Chain of Events

"What's the matter Mom?" My fourteen-year old daughter's question startled me out of my reverie.

"Nothing honey," I was just thinking about something.

"You're crying Mom. What's the matter?" She demanded.

"I'm not crying. I got some makeup in my eye."

"You're not wearing any makeup," she declared. "If you don't want to take me to soccer practice, I can get a ride with someone."

"No honey. It's OK. I'll be all right."

"Are you crying because daddy yelled at you again?" She demanded.

"Here we are." I said with relief. "I love you. I'll see you in a little while. I have to go and get the drinks and snacks."

Heather got out of the van and ran towards her teammates who were already lining up for their warm up exercises.

I turned the van around in the school parking lot and headed for the 7-11.

"Damn him," I thought. "He knew I wanted to go to my knitting class tonight. The least he could do was call and tell me he was going to be late."

It really didn't matter anymore. Danny seemed determined to spend as much time away from our family and me as he could. After 22 years of marriage we sort of just lived in a parallel universe. We lived together but we did things separately. He had his work and I had the kids. Well two of them anyway. Danny, Junior was away at college. Steven was a senior in high school and already doing his own thing. He was a good kid. Never got into any trouble. That really only left me with Heather. Our 14 year-old 'baby'.

I pulled into the 7-11 parking lot.

"Dammit!" All the spaces in front of the store were full. I briefly considered parking in the handicapped spot and decided against taking the chance. I pulled into a spot against the fence and as I walked towards the entrance I ran through the list of snacks I would need for the team. Fifteen non-carbonated fruit drinks and an equal number of packages of peanut butter crackers should satisfy them. The coaches liked a can of soft drink each and one for me. I decided I would also get myself a beer. I needed it. No one would see me if I drank it in the van while they practiced.

My reflection in the mirrored windows of the 7-11 startled me.

"I must be the only woman in South Carolina without a tan," I thought.

"You look like shit," I said aloud as I studied my reflection walking towards me. A passerby heard me and glanced over at me with a look of surprise on her face.

"Maybe she thought I was talking about her," I laughed to myself.

I continued talking out loud over the sound of my flip-flops slapping on the pavement. "You look like a frumpy, forty-six year old housewife," I said. "Your hair is a mess, your shorts are dirty and your shirt has a hole in the neckline where you clip your glasses on it."

I ran my fingers through my hair and entered the store. I decided it was easier to carry two, 12 packs of fruit drinks than to try to juggle the individual plastic bottles. Standing in line, I balanced the soft drinks, my beer, and the peanut butter crackers on top of the fruit drinks. I hoped that the twenty-dollar bill I held would be enough to pay for them. I didn't feel like holding everyone up while I ran back to the van to get more money out of my purse.

"May I see some ID please," the clerk said to the woman in front of me."

She was at least 30. He was trying to impress her. She produced her ID and paid for her cigarettes and beer.

He didn't ask me for my ID. He rang up the stuff and it came to $23.46.

"I'll be right back," I said. "I left my purse in my car."

"Here! I'll get the difference and you can repay me when we get outside," said a man's voice from behind me.

I turned to look at him. He looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't place him.

I must have had a puzzled look on my face because he said, "My daughter is on the same soccer team as yours. I've seen you at practices and at games."

"Thanks," I stuttered. "I'll pay you back as soon as we get to my car."

"Don't worry about it," he said and handed the clerk enough to pay for the balance of my purchase and for his cigarettes and a can of beer.

"Thanks," I said as he scooped up the bags and followed me out the door and across the parking lot.

I could feel his eyes looking at me. I wondered if my feet and the back of my white shorts were dirty. Could he smell my sweat? I hadn't washed or applied deodorant since I went to work in the morning. I was wearing an old bra and I wondered if the tag was hanging below the band. I hated to see that on women so I was always careful to tuck mine inside the band.

I wanted to get him from behind me so I slowed down to let him catch up to me.

"Another hot one," he said.

"Yes," I replied. "I'm sorry I don't know your name."

"It's Philip. Call me Phil. Phil Tunstall."

"Nice to meet you," I replied. "I'm..."

