Betsy - Reawakened Ch. 13

"That is interesting. It makes me wonder what the people who create the cartoons are thinking. They're definitely targeting adults with them too. There's a lot of hidden messages. For instance, Daphne is obviously supposed to be the hotter of the girls, but I find myself more like Velma. She's smart, and she has a lot going on. Horrible hairstyle aside, her skirt is just as short, and you know she's hiding something pretty spectacular underneath that orange turtleneck. It's not hard for me to imagine her being the kinkier of the two."

"Interesting theory. I could see why you'd be drawn to that."

"Ha! Drawn. Nice pun!"

"Unintentional, but apropos. That said, the ones that appear prim and proper are often the kinky ones in their personal lives. I can see why you'd connect more with her character, even though you're built more like Daphne. Speaking of kinky, let me get your things out of the back of the van," he chuckled, holding his libido in check. He didn't want to assume that just because she was naked, and high, that something was going to happen between them. It seemed like a situation where he'd need to be invited rather than taking advantage of her.

She was amazed at the restraint he was showing. She figured most young men his age would have had their cocks out already. Instead he was moving around to the back of the van, opening the double doors.

Betsy got off the swing, walking toward the front of her carport. She wasn't going to go out into the driveway, away from the cover the house provided from the rest of her neighborhood, but she wasn't going to simply wait idly by.

He returned with four of Darren's suits, and her sleek red dress, each in it's own plastic protective bag.

"Was Doctor Hunter able to save my dress?" she teased.

He knew she was referring to his father, but he said, "Actually, Mrs. Doctor Hunter saved it." He lifted the front of the bag facing her, showing her dress was restored to perfect condition.

"What? Do you mean Bridgett?"

"Yes. As I turns out, she's apparently the expert at removing those particular types of stains. I didn't have the nerve to ask how, but I got the impression from Stan and Robin that it was more personal trial and error than professional experience. All I know for certain is they called her in specifically to work on it. She hadn't cleaned a dress in years. And she said she'd never had one that... covered. Darren was the talk of the shop for a few days. Janet wondered just how many times he came."

"Um... he came seven times, in about fifteen hours. But the stains on my dress weren't Darren. They were from the person I was with that night. Although he came seven times himself. I came at least twice that many. Probably more."

"Really? Dad said it was Darren."

"That's right. He did. I just didn't correct him. I'm sure you'll understand that I don't need the whole town knowing what kind of slut I can be. I like having my fun, but I have a family to think of. There needs to be some kind of discretion, don't you think?"

"Says the woman standing naked on her carport."

"I don't expect you to understand how my mind works. I'm not sure that I understand sometimes. I tend to make things up as I go. But standing here like this for you wasn't happenstance. You had to know I was expecting you. I even told your father what time to have you here."

"Trust me, I'm aware," he grinned. "Why were you doing it in the dress, though?"

"Because I don't care if people think I'm that way for my husband, and it appealed to that kinky side of me to bring it in and hand it like that to your father," she smirked.

"I see. So you went there to see him," he teased.

"I did... so I could see about getting you to come to the house more often, on days I'm allowed to play. Like today. You're welcome."

"Yes... thank you," he hissed, realizing she was indeed interested in doing more than just showing off her incredible good looks.

"So, how much time do you have?"

"Pardon?"

"Don't play coy, Wyatt. I'm sure you've been smart enough to carve out a little time for us to be together. How much time do you have before you have to get back to work?

"You know me too well, already. You asked that I be here around eleven-thirty. I'm purposefully fifteen minutes late. I'm going to give you the customary fifteen minute maximum we allow for our clients. Most visits are only five, and then we're gone."

"So, we only have fifteen minutes?"

"No. That's for me to drop off these," he said, holding the garment bags up a bit higher. "There's also time to ask if you have anything for me to take, although I know that will happen a week from Monday based on the new schedule. Plus, there's time to do any paperwork, and of course, exchange pleasantries."

"Yes! Yes, let's talk about exchanging pleasantries!"

"That's what we're doing now," he winked.

"I don't understand. Are we... not?"

"Not during my visit."

"Then, why are you looking at me like that?" she wondered, seeing the lust-filled expression in his narrowed eyes.

"Because, I'm about to go on my lunch hour, and I'm particularly hungry right now," he growled.

"Oh my God! Really!"

"We've got until one o'clock, if you have that much time."

