Skin in the Game Pt. 01

She looked stunning in her strength and certainty; as beautiful as anyone had ever been. But Jay knew better than to say anything. He took the cash and got out of there.

***

Betty entered the house with the proper look of shame and gratitude. She only waited a beat before glancing around. "So...Jay's not here right now, right?"

"Seriously?"

"Sorry!"

"Maybe you should just leave right now!"

"No! Please, Leanne! I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I hate that I slipped like that. It won't happen again, I promise."

"I'm holding my nose letting you back in my house, Nance. If you're here to make things right—"

"I am!"

"—then you'd better get your mind out of the gutter and off my son."

"I will. I'm sorry. I will. I...I don't know what to tell you, Lee."

"You can start with pulling yourself together. You need to be the Betty who works a room better than any other if you're going to help me keep Nora and Neesa quiet."

The curvy neighbor straightened, and shook her head to clear it. "You're right. I'm on it."

"I swear I don't even know who you are anymore." It was true, but she'd said it to cut at Betty as much as snap her into reality.

The brunette's shoulders slumped only a centimeter, but she looked Leanne in the eye. "I know. It's—" she looked up and away for a fraction of a moment before returning her gaze. "He affected me."

In a flash, Leanne recalled the high-pitch sounds of lust and pleasure she'd heard her friend make atop Jay. She saw that wide glistening trunk jammed tight in her friend. She remembered those wide fingers digging deep into the flesh of Betty's ass. How she'd jostled and swayed and squealed. The delicious filthy way she talked.

Leanne's body responded to the memory with a spicy warmth between her thighs. She resisted the urge to press them together.

When was the last time a man grabbed me like that? She couldn't help wondering. What would such a big dick feel like in—

"Whatever!" Leanne barked to interrupt her own thoughts as much as the conversation. "Are you going to help me pull this off, or do you need to go?"

"I'm here! I'm shutting up! I'm helping!" Betty bounced off to prepare the dining room table.

They set the table for coffee, tea and cookies for four. The (ex?)friends agreed Leanne and Betty would likely sit across from Nora and Neesa. The school teacher would want the aerobics entrepreneur close by for moral support.

Two more polar opposites, Leanne could hardly imagine.

"They should be here by now," the redhead fretted.

"I'll check." She peeked through the curtains and gasped. "Shit! What the Hell?"

"What? What is it, Betty?"

"We're going to need a fifth place setting. They're coming up the walkway with Francine Carlisle in tow!"

***

Leanne opened the door and offered a smile she could not feel. She stood in her guests' way, and offered her hand to Neesa Marks. "Hi Nora. It's been too long. Neesa. Thanks so much for coming. And with so little warning too. I know how busy you are."

Neesa Marks looked every bit the modern Nubian Princes. She stood taller, prouder and more tightly muscled than any the ancient Egyptian's had ever taken. Her eyes were a warm mahogany, and her skin was flawless (as always.) She had modest breasts, but the rest of her shape belonged on a comic-book super-heroine. She smiled and took Leanne's hand.

Leanne glanced over Neesa's shoulder, and said, "Is that Francine you brought with you?" She raised an auburn eyebrow.

There was a moment of stillness between them. They heard the clattering of plates and silverware inside. It was Betty struggling to lay the fifth place setting.

"Yes, it is!" said Neesa. She leaned in to kiss Leanne's cheek, and held close to her ear long enough to whisper, "You'll want her here. She's involved."

What? How? Why? What the Hell?

But on the surface, before the neighbors and the whole neighborhood, she held a calm demeanor. "Well then, I guess...I mean...Please, come in!"

A warm smile spread across her face, though she had no idea where it came from. This was a bad dream turning into a full-blown nightmare.

Neesa entered, followed by pale Nora Walker. She was a slender woman with long wavy -- though not luxurious -- brown hair. She only dared a second of eye contact with their hostess before looking down at her hands. She was pretty in a waifish and vulnerable way. She had a long thin nose and her pretty hazel eyes were big in the shape of a doe's. But her beauty hid beneath a thick blanket of timidity. Marriage to Pat-the-Pig had left her seemingly spineless. If she weren't a threat to Leanne's family security she'd pity the school teacher.

