Wife and I discussing a shopping encounter she had
Fun And Flirting Out Shopping
My dream, or dreams as there are many versions of this theme are such a turn on I really need to get better at writing these hot thoughts down, some seem to come from my perspective, some from the guys perspective who is flirting with you and some from your perspective, which by the way is probably way off but I can assure you the other two perspectives are spot on!
A couple of thoughts about what my thoughts are, so buckle your seat belt and unbutton a couple more buttons on your top.
I know you know how much it turns me on when you are flirted with AND you flirt back,I can't tell you how many times I have awoken with my hardness trying like crazy to wake me up. If it would only stay that way I'd be in heaven. (need to buy some of that magic viagra stuff for those times you come home with little hot flirting stories.)
I get a huge thrill when I see that little cute naughty grin on your face when you tell me about these encounters too, I just LOVE that.
When you come home VERY SOON I hope with some excitement in your voice as you tell me about this guy who was really flirting and you were having such a good time you gave him a Flirt Card and your business card I want to lick you while you tell me all the fun sexy details.
Now for my take on what your admirer is thinking and going through......
Shopping is usually not such a fun time but this lady I can't seem to keep my eyes off of her she carries herself in a way that just exudes SEXY, my God she smiled at me? I saw it in her eyes her eyes smiled woah I have to find a way to say something and not sound like an idiot or a stalker. MMMmmm goodness there she is again, whatever she is looking at I need to browse around there too. God she is beautiful. I wonder if she would like to go have a drink or a cup of coffee or WHATEVER.
I can't even begin to assume what is going through your mind so I am leaving this right here for you to enlighten me.
It was a cliche one of those unlikely occurrences, that despite the odds against it, actually DO happen and happen so often that it becomes not just a possibility, but becomes accepted and often anticipated part of current culture. Something that even though it's actual occurrence isn't common it is considered so possible that a part of each of us almost expects it to really happen, and when it really does those involved find themselves almost giddy with the excitement of the moment and at the same time are caught in the sticky web of uncertainty and doubt questioning if it's really happening or if they are just imagining it.
It was Thursday evening of a long day of running as fast as I could from one store to the next trying to get all my monthly shopping in the neighboring and much larger coastal town done before they roll the sidewalks up at 9pm. That's normal for most of the small towns along the Oregon coast. I was about halfway through the last store on my to-do list at 8:30pm, I was trying to hustle and be thorough at the same time. I was hunting through dozens of spices hoping to find whole cloves, while blatantly dancing to the really great vintage rock & roll that was being belted through the surprisingly awesome intercom speakers in the store...Bob Seeger rocking the entire store as he was running through the night. As usual I was not completely successful at controlling my response to the music, but as late as it was there were not many shoppers in the store so I told myself I could get away with it without looking like a wingnut or like I had been drinking or enjoying some really good d**g, neither of which I partake of.
I just really like “our” music and I really like to dance. And (with)? Everything that has been going on in the past year or so 2020, it seems permissible,if not necessary to take every opportunity that presents itself to grab hold of even the most unlikely or fleeting moments of enjoyment or simple pleasure.
So there I was, in the baking supplies and seasonings isle of Grocery Outlet leaning over to peer intently at the somewhat jumbled lower shelves of spices, moving and grooving subtly to the music. I suddenly realized I was no longer alone, that sixth sense that alerts us of another ones presence kicked in and startled and embarrassed me Oh Busted!
I brushed my elbow length sunny blonde over chestnut hair back out of my face and glanced up up and over as I straightened. I was probably blushing, but who can tell with these days of masks and social distancing. The presence I'd become aware of was a man of average height and weight with silvery hair that was a little overgrown and bright blue eyes that were on me NOT the spices and seasonings. I grinned at him to diffuse the awkward situation and thought to myself with this mask on who knows if he could tell I was smiling at him? I realized he probably could because I could tell he was grinning back at me! We both returned to scanning the shelves in silence until he or I spoke first I really don't remember who spoke first about trying to find a needle in a haystack at the same time almost in sync, our eyes met again and we both laughed. There is so much here and it is so jumbled up it's hard to find anything I said just because it seemed like somebody should say something! He was bent over looking through the lower shelves and laughed saying “something so simple would not be so hard to find” I asked “what are you looking for?” and realized he was looking at me again and not the shelves. “Black pepper, plain old black pepper” he said and we both scanned the shelves together as if we had known each other for years, comfortable for some reason as if we were longtime neighbors or co-worker, funny how that almost strange kind of companionship can spring up unexpectedly at the most unlikely moments. He said he wanted to be sure he had everything he need for the dinner he was cooking for his daughter who was flying into town the next day. Again I realized he seemed to be more interested in looking at me with those bright blue eyes than at the shelves for the black pepper. As I straightened up and turned to him I asked “Oh? What are you cooking?” as if were were used to sharing recipes on a regular basis and collaborating on meal planning or dinner parties, so strange. He nodded toward his shopping cart and told me “Pot Roast, I got a good one too actually the biggest one I've ever made” “Oh?” As I stepped over to peer down into his basket at a very enormous hunk of pot roast “That sounds yummy!”, I remarked, peering down into the bottom of his shopping cart at an enormous package of meat, encased in a heavy gauge vinyl sleeve. “ OH MY! That IS a BIG ONE! Did you say you're feeding an army?!”
