Betsy - Reawakened Ch. 08

Still, she didn't object, even when he ripped her stockings pawing at her thighs. She wanted to look used when it was all said and done. She just wondered how she'd look the next day. After all, they were really just beginning, and this was far more aggressive than she'd envisioned. Yet somehow it was exactly what she wanted. It might have even been what she needed.

He gripped her bare breast with his meaty hands, fingers digging into her skin much like she'd done to his upper back. She could feel the nails clawing, and she bucked into him, her heels digging into his hips. He responded by twisting a nipple so hard she thought it might have been ripped off. And with that, she came again.

So did Sam, with a deafening roar, his mouth literally spitting saliva as he announced his exploding climax to the world.

"FUUCCKKK YOUUUU CUUNNNNNT!"

"YES! CUM IN MY SLUTTY CUNT YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

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

Betsy was by the open bathroom window again, another joint in her hand. It was her second of the night. She was trapping the smoke in her filled lungs, trying to hold her breath for as long as possible. Her exhale was slow and sexy, and she felt that way.

Turning, she saw the whore staring back at her in the mirror. She was almost unrecognizable compared to the striking auburn-haired beauty that stood there hours before.

It started with her hair. Her majestic mane was now a mess. No longer pulled up high, the long, silky locks appearing ratted and tangled from being yanked and twisted for what seemed like hours.

Her sexy outfit was in tatters. She was still wearing the corset, but it was ripped beyond repair. Her panties were long gone, torn from her body like paper wrapping on Christmas morning. The garter belt was stretched to the point she doubted it could be salvaged. Her stockings now had more holes than a golf course; the left one sagging to her knee, having nothing left to hold it up any higher.

And that was just the packaging. The prize beneath had been abused in ways she never imagined, or intended. For someone in control, and she had been, she certainly looked like she'd let things get out of hand. Perhaps encouraging Sam's darker side wasn't a good idea after all. Then again, the smile on her face confessed a different story.

Her neck and chest were covered with hickeys. It seemed hard to find a place he hadn't bitten and sucked her skin. The same could be said for the inside of her thighs, a payback for her making him suck her pussy... filled with his cum.

She had forced him to eat her out after they fucked. Well, not forced. But she insisted strongly, and while he was hesitant at first, he got into the way she reacted. When she came, he got lost in the moment, to the point that he left behind a trail of blemishes to make sure anyone that arrived in that place later would know he'd been there. She was certain he was trying to leave behind a hickey directly on her clit the way he latched onto it and wouldn't let go. She had to yank him by the hair to finally get him to release it.

"Fuck, that felt great," she sighed in the mirror, thinking about how much it hurt, combined with the intense pleasure he'd given her while doing it.

She turned slightly, looking at her ass. "But that was probably a bad idea," she admitted, looking at how her cheeks were still glowing. The deep red of her skin was hot to touch. "I'm going to be feeling that for days."

It probably was not going to become true, but the sentiment was accurate. After he'd eaten her, she told him she wanted another stiff drink. He made her another vodka tonic, extra heavy on the alcohol, while he slugged down another beer as they recovered.

Betsy had intended to play a sexy game of pool with him, thinking it would be a nice respite between fucks, but Sam had other ideas. Eyeing her as she bent her body over the table, slowly swaying back and forth while lining up for a shot, using her sexy ass as a way to tease him... to entice him, he became enraged with lust. Moving up quickly, he pounced, pressing her chest into the green fabric as he thrust his cock deep into her gaping pussy. He fucked her like that for a few minutes; her torso pinned against the hard top, before he pulled out and jammed his cock fully into her ass in a brutal lunge.

She screeched at the top of her lungs, fighting back tears, her asshole burning from being stretched by his thickness in such a violent way. Just as quickly, that pain gave way to exquisite pleasure as her body relaxed and accepted his uninvited invasion. To that end she began bitching about how he should have warned her if he wanted to fuck her ass. He snipped back that it was what she obviously wanted by bending over the way she had over her last shot.

They bickered back and forth like angry lovers, both unsure if it was a role they were playing, or if it was more real than either of them cared to admit. It wasn't like they were going past the boundaries she had set from the start. Yet there was more passion in that aggressive fuck than either of them expected, even if it was in the form of their irate squabbling.

Still, it was stunning to her when things escalated further. Sam was pounding away, cursing at her, calling her names. She was giving it right back, trying to enrage him, loving how he responded when she got under his skin with one of her sarcastic barbs. She wasn't sure where it was all coming from. She never acted that way with Darren. And she really hadn't during their times with their friends on the sexy vacations they took together. All she knew was the more she ragged on Sam, the harder he fucked her. And the harder he fucked her, the more she loved it. The twist came when he caught site of something on the wall to his left.

Darren had purchased the pool table because he felt it would be the perfect fit for the recreation room he envisioned. But it was not without some debate. The boys had wanted a ping-pong table instead, and lobbied heavily for it. Betsy was in their corner, since that would be much cheaper. Not to mention easier to get into the basement.