"I know who you are," he laughed. "You're Phyllis Downing and your daughter's name is Heather."

"Call me Phyl," I replied.

"Wow! That's neat," he said with admiration as the van's sliding door automatically opened when I pressed the button on my key chain.

"Nothing but the best," I laughed. "That's what two incomes does for a family. Its just more money to spend on toys."

I stood back and looked at him as he loaded the bags onto the floor of the van. He was wearing low quarter white socks and white sneakers. He didn't have a butt to speak of and his white shorts were baggy back there. He had hairy legs and I guessed a hairy back since I could see the hair on his arms continue up and under the armholes of the sleeveless shirt he was wearing. He was probably 35, I guessed. His little paunch made up for his lack of butt. I wondered if he had a hairy belly too.

"He could have used some of that hair on his head," I thought. He was balding and the sweat glistened on his head. What hair he had left he kept cut short, almost shaved.

"At least he doesn't try to hide it with a comb over," I thought.

"You forgot the ice," he observed.

I was getting my wallet out of my purse to repay him.

"Dammit!" I said. "Nothing's going right today."

"I'll get it," he offered. "Get in and get your air conditioner going. You look like you need it."

"Thanks, I'll pay you back," I said to his back as he jogged towards the store.

I closed the door and got into the van. I started the engine and the air conditioner started to blow cool air as I ran a brush through my hair.

"Thank God for WetNaps," I said and scrubbed the sweaty dirt and grime off my face with the wet paper.

By the time Phil got back with the ice, I had put on some lipstick and rubbed a little rouge into my cheekbones. I reached back and checked to make sure that my tag was inside my bra band but the stretched out elastic on the shoulder straps of the old bra was not doing much to hold up my gravity sagged boobs. The cool air had done its job on my sweaty breasts and my nipples were visible through the material of the worn out cups.

Phil opened the driver's door and I turned and slid down off of the seat to get out. He held the door and as I swung my legs around I caught him staring at my legs and crotch.

"That dirty old man is trying to sneak a peek at my pussy," I thought.

Rather than getting upset, I felt a little tingle of excitement in my groin. At least he thought I was good looking enough to try.

A crazy thought came into my head, "Maybe I'll give him a good look" followed by another one, "Stop this at once, you fool."

Ignoring my cautionary thought, I intentionally kept my right foot inside the van and put my left foot out onto the step. I glanced at Phil and I realized that he was actually bending his knees so he could get lower for a better view.

"Well, if he wants to see my pussy that bad, I'll show it to him," I thought.

I kept my legs in the same position and leaned over the passenger seat to reach for the door lock. I was stretched out across the opening between the seats and in order to reach the door look, I had to raise my left leg up off of the step. I held the poise for a few seconds as I fumbled with the door lock. I knew that my loose legged shorts were gaping wide open and that he could see my panty crotch if he was so inclined.

He must have been inclined because his face was red and he was smiling as I climbed out of the van. We got the drinks out of the packages and put them and the soda into the cooler along with the ice.

"I'm going to put my beer in my cooler in my truck," Phil said. "Do you want me to put yours in there too?"

"Sounds good to me," I replied.

I handed him the paper bag with the beer in it and we piled the snacks on top of the full cooler. We each took a handle and carried it towards the practicing team.

"You dirty old lady, what do you think you are doing?" I chuckled to myself.

I hoped he wouldn't notice that the van had remote control door locks as I pushed the button to lock the doors.

We left the cooler and the snacks down by the field and walked back to the parking lot. It would be another twenty minutes or so before they were ready for the snacks. The parents took care of bringing the water and the snacks and it happened to be my turn for the snacks so I didn't have to stay there and hand out water bottles.

I waited for Phil to open the door of his pickup truck so I could get my beer out of his cooler.

"The truck is air conditioned so why don't you sit here with me and we can have our beers while we get to know each other better," he said.

"It's nice that someone wants to know me," I said to myself as I climbed up into the truck.

The truck was set high up off of the ground and I couldn't get myself up into it.

"Here, let me help you," Phil offered. "Excuse me!"

The "Excuse me" was because he placed both hands on the cheeks of my butt and pushed me up into the truck. I ended up with one knee on the seat and the other on the floor of the truck. My butt was sticking out of the door and right into Phil's face.

