Mad Men Everything Is New Again

Don Draper leaned against the outdoor bar sipping an Old Fashioned and watching the becrowned and bejeweled crowd mingle. He was on his fifth and already calculating a strategic exit. The garden party was the first donor event of the Folk Life Museum's first fundraising campaign and Don was thoroughly bored. The curtain had been drawn back only to reveal an endless series of hard handshakes and polite inquires into his profession, his non-existent pedigree, his broken family life. He had done his time chatting up the other board members, swatting off attempts to commandeer his time for various committee work, and had finally retreated to the bar on the far side of the garden, the one less trafficked. He stared out at the mass of smartly dressed men and chiffon-draped women and felt only dread.

Dread for what he would have to endure as a newly anointed member of this crowd. Dread of going home to his new wife. Dread of acknowledging that he had once again made a mess of his life. If anyone knew how to go through the expected motions of life it was Don Draper, but as he took another sip of his Old Fashioned and stared out at the crowd in a general, unfocused way, he sensed that he might not have the stomach for it anymore, and so he dreaded the awful unraveling of a life he was still just starting to ravel.

If he left the party early, he would be obviously missed. And then where would he go? Home to Megan? She would be thrilled to have the unexpected time with him, would likely even initiate sex—she had lately made it a habit to drop to her knees in front of him and take his cock in her mouth as a way of welcoming him home from work—and yet, Don had grown increasingly bored with her youthful enthusiasm. Of course, she had stopped working once they were married. Of course, she had taken up her duties as his wife with the seriousness that only a young bride can. Of course, she was accomplished and well-educated, and had she come along to the party with him, she would have fit right in and elevated him in the eyes of donor and board members alike with her breathless charm and finishing school wit. And yet. If he had to admit anything, he would have to acknowledge that his boredom with her had begun even on the honeymoon.

Don ordered another Old Fashioned with the dreadful thought that he was going to ruin another beautifully young and hopeful girl.

Alone at the bar, how unlike you.

A voice he knew well. A voice he knew so well he didn't need to look to know who it was. Betty. He turned and took in the sudden appearance of her. Had he not seen her in the crowd?

What? All the interesting woman are taken?

It took him a few moments to compute what she had said, but once he did, he simply said, Apparently not.

She almost rolled her eyes, as if she couldn't even be bothered to go that far. She took a sip of her drink. Something clear. Probably vodka.

You're here because why? Don wanted to know.

Betty tossed her head. Henry. Donors.

And yet Henry isn't here? There was something different about her that piqued Don's curiosity.

He saw that he had affected her, that she was the one computing unexpected information now. He took the moment to take her in, to observe the changes in her. He couldn't help but look her up and down and when his eyes returned to her face, he saw that this too affected her.

But then she shrugged. She scanned the room, disinterested, and said, Neither is Megan.

Don looked at her directly. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? He felt his dick come to attention.

She took another cool sip, finishing the class of whatever she had on the rocks. Have fun, she said as she looked at him directly now before setting the glass down on the bar and walking off.

Damn.

Don watched her walk off, her slow and nonchalant swagger as she headed across the green expanse of lawn to a clutch of potential donors. Had she done that intentionally? He felt his dick activated, ready. He watched her approach a group of five standing in a small circle, drinks in hand, polite conversation in full force. Betty entered the group effortlessly, bringing some joke or witty comment that made the whole group break out in knowing laughter.

And then he saw it. The man she stood next to reached his hand out in a friendly manner to her shoulder, laughing and placing it as if to acknowledge her witticism. Don watched as the man then let his hand fall casually down Betty's back, glancing off her shoulders down to the small of her back and then to her ass. He saw the man grab her ass and release it just as quickly. A lover's grab stolen in plain sight. Betty didn't break character at all but played to the crowd that couldn't see what was happening right in front of them.

And Don knew then. She had approached him. He hadn't been imagining anything: he knew what was different about her now. He watched her as she seemed not to acknowledge the man next to her while being very aware of him at the same time. Don knew that dance very well. His cock grew harder just watching her.

When she excused herself from the group, Don drained the rest of his drink, sat the glass down on the bar and took off after her. He watched the man from the group watch her leave, but he didn't seem to have any intention of following her. Don tracked Betty and she headed into the mansion's garden level doors. He quickened his pace so as not to lose her. Inside, the sudden darkness of the house made him stop and search for her. He heard high heels clicking on the tile floor and he saw her walking down a hallway looking into rooms as she went. A servant rounded a corner and Don heard Betty ask where the powder room was. The maid pointed and two doors down. Don hurried, passing the servant and Betty was already in the powder room and closing the door behind her when Don stuck his hand into the opening and stopped the door in its track.

