Wanted: A Bad Man, A Very Bad Man

An intelligently confident woman, she always had something to say. Men either loved her quick wit or, not getting the humor behind it, hated her sharp tongue. Whether it was something her lover said or something he did, he'd have to answer to her. Acutely articulate, as if she was a criminologist or a reporter, she could sum up a situation in a sentence. Able to slice someone with her words and leave them bleeding, they'd leave her scratching their heads while wondering if she complimented them or insulted them.

Instead of rushing out the door to hang out with his drinking buddies, he'd have to explain his actions to her first. While some would call her high maintenance, she thought of herself as an active participant in a relationship. Yet, most men balked at her probing questions and evaded answering them. Most men didn't want her to know what they were doing, who they were doing it with, and where they were going. Most men were as distant in the relationship as she was actively and intimately involved.

Men, especially bad men, weren't used to the questioning interest of a woman in their personal and private lives. They balked at the honesty that she brought to a relationship. They hesitated at the give and take dialogued that she needed to stay connected to her man. The only time most bad man wanted her to open her mouth was to blow them. When she wasn't sucking their cocks, they needed her to shut the fuck up and stop talking.

"Shut up! Shut the Hell up! Just stop talking. What do you care where I go, what I do, and what time I come home. I'll come home when I'm ready to come home. I'll come home when I come home," men said to her when she asked where they were going, what they were doing, who they were going out with, and when they'd be home.

The most talking she did was to sass back her man before he slapped her and to tell him off after he beat her. The only talking she enjoyed doing, her preferred talking was pillow talk while naked before, during, and after having sex. Always giving men instructions as if they never had sex with a woman before, she always had a lot to say in bed. She especially loved dirty talk. Important before, during, and after sex, she loved talking dirty to her man while naked.

"Kiss me, Baby. Feel my tits. I love having my tits felt. Squeeze them. Harder. Squeeze them harder. I like having my tits squeezed hard. Now, finger my nipples. Pull them, turn them, twist them, pinch them, and bite them. Yeah, that's right. Oh, baby, you're going to make me cum just from fingering my nipples and before you even stick that hard, hairy dick inside me," she enjoyed saying to every man she was with for the night. "I can't wait to suck your cock. I can't wait for you to cum in my mouth."

# # #

Looking at her as if this was his big chance and as if she was the one, John closed his newspaper, smiled widely, and stood.

"Won't you join me?"

She wanted to roll her eyes and sigh her dissatisfaction. She wished her was bigger, taller, and more muscular. She wished he was better looking. Instead of joining him, she wanted to run away from him screaming. She wanted to blurt out how she truly felt that she'd rather swallow worms than to join him for coffee but she didn't. Instead she reluctantly nodded her agreement to join him for coffee.

Yet, before even joining him, she was already bored to death. While trying to summon the motivation to join him, as if embarrassed to be seen with him, she looked around the café at all the people to see if anyone was looking. Of course, with her a sexy sight to see, every man and some women stared at Susan. As if they wished they could sexually be with her, no matter where she went, people always stared at her.

Instead of wondering what she was going to say to him, she wondered what he was like in bed. Unable to suppress the thought, she wondered if he had a big dick. Obviously, with him enamored with her huge breasts, she already knew that he liked big tits. She wondered what else he liked about her and/or about women in general. She wondered if he liked eating pussy. Right behind sucking cock and fucking, having her pussy fingered and/or licked were two of her favorite, sexual things to do.

"Sure. That would be nice," she said feigning her interest in him.

He already had her chair pulled out for her to sit across from him. He gave her an infectious smile as if she was his special and expensive, unopened gift at Christmas. No doubt, he couldn't wait to unwrap her. No doubt, he had already masturbated over the lustful thoughts of sexually being with her. No doubt, just like all men, he couldn't wait to kiss her while feeling her tits through her blouse and bra and her ass through her short skirt and panties. No doubt, his sexual fantasy come true, he couldn't wait to strip her naked and have his wicked, sexual way with her naked body.

"What can I get you, your usual?"

He gave her an invading stare as if reading her and as if he knew her more than she knew him and obviously, he did.

'My usual? Now, that's a little creepy. He knows what I have every morning when I don't have a clue what he has every morning,' she thought to herself.

