tagErotic CouplingsHow to Make a Woman Want You Ch. 01

How to Make a Woman Want You Ch. 01


Wayne takes Susan to dinner and makes all the wrong moves.

Wayne always liked Susan, his office co-worker, only they had a strict rule in place about dating fellow employees and sexual harassment. Afraid of losing their jobs, men didn't ask out female co-workers unless it was on their own time and their advances were mutually welcomed and women didn't welcome any advances from their male co-workers while at work. Waiting for the right opportunity to show his affection for her, while waiting for her to give him the go ahead, green light with a look, a gesture, or with her body language, Wayne lusted over Susan from afar. If only he had her in his life, his life would be complete.

If only she was his he imagined all the things they could do together. Going out to eat, going to the movies, even going bowling together, he realized all the fun that he was missing not having, never having a girlfriend. He could take her home to meet his mother. She could take him home to meet her parents.

Tall, blonde, busty, beautiful, intelligent, and witty, Susan was everything that any man would want in a woman. His longtime dream woman, she was Wayne's version of Christie Brinkley in the way that Christie looked two decades ago as a supermodel. Unfortunately and assuredly, not seeing him in the same light, she looked at him as if he was Billy Joel but without all of the talent, success, influence, and money. Had Wayne really thought about it, had he looked at himself in the mirror, he should have known that someone like her would never be interested in someone like him.

Striking out a lot lately for some odd reason, never making it to second base and never so much as getting a second date, he didn't have much success with women. Yet, in the way that Susan was always so nice, polite, and accommodating to him by always making eye contact with him, smiling at him, and helping him with the daily paperwork at his job, he figured that he may have a chance with her, if not for romance perhaps for sex. Then, one day, with them working late and everyone else gone for the evening, building up the courage to blurt it out, he seemingly and innocently asked her if she wanted to grab a bite to eat.

Even before she accepted his invitation, after taking her to dinner, visualizing what would happen next, he imagined her being all over him. As if her agreeing to go to dinner with him was his sexual fantasy come true, touching him and kissing him, feeling his cock through his pants before unzipping him and removing him from his underwear, he imagined her stroking him before sucking him. Allowing him to touch her breasts through her blouse and feel her nipples through her bra before moving his hand up her short skirt to cup her pussy through her panty, he envisioned making out with her.

A first step in any relationship, especially an office romance, where fraternizing with other employees was frowned upon, he needed to get her away from the office. He needed to ply her with a couple of drinks to relax her. He needed to show her how much he wanted her. He needed to have sex with her.

* * * * *

"Shall we go to dinner together? My treat," he said.

"Dinner?" She looked at him as if he was asking her for a pint of blood. "Yeah, sure, I guess that will be okay, so long as it's just dinner," she said giving him a long look as if trying to discern if he had an ulterior motive which, of course, he had and which, of course, all men had when around her. "I don't want to have to report you to Human Resources for sexual harassment Wayne," she said warning him with a toss of her long, blonde hair, a sexy move that made him wild with lust for her.

"Sexual harassment? Me? We're only going to dinner Susan after working late at the office," he said with a nervous laugh.

"So long as you understand that I'm not interested in you in a sexual way Wayne, I'll accompany you to dinner as a friend," she said. "I trust, when in my company, you will behave like a gentleman and not paw and grope me in the way that so many men, too many men, have done."

"Gees, it's not a date Susan. It's just dinner and some shop talk," he said. "So, what do you say?"

He imagined her being pawed and groped by a multitude of men, men who wouldn't take no for an answer. He imagined her submitting to their wills by getting naked and allowing them to have their wicked way with her naked body.

"Sure, why not? I already told you that I'd go with you, so long as it's just for dinner and nothing else and so long as you act like a gentleman," she said again, this time looking at her watch. "Besides, it's too late to buy something at the market for supper and I'm too tired to cook anyway." She looked at him in the way that he imagined her looking at him when he was naked. "I'm all yours for the evening," she said with a big, white smile.

All mine for the evening? Is that what she just said? Is she playing me? Is she teasing me? How long may I have her for the evening? Is she hinting at sex?

