Betsy - Reawakened Ch. 06

She checked her look in the rearview mirror, much like she had before entering the restaurant the previous evening. The harsh morning light brought out details she didn't see in the hotel room. Then again, she was only beginning to put herself back together. She'd gotten dressed, but she had just started to brush her hair when Sam emerged from his shower with his angry purplish cock.

He reacted to her lighthearted line about taking her pussy quite literally, vaulting across the room to grab her. She squealed when he threw her against the bed, lifting the back of her short dress to expose her perfect ass. He fucked her from behind, her body pressed into the mattress, held firmly in place by his strong hand in the middle of her bare back the cut of the outfit created.

First, he fucked her pussy, ramming hard and fast until she came twice. Then he pulled out and quickly jammed his shaft into her ass. Thankfully she'd been fucked there enough the last few hours that she was still stretched out a bit, and his cock was well-lubed from her cumming so hard. It made it a bit easier to take when he ripped all the way into her in one violent thrust, but it still burned. So did her right ass cheek, from him spanking it over and over again as he fired his hips as hard as he could. Of course, she'd literally begged him to do that. It wasn't something he would have thought to do on his own.

When he came, he pulled out again, forcing her to turn around. She slid down to the floor, kneeling in front of him. Opening wide, the naughty glint in her eye made him lurch forward to stuff his prick inside her waiting mouth. While it wasn't as much cum as he'd been firing most of the night, it was certainly a mouthful. She swallowed it greedily, sucking on his cock until it finally softened, wanting every possible drop she could get out of it.

After that, he helped her to her feet. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, telling him she needed to go. It was just past nine-thirty, and she was going to be later getting home as it was. While the hotel was only ten minutes from her house, Betsy was worried about staying much longer. The way Sam had been recovering since she first fucked him the night before, it seemed more likely than not that he'd get hard again if she stayed. The last thing she wanted was to leave him with an erection, thinking that was something his ex would have done.

Now in her car, she took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. She was coming to terms with everything she'd done. While she couldn't be sure just yet, she felt that Darren would be okay with it. She just wondered if she was.

The reflection in the rearview mirror was eye opening. Those eyes looked tired, mainly because she was. She couldn't have gotten more than four hours of sleep, and it was interrupted at that. But in those eyes she saw something much more profound. She saw the young girl she was twenty years before, the desire and excitement in her deep blue irises set ablaze.

It was the old spark she'd been missing for so long. With that came a brazen confidence that suddenly enveloped her inner being, as if she'd sold her soul to live life once again like the carefree spirit she'd long ago set aside to become a wife and mother. That spirit had just been unleashed, and she was ready to reclaim that feeling and keep hold of it from now on.

If there were such thing as a sexual epiphany, Betsy had hers right there in that parking lot. She'd been on the fringe of it for a few years, the exciting weeklong getaways with her friends whetting her appetite. She'd tried to deny that that was all she needed to satiate her growing desires, and to that point she'd been able to, because she became more inventive at home with Darren. But she still found the burdens of being a housewife and mother constraining. Her sex life was the best it had ever been since she'd gotten married, but it wasn't what it was in college. She wanted more. She wanted the wild sexual thrill ride that those four years had been, at least within reason. Yes, she wanted the safety and comfort that her loving husband and family provided. But she also longed to be that wanton slut she knew was long-trapped inside her. She just didn't think she could have both.

Then saw her eyes in her mirror.

The feeling that came over her was overwhelming. She was experiencing the physical response to a night of sexual bliss. The closest she had come to having that many orgasms in a night was the last time they went to Chicago with their friends. But that night was pretty much an orgy. There were three guys one after the other; then a threesome... and more. That didn't even count what she did with her girlfriends. It was a mind-blowing night.

She was also experiencing the mental reaction to that very fact... she was comparing that night to what one man had just made her feel. Darren was incredible in bed. In fact, he was the best fuck she'd ever experienced, and it wasn't even close. Not even Sam was in his league, and she knew it. This feeling was more about the circumstance. Sam was a stranger; someone she'd literally just met hours before, and she ended up in bed with him. It was a stark reminder of just how powerful that kind of serendipitous encounter could be.

