It was a beautiful spring day in San Francisco. Warm but not hot and the fogs of summer hadn't begun to roll in. I work for myself, and this was a day to play hooky.
I had one errand that took me downtown, but then I was free. I decided to drive out to the beach and look at the Pacific Ocean. It is still a novelty for me. I've been here ten years since coming from England, but still get a charge out of where I live. I like being a tourist sometimes and I chose a route that took me along Haight Street. As I approached the Ashbury intersection, I slowed to allow a car to pull out of a space.
I hadn't planned on stopping, but the sheer rarity of a parking spot in the Haight was not to be passed up.
I pulled into it, almost for the pure pleasure of being able to. There was another attraction: ice cream. There is a Ben and Jerry's right on the corner and I already knew what flavour I'd select. Cherry Garcia, most definitely.
I stood outside with my little cup and plastic spoon and watched the bustling sidewalk. Most of these people were tourists, I knew. Anyone not carrying a sweater or coat hasn't experienced how fast and far the temperature can drop once the sun begins to go down.
I had been behind a nice looking girl at the ice cream counter. Well, a woman, but clearly younger than me, so my mind said 'girl'. When I left the shop, she was there. Apparently doing the same thing as me. Watching the people.
I watched her. She was attractive. I liked how earnestly she was taking it all in.
I guess my appraisal went on too long because she turned my way and caught me looking at her. She gave me a wry smile. I smiled sheepishly and looked away.
There was something about her. More than just a pretty smile and generous bust.
I was sure she was a visitor. She had no coat, and a map was sticking out of her little shoulder bag. But she seemed more at home than most. As though she belonged there.
It had taken me months to get that comfortable. Perhaps she had moved here recently and was still in the exploring phase. Anyhow, I was intrigued and found myself looking her way once more, as I mentally gave her a back-story to fit what I was seeing. She caught me again. I smiled again and this time said
"Sorry."
"You're English."
I heard a lilting Irish accent.
"Yes. I'm sorry, I wasn't staring at you. Well. Yes. I was, but you look like a visitor and yet you look at home here at the same time. I was just..."
"Oh well, this is where I'm supposed to be. This is my spiritual home."
"Right here?"
"Yes, Right here in this neighbourhood, maybe not rooted to this exact corner. I really believe it. Have since I was young."
"And here you are."
"Here I am."
"First time?"
"Yes."
She beamed with delight. Her whole face lit up. Perhaps that was the moment I began to fall for her.
She had striking green eyes and her dark hair framed her face.
I've never felt I had a 'type', but the women I've been with have, more often than not, been bubbly brunettes. Some had big boobs, one even had green eyes. This girl was a triple threat without knowing it. The accent didn't hurt either, and I was charmed by how much she was digging being there.
"I've lived here a few years. I love being here."
"You're so lucky!"
"Yes, I know. There's nowhere I'd rather have ended up. Have you seen much of the city?"
"We did some touristy things. My friends are off to Alcatraz today but this was somewhere I've always wanted to visit, so I left them to it. And I like that I'm free to just wander around instead of being herded from pillar to post. Today I can try to imagine what it would be like to live here."
"I'm off today. I'd love to show you around. Show you some places that aren't on tourist maps."
"Really? You're not some psycho, are you?" Those green eyes twinkled with the laughter in her voice. Her impish smile was entrancing.
"You'll never know unless you accept my offer," I countered.
I took another spoonful of ice cream.
"That's an odd colour for ice cream. What flavour is it?"
"Cherry Garcia."
"I'm more of a strawberry girl."
"You seem more adventurous. Do you want to try it?"
"I don't know. Is it nice?"
"Well, a) it's about the best flavour they do, b) you never know until you try and c) If you aren't going to try Cherry Garcia a block from his old house then you're missing out on all that karma."
"Who's old house?"
"Jerry Garcia's!"
"Oh, Grateful Dead. Of course! How dim do I look?"
Again, the laughter in her voice disarmed me.
She didn't look dim at all. She was looking pretty damn lovely.
"So?" I persisted.
"Well, now you've made me want it more than anything."
I scooped up a sample on my spoon, making sure to include pieces of cherry and dark chocolate. She stood in front of me, closed her eyes and opened her mouth. I didn't know if she realized how much of a gesture of trust and submission it was. I gently posted the sweet treat between her lips.
"Mmm."
"Good?"
She winked at me. "That's the nicest thing a man put in my mouth for ages." Okay, so maybe she DID know what her gesture meant.
I had no answer. I'm not easy to shock, but she'd put me on the back foot. I made a kind of simpering laugh of agreement. I sounded like Rowan Atkinson in Four Weddings and a Funeral. I felt my cheeks reddening and studiously concentrated on my ice. My mind was racing, though. I began to wonder how much of an adventure this woman might be after.
