The Kept Woman

The Flatmate Wakes Up

I decided the best thing to do was wait it out. I lay there and let languor overtake me until I was drifting in and out of sleep. My body felt heavy and warm.

I'm not sure what it was that finally woke me. I had been sleeping deeply when I felt, I don't know, a change of atmosphere and started blinking back to wakefulness. I looked up to find the Flatmate staring down at me. We were still very intimately entwined. I was trapped by his gaze, unable to move, I was very aware of our bodies against each other. The press of my breasts against his chest, my hardening nipples, my arse in his hands, my very damp pussy against his still hard cock, the throb of my clit against my lace knickers, skin to skin, face to face. I felt charged and alive. The air practically crackled around us.

In an unspoken moment we both started to back away. His hand came off my arse, the other no longer trapped me against him. I pulled my arms away and we unwound our legs. We both shifted back, both to the far sides of our pillows. Neither of us spoke. We both waited, trying to judge the situation and each other. In the end I spoke up,

"Sleep well did you?"

"Until you wrapped yourself around me I did. After that it was like being smothered by a very warm ape. You're a furnace. I didn't know anyone could get that warm without combusting. Plus it would have taken a force stronger than God to remove you."

"You seemed to be sleeping pretty well when I woke up earlier."

"What can I say? You're a very easy woman to hold."

"Yes, I could tell you were starting to enjoy it." He didn't quite blush but laughed, trying to shrug it off.

"Well now I know why my flatmate risked the wrath of that bitch who calls him her girlfriend. You're certainly easy on the eye... and the hand.

Ah if only he hadn't mentioned my escapades with that boy, his flatmate. I could happily have stayed in bed with him all morning and then who knows where it would have gone? Mentioning his flatmate though? Bit of a mood killer.

I laughed and stood up.

"Lucky you, getting an eyeful and copping a feel. I would like to pretend that not a lot of men get that but I think it would be hard to claim based on recent behavior. Now, any chance you can get me my dress? If you remember that was the point in me staying here and and not just so I could press myself against you."

He laughed too and got up.

"Any time, darlin', any time."

I waited in the bedroom. The Flatmate greeted the boy and his girlfriend - obviously now having breakfast together - and asked to borrow a shirt. Then he went through to the boy's room. A few moments later and he was back, my dress crumpled up inside the borrowed shirt. I shook out the dress and started to unbutton the shirt I had borrowed for bed.

The flatmate turned though I don't know if it was out of embarrassment or to protect my "modesty." I dressed quickly and ran a hand through my hair and a finger under my eyes to wipe off the worst of last nights make up.

"Thanks for everything." I touched my gently on the shoulder to remind him I was leaving. He turned back around. Hands on his hips he considered me and said,

"It's a shame you know. I would have liked to have to have known you better."

"But under the circumstances that's a bit yucky?" He laughed and replied,

"A bit."

I stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"Another time, another place, who knows."

I left his bedroom and him standing there. The boy and his girlfriend were indeed eating breakfast together. I smothered my need to laugh. The girlfriend sneered and snorted at me so I bent to give her boyfriend a kiss and said,

"It was simply wonderful to meet you last night. I had a great time."

I left to the sound the the Flatmates laughter, the boys denials and the girlfriends shrill demands.

Blocked!

Ah the joys of being an expat. Facebook and twitter are both down over here and so, it seems, is The Kept Woman. I can write, I can post but I can't re read. Disappointing, I usually find most of my mistakes when I read through my posts afterward.

So I must apologise for poor grammar, word choice and formatting. I can't see so I cannot know. If you do spot anything that needs correcting do feel free to let me know at thekeptwoman@live.com

I promise I have two posts that I'm drafting up at the moment. One is what happens when the Flatmate wakes up and the other is my rather horrible Saturday night. Yes, the Idiot is back.

Kisses,

KW

XXX

Fifty

Do you know what this is? This is my fiftieth post.

