Midlife Surrender Ch. 02

Kara Johnson was so distraught over what had just happened between herself, Amy Marshall and Derek Strong that she had no recollection at all of traversing the two blocks that separated her house from Amy's, nor did she remember running the stop sign and nearly hitting a pedestrian. Once home, she pulled her car into the garage, immediately shut the door and hurried into the house, making sure all the lights were off and the doors locked. Then she went to the liquor cabinet, poured herself a stiff drink and sat in the family room in total darkness, praying that Amy wouldn't come over that evening.

It wasn't that Kara didn't like Amy, or even that she was angry with her. In fact, the person Kara was angry with was herself. How could she have let that happen? After all, Amy was one of her closest friends, and had been since Kara had moved into the neighborhood seven years ago fresh off a failed marriage. Amy was the one who'd stopped by that first day and spent hours helping her, a perfect stranger, unpack and get situated in her new digs. And then she'd insisted on her coming over for dinner and meeting her husband, Brad, refusing to take no for an answer.

And how did she repay her friend's kindness? By spying on her as she was having a torrid sexual encounter with a neighborhood boy half her age and then allowing the young man to bring her into the scene and fuck her while she ate Amy's pussy like a mad woman. How could she have let that happen? And how could she ever face her friend again?

* * *

When the doorbell rang at 12:30 the next afternoon, Kara had no doubt who it was. She so wanted to sit there and pretend not to be home. But that, she knew, would only put off the inevitable, and the longer it was put off, the harder it would be to face. So reluctantly, she rose to her feet and moved to the front door.

She pulled the door open slowly, half hiding behind it. "Hi, Amy," she said nervously.

"Hi," her friend answered. And then, after several awkward, silent seconds, she smiled. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"I'm sorry," Kara stammered, stepping back and pulling the door open. "Please, come in."

Once her friend was in the foyer Kara eased the door closed and turned around. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"I'd rather have a glass of wine," came the response.

"Now?" Kara responded instinctively. "It's only 12:30."

Amy stepped towards Kara, reaching out to stroke her arm. "I think a glass of wine might make this a little easier, don't you?"

Kara stepped back nervously, nodding her head. "Of course. Is Chardonnay okay?"

"Perfect," Amy replied.

Kara led her friend into her large country kitchen and pulled two glasses from the cupboard and a bottle of wine from the fridge. A moment later she was placing the filled glasses on the table and sliding into the chair across from Amy.

"Amy, I'm so sorry . . ." Kara started to blurt out, before Amy cut her off, reaching across the table and grabbing her arm.

"No," she said in a soft, but somehow strong voice. "You've nothing to be sorry for. You had no way of knowing our vacation was cut short. I should have called you the moment Brad's office called him in to work." She paused, then released her arm and picked up the wine glass.

"To friends," she toasted.

A few seconds passed before Kara took a deep breath and raised her glass.

"To friends," she echoed, if somewhat weakly.

The women each took a sip from their glasses and set them down. And then Amy spoke.

"I owe you an explanation," she said.

"No," Kara responded, shaking her head.

"Yes," Amy insisted. "And we're going to sit here until you hear it. Okay?"

"Okay," Kara responded with a reluctant sigh.

"It started about a month ago. I was having an affair with Warren, someone I met at the gym. As usual, Brad was out of town for the week on business. And also as usual, I couldn't wait to let Warren get into my pants." She paused here, noticing the increasingly pale face of her friend.

"Come now, Kara. You not telling me you're surprised by that, are you?"

"No," she answered honestly. "I've always wondered if you didn't have something going on the side. I'm just surprised to hear you talking about it so cavalierly."

Amy hesitated, as if pondering what to say next. Finally she gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head and continued. "Okay, truth time. First of all, Brad's gay. Oh, he plays at being straight, even performs his husbandly duties every couple of months, but that doesn't change the facts that, primarily, he's gay. It's something we've never, ever talked about, but I have no doubt that he knows I know.

"As for my part, I started fooling around behind his back a bit after I found out his secret. And again, although we've never talked about it, there's no doubt in my mind that Brad knows about most, if not all, of my indiscretions."

Kara looked stunned. "But you seem so happy together. Is it all just a ruse?"

