Betsy - Reawakened Ch. 05

Her eyes were expressive. This wasn't having some naughty fun with best friends they'd known for decades. This was a new adventure that was going to shape their marriage again. He could see her excitement, but he could also sense her fear.

"Is this something you want to do?"

"I think that's kind of irrelevant. It doesn't matter if it's what I want or what you want. What matters is what we want. I'm looking for you to help me with how I'm feeling right now, sweetie. It should be pretty clear that I never dreamed I'd be contemplating the idea of fucking a man I just met five hours ago, because we both know that's not true. But here I am, doing just that. I'm pissed, and yet I'm wet. This is all too much. I didn't plan for this. Like I said, I thought I'd be in a hotel in Washington tonight."

"And instead you're in one and we never left town," he said, sighing and chuckling at the same time.

"I'm not in a hotel. I'm in a bar in a restaurant. Where we go from here is something that's up for discussion. And we're discussing it, so let's come to a conclusion together before Sam comes back."

It was too late, as Darren spotted him entering the bar. So did Betsy, which disappointed her because nothing had been resolved. That is until Darren patted his friend on the back when he sat down on his stool.

"Good news, Sammy my boy. I was right!"

"You were right?"

"Yep. Betsy said that's what she meant by Chicago," he said, flashing his wife an impish grin.

She and Darren had been talking about it, and yes, she'd been pushing the sexual envelope all day, especially after he'd arrived home with an unannounced guest. Yet there was something about Darren basically offering her up as a sex partner that she found oddly exciting. It also pissed her off the way he'd done it, never actually confirming with her that they both were on board, instead making the decision for her and allowing her a chance to ease into it over dinner. She knew he wouldn't really make her do it if she didn't want to, but his decisive move meant she was going to have to decline instead of it being explained as a misunderstanding.

That made a difference. Sam had to have known they would talk while he went to the restroom. That's likely why he went to begin with; to give them an opportunity to discuss any misconceptions they might have had over what she meant versus how Darren had heard it. That he'd stated that he'd been right in reading between the lines only reiterated that she hadn't been clear, so there would have needed to be some dialog between the two of them to make sure they were all the same page. Instead he'd inferred that they were.

The look on Darren's face made her seethe a bit inside, but she never showed it outwardly. She wasn't really angry with him. She was more upset that he suddenly had the upper hand, when she had been the one in control at the house. And that was the inference she'd left by not telling him, and Sam, how she was feeling... that she was no longer going to control what happened. She'd basically told her husband it was up to him, all because she didn't want to admit in front of company that she was feeling slutty, even though they both knew it. They all did.

She was faced with a dilemma; one of her own making, really. She had said at the house that she wasn't in the mood to be a wife and while she didn't say it out loud, her inference and the fact that she was flashing them her naked body at the time proved that she was feeling slutty. Her not-so-veiled hint of her behavior in Chicago only added to that perception.

Then again, she also said they weren't going to be rude to Sam... that Darren had invited him to stay in town, so it was their obligation to entertain him. She'd said all of that at the same time. Connecting the dots, it was easy for her to believe why Darren had come to the conclusion he had. And true to his word, he did ask her more than once if she was absolutely sure, which she confirmed.

She'd put herself in the position she was in, but her husband helped by taking away the only out she had to step away from the awkward situation gracefully. In her mind, he was now controlling the evening, because she'd as much as told him to by leaving it up to him to explain what she didn't make clear, and that didn't sit well with her at all. The plan of going to Washington was devised by an assertive woman who knew what she wanted and was hell-bent on making it happen. She wasn't going to follow her husband's directions. It was her weekend.

Deciding then and there that whatever was to happen would be done on her own terms, she set her focus on reclaiming the night.

"Well, he was sort of right," she said as she calmly took a sip from her tumbler, her eyes smiling at her husband, seeing his reaction.

"Sort of?" he asked, intrigued by her impish demeanor.

"Almost," she nodded.

"What do you mean, almost?"

Just then, a member of the wait staff showed up at their table. "Mr. Thomas, your table for three is ready."

