3 comments/ 11639 views/ 15 favorites How to Make a Woman Want You Ch. 01 By: SusanJillParker 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. How to Make a Woman Want You Ch. 01 "Wait," he said. This was it. This was the moment he was waiting for and she was about to leave. What was he thinking? He couldn't allow her to go. He needed to stop her. He needed to strip her. He needed to touch and feel her everywhere that a fellow employee should never touch and feel another fellow employee. What was she thinking? She couldn't go and leave him like this. She needed to kiss him. She needed to stroke his cock before sucking him. She needed to invite him to her apartment for hot sex. "Yes," she turned her head to him. "What is it?" To be continued... How to Make a Woman Want You Ch. 02 Wayne makes his move but makes the wrong move at the wrong time. "Aren't you going to invite me inside for, um...coffee?" As if he was locked out of her house and abandoned to wander the streets, Wayne looked behind her at her apartment while hoping for an invitation inside. Not interested in having a cup coffee, he was more interested in having sex. "Inside my house?" She looked from him to her house before looking back at him as if he was asking her for money. "No, I can't do that," she said shaking her head from side to side as if she needed that extra measure of negativity to make him understand that no meant no. "Uh, uh. I, um, live with a roommate," she said skewing her face that made him suspect that she was lying. She didn't mention a roommate over dinner. He figured someone who looked like her was too selfish to share her place and her life with anyone, especially with someone who looked like him. He figured she definitely lived alone. No doubt, someone who looked like her didn't want to share her bathroom and/or her mirrors with anyone else but herself. No doubt, someone who looked like her needed the personal privacy so that she could get ready for her day. No doubt, someone who looked like her needed her private space to have sex with whomever she wanted and whenever she wanted to invite someone in her bed. "Oh," he said. "I'm sure she's already sleeping by now," she said looking at her watch again and smiling up at him again. A loss for words, "Oh," he said again. In the way her eyebrows raised with her words, an involuntary reaction, he knew she was lying. He could just tell she was making excuses not to invite him inside. "Besides, my place is such a frightful mess," she said. "I don't pick up the place until the weekend. I have clothes everywhere." Believing some of the things she said and not others, he believed that she had clothes strewn everywhere. Just waiting for him to touch them, feel them, and sniff them, Wayne imagined her sexy bras and colorful, aromatic panties strewn everywhere. He'd love to be sitting in her house while she was in the kitchen making coffee while he was feeling her bras and sniffing her panties that were left all over the floor by his feet. "I see," he said. "And, a busy day with preparing for a staff meeting, I have to get up early for work tomorrow," she said making another excuse incase the first two excuses weren't enough. "You know me, the office manager and the first one in to open the doors and turn off the alarm." "Some other time," he said overwhelmed with disappointment that he wouldn't be having sex with Susan, not tonight anyway. "Yes, another time would be better," she said. Knowing there would never be another time, wanting to pin her down, he wanted to ask her when. Instead he asked her what he really wanted to ask her. "Okay, if you can't invite me inside, then how about a goodnight kiss?" He looked at her pathetically while not giving up hope that she'd kiss him. He knew she wanted him. He could just tell. Why else would she paint her lips red with lipstick if not to kiss him? He knew that one kiss would lead to so much more. Maybe instead of asking for a goodnight kiss he should have just leaned in to kiss her. Only, rejected once too many times, he figured this was a better strategy with her. With him feeling her body and her feeling his cock that already throbbed and hardened out of his pants and that was barely covered by his tented up shirttails, soon he'll be inside of her apartment and on her bed naked while he fucked her as if she was a dog in heat. "A goodnight kiss?" "Yes, one for the road, so to speak," he said with a carefree laugh and a cavalier attitude as if her kissing him wasn't as important as it was. She looked at him with empathy as if she hadn't even considered kissing him before he mentioned it. No doubt willing to kiss him to be free of him, she looked at him as if he was just another frog that she needed to kiss before running away to masturbate herself in her room or in her bathtub. No doubt, with her working so much overtime and not having a life of her own other than work, she's been masturbating a lot. As if trying to decide if she was going to kiss him goodnight or not, she looked at him looking at her. "Sure, I can do that. What the Hell, it's just a goodnight's kiss," she said with a shrug as if talking to herself. She smiled an uncomfortable smile while leaning in to him with her eyes closed to kiss him on the cheek. * * * * * She was so beautiful. With her long, blonde hair, and bright blue eyes, she reminded him of a taller and bustier version of Emilia Clarke when playing