Ascending Lauren Ch. 11

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Lauren stood on the front lawn armed with hedge shears and grass clippers. She knew Corey simply didn't have time to keep up with the landscaping, but it was worse than imagined. The blue ivy was overgrown and the trees had sucker branches. She wiped her brow. It was unseasonably warm for Iowa that holiday weekend, already 75 degrees at noon. The humid air had prompted her to don nylon shorts and one of Corey's wife beaters. Only two days to whip this mess back into shape.

The presence of Zane's gray and chrome bike didn't escape her. Lauren remembered the boys had planned a fishing trip last night, so finding it in the driveway that morning came as no surprise. She stopped next to the expensive motorcycle on her way to the hedges and caressed the handlebars. A brief image of last night's dream flashed before her eyes, forcing a dreamy smile. That was definitely a weird one.

By the time Corey's truck came to a rattling stop in front of the house, most of the bushes had been trimmed and tree branches cut back. It wasn't until an odd silence followed did she look in that direction. It took her a moment to realize she was the cause of the strange quiet. No wonder, bent over the lilacs, her ass and legs had been on full display. Snickering, she turned and put her hands on her hips.

"It's about time you guys got back. Plenty of yard waste for you to pick up."

Corey and Zane stared at her shamelessly. The sweat she'd worked up had thoroughly soaked the wife beater and her small braless breasts were clearly visible through the material.

Lauren rolled her eyes. "Um, when you're done gawking can you guys help clean up?"

Corey looked at Zane and then back to his wife.

"Sure, babe. Maybe we can work something out. Can we talk?"

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"So let me get this straight," Lauren pointed at Zane. "You need a date to impress your grease monkey coworkers, and you," she waved her hand at Corey, "are okay with me doing just that?"

"We'll, it's one way to get the yard picked up," her husband joked nervously.

Lauren grabbed Corey's hand and pulled him into the garage.

"Where are you going with this?" she poked a finger into his chest.

"I just thought..."

"That I'd dress up all sexy like and go on a date with your best friend AND give his buddies a thrill?"

"I-I-I..."

"And, what? Maybe sleep with him too? Like our little roleplay last night? I told you that was pillow talk. He's your friend for God's sake!

Corey could see she was plenty upset. "I'm sorry, you're right. I was out of line asking you to even consider such a dumb plan. It was all me. I suggested it."

Lauren stood with her arms folded across her chest, a foot tapping the garage floor repeatedly. She looked over her husband's shoulder at Zane, who'd begun picking up some of the heavier branches from the lawn. As usual, a black tee-shirt clung to his massive chest and arms. As he leveraged strong legs to heave the limbs into the back of Corey's pickup, his blue jeans pulled taut across his crotch, revealing the fairly substantial package she always knew was there. The vague morning memory of the giant talking cock brought a smile, which she desperately tried to hide from Corey.

It would serve his ass right for cooking this shit up behind my back.

"Alright," Lauren said defiantly, "I'll go with him. Just remember, this was your idea." She grabbed a bottled water from the garage's refrigerator and ushered Corey back down the driveway towards his buddy.

Zane looked up and accepted the drink with misgiving. "Um, thanks, I think."

"Looks like you got yourself a date."

He could sense the animosity.

"Lauren, really, I didn't..."

"Relax, I know this isn't your brainchild. So, what time do we leave? I'm living out of a suitcase here. I'll need to go the mall and look for a dress."

Zane tilted his head. "Dress?"

"For the banquet."

He had to laugh. "Lauren, this isn't a prom. It's a bunch of bike enthusiasts and mechanics getting together to blow off steam. The awards are just an excuse. Besides, Bessy's toting us there. Best to wear denim or leather. The cruiser's comfortable, but this time of year an hour ride's going to get chilly."

She glanced at the motorcycle. Of course he's riding Bessy.

"Okaaaay, so what does one wear to this ceremony then?"

Zane pulled out his phone and showed her pics of his wife Abby before they split up. She was posing with another girl next to a row of bikes at a recent rally. Leather, leather, leather. The photographs were very well composed.

"I thought you didn't like photography?" Corey asked, amused.

His friend shot him an impish grin. "I do when the subject's right, bro."

Lauren studied the photos. She nodded, her mind mentally inventorying the clothing she'd brought with her. The nearest thing she had to leather pants was back in Miami. "What time?"

