Mentor Wanted

"Mentor Wanted"

Some of this story is true. Some of it is fiction. I guess it's up to you to wonder which is which!

"I have no mentor. I have no teacher. I am flying blind," Katie-Jane told her husband. She was frustrated. The professor who had guided her through her dissertation had assured her that once she was done, he would continue his assistance when she went to publish her non-academic work. He flaked out. Shocker. So here she was- trying to reach another life goal, and she was working solo.

Her husband, Eric, was supportive. When Katie-Jane informed him that she planned to get her Ph.D, he was there to help pick up the slack with their three kids. When she worked eighty hours a week, he was there to make dinner and run them to their sports. Now he was once again being supportive by listening to her gripe about her writing frustrations.

"You know," he started, "I could take your mind off of writing for just a few moments." Katie sat at their dining room table, and Eric walked over to her. He brushed her auburn hair to the side and began to nuzzle her neck. As he gave her little kisses, he reached across her chest and started to fondle her left breast.

"Babe. I know you're trying to help, but this won't help me finish this current chapter. Can I take a rain check?" Sadly, she proposed several rain checks over the last few weeks. Eventually, she was going to have to pay up. "I don't mean to be grumpy. I'm just frustrated because I don't know if what I am doing is correct or complete shit. Does that make sense? I don't mean to keep blowing you off. I just wish I had someone to guide me." She put her hand over Eric's hand, which was still resting on her breast. She squeezed. "I promise! I'll make it up to you."

"You said blowing!" Eric smiled. "Have you looked on Facebook for a support group for fellow writers? Or is there like a wannabe writers' website or something you could join?" Eric laughed at his joke. "WWW dot writers wannabes dot com. Ha. That's kind of funny."

Katie rolled her eyes at her husband and then pushed his hand away. "You are an idiot. However, you're an idiot who sometimes has decent ideas. If only you stopped at suggesting a writer's support group, I would have thought you to be a genius."

"I always ruin it by talking." Eric pulled out his cubby and boinked his wife on the nose with it. "He has better ideas than me, ya know."

Katie-Jane knew he was going to continue to bother her until she gave him some attention, so she closed her laptop case and sighed.

"I don't even care if you sigh," her husband said as he waved his manhood in front of her.

"Come here," she smiled. "I know he needs a little attention." Katie-Jane took Eric's semi-erect penis into her mouth.

"Ahhh...good wife," he moaned.

"Remember...the more you talk, the more likely you are going to ruin this." She winked at her husband. Katie-Jane pulled Eric close enough that her nose touched the base of his erection. As she rubbed his balls gently, Eric closed his eyes and let out a soft moan. Katie-Jane continued to suck up and down varying her intensity. She swirled her tongue around his head making sure to focus on the underside, for she knew how sensitive he was there. Eric was a large man; standing over six feet five inches, his giant hands could palm a basketball as if it were an orange- nothing was small on this man including his member. As his erection grew Katie had to use her hand to assist in her oral skills. As her mouth moved up, her hand followed making sure Eric's erection had constant attention. She could feel him getting larger, which meant he was nearing the end.

"Baby...if you keep doing that, I'm gonna cum."

"Mmmhmmm," Katie-Jane moaned with Eric still in her mouth. She began to suck a little harder and a little faster. Her right hand assisted her skilled mouth while her left hand held Eric's balls. He loved when she did that because it prolonged his orgasm.

Eric placed both hands on Katie's shoulders. She could feel the precum on her tongue. She prepared herself for her husband's finale.

"Oh...fuck..." Eric goraned. Katie-Jane did not change her rhythm. She continued as gushes of warm cum coated her tongue. She did not particularly like the taste or texture of cum in her mouth, but she did enjoy making her husband feel good. Eric shuttered as his chubby fell from her mouth. Katie-Jane took a quick drink of her coffee trying to rid the coating. "You just keep getting better and better at that," he said breathlessly

Katie-Jane stood up and gave her husband a deep, passionate kiss. "Thank you for being so patient with me," she said as she draped her arms around her husband.

