Chapter 7: Soccer Mom - Part One

Ken and I have been going on with our lives together with a sort of truce. Having sex once in a while when the stars are right, I guess is the best way to say it, but then having long silences, too.

I cannot put his affair out of my mind. I just cannot! But we struggle on to keep a stable family atmosphere and I guess it is not bad, considering, and compared to what some people have, it is perhaps above average.

But occasionally, I am afraid that I’d fall off the wagon and return to my screaming anger, which I expressed when first confronted with his affair. A rage just rises up in me and I lash out.

I had not been with my young lover, Teddy, for several weeks. I had met the girlfriend who was his age and anticipated that our time together probably was inevitably going to end. But hope springs eternal at times like this. One night, I slammed a few doors, screamed at my husband and headed upstairs to dress for a night out without him.

Her appeared in the door after I had showered and was seated pulling long nylons up my legs and snapping them to a red garter belt.

“Going someplace?”

“YES!”

“Where?

“Out!”

“Please, can’t we talk about this?”

“We talk all the time. Nothing can change what you have done. We just have to do our best. This is my best, Ken, if I don’t get out of here I will be a screaming meemie.”

“Are you going out with someone? A Man?”

“I’m just going out!”

He went quiet. We went quiet. I tucked my breasts into the cups of the red transparent brassiere and leaned forward to let them fall into place in the cups.

My shoes were strappy white to go with a white skirt and a rather see-through blouse under a dark blue fitted jacket.

I dabbed perfume between my breasts and at the back of my knees. Because he was looking, I pulled my skirt up above my stocking tops and dabbed a little on each thigh, too.

I floated past him in a cloud of perfume and shampoo.

I drove down to the Irish bar where I knew he hung out with his friends and parked along the street since the parking lot was full. I walked in the front door and immediately saw him dancing closer and entangled with his young girlfriend. I quickly retreated. I was disappointed but had no right to feel jealous or jilted or anything else. It was the most natural thing in the world. Still I couldn’t help feeling terribly disappointed.

Determined not to go back home, I drove around town for a while thinking. It began to rain and there is nothing more depressing than the flip-flop of windshield wipers whisking back and forth in the darkness. The shimmering streetlights remind me of an old movie where the bad guys have just murdered the pretty young girl and the cops are on the way. Just like clockwork, a police siren screamed, and he flashed past with red lights flashing, adding to the gloom of the scene. I pulled into a big hotel and gave my keys to the doorman.

“Any bags, ma’am?” he said with a welcoming smile.

“No, no bags, I’m just going to the restaurant.”

I clicked into the spacious lobby and found the bar. There were not a lot of patrons and that suited me. I decided a table of one looked too damned lonely and slid onto a comfortable bar stool. The bartender slipped a napkin toward me with a smile.

“Kind of nasty out there, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I came in to get out of the rain, really. It’s really pelting down.”

“Can I get you something?”

“Just a white wine ... Chablis?”

“I have a Chenin Blanc that’s the bar wine tonight. Very good and a little cheaper.”

“Good, thank you.”

We slipped into easy conversation, the bartender and I. I began to feel better about myself, and the glass of wine was delicious and cheered me a little more. Another appeared immediately.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Perfect. Thanks for recommending it.”

Others kept coming in and the band began setting up by the tiny dance floor. I was still feeling sorry for myself and the couples filling the tables didn’t help. Several businessmen wandered in, looking tired and lonely as they do when they are on the road alone.

“Come here often?”

He was a handsome man with gray at the temples and the look of a salesman in the way he was dressed. A tie, a very good suit and a ready smile.

“Occasionally.”

“From around here?”

I nodded.

“I’m a long way from home. Dallas.”

“That explains the suntan.” I said.

The band started. He didn’t move closer. Just sat there three stools away, looking my way from time to time. I wondered if he was trying to start up a conversation. He caught the eye of another man across the oval shaped bar and they had a casual chat about some sports event which I didn’t understand.

My bartender friend returned to wipe the bar and give me a new napkin and a bowl of potato chips. “The chef makes them, very nice,” he said. “Can I bring you another glass of wine?”

“Yes, thanks.”