Daenerys Tagaryen, Drogo's queen, in the Game of Thrones. Savoring this moment for ever while hoping that this one kiss would lead to so much more, he moved closer to her. Only when he leaned into her and quickly turned his head to her, instead of her kissing him on the cheek, he kissed her square on the lips. As soon as his lips touched her lips, as if the gates of Heaven opened for him and beckoned him inside, he heard angels singing. Already, he could tell that by kissing the most beautiful woman he's ever seen that this kiss would be the best kiss of his life. Popping open her eyes as if she was a heart attack victim at death's door before being shocked back to life, obviously not expecting him to make such a brazenly horny move, her eyes bulged wide open as if she had just been stabbed in the chest with Satan's pitchfork. As soon as their lips touched, he pushed his head forward and with her head pushed back against the passenger side headrest and held there in place by the force of his lips against hers, he parted her lips and forced his tongue inside of her mouth. Impaling her mouth with his tongue as if impaling her pussy with his cock, longingly kissing her as if on his Honeymoon, he forced her head to remain there for him to use her lips. As if all of this was preplanned and certainly it was, he was French kissing Susan, the woman of his dreams. Already instantly in love with her with just one French kiss, he couldn't believe that he was French kissing Susan, the fixated, future stalking victim and restraining order issuer, love of his life. Not waiting for her to return his passion with hers and taking advantage of her slowed reactions from the wine she consumed, he groped her breast through her blouse with one hand and lifted her short skirt with the other while still French kissing her. He felt her breasts, first one before feeling the other. As if he was deciding which cantaloupes to buy at the market, they filled his whole hand. Having been a while since a felt a woman's breasts and the women that he dated usually had small breasts, her breasts were so big, so round, and so firm. Then, needing to know if she was wearing panties or not, suspecting that she wasn't, he reached his hand beneath her short skirt and touched her between her legs to touch her cotton panties with his fingertips. Seemingly and alarmingly confused where to stop his physical assault of her, her lips, her tits, or her pussy, finally, as if awakening from a nightmare, she returned to her senses. As soon as he felt her nipples emerging, he fingered them to coax them to a harder erectness. Immediately she squirmed away from him to pull away from his inappropriate gropes and touches. Not wanting to force her just yet, he allowed her to push him away. Yet, not to be denied a feel of her shapely body and not ready to take no for an answer, escalating his physical assault of her curvaceous body, instantly he stuck his fat hand down her low cut blouse and into her low cut bra. A front snapping bra, his favorite, with his hand too big to fit inside with her breasts and her brassiere unable to contain both his hand and her big tits, her bra unsnapped. Now with her breasts free for him to feel and fondle, he was all over her C cup breasts while fingering her erect, hard nipples. When she tried pulling his hand away from her tits by his wrist, he moved his other hand up her skirt and forced his fingers between her legs to trace her pussy slit through her panties. Ready for him to enter her, even through her panty he could feel that she was moist. When he pushed her panty aside with his finger and felt her warm, sticky wetness is when she paused trying to save her breasts from his touch by trying to extricate his hand from in between her legs to spare him from touching her pussy. With her busy trying to preserve her modesty from his touches, feels, and desperate gropes, he returned his focus to her tits. Pulling, turning, and twisting her big nipples, while feeling the weight and firmness of her beautiful breasts, with her nipples so erect, he wondered if she was sexually excited by his touches and by his kiss or was she cold? He didn't have to wait long to know. "Wayne! Jesus Christ! What the fuck? Hey! Stop! What's wrong with you? What the Hell are you doing? I don't like you in that way," she said struggling to push him away. Finally free of him, she wiped the back of her hand across her lips to remove any evidence of his kiss. Fluffing down her short skirt, she reached inside her blouse to hook her bra before pulling up and straightening her low cut top. As if she had just wrestled an alligator, wrinkled and still a little drunk, she was such a disheveled mess. She sat there in shocked silence and looked at him as if he was a deranged, sexual predator and, there in that moment, he was. "I'm sorry but I've always liked you Susan," he said. Glad that he didn't say love instead of like, he wanted to tell her that he loved her. He wanted her to know the extent of his feelings. He wanted her to know that he didn't think of her as just any woman. He wanted her to know that she was his special woman. "Good God! Like me? How would you act if you hated me? I feel as if I was just fighting the attack of a rapist." "Please forgive me," he said seeming so apologetic. She looked at him as if he was Mr. Hyde of Dr. Jekyll and Mister Hyde. "And I have to work with you. Now how am I supposed