"Well if that is how you thank me, then I promise to be patient everyday with you. Now get back to work." Eric slapped Katie on the ass and left the dining room. He's probably going to go pass out in his "very special chair" she thought to herself. Well either way, at least I can focus on this chapter before the kids get home.

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The next day was a typical Monday. Katie-Jane was a high school psychology teacher who taught on the West Side of Chicago. Standing at five foot ten inches with long, auburn hair, she was the minority in her building. She was one of the few white teachers, which did not bother her. Her students- for the most part- respected her. She did not treat her students as foreigners or poor, black students. They were there to learn, and that was their job. She was there to teach them and support them; that was her job. With that said, Katie-Jane worked long hours making sure her lesson plans were challenging and applicable. Now that her own kids were getting older, she did not need to rush home. However, with the youngest playing basketball, that posed a challenge at times with her work schedule. They made it work though.

When the final bell rang she dismissed the class. "Woah! Do not forget to read chapter three tonight! You need to know who Bandura was and why the Bobo Doll experiment was important."

"We got you, Ms. F." DeMarcus dabbed her up as he walked out the room. "Keep it real tonight, Ms. F. Don't be working here too late. You know it's not safe for a white lady past dark."

"DeMarcus- who you calling a white lady? You be good tonight, and give your mama and that baby girl a kiss for me tonight." DeMarcus gave her his classic head nod and walked out the door.

Katie-Jane sat down at her computer, and went through her work emails. She had no real desire to make something for "Stuff the Lounge," but she knew that she should be a part of the school community. bla bla bla. She was procrastinating. She knew once she was done going through her emails, she would need to open up her going-no-where novel. That's when she remembered her husband's suggestion about joining a writer's support group.

She opened up Google and literally typed in "first time writers support groups." She was shocked- there were actually hundreds of results on Google. Eh, you can always find it on the internet, she thought to herself. After looking at several different websites, she found one that was to her liking. It was actually a group who posted samples of their writing, and allowed others to comment on them. "Perfect!" Katie-Jane said aloud. "At least now I will get some damn feedback on what I am doing."

After she created a profile, Katie-Jane thumbed through the stories when one caught her eye. "Onward and Upward" was the title. Not terribly creative, she thought, but maybe it will be inspirational. As she read the short story, she found herself laughing out loud at the dry wit, but then moved by the raw emotional challenges the newly widowed protagonist was facing. When she was done reading the story, she was honestly impressed. Rarely do people impress Katie-Jane, but for an amateur writer this was pretty good. The whole purpose of this website was to provide feedback to other writers, so Katie-Jane decided to do just that. According to the story, the author's name was Jack, so that's how she started her comment on the bottom.

Dear Jack,

As an aspiring writer myself, it was suggested that I join a support group of fellow writers. I found this website and stumbled upon your story. I have never emailed a random stranger before, but after reading your work, I felt compelled. I can appreciate your dry humor more than you know, but it pairs nicely with your raw emotions. I don't want to pry, but are you writing from experience? If so, I am deeply sorry for your loss. If not- well then it was quite creative. I hope your character continues his journey and does not close the door on the possibility of new things.

Cordially,

KJ

Katie-Jane sent her comment, which apparently went to an email because she did not see anything posted. Not thinking much of it, she read a few more stories before making herself open up her own novel.

Katie-Jane's ideas flowed without stopping from her mind to her fingers to her screen. Before she knew it, she had twenty more pages done. Not bad for a few hours after school. She closed her laptop and headed home. For some reason, Jack's story seemed to light a fire under her ass, and Katie-Jane lost all track of time until she heard her phone buzz.

E- Hey sexy- are you coming home tonight?

KJ- Oh. shit. Sorry. Lost track of time. I am going to finish up this chapter then on my way. Give me like 10.

E- Sounds good. Dinner in the oven.

Katie-Jane didn't realize it at the time, but more was cooking than just dinner that night.

____________________________________________________________________________

The week went by without incident. Her son played well in his basketball games. Her students could articulate the premise behind social-cognitive theory. She even had sex with her husband...twice! During her prep period on Friday afternoon, Katie-Jane was sitting at her desk eating an apple (such a cliche) and grading some papers when her phone chimed. It was her personal email. Unless it was a sales ad, Katie-Jane never got personal emails. At first, She did not recognize the name Jack Jones, but then it dawned on her that it was from that writer's support website.              