We both laughed ,again, though there really wasn't anything funny about a big pot roast or a family dinner. I think we were both just laughing at ourselves and the situation, and because we were in unfamiliar social territory, standing there , complete strangers, in the middle of a discount grocery store. Both of us, I think, trying not to think about stories we'd read or heard, sexy stories about single people meeting “someone new”, at the local grocery store. I, myself, could not help but feel awkward. This situation was completely out of my realm of experience! And, on top of that, I had yet another...odd...situation to contend with. I wasn't exactly... technically...single. Or married, either, for that matter. Even though the man who I had been completely in love with for over twenty years, and faithful to, in every oft-debated sense of the word, was at home, waiting for me to finish my marathon shopping and come home. He would be waiting eagerly, to help me cart in and put away all my purchases, and even more eagerly hoping that I would have some “stories” to share with him. Some...sexy, flirty, maybe even “naughty”stories of things that had happened during my day of running around, an anonymous shopper on an out of town excursion. Whenever I left the house, over the course of the past ten or so years, for whatever reason, my love would wrap his long arms around me, holding me close, and give me a wonderful kiss that was either deeply warm and loving, or sexy enough to take my breath away and make me wish I weren't leaving. Then he'd get that mischievous look that you usually only see on the faces of eight year old boys who are “ up to something!”, wiggle his wild-man eyebrows at me, and with blazing and dancing bright blue eyes, grin and say “Have a fun time, Sweetie!!! Drive safe... and have a ball!”. Every single time! This!...despite an ongoing and sometimes heated debate about the true meanings of “loyalty”, “commitment”,. And that slippery one, “Kinky”, As well as the varying definitions of “Marriage” and of “Cheating”. All that and much more, had been the subjects of hours of head scratching, hair pulling, conversation, debates and even arguments in the homes that the love of my life and I had shared, during the two decades-plus, that we had been together.
At the time that I found myself engaged in conversation on one level, in the middle aisle of Grocery Outlet, with a man who was somehow reacting to me and , effortlessly, evoking a response from me, that was... somehow, completely different than anything else I'd ever felt in those twenty-plus years. And was something I didn't know what to think about. It was somehow, wildly exciting... and ...wrong. Something that had the allure of a forbidden fruit that you just KNEW you had to walk away from... as fast as possible! But, at the same time...you couldn't stop thinking about it! Wondering...”What if?” It was impossible to break away and forget about . Impossible, if you did manage to walk away... it was just impossible not to look back! Not to take, just a quick ,little peek!! And, to make everything just a little more confusing...and unnerving... My love and I had not yet ever managed to completely resolve our ongoing delima... There was still a gulf of unsettled, undetermined no-mans-land between us, a chasm that continued to yawn open, wider and wider, over how He saw things and how I saw things. A Grand Canyon sized difference between what He wanted to have happen in our relationship and What I wanted to have happen in our relationship. I knew that He would be THRILLED over what seemed to be going on in the center aisle of Grocery Outlet, between this stranger and myself. I was pretty sure that he would even be more thrilled, if I pursued it. But, how far?! At what point would it really stop being a turn on for him, to know that another man was interested? He always “Re-Assured” me that it was wildly exciting to him to know that another man wanted me. Wanted “what was his!” He seemed to be honestly surprised when I took offense to that! He seemed to feel like he was offering me this enormous “gift. ”Offering me a kind of “freedom” that most men were not secure enough, in themselves, or in their relationships, to even consider ! He told me again and again, that he loved me and trusted me enough to share that freedom with me. And he wanted more than anything, for me to be happy, and satisfied and to experience all of the excitement and the self confidence that he believed that I was entitled to feel. That was what he said. What he seemed to really believe. I thought I understood, the real reason behind it all. Behind his unprecedented “generosity”. Behind his DETERMINATION to insist on giving me, or nearly insist on giving me this gift of freedom that I did not want! That went against everything that was a part of me. That was important to me. I would have gladly done just about anything for the guy! But what he wanted was against everything I believed in. To give in would have been to tear out the very cornerstones of my life. Of myself. I couldn't seem to convince him of what I really wanted and what I really needed in a relationship. It seemed that all he could see was what was missing, no matter what I said or did. And so he kept on asking... kept on trying to insist that I accept the gift that I wanted no part of. He kept on asking whenever I came back home, from any task or appointment, or any work that I had to do, What had happened, while I was out there...what stories did I have to tell him? But, despite his apparent disappointment when I had no stories, or had little to tell from my grocery shopping trips, or Doctors appointments or errands, I couldn't help but wonder, just how pleased he might really be, if I came home with a REAL “hair-curler” of a story? Would he really be happy, would he really find it exciting if I came home and gave him some coastal Oregon version of “Debbie-Does-Dallas!?” Honestly, I didn't really think so. Even if he couldn't see it, or didn't share my beliefs... He would be losing more than he could ever gain, that way. What if I were to go home and tell him all about this strange and exciting ...chemistry, that seemed to be taking place between myself and the stranger at Grocery outlet? Would it satisfy what ever need was unmet in him? Would it be enough? Or would he want more? Would he want it to go farther?