That had her analyzing her emotional response to it all. She wondered for a fleeting moment if she really could handle what she'd done... if there would be regrets that might pop up later unexpectedly. She had no way of knowing the answer to that for sure, but the longer she looked at her reflection, the hotter the fire inside her burned. She felt more alive with each breath she drew, her confidence soaring, and the conclusion to her question became self-evident, because the question itself was wrong. It wasn't what she could handle that mattered. It was what she couldn't, and that was no longer being true to who she wanted to be. She loved how she felt at that moment; tired and used, her body aching and sore. It was a long-lost, familiar feeling, and she knew she wanted to experience it more often. Hell, she needed to.

Having come to grips with how she felt about her night, she also came to terms with how she looked. There was a time she wouldn't have been caught dead looking like she did. It would have been mortifying. She would have opened up her purse and began re-doing her makeup to make herself look more presentable. Instead she embraced her disheveled appearance, just like she did when she was younger.

She loved returning to the sorority house after one of her nights out. While most of the girls she knew would have been embarrassed to make that walk of shame, coming home looking as she did now, she always had a sense of pride about it. It was a triumphant return, because she'd done what she'd set out to do on her own terms; her goal was to have a good time, and get laid in the process.

She decided to make just one small touch up. Out came her lipstick and she applied a fresh coat as she looked in the mirror, smacking her lips like she always did. She'd neglected to brush her teeth, even though she had her overnight bag with her. It didn't occur to her to do it while Sam was taking his shower. And he was too busy taking her once he'd finished. She was so dazed from the thorough fucking he'd given her, all she could think to do was straighten her dress and grab her things, giving him a quick kiss goodbye on the way out.

The lipstick added to the mix of what she was experiencing. There were the remnants of the bottle of shameful wine she'd shared in bed that lingered on her breath. There was the sharp aftertaste of his cum on her tongue. There was the slightest hint of her sweet pussy, as well her tart ass; the last two places his cock had been just before it exploded in her mouth. Added to that was the flavor the lipstick left behind. Her palate was enjoying the morning-after cocktail of a well-used slut.

"Mmm... my mouth tastes like I made a lot of wicked decisions last night," she hummed while starting the car.

Driving around to the front of the complex, she pulled out onto the four-lane boulevard that fronted the hotel, quickly pulling into a turn lane to make a left at the stoplight. From there she made a quick right, entering the parking lot to the 7-11. Closing her door, she glanced through the open window into the back seat, the empty bottle making her grin.

Once inside, she went to the back and began pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee into a Styrofoam cup. She added crème and sugar, mixing the magic elixir with a swizzle stick until the black liquid turned to the perfect shade of murky brown. She dropped the plastic stick in the trash before popping a lid over the cup and peeling back the perforated opening. She took a small sip on her way to the counter to pay for it.

"Hello Mrs. Thomas," said the cheerful voice that greeted her once she made it to the front of the small line at the counter.

She was a bit startled that she was called out by name, having been looking at the items near the checkout, all conveniently placed as impulse buys. She'd even picked one up, selecting a small bouquet of six long-stemmed roses from a display advertising a local floral shop. She was intrigued that they were there, having never seen anything like that. But it made sense, marketing to the man who had screwed up and needed a quick peace offering before heading home.

"Good morning, Anthony," she answered with a grin, seeing one of her oldest son Gene's high school classmates. Instead of saying Tony, like everyone else, she always called him by his given name whenever she saw him. And for whatever reason, that made a difference to him, like she thought he was different... even special in her eyes. "I didn't know you worked here."

"I just started last week. I'm home from college for the summer and I needed a job."

"Well good for you."

"Just the coffee and flowers?" he asked.

"And a Playboy for my husband," she smiled. "I was a naughty girl last night, so I need to make it up to him."

Tony smirked, reaching down underneath the counter, pulling out a plastic encased copy of the latest edition. Plopping it down on the counter, he arched an eyebrow. "You said you were... naughty?"

