J. McKenna - Wanted - Kept Woman

Even now, as he thought about her, he could feel his cock stirring. He smiled down at his lap. “Whoa, fella, don’t get too excited. We’ve got lots of women to see yet.”

He shook his head. Here he was, a grown man, talking to his penis. He took another sip of his drink and tried to put all of the women out of his mind. Just for now. Just to help clear his head. He stood and went to the kitchen to freshen his drink. His cock caught in his pants and he tugged at his belt. His balls ached.

Brian returned to the couch, fresh drink in hand and absently allowed the image of Suzanne to return to his thoughts. Yes, she was special. To look at her, you wouldn’t think so, he told himself. She was pretty enough, sure. Maybe a tad overweight but that didn’t bother him. It was the way she moved, even while sitting down—the movement of her shoulders, her head. Like she had a secret she wanted to share with him. Or am I just crazy?

Unconsciously, his hand reached down to stroke his cloth-covered cock. Jeez, he was hard. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman did this to him. For a moment, he tried to concentrate on Barbara, the blonde. She would be worth dating as well, but his softening cock told him she didn’t have the power to arouse him like Suzanne did. He wondered why some women affected him like that, while others didn’t. Was it simply chemistry?

He sipped his drink, allowing himself to fantasize about Suzanne once again. Their date would probably start out quietly—a dinner, a few drinks. He wondered if she was submissive, as Rebecca had said he needed in a woman. He’d never really thought about it before, but he supposed he’d been thinking it without putting it in those terms.

Brian fantasized about Suzanne. Maybe she would be the type of woman who could enjoy letting him be the “master” of the house. He chuckled at the thought. He visualized coming home to a woman who could anticipate his needs. She’d be waiting there by the door, wearing a skimpy outfit, holding a chilled martini in one hand. She’d ask about his day and actually pay attention to what he had to say. She’d tell him she made dinner—or ordered it from a takeout. He wouldn’t care, as long as she took good care of him. Hell, for that kind of attention, he’d gladly support her. And nurture her and love her as well.

Or am I just a male chauvinist pig?

His cock didn’t care. It remained rock-hard, thinking about it. Still, he was a modern man. Would he get bored with a woman like that? Was he so shallow that he only wanted a shell of a woman? Would he value her less if she didn’t stand up for herself?

He couldn’t answer those questions right now. Maybe after he got to know her. But right now was the time for fantasy, he decided. Enjoy it because it’s often fleeting.

His hand returned to his cock and he rubbed it absently, enjoying the sensations rolling through his loins. His balls needed release. He took a final swallow of his martini and put the glass down. Unzipping his pants, he allowed his engorged cock to spring free. For some reason, he felt like a horny teenager again. Shrugging, he decided “what the hell”.

His fist began to stroke his hardened shaft, slowly at first, visualizing Suzanne kneeling between his legs, her lips partially open, eyes inviting. She would want to put her lips around his cock, but would wait to be asked. Or told. His thoughts were a jumble as he rubbed himself, faster and faster. His eyes rolled back in his head and he imagined it was Suzanne’s mouth causing the friction he felt. Or her hot, wet pussy. She might squat over him, pressing his cock into her, riding him for all she’s worth.

Brian could feel his balls twitching now, readying for release. His hand kept up its steady pressure. He closed his eyes, seeing Suzanne riding, or sucking or…

He cried out as a rope of cum peppered his shirt. He didn’t care. His head lolled back against the cushions and he waited for his breath to return to normal. Wow , he thought. That was pretty hot for a girl I haven’t even dated yet!

Suzanne was surprised when the call came from Rebecca—no more email, she was getting personal calls. She thought she’d ruined everything, though Wendy had thought otherwise.

“Suzanne? You’re in. You’re one of the seven finalists.”

“Wow. I’m…well, I’m stunned.”

“Why?”

“I thought I came on too forcefully when I talked to Bri—Mr. Armstrong. You know, he wants a more docile woman…”

“Oh, he’s a lot more complex than that. If you ask me, he’s just looking for a good fit. All this talk about a kept woman—I think it might’ve gotten in the way a little bit.”

“How do you mean?”

“He doesn’t want a woman who simpers and swoons in his presence or has no life without him. I believe he wants a woman who simply sees the world the way he does and enjoys letting him be a man.”

Suzanne expected there was more she wasn’t saying. The question was, did she want to find out? “So what happens next?”

“He’ll call you himself within two weeks.”

As soon as she hung up, she was on the phone to Wendy. Her girlfriend shrieked so loudly, Suzanne had to hold the phone away from her ear.

“That’s mar-vel-ous,” Wendy said, “just mar-vel-ous!”

“He’s going to call me in two weeks. That doesn’t give me much time to lose five more pounds!”

“Heck, don’t bother—sounds like he likes you just the way you are.”

“Yeah, right—I know I’m up against a bunch of skinny blondes. I need a little edge.”

“Oh, pshaw. You look good, really good. I’ve been thinking of putting the moves on you myself.”

“Oh, hush. I think I need another dress, though. You think?”

“Another dress couldn’t hurt. Something really sexy. Make him want to rip it off of you.”

“Stop, now—that’s your style.”

Twelve days later, Brian called Suzanne. She had just come in from work and was exhausted, but hearing his voice cheered her up immediately.

“Suzanne? Brian Armstrong. I’m glad you agreed to take my call. Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Oh, sure, Brian. I’d love to. It will be nice to finally meet you in the flesh.” As soon as she said it, her blush returned. “I mean…”

Brian swept past her unintentional double entendre . “And I’m really looking forward to meeting you. How about Friday night, say seven? My limo will pick you up.”

“Yes, that would be fine. Friday, then.” She hung up.

Suzanne called Wendy. “He called,” she said simply when her friend answered.

“Oh, my god, I’m so jealous. And horny! You’re going to have to tell me everything. Maybe I could come along and be a chaperone or something.”

“Ha ha. Wen, I’m terrified—do you think he’ll like me, I mean really like me?” Suzanne couldn’t help but get her hopes up, having come this far.

“Of course—who wouldn’t love you? You look great and you’re a great person. He must see that!”

Suzanne smiled. She had shed more than fifteen pounds in the last few weeks. Her work kept her from the gym, but she found she could get quite a workout on the warehouse floor. Plus, she stayed away from fatty foods. She did feel good, dammit. Now if she only felt confident about it.

“Wen, what am I going to say? How should I act? This guy’s a world traveler. He’s so sophisticated, he probably knows what each utensil is for at a formal dinner. I’m going to look like Ma Kettle.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. I meant an old frump. The point is, I’m scared shitless. I need some ‘class’ lessons—fast.”

“I don’t think so. He’s said all along, he doesn’t want a phony gal. He’s had enough of them. He wants a real American girl. That’s you.”