Betsy - Reawakened Ch. 06

But she needed to be smarter when it came to them. What started out as an innocent, playful conversation because of her buoyant mood, became more serious the longer she lingered at the store. She had only intended to extend the euphoric feelings she'd experienced from her night with Sam. That didn't mean she was looking to continue along those lines with Tony. But he picked up on the aura she was projecting, and being a sexually active male in the prime of his life, he attempted to take things further.

"I've got to be more careful than that," she scolded herself. Yes, the image of a naked Tony thrusting a hard cock into her welcoming wet pussy was a nice one. Damn nice. But not enough to outweigh the collateral damage actually doing it would create. She wanted to be freer sexually, and from the way he acted the night before, Darren appeared to be encouraging her along those lines. That didn't mean she should be callous and careless in her actions; about how she acted in public. She just had an incredible night with Sam. Less than ten minutes after leaving, she had inadvertently put herself in a situation that could have totally ruined that feeling she had.

Seeing the Edmondson home was eye opening. She'd been there just a few months before, as it was her friends turn to host the bridge club they were a part of. It was a beautiful home, a happy family living within its walls. She suddenly wondered what Diane would say if she knew she'd just basically enticed her son, letting him think she was interested in having sex with him. She even purposefully flashed her tit, allowing him to ogle it as she considered his come-on.

Driving past the stately home was a wakeup call, announcing that she needed to get control of the signals she was projecting before she actually did end up doing something she might regret. Her mind quickly ran to thoughts another one of her friends. A close one... one of the two women she considered her best friends on earth.

What she'd just done with Tony was something Paula would do. Paula and Carrie were her two compatriots; sorority sisters of like mind when it came to sex. But Paula was the more aggressive, and she was the one that continually pushed boundaries. After all, she had come on to Carrie's husband. That she was not only one of Carrie's best friends, but also her sister-in-law, spoke volumes about the lack of constraint she could show. When it came to sex, Paula seldom thought of the consequences of her actions. She had always been a fuck first, ask questions later kind of gal.

It was hard to be upset with her about it most times. After all, it was her unwavering need for sexual gratification that Betsy found endearing. Paula was a nymphomaniac before anyone knew to call it by that name. She lived for sex, and that desire led to some incredible adventures for the three roommates.

The fact that she didn't see anything wrong with attempting to seduce Mack wasn't really surprising when one considered what she'd done in the past. And it ultimately led to the three couples taking their naughty vacations together, which was something Betsy now eagerly anticipated each year. Yet even while she was reaping the benefits of Paula's indiscretion, she knew what her friend had done that night was wrong. That's why she and Carrie had punished her for it.

As bad as what Paula had done on the dance floor at the Playboy Club with Mack, so was what she had just done with Tony at the convenience store. Not necessarily the flirting, because that was a part of who she was. It was the idea of allowing things escalate a step further, as incredible as it might have been to think about. Diane and Keith were her friends, and Tony was literally a part of them.

In Betsy's mind, there were lines and they were clear. It was one thing to covet thy neighbor's husband, or wife for that matter. She could easily see herself with Keith. He was a tall, handsome man with an impressive physique. She'd caught herself looking at his thick bulge more than once at a bridge club party. Hell, she could also see herself with Diane. She was stunningly beautiful woman of Lebanese descent. Her dark complexion and jet-black hair gave her an exotic look that she was both envious of and attracted to. Having sex with either of them was enticing to fantasize about. But sleeping with their son was something she should never have considered. Allowing the young man to think she had done just that left her with a moment of remorse.

She could only imagine how she'd react if Paula were to try and do something sexual with her son Gene. It would likely be very similar to the scene in that Chicago hotel room soon after she'd tried to get into Mack's pants. A scene initiated that time by Carrie. But that wasn't the first time. They'd each had to punish Paula over the years, several times, for various infractions to their internal code.

