Sex Kittens Ch. 03 -- Dora

Story Info
Hunter pursues an unhappy kitten.
6.8k words
4.17
2.6k
4

Part 3 of the 6 part series

Updated 12/26/2023
Created 02/09/2023
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Hunter

I spotted a short, dark-haired beauty coming out of one of the many hair salons I make a habit of strolling past. I struck up a conversation and was soon humping her in the backseat of the Lexus. But I sensed something wasn't right. The vast majority of women felt little besides overwhelming desire while I screwed them, and pure joy in the afterglow and whenever they reflected on the episode. There was simply no room for negative feelings like guilt or shame. I could proceed with my plans to plant a little cuckoo in their nest, confident the child would grow up in a happy home. With this kitten, however, I detected a strong undercurrent of unhappiness and fear. Personally I considered women to be the most delightful creatures in existence, and despised men who subjected them to verbal or physical abuse. I supported several women's shelters and legal aid agencies.

Usually the first time I fucked a prospective kitten it was over fairly quickly. The primary goal was to start the process of getting her off birth control, as well as building sexual frustration. In a case such as this, however, I needed more information. Caressing and cuddling her after cumming, I was pleased not to detect any bruises or evidence of drug use. Assuming the problem was her husband, the abuse appeared to be verbal. The extra attention also helped lift her spirits. I finished up by applying my Alcohol Special treatment to her cunt. Her husband would find her especially sexy, as usual, but after the next time he screwed her he would be unable to have an erection while intoxicated. I dropped her off after attaching a GPS tracker to her purse.

Monday morning after my secretary, Debbie, gave me her usual excellent blowjob I asked who might be available for a special project. She said we were a bit thin on experienced girls at the moment, with two out on maternity leave; would I like to train someone new? She suggested Janie and I told her to make the necessary arrangements.

Janie arrived in my office at 10:30; She was around 5'5", perhaps 36-26-34, short blonde hair, blue eyes and pretty red lips. Her D-cup tits were nicely displayed with a tight, plunging neckline top and no bra. I rolled my chair out from behind my desk and she dropped to her knees, pulled my cock out and began sucking it while I instructed her on how to unobtrusively keep the house under surveillance and learn their routines, and where and how to gather information about them.

I learned from Janie as I met with and fucked her over the next two weeks that the kitten's name was Dora (short for Isidora), there were two girls (ages 9 and 6), the husband (John) was a high-powered commercial real estate developer, fifteen years older than Dora, who was his second wife and former secretary. There were no children from the earlier marriage. John drank fairly heavily at lunch and at a bar after work before heading home. Also, he had a mistress he visited one or two evenings a week, often not arriving home until after 11 pm.

As I bent her over a chair and pushed up her skirt, I asked "How long have you been with us, Janie?"

"Two and a half years, sir."

"Any pregnancies?"

"Not yet, sir."

"No miscarriages? You aren't using birth control, are you?"

"Oh, no, I've been trying to follow the baby/marriage track for advancement but no luck so far."

I had one hand playing with her cunt and clit while the other squeezed a tit during this discussion. "Hmm, you know, I've got a lot of irons in the fire at the moment, would you mind special assignment for the next few weeks, reporting directly to me like this? We don't want you stuck in an entry-level position." I shoved my cock into her and started a steady fuck.

"Oh, yes sir, I'd like that."

"Very good, I'll speak to Debbie."

"OH GOD OH FUCK OH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST FUCK ME HARDER SIR! HARDER! OH GOD! Oh thank you for the opportunity, sir."

I shot my load shortly after her orgasm. "When did your last period start?"

"Ten days ago, sir."

"Good timing, then, you should be at peak fertility soon."

"I hope so, sir!"

I smiled as she left, but then my thoughts returned to the kitten. There was little to be encouraged about with regards to salvaging her marriage. I could simply walk away, or break the marriage and find Dora someone better. But her unhappiness gnawed at me, and divorce was always rough on the kids. Drastic measures were needed.

Dora

I hardly knew what happened. I encountered a tall, handsome stranger when I left the hair salon and found myself with my skirt up, legs spread and his magnificent tool thrusting in and out of my eager vagina. I had the most powerful orgasm of my life before he pumped me full of his cum. Afterwards he kissed, cuddled and caressed me at length while I floated far, far away somewhere. He kept saying how lovely I was. Finally he said "I suppose I'd better return you to your life", kissed me again soundly and let me straighten out my clothes and makeup before exiting his luxury sedan.