Behind the shy brunette strutted the tall striking blond, Francine Carlisle. She was the definitive trophy wife. She sported sleek bottle-blond hair and sky-blue eyes. These were two of the assets that had won her a marriage of convenience. Her husband was the local real-estate millionaire Chuck Carlisle. But today Francine's strut was softer and shorter than usual. She had a blank bubble-head expression, but her posture betrayed discomfort.

The five women sat together, and struggled to make small talk. Neesa asked Leanne who she employed as a personal trainer. "I may want to hire him or her with the results you've got."

Leanne blushed. "I learned from Jay how to lift the weights we got for him when he was wrestling in high school." She'd read some books on exercise and nutrition and researched different routines online. In time, they'd ordered an elliptical and a stationary bike. "I tested different things to find the workouts that fit me."

"Well, there's no arguing with the outcome, Leanne. Putting you in my front window would boost my business twenty percent, haha. You must have a laser focus to have done this yourself."

"Thanks."

No one else had anything to add. The other three women used Neesa's services. It looked like they found themselves questioning their own focus and self-control. The room filled with a suffocating silence. All remembered the true purpose of this meeting.

Betty broke the pregnant pause.

"Um...I can't think of an easy way to do this, so I'll do it the hard way. Please don't take any offence Francine, but I don't know why Neesa brought you here. It's lovely to meet you and all, and I'm sure we'd all be happy to get to know you better. But—" She looked from Leanne to Nora to Neesa before returning to the blond bombshell. "We've got some pretty important private stuff we need to discuss."

Francine smiled as Neesa chimed in with a steady tone, "I brought her here. Francine is involved. I told her about what Nora saw you doing, Betty; what Leanne found you doing with Jay."

Both Betty and Leanne erupted with outrage and questions. They spluttered over one another, but the gist was clear. Why would she go spilling some rumor? Why hadn't she at least brought it to them before spreading it around?

The sorrel-brown hard-body weathered their overlapping questions with calm. She'd expected them. She raised her hands. "Nora came to me, and told me she saw Leanne discover Betty riding Jay like a cowgirl." Every face flushed, including the speaker's. "She was very impressed, by the way." Nervous giggles broke out. "I wasn't planning on telling anyone anything."

"Then why did you?" Leanne broke in. "Why would you bring another stranger into my personal family mess?"

"Because I got a call from Betty asking me to come here. She said it was about what Nora saw. You want to find a way to contain this, so word doesn't spread."

"Yes." the auburn beauty affirmed.

"So I called Francine, and told her she should come along."

"Why?"

"Because," the blonde bombshell broke in. Leanne felt queasiness wash over her as she sensed what came next. "Last summer, before he went back to college, Jay —"

Leanne palmed her face. "Oh no."

"I'm sorry, Leanne. I didn't mean any disrespect. It was just twice."

"Twice?" chirped in Betty. Envy was clear in her tone.

"Yes. Two times. It was lovely, and exactly what I needed at that time. And I kept quiet enough that you never heard about it."

"But you told Neesa."

"She's my personal trainer, and a good friend."

"And," the aerobics instructor added, "I never told a soul before today." There was another pause of appreciation before she pressed on. "But I wasn't going to come to your house, Leanne, talk about Jay's sex life and lie to your face about Francine. I called her, and I told her that she had to come. You deserve to know everything. You can't contain the story if you don't know about all the players."

Leanne's face was in both hands now. The other four beauties sat in silence as she collected herself. "What in the world am I going to do about this?"

"Well," Betty murmured. All eyes fell on her. She focused on her friend. "I think a good start would be to forgive me and to be my friend again."

"Betty, now isn't the —"

"This is exactly the time and place. Nick keeps asking what's up between us. He doesn't understand why you won't talk to me or why I won't even try to call you to make amends. It looks strange, and others will notice in time. You know I'm not going to tell anyone what I did. I've got everything to lose. But it'll come out sooner or later if we don't mend things."

"The same thing goes for me," offered baby-blue-eyed Francine. "I mean you don't have to be friends with me, but you know that I have plenty to lose from the truth coming out. My lips are sealed."

"I'm not telling anyone, either," added Neesa. "I kept Francine's secret for a year, and I only shared it because of this unusual situation."

Sure, but what will you do when the next unusual situation comes up? How can I trust you?

She turned her gaze upon quiet Nora Walker. She was pale under normal circumstances. She looked like a pillar of salt sitting next to vivacious Neesa.

