Betsy - Reawakened Ch. 10

© 2021, All rights reserved -- mimaster

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

"Mom?" Neil called out as he walked down the hallway from his bedroom, heading toward the family room in the front of the house.

Betsy was in the kitchen, having just pulled out some cinnamon rolls from the oven, the sweet smell wafting throughout the house. It was usually a treat, and a ploy, she used to get him up on Sunday mornings for church, almost always with great success. That she'd baked them on a Monday morning was unusual. Then again, Neil hadn't been home over the weekend, having gone camping with his father.

She was busy spreading the icing on the rolls when he made his way into the room.

"Mom?"

"Good morning, sweetie. How did you sleep?"

"Good. Why are you making rolls? It's not Sunday," he asked, knowing the weekly routine, but not of the ulterior motive normally associated with it.

"Because you didn't get any yesterday," she smiled as she moved the plate of eight warm pastries to the dinette table, setting it in the middle. "And because I love you."

"I love you too," he responded happily as he plopped down in his seat, waiting patiently for her to bring him a plate. He'd already grabbed a paper napkin from the holder, putting it on his lap. Seconds later the plate and a glass of milk were set in front of him. "Thanks, mom."

"You're welcome, Neil. You can have three."

"Can I have the center one?" he asked. It was always his favorite. Betsy would bake them in a round pan, seven of them surrounding one placed in the middle. That one was always the plumpest, and it wouldn't have the outside crust all the others would have. It was his favorite, but he always felt compelled to ask permission before just taking it.

"Of course," she grinned as she took off her apron. She sat down across from him with a strong cup of coffee, wincing a bit when her ass hit the hard seat of the chair.

It was a vivid reminder of what she'd endured over her weekend. From the paddling and spanking she'd received from Sam, her naughty houseguest, to the reciprocal discipline Darren had given her when they fucked as part of reclaiming his wife; her ass was bruised and sore. Most of her body was, but she reveled in that feeling of being well-used. It was the sweet reward of being a true slut, and it had been a long time since she'd been able to relish in that experience.

Too long.

Neil was on his second roll when he noticed the large bruise on his mother's neck, right at the junction of her shoulder. "What's that?" he asked.

"It's not polite to point, Neil. And elbows off the table. You're home now, not off in the woods. Remember your manners, please."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry. I know it's hard to come back after doing all that man-stuff you and your father must have been doing," she said as she peered over her coffee cup. "I'm sure there was a lot of spitting and farting going on."

Neil cackled at his mom's assertion. He thought it was cool that his mother was unlike any of those of his friends. She was a refined lady, but she was also very open and down to earth. He was closer to her because of it, and that made her easy to talk to about anything.

His curiosity wasn't quelled and he repeated his question, this time without pointing. "What's that on your neck?"

"It's called a hickey. It's a type of bruise."

"What happened?"

"Your father got a little carried away last night."

"Huh?"

"It happened during our alone time last night. It's mushy stuff, Neil."

"Oh," he replied, knowing it had something to do with kissing and affection. He was still too young to understand sex, but he'd already begun an infatuation with girls, even at eleven. He was so much more mature than his older brother had been at that age. He would turn twelve in just a few months, but sometimes Betsy thought he was already a teenager of a couple of years. Still inquisitive, he asked, "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why did dad do that to you?"

"Because I wanted him to. I like it when he misses me like that. If you want any more answers about it, you'll need to ask him."

Neil knew his mother wasn't trying to hide anything. She almost always answered those kinds of questions for him. He didn't realize the reasons why, necessarily, but he seldom got shut down.

Betsy, and Darren for that matter, were very open with Neil when it came to the relationship dynamics between a man and a woman. More than they had been with Gene; it was different with him being eight years older. Some of it was just being better, more experienced parents. A lot of it came from their own relationship, and how it had evolved the last four years. Ever since that initial naughty vacation with their friends in Chicago, they decided not to hide who they were. Shielding Neil from the X-rated part of their life was important, but denying that they were sexual seemed foolish. They wanted him to be more confident with the opposite sex than Gene had turned out to be.

