The Kept Woman

Pub Lunch

I'm finally up and about. Being sick was a total bore though I did manage to wonder down to the kitchen gardens with a blanket and snooze in the sun once I was feeling better.

To continue with my day on the 19th of May before I got sick...

I read the paper in silence, settling down for a truly enjoyable day. The bar girl disappeared for a break and Jon took over. He sent over another pint when I tipped him the wink but I was surprised when the pint was brought over by the russet haired young man who had been talking to the bar girl. He popped it in front of me with a,

"I rather think it's my fault that you were almost refused your tab, I'm so sorry." I looked up into an open and friendly face with that glorious English skin and smiled.

"No I rather think she would have hated me on sight anyway. I'm sure when I was that age I hated any woman older than myself who didn't have to do bar work or whatever we did in our youths to get paid."

"I put up marquees and hated every person who went to the parties." He said as he sat down in the chair next to mine.

"Champagne bar that did the season. It was terrible going to Ascot and Henley and all these events and having to wear boring black, not drink and stand up all day."

"Here's to not being 19 again." He tipped his glass to mine and I cheersed him with a "god yes." We smiled at each other and a light bulb clicked in my head.

"You're the new Squire aren't you?"

"Yes, tell me, will I be the new squire even when I'm old and gray?"

"Good lord yes!" I laughed, "certainly until everyone my mothers age has passed away or at least until you're married and have filled the rooms of The Hall with children."

"So not until I'm old and gray then?"

"How long have you been here now?" He grimaced before replying.

"Not long enough. My uncle, the old Squire, wouldn't have my side of the family any where near him so I know bugger all about all this."

"You'll be fine. Just kiss babies, don't kiss teenagers or get anyone's daughter pregnant and hold a feast day every summer. They'll soon love you. Ask for help from your staff too. If they're anything like ours they'll bend over backwards if they know you just want to make their lives easier and better and that you'll listen to their complaints."

"Your staff... What Jim said... are you really her Ladyships daughter?"

"Of course, is it so hard to credit?" He blushed, a deep stain that spread across that silky skin and I marveled at how few men look good blushing.

"No it's just that I've met your mother..."

"And you're amazed I don't have a booming voice, wear tweeds and shout at the locals?"

"Well..."

"Don't worry, based on your uncle I think we were all expecting the same from you." He laughed and settled back into his chair.

"So what's a feast day?" he asked.

"Oh you know, you open the gardens, hire a band, set up a bbq, ask the Womens Institute to do a cake stall, have a tombola and a prize for the biggest carrot or what have you then donate any money raised to the church steeple fund. If you have a famous friend to give out prizes even better. Kind of like the village fair but you pay for everything and charge very little."

"Does you're mother do this too?"

"Goodness no. It would be a terrible presumption. It's the Squires job, new or old." He rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

"I can see I have a lot to learn. God, I wish I had been brought up in this like you." I laughed.

"Hardly. I've lived less in England than I have overseas now. Unless you count boarding school. I just seem to have made an impression with the locals when I am here."

"Yes you do make quite an impression..." he tailed off and we looked at each other. A blush bloomed over his cheeks again.

"Will you have lunch with me? Unless you have somewhere else to go..." I said.

He said he would love to so I jumped up to get the daily menu and we perused it together our heads almost touching. My heart beat loud in my chest and I smiled shakily at him. We both ordered, potted shrimp followed by sausage and mash for me, ploughman's followed by home made steak and kidney pie for him.

The food was delicious and simple. Home made and perfect. We talked and laughed together as our knees touched and my belly tingled. Our eyes would catch and he blushed all the more - a delicate rosy colour that suited him perfectly.

He paid, bless him, for our lunch and offered to escort me home, deeming Hatty and Pidge unfit to guard me. I laughed and let him as Jon the barman winked me out the door.

Guess Whose Coming to Dinner 1

So ages and ages ago I promised to tell you what happened the night after my dream of The Teacher (see Of Dreams and Things). Here it is...

I woke up the day after my dream feeling wretched, totally revolting and full of cold. I was a mess and very un Kept Womanish - in need of a wax, facial etc. Well nothing drags me out of sicksville faster than a pamper so I ran off to the salon and was waxed, facial-ed, manicured, pedicured, hair cut and blow dried and I felt like a new woman. Or rather like a Kept Woman.

Totally out of the blue as I used Alpha's credit card to pay my bill I received a phone call from, you guessed it, the Teacher himself inviting Alpha and I to dinner with his hissy girlfriend and a few others. Alpha was out of town so I politely declined on his behalf but accepted for myself. I could feel myself blushing as I did so. I was surprised at my reaction, breathless and excited, as I found out where we were supposed to be meeting.