Dear KJ,

Thank you for your kind words about my writing. I am not a widow, luckily, but thank you for your sympathies. I am sure there are days that my wife wishes she were the widow! Ha. There is some of my wit you had mentioned in your response. I have found that writing soothes my soul when my work schedule overwhelms me. This was my first crack at it.

Cordially,

Jack

Well that was nice Katie-Jane thought. But do I respond? Is that like a thing? She didn't want to be rude.

Dear Jack,

I am glad to hear that you are not a widow. You said your job was intense and writing soothes your soul. What is it that you do? Writing is just a life goal of mine, but I am finding that maybe I teach better than I write. Fun fact- I am a high school psychology teacher. Chicago.

All the best,

KJ

Katie-Jane did not like going by KJ at all, but she wasn't sure how these online forum things worked. At least she was being semi-honest with her name. Who knew if this Jack guy was really named Jack. Thinking it would take him another week to reply, Katie-Jane set her phone aside and got back to her grading. No more than five minutes later her phone chimed again. Surprised, Katie-Jane opened up her email to see that this time it didn't take him a week to respond but minutes.

KJ,

Is that your real name? Are you a basketball player from the Phoenix Suns? Kevin Johnson? That is probably well before your time, and now I am showing my age a bit, which is quite ancient. I am an architect. I recently moved to Memphis, Tennessee, to a new firm. I am not a fan. Writing is my escape. Fun Fact- Jack is the name I go by...maybe someday I will tell you what my mother named me.

Jack

The bell rang, and her students began to enter class at a turtle's pace. Katie-Jane had no time to respond, but she found herself wanting to reply. I could have myself a writing pen pal she thought to herself.

____________________________________________________________________________

"So what do you think? Do you think I should keep emailing this Jack fellow? See what he is all about?" Katie-Jane asked her husband as they were laying in bed on Saturday morning.

"Why not? I mean it would be good for you to talk to someone else other than your family or students."

"Hey? What's that supposed to mean? I have friends, dammit."

"No you don't. You work, and you write. You write and you work. Granted this guy is about your writing, but at least you're talking to another human."

Katie-Jane climbed on top of her husband and straddled him. Her long hair fell on both sides of her shoulders. She leaned down and kissed her husband. "But aren't you jealous that I emailed another man?" She gave Eric her joker smile as he called it...knowing full well Eric didn't have a jealous bone in his body. Eric grabbed her ass.

"Does his writing make you wet?"

"Eric!" Katie-Jane pushed on his chest. "He wrote about being a young widow and wanting to move on with his life. That kind of writing doesn't make me wet. Besides, he said that he is ancient."

"I'm ancient." It was true that Eric was twelve years older than his wife, but that didn't make him ancient. "Maybe your writing will make him hard. I know it makes me hard."              Eric moved his hands up his wife's shirt. She had no bra on. He fondled her breasts, tweaking her nipples. Katie-Jane moaned.

"I like that. What were we talking about again?"

"How you make other men hard."

"Hmmm." Katie-Jane leaned forward on her knees, and her husband pulled down her boxers, which she wore as sleeping shorts. Katie-Jane took the hair tie off her wrist and pulled up her auburn hair. Eric pulled down his pants. After twenty years of marriage, foreplay seemed to be long gone. If Eric didn't get his hand swatted away, he knew it was going to be a good morning.

Katie-Jane eased down on his erection. Eric's girth was not necessarily her favorite feature about her husband, but she learned to work with it.

"Slow babe. It kind of hurts." Eric's wife moaned as he pushed his hips up slowly. Katie-Jane met his pace, and together they found a movement that worked. Katie-Jane leaned forward on her knees, and Eric took her large, dark nipple into his mouth. "That feels good, babe. Suck on my nipple, baby!" Eric continued to increase the pressure slightly and then moved to the left breast. Eric pushed his feet up, so he had a better angle. He began to pump in and out of his wife. As he did so, her moans got louder as she neared her climax.

