Ascending Lauren Ch. 11

As he released the clutch and was about to pull away, Lauren suddenly wheeled, hands on hips.

"So, what's Freddy's like anyway?"

He depressed the clutch again and laughed. "Like a fraternity house on steroids."

"Sounds like fun."

Zane studied her face. Is she REALLY fishing for an invitation or just fucking with me?

"Not sure Corey would appreciate me taking you into that environment."

Lauren struck a seductive pose. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a big girl capable of making my own decisions."

His eyes travelled over her leather-bound body. The slit of the cameltoe and the way the stiletto heels highlighted her legs and ass were just too fucking much to take. "I can see that," he said, breathing heavily.

The siren walked right up to him, hands on hips all the way, pelvis swinging. She said nothing. She didn't have to.

Zane hesitated, knowing full well the potential ramifications of what his next words would be. He sighed. Fuck it.

With a rev of the powerful Harley's engine, that night's top award winner jerked his thumb at the back of the bike. "Hop on."

Lauren broke into a smile. Their eyes met briefly, then she kissed him.

He brushed her cheek tenderly with gloved hand. "You don't have to act out here, you know."

She held his chin, wiping away some lipstick with a thumb. "I wasn't."

Zane cocked an eyebrow. His dick flared. "You know once we get to Freddy's I may not be in any condition to bring you back here tonight."

"I know," Lauren whispered softly in his ear as she mounted Bessy and clutched his waist.

The large man's mind was spinning as the bike tore out of the parking lot in a cloud of dust. They were on the precipice of something both were desperately trying to thwart internally. Was this finally the wild woman he thought he saw in those social media posts? Was there some truth to the suspicions circulating amongst her friends?

God pity Corey if they were right.

+++++

From the moment the couple pulled up to Freddy's, it was quite evident the joint was hopping. Loud 70s rock music blared from open windows and laughter and raucous conversation could be heard well into the parking lot. Sounds of bottles rattling and clanging -- some perhaps even smashing -- assured any potential revelers that patronage of that establishment was not for the faint of heart.

Zane chose to park the bike near his motel room so he wouldn't have to navigate later. He offered to stow Lauren's overnight inside and opted to sink a couple shots of whiskey before making the trek across the gravel lot to the lounge. The mechanic was delighted when his date was keen as well.

"Need to get my Ashley back on," Lauren grinned. "I'd almost put her away for the night." She burst into laughter. The alcohol was taking its toll. "Not rode hard and put away wet...yet. Maybe we can change that."

Zane cock nearly burst from his jeans. Good God.

Peeling off the leather jacket, Lauren tossed back a second large shot and fluffed her hair.

"Can you take a pic for Corey?" She struck yet another pose, legs apart, hands on hips. "I want him to see what he's missing."

Zane wiped away a bit of whiskey from his lips. Sweet Jesus. "Uh sure."

"Wait!" she exclaimed, lowering the strapless corset's zipper until it was just about unseated. Nothing left to the imagination up top now, just maximum cleavage and full side-boob views from any angle. "What do you think? Will Ashley continue to impress your friends?"

Zane nodded and took the snap. "With all due respect, forget those retards, you've have my attention all damn night."

"Really?" Lauren slithered up to him and poured herself another shot. "I hadn't noticed." The back of her hand grazed his crotch as she slid the bottle back into his hand.

"I shouldn't have said that," Zane apologized. "I'm out of line, it's the whiskey."

"Out of line? You've been nothing but the perfect gentleman," she disagreed, placing her hand on his chest and breathing heavily, "but I keep hoping that will change. Now send Corey the pic."

Zane felt his will power crumbling. He punched in his friend's number and sent the photo message.

Rowdy partiers outside in the parking lot broke the sexually charged stillness.

"Shall we?" the biker asked, nodding towards the door.

Ashley giggled at the innuendo. "Shouldn't you at least buy me dinner first?"

Zane looped his arm around her sexy waist as he guided her from the room. The gravel lot crunched under their feet as they walked to Freddy's.