When her husband found a used pool table that a friend was willing to sell for a ridiculously low price just to get rid of it, they reached a compromise. He told his family he would make it work for everyone. So it was that he ordered a ping-pong table top that could be placed over a pool table. It secured in place with pegs that fit into the corner pockets. It was actually sturdier than a normal ping-pong table; it was easy to take on and off, and it was relatively inexpensive. It also took up less space than if they had to buy a separate ping-pong table to make everyone happy. It was the perfect solution.

That is until Sam picked up one of the paddles off the shelf.

The first shot to her right ass cheek produced a scream. It was more from the shock of it than how much it hurt. Sam had been firm, but playful. But it lit a spark inside her that had been long dormant.

Yes, they were pretending to be going at each other. The verbal abuse was all just for effect and they both knew it. It was a way to fuel the sexual fire between them. She'd ruled out lovemaking and passion for their time together, insisting they fuck; so the emotion was replaced with aggression. With the sound and the sting of the paddle against her tight ass, things intensified.

"HARDER!" she growled, as he hit her lightly on the other cheek. He began fucking her with a more energy, thinking that's what she meant, but she corrected him. "PADDLE ME HARDER, YOU FUCKER!"

It wasn't what he expected to hear, but he wasn't going to argue. He began swatting her ass, trying to find the feel for what she wanted. He'd pound her ass with his cock, and then every once in a while he'd use the paddle on one of her cheeks. She began bucking back into him, trying to force his cock deeper. And she continued to demand that he hit her with the instrument in his hand, wielding it like a crop on a racehorse.

Worming her hand between her legs, she felt how wet she'd become. It brought her back to an old boyfriend in college. It was her first experience with a man that liked to spank, and she remembered being oddly turned on by it. He fucked her much like Sam was doing now; wild and forceful, taking her body... and with it her mind.

She began fingering her clit furiously, and as her climax approached, she began clenching the walls of her ass, gripping at Sam's thick shaft, milking him with each stroke. He came shortly after she did. It was unceremonious, nothing more than a man emptying his balls into a whore's ass. At least that's how she looked at it, and that thought made her tingle even hours later.

Pulling out, he paddled her several more times. In fact, he spanked her for a good five minutes, all the while with her telling him she wanted more, even though her tears. Now, she wondered if that was such a wise idea. It was just like her to get caught up in the moment.

"Too late now," she sighed before taking another long drag on the joint. Holding her breath, she waited until her lungs burned before slowly exhaling out the window. "It was worth it," she nodded, unable to think that what she'd let him do to her as a bad thing. After all, he never went soft. Then again, she'd dropped to her knees to suck him, wanting to keep him that way.

She smiled thinking of the look on Sam's face, watching her take his full cock into her mouth, not believing she'd do such a thing after where it had just been. But she simply winked and asked, "What, you've never been with a real whore before?"

The next thing she knew, she was on all fours in the middle of the floor; an old, thick blanket thrown over the linoleum tile for the illusion of comfort. He was slamming his rock-hard shaft into her pussy again, and she simply allowed him to do whatever he wanted with her. He discarded the paddle, instead using his hand to spank her whenever he wanted to assert his control. And that was the odd thing. He knew he didn't really have any.

Sam knew she was letting him do this to her; that she could stand up and put an end to it any time she wanted. His control was fleeting, at best, because he'd never go against her wishes. That she had ever considered having sex with him to begin with was beyond anything he could imagine. It was a privilege. And he'd agreed from the outset that if she said no to something, or to stop, he would instantly and be thankful for what they'd already done.

No, he wasn't in control, no matter what he was acting like in that moment. It was all an illusion. She was the one that had the power, in more ways than one. How else could you explain a woman with such self-confidence that she would allow herself to be used the way she was, all the while knowing that she could turn the tables and make him do something outrageous, like eating his cum from her pussy, and he'd do it without hesitation just to please her.

Still, the confidence she gave him, allowing him to feel like he was calling the shots made his chest swell. She'd done more for his self-esteem in just two encounters than he'd gotten his entire lifetime. He felt like a man, and it had nothing to do with the way he was fucking her. It was all about how they interacted, reading each other, that made him realize he'd shortchanged himself all those years with his ex-wife. There were more women like Betsy and Diane out there in the world, making sex come alive... and it gave him hope that he could find that happiness too when he returned to New York.

Finishing her joint, she flushed the butt again. Closing the window, she lit a candle to cut down the smell, not wanting to run the exhaust fan all night.

She took a brush to her hair, cringing as she hit a tangle, the follicles on her scalp a bit raw. "He really had a hold of me," she giggled as she worked the brush through the knot, finally getting it free.

