Rest Stop Bull Ch. 02

"Cheers, to new friends."

We clink our bottles and drink. Dustin, sour-faced, is still in his same expensive-looking sweater and ill-fitting khakis, but Beth now has on a black T-shirt featuring the album cover of Miles Davis' "Kind of Blue" tucked into her jeans. Her body is incredible. I wink at her in recognition of the cool shirt, and she hides her smile behind another sip from the bottle. Dustin, busy guzzling his beer, doesn't notice.

I show them around the rest of the house quickly, offering explanations of my favorite pieces of art and furniture. It doesn't take too long; the house is large for one person, but not decadent.

At one point during the tour Dustin points his thumb at a closed door I didn't explain. "Does this lead down to the basement where you keep the mutilated corpses of all the stranded travelers you take in?"

I can tell he's trying to be an ass, but I laugh anyway. It's pretty good. Beth isn't as pleased.

"Shut it Dustin. Don't be rude."

She walks ahead, reading the spines of the books on a nearby shelf. I slap Dustin on the back to show there are no hard feelings, then grip his shoulder and pull him next to me until his body is touching mine. I keep it natural, but I tower over him, and I'm sure he can feel the muscle on my torso where his shoulder is wedged against it. He tries to extricate himself but I hold him close for another second or two before freeing him.

We end the tour in the living room, which is adjacent to the kitchen and has a door to the back patio. It's almost pitch black through the glass, but I flip on the exterior lights to reveal the backyard: a grill, a glass table with the umbrella stowed, the beginning of a lawn that disappears into the murk. Before I flick the light off, Beth somehow spies the hot tub, even though it's partially hidden around the corner of the house and hard to discern in the night with its dark cover. Nevertheless, she insists we turn it on and go for a dip.

"I haven't been in one in forever, and it sounds perfect after our horrible day."

Dustin looks mildly panicked and shuffles his weight on his feet. He talks quickly, searching for an excuse that will fit. "Oh, uh, are you sure? I don't think I packed a bathing suit. There are probably bugs outside anyway. Also, I'm pretty hungry, shouldn't we start thinking about dinner?"

I'm also getting hungry, but there's no way I'm going to pass up an opportunity to see Beth in a bathing suit.

"No worries champ, I have some extra trunks." I glance at his crotch and remember the small pecker he's hiding in there. "Though they might not fit you quite right."

He doesn't respond, just tightens up his face and averts his eyes. The guy is riddled with self-confidence issues and insecurity. I would feel bad for him if he wasn't dragging a beautiful, interesting woman like Beth down like an anchor. I make a decision.

"Tell you what, you get started on dinner and I will take Beth for a dip." I keep my tone casual as I feel out this unknown threshold.

Dustin stares at me in disbelief. I want to look at Beth to see her reaction, but I know I can't take my eyes from Dustin. This is a pivotal moment. I have been slowly eroding his control over the situation all evening, and he makes one last scramble for purchase.

"Oh, actually, um, I guess I will borrow a bathing suit if that's —"

"No," I say, cutting him off, "I think you making dinner sounds like a good plan. I'll show you where everything is while Beth gets changed." There's nothing in my tone or cadence that suggests this is up for debate. It is a statement of fact.

He looks at his girlfriend with thinly veiled desperation. "Beth ..."

She looks back and forth between us in surprised silence, but makes no effort to come to his aid. She seems to be really seeing Dustin for the first time, for the boy he still is underneath the bluster and the fancy clothes. Then she turns to me and all I see is a warm smile.

"Be right back." Dustin's mouth literally falls open in shock as he watches her walk toward to the guest room.

Arousal is coursing through my body. I've never done anything like this in my life. I've always been an assertive and confident person, but these are deep waters unknown to me. This first taste of control — of domination — over Dustin is hitting buttons I didn't know I had. Aside from my deep sexual and intellectual attraction to his girlfriend, there is something in this dynamic between him and me that is exhilarating. Standing here, in my tall, muscular body with my large cock hanging between my legs, I look at him in his weakness and feel strong, powerful, unstoppable.

But I don't want to overthink it and blow it. Before he can react I take him by the shoulder and lead him to the kitchen. I open the fridge, pull out ingredients for a salad and a rudimentary pasta dish and tell him where he can find the knives, cutting boards, pots and pans. I don't care what he makes; food is now the last thing on my mind. I leave him there, holding a box of baby spinach in stunned silence.

