Best Friends

She shivered. She knew the answer, but even in her own thoughts, was unwilling to voice it and have to admit it to herself.

She started the car and drove home. When she entered the bedroom, Bret roused slightly and rolled over to look at her. She went to the bathroom, took off her clothes and dropped them on the floor. She came back and crawled onto the bed. Brett was still in that half-awake half asleep state. He felt her take his cock and begin to stroke it. When it was rigid she swung a leg over him and guided him into her cunt. He came fully awake as she began to fuck up and down on it vigorously. He was dumbstruck and could only lay there and watch her tits bounce up and down as she fucked him intensely. In the gloom of the dark bedroom, he thought he saw something on her breast, a mark he thought. He lost the thought, becoming suddenly aware that he was going to cum. He arched his back, his hips lifted and a stream of sperm fountained up into her. He collapsed back onto the bed and watched, amazed, as she slipped down the bed and began to lick and clean his cock and balls. When she was done, she crawled up beside him and rolled into a ball and was soon asleep. He, on the other hand, lay for a long time trying to figure out what had just happened.

The next day Bret got a call.

"Bret, this is Randy."

"Hey man, what's up?"

"Did you have an interesting night last night?"

"Hell Yes! What the hell do you do to her."

"I just gave her a better understanding of respect."

"Well, whatever it was keep doing it!"

"How was she this morning?"

I don't know she wasn't up when I left."

"Ok. She is going to make some excuse for having to be out until midnight on Tuesdays for a while."

"I take it she is coming to you?"

"Yeah. Now listen close. In two weeks on Saturday, she is going to come up with an excuse to be gone from the middle of the day Saturday until noon Sunday. Don't make to big an issue of it. Let her make her excuse."

"Ok."

"I want you to clear your schedule as well."

"Ok. Why?"

"We are going to begin your education."

"What?"

"You want to learn how to deal with your wife so she is like she was last night all the time?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Then just do as I say. I will call you for lunch next week. Plan on lunch and then an afternoon getting some things you will need."

"OK."

"I'll call you later."

Bret sat at his desk wondering what this education was all about. He shrugged. Randy seemed to know what he was doing and the changes Brett had already seen were enough to convince him.

Bret got home that afternoon and found Pat laying by the pool. He came in and tossed his briefcase on the couch before heading to the game room. He filled a glass of beer from the tap, opened the door to the pool and stepped out. She jumped, startled, and grabbed a towel wrapping it around her waist as she stood.

"What's up?"

"Ugh. . . nothing. . . just getting a little sun."

"Where are you going. You want a beer or some wine?"

"No. . . not now. . . I need to go upstairs for a bit."

He watched as she hurried off, the towel wrapped around her waist. That was strange as hell. She was usually happy to parade around with her ass and tits hanging out everywhere. He went back into the game room and turned on the TV.

Upstairs Pat dropped the towel and looked in the mirror. On either side of the bikini bottom she could see the bruises from the leather belt. Some of them were still tender to the touch. She pulled the strap on the top down and uncovered her nipple. The welt across her nipple wasn't nearly as angry looking but even the material of the swimsuit seemed to aggravate it. She gently pulled the strap back up. Digging around in the drawer, she finally found the wrap that had come with the swimsuit. She put it around her waist and then checked to make sure everything was covered. Satisfied, she went back down stairs.

Bret was sitting watching some sports show when she entered the game room. He looked over his shoulder at her as she came in.

"I need to talk to you for a minute."

He gazed up at her.

"Sure."

"The manager at the gym has asked if I will take over Jen's classes on Tuesday night. She has something going on with her mother being sick and can't do them anymore."

"So you are going to be out till after midnight every Tuesday?"

"Yes."

He sighed.

"They can't get anyone else?"

"Apparently not."

"If it has to be, I guess it has to be."

She nodded and started to turn.

"Hey, could you pour me another beer."

She shot a look back over her shoulder.

"Is your leg broken?"

She turned and continued on her way.

He turned back around to the TV with a smirk. Back to normal.

The rest of the week was quiet. They went to a party at the country club on Saturday evening and she was her usual chatty, flirty, bitchy self. She wiggled her ass and pushed her tits against all the men, aggravated all the women and did her best to totally ignore him. He sat and watched her as he drank scotch.

