Mrs. John Heat: The Diaries of Wanda Casey

By Misty Rampart

Desperate and disconnected, we meet our heroine Wanda Casey: a successful woman in her mid-30’s who has established few roots and had fewer real influences. Feeling that she is somehow lacking, she embarks on an erotic journey seeking something – someone to call her own – and in the struggle for self-definition becomes addicted to the heat: the power of her carnal desires – a fire that seemingly can’t be extinguished.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Misty Rampart
• Release date: Apr 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310398704

Misty Rampart

Misty Rampart is the author of Lady Lack: Poems and Mrs. John Heat, a novel, both available on Amazon.com. She is the ringleader at the erotic blog http://pinklitter.blogspot.com. She can be reached at [e-mail] you download any of my books please consider writing a review. Thank you. :)

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Mrs. John Heat

The Diaries of Wanda Casey

by Misty Rampart

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to the persons or locations is purely coincidental and unintentional.

Mrs. John Heat: The Diaries of Wanda Casey ©2014 Misty Rampart.

All Rights Reserved.

Smashwords Edition

Four Play

April 22

I felt compelled to take the three of them and try to love them all equally, like some superhuman beast, better than an angel, lower than the lowest demon. How they all stood like eager fishes jumping out of the sea!

I did so many miracles that day – I should be canonized a saint, but somehow lower and at the same time higher. Like water into wine I made soft things hard. Resembling rough dogs, they fell on my face and breasts kissing, rubbing, pulling, tugging, smoothing, prodding…I don’t even remember seeing their faces – but I remember their taught waists, teeming cocks and powerful thighs. Their tongues I can’t forget…

*

A woman worth her salt never finds herself in a situation she can’t handle – not by accident anyway. Now I’m all about control and even in a situation where the drinks are flowing I always make sure to never get out of control – unless, of course, I want to…

So it may come as no surprise that after a long work week I went to the local bar with some coworkers. There were five of us, me, three guys and Janis Chambers, another woman who works for us as a paralegal. Let’s just say it had been a stressful week and I really wanted to blow off some steam. This is just what you do, I thought, simple, innocuous fun with your fellow employees. We all had the common bond of fighting the good fight but unlike most, I imagined, we had little to complain about, we’d just landed a huge account and we all worked for the most darling of a man, Mr. Edmund Blair, or as we affectionately called him, Eddie.

While at the time it seemed like a very insignificant and casual event, it would prove to be a fateful night, one that would send this girl in an unknown direction. In retrospect, there was a lot going on leading up to this. I started to feel, as a 35, still single, attractive woman that I was doing something wrong. Age 40 was on the not-so-distant horizon and I couldn’t bear it breathing down my neck. I was in my prime, yet nothing in my life every seemed to stick: relationships mainly, which is really everything. No matter how successful you are on the outside, if you have no real close friends or a tight family, it’s hard to call your life a success. Don’t get me wrong, mom and dad were wonderful, loving parents, but as an only child I guess I always felt a little isolated.

On one hand I tended to play by the rules, believed what people told me and did what I was supposed to do, and on the other hand it seemed like there was always something missing, meaning perhaps, or maybe it was intimacy. At this point in my life some excitement would sure as hell be a welcome change to what seemed like a dull and uneventful series of years, years which passed with ever-increasing speed. What had I done wrong? I wondered. Almost all the women that I had grown up with were married and had kids, and while I didn’t really believe that this was a conscious goal of mine, I did feel like it was something that was natural and would just happen on its own. The men that I had been with were more or less OK (if you didn’t believe much of what they said) yet it just never seemed to really gel between they and me. My last relationship lasted about four years and while there was talk of marriage, he never really asked and deep down I didn’t want him to.

I grew up in the California Desert and found myself newly away from home, having moved about six months ago to Phoenix – not too far but still out of place here in Arizona. I had taken a job as the Director for Investor Relations for a commercial real estate firm. Not a bad sounding title or job – basically I had to give presentations and look nice, which I could pull off. Not that I was running away from my previous environment, but at the same time I had needed a fresh start. I did everything in small steps so moving to the next state over was more my speed, as opposed to moving cross-country or even overseas.

I guess you could call me a misfit – assuming that I cared about fitting in, but here in this bar it became more apparent, outside of the office, how different and quirky we all really were. I guess work makes us all seem a little strange, the different types of people it throws together in the mix, all trying to work toward the same goal, all while looking out for number one. Take the three guys that were with us: Richard Hawkins: Senior Account Manager, a dry but not overly shy man of few words, Simon Austin: a young, cute IT guy, just starting out in the real world, and Shawn Barber, Loan Officer, a smooth talking black man that could get anything he wanted if he asked. Here were the five of us – an odd but not uncomfortable number.

In short order I felt myself getting a little buzzed and in a peculiar instant for some reason I thought that’s more than one for each of us assuming that Janis and I were some kind of female team – an outnumbered team. And where did I get that from? Perhaps it was because we sat on one side of the booth while the men crowded on the other side. But it was plain to see that Janis wasn’t thinking of us as a team, she was clearly interested in one man, Richard Hawkins. Her attention rarely diverted from him and whatever he was saying or doing. He was quite the gentleman and didn’t abuse his obvious power in the situation.

What was I saying about misfits? Well as the night wore on I felt much more relaxed. Even normally stoic Janis cracked a smile. I could tell she was seriously infatuated with Richard but that for some reason she wanted to deny herself by not making any overt advances toward him. She must have lacked some confidence and so I could feel she was all twisted up inside. Not that I could blame her for liking Richard, but the two of them together? I really wasn’t in any position to say who was or who wasn’t someone else’s type, but the two of them didn’t seem like a match. Listen to me of all people playing matchmaker I thought.

We all had a good time but Janis said at one point that she had to go home. I imagine she wanted to ask Richard home with her but was too afraid to ask and decided to run away rather than take a chance. Looking back I should have been a friend – or at least had the decency as a fellow human being – to encourage her, even help her. But it turned out that I wasn’t thinking of anyone but myself at the moment.

You’re not going to leave me here all alone with these three animals? I said jokingly.

You can handle it, she said, almost with a tint of some kind of judgment. Perhaps I was the prettier, more gregarious girl in this situation but it wasn’t a role I was used to. I thought I was a down to earth person, certainly not conceited. Anyway, I didn’t know exactly how to take it. The way she said it was kind of barbed. What was that supposed to mean anyway, ‘I can handle it?’ Handle what? I laughed it off and figured who needed her sour puss around anyway?

It turns out I was really just waiting for her to leave. I wanted them all