tagNovels and NovellasReturn To Pleasant Street Ch. 09

Return To Pleasant Street Ch. 09

byD.C. Roi©

BETSEY AND BILL

I'm going to tell you about a couple who live down the street from me, someone I didn't mention in my last collection of stories about Pleasant Street. They're married now, but the story starts three years ago, when Betsey Marcus and her husband, Ray, bought the little house next door to Bill Ingalls' house. Almost from the start, I could see they were a couple in trouble, and, about a year after they moved in, Ray took off. I'd met both Betsey and Ray by that time, and figured she was going to be better off without him anyhow.

What I didn't know, until much later, was that their neighbor, Bill Ingalls, who's a widower, had developed a crush on Betsey. And, after Ray left, things kind of heated up between the Betsey and Bill, and eventually, they got married.

I've heard some things, and I think the following story tells the tale of how Bill and Betsey got together.


BETSEY AND BILL

I.


Betsey Marcus felt her husband, Ray, slide across their bed, then his body pressed against her. His hand slid down her side and wrapped around one of her breasts through her nightgown. Betsey could feel warmth begin to spread through her.

"Finally!" she thought, as excitement flooded through her, "Tonight it's going to happen!" Ray was making love to her! Her nipple stiffened in response to her husband's caress. Desire, which had been smoldering in her for weeks, began to flare into burning need.

Betsey was glad Ray was showing some interest in making love. She'd needed him for so long! Their love life had been dormant for months, and she was getting more and more desperate. She wished Ray wanted her as much as he had when they first were married.

She was surprised how quickly Ray was getting her turned on, but she shouldn't have been. She'd been without loving for so long, nothing could have kept her husband's caresses from exciting her.

Betsey felt Ray's swollen penis pressing against her bottom and knew her husband was

turned on, too. Maybe tonight they would start making an improvement in their marriage. Her husband's hands continued to move over her and she shuddered, anticipating delights yet to come.

After caressing her breasts for a few minutes, Ray rolled Betsey onto her back, tugged up her nightgown, and his hand slid across her belly.

Ray cupped Betsey's vagina and she gasped when one of his fingers probed into her wet opening. Her body bucked upward, responding spontaneously to the delicious caress.

"Yes! Oh, yes, Ray!" Betsey groaned. Her hips began undulating in reaction to his thrusting finger. "That feels so good! Oh! Oh...Ray! Yessss! Oh..God...Yessss! You're getting me there!"

After teasing her with his finger for a while, Ray rolled between her legs and fumbled his erect cock out of his pajamas. Guiding it with his hand, he drove it into her.

When her husband's stiff, hot wand entered her, thrills rippled through Betsey's hungering body. As her passion grew she felt her middle tightening, signalling the approach of her orgasm. "Yes!" She groaned urgently. "Take...me! Oh, Ray, yes! Take...me! I'm...geting...there! I'm...I'm geting there!"

Ray's thrusts became more and more frantic. "Unh! Unh!" he grunted, stiffening, pressing his middle against her.

Betsey realized what was about to happen and was flooded by dismay. "No! Not yet! Please! Ray! No! Not yet!" she cried. He was going to come and she wasn't ready yet! If he could just keep going a few minutes more, she'd be there, too.

Betsey's cries were to no avail. Ray's hot sperm was already jetting into her. After a few moments, his movements stopped and she felt her husband's penis begin to soften. She couldn't stand it! She needed more! All it would take was just a few more thrusts!

"Please! Ray! Please!" Betsey murmured, hoping, somehow, she could get Ray to continue, to satisfy her. "Don't leave me hanging like this! Please!"

Her pleas were for naught. She felt Ray's limp penis slide from her, then he rolled off her, onto the bed, and turned his back to her.

Betsey, desperate, continued to plead with him. "Please, Ray, don't do this to me!" she moaned. "Please, honey! I need to come!"

Ray didn't even bother to turn and face her. "What the fuck am I supposed to do about it?" he retorted.

"Please, Ray! I need to come. I need it so..." Betsey murmured. It was so degrading, having to beg him for satisfaction, but she was desperate.

"Dammit!" Ray snapped. "I don't know what the fuck you expect from me! I done my thing. You ever think, maybe, there's something wrong with a woman who can't get off when her husband fucks hell out of her?"

