Harold hadn't always been a dynamic, hard driving business tycoon.
It was Kitty who catapulted him into the leadership role he deserved.
She did it after getting tired of listening to his whimpering complaints about being overworked then overlooked for promotions and salary increases. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life caressing him as she would a child, holding a warm hard nipple next to his lips and inviting him to suckle.
"There, there," she would say, softly, in a songlike voice.
Then she would fondle him until his limp cock stood proud. Sometime he took it from there but Kitty frequently guided his cock into her hot pussy.
"What a man!" she would exclaim, either during a real climax or during a faked climax. Harold never knew the difference.
Then she would fondle his cock again and lick his withered prick-staff until it began to rise again. She would exclaim, as if he'd worked some kind of masculine miracle.
She would hold his erect cock and climb on top, doing the job herself, all the while whispering the inspiring endearments of the totally satisfied to her well-performing mate.
As soon as he came, she would kiss his lips in gratitude, cleanse his body with tongue and towel, then lie beside him as if totally satisfied, totally exhausted.
"You're too much, Harold!" she would say, urging his ego up. "Too much!"
Then she would listen patiently as he would, once again, go over his list of complaints against a greedy company that wanted profits only for itself.
"You're too good for them, Harold," she would say. "One day you'll have a chance to prove it."
"How? When?" he would ask. Finally after spending weeks pampering his ego, building his confidence, listening to his self-pity, all the while catering to his every sexual fantasy, she told him – giving him the shove he needed to gain independence.
"[Missing text] own business, Harold," she advised. "Start your him. You can do it! You can do anything!"
Harold didn't believe he could do it, but he believed in Kitty. If she said he could do it, he gradually became convinced he actually could do it.
And he did.
Now, after five straight years of building his business higher and higher, he had gotten the reputation in the business world of a dynamic leader who could speak the language of the businessman and produce results. He was independent, his own man.
But was he?
When he returned home to see Kitty, after two weeks with Sarah Bennit, he looked more beat, more filled with self-doubt, than Kitty had ever seen him.
"What is it?" she asked, serving him a glass of wine as if he were a guest in the house.
"I just needed to get away for an hour or so," he said.
"Away front what?"
"The office, the constant prodding…"
"Drink your wine and relax," she said. "Everything will work out."
It was the middle of the afternoon. Kitty wondered if he had purposely avoided visiting her at night, or if Sarah Bennit had forbidden his visiting her at night.
"I'm not so sure," Harold said sadly. "I'm not at all sure. Business is off, way off, for the first time in five years."
"It's just a slump. Things will turn around," Kitty said, still not sure she wanted to hear his sad story.
She went to the bedroom and changed into the only one-piece swimming suit she had. She needed to get in the water, without being provocative. From Harold's droopy eyes and turned-down mouth, she figured he hadn't been pampered in bed for quite a while. She didn't want to arouse him now.
He followed her to the pool, sitting in a deck-chair with a fresh glass of wine, and watched her glide gracefully across the water.
"It's even worse than I've told you," he said, after Kitty got out and began drying herself. "There's a chance I'll lose the business."
Kitty decided she didn't want to hear it.
"I've got to get out of this wet suit," she said, heading for the bedroom.
Harold followed her. She started to remind him that they were no longer living as man and wife and ask him to wait in the living room. But it seemed like a silky gesture. He was low enough already. No sense kicking him.
She skinned out of her suit as he sat on the edge of the bed admiring her body. In spite of her reluctance to listen to his sad story, or even to continue their conversation, Kitty was flattered by his attention to her physical charms. She wondered if he admired Sarah's body that much.
She took her time selecting the blouse and shorts she would put on, feeling his eyes crawl over her tanned flesh.
"No white marks," he said, smiling for the first time. "I see you still sunbathe in the raw."
"When there aren't guests," she replied, gently reminding him of his status.
His smile vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the long face of the tormented.
"We've got one chance to make out," he said, eyes lowered.
She laid out blouse and shorts and went for clean panties and a bra, determined to get dressed and get him out. He belonged to Sarah now. She could have him.
"The city is about to let contracts for a series of major public works projects," Harold continued. "Not just millions, but hundreds of millions of dollars. If we play our cards right, we might be able to get financial consulting contracts for a chunk of it."
Kitty froze with a fresh pair of panties in her hand. She turned, looking as if she couldn't believe what she'd heard.
"You're talking politics," she said pointedly.
"I know, but…"
"What the hell do you know about politics," Harold said.
"I know it's a long shot, but…"
Kitty looked determined, her legs spread, her hands on her shapely hips, the panda dangling from a finger. "You're a businessman, Harold. You know how to talk to business people. You don't know the first thing about politics!"
"We've been approached by one of the candidates for Mayor – asked to make a campaign contribution. Our reserves are still strong. It could give us a decided edge, if our man wins."
"You gotta be kidding, Harold! It's not that simple any more!"