I spent the rest of the day in a wonderful daydream. John called as I was cooking supper to say he had to work late. I assumed that meant screwing Marjorie, his secretary. I was once his secretary and couldn't begin to count the number of times he'd fed that line to Gloria, his first wife, with me hanging all over him. Well, not even my husband's infidelity was going to ruin my good mood. I wondered what he'd do if he knew I'd cheated that very morning!

At eleven pm he still hadn't made it home. I crawled in bed and dreamed of my handsome stranger. I woke up to feel John next to me, peeling my panties down while he nuzzled my neck. I could smell gin on his breath and Lydia's distinctive perfume on his body. Good grief -- had he boffed both his secretary and his ex-friend's ex-wife and now he wanted me? It wasn't worth throwing a hissy-fit; I lifted my hips to help him remove my panties and let him proceed. He lasted maybe five minutes before coming weakly, then rolled off and began his usual light snore.

The next day I decided to fix one of John's favorite meals, beef stroganoff. He called again to claim he had to work late. I felt like throwing dinner to the neighbor's dogs. He surprised me, though, showing up as the kids and I were finishing; "Is there any left? Didn't take as long as I expected." I resisted the temptation to ask if he and Marjorie had had a tiff.

John downed several gin & tonics that evening. At bedtime he gave me a drunken kiss, pawed my tits and ass and fumbled to remove my clothes. I helped him with that and with getting himself naked. But when we crawled in bed he cursed, grabbed my hand and put it on his flaccid dick. "Do something, woman! I can't get it up."

Was that what happened with Marjorie? I fondled him to no effect; I licked, sucked and played with his nuts, still nothing. I finally said "Let it go tonight, dear. Just a bad day." He grabbed a pillow and slammed it on the bed in frustration.

The next morning he woke me up half an hour before the alarm. He put my hand on his dick, which was fully erect, undressed me again, sucked on a tit and played with my cunt lips. My body responded enough to generate some lubrication and he plunged into me and began a rapid fuck. When the alarm went off so did he, pumping a good load into me while he trembled and moaned. He lay on top of me while the alarm beeped before pulling himself up to shut it off and start on his day. Before he left for work he kissed me and said two words I hadn't heard in a long while, "Thanks, Honey."

I was in a good mood all day and, for a change, he came straight home so we had a regular family meal. He had one drink before dinner, a single glass of wine with the meal, and only one more drink the rest of the evening. The kids and I were spared his usual fault-finding, bullying and belittling and had a pleasant evening. At bedtime we kissed and cuddled but he did not try for sex, either that night or in the morning. That suited me fine.

The next evening he was home for supper again, but seemed more on edge and snappish, though not at his worst. He drank more heavily and hustled me into the bedroom as soon as the kids were down. Unable to perform, he bitched "What the hell's wrong? Can't you do anything right?"

I felt hurt and angry but realized he was lashing out in fear. "Why don't you sleep on it, dear, you can wake me up in the morning and try again."

He stared at me, then said in a low voice "Maybe you're right. Sorry I snapped at you." An apology? From my husband? Was the world coming to an end?

He woke me shortly after 5 am. I stroked his hard-on while his hands undressed me and roamed all over; I was eager when he pushed into my vagina and, for the first time in months, he drove me to an orgasm before cumming himself. He lay on me, breathing heavily; our hearts seemed to beat in tandem. When the alarm went off he pulled himself up to shut it off, then said "You were right, Honey, thanks."

Music to my ears! A thought occurred to me: "Maybe it's the alcohol, dear. You're fine in the morning after you've got the alcohol out of your system."

A gleam came into his eye: "Hey, Honey, that could be it!"

Idiot! Why didn't I think before speaking! He'd been unable to perform with either of his two sluts, so I'd had him all to myself --but if it was the alcohol, I had just explained how he could get it up with them, too. Sooner or later he might've figured it out himself but by that time perhaps they would've moved on and he might've gotten used to having only me.

