I lead what many would call a charmed life, as it doesn't seem that I have an outward visible means of supporting myself. However the fact I don't leave the house each morning in a suit in a tie with a briefcase in hand does not mean that I don't have a job. I am a writer and columnist who has managed to stay somewhat anonymous. I'm syndicated in 38 papers across the US and Canada under an assumed name, IE: different than the one that appears on my mailbox or drivers license. I have written two novels under my known name and use this as the excuse as to why I am not a common worker bee, even though I live in a very middle class neighborhood. While most of my neighbors are aware of the novels I have written and think I spend my time glued to a keyboard pounding out pages of my next tome, lately for the most part I am writing my human interest / satire column on the boring proceedings of middle class life in general that many find interesting enough to comment on. My "fan/hate mail" goes to my agent and I see transcripts of the bulk of it, but care little of what people think, as long as they take the time to read and comment. I've done a few phone interviews to satisfy requests for personal appearances and the like, but overall I like being anonymous and it makes my friends my "real" friends. I am no rich man, but do OK. If anyone thinks a columnist makes bushels of money for each paper he appears in, you are sadly mistaken. If I were to live on the profits from my novels, OR my syndicated musings alone, the middle class would be out of my reach. That will probably change when my third novel hits the shelves. Those who have read the first two are looking forward to the next entry in the series and that buzz will reignite sales on the first two. While I haven't pressed it, my agent is "negotiating" with a writer to prepare a screenplay for my approval for a movie deal. But that is years away, I suspect. I enjoy my simple life alone as a bachelor. I date here and there and have had nothing serious for quite some time. I know of a few women I date who would like to "catch" me, but as of now I enjoy the life I have.
So that's about all I can say about me. I sometimes get an idea block and when I do, I like to ramble on paper writing about what happens in my life. I find that when I read it back I see all the ideas I missed and then I'm on my way to the next column, or the next chapter in whatever novel I'm writing. But when I wrote about this personal life experience I found myself to be titillated and I wanted to share it, hoping it plucks the same strings in your libido as it does mine.
Without much urging, I could spend 5 or 6 days a week in my home either at my keyboards in front of a desktop or laptop, asleep, eating, and nothing else. I can absorb myself THAT much in my writing. But I also realize this is bad for my health, both mental and physical. I force myself to shower, shave, and take care of myself (brushing teeth, taking nourishment, etc) I make sure I get out and the one thing I love to do is shop for my next day meal. I thumb through my newspaper and magazines to clip coupons and make it feel like a game. Once I get out I might see a new store, a new restaurant, or fast food joint, and I'm sure to stop. Always cultivating ideas, but grocery stores are perhaps my favorite. I'm always able to inter mingle with people and watch life unfold at the market, a place we all have to visit to survive.
While shopping I always admire women. They don't have to be raving beauties for me to find a redeeming good quality in a woman in my eyes. I might utter things under my breath as I approach or pass by a woman. It might be "nice rack", "great ass", "round in the right places", or "nice mouth". They're all sexist and I would NEVER say them aloud, and they're all for my own benefit. Despite my comments to myself, I do respect women and don't think they are here for my own gratification. I do believe we are BOTH here for EACH OTHERS gratification though.
A couple of Monday's ago I went into the local PriceCutter market and upon walking in I looked up the produce aisle I saw a sexy brunette reaching up to the top row to get something from the organic line. She had a nice shape overall, a little chunky but once her arms came down from her reach I immediately said under my breath, "nice tits honey!" They were big round and full and I knew right away I wanted to see her turn and walk away, but not until I forced myself to walk by her to see her face closely. As I did so my libido approved whole-heartedly that she was a good looking and classy woman. I dropped my eyes to the handle on the cart she was pushing and saw no ring on her left hand, but there definitely had been one there for a long time. I took this in and for my own purposes, I was done with her. I came, I saw, I admired, and I was off to see my next. I stopped to pick a bag of shredded lettuce (how lazy can I get) and turned to see her walking out of the aisle and turn to the rest of the store. Once again, I confirmed, she had a nice shape, a round butt certainly not intended to be overstated by excessively tight pants or gaudy colors, but still, the shorts were short.
I got my lettuce and stopped to get a cauliflower and walked up the aisle and turned to the rest of the store. The first aisle was first aid, drugs, aspirin, feminine napkins, etc. I glanced down that aisle as I passed and she was there, looking right at me and smiling. I nervously sort of nodded my head and went about my business in the store. After picking up the 4 things on my list I had coupons for I went to the dairy aisle to get eggs (I eat eggs everyday). I picked up the box and turned to the register stands and there she was again, and once again she met my eyes and smiled. Was it an intentional flirt, was she just REALLY friendly, or did she think I was someone else? In any event, I just nodded and went to the self check-out and was out of the store.