I swiveled the stool and looked through the lobby and the distant rain still pelting down in the street.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed the fellow’s eyes locking on my legs. I don’t mind men admiring my legs and I lingered in that position, then slowly crossed my legs and swiveled back to my drink.

The music started. An acoustic instrument band playing old standards. Perfect for dancing.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure. Thank you.” I said with a smile. He seemed like a very nice guy and we had by now exchanged friendly banter. The bartender looked at me for assurance that it was OK if Brian bought me a drink. He took away the glass and gave me a fresh napkin and glass of Chenin Blanc. Brian moved closer.

“Would you care to dance?”

“I love to dance. So, yes, kind sir.”

He turned out to be a very good dancer and we stayed on the floor for several numbers. Enough that with each song, we danced a little closer, a little more intimately fondling each other’s body. His hand had searched my bra strap, slipped down to coast along my hip. He found the waistband of my panties, too, and then explored the top curve of my bottom.

We sat and drank again.

“Look, if I’m interfering with anything ... just shoo me away. I’m just a lonely guy looking for pleasant conversation and you are lovely to look at and lovely to talk to. But I will understand completely if I am in the way for any reason.” It seemed a curious thing to say.

“No ... not at all ... I’m enjoying it too.”

“OK. Good.” He scooted the barstool closer and put his knee against mine. I didn’t pull away and the warmth that two pressed knees provides felt inviting on a rainy night. Outside, the rain had picked up again.

“Would you look at that rain coming down.”

“Does it go up in Texas?” I joked.

He grinned and his hand slipped under my arm so that he was “copping a feel” of my breast with the back of his hand. I clamped my arm down on his hand for just a moment and then relaxed and he left his hand there. The fingers nudged my breast through blouse and thin brassiere. We were definitely flirting. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but it made me feel better after the earlier disappointment looking for Teddy.

Brian was drinking scotch and water against my glasses of wine, so he was beginning to be very loose and I was definitely feeling the wine. MY face was a little flushed and I was really very smooth while dancing. Brian’s hand was on my knee and my skirt was just above his hand, I noticed. After a time, I moved his hand down, but held it dangling between our chairs. We smiled at that and he didn’t seem to take offense.

We danced again and this time I could feel the hard shaft of his cock against my tummy. I moved so that it moved from one flank to the other, sliding neatly over my mound. When he turned us sharply, I felt his thigh between my legs, and he held it that way while I pressed my mound against him. We looked into each other’s eyes for that moment and I smiled demurely at him. I thought I felt him tremble a little.

“Uh ... how much would it be?” he whispered into my ear as we continued the slow caressing dance.

“What?”

“What do you charge?”

I thought a minute, then realized he thought that I was a prostitute. I remained calm. My heart beat more rapidly, unsure of what to say.

I leaned back into his arms and looked into his eyes, then smiled and tucked my head on his shoulder.

“You don’t really want to know ... do you?”

I was starting to enjoy the game. My heart was pumping wildly. Could I carry it off?

He nodded.

“Two-fifty...” I whispered, sure that that would put him off the subject. “Plus tips!” I said boldly, sure that that would put a cap on the conversation and we could go back to just making friendly banter.

“Whew!” he murmured. “That’s steep.” He continued dancing and I felt his hand exploring once more, this time fondling slowly across the full curve of my bottom. “You must be very good.”

“You almost know all my secrets by now with those magic fingers.” I was feeling like I had the upper hand. I knew that the price would surely stop the silliness.

We sat down again, exchanging knowing smiles.

“I suppose that includes all the discounts I’m entitled to? Old age? Out of town visitor?”

I laughed with him and led his hand back to my knee as we sat facing each other perched on the bar stools. His fingers slipped only an inch or two under my skirt and I left my hand on his forearm, giving him approval. His hand felt warm there. He squeezed and moved his hand on the taut nylon.

We chatted a little longer. He went to the men’s room and on the way back I saw him lean over to ask the bartender something.

“The bartender says there’s an ATM in the lobby. So ... I think it will be worth it. I’ll be right back,” he said, whispering in my ear and cuddling me possessively in his arms. He strode away, leaving me in shocked silence. Now what would I do? I was struck dumb and my cheeks were flushed with having been caught on my own joke.

Wayne, the bartender, brought another glass of wine and I sipped it immediately.

“Everything all right?” he asked, leaning toward me.