I dart into my room and change into a bathing suit. Something short and tight. My body is still tingling in anticipation when I dip outside to turn on the hot tub. The air is chilly.

Beth enters just as I return into the living room. Any fantasies of her body I'd had time to concoct are incomparable to the real thing. Her breasts are tantalizing beyond description in her light blue bikini, filling the cups with the essence of feminine allure. Her stomach is flat with a just hint of softness above long shapely legs that look smooth to the touch.

Seeing my desire, she glances nervously around the room and does a quick twirl. I get a glimpse of her partially clothed ass, which seems somehow both soft and hard, round and tight. I toss her a towel, then put my hands on my hips so she can get a look at my body. I know she's curious, and I let her get a good look.

I watch her looking at me. A momentary timidness is overcome when she sees my bulge, which has only grown with my arousal. I think about Dustin's dumpy body and small cock. They'd been together for seven years. There's no way that dunce can fuck her right. She must be thirsty. I want to feel her soft skin, slide my fingers under the fabric of her bikini top —

Dustin wanders back in the room. He's about to ask me something about the kitchen when he sees his ravishing girlfriend drinking me in. He stops dead.

Before he can say anything, I move to block his view of Beth. I let him get a good look at my body though; his eyes dart for my tight bathing suit faster than hers did. Smiling, I again grab his shoulder and gently spin him back toward the kitchen. Speaking warmly but firmly I say, "Dustin, pour us two glasses of wine. I have some good bottles in the rack at the end of the counter. Any red will do. I have a feeling Beth here hasn't had something really good to drink in a long time."

I lay that " really good" on so thick you could put a pat of butter on it and call it French toast. I realize I might be pressing my luck — am I really trying to steal this guy's girlfriend from him right under his nose? Can that possibly work? — but I find that I can't help it. It's not insulting him that turns me on so much; it's the way he just takes it, accepting my domination with quiet obedience, that sends the blood coursing through my body.

When I turn around, Beth is watching me with a strange expression, like someone learning the secret to a long-befuddling magic trick. She lowers her voice conspiratorially. "You know, Dustin's never seen this bikini. I was going to surprise him."

Hearing this supercharges my arousal. It's trivial, but we now share a secret. We're in it together against Dustin. That the secret is about how I'm getting something that was intended for him only makes it that much hotter.

She also seems to realize that she's traversed a small but meaningful boundary, and she looks scared and delighted at once. She is gorgeous and I want to take her now, here on the living room floor. But I know I must be patient.

I open the sliding door and guide her into the backyard, my fingers grazing the the straps of her bathing suit top and the silky skin of her back. It's the first time I've touched her. Another boundary crossed. How many more can we get to?

The hot tub feels exquisite in the nippy night air. Beth moans as her legs slide into the roiling cauldron and the jets start to do their magic. Aside from my arousal, I have to agree with her wordless sentiment: It really does feel fucking great. I definitely do not use this thing enough.

We're sitting on opposite sides, everything completely above board and platonic, when Dustin slides the door open to bring us our wine. Beth leans over the edge of the tub to fetch the glasses, and we clink cheers.

"Thanks honey," she tells him, turning away.

"You're welcome," he mutters, shifting his weight awkwardly. Then, as if he's just made up his mind, he straightens up and looks me in the eye. "I think I'd like to take a dip after all."

"I'm sorry you didn't pack a bathing suit, my friend" I say, shaking my head sympathetically, as if that is the only reason he's still out in the cold, when we all know it isn't. I wonder who will break this charade first.

Dustin's jealousy is apparent as he watches us luxuriate in the swirling steam. "I have a pair of gym shorts I could wear. I don't mind."

"I'll tell you what. You want to come in, just strip down to your birthday suit and hop in. Doesn't bother me. It's nothing any of us haven't seen before."

I feel Beth's foot move against my own under the dark water. She brushes past tentatively, then returns and stays put, rubbing her sole against my toes. I try not to react visibly, but my cock starts to harden below the bubbles. She likes it when I toy with him. Amazing.

He stands awkwardly, weighing my offer, but before he can say anything Beth cuts in. "Dustin, we all know you don't want to do that. Go inside and finish dinner."