I raced off home, all blahness forgotten, and wiled away the time til dinner by idly bringing myself to lazy orgasm by pretending that I was being watched by unknown men and women. More specifically I imagined myself at a party naked apart from a pair of gold heals, laying on an ornate dining table and I filling myself with a vibrator as ignoring yet excited and watchful guests wondered past.

This was probably what put me on such good form for the evening. I felt like I glowed (which was probably the orgasm or 3) and like a benevolent goddess I was pleased with and by everyone. The dinner was a success apart from the Teacher and his little Euro having a discrete but bitter fight half way through. She left and he shrugged her off like a wet coat. I teased and flirted with the rest of the table, making him laugh until he the quarrel was forgotten.

Dinner ended and we tipsily all headed towards D Lounge. We piled into cabs and I breathlessly made sure that the Teacher and I were in the same one. Without realising that it had happened the Teacher, myself and another friend who shared the cab were the only ones who made it to D Lounge. Our friend piked at the front door once we realised we were all that was left of the party but the teacher and I shrugged to each other and smiling shyly decided to go get one drink to see where the night would take us.

I couldn't tell you how it happened. I couldn't tell you how one minute we were sitting there as friends and the next he was sitting next to me in a large chair trying to wriggle his fingers into my knickers.

Of Dreams and Things

Alpha is away at the moment and as such I had a terrible nights sleep. Again.

Usually I love the first evening he has gone. I'll eat something that Alpha hates (I can't even tell you, it's so fattening and revolting. I certainly can't tell the Frenchman or Alpha. Bagel with mayo, marmite, cheese, lettuce and cucumber anyone? Baked potato with Philadelphia, baked beans and cheese? Ugh, it makes me sick to write them. These are sad leftovers from my boarding school incarceration) and then I'll hop into the bath with a book and a good single malt (ruining it slightly by adding coke but we all have our cross to bare) and then stay there for hours, topping up the bath with hot at least twice. Then I'll stay up late, finishing said book, and drop into an exhausted and restless sleep.

Then next night will be worse because I'll be bored, tired and still unable to sleep.

Alpha has been away for almost a week now and I'm beyond exhausted. My skin is terrible, my hair is thin and frizzy, my weight is up and I feel revolting. I'm also... quietly now... rather in need of a wax but don't intend to do anything about that until he's back. That or I'll do something about it when it looks like I might get lucky which, as we know, I don't need Alpha for.

The reason I don't sleep well without Alpha's reassuring warmth beside me is because I wake up constantly and dream the most bizarre and vivid dreams. Some have been so fantastical I have had to get up and write them down as, all too often, the dreams disappear like Klatchian* mist by morning.

Last night I had a dream that definitely was not washed away with my morning shower. It's been rattling around my head as clear as a picture ever since and I simply can't stop thinking about it.

There is a man in Beijing, a good friend of mine and a good friend of Alpha's, and all of the girls have a bit of a crush on him... we'll call him the Teacher on account of this one revolting jacket he owns that always puts me in mind of my senior school chemistry teacher. That aside he's tall, good looking, funny and bright as a button. Always the perfect gentleman. He has an on again and off again girlfriend - a vaguely attractive Euro with more beauty than charm and more charm than wit. No one is quite sure what he's doing with her though I suspect she's a dynamo in the sack.

So on to my dream. In it, we, the Teacher, myself and a few friends had just finished dinner and drinks and were now standing around trying to decide what we would do next. The Teacher and I shared a look and we were on. In the dream I remember thinking I had no idea where it had come from, this flash of lust, as we had never in real life hinted of anything further. Whatever my Kept Woman life may be, in public, I am the perfect, dutiful wifelet.

Back in the dream we both made our excuses to the group and, once they had gone, moved closer together. Our bodies touched and I felt that dull heat throb between us. His mouth was inches from mine and begged a kiss.

"Where shall we go? Not back to mine," I breathed. I have never nor will I ever have a man in the bed I share with Alpha. Interesting how this one scruple appears even in my dream affairs.

"My girlfriend is at mine." I mentally pawed at him and whined - at that point I would have taken any horizontal surface. I agreed and we harangued location for a bit until he said,

"The spare room in my flat has a lock on it. We could go there and she would never know."

God knows how much I wanted him then. I remember, in my dream, feeling the heat of my pussy in my knickers and being amazed he couldn't feel it too. I agreed though spoke my reservations - I'm not a dumb fuck though obviously I was willing to be in my dream.

We tripped quietly up to his and sat in the kitchen. We were both suddenly shy in that marvelous way one gets before a shag. It's a bit like going to the doctor - you know you're going to get naked but keenness to do so should be avoided. He bustled about making gin tonics and I leaned against the kitchen table. He picked up a book he had recently received as a present and asked if we should play.

