Betrayal Ch 02 7

Betrayal: Chapter 2 of 8

All characters engaging in or viewing sexual activities are eighteen or older.

When he made the brush line, Tim stopped and peered back though the driven snow toward the house. He saw a flashlight's beam when someone stepped out the back door, and then screamed, "HOLY SHIT! There's a damn blizzard going on! OH, FUCK - the electric line has broken and is bouncing around shorting on our trucks! GET DRESSED! WE'VE GOT TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

The sound of his Berserker laugh muted by the storm, he turned back toward his truck.

The rain and sleet had turned into a blinding snowstorm, and it was hard to see. He had walked about 100 yards when he heard a loud whoosh and the sky lit up. He looked back; a fire was blazing somewhere behind the house, most likely in the pump house or one of their trucks. He chuckled again, and proceeded onward.

The brush on each side kept him on the road though the gully and to the pasture road, where he spotted his truck though the snow. It was covered in ice, and, even in the strong wind, the snow was sticking to the ice. Tim started the truck and turned the heater on the highest setting. He reached under his back seat, pulled out a can of deicer and an ice blade, doused the windshield, windows, and mirrors, and bladed them off. He climbed back in, put it in four-wheel drive, and turned back toward town.

He was secure in the knowledge that no one could see his lights in the blizzard that was obscuring vision beyond a few feet, so he turned his low beams and fog lamps on and headed for home. He couldn't see the ranch house, and hoped the old couple couldn't see his lights. Suddenly the dark sky behind it lit up, and then dimmed; there went one of their trucks! He laughed madly again, and turned his attention back to the road.

It was slow going, but he made it off the dirt road and onto the pavement leading to town. There was no traffic, but he had to drive slowly because he could barely see a few feet in front of the truck; the headlight beams just seemed to blaze and disappear into the curtain of snow!

As he crept along, he thought about the motley crew that his beautiful, sexy wife was fucking and sucking. Had he found her with Burt Reynolds, or even someone good looking and hung, he might have understood, but this bunch of butt-ugly, old, out-of-shape, and cock-challenged duds? What the fuck?

JW, the initial seducer, was an inch shorter and 40 pounds heavier than Tim, wore size 42 pants, and had an average-size 6" dick. He was probably nice looking 40 pounds ago, but his jowls made him look older than his 33 years. Steve was about 5'8" tall and looked 8 months pregnant. His dick was a little longer and thicker, but his belly was so big any size advantage was lost. Frank was 6'2", but skinny as a rail, with a ruddy complexion, a big nose, and he wore a rug. Steve should have bought one; instead, he went with that ridiculous comb-over!

Frank had a dick that mirrored his body: long and skinny, and he was also in his mid- to late-50s.

Benton was short, thick, and ugly, as was his uncircumcised cock; it had a big head but was short. He was an attorney by trade, but most of his money was inherited. His current trophy wife was his third, and after the amount the first two wives had taken him for, if she got her share from a divorce he wouldn't be able to afford a fourth. They had a pre-nup, but he set it up to be draconian if he caught her cheating. She agreed, but demanded reciprocity, and, thinking the device would keep her in line while he still played, he agreed. However, if the pictures of this orgy got back to his wife, he would be raped in the divorce.

John Allen was your typical, mildly charming but smarmy insurance agent-type. He looked good in a suit, but naked he had an unimpressive physique; pudgy around the middle, with stick arms and legs. His 5.5" dick looked as frail and weak as his arms.

The superintendent, Joe Ward, made Steve look svelte. He had a pear shape, had to wear suspenders to keep his pants up, and his six-incher rarely ever got beyond semi-hard. He bragged that this was his last superintendent's job, because he was retiring in two year, but he also bragged about his sexual prowess, so who knows if it was true.

Larry was actually the best looking of the group, he was in the best shape, and, despite what Karen said, his cock was slightly above average in length but somewhat narrow. He was around Tim's age of 26; Steve was early 50s, Benton late 50s, Ward and Frank were early 60s, most likely, and JW was a rode-hard-and-put-up-wet 33 who looked fifteen years older.

