Chapter 2 -- Showing Off
Denise Watkins, the 38 year old Director of Business Development for a regional property management firm, leaned back in her office chair, gently tapping her pencil against the desk as she stared at the comings and goings in the parking lot below her second story window. For the past hour, she'd sat there, daydreaming, rehashing the events of the previous week in her head.
It had been seven days since she'd accidentally walked in on Ted Baldwin, the 20-year-old son of her best friend, while he masturbated. Seven days since she'd stood riveted to the floor, unable to move, unable to draw her eyes from his young, hard body. Seven days since he'd seen her watching. And seven days since he'd taken control of her life.
And it had been five days since Ted's mother, Martha, had returned home from her unexpected business trip. Returned to the home she shared with her son, and for the next month or so, with Denise, while she looked for a place of her own.
The five days since Martha's return had been hell on Denise. She couldn't very well tell her friend that she was fucking her 20 year old son, or, nearer the truth, that her son was fucking her. That he was fucking her any-time, any-place and any-way he wanted, and she was only to eager comply, only too eager to be his wanton little slut.
Martha's return home had rocked their boat a bit. But in a strange way, it had also served to intensify the eroticism of the situation. Anytime he thought he could get away with it, Ted would command Denise to drop her pants and bend over. And he would fuck her hard, leaving her wanting as often as not, treating her as no more than a piece of meat whose sole reason for existence was his pleasure. But those brief moments of submission only seemed to intensify Denise's desire for him, making the couple of occasions when they didn't have to hurry, when she could truly give herself to him, utterly amazing.
But Denise wanted more. She wanted Ted all to herself, if only for a night. And it looked like she just might get her wish.
* * *
Denise stared longingly at Ted as he eased the car onto the highway. After several moments, he returned her look briefly, before returning his eyes to the road. "Take off your skirt and panties," he commanded.
It was Tuesday, shortly after noon, and nearly two weeks after their first encounter. Denise had a 10:00 AM meeting the next day with a graphic artist and the representative of one of her clients. The meeting would take place at the artist's office, which was a three-hour drive north. She'd decided to go up a day early and bring Ted, who'd told his mom that he'd be camping with the guys.
At Ted's direction, Denise was dressed in a wrap around skirt, black panties, high heels, and a sleeveless tank top that left about an inch of her tummy exposed. And no bra. Other than the toe ring that branded her as his property, she wore no jewelry at all.
"Well," Ted said. "I'm waiting!"
"Yes sir," Denise answered hurriedly. "I'm sorry, sir." In very short order, she had unbuttoned and unwrapped the skirt, and slid off her panties.
"Lift your ass," Ted ordered.
"Yes sir."
As Denise lifted her ass, Ted pulled her skirt out from under her and tossed it into the back seat, leaving her clad in tank top and high heels only. "Very good. Now recline your seat back all the way down," he instructed. "I want you to masturbate for me."
"Yes sir," Denise answered submissively, lowering the seat. As she moved her hands slowly over her tummy and towards her pussy, she could feel her body trembling. Trembling with fear at the thought of being caught, of being arrested. Trembling with fear at the thought of risking everything she'd worked so hard to achieve.
And trembling with excitement. After all, she was Ted's slut, and today, nothing else really mattered.
Her fingers reached her pussy -- newly trimmed, at Ted's direction. As she slowly unsheathed her love button, she felt the car drifting into the left lane. Looking up, she saw that they were slowly passing an eighteen wheeler.
"You bastard," she quietly hissed at him as she massaged her clit. But inside she could feel her fire burning hotter and hotter as the prospect of being seen now seemed very real indeed.
As the car inched its way up towards the cab, Denise thrust her fingers deep into her cunt, arching her pelvis to meet the thrust. She closed her eyes, moaning as the pleasure intensified with each thrust of her hand. Just then, she felt Ted's hand on her, pulling her top up to reveal her right tit.
She felt dizzy with excitement, not daring to open her eyes, yet certain that the truck driver was looking right at her. And she let out a small yelp as Ted grabbed her tit roughly with his hand, squeezing it, pulling on the already excited nipple.
She continued pounding her pussy with her right hand, while her left hand moved to expose her other breast, attacking it with the same zeal with which her right hand attacked its target.
"Oh God," she heard herself moan. "Oh God, Ted, I'm cumming." She thrust herself onto her fingers, arching her pelvis frantically to meet the pounding of her fingers as she continued to squeeze her tit roughly. "Oh shit," she screamed. "Oh yes." Just when she was about to cum, Ted released her right tit and slapped it. Hard.
And then Denise thrust her entire body into the air and screamed, the orgasmic sensation flooding her body with wave after wave of pleasure.
Then, at last, it was over, and Mrs. Watkins opened her eyes slowly, taking stock of the situation. She lay there, panting still, both breasts exposed, and her right hand still buried in her pussy, while her left hand rested lightly on her left breast.
The truck. Suddenly, she remembered the truck. Looking up through the window, she saw that Ted was driving right along side of the cab, and the driver was, indeed, getting an eyeful, periodically stealing a quick look toward the road, but quickly returning his gaze to her. In spite of it all, she smiled at him, blowing him a soft little kiss as she felt Ted hit the accelerator and pull away.
And as they sped away, she heard the trucker's horn blow -- one short blast, followed by one long one. She raised her seat back slightly and straightened her top over her breasts, knowing better than to put on her panties and skirt without permission. She sat in silence for several minutes, watching the scenery hurry by.
* * *
Denise arched her body, vaguely aware of a pleasurable sensation, but not yet alert enough to understand its source. Slowly, her dreams started to fade, replaced by the fogginess of her emerging awareness. Soon she recognized the source of the pleasure, recognized the familiar sensations emanating from her womanhood. She moaned softly, arching her pelvis, trying to meet the pleasure, inviting it to continue.
The pleasure continued as she gradually regained her sense of awareness. And then it stopped. "Noooooo," she whimpered softly. "Please don't stop."
"Sorry babe," she heard Ted respond. Now totally awake, she opened her eyes and looked at him. "We're getting off the freeway in 15 minutes. You need to get dressed now."
She looked down at herself, still naked from the waist down, and sighed. "Yes sir."
* * *
Ted set the suitcase down on the floor of their motel room and headed for the rest room. "I'll be right out," he called.
Denise looked around the room. It was your typical motel room, king size bed, chest of drawers, writing desk, table and chairs, television, and mini-bar. The dΓ©cor, while nice, was decidedly neutral, doing very little to brighten up the place. The room reminded her of the motel itself -- nice, but nothing special. It was, however, convenient, located just a short drive from tomorrow's meeting locale.
She walked over to the window and opened the drapes wide. Great view, she thought sarcastically. They were in the last room on the second floor of the east wing of the motel. If you looked northward, there was a fairly decent view of the mountains in the distance. Of more concern to Denise, however, was the west wing of the motel, located not much more than 20 or 30 yards across the courtyard.
In the room directly across the courtyard she noticed a man -- a young man in his mid to late twenties - standing near the window, much as she was. He turned slowly, noticed Denise looking at him, and smiled. After an awkward moment, he turned and walked away.