What was actually going on? It was something very casual, and not so very unusual in a small town environment, but it somehow FELT completely new and different and out of the ordinary. It had me feeling about fifteen, completely socially naive, un-nerved and without a clue about what to say or do next. It made me feel disloyal. Surely, that feeling that was putting butterflies in my stomach and making my pulse race so hard, had to be disloyal! And yet, it was the VERY kind of thing that he had been asking me for, asking me to do, for years! And here was this man, this unknown man, standing there with his basket full of beef roast and his eyes full of some kind of light that, at least for the moment, was bright and dancing with excitement and was only for me. He was looking at only me, through his Covid 19 mask, still a little breathless from our laughter, and looking as if his stomach was full of butterflies too, and excitement and the hope that only comes when somehow, by some special “grace” you find yourself at the beginning of something that you can just tell, has the possibility of being something wonderful. “B” and I had felt that way too, in the beginning. In the beginning, when just the wonder of being together was enough. When just realizing that we were at the start of falling in love was more than enough to light up our eyes and our hearts and our whole lives. What on earth was I supposed to go home and tell him about what had happened tonight?! About what seemed to be happening, right now?! I really had NO idea!
The only thing I could think of to do, or manage to do was to laugh, trying my hardest to, at the very least, not let myself giggle or snort, like a seventh grader on the playground. My companion must have been similarly afflicted, if his beet red, madly blushing for no reason at all, and hysterically tinged laughter and shuffling feet were any indication. We must both have looked and sounded as ridiculous as we felt, nearly having a meltdown over a conspicuously large roast, with a complete stranger, fifteen minutes or so before closing time on a Tuesday evening. What struck me the hardest was that it all felt sweet. It felt very sweet and innocent and it made me feel good. In a way that I didn't feel good very often anymore. What scared me was how much I liked it. How much I liked feeling that way. That simple, good, happy and silly way.
After we had stopped laughing like a couple of loons, and caught our respective breaths, we continued to stand there, in the middle of Grocery Outlet, unable to figure out any other way to extend the conversation in order to try to figure out what ,exactly, was going on, and why this conversation seemed to feel so uniquely different and somehow...important. The next ten minutes or so, we spent comparing the merits of different ways of cooking a pot roast and veggies , as if we were doing the dinner for his daughter, who was arriving the next day, together! The intimacy of the situation was insane! It was as if we had known each other for either a very long time, or, had been involved very deeply with each other for a short time.
It was the strangest thing! And it certainly didn't feel at all like what it truly was...two grocery shoppers engaged in hurried, last few minutes of the evening errands... just two strangers who happened to end up in the same place, at the same time , with two grocery baskets that were passing in the night. Each of us, without any idea “why”, were trying to snatch as many crumbs of information about the other as we could, as we paused momentarily in front of the jumble of spices and seasonings, before sailing on past and out of each others lives forever.
Still pink and a little breathless, he asked if I had k**s, seeming to have forgotten that the age of my son had been the reason for our nearly uncontrollable fits of laughter.. I told him that I had one of each flavor. He laughed again, blue eyes dancing, his smile showing through in spite of the mask.
“ My son is 45...as I said” teasing him to cover both of our confusion, “And my daughter is 43 .God! The time goes so fast ! Seems like just yesterday they were little ,running around all over the place, getting into everything. Little perpetual motion machines!!” I was smiling at him, too, and just feeling happy. He seemed so easy to talk to, to just be with. He said with true amazement in his voice “45?!!My God! You'' gotta be k**ding me! What did you do, have him at 7 years old?!!”
I laughed and couldn't help but feel flattered. He laughed, too, but there was still incredulity in his voice, and in the expression in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes, in a kind of mock suspicion.
“You're putting me on, right!?”
