The three women pushed through the exit doors of the Sound Bar, weaved their way through the lines of people awaiting entry, and hailed a cab as an L train, sparks cascading from beneath its undercarriage, lumbered across the tracks above.
Piling into the back seat after her friends, Beth pulled the cab door shut behind her and fished the cell phone from her pink Prada handbag. She flipped it open and, careful not to chip her freshly manicured nails, dialed the connection to her voicemail.
"Hey, honey," began the first message. "Just calling to check in. I tried the house but got voicemail. Anyway, I've got a ten a.m. flight tomorrow and should be on the ground by noon or so. Give me a call on my cell, or I'll see you when I get home."
As the cab turned west onto Chicago Avenue, Beth lowered the phone from her ear and punched "7" on the keypad to delete the message. Her slender fingers brushing a few loose strands of her platinum hair from her cheek, she put the phone back to her ear and listened to the second message.
"Beth, this is Dan. Stacy Donovan gave me your number. Said to call if I wanted to get together; that you'd be expecting my call. I know its short notice, but if you're free tonight . . . Well, anyway. Give me a call. My number should be on your Caller ID."
She again cleared the message, folded the phone, and tucked it away in her handbag. She stared out the rain-streaked window as the cab passed Japonaise and crossed the north branch of the Chicago River. Her mind drifted as she thought about the competing phone calls, one from her husband, the other from Stacy's young fuck-toy. The dilemma that presented itself wreaked havoc on her simple mind but after a few moments of torturous contemplation, she shook it off.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Four," Mandy responded, checking her make-up in a compact, using the glare from the passing streetlights to reapply her lip gloss.
"For more drinks, stupid," Beth said laughingly.
Mandy rolled her eyes as she explained. "No. Four. F-O-U-R."
"Four?" Beth's brows knitted. She shifted on the bench seat, the tight Seven jeans uncomfortable in her seated position.
"Yeah. It's kinda new. New since you moved to burbs, anyway. It's up on Division, near Ashland.
"Hmph. Never heard of it."
Chrissy, sitting between them, laughed. "That's 'cause you rarely get downtown, Beth. Gotta get out once in a while. Live a little."
As the Checker taxi streaked up Milwaukee Avenue, Beth's gaze wandered to the window again. She fumed at Chrissy's comment. Mandy and Chrissy were old friends and the three women had just passed the mid-thirties mark. Mandy's husband had left her a few years back and Chrissy was still single. Beth felt they were jealous of her, having a husband with a nice salary and a big house in the suburbs. 'Live a little?' she steamed. 'Fuck you, Chrissy.'
The cab pulled up on the corner of the six-way intersection of Milwaukee, Division and Ashland and, after tossing a ten-dollar bill the cabbie's way, the girls piled out, crossed the street and strutted the half-block toward Four.
Before they arrived at the door, Beth stopped and tucked herself in a doorway, seeking shelter from the light drizzle.
"Hey, guys. I'll be in in a sec. I need to make a call real quick."
"Okay, sweetie," Mandy called over her shoulder as the bouncer waived her and Chrissy past the wet line waiting to get in.
Once Mandy and Chrissy were out of sight, Beth opened her cell phone and pulled up the "received calls" log. There was no name attached to the most recent call and she didn't recognize the number.
She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, her breasts jutting forth, then exhaled, all the while watching the cars flash by on Division. Having resolved the conflict in her mind, she shrugged her shoulders, hit "Send" on the phone's keypad and put it to her ear.
* * *
In his condo in Lincoln Park, Dan had just stepped from the shower and was toweling off when the phone rang. He walked from his bathroom into the bedroom and retrieved the chirping phone from his bedside table.
"Hello?" he answered, wrapping the towel around his waist.
"Um, hi. Dan? This is Beth."
A smile crept across his face at the sound of the soft voice. It had an innocent quality to it, high-pitched without being squeaky.
"Uh. How are you?"
"I'm doing well. How about you?"
"I'm, uh, I'm fine. Just out with some friends."
"Havin' fun?" he asked, falling back onto the bed, the towel still draped around him.
"Yeah, I guess. It's all right."
"Doesn't sound too fun."
"Um, well, you know. Same ol', same ol'."
Dan hesitated before responding. 'Slow and steady wins the race?' he wondered. 'Or the early bird gets the worm?'
"Wanna come over?" he asked, making up his mind almost before the questions formed.
