Seduction of Laura Branson
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2004 by Amanda Pierce

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - The sexual oddessy of a forty-seven year old housewife in search of sex and love.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Reluctant   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Cheating   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Slow  

A few days later found Laura shopping in a shoe store. When her insecurities waxed, she often would visit a clothing or shoe store and buy a new outfit or pair of shoes. She had already glanced over the conservative styles which she usually bought, but her thoughts of Helen Van Stilling had nudged her toward the strappy, higher heeled styles which she had not worn in a decade. She was examining a pair of open toed heels when a voice from over her shoulder commented, "Those would be most appropriate for a woman with stunning legs... like yourself."

The accent was French, cultured.

She turned to face a handsome man, at least twenty years her junior, unruly shock of blonde hair and intense blue eyes, broad shoulders and a smile she could simply not ignore.

"Wow, you must really need to sell some shoes," she smiled back.

"Not really. It's just that, here, I don't often get to meet beautiful women. Most of our clientele are either, how you say, teeny boppers or college girls."

"Well, you certainly couldn't mistake me for either of those."

"You're quite right. Girls are one thing. A real woman is something else again."

"Are you always this forward with your customers?"

"I'm sorry if I offended..."

"No, you..." Laura felt herself blush, "... you just caught me unaware."

"A woman unaware of how attractive she is? I can't imagine."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," she laughed slightly, self deprecatingly, as she often did when receiving a compliment.

"Yes, I imagine you to be a woman full of surprises," he responded.

Again Laura reddened. She hadn't had a man flirt with her in years, certainly not one who was young enough to be her son.

"What is this, make an old ladies day?" she smiled.

"No, it's tell a beautiful woman how very attractive she is day."

"Maybe you'd just better sell me a pair of shoes"

"Of course," he replied waving her to a chair. "Would you like to try on those?"

"Oh I don't think they're for me."

"And why not?"

"I haven't worn anything like that in years."

"Maybe you should."

"I..." Her eyes found his and for a second, her heart fluttered. "Oh, all right, it won't hurt to try them on."

He gently removed her right shoe, placing her stockinged foot on the angled stool, his hands soft and warm on her ankle and foot. He placed the sizer under her foot and made the measurements.

"Size five," he smiled. "Delicately small."

"Well, I am only..."

"Let me guess. Five-three."

"And a half," she added, noting the iridescent quality of his irises, how the light seemed to make the color swirl when he smiled.

"I'll go get this in a five and return shortly."

She watched him disappear into the back, chiding herself for her momentary infatuation.

"That was quick," she commented as he returned taking the new shoes from the box.

"I wouldn't want to keep a lady waiting. Especially one so attractive."

"How old are you?" she laughed.

"Twenty-six."

"Well, I'm forty-seven and old enough to..."

"Old enough to know when a compliment is an empty one and when a man really means it."

"I'm also married."

"So I noticed. Happily?"

"Yes, quite, so..."

As she felt his hands on her ankles, Laura's eyes actually closed momentarily, the sensation soothing, even mildly erotic. One hand went behind the calf of her leg for support as he slipped her tiny foot into the shoe. Her lips pursed with a tiny intake of air. Her eyes opened to find him smiling.

"You have lovely legs."

"The other shoe please," she chided him.

She walked to the mirror, turning one way then another to view the shoes from several angles. They were certainly unlike any she had worn in a long time. The strap hugged her ankle while the open design showed off her tiny feet and toes.

"Are they... too much? I mean, for a woman my age?"

"They accentuate your shapely legs and sensuous feet. A beautiful woman needs only concern herself with displaying her loveliness. Age doesn't matter."

"Why thank you... ?"

"Jullian. Jullian Lavois."

"Thank you Jullian."

"Ah, but you have me at a disadvantage."

"It's Laura. Laura Branson."

"Well Laura Branson, so beautiful and so happily married, may I show you some other shoes?"

"Keep those compliments coming and I may buy a half interest in the store," she laughed, bringing a chuckle from the young man as well.