"God yes! Come on inside. I've got to figure out where I'm going to fuck you first!"

"You do that," he snarled as he followed her sexy ass toward the door. "I already know where I'm going to eat you."

Once inside, she had him put the hangers on top of the doorjamb into the kitchen. She anticipated where he wanted her, and pointed at one of the chairs at the dinette table. He sat, while she picked up the phone on the wall by the pantry. She stretched the long cord, which allowed her to move about the entire kitchen. Climbing up on the table, she moved in front of Wyatt, scooting to the edge before spreading her legs for him. Pointing at her dripping cunt, she laid on her back and dialed.

Wyatt wasted no time, diving in, sucking hard at her hole. She moaned as she listened to the number ringing.

"Beck Manufacturing. Darren Thomas."

"Hi baby," she cooed, her eyes closing as she allowed the young man between her thighs even more access, widening them.

"Hey. How's that ass of yours this morning?"

"Very sore, thank you."

"Well, I wouldn't have had to...."

"Darren, I said thank you. I made a mistake, and you held me accountable. I'm very thankful you did it. Honestly, I'd be a lot more concerned if you hadn't. What we're doing demands accountability. You paddling me like that only makes me love you more."

"So you called to thank me for beating your ass raw."

"Yes."

"Okay. You're welcome," he chuckled.

"Mmmmmm," she mewled, Wyatt hitting a particularly welcome spot near her clit. Her off hand moved down her body, her finger slicing into his thick hair, holding him in place.

"Someone sounds horny."

"MMMMM...UUHHNNNAA!" she moaned loudly, stunned that he was bringing her close to her first climax really quickly.

"Damn Betsy," he sighed, "that is... sexy as fuck."

"Fuck! Yes! I want to fuck!"

"Uh... okay. I'll... I'll be home for lunch."

Wyatt heard her, and started to get up, thinking she was talking to him and wanted his cock that very moment. She had the opposite reaction.

"NOOOOOO!" she screamed, grabbing his hair harder, forcing him to keep munching her cunt.

"No? You don't want me to come home?"

"Yes. Pleeeaaassssee!" she growled between clenched teeth, her back arching as the tongue in her pussy dug deeper.

"Betsy... I'm confused. Do you want me to come or not?"

"Cum. I want to cum! Fucking make me cum, goddammit!"

"Ooohhhh, you're about to cum! You're masturbating."

"Oh, fuck yes! That's it!" she bellowed, her young suitor hitting all the right places. He'd even begun fingering her with two digits, firing them hard and fast inside her.

"That's it, my slutty wife! You love fucking yourself for me, don't you! You want me to tell you when to cum!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" she panted.

"Well you can't yet. You don't have my permission."

"I'm such a slut! I'm such a fucking, dirty slut!" she snapped.

"Pull your nipples for me, you dirty slut!"

She actually hadn't been paying attention to Darren. The phone was against her head, and she was babbling into the receiver, but the earpiece wasn't lined up. She was too preoccupied by what the orally talented man was doing to her cunt. Yet somewhere she must have heard her husband's commands. Letting go of Wyatt's hair, she curled her lower leg around his back, using the back of calf to press his head into her groin. That allowed her free hand to abuse her nipples, pulling and twisting them harshly.

"FUUUUUCCK!" she screeched, her lower body convulsing as he bit at her labia, sucking them hard into his mouth.

"God, that sounded so hot, sweetie. You need to cum bad, don't you."

"CUM! I NEED TO CUM! PLEEEASSEE!"

"Cum for me, Betsy. I want to hear it. Cum for me."

Wyatt turned his wrist over, spinning his fingers inside her pussy. Lining up his thumb, he pressed it against her anal opening.

"Fuck, yes! Do it! Stick it in my ass!"

"What!?" Darren questioned.

Adding a third finger to her pussy, Wyatt closed his hand, pinching his fingers and thumb together, as if were attempting to pick her up by grabbing her holes and holding on tightly. That move forced her clit bulge out, exposing it from it's hood. He latched on with his mouth and sucked on it wildly, the intensity of the vacuum effect and the way he battered it with his tongue sending her off.

"I'MMM CUUUMMMMIINNG!" she screamed.

"That's it! Cum for me you slut!"

"AAAAAGGGHHHH! AAAAGGGHHH! OHHMMMYYYGGAAAAAWWWWWD!

OHHMMYYYYYYYYYGAAAWWWD!"