Betty startled when she saw him. He stood holding the door and watching her, letting it all sink in, and when she didn't say anything, he pushed the door open and slide inside. He never took his eyes off of her as he closed the door behind him. He heard her take a sudden breath in as she backed up, her eyes widening at his boldness. He watched her as he felt up from the door handle for the lock, and finding it, very slowly turned it to the locked position.

What are you doing?

He let go of the lock and stepped towards her, reaching his hand up to her face and drawing closer to her.

What you want me to do. He leaned down and kissed her hard, pulling her towards him.

She gasped and struggled against him. He took advantage of her open mouth and thrust his tongue in while he slid his other hand down her bare back and onto her ass and grabbed her. He pulled her in closer so she could feel his hardening cock. And then she moaned and melted and Don knew he had her, all of her.

She met his tongue with hers and they deepened their kiss. She reached her hands out to his chest and then slid them around his ribcage until she embraced him completely, her breasts pressed hard against him.

Don slid his hand down her ass to the hem of her dress and then made his way up her thigh, bringing the dress up with him. He was so hard he knew he wouldn't last long and he didn't think Betty would either. He pushed her panties aside and felt her wetness and then he slowly pushed a finger up into her. She moaned again and thrust hard against his finger. And suddenly they were both breathing so heavily they had to break their kissing just to gasp air. Don yanked her dress up to her waist. Betty reached for his belt and started unbuckling it with a frantic determination while Don reached to unzip himself. They pulled his pants down together and when his cock sprang loose he shoved his hips forward so it would hit her high on the thigh.

Betty gasped again. He ripped her panties down and then guided his cock to her entrance and thrust up into her with a one long, clean stroke. Betty yelled out and Don sunk his head into the crook of her neck and he lifted her by her ass and she wrapped her legs around him. She bounced up and down on his cock and Don let out a deep, panting breath as he fucked her with an intensity he had never known before. He was buried deep inside Betty and then pulling out, fucking her so deep and hard he could feel his cock hitting her cervix. She was so wet and tight and he heard her panting and grunting in his ear and he felt his cock becoming engorged and he couldn't stop it. He was going to cum like a horny teenager after just a few strokes. And then Betty was falling apart on him, crying out as she began to cum and he felt her pussy clenching around his cock and he exploded into her. He stroked her hard and fast as he unloaded fully into her as she grasped at him and cried out, riding her orgasm all the way out to then end.

He felt her go limp around him and he staggered at the sudden dead weight of her, his knees buckling beneath them. He let her legs fall down and he reached for the sink to steady them, his cock slipping out of her in the process, his semen dripping out along with his cock. Betty's feet hit the ground, but she was wobbly and Don reached for her hips and grabbed her to keep her from crumbling to the floor. Don pressed his forehead against hers and they stood there panting onto each others face.

My, God, Betty said breathlessly.

Don felt their heat, the flush of his face, and he was overcome. He pressed in for a kiss. He opened her mouth with his tongue and kissed her deeply and slowly. Betty. God, he had missed her. He had missed her so much he never dared allow himself to even think how much he missed her. She responded to his kiss, lifting her hands to his head and pulling him hard against her mouth. They soon had to break for air, and Don began peppering her flushed face with light little kisses all over.

A knock on the door stopped everything in its track. Don looked at her but couldn't compute anything. He was trying to compute what they had just done.

Betty roused to the occasion.

It's taken, she yelled out. Then added, I'm sorry, I'm going to be awhile.

They looked at each other again, not daring to make any noise. Don staggered back from her and looked down at her dress crushed around her waist, her exposed pussy, the semen running down her inner thigh, her panties ruined on the floor. It was enough to almost make him hard again. He pulled his pants up and zipped them so they'd stay up, then he reached out to her thigh and wiped the semen up to her pussy and then scooped out more of the semen into his hand. He went to the sink to rinse it off, trembling as he did so. Then he grabbed a washcloth, wetted it and went back to clean her up. He looked at her and saw she was still trying to recover. He smoothed the dress down and then bent down for the panties, lifting her foot to release it. He balled them up and shoved them down into the wastebasket.

Sorry about the panties, he whispered.

Betty shook her head, as if trying to shake some sense into it. It's okay, she whispered back.

He buttoned his pants then buckled his belt. He searched her face, looking for something to say.

She watched him and could think of nothing to say either.

Finally, Don broke the silence. You should go out first, he said.

Betty nodded. She drew herself up, smoothed her dress down trying to sort out the new wrinkles and then went to unlock the door. She glanced back at him briefly before slipping outside, closing the door behind her. Don went to the sink and washed his hands, still trembling. As he dried his hands on the towel, the wastebasket caught his eye. Reaching down he pulled the panties back out. He pushed them into his pocket before opening the door and heading back to the party.