"You're French?"

"Oui. A graduate exchange student. I work here on weekends to help pay expenses."

"Oh? Your major?"

"Architecture. I am spending a year in your country studying."

"And will you then be returning to France?"

"Perhaps. I have not yet decided."

He boxed the new shoes, then carefully reshoed her feet, taking an extra moment to allow his hands to caress her calf and ankle.

She handed him the credit card which he ran through the machine, had her sign, then handed her the shopping bag.

"Thank you Jullian. You've made my day."

"Quite the contraire, madam. It is you who has made mine."

She felt her heart flutter. "Well, good luck in your studies."

"Thank you. I am sure your husband will delight in admiring you in those shoes. Perhaps I will have the pleasure of meeting you again."

"I doubt it, but you've been very sweet. Thank you."

She started to exit, then stopped short as he added, "If you should ever decide you are not so happily married, I will be here."

She turned and walked away without speaking so he could not see the effect his words had had upon the forty-seven year old.

And all the way home, Laura could not get the young Frenchman out of her mind.

A little more than a week later, Laura and Charlie attended a jazz concert, perhaps the only musical interest they shared. He was normally a country fan while she preferred the pops artists of the fifties and sixties. Jazz however, particularly soft cool jazz played by a quartet or quintet was an experience that each could agree was stimulating yet relaxing. The group that evening was especially enjoyable, piano, drums, string bass and sax. At intermission Laura excused herself to visit the ladies room. The concert hall was small, the hallways outside narrow, so in returning, Laura found herself caught in a mass of bodies as others too were finding their way back to their seats. As she tried to manipulate a corner, the throng surged, pushing her backward where she bumped into someone behind her.

"I'm so sorry, I..." she said turning to apologize. "... why, it's you... Jullian."

"Ah, the lovely Laura Branson. You see out paths do cross again."

She reddened.

"You... like jazz?" she asked.

"Very much so. I played with a group in my country for a while."

"Really? What did you play?"

"Saxophone... very badly."

They both laughed. She noted his self confident manner, wished she could feel that way about herself. At that moment the crowd surged again and they were pressed against the hallway wall, he against her. She could feel his body, taut but not muscular, his cologne strangely tangy instead of sweet. She looked up into his eyes and his breath, fresh with a hint of clove, drifted down to her. Laura's breasts were compressed against his chest, her own breath irregular, her heart racing. She had never been this close to any man except Charlie. She felt their bodies compressed even more, a small gasp escaping her lips.

"Pardon," he said, but his slight smile told her he wasn't really sorry at all. "If I had known I would have the opportunity to not only meet you again, but to share such intimacy, I would have begun attending these concerts long ago."

"I... I have to go," she answered, the moment past, rationality returning.

"Ah, the husband to whom you are so happily married."

"Uh, yes, Charlie is waiting for me."

"Then I bid you adieu, Laura Branson. I hope you enjoy the concert."

"And you Jullian... It was nice seeing you again."

"The pleasure was all mine. May I see you back to your seat?"

"That... won't be necessary, but thank you."

With that they parted, but twice she looked back into the crowd trying to catch a glimpse of this outrageous and captivating Frenchman.

The following Saturday they went out to dinner at a small French restaurant Charlie had heard about at the office. Other than a momentary flash of the face of the handsome shoe salesman when she heard the restaurant served French cuisine, Laura gave little thought to Charlie's choice for dining.

They went beginning the main course when Laura saw Charlie look behind her and felt a presence.

"Mrs. Branson, what a pleasure to see you once again." The voice and accent were unmistakable.

She turned to find the Frenchman smiling down at her and Charlie. "Why, Mr. Lavois... uh, I'd like you to meet my husband Charlie."

"Mr. Branson," smiled the younger man, shaking Charlie's hand.

"Uh, Mr. Lavois works at Fleet Street, the shoe store in the mall."

"Yes, your lovely wife graced us with a purchase last week. I see you are wearing them tonight. On you they look splendid," he said, glancing down at her feet.

 
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