If The Opportunity Arises

As his thrusts became more deliberate in an attempt to get even deeper inside her cunt; the walls of her cunt reacted immediately, secreting more copious fluid to lubricate his cock for maximum penetration, as her own impending climax, propelled her pelvis up from the bed, rotating her cunt lips around his thrusting cock with renewed ferocity.

She heard a gasp, followed by the intense pulsation of his cock as she felt the surging wave of his boiling liquid rush from his balls along the rigid length of his cock. She was totally consumed by the avalanche of tingling sensations, her mind and body instantly subjugated to the incredible sensuality of the powerful surges of his sperm erupting deep into the boiling cauldron of her womb.

Her body ravaged by a multitude of erotic spasms, caused her satiated body to suddenly fall heavily backwards onto the bed; her belly still undulating from the repercussions of her own debauched orgasms, as her cunt milked voraciously at his throbbing penis, trying to drain every drop of his hot thick semen.

She was fulfilled completely, any abject shame and guilt evaporated into insignificance compared to the satiation which wafted over her.

.............................................

The flight back home gave Edythe the much needed time to reflect on the events from the last few days. She suppressed any guilt relating to what happened, which somewhat surprised her, but objective reasoning absolved her ethically in her eyes. After all she was legally separated; she was a woman, vulnerable and needing human warmth, going through a traumatic separation, grieving maybe, but she was definitely not dead.

It wasn't as if she slept with every man she met, however she did recognize the irony of her thoughts, considering what happened. In reality she had never been promiscuous, even at a younger age she was always careful about taking things slow in her relationships, the same with her marriage. In fact, it wasn't as if she had planned what happened, quite the opposite; as she felt any signs of compromising her moral judgment in her fragile state of mind would only make things worse.

However she also acknowledged the positives that came from what occurred and for the moment it put any thoughts of fear of moving forward with her life on the back burner. In her mind she had just taken a giant step forward towards total restoration.

Somewhat at peace with herself, but still the feeling of being mentally drained and physically exhausted she reclined the plane's seat, deciding on sleep for the flight home: her last thoughts were of words from a Toby Keith song: "What happens in Mexico, stays in Mexico," and she thought maybe the same could be said for Chicago!

Edythe never really felt any notable change after the trip, try as she might; she found it difficult to break free of slipping back into her self-imposed ostracism. But as days passed, there were some unpremeditated changes. She found herself interested in what the girls were planning for the weekend, sometimes even participating in the discussions. Her choice of clothes had changed; she was wearing brighter colours and trendier fashions, and on occasion some tastefully provocative styles.

Each day seemed to open a new door for her; starting with a quick drink or dinner with the girls after work, progressing to going to dances on the weekend, which eventually led to dating.

At first her dates were disasters, always lacking self-confidence and finding herself constantly on guard made it almost impossible for her to relax and enjoy herself. She felt sorry for some of her companions, blaming herself for wasting their time and gallant efforts to get her to open up. However, over time that changed and she did begin to enjoy herself more, with some of the dates progressing into short-term relationships. Unfortunately she couldn't find that one person to help her make that last step, to experience that emotional high she desperately needed.

It had been over six months since the seminar and Edythe could not ignore that life had gone full circle, and was again in trouble of spiralling into an emotional backslide. At home her relationship with her children became cold and strained, tempers flaring instantly and arguments more frequent. At work she withdrew and her moods became indifferent, in addition to avoiding all social activities and dating. She was spending more time at work, hiding out in her office to avoided co-workers, and staying late into the evening to delay going home.

It was a beautiful evening, comfortably warm, when she left the office later than usual. If it hadn't been so nice out she would have taken a cab home, but being in no rush decided to take the bus. Besides, she could get off by the park and take a nice walk before going home.

The only downside to taking the bus was where she had to catch it. It wasn't that it was in a bad part of town or that she feared for her safety, it had more to do with what transpired there. It was where the prostitutes plied their trade.

She reached the bus stop and checked the schedule, with twenty minutes to wait she thought about walking along the route until the bus came, but decided against it. Checking the bench for a clean place to sit, she sat down and took a book from her bag, flipping the pages until she found where she had left of. After several attempts at reading the same page she quickly gave up and returned her book back into the bag.

She didn't consciously watch the activities across the street, in fact, she tried to avoid looking. Whether it was curiosity or the phenomenon of what was happening, she found her attention being continuingly drawn to the other side of the street. The whole thing seemed so surreal, as if everything about it was some form of private club.

Her attention was drawn mostly to the women, it was almost impossible to tell their ages, as the young tried to look old and the old tried to look young. Their clothing was indecent, leaving very little to the imagination of their possible customers. She thought it such a societal contradiction.

The women were constantly moving up and down the street, occasionally taking a few moments to talk to each other, but for most part would stand alone. When a slow moving police cruiser crawled by she watched the women scampering of into different directions, hiding in doorways or stores; quickly returning to their posts after it passed.

