Chapter 8
"I take it that wasn't your lawyer?" the matron said as she led Brenda back to her cell.
"I don't need a lawyer," Brenda replied.
"Why? Wait, don't tell me. Let me guess. You've been wrongly accused and you're innocent?"
"Right on both counts, but that has nothing to do with it," Brenda replied.
The matron smiled, then locked her back in her cell. The matron glanced at the woman Brenda had tangled with and said, "Hey, she still hasn't moved."
"She probably won't for a while," Brenda said. "She attacked me and I had to defend myself. Just like I did before, which is what got me locked up in here. You want to get involved?"
The matron looked at her watch. "With only a half-hour to go on my shift? Thanks, but no thanks. Let her lie there."
She disappeared down the hall.
Twenty minutes later, she was back. "Come on, you gotta get your street clothes back on. You're free to go. No bail to pay, nothing. I never saw it happen this fast. Damn, you'll be out of here five minutes ahead of me." She glanced at the unconscious woman and added, "How is--? "
"She's coming around slowly," Brenda told her. "Five minutes more and she'll be her usual nasty self again."
"And the next shift's problem. I don't know a thing. Let's go."
Ten minutes later, Brenda was out of the building and in Rouel Blain's limo. She and Blain sat together in the back.
"So you figured it out?" Rouel said. "I'm glad. Now let's hear the logic."
"It's the usual Rouel Blain caper," she said. "Whatever happens, you win."
"Go on."
"Simple. You're getting ready to dump the franchise."
He said nothing, so she continued.
"The last thing you want right now are the usual brawls and lawsuits. That could run into thousands and thousands of dollars, which would affect the price of the franchise from the suckers who are buying it. They haven't figured out yet that they're getting a sport that is dying and you want to unload it."
"Really?"
"So when that brawl took place in the locker room, that pissed you off, even though it wasn't me who started it. You just had to teach me a lesson. You love to teach people lessons, like you're God, you miserable son-of-a-bitch."
"Now, now...."
"You had me thrown into the slammer and you'd have left me there until I was old and gray if I'd been dumb enough not to know what was going on," Brenda told him. "Then when I phoned Stanley, you knew you had to get me out in a hurry, or I would blab to the press and your plans to unload the franchise at a big profit would go up in smoke."
"I wouldn't have let you stay in there."
"Bullshit. You'd have let me rot in there. You had to show me you're the big, powerful, cock of the walk and I'm just another cunt you slide your prick into. You had to prove that, but not at the cost of fucking up your investments. So you had to forget about the lesson and spring me."
"I wouldn't have left you in there until you were old and gray," Rouel argued. "You'd have gotten a speedy trial, and come out the winner, because of the witnesses who claimed you weren't the cause of that fracas."
"Sure," Brenda said, gazing out the window.
"Another way I might have done it was an out-of-court settlement. It would have cost me a few thousand dollars, but I'd get that back on the sale of the franchise."
Brenda looked at him with a mirthless smile. "I like the way you actually did it. I'm out now, after spending less than an hour in that foul place. The important thing was speed. You got off your ass in a hurry when you knew I was going to expose your scheme. If you expect me to thank you, forget it. I would have been out on bail on my own anyway, and ultimately found not guilty."
"Of course."
"But it would have cost you the sale of the club, which would have continued to be a millstone around your financial neck," Brenda told him.
"I congratulate you," Rouel said, smiling at her. "You figured it all out."
"Not all of it."
"How's that?"
"Why did I have to go through this bullshit? Okay, so you gave me a test. Why."
"I think you know."
"Maybe I do, but I want to hear it from you."
Rouel was silent, looking down at the floor.
"You know," he said at last, "it's a funny thing, success. One triumph after another, each one a thrill like nothing else in the world. Then, one day you wake up and you've got everything you ever wanted, everything you ever imagined. And it's all hollow, empty."
Brenda almost laughed. She was getting the poor little rich boy routine.
"How can I put it?" Rouel went on. "If a man succeeds, he succeeds for someone in particular, a woman. He shows her that this is what's he's done, what he's accomplished."
"He wants a woman who will applaud him?" Brenda asked.