I fixed stuffed green peppers for dinner, something neither he nor the kids cared for. If, miracle of miracles, he came home on time I was prepared to shove them in the fridge for my lunch and suggest we eat out. But no, the dreaded 'working late' call came as expected. He got home at eight, a trace of lipstick under one ear, and promptly mixed himself a double scotch and soda. He didn't even try for sex that evening; when he woke me up in the morning I wanted to scream, tell him to fucking go fucking wake fucking Lydia up for sex. But I always got the worst of a fight so I said nothing. My pussy was dry as a bone so I gave him a blow job. His cum nearly made me throw up.

After he left for work I cried. I had no desire to get out of bed, but it was a school day. Then what? Oh, right, I had an appointment at the hair salon. The Handsome Stranger! Oh, how I wished he would be there! Probably I would never see him again, but the fantasy, the sliver of hope, was enough to put a smile on my face and a song in my aching heart.

I always liked to dress well on hair salon days, but after I got the kids out the door I took even more care than usual choosing my outfit and applying makeup. I had to walk quickly to catch the subway and make my appointment on time. When I finished, paid the stylist and walked out the door, I almost cried when I didn't see HS, as I began to think of him. Then I glanced down the block and there he was!

My heart soared; I walked quickly toward him and his dazzling smile. His car pulled up just as I reached him; he opened the door for me, saying "Hello, kitten" in his low, sexy voice and we were soon kissing while the car drove along. He did not, this time, fuck me in the back seat; we pulled into an underground garage and he carried me to an elevator and on to a luxurious hotel suite.

Once in the bedroom he set me down and we quickly undressed each other. I delighted in running my hands through the dark curls on his chest. When I removed his trousers and underwear I was thrilled at the sight of his magnificent cock standing at attention. Once he had me stripped he carried me to the bed, kissing, sucking, caressing me; I was nearly out of my mind with desire. He spread open my cunt lips, played with my pussy and clit; he rubbed some sort of gel into them, then positioned his tool and shoved it in all the way. What a glorious feeling! He began fucking me and I came almost immediately. He kept going, my thoughts consumed by the feel of his cock sliding in and out of my hot, wet, tight pussy. I came again and yet again before he began spurting, filling and overfilling my vagina.

He pulled out, kissed and cuddled me a bit, then got up and left the room. I sat up against the padded headboard, anticipating his return since he had bothered to take me to a hotel. To my surprise another man came in; he was a bit above average height with short, wavy blonde hair and movie star looks.

"May I join you?" he asked; my body caught fire again and I nodded agreement, unable to speak. His cock was similar in length and girth to John's, but his lovemaking was excellent and I came twice before he added his jism to HS's and left. All the while we fucked he kept saying things like "You are so beautiful, I love your eyes, your lips, your hair, your breasts are magnificent, it feels so good to drive my dick in and out of your pussy..." I moaned and thrashed and convulsed.

Another man stepped in, shorter but more muscular with long, dark hair, very dark skin and soulful brown eyes. He asked the same polite "May I join you?"

My body screamed Yes! while I managed to squeak "Please." After undressing he piled some pillows in the middle of the bed, positioned me on hands and knees facing the foot, and took me doggie-style for another incredibly wonderful fuck. Like the previous man he kept praising me throughout.

Six handsome men I'd never seen before fucked me; they were of all sorts, two black, three white, one asiatic Indian with caramel-colored skin who was simply beautiful. Their heights, build, hair and eye colors, faces, and cocks varied, but they all were amazing lovers and lavished me with praise, pumped me full of cum and thanked me afterward. I thought an endless parade of men were simply going to fuck me to death and what a marvelous way to go!

When the sixth left HS returned, climbed in next to me, took me in his arms and asked "Did you enjoy yourself, kitten?"

"Oh my god yes! But why did you share me with all those guys? Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"When I made love to you the first time, I detected desire, excitement and joy, but also pain and fear. That saddened me. I assume your husband or father or mother or someone has berated, belittled and humiliated you over a long time. I thought you needed to be shown just how precious you are -- you're a goddess, deserving of worship and devotion, not abuse. The memory of this day will give you courage and strength. I think you face some tough choices ahead -- abuse tends to accelerate over time." He gave me a long kiss.

When we broke I said "I've been so miserable. I hoped against hope I'd see you today. I'm so glad you came back."

