Richard Travis - Another suck wife

"But she…"

"She was great when she wanted me. Hell, there was nothing she wouldn't do, or let me do to her. It wasn't until after we were married that the real Doris began to emerge."

Kitty thought of Sarah Bennit and Harold. They were probably enjoying something like this right now, she thought. Then she smiled. It wouldn't dawn on Harold until later that it was all a fake. But she didn't want to think about Harold, not now.

"Where did you meet James?" she asked, unable to see anything the two men might have in common.

"We went to college together."

"College? James went to college?"

"He graduated from law school with honors. He just didn't like practicing law. Preferred working outdoors, living free. I'm not sure he didn't make the right choice."

"He never told me he was a lawyer," Kitty said. "Don't tell him I told you. He's not too proud of it."

"Then he must know Doris," Kitty said.

"He introduced me to Doris. After James became convinced I was going to make a career of politics, he said she would be just right for me. And she was, as far as politics was concerned. She's a real pro."

"And then she met a politician she thought offered her a better future," Kitty said.

"You got it."

Kitty laughed. "I think she used poor political judgement."

"Only when she tangled with you." Tim smiled. "Actually, Doris knows the political world better than anybody I know. She can dish it out, get what she wants, get even with enemies. That's one thing that bothers me about tonight. Doris always gets even. I'm afraid she'll look for a way to get even with me for what you did to her and Bud."

"How can she get even with you now?"

"I don't know, but if know Doris, she'll find a way."

"You worry too much." Kitty smiled. "Let's go to the water bed and think of other things."

It was Tim's turn to laugh. "Is there no end to your heat?"

He gave it to her as she wanted it, slow at first, building up tempo as her breathing became more deep, more desperate. She wrapped her logs around him, pulling his cock in to the hilt, refusing to let go as she ground her body into his, thrilling to the feel of his hard cock trapped inside her hot pussy.

He grabbed each cheek of her ass and tugged, patted, poked his finger between ass-cheeks, then around to the wet lips of her cunt.

He propped her up dog-fashion, ramming her face into a pillow and plunged his cock in deep. Soon her cries for more wakened.

He came one last time, then fell on his back, completely spent. The music continued. The gurgle of the water bed subsided.

And then the phone rang.

Tim reached for it and listened, saying nothing.

Even in the dim light Kitty could see the deep worry creases on his face after he hung up.

"It was Doris," he said. "She says I'm not to see my children again."

Harold hadn't always been a dynamic, hard driving business tycoon.

It was Kitty who catapulted him into the leadership role he deserved.

She did it after getting tired of listening to his whimpering complaints about being overworked then overlooked for promotions and salary increases. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life caressing him as she would a child, holding a warm hard nipple next to his lips and inviting him to suckle.

"There, there," she would say, softly, in a songlike voice.

Then she would fondle him until his limp cock stood proud. Sometime he took it from there but Kitty frequently guided his cock into her hot pussy.

"What a man!" she would exclaim, either during a real climax or during a faked climax. Harold never knew the difference.

Then she would fondle his cock again and lick his withered prick-staff until it began to rise again. She would exclaim, as if he'd worked some kind of masculine miracle.

She would hold his erect cock and climb on top, doing the job herself, all the while whispering the inspiring endearments of the totally satisfied to her well-performing mate.

As soon as he came, she would kiss his lips in gratitude, cleanse his body with tongue and towel, then lie beside him as if totally satisfied, totally exhausted.

"You're too much, Harold!" she would say, urging his ego up. "Too much!"

Then she would listen patiently as he would, once again, go over his list of complaints against a greedy company that wanted profits only for itself.

"You're too good for them, Harold," she would say. "One day you'll have a chance to prove it."

"How? When?" he would ask. Finally after spending weeks pampering his ego, building his confidence, listening to his self-pity, all the while catering to his every sexual fantasy, she told him – giving him the shove he needed to gain independence.

"[Missing text] own business, Harold," she advised. "Start your him. You can do it! You can do anything!"

Harold didn't believe he could do it, but he believed in Kitty. If she said he could do it, he gradually became convinced he actually could do it.

And he did.

Now, after five straight years of building his business higher and higher, he had gotten the reputation in the business world of a dynamic leader who could speak the language of the businessman and produce results. He was independent, his own man.

But was he?

When he returned home to see Kitty, after two weeks with Sarah Bennit, he looked more beat, more filled with self-doubt, than Kitty had ever seen him.

"What is it?" she asked, serving him a glass of wine as if he were a guest in the house.

"I just needed to get away for an hour or so," he said.

"Away front what?"

"The office, the constant prodding…"

"Drink your wine and relax," she said. "Everything will work out."

It was the middle of the afternoon. Kitty wondered if he had purposely avoided visiting her at night, or if Sarah Bennit had forbidden his visiting her at night.

"I'm not so sure," Harold said sadly. "I'm not at all sure. Business is off, way off, for the first time in five years."

"It's just a slump. Things will turn around," Kitty said, still not sure she wanted to hear his sad story.

She went to the bedroom and changed into the only one-piece swimming suit she had. She needed to get in the water, without being provocative. From Harold's droopy eyes and turned-down mouth, she figured he hadn't been pampered in bed for quite a while. She didn't want to arouse him now.

He followed her to the pool, sitting in a deck-chair with a fresh glass of wine, and watched her glide gracefully across the water.

"It's even worse than I've told you," he said, after Kitty got out and began drying herself. "There's a chance I'll lose the business."

Kitty decided she didn't want to hear it.

"I've got to get out of this wet suit," she said, heading for the bedroom.

Harold followed her. She started to remind him that they were no longer living as man and wife and ask him to wait in the living room. But it seemed like a silky gesture. He was low enough already. No sense kicking him.

She skinned out of her suit as he sat on the edge of the bed admiring her body. In spite of her reluctance to listen to his sad story, or even to continue their conversation, Kitty was flattered by his attention to her physical charms. She wondered if he admired Sarah's body that much.

She took her time selecting the blouse and shorts she would put on, feeling his eyes crawl over her tanned flesh.

"No white marks," he said, smiling for the first time. "I see you still sunbathe in the raw."

"When there aren't guests," she replied, gently reminding him of his status.

His smile vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the long face of the tormented.

"We've got one chance to make out," he said, eyes lowered.

She laid out blouse and shorts and went for clean panties and a bra, determined to get dressed and get him out. He belonged to Sarah now. She could have him.