'So,' he asked himself, 'why is my gorgeous wife, who could have her choice of anyone she wanted, fucking this bunch of losers?' Then it hit him: he had the answer to three of his questions. Who: at least the seven losers; how long: since coaching school, but the worst started two days after Christmas; and why: a combination of a sexually curious but inexperienced young woman with an out-of-control libido, unsavory men who took advantage of her, and blackmail.

Tim was already adamant that there was no way back for her, even if she wanted to come back. Her ability to host sex parties and make porn movies for two months while keeping him completely in the dark proved she could never be trusted. To compound her felony, her actions tonight made him question whether she still loved him, or had ever loved him.

Of the men, two were fellow coaches, two were school administrators, two were school board members, and one was married to what had been his second-favorite blonde beauty. After tonight, she was elevated to his favorite blonde beauty.

Their combined betrayal, the disrespect they had shown for him and his family, and their willingness to seduce, film, and blackmail his wife meant the men had to pay, and pay dearly! Assuming they survived the night...

***

The street lights were still on as he turned onto his street, but he was certain that wouldn't last; the electric lines were being whipped into nearby oak trees by the brutal winds, and would soon begin shorting out. Tim hung his insulated pants and parka in the laundry room, and then used the access in the laundry room to hide the tape recorder, videos, used film, and camera in the attic behind a stash of empty moving boxes.

It was close, but he had kept his promise to be back to take care of his sons and their babysitter by the time the storm got too bad. The storm had definitely arrived, but he could still wake the boys and they could ride with him to take their eighteen-year-old babysitter, Sharon, to her parents' home.

Sharon heard him open the door from the laundry room and met him in the kitchen with a worried look on her pretty face; she hugged him tightly, asked if he was okay, and ordered him to take a hot bath and get dressed in warm clothes before he caught his death of cold! Tim wondered if all women were born with the capacity to think and speak that way, or if they learned it from others of their gender.

"Sharon, it's bad out there! Won't your parents panic if you don't come home?" he asked.

"No, Coach, I called them when the storm first hit and told them I was going to spend the night because it would be too dangerous to have you drive me home. They said that was fine; we should build a big fire and hunker down until the storm ends because the electricity was going to go out soon."

Tim leaned back, raised her chin so she was looking at him, and praised her, "You are one smart young lady, Sharon, and I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me and the boys tonight!"

"You go get out of those wet clothes and get things set up before the lights and heat go off; that will be thanks enough!" she exclaimed.

Tim discovered that Sharon already had a fire blazing; he could feel the heat from the middle of the room. She had also gathered his kerosene lanterns and flashlights and placed them on the nearby coffee table.

He took a hot shower while he still could, and got dressed in lined sweats. He pulled the mattress off the double bed in the guest room, dragged it into the living room near the fire, and then made a big pallet on the carpet beside the mattress for his sons, using sleeping bags, comforters, and blankets. If, or rather when, the electricity went off, the house would get too cold to stay in bed, so they would all have to huddle by the fire.

"Sharon, come with me; we need to get you in some warmer clothes. Karen has some warm sweats in her closet. Take a hot shower and then put on a set of the fleece sweats and wool socks. You may want to layer up for warmth.

I'm going to move the sleeping boys onto their pallet and get them covered with comforters and blankets. Bring those off the king bed in my room when you come so we will have plenty for the mattress too."

Just as Sharon made it into the living room with the last of the blankets, the electricity failed. Tim added more logs, lit a lantern, and he and Sharon sat cross-legged on the mattress facing the fireplace, with the lantern flickering behind them. She promptly snuggled up to him, draped a blanket around them, and said, "I like this. The flickering lights are romantic, and being held by you is...it makes me feel warm inside."

He knew he shouldn't be holding her this way, but he was angry, hurt, betrayed, and she needed reassurance.

He handed her a big glass of water off the coffee table, and told her to drink it all. "I filled all the pitchers and my two five-gallon water jugs, so we have enough to last us. The city gets water from the lake, and I suspect the water system will fail if the storm gets bad enough," Tim said. "We can't get dehydrated, which is easy to do in these conditions. We have plenty of water to drink, and even a sufficient amount that we can partially fill the tank to flush the commode, if we're judicious."