When I looked back at her, there was a twinkle in her eye again.
"Sorry, my sense of humour goes over the edge sometimes."
"No, it was funny. You're funny. I like that," I managed. It was true. I love a woman with a sense of humour.
We smiled at each other. Silently eating. The momentary discomfort passed.
We finished up and disposed of our trash. I figured I'd go on to Ocean Beach and this pleasant little interlude would end.
I was about to bid her farewell when she asked me, "Where would you take me?"
"You want to?"
"Yes, show me some things I wouldn't see otherwise."
This girl had bewitched me with five minutes of silly chatter. I found myself desperately wanting to please her.
"I'd love to. It will be my pleasure."
Her response was a very arch, "Maybe it will."
I had a growing impression that I might not have to try too hard.
"Come on, my car's just here."
"Oooh, a Convertible! Perfect!"
"First things first: my name is Robert but call me Rob."
"Call me Julie."
"Is that your name?"
"What do you care?"
Boldness again. A joke yet not a joke. She was telling me that we were anonymous. Anonymous people can be whomever they want; do whatever they want. I wondered about all the things she might want.
Julie dutifully stood by the drivers-side door, because she did the same dumb thing I used to do: forgot that the steering wheel is on the left. I asked her if she was driving. She looked quizzically at me and then realized her mistake. She giggled ruefully and came around to where I was holding the passenger door for her. I climbed in and we began our little adventure.
She was interested in everything, so I figured carrying on out to Ocean Beach was as good a place as any. I chose a route that took us out through the avenues and meandered over to Sea Cliff, to see the rich people's homes.
Then through Lincoln Park. I stopped at the 17th hole of the golf course there. It's a pretty little par-three along a cliff top, with the Golden Gate Bridge as a towering backdrop. She loved it. We got out and she took a selfie, then beckoned me over so that I could be in one with her.
I put my arm around her waist and leaned in, enjoying the touch of her curves. My hand moved up a little bit. I could have claimed it was an accident. I just brushed the underside of her breast. It was thrilling.
"Are you trying to feel me up?"
"Um... no?"
"You can't fool me. I've been felt up by the best."
"Sorry, I couldn't resist. You do have nice boobs."
"They're big and heavy and literally a pain in the neck. But I can suck my own nipples! So... swings and roundabouts."
Seeing Julie sucking her own nipples suddenly appeared on my bucket list. At the top. I was staring at her chest, off in a world of my own. It may have been seconds, it may have been minutes. The fact that she had used 'literally' correctly added to my admiration. Julie snapped me out of it.
"Where next?"
We got back in the car and I concentrated on driving.
On the way, we shared brief biographies. She was from a smallish town in the Irish Republic. Married with three kids, but not feeling very loved these last few years. She was with old friends on this trip.
I assumed that, for all her suggestive comments, we would spend a nice afternoon and then that would be that.
She was sexy in a curvy, mature way that made her very attractive, but married.
It didn't matter, I was quite satisfied just to spend an afternoon in her charming company.
oOo
We got to the beach and parked up. Her knowing words and daring attitude were belied by the childlike delight she couldn't hide. She wanted to paddle in the Pacific Ocean.
I grabbed a beach towel from the trunk and led her down the steps onto the sand. I was wearing sandals already and I carried her flats for her so she could scamper along ahead.
When she reached the wet sand, I sat myself down and watched. I knew how cold the water is there and laughed at her reaction. The last of a wave rolled up to her bare feet and she stepped forward, waiting for the next. When it arrived, she bore it for about five seconds before screaming a highly inventive string of curses and turning tail.
"I thought I'd get used to it, but it started actually hurting!" She giggled as she skipped back towards me.
She sat down beside me and I used the towel to dry her feet. Then I used my bare hands to massage some warmth back into her. She squealed and wriggled when I touched the soles, but I kept on and her giggles turned to little groans. I never met a girl who didn't enjoy having her feet rubbed.
Julie told me she was hungry. I asked her what she was in the mood for and she said she wanted something typically San Franciscan. There's really no such thing. The 'clam chowder in a sourdough bowl' thing is just for tourists down at Fisherman's Wharf. What San Francisco is better known for is that restaurants are just usually very good.
I suggested Japanese. Julie told me her town didn't have such exotic fare. She had never eaten raw fish. In fact, she told me, she was very conservative and reluctant to try any 'weird' foreign food. I explained that Japanese food is not all raw fish and asked her to trust me. I promised we would only eat the safe and sane things. It was enough to persuade her to give it a try.
I took her to Ebisu. A really excellent restaurant. At dinner times it is often hard to get a seat right away, but we were early enough to sit at the sushi bar and watch our food being prepared.
We drank warm Saki and Julie let me do the ordering. She watched the chefs with fascination, applauded each dish as it was presented to us and savoured every mouthful. She was a perfect sushi bar diner.