Tuesday morning I got up and went right to the keyboard and in 90 minutes I had my weekly column done and sent to my proofreader who would proof and submit it back to me before I sent it to my agent for submission. I checked notes I had for the espionage novel I had started, but was not convinced of full plot yet, and decided I felt gritty so at 11:30 I finally showered, shaved, and brushed my teeth. I hadn't had breakfast or coffee yet so I dressed and went to a local little breakfast and lunch diner and got a coffee and hamburger with an egg on it. (don't knock it until you try it) Sitting at the counter I looked in the mirror and saw the same brunette sitting at a table behind me. She was getting up and leaving a few dollars on the table beside a small plate and empty coffee cup. She seemed to walk out without noticing me, but with my eyes following the sway of her ass she looked up quickly to catch my glance and although she didn't directly smile at me, she smiled to herself. (I thinking she was saying "I still got it!")
We both may have been thinking "coincidence" since my stopping at this little place a so random, I hadn't been there in weeks. After my breakfast I headed to the other side of town to a new market that had just opened, Wholly Foods. I got one of the small carts and decided to graze a bit to go along with my grand opening coupons. As I walk in I pass people who just checked out. I hear a chuckle and I look up to see HER, giving me a cute smile as she pushed out a cart full of organic treasures. This, like my last encounter was fleeting and coincidental. But I have to tell you, she was getting into my head as she had no way of knowing where I was going. I don't Twitter or Facebook, so it's not like I'm leaving a trail.
Wednesday I stay home all day. I wrote a couple chapters and add another page to this journal to re-read Thursday. Thursday morning I get my paper and I see the Hungerford store has 4 pound and above lobsters on sale that day and that day only. If I get one of those and make a Cole slaw, (mine is better than any you might buy) and pick up a corn muffin mix, I have dinner. I leave to get there early before they sell out (they always do with this sale) and I'm in line at the lobster tank, 3 deep. I get to point out the one I want and the clerk bags it for me and I turn ... you guessed it. There she is! She just smiles THAT smile again and I nod and I'm really kind of freaking out at this point. I mean, this woman is NOT spectacular. She 30-35, about 5'4" and is probably 10-15 pounds over the height-weight scale posted at the doctor's office. But she is wearing the extra pounds quite well, and we all know those height/weight parameters are always unreasonable.
Not fat, not rail thin, nice face, rosy cheeks and real friendly brown eyes to go with her brown to auburn hair, easily classified as brunette. However, the whole package is really quite fine. From the first time I saw her I figured her to be a bit shy, but a tiger in bed, but I like to think EVERY woman is that way, and usually if you pluck the right strings, they are. But she is causing me to obsess on her, maybe all just because of the seemingly receptive smile she flashes at me.
I walked up about 3 aisles and looked back to be sure she wasn't looking my way as to see where I went. I walked all the way down the dog food, cleaner aisle and went up two more aisles to the baking aisle to get Corn bread mix. I'm reading the mix boxes, I want the one you add eggs and oil to, they don't dry up. I just decide the one I want and I get a tap on the shoulder and you know who it is and in unison we ask each other, "Are you flirting with me, or just following me?"
We both broke down laughing and finally composed ourselves for me to ask. "I might swear you think I'm someone else because if I knew you, I would certainly remember you. You always smile like I'm an old friend."
"Well, I guess I'm flattered that you would "certainly remember me", I guess." She started to say before I added. "Trust me, as pretty as your smile is, I haven't been able to get it out of my head as it is."
She blushed deeply and said, "You just have a friendly face and I knew you ogled me. At over 30 to be looked at like that makes me feel great. Umm, my name is Natalie."
"Oh, I'm Keegan. Call me Key."
"Like the writer, Keegan Holt, that's an interesting name." She said smiling that smile and nodding.
"Yes, just like the writer." I said with a straight face.
I wasn't sure if I was happier she had spoken to me, or that she had heard of me and maybe read one of my novels, all the while not admitting to being him.
"OK, I AM flirting now. You have a very nice face, trusting and confident." She said, blushing again.
"Maybe we could go out for a drink sometime." I said hopefully.
"Sorry, I'm through with men." She said holding up her hand with a faded stripe where a rung once sat.
"That says you're through with that man."
"No, too many of you lie and cheat. I'm not changing teams, just using men the way they like to use us." She clarified.