In that regard, Betsy made a choice that morning not to try and hide that particular hickey. She actually had dozens of them all over her body, but that particular one was going to be damn near impossible to conceal. It was too large, and it was going to last a long time. With it being the beginning of summer, she had no intention of covering up for the length of time it would take for it to fade away. Instead she decided to be open with it from the start, believing being honest would provide the best explanation.

Neil understood her comment about having to get the rest of the details, if he really wanted to know, from his father. His parents did an incredible job of sharing the parental duties. There were times, like this one, where Betsy would defer an answer, telling Neil that there were certain things that were going to be better explained from a man's perspective. He was easily able to accept that.

"Okay," he shrugged. "Hey, mom?"

"Yes?" she smiled sweetly.

"Why is the tent up?" he wondered, finally getting around to asking the question that was on his mind when he walked out of his bedroom.

"Pardon?"

"The tent. It's up... in the backyard."

It was only a question of when Neil would notice it. Darren hadn't had time to take it down before he left for work that morning. With all of three of the bedrooms being in the back of the house, each one had a window or two that faced the backyard. If Neil hadn't looked out to see what kind of a day he was waking up to, he would have noticed it as soon as he went outside to play, or if they left to go somewhere.

Betsy played ignorant to the circumstances that led to it being pitched in the middle of the night, in a downpour. Instead she used the same logic she'd just used a moment before.

"I couldn't tell you, Neil. Must be a man thing. Maybe you should ask your dad tonight when he comes home."

"Okay," he shrugged.

"Finish your breakfast. We have our first lesson today."

"Really!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Yes. And we'll have to remember to thank your dad for that tonight, too!"

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

Darren's mind was fuzzy. He felt incredible, but he was struggling with his surroundings. Not to mention what was happening to him.

He wanted to stretch his body, the instinct to move his muscles in a way to revive them being a strong one. He had fight off that desire, fearful that the woman that was sucking his cock to life might suddenly stop. That or he might wake up from the erotic dream he must have been having.

It turned out not to be a dream. Betsy was back in the tent. It was just after dawn, the unrelenting storm that had battered the area having finally moved toward the coast, leaving behind a damp start to what was going to be a glorious day in the Shenandoah valley.

The morning sun had yet to crest the over the mountain range to the east, but it was becoming light outside. Betsy knew that Darren didn't have an alarm clock to help wake him, and she would have felt responsible if he didn't make it to work on time, having forced the issue by telling him he had to sleep in the tent overnight.

It wouldn't have been that big of a deal if he'd slept in. After all, he was in charge of the district. It wouldn't have been the first time he rolled in after what he considered his starting time of eight o'clock. But never on a Monday. He always wanted to be there to see his driver's off for the week, especially if it was one when he wasn't going on the road himself. Betsy wouldn't have forgiven herself if she didn't do what she could to make sure he woke up on time. And what better way for a confirmed slut to do that than to use her talented mouth.

Darren's hand reached into the sleeping bag, two of them opened up and zipped together to make one larger one. Finding the top of her head, he patted her hair lovingly. She pulled off long enough to say, "Good morning, sweetheart."

"Good morning, slut," he replied to her favor. She let out a gleeful moan around his shaft as she pushed his foreskin down further, exposing his huge, sensitive head. His responding moan as she licked around the tip made her giggle.

"I love being your slut."

"I'm thinking you love being anyone's slut."

"I do... as long as I get to be with you when I'm done playing. I couldn't be like this if you didn't love me like you do after I've been naughty."

She crawled up his body, slipping her leg over his torso. Seconds later, she'd sank her sore cunt over his manhood, feeling his width stretch her perfectly.

"Fuck, you fill me up so much, Darren."

She held herself still, using the walls of her pussy to grip at his shaft. Pushing up with her hands on the lumpy terrain underneath the tent, she allowed her eyes to focus, finding his.

A sly grin appeared, the inquisitive look in her stare belying what she was doing to him with her body. "What?" he finally asked, knowing she had a question on her mind.

"Did you like it?"

"Did I like what... fucking you in the tent?"

