Chapter 3

I paused a moment to think.

I like women who tease. They are honest about life, about their wants and needs. When one teases you, it allows you to openly hunger for her and let her know you appreciate her as a desirable woman.

After a few episodes of teasing you, you get the idea she really might like you. That leads you to think you could get closer to her, maybe even get lucky with her. That’s where I felt I was with Wendy.

The longer a teaser teases you, the more you anticipate great things happening in your sex life. Drawn out, it develops a great desire in you for her. This is where there is a difference between women and girls. A real woman knows how to draw you deeper into her web. Then you begin to really want her. Eventually, it becomes that you need her. Wendy had made no bones about what she wanted. The constant teasing, flirting, and flashing left no doubt. Allowing me, no, encouraging me to frig her just before Bob came home left no doubt. She had me in her sights and not Bob.

It’s like a stairway. Someone takes the first step, like her flirting or you being gallant and opening a door while gently steadying her arm. Touching her. Every step you take helps. If you don’t take steps backward, it may go merrily along on an upward path. Hopefully, where you both want to go. Each of you goes up the stairway, adding to the interactions and developing a deeper relationship.

I returned to the present conversation.

Wendy said, “You watched us screw last night?”

I said, “I could have brought in a chair and watched up close. You two never even knew I was home. I wasn’t quiet when I came in, and neither were the two of you when you cum.”

She said, “Interesting, but I doubt Bob would go for you watching him. Hehe, I wouldn’t mind. If you haven’t noticed, I am a bit overcharged sexually. I had my first experience with a guy very recently, so I’m not a tramp, just a little overripe, needy maybe.”

I said, “That’s confusing to me. I’m a bit inexperienced. Can you take it easy on me for a while? I’m just a man, after all. I feel tortured. The nudity and blatant sex are a bit much.”

I heard a door. Wendy moved over, and Bob walked down the hall.

He said, “Are we having a party?”

I said, “No, not yet, anyway. We had a little talk. I came in late last night, and you two were having a fun time. Uhm, I asked her to keep the door closed. I don’t need to see your hairy ass in action, Bob. Gross!”

He said, “Speak for yourself, Pilgrim. OK, I guess if I saw your naked ass going at it, I would feel the same way.”

I smiled and said, “Thank you. I tried to give you lots of time last night, you ol’ horn dog.”

He said, “I yam whut I yam, and it’s all whut I yam,” as he rubbed his knuckles over his chest. [ The I yam bit is a pseudo quote from Popeye the Sailor, a cartoon circa 1935 or later. ] I said, “I will leave you two love birds to it. I am winding down and will take my book to bed. See you guys much later?”

I woke around three that afternoon, peed, and went back to chill out and let my mind chew over things. I did that a lot. It helped me understand things. I put on shorts and walked down the hall. I found Wendy had a visitor.

I said, “Hello,” at seeing her.”

Wendy said, “This is Shannon Ross. She’s our local Avon lady.”

I said, “It’s nice to meet you, but I don’t need any makeup right now.”

Shannon said, “Ha ha, I can see that.”

I said, “I’m sorry, I’ll get a shirt on. I wasn’t aware we had company.”

I walked away thinking about what I saw, a tall woman, broad-shouldered and a little plain in the face. She has brown hair with caramel highlights, a touch of a mustache, and brown eyes. She does have a good-sized pair of tits on her. She’s wearing one of those cast iron bras for big-chested women. Her large stature is such that her tits are not a defining feature. She’s a large gal, and her tits are proportional.

I left and came back with a pullover shirt on. I went into the kitchen and made a sandwich and tea. Then I disappeared down the hall to my room and my book.

Later I heard the front door close, and a minute later, a knock at my door.

I said, “Hey?”

Wendy opened the door and came in. She sat on the bed to talk.

She said, “I ordered a few things. Do you think Bob will pay for them?”

I said, “He should if you’re going to cook and clean for us and wash his dirty undies. Then you let him partake of your fine body, isn’t he honor bound to support you?”

She said, “You think it’s a fine body?’ I said, “Oh, Honey, you’re a ten in any man’s little black book. Didn’t you know that? The minute I saw you at the bus station, I thought, ‘10,’ Bob, you lucky fucker. You have the kind of body any real man desires. It’s enjoyable just holding you. You had both of us hooked the day you arrived.”

She said, “I never knew that about me. Every boy I dated in high school only wanted to put their paws on my titties. Bob started out somewhat indifferent as they had. He went right for the tits too. I could have been a hunchback with bad breath, but no, TITS! Gimme some tits.”

I interrupted her, “They are some very amazing tits, after all. Admit it, you know they are fine.”