"You're better than that, Betsy" she said in self-admonishment, the Edmondson house disappearing from her rearview mirror as she rounded the bend. "It's one thing to want to be slutty... but for heaven's sake, don't be Paula. Just be yourself!"

Back in the proper frame of mind; she resumed singing along to the radio. She was still upbeat, replaying her night with Sam in her head. The dalliance with Tony had been a mistake; she wasn't going to let it ruin her day.

She slowed down entering her driveway, always cognizant of how going too fast would rut the gravel. It was one of Darren's pet peeves, and she didn't want to risk making him upset. She was already nervous that he might be because she'd spent the night with another man. That had been a much bigger risk; one that would have a tremendous impact on her marriage one way or another. She just hoped it would lean toward the way she'd anticipated. Otherwise, any visions she had for their weekend would be shot. She'd be too busy trying to save her relationship with the man she loved.

Inhaling deeply, the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle filling her brain, she tried to calm her nerves as she put her 1966 Chevy Impala station wagon into park. It was white and blue, and she kept it spotless. It was the closest thing to a new car as she'd ever had, just seven model years old, and she treated it like the brand new 4-door black Caprice Classic that sat next to it on the carport. Turning off the engine, she stepped out quickly, grabbing the flowers and the empty wine bottle from the back.

She burst into the house like a ray of sunshine, much to the surprise of Darren, who was sitting at the dinette table drinking a second cup of coffee. She didn't say anything to greet him, going straight to the sink. She rinsed out the wine bottle, smiling as she thought about the last place the open end had been; namely stuffed deep inside her pussy. And that was the reason she kept the bottle to begin with. It was her memento from an evening she hoped would be the start of a new way of life.

Cutting the ends of the stems, she placed the roses into the bottle, which she'd filled halfway with water. Setting it on the windowsill above the kitchen sink, she stepped back, looking at it. Her wicked smile had Darren on edge, to the point he couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"What's with the floral display?"

"The bottle is my memento from last night. I bought the flowers for me... they make me feel happy," she shrugged. Not mincing words, she moved a couple of the roses around to change the arrangement more to her liking. "My overnight bag is in the backseat of my car. Get it and put it in your trunk with my suitcase."

"Is that it?" he asked, perplexed that she wasn't saying anything about what happened with Sam.

"Uh... yes," she nodded. "Oh... I also bought you a Playboy. It's in the car. Bring it if you want. You can compare me to the girls in it tonight at the hotel. I'm going to go brush my teeth."

She glided across the floor, her shoes seeming to barely make a sound as she moved past him. It struck him as odd that she was still wearing them. That was her biggest pet peeve, but he declined to say anything. He didn't want to risk making her angry.

What she'd done the night before had been such a huge turn on to him. It wasn't like he wanted to become Rob, being the stay-at-home cuckold while his wife went out to play around. But he couldn't deny how excited he was knowing what she'd done. He feared she might be upset that he'd said something to Sam that put her in a position to feel obligated to fuck him. By initial appearances, that wasn't the case, but she was being short and direct. He could have been totally misreading her.

It was all so out of character for who she'd been since they'd been married. But with what she'd shown herself to be capable of during their erotic vacations, he didn't want to stunt any personal sexual growth she was willing to explore. After all, she had professed to wanting to learn how to deepthroat. She apparently still wanted to go to Washington. Making her upset might bring that trip to a screeching halt. He would have had to have been the biggest idiot on the face of the planet to do anything now to jeopardize that.

"I'll meet you at the car. We're leaving in five minutes," she commanded. It was something he'd said before every trip they'd ever taken, knowing it would the first of many such exclamations in hopes of herding the family toward the car so they could actually leave. And it was always Betsy who delayed the start, never able to get herself together. There was always one more thing that had to be done; one more detail she needed to attend to.

To be fair, she was like that because she was a mother. She not only had to pack for herself, she had to pack for her kids as well. She also had to anticipate what they might need on their trip, planning for any contingency. Darren was so used to packing for his road trips he had it down to a science. She only did it a couple of times a year, at that, and she was normally doing it for three people. When they took their yearly vacation to Illinois, she had to pack for them to be gone over a month.

