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Wendy called Saturday morning. "Hi Craig!!! What would you say if I asked you out tonight? I want to dress up and go OUT. MY treat. We can have dinner, go for drinks and dancing, and then fuck like rabbits when we get home." Her bluntness shocked me a little.
"Wendy...", I paused. "This is a big adjustment for me. After two years of wanting you, and bluntly having been told that I didn't turn you on... Well, it's a major change to hear you talk about fucking my brains out. I mean, I'm tempted to ask if you have the right number."
"Sorry. Is that a no to my offer?", she asked innocently.
"Where should I be and what time? Did you really think I could turn you down?"
"My place. Six or six-thirty. Dress REAL nice."
"Your wish is my command, milady red." There was a brief pause, then Wendy's "sexy" voice spoke.
"See you then, baby." The clock immediately stopped moving. After an eternity of waiting, it was time to get ready. I arrived at Wendy's house a little before six.
She answered the door still wearing a bathrobe, and her hair was wet. "You're early. I want to primp a little more than usual for tonight. I'll be ready in a bit. Make yourself comfortable, you know where the bar is." Wendy turned to go upstairs, then stopped. "Oh and Craig -" She grabbed my head and rammed her tongue down my throat. I saw stars. She headed upstairs.
I fixed myself a drink, and the CD player came on. Apparently Wendy had a very long distance remote control. I sat and replayed the unlikely events of the week. I kept trying to add two and two together, and the total was always seventeen. She had obviously had a serious fight with Don. But why was she seeking comfort in my bed? She occasionally came to me for emotional support, but never for sex. And now that we were fucking our brains out, how long would it last?
"Craig? Could you come here for a moment?" My racing mind stopped as it heard the siren's call from upstairs. The CD player suddenly changed. Duke Ellington? "Satin Doll?" When did Wendy get interested in jazz??? I walked out of the den and had a heart attack. Wendy posed at the top of the stairs. She was wearing a black dress that fit her perfectly, revealing all of her gentle curves. One arm strap was off-the-shoulder, sensually revealing extra neckline, and a bit more bare skin. She took a long, slow drag from the cigarette in her holder. Nancy Wilson sang, "Cigarette holder which swings me over his shoulder..." on the stereo.
"You like?", she softly asked. I couldn't say anything that was even close to expressing what I felt at that moment. She walked down the steps slowly, with an air of feminine grace. She wore high heels, and they added another few inches to her impressive stature. She arrived at the bottom of the steps, stood a few feet away, and curiously regarded me.
"Well? You haven't said a word since I came out of the bedroom." I shook my head and looked at her new hairdo, a short curly style that framed her face perfectly. She had just enough skin exposed to inspire fantasy, without being completely obvious. Wendy had made herself absolutely stunning.
"I... I... Words fail to describe how good, no, WONDERFUL, you look." My voice squeaked, and I started to sweat. Wendy walked over to me, leaned, and gave me a kiss on the forehead. Then she wiggled her way into the den.
"Baby, would you fix me a cocktail before we go out? You know what I like." She sat on the sofa.
The bottle shook in my hands as I watched her cross her legs. It was breath-taking. She gave me a come-hither look, and her blue eyes were laughing and dancing. I was having problems opening the bottle. My throat was dry, I felt dizzy, and my knees wobbled. I figured out what was wrong with me, and forced myself to stop looking at Wendy. I managed to finish making the drink, and brought it over to her. She smiled and took a sip.
"Perfect, darling. Thank you."
I leaned to kiss her. She put her drink down while our tongues explored. Wendy pulled another cigarette from a gold case, and fit it in the holder. She held it aloft, waiting for me to light it. I gently pushed her arm down and kissed her again. It was short, and very wet. We kissed again, longer, wetter. Her empty hand reached around the back of my head. I reluctantly broke away. Wendy's kissing had given me a ferocious erection.
"Mmmmm. That's better than the drink.", Wendy spoke and closed her eyes to indicate that she wasn't finished kissing yet. We kissed again. I heard her drop the cigarette holder on the table, and felt both of her hands in my hair. I came up for air.