She said, “Those guys mostly made me mad. I’m more than a mere pair of tits.”

I said, “Oh, how I know that, but ALL of you is certifiably fine too. I think you were dating dumb little boys. They are not quite housebroken yet. They, sometimes most of us, say and do things without thinking.”

She said. “That sounds a lot like Bob.”

“I said, “Oops. I didn’t say that or mean to imply it, but neither of us has been formerly house-trained by a woman at this point. We could pee in the corner at any moment.”

She said, “He he. You don’t act that bad. I see you want me, but you have never been rude or grabby.”

I said, “Maybe it’s because I read a lot. Reading helps me understand people’s motivations and what drives them. After all, other people have their own ideas.”

I continued, “We lived in the sticks, so the TV reception was bad over the air. I visited the public library at least once a week. I read one book after another while others watched Colgate or Chevrolet commercials. Maybe that helped me or something. Maybe it was the army. I was an MP, you know. I was always interested in working with people as a law officer. You have to know how people react to do that job.”

She said, “But you don’t want to be a cop now?”

“I said, “No. Not as much. I like what I’m doing now, and I don’t think I want to be a cop anymore. After being an MP, my experience tells me what I’m doing suits me better. Cops get killed in shoot-outs and car chases. Just driving all day every day can be risky.”

“Good, I like to think of you at the mall, telling women where to shop.”

I said, “As if? I can direct them to the store they want. I’m more like the map at the entrance. I have no idea what’s in most of the stores.”

She said, “You’re funny. They could read the map at the entrance. Do they talk to you or your partner?”

Is said, “I think I get the younger women and girls come up to me probably because I’m younger. My partner, Chuck, gets the mature women and older ladies.”

She said, “They are checking you out. Those women can read a map just fine. Have you looked in the mirror? What did you see.”

I said, “Just me. I mean, I work out to stay healthy. I don’t think I look bad.”

She said, “Holy shit, Bill Mooney. You’re a walking, talking man doll. You’re hunky, and you speak well. You’re very fuckable. If they flirt with you at all, they want you. Didn’t you know that?”

She continued, “A little insight for you, Bill. Women won’t talk to you if they are not interested in you. If they do, they might be dismissive or even rude. You might get some honest questions about the mall, but most of those women were checking you out. If you get repeats from the same woman, you could easily get their number by asking her.”

I said, “Holy sit. But that’s a no-no at work, but it does explain a lot. When I go to the beach, I have noticed many women walk by closer to me lately.”

“She said, “The next time you go to the beach, leave your watch at home. Just ask one of those women what time it is, and see what happens. Boy, you are a serious girl magnet, and you didn’t even know it. How rich is that, haha.”

I said, “I have never been good at picking up women or understanding them. Doing a pickup is not my style. Who knows, I could pick up a Lizzie Borden or a con woman.”

She said, “Excuses. That sounds like feeble excuses to me. In Indiana, where I come from, you would already be married and have two point three kids.”

I said, “I saw farm life growing up here in Florida. That’s why I joined the army in the first place. To get away. Then Jimmy Carter downsized the army so bad I got flushed with Bob and most of the rest of the army. I would have stayed for as long as they needed me. In any case, I am hesitant to get involved seriously right now.”

“Wendy, my plan currently is to pay this house off by the time I’m 30. I bought it with a 15-year mortgage and made double payments to make that happen.”

She said, “Why? What’s the rush?”

I said, “My folks married at 18 and never had a pot to piss in. I’m not doing that. Traditionally, men did not get married until the man could provide a wife with a good stable home. Nowadays, everyone is all free love and that bullshit. They rent an apartment, throw a mattress on the floor, and away they go. They only want to get an early start and screw like bunnies. Thirty is early enough for me to start looking for the right woman when I’m properly situated.”

She said, “When you’re thirty, all the remaining women your age will be picked over. You’ll be looking at divorced women and has-beens. Most women can’t have babies after 35 or so. What then?”

I said, “Who said anything about a 30-year-old woman? I’ll find a young hot thing like you. I’ll be a man with a home and a few bucks in the bank. I should be able to attract an 18 to 25-year-old easily. By the way, how old are you?”

I touched her hair and ran my fingers through it. It was softer than I thought it would be.

She said, “I just turned 17, hardly been kissed. I quit school at 16 to go to work full-time. How old are you?”

I said, “Holy shit, that young, huh? I just turned 24.”

She asked, “Bob is 22, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

She said, “Your 24. That answers why you act a little more mature. You actually are a little more mature, time-wise.”

I said, “And why I’m not in a hurry to get married. I think I like being careful and thinking things over. Women used to respect men. They wanted a mature man.”