“Nope. Not a bit! Not a c***d bride!”
The music was still pumping out of the system, hot, as if they were putting on a show and building up to the finale. Watch Her Strut, by Bob Seeger seemed to be vibrating through the air, almost imperceptibly moving both of us. I couldn't help but notice that our bodies seemed to be in sync, smoothly moving along with the music, as if we'd been sending each other signals. I could tell that we'd dance well together. And in that silent and old as time perception that sometimes just comes to you, I could tell that we would do all kinds of other things well together too. It came as a shock, like sticking your finger, accidentally, into an electrical socket. It's not exactly a comfortable sensation. It definitely gets your attention! But not necessarily in a comfortable way. Again, I felt that disloyal feeling roll up and over me like a blanket of fog. Another uncomfortable feeling. What the heck was I DOING!?
“Well, I sure never would have guessed! You had me fooled. 100%! They live here? In Brookings?”
“ No, No they both live in California, down in Sacramento. That where we came from.”
“Oh, your're here from Sacramento?” His disappointment registered.
“no. Moved up from Sacramento, about twenty years ago. Came up to visit friends who have moved up to Gold Beach the year before and just fell in love with it. Raced home, sold my house. And raced back up to buy five acres overlooking the river.”I smiled at him again.”never had a moments regret! I love it here on the coast. It was one lifelong dream I was able to make come true.”
And we were off again, sharing laughter and our histories, our family information over grocery carts. He'd been looking for black pepper to season his roast and I'd been looking for whole cloves to add to my morning tea blend, but we'd both forgotten all about what we were there searching for. Somehow, it had stopped seeming important. Somehow, in those moments, we seemed to have turned towards each other, facing each other, shoulders squared and parallel. I wondered what a “body language expert” would make of that. And had a pretty good idea. It was so strange! We couldn't really see each others faces through the masks. And we didn't know each others names. But the intimacy was so ...strong! So thick, you could almost see it moving through the air between us. The music had stopped momentarily, while the announcement that the store would be closing came on. First, in fifteen minutes, then in five, as all shoppers were invited to bring their carts and final purchases to the check out stands, and the opening hours for the next day were announced.
“ Well, for heaven sakes! HOW did that happen so fast!” I said, and meant it. The time had just whizzed by. It seemed like I'd just walked in the door. I said, we had better get up to the check stands or we will be stuck here all night! Oh my, the thoughts that flashed through my mind at the proposition! He laughed with a bit of a Mmmmm thrown in for effect and added Shoot I didn't even get the Black Pepper! We both quickly guided our carts down the isle side by side toward the check stands. I offered to loan him some Black Pepper and those little butterflies were back, He asked if I was serious, could we exchange phone numbers and I told him absolutely if I could only find my business cards.
The check out went smoothly until the nice lady asked him if he found every thing he was looking for and we both laughed so hard like a couple of teenagers. He said actually he found so much more than he ever hoped to find. His comment was not lost on me and as we walked out the door and they turned the key to lock the door for the night with a loud click our eyes met and time seemed to slow down, my mind was working is so many directions. I actually was wishing there was somewhere we could go and continue our fun, and at the same time felt the urgency to get home and tell my husband all about this exciting encounter, all the time digging through my purse trying to find my business cards, I did see one of those “Flirt Cards” my husband had bought for me and actually this was a perfect time to use one too, but I told him I just can't find them darn it. We decided to just add each other to our “contacts” in each of our phones. While he helped me with the task in my phone he mentioned “I hope your husband will not be angry” and I giggled a bit and I said, “He will actually be quite pleased” and left it at that. His name was Jim, which I found slightly coincidental, but that story is for another day.
My Review of your lovely Story
By Me the Crazy in Love With You Husband
I hope you know that I love you more than the air I breath, and I realize sometimes these situations give you pause, and make you worry I will force you into something, but nothing could be further from the truth. I truly enjoy you getting pleasure from things like this and I know you love the attention, I am not asking you to go to bed with anyone, I am only asking you to enjoy the fact that many men find you incredibly hot, just like I do, my big turn on is you sharing these encounters with me, in the hope that the two of us can engage in some very hot sex. Putting it plainly.
I get very excited in the anticipation of you dressing up all sexy and hot for me to take pictures that can give me joy for a very long time, we can fantasize and explore things that turn you and me on together, not just me.
Tell me did that little fun flirting at Grocery Outlet NOT turn you an and get you excited?
It seems to me it did and I love that, you came home to me and told me all about it THAT is such a turn on. Don't feel conflicted or feel bad when something turns you on, enjoy that feeling. I wish every time something like that happens that you allow me to lick you the entire time you tell me all about it. I know your so very tired much of the time but think about it, let yourself feel the excitement and let me give you my undivided focused love.
