Betsy - Reawakened Ch. 08

© 2020, All rights reserved - mimaster

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

It was a brilliant Saturday morning, the blue skies of Northern Virginia clear and bright. Betsy walked outside, not believing how good she felt. Yes, her body was a bit sore, but in a good way, like she'd been through a vigorous workout. In some ways she had. Certainly there was a lot of cardio involved, and she'd sweated a lot. It was hard not to think of it as some sort of exercise. The best kind... her favorite kind.

"Sure beats running," she thought as she stopped to stretch before she made her way toward the open stairwell.

Making the turn at the landing between the third and second floors, she caught sight of a small piece of rolled up paper on the concrete. It was smashed down, the one end of it charred. It was the remnants of the first fat joint she'd shared with Diane the night before while they waited for Sam to return from the convenience store across the street. Instead of coming back with pedestrian bottle of cheap wine, he returned with two bottles of a well-known high-end label, along with some cheese and crackers. But it was that joint that was suddenly speaking to her.

"I can't believe how good I feel," she said out loud as she continued down the stairs, her thoughts echoing those she'd had as she left the room.

Diane had insisted there would be no lingering ill-effects from smoking marijuana when she offered it to Betsy. True to her word, she didn't have a hangover, which she was certain would be the case after having three vodka tonics at the bar, and then a half-bottle of merlot hours later. She hadn't eaten that much, only a light salad at the bar for dinner, and some of the snack fare Sam bought on his late night run to the 7-11. Yet she'd drank a lot of alcohol for someone so petite.

While she couldn't directly attribute her lack of a pounding headache to that joint they'd had shared outside the room, or the two she'd had on her own a couple hours later when Diane handed them out to her and Sam to keep the party going, it was the only logical conclusion she could make. She hadn't taken any aspirin, and without that preventive step, the amount of alcohol she'd consumed alone would have normally had her feeling like she'd been in a prize fight.

Instead she felt incredible. The pot relaxed her to the point she didn't feel any real pain, in her head or elsewhere. While it dulled some of her senses while smoking, as Diane promised it seemed to bring out others more intensely. She'd had some of the most incredible orgasms of her life. She could still feel her clit throbbing happily as she made her way to Darren's car.

The only thing she was feeling, besides some of her muscles aching, was tired. It had been a long night with little sleep, and she was about to spend most of the rest of her weekend entertaining Sam at her home. She was trying to decide if she should go home and take a nap before he came over, or just tough it out.

She had some time to figure that out. After all, it was seven o'clock in the morning, and Sam wouldn't be coming over until sometime that afternoon. It was part of a compromise she'd made with Diane. And she'd agreed to the concession mostly because of the wager she'd made with Sam the night before.

It wasn't a wager so much as a challenge. She'd told him to show up at the bar at six o'clock sharp, and to try to pick up a woman. If he did, she'd be happy to let him have his night with her, and she'd see him the next day. Then she upped the challenge, saying if he was fortunate enough to find a woman willing to be a part of a threesome, she'd join them in their room. She never would have guessed he'd not only be successful in scoring with a beautiful woman, but it would also end up being a close friend of hers. And a friend that apparently had no issues being with another hot woman in bed.

Diane agreed to the threesome on a whim, not knowing Betsy would be the woman that would be joining them. That came as a shock for both of them, but a happy one. And they'd had an incredible night, hitting it off in more ways than one. They'd always considered themselves good friends before, but now Betsy felt they were best friends. They already had a great deal of things in common. Finding out they both loved having sex, including sex with other women, was just two more to add to the long, growing list.

It would have been easy to chalk up that new feeling of closeness to the fact they'd been intimate. It would have been easier still to use the drugs she'd smoked as an explanation. But that trivialized what they'd shared. It was a true connection, started by what they'd shared about their marriages in the bar. They both not only felt it, they acknowledged it, and that had them foraging plans for the balance of the weekend.

Betsy agreed that since she'd challenged Sam to pick up a woman, and he'd been more than successful doing it, it was only right that he and Diane should be able to finish out their night together as just the two of them. It was what would have happened had Diane not been game for the threesome, so allowing them some time alone like they'd started before she came knocking on the hotel room door seemed like the right thing to do.