My first post was The First Little Adventure, written on the 11th of March and now here we are at the fiftieth on July 14th.

There have been some ups and downs over the past 4 months, mainly my stupid tryst with the Captain and my disappointing nothing with the Idiot. Whispering my dirty secrets into your ears has certainly been an up.

Above all though and beyond all my foolish and fun behavior there is one man who warms my heart and soul like no other. Dear Alpha is my other half in a very real sense and I love him more deeply than my poor words can describe. I must show him off to you more often however as I suppose it seems very strange that I am so faithless. We are to go away together this weekend, I'll report back after.

I want to thank you all for reading and for the support you've shown. I love it when you make comments, email me or say hi on Twitter. Please do keep it up, tell your friends and keep on reading.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

The Kept Woman

Waking Up

I woke up on Wednesday morning straddling a large erection. Actually that makes it sound far worse than it actually was so let's back up a second.

I woke up on Wednesday morning with my arms and legs around a quite solid male figure. I was tucked up under his chin and he had his arms around me and his swollen cock tucked up against my pussy so that I was... riding? straddling? on? What word do I use here?... his very, very erect member.

I woke up slowly, forgetting exactly where I was. I snuggled a little closer thinking that Alpha must have come home (he's away on business at the moment). It was at that moment that I realised the person I was wrapped up with was demonstrably not Alpha. Alpha does not snore.

I opened one eye and tried to look up at my gentleman friend. Of course, the Flatmate. It came back to me then as my body became more aware of the situation I was in. His shirt, the one I was wearing, had ridden up in the night so that my breasts were pressed against his chest. As I stirred he grumbled in his sleep and pulled me tighter against him. I realised then that the tracksuit pants that he had worn to bed were missing and it was his erection poking through his boxers that I felt now. One of his hands was cupping my bottom and the other was around my back. I was, in a word, trapped.

I coughed a couple of times, trying to wake him up. He stirred but slept on. I, quite timidly and feeling a fool said "excuse me" but all he did was shhh me and continue snoring.

It was getting rediculous. I couldn't very well just lie in his arms until he woke up could I? Stupid, stupid me! Was the dress really worth this?

Actually, and to be honest, it wasn't all bad. He did feel very nice and reassuringly big and strong. The hand on my arse was comforting and somehow sexy whilst the rub of his cock against my lace covered pussy was attractively stimulating. I could feel myself getting wet. God, what if he felt how wet I was getting? No, this had to stop. How to do so?

The Theory Of Blowjobs

As I have said in posts before I am well known for two things. Great boobs and great head. The boobs thing is pretty much a matter of public record as I'm certainly not the type to keep them hidden away. Blowjobs though... ahhhhh I love to give head. Is there any other feeling in the world like hearing a man gasp, moan and call as he cums and knowing that it is all down to you?

Many men love to believe that blowjobs are a dominant thing. They think it makes them the top dog, the king, the stud. Oh how wrong they are.

Don't they know? Don't they understand that it is the female (or male, we're not homophobe here at The Kept Woman) who is in charge and in control? You decide the stroke, the speed, the style. You decide if you're going to make him cum quickly or if you're going to keep him lingering for hours on the cusp of that delicious release. You can tease, you can play, you can tempt. You can make it quick, whispering dirty nothings into his ear until blows. You can make it slow, with long, wet strokes that make him unsure where your mouth ends and your hands begin. You are the one giving pleasure and it's all down to you, your mouth and your hands. No one else.

The thrill and excitement of finding the right stroke, the right speed and the right pressure. Hearing that growl he makes when he goes from "yeah, I'm a stud, she's giving me head," to "Oh my god don't stop, that's amazing, the credit card is in my pants buy what you want just please don't stop, please don't stop, please don't stopohmygodohmygodohmygod."

Ha!

It's wonderful. I love how in control you are. I love that when you get it right you get it so right. I love the whole giving aspect to pleasure.

What do you like doing in bed? Giving head? Receiving? Straight up sex? Anal? Post to the comments section, the confessionals page or email me at thekeptwoman@live.com

I can't wait to hear!