"Starts at seven, we leave at four. That'll give us time to hose the bugs off us."

"Well then, I guess you boys better get this mess cleaned up. I've got some shopping to do."

With that, Lauren turned and walked briskly up the path to the front door. Corey watched as Zane's eyes followed her bouncing ass. He knew there was a very good chance his friend would be seeing that - and much more - naked tonight.

The conflicted husband shook his head. What have I done?

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Corey sat cross legged on the bed while Lauren worked her magic at the vanity. For over 25 years she'd sat in the exact same spot highlighting her beauty for him alone. Now, at his behest, she was primping for another man. His best friend at that. The reality of it all sunk in as she opened her makeup kit. This was no longer a secretive game played out of town with strangers. This was Des Moines, their hometown, where they had grown up, got married, and raised children. He watched his wife meticulously apply eyeshadow, liner and mascara just as she'd done a thousand times before. Only this time it was different. Much different.

After adding just the right shade of pink lipstick, Lauren rose and strolled over to where Corey rested nervously, ankles flinching. Next to him on the bed was a pair of black leather pants and a similar jacket found at a boutique shop in the next county. A very personable and heavily tattooed clerk knew exactly the look Lauren was after. "Glenda" also hooked her up with a strapless corset -- black leather, of course -- which fully zipped from bottom to top. Or, as Glenda pointed out, blue eyes darting over Lauren's body, unzipped from top to bottom, a decidedly better proposition.

Lauren's makeup robe fell from her shoulders, prompting Corey to run his watering eyes over her freshly showered body. Small breasts, still firm after all these years, yearned to be suckled, and the savory labia below was freshly shaved. Was this a sign? Lauren pulled on the skin-tight leathers, hoisting them up over her hips.

"Do you think I'll make an impression on Zane's friends?"

Corey nodded, swallowing hard. For the first time in a long time he was speechless.

Next came the corset. Lauren wrapped it around her braless chest and tan belly. "Can you help?" she asked, nodding at the silver front zipper.

Corey's hands trembled as he struggled to get it started. The shiny leather against her tan skin was quite distracting. Of course, she could have easily zipped the vest herself, but then where would the fun have been in that? Lauren's research clearly told her a husband should be involved in a date's preparation as much as possible. And wasn't this a date? Forget the reason and that the matchmaker was her husband. Tonight, she WAS supposed to be Zane's girlfriend for all intent and purposes - counterfeit or not. Whether this turned into something more than acting would certainly be game time providence.

After fumbling a bit, the befuddled husband successfully zipped the vest, watching it close tightly around her chiseled abs and 30b-cup breasts. Her small mounds looked like pliable oversized golf balls underneath the taut garment. Would the next hand on that zipper belong to his best friend?

Corey had to admit his wife had totally nailed the "chic biker chick" look. She could grace the cover of any motorsport magazine. I really should NOT be sending her off to a roadhouse looking like this. The guilt was tremendous. The arousal was more.

Lauren continued to dress. She pulled on a pair of crisscross leather stilettos brought from Miami and snapped on a silver cuff bracelet. Finally, Corey was handed a thin, black velvet choker with small metal rivets.

"Would you?" she asked, grinning. The effect this was having on him could not be underestimated and she was more than happy to deliver. Obediently he placed the choker around her delicate neck.

"Lauren, you look absolutely incredible."

"Ashley," Lauren corrected him, lowering the corset's zipper to just between her breasts. "But you can call me Ash."

"Sure, Ash," he said in jest, but no amount of joking could mask the man's apprehension at this point.

"What's the matter, babe?" she asked, damn well knowing the answer.

"Other than sending you on a date with my best friend and a bunch of bikers?"

"Bike enthusiasts, and I'm sure Zane will take good care of me. I don't think any of his friends are members of those outlaw clubs you hear about. They just like to ride. Besides, this is your idea. Not mine, not his. Yours."

Corey sighed. "I know, I'm just..."

"Having second thoughts?" Her hand went to his crotch, the waning sunlight reflecting off the silver bracelet. "Looks to me like you can't wait to jerk off. Will you be thinking of me partying with Zane and buddies in some dive bar? I'll be acting like his girlfriend in so many ways, babe. Does that make you jealous?" The bulge grew and pulsated. "Uh huh, I thought so."

