Not asking if I enjoyed it.
"Sorry about the clothes, my
rushing, just wanted you when I first saw you. I'm not the genteel type. Not
like your Billy boy, huh?"
"I know, how about some tea?"
"Tea? Ha! Sure like I got tea.
Never drink it, coffee?"
After he left naked to the kitchen I
assembling what buttons I could find, bent one hook back on my bra, enough to
have it stay on, put my panty in my purse and the bra, blouse, skirt and shoes
back on. I walked into the kitchen and sat at his messy table while the water
boiled. He sat naked admiring my open blouse. More relaxed I again noted his
sinewy and muscular body realizing he had just been on top and in me.
Scooping instant coffee in a couple
of semi clean mugs he served coffee then went back and put his pants on.
Half-finishing the tasteless coffee, we walked to my car.
With the door open I
realized nothing bad was going to happen, I was free to go. He kissed me but
when he pulled back I closed the door and led him back to the bedroom, pulled
down his pants and told him to get in bed. The bitch whore was going to get
what she came for. Going to the bathroom I found a clean towel, wet it, went
back to the bedroom, and washed his pubic area but he didnít get excited.
He, like Darryl was a one hit wonder despite being a bucking bull for the first round. I orally stimulated him until at last the bull was up if not charging a skirt. I lay on the bed and told him to do me again. He re-pinioned me taking a while to finish. Vixen unafraid squealed a climax of delight. After he finished I wiggled out from under him, got up, dressed as best as I could and left him lying in bed spent.
Once home I vowed to never see him again while I showered myself clean.
When he calls Iím going to say I made a mistake, No Iíll say we got what we wanted and Iím too old for him. No, just donít take the call. No, tell him it was wonderful but it was a one-time thing.
So I told myself. For a week, however, he didnít call. His eventual call at the office caught me off guard. Despite myself I was glad. For a week Vixen remembered his strong arms and my pounding on the bed.
He told me to come to his house
right then and there, saying he was thinking of me and wanted me that instant.
Despite my vow and worrying about not using a condom I went. I don't know why.
It wasnít Vixen who agreed to see him, it was the thought at least someone
wanted me, the bitch whore.
I tripped a trap and was in his snare.
I became his beck and call sex object. The sex was rough but the roughness was more attitude than physical. While uneducated and crude he had a peasant's shrewdness. He knew when to switch from being rough to feigning kindness, saying how much I meant to him and how he was changing from what he learned being with me. He captured my will, not my heart. He led. I was not to think but do. Obeying him made me feel wanted, better than being ignored, I told myself in justification.