Ascending Lauren Ch. 16

"No! Corey, please let's go."

She watched as Corey collected five crumbled one-hundred-dollar bills and stepped towards the cue sticks.

"Go?" he asked, examining the condition of one tip. "You're a whore now, right? Selling what you got in alleys?"

Lauren's mouth was agape, but with her husband talking like a pimp and the men's hands caressing her body, any resistance was rapidly melting away. Deep down, the embers igniting, bringing predicable heat to her pussy.

As Juan led his wife into the back room, Corey stopped and pressed several condoms into her small but sweaty palm. He could see the lust in her eyes. On the surface, she wanted to kill him, but deep down she wanted to cum even more. Looking over her shoulder just before the door closed, Lauren saw a piece of paper flutter to the floor and recognized it as the note he'd given her earlier that evening.

I O U

+++++

Alone among the tables now, Corey flipped the OPEN sign in the front window to CLOSED and sidled up to a table already racked with a standard eight-ball configuration. An eerie silence settled over the hall as he lined up the break. Just as the cue ball struck the 1 ball violently, scattering the others, a huge Cuban cock must've impaled the mom-turned-hooker in the other room, judging from the impassioned cries.

"OH GOD FUCK ME!" was all he could heard above the rear in-window air conditioner.

Corey applied more chalk and thought hard about the next shot.

Four ball in the side pocket.

+++++

"You BASTARD!"

The first water glass whizzed by Corey's head, barely missing on its way to shattering on the apartment drywall behind him. A dish fared the same fate, although that did clip him on the arm.

"What gives you the right to whore me out?" Lauren screamed.

"Shh, the neighbors. It's midnight!"

"Fuck them, and don't hush me, you prick! You specifically led me to the guy I've been trying to avoid for weeks. And then let him and his buddies screw me like a two-bit whore."

"Let them? Uh, you didn't exactly holler rape. Besides, isn't that how your thing? To be sold to the highest bidder?"

"We could've been killed."

"Whoa, hold on. You already did their leader once. If he was going to kill you, he would've done it in that alley."

"It was stupid then and just as stupid now. HOW COULD YOU?"

Corey pulled the phone from his back pocket and shook his head. "And to think I thought I was doing a good thing," he scoffed, pressing play.

"That's it, boys, fuck me." The voice was muffled through the pool hall door, but definitely hers. "Fuck my pussy HARD!"

His wife's eyes widened. "You creep! You recorded me? Again?"

"Relax, it's just audio. Point is, you seemed to be enjoying yourself."

Lauren was seething. If blood could pour from eye sockets, it would have been coming out in buckets.

"Get...out," she hissed.

"What?"

"You heard me. GET OUT," Lauren yelled.

"Oh, c'mon, we've been having such a nice visit."

She ran to the bedroom and ripped all his clothes from the dresser. Dragging the suitcase back to the living room, she opened the apartment's door and threw it into the hallway.

"Leave."

He stared at her. "It's midnight. My flights not until nine."

"Then you'll be there in plenty of time to get there. Now GO!" The anger in her voice was thick and hung heavy.

Corey hesitated, then stepped into the corridor and looked back. Well, here she is, man, in the wild, just what you hoped to see.

"Yeah, okay, I get it."

"Do you?"

Lauren stopped and collected her thoughts. Exhaling slowly, she sashayed over to him in that highly exaggerated walk women have.

"Really? Good, baby, I'm glad. Then you can certainly see how you've turned your loyal, abstemious wife into a full-on whore. That was all your doing, cuck. ALL YOU! You weren't satisfied with me just being a sex kitten, were you? No, you had to turn me out. So, did you enjoy being my pimp?"

"It wasn't like that."

She grabbed a handful of his crotch.

"Hey, be careful there."

"How was it, then, Twisty? I bet this little cock of yours got hard, didn't it? Did you whack off listening to me fuck those real men? Just how many of your pathetic excuses for cum stains is poor Mendo scrubbing off the tables right now?"

"C'mon, I was just..."

"Just what? Seeing how far I'll go? Well, you haven't seen anything yet. Go ahead, go back to Iowa. I'll be just fine. There's a whole town of cock here. You wanna be cucked? Then strap in, baby, I'll cuck you straight to hell. I warned you a long time ago, once that switch is on it might not go off. And baby, that light is blazing bright and hot right now."

