(c) Tx Tall Tales
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My first time as a birthday present.
Doing a re-edit to my last chapter in the Two Moms, Two Laps series, so I thought I'd toss this out there, while I'm waiting.
Simple little story about a good deed, and the ample rewards. First chapter is the build up. Second chapter is the pay off. Both completed and will be submitted one day apart.
Yes, this is a LW story, but not a cheating, humiliating or cuck story. Not even a slut-wife story, although our heroine does misbehave, within the bounds of their marriage.
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I was doing a little shopping, picking up a few items, when I noticed her.
Tall, deceptively so. The two-inch platform, six-inch beige heels were too much for her to maneuver in her state. She stumbled along, beside, I assumed, her husband.
The put upon man looked embarrassed, as his wife's wobbling walk meandered along nearby. Every so often she'd stumble a little, her knee flexing outward, her foot turning. She looked drunk off her ass, and I was wondering what she was doing shopping in that condition.
I figured her for 30ish. Great body, wrapped in a single lightweight clingy stretch dress that reached half-way down her thighs. I was happy to follow them down the aisle for the view.
I lost them, skipping a few rows to hit the frozen foods aisle. I had just loaded my basket when I felt the weight on my arm.
There she was, clinging to my bicep, the smell of alcohol overpowering anything else she might be wearing. I was hunched over the basket, weight on my elbows, as I was walking. She had stumbled into me, and latched on.
"I'm sorry, baby. I'll make it up to you. Promise. Make you feel wunnerful," she whispered, her head hanging low, pressed against the side of my shoulder.
I looked around and didn't see the other half of her party nearby. Don't know why, but I didn't disabuse her of the idea I was her husband.
I walked slowly, the clunk of her awkward shoes out-pacing my own quieter steps.
"Don't be mad," she said softly. I almost leaped out of my skin when her hand slid down my front, grasping my crotch. "Suck you dry tonight, big boy. Suck, suck, suck."
I gently moved her hand away, just in time. I saw her husband's back, at the end of the aisle, and he appeared to be looking around for something. I had a pretty good idea what.
We walked over and I pulled up beside him. "I think you lost something," I said grinning.
His eyes blew open, and I thought he was going to have a fit, but then his features softened. "Dana," he said softly.
She looked up at him, and smiled, a big stupid drunken smile. She was still clinging to my arm, and didn't seem to notice the incongruency of her actions.
It was an odd little scene, he, standing there, eyebrows lifted, waiting. Dana leaning against me, her arm through mine, smiling for her husband. I stood quietly, not wanting to be part of any big scene.
"Can we go home?" she said.
He started chuckling as I pulled her arm off of mine, and eased her over to her husband. She took a half-dozen tiny wobbly steps, and grabbed onto him for support. I don't even think she knew I was there.
It was then I realized part of his wife's problem.
We were very similar. Both around 6' tall, probably 190# or so, wide bodies. Dark hair, pretty short. White polo shirts. Jeans. From behind, it was easy enough to see how she'd made the mistake. I was maybe a inch or so taller, but other than that, remarkably similar.
"Sorry about that," he said, turning his wife to face me. It was the first time I'd seen her head on, and I was momentarily stunned by how beautiful she was. She squinted at me, and her cute little nose and forehead crinkled up in confusion. "Birthday celebration started early. I'm gonna kill those friends of hers," he explained.
Dana looked back and forth between us, then leaned her head against her husband's shoulder. "Please don't be mad," she whined.
We parted ways, and I figured it was over. I'd have a cute little story to tell at work on Monday.
In the parking lot, I walked toward my car. There was an open space about two away from mine, and as I walked by, I heard the crying before I saw anything.
She was sitting on the ground, tears running down her cheeks. It was not a very demure position, her legs crossed, her bare crotch exposed, where her dress had ridden up.
I stopped and reached down to pull her to her feet. She looked up and threw herself into my arms. "Don't leave me, Gary! I'm sorry!"
"Shh," I said, holding her upright. "I'm not your husband. Where did he go?"
She looked into my face, squinting. "You!" she blurted, and swung her hand at my face.
I dodged it and gave her a little shake. "Stop that!"
"Why'd you get me in trouble?" she whined. "I di'nt do nothin'." She started crying.
"Dana, where's your husband?" I repeated.
She shook her head. "He lef' me," she sobbed. She looked up at me again, confusion reigning. "Do I know you?"
"Come on. I'll take you home. You're in no shape to be out here by yourself."