"What is it?" I replied.

"Getting To Know Your Friends: 1000 Questions Everyone Should Ask and Be Asked," he laughed. I agreed and he asked me my middle name. I told him and he told me. He asked me my place of birth. I told him and he told me. I took the book off him and told him his questions here boring. I flicked quickly through the book whilst he came and stood between my legs. I opened my thighs so we were as close as possible. I could feel the hardening ridge of his cook against my pussy and his hands run the length of my leg. I ignored him and continued to flick through the book even as my body throbbed.

"Ah!" I said, "here's one. Any scars?" Without a word he pulled up his shirt and jumper to show me a shallow appendix scar. I reached to touch it but paused just as I was about to touch him. I questioned him with my eyes and he nodded tightly, a muscle in his jaw flexing just so you wouldn't know unless you looked. I ran too fingernails the length of the scar and watched, fascinated as his surprisingly hard abs jumped at my touch. I wanted to lick the length of it and feel the hard ridge but I paused and said,

"Well?"

"Wh... What?" he asked as if coming from a place far away.

"Aren't you going to ask me?"

"Ask you what?"

"Do I have any scars silly."

"Do you?"

Without answering I unbuttoned my shirt slowly. He tried to hold my gaze but it kept slipping to my lacy covered breasts. He gulped as they came into view but I turned slightly to show him my shoulder.

"What, I can't see it."

"Use your fingers, can you feel the ridge?" He did and we both shivered this time.

"What's it from?"

"No one's quite sure. Most likely I just gave myself a good scratch on some barbed wire. Not very glam, I know. I don't remember, I was very young."

He leaned forward to kiss it but as his mouth was millimeters away we heard a light turn on and the pad of footsteps in the hall.

"Who's there darling?" A querulous female voice called as I swiftly buttoned my shirt and tried to look presentable.

"Only me," I called out. One thing I do know is Never Look Guilty: Invite the cheated wife to join in, ask them if they fancy a drink too, mention your Alpha and for gods sake look thrilled to see them.

"Sorry, darling thought you were asleep. X was out tonight and I can't stand him so I blackmailed the Teacher into drinking more with me at yours. Fancy one too?" I asked blithely, waving a bottle. She looked suspiciously between the two of us but I looked so welcoming and happy (and I did say she wasn't that bright) and the Teacher was smart enough to follow suit. After a moment she shook her head and went back to bed, extolling us to have fun. The door closed and we called at the same time,

"We will!"

Ok, that's enough, I'm tired and going to bed now... I'll finish the rest of my dream tomorrow.

Sleep tight my children...

* There's a prize for the person who doesn't need Wikipedia to locate Klatch

Lancelot Betrays His Feelings - an old post

I should tell you a dirty little secret of mine... shhh... let me come closer and whisper it into your ear. Can you feel the tips of my fingers gently touching the shell of your ear? Can you feel my lips against your skin? Are you sure that I'm doing it by accident or am I brushing feather light kisses against your ear on purpose?

Now, to secrets and darker things.

Lancelot (the Idiot as was) wants me.

The weather was cold which, when still in the middle of summer, always makes me long for winter. I took advantage of the cool weather and sat outside a coffee shop over near SoHo. I should say, I took advantage of the fact that the cool weather meant that sitting outside was bearable. Hoody, jeans, flip-flops, hair thrown up in a bun and a scant hint of makeup on my face. This is as much of a dirty secret as Lancelot is - I love to dress down when I think no one will see me. Alpha and the Frenchman are away and there are precious few others whose opinions I crave. Alpha likes me to look my best because he loves me and wants to be proud of me, the Frenchman because, well, he's French. He doesn't understand ill groomed women.

So, to the coffee shop. I was sitting and tapping away at my computer whilst the world slid on around me. I ignored any admiring looks - not so many when I'm incognito - and glared down the one man who came over to say hi.

That was when I heard laughter and someone calling my name from the table across from me. I looked up, annoyed at the interruption.

There, of course, was Lancelot. As fresh and pink as any knight in shining armor he exuded good-natured boyish enthusiasm and hope. Arrogant and faithless, he looked like any other handsome young puppy thrilled with his life and his own good fortune. It was enough to make a Kept Woman sick.

"I wasn't sure it was you but when you gave that guy a look which said "eat shit and die" I knew it must be. What did he ever do to you?" Lancelot grabbed his coffee and the books from his table, came over and sat across from me.

"He sat down uninvited," I said, giving him my best "eat shit and die" look. I do hate being interrupted when I'm writing.

He laughed but didn't move. Gosh, we're all good friend here, I thought.

"Ah! You wound me. I thought we were friends now?"

Right then, I thought, friends it is.