"Please, Lauren, don't do this."

"GET...THE FUCK...OUT."

"Lauren..."

"GO!"

The slamming door reverberated down the empty hallway. Two apartments down, a small dog began to bark.

The last thing Corey saw before the gold 23f numbers nearly took off his nose were the tears streaming down his wife's pretty face.

"I love you," he proclaimed softly.

It was 12:03 a.m. Nine hours until his flight. It was going to be a long night on the concourse.

+++++

December 26th.

Lauren woke the next morning with streaks of mascara on her cheeks. She'd spent most of the night crying. What a horrible way for Corey's visit to end! And after they were having such a good time. Why'd did have to take her to the pool hall? More disturbing yet, why'd didn't she just leave? She wasn't a prisoner, nor did she fear those men.

He's right, I could have just left.

Sniffling and supporting her lower back with one hand, the stiff and very sore office manager shuffled to the bathroom, needing to pee and soak in the tub. Her vagina had endured several rough incursions over the last couple days and needed a break. As the bath filled with hot water, Lauren sat on the toilet and drained her bladder.

Why had she come down so hard on him? Well, on the surface, the answer was easy. She was genuinely pissed at him passing her off on strangers. Under that endearing smile, however, was a man who was hurting. He seemed happiest when she was giving him what he needed.

If he wants to be cucked so bad, then I'm going to redefine the goddamn word.

Call it a twist on tough love.

Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Lauren spied a couple of gifts she'd missed when hastily tossing his shit into the suitcase the night before. Picking up the unopened camcorder, she tore the giftwrapping off admired its high quality. A devious smile crept across her face as she studied the instructions.

The next few weeks will especially fun..

+++++

December 28th.

Caroline Miller sighed with relief as the Colorado Springs Municipal runway disappeared beneath ominous snow clouds and out of sight. The timing of the next blizzard had been sketchy, creating much anxiety amongst those still on the ground. It appeared now she'd dodged the bullet and was well on her way to sunny Miami to see her mother.

Mom. Thanksgiving was the last time they were together. To say that weekend ended awkwardly would be an understatement. The shock of seeing her mother having sex in an amateur video was actually more memorable than the scene itself. If she recalled it correctly, there were at least three others, all much younger. Like most children, Caroline had rarely considered the sexual side of her parents. There were just...Mom and Dad. So, it was no wonder that their budding alternative lifestyle had taken her by surprise. Not just because they were her parents, but growing up in Iowa, they'd never been exactly liberal thinking. Church volunteers, PTA, scout leaders, and coaches? Yes. Sex adventurers? Absolutely not. Yet, in many societies it wasn't completely unheard of. Many empty nesters, no longer having to conform to parental norms, sometimes dabbled in atypical and even risky behavior. That being said, having an orgy with kids half her age and filming it might be a stretch, even in the most liberal communities. The worst part about it was that her sister Amelia was right. Mom had left Dad behind and found other lovers to fill the void. The only twist was, it was he who encouraged it.

Dad. Good lord, not only did he watch Mom, he recorded it. That meant her father was a willing and by all accounts enthusiastic cuckold.

Cuckold. Christ, that's fuckin' weird. The man she'd always considered a man's man, an outdoorsman, fisherman, and passionate football fan, was now a guy who liked to passively watch another man get his wife off.

Wow. Just wow.

At least she wasn't cheating on him. And as mature adults, how they expressed their sexuality was their business alone, as long as it didn't infringe on others. Caroline wondered just how often they had been veering from their own bed. Considering they were living apart, that was hard to say. The pics on her mother's social media accounts didn't exactly conjure up images of a lonely woman pining for her husband. Surely at least one of those hot guys had come close to bedding her at some point. And knowing her mom's low tolerance for alcohol, there was a high probability they succeeded.

You just can't make this shit up.

Then there was Uncle Zane. Given what the young Miller knew now, there was a good chance Mom had slept with him when she went out of town at that awards ceremony. Her mother was in great shape and had certainly flaunted her ware's that night in those tight leathers. Plus, her father had vehemently defended the pair for going alone, even pulling off the road to emphasize it.

Me thinks ye protest a bit too much, Papa.

Not that he was her real uncle or anything, just her father's best friend. Even so, the implications were still disturbing. Picking up rando guys was obviously promiscuous, but those hookups were typically without emotion. But bringing a hometown friend into that world was flirting with emotional collateral. A dangerous thing indeed.