He imagined foregoing dinner to go back to her place. He imagined stripping her naked while kissing and kissing her. He imagined her stripping him naked while begging him to allow her to blow him and cum in her mouth. He imagined having sex with her in the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and the bedroom. He imagined making her his sexy bitch while totally ignoring her at the office so as to keep his job and not violate the company's sexual harassment policy with a secret, office romance.

With all eyes upon her when they walked in the restaurant, no doubt, people figured he must have money to have someone who looks like her on his arm. Obviously having grown accustomed to having men turn their heads when she walks in a room, with her disregarding their looks, and with him proud to be with someone who looked like her, he took Susan, his attractive co-worker to dinner. He thought that things between them couldn't be any better.

In the way that she smiled at him and looked at him while making constant eye contact with him, he thought that he may have a chance with her as her steady boyfriend. In the way that she made him feel as if he was the only man in the room, he thought that he may even have a chance with her as her special fuck buddy. Already in the ballpark, he couldn't wait to cross first base before hitting one out of the park with her naked and begging him for sex.

Eating, drinking, talking, and laughing, glad that he asked her to dinner and that she accepted his invitation, she seemingly had a good time and he did too. They each had a couple of glasses of wine with their meal and talked, mostly about their respective jobs and about the people they worked with at the office. Obviously more interested in her than she was in him, he asked her lots of personal questions about herself and about her family. Obviously not seeing the grimaced look on her face and not realizing that he was giving her a headache is when she had a third glass of wine before polishing off the remainder of the bottle.

Ignoring some questions that were too personal or strangely weird, she reluctantly answered most of his unnerving questions while not asking him any questions about him in return. The wine seemed to have relaxed her enough that nothing could foul her good mood, not even Wayne. Obviously to her, this was nothing more than a spur of the moment, quick dinner. Obviously to him, in the way that he gazed at her, a love connection, he was already in lust with her. No doubt, had she not had the extra glass of wine, she never would have answered any of his so personal questions about herself and her family.

Finally, after driving her home, they sat outside her apartment in his car while talking about tomorrow's workday. Showing him a little more of herself than she should, it was obvious to him by the disheveled and careless appearance of her clothes that she was a little tipsy. Knowing Wayne and no doubt suspecting that he'd sexually take advantage of her, she needed to flee this small, secluded space that he called a car. This is where she should have gotten out of the car and left him to himself to lust over her in his dreams with his hand around his cock that night but she didn't. For some inexplicable reason, she lingered in his car. For some inexplicable reason, she stayed there taunting him and teasing him without even realizing that she was torturing him by prolonging her departure. Maybe she was drunk.

* * * * *

Didn't she know how beautiful she was? Suddenly Sammy Kershaw's song played through his mind, She Don't Know She's Beautiful. Didn't she know how sexy she was? Didn't she know what she was doing to him by just sitting there while smiling at him and laughing at his lewd jokes and inappropriate comments?

Perhaps had she not had that one, last, extra glass of wine, she may have collected her thoughts enough to leave his car and abandon him to his bad self. Perhaps had she not been so tired, the wine wouldn't have gone to her head in the way that it did? Perhaps had the radio not been playing her favorite song, Unchained Melody by the Everly Brothers, she would have already alighted from his car, walked in her apartment, and retired to bed alone.

Adding to Wayne's impassioned lust for her was the way she was immodestly, sexily dressed. A little too sexy for office attire, her low cut blouse had fallen even lower and plenty low enough for him to get a good view of her long line of cleavage along with the bulbous tops of her perfectly amazing breasts. With her nipples making their big impressions through her bra and through the thin material of her blouse, his lips involuntarily moved in the shape of a goldfish. He could see even more of her big boobs whenever she leaned forward, especially in the way she was leaning forward now when rifling through her purse to retrieve her lipstick. Enamored with her full breasts, at least a C cup, possibly even a D cup, he wondered if they were real.

