Steve bent Lucy face-down over the kitchen counter, and stooped behind her so that her displayed derriere was at eye-level. He ran both hands up her skirt, forcefully with palms flat, and placed them squarely on her buttocks. Through her cotton panties, he began to massage her perfectly-formed ass in alternating fashion: first up-and-down, then side-to-side, then in a circular pattern.
Steve tugged the back of Lucy’s skirt up to give his head enough clearance to duck underneath. There was just something about the warm, musky, just-had-a-pee smell that emanated from between the legs of a woman that got to him. Especially in the case of petite Asian women. The walls of the skirt acted as a canopy to contain the aroma and reflect it back to the center of its confining space. All of the essence she had built up the whole day, coupled with her heightening sexual excitement, was there, like a tangible presence, underneath that skirt.
Steve slid one hand up her thigh and under the material of her cotton panty on one side of her leg. He continued to rub, knead, pinch, smack, and generally manhandle Lucy’s ass as he saw fit with his left hand. With the other hand, he reached between her legs, lightly fingering and caressing the hood of her clit with the slightest of touches, first through her cotton panties.
Then, adeptly moving the cotton material to the right and holding it aside with the last three fingers of his right hand, he exposed her hooded clitoris. He ran the index finger gently in little circles on her pussy lips close to her clit, eventually switching to his tongue to continue the pattern. First gently, then more urgently. This was one heavenly pussy he did not intend to let get away.
Lucy, on her part, couldn’t believe where his face was buried. Her ex-husband, Mr. Conservative, had never gone down on her, ever. Sure she had masturbated before and she knew how good it felt (mmmmmm, how it felt good). But knowing a man was using his tongue to pleasure her, served to increase the feeling’s intensity. And Steve wasn’t just licking her sweet spot. He was expertly accessing, it seemed, all her secret crevices, giving her a tongue-bath that washed her in wave after spine-tingling wave. It was as if nerves she hadn’t known existed were running from her nether-regions to every pore on her skin.
How did she, a middle-aged mother of two grown-up children, wind up in some strange apartment, bent over a kitchen counter, with a man’s nose halfway up her ass? She remembered standing in front of the mirror one day, as she frequently did lately since her separation, taking stock of her person and position. It must’ve been, what?, three months ago now? How time flies…
She’d just come out of the shower, toweled off, and was taking inventory in the medicine cabinet mirror. She stared at her chubby but small-boned reflection. Lucy cupped one hand under each of her C-cup breasts lifting them gently. They’re starting to sag , she thought pensively. She put her hands on each side of her naked buttocks and spread them. Her bottom remained as firm as ever. She nodded to herself appreciatively. She then picked up her brush and began to brush her hair slowly and deliberately (something she really liked to do because of the pleasurable sensation it produced on her scalp).
Lucy was 46: a quiet, demure, and unassuming Philippine woman with a good-natured smile that was never far from her lips. She had many girlfriends of long-standing who all swore by her. She usually wore full-length pants in public, pants that were usually coupled with a suit jacket and simple dress-up sandals. She usually wore a pant-suit out, even to make her daily rounds. Her outfit, she reasoned, was probably a little too hot to wear all-year round in the Oahu climate. But Efrin, her recently estranged husband, would hear none of it: she was supposed to dress like the wife, as she was, of a respected Philippine resident living on the island.
Leonora was coming to pick her up soon. Leonora, her best friend, was a 37 yr old, long-time divorcee. She was one of those women that had grown up too fast. Back in the Philippines, as a teenager, she was constantly breaking her curfew. She had many male “friends” with which she spent a considerable amount of time with, especially at night. Though her parents didn’t know this, she drank far more than was good for her. Leonora could hold her liquor, however, and never did anything she would live to regret with those boys. She just wanted to live her life to the fullest from a very young age.
Her parents, fearing for her safety and possible lack of good judgment, had married her off quickly to a distant relative’s son. This was only 18 years ago but back then, Philippine parents had every right and social obligation to arrange their child’s marriage. For Leonora, who never intended to be tied down, marriage was a disaster and short-lived. The relative’s son cheated on her but she could have over-looked that. The problem was he was just not the man for her. In order to avoid the expected move back into her parents’ house as a young female divorcee, and also to escape their control completely, she came to Hawaii.
Many of Lucy’s girlfriends from back in the Philippines, including Leonora, had told her how their husbands or husbands of women they knew had cheated . Her husband had never cheated on her as far as she knew. He was a good provider and a great father. Their kids thought the world of him. She and him had just grown apart.
Her husband had never let Lucy wear anything shorter than a full-length skirt outside of the house. He claimed only the sexually promiscuous women showed off their legs outside of their homes. According to him, these were the only women who wore trampy lingerie and underwear. She knew her husband didn’t allow her to wear a short skirt, partly, because of how conservative he was. However, she also instinctively knew without him saying so that he did not want other men to see that which (in his mind) was his alone to enjoy.
Lucy would wear a skirt this evening. Not too tight, but not knee length either. Something loose, that came up to her mid-thigh. Round it off with her dress-up sandals. She was ready to step out, but she wasn’t about to throw all caution to the wind. The sexy underwear would have to wait for another occasion. The sound of an impatient horn came through the window. She hurried outside to join her friend.
