The Arms - Contradictions

A flawed man becomes involved with a troubled woman and a new relationship begins, characterized by both conflict and a common need. If you've read any of the other Excelsior Arms stories of mine, you know these people.

Gwen shook her mother, trying to wake her. Again. This was getting way out of hand!

"Mom! Get up, please? Dad'll be home soon, and Robbie and I are hungry. Are you gonna fix something for dinner or not?"

Karen Johnson dragged her eyelids open with no small amount of effort. "Okay, okay," she groaned, "I'm getting up. Please don't shout." She was sprawled across the sofa still fully dressed, although her short skirt had ridden up her thighs, and the plainly visible panties were showing stains of questionable origin. Robbie, the 14-year-old, had averted his eyes after a couple of quick glimpses. Gwen, who was 16, suspected her mother was up to something, but she didn't want to think too much about what it might be. She was having her own problems, related to the boys at school. But, GAWD! Did her mom have a lover now?

'Omigod, that would freakin' kill Dad!' It was hard to even think about.

"Mom!" She got Karen's attention again. "Hey, listen! Straight up, is there anything you want to talk to me about?"

Karen was, by now, pulling her skirt down, attempting to rescue some of her dignity. She imagined what she must look like to her kids. It was a sobering moment. But the memories of her day quickly returned. She turned to Gwen, raising her eyebrows in a mock-innocent manner and tried not to smile. Her daughter was so serious!

"What, sweetie," she said, putting her hand on her daughter's arm. "Are you thinking your mother might actually have a life beyond keeping this crappy apartment up?" She blew her hair away from her forehead in a huff. "No," she said, "I'm just the same boring mother I'm always expected to be. I just get tired, you know?"

Karen was now heavily addicted, thanks to Jamarcus, the black drug dealer she'd submitted herself to on so many occasions. His plan had worked on the 38-year-old, the same as it worked on a lot of his younger girls. "Hook 'em and work 'em" - that was his business model. It rarely failed. If your prettiest customers needed your product that badly, they should help to drum up business, right? Karen's MILF body, still in decent shape, had been fun to play with, but it worked even better as a sales tool. And the best thing for him was, she seemed to crave the sex as much as the product. Three months in, and she was his favorite slut.

Karen was becoming well-known in the worst parts of town. She was beginning to recognize this, but reluctantly. She had very few options at this point. She

needed

the highs. The lows - being used, sometimes brutally, by the worst class of men and sometimes women; the physical craving for orgasms, the wretched times after - were having their effect on her, physically. Twice she'd had to be treated for STDs, and her cocaine need was only growing. She kept a 'kit' in the bathroom at home, tucked behind the feminine products below the vanity, for when she absolutely could not function without a hit. Her mouth and eyes were permanently dry. She wore more and more makeup.

Brady Cobb had not missed the woman's change in appearance, even if her husband still seemed oblivious. He watched her leave the building and then return later, looking thoroughly used. His own affair with the Chinese woman on the same floor, Sue Lin, had become a little monotonous. He saw a new opportunity in Karen.

"Good morning," he announced behind her, as she was exiting her front door the next morning. She turned quickly, startled, like a cat with a bird in its teeth.

"Oh! Hi," she replied. "I didn't see you there."

She looked more than a little slutty today. Her usual short tight skirt, and a sleeveless knit top that showed a fair amount of side-boob, were only part of it. Though she wasn't stacked, her breasts were on display and stood out proudly without a bra. Her nipples were practically poking through the thin material of the top. Her heels, easily 4 inches, would look more appropriate on a stripper stage. It was the almost feral look on her face that completed the picture.

"Looking good, Mrs. J," he told her.

"I... oh, thank you," she said. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."

Brady laughed. "Well, we haven't really met," he countered. "I'm Brady Cobb." He put out his hand and she shook it, kind of formally. "I'm up on three." He didn't release her hand immediately, enjoying the feel of her soft skin in his hand.

"Nice to meet you," she replied curtly, seeming eager to go.

"Well, now that we've been properly introduced, I hope to see you again," he said. He was blocking her exit, he knew. He hoped she'd try to brush past him, but she seemed confused about how to react.

"If I'm keeping you from something, I apologize. But when someone who looks like you graces my building, I have to enjoy the moment." Grady smiled broadly. In truth, he'd been noticing her for some time now.

