I had known M for several months. We had met a couple of times for lunch, a couple of times for several hours of hotel room fun, and once for early morning coffee, so when he said he wanted to meet for coffee before work, I assumed that is exactly what it would be - some coffee and friendly chat before work.
I arrived at Starbucks before him. He was delayed by traffic so he called and we chatted on the phone while he drove. One of the many things I loved about M was that he was so easy to talk to. Conversation with him seemed natural, like we'd known each other much longer than we had. When he finally arrived, he parked next to me in the parking lot and we both got out of our vehicles to greet each other.
He greeted me with a kiss, as he always did, but not just a normal kiss. It was one of M's deep, probing, long, wet kisses that said, "Ive been waiting forever for this moment." The first thing you need to know about M is that he's one of the best kissers I've ever met. Correction - He is the best kisser I've ever met. Whenever he kissed me, I melted. Anything I was thinking about or planning before that moment evaporated and I became putty in his arms. And he knew it.
As he was kissing me, he reached behind my head, entwined his fingers in my hair, and firmly pulled my hair, holding me so I couldn't pull away from his kiss. My excitement began to crescendo immediately. I never understood the connection between pulling my hair and making my pussy wet, but M clearly got it, and he never failed to use it to his advantage.
I think I would have been content to just stand there between our two cars kissing all day, but eventually he pulled away, took my hand, and started leading me into the coffee shop. Inside, he confirmed my favorite coffee order (yes, he remembered) and told me to find a place to sit while he got our coffee. I picked the nice leather sofa, and curled up in one corner of it while I waited.
Within a few minutes, he had our coffee and he joined me on the sofa, sitting close, our legs touching. We enjoyed our coffee and talked about work, our families, life in general. And I laughed. That's the next thing you should know about M. He made me laugh, which I loved. When work was really stressful, I could count on him to get me laughing and back to a reasonably relaxed state of mind. One of the times we met for sex, we played around and then we just laid there talking and laughing for the longest time. That is still one of my favorite memories.
While we were talking, M started to trace his hand up my thigh - gently, slowly, very lightly. Then he leaned over to kiss me. It was another one of those amazing deep kisses of his. I started to lean into it when I remembered where we were. Starbucks was pretty crowded. There were people all around us at tables and in line. I self-consciously started to pull away, but he stopped me with his arm around my back, and he whispered firmly, "Don't you dare pull away from me." I relaxed back into his kiss, deciding to tune out the crowd. I didn't know anyone there anyway. Then he moved his hand further up my thigh and started rubbing his finger gently on my groin. I instinctively started pulling back again, but he held me again and said "I told you not to pull away from me...." and I moaned quietly, surrendering. By the time he stopped, I was warm, moist, and distracted.
We finished our coffee and chatted some more before heading outside again. We walked to his car and he opened the passenger door for me. I got in and he leaned over and started kissing me again. Soon, his hand was pulling up my skirt and sliding under my panties. I knew better than to pull away, so I opened my legs for him and felt his large strong hand slide over my pussy. His fingers started probing. He knew me well enough to know exactly the right spot, the right pressure, and the right speed....and he never stopped kissing me. I completely forgot we were in a parking lot with people coming and going to get their morning coffee. There was only him, his mouth, and the amazing pleasure he was giving me. It didn't take long for me to come. I asked his permission first, as I always did; he granted it and smiled, and I moaned into our kiss while I let go and came for him.
While I adjusted my panties and skirt, he walked around to the driver's side and got in. He leaned over and kissed me again. I reached down and stroked his very hard cock through his pants. He looked around. No, it was much too crowded here. He started the car and drove behind the building. He found a very convenient, isolated spot, parked, pushed his seat back, and unfastened his pants. I leaned over to take his cock into my mouth as he grabbed my hair and guided me down to him. He was already very, very hard. I licked off the precum and dove right in, knowing that we didn't have much time, certainly not enough time for the teasing I normally liked to do with my mouth.
The first time the head hit the back of my throat, I heard him moan loudly. I focused on long, slow, deep strokes until his hand on my head and the upward thrust of his hips indicated he wanted more. I let him control the speed and the depth with his hand in my hair. Faster with shallow strokes, then slower with deeper ones. I swallowed on the deeper strokes, relishing the feeling of his shuddering every time. As he came, he held my head firmly down on his cock; I swallowed eagerly, kissing and licking his cock gently afterward.
After, he leaned forward and kissed me again...Mmmmm...that kiss.....
Then he adjusted his clothes, pulled his seat forward again, and drove us back to where my car was parked. We kissed again for a few more minutes, chatted some more, and then it was time to go. We both had to get to work. I got into my car, and we both drove away. He went his way, and I went mine.
As I was driving to work, I thought every morning should start with Starbucks.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
What Women Really Want in Bed
This is a topic that I knew I'd have to tackle at some point, but it's a difficult one because every woman is different. Still, I think it's possible to make some generalizations that can shed some light on a few things for you dogs (men) out there who are trying to figure us out.
The first thing you need to do is set aside what you want in bed, at least for the moment. While there are some striking similarities, men and women are different (I hope that isn't news to you). For most of the men I've met, sex is good if they come. Period. It's great if they come more than once. We women are a little more complicated than that. Here are a few of our secrets:
And isn't that what you really want?
The first thing you need to do is set aside what you want in bed, at least for the moment. While there are some striking similarities, men and women are different (I hope that isn't news to you). For most of the men I've met, sex is good if they come. Period. It's great if they come more than once. We women are a little more complicated than that. Here are a few of our secrets:
- Women want to have orgasms, too. The women who are reading this will think this is obvious, but it's simply not obvious to many men. Your wife may have convinced you that it's ok if she doesn't come every time, and it is, but that shouldn't be the norm. Here's how I explained it to my husband: Imagine that you're having sex and everything is going well. Your partner comes, and is very satisfied. Then it's over. Would that be ok with you? Maybe, depending on the situation. Would you consider it good sex? What's that? "Hell no!" you say? What if it happened every other time or, God forbid, every time? Get the point? Interestingly, many men will move heaven and earth to make sure their girlfriend comes, but they won't take the time to make their wife come. Then they call her "frigid."
- What women want most of all from sex within the context of a relationship is to make an emotional connection. Notice that I said "sex within the context of a relationship." A roll in the hay with a stranger is different. Whether the relationship is a marriage, an affair, or a friends-with-benefits situation, it's still about making an emotional connection for the woman. This is how you got confused when we told you it was ok if we didn't come every time, because our primary need is connection and relationship. The physical part, for most women, is still important, but it's secondary. So, how do you build that connection? Read on.
- Women want to be kissed. Kissing is a very intimate act. It says passion. It says, "I want you." If you have an aversion to kissing, get over it. I have known some women and men who refuse to kiss during sex outside the context of marriage because it's too intimate for them. All I can say to that is, "Well, you won't be having sex with me because kissing is mandatory." Of course, I'm married to a non-kisser so I won't put up with lack of kissing from a lover.
- Women want to be held. Yes, boys, that means cuddling to some degree. Why do we want this? Because it makes us feel safe. It makes us feel wanted. Trust me on this - you want us to feel safe and wanted. When we feel safe and wanted, we want to make you feel good.
- Women want to be seen and treated as a lover. It's easy to treat your honey-on-the-side as a lover because you don't see her cleaning up the dog shit or your kid's vomit, but your wife needs you to see her - and treat her - that way, too. If you treat us as if we are the sexiest lovers in the world, it is highly likely that we will be. If you treat us like we're your housekeeper whose job right now is to satisfy you sexually, don't be surprised when we lack enthusiasm. Yeah, we'll probably do it. Why? Because we crave that emotional connection (see # 2, above), but we won't be into it.