"Well, uh, sure. I guess."
Dan laughed lightheartedly. "Don't sound too enthused."
This time it was Beth who hesitated. "What do you. . ." she began, before Dan interrupted her.
"Excited. Don't sound too excited."
"Oh, yeah." Beth laughed, having gotten it. "It's not that. It's just, well, just that I don't know where you live or anything like that."
"Well, I'll tell you and you can hop in a cab. How's that sound?" Dan pushed himself off the comfortable bed and walked to his dresser, pulling a pair of boxers from the top drawer.
"Um, sure. That'd be great."
He grunted out his address while pulling the boxers and then a pair of gray cotton shorts over his muscular hips.
"Okay," Beth said. "I'll be there in a little bit."
* * *
As Dan hung up the phone, Beth stood on the sidewalk in front of Four, repeating his address over and over again in her head, a slender arm waving above her head trying to find a cab.
Her thick nipples stood erect in the unseasonable but still cool evening breeze. It took only a moment for a taxi to spot the little blonde strumpet and swerve hard to the curb.
She climbed into the cab and as it accelerated away from the curb, she gave a mental wave goodbye to her friends.
'How's this for living, you bitch?' she asked Chrissy.
* * *
Pulling a tee-shirt over his head, Dan wandered into his living room, muted the television and turned on the stereo. A few minutes later, his phone rang; the pizza had arrived. After he paid the delivery guy, he filled a plate with slices of pizza and sat in front of the TV as he recalled Beth.
He had met her husband several years ago at a party hosted by one of his father's friends, Keith Thomason; Beth's husband worked for Mr. Thomason. He was, in a word, an asshole; a habitual drunk and womanizer who, with his heavy travel schedule, cheated on his wife as often as he could. It turned out that Beth was no better in the fidelity department.
Before Keith's wife, Stacy, had left for Naples for the winter months, she had given Dan Beth's number, urging him to call her if he desired. This particular evening, after having seen his old fuck-buddy Kelly in the Elephant & Castle, that desire blossomed.
Dan's cock stirred in his pants when his land-line chirped twice, indicating someone calling from the secured entrance downstairs. After buzzing her in, he took his plate into the kitchen before opening the door, waiting for Beth to step from the elevator.
He heard the elevator ding and, a moment later, Beth turned the corner and strode the thirty feet towards his door. Dan mentally gasped as she came into view. He knew her to be thirty-five, maybe thirty-six, but she had aged well. A pair of leopard print spike heels donned her small feet and tight jeans clung to her well-toned legs. A form-fitting tee-shirt that looked as though it came from Baby Gap hugged her torso, accentuating a massive pair of surgically enhanced breasts that jiggled just slightly as she strode down the hallway. Dan figured that she must be wearing a paper-thin bra, designed to be invisible beneath the tight shirt, insofar as it failed to conceal her hardened nipples.
"What, no coat?" Dan asked by way of introduction.
Beth laughed as she came to a stop before him and shrugged her shoulders; the movement caused her large breasts to rise and fall on her trim torso. "I'm always afraid I'll lose it, or someone will steal it," she answered, her voice delicate, feminine.
Dan extended his hand and she took it with a single-pump shake. "Nice to meet you," he said. Though her fingers were cool, her flesh was soft, supple.
"Um, you, too." Dan released her hand and stepped aside to allow her entry. As she passed, her perfume wafted through his nostrils and he inhaled deeply. Her scent reminded him a gentlemen's club he had recently visited in Atlanta, that elusive scent worn by strippers the world over.
Beth stepped into the living room and turned to face him, her bag still slung over her shoulder.
"Here, let me take that for you," he said, approaching her.
"Thanks. I've heard a lot about you," she announced, her thin jaw working on a piece of Juicyfruit. "From Stacy, I mean."
"Great lady," he proclaimed over his shoulder as he stepped into the living room and placed her handbag on the coffee table. "I've known her for years. Practically grew up with her husband."
"Uh, yeah. That's what she said. She and I really get along good. We see each other a lot. My husband, his name is Rick, he works for Keith."
"I know. I met your husband a few years back at the Thomason's." He returned to the foyer and beckoned the little tart to follow him. "Come on. Follow me into the kitchen. Can I get you a drink?"
"Uh, sure. I'll have a beer or something, if you have any."
Beth followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at one of the bar stools on the dining side of the kitchen's island.