She felt the warm evening breeze of late Spring as it came off Walmea Bay. The wind ran up her short skirt, gently caressing her upper thigh and cooling the moistness that had begun to form between her legs. Lucy’d felt the wind upon her legs before as she worked in the backyard and in the house garden wearing her shorts. However, this time, the feeling of the wind served as a reminder of her semi-bare legs in public for the first time (sort of). The thought of other men lusting after her legs gave her a rush.
She and Leonora chatted aimlessly during the drive into town. They were attending one of the numerous open-air seminars that took place this time of the year. She wasn’t sure what the topic of this particular seminar was; something to do with economic independence. She only knew that Leonora had invited her out for the evening and she had jumped at the chance to get out of the house and away from her own thoughts.
They arrived at the seminar grounds just before the opening speaker was to take center stage and they were ushered to their seats. Lucy crossed and un-crossed her legs. Again, something she had done before with clothed legs in public and had done with bare legs in private. But somehow doing it in her skirt out in the open gave her a special thrill.
She was sitting on a seat at the end of the row, a seat that abutted the aisle. Chatting with Leonora, she was surreptitiously taking in the crowd from the corner of her eye. She had a gut feeling that a certain guy sitting in one of the seats directly across the aisle, but several rows up, was eyeing her legs. He would turn to look down the aisle as if he was expecting someone to join him. As he turned to face forward again, he was taking in an eyeful of her short skirt and upper thighs, Lucy was quite sure of that.
The man was about 25 years old, looked smart in his suit, boyishly handsome, very adorable. Let him look, she thought; maybe I should have worn better panties, she chuckled to herself. Suddenly feeling very wanton and brave, she uncrossed then crossed her legs again to give the young man a private show.
After the seminar, Lucy got the distinct feeling her friend were looking for someone in particular. It was nothing Leonora said outright, she just appeared to be distracted. Suddenly, Leonora was waving fiercely to someone across the way. “Come on,” she said to Lucy, “there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Taking Lucy by the hand, Leonora jostled her way through the dispersing crowd and across the expanse of lawn. She pulled up in front of a handsome stranger.
Leonora and Steve had met in the hospital. He’d injured his back on base while training (or so he told the charge nurse upon admission. Actually, he’d fallen out of his top bunk during a tryst with a female cadet). According to Steve, he didn’t think it was a big deal at the time the injury was sustained. But, after feeling constant back pain for three days, he finally decided to check himself into the local hospital’s emergency room on his own time. He was seen by Leonora, who was on duty that day.
He and Leonora had gotten to talking about this and that, and had hit it off almost immediately. They were both free spirits who liked to grab life by the you-know-what. She was already seeing someone, but she had thought to herself, “He‘d be perfect for a certain someone I know...”
“What a surprise!” Leonora exclaimed, trying to sound delightfully shocked. To Lucy, who’d known her for more than ten years, it rang hollow. Lucy had a feeling that Leonora was up to something. But what?
“Imagine running into you, here.” Then, turning to Lucy,
“This is Steve, an acquaintance of mine from the hospital. Steve, Lucy. She’s one of my best friends.”
Lucy offered her hand (“Acquaintance?” she thought) , tentatively. He took it assuredly, in a polite and not-too-firm handshake.
“How do you do?” he smiled.
“Very well, and you?” she answered. His smile was quite engaging, she had to admit. She returned his gesture.
Steve was 37 and rather tall at 6’5”, a fact which most of the women he dated found to be irresistible. Though he had been in the army all his adult life, he was not massively built. In his clothing, which he usually wore one or two sizes too large, he looked like your average 6’5” Joe. It was only when he took off his shirt that you could see just how in shape he was, and see his toned abdominal muscles. His rock hard abs, along with his give-away hair cut, were the only clues to his military lifestyle. He was not a huge talker, although he could turn on the charm when the need arose. He had a laid-back attitude and easy-going smile, both of which women found fascinating also.
Momentary awkward pause. Then, Leonora, to Lucy: “Steve and I were talking the other day. He’s a lieutenant stationed over at Schofield/Shafter base.” The three of them shot the breeze for a while, rehashing the circumstances of his hospital visit, and discussing the just-concluded presentation.
“Steve, would you mind driving Lucy home? I’m on my way to work and I’d have to drive in the complete opposite direction just to drop her off. She lives just outside of Haleiwa.”
He nodded, “Not a problem. I live in Waialua, it’s not terribly out of my way.”
So, that’s it, Lucy thought. She’s setting me up.
“You’re such a gentleman,” Leonora said. She kissed Lucy on the cheek and said, “I’m sorry to pawn you off like this, I’m running very late. I’ll call you later, hon, to see how it went.” Leonora gave her friend a conspiratorial wink, a gesture she did not intend for Steve to notice.
Steve noticed.
The entire ride home, Steve tried desperately not to look at Lucy’s tanned, golden brown legs in the passenger’s seat next to him. He imagined what it would be like to run his hands up the back of her smooth legs, up under her skirt. To pass the palm of his hand over her smooth buttocks. With great effort, he snapped himself back to the present. He asked her about herself. She had two kids, and was recently separated; that was all she seemed willing to share at the moment. Although Steve didn’t intend it to be such, he wound up telling her more about himself than he had planned.