"Well, as naughty as a wife and mother of two can be, I suppose," she shrugged, playing off her confession of sorts. "I was out with a friend, and I ended up having to stay the night. I had way too much to drink."

"Oh... we'll that explains why you're so dressed up. My mother does the girls night out thing every once in a while with the hospital auxiliary she belongs to."

"I've heard Diane mention that. This wasn't quite that fancy. I think I overdressed for what we ended up doing," she offered, giving him a show as she did a pirouette.

"You look... nice," he said, editing what he wanted to say. His cock began to grow, and he quickly began to ring the items as a way to cover.

She sensed he'd changed his thought in mid-sentence, but didn't push it, even though she could see his erection growing. "Why thank you, Anthony. That's very nice of you to say."

"So, Mr. Thomas looks at Playboy, eh?" he commented, starting to put it in a paper bag.

"There's no need for a bag. I'm not embarrassed by it. If I were, would I ask my friend's son to give me one? Or my son's friend... since you could be either," she teased. "Darren actually enjoys the articles. I probably look at the girls in the pictorials more than he does."

"YOU?" he laughed.

"I'm over forty, Anthony. A woman my age needs to know what she's up against if she's going to keep her man happy."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, Mrs. Thomas. You look... incredible," he admitted, finding the courage to say something more along the lines of what he'd been thinking all along.

Betsy played it off with a wave. "Oh, you're just saying that. I actually slept in this dress last night. Look at it... all wrinkled and stained. I don't know what they put in that Boone's Farm strawberry wine, but it kicked my ass."

"Boone's Farm?" he laughed. "You had Boone's Farm? Until last night I didn't think anyone actually drank that stuff."

"Last night?"

"Uh, yeah. They have me working the overnight shift. I'm here from two in the morning until ten. I'm at the end of my shift right now."

"Okay, that makes more sense. So, what happened last night?" she asked, smiling behind her coffee cup as she took another sip.

"Some guy from the hotel across the street came running over just after I got to work. Ha... he actually bought a bottle of it. I think it was the same flavor too."

"You don't say," she replied, her expression showing surprise. "That's a pretty random coincidence, don't you think? I wonder what the odds are of that."

"Yeah... that is pretty weird, huh."

"I wonder why he would need a bottle of wine in the middle of the night."

"He was coming from the hotel and he was in a hurry. He was also pretty excited. My guess is it had something to do with a woman he wasn't supposed to be with."

"What, like a hooker," she laughed.

"HA! I highly doubt that... I was thinking it was his wife at first, but I noticed he'd taken his ring off. I would say she was probably more of a mistress, or someone else's wife. That hotel is pretty high class from what I hear. I can't see a guy renting a room there for a hooker. I didn't know they even had hookers around here."

"Don't men live in this town?" she asked rhetorically. "With a town this size and with it growing like it is, trust me... there are hookers out there. But you're right. probably not at that hotel."

He shook his head, not believing they were talking about the likelihood of prostitutes in their county. "I'll take you word for it. But I think it was probably just a wife or a lover of some kind."

"Well, wives and lovers sometimes get paid for sex too."

"What?"

"Not in cash. I'm just saying, we're women... and if we're putting out, there are times we want something in return."

He was trying to keep up with the odd conversation, unsure of how they ever got on such an unusual subject. Lowering his brow, he said, "Like what?"

"Well, apparently for that woman last night it was a bottle of Boone's Farm, although I'm not sure why any woman would ask for it. Trust me, that shit is nasty."

"So, you got drunk on cheap wine," he laughed.

"No, I got drunk on the three or four vodka tonics I had before that. I chased them with the wine. Not a good idea. I'm just saying I've been known to use sex to get what I want. This dress comes to mind. Darren wanted to have some naughty fun when we were in Chicago. I made him buy me this outfit to set the mood."

That wasn't entirely true. He'd splurged on her, and it led to an incredible night with their friends. But the premise was true. And she'd certainly used sex as a way to get things she wanted in the past.

"Wow. You remind me of a couple of girls I know in college."