Zane. Holy shit, that dream was...quite revealing. Although she'd never fantasized about him before - he was like family, after all - she had to admit his rough and tumble personality was extremely attractive. Her Id's suggestive powers were no doubt at play the night she'd dreamt about giving him head. Perhaps even more disconcerting was that being naked on the bed with her mother seemed natural as a spring rain.

What would Freud say about that?

In hindsight, it was just a dream, and the reality was her mom really does have sex with other people and her Dad finds great pleasure in it. So, just like Caroline would want their support if she chose to change genders or, hah, become a porn star, she too should find it in her heart to support their choices as well.

Besides, maybe I can snag one of Mom's castoffs. That would show that shithead Bernard what he's throwing away! Fucking Jerk!

+++++

It took a while for mother and daughter to warm up to each other. Their initial interaction was clumsy and uncertain, but that was to be expected. Their last get together didn't end well and it took a lot of small talk and a bottle of wine to loosen up. Caroline talked about her work as a high school counselor, one day hoping to use her psychology certification to hang her own shingle. She also mentioned her scoundrel boyfriend and how she had found him in bed with another girl.

"To hell with him, then!" Lauren exclaimed while lifting her wine glass. "He doesn't know what he's losing."

"Exactly!" Caroline agreed, clinking their glasses. For the first time in a long time, the two women felt a solidarity with each other.

After a few more awkward moments, the younger Miller set her wine down and peered cautiously at the elder one across the table. Lauren saw the inquiring look on her daughter's face and knew what was coming.

"People are talking back home, you know."

"Oh, about what?" The feigned ignorance was almost laughable.

"You. What you're up to down here. You can't deny the photos you post online are a little, um, tarty. Some wonder if you're cheating on Dad. There's an air of sympathy for him."

Lauren took a sip of wine. "And what do you think?"

Caroline shrugged. "Well, the optics don't look good, do they? You're living it up in paradise while Dad whiles the hours away alone in the cold."

"You're right. They don't look good. But most people that know us know the situation. We chose to be apart to manage the move. And while your father may be lonesome, he is anything but disconnected. He knows what I'm up to and who I'm with."

"And he digs that?"

Lauren pursed her lips. "More than you know."

"Wow. So, you guys really do have an open marriage?"

"Well, it's not so much open as it is an agreement." Some anxiety crept into the older woman's voice. She wasn't all that comfortable discussing her sex life with her child.

"An agreement where you can have sex with others with his permission? That's so bizarre. He used to get so jealous when guys looked at you."

Lauren really began to fidget. "I'm not sure we should be discussing this. This is between me and your father and what goes on behind closed doors."

Caroline shook her head. "Not to be rude, but I think those doors were opened when I saw the video."

Pouring herself another drink, Lauren sighed. Mothers were supposed to be less the parent to adult daughters and more the friend. She decided to approach this particular discussion from the latter perspective.

"Okay, then. Here goes. First, thank you for not mentioning to your father that you know. Not sure his heart could take knowing you're aware. Second, the jealousy you mentioned is still there, he just channels it into something he considers pleasurable. I don't fully understand it, and even he can't explain it. But whatever it is, it's real."

"Cuckold angst."

Lauren cocked an eyebrow. "Wow, listen to you, miss smarty."

"Psychology major, remember? Plus, I read up on it."

That put a smile on her mother's face. Ever the curious one, she was.

"Mom, it's okay. You guys aren't beholden to anyone. You've given Amelia and me a wonderful childhood and raised us right. We're thankful for that. I've come to terms with however you and Dad want to live your lives. I just want to be part of it."

Lauren raised the other eyebrow and smirked.

Caroline coughed. "Uhhh, you know what I mean. Your lives. I want to be part of your lives."

The women shared a laugh before enjoying another moment of silence, this one way less stressful.

Finally, Lauren piped up. "You were pretty pissed when you saw that film, though."

"Won't deny it. But later I realized, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what I think, and I'm not going to let that sour our relationship."

Lauren reached out and grasped her daughter's hand. "I'm glad you feel that way."

Caroline smiled and squeezed back. "Me too."

Another minute of quiet came and went before the younger woman pressed on.

"So, Dad enjoys seeing you with others. What's that like? Is this something you want too, or is it all about him?"