I wonder how many of these sons of bitches she has fucked?

She slept until after noon on Sunday. He went to the golf course and when he got home there was a note on the table. She had gone to get a manicure and have her hair done. She would be back later. He shrugged, wadded the note up and tossed it toward the waste basket. She came in about 5 o'clock, announced she was going to dinner with some of her girlfriends and promptly left again. He grilled some brats and watched some old western movies. About 11:30pm his phone rang.

"Bret, its Randy."

"What's up. It's a little late for you isn't it?"

"Ah. . . no. . . actually not. I got to ask you a hard question."

"Ask."

"Is Pat at home?"

"No, she is out with some of her girlfriends."

"She is out all right. I just spotted her at one of the dance clubs downtown with some guy about half her age."

"No Shit! I had a suspicion that something was going on. Did she see you?"

"No. I was in the manager's office and just happened to catch her on one of the security monitors."

"What the hell are you doing at a dance club?"

"The owner is one of our clients. I come down to meet with him here. This is the middle of his workday."

"Ah. That makes sense."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Randy, right now I don't give a shit. You do what you think is best. I am leaving it in your hands."

"Ok ol' buddy. I will deal with it. Oh, before I forget. Wednesday for lunch and then the afternoon?"

"Done. Where for lunch?"

"Let's go to that hole in the wall bar where we used to hang out near the university. I haven't been there in ages."

"Sounds like fun."

The phone went dead. Bret sat in the dark room lost in thought.

I don't even care. Fuck the bitch. If she wanted to slut around town, let her. If Randy has a solution, so be it. Otherwise I'll just let the lawyers sort it out and take the financial hit.

He was asleep on the recliner when she came in. She was carrying her shoes, eased through the backdoor and tiptoed upstairs into the bedroom. She undressed, leaving clothes laying everywhere and crawled into the bed. She didn't sleep at first. She was thinking about the evening. Ryan had met her as planned and they had gone to the dance club downtown. Ryan was more than 20 years her junior. He was tall, tanned and a college student. He thought he had hit pay dirt to have a gorgeous cougar to parade around. He bragged to all his fraternity brothers about her and what they did including the sex. He had taken her to a cheap hotel on the edge of town and they had checked into a room. As she undressed he caught sight of her still bruised ass and went ballistic, wanting to know how that happened, did her husband do that vowing to kick his ass. She quieted him down telling him it was the result of a game she had played with some friends and was nothing. He finally got himself under control and they landed in bed. He was young, healthy, enthusiastic and in good physical shape. He had tremendous endurance if he didn't have a lot of finesse. The problem was she couldn't cum. The harder she worked, the more apparent it became that she was just not getting there. She faked an orgasm. Ryan, in his typical fashion, rolled over and went to sleep. She let him snore for about 20 minutes. Shaking him awake, she told him she needed to go home. Now all she could think about was why she couldn't orgasm. The upcoming Tuesday evening filled her thoughts.

Bret woke up the next morning, rushed upstairs and into the shower. When he walked out of the bathroom he did a double take when saw her ass shining up at him from the bed. The redness had gone but the bruises still told the tale. The more he thought about it the more he smiled. He quietly got dressed and headed to his office.

Tuesday came. Bret was at work and Pat was trying to decide what to wear to Randy's house. She guessed it really didn't matter since she was going to take it off anyway. She shrugged and went down to the pool, opened a cold cola and grabbed a left-over brat that she found in the refrigerator. She heated it up in the microwave, wrapped a piece of bread around it and sat on the pool deck. She was almost done where her phone rang. She looked at the number and didn't recognize it. She answered

"Hello."

Pat, this is Randy."

"Hello Randy." She literally cooed at him over the phone.

"Just shut up and listen. When you come to my house this evening wear something suitable for a club. We are going out for a while."

"OK."

"What did you say."

She gulped.

"Yes Sir."

"Better."

The phone went dead and she discovered she was shaking. She was also wet and her nipples were hard.

How the hell did he do that?

She looked at the clock. It was just after noon and she decided to swim then lay in the sun for a while before getting ready.