"Gee, thanks. I'll take that as a compliment," she grinned, turning back and forth in place like a model, showing off her sexy outfit, and her figure. "Oh wait. You were talking about my behavior, weren't you? I thought you were talking about how ravishing I look this morning."

"Both, actually," he winked, knowing she was playing to him, stroking her own ego a bit. Playing along, he decided to be bold. "We're not having a Mrs. Robinson moment here, are we Mrs. Thomas?"

"Oh my goodness... no Anthony," she cackled, his reference to the movie character that seduces a college student in The Graduate bringing a jolt of reality to their conversation. After all, she made no pretenses about the fact that she was flirting with him. Still, going that far wasn't her intention, and she retorted, "Although, I could think of worse things than being compared to Anne Bancroft. I'll actually take that as a compliment. But, I'm old enough to be your mother."

His impish grin put her off guard. "So was Mrs. Robinson. That's kind of the point of why I said it. And you're a lot more attractive than Anne Bancroft, in my opinion, so it would be worth it."

Her hand went to her chest, finding it beating rapidly from the worldly charm coming from the young man. He was extremely confident, actually leaning over the counter, encroaching on her personal space. She found his actions rather enticing. He was no longer trying to conceal the impressive bulge in his pants. Instead of backing away she leaned in as well, her left breast popping into his view from the low front of her dress being a bit stretched out.

She knew she was flashing him, but she didn't move. She let his eyes linger as she said, "Wow. That's very brave of you, Anthony."

"Interested?" he asked bluntly, looking up to meet her gaze.

He'd instantly gone from being suave and self-assured to letting his youthful bravado play the hand out. And that brought her back to her senses. As much fun as it might have been to have a young stud like him between her legs, she knew it was a line she could never cross over, no matter how she was currently viewing her sexual liberation. She knew his mother, Diane. They were actually very good friends. Hell, they were in a bridge club together.

She let the offer Tony made hang in the air for a moment, as if she were actually considering it. Then she let him down gently.

"I'm flattered... and I'm sure it would be fun... if you really think you could handle me," she winked.

"I'd take my chances."

"Chances... or risk?"

"With risks often come rewards," he replied with a shrug.

"Yes, they can. But I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I think this would be one that could hurt too many people we both love. Besides, I told you, I have to get home to make up to my husband for being a bad girl last night."

"I thought that was what the Playboy was for," he said, standing straight, knowing enough to realize he'd come on a bit too strong. Still, he was pleased with himself for even taking a shot. That she didn't seem angry or offended was a huge bonus.

Handing him a twenty, she picked the magazine up off the counter, tucking it under her arm while she put her wallet back in her clutch.

"That's just part of it. I also intend to fuck his brains out," she grinned as she headed toward the door. "You can keep the change, Anthony. Say hello to your mother for me!"

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

The car climbed up the steep incline, the wind blowing her hair as she kept her foot firmly on the gas. At the crest of the big hill, she eased off her speed and turned right. It was one of the challenges of living where they did, navigating the twists and turns and the rolling terrain, but it made driving fun. She had the radio turned up as she hugged a curve, singing along with a top forty song by Stevie Wonder blaring through her speakers.

She passed an elegant home on her right, the big house perched on a knoll overlooking over an acre of perfectly manicured grass. The majestic white posts that fronted the two-story structure were common in the area, the colonial design much different than the modern red brick home that she and Darren had built just a couple of miles away at the edge of the small city.

It was the home of the Edmondsons, Keith and Diane. They were the parents of Anthony, the young man she'd just had the rather risqué conversation with. And when she thought about it, she realized it was probably an inappropriate one. While nothing came of it, and no harm was done, that didn't mean it was something she should have let get as far as it had.

"Impressionable minds," she sighed, her head nodding with the conclusion she'd just made. Although Tony was twenty-one, not some teenager that was actually all that impressionable anymore. He was certainly old enough to make his own decisions, but that didn't mean they would be wise ones. She knew that from perspective, as she made similar choices when she was his age. Hell, she was making them now. That's why she was feeling as happy as she was.