"This is bullshit," he whines. "This is supposed to be our weekend together!" He's finally broken through his daze, ready to stand up for himself. But that opportunity has come and gone. He's had all night to do it. Hell, he's had seven years to avoid ending up here, at this moment.

He opens his mouth to protest again, but I cut him off. "Dustin, shut up. You're embarrassing yourself. Go inside. Make dinner. We'll be in soon."

Beth's foot travels farther up my leg, toeing the bottom of my bathing suit. The sensation brings me to almost full erection. She's only a few inches away. Goosebumps break out over my exposed shoulders and arms. She takes a long sip of wine.

Dustin sputters a few incoherent syllables, then gives in. I can see his shoulders slouch in the shadowy light. He trudges back into the house. The glass door slides closed, and I turn off the hot tub's jets. All is silent and still in the dark backyard.

Beth and I lock eyes. Her foot falls from my lap. Neither of us have verbally acknowledged the electricity between us, but that only builds the tension. There are a million things that I want to say but my throbbing erection clouds my mind. The silence grows, threatening to become something malignant until Beth breaks it.

"I recognized you from the Starbucks line. When you came to talk to us on the bench, I mean. I remembered you."

"I remembered you, too. I noticed you immediately. That's why I started eavesdropping on your conversation. That's not like me, but after what I saw in the bathroom ..."

Her eyes dart to the house, checking that the door is still closed. "Dustin is the only man I've ever been with." The tips of her hair dip below the water's surface as her shoulders droop.

"It's not your fault, Beth. It's just who he is. But it's not enough for you. That was clear to me the second I saw you."

"He told me," she begins slowly, choosing her words carefully, "about what he saw in the bathroom." A pause. "Is it true?"

I had already overheard Dustin's mumbled account of the bathroom incident, but I needed to hear her say it. My cock was in control now, my insides a writhing mass of hungry fire. "What did he say he saw?"

"That you were ... bigger. A lot bigger."

Instead of answering, I beckon her toward me. She slides across the hot tub, coming within range of one of my outstretched arms. My heart is beating high and fast. She leans back against my arm, and I wrap my hand around her shoulder and pull her in close to me. It feels right.

She puts her hand on my thigh and looks up at me. Her eyes are wide and full of longing. I want her more than I've wanted anything before in my life. She opens her mouth and needs to swallow twice before the words come out.

"Can I ...?"

"Yes."

Her hand moves up my leg. I feel her fingertips graze the taut fabric of my bathing suit as she approaches my groin. It almost tickles. Then she finds my hardness, which has forced its way down one thigh. Her fingers wrap around me.

"Oh my god."

Her first touch is timid. Her hand moves slowly up and down my shrouded length, testing its limits. She holds it tightly where it's thickest near the base; her fingers barely make it around what she can grip over my bathing suit. It feels incredible to have her touch me, explore me like this. I flex against her hand, sending jolts of pleasure down my arms and legs.

"Oh my god," she says again, and gulps. Her breath has quickened. "Alan, I didn't even know it could be like this."

She adds another hand. Even then, she still can't hold all of me at once. She works one hand between my legs, feeling for my balls. I've never been this aroused. My cock feels swollen with latent power, and my instincts tell me to rip off Beth's suit, bend her over the edge of the hot tub and plunge inside her.

Instead I say: "Let's go into the house."

She looks up at me in surprise. Her hands pull away. My cock screams at me.

"Inside? But Dustin ... I've never ... I don't know if I actually can ... cheat." The word hangs in the air like poisonous vapor.

"Neither have I. But I know when something feels right and something feels wrong. This feels right. Righter than I knew something could feel. I know you feel it, too."

She stares back at me, waging an internal war. Finally, she says quietly, almost whispering: "You're right. I do."

"There's no need for secrets here. It might be a little tough at first, but I think you'll be surprised at how Dustin will react in the end."

She looks at me disbelievingly, but when I rise from the water, I see her eyes widen at my engorged groin. The visual — my erection forcing the bathing suit fabric out to a ludicrous degree — would be hilarious if the atmosphere wasn't tense with barely controlled lust.

We do our best to towel off, but we're too distracted, and water pools around our feet on the wood floor after I slide the glass door closed behind us. Dustin saunters in from the kitchen. His grin is wooden and eyes empty and he speaks in a falsely cheery tone. So he's chosen denial, I think.