Ray's words lashed Betsey like a whip. Was she lacking? Was that the problem? She body ached with need. She couldn't remember the last time she had an orgasm! She used to have one almost every time they made love but, in the last few months, they'd been few and far between. She couldn't recall the last time Ray's love-making -- if you could call what he did love-making -- satisfied her.

"Please! Please, Ray! Can't we try and make love again!" she implored.

"Get off my fucking case! her husband snapped. He got out of bed and stomped toward the bedroom door.

Betsey was surprised when her husband got out of bed. "Ray! W...where are you going?" she asked.

"Downstairs!" he snapped over his shoulder. "I'm gonna sleep on the fucking sofa. I gotta get some sleep, and I don't want any more of your shit!" He stormed out, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

Betsey heard his heavy footfalls as he went down the stairs, then the house got silent. She lay alone in their bed, stunned, her body still filled with hunger, tears running down her cheeks.

"Could...could he be...be right?" she wondered. "Is...is there something wrong with me?"

Betsey was twenty-two years old, stood just a whisper over five feet tall and weighed just under a hundred pounds, which meant she had a very slim, youthful shape. She had lean, softly-rounded, pert, tiny breasts. Her face was more interesting than gorgeous, and along with most of her body, was covered with a wild spray of freckles. Her large brown expressive eyes combined with long, straight flame-red hair to make her look quite stunning.

Betsey lifted her nightgown over her head, dropped it to the floor, then she examined her nude body. "I don't think I look that bad," she thought. "I probably could stand to gain a couple of pounds, but it could be worse, I could be fifty pounds overweight."

The one part of her anatomy she wasn't happy with was her breasts. "I wish they were bigger," she mused, cupping them in her hands and lifting them to examine them. When she did, a thrill sped through her. Her nipples began expanding, emerging from the dark circles capping the tips of her breasts.

"Oh, Lord!" she realized, as self-induced need swirled through her mind, "I...I'm turning myself on! God! This feels good! Is this what I have to do? Do I have to satisfy myself?" She rubbed her thumbs over her extending nipples, an action that caused a sudden burst of delight to sweep through her.

"Yes!" Betsey thought. "Oh! That does feel nice!" She continued to caress herself and her arousal increased. "I...I don't care. If this is what I have to do to come, I'll do it! Damn him! Damn Ray!"

She walked back to her bed, laid down, pulled up her legs, parted her knees and began sliding her hands up and down her inner thighs. She'd never realized before how silky the skin there was, touching it really felt neat! As her auto-erotic activities continued, her hips began rhythmic passion-induced movements. She touched her vagina and felt a wave of delight wash over her. She realized her middle was soaked with lubricating fluids produced by her overheated body!

Her trembling fingers parted her soft lips and one slim finger slid slowly her yearning opening. It felt so sensational her hips rose off the bed. Her other hand found her clit, touched it, and her reaction was so intense she almost fainted with blissfulness.

"This...ah...really feels...ah...fantastic!" Betsey thought as her hands frantically caressed her middle. Her hips rose and fell and her chest heaved as she gasped for breath, in thrall to the joy her hands were giving her. "I...I'm gonna make it! I...Oh!...I really...Ah!...am! Yes! Yes! Oh! Oh, God...Oh, God...Oh, God! Yes!" she moaned as, finally, she had the orgasm she so desperately needed.

Slowly the wonderful sensations began to wane. Her hands remained clutched in her vagina while her legs dropped limp on the bed.

"I guess that's what I'll have to do," Betsey thought as she lay there, still tingling, in the aftermath of her self-induced orgasm. "I guess I'll have to take care of myself if Ray isn't going to take care of me."

She turned out the light next to the bed, pulled up the covers and, satisfied for the first time in a long time, fell sound asleep.

II.

When Betsey came downstairs in the morning, she found that her husband, Ray, had already left. A note lay on the sofa. She walked over, picked it up, and felt pain as she read what it said:

"I'm outta here, I ain't gonna put up with any of your shit any more. If you ain't happy with what I got to give you, there's lots of other chicks out there who are. Have a good life, bitch."

"He...he's left me..." she thought. "What..what am...am I going to do? How...how am I going to get by?"

Actually, money wasn't going to be that big a problem for her. She'd bought the house they lived in with money she'd inherited from her grandmother. It was paid for and, thankfully, in her name. Taxes weren't too high, and the money she earned working in a large chain department store would more than cover Betsey's living expenses.