"He needs a woman who will care. He doesn't want just her praise or approval, but her understanding. That's what he has to have, so he can know beyond all doubt that what he has accomplished is not just a dream, that it didn't all happen inside his head, that what he's done has been done in a real world."
"He wants a woman who will understand him?"
"Yes. Not criticism or evaluation, but an understanding from his-well, my-point of view. I don't want and don't need opinions. What I need is pure, simple understanding."
"You.. .want understanding?"
"That this happened-period. Not that this is good or that is bad, or I should or shouldn't have caused this or that. Just, this is, and I understand what this is. So you see my problem?"
"Well, when you put it that way-"
"But I had to be sure," he went on. "You're beautiful enough, strong and tough enough, but-I had to be sure. And this was the only way I could think of. It's pointless telling someone everything if she doesn't understand it the same way I do. And you do."
"Of course."
"Of course," he echoed.
They were both silent for several moments. She understood, all right, she told herself. This self-centered son-of-a-bitch wanted a woman whose mind was a duplicate of his. He would do whatever he liked and she would understand it. Big deal.
If ever there was a man who needed the air let out of his balloon, he was it, she thought to herself. She could have been killed back in that jail cell and he would have been responsible for it. He caused her to be put in there. He was going to pay for that, she promised herself. She didn't know quite how yet, but he was going to pay dearly. She would see to that.
In the meantime, this big-time asshole was falling for her. Good. She'd find a way to use that.
"Well, how about it?" Rouel asked.
That, she assumed, was some kind of a proposal.
"You tell me," she said.
"You mean it?" he asked, grinning like a college boy who had just asked a girl if he could put his hand in her panties.
"In three months, you tell me."
He sat back, smiling.
"Incredible," he beamed.
"Three months," she repeated.
"Why three months?" he asked.
"That's the outside limit the roller derby will still look good to a cash buyer, but not a particularly well-informed buyer," she replied. "As long as you've got that project on your mind, you won't be thinking clearly about this other thing you're toying around with now."
"You call what I've just proposed, toying around."
"Whatever."
"It's the test I put you through, isn't it."
"What about it."
"You resent it."
"Yes, it's the test and no, I don't resent it. The test shows me where your head is at right now. This derby deal is the biggest thing you've got going. You can win big or you can lose big."
"So it's on your mind."
"It's in your mind, so that what would ordinarily be the most important decision of your life, is colored by the derby deal."
"Yes, you're right," he admitted. "I see that now. Doesn't that tell you something? You're the right choice. You could.. .contribute."
She threw her head back, laughing. "I could contribute? That will be the day."
"Now look-"
"Rouel, let me give you some advice," she said. "Never see me again. This thing you have for me is fucking up your head. Really. Nobody makes your decisions but you. No one ever has and no one ever will." She looked at him for a moment, then added, "Or are you testing me again?"
"No, I'm not testing you."
"Well, if I'm making you think and act this way, you'd be smart to dump me before we even get started."
"We have started, or haven't you noticed?"
"Just because over the past year we've fucked a lot?" She chuckled. "You don't have to make an honest woman out of me. Daddy won't show up with a shotgun. No, we haven't started anything."
He sat there, slumped.
"You're right," he said at last. "We haven't. Good thing one of us still has a head on straight. I don't know what's the matter with me."
"You let your guard down and now you're in love. But your liming is lousy."
"That must be it."
"Easy enough to fix. like I said, give it three months. You may be over it by then. I'll even help."
"Yeah? How."
"I'm leaving the team."
"Why?"
"Because you're suspending me."
The game was over, the crowd had left and the players were leaving the arena. Frieda was with Brenda and Cathy until she said good-night to them at the curb and crossed the street to a waiting car.
She gazed with adoring eyes at the handsome young man who sat behind the wheel after she got in. What normal, healthy woman with a hot cunt wouldn't? She slid across the bench seat, put her arms about him and kissed him. It was a long hot passionate kiss that went on and on.
While they were kissing, the young man's hand found its way up under her skirt and felt along her inner thighs to the crotch of her panties. Then he rubbed her pussy through the thin material, causing her to moan softly.
