Betsy - Reawakened Ch. 07

"I'll tell you what. Let's play a game."

"A game?"

"Sure. This is a big town. Not Charlotte big, by any stretch, but we're big for around here. And we attract a lot of tourists, especially on the weekends. So, let's have some fun."

"I want to fuck you, Betsy. That sounds fun to me."

"I know you do. You're all worked up because of it. But I promise I'll make it worth it if you'll just indulge my naughty mind tonight."

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

There was nothing appealing to her about the smoke hanging like a thick fog at the top of the room. Yes, the act of smoking could be viewed as sexy; even powerful, depending on whom was holding the actual choice of tobacco. Betsy didn't mind a man puffing on a cigar, finding that look somewhat enticing. And she viewed a man with a pipe as sophisticated. Plus, pipe tobacco or expensive cigars had an aroma she didn't really mind.

But cigarettes were different. First, there was the odor itself. She found it far more offensive to her senses, including her eyes, than other tobaccos. And she hated that the stench lingered afterwards on one's clothing. Then there was the aesthetic point of view. To her, they only looked good in the mouths of certain people, and while some men and women could actually make the act look attractive, even sexy, most couldn't pull it off.

It was a part of the time, though. There were still commercials on television for tobacco products, and magazines were more than happy to take the ad revenue they provided. And she was living in a state that made a great deal of revenue growing the product.

That didn't mean she liked them. Still, it was her choice to sit where she was, in a dimly lit bar of the hotel Sam was staying at. The same bar she'd been in just two weeks before, eschewing her husband's company for the evening in favor of the type Sam provided, which was purely sexual.

Yes, had she been so inclined to invite Darren along that night, she would have been game for a threesome. It was what he had told Sam she wanted after she left the house, getting her signals wrong. Knowing the size of Sam's penis, it would have made for a memorable night. But she ended up having one anyway. And it was that night that had directly led to why she was sitting in that high seat at a tall table in the corner, alone.

It was just after five o'clock in the afternoon, right in the middle of the incorrectly named 'happy hour' that ran from four to seven every night but Sunday. Sam had already checked into his hotel room before coming to the house, just like the last time. But they were hours before their late-night dinner reservations. He wrongly assumed that would mean she'd be up for an afternoon of fucking. He was even hopeful that she'd stave off the idea of eating in the restaurant altogether, liking the notion of room service in its stead.

But Betsy had other ideas. She was quick to jump into bed with Sam the first time they were together. Well, on the bed, landing on her back so he could plow into her wet pussy with his thick shaft. But she'd also had a few hours to work him up that night, the playful teasing at the house with her in the nude being followed by drinks and then dinner. They may have gotten right to it once they got inside his room, but she felt the preamble to their night of carnal deviance was part of what made it so incredible.

Knowing this time that they had a great deal of time to kill before dinner, and their options limited because she didn't want to parade around town with another man, she had to come up with a way to appease Sam while still giving them both an opportunity to percolate a bit. So, she sucked his cock upon arriving at his room, showing off the new oral skills she'd learned since she was with him last. Then, once he was hard again, she came up with a way to make him work a bit in order to bed her a second time.

She did that by telling him he needed to try to bed someone else first.

"What?" he asked at the time upon hearing her proposal.

"I want to see you in action."

"In action... in the bar?"

"I don't want you to fuck there. I want to see how you go about picking up women."

"You mean you?"

"Eventually. Maybe."

"Betsy, that doesn't make any sense."

"It's only five o'clock, Sam. We have all night. And if what Darren said is true, we have all of tomorrow and a big part of Sunday too. Is that right?"

"Well, yeah. I was going to leave Sunday afternoon. I know I'll get home late that night, but traffic heading back into the city will be a bear anyway, so the later I go, the better it will actually be toward the end."

"And he and Neil won't be home until late Sunday night. So, that means we'll have plenty of time together."

"So, what exactly are you proposing, then?"

"I'm not really sure, but I have an idea."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to hate this?" he laughed.