"At first it was. Even though we didn't...you know...maybe once a month. And even though his stamina was giving out, I was still content. Menopause kills the desire, so maybe I didn't know any better. But then Max helped take things from fantasy to reality really quick."

"Max?"

Lauren swiped through phone photos until finding one of Max Bemer, owner of Club X. It was of them together, standing outside his bar.

"Seriously? You hooked up with him? God, Mom, he's hot."

A smile flitted across Lauren's face. "Yeah, I guess he is. Thing is, while it may have initially been to satiate your dad, now it's like getting to be the bad girl in high school I never was."

"And Dad's really okay with this?"

"More than okay, he encourages it. I truly believe it's his way to cope with getting older and not being here for me."

Lauren noticeably turned up her nose. "Not that I care."

"What?" Caroline shot back. The distain in her mother's tone was obvious.

"Nothing. We just had a row before he went back to Des Moines."

"I see. Well, I guess we can both be man-haters for the weekend."

"Not all men," Lauren grinned.

Another eruption of laughter. The wine was taking its toll.

"Speaking of which, Mom, it doesn't appear you have any problem pulling them in. I wish I had those choices. I'm so done with that asshole Bernard. Think I could borrow one of your FWBs?"

"Hey now, back off. I'm 48-years-old, its not like the cream of the crop are all knocking at my door. I get the castoffs the 23-year-olds don't want."

Sensing it was time to change the subject, Lauren redirected. "So, what do you want to do today?"

The younger Miller scrunched her face in thought. "Well, seeing as there's a snowstorm back home, I was hoping to get to some of those fabulous beached you have here."

"Oh, that we can do. We're filthy with beaches. Did you bring a suit?"

"Just an old one-piece I had. Going to the pool isn't high on the list of people in mile-high cities."

Lauren shook her head. "One-piece? Um...no. This is Miami. Looks we're going shopping."

+++++

Corey shook off the cold as he set his lunchbox and laptop bag on the kitchen counter. The construction site had shut down early ahead of the New Year's holiday, leading him to pack it in himself. As he shrugged off his coat, he looked around the old house despondently. It was just as big and lonely as when he'd left it that morning. As it would be tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. Nothing ever changed now that Lauren was gone.

Make no mistake. For the past 72 hours, his life had been hell. Between catching up at work and fretting over their argument, he hadn't had time to do anything else. Even the resignation letter sat unopened in the truck's glove compartment with his boss' name on it. The motivation to turn it in just wasn't there.

Selecting a nearly full bottle of bourbon from the pantry, the forlorn project manager plopped into his favorite recliner and kicked off his dusty boots. He swung his feet up onto the coffee table where they landed with a thud. He snickered out loud. Lauren would have torn him a new one for being so careless.

Lauren. God, what the fuck had happened there?

How did things blow up so quickly? SHE was the one fucking half of Miami, not him. And although he had to admit the whole thing was pretty hot, the prostitution fantasy was all hers. All he did was lead her to the water that he thought would quench her thirst. After all, she fucked guys to satiate his thing, right? How was letting her live out her fantasy any different? It was like...a favor...right?

Another shot and a bigger sigh.

Probably should've kept that damn recording to himself, though. It certainly hadn't helped matters any. Yet, it had proven a point. Lauren wasn't raped or forced into anything at that pool hall. And from the sounds on the other side of that door, she had thoroughly enjoyed her time as a paid whore.

He slammed the shot glass down on a side table.

And I'M the bad guy? FUCK THAT.

Sadly, they hadn't spoken to each other since she'd shut the door in his face Christmas night. Not even so much as a text to see if he'd gotten home safely. It had been days now and all calls and messages from him had gone unanswered. That was not like her at all. Am I that much of an asshole? If it hadn't been for Amelia mentioning that she'd talked to her mother yesterday, he would have been deeply concerned for Lauren's welfare.

Two more pours.

Well, at least the trip hadn't been a total loss. He'd gotten to see her in the wild. And how. Blowing that kid on the beach and her antics in the adult bookstore were off-the-chain. Obviously no longer the shy girl in bed who was reluctant to have sex anywhere but a dark bedroom, she had blossomed well beyond Corey's expectations. Her unabashed love for sex now -- and kinky sex to boot - seemed to be a chief motivator in her new life. Something she actively sought out. The caterpillar had turned into a butterfly. A nymphet butterfly, to be sure.