Karen mumbled, "oh, well. Thanks. No, I... it's... sort of an appointment." She hesitated and smiled, obviously beginning to enjoy the male attention. Since she'd first become aware of the appeal of her lush body to younger men, she'd become much more attuned to the possibility of sex. She'd been fucked by a few "seniors" through Jamarcus; men old enough to be her father. As long as they had hard dicks, she didn't discriminate. Now she was beginning to see Brady in that light.

Grady reluctantly released her hand. "Well, I don't want to keep you," he said, "unless you really don't have to run. I was going to take a little walk around; check the neighborhood and get some air. I could use some company?"

Karen considered. What the hell. Jamarcus wasn't a morning person. She often had to drive around for quite a while, waiting for him or Coyote to 'open up shop', as they called it. His customers usually dragged in later, so after satisfying Jamarcus and Coyote, she was made to wait. "In case you're needed," Jamarcus would tell her. Of course, she was

always

needed. Only then would she get her supply for the day.

"Uh, I've got a while, sure," she told Brady. He seemed nice, and he was definitely appealing. She was already imagining what his cock might feel like.

"Let me take off these heels."

They walked outside and down the street, and she found herself captivated by the man's stories and how he seemed to know everyone they passed. By the time they were two blocks away, she felt her need growing. For two things.

"Mr. Cobb," she interrupted, "Grady, I mean. Can we go back now? I'm not used to walking this much." She still held her heels in her hand.

"Oh, of course. That was thoughtless of me. I bet you could use a foot massage about now."

She moaned softly, and looked down at her shoes. 'More than that,' she thought to herself. Grady was still turning on the charm, complimenting her on how sexy the heels had made her legs look, and asking where she found them. He small-talked her all the way back to his apartment on the third floor.

"C'mon in for some water," he invited. "You look a little flushed." He had her sit on his sofa, which looked worn, but appeared clean. She leaned back, stretching her legs out as he got them bottles of water from the fridge, and he watched her for a moment.

"I didn't mean to tire you out. How about that foot massage?"

Without waiting, he reached for her foot, raising it to rest in his lap as she took a sip of the cool water. If she noticed the view she afforded him up her skirt, she didn't appear to mind. He took a long draw from his own bottle, resting his other hand over the scar on her knee, now almost fully healed. "You must have been a dancer," he said. "You've got lovely legs. Was that how you hurt your knee?"

Karen leaned her head back on the cushion and laughed as she dropped her heels on the floor.

"No, nothing so noble," she told him. "I twisted it on vacation last year, and it just got worse and worse. I hate fucking tree roots!" She flexed her toes as his hands began to work on her foot and ankle. "Gosh, that does feel really good."

Brady watched her close her eyes, reveling in the moment. He massaged the skin of her foot, then ventured northward. "Your calves are tight," he observed. "Those heels..."

"Mmmm, hmmm," she agreed, willing his hands up her leg by sliding her bottom towards him.

"Let's see the other leg."

She raised her left leg and he cradled that foot in his lap, but barely spent any time on it, instead using both hands to rub her calves. He had one eye on her panties, which she didn't mind showing as she allowed her knees to separate. She was breathing deeply now, enjoying his touch.

Brady shifted beneath her, and ran his hands up over her quadriceps. "Your legs are very smooth," he breathed. She slid closer to him, still with her eyes closed. His hands pushed her skirt higher, exposing her damp panties, and he slid his hands all the way up to them.

Karen only moaned, giving him permission to massage the fronts of her legs, his thumbs often grazing over her throbbing mound. Finally she opened her eyes, gazing into his.

"I think... this is going somewhere, Mr. Cobb. Maybe we should get these out of the way?" she asked in a seductive voice.

His answer was to move over her, his hands searching for the zipper of her skirt. Not finding it quickly, he began to bunch it in his fingers, pushing it upwards until she raised her ass off the sofa and the skirt was up around her hips. On the way down, his fingers hooked into the sides of her panties. He drew them slowly down and she raised her legs from his lap to allow him to slide them off. Her pussy was glistening with desire.

Brady pulled one leg up and over his shoulder, positioning his face at her crotch. She smelled good down there; only slightly musky, with a hint of some flowery perfume on her thighs. He placed his nose against the sparse pubic V and extended his tongue to touch her there. She stared down at him eagerly.

