Part 2
I walked home and reflected on our conversation. Clearly things had not gone to plan -- sure I had made progress -- even bodily contact -- but I had also revealed things that I had never intended and that made me feel vulnerable. A predator can't afford to be weak yet oddly I wondered whether this line of conversation might ultimately be her downfall - a tool to lure but one that could wound if I didn't take care.
The following day I dutifully arrived at lunchtime and knocked on her front door. She answered almost immediately and ushered me in. She was wearing the same lycra pants that showed every curve of her sex, and a sports top that outlined her bosom.
"I'm off to yoga class at 2pm sharp so let's get straight to it," she said energetically.
I sat down on the couch as I had done before, and she disappeared into the kitchen to fetch the tea. A few minutes later, she handed me a cup and casually sat down beside me.
So go on she said letting her hand brush lightly against my leg.
I cast my memory back to yesterday -- the problem with making up a story was trying to remember what was true and what was a fabrication, however this time was different as I had no web of lies to keep straight. Sure -- some bits were exaggerated for effect but essentially I had told the truth -- not that I would continue in this vain. It was time to spice up the conversation and I started by saying that my wife had been ill. I wasn't surprised that this elicited a response in Kate and she immediately deducted that this is what had killed my wife's libido causing our physical relationship to suffer. She mentioned that illness, even subclinical illness, can slowly erode a sex life. Kate happily elaborated on this idea unwittingly contributing to my deception that I could never have achieved on my own. As she became more invested in the story, she created an authenticity that I could never have achieved. Her dark brown eyes swam in the pain and pity of her narrative.
"You poor thing," she said, putting an arm around me and briefly rested her head on my shoulder. "I can only imagine how you must feel. You know physical attention is as important as emotional attention. Have you not thought about, erm... ways of... alleviating the problem?"
"I talked to my wife about it," I said, "but that's not helped really. She even suggested seeing a prostitute but I can't bring myself to do it, or worse still, meeting someone online for a one night stand. It's just seems so empty and soulless."
"I understand," she said, "I would feel exactly the same."
I could smell her musk and I had an almost overwhelming desire to roll her onto her stomach and rip off her knickers to reveal her wet lips, but I had already decided this was going to be a deliciously slow seduction. She was nearly mine now -- I could feel it -- the emotional bond -- her pity and willingness to help me. Yes -- she was in my power now but I wanted more -- I wanted her to shamelessly offer herself to me - to beg for it -- and that would need more work. Still I had sown the seed and the more time it had to grow, the more enthralled she would become. My erection was full and ripe, and I suspected that she had noticed, but neither of us said anything -- her silence made her complicit in our sexual tension.
"Thanks Kate, you've been great already. Just talking makes me feel so much better."
"Well, as I said, you just need to ask if you need a shoulder."
"I guess I had better go," I said.
The end to our conversation had been a bit abrupt and I could tell from her reaction that she wanted to talk more, but up until now Kate had been firmly in control of our boundaries, particularly the timing of when our sessions ended and I wanted to shift the power dynamic. The prey has to become the hunted at some point, and I felt that now was the time. We got up and again she gave me a little hug by the front door. Blessedly, this was to become our customary way of saying goodbye. In retrospect I wonder if this is how she had seen her husband off to work each morning before he too had become ill and passed away?
I reciprocated pulling her into me - more so than was strictly necessary, but rather than railing against it, she submitted as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I felt the two mounds of her breasts soft against my chest and the patter of her heart. In a moment of madness my hand slid down her back to the nape of her buttock. I held the hug and then released before any egregious boundaries were crossed.
"When will you come again," she asked, with flushed lips and cheeks.
"Tomorrow," I replied enjoying the subtle shift in power.
The following day was another scorcher and I wondered how she would greet me given my advances the day before. All being well, she would be eager to continue where we left off -- which was with her fluttering heart and rosy cheeks playing supplicant to my overtures. Today I decided that I would take it a step further and ensure that in our departing clinch she would unambiguously feel my erection that threatened to split my pants. It's important to understand that a predator knows when its time to leap, and that moment was drawing close for Kate. I sensed that she was a natural submissive and provided that I kept my most obvious sexual intentions concealed, she could comfortably convince herself that any physical contact was nothing untoward -- just an accident or a friendly gesture.
The door opened as soon as I rang, and I knew that Kate was indeed under my spell. Today she wore a short skirt -- it looked new -- perhaps bought for this occasion -- and a white blouse that revealed the bulge of her breasts. I particularly enjoyed the stretchmarks that her tits made in the fabric. It was designed to entice, although I needed no enticement. Her blouse was also slightly unbuttoned, another subtle touch, highlighting the dark line of her cleavage. I stepped into the hall and gave her a hug.
"Oh," she yelped, not expecting the embrace.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