"I'm open to being used. I have NO strings of any kind and I make a career of not looking too hard for strings." I said with a shit eating grin.
"No, sorry, this is too easy for me and for you. Thanks for admiring me; your stares have given me some nice strokes to my ego."
"I can't stroke more than your ego?"
"That's cute, Key, but ... if you're ever around when I'm in need, I'll come for you." She said as she laughed and walked away down the aisle, happy she had teased and shot me down.
She got about 10 feet away and I added, "I know you'll cum, they all do. I work hard at that."
If she turned around to react to my double entendre I don't know, I spun and headed the other way. I already hoped I could run into her at some club some night, so I could shoot her down.
I finished my shopping and checked out and headed out to my car. When the double doors opened to let me into the outer store, where the carts were, she was there.
"OK, you intrigued me ... Zipless?" She said cryptically referring to Erica Jongs Flying.
"Fuck you." I said quietly as I continued out.
"That's the idea." She said as the automatic door closed behind me.
I looked through the window at her and said clearly so she could easily read my lips, "Suck my dick", and I walked to my car.
I said that because I already said "fuck you" and it was a way to say "I've had it with you, I'm done" because I don't play games. She lured me with her smile after she knew I admired her, and then she went out of her way to figuratively kick me in the balls.
As I put my bags in my trunk, where it was cooler, she came up to me again.
"OK, I'll do that. I deserved to be put in my place for teasing you and then turning you out. But next time I give you the smile, it's on my terms." She said contritely.
I looked at her questioningly not understanding WHAT she would do. But then I realized my mouthed words to her through the window.
"Right here?" I said nonchalantly like I got blowjobs daily in store parking lots.
She nodded and I added, "You would take me up on that? I said it to be hurtful, not as a request."
"I know, but I want to show you I'm serious. I would only want you for sex like men who hit on me as if I'm always available to satisfy their needs." She said with a bit of resignation and a pout.
"Then you misunderstood my ogling. When I looked at you with my hungry eyes I said to myself, "nice tits, great ass, classy babe" and I intended to bring it no further. YOU gave me the eye and the smile and then either there was a string of coincidences or you follow me every day. Your smile and look I got 3 or 4 days this week told me you wanted me, and then YOU approached ME. I didn't act, you did. Then you took great joy in shooting me down." I quietly explained, not raising my voice to be sure she knew I meant no harm or disrespect to her by my initial actions.
"I'm aware of all of that. I fucked up and I would still like to have a nice no guilt, no strings, no questions asked afternoon with you. I'll suck your dick right now to show you I am serious and not the tease you picture in your mind right now. I'm new at this. The fact there's a tan line on my ring finger should tell you that. Don't think it will be a punishment for me, I like giving blowjobs. I'm in a subservient position, but I clearly have all the control. I like that."
"Suppose he puts a hand on the back of your head, who's in control then?" I asked, even though I wasn't one of those guys.
"With his balls in my hand and the teeth in my mouth, he's taking a chance. But I know you aren't one of those guys. I read personality's pretty well. So, ... right here in the parking lot or you never have a shot at me." She said flashing that cute smile again.
"That's quite an ultimatum. I'll drive to the far corner of the lot. Will you walk, ride, or drive?"
"Trying to find my level of trust with you Key? I'll ride. My grocery's are in a cooler in my trunk."
I shut my trunk and opened her door and she got in, thanking me as if we were going out on a date or something. I started my car and drove to the exit.
"Worried?" I asked, since I didn't drive to the corner of the lot.
"No, I think you'll pull into the delivery entrance to get behind the store. Less conspicuous. If you just drove to the far side you might draw attention." She said as she fumbled in her purse and took out lip gloss as she smiled knowing she was right.
I did as she predicted and pulled around to the side of the store, just out of the sightline from the parking lot. I pulled straight in to give us cover if there was a security camera on the side of the building. They could guess what was going on, but they wouldn't know.
Natalie finished putting on her lip gloss and put it back in her purse and put it on the floor in front of her as I stopped the car angled just enough to see if someone approached from the front, I could see behind us in the mirror and were hidden from a camera. I let the seat back and looked at her.
She smiled and acted like she was waiting for me to do something.
I smiled back and she began to adjust herself in the seat to lean over.
"I haven't done this in a car since the drive-ins in high school. I was very popular." She said with a giggle as she leaned over and took hold of my belt buckle.
She worked the buckle open, undid the clasp, and lowered my fly.
"No undies, I like that." She said before taking me in her hand and stroking me a few times before licking the tip as if to test for cleanliness.
