It was hot and my sun dress hugged the backs of my legs. I welcomed the cooler shade of the underground parking lot. It still felt like my own little secret. The high end grocery store had opened 4 years earlier, when I was pregnant, and the underground parking lot one level down seemed to be hardly used; I could always park in the front next to the elevator. Surely others had learned of the shaded convenience. But even after all this time, while people waited in the lot above for a space to open up, down here in the cool I could always find an excellent spot. While pregnant or towing a toddler I wanted the short walk, now I just wanted to get to the cool of the store air conditioning before my dress got so sticky from sweat that it clung to me in suggestive ways. I had worked hard to get my figure back, but I wasn’t interested in advertising it today.
I waited for the elevator on my side of the lot. The one thing I never did understand about this state-of-the-art store was why one or both of the elevators on this side were always out of order. You’d think after all the money they put into this place they could keep the elevators running. I was glad to see at least one was working so I didn’t have to walk to the other side.
I usually shopped with my daughter, now 3. Today my husband had a rare day off and was playing with her. She was usually pretty well behaved, but even so it seemed twice the effort to remember what I was shopping for and keep her amused at the same time. It was rather a luxury to shop alone and I took my time. I love her dearly, but I truly felt a piece of me had disappeared and I had become one of those parents who had nothing to talk about but their child and their inevitable developmental achievements. I used to be cultured, refined, sexy…
I pondered my love life, or lack there of, while browsing the specials on cantaloupes. They seemed ripe and ready to eat. I did not. Mike and I used to “hump” like rabbits. We couldn’t get enough of each other when we first started dating. Then I got pregnant. Then we got married. Then things changed. Sex with Mike began to feel like work, and I wasn’t interested in going through pregnancy again. I had experienced it, and I loved the results, but one was enough for me. So I didn’t exactly welcome sex now I had experienced first hand what it can result in. Mike picked up extra hours at work and we hardly saw each other. When we had free time, we were both more interested in taking a moment for ourselves than moments of intimacy. It’s like we lost the flavor for it.
Then about 6 months ago, something in me changed. It’s like my body awoke from hibernation. I started masturbating. I gave Mike subtle hints, and when he was smart enough to see what I was getting at, it was strange. It wasn’t that pure, urgency to touch, feel and explode with pleasure. It was more like a ritual and left me totally unsatisfied. My fantasies were more exciting than the real thing. And my fantasies had changed.
One evening when I couldn’t sleep, I caught an “adult” program while flipping through the channels. The acting was asinine. The actors were somewhat attractive in a Hollywood sense, but that wasn’t what held my attention. I caught it right at the point where two women were passionately embracing and was surprised. I had always thought of that as the male fantasy and ignored it. But something about watching them pleasure each other struck a chord with me. I felt myself watching and getting turned on at the idea of what it would be like with another woman. When the “boyfriend” showed up and joined in, I turned it off, it had ruined the moment for me. However, I was still sufficiently turned on and remembered the bachelorette gag gift I had kept in the back of my closet. It was a little vibrating dildo about the size of a hot dog (in a bun) in the shape of a little purple bug. It was cute so I kept it, but had never used it before. That night, while thinking about the women I saw on TV, I used my “bug” for the first time and had the best orgasm I had had since before the baby. Before the marriage for that matter. It was interesting how much women were dominating my fantasies now. As I stood in line at the checkout, I flushed a little at my own thoughts.
I was shopping on a different day than usual. So most of the checkout people I knew by name weren’t working. I had recognized one familiar face and instinctively moved to her line, even though it was a bit longer than the rest. As I waited my turn in line, I realized I had turned myself on a bit thinking about my private sex life, and felt a growing longing to share my fantasies with another in a way that Mike could never provide.
That’s when I noticed the bag girl. I had never seen her before, and was surprised she even caught my eye. She must have been in her early 20s, and belonged to the “body art” generation. Her dark hair was dyed blond and styled in that faux Mohawk way the fashionable young men were all wearing it. But it was a little wilder than the current style. She had those holes in her ears that reminded me of African tribes; a large “spacer” placed in the earlobe to create a hole the size of a silver dollar. I didn’t really understand what they were for. Did they put something in there that wasn’t appropriate to wear to work? She had a tattoo peeking up through the standard issue store shirt collar. I couldn’t quite make out what it was, and as I was staring to see, I realized she was watching me watch her. What an embarrassing shock! I quickly looked down into my bag to find my credit card in preparation for my turn to pay.