"Excuse my butt," I laughed.

"No problem, it looks good from this angle," he said as I settled myself into the seat and he closed the door behind me.

The truck started with a roar that startled me.

"I like 'em loud," Phil said as he adjusted the air conditioning vents.

"What am I doing here," I thought to myself. "I'm a mother and wife. I should be out there watching my daughter practice for her soccer game. This is stupid. I'm leaving."

Before I had a chance to voice my decision, Phil had my can of beer out of his little cooler and he popped the top and handed it to me.

"Sorry, I don't have a glass handy," he said.

"No problem," I replied as my resolve to leave faded with the feeling of the cold can in my hand.

We sipped our beers and we chatted about our daughters on the soccer team. We were both married and Phil and his wife had two children. She was an attorney and worked long hours. Her firm kept an apartment in the city and she sometimes stayed overnight while preparing for an important case. He was 34 and he worked as a recruiter for business executives.

I crooked my left leg up onto the seat, settled back and got comfortable in the big cab of the truck. We talked mostly about our kids, but every once in a while Phil would mention how lonely they were since his wife and their mother wasn't home very much.

"Is it too chilly in here for you?" Phil asked.

"No why?" I replied.

He smiled and indicated my chest. "Some parts of you look like they're cold."

I looked down and I could see my nipples pushing out the front of my shirt. I don't know where the next words that came out of my mouth came from.

"It is not only the cold that does that to them," I said.

He stared at me for a moment and reached out and ran his hand up and down the calf of my leg and then held it just above my knee.

"You got goose bumps on your leg too," he said.

Now I was really getting scared. I could feel my nipples getting harder when his hand touched my leg. The tingle in my groin spread down towards my pussy and I started to panic. I could feel the vibration of the truck motor through the seat and I was starting to enjoy it. This had gone too far. I was enjoying the flirting and the attention but I had to put a stop to this whole thing.

"I think its time we got down to the field," I said much too loudly. "Are you coming?"

Phil turned off the truck engine and I turned and opened the door on my side. The ground looked awful far down from where I was sitting. I decided I would swing my legs out and slide off of the seat to jump to the pavement. While I was preparing myself, Phil appeared in front of me.

"Here, let me help you," he offered and he put his hands on my thighs and ran them up my legs to my waist. "Watch your head."

I put my hands on his shoulders and he pulled me towards him and gently set me down onto the pavement. I stood there, with my hands on his shoulders, looking up at him. We didn't say anything for a few seconds. Phil slid his hands up my sides and into my armpits. His moved his thumbs back and forth on the sides of my breasts before he dropped his hands and stepped back. My hands fell to my sides and I almost tripped over my own feet as I moved to get out from between him and the truck. The thought crossed my mind that if he had tried to kiss me, I would have let him.

I tried to stay away from him during the game but every time but he managed to touch me with his hand on my shoulder or his bare leg against mine while we got the drinks and snacks ready for the kids.

After the game Heather and I were walking back to the van when she observed, "You seem to be in a better mood than you were when we got here."

"Oh, it was just a passing thing," I replied.

"I'll get a ride to tomorrow's practice if you want," she said.

"No, that's OK," I replied. "I had to borrow a few dollars from Samantha's father to get the snacks and I forgot to pay him back. I'll give it to him at tomorrow's practice."

Danny was home when we got back from practice. He knew something was wrong and he knew that he was the one who had caused it.

"I'm sorry sweetie," he said. "I forgot about your knitting class. I'll make it up to you. Here, give me a kiss. Will you please forgive me?"

I tried to turn my head away from his kiss but he grabbed me and pulled me to him. He squeezed me tightly against him and kissed me full on the mouth. His right hand slid down to my butt and he squeezed my cheek and pulled me against his crotch.

"Don't!" I said into his mouth. "The kids are here."

Danny relaxed his arms but I stayed with my body leaning against him. My nipples were tight and I could feel my pussy reacting to the stimulation I had gotten from Phil and now from Danny. He must have sensed something was up, because he pushed is pelvis against my belly and I pushed back.

"Well, what's gotten into you?" He asked.