to do that after you French kissed me, stuck your hand down my blouse, felt my breasts, fingered my nipples, and put your hand up my skirt to push my panty aside to stick your finger between my legs? You violated me. Eww. Gross. You're so gross Wayne. I'm going to have to report you for sexual harassment," she said sternly while sitting there so stiffly. "Report me? You'd report me to Human Services?" "For what you just did to me and in the pressured way you made me feel to give you sex, yes I must report you. You just sexually harassed me, Wayne," she said. "And if we have any hopes of continuing to work together, they must put you on notice. At the very least, being that we're out on our own free time, a warning will suffice." "I'm sorry Susan. I really am but I couldn't help myself. You do something to me that drives me insane with sexual lust for you," he said. She looked at him as if he was crazy and in that moment he was. "I'm mortified by your aggressive, sexual actions. I'm so very embarrassed Wayne. How could you do that to me? I thought we were friends." "We are friends Susan but that doesn't mean that we can't be friends with benefits," he said with a shit eating grin. "Asshole! Friends with benefits my ass. I can't be your friend now Wayne after you sexually abused me. I can't believe you felt my tits and fingered my nipples. I'm so very embarrassed. You humiliated me Wayne by touching and feeling me where I'd never want you to touch and feel me. Thinking that you were really sorry, I can now tell that you're not. We can no longer work together. I have to report you. I must," she said. "What you did to me will cost you your job. I'll see to that." "I see," said Wayne with a grin. "Well, in that case, you do what you must do Susan and I'll do what I must do," he said. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me? I don't take well to threats Wayne. I'll kick your ass," she said getting angry. "I had four brothers and they taught me a few things." "I'm not threatening you Susan. I'd never threaten you," he said wanting to say that he loved her. "It's just with you sitting here in my car, in the beautiful way that you look, I can't help myself. With your perfume filling my nose, your sexuality filling my brain, and with you wearing that oh so low cut blouse and that oh so short skirt, you truly are a sight to behold," he said. "Good night Wayne," she said with attitude. When she reached for the car door handle, he reached out to grab her hand by her wrist. In one last desperate and impropriate pull, lifting his shirttails with one hand and in one fluid motion with his other hand, he put her hand on his exposed cock that was already erect and outside of his jeans. Further escalating his sexual assault on her person, before she could realize that his prick was out of his pants and before she could pull her hand away, he wrapped her fingers around his stiff prick and forced her hand to stay there. "Wayne! Oh my God! Is that what I think it its? Are you kidding me? How dare you! What the fuck?" She tried pulling her hand away but holding her hand in place as if holding her hand to the fire, too strong for her, she couldn't. "I want you Susan. I really want you and I can't wait for some other time when you'll never invite me inside of your apartment. I want you tonight. I want you now," he said tightly holding her hand while slowly moving her hand up and down on his cock for her to give him a forced hand job. "Gees, Wayne, slow down. You're hurting me," she said yanking her hand away while looking down at his exposed erection. "I can't believe you just sexually assaulted me again. I can't believe you put my hand on your cock. Forget about having you fired, I could have you arrested," she said staring at him as if he was a monster. "I'm sorry Susan. I don't know what got over me. It's all your fault. You make me do those things," he said. "My fault? How dare you!" She looked at him as if he was insane. "How do you figure that it's all my fault?" "You're a cockteaser Susan. That's what you are. You act as if you're ready for sex then when I call your bluff, you seemed shocked." He looked down at her low cut blouse and short skirt and as soon as he did, Susan put one hand to her breasts to close her top and her other hand to her skirt to stop him from lifting it. "Look at how you're dressed. With your low cut blouse flashing your cleavage and your short skirt showing your panties, you're dressed more like a slut than you are an office manager." "How dare you call me a cockteaser? How dare you infer that I'm dressed like a slut? Even if I wanted to have sex with you, which I don't, I don't appreciate being attacked and mauled by you," she said. "I don't appreciate you feeling my tits and fingering my nipples. I don't appreciate you sticking your fat hand beneath my skirt and your finger inside of my panties to feel my pussy," she said raising her voice. "And I certainly don't appreciate you forcing my hand on your cock, holding it there, wrapping my fingers around you, and keeping it there while forcing me to masturbate you," she said staring at his prick as if she was suddenly interested or horny by the mere sight of her erection. "I'm sorry Susan. I don't know what else to say. I don't know what got over me," he said. "I swear if I didn't know you only had two hands, I'd think you had four," she said staring down at his exposed prick again