She watched the endless procession of slow moving cars, clearly seeing the heads of the drivers scouring the procession of women, parading prominently for their consideration. Then a car would pull up to the curb and his silent selection would move slowly towards the car, making sure that her body moved in a very seductive manner until she reached the car. Sometimes the women would get inside and sometimes they would just hold the door open bending their head inside. Most transactions were completed when the car pulled away with woman inside or a car door slamming and the woman storming away before turning and brandishing a flourish of obscene hand gestures.

She continued to watch, focusing on different women, wondering about their lives and what motivated them to this type of lifestyle. So overcome with an intrinsic need to understand them, so powerful that she found herself morphing, becoming one of them:

The car pulling up to the curb in front of her; the passenger window already down and the driver leaning across the front seat smiling over at her, his eyes inviting her over. Her first thought was to ignore him, to explain that she was just waiting for the bus, but she didn't. Instead, she made her way to the car, imitating the seductive walk, and when the passenger door swung open towards her she slid inside the car closing the door behind her.

He kept smiling at her, all the time his eyes appraising her body blatantly, and his head nodding in approval. He looked up at her, his smile not changing and asked "How much?"

"It depends... on what for?"

"I wanna see ya pussy first, if it's as good as the rest of you, a blow and a fuck!" he leered wickedly at her.

She was unable to move or say anything; she just sat riveted in the seat. Her mind plummeting, and her body voluntarily responding to the vulgar expectations. She turned her body sideways in the seat, her right leg spreading slightly, but restricted by her tight skirt, she stopped and looked over at him.

"Well pull the fucking skirt up, then!" he demanded.

Her hands were shaking as she pulled her skirt higher up her thighs, stopping when she saw her white panties. She had little problem lifting her left leg, bending it at the knee so her foot could rest on the console between the seats, at the same time her right leg stretched wide until he could see the outline of her thick pussy lips through the thin material of her panties.

"That's a good girl, now lets see that cunt!" he rasped, the smile returning and his excitement evident in his eyes.

Her right hand moved down between her thighs, moving directly to the thin band protecting her mound. She hooked a finger under the band and pulled it away and over from her throbbing pink lips. She looked down between her thighs, excited by her glisten juices on her flowering lips.

"What a gorgeous cunt! Play with it, stick a finger in it!" he choked.

So lost with her acts of self-indulgence that she actually felt her finger sliding around inside her pussy, the action scared her instantly, and she almost had a coronary when she realized she was day dreaming. So real were her thoughts that she found herself frantically straightening her skirt, her body shaking uncontrollably.

Completely stunned at the realism of what she had transpired in her mind, she stood up from the bench and started walking away with her head down. Finally reaching the intersection, she crossed against the traffic, and fearful of her actions looked for a cab, relieved when one pulled up beside her.

She arrived home to an empty house. Her nerves were fraught with uncontrollable urges and her inability to suppress them. What scared her most; was the knowledge that the least amount of provocation would easily manipulate her subconscious. Right then she needed to mentally escape her mind's sexual fantasies, pouring a drink, then another and another. It was only then that she slept, when the alcohol completely numbed her mind and body.

Edythe called into work sick the next morning; staying in her bedroom hiding under the covers until the kids left. Still shaken about what happened; even more provoking and horrible was the ambiguity she felt about it. Part of her shivered with repugnance and yet there were parts of her that couldn't deny the anticipation, excitement, seductive and erotic feeling that she felt.

It was early afternoon when she finally left the safety of her room, finding just enough energy to take a hot bath. By mid-afternoon she actually felt some relief and was able to push the memories of last night to the side, finding it easier to concentrate and rationalize the sexual metamorphosis affecting her. Although, subconsciously, she conceded that she could not prevent herself from falling prey to the same type of thoughts.

The days were the easiest, she was so busy at work that time flew by, it was after work that had become excruciating hard. Each evening after work she waited at the same bus stop, her mind always drawn to the activities across the street. The more she tried to understand what was happening the less strength she found inside to fight the emerging attractions of the unknown. It wasn't even a matter of what was right or wrong; it was the allure of her dark side that kept nudging at her moral fibre, to the point where self-justification became a spiralling contradiction. By the end of the day she felt more cracks and chinks in her already fragile armour, becoming deeper and unable to control the moral erosion of her mind. Then once at home she would deliberate and rationalize her thoughts, eventually falling asleep feeling mentally strong and confidently determined that her conscious morality would help her survive the day ahead.

Instead, each day Edythe could sense her subtle descent as licentious thoughts started to make there way into her mind at work. Her mind unable to focus properly at work, as she thought more about her time at the bus stop, and like an addict, she sensed the desperate need to take charge of herself. She had no comprehension of what the solution might be; only that she had to confront and vanquish the anonymity in her mind, to gain control back. Her only problem was how!

Edythe answered her own question!

PART II

It was called The Pantera Sports Bar because it had a better ring to it than brothel, especially since the law had a thing about pimps and call girl services; although everybody in vice knew the story behind the Pantera. Generally the sports bar was left alone, only suffering occasional police intervention. Everybody knew The Pantera serviced two sectors within community. Firstly it offered a variety of services from drinks, food and an assortment of sporting activities, along with other specialized services to a wide spectrum of cliental; and secondly, as a consequence of the first provided a wealth of knowledge for the law.