"Ha! No. I know you love that. It's me, and I'm a slut, so what's not to love about that," she teased. "Did you like the pot? I noticed you smoked another joint after I left."

"You noticed? How did you notice? You could tell that from our bedroom window?"

"I wasn't spying on you. But I know how many joints were in the baggie. At some point I'm going to have to figure out a way to replace them and get some of our own... or my own, if you don't like it. Do you?"

"Yeah, Bets. I actually do. Last night was incredible... that's why I had another one. I can't believe how great I slept."

She giggled happily as she reached to her right, unzipping the sleeping bag. Shifting her weight a bit, she stretched her body. Darren's hands went to her waist, holding her in place on his shaft, unwilling to let her pull off.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting another one," she winked as she held the baggie in front of him. Pulling out a joint, she flicked the lighter. Tossing the bag and the lighter to the side, she took a long hit before putting it between Darren's lips for him to do the same.

She slowly ground up and down on his cock, only lifting up an inch or so, wanting to stay full while they smoked together. The now familiar buzz washed over both of them quickly. Betsy attributed it to them having smoked several not that many hours before, the high returning far more easily than if they'd not done it for a while.

When they were at the end of the blunt, Betsy coated her finger and thumb with saliva, pinching the lit end of the joint to put it out.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" he asked.

"Just learned it," she shrugged as she carefully put it on the sole of her upside down shoe, just in case.

He reached up, fondling her sore breasts, the numerous bruises from the hickeys coming into view as the sun dawned over the mountain. "What were you saying about having to replace the pot?"

"It doesn't belong to me."

"Diane?"

"No. She had her own. That's Gene's," she admitted.

"WHAT!?"

"Sshhhh. We're outside."

"What do you... our son is doing drugs!?"

"Uh... so are we. And like I said last night, I really don't see me stopping. If you're honest, you won't either. You have to admit, this feels fucking good."

Darren agreed that he was right. After all, he'd willingly had a third one on his own immediately after she left the tent the night before. And he didn't argue with sharing the one they just finished off when it was offered to him. To come down on Gene for doing something he admittedly would do again himself was hypocritical, and that was a trait he couldn't stand in people.

Betsy leaned forward and licked at his ear. Seconds later he'd rolled her over, and he covered them back up with the top of the sleeping bag.

"Make love to me, sweetie. Please," she begged.

"My pleasure, love," he moaned as he sank himself fully into her warm pussy.

Gone was the angry agression that was present in their fucking hours before, replaced by a tenderness that can only come from two people that are deeply in love. Betsy wrapped her legs around Darren's slender waist, locking her ankles as he slowly rolled his hips. His strokes were long and measured, the power in his thighs and ass being restrained by the thought of making the unexpected tryst a lasting memory.

Betsy swooned, basking in the long, passionate kisses they were sharing. She'd had sex so many times over the previous few days, but she'd missed the sexiness of a man possessing her mouth in the way he was. It was everything. Never mind the way he was humping into her body. The tingle she got from the way his lips pressed against hers, his tongue exploring her mouth, made her clit pulse. That in turn brought about her first orgasm.

"Oooohhhhh," she sang, quietly announcing what he already knew.

"Yes. Cum for me," he encouraged.

She shuddered as it enveloped her, much like he was. For a man rather small in stature, her husband was a physical marvel. He was strong and powerful, built like a brick wall. His thighs were massive; his ass muscular. His chest and abdomen were chiseled, his years in the service long since backed up by a daily workout of push-ups and sit-ups.

He was in such amazing condition; his athleticism and grace showing in everything he did. He excelled at any sport he tried, and yet he was also an incredible dancer, unafraid to show off those skills for her whenever she asked.

It felt like they were dancing inside the sleeping bag; the two engaged in a sexual tango that moved to the music in their combined soul. If ever there was a couple in tune with each other, the Thomases fit that description.

Betsy came again, her back arching as he plowed harder into her gushing pussy. The wet, squishing sounds filled the tent, along with the sudden slapping of his groin into hers. He'd increased his pace, bringing with it more passion. She could feel his cock beginning to expand, his pending explosion upon them.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum inside me," she begged.