"Funny, I thought I already did."

+++++

Freddy's Lounge was every bit what Lauren had anticipated. Loud music, lively, a blue-collar whiskey drinking crowd. Zane re-introduced Ashley to his coworkers and the pair joined a long table of ten others. To her delight, the same women she'd befriended at the banquet were there along with their husbands. Amazingly, an assorted group of single guys came over to say hello as well. A quick scowl from Zane served as a warning shot across their bow which quickly curtailed the unsolicited visits.

As the midnight hour struck, the spurious couple were well beyond intoxicated. Lauren tried throwing darts but failed miserably. Later, Zane chortled as his friends tried to show her how to better her pool game, but really just wanted to gawk. Hand-eye coordination didn't fare any better at that sport either. In fact, the best part was watching Lauren bend over to take a shot in those unholy tight leather pants. Occasionally, much to the joy of her mentors, gravity would drag the nearly unzipped vest away from her chest, allowing an unfettered view of her tiny tits, nipples and all. Zane thought it curious that she didn't even attempt to cover up. How was this the same girl he watched walk down the aisle with his best friend? Up until now, she'd been one of the most modest women he'd ever known. Had Miami changed her that much in such a short period of time? Whatever the cause, she clearly was more comfortable in her sexuality now. He wondered just how much more.

+++++

The handsome cowboy wrapped his arms around the pretty prairie lass as dramatic music played. Corey's eyes blinked open as he woke. Must have fallen asleep.

He looked at his phone expectantly and saw one unread message from Zane.

'bout fucking time.

There, in the same room she'd sent a text from earlier in the evening, was a very drunk or high Lauren posing most suggestively. Hands on hips, pelvis thrust forward, the leather pants were pulled tightly against her crotch, allowing the cameltoe to sink noticeably into the snatch beneath. The vest -- oh my God the vest - was nearly undone, providing even less cover than a tiny bikini top.

The aroused look in her eyes! Surely Zane could not resist much longer.

He took a deep breath, not wanting to reveal his excitement.

COREY: Everything okay?

Zane felt his phone vibrate and saw a response to the text sent over an hour ago. He looked up at "Ashley" who was still at the pool table flirting with his coworkers.

ZANE: Sorry, didn't see your messages until now. At Freddy's, all is good.

COREY: Where's Lauren?

Zane winced. He knew Lauren being with him was not part of the plan.

ZANE: She's here too.

Corey let that sink in. He suspected as much. If his wife was at the bar, there was little chance of getting a ride back to her hotel safely. And Zane would never allow her to do something stupid. Maybe his scheme would work out after all.

COREY: She's looking hot tonight, buddy. You're one lucky dog. How's the arrangement working?

ZANE: She's got them fooled hundred percent. BTW, thanks for letting her come. She's amazing.

At that moment, Lauren glanced at Zane and let the pool cue slide through her thumb and forefinger provocatively. His cock twitched.

Corey's did as well, and although there was no visual, just the thought of renewed potential aspirations was enough to rouse him.

COREY: Don't do anything I wouldn't. And if you do, take lots of pics. Smiley emoji.

Zane stared at his friend's words. What the hell does that mean?

+++++

Eventually Ashley's new girlfriends pulled her away from the pool table and out on the dance floor. Initially the men were content nursing their beers and watching the drunk vamps shake their asses. The DJ read the room well and spun mostly good time rock 'n' roll songs which proved particularly popular with that crowd.

As they danced, the women talked amongst themselves. One asked Ashley whether what Abby had said was true. "I think you have a tiger by the tail there," she concluded. "So, does he really get as rough as she claimed?" Lauren searched her booze-impaired memory capacity. Her and Zane's ex-wife had always gotten along, but they were never close enough to discuss what went on behind closed doors. The office manager just smiled and went to retrieve her date. What did she mean by tiger?

As she processed what the woman had said, the 48-year-old beauty never lost sight of the reason she was there. Playing the date card perfectly, especially during slow songs, she kept Zane close, arms looped the muscular biceps, hips moving against his in rhythm to the music.