"No," Amy replied emphatically. "I love my husband very much. He's the most loving, caring and supporting man I've ever known, and I've no doubt that he has similar feelings about me. I guess the bottom line is that neither one us is about to let the fact that we both love being with other men screw up an otherwise perfectly good marriage."

She reached across the table and put her hand on Kara's. "Make sense?"

"Maybe," Kara manage to reply, a small smile curling at the corner of her mouth. "In a strange kind of way."

Amy withdrew her hand and shrugged her shoulders. "I never said we were normal." Then she took another small sip from her wine and started back in on the story.

"Anyway, I was feeling particularly slutty that afternoon and wanted to make certain Warren got the message. I wore a black, lacy bra that was more than a bit visible through the sheer black button up blouse I'd picked out. The blouse was cropped straight at the waist and just barely reached the top of my grey and black pleated skirt. The skirt fell to just below mid-thigh and barely covered the tops of my black thigh high nylons. And just to make sure Warren didn't misunderstand, I topped it all off with my black high-heels. I tell you, Kara, if you didn't know better, you'd have sworn I was one of those hookers down on Bridge Street.

"Anyway, when I was finally satisfied that I was making the proper impression, I grabbed my purse and stepped into the garage, pressing the button to raise the door before getting into the car. But before I was able to start the car, the passenger door opened and Derek slid in, throwing a small backpack on the floor beneath his feet."

Amy paused then, taking another sip of wine as she relived the moment in her head. "I mean to tell you, Kara, when that car door open I nearly lost it, and I didn't hesitate to give our young neighbor a piece of my mind.

"'Jesus, Derek,' I said, 'what the hell do you think you're doing? You nearly scared me to death!'

"He apologized, saying he hadn't intended to scare me, it was just that he needed to talk to me and saw me getting into the car as he was coming up the driveway. Without really thinking, he'd hurried up the driveway and jumped in the car.

"Well, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. 'Okay,' I said. 'So what's so important that you had to scare me half to death?'

"He looked around quickly, as if he expected to find someone spying on us. 'I know this seems strange, Mrs. Marshall,' he said. 'But it's really important. Would you mind terribly if we went someplace else to talk about it? I promise I won't keep you long.'

"I tell you, Kara, at this point I didn't know what to think. I mean I've known Derek for several years, but only as one of the neighborhood kids who once in awhile would help me with a chore or two when Brad was away. And now, here he was, uninvited in my car with some crisis he needed to talk to me about. I guess I was too unnerved by it all to think clearly, so I said okay.

"'We can go to Murphy's,' he said."

"Murphy's?" Kara questioned.

"It's a grill and bar on a side street off Highland Avenue about three miles east of the mall. Anyway, I nodded my head and said sure.

"It didn't take long to get there. Derek directed me to the overflow parking lot, which is in the back and away from both the main lot and the restaurant itself. He then instructed me to park in a secluded spot that was mostly hidden behind a brick enclosure that housed the dumpster. I know I should have been suspicious at this point, Kara, but in my defense, I was still pretty unnerved by the whole situation and I definitely wasn't thinking straight.

"We got out of the car and he led me to the front of the restaurant. The waitress showed us to a table near the window, but Derek asked if there was any way we could have the large, horseshoe shaped booth in the back corner.

"'Well,' the waitress responded, 'we normally don't give that out unless there's five or six people in your party, but since we're a bit slow right now, why not?'

"When we reached the booth Derek stepped aside and allowed me to slide in first. But instead of moving around the table and sliding in on the other side, he slid in right behind me. Then, as I was sliding further around the table, Derek looked at the waitress and, without consulting me, ordered a Coke for himself and a chardonnay for me.

"The waitress smiled and left. Then, before I could say a word, Derek reached into his backpack and pulled something out, tossing it on the table in front of me."

At that point Amy paused, reached for her wine glass and drained it. "May I have another glass?" she asked.

"Of course," Kara said, suddenly very into the story and slightly bothered by the interruption. When she returned, she set the glass down in front of Amy and slid into her chair. "Well, what was it?" she asked impatiently.

"What it was," Amy said after taking a sip of wine, "was a picture of me, completely naked, with Warren's cock buried in my pussy."

"Oh my God!" Kara gasped. "How did he get that?"