"Naughty, naughty," Frieda purred when their lips finally parted. "You need to exercise better control."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I have a low boiling point," she replied. "It might not be a good idea for me to haul out your pecker and make you fuck me right here and now, parked in front of a busy restaurant."
"Yeah?" said the young man. "Then what about your hand?"
Frieda gave a little chuckle. Her hand was on the bulge in the front of his pants, giving it a good feel.
"I was just checking, to see if it's in good working order, Andy, darling," she said playfully. "Feeling a little horny, are you?"
"A little?" he replied. "Just wait until I get you home and in bed. You'll see how horny I am. I've been thinking about you all day."
"You're taking me to your home? What about your wife?"
"She's at her mother's. Left this morning. She'll be there for a week."
"She will? Oh, honey, guess who's going to be in bed with you every night while she's gone."
"You, I hope."
"You got that right," Frieda chuckled. "And we won't be doing much sleeping either."
"Really? I promised my wife I'd behave myself, get lots of sleep and work hard."
"That last part will be right," Frieda said. "While you're in bed with me, you'll be working hard. If it isn't hard, you won't be working. And if you aren't working, I won't be in bed with you."
"I'm really hot for you tonight," Andy told her.
"Just tonight? You'd better be hot for me every night for a week. "That's a lot of bedroom time and I don't intend to spend it in idle conversation."
"I know. It takes a lot of screwing to keep your fire under control."
"Not to mention muff-diving," Frieda chuckled.
"Yeah, that too," he said, grinning at her.
"You're good at that, too."
"Glad you think so, Andy said with a pleased grin. "I love having my head between your legs."
"I sure don't have any complaints, honey," Frieda said.
"When you aren't fucking my pussy, you're eating it. When your prick isn't in my cunt it's up my ass. If you treated your wife that good, you'd never get her to go home to visit her mother for a week."
They sounded like a couple of lovers who were extremely hot for each other. They were lovers, secret lovers, and they were hot for each other. They made a hot combination. Frieda was a woman who needed a lot of cock, while he was a tireless horny stud who thrived on pussy.
They often lay cuddled up in bed together and chuckled over how shocked his friends and neighbors would be if they knew that he, a respectable married man, had a secret woman he was taking care of.
Brenda and Cathy might have envied her, had they known.
Frieda was getting a lot of cock from Andy. As for Andy, he was getting more pussy from her than he was from his wife and his wife's sister.
Frieda pulled Andy's hand out of her panties and placed it on the steering wheel. "Let's get out of here before somebody who knows you sees you necking with someone other than your wife."
As he drove down the street, Frieda's hand was on the bulge in the front of his pants.
"When we get to your place, are you going to treat me like a lady, or are you going to jump me as soon as we're in the house?" Frieda teased.
Andy laughed. Frieda had already made it clear what she was in the mood for. As soon as they got to his place, she expected him to put her down on the couch, or lead her into the master bedroom and go to work on her.
"As soon as I get you to my place, you're going to get a chance to spend the next two hours getting a good sound screwing," he warned her.
He made a left turn onto his street and turned into the driveway. He unlocked the front door and stepped in, waited until Frieda entered, then closed it and locked it. He led her to the couch where he seated himself beside her. While they kissed, he fondled her boobs.
Smiling at him, Frieda removed her blouse and bra, exposing them fully. "Would you like to kiss them?" she invited. "And lick them all over? And suck on the nipples?"
He was all over them, kissing and licking, his mouth pulling on the nipples. While he devoured them, he felt around between her legs. Frieda let out a little cry of delight when she felt his hand on her pussy. She spread her legs wide, because she wanted his exploring fingers to have easy access to her twat. She unzipped his pants, reached in and hauled out his boner, eager to play with that monstrous length of meat.
Moments later, because he was sucking on her tits, she lost control and sailed off into orgasm. It was a very intense one, comparable only to the night before when Jimmie had fucked her. She'd have bounced right off the couch if Andy hadn't been holding her down with his face on her tits and his hand on her cunt.
When she was finally able to speak, Frieda said, "Let's go up to your bedroom...."