She re-read the cruel note her husband had left, as if trying to convince herself it was real. "What...what does he mean there are women who want what he has to offer?" she mused. "How...how does he...does he know?"

Although she was near tears, Betsey made herself coffee, then she took a shower and got dressed. She wished she didn't have to go to work today, but with Ray gone, she couldn't take a chance on losing her job.

When she arrived at the store and punched in, Toni Wicks, who was working at the service desk, looked at her. "Mr. Lewis wants to see you in the office before you start work," she said. "He said to have you go right in."

Wondering what her boss wanted, Betsey walked to the rear of the store where the manager's office was located and knocked on the door.

"Come in," a male voice said in response to her knock. Betsey opened the door and went in.

Mark Lewis, the store manager, was sitting at his desk. When he saw Betsey, standing in the doorway, he smiled. He thought she was among the most attractive of his employees, and had been trying to figure out how to get closer to her for some time. The other day, while sitting in the lunch room, he overheard some of the other female employees talking about Betsey, and the fact that her marriage wasn't doing well. When he heard that, Mark figured he might have the chance he was hoping for.

Unlike most of the women who worked in the store, who tended to wear slacks and casual clothing to work, Betsey always dressed very well. Today she a loose black mid-calf length dress with white flower pattern that had buttons all the way down the front. It had a scooped neck and wide bell sleeves and Mark thought it looked gorgeous on her lean form.

He gazed at her, captivated by the expanse of freckle-covered chest the dress displayed, and by her long, flaming hair. "I sure as hell would like to run my fingers through that hair," he thought as he sat at his desk, smiling at Betsey, who looked a bit sad.

"Toni...she said you wanted to see me?" Betsey said.

"Yes, Betsey, I do," Mark told her.

Betsey looked at the manager. He wasn't bad-looking, actually, but there was an arrogance, a smugness, about him that made her not trust him. He was one of those guys who was sure how good-looking he was. And she'd heard rumors that he'd been having affairs with some of the other clerks, even though he was married.

"You look sad this morning, Betsey. Is something wrong?" Mark asked. He couldn't keep from staring at the slim leg clad in dark pantyhose which showed through the cut in front of Betsey's dress.

"Well..." Betsey said, not sure how much, if anything, she ought to tell him. "I...I have been having a few problems at home."

"I see," Mark said, nodding.

"I..I didn't...know it...it was affecting my work, though," she murmured. "Is...is that why you wanted to see me?"

"Oh, no," Mark said. "Not at all. You are one of our best employees. In fact..." He stood up and walked around in front of his desk. "If you really enjoy working here, I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a possibility of your being offered a management position when one opens up."

"Really?" Betsey asked, smiling a little for the first time that day. Maybe things weren't as bad as it looked like they were earlier in the day.

"You do like working here, don't you, Betsey?" Mark asked.

Betsey nodded. "Very much so, Mr. Lewis," she replied. "I...I really need this job...and...and I like it, too." She wasn't sure what he was getting at, and was a little disturbed by the way he kept looking at her.

"Somebody did mention something about you having problems in your marriage," Mark said. "Is that true?"

Betsey wondered where he'd heard that. How could anyone know her husband had left her, it had just happened that morning. She was confused. "I...I'm separated," she murmured.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mark said. He began strolling slowly back and forth in front of his desk. Then he walked around behind Betsey and began caressing her hair.

Betsey inhaled, planning to say something. This wasn't right. She couldn't let this go on.

Before she could speak, Mark laid his hand on her shoulder. "Is...is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

Betsey almost jumped when her boss's hand came to rest on her shoulder. All of a sudden, she began to experience fear. This definitely didn't feel right. Mr. Lewis shouldn't be touching her and she shouldn't be allowing him to.

Mark felt Betsey shudder, and could feel how tense she was, but he left his hand where it was. This wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. He knew she'd come around. She didn't have any choice.

Betsey couldn't believe that Mr. Lewis would take a chance and make a pass at her, not there, in his office! She felt his hand slide over her shoulder and trail down her arm, and shuddered again. "What am I going to do?" she thought, her mind whirling. "He...he is making a pass at me!"

Her boss's hand slid down over Betsey's hips, and onto the outside of her leg. Her breath caught in her throat and, despite herself, she felt warmth rising in her. "Oh! Why does that have to feel so good?" she thought. Alarms sounded in Betsey's mind. This could get way out of hand. She had to stop him, now, before this went any farther. But...but what if she stopped him and he got angry? She could get fired, and she certainly wouldn't get any promotions.