- Women want variety. You may love that one position every time...for years...but it drives us nuts. A little creativity goes a long way. We want to try out different positions and some toys, too. Also, I don't believe the good Lord gave me three places perfectly suited for a nice hard cock just so only one would be used. I know not all women agree with this, but it's my blog, so what the hell...
- Multiorgasmic women want to come more than once. For most multiorgasmic women, the first orgasm isn't the best one. The really good one is number 2 or 3 (sometimes 4). This is hard for most men to understand because you boys aren't blessed with the whole multi-orgasm gift. Stopping after the first one is a lot like stopping after really good foreplay and not coming at all.
- Women want to be touched - in lots of places, not just "down there." Some of us have extremely sensitive nipples and really get into sex if you pay with, suck, lick, and bite them. Some women go wild if you play with and kiss our necks and ears. Others want their thighs involved in the touching. It may take you some time to discover where your wife or lover most prefers to be touched, but it will pay off. Oh yeah, touching in other places is important, but don't forget to touch "down there," too.
- Women want the man to take the lead. I know this one is going to get me in trouble, but I'm standing by it. Sure, there are dominant women, but most of us are not sexually dominant. This doesn't mean that all women want to be dominated in an BDSM sense, but we do want a man to "be a man," so to speak. This also doesn't mean that there won't be times when your wife or lover will want to take the lead, but this is the exception, I believe (part of that variety thing; see number 6, above). Be sensitive, but confident. Gently take charge of the situation (or more roughly, if both of you are into that) and most women will melt into your arms.
- Women want you to take your time. Sure, there are times when a quickie can be fun, but if your whole sex life is about quickies, she's not happy. Foreplay matters (hey, that sounds like a great title and topic for another Kat post, doesn't it?). So does the afterplay. And if you're in a hurry and fingering her clit really fast and hard so she'll hurry up and come so you can get yours, it probably isn't going to happen. If you can't devote at least 30 minutes to getting her in the mood with kissing and foreplay and making her come as part of the warm-up, then maybe you shouldn't even start.
And isn't that what you really want?
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Sunday, February 13, 2011
Q&A from Kat's Mail Bag
I get some pretty interesting questions via email and DM on Twitter. I do my best to personally answer every one, but I thought it might also be interesting to share some of those questions and answers with everyone. Some of them will end up becoming full posts, like the one that DauntlessD answered about getting your profile noticed, but many are just quick answers that don't necessarily warrant a full post, at least not now.
Question: Is that your picture on the blog? If so, you're hot! If not, why don't you put your own picture up?
Answer: Sorry, but that's not my photo. It's actually a stock photo I found online. I don't put my own picture up because I'm married, silly, and I'm prowling on the side. This blog is risky enough without putting my photo up, too. I have considered posting a faceless naughty photo or two of me. I'm still thinking about that. We'll see.
Question: Is that your picture on the blog? If so, you're hot! If not, why don't you put your own picture up?
Answer: Sorry, but that's not my photo. It's actually a stock photo I found online. I don't put my own picture up because I'm married, silly, and I'm prowling on the side. This blog is risky enough without putting my photo up, too. I have considered posting a faceless naughty photo or two of me. I'm still thinking about that. We'll see.
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Question: How many guys do you prowl around with at one time?
Answer: One. I know. That may kill the image, but I prefer to focus my efforts. That doesn't mean I don't do my share of flirting, but I have one honey-on-the-side, and only one. I'm hoping my current one lasts a long, long time.
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Question: Are the stories on your blog real experiences or are they made up?
Answer: My stories are always real. We may have a guest poster from time to time who posts a fictional fantasy story, but I'll always tell you when that's the case. If I write it, though, it really happened at some point in my married life.
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Question: Have you ever been caught?
Answer: No (knock on wood).
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Question: Is J still your best sex ever?
Answer: Yes. But I'm hoping my honey-on-the-side might step up to that challenge. ;-)
I intentionally left out all the "Wanna fuck?" questions, and all variations of it. Those boys need to read my post on lousy pick-up lines.
If you have a question, drop me an email or ask it in the comments. You'll get an answer.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Top 5 Posts for Last Week
Another week has come and gone and another is starting. Here are the top 5 most read posts for last week, just in case you missed them.
10 Tips for Cheating on Your Spouse
Wrong Number, Right Man (Part 1) - A Naughty Adventure
Wrong Number, Right Man (Part 2) - A Naughty Adventure
Finding the Time to Cheat - Another Guest Post from Chimpernel!
Wrong Number, Right Man - Epilogue
10 Tips for Cheating on Your Spouse
Wrong Number, Right Man (Part 1) - A Naughty Adventure
Wrong Number, Right Man (Part 2) - A Naughty Adventure
Finding the Time to Cheat - Another Guest Post from Chimpernel!
Wrong Number, Right Man - Epilogue
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Lying and Cheating
I hate lying. In fact, I am really a pretty honest person. Ok, you can stop laughing now. I know it sounds strange to say I am an honest person when the act of prowling like I do is inherently dishonest, but this is one of the strange contradictions of the prowling lifestyle. Can you love your spouse and still have sex with (or, God forbid, love) someone else? Sure you can. Can you be a basically honest person while lying to your spouse just about every day to hide your extramarital activities?
The other evening, I was sitting on the couch next to my husband while I was text chatting on my mobile phone with my honey-on-the-side. When my husband asked who I was chatting with, I said, "A friend." He was satisfied with that answer at the time, but I was prepared with an alternative, if necessary. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, of course. The whole truth would have been something like, "A friend whose cock I really wish I were sucking right now." He doesn't need to hear the whole truth, does he? I don't think so.
This doesn't mean that I'm comfortable lying to my husband because I'm not. Once my husband asked where I was right after I returned from a rendezvous. I had my story prepared and it rolled of my tongue easily and casually. I felt a stabbing pang of guilt, not because of the cheating, but because of the lying. In fact, I would like nothing better than to be able to tell him the truth and for him to be ok with it, but I know he wouldn't be. I know he would be very hurt, and I don't want to hurt him. For those of you thinking, "Well, if you don't want to hurt him, you should just stop what you're doing," you should read my post Why Kat Prowls.
I've also heard people say that infidelity automatically weakens a marriage, even if it is never discovered, precisely because of the dishonesty. I disagree. I'm sure that this may be the case for some people, but it's not my story. I have been married for approaching 25 years to a wonderful man I love very much. I have been prowling, on and off, for about 14 of those years. My husband is happy. He gets all the sex he wants (which isn't much) and so do I (which is a lot). The only secrets I keep from him are those related to my extramarital sexual activity. We share everything else.
I've known men whose marriages actually got better after having an affair because it took the pressure off the sex argument at home and they could really start appreciating their wives again. Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but wake up. Life is not black and white. I'm not arguing that infidelity is right or moral, simply that it doesn't have to mean the end of a marriage.
I don't pretend to have all of the answers. If I did, maybe I would have found a way to get all of my sexual and relationship needs met within the context of my marriage, but I haven't.
I still hate the lying, but I'm hoping to meet my honey-on-the-side this week or next week for some incredibly satisfying sex and I'll lie again if I have to.
So, back to the question I posed at the beginning of this post. What do you think? Can you be a basically honest person while lying to your spouse to hide your extramarital activities?
.
The other evening, I was sitting on the couch next to my husband while I was text chatting on my mobile phone with my honey-on-the-side. When my husband asked who I was chatting with, I said, "A friend." He was satisfied with that answer at the time, but I was prepared with an alternative, if necessary. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, of course. The whole truth would have been something like, "A friend whose cock I really wish I were sucking right now." He doesn't need to hear the whole truth, does he? I don't think so.
