Betsy - Reawaened

© 2021, All rights reserved -- mimaster

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The room was thick with cigar smoke, a cloud hanging over the table like fog. Darren stared at his hand, patiently waiting his turn. Throwing down two cards, he picked up the ones that were sent his way to replace them. He'd raised on the first round of betting, before calling on the second. Laying down his full house, he smiled as he raked the pot of money his direction.

"Damn, Darren... you are having some luck today," Lynn said with a shake of his head.

"There's nothing lucky about it. It's all about strategy," he shrugged in response. "Same as on the course."

"Bullshit," Norman scoffed as he gathered the cards and began shuffling them.

Keith backed his playing partner. "Come on, Norm. You can be miffed that he bluffs better than you at poker, but you have admit, Darren plays a smarter golf game than you two."

"You're just saying that because he won you thirty bucks today."

"No arguing there. He plays smarter than me too. I'll admit, if anyone was lucky, it was me being his partner."

Darren picked up the cards that were dealt to him, organizing them in his hand. "I'm not sure I play smarter, but I do play to my strengths most of the time," he offered, throwing a quarter into the kitty.

"We weren't playing stroke play, Darren. We were playing best ball," Norman corrected.

Norman and Lynn were State Police officers, stationed at a post about thirty miles away. But they lived in town. They were members of the club and played frequently. They also happened to be two of at least a dozen members of the local law enforcement community that Darren had befriended over the years in Virginia. That included the town police as well as the county sheriff's department. Some he met through his business interactions in town, but most happened through golf. Darren was good friends with four troopers, but he was closest to Norman and Lynn. So was Keith.

Norman's assertion about playing the friendly match in a best ball format was poignant. If Darren had a bad hole, he could hope that his playing partner would bail him out. The lowest score on a hole would win, and if two players tied but were on opposing teams, the hole would be halved. In stroke play, Darren always played to his strengths, and tried to minimize a big number if he got into trouble. In best ball, he might have a huge score on a hole, but Keith could potentially win or tie it for the team.

Yet Darren seldom played reckless. If he were in a scramble tournament, where all players hit and they used the best shot of the group, then he would take chances. Other than that, he always played to post the best score he could. And that was his point to the rest of the group.

"No offense to Keith, but it seemed more like match play to me. I think he was only a factor on four holes."

"Three, actually," Keith admitted with a resigned chuckle.

"Well, there you go.

I had

to play that way."

"And that was my point. You play smart. Always. There's a reason you shot seventy-seven, partner."

"I did play pretty well," he grinned as he laid down his two pair, winning another hand of five-card draw.

Lynn slammed his cards onto the table, the sound echoing in the locker room. He yelled in mock anger. "Dammit! How do you keep doing that!?"

"Keith already told you. I can tell when you're bluffing. Norm too," he smirked.

"

How!?

"

"Well if I told you that, you'd know how I know, and then I couldn't take your money."

"I think you've taken enough today. I'm done."

"Me too," Norman laughed. "Otherwise we might have to arrest you for pickpocketing. You've been in our wallets all day."

In reality, he and Keith each won thirty dollars on the course. Ten for winning each side of the eighteen holes, and another ten when their opponents pressed the last four holes of the match, hoping to cut those losses half. Instead they lost all three wagers, and then Darren won almost another ten dollars from the other three collectively in the poker game that followed. Pocketing his winnings as he stood, he grinned.

"I'd call that a good day," he laughed.

"At least I still came out ahead," Keith said, losing four dollars of his golf winnings to Darren in the card game. "Frankly, the way I hacked it around the course today, you deserve that for lugging me around with you."

Darren gave his friend an out, saying, "Don't torture yourself. You've been gone three weeks. You have a right to be rusty."

"I wish I could use that as an excuse, Darren. When I'm gone that long I fly my clubs with me so I have something to do on the weekends, and the occasional evening. I played three times last week."

"Well then yeah,

you do

owe me.

I haven't

played in a week."

The four of them walked up the stairs from the huge men's locker room housed in the basement of the old clubhouse, walking through the pro shop on the way to the parking lot. Darren gave a wave to Joel, the golf pro, who was working behind the counter.

"Heard you shot five over par," he called out.

Darren smiled and said, "A few more rounds like that and I might get down to Gene's handicap."