"Ahhhhhh, god," she sighed. It had been so long since anyone had done this for her. She raised her hips to him, and his tongue separated her damp folds, wiggling inside her. "Oh!" she gasped, craving more. "Oh, god!" She slid her fingers into his long hair, pulling him closer. She threw her head back as the waves of pleasure washed through her.

Brady's tongue was everywhere. He stiffened and drove into her, then swept upwards from the bottom of her cunt, spreading her labia and tickling the tender flesh just inside. His hands caressed her thighs, eventually raising her legs so that he could also tease her puckered little asshole. When he concentrated on her clitoris, she arched her back and began to cry out.

"Oh! Oh, god, ohhhhhmyfuckingodddd, oh yes! Yes! YESSSSS!" Her legs began to shake as her climax swept upward from her pussy, consuming her entirely. Her cries devolved into a series of guttural utterances. Brady kept up the attention to her clit, until she began to physically push his face away at last.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, "you're gonna kill me doing that!" She laughed, still feeling the reverberations through her whole body.

As she descended from her orgasmic high, she lowered her legs slowly, at last resting her calves on his shoulders. He was in no hurry to give up on orally pleasing her, knowing he could reap the obvious rewards at any time, and she was in no mood to stop him. Her fingers played in his hair as he lapped at her steady supply of juices. His lower face was frothy with her cum, further smeared as he burrowed again into her overly sensitive cunt. She laughed and slapped playfully at his head.

"You better fuck me before I pass out," she teased.

Her voice was raspy with need, but she kept her fingers in his hair, not discouraging him from eating her for as long as he wanted. She was delirious with the pleasure long denied her, though she wanted to feel his cock inside her as well.

As he raised his head to say something to her, her phone buzzed.

She'd been holding onto it, as she did when Jamarcus or the others fucked her. She told herself it was in case of an emergency call from one of her kids or Sam, but more correctly, she felt a sense of safety when it was with her. It didn't make sense, but there it was. She glanced at it, now. It was Jamarcus, no doubt wondering why she hadn't shown up. He'd never called her number before.

"Baby," she said suddenly, "I've gotta go."

Brady raised his head to look into her eyes. "Really?" he asked. "Right now?" His dick was throbbing, aching to explore her depths. "I've got a lot more to do for you," he countered. At that moment, her phone vibrated again.

She dropped her eyes. "I'm really sorry, Brady. I promise, I'll make it up to you later." She was already pulling her knees in, disentangling herself from the man; in a rush to roll off his sofa and get to her feet. "I... I just have to go. It's important, please don't be angry with me..."

She was soon stepping into her panties and pulling them up her legs. Her skirt pulled down and smoothed, she began to look around.

"Where's my shoes?" she said breathlessly, "I need my shoes!"

Brady rose and pulled them from beneath the sofa. "Here."

He clearly wasn't happy, but he was more surprised by her sudden reversal. Who had this kind of control over her, and what was their leverage?

As she quickly kissed him and hurried out his door, he decided to follow her. He had to know; his sense of pride demanded it.

HIs car was directly in front of the building, so by the time she got to hers, he was idling; waiting for her to drive past him. He allowed two cars to get between them, but kept her in sight. He was good at this. She led him through downtown, then out into the commercial area that had fallen into such disrepair. When she parked in front of an abandoned-looking warehouse building, he was further intrigued. He passed her and pulled over down the street, backing his car into a driveway so that he could observe her. When she knocked at the door, then was admitted by a sketchy-looking black man, he asked aloud, "whatever are you involved in, sweetheart?" He locked the car and shuffled along the side of the building, towards a small window.

It was crusted with cobwebs and dust, but a careful wipe allowed him a view inside the dark building. The only light came from a small room at the back, so he moved to the rear of the building. He could hear a man yelling from there.

"Whatchu mean you was busy?" he heard. He had to assume it was Karen receiving the dressing-down. He put his ear to the siding, and heard a loud slap.

"I got customers need a little convincin' to buy my product," the voice said. "And I OWN you, so you get that sweet white ass out there for them, and start doin' what you do, if you want your sugar! You hear?"

Sugar?