With checkout time being noon, Betsy told Sam to stay and enjoy the company of her friend. He didn't know what she and Diane had agreed to in the stairwell as they shared that first monumental joint. He didn't need to know. All he needed to do was find a way to get hard again. But she was certain Diane would see to that. After all, her friend was a slut, just like she was.

"Are you sure?" he asked as he watched Betsy getting dressed.

"Of course... you lived up to your end of the bargain. You found someone to bring back to your room, and she was willing to let me be a part of the party. Don't you think she deserves some time with you alone for being such a good sport?"

"Good sport... or good slut?" Diane laughed as she lounged on the rumpled sheet of the bed.

"Both, sweetie," she replied.

"You're sure," Sam repeated, not yet convinced.

"Samuel, enjoy Diane. Give her the undivided attention she deserves. It's not like you're never going to see me again. I'll see you this afternoon."

"Okay... what time?"

"Listen to you. You're like a horny teenager. You've got a beautiful naked woman in your bed, and you're already thinking about banging the next one."

"That's not what I mean, Betsy. I just don't want to rush over if you need some time. I can find a way to occupy myself in town. Do you want me to come later tonight?"

"No... I'd rather you rush over," she snickered. "I have a feeling I'm going to need to cum again."

"I... I'm going to need some time to recover," he said nervously.

"Don't worry about that. I'll just put your mouth to good use until you can get it up again," she said sexily.

"Oh Damn! That's a great idea," Diane nodded as she spread her legs. "You're mine for the next four hours, Sam... so get busy. Eat my pussy!"

The image of Diane holding Sam's face to her juicy cunt was still in her head as she waited to turn onto the main road in front of the hotel. Finally finding an opening in traffic, which was oddly heavy for that early on a Saturday, she turned left and got into the turn lane at the stop light. Eyeing the 7-11, she could practically smell the fresh brewed coffee inside.

"Fuck it... I'll just stay awake. I'm too keyed up to sleep anyway." Making her decision, she whipped the car into the lot instead of passing it by.

Her stride was filled with confidence as she walked through the propped open door. She felt like royalty, her short dress far more pristine than the last time she was there, having taken it off instead of letting Sam fuck her several times while wearing it, or fucking her on top of it after she'd taken it off. This time she'd gotten undressed just after arriving at the room, doing it more for Diane than for Sam. It was her way of saying she was all-in when it came to what they were about to do together.

Just minutes after leaving Diane in the hotel room to have sex with a man she'd just met, Betsy could feel the gaze of Diane's son. Tony's eyes followed her throughout the store wherever she went. She was smiling, her bare back to him; the cut of her dress showing almost all of it. Pouring a steaming cup of coffee into a Styrofoam cup, she added her crème and sugar, twirling the sizzle stick to mix it up just the way she liked it. Placing on the lid, she took a sip, leaving behind an imprint from her deep red lipstick.

From there she sauntered over to the counter, picking up a package of six fresh tulips to place in the wine bottle she was now using as a makeshift vase at home.

"Good morning, Mrs. Thomas," Tony grinned, his eyes unabashedly drifting over her body, taking it all in. It was a lustful stare, but she didn't mind.

There was something about the brazenness of his leer that she found exciting. Gone was the guilt she'd experienced shortly after the last time she was there. Her feelings about him hadn't changed. He was Diane's son, and she wasn't going to cross that line. But she saw no harm in flirting with him.

"Good morning, Anthony. Please, call me Betsy."

His grin widened. "Okay, Betsy. Would you like the latest edition of Playboy... it just came in."

She laughed that he remembered all the things she bought when she showed up there exactly two weeks before. "Studying my purchasing habits... that's very good of you," she replied with a grin of her own. "I see you take your work seriously."

"Hardly. I only remember the people that stand out."

"So you're saying I stand out?"

"Let's just say I don't get a lot of people coming in here dressed like you are... looking like you do."

"And how do I look this morning?" she asked, doing another pirouette like she'd done for him the last time she visited.