Lauren ground her crotch into his legs, first one, then the other, sometimes straddling the meaty thighs. Their bodies melded together and swayed to the beat in sync. Zane could feel her hot breath on his neck and was delighted when she allowed his hands to freely traverse her leather-clad body. At first, he was somewhat restrained, his reverence to Corey still repressing any idea that this whole thing was anything more than a perverted, distorted farce. But as their dancing became more impassioned, the award-winning mechanic felt deep cracks forming in his resolute. Shields were falling and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about.

Lauren felt it too. Whatever mental saltpeter Zane had concocted internally was wearing thin, and her own urges were boiling with each passing minute. Up until that moment she hadn't necessarily shared her husband's aspirations for the date. She'd always looked on Zane as a good friend, even after hearing what he thought of her. "Who wouldn't tap that given a chance?" No mistaking the intention of that statement.

And he was incredibly hot in a lumberjack kind of way. Ever since their first kiss that evening, his broad chest, stocky arms, and a hint of a large package had all been eroding any misgivings she may have had about fulfilling Corey's latest importunity. As Zane's hands continued to grope her body, any doubt was melting away. Kumiho was awakening with a vengeance. Tonight's destiny was clear.

"I need to pee," Lauren whispered in his ear, their bodies swaying softly to the blues music.

Zane pointed at the huge arrow on the wall which plainly suggested the way to the ladies' room.

Hands on his chest, a delicate finger traced his shirt from collar to belt. "Show me, pleessssee."

Zane laughed. Yep, she was officially shit-faced. Grabbing her hand, he led his giggling date down a back hallway and stopped between two doors labeled "Bulls" and "Bitches". A yellow "Restroom Closed" sign blocked the entrance to the ladie's room. A putrid odor of vomit wafted from within while a very angry waitress mopped the floor.

"Shit, I gotta pee!" Lauren danced, hands between her legs. Grabbing Zane's hand, the brunette pulled him into the "Bulls" room and waddled to the nearest commode. "You watshhh," she slurred, disappearing into the stall. The biker stood outside and listened to her bladder empty, followed by a flush, then nothing.

"Laur...I mean, Ash? You okay?" Still nothing. Fuck, did she pass out?

He tapped the door with his finger. It wasn't locked, so he gently pushed it open. There, sitting on the toilet was his best friend's wife with the most irresistible, inviting, and bewitching come-hither look he had EVER seen. Lauren pulled him into the stall and shut the door.

"What are you..."

"Shut up, Zane, just shut the fuck up."

Before he could react, her hands loosened his belt and unzipped the fly. As denim parted, revealing the cotton shorts beneath, she quickly pulled them and the trousers to his thighs.

Lauren gasped as Zane's hardening cock sprung into view. It wasn't like any penis she'd seen before. Long and skinny, there was a certain curvature to it, more pronounced towards the bulbous head. It was truly the proverbial tube steak.Magnificent.

She ran several fingers along the underside of his quivering manhood, eliciting a deep moan from the friend she was about to blow. The anticipation increased as her tongue darted out for the first taste.

"Lauren, no."

"Shhhh, let me thank you for dinner."

The sight of her pretty face triggered fond recollection of their friendship: waiting with Corey on the alter as Lauren floated down the aisle, visiting her in the hospital after the birth of Caroline and Amelia, float trips, graduations, birthdays. That was all forgotten as Zane watched his buddy's wife move forward on the toilet seat and slide her lips over his shaft. Any remaining objections his mind could conjur evaporated.

"Damn, girl, suck that cock."

Lauren didn't take it deep at first, preferring to swirl her tongue around the bulbous mushroom until she could assess how to properly take such a long, bowed spear. With one hand cupping Zane's balls, the other helped steady his dick while she licked the pink flesh.

"Goddamn, that feels good!"

"Such a big cock, Zane. I had no idea. Much bigger than Corey's, but you already knew that."

