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I met Sherrie at a local theatre where we both volunteered as ushers. She was about ten years younger than me and very easy to talk with. It didn’t start at all sexual. Sherrie and I usually talked about our spouses, kids, and general small talk. Not at all anything you could call flirting, but we always had pleasant conversations every time we worked the same performance. A couple weeks ago before a performance, we were talking while waiting for our pre-show briefing when the assistant house manager was asking for help deciphering the sign-in sheet. We all got joking about names, and for some reason I still don’t understand, I blurted out, “Who do you want me to be? I sometimes write as Brad Carpenter.” Nobody seemed to pay any attention to that, and we all went on with our preparation for the show. When they closed the last door between the lobby and the theatre proper, the ushers needed to take a seat as near as possible to the isle they had been working. Lucky for me, there were two empty seats on the a isle , right where I had been stationed . I dropped into one. Just as the house lights went dark, Sherrie took the one next to me. Nothing unusual about that. I had been working the middle of the a isle , and she had been working the top. About ten minutes into the first act, her knee pressed lightly against mine. I always have prided myself on being a gentleman, so I moved my knee a few inches away. A few minutes later, her knee was back again, pressing harder. I couldn’t be sure if she was just getting comfortable, or if it was intentional. I turned my head slightly, trying to sneak a peek. She had her head turned to face me directly. She winked one Caribbean blue eye at me. I nearly choked but managed to stifle it into a subdued cough. She put her knees together a polite few inches from mine and the rest of the first act was uneventful. We each had duties that kept us apart during intermission, then we returned to the same seats for act two. As the lights came up on stage, her knee pressed against mine again. It felt very nice, so I decided to maintain the contact as long as she wanted. My mind wandered away from the play as I pondered why this cute, strawberry blonde, married, mother of two wanted to play kneesies with me. She touched the back of my hand and whispered in my ear, “Can we talk for a few minutes after the show?” Not Ümraniye Escort wanting to interrupt the play, I just nodded. After the show, I sent a text to my wife, “Some ushers are getting together for drinks. I’ll be home a little later than normal.” It was the truth, and I couldn’t be responsible if she assumed that it was a larger group. Sherrie and I met at the bistro across from the theatre and found a sort of private booth near the back. Once we were seated , I said, “I’m flattered, but don’t understand what got into you back there.” “I recognized that name that you dropped before the show. Those stories that you write, are they published on Lush Stories?” “Well—yeah, but how did you know that?” “Silly question. I’ve read all your stories, and I follow you there. When you admitted that you are Brad Carpenter, I had to find a way to get your attention.” “You sure did that. Did you enjoy my stories? “Did I ever. They read like they were real events in your life. Were they?” “Sherrie, I’ve never talked to anyone in person about my stories, and we don’t really know each other very well.” “We can fix that. Were they?” “Not exactly. Friendly Neighbor was based on a real event, but the sex was a ‘what could have happened.’” “And The Wager? That was so hot. It had to be real.” “Sorry. That was pure fantasy. I wish it would happen, but it never did.” “Not even the creampie eating?” “Especially not that. My wife loves for me to go down on her, but only when she feels clean. I have tried to psych myself into just going for it, but I always get post-orgasmic blues. I’ve asked Lucy to force me to eat her creampie, but she refuses. She won’t even just ask. She says it’s too messy.” “My husband is like that, too. But, he’s worse. He thinks that any oral sex is disgusting because ‘that’s where people pee.’ ” I thought about my wife and the vows I’d made to her, vows that I had never broken. I thought about Sherrie and the vows she had mad to her husband. I thought about her kids in college. I thought about my married kids and my grandkids. I thought about all the reasons to get the check and leave. Then a strange phenomenon took over. The phenomenon that God gave man a brain and a penis, but only enough blood to operate one at a time. I looked into Sherrie’s eyes, I looked lower and saw how her breasts tented the red Ümraniye Escort Bayan vest of her usher uniform. My mind conjured an image of my head between her thighs, and I imagined that I could smell and taste her arousal. My cock created its own tent in my pants and robbed my brain of its blood supply. I said, “Maybe we could fulfill each other’s fantasies.” “Brad, let me think about it. Talking is one thing, but doing is another. Right now, I need to get home.” “Talking is fine. Friend me on Lush. We can talk more there.” “Maybe. Good night, Brad.” “Brad is just a pseudonym. Why don’t you call me by my real name?” “I’ll use your real name in the theatre, but outside the theatre, you’re Brad to me. Good night, Brad.” “Good night, Sherrie.” # # # Over the next few weeks, we used Lush’s various private communication tools to flirt and discuss our growing attraction. Sherrie pried out of me which features of my stories were based on reality and which were the fantasy additions. She admitted that she and her husband Bill had become sweethearts in junior high and that she had only dated two other boys. Those were movie dates where her mother drove. We frequently got quite turned on when we talked about our fantasies. One day we had this exchange:Sherrie, have time to talk? Sure, I’ve got some time. Hubby’s at a lodge meeting for the next couple hours. I’ve been thinking about our fantasies. What about them? Would you like to act them out with each other? You mean for real? Why not? That sounds exciting, but I’ve never cheated. Me neither. But, is it cheating if we are just exploring fantasies we can’t get at home? I think it is. But, I’d really like to know how a tongue feels on my pussy. Would you really kiss me down there? I’ve imagined it so many times. I’d love to do it for real. How could we ever get time away from our spouses without them suspecting? I’ve got that all figured out. I’ll set up a phony email address and have it send us both a request to substitute usher at the theatre. Then we meet at the theatre and go to a motel . That should give us three hours. Four, if claim an usher get together after the show. Do you think it would work? Why not? Your Bill and my Lucy both support our ushering. The only catch is that we have to pick a show we have already worked so we know what happens. Escort Ümraniye OK. Set it up. # # # I was waiting in what was becoming our regular booth at the bistro across from the theatre when Sherrie walked in. We were both dressed in the usher uniform: black pants, white shirt, black necktie, and red vest. She paused at the door and looked all around. Her scan hesitated as our eyes met then she looked around the room three more times. Finally, she must have been satisfied that no one she knew was there, and she crossed to my booth. “Hi, Sherrie.” She sat across from me and said, “I am so nervous. Do you think anyone knows why we are here?” I reached across the table and took her hand. “Dear, dear, Sherrie. I’m sure that no one here suspects anything. Shall we leave?” “I’m too nervous. Can’t we have a drink first?” “Sure. That’ll leave time for the taxi to get here.” “Why not just drive? “I’m an obsessive planner. If anyone we know drives buy here, they’ll see our cars.” “Wouldn’t Uber be cheaper?” “I can pay cash for a taxi. Uber would show on my credit card. Let’s have that drink.” # # # Earlier that afternoon, I had registered and got a room on the third floor, well away from the elevator and vending. I wanted privacy more than ice. We used the card key to enter through the parking lot door. Sherrie’s body was tense, and her eyes darted around the room without staying on any one place for more than a second. My balls must have been having a campout because there was a tent in my briefs. I wanted her and wanted her now, but I could tell that she wasn’t ready. I pulled her into my arms and hugged her close, then leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. I maintained the hug and slowly, tenderly, kissed the bridge of her nose then each of her cheeks just below her eyes. Her body relaxed a bit. I briefly and gently kissed her lips. She relaxed a bit more. I kissed her lips again, lingering a bit longer. She sighed, and the tension drained further. Once more, I kissed her lips. She responded with the tiniest touch of tongue. I walked us sideways to the sofa and pulled us down to sit. We kissed again with just a bit more tongue. I pushed her shoulders back. “Sherrie, if you’re not ready for this, it’s okay. We can go now, and I’ll treasure your kiss and the moments when I held you in my arms.” “Kiss me again. Then I’ll decide.” I pulled her close and kissed her again. Even though her tongue was still meek, I was thrilled with her kisses. Her kisses were sweet and exploratory. Kisses like I hadn’t experienced since my first girlfriend in junior high. She gently pushed me away. “Please, Brad, I need to get up.” My heart fell.
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