39 comments/ 36976 views/ 6 favorites Coincidentally By Design By: PayDay Author's Note: This is my story, I wrote it, stealing is lame. If you do not like it, do not read it. Thanks for any feedback, comments, votes or favorites. Hope you enjoy. Disclaimer: This particular fiction story contains adultery, drugs, and may contain terrible, terrible writing among many other things. All characters are eighteen or over if they are naked or sexual. This story has been re-submitted and tweaked for a second chapter that I had not totally intended to write. Coincidentally By Design, Or: Chapter 1 "Never a moment's rest," he said aloud as he ran from the shower, the towel he held barely following along the way as he ran down the hall to the ringing phone. Still dripping, and seeing a number on the ID that he did not recognize, Albert had no choice but to answer. "Hello?" he said with every ounce of question and dripping annoyance that he had. "Uh... Hey, Alby. Um.. What are you doing right now?" "Beulah?" Is everything all right? Are the kids OK?" Albert could not have been more confused or worried. His best friend-and-co-worker's wife was on the phone. Something could be wrong. "Uh, yeah, it's me. Don't get worried, the kids are fine, but it is kind of an emergency though. So what are you doing right this instant?" "Uh," Albert looked around as if he did not know what to say, and then stared at the puddle on the carpet along with the poorly tied towel he still held onto around his waist. "Nothing too terribly important. Just got home from work a little bit ago. Why, what's up, Bee?" "I was wondering if you could let me in?" Beulah almost whispered into her end of the phone. "Let you into where?" Surely she was not at his front door. "Um... your apartment. It's kind of weird standing on the stoop on the phone when I could just speak to you." "Didn't Steven leave on the certification trip this morning?" None of this was making any sense to Albert. "He did, but this is kinds 'bout 'im." Her heavy accent went sheepish. "Uh... I don't think that's a good idea Bee," Albert knew the rules. Never be alone with your friend's wife unless he says it is OK, and especially, never butt into their marriage. "Please..." The sound of desperation was heard in Beulah's voice. "Uh, ok, give me a sec, I guess I'll be right down," Albert's brain was telling of bad ideas and conversations from earlier in the week, but Albert was more concerned with wearing pants in front of his best friend's wife. He was still dripping when he opened the door. Beulah stood on the opposite side of the solid door in all her glory, defeating the late setting sun in the background: She was wearing three inch heels and a short pleated black skirt accompanied by a high riding white tank top without a bra, nor one built in. Her light brown hair was hanging loosely over her shoulders, and she had gotten a tan since the last time they had seen each other at Steven and Beulah's daughter Kaylee's birthday party. Had Albert not been stunned by the sight before him, he would have slammed the door closed; because he was stunned, Beulah pushed past his hanging jaw with a hand on his wet chest and was walking up the stairs before he could react. He cursed himself for not putting a shirt on. "Bee, you shouldn't be here, you have to go-o..." He watched her naked bits below the pleated skirt while he still held the door open at the bottom of the stairs; she was not wearing underwear, and her plump lips were shaved. His mouth was open again. Albert had always been attracted to his co-worker's wife; attracted even before Steven and Beulah were married; attracted back when they were in school together, back when Beulah was Albert's best and only friend. "Don't worry, Ms. Nelson has the kids until Steven gets back. We, you and me, we have to talk, it's important." Beulah had not turned to speak to Albert, instead continuing to walk up the carpeted steps with words over her shoulder. When Beulah turned the corner at the top of the stairs and into his second floor apartment, Albert could swear she stuck out her rump since the pleats of the skirt were forced to twirl behind her body, exposing her crafted stockingless (yup) golden thigh. Albert followed her path slowly; he was trying as hard as he could to remember something that was said in another conversation, but his mind was still blank and thinking only of the perfect naked ass he had just seen bare for the first time. Her rear end was shaped like an upside down heart. By the time Albert had made it to the top of the stairs, Beulah was sitting cross legged on his L-shaped couch, dangling a pump off of the toe of the leg in the front. She must have gone to Albert's fridge, as there were two micro-brews sitting unopened and condensing on the table in front of her. She was lighting a joint as he approached. "This isn't really an emergency, is it?" Albert was serious in his question despite the fuddled brain, and he was unsure if she had brought a purse. "Nope'r." She said, ashing in a nearby houseplant. "Um.. Bee, this is wrong... I mean Steven is my best friend." Albert looked frightened, and her brightening headlights almost froze his body. "...and he's my husband. It's his own fault that I am here, anyway." Beulah said through held breath. Albert suddenly remembered a conversation - the one he thought was important - in full. It was the one that his brain was trying to remind him of. "Oh no. No. Please don't do this." Not her, not this woman, this was wrong, even if it felt right. It was wrong all around, even if he was given permission. He was no longer pacing, instead standing firm and separated from her body by only a glass table. *** "Man, we got in such a fight this weekend." Albert had just finished telling Steven the details of the trip he would be taking on Friday, just before Steven had decided to talk about his personal life. Albert could never understand why Steven would fight with a woman like Beulah, let alone call her 'low class' as Steven often did. It was only by accident that Beulah was back in Albert's life. He had confessed his love to her at their senior graduation; Beulah, in turn, had run away from him at full speed when he had finished speaking. Eight years later, at the company picnic Albert held for his employees, he saw Beulah attached to the arm of his newest hire: Steven, who also just happened to be a great worker and well qualified. "Oh yeah, about what?" Albert was