Toward the end of that last fuck... their third of the night, Sam had grabbed hold of her hair, twisting it into a ponytail before using it like a rein. Her head jerked back, but instead of screaming in pain, she yelled how much she loved it. Yes, it hurt, but that too reminded her of so many primal things she'd done with that one guy in college. He was a bastard of a boyfriend on pretty much every level, which was why she broke it off with him after just a month. But it took that long to do it because of how he could make her cum.

"That boy could fuck," she sighed longingly at the recollection.

A wry smile on her face, Betsy saw the similarities in what she was doing with Sam. She loved that it was raw and emotionless. It was something she didn't have with Darren because of their feelings toward each other; the love and history they shared. Sam was just a tool to her, his thick, fleshy cock the perfect plaything. That he had manhandled her wasn't something she necessarily sought out, but it was certainly an incredible side-benefit to her night.

She could still feel the way his hands had gripped at her breasts, toying with her nipples. One hand was gripping her hair, moving her head about wildly. The other was abusing her right tit and ass cheek. She was ridden, and her pussy was still twitching over an hour later because of it. Although that was partly from his cum, still oozing down the inside of her thighs.

"I should have made him lick that up," she smiled as she made her way to her bed at two in the morning. "Then again, we'd probably still be going at it if I had, and I really need some sleep."

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

Betsy was humming happily in the kitchen, even as the rain and dreary skies threatened to dampen the mood.

She'd awakened around eight, feeling revived and refreshed. It was a strange reaction on a morning that seemed specifically designed to make one wish they could simply stay in bed. And with the house to herself, what with her husband and sons away, she could have. But she knew she had company in another bedroom; company that she suddenly couldn't get out of her mind.

Rising, she was once again stunned at just how good she felt. She'd had three strong vodka tonics, which combined with the low-pressure weather system that was obviously hovering nearby, would normally have given her the beginnings of a debilitating migraine. But the pot she'd smoked the night before, particularly the fat one she'd had just before going to bed, appeared to have taken the edge off. It was the only explanation, since she'd forgotten again to take any aspirin.

She seriously considered having another joint to start her morning, but she decided against it. After all, she wasn't sure what to expect now that it was raining. While she doubted it would happen, there was every possibility that Darren might decide to come home sooner than he'd told her he would. She expected him around six for dinner, knowing he'd want to have some time at home on the weekend before having to gear up for work the next morning.

That he wasn't going on the road that week was the reason he decided to take Neil camping in the first place, so she knew he wouldn't hurry home, especially since he knew what she was doing. Hell, she was doing it on his insistence, which was what made it so hot for her. While the rain might bring with it a change of plans, she was certain she still had more time. There was no way Darren would come home unannounced with Neil under those circumstances. But it wouldn't have surprised her if he called to say he was on the way.

Putting that aside, she put on another plain dress; more of a summery frock. This one a pale blue, it was thin and sleeveless, and it fit snugly against her body, hugging her shapely curves. She sucked in her breath as she first felt the fabric rubbing against her tender bottom, but she stuck with her choice of wardrobe anyway, loving how it made her look. Instead it became a constant reminder of just what Sam had done to her the night before. So was the one hickey that was visible out of the dozens upon dozens he'd marked her with. It was large, already a deep purple, and it was very conspicuous on her neck. At least it was if she wore her hair up like she had to start the night before. With her hair down, it at least partially covered most of the time.

She wasn't ashamed, although she wondered what Neil might say if he saw it. She needed to keep that from happening somehow. She just wasn't sure how.

That problem was still hours away though. It was only a quarter to nine in the morning, and the more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed that Darren would come home early. It wasn't a heavy rain. It was light, but steady. He'd been camping in much worse conditions with the boys. They were hardy men that enjoyed the outdoors. Well, Gene did. Neil didn't care for it as much, but he wasn't going to show that to his father, because he loved being with him.

Regardless, she felt confident that she still had until five with Sam. She'd knocked on his door and woken him when she left her room, telling him to get a shower and meet her for breakfast... but again, he was to show up naked. She cooked eggs and bacon, along with some home style potatoes. There was coffee brewing and bread waiting to be popped in the toaster when he came out from down the hall, his cock already hard.

She smiled when she saw him, her eyes falling to his erection like a man staring at tits. It was part of her rules, and she loved that he was ready for her.

"I'm surprised you're that worked up this morning. I thought I'd fucked that thing hard enough yesterday that it might fall off," she quipped.

"Not yet. But I'm willing to give you another try if you'd like," he replied as he sat down.

"I think I'll take you up on that, Sam. I'm pretty sure you owe me a few more orgasms before you leave."

"Yours, or mine?" he wondered innocently, thinking of the way she almost greedily was trying to make him cum for her.

She didn't think the question was odd at all, simply answering, "Both silly. Now eat up. You need your strength if you're going to satisfy my desires today."

"Hmm, so today they're your desires," he laughed, recalling how she'd said just the opposite the day before.

"I'm sure they're the same, sweetie. But won't it be fun finding out?"