while straightening her clothes. "When did you remove your cock from your pants?" She said still staring at his prick while waiting for him to answer. "On the way home when you were ignoring me and looking the other way out the window, I was thinking about doing that for the shock value and to get your attention," he said. "Then, when I parked in front of your apartment and you closed your eyes while listening to the music, I thought that was the perfect opportunity to expose my sexual feeling for you." "Expose your sexual feelings?" She removed her gaze from his prick to stare up at him. "Is that what you call exposing your cock to me? Can't you see how wrong that was for you not only to remove your cock from your pants but also to force my hand on you and keep it there?" She looked at him with compassion as if trying to understand why he did what he did. "You're right and I'm sorry. I promise to behave," he said. Her cue to go, she should have fled his car. Only, slowed by the wine and in shock by how her co-worker sexually assaulted her, she was numb. He looked at her looking at him. Only, he was looking at her with lust and she was now looking at him with detestation. It was then that he figured she'd report him for sexual harassment, the bitch. It was then that he figured he'd lose his job, the cunt. Then, figuring he had nothing to lose, going for broke, he shot for all the marbles. Even after voicing her indignation, with her still staring at his cock in the way that he was staring at her tits, she continued giving him mixed signals. Beyond wanting her, he had to have her. After being rejected for sex by every other woman he dated, tonight was the night that he'd have his sexual needs satisfied and how better to sexually satisfy him than his beautiful co-worker, Susan. Calling her bluff for dressing like the slut that she no doubt is and for staring at his cock in the way that she was, in one swift motion and with a heavy hand around her neck, he pulled her to him and forced her head in his lap. "Wayne no! Don't! Stop! Please don't do this. I beg you." "Suck my cock Susan. Suck it," he said holding her head down with one hand while rubbing his stiff prick across her lips with his other hand while trying to stick his stiff prick in her mouth. Refusing to take him in her mouth, she tightened her lips. "Wayne! Let me go! Unhand me you big brute." "Blow me, blow me," he said pulling her long blonde hair harder and harder. As soon as she opened her mouth to scream, he filled her mouth with his cock. "Suck it Susan. Suck it," he said. Humping her mouth and fucking her face, he filled her mouth with his prick. Holding her head with two hands and forcing her head up and down on his cock in the way that he does with his blowup doll at home, he forced Susan to suck him. Only instead of continuing to suck him and instead of giving him the blowjob that he so wanted and needed, she squeezed his testicles really hard, as hard as she squeezed her uncle's nuts when he forced her to give him oral sex. She squeezed Wayne's balls as hard as she squeezed her cousin's balls when he beat her, tortured her, raped her, and then tried to drown her. She squeezed Wayne's balls as hard as she squeezed her four brothers' nuts when they all stripped her naked to have their wicked way with her. Only, in the way that Wayne was obviously enjoying having her squeeze his balls, he and her four brothers all seemed to enjoy the pain with their pleasure. * * * * * Had he been nicer to her, maybe she would have allowed him to kiss her. Had he been better looking, being that she didn't have roommate, her apartment was spotless, and she was a night owl anyway, maybe she would have invited him inside. Had she been sexually attracted to him, no doubt, she would have given him what he wanted. Had she wanted him as much as he wanted her, she would have fucked his brains out before giving him a blowjob and allowing him to cum in her mouth while watching her swallow. Yet, in the way that he dressed, looked, and acted, she wasn't attracted to him. He was a disgusting loser. She threw open his car door as if his car was on fire, jumped out of his car, and slammed shut his car door. As soon as she stood outside of his car, his one last chance to have some more fodder to masturbate over tonight, he leaned to the side and lifted the back of her short skirt to expose her panty clad ass and held it tightly there. Maybe because she was a little drunk was her reason not to know that she was so exposed. With the car so low and her being so tall, perhaps thinking that she was stuck on the car and that the car door had lifted her skirt, unable to free herself, she was stuck in place. How to Make a Woman Want You Ch. 02 So surreal in his sexual assault of her and with him lifting up her skirt so quickly and with him having a good, look long of her panty clad ass, Susan didn't even know she was so exposed. Briefly, he held her skirt high enough to ogle her round, firm, pink, bikini panty clad behind before reaching his hand to feel her ass through her panties. It was when he pulled down her panties to expose her ass that she reacted. "Stop it you filthy pig. You're such a disgusting pervert," she said punching his hand to free herself before pulling away from his grasp. "God you're such a despicable man." "Wait, don't go. Before you leave I need to ask you something," he said. "What?" She said with the