"I'm glad as well. I was worried about you. I don't want to pry, don't tell me anything you're not comfortable with, but does your husband mistreat you? And let me hasten to say, I've never been married and don't intend to be." He kissed my forehead; I understood he didn't want me fantasizing about a future together.

"My husband drinks too much. He finds fault and lays blame everywhere but on himself. He calls as I'm fixing dinner to say he has to work late, when I know he's fucking his secretary. He sometimes stays out until after midnight, crawls into bed reeking of booze and another woman's perfume, and expects to have sex with me."

"Any children?"

"Two daughters, ages 9 and 6."

"Do you still love him?"

That was a tough one. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. "Yes, I can't help it, I still do. He was having a problem, couldn't perform in bed, apparently not with me or either of those two sluts, then he got horny one morning and made love to me and it felt so good. He quit 'working late', quit acting so mean to me and the kids. After another night where he couldn't get it up but woke me at 5 am and performed just fine it occurred to me it might be the booze. So like an idiot I mentioned that to him and he couldn't wait to go back to those other two."

"How crass of him, how awful for you, kitten. You deserve better. Has he ever struck you?"

"No. But I worry he might someday, or worse, one of the kids."

"Have you thought about divorce? Not advocating it, just wondered if you had considered it."

"Considered, yes, but divorce is so hard on children."

"I agree. So is a toxic marriage and abusive behavior but I admire you for trying to keep your family together."

"Thanks."

"Kitten, I'm going to give you two cards. One is for an excellent marriage counselor. The other is for a top-notch divorce lawyer. Keep them: regardless of what you decide to do now, you might want to contact one or the other in the future. Trust yourself -- you are stronger and wiser than that negative voice in your home or head gives you credit for. The next time you find yourself under attack, one of your lovers from today will come into your thoughts to shield you. Remember: you deserve better."

"Oh my! How can I ever thank you?"

"Ahem. Spread your legs woman and let me count the ways!" I giggled and he sent me back into orbit. When he finished he once again applied some sort of gel to my cunt -- I'd have to remember to ask him about that sometime.

That evening John made it home around eight. He barely said hello on his way to the mini-bar where he fixed himself a double scotch-and-soda, gulped it down and fixed himself another. I asked if he'd like me to warm up some supper and he practically bit my head off. I sent the kids to their rooms with "Daddy isn't feeling well" and retreated to the bedroom to read. I went to sleep around ten and was vaguely aware of his joining me in bed sometime later. He reeked of booze and fell asleep quickly.

Around four-thirty he woke up, used the bathroom, then crawled back in bed and began fondling me. I was surprised to find myself responding, my nipples getting hard, my pussy wet, my skin shivering with desire. I didn't climax but enjoyed his lovemaking anyway. His "Thank you, Honey" melted my heart.

No, I didn't want a divorce, I just wanted him to treat me with love and respect. One of the six men popped into my head to say That's what you deserve! Oh, wow, HS wasn't kidding!

John

I thought I had it all figured out, I just needed to lay off the booze and I could perform properly. It seemed to work with Dora, and the first time I tried it with Marjorie. I got hard when she kissed me at the end of the workday so I followed her to her place, screwed for more than an hour and then went home to Dora. I was really craving a drink, though, and opted for booze rather than sex that evening. I woke up hard toward morning and Dora responded well; she was hot and wet and had an orgasm before I unloaded.

Two sexy babes satisfied; Lydia had sneered at me when I couldn't get it up the last time I was with her but I felt confident I could rock her world once again. I blew Marjorie off the next afternoon and headed straight to Lydia's.

I rang her doorbell; she answered with a drink in her hand. "Hello, John, is it Big John or Little John today?" she asked, her voice dripping with contempt.

I started to say Try me and see but her tone was a real turn off. I said "Forget it" and left. She snorted in derision. Lydia was a beauty but could be petty or cruel at times.

Now what? I was horny and craving a drink. I called Marjorie; she wasn't happy with me but, of course, I was her boss so she gave in and invited me over. When I got there, however, I kept thinking about Dora. Marjorie couldn't get me hard; after more than an hour of nothing I called her a worthless bitch and left her crying.

I headed for a bar, but turned around at the door and headed home. Dora wouldn't be happy, of course, I hadn't even bothered to call, but she had the decency not to throw a bitch-fit about such things. She really was a sweet-tempered woman and, I had to admit, still very attractive.

12