Neither knew how the evening would end, but Zane could never know of Corey's complacency in the scheme. Which meant little to no communication between the couple overnight. Details would have to wait until morning. To that end, Lauren felt obligated to leave her husband with a consolation prize.

Sinking to her knees, leather pants pulled taut over her ass, she unsnapped his shorts and let them fall to his ankles. Next came the boxer shorts.

"Lauren, I..."

"Shhhh," she hushed him. "You better take what you can. The next cock though these lips may not be yours."

The significance of those words forced a rush of air from Corey's lungs as Lauren's mouth closed around his dick.

"Oh shit!" he wheezed, placing his hands on the head bobbing in his crotch.

After several minutes of topshelf cocksucking, she allowed the fleshy worm to plop out and quickly wrapped painted fingernails around the quivering shaft. Her eyes met his halfway.

"What if... he wants me to go to the bar with him?"

Corey could barely concentrate. "Then just go."

Lauren kept stroking, picking up speed.

"You'd be okay with that? He's not going to be sober enough to take me back to my motel later. There'd be only one option."

"I know," Corey croaked.

"And you'd be okay with that? For me to spend the night with him?"

"Yes."

"Really? What if... Zane wants to shove his cock in my willing cunt and fuck me all night long? Do you want that?"

"Oh God!" Corey seethed, his hips bucking. "Yesssss!"

"What if... the rumors are true about bikers passing around their bitches? Should I let every one of them motherfuckers do me out back?"

Corey's body began convulsing.

"What if...?" Lauren tried to continue the torture but couldn't finish. The torment had accomplished its intended mission. She sensed the liquid gold boiling in his balls and managed to get her mouth around the tip of the engorged member just as he came.

"Ahhhhhhh SHIT BABY!" Corey sputtered as he pumped his love into Lauren's mouth.

After taking the few puny spurts the wrinkled penis could muster, she pulled his boxers and shorts back to his waist and rose to her feet, wiping a small amount of residual jizz from the corners of her mouth. Whew. That was close. Quick action on her part had saved the need for makeup repairs and the soiling of her new corset.

Corey collapsed on the bed in a daze. Was this not the hotwife behavior he had hoped for? God, help me, it is.

As Lauren removed the protective wrapper from her new jacket, they heard a low rumble approaching, barely perceptible at first, but growing louder. The long-married couple looked at each other solemnly.

"I don't have to go, you know," she said. "You can tell him I'm sick and we can just sit out back and..."

"I know," Corey interrupted. "Watch the sunset."

"Yes."

The steady growl of Zane's bike was louder now.

Corey smiled softly. "I've told you before I don't want to watch the sunset. Go to him. Whatever happens, happens."

She nodded. "I'll tell you everything."

"I know."

Lauren transferred some essentials from her daily purse to a smaller clutch. Their eyes met as she tried to add a condom to the side pocket. Corey gently covered her hand.

"Zane's had one girlfriend since Abby left," he attested, "and presumably that girl was only with her ex-husband before him. Our friend's about as clean as any single guy we know."

Their gaze met in mutual understanding. It would be her choice. Corey kissed her and allowed the foil packet to drop into the clutch. Their eyes held steady until the doorbell rang.

"Now go have fun, Ashley."

Lauren swung the lambskin leather jacket over her shoulders and let it settle into place. It was replete with zippered cuffs and side pockets. Without saying another word, she flipped her jet-black hair out from underneath and turned towards the bedroom door, her curvaceous ass swaying erotically in the obscenely tight leather pants.

Corey scampered to the front guest bedroom and parted the blinds just in time to see his beautiful wife of 28 years take her place on the back of his best friend's Harley. As the bike pulled away, he could see Lauren loop her arms tightly under Zane's and glance surreptitiously back at the house. Had she been able to see the 61-year-old peeking out the second-floor window, she might have detected an unsure look of jealousy, guilt, regret and arousal. Especially arousal. Corey listened to the roar of motorcycle's exhaust fade in the distance as the newly minted couple rode west into the sunset. A sunset he and the love of his life could be watching from their home right then had it not been for his overactive and obsessive fetish. Now, she was going to enjoy it with someone else.

It was going to be a long, long night.

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Lauren held Zane tightly as the Harley tore down the freeway, her gloved hands clutching the front of his well-worn leather jacket. It was not her first time on a motorcycle, but none had been this large and the rides much shorter. It was exhilarating, especially sitting behind such an experienced rider. A decidedly handsome and well-built rider.