attitude of a diva while hostilely staring at him and while quickly pulling up her panties. She looked at him with anger as if he was a purse snatcher or worse a rapist. As if needing to protect her breasts from his horny grasp, she stood on the sidewalk a few feet from his car with her arms crossed and pocketbook across her breasts while leaning down to peer in his open car window. "I was hoping for a blowjob," he said wagging his erect cock at her. "Seeing that you're not receptive to that," he said slowly stroking himself, "how about a hand job instead?" "A blowjob? A hand job? Eww. Gross. Gees Wayne, what the Hell is wrong with you? You're crazy," she said staring at his prick. "I was hoping you'd invite me inside. I was hoping we'd have sex," he said. "Sex?" She pointed her finger of accusation at him as if she was giving evidence against him to be damn. "Yes, I want to have sex with you Susan," he said. "Isn't it enough that you practically raped me? Isn't it enough that you forced me to French kiss you? Isn't enough that you stuck your fat hand down my top, felt my tits, and fingered my nipples? Isn't it enough that you put your hand up my skirt and pushed my panty aside to finger my pussy? Isn't it enough that you forced my hand on your cock? Isn't it enough that you stuck your cock in my mouth? And isn't it enough that you pulled up my skirt and pulled down my panty? I think that's quite forced enough sex for one night. I'd never willingly have sex with you Wayne," she said straightening her clothes. "Sorry Susan," he said feeling sorry that she'd never willingly have sex with him. Yet, what did she mean by that he wondered? Did she want him to force her to have sex with him? Maybe she was into that sort of rough role play where he pretended he was a rapist and he stripped off her clothes for her to give him hot sex. Maybe she wanted him as much as he wanted her but fearing that she'd be reported for sexual harassment, she wanted him to make all the moves. "I can't accept your apology Wayne. You've apologized to me several times and with each apology, you've gone further with your sexual assault upon my person," she said angrily. "You were getting ready to leave and I couldn't help myself. Figuring this was my only chance with you, this was now or never," he said looking at her with sexual lust. "Other than you forcing my hand on your prick and you forcing your prick inside your mouth, I'd never again touch your cock Wayne," she said. "You're gross and disgusting. I don't even know why I agreed to go out to dinner with you. After being so alone and lonely with no one asking out the hot chick, with on one to go home to, not even a cat, I guess I was desperate enough to give even you a chance," she said turning to leave to go inside her apartment. She slammed shut her door while he put his cock away and zipped his pants. "Fuck," said Wayne. "Why do all of my dates end like this? Not once, never, does any woman agree to make out with me, blow me, or even give me a lousy hand job while I play with their tits and finger their nipples. I don't get it," he said slowly driving away. "What am I doing wrong?" To be continued... How to Make a Woman Want You Ch. 03 Wayne gets a total makeover. Wayne gets help in how to make a woman want him. That Monday, after worrying all weekend long over what Susan would do, Wayne was as troubled as he was depressed. He walked the streets after work with his head down and his hands dug deep in his pockets while thinking about all that went wrong with his date with Susan. Wondering if she'd report him for sexual harassment, he wondered if he'd be fired from his job for forcing Susan to have sex with him against her will. Then, forgetting his troubles, uplifted from his desperation with elation, he saw a familiar face in the crowd. "Jeff?" Seemingly not believing it was him, Wayne did a double take to stare at his old friend. "Is that really you? It is you. I don't believe it." Jeff stopped in his tracks to see who called him. "Wayne old buddy? How are you?" said Jeff shaking his friend's hand. "I'm good," said Wayne. "How are you my friend? Long time no see," said Wayne smiling widely at seeing his old friend. "I'm good," said Jeff taking a good, long look at Wayne. "Gees, I haven't seen you since high school graduation nearly twenty years ago. Except for a few extra pounds," said Jeff patting his friend's belly, "you look the same." "Handsome before, you're even better looking now," said Wayne in admiration of his friend. "You always could have been a model or a movie star. Are you?" "Am I what?" "A model or a movie star?" "Hell no. I'm an entrepreneur," he said with pride. "So, tell me all about yourself. Catch me up with your life," said Jeff smiling. "Are you married? Do you have kids? What have you been doing with yourself?" "Me? Married? Nah. Kids? Never. I don't even have a girlfriend," said Wayne waving a hopeless hand. "I mean, I had girlfriends in the past," he said puffing out his chest before admitting the truth. "Well not real girlfriends, they've been more blind dates than real relationships. For some reason and I don't know why, but I can't get a second date," said Wayne sticking his hand deep in his pant pockets again with a look of sad dejection mixed with hopeless rejection. "That's too bad Wayne," said Jeff suddenly seeming uncomfortable with the conversation. Wayne gave his friend a long look before