I had been afraid she'd get sore. Hell, I was sore!When we finally caught a plane three days later for San Francisco, we were warm friends. We ran into some delays at the airport because Sally's only form of identification was her out-of-date passport. On the passport photo, she was a sweet-looking seven-year-old.Sally's circumstances were duly explained, some telephone calls were made to my father's old law firm, and finally Sally was permitted to board with nothing more than the promise that she'd have her passport renewed before trying to travel anywhere outside the U.S.In the back of my mind, I worried that I was the only contemporary of Sally's that she'd yet encountered since age eight. Was this fair? Was I taking advantage? How was she supposed to judge young males if I was the only game in town?Well, we'd worry about that later. For now, we both seemed entirely satisfied with the status quo.San Francisco is a beautiful city, and although Sally had seen it before as a child,. Anyway I wasn't planning on doing anything about it.And then there was the physical contact. A mother's hug. A kiss on the cheek of her daughter's boyfriend. A soft breast suddenly pushed against my arm. A soft hand caressing my hair. Normal day to day contact that suddenly was something more.Again I responded. A hug held seconds longer than expected. A kiss that she'd expected on her cheek instead brushed her lips. A hand on her shoulder. We said nothing as we lured the other. We fucked each other with our eyes.And so a desire was slowly awakened. She morphed in my eyes from just another adult into a sexy woman. She started to appear in my dreams. She triggered wet dreams. I'm not sure what was happening in her brain. How she was rationalizing it.And the fact that she was married, that she was another man's wife, somehow added a taboo excitement that was unlike the desire I felt for her daughter. I realized I wanted her in part because she was married.And so it had finally gotten to.
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