And what does she have to lose? Nothing. What am I going to do about Nora?

"I...I'm not going to tell anyone. Who would I tell?" she squeaked.

"You've already told Neesa. I don't know who else you might tell. That's what worries me. That's what I want to know."

Nora stiffened, and seemed to grow an inch or two. She found a little bit of spine as she looked at Leanne. "My word is my bond. If I make a promise, it is as good as steel."

Neesa nodded while staring at Nora with respect.

The school teacher sounded like a character in a book talking like she had. Had she retreated so much into fictional stories to escape her awful marriage?

Whatever. Leanne needed to take what she could get.

"But you haven't made a promise. Will you promise?"

Nora looked around the table, and considered the question. She was silent; weighing the consequences of keeping a promise like that.

Finally she spoke. "I'll keep the secret when I know the whole of it. When I understand what happened, I'll know when and where and how to lie...if I have to."

"You want me to tell you...?" Betty stumbled.

"You can't seriously expect —" Leanne jumped in.

"I'm sorry," said Nora. "I'm not trying to be difficult. I don't make promises lightly, especially when I may have to lie to keep them. If you want my word that I'll keep the secret, I will need to know everything. Otherwise my stories may conflict with things I never knew."

Francine couldn't conceal a small smile. "I wouldn't mind hearing about it."

Neesa smiled wider, and made an "Mmm hmm" in agreement. Sure. Who wouldn't want a juicy story about the young stud and his grateful neighbor?

I wouldn't, Leanne thought. But it looks like the only way out of this is through it.

"Fine," she finally allowed. "Let's hear it. We'll see if the truth can fix our friendship, and seal some lips. I'm going to need a glass of wine. Anyone else want one?"

***

I'm not going to say [Betty began] that having problems with your husband justifies sleeping around. But I at least want you to know that this wasn't something that I did on a lark. I didn't just feel like screwing around and never cared about the consequences. Context matters is what I'm saying.
I've been talking with Leanne for years about my problems with Nick. I've sat at this table many times over the years and talked about how hurt and lonely I've felt.

He's been losing interest for years; decades . He says I lost my shape after giving birth to my son Nate...my gods over twenty three years ago now. He says he can't help how he sees things; says he's tried to make good of it ever since. It was a slow decline. We each had our dry seasons over the first decade, but when we managed to reconnect it was always great. But the last...can it be ten years? The dry spells have gotten longer, and the way he looks at me and the way he talks to me...it's all gotten worse. It's been about a year since Nick touched me in a sexual way. Even then he acted like he was doing me a favor more than acting out of any attraction to me.

He says I'm getting fat and that it turns him off. He doesn't say I'm fat, mind you. He says I'm getting fat. I've sat in this living room (and the kitchen and the den) and moaned to Leanne about how desperate I am to feel desired. We've taken turns, each assuring the other, that she is a desirable woman.

Remember, Leanne? A week and a half ago I told you that even if I believed that I was desirable, it's not the same thing as actually being desired. And I've been starving to feel wanted, not pitied. I mean the feeling that a man is drooling for me; the feeling that he'll take me and be greedy to have an intimate time with me.

It turns out you weren't the only one who was listening.

[Betty looked at her lap and took a deep centering breath before continuing. The other four women remained silent.]

So about five or six days ago, Jay stopped by with some old comics he said he'd borrowed from Nate a few years before. I didn't know it then, but it was actually a pretense for him to pay me a visit. (Today those comics are lining the bottom of my panty drawer. I have no idea what I'll tell Nick if he ever finds them.)

I offered Jay a glass of lemonade, and he was eager to accept.

He asked about Nate and Nick and my garden. The whole time he kept his eyes locked on me. His smile was warm and confident. He seemed so interested in every word I had to say. I got the feeling there was nowhere else he'd rather be in that moment. He never glanced at his watch or phone. He never looked to the door or out the window. I was the only thing he wanted to see. That simple focused attention (from a man I imagined to be far too young for me) was enough to stir up a warmth in my belly.

It embarrassed me to be getting stimulated by Jay. He was far too young and fit and handsome to have any interest beyond that of a family friend. And, of course, he's your son, Leanne. So, I turned away from him to clean out my glass at the sink.

I admit I hoped to myself that he was still staring at me.