"You're only feeling that way because you know it means I'm not going to do anything with that beautiful hard cock of yours right now. But like I said, I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Okay, so what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to wait here for a bit. I'm going to go down to the bar and get myself a drink. My husband says that tonight, I'm a single woman on the town," she laughed, flashing her bare ring finger, her diamond wedding band still safely on the counter in her kitchen because Darren wouldn't let her put it back on after he discovered her washing the dishes when he brought Sam home. He felt it was fate that she wasn't wearing it; the perfect way for him to give his wife to his client for the weekend.

Sam looked at her hand, and the wicked smirk on her gorgeous face. The sparkle in her eyes made his cock pulse in front of her, and she noticed. "Okay, you're single," he nodded, trying to embrace her game.

"I'm also horny, and as you already know, I'm a slut, so I'm more than willing to fuck the right guy. But you're going to have to work your magic to get me back up here. That is unless you happen to score with someone else before that."

"What does that mean?"

"Before you try and pick me up, you have to try and get someone else up here."

"What?"

"I promised Darren I'd be with you this weekend. In fact, you heard him. He told me I have to as part of the deal you signed."

"Betsy, you know he was just -"

"Sssshh. Don't you dare ruin this for me," she winked.

"Okay," he replied sheepishly.

"Sam, you know I want to be here, but I also have to, because Darren told me so. In my mind, I don't have a choice right now, which is how this needs to be for me to make it work in my head."

"Ooookay," he replied nervously. "But what does any of that have to do with what you were just talking about."

"Like I said, I'm going to be with you this weekend. I promise. But that doesn't mean you can't have someone else too. I'm going to go down to the bar right now and you're not going to come down until six. By then the place will be hopping on a Friday night. I want you to show up, order yourself a drink and make an attempt to pick up someone else, just like you did in Charlotte."

"And if I do?"

"If you do, then that's good for you! Fuck her pretty little brains out. I'm going to drive around front and come into the main entrance of the restaurant. You'll come in the back way like any guest staying here would. If you're lucky and you find a woman you want to fuck, and she wants to fuck you, I'll just go home and wait for you show up tomorrow."

"So, I'm just supposed to drive over to your house?"

"Why not? You have a car, don't you?"

"Well, yeah. But won't it seem suspicious to your neighbors to have a strange car in your driveway all weekend?"

"You've seen my house, Sam. No one can really see my carport. That's why I was out there naked the first time you met me. I knew I'd be safe there. But if someone does happen to drive down to the cul-de-sac to turn around, it shouldn't seem suspicious because the other car is Darren's, not mine."

"Huh. I hadn't thought of that."

"Darren obviously did. That's why he wanted us to take his car. The camping gear would have fit in his. It's a bit of a pain, so using the station wagon makes a lot more sense, but he's never let me drive his car before."

"Technically, you didn't tonight either."

"True, but I will eventually, whether it's tonight because you find a woman to bring back to the room, or tomorrow morning when we leave. You didn't think you were going to leave yours at the hotel all weekend, did you? You're spending the rest of the weekend at my house."

"I guess I didn't think about any of this stuff."

"That's because you're just a horny man. I'm the slut, remember? We're the ones have to plan these things out if we want to have our fun!"

"Yeah, right," he laughed. "Your husband set this up."

"True again. He's apparently encouraging my slutty side. Who am I to argue? But he didn't make any arrangements, other than telling me my job is to fuck you this weekend. Lucky for you, one of my strengths is making things up as I go. So, are you up for this, or not?"

"Okay, I guess I can try. But I have to tell you, I was really looking forward to waking up next to you in the morning."

"Don't you mean sometime during the night," she smiled, thinking of how he'd done that twice the last time they were together.

"Yeah, that too."

That image actually appealed to her. Here she was, horny beyond belief, and for the sake of some game, she was willingly passing up an opportunity to fuck him so he might fuck someone else. It didn't make much sense since she had her husband's blessing. The first time they were together just kind of happened, although Darren was totally on board. But this time he had actually set it up. It oddly seemed wrong not to stay there. Especially when she had to admit the idea of being in a hotel with another man gave her an intense thrill.

"Tell you what. If you're able to find someone to come back to the room with you, I'll stick around for a while. If you're back in the bar before our dinner reservation, I'll stay. If not, come eight o'clock, I'm heading home for the night. I wouldn't want you to shortchange the woman you pick up. You obviously know what you're doing once you get them alone."