In his bedroom, by the side of her bed, Andy watched as she stripped herself naked. He stared excitedly at her goodies while he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks, yanked off his shirt, then pushed his pants and undershorts down to his ankles and stepped out of them. His long, hard pecker was aimed right at her and it looked like it meant business. The sight of it sent thrills all through her and Frieda quickly got onto the bed. Andy was right behind her, playfully kissing her naked buttocks.
She spread her legs and Andy crawled between them. He teased her twat by rubbing the head of his dick back and forth along the moist lips. He did that until Frieda pleaded with him to stop fooling around and shove it in there.
"Do it, darling," she whispered in his ear as she wriggled around beneath him. "Give me what I want, your big, long cock. I need it. Slide it in there so I can show you again how good I can make it for you when you're balling me."
When at last she felt that long, thick shaft spread her twat lips apart and enter her fun hole, Frieda moaned softly and wrapped her legs about him, her heels digging into his humping butt.
It was the most heavenly sensation a horny woman could ever hope for. What joy it was to feel that awesome prick as it moved back and forth in her hot pussy.
"Ohhh, Frieda...." Andy groaned.
"Yes, darling," she purred. "It's wonderful, being joined together like this. I experience such intense pleasure when we're in bed together."
She started climaxing when she felt his deeply buried prick buck and jerk, then spew out its load of cream. His face was pressed onto one of her tits, the nipple thrust into his mouth, and he held her firmly by the cheeks of her ass while he pounded it to her. Her arms and legs were wrapped tightly about him and together they made the bed shake.
When it was over, they rested, but not for long. He fucked her a second time and then a third. They stayed there on the bed for the remainder of the night, fucking like newlyweds on their honeymoon.
She stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, a gorgeous creature with expressive blue eyes and light brown hair that hung in soft waves about her shoulders. She was naked and she was admiring herself.
"Not bad for a thirty-five-year-old woman," Marcella said to the image in the mirror. The image looked back at her with a satisfied smile on it's lovely features. "Even if I am a little overweight. Janet's young friend, Jimmie, mounted me quick enough, when I let him know I was interested in that big bulge inside his pants."
Janet was her very dear friend, an attractive, blonde woman who was the same age as her. Their husbands were golfing buddies. Jimmie was more than Janet's young friend. He was her secret lover. He looked after her pussy whenever her husband wasn't around.
Marcella smiled. If Janet knew her young lover was also screwing her, they wouldn't be friends for very long. Janet didn't believe that friendship should include sharing her favorite stud.
Standing before the mirror, she argued with herself as to whether or not she had a few extra pounds around her hips and ass she didn't need.
"So I'm slightly overweight," she told herself. "No one can say I'm fat, or even somewhat plump. Not quite buxom either. In those girdle ads on TV, the model refers to herself as having a full figure."
Actually, she was nicely filled out, rather than looking like those scrawny, undernourished models and actresses who are so in style in this day and age.
That was just it. She was in the wrong era. She was built along the lines of Jayne Mansfield, Mamie Van Doren, Ursula Andress, Anita Eckberg and Mae West. Today, no one wanted to look like that anymore.
"With a body like this, I could have made it big in the movies back in the thirties," she told the lady in the mirror. "But here I am, built just like those
I gorgeous creatures, but years too late, and when I go into a dress shop, I find the merchandise is for skinny women."
But she was not intimidated by the fact that only skinny women appeared on the covers of magazines and in TV movies and commercials. Most men liked a woman with some flesh on her bones, she reminded herself. She knew that for a fact. Whenever her husband was out of town on business, she didn't have any trouble finding a handsome stud who was only too happy to bring her home and spend the night in bed with her. Janet's young friend, Jimmie, didn't pass up the chance to throw a fuck into her when she took down her panties for him.
She liked men. Even old men, if they could still get their pecker to stand up. If not, they could still have fun together if one was a whiz at eating pussy.
For every woman there was a particular kind of man she liked, and Marcella was no different. She liked them young, around eighteen, nineteen or twenty. At that age, she told herself, a horny stud could fuck and never quit. She liked that, when a young man was in bed with her and he just kept on fucking.