She adjusted her butt in the seat one more time and filled her mouth with everything I had at the moment. I realized how long it had been since I had been with a woman when all that blood rushed to the epicenter so fast. God, she felt good!
She went down as far as she could and sucked up like eating a fudgsicle on a hot day. All the way down and then all the way off, her lips compressing to give me maximum pleasure.
I groaned in appreciation and reached under her to hold one of her tits. She came up immediately and looked me in the eye. "Please don't. I'm trying to concentrate on you and I don't need anything else to distract me. I'm doing this for you and for me, I'll get my own satisfactions."
I quickly pulled my hand away and began to enjoy the bobbing of her head over me. Both of her hands were on my legs and she was all mouth. I have to tell you, it was quite amazing. Most every woman uses her hand at least 50% of the time but she was varying her suction on the down and up strokes and was going to get me fairly quickly. I usually end up having to use my hand to finish with my fellator and she was going to need no such help.
I tried to keep my eyes on the lot and the mirror to see behind me, but she was making it hard to concentrate on anything else. I wanted to reach and hold one of her tits again, but I remembered her earlier admonishment, but looking down over her back as she bent over in the seat I saw where her slacks had ridden down and a little blue panty was showing with the very top of her crack visible. Her ass flowered into a wide wonderful set of cheeks that I would have loved to bury my face in. That thought and the urging of her mouth had me on the precipice of my orgasm.
"Ohhhh, Natalie! Your talented mouth is going to get a big ... OHHHHHH!" I started to say when I shot off in her mouth.
She seemed not to be surprised and showed no reaction to my cumming in her mouth. She only paused for a moment and I heard her swallow hard two times and then proceed to nurse on me until I was entirely through and beginning to try to back off from her super-sensitive after-teasings.
She sat up and went for her purse on the floor and took out a tissue and she wiped her mouth before sitting back up in the seat and tried to catch her breath.
"You didn't have to warn me, I knew you were close. I love that moment. I could slice off your balls at that point and you wouldn't care. Imagine how sensitive my clit is and you're as sensitive on the tip and it's thirty times bigger than my clit. Guys are lucky, but I like getting them. Bring me to my car. The next time I flirt I hope you take the bait."
She had me so drained I could barely feel my legs as I drove across the lot to her car. I couldn't think of what I wanted to say when she beat me to final words.
"You have a nice dick. I hope you know how to use it as well as I do." She said with that cute teasing smile and she got out of the car and walked to hers.
It was barely after 1p.m. and I hadn't written a word, but I bought my dinner and had the best blowjob in my memory. (Is there a bad blowjob?) I drove home, put my lobster and groceries away, made a cole slaw and baked my corn bread. I sat at the typewriter about 3 o'clock and fell asleep until almost 7. A charmed life indeed.
As I lay in bed that night I couldn't fall asleep thinking about a few things that troubled me. Like, how could such a sweet face and smile be such a naughty lady? Now THAT I know is a silly question to ask because nearly every woman I've been with, from the sweet innocent little 90 pound blond who people mistook for my daughter, to the dark haired librarian type that actually moved in for 7 months a few years ago, has been like a porn star behind closed doors asking for everything from anal sex, bondage, and spanking to threesomes with another man or woman. I know once the sexual juices start flowing that there are no boundaries and I am quite able and willing to accept that because of my own tastes, wants, and needs.
I also didn't think this woman, Natalie (if that was her actual name), was exactly a tramp who threw herself at men. I got the impression she just got out of a bad marriage and hadn't been too promiscuous before that. She just seemed too sweet, but she also seemed to want to get back onto the sexual highway and enjoy herself a little without commitments. She was certainly appreciative of the ogling looks I gave her that made her feel like a vibrant woman. What also bothered me was that everything I knew about her could be a lie, and maybe just a lonely housewife looking for a fling. For certain, she wanted a certain anonymity, and so did I.
As I finally went to sleep thinking about her, the word I settled on to describe her best was "wholesome". She was the girl in the toothpaste commercial, the chewing gum commercial, or playing tennis in the tampon ad. What sort of man cheats on a woman like that, especially when it's obvious she seems to be a sexual tiger? Her personality was outgoing and peppy, plus she seemed to be a smart woman too.