She agreed, an indication of how drunk she was. She let me move her to my arm, and she clung on for the 20 feet or so it took to get to the car. I let her in, fastened her seatbelt, resisting some very reasonable urges, and backed out of the space. "Where do you live?"
She gave me the address, after a couple of tries. They were new to the neighborhood, only about a mile from my house. My GPS gave me the needed directions, and I listened to her whine about her situation for the few minutes it took to get her home.
"Di'nt give my panties away," she sulked. "I forgot them at Sheri's this morning. I was inna hurry, get home. Bitches wouldn't let me go till I f...finished my birthday shots. Not my fault."
"Birthday shots?"
"Twenty eight. I on'y did 17 las' night. Then dey
spank
me!"
"Spanked you last night?"
She was struggling with the seatbelt, and got it undone. She turned her butt toward me, getting on her knees, and lifted the bottom of her skirt. "This mornin'! I wasn't fuckin' no one, they spank' me!"
Cute little pink cheeked butt. One foot was on the floor, opening her up. I saw her puffy bare pussy was very red. "They spanked your pussy?"
She straightened out her dress, and sat down.
"Carla. Bitch. She starteded it and th'others wouldn't stop. Twenty-eight, each. All five of 'em." She crossed her arms, sulking. "Gonna get 'em back. Got me in trouble."
The image of her being held down, legs parted, and five women taking turns slapping her pussy was getting me worked up.
I pulled up to her house, and the driveway was empty. "You sure this is where you live?"
She nodded. "Know m'own
house
," she pouted.
I got her out of the car, enjoying another crotch shot. I walked her to the door, and after a minute of watching her fumble with her keys, took them from her and unlocked the house.
She stumbled toward the couch, and fell on her hands and knees. I lifted her and laid her on the couch, pulling her dress down, after stealing another titillating look.
"You're a nice guy," she said softly, wiggling into a comfortable position. "Wass your name?"
"Jack," I laughed.
"Whasso funny?"
"You showed me your butt, and only now ask me my name?"
She grinned. "Naughty. You wanna blowjob?"
"Of course I do, Dana. You're gorgeous. But it's not going to happen."
"I promised. I 'member, in the store. Suck you dry." She had her eyes closed, talking softly. She'd pass out before she finished me once, never mind sucking me dry. Besides, I'm not the kind of guy to take advantage of a drunken woman. Especially not a married one. Not after my own personal experience. No way.
"Suck, fuck, fuck, suck," she whispered. "Iss my birfday." She practically sang the ending. Damn, she was cute.
I grabbed an afghan off a nearby chair and draped it over her. I leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Happy Birthday, Dana."
She smiled for me, already half-asleep.
I was torn between watching over her, and getting out while the getting was good. The decision was made for me when her husband came in through the kitchen. "DANA!" he shouted.
"She's out, on the couch," I said softly, walking toward him.
He stopped short, whether because of my comment, or my presence, I wasn't sure. I saw him blush. "You brought her home?"
I nodded. "Couldn't leave her there. Not in her condition."
"She... she got out of the car. She was screaming. Ran between the cars. I... told her she could walk home, but I didn't mean it. It was stupid, I just wanted her to calm down. That's all, calm down. I drove to the end of the row and waited. She never came back. When I drove back to where I left her she was gone. I drove up and down all the rows, checked the entrance. Even had her paged. I... I thought I lost her. Didn't know what to think. I've never been so scared."
I could see how upset he was.
"She didn't even have her purse. It was in the car. Couldn't call her. I was scared to death."
"It's alright now. She's lying down. I didn't do anything to her. I hope you believe that."
He nodded. "Figure you wouldn't be here if you did. Probably at your place or a motel. I really fucked up, didn't I?"
"Not my call. Screwed up enough on my own not to judge anyone else. She tell you about last night?"
"Her sorority bitch friends. Taking her out to get her drunk and laid. Evil sluts."
I shook my head. "Twenty-eight shots, for twenty-eight years. Eleven this morning, when she was still probably half-hammered from last night. Spanked the shit out of her, twenty-eight swats each. Apparently most of them between her legs, instead of on her ass."
"She told you all that?"
"Yeah. Swore she didn't screw around. I believe her, although I guess that doesn't matter. Pretty incriminating, drunk as a skunk, no panties, and red as a beet down there."
"You saw?" I could see the anger building.
I decided to shade the truth a little. "She was sitting on the pavement, her dress halfway up her waist. I'm sure she didn't realized she was showing the entire world the results of her birthday spanking."
"Fuck. Yeah, it looked pretty bad, didn't it?"