Caught?

Walking out into the lounge I literally bumped straight into what was obviously the boys flatmate. Tall, cut and sexy as hell he was the physical opposite to the boy I had just slept with. He smiled wolfishly at me and took his time checking me out. I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Take a photo why don't you, it lasts longer."

He laughed and it thrilled me.

"I may just do so. Are you finished with him? It sounds like you've killed him." I shrugged and walked through to the kitchen. He followed me.

"Mind you, sounds like you were having fun yourself."

"Oh I can always make my own fun." He laughed again.

"I bet you can." I could practically hear him thinking "You dirty minx."

I stood on my tip toes to reach for a glass and he came up close behind me. He was close enough for me to feel the warmth of him but not close enough for us to actually touch. My skin goose-bumped and I shivered in spite of myself. I felt his breath on my neck and gripped the glass in my hand tighter so that I wouldn't turn round and kiss him. I shifted slightly to the right and bent, arse up, to get some water. The result of this was pressing my arse into his crotch. He leaped backwards in shock. Ha! I thought, not quite so cocky now are we.

We froze when we heard the front door open and close.

A querulous voice shouted a boys name - the man I was standing with or the boy in the bedroom?

"Shit!" He muttered. "It's the girlfriend."

I couldn't believe it and actually laughed. Whose girlfriend? This I had to see. I walked back to the lounge, glass of water in hand. I heard another oath from behind me but ignored it and stalked out.

The girl in the lounge stopped dead when she saw me. Tall and skinny with frizzy dark hair she was the antithesis of my pocket Venus curves and long blond locks. I smiled at her and said hi.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked in some mid euro accent. I just smiled and drank my water. She was infuriated and shouted out a male name just as the boy came out of the bedroom.

"What?" He said sleepily but instantly awoke in shock and horror as he saw me in my underwear standing opposite his girlfriend (his? I still wasn't sure which man would claim this Teutonic miss).

"Who the hell is she?" She screeched. The boy looked between us clearly having no idea how to explain me away. I was really worried I would start to laugh.

"Stop shouting. She's here with me. You really think he would have the courage to fuck around? Jesus, you already have his balls in a vice, do you need mine too?" The man from the kitchen put his arm around my waist and nuzzled at my neck, trying to make her believe we were fresh from his bed.

The girl stammered and apologized but sent me a look of pure malice anyway. I smiled benevolently and said,

"That's ok, anyone could make the same mistake. I would be jealous if I had such a hot boyfriend too." I flicked my gaze over the boy, her boyfriend, and she glowered even more at me. I felt a pinch at my waist to remind me not to be a fool.

"Steady on baby, you'll make me jealous." He nipped at my ear lobe and I snuggled closer. I turned to his ear as if whispering naughty secrets and muttered,

"Very impressive but my clothes are still on his floor. How will you explain those away?" He went still for a second then sprung towards action. Pushing me towards his bedroom with a lewd "I'll deal with you in a minute" he dragged the boy back into his room, rudely shutting the door on the girlfriend with a "I need to borrow condoms." I stood in the doorway watching the girlfriend.

"You shouldn't walk around in your underwear. It's so slutty." She grimaced at me.

"Neither of the men seemed to mind."

"I don't want my boyfriend to see you like that. Don't do it again." I shrugged to annoy her.

"He doesn't like girls like you. He doesn't like slutty girls." I laughed at that one but still said nothing which annoyed her further.

The flatmate came back out of his bedroom with condoms but without my clothes. He pushed me into his bedroom and closed the door behind us.

"What, so now we're going to fuck?" I said. He laughed at me and said,

"Hardly. I couldn't say I was getting condoms and then walk out with a pile of your clothes. They're hidden under the mattress."

"Great, I get to do a walk of shame in what? My underwear and high heals?"

"Well I wouldn't complain. It would be easy to get a cab." He teased. I shook my head.