By the time we were done, it was early evening.
"Do you need to get back?" I asked.
"Do you want me to leave?"
"No, I'm enjoying your company."
It was no lie. She was fun and sexy and I felt good in her company. As the day progressed, I had become very attracted to her and if she hadn't been married I'd have been trying very hard to persuade her to stay out later. The only lie was an omission. I could have said I wanted her to stay because I wanted to sleep with her.
Her response was to take out her phone and start a message, making sure I could see. She posted the selfie she had taken of us, winked at me, typed in 'got lucky, don't worry' and hit 'send.'
"Right," she told me. "I can stay until 10 now."
"Oh that's great, I have you for a few more hours."
"Er... in the morning."
So there it was.
"I wasn't expecting this, Julie."
"I should bloody hope not!"
I knew she was married, but I didn't care. She was fun and sexy and I wanted her. And she was into it, obviously.
Yet, still, a pang of conscience had to be eliminated.
"Are you sure about this? I know you have a husband."
"I used to be quite a randy girl, before I got married and had kids," she told me. "I still like sex but I'm not getting much these days. You're a sexy man, and you seem to be attracted to me. And I'm away from home. And my friends will never tell. And I'm horny as hell. And... just stop being nice, take me to your place, and take me to bed!"
I led her from the restaurant. The evening chill had arrived. Fog had rolled in on the Sunset district. I put my coat around Julie's shoulders and we walked to where my car was parked.
I held her hand as we walked, feeling like a teenager. Excited and nervous. She was excited too, chattering away, noticing everything about the neighbourhood. Remarking on the unremarkable. Her fresh eyes brought back to my mind how I felt when I first arrived. It was nice to be reminded how great it is to have landed up here after my itinerant life.
I live two blocks from where we had eaten and, without telling Julie, had parked outside my building when we got back from the beach.
We reached my car and I said, "Here we are."
Julie remembered which car door to stand by but I was three steps up my stoop before she noticed I had gone in another direction.
"You're not having much luck with doors today, are you?"
"Is this where you live?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me when we parked?"
"I didn't want you to think I'd parked here deliberately to get you into my apartment. I didn't want to presume anything. And I didn't want to scare you off - I hadn't eaten out with a good-looking woman for ages."
"Get me inside and we can discuss eating out again!"
I should have been shocked. Instead, I was incredibly turned on. The words, in her pretty Irish accent, were so unexpected. I gulped, fumbled with my keys and managed to get my front door open. We hurried upstairs. I unlocked my apartment door and we tumbled inside.
All the pent-up sexual tension exploded. My hands were on her immediately, right there in my hallway. My mouth found hers. She pushed me against the wall and pushed a leg between mine. Grinding herself against me.
Her lips were soft and sensual, but her actions were more visceral. She pulled her mouth off mine.
"Show me your bedroom!"
"It's down there on the left..."
She sped ahead. We were stripping off our clothes as we went.
There was no time to take in her figure, we were filled with urgency. She was down to her bra and panties and I just was hopping along trying to take off my jeans while still walking. It was impossible. I ended up shuffling over and collapsing onto the edge of my bed.
Julie worked them off my ankles and then I felt her hands take the waistband of my underwear. I lifted my hips. She tugged. My bum was bare.
My cock was hard and was pulled down by the waistband of my boxers, pointing away from me. Julie reduced her pace and revealed my hard cock, slowly... oh, so slowly. Finally, the waistband cleared the end of my erection and it sprang back up and slapped against my stomach. With her little tease over, Julie hurried to take my underwear off completely.
She was on her knees between my legs and looked up.
"Mmmm, lovely."
Her hand reached out and she grasped me. I lay back with my eyes closed and moaned with lust, but I wanted to kiss her and touch her and explore her. I sat up on one elbow and with my other hand reached for her. Taking her hand off my cock I urged her to come and lie with me.
As she stood, I was able to really appreciate her physique for the first time. Time and three children had changed some of what she may once have been but what had been added made her beautiful. Her fantastic breasts were spilling over her pretty, lacy, low-cut bra. Generous hips were highlighted by matching panties. She was soft and full and incredibly hot.
I scooted up the bed. I wanted her to come to me, but she had other ideas.
She reached back, unsnapped her bra and let it fall. Then cupped her breasts and asked if I liked them. What a question. They were magnificent. Wide aureolae surrounded her prominent nipples.
Without being asked, she took each breast in turn and showed me how she was capable of sucking her own nipples. It was only for a few moments, but created a lifetime of memories. Then she bent and slipped her panties down. Her breasts hung and swayed. I was entranced. She stood again, turned a quick three-sixty and stood there with her hands on her hips. My eyes tracked down from her pretty face to her glorious boobs then down over her belly and to the neatly trimmed pubic hair.