confessing his desperation. "You've always been good with women Jeff, do you think you could help me? I'm going through a long, dry spell and I'd really love to get laid. Even though I've had lots of first dates, I can't even persuade a woman to give me a hand job, never mind a blowjob," said Wayne. "Well," said Jeff with a little laugh. "Already I see some obvious problems with your lack of success with romance." "What? Tell me. I'll do anything you say to finally have sex with a woman instead of with my hand." "That's a bit too much information Wayne," said Jeff taking a step back while moving his hands palm up to his shoulders with a laugh. "Help me Jeff," said Wayne with sadness. "I need to have a fuck buddy in my life." "Fuck buddy? Your focus with women appears to be only about sex. For you to expect to receive a hand job on a first date when most men are lucky to receive a good night's kiss is part of your problem." "Oh yeah? So what's wrong with that? I didn't think a hand job was that big of a deal with the woman today. Besides, what else is there other than sex? And, to be honest, I don't see what's wrong with expecting a woman to jerk me off after I spent good money on her to buy her a nice dinner. In the way that I look at things, I satisfied her hunger for food so she should satisfy my hunger for sex." Jeff put a hand to his friend's shoulder. "You have much to learn about women my friend. There's so much more to enjoying a real relationship with a woman than just getting laid, receiving a hand job, and/or a blowjob," said Jeff. "That's easy for you say," said Wayne looking at his friend with jealousy. "I bet you have a different babe in your bed every night," he said with envy. "I bet you have a whole stable of women that you can call for sex whenever you're horny." "You're right. I do have a lot of women but it's because I treat them with kindness and respect. I don't force them to do anything that they don't want to do," said Jeff. "Wow," said Wayne. "I wish I were you instead of me." "No you don't. Don't envy me. I'm not perfect," said Jeff. "We all have our problems and foibles." "Still, when it came to women, you've always appeared to be in control. From the time you were 18-years-old, even back in high school, you always dated all the best looking cheerleaders and even the Prom Queen." said Wayne looking to his friend for help. "Tell me, what else I'm doing wrong to never get that second date?" "Well," said Jeff looking at his friend. "Look how you're dressed. Forgive me for saying this but you're dressed like a slob. A woman doesn't want to be with a man who doesn't care about his personal appearance. If the man doesn't care about himself, how could he possibly care about her," said Jeff. "At the very least, you need to shower and shave every day and put a comb through that rat's nest that you call hair," he said tousling his friend's already messy hair. "You look a little like John Belushi when he played John Blutarsky in Animal House." "Thank you, I've always liked John Belushi but I see what you mean," said Wayne flattening his hair with his hand and looking down at himself before looking up at his friend. "You always look so put together. You look like one of those guys on GZ magazine. You always look like a million bucks." "GQ, you mean, GQ magazine," said Jeff. "Whatever? Whether GZ or GJ, you know what I mean," said Wayne with impatience. "Listen, in the way that too many people are focused on money, those who wish they were rich will never be millionaires," said Jeff. "Those who only want women for sex, will never be in a fulfilling relationship." "I've heard that before on Oprah," said Wayne. "Oprah? You watch Oprah?" "No, of course not," said Wayne sheepishly. "Not now anyway. I used to watch her all the time before she stopped doing her daily show," said Wayne. "I like Oprah. Even if she wasn't a billionaire, I wouldn't mind her giving me a hand job or a blowjob," he said with a dirty laugh. "Anyway," said Jeff. "In the way that some must change their thinking about money to succeed, they also must change their thinking about women when it comes to having and/or expecting to have a romantic relationship. Those who enjoy a rich love life are those who exude positivity. They don't need to pick up women. The women come to them and love just happens," said Jeff looking at his friend. "You need to be more positive buddy. You need to exude confidence," said Jeff pounding out his fist as if he was a preacher at Sunday Mass or a coach in a locker room before the big game. "I see. So, lemme see if I have all of this. It's all about not rushing the sex, dressing better, being more positive, and having confidence. I get it," said Wayne. "What else?" "Your car." "My car? What about my car?" "If I were a betting man," said Jeff suddenly looking at Wayne pensively as if he was psychic. "I bet you still have that same, old Honda." "Gloria?" "You named your car?" "Yeah, doesn't everyone?" "No Wayne, they don't." "Okay, I see your point. So, let me recap again, I need not to focus so much on sex but more on the woman," said Wayne counting off on his fingers while looking up at Jeff. "I need to buy new clothes, be more positive, have confidence, and buy a new car. Is that it?" "Myopically speaking, yes, in a nutshell," said Jeff with a chuckle. "You'll see that there is so much more than how you look on the outside and what you drive. What