J. McKenna - Wanted - Kept Woman

“But he’s being coy, the bastard. He continues to kiss my nipples, even the sides of my throat, my ears—you know how I love that—and keeps his cock just out of reach. I mean, he’s like a half-inch away and I’m pulling at it and trying to scrunch down— anything to get that man’s cock in me, you know?”

Suzanne, eyes tightly closed, could picture it all right only she was the one on the bed, not Wendy, trying to pull this monster cock to her aching cunt. She was going to come soon now, very soon.

“So I’m starting to get vocal. I’m starting to cuss and say things like, ‘Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.’ I’m stroking his cock now too. I love the way my hand feels on it. I can barely get my fingers around it.

“He lets me pull him toward me. He kisses me, softly, not like you’d expect from a big macho guy like Jerry. He kinda nibbles at my lower lip—I just love that! Meanwhile, my mind is elsewhere, ya know. The head of his cock is just parting my lips. I’m so wet now it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.” Her eyes are closed tightly, playing the scene out in her head, her fingers working steadily.

“Suddenly, and I’m telling you I was caught by surprise, he thrusts it right up into me a ways. My pussy was wide open and grabbing at him. I let go and he shoved that tool right up inside me.”

Suzanne groaned aloud and bit her lip as she came hard. Her fingers held her throbbing clit tightly as the orgasm rocked her. Flashes of light sparkled the inside of her eyelids. Dimly, she was aware of the wet sound Wendy made, stroking her own clit. Her speech began to slow as she concentrated on her own orgasm.

“I came so hard I thought…I was going to die right there. It was…amazing. And he didn’t stop… He kept pounding into me, pounding, pounding… I came again…and again. Then he thrust hard and…I could feel his cock spurting into me, gallons it felt like… I can’t tell you how that made me feel, to have him so deep inside, coming and coming and…oh God… I’m cooomming!”

Wendy shuddered and grabbed herself tightly. For several long minutes, the two women sat there, facing away from each other, basking in the glow of their orgasms. Finally, Wendy sat up and adjusted her clothing. Suzanne pulled up her pants and zipped them. She stood and moved her chair back into position. They looked at each other, smiling.

“And that was my date with Jerry,” Wendy said quietly, her body limp with relief.

Suzanne grinned. “Thanks for sharing. I feel much better now.”

“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me…” She disappeared into the guest bathroom. Suzanne went to her private bath to clean up as well.

“Are we still seeing Jerry?” she said a few minutes later when they had resettled themselves on the couch. Suzanne felt a small ownership of him now.

“Well, yes, off and on. Mostly off. As I said, he’s rather self-centered. I think he loves himself more than he could ever love a woman. That doesn’t work for me.” She batted her eyes at Suzanne. “But, I keep him handy just for the occasional sex.”

They laughed together. Modern women enjoying their sexuality, just like men.

“That’s too bad, Jerry sounds like a keeper, conceited or not. Maybe you could send him my way when you’re not using him. I don’t think my standards are quite as high.”

“Hey, I don’t ask much—I just want a man who’s sensitive, caring, well-hung, strong, generous, sexy, funny, intelligent…”

“Sounds like an ad in the personals,” Suzanne teased.

“I’m not above that! I’ve met some nice guys there. Well, a few anyway. Hell, that’s why I’ve encouraged you to try it—god knows you’re not going to meet anyone in the warehouse.”

“Oh, that reminds me, I found the oddest ad today in the Bayside Weekly ! Here, I’ve still got it.”

Suzanne fished the tabloid out of her purse and folded it to the right page. “Here. ‘ Wanted: Kept woman…’ Isn’t that strange?”

Wendy scanned the ad. “Oh, boy, he’ll get thousands of responses, don’t cha think? Women love the rich.”

“Or just a pervert, trying to lure in gullible women.”

“I don’t know. You’ll never know unless you call.”

Suzanne was shocked. “I’m not going to call! I’m not that desperate!” But she was thinking to herself, He’d never want me—he’s looking for someone like Wendy.

“Why do you say that? Come on, this is me you’re talking to! You’ve told me many times you’d marry for money! Maybe this is some rich old guy like that guy who married Anna Nicole Smith, you know? She ended up with forty million or something. You should at least call and find out more.”

“I’m not answering that ad. I’m sure he’s a troll. He probably looks like Steve Buscemi, you know, the actor with all the crooked teeth?”

“You always expect the worst! What could it hurt to find out?”

Wendy was right, Suzanne knew. She didn’t really think he’d be ugly. She feared he would turn out to be like Sam.

The irony , she thought, is that I liked the way Sam took charge .

At first, anyway. He had strength and a certain amount of aggressiveness that she mistook for ambition. She had wanted to feel protected, let the man make the hard decisions. But Sam was a slave to his own jealousies. What started out as an ideal relationship in her mind quickly degenerated into anger, recriminations and abuse.

It had been more than two years since their ugly breakup, made worse when Sam wouldn’t leave her alone. Even after the divorce, he’d hung around, scaring off other men and acting possessively toward her. Late last year, he violated a restraining order and slashed the tires on her car. She had caught him at it. She ran out to the parking lot, yelling at him and he’d reacted, punching her, cracking the orbit of her eye socket and giving her a black eye. She’d had him arrested. The judge gave him nine months in county jail. Serves you right, a sshole.

The experience caused her to retreat into her shell, putting on some weight to hide herself from men. It didn’t solve her problem, of course—she ached with loneliness. She wanted to date again. She needed a man—just not one like Sam.

“Come on, don’t be a wuss.”

“He doesn’t want me,” Suzanne said stubbornly.

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m too…too—you know!” she wailed, waving a hand up and down her body.

Wendy looked at her, shocked. “Now, Suzanne, I’ve known you all my life and I’m telling you, you look great. Okay, maybe you’re carrying a couple extra pounds…”

“Oh, come on! I’m chubby!”

“No, you’re not—you’re a beautiful woman! You’ve got style and grace and a great sense of humor—”

“Oh, yeah, all the hallmarks of a fat chick. ‘She has a great personality’,” she mimicked in a high voice.

“You’re not fat!” Wendy sat back, shoulders slumping.

Suzanne bit her lip. “Wen, let’s face it—if I’m not fat, what am I? ‘Pleasingly plump’?”

Wendy shook her head. “Well, I disagree…but if you feel that way, why don’t you do something about it?”

She had her there. Suzanne had to admit she’d given up on herself. It was too easy to just go to work and come home and not think about trying to be attractive anymore. She could put on some different makeup and lose the weight if she wanted to. If she had a reason to.

“I know, I know. I’ve read all the articles—I use the weight as a defense mechanism to keep men away from me.”

“Yes, you do. But you tell me all the time how lonely you are.”

“I know. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.” Suzanne was feeling a little guilty about the cheeseburger she’d had for lunch. “That’s why I could never answer an ad like that—I’d just be setting myself up for a big disappointment.”