J. McKenna - Wanted - Kept Woman

Suzanne had been far too horny to call Wendy as she had promised she would. Instead, she stripped down, grabbed her trusty vibrator and jumped into bed. She had only to touch the buzzing tool to her clit to bring herself to her fourth orgasm of the night. The image of Brian, looming over her, remained fresh in her mind.

She took more time with her next orgasm, letting it build, imagining Brian touching her. Her clit seemed raw and distended, yet she couldn’t stop. She put down the vibrator and used her fingers, gently coating herself with her juices, protecting her swollen clit. Her mind raced ahead to this mysterious island and what might transpire there. Her fingers moved faster—her world collapsed down to the naked body of Brian and her own burning need. When she came for the fifth time that evening, she arched her back and groaned loudly, not caring if anyone heard through the thin walls of her apartment.

Damn, he made her so hot! She had never experienced lust like that before. She would have done anything for him at that moment. What’s more, she trusted him completely—why, she couldn’t explain.

She hoped he wouldn’t betray her.

The phone startled her. Suzanne rolled over and wiped her tangled hair from her forehead, coming down from her post-orgasmic high. When she could breath normally again, she reached for it. The room reeked of her sex.

“Hello?” she croaked.

“Suzanne? Is that you? You sound funny. Did you just get back?”

“Um, yeah, pretty much.” She coughed to clear her throat.

“How did it go? Did you have fun? Did you fuck him? Come on, spill it, girl!”

“I’m not sure I can begin to describe it,” Suzanne said. She sat up and wondered where to begin. She told her of the attack by the two men outside the restaurant.

“Oh, my god! Are you all right? Did you call the police?”

“No. I mean, yes, I’m all right and no, we didn’t call the police. We decided we’d rather go have dinner.”

“Jeez! That’s…wild. I’d’ve been a basket case.”

“Well, you should’ve seen him. He disarmed one and scared off the other in just a couple of seconds. I didn’t have time to really get scared.”

“So how about the rest of the evening?”

Suzanne filled her in on the dinner and the walk along the Embarcadero, but she couldn’t form the words to describe the ride home

“That’s it? No fucking?”

“No fucking. Sorry.”

Wendy seemed nonplussed. “Well…didn’t all that make you want to jump his bones?”

“Well, yeah, it did.”

“And he didn’t make any moves on you?”

Suzanne knew her friend wouldn’t let it go, so she invented a more plausible explanation of the events in the limo. “Well, in the limo on the way home, he did…um…” How could she describe what happened?

“Come on, spill it, girlfriend!”

“Well, he, um, made me come.”

“Did he fuck you?”

“No.”

“He didn’t? So, it was just a hand-job? Or maybe…? Oh, you’ve got to tell me! I tell you all about my adventures!”

Suzanne tried to explain, as best she could, how Brian made her climax in the car and the sensation of being under his control.

“Oh my god! You just lay there, letting everything hang out while the butler opened the door.”

“You mean driver.”

“Whatever. God, girl, you got it bad!” Suzanne paused. “So, um, what did he think of your little surprise?”

“Oh, I’d say he liked it.”

“See? But it sounds like you didn’t need to give him any encouragement. I can’t believe he didn’t fuck you.”

“I can’t either. I wouldn’t have stopped him, that’s for sure.”

“So I guess you had to resort to good ol’ Battery Boyfriend then, huh?”

Suzanne snorted. “What do you think?”

Wendy’s laughter echoed down the phone line. “Did he say if he wanted to see you again?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. He invited me to his private island .” She emphasized the last two words.

Wendy squealed. “That’s perfect! Tell me all about it. Think you’ll finally get laid?”

“I’d better!” If she didn’t, she’d be catching the first boat to the mainland. “I don’t know much about the island. He said it’s in a lake up north and that it’s very secluded.”

“So, do you like this guy? I mean, really like him?”

“I’d have to say yes.”

“You’d better pull out all the stops, lady. You don’t want to get all coy and shy on this guy. When he makes his move, you’d better drop down and spread ’em!”

Suzanne laughed at the mental image. She needed no encouragement that was for sure. “Goodnight, Wen. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“’Night, dear.”

November began with an Indian summer’s grace, with temperatures still in the high seventies and only a light breeze to warn of the coming rainy season.

At the warehouse, they were experiencing a whisper of the Christmas rush, as orders slowly increased over the post-school-opening letdown. But Suzanne could hardly concentrate on her duties. Her mind kept flashing back to the limo ride, Brian’s strong hands, the way she felt in his presence. Like a teenager again.

She couldn’t eat and sleep came fitfully. Sometimes her dreams were about the two of them on this mysterious island, running naked through the trees, teasing each other. Other times, she was the damsel in distress, being protected as her fierce warrior battled demons and thugs. But the dream that eluded her, though she desperately wanted it, was about their lovemaking. Oh, she came close many times. The dreams had the same theme—Brian would be holding her, his hands possessing her and her clothes would fall away from her body. In each case, however, something would interrupt them. A phone call. The doorbell. Once it was even Wendy, who came in to tell Suzanne she knew what she had to do to land Brian.

“Wendy,” she had screeched in her dream, “can’t you see I’m busy !”

For some reason, her mind couldn’t conceive of Brian’s lovemaking, as if comparing it to her past lovers would be inadequate somehow.

So, she drifted through the days, waiting for Brian’s call and fearing that he wouldn’t.

“Maybe he chose someone else for this island getaway,” she wailed to Wendy. It was Tuesday, four days after her last date with Brian. “Why doesn’t he call me?”

Wendy poured her another glass of wine and sat back. “Now, Suze, he’ll call. He’s just a mysterious guy. Maybe he likes the woman to anticipate a little.”

“Squirm is more like it!”

“He’s a busy man. Maybe he was called away to solve a supply problem in Malaysia or something.”

“He doesn’t have a plant in Malaysia!” she cried.

“Okay, okay. Calm down. You know what I meant. Would you like me to track the guy down? I could call him at his office and tell him in no uncertain terms—”

“Don’t you dare!” Suzanne looked horrified.

Wendy had to grin. “I wouldn’t really do that. I’m just pulling your chain a little.”

“I’m not in the mood.” Suzanne crossed her arms under her breasts. “Look, Wen. You get guys all the time, so you can toss away the bad ones and hang onto the good ones…”

Wendy snorted.

“…but I don’t date that much. So when I finally find a good one, I want to hang onto him.”

“Too bad you didn’t fuck him. That always seems to bring them back.”

“He didn’t want to!” Suzanne said with exasperation. “No, he wanted to, he just, um, didn’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“I think he was testing himself. Maybe me too, for all I know. He had me all puddled down there on the leather seat, spread open and ready for him and we got to my apartment, which kinda broke the mood.” She had trouble explaining it, how she vibrated to his every touch, anticipated the lovemaking that she knew would come eventually.