That described Zane perfectly. Periodically, Lauren repositioned tired arms across his large chest and could feel the sturdiness beneath. Although the pair had exchanged friendly hugs over the years, Lauren hadn't realized just how solid he was. Occasionally, she'd catch a glimpse of his face as he glanced sideways to change lanes. How did I never notice how rugged and chiseled it is? Probably because she'd never been this close for such an extended length of time. A captive audience at the moment, she had the time to admire his profile. Quite appealing, even with that silly 70s-style porn moustache he'd sported for as long as she could remember.

Surprisingly, the mechanic hadn't said much since leaving the house. Beyond some initial pleasantries and a few riding instructions, Zane had remained uncharacteristically quiet. That was fine with her. Over the decades, she'd rarely had a solo conversation with him. Most of the time Corey and he carried the banter. Given the reasons she found herself on the back of his bike that evening, the prospect of a conventional conversation seemed that much more arduous. For now, she was content to just press her body into the stout frame and feel the warmth from his back on her cheeks. I wonder if he's as nervous as I am?

Little did his "date" know, Zane was just as uneasy. This morning, he had been contemplating skipping the ceremony altogether. Good at his trade, he'd won Top Mechanic before, so the award itself was immaterial. Shallow or not, impressing coworkers with Ashley's beauty was far more important to him. Since the divorce, they'd been after him to forget about Abby and move on. When he finally told them about the waitress, his buddies were overjoyed, but couldn't believe she was "all that". The banquet was to be the vehicle for him to show them she was. Until, of course, the damn girl ran back to her ex.

Now a different "Ashley" was on the back of Bessy, pressing her equally hot body into his. Yet, this was not just any woman. No, this was his best friend's wife; someone he'd known for years. That's what made it nerve-wracking. That afternoon, he'd come to accept his friend's scheme to fool the guys at the shop as an innocent prank. Nothing more, nothing less. The "couple" would eat a little, maybe dance a bit, then he'd drop Lauren at her motel - alone - and come back in the morning to pick her up. What could be more innocent than that? Then came the walk. He damned near creamed his jeans when the raven-haired beauty wiggled down the driveway in those tight leather pants and motorcycle jacket. It took great discipline not to stare at the rather conspicuous cameltoe while giving his new passenger instructions for the ride. In that moment Zane had serious doubts about his ability to keep his libido in check all night.

Audible sighs from both riders were lost to the wind as the heavy bike barrelled down the clear moonlit highway towards Bakersfield.

It was going to be a long, long, night.

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Amelia knocked on her parents' bedroom door and waited for a response. Receiving no answer, she pushed it open and spied her father lying on the bed staring at the ceiling.

"Dad?"

Corey turned his head.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just still a little tired from last night."

"Yeah, me too," she smiled. "Listen, since Mom went with Gail and Ellen to see Uncle Zane receive his award, Caroline and I thought we'd take you out to dinner. How about trying that new Mexican joint on Main?"

Gail and Ellen? That's who Lauren told the girls she was going with?

"Uh, sure, honey, that would be great. What time?"

"How about six-fifteen?"

"You got it."

Amelia turned to leave but stopped just short of the doorway. "Just curious, why'd Mom go and not you? He's you're friend."

Corey rubbed his five o'clock shadow. He wasn't prepared for this line of questioning. It almost sounds like she suspects something.

"Big meeting Monday and I have to be ready. And newsflash, Mom and Zane have been friends for years too."

"But it's Saturday, on a holiday weekend."

"Well, my kind of job doesn't take a long weekend."

The young woman smiled feebly. There was something odd about that reasoning, but she was used to her father working crazy hours.

"Okay then, see you in a bit."

Amelia closed the door on the way out. She was very concerned about her father being alone in the big house while her mother galavanted around Florida. Well, at least it won't be for much longer.

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Lauren nearly froze by the time the shiny Harley pulled into the parking lot between Freddy's Lounge and the no tell motel where Zane had reserved a room. For the most part, the leather jacket had kept her toasty, with the exception of the last fifteen minutes of the ride, when the cold finally seeped through and chilled her bare arms. The sleeveless vest may have looked fabulous, but was clearly not made for this type of weather.