I smiled widely and slapped my laptop shut, hoping everything would auto-save.

"Of course, darling, I'm always thrilled by your company." I assume he missed my sarcasm as he didn't bite.

"What are you writing? I thought you didn't work?"

"Oh, I don't," I replied. "I'm just sending emails."

"You looked pretty intense just to be writing emails."

"Why, how would you know? Were you watching me?" He smiled, still enjoying himself.

"I was watching the pretty blond in the dark glasses. Like I said, I didn't know it was you until just now."

"Pretty hey?" I purred at him, trying to keep my voice friendly and not too flirtatious.

"Very. I've never seen you like this before. It's a breath of fresh air to see you looking so down to earth. It suits you."

I tried not to sneer at him when he said that. Like I could ever be attracted to a man who wanted me to be the girl next door. Mind you, I've played just about every other role that has been consciously or unconsciously thrust on me- eager virgin, strict teacher, playful minx, naughty student, vicious whore- girl next door can't be too much of a leap.

I did my best to let him see a side of me that doesn't exist over the next few hours. I was playful and fun, I rested my feet on the chair opposite me, I relaxed, I wouldn't let him buy me more than one drink but insisted on standing my round. I laughed and teased and spoke "honestly" about my life. He was practically panting by the time the day was more than half gone. If I had realized that all he wanted was Miss Average I could have done it months ago.

We got on to talking about movies when he started telling me about one he had seen recently. I pretended I didn't know it and said I would look for it next time I was at the DVD store.

"Don't be silly, I probably won't watch it again. Why don't you come and get it from mine? Better yet we could watch it together."

I looked doubtfully at him, looking at my watch as if I had somewhere else to be.

"Come on, it will be fun. We can bum about on the sofa and just watch the movie." I prevaricated, making half excuses and making him all the more eager for me. Plus I had a little inward snigger at the thought of bumming about on the sofa.

He badgered and cajoled and I found myself getting bundled out of my seat and into a cab over to his. I sat demurely away from him and watched the Beijing traffic stretch out and contract in an endless concertina of cars, bikes and buses.

He prattled on happily in the car. A steady stream of gentle noise his voice bubbled around me. I let me mind drift until we arrived at what I shall loosely call his apartment.

I was led in and popped on the sofa with a cup of tea.

School boy error by the way, never give a girl your attempting to make a move on a hot beverage. It's too much of a barrier and you run the risk of skin burns if you get too fresh and she tips it over you. No, stick to water, wine and other drinks that wont ruin your weekend if it ends up in your lap.

The DVD was on and the air-conditioning ramped up high. I almost laughed. This was the trick he had used to get me into bed with him last time. I counted from zero in my head. I hadn't quite got to seventy when he suggested grabbing the duvet from his bed in case I was cold.

"Don't worry," I said cheerfully, "I'm absolutely fine."

He tried not to look put out.

I counted up again from zero.

41, 42, 43...

"I might go and get the duvet for myself, I'm feeling a little chilly."

"Oh don't worry about me! Just turn the AC off and you'll be fine."

Slight pause.

"I wouldn't want to put you out. I would rather you were comfortable."

"Don't be silly. We should turn it off, do our bit for the environment."

Longer pause.

We sat quietly for a while and I could almost hear his brain whirring as he tried to think of another way to get me under the duvets and cuddled up.

He went and turned the AC off and I smiled sunnily as he came back and sat in the center of the sofa, far closer to me than he had been.

We watched the movie in silence again.

He shifted in his seat, feigning discomfort so he could slide closer.

I pressed my lips together to prevent myself from smiling.

How was he going to manage this, I thought. I decided I would have to help him along, at least a little. I pulled my hoodie off, revealing a tight white wife-beater that clung carefully to my curves. Then I reached forward to the coffee table to check from messages on my phone all the while being careful to give him a nice view down my top.

I reached to put my phone back on the table. Just as I dropped it he grabbed my wrist. I jumped and pulled back but his still had my wrist. The moment went very tense and still. His eyes were flicking between my breasts and my lips. A light pressure on my wrist brought me towards him and he moved closer as well. I had no idea what he planned to do. I had no idea what I was going to do.

I licked my lips and he almost groaned. He leaned forward, his lips parting. I panicked. This was not what I wanted.

Should I poor my tea over his lap? Slap him? Pull away? Ask him to let go? In the end I turned my face as far as I could away from his so he would have to either make a fool of himself by grappling for me or kiss my ear. Suddenly, his hand dropped limply from mine and he sat back looking shame faced.

I sneered at him through half lidded eyes.

"What? Did you think your big seduction routine would work? Do you think I came here to be roughly pawed by some halfling boy? Do you think your clumsy fumbling could ever turn me on? Please, dear, spare us both from your teenage lustings."