He wasn't about to be shy and innocent again, mainly because, like his father, he wasn't anything like either of those two traits. He had censored his thoughts during that first encounter, thinking that was the proper decorum for talking with one of his mother's friends. Or his friend's mother, since he'd gone to high school with her son Gene. No, that first encounter practically dictated he not be as blunt as he usually was. Now that she was back, providing him another chance, he felt just as obligated to be truer to himself... like his father would if he were there.

"Well, if you want me to be honest..."

"Please. I'd hate for you to lie to an old woman. I can take the truth."

"Good, because the truth is you look damn sexy. And you're not old. You're my mother's age, and she's not old either."

Placing her hands on the counter, she leaned forward, her breasts threatening to spill out of the dress as she stared into his eyes. She wished they had, since she'd flashed one of them the previous time because her dress had been so stretched out. To his credit, his gaze never left hers; instead focusing on the way her irises sparkled in the florescent lights.

"I can't tell you how much it means to me to hear that, Anthony."

"I'm glad I could help."

She stood just as she was, drinking in his youthful aura. He was handsome, and fit. He was charming and witty. He was everything a woman would want in bed. In fact, he was excited, the bulge in his pants becoming fully evident as it grew for her. He didn't bother to hide it like he almost had the last time. Instead, he was practically showing it off. But they both knew nothing would come of it. That's why he'd mentioned his mother. It was his way of letting her know that any thoughts of taking things a step further were absurd. It was remarkable restraint for someone so young. And she found it refreshing.

"Diane raised you well," she said as she leaned back, her hands still resting on the edge of the counter.

"That's really more Keith's doing," he retorted, calling his father by his given name. "I take more after him than my mother."

"How so?"

"She's more of a... free spirit. Kind of like you."

Placing her hand on her chest, she grinned. "I'm a free spirit?"

"That's how I choose to view it. I know how she is. I know how both of my parents are. But dad shows far more self-control."

"I'm not following you, Anthony."

"I don't expect you to. I'm not being that specific. Look, Betsy... I know you and my mom are friends. And I appreciate the view you're offering. I really do... you're gorgeous. It's fun to think about."

"What's that?"

"What it would be like," he winked. "But we both know that's not happening."

"What do you think this is, Anthony? Do you think I'm coming on to you?" she grinned.

"No, I think we're flirting again. But that's all it is, and we both know it. I threw out the Mrs. Robinson thing the last time, but that's a movie, and this is real life. Your life. That's why I'm not saying anything to anyone about it... or you."

"I really don't know what you're talking about right now."

"You never answered my question about the Playboy," he stated, the change of direction in his conversation throwing her off balance. But she could see purpose in his expressive face.

Trying to follow along, she responded. "No, I didn't. And I won't need one today. Darren is out of town this weekend with Neil. They're camping."

"I figured as much." His smirk and light chuckle saying so much than his comment.

"Anthony, what the hell are you getting at?"

He reached down, taking her left hand, his thumb gently stroking where her ring should have been. "I'm certain that you're not having marital problems. I don't think you'd lie about something like that. But you're also not wearing your ring, which speaks to something, now doesn't it?"

"Oh... I just left it at home. I forgot to put it back on when I finished the dishes. It's not what you think."

"What do you think I think?"

"That I'm trying to seduce you."

"Actually, that's not what I think at all, Betsy. I told you, I know you're just flirting with me. Just like I'm flirting with you. Granted, you're doing a damn fine job of it, but that's not what I'm talking about at all."

"O... kay. What are you talking about then?"

"Well, to be frank, you smell like sex. Actually, this morning you smell like pot and sex. The last time I saw you, it was just sex."

"I smell like pot?"

"And sex."

"Anthony, are you insinuating -"

"Oh, it's not an insinuation. I'm stating for fact. You've had sex, and you've been smoking pot."

"How?" she said, more of a confession of guilt than a denial.

"You smell just like my mother does after she comes home from one of her 'girl's night out' adventures I was telling you about," he laughed, using the air quotes to make his point that he knew she'd been up to something far naughtier.

"You're kidding."

"Don't' sweat it. My dad knows. We've talked about it."

"Wait... what did you just say?"