The nice thing about a guy that age was that she could be seen with him, even by her husband, and no one would suspect she was making out with him.
One day, one of those gorgeous young studs came to her home with the intention of crawling up between her legs and slamming his prick into her, but his timing was off. Her husband hadn't left the house yet.
The young man's mother was a good friend of Marcella's. She simply told her husband her friend Arlene had sent her son over to get one of her cake recipes.
She knew there were a lot of young studs out there who thought she was sexy, not in spite of her extra padding, but because of it. Handsome studs with big hard pricks who could have slim, slender girls their own age whenever they wanted.
Her current secret lover was Janet's young friend Jimmie. She met him one afternoon at Janet's house. She was throwing a party for Becky, who was soon to be married. There was this gorgeous young guy there and Janet proudly introduced him to her. He was in his early twenties and built the way she liked to see a young man: tall, lean and muscular, with a big bulge in the front of his pants. What thrilled her even more was that he looked at her like he wanted to climb all over her. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off tits.
When she and Janet were alone for a moment, Janet said, "You made a hit with him. I think he has a crush on you." She said it like she thought it was all so sweet and innocent and it never occurred to her that her very dear friend would make a try for him herself. Some women were pretty dumb about things like that, Marcella thought.
Later, when she and Jimmie were alone in the kitchen, Janet having gone into the other room to serve her guests, he told her he had a thing for women who were built like her. She knew what thing he was talking about. It was long, thick and hard, and pushing the front of his pants out like a tent. She was pleased. Of course, she wanted a guy to respect her for her intelligence, but she didn't mind this horny young man lusting for her body. He asked if he could escort her home and she agreed.
"Can we leave right away?" he asked with a grin.
She smiled and nodded. He was obviously hot for her and wanted to spend some time alone with her before her husband came home from the office.
Once they were inside her house, she led him over to the couch. As soon as he was seated on it, he asked, "What time does your husband get home?"
She settled her ass onto his lap, put her arms about his neck and laid a hot, sexy kiss on him. When she finally let him come up for air, she said, "This is your lucky day, you horny young devil. My husband left this morning on a business trip. He won't be home tonight."
By then, Jimmie's hand was moving up under her skirt, feeling along her inner thighs to the crotch of her panties. He grinned at her and said, "You'll be lonesome in this house all by yourself. Don't you think I'd better stay here with you tonight?"
"How will you explain your being out all night to your sister Brenda?" she asked.
"After she gets home from doing her thing at the roller derby, I'll phone her and tell her I'm spending the night with you, because your husband is out of town and you feel nervous being in the house by yourself all night. She'll understand."
Marcella had to laugh. "Yes, I'm sure she will."
"So how about it?" Jimmie asked again.
"Well that depends," she said, gazing into his eyes with a mischievous smile. "Bedtime is a long way off and you may be pooped out by then."
He laughed. "I know you'll do your best to wear me out, but tomorrow morning you'll find I'm still going strong. I have endurance."
"So I've heard."
"Yeah? From whom?"
"You know how women like to gossip," she said. "You've been making out with at least two of my very dear friends. Not to mention Becky, who is soon to be married."
She and Jimmie agreed that women were as bad as men at talking about who was fucking whom. Then she got up off his lap and began to get undressed. He leaped up off the couch and stripped with speed. He was naked before she was, and dropped to his knees in front of her to drag her panties down from around her hips and ass. When she stepped out of them, his arms went about her hips and his hands grabbed hold of her buns. She let out a cry of surprise and delight when he kissed her pussy.
"You're a muff diver?" she exclaimed, as though she hadn't been told by her women friends. "No wonder those women are so wild about you."
Jimmie smiled and she knew what that smile meant. It never occurred to him that Becky had told her all about his pussy-eating expertise.
She parked her ass on the couch and spread her legs. Jimmie thrust his head between them and began kissing, licking and sucking, like he was eager to show her what a superb muff diver he was. He did that all right. He brought her off again.
They spent the next two hours in her bedroom, with him screwing her out of her mind. They snuggled up in one another's arms and slept for a while, but throughout the night, they did a lot more fucking than sleeping.