Betty's Night Out

Betty applied deep red lipstick to her sensual lips, then checked herself in the mirror. Her shoulder-length, light brown hair was pulled back and the edges were curled softly. She wore just a dusting of rouge to highlight her cheekbones, and enough eyeshadow to accent her soft green eyes; eyes that reflected the all too familiar sadness she'd become accustomed to. For a moment she considered not going tonight; calling up her girlfriends and making some excuse to stay home. But she figured they wouldn't let her. She'd cancelled so many other plans with them they'd probably come over and drag her out of her apartment. Her lips curled into a tiny smile as she thought about Mary and Barb. They meant well. They really did. They just wanted her to get out of her depression. And they tried to understand. They did. It was just hard for them, never having been married... much less widowed.

It'd been 1½ years since the Japs had attacked Pearl Harbor and her husband, Tommy, had joined-up. And it'd been 8 months since he'd been killed in Europe. The day she'd gotten that letter she'd fallen into the depression her girlfriends were determined to get her out of.

They'd been patient though; understanding when she broke plan after plan with excuses that often bordered on the ridiculous. But now they were tired of it, refusing to accept any excuses and insisting that she make it to the party their entire floor was throwing in the building where they were roommates.

With a sigh of resignation Betty unrolled a pair of nylons up along her legs, their wide elastic cuffs hugging her thighs tightly and holding them in place under her slip. Next she slipped a flowing white blouse on over her bullet bra. After buttoning it up she drew a pearl necklace on over her head and under her blouse's collar so it hung between the full C-cup peaks of her breasts. Then she slipped a dark skirt on over her slip. She checked herself in the full-length mirror. The outfit did a nice job of accentuating her slim waist and gentle curves. Sliding her feet into a pair of low heals she donned a light jacket, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door.

She walked the few blocks to Mary and Barb's, enjoying the warm evening air. At the apartment building she rode the elevator up to the third floor where a wall of sounds; music, laughter, and conversations, greeted her. It wasn't loud, just a solid din of party noise. Making her way to the girls' apartment she was greeted by a handful of people, some of which she recognized from her visits to her friends. All the apartment doors were open and most had radios playing, all tuned to the same station so as she walked down the hall the song would fade then grow between the doors. She found Mary standing in her apartment's doorway talking to a couple of men she didn't recognize.

"Betty! I'm so glad you made it," Mary greeted her with a gentle hug.

"Hey."

"This is Charlie and Ken," Mary introduced the men.

"Gentlemen," Betty greeted them.

"Miss," Charlie nodded.

"Pleased to meet you," Ken said, gently taking her fingers.

He gazed intently into her eyes and Betty felt the color rising to her cheeks, causing her to divert her gaze.

"Let me get you a drink," Mary said, stepping into her apartment to a table holding the fixings. Betty watched her drop a couple ice cubes into a glass followed by two fingers of whiskey and a splash of water. Stepping back to the door she handed the glass to Betty.

"Thank you," she said, taking a deep sip of the drink to try quieting her nerves.

"Here. Let me take your purse and jacket," Mary said. "I'll put them in my room."

"Okay."

"Do you girls work together?" Charlie asked while she handed her friend her things.

"Yes-um," Betty answered, her nerves making her stammer slightly. She thought she saw both men's eyes giving her an appreciative once over now that her jacket was removed.

"Betty's actually part of Barb's team," Mary clarified, before disappearing with the jacket and purse.

"Yes. That's right," Betty agreed, taking another sip of her drink. "Um, do you gentlemen live here?"

"Two floors up," Ken told her. "But we were invited to the party anyway."

This was obviously meant as a small joke and Betty smiled appropriately. Taking another sip of her drink she took a closer assessment of the men. They were both nice looking; at least six inches taller than her, well-groomed and well-built, wearing slacks and open collar shirts. She suddenly had a new thought, one that gave her a tiny tremor of fear; was this some kind of set-up? Were Mary and Barb trying to play matchmaker?

"They're real handy," Mary announced with a smirk, having heard the exchange as she returned.

Both men grinned.

"Oh?" Betty couldn't tell if they were prideful grins, or mischievous ones.