This doesn't mean that I'm comfortable lying to my husband because I'm not. Once my husband asked where I was right after I returned from a rendezvous. I had my story prepared and it rolled of my tongue easily and casually. I felt a stabbing pang of guilt, not because of the cheating, but because of the lying. In fact, I would like nothing better than to be able to tell him the truth and for him to be ok with it, but I know he wouldn't be. I know he would be very hurt, and I don't want to hurt him. For those of you thinking, "Well, if you don't want to hurt him, you should just stop what you're doing," you should read my post Why Kat Prowls.
I've also heard people say that infidelity automatically weakens a marriage, even if it is never discovered, precisely because of the dishonesty. I disagree. I'm sure that this may be the case for some people, but it's not my story. I have been married for approaching 25 years to a wonderful man I love very much. I have been prowling, on and off, for about 14 of those years. My husband is happy. He gets all the sex he wants (which isn't much) and so do I (which is a lot). The only secrets I keep from him are those related to my extramarital sexual activity. We share everything else.
I've known men whose marriages actually got better after having an affair because it took the pressure off the sex argument at home and they could really start appreciating their wives again. Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but wake up. Life is not black and white. I'm not arguing that infidelity is right or moral, simply that it doesn't have to mean the end of a marriage.
I don't pretend to have all of the answers. If I did, maybe I would have found a way to get all of my sexual and relationship needs met within the context of my marriage, but I haven't.
I still hate the lying, but I'm hoping to meet my honey-on-the-side this week or next week for some incredibly satisfying sex and I'll lie again if I have to.
So, back to the question I posed at the beginning of this post. What do you think? Can you be a basically honest person while lying to your spouse to hide your extramarital activities?
.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
10 Tips for Cheating on Your Spouse
Last month, I shared my top 10 rules for cheating and my advice for prowling men, but I still get questions about the logistics of cheating so I thought I would offer some tips.
Tip #1: If you haven't cheated yet, don't. This is a message you really can't miss if you have been reading this blog for more than 5 minutes. Once you have crossed the line of infidelity, it's easy to do it again and again and again. The easiest way to avoid becoming a chronic cheater (which is very, very risky to your marriage) is not to start. I know this is a very strange tip for cheaters, but I had to say it.
Tip #2: Keep an eye on your routine. One of the biggest giveaways of a cheating spouse is a change in routine. Most people are creatures of habit and they have a really hard time changing their routines even if they want to. If you suddenly start changing your routine without a word, it's a red flag.
Tip #3: Start building time into your schedule before you start cheating. Face it. Cheating takes time. You'll need to build some time into your schedule for it, but it can't be a sudden change in routine, so start building some time into your routine now. Start going to the gym or take a class. Start a hobby. In the early days of this, invite your spouse along so it's clear that it's legitimate.
Tip #4: Get a separate e-mail account. Open a separate email account for your extramarital activities. Use an easily hidden gmail or yahoo account and don't use your real name when you set up the account so it won't show to your email recipients.
Tip #5 : Consider getting a Google phone number for phone chatting and texting or get another cell phone. Remember, there will be a record of all phone calls and texts if you use your own cell phone. If the bill is sent to your house, even if you are the one who usually handles the bills, you would be stupid to use that phone for your prowling. There are risks to getting another phone, too, but that's a little safer.
Tip #6: Pay attention to how much time you spend online. You will be tempted to spend more time online chatting emailing with you new sweetie, but be very careful about this. Like a sudden change in routine, this is one of the biggest tells of a cheater. Force yourself to limit your online time or only go online when your spouse is not around.
Tip #7: Watch out for the laundry. If you are the one who typically does the laundry, great. Get those naughty clothes in the washer as soon as you get back from a rendezvous. If not, you need to find a way to deal with the laundry. Yes, there is a smell of sex, and even women who don't wear perfume often leave a distinctive scent of feminine shampoos, soaps, lotions, etc. By the way, if your new conquest is new to cheating, ask her not to wear perfume. She may not even think about it because applying perfume becomes a routine for many women.
Tip #8: Get a pre-paid credit card. I've mentioned this before. If you use one of your personal credit cards, you run a risk of getting caught. While you're at it, if you're serious about this, you'll also get a private P.O. box for mail. That's the address you give to hotel clerks who insist on having a mailing address. You don't want an unexpected bill or a "Thank You for Your Stay" postcard delivered to your house, do you?
Tip #9: Don't stop having sex (or attempting to have sex) with your spouse. Ok, you may be getting awesome sex regularly somewhere else now, but that doesn't mean you should stop developing intimacy with your spouse. Trust me, she will notice, and she will think something is wrong. Then she'll start paying attention to your behavior and every word you say, and that won't be good for your extramarital activities.
Tip #10: Be fully present with your family when you are with them. Assuming that you love your family and you want to stay married (which is exactly the assumption I make), you need to give your family as much of yourself as possible when you are with them. Watch out for daydreaming or sneaking away to chat or email (see tip #6) or running out on time with your kids just so you can grab a quick phone chat with your new honey. Be a decent husband and father (or wife and mother). While your fun on the side may be pretty exciting, don't forget what is most important in your life.
There are many more tips to share, so watch future posts for an ongoing list.
----------------------------------
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Tip #1: If you haven't cheated yet, don't. This is a message you really can't miss if you have been reading this blog for more than 5 minutes. Once you have crossed the line of infidelity, it's easy to do it again and again and again. The easiest way to avoid becoming a chronic cheater (which is very, very risky to your marriage) is not to start. I know this is a very strange tip for cheaters, but I had to say it.
Tip #2: Keep an eye on your routine. One of the biggest giveaways of a cheating spouse is a change in routine. Most people are creatures of habit and they have a really hard time changing their routines even if they want to. If you suddenly start changing your routine without a word, it's a red flag.
Tip #3: Start building time into your schedule before you start cheating. Face it. Cheating takes time. You'll need to build some time into your schedule for it, but it can't be a sudden change in routine, so start building some time into your routine now. Start going to the gym or take a class. Start a hobby. In the early days of this, invite your spouse along so it's clear that it's legitimate.
Tip #4: Get a separate e-mail account. Open a separate email account for your extramarital activities. Use an easily hidden gmail or yahoo account and don't use your real name when you set up the account so it won't show to your email recipients.
Tip #5 : Consider getting a Google phone number for phone chatting and texting or get another cell phone. Remember, there will be a record of all phone calls and texts if you use your own cell phone. If the bill is sent to your house, even if you are the one who usually handles the bills, you would be stupid to use that phone for your prowling. There are risks to getting another phone, too, but that's a little safer.
Tip #6: Pay attention to how much time you spend online. You will be tempted to spend more time online chatting emailing with you new sweetie, but be very careful about this. Like a sudden change in routine, this is one of the biggest tells of a cheater. Force yourself to limit your online time or only go online when your spouse is not around.
Tip #7: Watch out for the laundry. If you are the one who typically does the laundry, great. Get those naughty clothes in the washer as soon as you get back from a rendezvous. If not, you need to find a way to deal with the laundry. Yes, there is a smell of sex, and even women who don't wear perfume often leave a distinctive scent of feminine shampoos, soaps, lotions, etc. By the way, if your new conquest is new to cheating, ask her not to wear perfume. She may not even think about it because applying perfume becomes a routine for many women.
Tip #8: Get a pre-paid credit card. I've mentioned this before. If you use one of your personal credit cards, you run a risk of getting caught. While you're at it, if you're serious about this, you'll also get a private P.O. box for mail. That's the address you give to hotel clerks who insist on having a mailing address. You don't want an unexpected bill or a "Thank You for Your Stay" postcard delivered to your house, do you?