"Dinner's almost ready. Nothing too fancy, I'm afraid. We better eat soon if we want to make it to the hotel before it gets too late. You said it's a bit of a hike, right Alan?"

He sees how Beth and I look at each other, but he doesn't drop his charade until I drop my towel. As expected, his eyes are immediately drawn to my bulge. I let him look.

"Dustin, you're not going to the Marriott tonight."

He tears his eyes away and looks up at me wildly. "What the fuck?" He turns to Beth, then back to me. His voice rises and cracks with emotion. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

I speak calmly. This is it. No more games. "You're both going to spend the night here. You're going to sleep in the guest room, and I'm going to fuck Beth."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Louder now, panicky. "That's bullshit. That's fucking bullshit."

I say nothing, only reach out to Beth, who takes my hand and lets me pull her to me. She presses her body against mine. She looks at him straight on, no fear. I'm so proud of her.

Dustin watches with horror. He rounds on Beth, tears of rage tracing paths down his cheeks."You slut. You fucking whore! I can't believe you're doing this to me."

"Be quiet, Dustin," I say, still calm but with an undercurrent of menace. "Don't speak to her like that. This isn't her fault; it's yours. You couldn't satisfy her. She deserves better, and she's going to get it for the first time in her life."

"You ..." He starts toward me.

"Dustin, no!" Beth screams.

He makes to swing at me, but I grab both of his wrists and wrench his arms back down. It's not hard; I'm much stronger than him, even in his wild, spasmodic rage. He barks a syllable of helpless fury and tries to kick me, head me, anything to make contact. I take one kick off my shin that I barely feel as I force him down to the ground. He tries to wriggle out from under me but I tighten my grip on his wrists until he yelps in pain.

"Dustin, stop," Beth says, obviously worried, but is there an undercurrent of exasperation? "He's stronger than you. Stop, before you get hurt."

I finish subduing him. I've got his right arm pinned tightly behind his back and a knee on his flailing legs.

"I'm doing you a favor," I say. He's sobbing under me, whether in fear, anger or grief I can't tell, and he spits muffled curses into the floorboards.

"A favor? Fuck you, you retarded hick."

"You couldn't satisfy her," I say. "And it's not your fault. You shouldn't have tried. You never would have been able to."

"I can satisfy her! I can satisfy her better than you! Tell him Beth!"

"No, you can't," Beth says quietly. "You never did. But I know Alan can." A little more confidently now. "He's different than you. It's hard to explain ... just ... he's a man."

"And what am I?" he sobs, straining his neck to make tear-blurred eye contact.

"You're ... pretend," she says, "play-acting as a man."

All at once, the fight leaves Dustin's body. He falls limp on the floor, and I know he won't be any more trouble. I release him and rise to my feet. He scrambles up to a kneeling position, and I offer him my hand. He accepts the help.

I direct him to an easy chair, then I sit next to Beth, still wrapped in her towel, on the couch. I put my arm around her shoulders. She puts her hand on my bare leg. Dustin, shell shocked, eyes red-ringed, is transfixed by her wandering fingers. My bulge is not as prominent after all the tumult, but it's still quite evident.

"Listen, Dustin," I say, settling back against the couch. "I'm sorry it came to that. I don't blame you for being protective of Beth. She's an incredibly beautiful woman."

I'm speaking calmly, matter-of-factly, as if I'm not ripping his throat out with every word. Beth's fingers tip-toe closer to my cock. She's eager to get her hands on it again. I already know how aroused she gets watching me dominate Dustin.

"She told me that you were her first sexual partner," I tell Dustin. "I think if she'd had more experience, seen what the world had to offer her, so to speak, she would have known right away you weren't up to the task of satisfying her. And I don't mean satisfying her in some pornographic, jackhammering bullshit way. It is partially physical, but it's more about matching energies, feeding back to one another on a certain frequency."

Beth wriggles a little against my side, pulling closer.

"Anyway, I think she would have known right away that you weren't right for her, then it wouldn't be so hard for you right now."

I turn to Beth, "Not that it's your fault."

"No, you're right," she says. "Just being next to you, feeling you, how you're different than him. I know you're right."

Dustin stares, mouth slightly agape, as Beth's hand crests the curve of my bulge. Circling my prey like this has me fully erect again, and I flex against her touch, my cock fully discernible against the tight material of my trunks.