"He took it through my bedroom window, which I'd inadvertently forgotten to draw the curtain across, but that's not really the point. The point is he had it, and many more like it, according to him."

Amy paused again, twirling the wine glass absentmindedly in her hand before taking a deep breath and raising her eyes to meet Kara's.

"It was instantly obvious that he hadn't brought me there to politely discuss my sinful ways; he'd brought me there to blackmail me. The only real question was what did he want; money or sex. Well, Kara, knowing what you now know about my relationship with my husband, you can see the interesting situation I was presented with. I mean, since I'm positive my husband knows of my affairs, there's really nothing to hide. But at the same time, did I really want to risk upsetting the apple cart?"

"So what did you do?" Kara interrupted impatiently.

"What I did," Amy answered, "was pick up the picture and, while pretending to examine it, tried to compose myself. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was really only a handful of seconds, I held out the picture to him.

"'Okay,' I said. 'I cheat on my husband. What of it?'

"Derek didn't respond at first, instead slipping the picture back into his backpack. Then, just as he was about to speak, the waitress appeared with our drinks.

"'Are you two ready to order?' she asked.

"'If you don't mind,' Derek responded, 'there's a few things we need to discuss first. If you could give us about fifteen minutes, I'd really appreciate it.'

"'No problem, Honey,' she told him. 'Just shout if you need anything.' And with that she turned and headed back to the kitchen. As soon as she was out of earshot, Derek turned back to me.

"'I have to admit, Mrs. Marshall, you put up a good front. But the question is, is it just a front, or are you really prepared for me to give the pictures to your husband?'"

And again, Amy reached for her wine glass and took a sip.

"That's when I realized two things, Kara," she continued. "First, my panties were soaking wet, and second, I was more excited than I'd been in a very long time."

"What?" Kara gasped. "You mean . . ."

"That's exactly what I mean," Amy said, pausing again as she searched for the right words to convey her emotions of the moment. Then she leaned forward, placed both arms on the table and looked into her friend's eyes.

"Kara, I've been with a lot of men, and a few women to boot. And I've been in just about every sexual situation you could imagine, or at least I thought I had. But I'd never been blackmailed before, and quite frankly, the thought of being forced to do things against my will really had my juices flowing.

"But still," she said, pausing slightly, "it was blackmail we were talking about and I was more than a bit nervous at the prospect. So I tried to think of how to string him along while I had time to sort things out.

"'So, what's the price of your silence?' I asked.

"His reply was simple and quick. 'You.'

"Kara, I tell you, I can still remember the shiver of excitement that shot up my spine at that one little word. I remember thinking that if only he was twenty years older, or at least a bit closer to my age, maybe something truly special could come of this evening. You see, even then I didn't really understand just how much power this 19 year-old boy held over me. I guess I figured I'd be able to play along on my terms and, somehow, walk away if things got tough."

"So," Kara interjected impatiently, "what happened next?"

"I looked him in the eye and said, with as much bravado as I could muster, 'I don't understand.'

"He smiled and replied. 'In a nutshell, Mrs. Marshall, I want what most 19 year-old guys only fantasize about; a slut-toy. And in my case, that means you. Put another way, I want your body and I want your soul. And if I don't get them, I'll take my pictures to your husband.' Then he paused, watching as my jaw fell open. 'Now do you understand, Mrs. Marshall?'

"Kara, it was at that precise moment that I realized just how much I'd misjudged Derek. I wasn't going to be able to dissuade him; I was either going to agree to his terms and become his slut-toy, or he was going to take the pictures to Brad. That's also when I realized another thing -- I really didn't give a crap if he gave the pictures to Brad or not, just as long as he didn't let me off the hook.

"Things got a little fuzzy then, but I remember the shiver that ran down my spine as I nodded my head in acknowledgement. And I remember the look in his eyes when he shook his head and said, 'What was that, Mrs. Marshall? I didn't hear you.'

"And while a small part of me was trying to figure out how events had gotten out of hand so quickly, the rest of me was responding obediently, 'Yes, I understand.'

"'Very good,' he said. And before I even had enough time to gather myself, he started right in. 'We'll start with some obedience training. Your panties, Mrs. Marshall.'"