Tip #9: Don't stop having sex (or attempting to have sex) with your spouse. Ok, you may be getting awesome sex regularly somewhere else now, but that doesn't mean you should stop developing intimacy with your spouse. Trust me, she will notice, and she will think something is wrong. Then she'll start paying attention to your behavior and every word you say, and that won't be good for your extramarital activities.
Tip #10: Be fully present with your family when you are with them. Assuming that you love your family and you want to stay married (which is exactly the assumption I make), you need to give your family as much of yourself as possible when you are with them. Watch out for daydreaming or sneaking away to chat or email (see tip #6) or running out on time with your kids just so you can grab a quick phone chat with your new honey. Be a decent husband and father (or wife and mother). While your fun on the side may be pretty exciting, don't forget what is most important in your life.
There are many more tips to share, so watch future posts for an ongoing list.
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Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Wrong Number, Right Man - Epilogue
My adventures with Adam didn't end with our first meeting (To catch up, read Wrong Number, Right Man - Part 1 and Wrong Number, Right Man - Part 2.) He continued to call every Saturday afternoon for the next several months. Sometimes we would just chat for 30 minutes or so, and sometimes he would tell me to meet him at our spot at the river for some naughtier fun.
Then one week, for no reason that I know of, the Saturday afternoon call didn't come. The next week there was no call either. Or the next week. Or the next. It was about a month before I stopped arranging my Saturdays make sure I was home for his call.
I fully expected never to see or hear from him again, but one hot August day three years ago I was at the fair with my family. We were back in the livestock area so my youngest could see the animals when I heard that familiar, unmistakable voice. I turned around in time to see him lifting and moving a bale of hay, talking to his teenage son. The beard was gone, but he looked much the same except for that. He was there with his two boys and his wife, who was pushing a stroller with a toddler in it. Apparently, we both had added a child to our families since we last saw each other. His wife was a beautiful woman, much prettier than me, with long blond hair, a gorgeous figure, and green eyes that matched his.
He must have seen me while I was admiring his wife because I heard, "Can that be Kat?" I turned and caught his eye and we smiled at each other as everyone in both families looked at me.
"Long time, no see," I said.
He excused himself from his family for a moment and came over to the side of barn where I was standing with my husband and kids. He put his hand out to shake my husband's hand firmly and he introduced himself. "I'm Adam. Kat and I have done fundraising work together." I marveled at how smooth he was. Clearly he had practiced this or he had done it before. Could anybody just be that smooth and lie so easily naturally? After some introductions and polite niceties, he returned to his family.
I tried to pretend I was really interested in those animals as my youngest asked question after question about them. A few minutes later, I saw Adam put one arm around his wife and grab the stroller with the other hand, and start to leave the barn. He stopped and paused for a moment, and then he turned and said, "Hey Kat! I'll give you a call next Saturday." And then he was gone.
The following Saturday, at a very familiar time, the phone rang. By this time, we had caller ID and I recognized the number and answered quickly. I heard his deep, sexy voice say, "Well, hello, ma'am. Is Joe available?"
------------------------
I'd love to be able to tell you that our affair picked up right where it had left off, but that's not the case. I had taken a break from prowling, and I was trying very hard to be faithful to my husband for several years (you all know how that worked out, but hey, I tried). Adam and I enjoyed several nice Saturday phone calls over the next year, including some pretty hot phone sex, but by the following summer we had drifted apart. I haven't spoken with him since then.
I remember him fondly, though, whenever I drive by the river and whenever I get a wrong number phone call. Sometimes the wrong number is exactly the right number.
Then one week, for no reason that I know of, the Saturday afternoon call didn't come. The next week there was no call either. Or the next week. Or the next. It was about a month before I stopped arranging my Saturdays make sure I was home for his call.
I fully expected never to see or hear from him again, but one hot August day three years ago I was at the fair with my family. We were back in the livestock area so my youngest could see the animals when I heard that familiar, unmistakable voice. I turned around in time to see him lifting and moving a bale of hay, talking to his teenage son. The beard was gone, but he looked much the same except for that. He was there with his two boys and his wife, who was pushing a stroller with a toddler in it. Apparently, we both had added a child to our families since we last saw each other. His wife was a beautiful woman, much prettier than me, with long blond hair, a gorgeous figure, and green eyes that matched his.
He must have seen me while I was admiring his wife because I heard, "Can that be Kat?" I turned and caught his eye and we smiled at each other as everyone in both families looked at me.
"Long time, no see," I said.
He excused himself from his family for a moment and came over to the side of barn where I was standing with my husband and kids. He put his hand out to shake my husband's hand firmly and he introduced himself. "I'm Adam. Kat and I have done fundraising work together." I marveled at how smooth he was. Clearly he had practiced this or he had done it before. Could anybody just be that smooth and lie so easily naturally? After some introductions and polite niceties, he returned to his family.
I tried to pretend I was really interested in those animals as my youngest asked question after question about them. A few minutes later, I saw Adam put one arm around his wife and grab the stroller with the other hand, and start to leave the barn. He stopped and paused for a moment, and then he turned and said, "Hey Kat! I'll give you a call next Saturday." And then he was gone.
The following Saturday, at a very familiar time, the phone rang. By this time, we had caller ID and I recognized the number and answered quickly. I heard his deep, sexy voice say, "Well, hello, ma'am. Is Joe available?"
------------------------
I'd love to be able to tell you that our affair picked up right where it had left off, but that's not the case. I had taken a break from prowling, and I was trying very hard to be faithful to my husband for several years (you all know how that worked out, but hey, I tried). Adam and I enjoyed several nice Saturday phone calls over the next year, including some pretty hot phone sex, but by the following summer we had drifted apart. I haven't spoken with him since then.
I remember him fondly, though, whenever I drive by the river and whenever I get a wrong number phone call. Sometimes the wrong number is exactly the right number.
Wrong Number, Right Man (Part 2) - A Naughty Adventure
My mind was spinning as I was driving to the park. Here I was driving to a local park to meet someone I didn't know except for the little bit I'd learned about him from 8 or 9 phone conversations. As I drove, I replayed in my mind how a wrong number phone call became a rushed and excited trip to a park to meet someone I had never met before. That's when I realized that I was not exactly dressed for a first meeting.
I was wearing navy blue sweatpants and a light blue tank top. My hair was pulled up in the back with a claw clip, which I grabbed and pulled out, fluffing my hair, trying to look less like a dowdy middle-aged wife and mom, but knowing that a little hair fluff couldn't do that trick. I decided not to look in the rear view mirror or my nervousness would become panic and I probably wouldn't go through with it.
I arrived at the park and found a parking space. I scanned the parking lot, looking for anyone in a car or standing near a car. Nothing. I turned off the car and waited for a moment. Then I took a deep breath and got out of the car. I looked around. There were some kids playing, some families. There's no way I could have arrived before him, is there? I decided to just lean against the car and wait. I watched cars come and go. After about 10 minutes, I started wondering if I should just go.
I heard a truck door slam shut across the street behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a man looking right at me and walking straight toward me. He was between 5'10" and 6' tall, and he walked with a very confident gait. He was wearing jeans, a green t-shirt, tennis shoes; nothing special, but I could see that he was muscular - broad shoulders, strong arms, a little bit of a tummy (good, I thought, at least he's not perfect). His full beard was carefully manicured and, as he got closer, I could see the tiny bits of grey poking through it. Otherwise, it matched his auburn hair perfectly. I guessed he must have been in his mid-40's. How funny, I though to myself, that I never asked his age.
And that smile. And his green eyes. Wow. Yes, I think they actually twinkled. Then he spoke, and I would have recognized that voice anywhere. "You must be sweet Kat," he said. He hugged me - a decent, respectful hug, entirely suitable for public, except for the fact that it lingered a few seconds too long. As we hugged, I said, "I sure hope you're Joe." He laughed and whispered in my ear, "My name is Adam, but you can call me Joe as long as you want." He kissed my cheek before he pulled away, and he kept his hand on my waist while he continued to talk, standing just a little closer that he should have given the fact that we were at a park in broad daylight just two miles from my house.
