Linda's Different Day

At some time in the future Linda Greer would enjoy recalling the unexpected way she was feeling on that day, not to mention the eventual outcome. Although having, what she considered to be, a normal healthy attitude to sex, she had never found the need to chase after it. There had been occasions when she could go months without it. Although such times were never desirable, she could always bury herself in her writing to help any needs to pass. Since losing her virginity, in a forgettable manner, when she was eighteen, she had been involved in a few short-term affairs, some of them quite pleasant, many leaving her thinking that sex could be a very overrated pastime.

Why, at age thirty five, she had chosen to marry Herbert Linkler, twenty years her senior, she would never know. Not true, of course, she did know. He was an extremely handsome man, distinguished, with abundant charm, a pleasing manner, and a ready wit. The fact that he was a fabulously wealthy entrepreneur, she only learned after she had agreed to marry him. What she learned after they were married and then, his shock admission, which she might have guessed, led to their early divorce agreement, in which Linda got to keep this large house set in two acres of grounds.

So it was, on this particular day, that Linda stepped out onto the wide patio at the rear of the house, and stood viewing the extensive sunlit lawn and the shaded tree area almost three hundred meters away. She had spent the morning writing in her studio upstairs, trying to shed the strange sensations that had made her skin tingle when she had taken her shower that morning.

The thrill caused by rubbing her soaped hands over her breasts and belly had astonished her. This was something she did every day but it had never produced this near-elation. She had to use a sponge to wash between her thighs as she feared what affect her own fingers would have sliding over her vulva.

By now, she had passed it off as some kind of spasm, but the eroticism of the moment stuck in her mind. Her Shih Tzu, Pipsi, came snuffling alongside her, looking, wide eyed up at her, hoping there might be a treat in store. Linda bent and scratched Pipsi behind the ears causing her tail to wag. "My sole companion, aren't you, Pipsi?" she said gently. "Come on, we've some gardening to do."

There was a regular old gardener who came along fortnightly to tend to most of the bigger jobs, but Linda had noticed some weeds among the geranium patch near the front gate, and had armed herself with a trowel, a kneeler and a light bucket to hold any weeds. Normally for a task like this she might have worn a shirt and jeans, but the day being so pleasantly warm she wore only her button-up pale blue summer dress over a thin pair of panties. No bra, Linda's breasts were firm enough, and being proud of that, she rarely wore one.

Pipsi raced ahead of her, sniffing eagerly along the wall that separated the adjacent properties. A wall so high that Laura hardly knew the people in that property. All these mansion style residences were spaced along one side of the lane, and across from her garden a low hedge bordered open fields. The garden was shut off from the lane by a high, barred metal fence, with the bars spaced just close enough to ensure Pipsi could not squeeze out.

The geraniums were flowering a gorgeous red right up to the fence. Laura knelt and began trowelling out offending dandelions and chickweed. She didn't mind getting her hands dirty, finding that gloves made gripping firmer weeds difficult. Reaching out further for one obstinate dandelion she became of aware of Pipsi whining. It was a whine than seemed to be echoed. Looking up she saw Pipsi, tail wagging furiously, pressing her nose to the bars of the fence, beyond which a small brown terrier with equal eagerness was nuzzling at her. Both tongues licked hungrily.

It was at that point that the man appeared, his voice raised, "Max, come away." He stopped when he saw Laura's crouched figure, and as he gazed at her, he muttered, "Oh, sorry."

As soon as she saw him, Laura became very aware that the already loosened top of her dress was, given the position she was in, drooping to reveal more than a generous amount of cleavage. This was a total stranger who was staring down at her exposed flesh.

Yet, here and now, she couldn't care less where this stranger's eyes rested on her body. As she tried to clamber to her feet, she knew, somewhere deep down inside her, that her earlier unexpected tactile urges had been leading to this moment, this encounter.

Getting to her feet, her eyes were extolling how darkly handsome he was. Linda stood, momentarily speechless, dusting soil from her hands, longing to straighten her shoulder length hair. The stranger was more than six feet, broad chested, and dressed in a short-sleeved shirt, which revealed muscular arms. She couldn't help noticing that his shirt was almost an identical colour to her own dress.