But I couldn’t look away for long. I kept taking little peeks at her, as slyly as I could. Her name was Hannah, which was unexpected. I thought for sure she would have a gender neutral name to match her appearance. Small and boyish in shape, I couldn’t help but notice the slight swelling of her breasts under her oversized shirt when I read her nametag. As I looked away again, our eyes met, and I knew she was aware that I was looking at her. But in that brief moment of the glance, I felt like I saw a welcoming look in her eyes. Not the hard look I expected. Had they turned off the air, the grocery store was starting to feel as hot as the parking lot outside.
I kept my head down as I waited for my groceries to be rung up, trying not to meet her eyes again. But I kept noticing her hands. Her nails were painted black, and were kept short. Although rather small and delicate, they looked strong and sure as she placed the items into my bags. What was happening? Why was I obsessing over this checkout girl? I was getting very confused as my skin started to prickle with excitement. I needed to get to the car to escape, and the processing of my credit card seemed to take an eternity.
Finally! I was handed my receipt and as I turned to place my wallet in my bag I fumbled it and dropped it by the cart. The contents went flying across the floor. As I scooped them up in a hurry, checkout girl collected my keys and handed them to me. Our fingers touched and a shock went through my body. I felt like I was on fire. She was staring at me saying something. The blood was pumping so fast in my head I couldn’t hear. Maybe she was asking me if I was ok? I nodded. And she took my cart! Oh lord, now what was I going to do? I realized that she had instead asked if I needed help out. Surely I could make it through the short elevator ride to the parking lot without embarrassing myself further. This poor girl must think I am some crazy housewife on prescription meds. I was acting so strangely.
Why wasn’t the elevator moving? I realized that the button wasn’t pushed. We both went for it together, and our hands brushed again as we touched the button simultaneously. I looked up to apologize and our eyes met before I could get the words out. She was standing so close I couldn’t breath. And then she got even closer. As the elevator began to descend our bodies met. I felt her lips brush mine as our breasts and thighs came together. She backed away and looked at me, and saw nothing but longing in my eyes. Our hands were still touching on the control pad and we looked down at the buttons together. Was it me or her who hit the “stop” button? I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. As the elevator jolted to a stop, she caught my arms over my head and pinned me back against the wall. I melted into her embrace and felt my underpants grow wet with excitement. Her hands felt their way down my arms to my neck, breasts then hips and I trembled. When her lips met mine again, I welcomed her tongue into my mouth. A jolt of heat spread through my body and I felt like I was on fire.
She was gentle, but hurried in her actions. She wanted me as badly as I wanted her. Her hands slid under my dress and I felt both her hands on my breasts again. They tingled to her touch and a fresh burst of heat found its way into my underpants. She lifted my dress over my hips and I could feel her rapid breath against my bare stomach as her head made its way down my body. I touched her soft face and ran my fingers through her hair as her lips touched my navel. She kissed the scar from my C-section delicately as she removed my panties. I shivered again, longing for her touch below.
Her tongue was warm and soft as she touched my nakedness, and I thought I would orgasm then and there. I held on for as long as I could as she used long then short strokes with her tongue and caressed me with her mouth. Mike had given me oral sex before, but it was uninspired and I had never felt anything like this. The waves of pleasure hit suddenly and rapidly and I quivered, grasping the rail on the wall to keep from sliding to the floor.
Then she was pulling my panties back up. She kissed my mouth again, long and gentle as she slid my dress back down. I stood there grasping the wall and the reality of what had just happened. She released the elevator stop and we began moving down again. I tried to collect myself as best I could, I wasn’t sure I could walk. As she helped me out of the elevator with my cart, I caught the eye of the lady just entering the elevator on the other side. She smiled a touch as we passed each other and I thought I caught a spark of knowing excitement in her eye. I was too enthralled, embarrassed, and overwhelmed in the moment to process the meaning in her look just then.
Hannah loaded the bags into my car and paused with the last one. She turned to me and smiled a genuine smile. I was still gripping the shopping cart for support and wasn’t sure if my legs would turn to jelly if I tried to walk the few feet to the car door. She placed her hands on mine and said
“Thank you, enjoy the rest of your day.” Then slid my hands off the cart and began wheeling it back to the store. I stared after her like a fool as I watched her disappear into the elevator.
My hands were still shaking as I turned the key in the ignition. Questions flooded my head. What had just happened? Was that real? What had just awaken in me? Would I ever be satisfied with Mike again after what I had just experienced? I had changed my shopping routine by a day and a whole new world had presented itself to me. What else would happen if I stepped out of the pattern of my life? Have those elevators ever really been broken?