"I like your perfume.", I said as I stared at her exposed shoulder. Then I looked at her face. "That's a nice blush you picked to put on. It accents your face very well."
"Craig?" Very softly.
"Yes, Wendy?"
"I forgot to put on any rouge."
I looked into her half-closed eyes. "Call out for pizza?", I whispered.
"Later --- maybe", she panted and we undressed each other in a fraction of the time to took us to dress. The drink got spilled when we turned the coffee table over while shoving it out of the way. She pulled me on top of her as she slid to the carpet. I buried my head at her breast, and my cock in her cunt. The steaming, clinging warmth only drove me more crazy with lust. I pounded at her with short, hard, frenzied strokes, sucking her tit.
"Uhhh - ufff - mmmf - hhnfff", she panted, the ferocity of my lust taking her by surprise. She finally lifted her legs to wrap them around my waist, then pushed my head away from her tit. She looked at me intensely, blue eyes boring into my soul. "Mmmm! - - Ohhh!You - like - your - femme - ohh! - fat - mmmm! - fatale - Uhhh! - Dont'cha?" I could only grunt with each thrust.
Wendy kissed me, and I tried to push my tongue through the back of her head. She broke the kiss, gasping. "Oooooh... yesss... ohhh... ohhh ... comeinmymouth! Ohhhh! - takeit - out... Comeinmymouth!" I pulled out of her as she had driven me well over the edge. The first stream landed on her chin, but she sat up quickly and wrapped her lips around my cock.
Guttural moans came from my throat as she sucked me. Wendy pushed me over on my back and straddled me, rubbing her pussy on my deflating, but still coming, cock. She leaned forward, and I knew what she was about to do. I didn't care. I sat up, grabbed her head and passionately kissed her. I felt her stomach tighten, and she started grinding her pussy against my thigh forcefully. Little whimpers that started in her throat vibrated against my tongue, muffled by the kiss.
I pulled away from her slowly, and her eyes stayed closed, opening only when it was apparent that we weren't going to kiss again. I collapsed backward on the floor. She collapsed on top of me. We were both out-of- breath, and had to wait to speak.
"You like me as a femme fatale.", Wendy stated teasingly. She tickled my chest hair.
"Sorry if I was a little - violent. But you were driving me crazy."
"Lover, I wanted to drive you crazy. I wanted to seduce you. I didn't know that I could seduce myself. I got so hot upstairs after you got here, I had to change my panties."
"You won't have to change them again tonight."
My cock had started to get hard again as I thought about making her come some more, and fucking her, and the feel of her wonderful soft body against mine. I had to slow down. I gently pushed her off me, and rolled over on my side. Wendy sat up and reached for the holder and its unlit tenant. She lit it, smiling as she exhaled. "I'll be ready in a few."
"We have all night."
"And all day Sunday, and Monday night, and Tuesday night..." I scratched my chin, and blinked.
"Wendy, what are you trying to tell me? I heard what I wanted to hear, but I'm not sure you said it."
"Craig, I'm in love with you. Have been for about a year now. But I didn't think you could turn me on. I never lusted after you. See, I had this picture of my dream guy, and you're about as far away from it as I can get."
"So what changed your mind?"
"My dissatisfaction with Don, and our discussion about my femininity. I had no idea I could turn you on so much. Being that big a turn-on was such a rush."
"And your fantasy of being a femme fatale..."
"Met reality. I'll be YOUR femme fatale, because it satisfies both of us." Wendy stood up and finished smoking. I admired her long legs, and felt a chill run up my spine. I looked at her face, the eyes half-lidded with the look that I would come to recognize as her "freshly fucked" expression. This was going to be one of many long nights.
Wendy started to walk out of the room. "By the way, Craig, I bought a couple of new cigarette holders today. Can you fix fix them like you did this one?"
"I believe I can manage that."
"Good. They're upstairs in the bedroom. Wanna see 'em?" She turned and headed for the stairway. I stood up, stretched, and followed my femme fatale as "Satin Doll" repeated itself on the stereo.