Cougar Meat

I didn't answer.

"Was her pussy loose?"

"Well, you see ... she ... ah ... "

"Tell me you bastard! Was her pussy loose?"

"No. It was nice and tight. You see, she does kegels regularly -- you know those pussy exercises that build up muscles. She does them in her office at work. She was doing them today, sitting at her desk, and when I caught her doing kegels, she winked at me."

"Oh my God! The bitch! The horny bitch! She's still got a tight pussy?"

I hesitated, then, "Yes."

"As tight as mine?"

"Well ... ah ... well ... "

"The bitch!" Betty was screaming now.

It was a long night. Question after question pried out of me every detail of the weekend of sex from fucking her to eating her pussy. Betty didn't cry, she was beyond that. She was pissed. She was shouting. And when I told her that BB liked to take it up the ass she just yelled at me, like it was my fault.

Finally, I embraced her lovingly. "Do you want to go to bed?"

She shook her head. "I don't think we'd better. You're all fucked out and I'm all upset. If something ... you know ... didn't go right ... you know ... then things might get worse than they already are."

I held her close and kissed her cheek.

"When do you take her out again?" Betty asked.

"Wednesday. Same routine I guess -- but a different restaurant. She said we'd finish early. Said it was a workday. Wait till the weekend she said."

"The bitch!"

"I'll call and cancel if you tell me too."

"And get fired?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"You know what I want you to do!"

"Say it Betty. You gotta say it. We're gonna get married next year. I don't want any doubt in either of our heads about what's going on here. I'll cancel if you want me to."

A deep sigh, then, "Fuck the bitch. Fuck her like she wants."

Betty had gotten very upset as she pried the story out of me in every detail. Now she just sat there with a stoic expression on her face.

Finally she said with a chuckle, "I doubt if you're gonna be able to fuck me till that predatory bitch gives your pecker a rest."

I laughed, helplessly, and in a moment Betty joined me. "I don't think she gets tired of guys after two or three months. I think they just die off from the exhaustion of fucking her the way she likes."

Not every weekend was like the first. She eased off a bit, gradually, and each weekend became once or twice a night plus an occasional date to a top restaurant. Things just slowed down gradually. Betty was wrong. We got some good nights in after BB's lust level got a little lower.

Then after a little over two months the invitations stopped coming and I got a big raise. I saw BB "doing" lunch with a young guy from accounting.

One night in bed, several months later, I said, "You think you'll be fucking that way when you're forty five?"

Betty laughed. "It won't do you any good if I am -- you won't be able to keep up the pace when you're forty-five! That's probably why she uses young guys."

"By the way," I asked innocently, "who were the two gals you said were interested in bending over for me in the supply room?"

"You bastard! You're lucky I didn't cut that damn thing off when you were fucking BB! You damn well better be joking! I'm gonna patrol that damn supply room."

Betty was happy. We were fucking regularly again. We were making marriage plans. My relationship to BB at work did not change at all. Professional all the way -- except doing her kegels -- she still winked at me when I caught her at it, sitting at her desk.