A good question, but not thinking that her lips may be dry from dinner and from the starchy port, house wine that she drank, he wondered why was she putting on lipstick now when she was getting ready to go inside her house? Suddenly the sexual excitement of the situation took hold of him in the way that he knew he was going to get lucky with his Prom date, Mary Beth Higgins so long ago, when she applied a fresh coat of lipstick before going down on his dipstick. With her taking control of his rearview mirror to bath her lips in bright, red lipstick, was that the signal that she was expecting him to kiss her? Or forsaking the kiss goodnight, she was going to go right to the blowjob?

He could use a little red lipstick on his dipstick right about now. Did she want him to kiss her? Did she want to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her? As if he was the bull and she was the matador teasing him with a red cape, is that why she's repainted her lips so brightly red? Red, full lips with bright, blue eyes, and big, firm breasts, she looked so sexy.

Having had so very little experience with women, he didn't know what she was thinking and what he should do. A total mystery to him, he never knew what women were thinking. He never knew when and how to make his move. Damned if he did and damned if he didn't, he wished he had a friend who could teach him all there was there was to know about woman. Nonetheless his inexperience and his inability to discern her motives, he had all the intentions of kissing her anyway, reapplied lipstick or not.

A spectacularly sexy sight to see, he looked from her lips to her breasts and down to her legs. He imagined her legs wrapped around his neck while licking her and fingering her pussy. He imagined her legs wrapped around his back while he made sweet love to her before fucking her hard.

She was such a sexy bitch and there she was sitting vulnerably in his car while waiting for him to kiss her. Watching it climb ever so slowly higher with her every movement and with every bump in the road, her short skirt had been driving him crazy during the entire ride to the restaurant and back. She had such shapely, long legs and with her not wearing any pantyhose, he knew that she was only wearing panties. Wondering what color panties she was wearing, he'd love for her to flash him her panties.

Yet, what if she wasn't wearing panties? What if she removed her panties at the office or in the restaurant? The gentleman that he wished he was, instead of jumping in his driver's seat, when she climbed in the car at the office and again at the restaurant, he wished he had stood there by the passenger side door to open and close the car door for her. Definitely, with her climbing in his low car in that short skirt, with her legs so immodestly spread wide open, she would have given him a between the legs shot of her panties or pussy, that is, if she was wearing any panties. Now consumed by the thoughts of her short skirt, her panties, and her pussy, again, if she was even wearing panties, his clue to know if she wanted sex, he had to know if she was wearing panties or not.

Now with her hem nearly up to bottom of her crotch and her knees parted enough to see her panties or her pussy, he was enamored with seeing so very much of her shapely thighs. As if he was Harvey Keitel as George Baines lying beneath her piano, in the movie, The Piano, he'd love to be staring up at her from his passenger seat floorboards. Focusing on her panties again, he wondered what color panties she was wearing. If she wasn't wearing panties, he wondered if she was shaved, trimmed, or bushy. He wondered if she'd allow him to kiss her. He wondered if she'd allow him to stick his hand down her top to feel her big tits and his other hand up her skirt to feel her panties or finger her pussy.

Now or never, the moment he's been waiting for, this was it, the point of no return. With her lipstick freshly applied and in the way that he imagined Loni Anderson looking at him, his longtime favorite sexual, fantasy woman, she looked at him with her beautiful face and smiled at him with those big, blue eyes. Waiting for the right moment, with her head back and her eyes momentarily closed while she listened to the music that the car radio played, he looked at her as if he was in love and at that moment losing his mind to her sexuality, he was.

She was so beautiful and with that freshly applied lipstick, she was so ready to be kissed. In that sexy outfit of a low cut blouse and a short skirt, she was begging him to feel her up while kissing and kissing her. Getting himself ready for some hot action, and with him already having an erection, a daring albeit a perversely perverted move, he stealthily removed his cock from his jeans and underwear and covered it with his shirttails.

He felt so exposed. He felt like such a pervert but he didn't care. He was too horny to care if he was taking advantage of her being a little inebriated. Perhaps it was the alcohol that she consumed over dinner but she seemed receptive to him making a sexual move. Perhaps it was the alcohol that he consumed over dinner that made him even more desperately horny than he was for him to be so despicable in removing his cock from his jeans.