matters the most is the person that you are on the inside." "Seriously? I need to buy a new car?" Concentrating more on having to buy a new car, Wayne looked at his friend with skepticism while ignoring what he said about the person on the inside. "I don't see how my buying a new car will help me to get laid." "Seriously it will," said Jeff. "Trust me." "I don't know what buying a new car has to do with having a woman in my life," said Wayne looking off pensively while scratching his head, "but I could use a new car anyway." "If only by first impressions, women judge you by how you act, how you dress, and what you drive," said Jeff. "Women need to know that you have a good job and are able to support them and take care of them and their children." "Support them and take care of them and their children? Hold on Jeff. Back up. Not so fast. I'm not looking for a wife, I'm just looking to get laid." "Ah, but the search to get laid begins by looking for that one special person who attracts you and who is attracted by you," said Jeff. "Those who only see one aspect the outside appearance of a woman, tits, pussy, and ass, miss the whole woman that's hidden on the inside." "Tits, pussy, and ass? Now you're talking my lingo buddy. I love tits, especially big tits. There's this one women at work, Susan, who I'd love to—" "Some of the best women that I dated have been women who aren't as beautiful on the outside as they are beautiful on the inside," said Jeff talking over him while putting a fatherly hand to his friend's shoulder. "I see your point about only being attracted by the outside appearance of a woman. I understand. I do. Yet, much more attracted to how a woman looks like on the outside than on the inside and, like most men, I'm not ashamed of that," said Wayne suddenly needing to defend the way that he looked for women. "Choosing women from their outside appearance is as if you're only eating appetizers and desserts but never sitting down to enjoy the whole meal. Your quest for sex begins and ends with your search for love. It's only when you truly love someone that you'll experience the best sex in your life." "I understand what you're saying about women and about love but to be honest Jeff, I wouldn't mind having a wild night of sex with a couple of strippers dancing around my pole, if you know what I mean," said Wayne with a dirty laugh. "Spare me the images Wayne," said Jeff with a laugh. "My advice to you is to look for love and not sex. Once you have love in your life, sex with follow. In the way of Cervantes' Don Quixote in his search for Dulcinea and Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, you'll find sex along the way. You may even find love." "Don Quixote? Is he that Mafioso from the neighborhood?" "No, Don Quixote is a fictional character written by a famous writer of great literature who wrote the inspiration for the Man of La Mancha," said Jeff. "Whatever?" Wayne looked at his friend with confusion. "Romeo and Juliet? Didn't they commit suicide?" "Bad example. Forget about Romeo and Juliet," he said with a laugh. "You need to broaden your horizons. You need to read some literature," said Jeff beginning to look exasperated. "You need to immerse yourself in poetry by Lord Byron." "Lord Byron? I don't think so. Besides, I do read. Every month I read Playboy, Hustler, Penthouse, Car and Driver, Motor Trend, Automobile, and Road & Track. Reading the literature that I like, I read a lot," said Wayne proudly. "Well, if ever you find a woman who's into other women and cars, you'll be all set," said Jeff laughing. "Wow! Being that I like watching two women going at one another, you just described my dream woman Jeff. A bi-sexual woman who loves cars," said Wayne. "If only I can find one who drives a Mustang GT or a Cobra." "Whether you're looking for a nice woman to fall in love with or a wild woman who enjoys having sex with both sexes while reading about cars, I think if you follow some of the suggestions that I've given you, you'll find your perfect match," said Jeff seeming anxious to leave his friend to himself. "I see," said Wayne. "So, if I make all of those changes to my life to get a woman, I'll may even get my dream woman?" "Yes. Being that I think I know what women want and by having shared my dating advice with you, you should be more able to find someone," said Jeff. "I'm willing to do whatever I have to do," said Wayne smiling to show his positivity and swelling out his chest to show his confidence while shaking his friend's hand. "Only, as soon as you leave me," he said with his face changing from happiness to sadness, "I know that I'll return to my old ways. I just know I will," he said looking at his friend with helplessness. "Just follow my advice buddy and you won't go wrong. Write it down if you have to but I think you'll be okay," said Jeff. "Can you help me more than just giving me advice and suggestions? I really need you to take me by the hand to show me how I can take control of my life. I need to be more like you," said Wayne pathetically. Jeff looked at his friend before looking at his watch. "Sure. C'mon," said Jeff looking at his watch again. "I don't have any plans today. First things first. Let's buy you some new clothes and then we'll buy you a new car. In the meantime, we'll discuss how better to treat a woman and how to be more positive" said Jeff escorting his friend into a Ralph Lauren Polo outlet. "I've