He lurched forward, ramming his shaft into her, holding himself still as he unleashed his seed.

"Uunnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhh!" he growled into her ear.

"Yeeeessssss!" she hissed, kissing him once he collapsed onto her.

Unlocking her ankles, they remained coupled for a good twenty minutes, just holding each other and kissing playfully. He seemed to stay hard forever afterward, and she allowed him time, thinking for a while that he might just start up again. She wasn't going to deny him her pussy if he wanted it. In her mind, it belonged to him again. At least until he decided to allow her to play once more. While she didn't know when, she knew that was a foregone conclusion. So did Darren.

Eventually he rolled off her, staring at the top of the tent. "You're right, Betsy," he said, finally breaking the silence between them. "Fucking is amazing on that stuff. It's so much better than alcohol."

"And there's no headaches from it. Just tons and tons of pleasure," she sighed.

"Most of that comes from you, love."

"I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart. But the drugs do seem to bring out another side of us. I've never felt better than I do right now, and that's saying something considering what I've been through this weekend."

"Care to share?"

"Actually, I don't. I'm not sure I want to Darren. You're not Rob. I can't see you wanting to know so you can get off on what a bad girl I've been. One look at my body last night had to tell you that. If you need to know for some kind of peace of mind, then I suppose -"

"No, Bets. I'm good. As long as you had a good time and don't regret anything, then I'm okay with it."

"I did, and I have no regrets. I do have a couple of requests though."

"Okay. Shoot."

"I don't want you talking to Sam about it. As far as you're concerned, I paid for the new contract with my body. End of story. That's how I want it. If he brings it up, politely tell him he's welcome and move on."

"Ha. Okay. What else?"

"I don't want you asking Gene about the pot. As far as he knows, we never discovered his stash and that he smokes it. I want to keep it that way. That's why I have to replace what we've used and get our own."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I don't want you worried about that. It's illegal, so it needs to be my risk, not yours."

"How can you even think like that."

"I'm just being practical, Darren. You're the breadwinner. We're not going to put your career in jeopardy for a little naughty fun. And it's unlikely they're going to put a mother with an eleven-year-old at home in jail over something that's actually harmless, illegal or not. My guess would be a fine and community service after a night locked up. No different than drunk driving. But I'm going to be careful. Don't worry."

"Don't worry... where are you even going to go to start looking for it? It's a drug, but not one the local pharmacy carries."

"Leave that to me," she winked.

"Don't you think I have a right to know?"

"Actually, no. Consider it plausible deniability. If you don't know, you can't be compelled to tell anyone. And since you're my husband, you can't testify against me in case I get caught. But I'm not going to, because I already have a source and it'll be safe. You just have to trust me. Do you?"

"Of course I do."

"Then not another word," she said as she rolled away. Extracting herself from the big sleeping bag she stood, stretching her sexy body. He smiled as he stared at her bare pussy, only her mound covered with her soft, neatly trimmed pubic hair. He could see his load leaking past her splayed lips.

She put on her shoes, picking up the butt of the joint in the process. She also picked up the baggie of pot and the lighter, putting the latter inside the former. Reaching for the flap, she unzipped, ready to step out into the blossoming sunshine of the cool morning.

"Aren't you going to cover up?" he asked.

"No," she grinned wickedly.

"What about the neighbors?"

"What about them? There's only the one that could possibly see me from here, and they're bound to find out they live next door to a slut sooner or later. I'm going to put on a pot of coffee and take a quick shower. I'll be out of it in ten minutes, then you can come get ready for work. I'll have breakfast ready for you when you come out. Are eggs and sausage okay?"

"Just the coffee, Bets. I have a breakfast meeting with the city council today about the land for the new warehouse we're going to build. With Sam's contract finalized..."

"Thanks to me," she giggled.

"Yes, thanks to you, you little slut," he winked, "with that finalized, I can commit to the purchase and start working on the zoning change we need. That's what the meeting is about."

"Okay. I'll see you inside in a little while."