"Look I can lend you enough to get home or just spend the night here and get your clothes in the morning once they've left for work." I looked warily at him.

"So now we're going to fuck?"

"God no. I'll stay on my side of the bed, you on yours. Nothing naughty."

"Riiiiiight." I said sardonically.

"Well I thought you would rather I said that than something along the lines of: You dirty slut, you really think I would do sloppy seconds? What on earth where you thinking by the way, didn't he say he had a girlfriend?"

"So it's my fault? Your poor flatmate was totally blameless? Led astray by my wicked and deviant behavior? Look forget it, just give me a shirt you hate and I'll get out of here. He can keep my dress as a souvenir." He gripped my arm.

"Not so fast. If you leave now she'll smell a rat. Girls don't tend to leave after just one round with me."

I pushed him off me and moved back so that we weren't so close. I wanted something to cover me as I was starting to feel totally exposed.

"Fine, whatever. You're a stud, I get it. Can you just give me something to put on? I don't usually have conversations in my knickers."

The flatmate brought out an old shirt of his and I pulled it over my head and rolled up the sleeves so that I could use my hands. To give him credit, he didn't perv whilst I dressed.

"Thanks." I said.

"It's fine. Sorry there's no where to sit but the bed. Honestly, if you stay tonight I swear not to touch you and you'll do my flatmate a favor as it will make his girlfriend less suspicious."

I looked at him carefully. I thought it was a little icky swapping beds so quickly but I wanted my dress as it was a favorite.

"Ok. But seriously; any touching and I'll scream."

"I know, I know. Don't worry. Which side would you like?" I chose the side nearest the door and hopped under the covers. I pulled my bra off underneath the shirt and dropped it onto the floor. The flatmate took a t-shirt and tracksuit pants to the en-suite and came out dressed but at least comfortable for bed. He crawled in on the other side, as far away as possible from me.

He turned the lights off and we both lay there in silence.

A Little Pick Me Up

I felt I needed a pick me up yesterday - No pun intended. Saying that always makes me feel like I'm some terrible male predator that cruises through the bars in search of any girl drunk or horny enough to be persuaded home. It's not quite like that. Certainly not like that at all if you are female, well enough dressed to suggest that you're on a business trip but with enough cleavage to keep it interesting and you take to a semi busy bar with a book. It looks like you're from out of town as you're not there with friends (therefor men think there is less chance of getting "involved"), on your own but not desperately waiting for company and confident enough to be happy on your own. Men love it. They flock.

I went to one of my favorite bars and sat demurely at a booth. The room was mostly men in work gear. The waitress brought my drink and I quietly checked my emails on my iPhone before picking up my book and starting to read. I only ever take a slim book to these sorts of things. For a start if you're reading chapters then it's simply not happening and you're better off to go home and rely on yourself for entertainment.

I kept half an eye on the rowdy-ish group of boys in the center of the bar. They were just loose enough to be on the prowl but not so drunk that they were getting all bromancy. Bromance is death to getting a shag. All they want to do is sit around and talk about how much they love each other and aren't interested in being the fellow who ditches his mates for a chick. Sport on TV is just as bad.

One of them in particular looked just what I wanted. Around 5'10'' he was slightly quieter than the others. Oh they all laughed and teased and horsed about but this one was noticeably the brunt of a couple of jokes. I don't want it to sound like he was the loser being picked on; It was more like he was the shy and quiet type that was fun to make blush. All very good natured.

You may wonder. Why is the Kept Woman trying to pick up a boy after her terrible luck with the Captain and the Idiot - or Lancelot as LBD called him in the comments (Thanks LBD, great idea!) Well I wanted a bit of no harm boy that actually worked out well. I wanted to get my eye in and my confidence back. I wanted to be in charge and in control.

The loudest one soon spotted me and, letting his friends know with a few well placed nudges and winks, came over to say hi.