"Let's get out of here," he suggested. "We can head down to the river and find a nice place to talk for a bit."
I told him that I was supposed to be running quickly to the grocery store, and that I should get home soon. He said I could call home with another excuse while he was getting something out of his truck. I can't even remember the excuse I gave my husband, but it was good enough to keep me out of the house for another couple of hours. I couldn't keep my eyes off of Joe...uh.. Adam as he walked.
He grabbed a blanket from the cab of his truck and came back across the street. He suggested we take my car because he knew I'd probably feel more comfortable that way. He was right, so we got in the car and he directed me where to drive. As I was driving, he rested his hand gently on my thigh.
It didn't take long for us to get to a secluded turnoff right off the river road. I made a mental note of the fact that you wouldn't be able to find this place unless you knew about it, so he must have been here before. As if he knew what I was thinking, he said, "I bring my boys here to fish. They like to think of it as our secret hideaway," and he flashed one of those million dollar smiles. I was pretty sure he had been here with someone other than his kids and that he did more than fish here, but I didn't care.
I pulled up close to the river, behind a row of trees. He got out of the car and spread out the blanket in front of the car, so we wouldn't be seen from the road, which would have been pretty difficult anyway due to all the trees and shrubbery. Then he took my hand and we sat down on the blanket. We kicked off our shoes and started talking. Surprisingly, it wasn't awkward at all. We had done so much talking over the last 8 weeks that it felt completely natural to just chit chat about nothing for a few minutes. He asked me a question about a some home improvement project I had been working on for several weeks, and while I was answering, he leaned over and kissed me.
It was one of those deep, wet kisses that starts off gently but quickly becomes forceful and urgent - my favorite kind, to tell the truth. How could he know that? In no time at all, he had my tank top and bra off, and one hand was exploring my breasts while the other was in my panties. He slid a finger inside me before I could protest, although at that point I knew I wouldn't have tried to stop him. He pushed his finger deep inside, then another, and another. I moaned.
"My, you're a very wet naughty Kat, aren't you?' he said. That charming southern drawl I was so used to had taken on an authoritative tone. I nodded my head and said, "Yes." He wasn't smiling anymore; instead, he was staring intently into my eyes. My breathing was shallow. I started rocking ever so slightly against his hand. Then he pulled his hand out of me and stood up, and snapped, "Take off your pants and panties and get on your hands and knees." It didn't occur to me not to do exactly what he said. I shimmied out of my pants and watched him pull of his t-shirt and jeans. His cock was nice and hard, about 7 inches, very thick, and curved just a little bit toward his belly. I smiled and rolled quickly onto my hands and knees.
I expected him to get behind me and fuck me, but he didn't. He knelt next to me and ran his hands all over me, touching me everywhere. He pinched my nipples hard. I whimpered, but he didn't stop until I bit my lip and became silent. He murmured, "Very nice," and then he moved in front of me and put his cock in my mouth. He didn't let me suck it as I wanted to. Instead, he grabbed my hair and just started pushing my head onto him, making me take him deep into my throat, and then pulling my head back, all the way off his cock - completely in and out on each stroke, lingering with the head in my throat for just a second before pulling back.
Just as I felt his cock start throbbing, hardening, close to coming, he stopped and pulled it out of my mouth. He slapped my face (not hard, but not gently either), and said, "Turn around." I gasped, shocked at the blow, but not offended by it at all. I moved quickly, turning around and lifting my bottom to him.
He grabbed my hips and slid his cock slowly inside me. I pressed back against him, arched my back, and closed my eyes, trying to focus on every sensation - the sweetness of the cool breeze off the river, the rustling sound of the wind in the trees, the hardness of the ground under my knees, the softness of the blanket, the fullness of my cunt, the pressure of his hands on my hips pulling me back onto him, the soft grunting noise he made with each stroke. Soon, I became distracted from all of the external things as I became more and more excited. With each stroke he hit just the right spot, and I started to moan and buck against him harder and harder.
Suddenly, he reached forward, wrapped his arms around me and knelt back on his heels, pulling me back with him so I was fully impaled on his cock. He whispered in my ear, "Show me how naughty you are, Kat," and then he started biting my neck. I bounced up and down on him, rocking my hips forward and back. I came quickly....he pinched my nipples as I came, making me squeal and writhe in his arms. Then he pushed me forward unto my hands and knees again, grabbed my hips, and fucked me very hard, lifting my knees off the ground with each thrust. I tried to steady myself, but there was nothing to hold on to, so I fell forward onto my chest. His guttural moan as he came was primal, animal-like, unlike any I had heard.
He held me on him, my knees off the ground, for what seemed like a long time. When he released me, he gently lowered me onto the blanket - the gentleness seemed strangely inconsistent with the rest of what had just happened. After a few moments of laying on the blanket in silence, he got up and tossed me my pants and top. "Get dressed," he said, "but you won't need these." He was still holding my bra and panties. I scrambled to get dressed as he slid into his jeans. My knees were weak, but he seemed totally unaffected.
I searched for the car keys. He folded the blanket and then wrapped an arm around me and kissed me deeply again. "Sweet, sweet Kat," he said, back to the charming tone and accent I recognized. I reached down to pick up my bra and panties that he had tossed on the ground, but he snapped, "No. I said you won't be needing those." Confused, I stepped away from them and headed toward the car door. He continued, "I don't want to see you in bra and panties again. Do you understand?" I nodded to indicate that I did.
We drove back to the park. He made more small talk. I could feel his juices leaking out of me, moistening my pants.
When we got back to the park, I pulled up behind his truck on the street. He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, and got out of the car. Before he closed the car door, he leaned over, smiled, and said, "Talk to ya next Saturday, Hon."
I was wearing navy blue sweatpants and a light blue tank top. My hair was pulled up in the back with a claw clip, which I grabbed and pulled out, fluffing my hair, trying to look less like a dowdy middle-aged wife and mom, but knowing that a little hair fluff couldn't do that trick. I decided not to look in the rear view mirror or my nervousness would become panic and I probably wouldn't go through with it.
I arrived at the park and found a parking space. I scanned the parking lot, looking for anyone in a car or standing near a car. Nothing. I turned off the car and waited for a moment. Then I took a deep breath and got out of the car. I looked around. There were some kids playing, some families. There's no way I could have arrived before him, is there? I decided to just lean against the car and wait. I watched cars come and go. After about 10 minutes, I started wondering if I should just go.
I heard a truck door slam shut across the street behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a man looking right at me and walking straight toward me. He was between 5'10" and 6' tall, and he walked with a very confident gait. He was wearing jeans, a green t-shirt, tennis shoes; nothing special, but I could see that he was muscular - broad shoulders, strong arms, a little bit of a tummy (good, I thought, at least he's not perfect). His full beard was carefully manicured and, as he got closer, I could see the tiny bits of grey poking through it. Otherwise, it matched his auburn hair perfectly. I guessed he must have been in his mid-40's. How funny, I though to myself, that I never asked his age.
And that smile. And his green eyes. Wow. Yes, I think they actually twinkled. Then he spoke, and I would have recognized that voice anywhere. "You must be sweet Kat," he said. He hugged me - a decent, respectful hug, entirely suitable for public, except for the fact that it lingered a few seconds too long. As we hugged, I said, "I sure hope you're Joe." He laughed and whispered in my ear, "My name is Adam, but you can call me Joe as long as you want." He kissed my cheek before he pulled away, and he kept his hand on my waist while he continued to talk, standing just a little closer that he should have given the fact that we were at a park in broad daylight just two miles from my house.