"On top of other things, they fixed our sink drain the other day."

"The building's manager isn't very reliable," Charlie offered.

"That's too bad."

"Well, it gives us the chance to meet great people like Mary and Barb," Ken stated.

"Yes, it does have its advantages," Charlie agreed.

The quartet chatted for a few more minutes. Betty learned that the men had both been found unfit for service due to flat-feet and were foremen in manufacturing plants supporting the war. She couldn't help thinking about Tommy, but avoided bringing him up, not wanting to put a damper on the evening.

After refreshing everyone's drinks Mary suggested she take Betty mingling around, looking for Barb. As they walked away she leaned in and whispered in Betty's ear; "Aren't they good looking?"

"Um-Yes, I guess," Betty remembered her earlier concern and stopped to turn to face her friend. "Mary, please tell me this isn't some kind of set-up. That you and Barb aren't trying to fix me up."

"Heavens no, Betty," Mary assured her. "We know you're not ready for that."

"Good."

"But that doesn't mean you can't appreciate a nice-looking man, does it?"

"Well... I suppose not."

"Exactly. Now let's find Barb. She'll be so happy you made it tonight."

They found their friend in another apartment talking to two other men. Barb let out a little cry of happiness when she saw Betty, throwing her arms around her and hugging her excitedly.

"You made it!" She cried. "Oh, I am so glad."

"I can tell," Betty smiled, finding her friend's enjoyment infectious.

She was introduced to the men, Joe and Frank, and again exchanged pleasantries. With her nerves somewhat quieted she was able to access these men too. Again, they were both nice looking. But she found Joe to be especially handsome, with a ruggedness that she found appealing. When he gently took her hand and gazed into her eyes she felt a tingling race along her spine and she had to divert her eyes again as her cheeks once again began to redden. When she looked at him again she thought she caught him admiring her body, but his eyes quickly met hers, so she couldn't be certain.

They all started chatting and she learned that these two men had been discharged from the service after being wounded and now made their living working in support of the war. The apartment they were standing in belonged to Joe, while Frank lived a couple doors down. Joe also had whiskey and refreshed everyone's drinks at some point.

Eventually the girls excused themselves to go mingling. In between other groups, the girls talked among themselves. Mary and Barb both commented on how nice looking some of their neighbors were. Barb seemed especially enthralled by Joe, and let it slip that he was great at kissing... "among other things." Both her and Mary giggled at this cryptic confession, and Betty caught herself wondering about her friends' relationships.

After a couple hours, and a couple more drinks, Betty and Barb were chatting with a husband and wife couple that lived on the floor when Betty realized Mary wasn't with them. When the couple were called away she asked Barb where their friend had gone.

"Oh, I'm sure she's somewhere with a fresh drink," she shrugged. "You wanna find her?"

"Not necessarily, I was just wondering," Betty caught the hidden meaning in her answer, having noticed Mary's drinks disappearing faster than theirs own.

"Ok."

Moving through the party, stopping to chat with various people, they eventually ended up back in Joe's apartment where they found Mary. She was talking to some man and she'd obviously had plenty to drink as she was having trouble standing even though she was leaning against a table.

"Hey, Gary," Barb greeted the man. "Mary, looks like you've had enough."

"Yeash. I think you migh' be right," Mary agreed with a lopsided grin.

"Why don't I get you to bed."

"Shounsh good," she let go of the table and nearly fell, but Gary caught her.

"I'll help you, Barb," he said.

"Oh goody," Mary chuckled.

"I'll be back in a couple minutes," Barb told Betty. "Will you be okay?"

"She'll be fine," a male voice answered.

Turning around Betty found Joe standing a couple feet away, a smile on his face. She felt her breath catch a little.

"You take care of Mary," he said. "I'll keep Betty safe until you get back."

"Thanks," Barb smiled.

Then her and Gary half-led, half-carried Mary out of the apartment.

"So, you enjoying yourself?" Joe asked as they turned the corner.

"Um- Yes. Yes, I am," Betty stammered, unable to meet his gaze for a moment.

"Good. How long have you known the girls?"

"A few years now."