“Yes, fine, thanks, Wayne!” He smiled and went down the bar.

In five minutes Brian was back, standing behind my chair and looking at me in the mirror. He looked nervous. If he only knew how nervous I was. What to do, what to do. I concluded that he was not used to going to prostitutes, really just a nice guy, taken with a strange girl while out of town.

He pressed a folded bunch of money into my hand and tried to be nonchalant about it. I had no idea how these transactions took place. I glanced down at my hand and looked at his nervous, flushed face. I kissed his cheek. It was all I could think to do.

“That will be for ... everything, right?” he asked.

“Within reason.” I replied. He nodded quickly. I wondered what he meant by that, and then I wondered what I meant by my reply.

“You’re beautiful!”

“Thank you, Brian.”

Both slightly tipsy, we walked hand in hand toward the tower of glass the elevators were in. The elevator streaked up through the lobby floors and then plunged into the darkness. The rain pelted against the glass and we came to a stop near the top floor. From here the rainy streets were rather pretty and I felt his arm tighten around my waist pulling me closer and then his lips seeking mine. I think I remember in the movies that the hookers don’t kiss their customers, but I made an exception. His tongue slipped between my lips and I dueled with it while he held the door open until the alarm started ringing. In that brief time, he had squeezed my breast, touched my mound with the back of his hand and pressed an eager bulge against my tummy. I knew that the evening had already made my panties a little damp.

We found his room and he fumbled with his pass card. It didn’t work at first and he swore and nervously fumbled some more, staring at the instructions. Finally, the green light went on and we entered hurriedly.

It was a beautiful room and we stood looking out the window at the rain and lightning. He kissed me again.

“I’m sorry ... I’m not all that used to this.” he said quietly holding my arms and looking into my eyes.

“That’s fine, Brian ... I’m not all that used to it either, but I’m enjoying being with you just the same.”

“Me too.” he said quietly pulling me into his arms again.

“I need a couple minutes, Brian.”

“Oh, sure.” he said. “I’ll go get some ice and you take whatever time...” his voice trailed off. “Just one thing. Please don’t undress ... uh, ... I’d like to undress you ... if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” I reassured him.

I slipped into the bathroom, one of those luxurious jobs with lots of room and lots of shiny gold fittings. My hands were trembling. I looked at myself in the mirror and gasped slightly at what I had done. I looked at the wad of bills and sure enough, $250. I felt guilty about him going to the ATM to get money to buy me. I vowed I would make sure he could afford it or give it back to him.

I sat on the stool and relieved myself, still looking at the wide-eyed girl in the mirror.

“My god! What if he was a cop?” I mouthed quietly. I willed myself to calm down. I assured myself that it would embarrass him immensely if I backed out of the deal now.

“So, I guess I am ... a hooker ... ohmigod!”’ It was an incredible thought.

He knocked on the door. “Are you alright?”

“Yes ... a moment!”

I put my jacket back on and opened the door. He had opened a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses.

“Let me take your coat.” And as he hung it up in the closet, “Could we pretend it’s just a normal date?”

“I’d like that, Brian.”

We sat on one of the two small loveseats next to the window. A coffee table sat between the loveseats. He put his arm around me, and I leaned into the cradle of his arm. He dropped his hand around my shoulder and immediately onto my breast. I felt the nipple crisp under his hand. He squeezed it between finger and thumb through the thin blouse and brassiere.

“Mmmmh” I said quietly as I looked up to kiss his cheek. I was determined that he would get his money’s worth, this sweet guy! I put my hand on his thigh and I felt his cock against the underside of my arm. He shuddered with pleasure. I loved the old dating routine of necking and petting. I assumed that was what he wanted, and I loved the thought of giving it ... My nervousness began to subside a little

We sipped our champagne. The lightning flashed wildly outside, and he slipped his tongue boldly between my lips. I turned and lay across his lap and opened my lips to him. He was beginning in a very gentle manner. While our tongues intertwined, he was fondling my breast firmly, but nicely.

I moaned with pleasure and he continued caressing and squeezing and roaming over the nylon of the blouse as it slipped sensuously over my brassiere and its contents. Lightning bolts were shimmering along my body from my nipples to my pussy and I found myself squeezing my legs together with pleasure.