"Table for two, please," Betsy interjected with a polite smile.

"For two?" Darren said with a puzzled expression.

"Two dear," she winked.

Darren received that veiled message loud and clear. Just like him, she almost never used that term of endearment in a positive way. It was always meant in a more sarcastic tone, or like him, as a subtle way of expressing displeasure. She might as well have called him bastard.

"Okay. I guess plans have changed."

"No... we were always going to go to Washington. It's just delayed," she replied. Turning to the girl, dressed sharply in a white dress shirt and slim black pants, she reiterated. "A table for two please... we can wait here until you have one available."

"Very well. It'll be about ten minutes."

"Great. Thank you."

The girl took her leave to go make the change in seating accommodations, and Darren started to question what his wife was doing. She cut him off before he got the chance.

"I'm sorry for the alteration of plans, Darren, but it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. In some cases, like this one, it's practically an obligation."

"What are you talking about now? I thought we discussed everything."

"We did. And like you just told Sam, you were right. I'll even say it in front of him this time. I'm feeling very slutty tonight... more now than I was earlier when you came home."

"So what's with the change in dinner plans?"

"It's more of a change in after-dinner plans. I'm just starting them now, because it will be less awkward that way."

"Wow, Betsy, you keep losing me with all these direction changes."

"That's because I don't live by a map like you do, sweetheart. I tend to go wherever my naughty little whims take me."

"And that means what, exactly?"

"It means that when you told Sam what I meant by Chicago, you weren't entirely accurate. I simply meant that I'm feeling slutty. But that's my fault for not being clearer. I never meant for you to tell him everything I do there, or to insinuate that's what I was looking for tonight. But again, that's my fault for leading you both on at the house. So I'm willing to reap the harvest that I sewed, to a point."

"Okay, now I'm lost," Sam said, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut as soon as he said it. After all, this appeared to be a conversation he shouldn't have even been listening to. He wanted to crawl under the table, but Betsy put her hand on his arm, the gentle stroke of her fingertips on his suit jacket putting him at ease.

"I understand, Sam. Just give me a second to finish up with Darren, and I'll have the rest of the night to explain it to you."

"The rest of the night?" the two men said in unison.

"Um Hmm... Look, I opened my big mouth earlier, and frankly my robe a couple of times, without thinking of the ramifications of what I was doing. That's led us to where we are now, which is not what I intended, but I'm totally okay with it at the moment. So here's how the rest of the night is going to go."

She paused, taking another long sip of her vodka and tonic, giving herself a moment to confirm she was willing to go where her naughty mind was leading. All the while, she looked back and forth between the two handsome men with a cool, composed stare.

Placing the glass back on the table, she leaned forward toward her husband. "I don't mind that you've told Sam what a slut I can be, Darren, because it's true. It must have been intoxicating to finally get to share that with someone, because I know you've protected me and kept it to yourself the last few years since my reawakening. And while I wouldn't mind, I don't think it's a good idea to open up and go that far. Sam is coming off a painful divorce. I could be wrong, but it's probably asking a lot for him to even be with me tonight. Having to deal with one of my circus acts would probably be too much for him to handle."

Sam was shaking his head at her description. "Circus acts?"

She patted his arm again, her reassuring smile going against the information she was disclosing. But it did help. "I'm trying not to be too blunt, Sam. I don't know exactly what all Darren has told you, but it really doesn't matter. I've already told you I love being watched, and I know that you know I've been with more than one man at a time before. But this would be your first time with a woman since you're wife left you."

"H... how do you know that? I never said anything about that."

"Actually, you did. And I'd be honored to be the second woman you've ever been with."

"How do you know... never mind," he sighed, realizing she read him perfectly.

Her warm smile somehow calmed his rapid heart. "I just do, Sam. And because of that, I don't think you need the added pressure of having Darren there being a part of it, or even watching. If I'm going to do this, I want to enjoy it, and the only way I'm going to be able to do that is for you to be able to relax and enjoy it too."