never shopped here before. I've been buying all of my clothes at Wal-Mart and the Goodwill outlet," said Wayne walking in the store as if he was walking in an exclusive store for millionaires. "I know. I can tell," said Jeff. "This store is nice but," said Wayne whispering. "It looks expensive." "It's as not expensive as you think it is Wayne. Certainly it's much more expensive than Wal-Mart and the Goodwill stores but the quality is much better and the clothes will last much longer." "Is this where you buy your clothes?" Wayne looked at Jeff's colorful shirt and sharp trousers. "This is where I used to buy my clothes. I shop at more upscale stores now," said Jeff. "So," said Wayne looking at his friend as if his friend was Master Po and he was Grasshopper. "Why did you bring me here instead of Kohl's or Target?" "Why? A couple of reasons why Wayne. The quality here is much higher than Kohl's and Target. Also, I love this store because the prices are reasonable and, instead of clothes that are black, grey, navy blue, and brown, they have lots of color selections. In the way that animals and birds do, if you want to attract a woman, you need to put on your peacock," said Jeff with a laugh. "Colorful clothes will make a woman look at you twice. Color clothes will make a woman notice you." "Got it," said Wayne. "In trying to hide my extra pounds," said Wayne grabbing a handful of his flab. "The only colors that I've been wearing are black, dark brown, and navy blue. When I wear my white shirt with black pants and black jacket, I look more like an orca whale than I do a player." "You can't be afraid to wear color Wayne. Color is your friend," said Jeff holding up a blue and green checked shirt. "These are your colors. They make your blue eyes pop. I'd stick with blues and greens if I were you. Then, later we'll sign you up for a gym membership. I know the perfect place that's loaded with guys who look more like you than musclebound gym rats." Wayne spent a couple of hours picking out new shirts, jackets, sweaters, pants, socks, and shoes. After they finished shopping at the store, they hit the car dealership. "You know Jeff, now that you mention me buying a new car, I've always wanted a new Honda," said Wayne. "Those new Civics are so sleek looking and they aren't that expensive," he said nodding his head as if to reiterate what he had just said. "Hondas are for family men. Unless you're looking to get married, you need to put your horse in the right race. Speaking of putting your horse in the right race, what you need is a hot car, a Mustang GT convertible. Here's Ford dealership. Pull in here," said Jeff. "Wow. A Mustang GT convertible. Really? I never owned a Mustang before. I never owned a convertible. I never even considered such a hot car. Is that the kind of car that you drive, a Mustang GT?" "No, actually," said Jeff seeming suddenly appearing uncomfortable. "I drive a Bentley Continental GT." "A Bentley. Seriously?" Wayne looked at Jeff as if he was joking before obviously realizing that he wasn't. "Wow! Way out of my budget, those cars cost a million bucks." "Actually, my car was less than three hundred thousand dollars," said Wayne with pride that, no doubt, he could afford such a fine car. "Go ahead. Walk around, look at the cars, sit in them, while visualizing yourself sitting behind the wheel and driving the car," said Jeff waving off a salesman to give his friend more time to shop without being pressure to buy. "What about this red one Jeff. I like this one," said Wayne. "Now this is a hot car that will surely attract some female attention," said Wayne running his hand down the fender as if he was fondling a woman." "No. Red sends the wrong message. Red makes you appear as if you never outgrew your youth or are trying to recapture your youth," said Wayne. "Hmm, I never thought about a red car in that way," said Wayne. "What about that yellow one? That's a hot car." "Yellow? No. There's a reason why animals have yellow on their skins. Yellow tells predators that there are poisonous to eat. Yellow is the wrong color for attracting women," said Wayne. "Trust me. Women will take the color as symbolism to think that you're poisonous." "Then what color? I don't see myself driving a white car or a black car and everyone has a silver car," said Wayne stopping in front of a white Mustang to consider the car. "What you want is a blue Mustang. I don't know a woman who doesn't like the color blue," said Jeff escorting Wayne down to a blue Mustang before waving over the salesman. "This is the car right here, a true, blue Mustang GT convertible. Go ahead and sit it in." "Holy shit. I like the car Jeff but," said Wayne whispering to his friend while reading the window sticker, "this one is forty big ones. Maybe I should buy a used one," said Wayne. "In the way that you hold onto a car, with the zero financing and the manufacturer's rebates that they're offering, you'll get a better deal buying new," said Jeff. "Besides the last time you bought a new car was when Bush was in office during his first term. Car prices have gone way up along with everything else. I bet you haven't spent a dollar of the inheritance you got from your Dad when he died." "I've been investing," said Wayne looking sheepishly chagrinned before agreeing with his friend. "You're right. It's time I spent some money." Wayne bought the blue, Mustang GT convertible. To be continued...