My dream, or dreams as there are many versions of this theme are such a turn on I really need to get better at writing these hot thoughts down, some seem to come from my perspective, some from the guys perspective who is flirting with you and some from your perspective, which by the way is probably way off but I can assure you the other two perspectives are spot on!
A couple of thoughts about what my thoughts are, so buckle your seat belt and unbutton a couple more buttons on your top.
I know you know how much it turns me on when you are flirted with AND you flirt back,I can't tell you how many times I have awoken with my hardness trying like crazy to wake me up. If it would only stay that way I'd be in heaven. (need to buy some of that magic viagra stuff for those times you come home with little hot flirting stories.)
I get a huge thrill when I see that little cute naughty grin on your face when you tell me about these encounters too, I just LOVE that.
When you come home VERY SOON I hope with some excitement in your voice as you tell me about this guy who was really flirting and you were having such a good time you gave him a Flirt Card and your business card I want to lick you while you tell me all the fun sexy details.
Now for my take on what your admirer is thinking and going through......
Shopping is usually not such a fun time but this lady I can't seem to keep my eyes off of her she carries herself in a way that just exudes SEXY, my God she smiled at me? I saw it in her eyes her eyes smiled woah I have to find a way to say something and not sound like an idiot or a stalker. MMMmmm goodness there she is again, whatever she is looking at I need to browse around there too. God she is beautiful. I wonder if she would like to go have a drink or a cup of coffee or WHATEVER.
I can't even begin to assume what is going through your mind so I am leaving this right here for you to enlighten me.
It was a cliche one of those unlikely occurrences, that despite the odds against it, actually DO happen and happen so often that it becomes not just a possibility, but becomes accepted and often anticipated part of current culture. Something that even though it's actual occurrence isn't common it is considered so possible that a part of each of us almost expects it to really happen, and when it really does those involved find themselves almost giddy with the excitement of the moment and at the same time are caught in the sticky web of uncertainty and doubt questioning if it's really happening or if they are just imagining it.
It was Thursday evening of a long day of running as fast as I could from one store to the next trying to get all my monthly shopping in the neighboring and much larger coastal town done before they roll the sidewalks up at 9pm. That's normal for most of the small towns along the Oregon coast. I was about halfway through the last store on my to-do list at 8:30pm, I was trying to hustle and be thorough at the same time. I was hunting through dozens of spices hoping to find whole cloves, while blatantly dancing to the really great vintage rock & roll that was being belted through the surprisingly awesome intercom speakers in the store...Bob Seeger rocking the entire store as he was running through the night. As usual I was not completely successful at controlling my response to the music, but as late as it was there were not many shoppers in the store so I told myself I could get away with it without looking like a wingnut or like I had been drinking or enjoying some really good d**g, neither of which I partake of.
I just really like “our” music and I really like to dance. And (with)? Everything that has been going on in the past year or so 2020, it seems permissible,if not necessary to take every opportunity that presents itself to grab hold of even the most unlikely or fleeting moments of enjoyment or simple pleasure.
So there I was, in the baking supplies and seasonings isle of Grocery Outlet leaning over to peer intently at the somewhat jumbled lower shelves of spices, moving and grooving subtly to the music. I suddenly realized I was no longer alone, that sixth sense that alerts us of another ones presence kicked in and startled and embarrassed me Oh Busted!
I brushed my elbow length sunny blonde over chestnut hair back out of my face and glanced up up and over as I straightened. I was probably blushing, but who can tell with these days of masks and social distancing. The presence I'd become aware of was a man of average height and weight with silvery hair that was a little overgrown and bright blue eyes that were on me NOT the spices and seasonings. I grinned at him to diffuse the awkward situation and thought to myself with this mask on who knows if he could tell I was smiling at him? I realized he probably could because I could tell he was grinning back at me! We both returned to scanning the shelves in silence until he or I spoke first I really don't remember who spoke first about trying to find a needle in a haystack at the same time almost in sync, our eyes met again and we both laughed. There is so much here and it is so jumbled up it's hard to find anything I said just because it seemed like somebody should say something! He was bent over looking through the lower shelves and laughed saying “something so simple would not be so hard to find” I asked “what are you looking for?” and realized he was looking at me again and not the shelves. “Black pepper, plain old black pepper” he said and we both scanned the shelves together as if we had known each other for years, comfortable for some reason as if we were longtime neighbors or co-worker, funny how that almost strange kind of companionship can spring up unexpectedly at the most unlikely moments. He said he wanted to be sure he had everything he need for the dinner he was cooking for his daughter who was flying into town the next day. Again I realized he seemed to be more interested in looking at me with those bright blue eyes than at the shelves for the black pepper. As I straightened up and turned to him I asked “Oh? What are you cooking?” as if were were used to sharing recipes on a regular basis and collaborating on meal planning or dinner parties, so strange. He nodded toward his shopping cart and told me “Pot Roast, I got a good one too actually the biggest one I've ever made” “Oh?” As I stepped over to peer down into his basket at a very enormous hunk of pot roast “That sounds yummy!”, I remarked, peering down into the bottom of his shopping cart at an enormous package of meat, encased in a heavy gauge vinyl sleeve. “ OH MY! That IS a BIG ONE! Did you say you're feeding an army?!”