During my morning coffee as I went over in my head my thoughts from the night before, my inner conscience brought forth one major realization. I visually admire scores of women every day and she was the first to actually realize it. I add little side comments under my breath, but usually aloud, all day long as I approach or pass by someone who catches my eye. I might even turn and follow a nice derriere just to see what her front looks like, or the other way around too. But it's never obvious. Actually SHE seemed to be stalking me, but I know there is NO WAY she could know where I might have shown on any day this week. It was apparent that she shopped like me, for a day or so at a time. I never went out for a big grocery order. It was my way to be sure I got out.
The weekend came and went and while I didn't get out in my car anywhere, my neighbors kept me busy with a pizza invite on Friday night, a Saturday barbeque to celebrate a birthday, and asked to help chaperone on Sunday afternoon for a minor league baseball game with the little league team my neighbor coached. Obviously I got little writing done, but I got a lot of little observations dictated into my electronic note pad for my weekly column on life in general.
By noon on Monday I had my column done and I sent it off to my agent who would submit it for me. I waited for the mailman to come to get my royalty checks from my publisher. My fees for my column were electronically transferred by my agent. I didn't set up direct deposit with the publisher for the express reason to get me out of the house once a week to the bank.
I had clipped a couple coupons from Sunday's paper for PriceCutter, one for their ground beef in 5 pound packages that I could portion out and freeze, another for sour cream, so I was off to there after the bank. (I saw ground beef stroganoff in my future, such a gourmand!) While looking to the right size package in the meat department a mousy little blond stood beside me. As she bent over the case her loose fitting top showed lovely sized breasts that wagged unencumbered in her low cut shirt. She obviously had rushed out to shop, her hair looked like she stirred it with a spoon and she wore no make-up to cover a couple blemishes on her cheek. She put one meat package in her cart and I turned to see her skinny ass and noticed a small child in the seat on her cart. The cute little blond headed boy appeared to be around 18 months old. She turned back to get another look at the hamburger as I took the package I wanted and walked past her cart to mine. I did pause to say quietly to the little boy, who obviously would not understand my words, "your mama has nice titties but she should fix herself up before going out." I smiled to myself proudly.
I turned down the dairy aisle and saw a shapely, but wide ass bending over the sour cream and cottage cheese cold rack. "Well," I thought to myself, "there's a behind I would mind rippling with my pubic bone." She stood and turned to show me she was an older woman, maybe 55 or 60, but well maintained. As she walked past me I said, again under my breath, "If I were to fuck a senior, you, sweetcheeks, would be high on my list."
I headed for the end of the aisle to the checkout when I saw a lovely brunette with a nice ass looking at flowers in the floral dept. She had dark blue shorts that seemed to cover only 3 or 4 inches below her cheeks and a clingy sweater type top. She put her hands on her hips and looked at two possibilities of arrangements, swaying one way, then the other as she pictured them where she might display them. I thought to myself, "come on honey turn around and show me the rest of you."
Then as if on command she did turn and BOOM, it was Natalie! She smiled that smile and winked, turning back to her flowers.
"I couldn't help but notice you look my way. Can I help you make a choice?" I asked.
Natalie blushed and looked startled at first, but then said, "Oh, could you? Which do you think would go against a white wall with burgundy carpeting?"
"You", I whispered boldly, "Bent over with your shorts around your ankles."
Her blush turned deeper and her arms suddenly had to cross over her breasts holding her hands underneath, almost in her arm pit, I suspect in an effort to avoid doing what she wanted with them, grab her pussy to solve a sudden itch.
"Are, ... are y ... you going to check out now?" She asked, stuttering nervously as I nodded.
"Can I meet you in the cart area?" She asked, happy to give me the upper hand.
I realized then she wanted to be picked up and dominated. Not dominated in the sense of being tied or degraded, but dominated as in being subservient to both her and my sexual needs. I really liked this new thing for me because besides a few bar pick-ups, I wasn't exactly a pick-up artist, just not my style. Even here, she TOLD me how to pick her up and she was well aware that if she shot me down I would never give her a second look again. The best thing was, I didn't have to worry about her hounding me, or trying to establish something meaningful, she had no interest in a relationship and neither did I. We both looked for no-strings sexual satisfaction.
As I went through the check-out I saw her in a line just a few stalls up from me. She kept nervously looking up at me, but I averted my eyes each time she did. Her order was even smaller than mine and she was out the double doors and sitting where people normally sat waiting for a cab, or for someone to come around with the car. I pushed my cart right up beside her and stood while she sat. She looked straight into my crotch before raising her eyes to me.
"Your place?" I asked.
"Yes, that could work."
"Any husband or children home?"
"No, I told you, we split up. He wanted someone younger. My daughter is away at boarding school."
"He's a fool." I added before saying, "Any neighbors to worry about?"