Darren was just as shocked as Sam was, but he really didn't have a reason to protest. Betsy was right, he'd agreed to something happening just by spilling the details on some of their more explicit escapades in Chicago. Her logic was unassailable. Certainly, Sam would be more comfortable with it just being the two of them. He'd already told Darren that in so many words, who in turn shared that with his wife. She was only using what she'd been told to her advantage.

Resigned to the deal he'd unwittingly agreed to, he had no reason to suddenly protest. Betsy was right. Never having the opportunity before, he'd all but bragged to Sam about his wife and her slutty ways. He'd even said what a great time they'd have if she were serious, encouraging Sam to take advantage of her mood if he got the chance. Then he'd reinforced that by playfully saying he'd been right all along when Sam returned from the restroom. To balk at the idea once she'd altered the scenario in a way to make Sam more comfortable with going through with it would be awful. Especially when he'd practically implored him to before she arrived at the bar.

Still, he didn't understand the change in the dinner reservations. "Okay, I get all of that, but what about dinner?"

"If you're with us while we're eating, it's only going to make us more self-conscious about what might happen later when you leave. So, you're here for a drink instead."

"But Betsy... I'm starving."

"I really don't care, dear. You can pick up something on the way home. I have dinner plans with my date."

"You're making this seem more like Paula every minute."

"Paula? Who's Paula?" Sam asked.

She was saved from having to answer or having any more deliberations by the girl assisting the Maître D appearing a second time, telling her the table for two was now available.

"Thank you," Betsy said politely. Kissing Darren on the cheek, she gave his crotch a quick pat underneath the table. "Go home and pack up your car, Darren. My suitcase is on the bed in our room, ready to go. I'll be home in the morning, and we'll be leaving as soon as I get there."

"In the morning?"

"You heard me, sweetheart. I'll be home by ten. Be ready, because we're leaving as soon as I pull in the driveway."

Darren stood, finishing his drink in a big gulp. Setting the glass on the table he prepared to leave. Betsy turned in her chair, acting like she was going to get up to. Instead she faced her husband, her bare back to the rest of the bar.

"And Darren," she said calmly.

"Yes?" he replied solemnly.

Spreading her thighs slowly, she exposed her pussy to him in the crowded room. "This is going to be well-fucked the next time you see it."

He actually smiled. "Protocol three. I should have known."

Crossing her legs, she grinned. "Have a good night. But no jacking off. I want what I have coming to me tomorrow in DC."

"Anything you say, sweetheart," he said as he kissed the top of her head. "I wouldn't want to ruin your plans any more than I already have."

"They're not ruined. Just delayed. Sam and I are going to have an memorable night, and then you and I will have a magical weekend."

"Have a great time then. You too, Sam."

All Sam could do was wave goodbye; the proper words to say under the circumstances never being something he could have scripted before.

With the two of them alone, Betsy nursed her drink. Seeing his uneasiness, she moved her fingers down his arm, holding his hand when they met. "Relax Sammy. I know you're nervous. I can tell your ex-wife really did a number on you. So, I'm going to do everything I can to make you forget all about her."

"HA! You're going to make me forget the last fifteen years?"

"No. I'm about to show you what the next fifteen can be like."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sam was beside himself, not believing his good fortune. Bobbing up and down, he was treading in place in the middle of the pool, watching the stunning beauty in the white bikini standing at the end of the diving board, her toes placed perfectly on the edge as she prepared to make her dive. Throwing her arms up, she gracefully lifted her left knee up high at the same time, before bounced in place twice, creating momentum. Upon the third downward thrust, she waited until the perfect moment for the board to come back up, springing herself high into the air. Her torso rose in a graceful arc, and then she tucked her knees, grabbing them, making a full revolution and a half before her arms pointing straight down as she entered the water.

The splash was minimal, her body straight, her toes perfectly pointed as she slipped underneath the water. He waited in anticipation for her to surface. She did, her face popping out of the water right in front of him. He felt her hand groping his crotch, feeling his hardness.

"I think you're finally ready for round two," she smiled.

"I think you're right," he replied, his hands still waving back and forth as he slowly kicked to hold himself still.