That was a big detail. It wasn't just making sure they had clothes for unforeseeable weather that might occur; being gone for so long meant she had to see to it that the house was in order. The mail and the paper needed to be stopped. Utilities had to be paid for a month in advance so they'd still have service when the returned. Arrangements had to be made for the lawn to be cut. She made sure the water was turned off to the outside faucets. There were so many things that needed to be handled, none of which Darren fully realized. She just took care of them, because that was her role. That she was the last to the vehicle the day they were leaving may have miffed him from time to time, but she overlooked it because she knew the bigger picture.

This time was different. She'd already made arrangements for Neil to stay at a friend's house. She and Darren were only leaving for a weekend; one cut a day short because they didn't leave the night before like she'd originally planned. But mostly, she wasn't thinking like a wife and a mother. She was thinking like a woman that had no cares or responsibilities other than to play to her own whims of sexual fancy. And after the experience she'd had the night before, she thought Darren should consider himself lucky to be going along for the ride. After all, she'd told him the day before that if he wouldn't take her, she'd go alone.

She arrived at his car a minute early, much to his surprise. "Aren't you going to... change?" he asked as he opened her door, seeing up close the state of her dress, the telltale cum stains on it evident to him.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she asked pointedly, and she leaned over to get in, flashing her breast in the process.

"N... nothing... I just thought you would put on something different."

"No... this is how I hoped I'd look this morning," she said as she sat down, clutching a pillow.

"Okay," he sighed as he shut her door. Making his way to the driver side, he got in and buckled his seatbelt.

He was about to ask her to do the same, but she locked her door and placed her pillow against her window. "I'm going to take a nap on the way, Darren. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"I was hoping we could talk," he replied, starting the powerful V-8 engine.

"We can talk later," she yawned, closing her eyes. "I want to be refreshed for this afternoon. Wake me up when we get to the city."

He wondered if it was a ploy to keep him on edge. Hell, he wondered if she was actually going to tell him anything at all. She'd gone years without divulging any secrets about her life in college... the ones she shared with Paula and Carrie. He'd learned to live with that, because it had all happened before they'd met. He didn't feel the need to know. But this was different. They were happily married. And, she'd been with a man that was a customer of his.

"How the fuck does Rob DO this?" he wondered as he backed out of the driveway.

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

Betsy was animated; literally hopping up and down in her seat as they approached the city. The Washington Monument was looming over the horizon as always, announcing their proximity to the city as it grew larger with each passing mile, and for once she was actually exited to see it.

It wasn't that she didn't care about who and what the monument represented. She did have a minor in history, after all. She also appreciated the beauty of the majestic shrine itself dominating the skyline, and the skill it took laborers to build it. But there were other parts of the capital city, other monuments, that were far more incredible works of art in her mind.

It was obvious the architects of that particular monument were making a statement. To Betsy, it was one of male-dominated arrogance, as if the entire country was supposed to bow to the mighty phallic symbol it represented. After all, the most powerful men in the world supposedly worked there, and they loved to tell you about it whenever they got the chance.

Part of her cynicism was forged in the fact that everyone that visited them from out of town wanted to go to Washington DC. They wanted to see the monuments, and go to the museums. She couldn't remember how many times they'd been there, but it was well over a dozen. And each time, they had to go see the same things. It was fun in the beginning, but it became difficult to feign excitement over going to the same places over and over.

She'd been to the many Smithsonian buildings so many times she knew her way around better than a tour guide. Just once, she hoped one of their out-of-town guests would want to go to the National Art Gallery. But anyone with kids knew better, the lure of the Museum of Natural History being too hard to fight. After all, it had dinosaur bones. Or the Museum of American History, which had cars and a train.