We both laughed ,again, though there really wasn't anything funny about a big pot roast or a family dinner. I think we were both just laughing at ourselves and the situation, and because we were in unfamiliar social territory, standing there , complete strangers, in the middle of a discount grocery store. Both of us, I think, trying not to think about stories we'd read or heard, sexy stories about single people meeting “someone new”, at the local grocery store. I, myself, could not help but feel awkward. This situation was completely out of my realm of experience! And, on top of that, I had yet another...odd...situation to contend with. I wasn't exactly... technically...single. Or married, either, for that matter. Even though the man who I had been completely in love with for over twenty years, and faithful to, in every oft-debated sense of the word, was at home, waiting for me to finish my marathon shopping and come home. He would be waiting eagerly, to help me cart in and put away all my purchases, and even more eagerly hoping that I would have some “stories” to share with him. Some...sexy, flirty, maybe even “naughty”stories of things that had happened during my day of running around, an anonymous shopper on an out of town excursion. Whenever I left the house, over the course of the past ten or so years, for whatever reason, my love would wrap his long arms around me, holding me close, and give me a wonderful kiss that was either deeply warm and loving, or sexy enough to take my breath away and make me wish I weren't leaving. Then he'd get that mischievous look that you usually only see on the faces of eight year old boys who are “ up to something!”, wiggle his wild-man eyebrows at me, and with blazing and dancing bright blue eyes, grin and say “Have a fun time, Sweetie!!! Drive safe... and have a ball!”. Every single time! This!...despite an ongoing and sometimes heated debate about the true meanings of “loyalty”, “commitment”,. And that slippery one, “Kinky”, As well as the varying definitions of “Marriage” and of “Cheating”. All that and much more, had been the subjects of hours of head scratching, hair pulling, conversation, debates and even arguments in the homes that the love of my life and I had shared, during the two decades-plus, that we had been together.
At the time that I found myself engaged in conversation on one level, in the middle aisle of Grocery Outlet, with a man who was somehow reacting to me and , effortlessly, evoking a response from me, that was... somehow, completely different than anything else I'd ever felt in those twenty-plus years. And was something I didn't know what to think about. It was somehow, wildly exciting... and ...wrong. Something that had the allure of a forbidden fruit that you just KNEW you had to walk away from... as fast as possible! But, at the same time...you couldn't stop thinking about it! Wondering...”What if?” It was impossible to break away and forget about . Impossible, if you did manage to walk away... it was just impossible not to look back! Not to take, just a quick ,little peek!! And, to make everything just a little more confusing...and unnerving... My love and I had not yet ever managed to completely resolve our ongoing delima... There was still a gulf of unsettled, undetermined no-mans-land between us, a chasm that continued to yawn open, wider and wider, over how He saw things and how I saw things. A Grand Canyon sized difference between what He wanted to have happen in our relationship and What I wanted to have happen in our relationship. I knew that He would be THRILLED over what seemed to be going on in the center aisle of Grocery Outlet, between this stranger and myself. I was pretty sure that he would even be more thrilled, if I pursued it. But, how far?! At what point would it really stop being a turn on for him, to know that another man was interested? He always “Re-Assured” me that it was wildly exciting to him to know that another man wanted me. Wanted “what was his!” He seemed to be honestly surprised when I took offense to that! He seemed to feel like he was offering me this enormous “gift. ”Offering me a kind of “freedom” that most men were not secure enough, in themselves, or in their relationships, to even consider ! He told me again and again, that he loved me and trusted me enough to share that freedom with me. And he wanted more than anything, for me to be happy, and satisfied and to experience all of the excitement and the self confidence that he believed that I was entitled to feel. That was what he said. What he seemed to really believe. I thought I understood, the real reason behind it all. Behind his unprecedented “generosity”. Behind his DETERMINATION to insist on giving me, or nearly insist on giving me this gift of freedom that I did not want! That went against everything that was a part of me. That was important to me. I would have gladly done just about anything for the guy! But what he wanted was against everything I believed in. To give in would have been to tear out the very cornerstones of my life. Of myself. I couldn't seem to convince him of what I really wanted and what I really needed in a relationship. It seemed that all he could see was what was missing, no matter what I said or did. And so he kept on asking... kept on trying to insist that I accept the gift that I wanted no part of. He kept on asking whenever I came back home, from any task or appointment, or any work that I had to do, What had happened, while I was out there...what stories did I have to tell him? But, despite his apparent disappointment when I had no stories, or had little to tell from my grocery shopping trips, or Doctors appointments or errands, I couldn't help but wonder, just how pleased he might really be, if I came home with a REAL “hair-curler” of a story? Would he really be happy, would he really find it exciting if I came home and gave him some coastal Oregon version of “Debbie-Does-Dallas!?” Honestly, I didn't really think so. Even if he couldn't see it, or didn't share my beliefs... He would be losing more than he could ever gain, that way. What if I were to go home and tell him all about this strange and exciting ...chemistry, that seemed to be taking place between myself and the stranger at Grocery outlet? Would it satisfy what ever need was unmet in him? Would it be enough? Or would he want more? Would he want it to go farther?