"I think it might take more than a few, but that's a good round out there today. There are a lot of tough pin placements."

"Yeah. But I was below the hole most of the day. Makes it a lot easier. Take care, Joel. Have fun playing with my wife this week."

"Beg your pardon?" he replied, blushing a bit as he fought off a surge of panic. He was stunned that Darren would say something so brazen in front of others.

Darren held in his laughter, but his eyes showed the humor he felt in catching him in a compromised situation. Letting him off the hook, he explained, "Betsy said you're going to take her out on the course for her next private lesson. I'm looking forward to her telling me how that ends up."

"Oh... that! Yeah. It's a first for me. It should be interesting. I thought we were going to do it yesterday, but she called when we got rained out last week and said she wanted a few more lessons on the range before we hit the course."

Darren smiled, knowing that delay was really because she wasn't allowed to play sexually when he was traveling; part of the rules he'd established for her extracurricular marital activities. "Well, she's excited. I know she's looking forward to it. See you next weekend."

"Okay. Take care."

Lynn and Norman had already left by the time Darren got outside. Keith was standing near his car. Which was parked one spot away from his.

"You really did play great today, buddy."

"Thanks. I had a blast playing with you."

"Me too. I'll do better next time. I can't play much worse."

"You had some bad luck. It happens."

"Alright, well, I need to get home and get cleaned up. I'll see you tonight."

"Tonight? We don't have bridge tonight. That's

next

Saturday."

"I know that. We're going out to dinner. Didn't Betsy tell you?"

"Uh... no."

"Yeah. We have reservations for The Cove at seven."

"The Cove? Why would we go to The Cove? Betsy is allergic to seafood."

"They have more than seafood on the menu, my friend. I'll see you there."

Keith got into his sedan and drove off, leaving Darren standing frozen in place. Indeed, the restaurant in question had a lot of dinner options. It was located about thirty minutes away in a neighboring town, and it was the best seafood restaurant in the area by far. That's why they never went there.

Betsy loved seafood. But when she became pregnant with Gene, she developed a shellfish allergy that nearly closed her throat. Since that time, she'd sworn off

all

fish, avoiding it to the point that she usually refused to eat at a restaurant that specialized in that fare. It wasn't that she was worried about some kind of cross contamination. She would always call ahead to make sure that would not be an issue. It was more to do with the idea that she couldn't have it, so to go where it was the primary cuisine always seemed a bit cruel. There were times she craved something as simple as a tuna sandwich.

"I guess she's changed her mind... again," he said to himself.

Instead of being put off like he was the night before, he was philosophical about it, his mood much better because of how well he played and the money he'd won.

In his mind they wouldn't be able to have sex until Neil went to bed anyway, and with it being summer that was happening later because he didn't have to get up so early. With that settled in his head, he focused on the food. Neil loved fish, but he had never had seafood before. It would be a treat for him. Darren's treat with Betsy would come eventually.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Darren rolled into the driveway a little after five. Stretching as he exited the car, he took a deep breath, finding the sweet scent of honeysuckle prevalent in the afternoon breeze. Turning his neck back and forth, he cracked it, then he shook his body to let the tension in his muscles relax. It was a routine he practiced after driving, whether it was ten minutes or ten hours. He liked to gather his bearings before going into the house. He didn't do it all the time, but it was ingrained to the point he seldom noticed that he did it at all.

Stepping into the laundry room off the carport, he removed his shoes before entering the kitchen, going so far as to remove his socks and place them in the basket of dirty clothes on the washing machine.

"Bets! I'm home!" he called out to the house, not knowing where she was.

"I'm in the basement! I'll be up in a minute!"

He went to the kitchen to wash his hands, even though he was going to be taking a shower just a short time later. He was drying them when he heard the sound of shoes on the stairs. He knew she was in heels. They were the only shoes anyone was allowed to wear inside. It was an odd exception to the 'no shoes' rule, but he didn't object and the boys didn't seem to care.

"Holy... wow, you look sexy!" he said with a visible shudder.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I needed to hear that," she winked.

"I'm not complaining, but I am surprised you're so dressed up."

