in and I ignored her, hoping to make it into the house
without having to speak to her.
No such luck, she was hollering before I even had my car
door closed. “Kris! Kris!”
Fuck , I muttered under my breath. Sending a prayer up
to the unknown to help me keep my temper, I met her at the fence.
“Something I can help you with?”
“Well, I just wanted to let you know that my nephew is in
town. You remember, the doctor?”
Oh god, not another of her not-so-subtle attempts at hooking
me up. Then a stroke of genius struck me.
“Actually, Mrs. Harris, I have a date tonight.”
Her face fell and I tried not to get too much satisfaction
from it. “Oh?”
I knew she wanted details but I was just perverse enough to
deny her. “I have to run. Have a nice evening, Mrs. Harris.” Before she could
utter another word, I hightailed it in the side door and closed it with more
force than necessary. I was immediately thankful that she hadn’t noticed my
fucked-up car yet or I would have never gotten away from her.
Dropping my purse and the one bag of groceries I had—one of
the advantages of living alone—I headed for the stairs and a shower. Stripping
down to nothing, I stared at my body in the full-length mirror. I didn’t look
bad for being on the close side of forty, my breasts still firm and high and
gravity not taking its toll yet.
My hips had widened some and I swore that my ass got bigger
every day, but all in all I still looked good in the buff. My hair was by far
my best asset, long and blonde, naturally blonde, thank you very much. It was
curly and tended to do what it wanted and I had given up years ago trying to
tame it.
My hair did make me look younger than I was, which was fine
with me, and my big blue eyes usually got me what I wanted if I batted them a
few times. But I vowed not to use them unless it was a dire emergency. I wasn’t
about to be lumped in with those whining girls from this afternoon.
Lying to Mrs. Harris about a date was purely
self-preservation. But as the water coursed over me and cooled what was left of
my anger, I wished that I did have a date that night, with Mark Walker.
Mr. Police Officer had been one of the sexiest men I had
come across in a long while, besides the fact that it had been a long ten
months since I had a man in my bed. Visions of that sexy man naked before me
had me wet and aching in moments.
I had gone on a few dates since the big “D” but hadn’t made
any lasting connections with them, the words of my ex-husband echoing in my
head and still leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Why can’t you be like
other women? Stop swearing like some whore!
James had wanted a quiet, submissive woman in bed and out of
it. I regretted ever asking him if he wanted to play around with sub/Dom games.
It had unleashed a cruel side of him I had never known was there.
The more I tried to please him, the further away I got from
my own desires. James had been imaginative in bed and that was putting it
nicely. He had constantly found new ways to humiliate me, even when we were out
in public. It had firmly closed the door on my newfound interest. I had let it go
and hadn’t thought about it again, until today.
I had learned by way of experience that most men were more
trouble than they were worth. Repeated disappointment and unsatisfying sexual
encounters led to staying home with my vibrator as my only company. It got the
job done but I was suddenly craving more. I wondered if there really were men
out there who could be dominant and not be assholes, or if the erotic stories I
read were all bullshit.
Stepping out of the shower and throwing on a light summer
dress, I skipped a bra and panties. The dress was a gauzy material with a
halter top but a dark-blue so it wasn’t see-through, unless it was wet. But it
was comfortable and I didn’t have any plans for the rest of the day.
I took care of the few groceries I had bought, mostly
yogurt, and made a fruity drink. The little white
without having to speak to her.
No such luck, she was hollering before I even had my car
door closed. “Kris! Kris!”
Fuck , I muttered under my breath. Sending a prayer up
to the unknown to help me keep my temper, I met her at the fence.
“Something I can help you with?”
“Well, I just wanted to let you know that my nephew is in
town. You remember, the doctor?”
Oh god, not another of her not-so-subtle attempts at hooking
me up. Then a stroke of genius struck me.
“Actually, Mrs. Harris, I have a date tonight.”
Her face fell and I tried not to get too much satisfaction
from it. “Oh?”
I knew she wanted details but I was just perverse enough to
deny her. “I have to run. Have a nice evening, Mrs. Harris.” Before she could
utter another word, I hightailed it in the side door and closed it with more
force than necessary. I was immediately thankful that she hadn’t noticed my
fucked-up car yet or I would have never gotten away from her.
Dropping my purse and the one bag of groceries I had—one of
the advantages of living alone—I headed for the stairs and a shower. Stripping
down to nothing, I stared at my body in the full-length mirror. I didn’t look
bad for being on the close side of forty, my breasts still firm and high and
gravity not taking its toll yet.
My hips had widened some and I swore that my ass got bigger
every day, but all in all I still looked good in the buff. My hair was by far
my best asset, long and blonde, naturally blonde, thank you very much. It was
curly and tended to do what it wanted and I had given up years ago trying to
tame it.
My hair did make me look younger than I was, which was fine
with me, and my big blue eyes usually got me what I wanted if I batted them a
few times. But I vowed not to use them unless it was a dire emergency. I wasn’t
about to be lumped in with those whining girls from this afternoon.
Lying to Mrs. Harris about a date was purely
self-preservation. But as the water coursed over me and cooled what was left of
my anger, I wished that I did have a date that night, with Mark Walker.
Mr. Police Officer had been one of the sexiest men I had
come across in a long while, besides the fact that it had been a long ten
months since I had a man in my bed. Visions of that sexy man naked before me
had me wet and aching in moments.
I had gone on a few dates since the big “D” but hadn’t made
any lasting connections with them, the words of my ex-husband echoing in my
head and still leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Why can’t you be like
other women? Stop swearing like some whore!
James had wanted a quiet, submissive woman in bed and out of
it. I regretted ever asking him if he wanted to play around with sub/Dom games.
It had unleashed a cruel side of him I had never known was there.
The more I tried to please him, the further away I got from
my own desires. James had been imaginative in bed and that was putting it
nicely. He had constantly found new ways to humiliate me, even when we were out
in public. It had firmly closed the door on my newfound interest. I had let it go
and hadn’t thought about it again, until today.
I had learned by way of experience that most men were more
trouble than they were worth. Repeated disappointment and unsatisfying sexual
encounters led to staying home with my vibrator as my only company. It got the
job done but I was suddenly craving more. I wondered if there really were men
out there who could be dominant and not be assholes, or if the erotic stories I
read were all bullshit.
Stepping out of the shower and throwing on a light summer
dress, I skipped a bra and panties. The dress was a gauzy material with a
halter top but a dark-blue so it wasn’t see-through, unless it was wet. But it
was comfortable and I didn’t have any plans for the rest of the day.
I took care of the few groceries I had bought, mostly
yogurt, and made a fruity drink. The little white
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