Become the Woman
The doorbell rang in the middle of my Saturday afternoon, disturbing me from my sleep, but I knew the maid would get it and merely closed my eyes again. It had been a tough week at the office with the Stock Market having some very drastic swings lately. I was very stressed and tired and was using this opportunity to just relax.
I was dreaming of the beach, the warm sun beating down on me laying there as the sea breeze swept onto the land. I couldn't wait for my vacation to begin where I'd be doing just that.
I heard a faint scuffling at the door moments before it spilled into the sitting room where I lay.
"Ma'am, you'll have to wait," my Indian maid, Yasmina, said, standing in front of the woman with her hands on her shoulders, trying to hold her back. But the woman was very persistent and was obviously going to enter unless seriously restrained. The idea of such restraint excited me as I looked at her.
She was young, maybe in her mid-twenties, a beautiful brunette with a nicely shaped body. It was obvious she was active since her body was trim.
"Hey!" she said, abruptly, angrily, interrupting my thoughts. "I wanna talk to you!"
Yasmina looked over at me, still trying to keep this new guest in check. "Sorry, Sir. But she was very insistent."
I smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. "It's ok, Yasmina. I can take it from here."
Yasmina flashed an angry smile at me, almost thanking me for understanding her predicament and then scowled at the intruder as she removed her hands. She brushed down her uniform, turned, curtly bowed, then walked out of the room. My new guest stood just inside the doorway to the study, suddenly looking unsure of herself. She tried to build her resolve and looked at me again with renewed strength of purpose.
"I want you to leave Brooke alone," she said. "Get out of her life."
I sat and thought for a moment, wondering why this young woman would care that I had been seeing Brooke for the past two months. "And you are...?"
"My name is Kylie and Brooke is going to marry my brother. They don't need you in their lives ruining their relationship." She walked forward, angry.
I stood, my robe slightly opening around me. I was only wearing boxers beneath it and could feel my cock beginning to twitch at the sight of this luscious young thing. I could tell she was intrigued by my body, but didn't want to admit it. It was the subtle shift in her stance, the near imperceptible glance. Being a student of human behavior, I saw all the signs.
"They've been dating for five years. They belong together," she proclaimed forcefully, standing defiant in front of me.
"What is going on between Brooke and I is really none of your business." I kept my voice low to keep this encounter from escalating too high. "She is an incredible woman and is able to think on her own. Besides, I'm helping her become complete, the woman she wants to be."
*****
It was our third date, and the first one that got physical. It started with us seeing a movie. We walked into the theater only ten minutes before the start, but it was empty. I was holding her hand and guided her up to the second row from the top, giving us a perfect view of the screen below us. We sat and talked for a few minutes, slowly moving the discussion with sexual innuendo. When I first met her, she seemed reserved and almost shy, but lately had been opening up.
A few other couples came into the theater, spreading out among the empty seats. Two couples sat in the row behind us and I idly wondered how good of a view they had of us.
The lights in the theater went down as the movie previews started. I rested my hand on her knee and gently stroked it, somewhat moving it up her leg and onto her thigh. She didn't seem to mind it there at all, and in fact seemed to slide lower into her seat as if wanting my hand to move higher. Her hands rested on the arm rests as we watched the show.
As the movie started playing, my hand moved to the middle of her thigh, my fingers stroking her leg, squeezing it, and massaging it. She was wearing jeans, so I didn't have contact with her flesh, but I could feel the muscles and heat below them. Her breathing was becoming more ragged as I stroked, slowly moving up her thigh until I felt the supple inner flesh so close to her pussy. I could feel her hips moving slightly, encouraging me.
I imagined that she was always the 'nice' girl, the girl that everyone knew was beautiful, good, and pure. The girl who never had a bad word to say about anyone. The girl that everyone liked but that no one asked out on a date.
I was the bad boy who saw what she really needed in her life.
I moved achingly slow towards her pussy, letting my little finger press into it and slowly circle around when I finally reached it. I heard her gasp softly and one hand grabbed my forearm to stop me. She still was embarrassed to feel what she was feeling. She definitely was excited by what I was doing to her, but felt it was... inappropriate. I moved my hand away again and simply stroked her thigh, teasing her.
I glanced at her and saw her licking her lips with the lovely look of desire in her eyes. But the movie continued and we both watched on. Every so often my hand would begin it's upward movement, so very slowly, until it caressed her once again. And each time, her hips pressed tighter against my hand, her hand moving at the last moment to stop me. But... hoping that this time... this time she'd get the pleasure she needed.
I knew she was embarrassed by me doing this to her in the theater with several people possibly seeing us. But I knew she wanted to cum. I knew that I was driving her crazy with lust, desire, and need.
*****