She didn't plan it that way, but Kitty spent the next week totally nude, which was fine, but also totally alone, which wasn't.
For one full week the phone rang only twice, once from a bond salesman, the other from a sweet talking lady doing a phone survey on grocery shopping habits.
She remained nude the entire week. Nude and bored.
It did give her time to think, which she welcomed. She thought about working out a reconciliation with Harold, with mixed feelings about any reasonable agreement they might make.
On the sixth night she called James, catching him just as he was leaving.
"I've been working my ass off all week," he said. "Clyde and I are going to L.A. for a few days to visit Marcia."
"And a few of Marcia's friends," Kitty chuckled.
"Of course! I'll call you when I get back."
"Have fun," Kitty said, visualizing James with a harem of budding starlets on the make. She wasn't jealous. Just envious.
She needed a man damn it! Her vibrator just wasn't cutting it!
On the seventh day she relented and called Harold, feeling desperate.
"I just wondered how your business is going now," she said.
"Fine. Things are looking fine. Did you want something in particular, Kitty?" he asked coldly. "I'm pretty busy right now."
Her anger flared. "Look damn it!" she blurted out. "When you were down and called me. I invited you over!"
His voice changed from distant coldness to an amused tolerance, as if he were playing a game. "You're welcome to come over tonight," he said. "I'm free until ten."
"Until ten?"
"You know how politicians are, Kitty. They hold meetings at odd hours, usually in hotel rooms between speaking engagements."
"When did you start doing business with politicians?" she asked.
His voice again became cold and distant. "It's not a subject I are to discuss on the phone."
"Couldn't you come here?" she asked, immediately regretting the pleading sound in her voice.
"Impossible!" he replied coldly. "You know where I live now if you want to see me."
"Fuck off, Harold!" she snapped, equally cold, then slammed down the receiver.
But anger only inflamed her problem. She immediately called Tim, who also sounded cold and distant.
"I'm sorry, Kitty," he said. "But I'm in the middle of completing last-minute plans to kick our campaign into high gear."
"And your kids?"
Tim laughed. "Doris is bringing them down tomorrow to film some TV spots!"
"I can't wait to see them on TV!" Kitty replied tartly, again slamming down the receiver.
Another damned asshole!
The blues didn't let up, and neither did her driving passion for some action. But there was no action to be had.
After an early dinner, she showered, put on a fresh new outfit, more conservative than usual, and headed for the apartment of Sarah Bennit, arriving precisely at seven.
She hardly recognized Harold. He was unshaven, his tie and coat tossed in a chair. A well-tapped bottle of scotch was on the wet bar, open. He was on he couch, a fresh drink in his hand.
"When did you give up wine?" Kitty asked, surprised to see him drinking hard stuff.
"I haven't given up anything." He grinned. "Just added a few extras. Care for a scotch?"
"No thanks. What about your business with a politician?"
"That's three hours away."
"Is it Rone Curry?"
Harold smiled. "Don't tell me you're keeping up with politics these days?"
"I'm a citizen! I vote you know!"
"Of course. Just make sure you vote for the right man my dear – Rone Curry, the next Mayor of Phoenix!"
"So you decided to back him after all?"
"To the hilt! It's going to solve all my business problems, Kitty."
Kitty looked skeptical. "If he wins you mean." Harold looked at her as he would a child, like what could she possibly know about politics.
"Come here, Kitty," He smiled, patting the couch beside him. "Sit down. Relax. Sure you don't want a scotch?"
"Positive."
In spite of a growing heat that burned in her cunt, she took a chair opposite the couch, avoiding physical contact for the moment at least. Harold looked at her as if he knew the torment she felt, knew what she wanted. He smiled, as if that knowledge gave him an edge, and rubbed his crotch.
"Playing hard to get?" he said teasingly.
Kitty watched his hand rubbing his crotch, hating him for the power he had over her, having it and knowing he had it. But she refused to go to him.
"Tim Bladine's had a lot of experience, Harold. Once he starts his campaign the entire picture could change."
Harold plopped back on the couch, leaning back. "This is a conservative town, Kitty. The voters go for solid family men, men with good business backgrounds. The man's hardly made a living! And his family life is a disaster."
"How do you know that?" Kitty asked. "We have ways of finding out those things," Harold replied smugly. "His separation from his wife is public knowledge. After we spread the word that his kids won't even speak to him, the man won't stand a chance!"
"And after Rone Curry gets in office, you've got it made. Is that it?"
"You got it!" Harold grinned confidently. He sat up straight. "Now you toil sue something, Kitty. Why are you here?"
"I-I wanted to talk."
His eyes became hard. "Come here, Kitty, sit beside me."
"You're drunk."
"Not yet I'm not. It takes a few belts to endure a late-night meeting with a bunch of politicians." He zipped down his fly. "But you didn't come to talk politics, Kitty!"
"Then you tell me why I came," Kitty said.
"For this." Harold pulled out his cock, already semi-hard. "Don't deny it, Kitty. I know you."
"You used to know me!"
He reached for her hand and pulled her to the couch. Kitty eyed him with a mixture of desire and contempt, wondering how she ever let herself get into such a situation.