His chat was mediocre. Clearly he was used to getting pussy using just his good looks. I laughed when I was supposed to but gently rebuffed him, a half smile with a hint of mock playing around my mouth. He became bolder and I turned it up to a sneer until I had to say,

"Look, you're just not my type."

"Well who is then?" He asked, sneering himself at my "poor taste."

"Him." I pointed to the shy and quiet one. The man opposite me literally goggled.

"Him? But, Jesus, look at you. You would eat him for breakfast." I smiled predatorily.

"I intend to." The man opposite me shook his head in disbelief and stumbled off when I turned back to my book and dismissed him.

Surprise conquered his pride and soon he was recounting the tale to his friends. The cute looking one was blushing to the roots of his hair and was half pushed back over to talk to me.

I looked at him coming over and laughed. I was delighted this had worked out so easily and quickly. He sat, still blushing, and I teased and winked and flicked my hair in the most terrible and obvious way. He didn't know where to put his face but I whispered a couple of suggestions that made him gasp.

In the end I was blunt and forward because I had to be. I flat out asked if we could go back to his to fuck and he stammered out that he had a girlfriend. Blast! I thought but I did my worst and said I didn't care, she wouldn't have to know, it's just a fuck etc, lazily flicking a nail up and down his thigh going slightly higher each time but not so high that I would touch anything inappropriate. Not yet anyway. I could tell by the tightening and straining of his jeans that he was certainly receptive to my point of view.

A couple more dirty suggestions and we were out of the bar, his friends cheering us on.

In the taxi I wouldn't let him touch me, nor in the lift up to his flat. I wanted to do it my way. We got back to his and went straight through to the bedroom. I told him to get undressed and get onto the bed. He did as he was told, excited by the frisson of command in my voice. He lay there and I tried not the giggle at the always slightly absurd sight of a naked man with an erection - is it me or is it just so crude? I stood at the end of the bed and undid my dress. It pooled at my feet and I stood there in a black set of La Perla underwear that accentuates my creamy skin. He reached out to touch me but I slapped him down and pushed him back again. Then came off my bra and I stood there, legs slightly spread, hands on my hips and let him admire me. He put his hands under his head to watch the show. Next I flipped off my knickers, high kicking them towards the ceiling.

I crawled towards him on the bed and licked the head of his penis slowly round. He gasped "Jeeeeesus" as I sunk down, taking as much as I could of him in my mouth: all of it. I repeated the trick that the Suit taught me and kept him on the edge of orgasm for ages. He, like I had, begged and thrashed and bucked but I held all the control I needed in the palm of my hand.

Finally I felt some pity for him and reached for a condom I had already left at the side of the bed. I sheathed him then mounted him myself. He told me he wouldn't last long and I laughed and said "we'll see."

I rode him hard but again kept him away from orgasm. I felt dominant, sexy and wildly out of control. I was selfish in my pleasure and came at least 3 times before letting the poor boy have his reward. He almost bucked me off when he came but I'm far the more experienced rider and so held him firm.

The sex had been thrilling and just what I needed to make me feel like myself again. I hopped off him and laughed as he lay in a groaning heap. I pulled on my knickers and bra and set off to find something to drink.

The Frenchman Returns

My dear Frenchman is back and calling. True to his word he didn't return to Beijing before I did but now he's back and he wants our old relationship to resume.

I arrived for lunch yesterday at a five star hotel over in the west of the city. We have been there a number of times for our little tête à tête amoureux and the Frenchman always takes a suite so that we can have some privacy. I was whisked up by one of the managers to the room and deferentially escorted in. God knows what they think we do in here... we always eat our full meal, the beds are never rumpled and the towels unused but they're under strict instructions not to enter from coffee to the time we leave.

The Frenchman stood to greet me as he always does. He kisses me, once, twice, thrice, as usual, and holds my chair out for me. I sit and beam at him, happy to catch up with my dear friend. Yes, my petit cadeau is sitting on a discrete chair in the corner of the room.

We speak of nothings for the first part of the meal but once the tables are cleared and we're left with coffee and cake the real conversations begin.