"Let's get out of here," he suggested. "We can head down to the river and find a nice place to talk for a bit."
I told him that I was supposed to be running quickly to the grocery store, and that I should get home soon. He said I could call home with another excuse while he was getting something out of his truck. I can't even remember the excuse I gave my husband, but it was good enough to keep me out of the house for another couple of hours. I couldn't keep my eyes off of Joe...uh.. Adam as he walked.
He grabbed a blanket from the cab of his truck and came back across the street. He suggested we take my car because he knew I'd probably feel more comfortable that way. He was right, so we got in the car and he directed me where to drive. As I was driving, he rested his hand gently on my thigh.
It didn't take long for us to get to a secluded turnoff right off the river road. I made a mental note of the fact that you wouldn't be able to find this place unless you knew about it, so he must have been here before. As if he knew what I was thinking, he said, "I bring my boys here to fish. They like to think of it as our secret hideaway," and he flashed one of those million dollar smiles. I was pretty sure he had been here with someone other than his kids and that he did more than fish here, but I didn't care.
I pulled up close to the river, behind a row of trees. He got out of the car and spread out the blanket in front of the car, so we wouldn't be seen from the road, which would have been pretty difficult anyway due to all the trees and shrubbery. Then he took my hand and we sat down on the blanket. We kicked off our shoes and started talking. Surprisingly, it wasn't awkward at all. We had done so much talking over the last 8 weeks that it felt completely natural to just chit chat about nothing for a few minutes. He asked me a question about a some home improvement project I had been working on for several weeks, and while I was answering, he leaned over and kissed me.
It was one of those deep, wet kisses that starts off gently but quickly becomes forceful and urgent - my favorite kind, to tell the truth. How could he know that? In no time at all, he had my tank top and bra off, and one hand was exploring my breasts while the other was in my panties. He slid a finger inside me before I could protest, although at that point I knew I wouldn't have tried to stop him. He pushed his finger deep inside, then another, and another. I moaned.
"My, you're a very wet naughty Kat, aren't you?' he said. That charming southern drawl I was so used to had taken on an authoritative tone. I nodded my head and said, "Yes." He wasn't smiling anymore; instead, he was staring intently into my eyes. My breathing was shallow. I started rocking ever so slightly against his hand. Then he pulled his hand out of me and stood up, and snapped, "Take off your pants and panties and get on your hands and knees." It didn't occur to me not to do exactly what he said. I shimmied out of my pants and watched him pull of his t-shirt and jeans. His cock was nice and hard, about 7 inches, very thick, and curved just a little bit toward his belly. I smiled and rolled quickly onto my hands and knees.
I expected him to get behind me and fuck me, but he didn't. He knelt next to me and ran his hands all over me, touching me everywhere. He pinched my nipples hard. I whimpered, but he didn't stop until I bit my lip and became silent. He murmured, "Very nice," and then he moved in front of me and put his cock in my mouth. He didn't let me suck it as I wanted to. Instead, he grabbed my hair and just started pushing my head onto him, making me take him deep into my throat, and then pulling my head back, all the way off his cock - completely in and out on each stroke, lingering with the head in my throat for just a second before pulling back.
Just as I felt his cock start throbbing, hardening, close to coming, he stopped and pulled it out of my mouth. He slapped my face (not hard, but not gently either), and said, "Turn around." I gasped, shocked at the blow, but not offended by it at all. I moved quickly, turning around and lifting my bottom to him.
He grabbed my hips and slid his cock slowly inside me. I pressed back against him, arched my back, and closed my eyes, trying to focus on every sensation - the sweetness of the cool breeze off the river, the rustling sound of the wind in the trees, the hardness of the ground under my knees, the softness of the blanket, the fullness of my cunt, the pressure of his hands on my hips pulling me back onto him, the soft grunting noise he made with each stroke. Soon, I became distracted from all of the external things as I became more and more excited. With each stroke he hit just the right spot, and I started to moan and buck against him harder and harder.
Suddenly, he reached forward, wrapped his arms around me and knelt back on his heels, pulling me back with him so I was fully impaled on his cock. He whispered in my ear, "Show me how naughty you are, Kat," and then he started biting my neck. I bounced up and down on him, rocking my hips forward and back. I came quickly....he pinched my nipples as I came, making me squeal and writhe in his arms. Then he pushed me forward unto my hands and knees again, grabbed my hips, and fucked me very hard, lifting my knees off the ground with each thrust. I tried to steady myself, but there was nothing to hold on to, so I fell forward onto my chest. His guttural moan as he came was primal, animal-like, unlike any I had heard.
He held me on him, my knees off the ground, for what seemed like a long time. When he released me, he gently lowered me onto the blanket - the gentleness seemed strangely inconsistent with the rest of what had just happened. After a few moments of laying on the blanket in silence, he got up and tossed me my pants and top. "Get dressed," he said, "but you won't need these." He was still holding my bra and panties. I scrambled to get dressed as he slid into his jeans. My knees were weak, but he seemed totally unaffected.
I searched for the car keys. He folded the blanket and then wrapped an arm around me and kissed me deeply again. "Sweet, sweet Kat," he said, back to the charming tone and accent I recognized. I reached down to pick up my bra and panties that he had tossed on the ground, but he snapped, "No. I said you won't be needing those." Confused, I stepped away from them and headed toward the car door. He continued, "I don't want to see you in bra and panties again. Do you understand?" I nodded to indicate that I did.
We drove back to the park. He made more small talk. I could feel his juices leaking out of me, moistening my pants.
When we got back to the park, I pulled up behind his truck on the street. He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, and got out of the car. Before he closed the car door, he leaned over, smiled, and said, "Talk to ya next Saturday, Hon."
Monday, February 7, 2011
Wrong Number, Right Man (Part 1) - A Naughty Adventure
I had just turned 38 and had started prowling again recently. I hadn't planned on prowling. In fact, it had been several years since my last time, but something had changed with me physically. Without explanation, some hormonal switch had been flipped and I was craving sex all the time. Yes, all the time. That's not an exaggeration. O.k., maybe not while I was sleeping, but you know what I mean. On top of that, my husband was being a real jerk, and he had been for the last six months, so it was pretty easy to jump on AOL and find a friend or two to take my mind of the asshole I was living with and satisfy the new urges I was experiencing.
One Saturday afternoon, I was home alone (hubby and the kids were out at a regular Saturday afternoon activity) and the phone rang. I answered, and heard the sexiest voice I had heard in a long, long time say, very slowly with a deep southern drawl, "Well, hello, ma'am. Is Joe available?" Normally, I would reply "Sorry, there's no Joe here" and get back to my chores, but this time I couldn't resist saying, "I really wish he were available, but he's not. In fact, no one named Joe lives here. I knew someone named Joe once, though. Is that good enough?"
The part of me that hadn't yet melted at his hello was left smiling and moistening from his reply, "Well, that depends, ma'am. Do you think you can help me? You certainly sound like you can." This might be a good place to mention that I've been told I have quite a sexy and seductive voice. Mr. Wrong Number clearly agreed.
"How can I help you, Sir?" I asked.
"Oh, I can think of a dozen ways, ma'am, but can you tell me what number I dialed? I certainly want to make sure I dial this number again." FYI - For you young folks, caller ID was not as ubiquitous 8 years ago as it is now. You actually had to ask for someone's phone number. I know, crazy, huh?
After going back and forth a few times, it became clear that he was only off by one number. Now he had my home phone number, and I started to get nervous, so I tried to end the conversation. "I need to run. I'm sorry this isn't the number you were looking for. Good luck finding Joe," I said.
"Oh," he replied. "I think this is exactly the number I was looking for....uh....may I ask your name, ma'am?"