What was actually going on? It was something very casual, and not so very unusual in a small town environment, but it somehow FELT completely new and different and out of the ordinary. It had me feeling about fifteen, completely socially naive, un-nerved and without a clue about what to say or do next. It made me feel disloyal. Surely, that feeling that was putting butterflies in my stomach and making my pulse race so hard, had to be disloyal! And yet, it was the VERY kind of thing that he had been asking me for, asking me to do, for years! And here was this man, this unknown man, standing there with his basket full of beef roast and his eyes full of some kind of light that, at least for the moment, was bright and dancing with excitement and was only for me. He was looking at only me, through his Covid 19 mask, still a little breathless from our laughter, and looking as if his stomach was full of butterflies too, and excitement and the hope that only comes when somehow, by some special “grace” you find yourself at the beginning of something that you can just tell, has the possibility of being something wonderful. “B” and I had felt that way too, in the beginning. In the beginning, when just the wonder of being together was enough. When just realizing that we were at the start of falling in love was more than enough to light up our eyes and our hearts and our whole lives. What on earth was I supposed to go home and tell him about what had happened tonight?! About what seemed to be happening, right now?! I really had NO idea!
The only thing I could think of to do, or manage to do was to laugh, trying my hardest to, at the very least, not let myself giggle or snort, like a seventh grader on the playground. My companion must have been similarly afflicted, if his beet red, madly blushing for no reason at all, and hysterically tinged laughter and shuffling feet were any indication. We must both have looked and sounded as ridiculous as we felt, nearly having a meltdown over a conspicuously large roast, with a complete stranger, fifteen minutes or so before closing time on a Tuesday evening. What struck me the hardest was that it all felt sweet. It felt very sweet and innocent and it made me feel good. In a way that I didn't feel good very often anymore. What scared me was how much I liked it. How much I liked feeling that way. That simple, good, happy and silly way.
After we had stopped laughing like a couple of loons, and caught our respective breaths, we continued to stand there, in the middle of Grocery Outlet, unable to figure out any other way to extend the conversation in order to try to figure out what ,exactly, was going on, and why this conversation seemed to feel so uniquely different and somehow...important. The next ten minutes or so, we spent comparing the merits of different ways of cooking a pot roast and veggies , as if we were doing the dinner for his daughter, who was arriving the next day, together! The intimacy of the situation was insane! It was as if we had known each other for either a very long time, or, had been involved very deeply with each other for a short time.
It was the strangest thing! And it certainly didn't feel at all like what it truly was...two grocery shoppers engaged in hurried, last few minutes of the evening errands... just two strangers who happened to end up in the same place, at the same time , with two grocery baskets that were passing in the night. Each of us, without any idea “why”, were trying to snatch as many crumbs of information about the other as we could, as we paused momentarily in front of the jumble of spices and seasonings, before sailing on past and out of each others lives forever.
Still pink and a little breathless, he asked if I had k**s, seeming to have forgotten that the age of my son had been the reason for our nearly uncontrollable fits of laughter.. I told him that I had one of each flavor. He laughed again, blue eyes dancing, his smile showing through in spite of the mask.
“ My son is 45...as I said” teasing him to cover both of our confusion, “And my daughter is 43 .God! The time goes so fast ! Seems like just yesterday they were little ,running around all over the place, getting into everything. Little perpetual motion machines!!” I was smiling at him, too, and just feeling happy. He seemed so easy to talk to, to just be with. He said with true amazement in his voice “45?!!My God! You'' gotta be k**ding me! What did you do, have him at 7 years old?!!”
I laughed and couldn't help but feel flattered. He laughed, too, but there was still incredulity in his voice, and in the expression in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes, in a kind of mock suspicion.
“You're putting me on, right!?”
“Nope. Not a bit! Not a c***d bride!”