"We might be able to work something out," he said, touching her thigh, sending sparks flying to her damp pussy.
Still she resisted. "Like what Harold?" she asked, knowing his answer before he began.
He grinned, squeezing her soft flesh. "You like the house, the big car, money enough for clothes and…"
"Yes, I like those things," she interrupted, clasping his hand, but unwilling to push it away, unwilling and unable. His hand crawled slowly up her thigh until it rested on her moist panties. His fingers began searching around the elastic band.
"What do you have in mind?" she asked, trying not to show the fierce desire she felt for him, for any man at that moment.
"We stand a chance to make some big money after this election," he continued. "Big money!"
"We?" Kitty asked.
"Sarah and I. She set it all up, introduced me to Rone Curry, negotiated the deal. She's got one sharp head."
Even as he talked so glowingly of Sarah, his hand continued to explore her cunt, his fingers teasing the lips of her wet pussy.
"You two must be getting along rifle," Kitty said, wanting to push his hand away, but unable to give up the tingling sensation his fingers caused as they dipped into her cunt.
"Not all that good," Harold replied. "She's very possessive. Very jealous. It's sometimes hard to live with."
"I can imagine."
"I need more than she has to offer, Kitty."
She saw the picture and began thinking of how she would respond to it as he slipped more fingers under her panties, deeper into her pussy.
"You'll want a divorce, of course," she said.
"Sarah wants me to get a divorce. I'm not so sure that's what I want."
No, thought Kitty, smiling to herself. You want your mistress to be your wife and your wife to become your mistress. The only way you can manage that is to stay married to one, with visiting privileges, and live with the other.
She let him slip her panties down and spread her legs as he bent down, tongue darting out, to taste her pussy.
It might just work, Kitty thought she would have a solid marriage, a good home, all expenses paid – and still be free to live her life as she pleased.
Harold's tongue went in her again, sending flashes of heat to her head, her eyeballs. Kitty could never remember wanting it, needing it, as she did now – even as her contempt for him grew as he outlined his plan to have his pussy and eat it too.
She couldn't keep her hands off his cock, which slowly grew. God, how she wanted it!
He looked at her, his face hard, demanding. "Don't play games with me, Kitty. I know what you want, and I can give it to you. But you've got to play the game according to my rules."
"Which are?"
"First, to admit you want it, want it bad, and that to show me just how bad."
Kitty looked at his erect cock, feeling a wave of desire that became unbearable. "All right, I want it. I admit it I want it!"
"That's not good enough, Kitty. You've got to show me."
She wondered if the drinks were making him hard, even mean. He'd never talked to her like that before.
"I'm offering you a business deal, Kitty, just like I'm offering tone Curry a business deal. I scratch his back, he scratched mine. I scratch your back you…"
"Suck your cock on demand! Is that it?"
"It's a sweet deal for you, Kitty."
"And if I refuse?"
His eyes hardened. "I've got pictures, Kitty, of you and men, of you with women. I've got pictures of you with our gardener, in our own back yard! It could be a messy divorce, and you could end up without a damn thing!"
Her hand remained on his cock, which grew harder as his voice grew more demanding.
It was a far cry from what she really wanted, what she expected. But then life was a compromise.
"Take it, Kitty," he ordered. "Take it and when you finish, swallow. That's the deal I'm offering you. Take it, all of it, and swallow, or get out and see what happens next."
"How do I know Curry will win, that you'll get all this business you expect?"
"Curry will win. Believe me! Curry will win." She thought a moment about that, holding Harold's hard cock, looking at it, feeling his fingers once again crawl between her legs. She thought about her life if Curry wan, and about her life if Curry lost.
"You've got one second, Kitty!"
She took his cock in her mouth and sucked, then licked it all over, including his hairy balls, then sucked more. She felt his finger in her pussy, then in her ass. But she concentrated on his cock, on sucking it like it had never been sucked before.
She held his balls in her hand, running her tongue up and down the hard cock-shaft, then around the head, then she took it all, deep in her throat and sucked, and sucked.
She felt the come rumble from his balls to the base of his cock, then she thought she heard it roar up the cock-stem and gush out the piss-hole at the end into her mouth. She kept sucking as he gasped aid groaned. She kept sucking until the roar stopped, the fuck-juices stopped flowing into her mouth.
Then she looked at him and swallowed.
He looked at her with a satisfied, superior grin. "We've got a deal, Kitty."
She wanted more. She wanted his cock inside her pussy, deep and hard. She was just beginning.
Harold looked at his watch and pushed her aside roughly.
"Now get out!" he ordered. "I've got business!"
"Harold, please!" She hated herself for begging. She hated him for making her beg. "Harold, not yet!"
"Don't call me. I'll call you," Harold replied with a sneer. "And you better be ready to swallow again, if you want to keep that lovely house and car."
He was laughing as Kitty stumbled out the door, humiliated and completely unsatisfied.
"Never again!" she said aloud, looking at the bright Mars overhead, her fists and teeth clenched. "Never again will I be completely dependent on a man! My man!"