Against my better judgement (heck, everything I do in my prowling seems to be against my better judgement), I told him the truth - my real name. "My name is Kat. What's your name?"
"You can call me.....Joe," he replied. I laughed. And then he asked, "Is there a Mr. Kat?" That's always a moment of truth. I could lie and keep the little flirtation going, or shut it down quickly with my standard, honest response. Because I believe that honesty is always the best policy (except with my husband, of course, silly), I said, "Yes, there is, indeed, a Mr. Kat. Is there a Mrs. Joe?"
"Why yes there is," he said. Ok, where does this conversation go from here? He moved right ahead with, "Would you mind if I called this very right number again sometime, Kat?"
"Sure, Joe. Anytime," I purred in my sexiest voice, just for effect. Fat chance. The odds that this guy would ever call back were slim to none, especially since we just established that we were both married. Seriously, this wasn't AOL or some phone chat line. This was a stranger encounter. Those rarely turn into anything. We said our goodbyes, and that was that. Well, not exactly. I did have a very nice orgasm later remembering his sexy voice and imagining the man behind it, but I expected that would be it.
Then, the following Saturday afternoon at about the same time, he called again. I answered the phone, and he said, "I've missed ya, Kat" in that unbelievable voice. We had a lovely 30 minute chat about life, work, and family - all without giving any real identifiable information. Then it was over.
Joe called again every Saturday at the same time for the next 8 weeks, each conversation becoming a bit more intimate until we finally had our first session of phone sex. I'll write about it separately because it absolutely deserves its own post, but I can tell you now that the good Lord gave that man that incredibly sexy voice for a reason, and I had just learned what that reason was. Oh my, my, my...... After I had come twice, he said, "Well, sweet Kat, it has been 30 minutes and I have to go, but I can't wait to hear you come again." WTF?! I thought, what is this, a timed therapy session? Oh well, it was nice. Now that I knew we had a 30 minute limit, I'd have to work a little faster to get the most out of this guy.
The next Saturday, hubby and the kids didn't go out like they always did. As the time approached for my regular call with Joe, I got more and more nervous. Now I was kicking myself for not getting his phone number so I could slip into another room and warn him not to call. I tried several ruses to get hubby out of the house. I failed at all of them. Then, at precisely the appointed time, the phone rang....and hubby answered. My heart stopped.
My husband said, "Hello?". Then a pause. Then he said, "Sure, she's right here," and he handed me the phone. "It's some guy named Joe," he said, and then he went right back to watching TV. I took the phone and tried to sound like I didn't know who it was, "Hello?"
"Well, well, Kat," he said slowly. "I guess you can't chat this afternoon."
"No, I'm sorry, " I said. "I won't be able to help you with that this time."
Then he said, "Meet me at the park on Washington and 5th in 10 minutes," and then he hung up.
I was stunned. I fumbled to end the conversation that had already ended, "Sure. Maybe next year. Good luck. Goodbye." My husband looked at me quizzically. I rolled my eyes and said, "Little League needs a fundraising chair again." He said, "Heck, you don't have time for that, Kat. I'm glad you said no."
I stepped into the kitchen to collect myself. Should I go? I don't even know this guy. Sure he has a great voice, but he could be an axe murder or a rapist...... However, it's a public place. What could go wrong?
Without another thought, I grabbed my purse and my keys, took the curry powder from the shelf and shoved it in my purse, and headed to the front door. I looked over my shoulder as I was leaving to tell my husband, "I need some curry powder for dinner. I'll be back in a few minutes."
I got in the car and drove.
Who would I find at the park on Washington and 5th? We had never talked about appearance. Would I recognize him? Would he recognize me? Was I crazy to be doing this? Oh, that question was easy to answer. This was insane, but I kept driving anyway.
To be continued......
One Saturday afternoon, I was home alone (hubby and the kids were out at a regular Saturday afternoon activity) and the phone rang. I answered, and heard the sexiest voice I had heard in a long, long time say, very slowly with a deep southern drawl, "Well, hello, ma'am. Is Joe available?" Normally, I would reply "Sorry, there's no Joe here" and get back to my chores, but this time I couldn't resist saying, "I really wish he were available, but he's not. In fact, no one named Joe lives here. I knew someone named Joe once, though. Is that good enough?"
The part of me that hadn't yet melted at his hello was left smiling and moistening from his reply, "Well, that depends, ma'am. Do you think you can help me? You certainly sound like you can." This might be a good place to mention that I've been told I have quite a sexy and seductive voice. Mr. Wrong Number clearly agreed.
"How can I help you, Sir?" I asked.
"Oh, I can think of a dozen ways, ma'am, but can you tell me what number I dialed? I certainly want to make sure I dial this number again." FYI - For you young folks, caller ID was not as ubiquitous 8 years ago as it is now. You actually had to ask for someone's phone number. I know, crazy, huh?
After going back and forth a few times, it became clear that he was only off by one number. Now he had my home phone number, and I started to get nervous, so I tried to end the conversation. "I need to run. I'm sorry this isn't the number you were looking for. Good luck finding Joe," I said.
"Oh," he replied. "I think this is exactly the number I was looking for....uh....may I ask your name, ma'am?"
Against my better judgement (heck, everything I do in my prowling seems to be against my better judgement), I told him the truth - my real name. "My name is Kat. What's your name?"
"You can call me.....Joe," he replied. I laughed. And then he asked, "Is there a Mr. Kat?" That's always a moment of truth. I could lie and keep the little flirtation going, or shut it down quickly with my standard, honest response. Because I believe that honesty is always the best policy (except with my husband, of course, silly), I said, "Yes, there is, indeed, a Mr. Kat. Is there a Mrs. Joe?"
"Why yes there is," he said. Ok, where does this conversation go from here? He moved right ahead with, "Would you mind if I called this very right number again sometime, Kat?"
"Sure, Joe. Anytime," I purred in my sexiest voice, just for effect. Fat chance. The odds that this guy would ever call back were slim to none, especially since we just established that we were both married. Seriously, this wasn't AOL or some phone chat line. This was a stranger encounter. Those rarely turn into anything. We said our goodbyes, and that was that. Well, not exactly. I did have a very nice orgasm later remembering his sexy voice and imagining the man behind it, but I expected that would be it.
Then, the following Saturday afternoon at about the same time, he called again. I answered the phone, and he said, "I've missed ya, Kat" in that unbelievable voice. We had a lovely 30 minute chat about life, work, and family - all without giving any real identifiable information. Then it was over.
Joe called again every Saturday at the same time for the next 8 weeks, each conversation becoming a bit more intimate until we finally had our first session of phone sex. I'll write about it separately because it absolutely deserves its own post, but I can tell you now that the good Lord gave that man that incredibly sexy voice for a reason, and I had just learned what that reason was. Oh my, my, my...... After I had come twice, he said, "Well, sweet Kat, it has been 30 minutes and I have to go, but I can't wait to hear you come again." WTF?! I thought, what is this, a timed therapy session? Oh well, it was nice. Now that I knew we had a 30 minute limit, I'd have to work a little faster to get the most out of this guy.
The next Saturday, hubby and the kids didn't go out like they always did. As the time approached for my regular call with Joe, I got more and more nervous. Now I was kicking myself for not getting his phone number so I could slip into another room and warn him not to call. I tried several ruses to get hubby out of the house. I failed at all of them. Then, at precisely the appointed time, the phone rang....and hubby answered. My heart stopped.
My husband said, "Hello?". Then a pause. Then he said, "Sure, she's right here," and he handed me the phone. "It's some guy named Joe," he said, and then he went right back to watching TV. I took the phone and tried to sound like I didn't know who it was, "Hello?"
"Well, well, Kat," he said slowly. "I guess you can't chat this afternoon."