"I told my dad what I suspected, because I didn't want him getting hurt. Turns out he knew, and it's cool. He told me about how their marriage works. They've never been happier, so why would I give a shit if they both fool around on the side. Well, other than her stealing from my stash. She also doesn't know that I know she takes my pot."

"She does?" she said, playing like she didn't know that as well.

"I'm sure Gene knows you're stealing his."

"Gene?"

"Where else would you have gotten it? I doubt you buy your own. You certainly don't get it from me?"

Confused, she said, "Why would I steal your marijuana?"

"I didn't mean that. I meant you don't buy it from me. Gene has though."

Flashing him a stern 'mom' look, she said, "So you sell drugs, and you've sold them to my son."

"Okay, I don't sell drugs... I just sell pot to a few of my friends. I'm not a dealer. I'm more of a... small local distributor. But yes, I've sold to Gene before. And don't get all righteous on me now, Betsy... you just smoked it, and you obviously got it from him."

"Well, yeah," she lied, not wanting him to know where she'd actually gotten it. And while the revelation that her oldest had used pot before came as a shock, Tony was right. After all, she'd just admitted to herself less then fifteen minutes before how much she liked it. She even used the same logic that Diane had to justify it. How could she persecute her son now that she'd done it? Unlike Diane though, she'd never found evidence that Gene had actually done anything before now. To get pissed at him was pretty hypocritical, even through a mother's eyes.

"Look, your secrets are safe with me, Betsy. If Mr. Thomas doesn't know what you're doing while he's away, although I'm pretty sure he does, then that's your business. I'm just saying that while I love looking at you dressed like you are, I'm not comfortable joining you at the hotel across the street."

She shook her head, not believing what he'd just said. "What the hell would make you say something like that?"

"Probably because I just watched you walk to your car in the hotel parking lot a little bit ago. It's not hard to put two and two together. I'm just glad you're not sneaking around on Mr. Thomas. I really like him. I like both of you. You're good people."

"Y... you saw me?" she stammered, the realization that she'd been recognized suddenly haunting her.

"Relax. It's no big deal. I'm a little surprised you'd do that in town, but I doubt anyone other than me noticed. It's only because you were in here two weeks ago, and... hey, wait a minute! Holy shit! You're fucking the Boone's Farm guy!" he laughed.

Her eyes snapped open; a panic coming over her, although she tried to cover. "What?"

Tony knew. He could tell by the look in her eyes, and that made him smile brightly. "Well I'll be damned. He was in here again last night... the guy that bought the Boone's Farm two weeks ago. And when you came in the next morning, you said you had some that night, but I didn't even think to put two and two together. He just came in again like six hours ago and got two bottles of merlot. Oh! And some snacks... no doubt because you had the munchies from the pot. Oh my god, that is so funny!"

"It's not funny, Anthony. It's anything but funny. It's actually a bit frightening."

He saw the concern on her face, and he squeezed her hand. His voice softened, and he quietly asked, "I'm not wrong about Darren, am I? Please tell me knows what you did last night."

"He doesn't know about the pot. But, yeah, he knows I was with him. It... it was actually his idea," she nodded.

"Well then you have nothing to worry about. You can trust me, Betsy. I promise."

"How do I know that?"

"Think about it. If I was the kind of jerk that would use something like this against you, I'd already be inside those wet little panties of yours, because you are tempting, and it would be incredible. And you'd let me, just to keep me quiet. But I'm not going to do that, because I'm not that kind of guy. My Dad raised me better than that. Besides, he and Mom don't know I sell pot on the side, and now you do. So, we're even when it comes to secrets... okay?"

She let out a deep sigh. "Okay, Anthony. I'll trust you."

"Good. Now relax. The coffee and the flowers are on me today."

"And the Playboy," she winked.

"Change of heart?"

"I'm a woman. One that loves sex. It's my prerogative to change my mind. It'll give Darren something to be excited about when he comes back from camping."

"I would think the idea of fucking you would be enough, but you know him better than I, obviously."

"I do."

"Look, Betsy... please, don't be a stranger now that we've talked like this. I'd hate to think you'd avoid coming in here just because you're uncomfortable."