He did. Guys see other guy's dicks whether it be in the locker room, pissing in the woods, or whatnot. Typically never a topic of conversation because most dudes just didn't care.

Lauren sized up Zane's bent tool as she continued to lick its head, fingers closing around the massive member in pursuit of what she hoped would be a happy ending. It was not as wide as Tony's, but certainly a good deal longer. After multiple attempts, she found coming at it from above his navel allowed the slinky snake to slide easily down her warm throat, well past the tonsils. Lifting herself a bit from the plastic horseshoe seat permitted the perfect angle, and Lauren settled into a sucking cadence with purpose.

Zane grabbed her silky black hair as she took his dick to the base. "Oh fucking shit!"

"Mmmmppphhhfff."

For the next few minutes, the only sound was the biker's heavy breathing along with the sloppy smacking of the Iowan wife's dutiful lips on the fully erect penis of a man not her husband. This wasn't a sprint, it was a marathon, and Lauren was determined not to leave without him splashing a load of cum in her mouth. She picked up the pace, forcing his rod down her throat, effectively fucking her face for him. The ferocity of her cock sucking forced Zane to press his palms against the walls of the stall for stability. Corey once complained she never gave him head and now this? What the fuck?

The couple was so immersed in their dirty deed they at first didn't notice the pair of purple suede boots stop outside the stall. Zane was oblivious, but one could hardly blame him. He was facing the wall and receiving a world class blowjob. Lauren, on the other hand, eventually spied the pair of legs next to the door but refused to let their presence distract her from her mission.

"Mmmmmuggggggaaaaahhhhhhhh," she gargled.

"Uggggggggghhhhhh," the mechanic moaned.

"Yessss," the disembodied boots sighed from the other side.

Lauren's eyes widened. She let Zane's dick slide from her throat and sat back down on the toilet seat. Looking up into her date's eyes, it was apparent he wasn't aware of their fan. She wrapped both hands around his crooked staff and applied a death grip.

"You enjoying this, baby?" Her fists began pumping the length of the skinny shaft. "You like watching your best friend's wife go down on you?"

Zane grunted. The visitor did too.

"I've seen the way you've looked at me tonight. Admit it, you've wanted to ram your cock down my throat all night, haven't you?"

"Lauren, no I..."

"You've tried to be good, haven't you? Tried to respect Corey and my virtue. But you can't help it anymore. You want me. You want to see me take your load so fucking bad. Say it!"

More grunts from both inside and outside the stall.

"Say it, Zane!"

"YES, YES, goddamnit, I WANT IT! Take my cum, take it, take it!"

"I will," she promised, her hands a blur on his meat. "Give it to me, stud, cum for me, cum for me NOW!"

Zane's hips began to buck. Lauren knew he was about to blow. She fixed her eyes on his and stuck out her tongue.

"Dump it, baby, dump it in my slutty mouth."

"I'm gonna...I gonna..."

The biker aimed his cock the best he could. The first little spurt was off target, hitting her cheek, the next two were quite voluminous and landed directly on her outstretched tongue. Bullseye.

"AHHHHHHHH FUCCCCK!" he roared as the thick ropes of semen rolled down her throat and out of sight.

Lauren sighed heavily like an addict injecting poison. Hot sticky jizz was her drug now and feeling it on her face and in her mouth was the mainline. She swished the thick frothy goo around her tounge as she drained the last salty drop from the cock's gaping pink hole.

As Zane collapsed against the stall's walls, the couple heard the visitor's muffled cry, followed by a spray of milky-white liquid which landed with a splat on the concrete between the two boots. Seconds later. the mystery fan ran from the restroom. Zane looked at Lauren with utter surprise.

Wiping her mouth, she opened the small door and brushed by the mechanic on her way out, stopping briefly to whisper in his ear.

"Come, make me your whore."

Zane stared after her as she walked the stilettos around the fresh pool of semen on the floor. He was filled with both yearning and trepidation.

What have we done?

+++++