"No, I'm sorry, " I said. "I won't be able to help you with that this time."
Then he said, "Meet me at the park on Washington and 5th in 10 minutes," and then he hung up.
I was stunned. I fumbled to end the conversation that had already ended, "Sure. Maybe next year. Good luck. Goodbye." My husband looked at me quizzically. I rolled my eyes and said, "Little League needs a fundraising chair again." He said, "Heck, you don't have time for that, Kat. I'm glad you said no."
I stepped into the kitchen to collect myself. Should I go? I don't even know this guy. Sure he has a great voice, but he could be an axe murder or a rapist...... However, it's a public place. What could go wrong?
Without another thought, I grabbed my purse and my keys, took the curry powder from the shelf and shoved it in my purse, and headed to the front door. I looked over my shoulder as I was leaving to tell my husband, "I need some curry powder for dinner. I'll be back in a few minutes."
I got in the car and drove.
Who would I find at the park on Washington and 5th? We had never talked about appearance. Would I recognize him? Would he recognize me? Was I crazy to be doing this? Oh, that question was easy to answer. This was insane, but I kept driving anyway.
To be continued......
Finding the Time to Cheat - Another Guest Post from Chimpernel!
Today’s column is all about time. You only have a finite amount of the stuff and you’ve already got a lot of demands upon it. There’s your job, I presume you have a job; if not, get your arse off the couch and go find one you lazy bastard. Anyway, the job + commute is going to eat a big chunk of your week. Secondly there is sleep, that’s another third gone. Quality time with friends and family consume a big chunk, then there are a whole bunch of minor causes, from shopping, therapy and sports to chores, hobbies and DIY. You probably already have quite a full week/month/year. My point is that if you are looking for a relationship outside your marriage, where exactly are you going to find the time? Trust me, any half decent affair will start to eat into your available time budget.
But remember it’s all about time - time to spend with your lover and enjoy yourself. Let’s look at it this way, sex consumes time. Any half decent fuck is two hours burned right there, and that’s without factoring in getting to the place, social niceties, dinner, drinks and the usual reaffirming human qualities which make it so much more fun than a quick fuck in the alley behind a club. Kinky sex takes even longer with any half decent scene needing at least four hours. So what gives? This isn’t a lunchtime thing here, well unless you are fucking the payroll, in which case, stop, it’s going to call for nights away and that calls for planning. Nights away are complex things, involving two people’s schedules.
My own personal position is helped by two things, one, my marriage is over in all but name so whilst there is no formal understanding there, it’s not like we talk, about anything. Additionally, I work as a management consultant so time away from home causes little comment. I’ve not yet ended my marriage for various complex reasons, not for any emotional, financial or practical consideration but I presume that you aren’t there and probably don’t want your primary relationship to end.
So how do you plan for this?
You need consistency, you need simplicity, and you need to be able to keep a straight face when asked where you are. None of this is easy, but if you can’t do it, then don’t even start down this path. Also you need plausibility. It’s highly unlikely that you can get away with claiming you are at a conference in Paris when you work as a brickie in Hull or a call centre worker in Aberdeen. So you must balance between reality and opportunity, if you are going to spend time with that teenage German nymphet you think you've pulled from Fetlife or the Zulu prince that you met on Facebook*. Either operate in a predictable way, new job means I have to spend every 2nd Wednesday out of town etc, or in a plausible but unpredictable way, “sorry, there’s a rush maintenance job on the XYZ123 widget installed in Essen, I’ll be gone a couple of days” etc, but never combine the two or you’ll get so confused with your own lying that you are bound to slip up.
Happy hunting people and try to keep it simple.
*Incidentally, proposing the first face to face meeting is the real test if someone is serious or not. If they keep pushing it off or act somewhat vague about it, they are either just playing with the idea or are actually a fat ex trucker called Neville from stoke rather than Helga the water-sports fixated big breasted nymphomaniac from Berlin that you think you are talking with.
--------------------------------
Remember, you can read more from Chimprenel by following his blog, The Scarlet Chimpernel, or you can follow him on Twitter.
Also, remember, you can subscribe to Prowling with Kat by either entering your email on the sidebar to the right to have new posts emailed to you or by subscribing to receive new posts through a Reader.
But remember it’s all about time - time to spend with your lover and enjoy yourself. Let’s look at it this way, sex consumes time. Any half decent fuck is two hours burned right there, and that’s without factoring in getting to the place, social niceties, dinner, drinks and the usual reaffirming human qualities which make it so much more fun than a quick fuck in the alley behind a club. Kinky sex takes even longer with any half decent scene needing at least four hours. So what gives? This isn’t a lunchtime thing here, well unless you are fucking the payroll, in which case, stop, it’s going to call for nights away and that calls for planning. Nights away are complex things, involving two people’s schedules.
My own personal position is helped by two things, one, my marriage is over in all but name so whilst there is no formal understanding there, it’s not like we talk, about anything. Additionally, I work as a management consultant so time away from home causes little comment. I’ve not yet ended my marriage for various complex reasons, not for any emotional, financial or practical consideration but I presume that you aren’t there and probably don’t want your primary relationship to end.
So how do you plan for this?
You need consistency, you need simplicity, and you need to be able to keep a straight face when asked where you are. None of this is easy, but if you can’t do it, then don’t even start down this path. Also you need plausibility. It’s highly unlikely that you can get away with claiming you are at a conference in Paris when you work as a brickie in Hull or a call centre worker in Aberdeen. So you must balance between reality and opportunity, if you are going to spend time with that teenage German nymphet you think you've pulled from Fetlife or the Zulu prince that you met on Facebook*. Either operate in a predictable way, new job means I have to spend every 2nd Wednesday out of town etc, or in a plausible but unpredictable way, “sorry, there’s a rush maintenance job on the XYZ123 widget installed in Essen, I’ll be gone a couple of days” etc, but never combine the two or you’ll get so confused with your own lying that you are bound to slip up.
Happy hunting people and try to keep it simple.
*Incidentally, proposing the first face to face meeting is the real test if someone is serious or not. If they keep pushing it off or act somewhat vague about it, they are either just playing with the idea or are actually a fat ex trucker called Neville from stoke rather than Helga the water-sports fixated big breasted nymphomaniac from Berlin that you think you are talking with.
--------------------------------
Remember, you can read more from Chimprenel by following his blog, The Scarlet Chimpernel, or you can follow him on Twitter.
Also, remember, you can subscribe to Prowling with Kat by either entering your email on the sidebar to the right to have new posts emailed to you or by subscribing to receive new posts through a Reader.
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Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Just the Sex, Please
I have heard from some of the hornier of my prowling friends that they want an easy way to find the sex posts. Apparently, the advice and other stuff is just too tame for some of you horn dogs. So, I'll get those posts listed separately on the side bar soon. Until then, here's a short list of our naughtier posts for your leisure enjoyment.
My First Affair - Our First Meeting
The Best Sex of My Life
Teaching a Young One
Afternoon Fun in a Honda Civic
TSA Foreplay at the Airport
J's Version of His First Time with Kat
Delicious Irony - A Naughty Fisting Story
Soon, I'll post links to some of my favorite naughty stories on some of my other favorite sex blogs.
Never fear, horny Prowlers, I'll make sure you get enough to keep your imagination hot and juicy!
My First Affair - Our First Meeting
The Best Sex of My Life
Teaching a Young One
Afternoon Fun in a Honda Civic
TSA Foreplay at the Airport
J's Version of His First Time with Kat
Delicious Irony - A Naughty Fisting Story
Soon, I'll post links to some of my favorite naughty stories on some of my other favorite sex blogs.
Never fear, horny Prowlers, I'll make sure you get enough to keep your imagination hot and juicy!
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