It was owned and operated by Connor Pritchard who could be found there most days, usually watching soccer, fucking a new recruit or just relaxing. The Pantera was his claim to fame; he had taken the derelict building and using his intuitive ability to take advantage of situations, turned it into a gold mine. It was this intuitiveness that he lived by, and that always kept him alert to any and all opportunities that came his way.

As a rule Connor never got directly involved in his illegal dealings; preferring to play both sides of the fence, beside he had enough minders on his payroll to handle that end of it. However, every now and then his predatory nature would surface and he would set his sight on his prey and it was game on. The woman at the bus stop was next on his list!

Connor had been watching her for the past week from his office window, upstairs in The Pantera. He had a perfect view from his window as it was directly opposite the street from the bus stop. Initially he hadn't paid much attention, more cursory glances as he preferred to window shop for younger women. However, there was something about her that triggered his predatory instinct, but just couldn't quite put his finger on it

At first she acted like most people waiting for the bus, but he had noticed something different in her that set her apart from the others. It was like she was studying; always focused intently on the girls working the street, from the minute she arrived until the bus came.

On one particular occasion she didn't even get on the bus, she just sat there staring across the street oblivious to the bus coming and leaving. His first reaction was vice, but he quickly dismissed that thought as she didn't really fit the part; it was then he decided to scope her out, take a closer look at her and find out what she was all about.

The next evening, like clockwork she arrived on time and he was already sitting on the bench when she arrived and sat down. He attempted to catch her eye, in an innocent fashion. If she had noticed his effort, she acted as if he didn't exist; instead her attention automatically tuning in across the street.

Connor liked the look of her, he guessed to be in her early thirties, but she was the complete package, and even though she was older, he felt an immediate attraction towards her. She dressed conservatively but with a style that didn't hide her long tapered legs, and what looked to be a good body. She had blue eyes, sad and intense, but under the right circumstances he knew would sparkle. Her hair was an expensive dye and style job, although it was red he sensed she was probably a blond, something he decided he was going experience personally.

This was going to be a challenge for him as this was not the type of woman that he normally took chances on. Most women who fell under his charm indirectly came to him, as they were usually chemically dependent, naive or abandoned; this woman didn't seem prone to any of these circumstances. He would have to go slowly with her, slither his way into her life, inveigling himself into her life.

For the rest of the week he just concentrated on making mental notes of her behaviour and becoming a regular fixture at the stop. At first he would just nod or smile at her; on occasion he would try to start a conversation, usually weather related comments. However she would always keep her remarks brief, and although amiable they seemed forced and detached.

He would take the same bus as her, tolerating the thirty minute ride before she got off. He would always get off a few stops later, where his minder would be waiting in the car. They would drive around the neighbourhood, so that he could familiarize himself, just in case she asked where he lived. He even had instructed his driver to follow her, to find out where she lived.

It was later the following week when things took a change, he was about to give up, but something she did caught his attention, it had been very subtle, but he had sussed it instantly. It was a look that came over her and the body language that followed. He noticed that glassy-eyed look that a person gets when they're in another world, or on the periphery of waiting for something to happen; more importantly it was the way she moved uncomfortably on the seat as she watched the girls across the street going about their business.

It dawned on him that this woman was affected; even attracted to the vicarious life these women led, but sensed she was terrified of her own moral judgement and innate desire to be a part of it. Perfect he thought to himself, this was the link he needed to work at; she was a furtive voyeur of the licentiousness of life. This was territory he knew only to well, this was his playground!

By the end of the week Connor finally engaged her in a conversation, he keyed specifically in on her interest in the girls and nonchalantly let it slip that he owned The Pantera and if she liked, he would introduce her to some of the girls. He did not miss her reaction when he mentioned the club and meeting the girls; in fact it was after that she began to participate more, asking instead of answering questions, in their conversation.

Over next few weeks they began to hit off, he learned quite a bit about her, specifically her name, Edythe. On a couple of occasions they had gone for a coffee and he had even convinced her to go for a quick drink when he had driven her home. For most part her questions about the club were pretty basic and easy to answer, as were the ones about the girls. He offered to show her around the club, but as with his offer to meet some of the girls, she never asked: instead she just asked questions. He always answered her honestly, never sugar coating his beliefs about what was right or wrong, just his opinion.

Connor was no fool, he knew Edythe couldn't be rushed but it had been a month since he started this quest; and even though they had a great rapport going, he felt that he was no closer now, than when he started. It was becoming increasingly frustrating for him.

His name was Connor and she had met him at the bus stop. At first she was intimidated by his presence he seemed a tad haughty for her liking. In fact she had totally ignored him on the few occasions that he did catch her attention, pretending to be pre-occupied.

He wasn't a big man, maybe five-ten, early forties, average looking. But his most striking feature was his eyes, as they seemed to constantly change from blue–to-grey-to-green, in a way it was very seductive. He was always smiling and very sociable, never really pushing himself at her; in fact he seemed content to accept her apprehension in stride, but it never deterred his efforts.