Sharon drank from her glass but didn't speak; he felt her eyes on him and turned his head to look down at her. "Coach, did you find them?" He maintained their gaze, saying, "I looked everywhere reasonable; even drove to the nightclub she likes; nothing! I have no idea where they are, but I'm not an idiot, and neither are you. Karen has been running off somewhere with them for two months, lying the whole time about where she was; therefore, there is only one conclusion I can draw. Let's leave it at that, okay?"

What circled through his mind when she asked was quite different:

I saw my wife committing adultery with seven men, and took a bunch of pictures of them in action. What did I do about it? Something I may regret, but not what I wanted to do, which was kill all eight of them on the spot!"

Sharon scooted closer and leaned into him. "Coach, I turn nineteen at midnight. This will be undoubtedly be the most exciting birthday I've ever had, or likely will ever have! I'm not afraid because you're here with me, but I may get clingy and emotional. Tonight has been a bad learning experience for me! I'm so disappointed in Mrs. Kelly!"

He sighed, and changed the topic. "We both need to get some sleep. If you wake up and the fire is getting low, wake me up and I'll get more logs. I don't want you to do it because the wind is so strong the door may get away from you and chill the house even worse!"

Sharon suddenly hopped up, grabbed a flashlight, ran into the bedrooms, and returned with pillows for each of them. They exchanged 'good night' wishes, wormed under the covers, and tried to sleep. Tim knew he should but doubted he would; he was quite surprised when he woke up three hours later with Sharon sleeping snuggled against him and the fire burning low.

He carefully extricated himself from her arms, put on a long overcoat and rain boots, and slipped outside to get wood. The storm seemed to have worsened: the lightning and thunder were gone, but the wind was howling, driving the snow sideways. The air was unbelievably frigid, and he had to close the sliding glass door to keep snow out of the house while he gathered the wagon full of wood he had prepared earlier.

Tim managed to get the wagon inside without too much snow getting in. He parked it beside the fireplace and rebuilt the fire. When it was blazing, he checked his sons, found that they were warm and snug as bugs in a rug, and then slipped under the covers, hoping to keep from waking Sharon. She didn't wake up, but she made little noises and snuggled against him again.

She rested her head on his shoulder, draped her arm across his broad chest, and threw her leg over his. She was breathing slowly, obviously asleep, but having the hottest newly-nineteen-year old girl in town draped all over him proved that the soul-crushing events he had witnessed tonight were not also masculinity crushing. In spite of his best efforts, his thick 9" cock swelled in response to the young Nordic blonde beauty lying on him, and he willed himself to sleep rather than ravage her.

Tim's next remembrance was soft lips on his, soft tits on his chest, and a soft hand caressing the hardness of his cock. Still more asleep than awake, he thought Kare was making love to him; he sleepily grabbed her tight butt and the kiss grew more passionate. Her tongue invaded his mouth and swirled around insistently, her breasts rubbed against his chest, and he heard a moan, but he didn't know if it was he or she.

He knew he was the one moaning when the soft mouth moved away from his and suddenly encompassed the head of his cock. A tongue licked all around the head and the underside; he arched his back in response, and pushed down on the mess of hair. The hot mouth accepted another few inches, and the tongue swirled again. His loving wife was naked, kneeling under the covers, giving him pleasure. He pulled her around so she was kneeling over his face, and raised his head off the pillow to lick and suck the succulent pussy he was offered.

The delicious-tasting quim soon had his cheeks covered in juice, and he marveled at how tight she still was, how light and tasty the juices were, and how he was able to cause her to spasm after only a few minutes. She felt somehow different, but he was so sleepy and in such lust, he was beyond cogent analysis.

He felt her orgasm strike hard, freezing her in place, but unleashing a torrent of girl juices; he continued to lap like a thirsty dog laps water.

He pulled the hips tighter over his face, rubbed her taut round butt with one hand, and mauled her dangling titties with the other. Gathering some of the plentiful pussy dew, he rimmed her little asshole with his fingers and then inserted his thumb past the tight anal ring while nudging her clit with his tongue. She almost swallowed his cock, and her pussy pressed down on his face at the same time.

He pulled her into place and began to suckle the hood and the protruding clit. She froze up, spasmed and writhed through her climax while making gurgling sounds around his cock.