"You've gained weight, Coquette, you bloom, you glow. Is your Alpha going to be a happy man in nine months?"

"Lord no. I'm just glad to be back in Beijing."

"As am I. So no more silly boys, ma petite? No more of that one very silly boy?"

"No, that's all over thank god. Mind you I did get turned down pretty horribly the other week." I briefly described the situation to the Frenchman and he laughed and tutted in the correct places.

"I don't know. My moral compass always points to whatever I want and I assume every one is the same. I never expected to be turned down for morals." I made a face as I finished. The frenchman leaned over and patted my hand.

"My chère amie don't you understand that my honor and morals is what prevents us from going any further?" He looked so sweet and ernest when he said it. Does he truly believe I would leave Alpha for him? Surely not.

I took his hand in mine and kissed it on the knuckle.

"Dear friend don't you understand what your friendship means to me? I love you my dear Frenchman but I am not in love with you nor do I feel that way about you. It is not your honor or morals that protects me from your desire but indeed it is my desire to keep you just as you are: a kind and wonderful friend who lends me support when I need it most and asks for nothing in return. Do you understand how rare that is? Especially between a man and a woman. Is that not enough for you?"

The Frenchman stilled. He was both sad and thoughtful as he mulled over my words. He pulled his hand away from mine and at length he laughed a small shaky laugh that suggested his next words may be part lie. 

"Of course it is enough for me. An old man can certainly dream that a young woman is just waiting to be swept off her feet can't he?"

"I already have been swept off my feet my friend."

Lunch concluded quickly after that and I left with my present. I sat in the car and unwrapped my gift. It was a beautiful silver anklet, a slave bangle as they were known back in my colonial days, that jingled softly with each movement. I wonder if it was supposed to be a message?

The Idiot - An Apology

I must apologize quickly. The Idiot - a name that's so trite, so scornful, so inane. I really should have come up with a better nickname, something that was witty and elegant instead of something that suggested hurt pride, bruised ego and a lack of imagination on my part.

I could say that I was hungover and stupid. I could say that coming up with these names isn't my strong point. I could say any number of things but I would rather simply say Sorry, I should have done better.

The Hangover

Do you ever feel that the fun of the night before is not in direct proportion to the hangover the next day? I sometimes think that if only the night before had been amazing then the hangover the next day would surely be worth it. I felt wretched on Sunday, truly, truly wretched and Saturday night was in no way worth the hang over.

Very awkwardly I saw the Idiot at a bar and then proceeded to bump into him at every place we went to for the rest of the night. We caught sight of each other at the start of the night and ignored each other for a good half hour until literally face to face and with no way out other than to say hello.

Then later we had a brief conversation that was all polite nothings and I willed myself to be somewhere else.

At the very end of the night, when I was drunk enough not to know better we finally had that chat. I must say I wish I remembered all of it but God almighty: after seeing him at the start of the night with whom I assume is the girlfriend I made the decision to get as drunk as I could so all conversations and memories have the dull hazy feel of being viewed through cotton wool. I like to assume he stopped me and I think the conversation went like this...

Idiot: So what's going on? Are you really engaged?

Kept Woman shrugged, trying to think of something clever to say.

I: I'm sorry I just can't do that. I would really go to hell if I slept with an engaged girl.

Finally KW got brain in gear enough to reply:

KW: Let's go somewhere else and talk about it. It's very simple, just let me explain.

I: I can't, I would seriously go to hell.

KW shrugged again - how can you compete with that?

I: It's just that I want you so much but I just can't.

KW: What about your girlfriend?

I: I don't have a girlfriend.

KW: So what's the problem? Let's just go.

I: You have no idea how much I want you. I have a huge erection just talking to you (!!)

KW: Look just let me explain and then it will all be fine.

I: I can't. I'll call you tomorrow ok? We'll talk about it then.

What do you think happened yesterday dear reader? Did he call? Of course not.

Maybe I'm the Idiot.