At this point a loud gasp escaped Kara's throat, but she stifled it quickly, not wanting to interrupt the story.

"I was still somewhat stunned, so it took me a moment to comprehend what he'd said," Amy continued, "and another moment to respond. 'My panties?'

"'Yes, your panties,' he replied. 'Take them off.'

"'Here? Now? You can't possibly be serious,' I countered. That's when he reached over, grabbed me by the hair and pulled me against him.

"'Oh, but I'm very serious, Mrs. Marshall. Now take off your panties!'

"I gasped, 'Owe! You're hurting me.'

"'I'll do more than hurt you if I have to tell you again,' he said, the impatience in his voice becoming obvious. 'Now take off your panties.'"

Amy paused, searching her friend's eyes for some sign of understanding.

"You didn't," Kara questioned, a shocked expression on her face. And when Amy nodded her head -- yes -- Kara gasped. "Right there? In the middle of the restaurant?"

"Kara, I'll tell you truthfully, I was so hot right then that I was beyond caring. If he had told me to rip off my clothes and lie down on the table so he could fuck my brains out, I just might have done it. Besides, the lighting in there was quite subdued and we were in the back corner of the restaurant. It was unlikely anyone even knew we were back there. Even so, my hands were shaking like they've never shaken before as I lifted my ass off the seat, reached under my skirt and slid my panties off."

There was another hesitation while both women took a sip of wine. "Then," Amy continued, "when I went to put the panties in my purse, he stopped me.

"'I'll take those,' he said. I hesitated briefly, but ultimately placed them in his outstretched hand.

"I'll never forget what happened next. He took the panties and rubbed them slowly between his fingers, before holding them up to his nose.

"'Feels and smells like horny pussy to me,' he said. And then he reached out, lightly grabbed another handful of hair and turned my head slightly to the side. 'Tell me, Mrs. Marshall,' he asked, 'are you getting excited?'

"I didn't answer him, Kara; I couldn't. It was all too much and happening way too fast. So I sat there staring at him. But he wouldn't accept my silence, instead pulling me towards him until my body was pressing up against his.

"'I asked you a question, Mrs. Marshall. Are you getting excited?' he repeated.

"This time, I nodded my head. 'Yes,' I gasped, and with no direct contact whatsoever, a small orgasm shook my pussy."

There was a small pause before Amy continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Kara, I swear to God I came without even being touched. That's never happened to me before. Ever."

This time it was Kara who reached across the table to take her friend's hand. "What happened next?"

"By now he knew he had me; that as long as he kept up the attack there was nothing I could or would do to stop him. So he released his grip on my hair, slid my panties into his backpack and proceeded to press his advantage.

"'Now, Mrs. Marshall, I want you to put your hands between your legs, and I want one hand to stroke your clit while the other hand fucks your pussy.'

"I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. And as I sat there with me jaw hanging open, he leaned closer. 'Now, Mrs. Marshall,' he said in a voice so soft I could barely hear it. And almost like they had a mind of their own, my hands slid under my skirt.

"I leaned back against the seat, inadvertently sliding down an inch or so as I squirmed under his scrutinizing gaze, one hand dancing over my clit while the other dove into my pussy. And despite the fact that I'd just orgasmed, the tingling feeling in my loins was undeniable as I surrendered to my growing lust.

"He let me play with myself for several moments, watching as my squirming and moaning grew, before finally reaching out and grabbing my arm.

"'That's enough,' he said.

"'What?' I responded, stopping only briefly before putting my hands back to work.

"'I said that's enough,' he repeated, releasing my arm in favor of another handful of hair.

"I stopped then, but left my hands where they were, buried under my skirt as I stared at him through lust-crazed eyes. When he was satisfied that I'd stopped he released my hair and turned for his backpack, withdrawing a small, remote control vibrating egg.

""Open your mouth,' he ordered. This time, I obeyed without hesitation, opening my my mouth wide as he slid the egg in.

"'Suck on it,' he ordered. 'I want it nice and wet so it will slip inside your pussy real easy.' The sigh that escaped my throat was unmistakable as I sat there, obediently sucking on the egg while he slid it in and out of my mouth a dozen or so times.

"'Okay,' he said as he pulled the egg from my mouth. 'Lift up your skirt.'