"Thank you Wayne. I had a good time," she said opening her eyes to smile at him with her hand on the car's door handle.

"I had a good time too, Susan," he said.

She should have left his car but she didn't. She delayed her departure and prolonged her time with him by sitting there in an alcohol dazed stupor. Maybe she felt guilty for not being so forthcoming in answer his questions. Maybe she felt guilty for not asking him even one question about himself or his family. Maybe she figured that she was wrong about him and that he wasn't such a bad guy after all. Then, as if she hadn't noticed his car before and as if making up for her bad manners, he watched her staring at the interior of his car.

"What kind of car is this Wayne?" She looked at him as if he had built the car himself.

"It's a Honda," he said with pride.

"A Honda? Seriously?" Unable to hide her look of dismay, she looked all over the inside of the car. "It doesn't look like any Honda that I've ever seen," she said looking at him while chuckling. "How old is this car?"

"It's a classic," he said with a prideful smile. "This car will be worth a lot of money one day. Not a full sized car like the new ones, the Hondas today are too big and too heavy. No ma'am, they don't make them like this anymore," he said patting his dashboard as if he was petting a pet.

"Thank God," she said unable to hide her contempt for his car and wiping her hands with a wet wipe. "This car doesn't look very safe. Does it even have airbags?"

"Airbags? Yeah, I think it does but I doubt that they still work," said Wayne moving his hand across the dashboard as if he was feeling a woman's leg.

Excited and nervous, this was the moment that Wayne had been waiting for but dreaded the most, the much anticipated goodnight kiss. Always going overboard and always never knowing when to stop, he had difficulty in reading women's body language. Always it was a nightmarish wrestling match with him desperately groping the woman while trying to kiss her and while trying to force her hand on his cock. Always it was the woman acting as if he was trying to rape her. Women were such cockteasers. He hoped he'd have been luck with Susan.

He imagined after kissing her, after parting her lips with his tongue, and after feeling her tits through her top, and fingering her pussy through her panty, if she was wearing any, he hoped she'd invite him inside of her apartment. He hoped that she was as sexually attracted to him as he was to her. He hoped she'd want to have sex with him. He hoped that she was the one, his first, real girlfriend and fuck buddy. He'd love to have sex with her every morning and every night. The prettiest woman in the office, she has such a smoking hot body.

From all the women at the office, he liked her the most. A woman he could marry and have children with, he really liked her. She was kind to him when the other women weren't. She always said hi to him whenever they saw one another in the corridors. She always wished him a goodnight and for him to have a nice weekend. At this point of his life, it didn't take much for him to fall in love and he was already in love with her.

* * * * *

If it wasn't for the sexual harassment policy at work, he would have asked her out a long time ago. If it wasn't for the sexual harassment policy, after everyone had gone home but for them, he would have banged her already in the copy room, in the lunch room, and/or in the storeroom. He would have bent her over somewhere in the office, lifted up her short skirt, pulled down her panties, and fucked her from behind while feeling her big tits and fingering her hard nipples. Then, with a gentle push on her shoulder, he imagined her dropping to her knees to suck his cock. With his cum dripping out from the sides of her red lipstick covered mouth and staining her blue blouse in the way that Bill Clinton's cum stained Monica Lewinski's blue dress, he imagined filling her mouth with his cum.

Obviously expecting much more than a goodnight kiss, Wayne hoped for so much more. Hoping for a blowjob while playing with her big tits and fingering her erect nipples, he was expecting a hand job while reaching beneath her short skirt to explore her panty clad or naked pussy. At the very least, he'd settle for some French kissing while he felt her breasts through her blouse and fingered her nipples through her bra. At the very least, he'd settle for sticking his fat hand beneath her short skirt to feel her pussy through her panties as she felt his cock through his pants while kissing and kissing and kissing him.

"Well, thank you for the nice meal Wayne. Thank you for being a gentleman. I had fun," said Susan reaching for the door handle again. "I'll see you tomorrow at work," she said giving him a sexy smile before turning away.

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bySusanJillParker© 4 comments/ 16641 views/ 16 favorites

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