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I DID want to be a housewife, with kids. But I wanted a loving husband, passionate, skilled, who could help me reach the sexual heights I desired.In the end, I wanted taken care of. I know, terribly old fashioned and out of date. I wanted a man who would look out for me, make the hard decisions, surround me with love. Like I was ever gonna find someone like that.I determined to drown my sorrows. My friends knew I had been dumped and were supportive, but I saw the looks they gave each other when they thought I wasn't looking. Loser. It may as well been tattooed on my forehead.The jukebox started up, and my friends got asked to dance. No one asked me, I guess one look at my face told them I wasn't in a dancing mood.I had switched to whiskey, not a good thing. I was getting maudlin, also not a good thing. I was thinking abut calling a cab, going home to my tiny apartment and cry into my pillow, knowing I was going to be alone the rest of my life, I could tell. Maybe I should get a cat.. Her hand gripped my cock tightly. She stared at our voyuer intently. She could see no more of him than his groin. His balls looked full and swollen as they pushed their way out of his trousers.He could clearly see in the car, but it as so dark that he could probably only guess at what was happening. Until a thin beam on light played over her thighs tracking slowly upward, her treasure obscured by my hand.His excitement was obvious, as I could see his cock tremble and a bead of pre-cum formed at his tip.Inside the car her breathing was heavy and labour ed, not just from my efforts I suspected. Her eyes were still glued to the cock, mesmerised and dreamlike she asked;“what do we do....?”I didn’t answer, trembling myself, I reached up and switched the interior light back on as my own heart pounded.She blinked in the light, bright in comparison to the darknes that had so recently enveloped us. I took my hand from between her thighs and started to unzip her jacket. She didn’t.
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My uncle had indicated the location of the guest room and I retired to sleep heavily.The next day it was mid-morning before I arose. After a shower I followed the scent of frying bacon to the kitchen. I found a large jovial black female cook there who had anticipated my need for breakfast. She told me that my uncle had left early in the morning. Also, she would be in twice a day "to fix-up" breakfast and dinner. She showed me the phone to call in special orders from the kitchen downstairs and the location of the dumbwaiter. I told her my favorite foods and she promised an evening meal "just like home."Afterward, carrying a mug of coffee, I toured the spacious penthouse in daylight. Eventually I heard voices and opened a door to find a small gymnasium. Lisa was dutifully involved in an athletic training class. The instructress, a striking blonde, was directing her through a strenuous routine of bending stretches. Lisa's coach barked several guttural commands at her charge, and then.

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