The music was still pumping out of the system, hot, as if they were putting on a show and building up to the finale. Watch Her Strut, by Bob Seeger seemed to be vibrating through the air, almost imperceptibly moving both of us. I couldn't help but notice that our bodies seemed to be in sync, smoothly moving along with the music, as if we'd been sending each other signals. I could tell that we'd dance well together. And in that silent and old as time perception that sometimes just comes to you, I could tell that we would do all kinds of other things well together too. It came as a shock, like sticking your finger, accidentally, into an electrical socket. It's not exactly a comfortable sensation. It definitely gets your attention! But not necessarily in a comfortable way. Again, I felt that disloyal feeling roll up and over me like a blanket of fog. Another uncomfortable feeling. What the heck was I DOING!?
“Well, I sure never would have guessed! You had me fooled. 100%! They live here? In Brookings?”
“ No, No they both live in California, down in Sacramento. That where we came from.”
“Oh, your're here from Sacramento?” His disappointment registered.
“no. Moved up from Sacramento, about twenty years ago. Came up to visit friends who have moved up to Gold Beach the year before and just fell in love with it. Raced home, sold my house. And raced back up to buy five acres overlooking the river.”I smiled at him again.”never had a moments regret! I love it here on the coast. It was one lifelong dream I was able to make come true.”
And we were off again, sharing laughter and our histories, our family information over grocery carts. He'd been looking for black pepper to season his roast and I'd been looking for whole cloves to add to my morning tea blend, but we'd both forgotten all about what we were there searching for. Somehow, it had stopped seeming important. Somehow, in those moments, we seemed to have turned towards each other, facing each other, shoulders squared and parallel. I wondered what a “body language expert” would make of that. And had a pretty good idea. It was so strange! We couldn't really see each others faces through the masks. And we didn't know each others names. But the intimacy was so ...strong! So thick, you could almost see it moving through the air between us. The music had stopped momentarily, while the announcement that the store would be closing came on. First, in fifteen minutes, then in five, as all shoppers were invited to bring their carts and final purchases to the check out stands, and the opening hours for the next day were announced.
“ Well, for heaven sakes! HOW did that happen so fast!” I said, and meant it. The time had just whizzed by. It seemed like I'd just walked in the door. I said, we had better get up to the check stands or we will be stuck here all night! Oh my, the thoughts that flashed through my mind at the proposition! He laughed with a bit of a Mmmmm thrown in for effect and added Shoot I didn't even get the Black Pepper! We both quickly guided our carts down the isle side by side toward the check stands. I offered to loan him some Black Pepper and those little butterflies were back, He asked if I was serious, could we exchange phone numbers and I told him absolutely if I could only find my business cards.
The check out went smoothly until the nice lady asked him if he found every thing he was looking for and we both laughed so hard like a couple of teenagers. He said actually he found so much more than he ever hoped to find. His comment was not lost on me and as we walked out the door and they turned the key to lock the door for the night with a loud click our eyes met and time seemed to slow down, my mind was working is so many directions. I actually was wishing there was somewhere we could go and continue our fun, and at the same time felt the urgency to get home and tell my husband all about this exciting encounter, all the time digging through my purse trying to find my business cards, I did see one of those “Flirt Cards” my husband had bought for me and actually this was a perfect time to use one too, but I told him I just can't find them darn it. We decided to just add each other to our “contacts” in each of our phones. While he helped me with the task in my phone he mentioned “I hope your husband will not be angry” and I giggled a bit and I said, “He will actually be quite pleased” and left it at that. His name was Jim, which I found slightly coincidental, but that story is for another day.
My Review of your lovely Story
By Me the Crazy in Love With You Husband
I hope you know that I love you more than the air I breath, and I realize sometimes these situations give you pause, and make you worry I will force you into something, but nothing could be further from the truth. I truly enjoy you getting pleasure from things like this and I know you love the attention, I am not asking you to go to bed with anyone, I am only asking you to enjoy the fact that many men find you incredibly hot, just like I do, my big turn on is you sharing these encounters with me, in the hope that the two of us can engage in some very hot sex. Putting it plainly.
I get very excited in the anticipation of you dressing up all sexy and hot for me to take pictures that can give me joy for a very long time, we can fantasize and explore things that turn you and me on together, not just me.
Tell me did that little fun flirting at Grocery Outlet NOT turn you an and get you excited?
It seems to me it did and I love that, you came home to me and told me all about it THAT is such a turn on. Don't feel conflicted or feel bad when something turns you on, enjoy that feeling. I wish every time something like that happens that you allow me to lick you the entire time you tell me all about it. I know your so very tired much of the time but think about it, let yourself feel the excitement and let me give you my undivided focused love.
4 years ago