"What makes you say that?"

"You slept with five different women in a little over a week. A couple of them came back for more. That kind of speaks for itself, doesn't it?"

"I suppose."

"Aw, of course it does, hon."

"This seems like a lot of work," he laughed.

"Good pussy should never be easy, Sam. Men should have to work for it."

"I know. And that's just the thing. If I'm not going down to the bar until six, I don't see me back in the room before seven, or seven-thirty. I'm still learning how to do this. Maybe the women in North Carolina were just loose."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that I don't want to rush things with a woman once we're in the room, if I'm even lucky enough to get one up there at all. You leaving at eight won't give me a lot of time."

"I can't wait forever, Sam. I'm going to get hungry. And unlike you, I'll be horny, but all alone. I'm going to want to go home and get myself off."

"You see. That seems like a waste."

"Hmm... okay, how about this as a compromise? I'm not going to change my mind on the time. But I'll give you a chance to up the ante." He gave her a puzzled look, and she knew she'd lost him. "I'll give you a chance at that threesome Darren alluded to the last time you were here. Only instead of me with two men, it could be you... with two women."

"Are you serious?"

"If she's is up for it... it wouldn't be the first time I've had sex with another woman in the room."

"It wouldn't?"

She winked and said, "Sammy, I'm a slut. I thought we'd pretty much established that already. It wouldn't be the first time I had sex with a woman, if she's into that."

That confession was enough for Sam to agree to her proposal, even if the odds weren't in his favor. In fact, she gave him a one in ten chance of getting laid by someone other than her. And she figured it was more like one in a hundred that any woman he might meet would agree to a threesome. Nevertheless, she agreed to slightly different terms just in case. She told him if he left the bar with another woman, she would dutifully wait for ninety minutes. After that, if he didn't come back to the bar, she'd ring his room to find out if she were to make an appearance or not.

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

Betsy was nursing her vodka and tonic around five-thirty, the familiar friend providing a buzz that both relaxed her and made her excited at the same time. She had a warm sensation deep inside her chest, and a wet one between her legs.

She'd been approached by a couple of men, both wanting to buy her drinks. She politely declined. While she didn't have the protection of a ring on her finger, she doubted it would have prevented them from approaching if she'd been wearing it. She was alone in a bar for a reason, dressed for something more daring than a cocktail. It wasn't hard for them to assume it might be cock that interested her instead.

She had just started her second drink when a striking black-haired woman entered the bar. She was on the tall side, close to 5'7", but standing even taller in her black heels. She was dressed to the nines, the chic dark-green evening dress clinging to her voluptuous body, her large bosom nearly spilling out of the low-cut top. The top was off the shoulder, and there was a slit up one side that showed off a long, sexy leg; her dark olive skin in sharp contrast to the dress. Her exotic complexion shimmered in the dim light, the reflection dancing along her collarbone like sparkles as she floated into the room. She raised her hand unnecessarily to get the bartenders attention. She had the eye of every man in the room... and at least one of the women.

"Oh, shit... its Diane," Betsy gasped, suddenly in fear. She hadn't expected to see anyone there she actually knew. Worse yet, it was a close friend... Diane was the mother of Tony, her oldest son Gene's classmate when they were in high school together. Tony also happened to be the young man she'd not-so-innocently flirted with just two weeks before at the 7-11, which was directly across the street from the hotel complex where she was sitting.

There was little chance she wouldn't be seen. After all, Betsy had chosen a prominent table for which to sit, wanting to be able to see Sam in action. Given that fact, she had little time to prepare for the encounter she knew was sure to come. Taking a quick sip of her drink, she took a deeper breath afterward, allowing her mind to clear.

It was one of her strengths; the ability to think fast on her feet. Betsy had always been the type to remain calm in a crisis, using her guile and her sharp mind to her advantage. Darren had always marveled at her skill at making things up as they went along. It was part of her inventiveness, and her willingness to adapt.

Looking at the back of her hand again, she saw her biggest issue to overcome. Her wedding ring was still on the counter at her house. Diane knew she was married. She and her husband Keith were in their bridge club, along with ten other couples. They were familiar enough with each other that whatever reasoning she came up with for being in a hotel bar without her wedding ring would need to be good. Otherwise Diane would see right through it.