"Yes," she said smiling while pleased yet disturbed that she didn't have to tell him what it was she wanted. "My usual."

'I wonder if he's like that in bed,' she thought while trying to inspire her sexual interest in him. 'Instead of jumping on me and pounding my pussy into the mattress, I imagine him asking me what I'd sexually like to do. Yet, instead of playing footsie, instead of being politely cordial in bed, I'd rather be taken. I'd rather talk dirty. Instead of being sexually seduced, not even minding being slapped around a little, I'd rather be forced. Instead of being sexually teased, I'd rather he forcibly stripped me naked. I'd rather he'd fuck me hard and fast than to make love slow and gently,' she thought.

He left her for the counter. While he was there at the counter waiting for his order, as if pinching himself, he turned to look as if to see if she was still there or if someone else was hitting on her. He seemed excitedly impatient to return to their table. If anything, with him already showing her his attentiveness, he made her feel special. Quickly, he returned with a large, black, French roast coffee and a small bagel with cream cheese for her and with another cup of regular coffee for himself.

"This is all that I have in the morning, two cups of coffee. I should eat breakfast I know, but I don't have much of an appetite until lunch," he said seeming nervous. As if he was hot when the coffeeshop was air conditioned, she noticed a bead of perspiration on his brow. "I have a slow metabolism. I'll never be fat. I'll always be thin," he said as if apologizing for not buying any food to eat along with her.

As if she was his doctor or therapist, trying to calm him and relax him, she reached out her hand and put her hand on the back of his hand. Instantly, he looked from her hand to look up at her pretty face. He stared at her as if he was stripping her undressing her with his eyes and imagining her naked. As if making sure that he wasn't dreaming, he looked down at her hand again before looking up at her big breasts.

Then, as if imagining her topless instead of naked, he leered at her blouse and bra clad breasts, as if he was undressing her with is eyes again. Catching himself and turning red with embarrassment, he pulled his hand away to sip his coffee. Obviously, uncomfortable with his premature, sexual lust for her and her unreciprocated sexual desire for him, he focused his attention more on drinking his hot coffee than he did on staring at her big tits. Instead of looking up at her, he stared down at his coffee as if his fresh, ground roasted coffee held all the secrets to his future with her.

"Relax. It's just me. You know me. I'm Susan," she said with a laugh. "You see me here nearly every morning. You've seen me around the neighborhood. You've even asked me to dinner and to a movie," she said. Now she felt guilty for not accepting his gracious invitation for a date. She gave him another sexy smile but this time she gave him a naughty look. She paused while staring in his beady, brown eyes with her big, blue eyes with what she was about to say. "If the offer still stands, I'd like to take you up on dinner and movie," she said.

As if she had just shocked him with a taser or as if he had just won the lottery, he looked at her amazed. He looked at her as if he was dreaming. He looked at her as if he had imagined what she had just said. He looked at her as if he couldn't believe what she had just said.

"A movie? Dinner? Really? With me? Sure. Yeah. I'd like that. Which movie would you like to see," he said already opening his newspaper to the movie section?

"It doesn't matter," she said with a shrug. "You decide."

# # #

Once seated inside the theatre, she had no intention of watching the movie anyway. With her dirty mind always in the gutter, her mind was elsewhere other than on the big, silver screen. After divorcing her husband and with her not having had sex in a while, her mind was more on his erect, naked prick than on the movie. Her mind was on sexually teasing him and shocking him by groping his dick through his pants. She imagined unzipping him, pulling out his cock, and stroking him while sucking him.

Something she had done many times with many men before, she was prepared to do with him. She imagined him sitting there intently watching the movie while trying to build up the courage to put his arm around her shoulders. Instead of waiting for him to make his meek, romantic move of intimacy, she was ready to make the first, sexual move. Instead of waiting for him to feel her big tits through her blouse and finger her nipples through her bra, she was ready to reach her hand over and feel his cock through his pants. Not wasting time with formalities, instead of waiting for him to kiss her, she'd be sexually inspired to blow him.