When she pulled up in front of Randy's house she looked at the clock. It was 5 minutes to 6. She hurried to the door and before she could ring the bell she heard his voice and the lock clicked.

"Come in and come to the pool."

She went in turned right and went to the end of the hall. He was just getting out of the pool. He was naked. She stopped and inspected him. He wasn't in bad shape for someone his age and that massive cock made her mouth water. He looked at her as he took a towel and dried off. He folded the towel and put it in the hamper, stacking it neatly with the other dirty towels.

"You are punctual that is a plus."

He returned the inspection. She had chosen a rather short black leather skirt and a cream colored blouse. The blouse was just short of being shear enough to see through. She wore 4" heels. Satisfied with the way she looked, he nodded.

"Come with me."

He walked past her and headed to the bedroom. Once there he pointed to the left of the chair he used and nodded. She went quickly and knelt. He went into the huge walk-in closet and when he came out a few minutes later he was dressed all in black. Black trousers, a black knit crew neck shirt and a black sports coat over that. She had only ever seen him in jeans and a polo shirt. His hair, starting to grey at the temples made him look. . . distinguished. . . that wasn't really the word she was looking for but she couldn't quite place it. He picked up his every day pocket carry.

"Come on."

She popped up and followed him. He led her back down the hall toward the pool but turned into another door. It opened into the garage. She stopped and looked. There was the usual Honda four door that he drove. Sitting next to it was a fire engine red . . . something. It was the most exotic thing she had ever seen. Her knitted eyebrows were enough of a question.

"It's a Bugatti Veyron. It will do 285 miles per hour from the factory. Get in."

She went to the passenger side and opened the door and paused. The low slung sports car, the small door and the very short skirt posed a dilemma. He was already seated behind the wheel.

"Get in!"

She gritted her teeth, put one foot in and then slid in as best she could. The leather seat and the leather skirt grabbed each other. The skirt bunched in the back around her waist. The front of the skirt rode up to the top of her thigh. She pulled her other leg in exposing her crotch completely in the process. She tugged at the skirt. She struggled for a moment until he barked at her again.

"Close the fucking door."

She pulled the door shut and sat there with the skirt barely covering her panties. She heard the engine as it roared to life. The whole garage seemed to vibrate and she could feel the vibration through the seat. She smiled.

At least that had a nice feel to it.

The garage door went up and he backed out skillfully. As he accelerated down the driveway she was pressed back into the seat. It took only seconds for the car to be traveling at an enormous rate of speed. Once on the highway he stayed within the speed limit. She was overwhelmed with the car. She sat in silence watching the scenery pass. He was silent as he drove.

She wasn't paying much attention when he pulled up to the valet parking. She looked out the window and nearly fainted. They were at the dance club she had been at on Sunday with Ryan He swung himself easily out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition. She jumped as the door opened and the parking valet grinned down at her, his eyes not missing the condition of the skirt. Randy barked at her from the curb.

"Get out."

She swung her legs out and tried to stand but the deep bucket seat and her angle made it impossible. He stood waiting on her. She kept expecting him to offer her a hand but he just stood impassively looking at her, getting more and more impatient.

"God Damn it. Come on."

She finally managed to pull herself out of the car. In doing so, her legs splayed wide apart and the valet driver got a good view of her panties stretched tightly over her smoothly shaved pussy. She stood and smoothed the skirt. She was beet red. Her anger boiled and she was about to spit a nasty comment at Randy, She saw the look in his eye and bit her tongue. He took her arm, holding it by the elbow and walked her into the club. The doorman called him by name and the bar manager came out to speak to him. As they walked past the bartender he spoke as well. Bret steered her to a door at the end of the bar, knocked once and she heard a voice inside. Bret opened the door, pushed her in and then closed the door behind them.

Inside a large plush office, Pat was greeted with a huge mahogany desk behind which sat a diminutive old man with a bald head. He was pecking at a laptop with two fingers. When Randy came in, the man stood and came around the desk smiling.

"Randy, my boy. It's good to see you."

The old man ran feral eyes over Pat.

"This is the one you were telling me about?"

"Yes Sir, Mr. Jacoby."

