8 Mile

He seemed to be squeezing and cupping my ass cheeks and trying to pull them apart in the name of getting a few millimeters further inside of me. I have no idea why. I was sure the tip of his dick had already reached into my chest... Or maybe that was just my heart beating faster and harder than ever before.

"Ugh ...Mgoobah,.. Too gug!" He wasn't making any kind of God damned sense."

"Mgnnuh cmmmm!" I got that one and kept pumping my hips towards him as I waited for the flood.

It was as hot as the sun on an August afternoon, and it felt like a tidal wave. Realistically, I know there wasn't very much of it. But it felt like gallons of it. And it sent me over the edge again.

I screamed and scraped my hands down his sides and back. I locked my legs tightly behind him to keep him from pulling out of me. Maybe the fact that we fit so tightly together that there was no room for anything except his dick in my pussy explains why our few uncoordinated spasms and thrashing movements sent his sperm squishing back out of my pussy.

It was all over our loins. It took a few moments for things to make sense to me again. The first thing I was actually conscious of was our heartbeats. As they slowed back to normal, they seemed to be almost in synch. So was our breathing.

For a long time, we just laid there in each other's arms. We were both too spent to move. I had thought that the previous night had been a fluke. I'd chalked it up as one of those magical first times that could never be repeated or matched.

That was the real reason that I'd wanted him to forget about it. But I realized in that moment that it was just us. What we had done was a first for me. It was the first time in my life that I had totally given myself body and soul to a man who did the same.

We had connected on a level that was beyond just physical, although the physical parts of it were awesome. Alan, whether he knew it or not, was mine. And I was his. I would never lie to him again. I grew out of the stupid games. At almost fifty years old, suddenly everything clicked.

I saw my entire life pass in front of my eyes as I lay there in that rapidly cooling puddle of our mixed fluids. I felt his arms around me and our still entwined legs, and I refused to move.

He pulled the comforter over us, and we drifted off to sleep in that position as visions of my prior stupidity danced through my head.

* * * * * *

Alan

I awoke the next morning to a new world. I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my back. My right arm had that pins and needles feeling that comes from restricted blood flow. Wrapped in my arms was a hundred pounds of red hair and fury.

Her left arm was reaching behind her even in sleep to hold me against her. Her right arm was entwined with mine. She had a satisfied little smile on her face even in sleep.

As I looked at her, I realized that I had problem. Over the last thirty-six hours, she had simply taken over my life. More than two years of moping over a woman I had loved for most of my life, had been erased almost casually.

Whatever feelings I had for Sharon were like deleted data on a computer. They were still there, but I could no longer access them. They would soon be over-written by new experiences.

What made it a problem was the fact that Betty didn't feel the same way I did. To her, what we had was an exchange, nothing more. It was a deal we made to get her out of the cold.

However, it was so much more to me. To me, it was a new chance to be happy. A chance for a fresh start. And I would do anything I had to do to keep her with me.

I knew an easy way of doing that. I had money saved up and several credit cards with low balances. I intended to take Betty shopping and buy her all of the clothes and things that she needed. I intended to double or triple how much she owed me. It would be more than worth it to keep her with me.

I had no idea what Betty wanted to do with her life, but she was mine. I had to make sure to keep things on a seemingly professional level. Women are simply untrustworthy, and they play so many games.

Sharon was like that. I never had a clue of what was going on until I stumbled in on it and caught her. Despite my feelings for her, there was no way I'd be made a fool of twice. I had to play a game of my own and keep Betty at arm's length.

She yawned in her sleep and stretched out her tiny arms. One of them brushed my rapidly inflating dick, and a smile crossed her lips.

I pulled my arm from under her, and she rolled onto her back. As she rolled over her legs spread and her hips pumped. It looked like an invitation to me, but I wasn't sure.

I got between her legs and heard her giggle. Those green eyes popped open then. "Took ya long enough," she said.

It took us another hour to get to the shower. We started on breakfast even though it was lunch time.

"We have to eat quickly," I said.

"It's not how fast you eat," she said. "It's how well you eat fast."

I just looked at her and smiled.

"Are you in a hurry to get back to bed?" she asked. She had a smile like the cat that just swallowed a canary.