She finally lifted her wetness off his face, and he heard her moan. "Ohhhh, Coach. I've never felt anything like that before!"

His fuzzy brain took pride in her compliment, and then it hit him: SHE CALLED ME COACH! THIS IS NOT MY WIFE! OH SHIT!

When her passion passed, she turned back around, laid alongside him with most of her body on top of his, and said, "Oh, Tim, that was the best birthday present I've ever gotten! I had no idea sex could be so great! I wanted to lose my virginity to you on my birthday, but you already gave me so much pleasure and I'm so tired that I'm not sure I can do it right now." She kissed him softly again, and grasped his swollen, sticky member in her little hand.

She was kissing and stroking him and whispering words of adoration. He was awake now, struggling to keep his lust for her buried beneath his conscience. 'For God's sake', he scolded himself, 'she's the BABYSITTER! You can't take advantage of that sweet girl's fears in the midst of the storm!'

Her hand pulled his hand onto her wet pussy; she moaned and pressed up against it. His senses overwhelmed by her wetness, her smell, the feel of her extraordinary body, and her obvious lust for him, his fingers involuntarily delved into her depths. She arched her back to receive his fingers, and pressed down on his hand until his probing fingers encountered an intact hymen.

He knew her reputation as a 'good girl'- some of the boys even called her "Cherry" behind her back. Given her high-kicking acrobatics as a member and then the captain of the dance team, however, whether a virgin or not, the intact hymen surprised him. Finding the hymen was disconcerting enough that it allowed his conscience to rise above his lust and take a modicum of control over his still-boggled mind.

'Sure she says she wants me to be her first, but should the first time for this sweet angel be under these circumstances, with a married man?' His conscience said no.

"Sharon," he whispered. "I need to get more wood, and we need to prepare for Patrick and Mark to wake up soon. As much as I love what we've been doing, and what you're doing now, we need to stop." She raised her head up, stared into his green eyes with her guileless sky blue eyes, and searched his face for guilt and regret. Seeing none, she gave him another scorching kiss and then rolled beside him and began putting the pink fleece sweats back on.

He took in the sight of her handful titties with quarter-sized aureoles and pencil eraser pink nipples, and the lean appearance of her lithe 5'7" frame. From the many times he had seen her in short shorts and her dance team uniform, he knew her legs and ass were among the finest he'd ever seen, but now that he had seen the rest he realized her head-to-toe beauty was exceedingly rare.

With his swelling cock threatening to overwhelm his cogent brain again, he tore his eyes away and returned his focus to the chores at hand. He pulled his shirt down, found and put on his sweat bottoms, pulled on his rubber boots, button the overcoat, and walked to the sliding glass door behind which the wood was cached.

Tim pulled the cord to open the heavy drapes, and found that his yard, outbuildings, the trees behind his house, and everything else in sight was covered in snow! Seeing a winter wonderland in central Texas was surreal! Wanting to share the vision, he motioned to Sharon, who snuggled under his arm, wrapped her arms around him, and told him how beautiful it was. He kissed her on the head, unwrapped himself, and dashed outside to get more wood.

When the fire was blazing again, he walked down the cold hall into the even colder bedroom to retrieve his battery-powered transistor radio. The topic of the early news, of course, was the weather: the ice and snow, the downed electrical lines and outages, the dangerous driving conditions, and the many closed roads. He listened until the cold got to him before turning it off and returning to the living room.

As predicted, the boys were awake and hungry. Sharon had poured their favorite cereal into bowls and they were eating at the coffee table while chatting excitedly with her. She looked like the sweetest angel on earth interacting with the boys, but the smoldering look she gave him when he returned was that of a full-grown woman! His cock lurched, but he fought it down and took a seat beside her.

Mark and Patrick were so excited they were almost incoherent. Tim explained the situation as something like going camping, but in our house. They clapped and laughed, until baby Mark looked around and asked, "Where is Mommy? She likes to camp with us, and I miss her!"

"Mark, Honey, she stayed with friends last night because the storm got too bad and it was dangerous to drive. Maybe she can get home today, but I'm sure she will be here by tomorrow. Sharon is staying here 'cause she can't go home either because of the snow, and you guys can bring all your toys in here where it's warm and play all day!"