"Well. She is a pretty I will give you that."

"Are we ready?"

"OH yes. . . yes. . . I have it all ready."

Randy turned her to face the TV on the wall. The old man went to the shelf beside the TV, punched a couple of buttons and suddenly the screen filled with the dance floor of the club. She audibly gasped. In the middle of the screen she saw herself dancing with her young college student. She watched in horror as she saw Ryan work his leg between hers. She wanted to crawl under the couch as she saw herself begin to slide up and down on Ryan's thigh. The screen was filled with the image of her as she turned her back to Ryan and moved her hips suggestively, grinding them. She turned to face Ryan and blatantly rubbed her tits on his chest as he smiled broadly. They were surrounded by all of his friends who stood in a circle, watching, jeering, and urging her one. Severeal were taking video with their phones. She remembered it well. The alcohol, the thought of all those eyes on her and what might happen had been a huge turn on.

The screen went blank and Randy nodded to the old man.

"Thank you Mr. Jacoby."

"Your welcome Randy. Glad I could be of help."

"May I borrow your office for a few minutes."

Of course . . . I will go and check on the bar and the DJ. You take your time."

The old man left. She looked at Randy with a mixture of fear and embarrassment.

"Would you like to explain that to me."

Suddenly her anger flared.

What right did he have to question her about what she was doing.

"I don't think I have to explain anything to you about what I do when I am not with you."

Before she had finished answering his hand flashed and the now familiar sting and burn on her cheek caused her to step back and mew. Her ears rang, her eyes watered and she had to take a step back to keep her balance.

"I stand here for your husband. You will tell me exactly what you were doing here."

Her eyes were blurry with tears. She had her hand pressed to her cheek.

"Nothing. . . Dancing . . . having a good time."

"And what did you tell Bret you were doing?"

"I told him I as out with a girlfriend."

"That didn't look like a girlfriend."

She blinked back the tears. Her cheek was still stinging.

"Who is that?"

"Ryan"

"He looks young enough to be your son. Are you fucking him?"

She looked at him in desperation. She didn't want to answer but she knew what would happen if she didn't. She stammered as she answered.

"Y . . . Y . . . Yes."

A contemptuous glare filled his face. She could see the cold hardness of his piercing grey eyes and she had to look down to avoid it.

"Call Ryan and tell him to meet you here in an hour."

She looked at him her face filled with horror.

"I . . . I can't. What are you going to do . . .?"

His hand flashed again and her head snapped to one side. Her other cheek turned red and was now on fire as well.

"Call him."

She opened her purse and took out her cell phone. Trying not to sob she pressed the button and heard Ryan answer.

"Ryan, this is Pat."

"Hey Baby! What's up?"

"Can you meet me at the dance club in an hour?"

"Sure! Did you ditch your old man?"

"Just come."

"I will be there!"

She hung up the cell phone.

"Come with me."

He turned and walked out the door. The old man was at the end of the bar. He checked to make sure she was following.

The old man looked up and smiled.

Mr. Jacoby, may I use one of your private meeting rooms for about 2 hours?"

"Sure. Which one do you want."

"The smallest one will be fine."

"You know where it is."

"Thank you."

He turned to her. His voice, friendly and smooth when he spoke to Jacoby, turned hard. The tone sliced like a knife when he spoke.

"Come with me"

As she walked past the old man he looked at her with the same feral stare. He saw her bright red cheeks and the tears. He shook his head and went back to talking to the bartender.

Randy stopped to talk to the doorman for a few minutes and then led her down a short hall. He opened a door and turned on the light. Inside was a small meeting room. It was set up for a private party with some round tables scattered about.

Inn the middle of the room he turned a chair to face the door and sat. When she just stood there he nodded to the floor. She knelt beside him. She was thinking hard.

He has embarrassed me for the last time. Wait till Ryan gets here. He is thirty years younger, heavier, taller and an athlete. He will take care of this. Then this will be over and I will be able to put it behind me. I can live with out it. I don't need it. I don't need him.

Time passed and he sat quietly. In about an hour they heard voices. The door opened and Ryan walked in. He looked around, saw her kneeling on the floor and his eyes flashed as he growled at Randy.