It was without a doubt the most incredible sound Darren had ever heard. He wished it could have been recorded, the idea of being able to listen to it over again would surely make him instantly hard. It was like a mating call, and he found himself checking his watch, wondering how quickly he could finish the project he was in the middle of so he could race home and give her what she obviously needed. Perhaps even desperately, as she launched again.

"FUUUUUCCK! UUUGGGGAAAAAAA! OOOHHHHHHHNNNNNNAAAAA!" she exclaimed as she convulsed about the table.

Wyatt stood and began to quickly undress. In seconds he was as naked as she was. More so, since she still had her sexy heels strapped to her feet. He grabbed his fat cock and approached the edge of the table, using it as a weapon, slapping it against her soaked cunt.

That snapped her out of the blissful stupor she'd slipped into, literally making her squeal. Then she giggled as Wyatt toyed with her entrance, sliding the length of his shaft back and forth through her splayed lips, threatening to fuck her. She was practically drooling as she eyed his hard, lean body in the flesh.

"Don't tease me! Fuck me! I need that big cock inside me now!"

"Now? How the hell am I supposed to...."

"OOHHH FUUUCCCK YESSSSSSS!" she pleaded as Wyatt slowly sank his cock into her pussy. The entry made her legs begin to quiver, and she panted into the phone.

"Betsy!?"

"God, I love your cock! I feel so full!"

"BETSY!?"

"Huh?" she reacted, actually hearing Darren speak that time. More accurately, he yelled, and she realized not only was the phone still near her head, but her husband was still on the line. Through the euphoric state of her orgasm, she'd forgotten she'd even called him. "Oh... hi baby!" she giggled. That quickly turned into another long moan as Wyatt grabbed her ankles and began splitting her pussy hard and fast with his thickness.

"Betsy, what the fuck is going on!?"

"Oh... fuck! I... I'm... I'm fucking!" she panted once more.

"You're what!"

"I'm being... fuuuuuuuuuucked oooooh God! Fuck me! Fuck me, Wyatt! Fuck meeeeee!"

Darren listened intently. He could hear their bodies slapping together, the wetness of their coupling coming across the telephone line as clearly as if he were standing next to them. Of course, he couldn't have known she'd moved the phone itself.

She'd lifted herself up off the tabletop, using her right hand to hold onto his neck. His hands had shifted as well, letting go of her ankles, taking her by the upper arms, manhandling her biceps to hold her in place as he pounded her. Betsy's legs dangled, her ass on the very edge. In that position, her left arm hung by her side, her hand resting by her hip with the phone firmly clutched in it.

Darren was getting the audio feed of the explicit tryst they were sharing in his house. He wondered if they were on his bed, and she was using the phone in that room. Based on conversations they'd had in the past, that seemed farfetched at best.

"They're in the kitchen," he guessed, still unsure if he was correct. They certainly weren't in the basement. He'd yet to put a phone line downstairs in the rec room, something she'd been imploring him do for well over a year. "I need to do that this weekend," he said to himself, the odd circumstances of what he was listening to causing him to make the mental note to do what she'd asked.

Betsy pulled Wyatt to her, and they kissed like teenagers on a couch. It was wet and sloppy, with lots of tongue action and even more moaning.

"Fuck me! Fuck me with that big cock!" she implored.

"God, you're so fucking tight, you little slut!" he answered.

It was the first time Darren had heard his voice, and it rocked him. He wasn't consciously aware that he'd unzipped his own slacks, removing his cock. He'd been slowly stroking himself, his foreskin gliding over his head. Hearing Wyatt's voice, commenting on his wife's pussy, calling her the very thing she wanted to be at that moment... he had to do a full-stop, letting go of his cock like it was on fire, fearful that he was going to start cumming if he didn't.

Betsy had the opposite concern. Her next orgasm wasn't coming to her fast enough.

"Harder, baby! Fuck me harder!"

Darren blanched, the idea that she called him something so endearing leaving a pit in his stomach. He knew she was lost in the moment, and that it really didn't mean anything. Still, she was in the throes of passion, and to hear her express her desires in such a way was difficult to handle. At the same time, he was so turned on he would cum in less than five seconds if he touched his twitching cock again. As it was, he was leaking pre-cum in a steady stream, the crotch area on the outside of his pants becoming a mess.