She started telling him about how the three of them had met and their time working together. He told her about his work and some of his life. And the minutes slipped by. At some point they were joined by Ken, Charlie, and Frank, and the four of them chatted about various things. Betty noticed that as time passed the wall of sound grew as people talked louder causing the radios to be turned up causing people to talk even louder. Their little group was having difficulty hearing each other, forcing them to repeat themselves. She also noticed that she was feeling a little light-headed from the alcohol. It was only a little and she believed she was still in control of herself, yet no loud alarms went off when Joe suggested they move into another room.

"We can close the door so we can hear each other better," he told her.

"Um-uh..." she hesitated, not completely clear on what he was suggesting.

"These guys will wait out here for Barb and let her know where you are," he assured her.

So, he meant for just the two of them to go into this other room. The idea made sense for conversational purposes, but it also had other possible... implications. Looking into his eyes, Betty believed they shone with a confident chivalry that made her concern deteriorate. And his smile made her blush slightly.

"Um- yea, I suppose that'd be okay," she agreed.

The other room was only a few feet from where they stood and he led her through the door, which he quietly clicked shut behind them. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light coming from the room's single little lamp she realized they were in his bedroom. It was furnished with a twin bed on a metal frame, a dresser, and a nightstand. This caused her concerns to rematerialize as she once more questioned his intentions.

"Do you need your drink freshened?" He asked, lifting a bottle from atop the dresser.

"Um... um..." she stammered, peering into his eyes in the dim light. They seemed to still shine with that same confident chivalry, although she now wasn't as certain of that definition. But thinking about it; where else could he have meant for them to go? After all, this and the bathroom were the apartment's only rooms with their own doors. His smile made her decide to give him the benefit of the doubt and play things out, to see if he did try anything. But she also decided it was time to curb her alcohol intake. "No. No thank you."

"So, why don't you tell me a little about your husband?" he suggested, pouring some whisky into his own glass. "I understand he was a hero?"

This surprised her; him bringing up Tommy. It didn't seem like the kind of thing a man with improper intentions would do.

"Yes-um," she felt the depression returning and realized that over the last couple hours she'd managed to forget about it. "He-um... He died saving his unit."

"Brave man."

"Yes. That's what the government said."

"I'm sorry for your loss. But I have to tell you, having been over there, his sacrifice is appreciated by his comrades."

"Thank you," she whispered. Then she did something she thought she'd decided against; she finished her drink and handed him her glass for more. "I think I will have another, please."

He obliged, pouring her some of the bottle. When she had her glass back they started talking again. She shared how her and Tommy had met in high school and how they'd married shortly after graduation. They'd tried to have children, but never did. Now that he was gone she was both thankful and saddened by this fact. Then she told him about Tommy's decision, like so many others, to enlist on December 8th and their last night together with her making him promise to come back to her. She'd thought that talking about these things would deepen her depression, but as she talked she felt it becoming less oppressive.

And in turn she felt more and more relaxed.

Eventually she finished sharing what she was comfortable sharing and the conversation once again turned to less personal subjects for several minutes. Again Joe made it all light and interesting.

Then it happened...

He kissed her...

There was a momentary lull in the conversation. He bent down... leaned in... touched his lips to hers. Standing there with her drink in her hand she instinctually returned the kiss, lifting up on her toes and turning her head, her eyes closing. It was a simple kiss, soft and warm, with gentle yet determined pressure. And it was comforting. She'd never thought a kiss could be comforting, but this was. As their lips lingered together and a tingle raced along her spine she brought her free hand up so her fingers could rest against his chest. The thought flashed through her mind that her last kiss had been a good-bye from her husband.

When he pulled away she opened her eyes to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, although his eyes told a different story. "It's just... you are so beautiful. I couldn't help myself."

"It- It's ok," she stammered, settling back on the bottoms of her feet. Her mind was suddenly filled by dozens of thoughts; the most prominent being the need to leave, to get out of this room and among other people. "I-um... I think I need to sit down though."

"Ok, we can go back out," he indicated the door. "Or you can sit on the bed."