They always went to one of the famous monuments though, but Betsy never had a problem with it. In fact, it was the only one she encouraged people to go see up close. She couldn't get over the sight of Abraham Lincoln sitting in the chair in his memorial, the words to his two most famous literary works etched on the white marble walls inside. She was torn between the grace and humility shown in the words Emancipation Proclamation, and the elegant reverence that was the Gettysburg Address. That the incredible man himself was forced to stare out for all of eternity over the famous reflecting pond, only to see Washington's enormous monumental erection looming over the National Mall seemed a bit cruel to her.

As they approached the Potomac River, suddenly the imagery the 550-foot-tall obelisk represented to her somehow seemed poetically appropriate. After all, she was there for one express purpose. She wanted to perfect the art of fellatio, taking the talents she already possessed to a whole new level. She wanted to be able to deepthroat a massive cock, taking it all the way down her throat in order to please the man it belonged to. Seeing the monument towering over the tree line, it seemed to be calling to her, announcing that she'd just arrived at the perfect destination to achieve her desires.

Darren had woken her up when the neared the city like she'd asked. Well, she didn't actually request that he finger her exposed pussy, but he couldn't resist. She'd been curled up on the bench seat, her feet actually resting on his lap as she lay down. He used the opportunity to slowly get her to spread her thighs in her sleep, and in doing so, her short dress crept up a bit, showing more of her glamorous legs.

He could see the flaky white dusting around her pubic mound, with more pronounced remnants of cum crusted around the outer edges of her labia. It was obvious a big load had slowly seeped from her pussy at some point. Most likely more than one, and that had his cock beginning to rise.

The air conditioner was making it more comfortable than it would have been driving with the windows open. Besides, unlike her car, he had that creature comfort and she expected him to pamper her whenever they drove together in it. It was a hot, steamy day, the humidity level almost as high as the temperature, both in the upper 80s. To not use the AC would have been criminal.

Driving with the windows up had given him his first indication that she hadn't been teasing with some make-believe stains on her stretched and wrinkled dress. The cum stains were undoubtedly real, which became evident once inside the closed car. She'd obviously had sex with Sam. She smelled of it. But seeing the evidence there between her legs was almost too much for him to take. He was at once jealous and horny, the two extreme emotions combating each other, fighting for control of his rational thought.

His feelings of arousal won over, his fingers lightly touching the entrance to her red, puffy cunt. He was amazed that she didn't rouse, yet her body responded. Her pussy began to open like a flower, the first hint of wetness appearing on his fingertip in seconds.

By the time they were descending the hills toward the Potomac, he had two fingers thrusting inside her, the wet squishing sounds filling the car. She gasped when she came to, her hand grasping the handle on the door. She didn't speak, instead simply lowering her right foot from his lap to the floor in front of her, opening her hips for him. It was her way of telling him he could do what he wanted, and he did, bringing her to a powerful orgasm at a stoplight in Arlington, Virginia.

She sat up after that, her eyes blinking wildly as her husband licked his fingers, a bemused smile on his face. Still she said nothing, gathering her faculties. Tossing the pillow into the seat behind her, she put on her seatbelt, but it did little to contain her excitement as she noticed the monument calling to her in the distance.

He remained quiet as well, turning on the radio to break the tension he couldn't stop feeling. He'd hoped what he'd done would have brought her out of her quiet mood. Instead it seemed to forge her strength. She sat confidently, her eyes on the road ahead; a road that took them where she wanted to go, at least to a point.

Crossing over the Potomac, he finally asked, "Where are we going?"

"To a movie," she replied quickly, her mind already on the theater, wondering what it would be like inside; how it might differ from any other movie house she'd ever been in.

"I know that, Betsy," he groaned.

"Then why did you ask?"

"I was thinking more practical than that. Do you have a reservation somewhere?"

"No. But we're staying at the Watergate Hotel."

"You know where we're staying, but you don't have a reservation."

"No, and it's a good thing too."

"And why would that be?"