Emboldened by Betsey's lack of resistance, Mark kept stroking her legs. He could feel her trembling and her breathing sounded a little ragged.

Betsey's mind whirled as she struggled to come up with some way of fending off her boss's advances without angering him. His other hand, caressing her legs, was starting to turn her on, which was the last thing she wanted. Why was her body responding like this?

Mark stopped talking. He could feel Betsey responding to his caresses and believed, based on his prior experiences with other women, that if he made the right moves, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted to her.

He realized Betsey's dress had a zipper down the back and unzipped it, hearing her sigh softly as he did. "You really are quite attractive, Betsey," he said softly as he began to trail his fingers lightly up and down her bared back.

"Ah..." Betsey murmured. She had no idea what to do, or say. She could hardly breathe and coherent thought was beyond her. Things had gotten way out of control.

"You're excited, aren't you, Betsey?" Mark asked softly, continuing to gently stroke her back.

"Uh-huh," Betsey murmured. Why was she letting him do this? Why wasn't she stopping him? Why did it have to feel so good?

"I can tell," Mark whispered. He slid his hands into her dress, around her sides, and cupped her breasts. He began rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, which were already hard and pressing through the gossamer fabric of her bra.

Betsey felt like there were electric shocks were going through her when Mr. Lewis grabbed her breasts and started to play with her nipples. She couldn't get her breath and felt like her legs weren't going to hold her up any more. "Ah!" she groaned, her body quaking.

Mark removed his hands from Betsey's breasts, took hold of the bra clasp, flicked it open, then his hands again slid around to the front of her, onto her bare flesh. He cupped her naked breasts and felt her rock-hard nipples pressing against his palms.

"Mmmmm!" Betsey moaned. She knew she should stop Mr. Lewis, but she couldn't!

Mark thrust one of his hands downward, insinuated it under the waist of her pantyhose and panties, then pushed down farther, until his hand was between her thighs. When he touched her vagina, he could feel the wetness and heat emanating from her core. He gently probed her sopping middle, seeking her clit.

"Gahhh!" Betsey groaned when Mr. Lewis began fondling her vagina. She knew this was wrong, but she couldn't stop him! And the terrible thing was that she wasn't sure she wanted him to stop, not as long as what he was doing felt as good as this did!

Mark felt Betsey's hips squirming; thrusting, obviously seeking more contact with him. He found her clit and flicked his finger over it. Betsey reacted with soft moans, sighs, and thrusts of her hips.

Betsey realized she was completely helpless at the hands of her boss. The situation was wonderfully out of control! If he kept on doing what he was doing, he would make her come with his hands, she was that turned on, that close!

"Oh! Oh!" Betsey groaned, writhing and shaking, as her boss's hands sent wave after wave of delight crashing over her. Then... "Ah! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ah! Ah!" she whimpered when an orgasm overwhelmed her. "Oh! Ohh! Ohhh!"

Mark felt the young woman stiffen, then she began to shudder violently, her moans grew louder, and he could feel the juices of love flooding out of her.

Betsey felt Mr. Lewis's hands leave her, then she staggered to his desk and leaned against it as her orgasm began to wind down. She still felt an occasional jolts of pleasure as she tried to gather her wits about her.

"I made you feel nice, now it's your turn," Mark said.

Betsey looked at him and saw him walking toward her, unzipping his pants. She felt herself growing weak. "No!" she thought, "Please! Don't! Haven't I been humiliated enough?"

Mark hefted his erection proudly. "I know you probably want this," he said smugly, "but there's no way we can do that here, so you'll have to take care if it with your mouth."

"No!" Betsey moaned.

"Yes! Go ahead, kiss it!" Mark ordered, his voice rough. "Kiss my cock."

Knowing she no longer had any choice in the matter, Betsey slid slowly to her knees and reached for him. Gripping his pole in her hand, she took it in her mouth and began licking. Betsey was repulsed by what he was making her do, but she didn't stop, she couldn't.

"That's it!" Mark groaned as her lips slid up and down his swollen shaft. "Ah! My God, Betsey, you're a helluva cocksucker! That's it!"

As Betsey continued to lick and suck Mr. Lewis's cock she could feel his legs begin to tremble and could feel the swollen shaft in her hand begin to pulse and twitch.

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