"Hot day for gardening," he said in a deep brown voice, with a warm smile that set her blood racing. God, Linda Greer, what's wrong with you? She was trying to find relevant words, when words were usually the tools of her trade.

"Too hot," she said meekly, knowing that she wasn't talking about the weather. The moistening between her thighs told her that. Hell, that shouldn't be happening so readily. Almost desperately, she saw him smile again as he said, "I'll get you a good lawyer."
Uncertain, she said, "Pardon me?"

A wider brighter smile lit his face as he explained, "Behind those bars you could be a prisoner. See, Max is trying to get your dog to escape." Laura looked and saw that Pipsi had moved further along the fence and the terrier, called Max was keeping pace with her, as they continued licking through the bars.
Shocked at herself, but knowing exactly where she was leading this, Laura said, "Pipsi's a bitch, but she's been spayed."

That leg weakening smile again, as he said, "Yes, I had Max done when he was six months old." He laughed, and she was sure his eyes swept over her body as he added, "We humans can be so cruel."
Every fibre of her body yearned for her next move, while in the back of her mind a voice screamed, 'You never open up to a total stranger!' But, her pulse racing, she went ahead and said it, "Would you mind him coming in so that they can play together?" He must know this had to include him.

That laugh again, as his brown eyes held hers, "If it's no trouble. Keeps them from being frustrated."

Trying to control her breathing, Linda said, "Bring him to the gate. I'll open it slightly so you can pop him through or Pipsi might try to get out to him." He nodded and moved to grab his dog by the collar. Linda went to the metal pillar where the power feed for the gate was. She gave a single push and Max was guided in, and instantly the two animals were licking and circling at each other, ending up in with front paws against each other.

"Looks like a dance," the man said, as Linda, still questioning this action in one part of her mind, pressed the gate switch further, allowing him to slip through,
That devastating smile again as he said, "Thanks for this." Then he held out a hand, and said, "I'm Brad."

She looked at the broad hand he offered, and held up her own soiled hands apologetically. "Oh, I don't mind a bit of dirt," he told her, and Linda wondered if that was a deliberate double entendre, or was that all in her mind, while she rubbed her right hand furiously against the skirt of her dress, vaguely aware that her vigour had popped the lower button.

Tentatively, she held out the scrubbed hand as she gave him her name. The grip of his hand on hers was strong, yet strangely gentle. Almost like a warm caress, she told herself, as the connection sent tingles up her arm, and down through her body. What would that hand feel like on her breast? How was she going to handle this? Her weak-willed body had been telling her exactly what she wanted, no matter how much she tried to deny it.

In the meantime, the two dogs had chased each other away along the side of the house. "They seem to get on well," Brad said.
"And there's no way to get out-" Not for you, anyway, her naughty inner voice said. "We'll take their route to the back patio. There's shade there."

They started walking, side by side, along the gravel path, and Brad told her, "I only walk Max along this lane so I can admire these very fine houses. Have you lived here long?"
Very aware that their bare arms were almost touching, Laura wondered how cautious she needed to be with her answers. The first one would be the easiest, "Nearly two years."
"Mm, not long. Your husband in business?"

Even though she knew a quiet lie was the wisest policy, she found herself admitting, "We were divorced over a year and a half ago." She glanced at him to define his reaction, and his eyes widened, before he said, "Oh, I'm sorry."
She shrugged, “It was for the best. At least the weather is good” And she laughed without any bitterness.

She was pleased that he could laugh with him on that one. "You're not married?" A necessary question, she felt.
When he didn't respond immediately, she glanced at him. He had half turned his face away as he mumbled, "My wife died two years ago."

Linda was shocked by this news and she quickly apologized. His brown eyes rested on her face, and he said gruffly, "You get used to being alone." And then quickly followed up with the question she had dreaded, "Surely you aren't in this large house on your own?"

Here was a stranger, one that she was now hoping to get to know an awful lot better, but to admit to living alone? Was that prudent? "I can keep myself busy, And the house has a million security devices that my ex installed." To change the subject, she asked, "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm in plumbing. I have--" He was stopped as they reached the rear corner where he would see the wide lawn and the trees beyond. He uttered a hearty "Wow!" when he viewed it all. The two dogs were dashing madly about, occasionally disappearing into the distant trees. "I'm so grateful for giving Max this opportunity to enjoy a scamper around."