Deciding to meet the fear head on, Betsy raised her hand as soon as Diane glanced in her direction, martini glass in her hand. When she saw the shocked reaction on her friends' face, she knew she had the upper hand, whether it had a ring on it or not.

Motioning her over, she watched Diane take a big gulp of her drink, trying to find the nerve. She became flushed, her neck and upper chest shimmering from the flash sweat that ran through her. She slowly made her way to the table, walking like she was trying to find an escape route instead of greeting a close friend.

"Hey, Diane... what are you doing here?" she asked, pointing at the empty chair next to her as an invitation to join her.

Instead, she just stood next to the tall table, staring nervously at the round wooden top. "Hi Betsy. I'm... just having a drink."

"Dressed like that?" she asked, knowing she wouldn't have gotten herself all dolled up just to go out for a martini. The way she had her long, dark hair pulled up to show off her graceful neckline and dangling earrings told her that wasn't the case.

Taking the olive out of her glass, setting it and the tiny sword that was skewering it onto a napkin, she downed the rest of her martini in one big gulp. Raising the glass, she called out to the barkeep for another one.

"Holy shit Diane, are you okay?"

She smiled, holding the plastic sword between her forefinger and her thumb, her bright red nails standing out. Popping the olive off, she chewed a couple of times, gathering her thoughts as she eyed her friend, trying to judge the situation. Diane liked Betsy, a lot. In fact, of all the women in their bridge group, she felt closest to her. While she couldn't put her finger on it exactly, she always felt they shared a kindred spirit of sorts.

"I'm fine. How are you?" she asked, wondering if she'd get off that easy, but knowing she wouldn't.

True to that thought, Betsy leaned forward and asked again in a concerned voice. "Seriously, Diane, are you okay?"

"Yes. I just didn't expect to see someone I knew here. Thank God it's you, though."

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

The bartender brought the second martini, setting it on the table. Diane picked it up as she sat down, crossing her legs like Betsy, her shapely lower-left limb now fully exposed almost all the way to her hip.

"Can we talk, Betsy? I mean, really talk."

"Sure. What's on your mind? You seem troubled."

"No, I'm not troubled. I'm just careless, that's all. Foolish to think I could do this here and not get caught."

"So, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Probably, but not exactly. I'm pretty sure you're already in the neighborhood, though" she grinned. "Look, there's no problem between me and Keith, if that's what you're wondering."

"But you're here, dressed like that. And Keith is..."

"Out of town. And now I wish I was too."

"You're going to have to be more open than that, Diane."

"Well that's the thing. We are... open, I mean." She took a small sip, moaning at the taste before setting the glass back down. She'd gauged Betsy's reaction to what she'd just said. Her intuition finding no reason to stop, she forged ahead. "I hope I can trust you, Betsy. Something tells me I can. I don't know what it is, but you've always made me feel comfortable talking to you about anything. I'm praying I'm not wrong about that now."

"Well, based on what you just said, I take it that you and Keith have some kind of... arrangement."

Diane smiled and nodded. "I knew you'd understand."

"I'm not sure I understand, but I understand, if you know what I mean."

"We have an open marriage. We always have. Well, not always, I guess. But it's been a long time. He goes on his business trips and does his thing. I do mine a little closer to home. But I've never done it this close, and now I'm regretting it."

"Why, because I'm here?"

"Well, yeah. And if you're here, it makes me wonder who else might see me."

"What, having a drink with a friend?" she smiled, putting her to ease.

"I can say that now, but we both know that's not why I'm here."

"Okay, so why are you here?"

"I don't know. Lazy, I guess. I usually go out of town. There are a couple of bars I go to, and a club. But I've been in a bit of a rut of late. I keep meeting the same type of guys over and over. I was bored with the idea of another one. So I decided to change the scenery. There are so many tourists in this area, and people passing through in general, I guess that I figured I'd meet an anonymous stranger. I didn't think the first person I'd see would be someone that lives here. It's obvious now I didn't really think this through very well. I see this place and think hotel. And the restaurant is so expensive, we never come here. But I thought the bar... well, I guess it never occurred to me to think of it being for locals too. That seems pretty stupid now."