure or smile at my hurry to model.
When he caught up, I strode to the elevators, pushed the up button and the door of one opened immediately, as if to say, no more delays. I entered.
He rushed in behind, pushed three and we stared at each other as the car rose to the third floor. My perfume and his after-shave commingled as it rose. He looked at my hand with wedding ring as the door beeped opened. I wore a bracelet with little bells. I let him hold my hand as he led me down the corridor.
Silent, except for the tinkle of the bracelet’s bells, he stopped at room 314, took out his key, opened the door, and looked at me, unsure I would cross the threshold. Vixen meowed he needn't worry. I boldly stepped in.
In the room, a dozen red roses sat on a table with a bottle of Champagne. Next to them was a card.
My guppy wanted a class act. I surveyed the room without hesitation unlike entering Edward's apartment on our first night together. The curtains were drawn. Satisfied everything was suitable I bent over to admire the roses. The rear of my dress hem rose as I bent down. He got the first glimpse of my class act.
Ignoring the champagne and card, I waltzed to the bed, pulled all the covers off, led him by the hand and sat him on its edge. With the lights on, I undressed him, shirt, shoes and pants, hanging the shirt on a chair, folding the pants and putting them on the seat and placing the shoes underneath.
I moved deliberately to be back home by ten. He tried to reach over and pull me closer. I pushed him away and told him if he didn’t behave he wouldn’t see me model. I had him take off his socks and throw them by the shoes. I pulled his V-neck T shirt over his head and let the breast area of my dress caress his face. Removal of his T shirt revealed a hairy chest to offset his baldness. He was muscular trim but the beginning of a beer belly was evident.
Pushing him back on the bed, I bent down, and pulled off his jockey shorts and tossed them and his T shirt next to the socks. My hair caressed his nakedness doing so. He sat up, erect, while I stood before him, mini dressed.
Exposed, he was vulnerable even though his intention was of my being his next conquest. I stared but made no comment. Erect it was the largest I’d seen but I’d only seen two. My husband's and Edward's were in the six and a half to seven-inch category. Enrico’s was definitely a circumcised eight.
He reached for me but I pulled back and told him.
“Sit still and wait. If you are a good doggy your bone will get its treat.”
“When are you going to undress and model?”
I looked directly at him and said.
“I want to make sure you are paying attention before I model. Are you ready to see me model? “
His eight-inch rose a bit more in rapt attention, his reply. I turned around and told him to pull down the dress zipper my husband recently pulled up. Un-zipped I then turned to face him, slid the dress past my shoulders and let it fall around my shoes. Hushed he stared at the panty, garter belt, nylons, and the satin bra, his “gifts”. He inched to eight plus.
I revealed what Edward taught me about male anatomy. Teased to the brink sufficiently, I stood up. All his doubts were gone. There was no banter, wise cracks or resistance, only anticipation.
He wasn't thinking about the price of perfume, dress, shoes or lingerie now.
"Okay cowboy I am ready to ride. We’re going to see how this bronco bucks and once broken in, gallops."
My bronco wanted out of the chute. I whispered to be a good horsey, follow directions and stay still until I told him to buck.
With my high heel spurs tucked under his ankles, I directed his hands to my buttocks. Ready to ride I exclaimed, chute’s open! Let’s see if you can buck me off the saddle!”
Soon his spastic bucking broke to a galloping rhythm as he exclaimed repeatedly, "No way!"
I replied, “Whoa! Who, cowboy whoa!"
I had a great ride, hopped off, laid next to him and kicked off my shoes.
After we stopped perspiring and our sweat had evaporated or been absorbed by the sheets we bantered.
I'd scratched his back with my nails to mark him for his wife to see if she looked.
Spent, he looked at me perplexed as we laid apart. I think he was worried how his back looked. I asked.
“Are you an Italian lover?”
“Yes, yes, how do you like Italian?”
“You got a big penis but a cold heart, you’re not real Italian."
“No, no, I’m Italian; my heart’s Italian.”
“Your heart’s ice cold. You’re Italian, cold heart, super penis, cold heart, Italian like Spumoni ice cream. How about you’re Supini Mr. Supini.”
He loved the tag and thereafter he was Mr. Supini. We’d in the room almost an hour. I got up, gathered my clothes, went to the bathroom, used a wet towel to clean up and dressed. I twisted open the vales of shampoo and conditioner and tore open the soap bars so they passed the "maid can take home" requirement.
While I re-applied lipstick, he asked if I was satisfied as if he was a great lover and I should be grateful.
I turned from the mirror and asked.
"Was it a half date?"
"When Cobra saw a dozen roses she thought it could be a twelve".
I picked up my purse, walked toward the door but stopped in front of the table. I left the Champagne untouched but took two the card which I read in the elevator and threw away in the lobby. It was trite, saying how much he wanted to meet me. He’d met me. Now he wasn’t going to forget me.
In the car, it was 9:45. I arrived home just after ten. Hubby didn’t ask about the time, only how the meeting went. I told him the engineer just wanted to brag about a new eight RAM mega chip and I’d left in a hurry. He was aroused and wanted to have me with the nylons still on. I took them off, showered and said he could have it in the morning. He tossed and turned all night and bright and early was rear spooned next to me. I turned to him and let him have it, pleased with my successful mission.
I threw the nylons and garter belt away. They were too complicated. Afterwards Enrico and hubby pestered me to wear them again. I told them I would get a set for them to make love to.