She wondered what his reaction would be to her putting her hand on his flaccid dick through his pants. She wondered what his reaction would be to her continuing her sexual assault of him in the way that he'd undoubtedly love to sexually grope her. While stupidly watching the movie, she wondered what he'd say when she stealthily and mindlessly fingered the head of his prick with her manicured fingertips. She wondered what he'd do when she held his growing erection through his pants in her hand.

Returning the sexual favor, as if she was a woman sitting alone in an XXX-rated porn theatre while waiting to be groped, she wondered if he'd feel her big tits and finger her nipples through her blouse and bra. In the way that many men have done, she wondered if he'd unbutton her blouse and feel her tits and finger her nipples through her bra. She wondered if he'd stick his horny hand inside her brassiere to feel her naked tits and finger her erect nipples.

In the way she imagined feeling his cock through his pants, she wondered if he'd stick his hand all the way up her short skirt and finger her pussy through her panties. She'd love for him to masturbate her while she masturbated him as they pretended to watch the movie. In the way that she imagined stroking his prick, she'd love for him to push her panties aside and insert his finger deep in her warm wetness. In the way that she'd love to cum, she'd love for him to cum too.

As soon as he had an erection, she'd unzip him, reach her hand in his pants and down his underwear, and pulled out his stiff prick. She'd stroke him while staring up at him and smiling. Hoping to shock him, she wondered what he'd say. She wondered what he'd do. She wondered if he'd have his wicked, sexual way with her body in the way that she was suddenly horny enough to have her wicked, sexual way with his body.

Then, after taking him in her hand and making him hard, as if she was picking up popcorn that she had dropped on the floor, she'd leaned forward and take him in her mouth to suck him. She'd continue blowing him while stroking him until he ejaculated his cum in her mouth. So as not to make a mess, while giving him the best blowjob of his life and while still stroking him, after swallowing him, she'd suck him dry and lick him clean.

"You pick. You decide which movie. It doesn't matter to me," she said. "Instead, why not decide when we get there. I prefer seeing a movie that's not too crowded. I hate having someone sitting in front of me, behind me, and on both sides of me," she said giving him a sexy smile while touching his hand in the way that she imagined touching his cock. "I need my privacy," she said giving him a sexy smile, a naughty look, and a wink.

He closed his newspaper, folded it, and creased it as if saving it to read later.

"Sure," he said smiling. "Okay. I can pick you up around eight?"

She looked at him ready to give him her address.

"I live at—" she said before he interrupted her.

He waved a hand as if what she was about to say was not necessary.

"Don't bother telling me your address. I already know where you live," he said with a little smile.

As if he had just thrown a glass of ice water in her face, she looked at him shocked surprise.

'What the Hell? He knows where I live. What did he follow me home? Has he been watching me? Has he been spying on me? Has he been stalking me? Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. Maybe he peeps on me while watching me undress. Maybe, instead of him being a nice man, he's a perverted man. Maybe I should continue to date bad men instead of nice men,' she thought.

# # #

John picked her up in his car, a brand new, ruby red, Mustang GT.

'Even if he's not cool, at least he has a cool car,' she thought. 'My kind of car, I love Mustangs, especially GT's.'

Already growing fond of him, getting used to the idea of dating him, having sex with him, perhaps, even moving in with him, now that she knows he has a new, Mustang GT, she wouldn't mind driving his car. She always loved Mustangs, especially Mustang GT's. Only, she wished his car was a six-speed manual instead of the ten-speed automatic. No serious car aficionado would buy a Mustang with an automatic transmission.

"It's a loaner," he said seemingly as proud of the Mustang as she was in awe of it.

With all of her stepbrothers working for Ford in Detroit before Susan was born and before her mother uprooted her family and moved to Boston, they all had Mustangs. Seemingly, a lifetime ago, Susan was born in Boston. Yet, not knowing who her birth father was, no doubt, some John her mother fucked, she wondered how different her life would have been had she had a father. Who knows? Maybe in the way she had sex with all four of her stepbrothers, she'd have sex with her father too.

"This is my kind of car. I love this car," she said.

As if embarrassed to tell her, he told her the truth.

"My Ford Focus is in the shop being serviced. The salesman spent twenty-minutes trying to convince me to buy this car. Now, that I'm driving it, I love it. I just might buy it," he said looking at Susan as if asking her approval while obviously hoping to redeem himself for owning a Ford Focus instead of a Mustang GT. "What do you think?"