"Are you?" I asked. She just nodded quickly.

"You're in a real hurry to pay me off aren't you?" the smile dimmed a bit.

"I hate owing anybody anything," she said. "The quicker I pay you off the better."

"So you're saying that if I wanted to, I could have you more than once a day?" I asked.

"Yes, you dirty old man," she smiled again. "You can have as much as I can stand. All you have to say is "I want," but remember I'm keeping track."

"Well actually, I was in a hurry to get to the mall," I said.

Unbelievably, she looked disappointed. "Ohh," she said. "Why do you have to go to the mall?"

"WE'RE going to the mall, remember?" I asked. "We have to get some clothes for you. You have to have nice clothes to wear if you're going to be my employee.

"You mean I have to dress nice to be your fake wife?" she asked.

"Whatever," I said.

"Exactly," she smirked.

A short time later, we were at the mall. Betty looked around the place as if she owned it. I let her have her fun. We bought two more pair of jeans before I reigned her in.

"Betty, uhm you need some pants made out of something other than denim," I said. "You need some skirts and a couple of everyday dresses wouldn't hurt. You also need a really kick ass get dressed up outfit for when we go out."

She looked at me like I was crazy.

"You need a couple of sets of sleepwear, more regular underwear and some dress up underwear too."

"You just want to see me in something skimpy; you pervert," she gushed. The sales girl behind the counter almost died laughing.

"Betty you know I think you're beautiful in anything you wear. But you need a dressy coat and an everyday jacket of your own."

"My pussy will be worn out trying to pay for all of that," she said, horrifying the sales girl. "Besides this is my everyday jacket. It was free."

"It doesn't fit you," I said.

"You're not getting it back," she hissed. Her green eyes flashed, and her shoulders hunched. A second later, she was calm again.

"Sorry," she said squeezing my hand. "The red hair that you seem to like so much... Except when it's on my... " She looked around. "You know where... Anyway; the hair comes with a temper."

"Betty, I just want everyone to see how beautiful you are," I said.

"But you're the only one that matters," she said. "You're my..."

"Boss," I interjected. "So what I say goes."

"We're gonna have to do a lot of fucking to pay for all of this," she smirked.

"You only have to worry about half of it," I said. She looked at me like I was crazy.

"Of course, course I'm half of it," she said. "If I wasn't involved you'd just be jacking off!"

Betty grumbled with each new purchase, but I caught her smiling several times too. She liked the way she looked in the full-length mirror.

"We'd better get it a half size bigger," she said.

"But it's perfect," I whined. "It's supposed to be tight."

"Alan, right now I'm still half starved and dehydrated. If you keep feeding me the way you are now, I'm gonna fill out. My tits aren't gonna get much bigger but my ass and legs will."

I was smiling just imagining it.

"I don't want my ass to split this beautiful dress," she said.

So we got the dress in a bigger size so it would fit her when she ballooned up to her normal hundred and twelve pounds.

The next few days were fun. My fake wife and I got along great. The weirdest thing was Monday morning when I woke up to go to work.

First, I had a rough time extracting the arm she'd claimed to wrap around her. Once she noticed that I was up so was she.

"Where are we going this time?" she asked.

"I'm going to work," I said. "You should get some sleep. You look like you were... Rode hard and put away wet."

"You should know," she grumbled. "You're the one who rides me. You're always hard, and I'm always wet."

I laughed at that. "So where do I go?" she asked. "What do I do? Where do I meet you when you're done?"

"Betty get back in bed; you're delirious," I said.

"You're gonna trust me in your house by myself?" she asked.

"You're supposed to be pretending to be my wife aren't you?" I asked. She nodded her head and at least a ton of curly red waves moved up and down with each nod. "So you have to pretend that this is OUR home, not mine. Go back to bed."

"I can't sleep without you," she grumbled. "I'll make you breakfast."

"No time," I said. "I stayed in bed too long."

"How'd that happen?" she giggled. "You seem like 'Mr. Organized."

"I was awake, but I was holding onto something that felt too good to let go of," I said.

"Oooh," she said. "You don't have to flatter me to get me in bed. You're paying me."