Betsy was decked out in a sleek, tight red dress that barely contained her incredible body. It had spaghetti straps holding up the top portion; the front was cut with a deep V that showed off an incredible amount of skin, the inner globes of her chest exposed perfectly. The lower half came to mid-thigh, but with a slit running high to the point of her right hip, accentuating her legs. The design hugged her ass, actually being so form-fitting that the fabric was seemingly glued to the cheeks.

She'd left her long hair down, but she'd styled it with more curl, giving it some bounce. She'd painted all her nails a matching shade of red; her toes exposed in the four-inch heeled sandals strapped to her ankles. She'd gone with gold jewelry as the accessories of choice. Bracelets, necklaces and earrings all set off by the red of the dress, and the lipstick she'd selected.

"Why not. We're going out."

"I know you've never been there, but The Cove is not

that

fancy. It's one of those places that's all about the food and not the atmosphere."

"So, I should put on my burlap sack, then?"

He had a good laugh at her quip. "One, you don't own one. Two, if you did, I'm sure you'd make it look just as sexy... it's the woman, not the outfit. And three, if you wear that, there's no way we'll get Neil in his good clothes to go."

"Neil's not here, Darren. He's spending the night at Kevin's house. Erin is watching them."

"Why?"

"Because you and I watched Kevin

last

night, and she got to have some uninterrupted adult fun with Jack. She's returning the favor. And because we watched Jody too, I have Angela on the hook for sometime in the future."

"So

that's

why we had a gang of giggling goofballs running around last night."

"I'm pretty sure you were the lead goofball, from what I saw. But yes, I told you... you need to trust me. Now go get in the shower. We're meeting Diane and Keith at seven. I don't want to be late."

Lathering up under the warm spray a short time later, Darren was shaking his head. "I don't ever remember her having to wait on me before when we've gone out."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Are you sure about this, Bets?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because you're allergic to seafood."

"I'm not allergic to filet mignon. That's what I'm going to have."

"Okay, but you're still going into the restaurant."

"I'm not going to have an allergic reaction to being in the place. It's not some kind of airborne pathogen. I'm going to be sitting with friends, having a steak and some pasta. Relax."

"Okay. I just wanted to be sure."

"There's nothing to worry about. I called ahead. They assured me they're very careful about cross-contamination. Let's have fun tonight."

They were greeted in the lobby by the Edmonson's. Diane visibly shook when she saw what Betsy was wearing.

"I

knew

you'd wear that dress!" she whispered to her as they hugged.

"What? Is there a problem with it?" she teased.

"Only that I told you it's Keith's favorite. I can tell he's already fucking you with his eyes."

"Does he know he's going to get to use his cock later?"

"No. I haven't told him. I didn't want him disappointed in case you changed your mind."

"Me... or

you?

There's no chance I'm backing out. Besides, I put off fucking Darren last night so you'll get the full experience. You can thank me later."

"What the hell does

that

mean?"

"You'll have to fuck him to find out. Are we doing this, or are we done after dinner?"

"I want to, but I'm nervous."

"Then let's have dinner, and we'll see how you're feeling about it afterward. We won't say anything to the guys until you're sure."

"Thanks, Betsy. I'll calm down once I have a few drinks in me."

"You better. You've already got my hopes up for this. I think we're in for an incredible night, to be honest."

If nothing else, the food and company lived up to the billing. As she ate her perfectly prepared filet, Betsy silently welcomed the lustful glances not so secretly directed her way from Keith. His eyes locked onto her the second he saw she was wearing the sexy red dress he'd fantasized taking off her dozens of times. It lit a fire inside him, the blaze noticeable to her whenever they connected stares. It was having an effect on both of them. Keith was sporting a humongous erection underneath the clothed table, while Betsy's pussy had been dripping from the moment he pulled her chair out for her when they sat down.

The banter was light and breezy. Talk of kids and work dominated the conversation for almost an hour. It was nothing unlike the pleasantries they would exchange at one of their bridge nights. That very thought popped into Betsy's head, and it made her blanch. She'd expected things to be different, although she wasn't quite sure how. When she analyzed it, as she did most things, she came to the conclusion that the times she'd been in a similar setting with Darren feeling like she was, the other people involved were long time friends. More importantly, the women were Paula and Carrie, who were both as sexually charged.

She'd thought the same thing about Diane, until she recalled how she acted in their threesome with Sam. Under that dynamic, Betsy had to be the one to lead things where she wanted them to go.