I stood and looked down at him. Disappointment, frustration and irritation warred within me. This boy, this rube, this clod. This is the boy who upset me and made me cry. Who called me slut, whore, stupid, unfeeling, uncaring. Spiteful boy who couldn't get what he wanted, who wanted me single, and punished me soundly, verbally, for it afterward.

Something seemed to visibly snap within him. He stood too and I took a step backwards. He moved forward and I had to force myself to stand my ground. He moved closer and I balled my fists, ready to take swing at him. He grabbed me roughly and I tried to struggle but to my surprise, instead of the rough mauling I was expecting he kissed me lightly across my face. Feathery kisses brushed my brow, my lips, my eyelids and my cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry I was such an arse. I'm sorry I was so horrible. I'm sorry I tried to get you into bed again after I told you I thought you were a whore for wanting to sleep with me before. I'm so damn sorry. Please forgive me. Please can we start again."

"Friends? We tried that before. Look where it's got us." He was still kissing me gently though I stood no less stiff in his arms.

"Not friends, more than friends. I want more than this. I know you're with Alpha but I like you so much. I wish you could be mine but I see that you can't. That you won't. So maybe we could just sneak around. Be together on our own."

I waited to see if there was more. He eventually stopped kissing me and pulled back to look into my eyes.

I shook my head gently and said,

"That's not what I want any more. I don't want you any more. It has become clear, abundantly clear, that we are simply not right for that kind of thing. I don't want it. I can't see beyond everything else you've done and said. I simply don't see you in the light. I also, and let me be very clear now, don't want that kind of relationship from you or from anyone. I love Alpha, he makes me happy."

Lancelot released me and I stepped back. I pulled on my hoody and deftly rearranged my hair. He hadn't moved and I pushed past him to leave. He didn't stop me and I didn't say goodbye.

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 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.

Unexpected Dining Companions

I was planning to have lunch on my own today. I like to do it every now and again. I take a good book, go to a restaurant I love and order all the things I'm usually too polite to stuff myself on. You know what it's like. You go for sushi and there are enough little salmon rolls for everyone to have one or two but you're sitting there thinking "just give me the whole lot and pass the wasabi." So that's what I do on my solitary dining days. I order a whole plate of salmon plus whatever else I love and just gorge.

I woke up, went to the gym, went and had my hair blow dried then popped into The Village to do a bit of shopping and find some lunch.

I was walking up the stairs between levels when I saw him. Oh. My. God. Hair all wind swept and disheveled - like he had just gotten out of someone's bed - tall, strong and handsome he was like Prince Charming just back from slaying the dragon in a Brioni suit. The Suit was walking down the stairs whilst I was walking up. He hadn't been paying attention but when we were about to pass each other he looked down at me and we both stopped simultaneously. He grinned and I lowered my eyes in false modesty before peeping up at him with a coy smile fluttering against my lips.

"Hello," he said familiarly, "you look lovely. Going somewhere nice?" I bit my lip and thought for two seconds before replying.

"Why yes, I am. I'm going to go and have some lunch." He turned so that he could walk up the stairs with me.

"What a coincidence, so am I. Dining alone?" He asked.

"Not any more. Where are we eating?"

"How does Hatsune sound to you?"

"It sounds wonderful as long as you don't mind that I'm going to order far too much and I won't want to share." He laughed, a deep rich sound and tickled and nudged the base of my spine.

"My kind of woman." We walked the rest of the way to the restaurant in near silence though we kept on checking each other out and smiling.

He took control by asking for a table from Kristen, the door whore, and we were promptly seated and looking over menus. I called the waitress almost immediately back and started ordering. I chose half a dozen dishes - sushi, rolls, stir fried vegetables, miso soup, more sushi - then turned to the Suit and asked what he wanted to eat. He added a couple of things to the list and ordered us both cocktails.

"You really weren't kidding when you said you didn't want to share."

"Not at all. I love coming here and ordering until I'm sick. I usually prefer to do it when no one can witness my shame however."

"There's no shame in following your passions." There was a fraught pause when we looked at each other and a palpable buzz of sexual attraction. I felt myself starting to blush again - what was the effect the Suit had on me? Like two magnets we shifted ourselves subtly closer together.

The silence was broken by the waitress bringing the stir fried vegetables. I pushed the plate towards him and said,

"Please, I'm not a terrible lunch companion, you will eat too wont you?" He picked up a piece of broccoli with his chopsticks and put it to my mouth so that I could eat it. I held his gaze as I opened my mouth and took the broccoli then closed my eyes and moaned quietly as I tasted it. I glanced at him through my lashes and saw that he was practically growling with lust. Suddenly I wasn't very hungry at all. Who knew broccoli could be so sexy?