"Anyway, I met him – and maybe you, too – at some party the Thomasons were throwing," Dan explained, pulling two beers from the refrigerator, popping the tops, and setting one on the island in front of her.
Beth blushed slightly at the continued discussion of her husband. Part of her was embarrassed. She knew, and Dan knew, that she was here for one thing: to spread her legs. Discussing her husband with the young man she was about to debase herself for was a little uncomfortable for her, but not really anything new.
Beth took a swig from the bottle, her shiny pink lips pursed around the head of it, and set it on the counter.
"So, where's Rick tonight?"
"Traveling," she informed him, twirling platinum tresses between her pink fingernails.
"Does he travel a lot?"
"Here and there, I guess." Beth took another drink of her beer, looking around Dan's condo. From her perch on the bar stool, she could see into the living room and down the hallway toward the bedrooms.
"Must be kind of boring for you, huh?"
"Nah, it's okay. I have lots of friends and we go out and do stuff."
Dan mentally rolled his eyes. 'Oh, Stacy. What did you get me into? This chick better fuck like a minx for me to put up with this crap.'
Aloud, he asked, "What kind of stuff?"
"Shopping, spa days, getting our nails done. You know, stuff like that. See, I got my nails done today." With child-like excitement, Beth spread her fingers, hands palm down on the granite countertop. "Pink. It's my favorite color."
"I can see that," Dan murmured, his cock stirring in his pants at the contrast between the lovely but none-too-bright woman's beautifully manicured hands, adorned with gold engagement and wedding rings, against the deep black countertop. 'Married pink is my favorite color,' he thought to himself.
"So . . .," he said aloud, draining his beer and pulling another from the refrigerator.
"So . . .," she mimed him. Beth took a deep breath, put the bottle to her full lips, and finished it off. Setting it on the counter, she smiled at him, an odd mix of coy and alluring. "Mind if I get another beer?" she asked, sliding off the barstool and sauntering around the island toward Dan and the refrigerator.
Beth smiled again before pulling the door open. She bent and grabbed another beer from the shelf. Turning to face him, she twisted the top off and took a sip. She took a step closer to him and her free hand reached out, her polished fingertips grazing across his muscled chest.
"You didn't really invite me over here to share beer with you, did you?" she inquired, a glint in her eye, her head cocked to one side, her hips to the other.
Her soulful baby blue eyes staring up at him, Dan shrugged and smiled before bringing the bottle to his lips.
Beth smiled back, her pink, wet-look lips parting to reveal gleaming white teeth. She moved across the kitchen and deposited the bottle cap in a trash can before leaning a denim-clad hip against a counter. She folded her lean, tanned arms beneath her generous breasts, causing them to swell in the tight top.
She arched an eyebrow waiting for a verbal response and, when she didn't get one, pushed away from the counter. She ambled back across the kitchen to him, her hips swaying provocatively, and set her bottle on the countertop.
Beth stood before him, her breasts, engorged nipples evident through the thin fabric, almost touching the top of his stomach. She looked up at him and tilted her head to one side, a look of lustful amusement passing through her glimmering eyes, across her full lips.
"Is that a no?" she whispered, running a pink manicured finger down the center of his chest, following the contours of his stomach muscles, stopping just above his bellybutton.
A chill ran up Dan's spine. He merely shook his head.
Beth mimicked his actions, her bright blonde hair brushing across her shoulders as she shook her head in time with his. "No . . . I didn't think so."
She traced her finger back up to his chest, across the top of his pectorals and around a crinkled nipple. The long nails of her left hand closed around it, tweaking him lightly, causing him to shudder.
Beth dipped her head slightly, leaned into the young man and touched her lips – softly – to his tee-shirt covered chest. Her firm breasts squished against his stomach and she heard him groan from deep within.
Up on her tip toes, her small hands and slender fingers spread across his chest, she brushed her lips along the neckline of Dan's shirt, her tongue straying from between her lips to swipe at his exposed flesh. He tilted his head slightly away from her and Beth's searching mouth closed around his earlobe, hot breath tickling his inner ear.
"I know what you want me here for," she breathed, causing goose bumps to break out across his flesh.
"Ugh," Dan managed to grunt, Beth's hands sliding down his chest, over his tense stomach muscles.
"You wanna put this," she began, her voice barely audible as the long fingers of her right hand closed over the fabric encasing his pulsing shaft, "in my little married cunt."