"Maybe she's passive. That would explain wanting to be picked up at a bar," she surmised about Diane. "She obviously wants to get laid, but she let's the man do the heavy lifting."

She looked at her gorgeous friend, who was sitting quietly in an almost demure fashion. They'd talked about what they wanted out of the night, but with them being on the cusp of acting on their desires, Diane was firmly rooted on the sidelines, like an awkward teenager against the gymnasium wall at a formal waiting to be asked to dance.

Betsy knew Darren wasn't going to initiate anything. She hadn't clued him in to her idea for fear of getting his hopes up. That proved to be a wise decision based on how Diane was behaving. The key to how the evening proceeded from where they were was up to her... and Keith.

Taking note of how she'd just mentally compared the chat and the mood at the table to that of an ordinary bridge night, Betsy decided to use the weapon she'd started with. The one she knew about; it was why she'd shown up dressed as she had.

Turning her attention directly toward Keith, she leaned forward onto her elbows. She'd eschewed the table manners that had been drilled into her as a child; the very same she worked hard to instill in her own children. This was a measured move, initiated to bring about a desired result.

Her breasts hung below her chest, held firm by the tight, thin material of the dress. She became flush with excitement about the challenge, her nipples hardening, poking deep into the fabric. It helped that the air conditioning in the restaurant was set to promote such a physical response.

Running her fingers gently along Keith's forearm, she attained his attention. She flashed a sexy smile and said, "You know, handsome, I wore this dress just for you tonight. I know how much you like it."

"Y... you do?" he stammered in surprise.

"I've seen how you stare at me whenever I wear it. More than when you

usually

stare at me."

"I

stare

at you?"

"Stare. Gaze. Leer. Fuck me with your eyes. Whatever you want to call it, I've noticed. I can even feel it when my back is to you. You seem to really like my ass."

"Oh my God, Betsy! I'm so sorry. I would never -"

"I hope

that's

not true," she winked.

"What?"

"If it bothered me, I wouldn't have worn this for you. Tell me, handsome, what's your favorite part of me wearing this dress?"

"Uhhh... I don't know. I like how it clings to you, I guess."

"That's not what I asked. What's your favorite part...

of me

?" she teased.

Keith blushed, while Diane looked on, captured by the exchange. So was Darren, who noticed his friend blushing. He sensed the playfulness in her words, but he also noticed the fire in her beautiful eyes. It seemed there was more on her agenda for the evening besides dinner with friends.

Deciding to test to see if he was right, he said, "Go easy on him, babe. You're embarrassing him."

"No I'm not. I'm stoking the fire I know is inside him," she said as she grabbed her tumbler. Taking a long sip of her vodka and tonic, she hummed as she stared a hole in the raven-haired beauty sitting across from her. Setting down the glass, she pressed forward. "Diane, I'm sure my husband wouldn't mind you doing the same."

With that, she resumed her high-octane flirting with Keith. "So, where was I? Oh yes, I wanted to know what part of my body you think looks best in your dress?"

"

My

dress?"

"Well, I did wear it for you. So, what is it? What part of me do you like in your dress?"

He wasn't sure how to answer. It seemed like a trap. "I... I love all of it. You look incredible in it Betsy."

"That's not very specific. You said you like how it clings to me... does that mean you like the way it shows off my tight little ass? How about the way it's cut to show off my tits?"

"Yeah... I like both of those," he groaned, nodding approvingly to her leading questions. Her hand moved up higher, running along his bicep.

She became emboldened, leaning toward him, resting her chin on her left hand, elbow firmly on the tabletop. Reaching, she pulled at the material covering her right breast, exposing her nipple briefly. His audible gasp made her smile.

"I see you like how I can't wear a bra with it," she cooed.

"Oh yes," he hissed.

"Do you like how short it is above the knee; how this slit goes all the way to the top of my hip?" She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs in a way that uncovered her entire long, sexy limb. Glancing down, she drew his eyes to her leg, her sexy heeled sandal bobbing slowly. Her hand toyed with the material covering her lap, the top of her thigh coming into view, along with a few wisps of her pubic hair. "Another fun fact. I can't wear panties with your dress either. Something to consider when you're undressing my with yours eyes, handsome."