He cleared his throat and tried to say something. No words came out so he cleared his throat and tried again.

"Lets get out of here. I'll take you for lunch after." I knew that the Suit never usually had any trouble asking for what he wanted and the knowledge made me bold. I put my hand on his chest and coiled my fingers through the soft cotton of his shirt. I could feel his heartbeat under my hand as it skittered and jumped like a nervous colt. I pulled him towards me and leaned in close myself. I put my mouth right next to his ear and deftly ran the tip of my tongue over the lobe. He shuddered and moved closer.

"I hate fucking on an empty stomach. Lets finish then get out of here." I whispered provocatively. He smiled wolfishly and dug into the food on the table with gusto. I felt that warm and tight feeling in my chest that whispers excitement and the thrill of the game.

We ate quickly and without much conversation after that. It wasn't awkward at all but somehow right and as it should have been. As the last dish arrived at our table he paid the bill and practically yanked me out the door and into a taxi. We sat as far away as possible from each other like two unfriendly dogs in too small a cage. We both looked the other over and panted with lust and excitement. I think if one of us had reached out then we would have been clothes off and at it in the cab.

We arrived at his flat - a glorious penthouse that overlooked the city somewhere south east on the 3rd ring - and before the door was half closed I started to strip. My top landed on the table by the door, my skirt the sofa, my bra the tv, the knickers coffee table. I went right up to the windows and lent my forehead against the glass. I splayed my hands over the cool surface, feeling the heat from outside battle with the AC within. The Suit came right up behind me, his hands cupping my breasts possessively. His mouth covered the sensitive spot on my neck and he sucked. I felt my knees weaken and start to buckle. He pulled and pushed me down to the floor. His mouth pushed, his hands pulled. I sank compliantly and without much preamble I was on the floor on all fours. His mouth held me down and the pressure of his hands forced my bottom up. I felt open and exposed. His mouth left my neck and moved to my pussy and arse. He licked me from tip to stern, the rough pressure of his tongue made me moan and buck but still those hands held me still and in place. He sucked my clit and deftly pushed his tongue into my pussy. I gasped and pushed back but still he held me. He repeated the process. Sucking my clit then a long lap from clit to pussy. It went on and on until I could no longer tell where and how he was touching me. I was as close as I've ever been to an orgasm when he suddenly stopped and sat back. I wriggled, gasped and sobbed and begged him not to stop. He laughed cruelly and just held me still.

When at last my body stilled and slowed he started the same rhythm again. Suck. Lap. Lick. Suck. Lap. Lick. Suck. Lap. Lick.

I burn.

Each time I stood on the cusp of orgasm he would stop, sit back and wait for my frenzy to subside.

My brain turned to fog and mist as he toyed with me. When I could take it no longer. When I begged and cried and pleaded I heard him unzip his suit pants and the rustle of a condom wrapper. I felt his cock at the entrance to my pussy and I tried to push back to take him in. He reached forward and pinched my nipple hard as he slid inside me. On the first stroke, the mixture of long needed penetration and the pinch of my hard nipple, I screamed loudly and came as hard as I ever have. I bucked and thrashed on his cock as he started up a crude rhythm that made me cum in waves. Each time I thought this is what death is, this is what the martyrs felt as they burned for their god and still he kept going, pounding into me.

At last, as I struggled to remain on all fours, I felt him cum as he shouted with triumph. I dropped limply to the floor as he pulled out.

From my cruel tormentor he turned to a pleasing lover. He scooped me up, prince charming in his suit all over again, and carried me through to the largest bed I have ever seen. He pulled back the sheets with one hand and carefully deposited me into the bed. He tucked the covers around me and brought me a glass of water. He kissed me tenderly on the lips then watched me with a sly smile.

"What now? Am I supposed to sleep?"

"I thought you could probably do with a nap."

"I don't really sleep with boys." He stayed silent, mocking my statement. I looked him up and down and realized, this was no boy, this was no Captain or Green Eyes. This was almost certainly a man.

"What is it? Boyfriend or husband?" I got out of bed and went through to the living room, gathering my scattered clothes and dressing with efficiency. There are some conversations you shouldn't have naked.

"Fiance."

"Good for you. That wont make this messy at least. Do you want to catch up again? Just sex. Nothing silly, no strings attached, if we see each other in the street we can both pretend we don't know each other. It's just a fuck. What do you think?" I stilled for a moment.

"Burnt before were you? Did someone confuse her heart with her pussy?" I laughed mirthlessly.

"Worse. He did." His cocky smile dropped for a moment but slid back.

"Much worse. Don't worry I promise not to do that."