"Nothing! You're imagining things. I'm all hot and sweaty from standing out in the sun at Heather's practice. I'm going to take a shower," I said. "I'll get something ready for supper after I come back down."

"Don't worry about it," Danny said. "I'll put a frozen pizza in the oven."

I went up to our bedroom and closed the door behind me. I noticed that my feet were dirty when I kicked off my flip-flops. My clothes were sticking to my skin. I peeled off my shorts and my blouse and threw them into the basket of dirty clothes. Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I studied my 46-year old, fat, cellulose-lumpy body.

"Well, maybe not really fat. Just a little chunky in spots," I rationalized to myself. "Chunky and horny."

I slipped the straps of my bra off of my shoulders and pulled it down to around my belly. Twisting the bra around so that I could get the fastener in front of me, I unhooked it and tossed it onto the bed. The bottom of my breasts sagged down from their own weight causing my nipples to point upwards. I rubbed the crease between the underside of my breasts and my chest to get rid of some of the sweat and to massage the ache out of my flesh where the under wire had been biting into me most of the day.

My thumbs rubbed the sides of my breasts and my mind flashed back to Phil's thumbs as he had rubbed them back and forth at the same spot. That familiar little twinge in my groin reminded me that he had definitely excited me.

"OK! That's enough," I said and hooked my thumbs into the elastic waistband of my panties. Granny panties were what my daughter called them. They were still damp from my sweat and I spread my legs a little as I pulled the waistband out from my body so that I could get them off.

I wasn't ready for the sensation that I felt when the crotch of my panties pulled away from my pussy. The nylon band was stuck to my pussy and as I pulled my panties down the crotch peeled away dragging a few strands of my secretions with them. It reminded me of my high school days. I would come home from a heavy date and my panties would be stuck to me with my dried secretions.

"He did get me excited," I admitted. "Now, stop acting like a schoolgirl. Stop it!" I admonished myself and swung my arm to throw my panties into the basket as I passed by on my way to the bathroom.

My arm stopped in mid- swing and I brought my sweaty panties up to my face and inhaled their scent. I could smell my arousal on the crotch even through the odor of urine and sweat. Again, my mind flashed back to my high school days when one of my rituals was to masturbate on my bed with my soiled panties lying on my face so I could smell my sex.

"Damn it woman! You're reverting to your childhood. Now get yourself together and get on with your life as a married woman."

I turned on the shower to let the water get hot. I sat down to pee and, again I flashed back to my high school days and another of my after-a-heavy-date-rituals. Reaching down I pinched my already stuck together pussy lips tightly together and let my urine flow. My scalding hot urine filled my pussy until I couldn't hold it anymore and it found its way out through one of the folds in my lips.

When I was girl, I used to hold it inside me until I felt like my entire pussy would burst from the pressure. Today, my grown up mind was thinking "vaginal infection" so I let it go but not before the memories of my teenage sexual rituals almost overpowered me.

I didn't bother to wipe myself since I was going directly into the shower. When I stood up, a little of my urine ran down my left leg from where it had collected while I was sitting. I watched it trickle down behind my knee. When it reached my calf, I lifted my right leg and wiped it off on the top of my foot.

The shower felt wonderful. I sat bent over on the seat and let the hot water cascade over the back of my neck and down over my body. I reflected on what I had done, or not done, over the past few hours.

Yes, I was pissed off at Danny but that was no excuse to try to expose myself to an almost stranger and to allow myself to think that I was allowed to break my marriage vows because of my anger.

Shifting my position, I leaned back against the wall of the shower stall and allowed the stinging, hot spray to pound on my breasts and my stomach. Looking down I could see that there was a lot more sag and two rolls of fat that were not there a few years ago.

"I'm still pretty," I thought. "I just don't take the time to fix myself up. I'm just too busy with work and everything."

I let my fingers slide down to my pussy and I again pinched my lips together. I hadn't masturbated in 15 years or so but I felt the desire to do it now. With my left hand holding my lips together, I inserted my right index finger between my lips and just below my clitoris. I began to alternately squeeze and pull my lips and hook my finger up under my clitoris and rub the bottom of it with the tip of my finger.