She wiped her eyes and jumped into the shower while I dressed.

"I need your phone number, so I can call you to ask you stuff," she said.

By lunchtime, I wished I hadn't given it to her. Betty called me sixteen times that day. Betty and the department secretary were on a first-name basis by mid-morning.

When I got home, I got the real surprise. The house, somehow, changed. It not only looked cleaner, it smelled cleaner. For the past couple of years, my half assed cleaning had kept the house relatively decent, but in one day, Betty had made it really sparkle.

Over the next few weeks the two of us bonded, we spent Thanksgiving alone together. I helped Betty get a copy of her birth certificate and from there we got her driver's license. I told her it was so she could do the shopping, but I think she knew; I wanted her to be able to go anywhere and do anything.

There were things that I loved about Betty. She kept the house cleaner than it had EVER been, and she never complained about it. She seemed to love the house as much as I did. She was also a great cook. That's not to say that there weren't some burnt roasts or some undercooked meat loafs along the way, but she got it right at least 90 percent of the time.

She also always seemed to be smiling at me. That did worry me a bit, because it was as if she had some secret joke that only she knew about, and I was the punch line.

I was very sure that as soon as her debt was paid off, she'd be gone. She'd give me no warning. I would just come home one day to an empty house and Betty, all of the stuff I'd bought her, a lot of my things and probably one of my cars would be gone.

Sometimes, I even thought it sounded like one of those TV movies where Betty would wake me up early and fuck the cowboy shit out of me before I went to work. She would send me off to the engineering salt mines with a swat on the ass and a promise of a big surprise when I got home.

All day long, I'd think about that promise. I'd get it in my mind that it was something very special and I'd come home to a surprise alright. Not only would Betty be gone, but my house would look like locusts hit it. Everything would be gone.

Betty would be gone; all of her things would be gone, and all of MY things would be gone. Every stick of furniture in the house and all of the appliances would be gone. My cars would be gone. All of my tools would be gone. Anything that could possibly be sold including the metal gutters, and pipes would be stripped from the house.

And the thing... The one thing I'd want back out of all of them would be Betty.

Even when I woke up the next morning after sleeping on a bare wood floor and found a moving van and a buck-toothed family from Pawtucket who swore Betty had sold them my house, I'd want her back.

So I knew something was going on, I was just waiting for the hammer to fall.

One thing that was odd about us was that we never kissed. Don't get me wrong, Betty was the woman you dream of when it comes to sex. Remember when she told me that all I had to say was, "I want?" She wasn't lying.

We've had a lot of very memorable nights in our bed, but there were also times when things just got out of hand unexpectedly.

One that I will remember to my dying day was a time that I came home from work, and Betty was in the kitchen. That long beautiful red hair was tied up in a ponytail. She had on one of my T-shirts for some reason, and a pair of those tiny little half socks that women wear.

I later found out that she'd been doing one of those yoga workouts on one of our cable channels and had stopped to get dinner ready.

So there she was working on our dinner, and I came up behind her. I wrapped my arms around her and started nibbling her neck, while I gently squeezed her boobs.

"I want," I breathed into her ear. I was actually joking. I expected her to say, "Wait until I get dinner in the oven, and we'll have a quickie."

"Wait," she said. Before I could tell her that I was only kidding, she bent forward, reached under the t-shirt, and dropped her panties on the floor. She stood back up and put my hands back on her boobs and bumped her ass against me. "Okay, Baby," she said.

I was suddenly hard as a rock. I wasted no time putting my hard place in her. I took her from behind while we stood there at the kitchen counter. Once I penetrated her fully, I literally had to hold her up because her feet didn't touch the ground due to our height difference.

It was very intense but not very fast. She molded herself to me, reaching behind her to pull me into her. I continued sucking on her neck and squeezing those soft and succulent boobs.

I don't think I have ever come that much in my life. I had no control over when it came out. I had no chance to hold it back. And at the same time that I lost it, I felt Betty's already tight pussy clutching and spasming. Neither one of us said a single word up to that point.