"No I don't suppose you would. Look, give me your card and I'll call you if I'm free." The Suit nodded and dug a card out of his wallet. He handed it to me in the formal Chinese manner - thumbs up, gripped with both hands, extended officially with a courtly nod - mocking me for trying to take control. I shrugged and palmed the card nonchalantly into my back pocket. His arrogance slipped for a bare moment as I treated his phone number so casually. I took my handbag and readied to take my leave.

A kiss and a "bon chance!" later and I was gone.

A Lowering Thought

I want to tell you about something that happened to me on Wednesday and Friday night. It is in no way connected to anything else that has been going on and I'm not sure he will feature again so I'm just going to throw it in and you can make what you will of it.

When out on Wednesday I met a very nice young man. There's a shock, I hear you cry. Good looking, young, blond, nice eyes (blue I think), not as tall as I like them but with these beautiful broad shoulders and strong arms. Attractive, funny, sweet and complimented me constantly. Some friends and I were in a bar and this man was there too. What shall we call him? The Banker? No, makes him sound too uptight, old and like he ruined the global economy single handedly. The Student? Yuk, no. Students have long hair and live in studio apartments. I shudder at the thought. No, Kept Women do not mix with students. Hmmmm... suggestions for his name in the comments section please.

He sought me out and flirted. He found out (not from I but from a meddling friend who wanted him for herself) that I had a boyfriend. He asked me to go home with him. I refused, balking at the thought of being so obvious in front of our, Alpha and my, friends.

That, I believed, was the end of it.

We bumped into each other at another bar on Friday. I had my game face on and gave as good as I got. We flirted with euphemisms for most of the night and he told me, depending on how things went, he may want to replace Alpha. How little you know, I thought, but loved the idea that he had barely met me but wanted to date me. Yes, the part of me that remembers the horror of the Captain told me to run but a quick shag can't hurt can it?

I ended up back at his and he quickly teased me into bed.

"No sexual connotations at all but the sofa cant be comfortable. Why don't you come and sit with me on the bed."

"No sexual connotations at all but are you cold? Why don't you climb under the covers?"

"No sexual connotations at all but that top, beautiful as it is, doesn't look comfortable. Why don't you take it off."

"No sexual connotations at all but..."

As you can imagine, it wasn't long before I was near enough naked. I love bedroom games. Especially when a fellow is bright enough to turn the air conditioning down to arctic and then gets you naked and under the covers in an effort to "keep you warm."

We made out for hours, just touching, teasing, stroking and kissing. Proper kissing. Snogging, pashing, smooching, tongues and all. God it was fun. It was like being fifteen all over again, when you spent for ever just making out without feeling too much pressure to move on to more adult pastimes.

I scratched and bit like a little fiend, rarely so turned on as I was then. I expected him at every moment to roll over and find a condom but the moment never came. Perhaps he though I was such the sexual aggressor that I would be the one to make the final move. Well I am but I like a man to be a man and not need to be asked.

The night ended with me giving him the blow job of his life. Everyone should have a talent and mine is certainly giving head. If only I could make legal and not grubby money from it I would be as rich as a nabob. I think he was most surprised when I swallowed. He had given me the tap just before he was about to cum and obviously expected me to pull back or hold and dash to the bathroom or spit or something. Remember what your mother said: it's rude to spit.

I escaped soon after, his lust sated but mine slow burning. We had agreed, periphrasticly, to meet for "lunch" the next day.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

I have never felt such a fire in my belly for a man. I arrived the next day in my best underwear, an Agent Provocateur set that would make the most jaded of eunuchs beg God for a second chance. My trousers came off quickly and he exclaimed at the underwear:

"God, this sight will go with me to the grave."

The compliments never really stopped, how great my breasts are, how tiny I was, how many positions we could do together (strong arms for he and slim body for she: great combination) and he continued to ask me about Alpha. Does he see me in this underwear, does he know how lucky he is, does he worship my breasts too?

Then, I in nothing but my knickers, he asks whether Alpha has proposed.

I want to lie. Desperately I want to lie.

"Yes, he's proposed."

"What did you say?"

"I said yes. The ring was very nice you see and it's hard to say no."

He rolls off me and away. I want to stuff the words back into my mouth. I want to block my mouth with my fist and scream.

Too late.

He won't touch a girl this deeply in a relationship. Wont go near her. One thing to sleep with a girl with a boyfriend, quite another to sleep with a girl with a fiance. There are some lines not to be crossed.

He says all this to me but his hands betray him. He is still touching and rubbing my breasts. Still stroking his hands up and down the flat expanses of my stomach. Still rubbing my pussy through the silk lace of my knickers which, holy Jesus, sends jolts of fire through my body.

We're just going to have to work a little harder for this tumble, I think.