"I've been meaning to tell you that that's a great dress you're wearing, Betty," he said. I kept my back to him so he wouldn't see how easy it had been for him to make me blush.

"Really?" It was a white summer dress with splashes of primary colors.

"Yeah, it hints at what great legs you've got, but it doesn't give everything away." The hem stopped an inch or two above my knees. "I like how you leave some of that to mystery, but it still shows a lot of your back."

When I'd bought the dress I realized it exposed the bare skin of my back with its dipping backline. I liked how it complemented the short bob of my haircut. But I hadn't thought of it when I'd turned to the sink.

I turned back to Jay, embarrassed at my display. It hadn't been my intention to show off. After years of Nick's criticism I defaulted to shame. But Jay looked at me with shining eyes. The shame slid down my face to my chest to my belly and burned up as the heat increased down there.

That look of Jay's was what first got me wet.

He held up his hands in advance-apology. "And, I hope you don't get mad at my saying this, but I can't help appreciate how it hangs on *ahem* other parts of your back." My eyes must have flashed wide, because he leaped to add, "I don't mean any offence! I mean...you look...great in that dress." He looked down at the far corner of the kitchen and rubbed his nose before he added, "Really sexy."

Then he put his hands back in his lap and turned his face back to me. He looked me dead in the eyes, and refused to look away. He was saying something to me without words. At least I found a message there: I find you sexy. No if's and's or but's. No amendments. No conditions. No apologetics. You are sexy to me. Take that and do whatever you want with it. It was a message -- silent as it had been -- that left my ears ringing.

I'm not accustomed to men flirting with me; any men of any age, let alone this hard-muscled younger man. I scratched my ear, and looked at my shoes. "No! No offense taken! It's a sweet thing of you to say, and *hah!* a lovely thing for me to hear. But what about you, Jay? How are things going in college?"

"Fine."

"Yeah? Those sweet young college girls the ones who taught you how to compliment a woman on her dress?" I looked up for his reaction.

He shrugged, but never took his eyes off me. They seemed to be taking on a glint of hunger. "I suppose they helped," he answered. "But I would have liked your dress anyway."

I hadn't lost my mind, and I hadn't forgotten that this was my friend's son. So I stuck with the college girl theme to get away from my dress. "Well, thank you, Jay. What else did those college girls teach you? I bet they're wearing much sexier outfits, and giving you a lot of attention."

Thinking back on this exchange, I realize I was only half trying to return to the college girls. I swear I wasn't conscious of it at the time. But I can hear in it now, how I was fishing for more; more of what Nate never gave me and Jay seemed to be offering: Affirmation. Praise. Desire.

I wasn't thinking about having sex. It was making me horny, sure. But I only thought that this conversation -- at most -- would lead to a lovely session alone with Mr. Pink (my vibrator.)

But Jay took the conversation in stride better than me. He was still and calm at my kitchen table. Me? I stood there struggling not to rub my thighs together in front of the kitchen sink. He shrugged again like before. "Y'know it's funny. Two months ago a girl was flirting with me, and I didn't even realize she'd been flirting until hours later." We both laughed. He slapped himself on the forehead. "Hellooo! Earth to Jay! I don't know. Most girls...women my age, I mean, aren't clear enough for thick skulled guys like me."

"Maybe they're not sure what they want." I meant it, but it was hard to imagine a girl being unsure of wanting a guy like Jay. It's even harder to imagine now. "Maybe they're testing the waters to see if they're actually interested."

He listened like I was saying the most fascinating thing in the world. It held me in place, leaning back against the sink and counter.

He shook his head, though, and stood up. "You may be right, but I realized a few years ago that I prefer interacting with older women." He came around the table towards me, but didn't come any closer. Instead, he leaned back on the table and continued, "I find that I enjoy their company better. Like right now, y'know what I mean? You feel how nice this is too, right?" He made a gesture from his chest towards me and back to his chest again, implying connection. Interaction. The comfort of the exchange.

I did feel those things. I've known Jay most of his life. I've always adored him and welcomed his visits. I liked when he came with Leanne or to play with Nate when they were boys. But between my own neglect, Jay's compliments and the context of our talk, I felt more from the gesture. From two and a half feet away, it almost felt like he was touching me; pulling at me. He was beckoning to me. At least I imagined he was.