A single syllable escaped Betty's mouth, "Ohhh!" she said. Then she collapsed back onto me, so she was leaning against me. She turned the neck that I had just sucked on so hard that I left a mark and looked into my eyes. That same scary assed little smile was there.

I should have kissed her then. There are so many times that I should have kissed her. But that smile threw me off. And like Sherlock Holmes, I knew the game was afoot. Besides, the sound of clapping shocked the shit out of me.

I turned to find my seventy-year-old next-door neighbor smiling and staring at us. Betty had invited her over for dinner. They did yoga together.

"That was awesome," said Martha grinning at us. "If I was twenty years younger, I would have jumped in with you."

I looked at Betty in shock. She was smiling at me. Her entire demeanor told me that this had been MY fault not hers. "You said, "I want," she told me.

"Remember our deal," she said. "If you say, "I want," then, "I give."

"But what if we're in the supermarket or church?" I asked.

"It's like a gun," she said. "You have to be responsible with it, or it'll get us into trouble."

And she wasn't lying either. It sometimes scared the shit out of me how willing Betty was. She was completely different from Sharon. Sharon, well being with Betty made me see that Sharon wasn't the woman I'd always thought she was.

Sharon made me think of eighties songs when it came to sex. Like Pat Benatar sang; Sharon used Sex as a weapon. Another way of putting it was that Sharon gave me sex when it got her something. If there was something I didn't want to do then like J.J. Fad rapped about in "Supersonic," she "rationed out the juice," until I gave in.

Thinking back on it, it just seems bizarre that the homeless woman I'm paying to clean my house could give herself to me so completely, while the woman I married and planned on spending my life with played such stupid fucking games.

Games; that was the word. And more and more I knew that for the sake of my own well being, I could never tell Betty how I really felt about her. I mean I knew that sooner or later; I'd come home to that empty house from my fantasy. And I knew that it would probably not be anywhere near as dramatic as I fantasized about, but if and by "IF," I mean "When" Betty left me, it would kill me.

So I couldn't give her that last piece of my soul. God knows she already had the rest of it. But telling Betty that I loved her would have somehow made it even worse WHEN she disappeared.

Betty not only fit seamlessly into my life, she enhanced it. She met, befriended and bedazzled most of the women in the neighborhood. She joined the block club and literally took it over.

There was some kind of special election held at my house during which the current president, Marilyn, naturally, was voted out in absentia.

Betty and her new friends then began planning our neighborhood's winter festival. They changed the date to one that the other women in the neighborhood found more useful than the date Marilyn always chose.

Betty wanted the festival held during the same time period that the local schools had for their midwinter break. That way the neighborhood moms could both attend and watch their kids at the same time.

Marilyn had always preferred a time when she herself was free. Marilyn descended on my doorstep, so angry she could spit nails, only to have them spit right back at her.

Marilyn ended up calling the police.

When the officers got there and found out that no blows had been struck, and it was a block club argument he asked them one question.

"Which one of you ladies lives here," he asked.

"I do," said Betty proudly.

"You have a nice home, Ma'am," he said. "Stay in it."

He turned to Marilyn. "You...Go home!"

"But I'm the president of the block club," whined Marilyn.

"They voted you out," said the cop. "Get over it. It's a God damned block club, for heaven's sake. It's not Congress. Jeezus Lady."

My relationship with Marilyn was never the same. I later found out that it had never been what I'd thought from the beginning.

Betty was also a huge hit at my job. When I asked her if she would go to my company's holiday dinner with me, her jaw dropped and her eyes went dim.

"Me," she asked. I just nodded. "But I ..."

"We'll buy you whatever you need," I said.

From the moment I stepped into the hall, my coworkers were captivated by Betty. She was beautiful. But she was the kind of woman that men all looked at with lust on their minds. But she was so friendly and down to earth that the women liked her too.

Definitely an upgrade over Sharon, my boss told me.

Her dress fit her sculptured curves like a second skin. Throughout the evening, women kept coming over to her and whispering something to her. Her replies always had them laughing and shaking their heads. They always looked at me strangely afterwards.

We danced after dinner, and it was good. Betty felt so good in my arms that we stayed on the floor for most of the night.

We danced every dance together. Betty had a way of putting people off so good naturedly that no one minded.