Brady observed another small window, but it was too high to reach. He looked around and saw an old metal drum, but doubted he could pull it next to the building without attracting attention to himself. INstead, he leaned his ear against the thin metal siding, and tried to discern what was going on inside.

He heard men in conversation, talking about different things, and behind that - what sounded like whimpering; grunting. It sounded like sex, he thought, but who were all the voices, and why did they seem so disconnected to the other sounds? Then he heard a loud male voice.

"Fuck, this white slut 'bout to pinch my dick off!" the man proclaimed. There was laughter; what sounded like a half dozen men.

Was Karen fucking these low-life guys? And why? As Brady considered this, there was only one answer.

'Somebody's got a monkey on their back.'

The thought distressed him. She had a husband; two cute teenage kids. Had she descended into fucking a bunch of drug dealers for her own fix? Brady shook his head. 'Not for me to know,' he told himself, but he promised himself he would stay until she left, if only to make sure she was safe.

When Karen Johnson stepped out the door of the building 3 hours later, she hardly looked the same. Brady shook himself to awareness, watching her walk on shaky heels to her car. Her skirt was crumpled and streaked with stains, her top stretched and pulled to one side. She took no notice. Her breasts, those tits he'd been so eager to fondle, still stood out proudly; the nipples pressing against the thin material. Her hair was mussed and matted, and her eyes held a haunted look, as if she didn't know quite where she was.

"She's high as a kite!"

Brady raced back to the Arms; parked and waited at the landing on the stairs.

It wasn't hard to hear her arrival. Her heels echoed off the floor of the wooden foyer as she made her way to the elevator at the back, a staccato clomp-and-drag rhythm, as if one foot wasn't working well with the other. 'Her knee,' he thought. 'She probably spent a lot of time on those knees in there.'

As Karen exited the gloomy elevator he saw he'd been correct. Her knees were red and looked slightly swollen, especially the surgically repaired one. He started towards the open cab.

"Oh, hey," he said, seemingly startled. He couldn't have been caught any more off-guard than she was. She stared at him in the dim light of the hallway for a moment before recognizing him.

"Oh, hey, yeah," she muttered. "I was hoping I'd see you again." She picked up the hand holding her phone and glanced at it, perhaps checking the time. "Maybe I'll see you later," she said, and started to go around him.

Brady took her shoulders in each hand and stopped her. "You look a little disheveled," he told the MILF. "Why don't you come up to my place and clean up a little before you go home." He nodded meaningfully at her.

Karen started to argue, then thought better of it. She let him lead her back into the elevator, where the car still waited.

"I only have a few minutes," she told him, "my kids will be home from school soon."

Brady started to laugh, but thought better of it. "I think they're already home," he said, "but don't worry about them. Let's get you straightened up, so you don't have to do any explaining."

Why he was doing this, Brady had no idea. 'Perhaps,' he thought, 'I'm not totally without feelings.' He grinned to himself as he watched her fingers hover over the floor buttons, then reached around her and pushed 3.

"Won't take a moment," he assured her.

In his apartment, Karen practically fell onto the sofa, letting her head fall back into the cushions. "I'm sorry," she apologized feebly, "I'm usually more together than this."

He looked down at her. Her legs were sprawled wide open and she wore no panties. He had to assume they'd been stripped off of her and discarded somewhere. The beautiful pussy he'd worshiped with his tongue this morning looked as distressed as her knees. He got a washcloth and cleaned her face, removing the last of the smeared makeup and dried cum from her face and hair. Despite her ordeal, she was still attractive, he thought. Perhaps, more so.

Karen's eyes opened and she looked up into his.

"Maybe I have a little while?" she said and grinned seductively. She was enjoying his attention, and remembering this morning.

He leaned over and kissed her quickly. "You have time for coffee," he said, and got up to brew it.

Thirty minutes later she was alert and once again apologizing for taking up his time. "I owe you one," she added meaningfully. "Seriously. Maybe tomorrow, if you'll let me?" She laughed when he told her he'd love to have her 'drop by' again. "Oh, is that what I did?" she teased. She felt sexy; not dirty like with Jamarcus or the others. It felt good to tease and flirt. She hadn't done that in a long time.

Brady heard the soft knock at his door a little before 8:00 the next morning, and knew the kids must be off to school. He opened it to see Karen dressed a lot more conservatively, in slacks and a blouse, but looking every bit as desirable.