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

The Men and I

I love and hate crashing boys bonding. I'm not quite sure what it is as it seems to embrace the masculine and feminine part of my personality. There's the part of me that openly rolls its eyes when someone cracks a sexist joke (normally I would laugh along too - if it's funny). There's the part that comments on the outstandingly hot door bitch. Yes, it brings out my yin and yang.

I think it always depends on the men.

Years and years ago I went to a sporting event and happened to be the only female. Men attempted to shun Alpha for "ruining" the fun by bringing me and I kept my mouth shut apart from to comment on the general "look at those 32Cs" when I would chip in with a "C? C? Cant you recognise a good DD when you see it?" or "C? C? Can't you recognise a nipple on ribs with a good bra when you see it?"

I was appreciated by the end of the event if only for my talent at spotting "false advertising."

Any way, tonight was another story. Alpha and I had been invited to dinner followed by watching a match at a local bar. We knew other couples supposedly going so I happily scruffed down and got ready to pop over.

We walked in and there was this quiet silence when everyone realised that I was the only female... and none of the other women were there. Then EVERY male recounted a story of how his wife was either at home with the kids or would rather taser herself then come to dinner with "the lads." They then all looked at me like, so why the fuck are you here?

Luckily at least 3 of them were perfect gentlemen and made sure that I wasn't sat alone or ostracized or ignored. Like a good little girl I should say that as soon as dinner was over I did run so that they could enjoy drinking and shouting at the TV in peace.

Bless them.

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.

July & August Catch Up

Well dear me, what has been happening?

Not a lot frankly. August has been debauched in a slightly restrained way. When I have actually gone out it's been manic. 4am, 5am, 6am. On the days I haven't it's been trophy wifelet cooking fantastic meals for a very happy Alpha. Last week alone I ended up going out for dinner and getting wrecked 5 times. It was messy. Most days would be spent slumped on the sofa trying to decide whether I would have McDonald's delivered or just cope with some toast. Messy, messy, messy.

The worst day was this Saturday. After a silly late night spent desperately flirting I spent Saturday clinging to a bottle of water and attempting to eat food every few hours. Couldn't do it. I tried to eat, I tried to tempt myself but nothing was working. I was so hungry, starrrrving hungry, but every time I tried to eat my body would revolt and I knew eating was out of the question. Ah, the joys of a hangover.

There haven't been any men really. Alpha and I have been spending a lot of time together, which is great. We talk, we laugh, we love. I love, most of all, sleeping with him. My body is cocooned in his, his legs around mine, one of my hands following the lean length of of his thigh, his hand cupping my eager breast. Ah yes, the joys too of a man who loves to hold you.

Who else have I seen?

The Frenchman has been away again, doing the season in Paris. The Idiot has been flitting in and out of the scene with, thankfully, no more major dramas. Actually that's a bit of a lie. Back in July we had a massive fight which ended with him calling me all sorts of names and me having a little sob. I've tried to sit down and write what actually happened but I can't quite bring myself to do it. It's like a broken tooth that you best not prod for fear of causing pain. Since then we have agreed to "be cool and just be friends". Do your eyes roll at that sentence too? In the spirit of this new found friendship I have decided to change his name from The Idiot to Lancelot (thanks again LBD for the suggestion). Poor lamb, it's really not his fault that he was getting caught up in my sordid little web of lies, lust and deceit. It's not his fault he didn't really have the stones for it.

Since the truce it's gone from awkward to comfortable. He still isn't quite sure whether to kiss me on the cheek when we greet but I manhandle him into position and treat him gently so that he doesn't bolt. Poor Lancelot, he simply has no idea how to deal with me.

The Flatmate also popped up at a bar sometime last month. He was bold but shy. Familiar but unwilling to ask me outright if there was any chance he could take me home. I can't wait to see how that's going to pan out.

What else, what else? September is going to be a crazy month. Alpha is away for most of it so I fully expect to get out and about. I'm back at the gym, working hard (or as hard as a Kept Woman ever does) and trying to be good to myself. I definitely hope to drag some poor thing back to my lair. Or, even better, make him think he's dragged me back to his...

I feel the greatest urge to call the Suit. God he was pretty and just what I feel like right now. No holds barred sex.

There is a big dinner on this Saturday and I'm really looking forward to it. The Frenchman is back for the weekend and coming too. Alpha will be there as my official escort but who knows where the night may end?

Sorry again for ignoring you all over the past 2 months. I'm back on top now, I promise.

The Kept Woman

XXX

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 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.