Betty froze. She'd had every intention of leaving the room. That was why she's said what she'd said. But for some reason, hearing the latter option - something she hadn't thought of - made her pause. Looking past him at the door she could hear how the party's volume had grown while they'd been in the room and listening to that din made her want to stay... just sit on the bed and continue quietly talking with Joe. She knew the possible consequences... what he might try. She wasn't that naïve.

I'll just have to keep my wits about me, and if he tries anything, I'll leave, she thought.

"I guess it'll be ok," she said, moving to the bed.

She felt a moment's disappointment when he didn't join her, but instead remained standing a few feet away and resuming the conversation. She wondered why she felt that way, why she wanted him to join her on the bed.

Wouldn't that just give him more of a chance to try something? She asked herself harshly, while focusing on the conversation and trying to keep her questions from showing in her face.

After a few minutes she'd almost forgotten her frustrations when they were thrust back into the forefront, forcing her to reexamine her own commitment to her virtue.

Refreshing his drink, Joe set the bottle back on the dresser then stepped over to sit on the bed about a foot from her. As his body heat mingled with hers, a wave of excited anticipation surged through Betty. Recognizing the surge for what it was... what it meant, she told herself it was time to leave.

But she took no action.

She just sat there, sipping her drink, her nerves tingling and her heartbeat speeding-up.

As Joe nonchalantly continued their conversation for the next few minutes she started to believe she was being silly. That she was just nervous because she wasn't used to being in these types of situations.

But then he did it again...

He kissed her...

It was during another lull. He reached purposely past her to set his glass on the nightstand. As he drew back he turned and leaned in, bringing his lips to hers once again.

Her heart racing, she returned the kiss, her free hand returning to his chest.

Like the first, this one was soft and warm, gentle yet determined. But this one lasted longer... his lips lingering against hers. And it turned into another. Then another. He cupped her cheek with one hand. His other settled on her lower back, its heat radiating through her blouse to simmer against her flesh.

Ok, it's time to stop this.

But she still took no action.

Instead she leaned into the kiss, her body softening as warmth flowed through her. Braking the kiss, he took her drink from her and set it on the nightstand too. Watching him, her mind told her to get up... to leave.

But her body remained in place.

Returning his lips to hers he pressed a little harder. She sighed, the warmth flowing freely. Her emptied hand came to his side and both sets of fingers started to scratch lightly at his shirt. A moment later the tip of his tongue pressed between her lips. Mewing quietly, she accepted it into her mouth, raising her own in greeting.

They sat on the bed in the dim light, their kisses growing more and more impassioned. Their lips pressing together, tongues swirling over and around one another. The warmth flowing through her turned into an ache that pulsed along her nerves.

The hand cradling her cheek slid back to trace the contours of her ear... drew slow, deliberate lines down her neck, sending a shiver racing along her spine. Reaching the collar of her blouse it slid further down, drawing more lines in her flesh through the top. Gradually dropping lower, it eventually cupped one of her breasts with an urgency that both answered and added to her body's ache.

"Mmm," she mewed, feeling something stirring deep inside her... something she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Oh shit! Her mind screamed. I've got to stop this!

With the intention of doing just that her hand pulled away from his chest and grabbed his wrist. But just at that moment his fingers tensed, giving her mound an especially hungry squeeze.

"Mmm," she mewed, the sensation weakening her grip on his wrist.

His hand massaged her ample breast through her clothing, his fingers squeezing... molding. And with each squeeze the ache grew within her... her nipples stiffening... starting to poke at her bra's material. Pulling his lips away he broke their kiss and slid his mouth back to her ear. He kissed it... licked the edge... nibbled gently on her earlobe.

"Joe..." she breathed, trying to find the strength to tell him to stop.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his warm breath swirling inside her ear.

"Mmm," she sighed, her hand returning to his shoulder.

He brought his lips back to hers... kissed her. His tongue slid into her mouth and she raised her own to swirl over and around it. The ache in her body grew more, the manipulations of her breast feeding it.

Again her mind told her that she needed to stop this. But her body ignored it, instead arching her back to press herself into his hand.

His hand continued mauling at her through her clothing as they kissed again and again.