She bit hard on the last word.
"Oohh, gawd," Dan groaned, his knees threatening to buckle.
Beth lowered herself from her tip toes and slowly pulled the hem of his shirt up, exposing the smooth flesh of his stomach. She pulled the shirt higher and bent her head, trapping one of his nipples between her wet lips, swirling her hot tongue around the hardened flesh.
Dan put a hand on the back of the older woman's head, pulling her face tighter against his chest. He gathered a handful of platinum tresses in his fist, ensuring that she stayed there.
Her wet tongue manipulated the light brown flesh that surrounded his nipple while her hands caressed down his rib cage, long nails tickling his skin. When she reached the waistband of his gray cotton shorts, she hooked her manicured fingers in them and pulled down; with a whisper, they fell over his muscular legs before pooling at his ankles.
Holding Dan's shirt above his waist, Beth knelt in a squatting position, his thickening cock bobbing before her angelic face. She looked up at him, again tilting her head to one side, their eyes meeting in anticipation.
Her tongue darted out, swiping at the head of his cock, sending it bobbing again, and she giggled. Dan's eyes almost rolled up into his head and he threw his head back, eager for her touch.
When his cock became still again, Beth's hands still at his stomach, her tongue idle, he righted his head and opened his eyes to find her staring at him.
"Yes?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him, her voice dripping with false innocence.
His eyes pleaded.
Her sparkling blue eyes still locked on his, she tilted her head further and brought her face beneath his protruding shaft, teasing him. His cock head brushed lightly against her lightly powdered cheek, leaving a faint trail of pre-cum along her skin. Her full, wet lips only millimeters from his hanging balls, her hot breath caressed the soft flesh of his bloated sac.
She again arched an eyebrow at him, a playful look in her eyes. She ran her soft tongue across her pink lips before extending it, wiggling it gently against his balls.
"Please," he moaned.
Beth smiled sweetly and pulled her head back, the length of Dan's shaft running along her upper lip. She inhaled his just-showered scent deeply. "Goooood boooy," she murmured as the head of his cock passed beneath her nose, trailing a pearlescent stream of pre-cum behind it.
When her pretty face had cleared the engorged shaft, she sat back on her haunches, her heels digging into her lean thighs. With her attention focused on Dan's cock still bobbing before her, Beth raised her left hand to it, slowly closing her fist around it while running her tongue over her upper lip. "Mmm," she moaned, savoring the taste of his sperm on her tongue.
Seeing Beth's slender fingers – pink manicured nails and gold wedding and engagement rings – close around his shaft, Dan again threw his head back, nearly overcome with lust at the image. "Uuuhhhggg," he groaned.
Below him, Beth merely smiled.
"Tracy told me this'd be easy," she said quietly, rising to her feet with her fist still wrapped around Dan's cock, tugging it gently, enjoying its heat searing into her soft palm.
"Wha?" Dan muttered, his tongue thick and dry.
Beth pushed him against the counter, urging him up onto the island. "She said to flash this," she began, holding up her left hand, palm toward her, the diamonds of her engagement ring glittering in the bright overhead light of the kitchen. Dan pulled his tee-shirt over his head and threw it behind him. He then put his hands behind him and lifted himself to the countertop, his cock slipping from her grasp.
"Flash this," she continued as he scooted back onto the island, "and he'll do anything – anything – you want, she said."
Urging his legs apart, Beth moved between them and leaned over his prone body, bracing herself on one elbow. With her free left hand, she found his cock, standing erect, the tip glistening in pre-cum. She smoothed the pad of her index finger across the slit, slickening it with his fluid, and slowly traced a line down the underside of his shaft.
"So, Dan . . . will you do anything – anything – I want?"
Dan, bracing himself on his elbows, looked down his sculpted stomach at the adulterous woman and grunted and nodded his assent. Beth closed her fist around him again and tugged his foreskin downward; the head of his cock swelled and turned shiny and a stream of pre-cum leaked from the tip before coursing down the length of the shaft.
Beth pulled her fist back up his length, collecting the natural lubricant on the way, smoothing it around the overheated flesh.
"Will you slide this cock into me?" she asked him, her baby blue eyes fixated on the twitching shaft ensconced in her clenched fist.
"Will you stretch my pretty little vagina?" she inquired, her long pink tongue darting out and bathing the purple head of his cock, collecting his leaking sperm from the open slit.