"Sarah said…"
He stopped suddenly, bowed his head in his hands and looked like he was about to cry.
Oh shit! Kitty thought, remembering the early days, when he actually did skin their bedroom and cry – until she took him in her arms and nursed him back to life with her warm tits and wet pussy.
No more. Let Sarah lick his cock just to prove to him that it would still function. Let Sarah listen to his silent fears, his deep-seated insecurities. Let Sarah suck his cock, then crawl on top of it and later thank him for giving her such total satisfaction.
"It's the only chance we've got, Kitty," Harold said weakly. "If we don't get some contracts with the city, we'll be out of business in a year!"
Kitty cringed. He was a businessman, not a politician. He'd sink like a chunk of lead if he tried to swim in political waters. She couldn't just stand idly by and let him do that.
She sat on the bed beside him, dropping her panties on the floor.
"You've lost some weight," she said, rubbing his thigh, than his stomach.
"I'm not sleeping well Kitty or eating well, or…"
She grinned. "There's some things you still do well."
He shook his head, eyes down, "Not very often," he confessed.
"Let's see," Kitty said, unbuttoning his shirt. "Just for old-time's sake."
He sat like a mental patient as she undressed him, then pushed him back on the bed. Even his lips were slow to respond to her kiss. It was the touch of her tongue that urged him to part his lips and accept what she offered.
Slowly, very slowly, he began to extend his tongue to meet hers, to move slightly to the touch of her soft fingers on the insides of his thighs. When she touched his cock, then took ft in her warm hand, he was limp, totally lifeless.
She kissed his lips again, then his chest, her tongue making a moist line down his stomach to the edge of his pubic hairs.
"See?" she said as his cock began to come alive. "Some things never change, Harold."
She took the cock-head in her mouth, running her moist tongue around it, then down the cock-shaft. She took all of it, sucking gently until she felt his prick grow along the edge of her tongue.
"Some things just get better, Harold," she said, reverting to her old role of confidence builder, the woman behind the man the world thought was totally self-sufficient.
She licked his balls, sighing as if she loved it. In spite of everything that had happened between them, she did love it. The feel of a man's hairy balls against her tongue turned her on.
A lot of things turned her on now. Among them were knowing that the cock in her mouth, in her hand, was hard because of her, was yearning only for her, would explode with warm milk-like come just because of her. It gave her more than just a sense of power. It gave her a sense of physical satisfaction that she had never known as a wife who performed mostly out of a sense of duty.
She loved his cock, his balls, the smell of the man. The feel of his arms, his tongue against hers, his hands exploring her body, getting wet in her cunt. She loved the feel of his finger probing her asshole, as a child explores a mysterious cave.
She loved to roll on top of him, squatting over his erect prick, guiding it into her cunt. She loved moving up and down and watching the expression on his face go from wonder to wonderment, from desires deep satisfaction.
She loved the feel of his come squirting inside her pussy, running down her leg, the exquisite pleasure of throwing her head back and saying, truthfully this time, "I'm coming, Harold! Don't stop yet! I'm-I'm coming!"
This time Harold got the towel and wiped the insides of her thighs, her pussy. He stared at his handiwork, then bent-over and kissed her still-wet pussy, easing his tongue inside.
This time it was Harold who said, "I've never had it so good. Kitty. Never!"
"You'll never make in politics, Harold," she said flatly. "It's not your style."
She was getting through to him, just as she did in the old days. She could feel it.
"You're right," he finally said. "I don't know how I got talked into trying the political game in the first place. It'll mean sinking a bundle of money in some candidate I don't even know, then hoping for the best."
Kitty felt a sense of satisfaction in having made her point.
"I feel good," he said, smiling easily. "I feel good for the first time in days! I must have been a fool to seriously consider backing Rone Curry."
"Who's Rone Curry?" Kitty asked.
"The politician I was talking about, running for Mayor. I know nothing about politics. Nothing! Why in hell I even considered getting involved I'll never know."
"I'm glad you've come to your senses," Kitty said.
"I'm glad you brought me to my senses," Harold replied.
He looked like he wanted to say more, but Kitty turned away. She didn't want to hear any more, not yet. Nothing was decided between them, not yet. She didn't want to hear any more until they had some kind of an understanding on where they stood with each other.
She didn't want to talk about that either, not yet. There were too many other things she wanted to do first.
She felt a sense of relief when the phone rang, stopping Harold before he could bring up a subject she didn't want to face right then.
"May I speak to Harold please," came the crisp, efficient voice of Sarah Bennit. It had a cold, authoritative tone that was new.
Kitty handed the phone to Harold without replying.
"Oh, hello," he said, without enthusiasm. "Some personal matters. It shouldn't take long." He listened a long time. Then he hung up.
"I'm needed at the office," he said, rolling out of bed.
Kitty shrugged as he waked out the door.
She'd done all slit could do. If he wanted to save his business, the rest was up to him.
Then she called James to find out where the action would be that night.