She nodded her head in agreement.

"It's a hot car and if you have any hope of having me as your hot girlfriend, you should buy it," she said with a shrug, a nod, a wink, and a laugh while blurting out what she was thinking. "I wouldn't be caught dead driving around in a Ford Focus," she said under her breath. "Yet, if you buy it, even though the automatic is as fast as the manual, you should buy the manual instead of the automatic. It's sacrilegious to own a Mustang GT with an automatic transmission," she said cringing while thinking if he was going to buy one, she'd talk him into buying a manual instead of an automatic.

He looked at her with embarrassment and shame.

"I don't know how to drive a car with a manual transmission," he said.

She waved her hand as if it was no big deal.

"Don't worry about that. I can teach you. You'll be driving around like a professional within a few minutes," she said with a laugh.

He looked at her with hopefulness.

"Would you come with me?"

She looked at him with suspicion.

"Come with you?" Instead of thinking of going somewhere with him, she thought of masturbating one another and cumming together. "What do you mean, come with you? Come with you where?"

He gave her a happy smile, the same smile that he had on his face when seeing her every morning but that quickly dissipated when she ignored him.

"To help me buy the car. I'm not very good at buying things. Instead of haggling, I pay whatever they ask," he said. "Salesmen make me nervous."

She smiled while patting his hand.

"Sure, we'll buy the car together. Yet, instead of trading in your Focus to the dealership and getting less for it, you need to privately sell that to someone," she said already guiding him. "You'll get more money off of the manufacturer's suggested price on a clean deal without a trade-in reducing your discount."

He looked at her as if she was already his girlfriend.

"Okay," he said giving her a thankful smile. "Whatever you say."

'Hmm,' she thought. 'Whatever I say? I need to change his way of thinking. I need to train him how to be more demonstratively domineering.'

"Moreover, instead of buying a car off the dealer's lot, you should order the car. Even though the salesman will tell you differently, ordering the car cost less than buying it off the dealers' lot. Dealer cars have manufacturer's finance fees added to their price. It takes about eight weeks for Ford to build the car of your dreams to your specifications. That way, you can order the car in the color and with the options you want," she said.

He looked at her as excited that she'd go with him to help him buy a car as much as he looked excited about buying a new car.

"What color would you buy?"

She smiled.

"Even though they brought back the Bullitt Mustang in Steve McQueen green, I'd buy an orange GT Premium," she said. "I prefer orange Mustangs over red. Everyone buys red, white, silver, or black because those are the only colors that the dealerships carry. You can't get a really good color unless you order the car."

# # #

He came around to the passenger side of the car to open her door and close it. Knowing full well what he hoped and wanted to see, when she got in his car with her short skirt already hiked up nearly up to her crotch, she flashed him her bright white, bikini panties. While flashing him her pussy mound, her pussy slit, and her camel toe, giving him a good, long, in between her legs look, she took her sweet time easing her left leg and then her right leg in the car.

As if he had never seen an up-skirt peek or a woman's panties before, his jaw dropped and he stared at her as if she was naked. Not pulling her skirt down, she knew that he could clearly see the tops of her shapely thighs and the bottom of her panties peeking out at him as he drove. Not shy, embarrassed, or ashamed, she rode to the movie theatre like that while flashing him her panty clad pussy.

Knowing that her low-cut blouse would fall open with her and give him a good down-blouse view of her cleavage, the tops of her breasts, and her sexy, low-cut bra, she leaned towards him while he drove. With her an exhibitionist and him, obviously, a voyeur, when he wasn't ogling her panties, he stared down her top whenever the road ahead was clear. Seemingly, they made a good match.

Continuing to prove that he was a good man, if he was a bad man, he'd already have his hand buried between her legs. If he was a bad man, he'd already have his finger rubbing her clit and fingerfucking her naked, warm, wet cunt inside her panties. If he was a bad man, fuck the movie, he'd be driving her to a cheap motel, stripping her naked, and fucking her. If he was a bad man, he'd soon have his cock in her mouth while humping her mouth and fucking her face.