I stretch, arch my back, display myself most fetchingly. I put my arms above my head, offer my breasts towards him, a physical supplicant, only needing him to hold my hands down and take me. I nibble at his sensitive ear lobes which he begs me to do again. I wrap my legs around his waist and show him how perfectly we would fit together. I use my nails to scratch a gentle trail of lust to his groin. I tell him my favorite positions and we act them out in a lewd pantomime that only inflames me further. I introduce him to a few of my favorites which he hasn't tried before and in a breathy voice tell him how this position makes it deeper, this position makes me feel tighter, this one makes me scream. I even tell him of the perfect moment, my favorite moment, moaning as if he is already inside me. He shudders and asks me to tell him again but still I can't budge him. I ride him, twitching and fluttering, simulating his favorite position and bring him to the point of orgasm but backed away at the last moment so he can't have the satisfaction I'm craving. He couldn't believe it, couldn't believe I could get him to that point by barely touching him.He said "ok" every now and again as if finally succumbing but, again, never just reaching for the damn condoms and fucking my brains out.

I have never, ever, tried so hard to seduce someone and failed so miserably. Never. I was shaking, physically shaking, with lust but just unable to bring him up to scratch.

He told me he wanted to see me again but I have this feeling that was it. I think his fine honor will some how speak louder without the physical reminder that we would be so good together. I think over the next few weeks he will convince himself to do the right thing and steer clear of me.

There are a few lines from Molair's To His Coy Mistress that pops into my head when I think of him:

And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust.

The grave's a fine and private place But none, I think, do there embrace.

It's a phrase that I often think of when boys and girls refuse to do what de Sade says is "as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other." The old pervert may have had some queer ideas about sex but this one's bang on.

Who knows what will happen now. He is away on holiday for the next few weeks and will decide whether he wants a night or two of passion with me whilst he is away. Let me repeat. After I made myself so maddeningly available he will decide if he wants me. A lowering thought indeed.

In the mean time The Kept Woman is sitting here with her teeth bared in un-sated want and desire. Time waits for no man and usually neither do I but I hate being denied what I want and part of me wonders how seductive I really am. What can you seduce a man away from? Honor? Morality? Does lust trump virtue? Certainly it does for The Kept Woman. What about you?

Responses and suggestions for our virtuous knights name to the comments section please.

Conversations About The Past

"So babe, what happened?" We were still sitting on the sofa, SH's arm was around me, my head was against his shoulder and the dogs were snoring with pleasure as we stroked them.

I stayed silent for a long time, trying to figure out what to say to him. SH hadn't ever mentioned the night when I went home with the Captain and not with him. There are always plenty more fishes in the sea for SH and most of them are fighting to get on his hook.

"I don't even know. He took me have dinner with his parents." SH whistled. He knows me at least.

"I imagine you didn't react well to that."

"Not at all. We fought and I said some terrible things to him."

"Like what."

"Like that he meant nothing to me and that it was just sex."

"So? I tell girls that all the time."

"Yes but probably not straight after they tell you they love you and want to spend the rest of their life with you. Not after their parents have just given you official blessing."

"Ah no, probably not then. Should have spoken up before babe. Should have been straight right from the beginning that this is just sex."

"I know."

"So why did you bolt?"

"We had sex. After we fought."

"Terrible was it? Can't blame you for bolting then darling." I cuffed him gently.

"No it wasn't terrible but it was different. He was still angry."

"Angry sex? Nice."

"It was... Oh I don't know. Angry and then cuddly. Too much left unsaid. I can't be with someone who I can't talk to and he doesn't know me at all. Doesn't know that I'll be leaving again soon, doesn't know me, doesn't know anything about me. He thinks that I'm this sweet, kind, loving girl who swoons and falls in love and cares about him."

"Ah, so you managed to hide the fact that you're really a nasty, horrible, cold fish with a heart of stone?"

"SH!"

"Well come on babe, you're not that bad. Sounds like you got in over your head and now you need some time to cool off. Just wait down here until you've figured out what you want to do or say to him then go and do it. Do you want to be with him?"

"No. God no."

"Well that's simple enough. Are you going to be a coward and disappear or be a man and tell him the truth."

"Coward."

"Babe..."

"Oh ok fine. I'll be a man about it. What on earth do I tell him?"

"Are you really telling me you've never broken up with someone before? Babe, please, you broke up with me remember? Just tell him the truth."

"Ha!"

"Ok, don't tell him the truth. Tell him you have the plague, tell him he's too good for you, tell him he's not rich enough or not funny enough or he has an stupid looking head. I know him, remember babe. He won't accept it and he won't accept anything other than the truth from you."

We lapsed back to silence and left the rest unsaid.

Truth would not be easy for either the Captain to accept or myself to say.