He wasn't sure what to do. He felt frozen in time and space. His first instinct had been to make a mad dash for home. But obviously he hadn't been invited. It seemed an odd reaction to have. It was his house, after all. If she hadn't called, there was a small chance that he might have gone home for lunch and discovered them.

But she had called. He couldn't understand why though. Was it really just so he could listen in as she was being fucked senseless? He'd never experienced anything like it, and yet he had to admit it was an incredible rush. But the notion of that seemed a bit much. It wasn't like her to rub in her naughty inclinations in his face. She was only supposed to tell him about them, within a day. She'd been severely disciplined just the night before for ignoring that particular rule.

"Is that it? Is this her way of getting back at me for paddling her last night? Making me listen in so I know what she's doing...."

"FUCK ME WYATT!" came her latest scream.

"... and who's doing it to her!" he added, having to move the phone away from his head to keep from having his eardrum blown out.

The premise still seemed like a stretch to him. She wasn't the vindictive type. And he knew she'd been sincere when she'd thanked him for holding her accountable. He had been the one to bring up the disciplinary session he'd administered, doing so the second he'd answered the phone and realized it was her. To think she'd phoned him with this exact scenario playing out seemed too much to believe, even for someone as sexually adventurous as she was becoming again.

Betsy leaned back on her elbows and pulled her legs up and back opening herself as wide as she could in the position she was in. The hammering against her clit was incessant, her breasts bouncing wildly on her chest.

"Yea... eaaa... eaaa... eassssssssss!" she called out, her cadence following the way she was being slammed.

Darren stood, unsure what to do anymore. He wanted to be there. He wanted to cum. He wanted to hang up. He was a muddled morass of emotions. All he could bring himself to do was listen, his cock now dripping onto the blotter on his desk, staining the brown leather-like covering.

"Oh God, Wyatt! That's it baby! Make me cum! Make your slut cuuuummmm!"

Her scream was only lessened by the fact that the phone had slipped from her hand. She'd let it go, grabbing his biceps, holding them as they bulged. The long, curly tan cord was wrapped around her forearm, the phone moving back and forth as it swayed below the table.

Wyatt was leaning into her, him strong hands pawing at her heaving breasts, squeezing them. The heat between the two of them had reached the boiling point, and with her cumming on his cock, he was about to explode with her.

"Cum in my pussy! Cum in my fucking puusssyyy!"

"Fuuuuuccckk Yeeeeeeesssssssss!" he yelled out, slamming home, holding his pulsing shaft still as he unloaded his balls deep inside her.

Darren was struggling with the sound. He knew what was happening, the loud announcements clear in his head as to what was transpiring. What he couldn't figure out was why the sound was so distorted, seemingly loud one moment and distant the next. He couldn't have known the phone was swinging all over the place, the handset twirling around as the couple on the other end caught their breath.

Betsy winked at Wyatt, who leaned in for a kiss. She acquiesced, accepting his mouth, and tongue. But soon she was giggling as she felt his cock twitching inside her.

Squeezing it with her vaginal walls, she said, "Are you ready for round two already?"

"Yeah, babe," he confirmed.

"Good. Give me a second," she giggled. Pulling at the cord, she raised the phone. "Darren? Are you still there?"

"Yes," he answered, trying to hold in the emotions he was feeling, even though he really didn't understand them.

"Kinky man. Listening to your wife let another man cum inside her slutty little pussy. I figured you would have hung up by now."

"Well, I didn't," he replied, his reply short; almost curt.

"Sweetie, are you mad at me?" she asked, sensing the tension.

"No. Just confused."

"About what?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

Betsy put her hand on Wyatt's chest, pushing him off, his thick cock bouncing from the force she'd used to free herself. To his credit, he sensed the change. While he was in no danger of going soft anytime soon, it appeared it might become a problem getting his pants back on. From the reaction Betsy had talking to her husband, he couldn't help but wonder if their afternoon fun was coming to a quick end.

Wyatt had the good sense to leave her, departing for the living room, having a seat on the couch. Refusing to give up total hope, he slowly stroked his erection as he gave her some needed privacy.

"Darren Thomas! What is going on!? And don't you dare tell me nothing."

"I... I already told you. I'm just confused."

"About what, exactly?"

"About what just happened."

"You're going to have to give me more specifics than that, baby."

"Okay... that. That right there. I'm your baby."

"I just said that."

"Yeah. But you called Wyatt the same thing when you were, you know."

She was becoming perturbed. "I was being fucked by him, Darren. Say it."