"Holy fucking shit, babe! Keep going. Faster. Yes. Please. More. Ahhhh..." As Katie-Jane's pussy contracted, the pressure pushed Eric over the endge. Wave after wave he filled his wife until she slipped off of him. "Thanks baby! That felt pretty good," Katie-Jane assured her husband.

"That's because you were thinking about your new pen-pal," Eric joked.

"Hey now. That wouldn't be nice if I did that."

"I think it'd be hot. Maybe next time as I slide into you, you can tell me how you want him to touch you."

"Eric!" Katie-Jane was shocked at what her husband was saying, but at the same time, kind of turned on. She hadn't thought about this Jack fellow like that, but it was kind of hot to fantasize about another person. She rolled over and put her arm on top of her husband's bare chest. "I don't think people get onto these writing support groups in hopes of getting laid."

"He's a guy right?"

"I think so. I mean at least that's what he said."

"He hopes to get laid." Katie-Jane just rolled her eyes at her husband, but the thought didn't totally escape her mind.

____________________________________________________________________________

Dear Jack,

We are Bull's fans here. Too bad your Suns could never beat the Bulls! If writing is your escape, what do you escape from? Just work? Do you have kids? Shouldn't we discuss our writing?

Kathryn-Jane (friends call me Katie-Jane)

Katie-Jane's interest peaked, but she could not figure out why. These were simple, boring emails; however, she felt a slight surge when emailing this Jack character.

Kathryn-Jane,

What a beautiful name. Much more elegant than KJ. MJ can't sell his mansion. Bulls are overrated now. Escape? Work mostly. At times I feel fenced in with my life, which is an accurate pun since I am an architect. Twin girls. I bet they are older than you. Remember. I'm ancient. We are doing better than discussing our writing...we are actually writing.

Jack

Jack,

I doubt they are older than me. I hate to admit that I will turn 40 this year. Sigh. What's ancient? Fun fact- my husband is 51. I am an old soul... must be why I like you. LOL. Twins. WOW. I have two boys and a girl. I like my dogs better. I have three of those as well.

Katie-Jane

Katie-Jane,

An old soul...I like that. Everything you say intrigues me.

Jack

Katie-Jane set her phone down without responding to Jack's latest email. Over the last few weeks she and Jack had sent harmless emails back and forth. What does he mean by intrigue? There is nothing intriguing about me. We talk about sports or dogs or kids. Not knowing what to say, Katie-Jane didn't respond right away.

When she woke up on Saturday, the first thing she did was check her personal email. It bothered her that she did not get another email from Jack. It bothered her that it bothered her. Of course, I shouldn't get an email from him, she thought. I never responded to his email. But his last email was short. He could elaborate on what he meant by "intrigues" me. Hell, he is a writer...elaboration is his thing. Not wanting to ignore her new friend, she hit the reply button.

Jack,

I am really not that intriguing.

KJ

Not five minutes passed before her phone chimed. She quickly picked it up.

Katie-Jane,

Maybe it's too soon, but if you ever feel like chatting instead of email my number is 430-905-9921. No pressure. Just may be quicker.

Jack

PS- You really are that intriguing

"Holy shit" Katie-Jane said out loud. Shit, she thought. She was going to wake up the family if she wasn't careful. Before she really gave much thought into what she was doing, she punched in the phone number, and sent a text. Then she waited...and waited...and waited.

J: Wow! That was a fast response. Why are you up so early? It's Saturday.

KJ: Best time of the day. No kids. Just me, coffee, and dogs.

J: I have coffee but no dogs. Sigh. My wife is allergic.

KJ: I love my dogs. And now we are texting about dogs. Not emailing about dogs.

J: You are quite observant. Nothing gets past you. Is this acceptable?

KJ: Sure. It's just some harmless text messages.

Something in Katie-Jane knew that it was not just some harmless text messages. At least for her. She was a happily married woman, and she was texting another man. Was that even a thing? Her desire to talk to this total stranger conflicted with her loyalty to her husband. The two amateur writers continued to text for another thirty minutes.

KJ: I have three teenagers who I need to feed.

J: What are we having?

KJ: Pancakes. Homemade.