"Then come on. There's another hole you haven't filled yet," she giggled, leaning away to backstroke to the edge of the pool.

"What?"

She was already climbing out, her feet on the bottom rung of the ladder, her heart-shaped butt just above the water line. Wiggling it back and forth, she looked at him over her shoulder. "You haven't fucked my ass yet, Sammy. I think it's high time you did, don't you?"

"Damn! This is the best vacation I've ever had, and it's only the first day," he said quietly as he swam quickly in her direction.

Their dinner had been wonderful, even more so for him than for her. She made Darren leave as soon as she finished giving him instructions for their departure the next day. He wanted to say something, but the look she gave him was enough to warn him not to keep pushing it. Then she flashed him her pussy and made her intentions well known. Resigned that her mind was set and she was calling the shots the balance of the weekend, he made his way to his car.

His drive home was difficult, particularly because he had to stop and pick up a bite to eat elsewhere. But it was more knowing what his wife was about to do than anything else.

"How the hell does Rob do this?" he wondered, the knot in his stomach making him a bit queasy.

Betsy was having no such misgivings. She and Sam stayed at their table in the bar, finishing their drinks before making their way to the dining room. She asked for his hand to help her down from the tall stool, positioning him in front of her as she held hers out for him to take. When he was right where she wanted him, she uncrossed her legs like she had to Darren, showing him her uncovered pussy.

"Look how wet you're making me Sammy," she hissed, spreading her thighs a bit wider before stepping down. He growled, and she giggled. "You see. I told you you'd like the view of the valley," she teased.

That image carried him through their meal. She wished she'd asked for a booth instead of a table for two, which would have allowed them to sit next to each other. Instead, she had to do all of her flirting verbally or with her body language, unable to find a way to touch him or let him touch her, without it being too conspicuous.

It worked though. She grinned when she saw his bulge when he helped her up from her chair after dinner. She even conveniently bumped into it, her hand making a quick feel as she stood.

"Ummm... nice and thick, just like I like them," she cooed, before leading him out the front of the restaurant. They didn't hold hands there, because she wasn't sure if there would be anyone she knew nearby. But she didn't shy away from taking him to her car.

She drove around the side of the big hotel, pulling into an empty space near where his car was parked. The hotel itself was basically three buildings. There was the large one in front that housed both the restaurant and bar, along with the main lobby and front desk. There was a second building that ran horizontally off the west side of that building, and a third one that was parallel to the first one. The three buildings created sort of a horseshoe. The main one was two stories tall, while the two buildings that made up the actual rooms were three stories each. To the east, there was a huge grove of trees that gave the center of that horseshoe privacy from the surrounding area. And in that center was the huge swimming pool.

The entrances of the rooms were all the outdoor variety, the doors and windows being along railings that were in view; the ones inside the horseshoe were visible to the pool, while the ones on the opposite sides faced streets. The hotel was located on a corner of one of busiest intersections in town. The rooms facing the street to the south were in view of a lot of traffic. The street to the east of the hotel was more of a back road that seldom saw much activity. The rooms facing that direction were the most private.

On the second and third floors they'd built a walkway that connected the two buildings. While the two hotel units had stairways on each end, it was designed that way so there would only have to be one set of elevators, which were nearest to the front desk. This was as much for the cleaning staff as it was for the guests, making all the rooms on the upper floors elevator accessible. At ground level that gap created a walkthrough access point from the parking lots that were all on the outside, to the first-floor rooms and the pool on the inside. It also led to the back entrance to the lobby and restaurant.

She pulled the nose of her car directly in front of one of the rooms. But she'd parked in the back for the privacy it provided. She didn't have any issues with what she was about to do, but that didn't mean she should just ignore being discrete. Opening the back door, she took out her overnight makeup bag, which she'd taken with her to Justine's house along with three possible outfits to get ready for the evening. Not knowing what she was going to wear to dinner, she wanted to be prepared. Besides, she already had both it and her suitcase packed for the trip she wanted to make to Washington. She'd left the suitcase at the house, only needing the overnight bag and the few outfits to choose from.