genuinely curious. Starting a profitable company from scratch had taken a chunk out of Albert's ability to have a relationship, running said company made things even worse. Long drives like these let him live vicariously through his employees. Steven, as well, had become a close friend in the two years since he was hired, so Albert was genuinely curious. "Oh the same old bullshit about not having enough romance, and that I never take her out anymore or talk to her. I keep trying to tell her that we're almost in our thirties and that we have kids or that I fuggin' work all day or that we could talk if she stopped yelling, but she doesn't get it." "You're an idiot Steven," Albert said in his head while replying, "That sucks," outwardly to his friend and employee. Then again, Beulah always did pick the winners. Albert had wanted to speak to Beulah about Steven, but their false fronts prevented them from doing so. "Yeah, it does. It got bad, too. She started yelling I was shitty in bed. So you know what I told that bitch?" Steven almost looked proud despite his vulgar words. "What did you say?" "I told her that if I was no good, that she should just go find someone else to fuck, but to lose some weight first." Steven was all pride. "No way..." Albert was appalled, Steven took it as impressed. "Yeah I did. I told her to find someone who would put up with her shit. Otherwise, she should shut her fat fucking mouth." Steven was smiling broadly and Albert was trying not to be angry by reminding himself that people could change. "Wow, man.... What did she do when you said that?" Albert was more curious why Steven would say such things to a woman like Beulah. Albert knew, for a fact, that some women were shaped differently; Stevens taste in women gave Albert the impression that they needed to eat something. Albert's mother, as well as Beulah's own, had tried to feed the skinny tom-boy every time she was in their eyesight. Albert remembered just how boney she was when she was younger; these days Beulah was not overweight: She was tall, and healthy, and she had finally filled out into adulthood: Stacked and soft in all the right places. "Bitch locked herself in the bathroom after yelling at me for fighting loud enough for the kids to hear, like they're going to wake up." Steven began to laugh. "You weren't serious, were you? No, you can't be." Albert shook his head in disbelief for a moment. "You don't think you're asking for trouble? 'Cause I think you are." Albert really wanted to know more, even if it was none of his business. "Man, I don't really care as long as she takes care of my kids. She'll never leave me anyway. She needs me. I told her again yesterday when she all tried to apologize. I said she should start looking for a new piece of ass. No one want's her haggard ass, anyway. Shit, Bertman, You never get laid and you wouldn't even hit that shit." Albert laughed at the absurdity of passing up a chance with Beulah, thinking of body parts to offer up as sacrifice. This laughter, misinterpreted by Steven, only fueled his vulgarity. "Lord knows I will start looking on this trip," Steven slicked back his thinning black hair. "She'll never fucking know cause we never fuck anymore." Steven's confidence was infectious, his illiteration(yup) was carrying plague. "I'm glad you don't deal with the customers." Albert said, still laughing at something completely different. *** "No.No.Noway.Wecan'tdothisBeulah. You have to leave, like right now." He spoke the last measure of his words in his home accent and drawl. Albert really should have put a shirt on, the muscle symphony from his pacing was only agitating her further along; Beulah could feel the humidity from his damp skin, perfectly messy hair, and the moist top of his net shorts hanging from his nonexistent hips though the evening was turning chilly, pre-fall, and dry. The windows were open, and the crisp air was creeping into the warm apartment; it only seemed to act as fuel when it hit Beulah's shoulders, or when it ran through the holes in Albert's shorts. "Oh, so he told you..." Beulah's words carried a second phrase of "fucking figures" silently in tandem with the roll of her eyes. She sighed as she kicked off her heels and stood, taking a few steps to her left, along the rectangle table and towards the shelves. She was running her finger across his collection of albums upon arrival, in search of a specific title naming a thing that he was too young to have purchased new. "Yeah, he.. sortofsaidsomething. Look, he's like my best friend Beulah, we can't do this." "We were best friends once..." she was ignoring him, heightening the effect of the unsaid, while offering him the joint. When he didn't take it, she hung it from her lips and bent over to start the record meticulously. Not a scratch was heard as static and the sight of her unclad cheeks filled the air. Despite the view, her words stung, and they brought Albert back to another time. This conversation was going to happen now, even if he wanted her to go before he made a bad choice. " 'fuck." He reacted late as her words finally stuck too deep. Albert sat - fell - diagonally across from her retaken seat on the L, and took the J from her, hitting it with the remainder of the alphabet. Reggatta De Blanc, his favorite album, had begun to play, acting as the trigger. The songs always calmed him down and made him feel better. These two individuals had not been alone since the day Albert told Beulah he loved her. Until that day, they were inseparable; they had, literally, hung out every day of their conscious lives. The classy word still hung over the sound of the record playing at the perfect volume When she softly fell back into the couch, she took in the sight of her husband's best friend: Shirtless, damp, tense, conflicted, and well defined. Beulah took the time to open the slick beer bottles upon the glass table with her disposable lighter; she took a sip of her own beer, sitting it in her lap rather than placing it on the table next to his. Albert had always been a worker, and a swimmer, even when they were younger and merely separated by a farm field in a remote 'hick' town. The sight of his features showed her the value. "Why did you run away from me." Albert passed her back the remainder of the illicit substance, and snagged his beer from the table. This may have been his best friend's wife, but he deserved an answer, even if he was staring at her legs. "Alby honey..." Beulah was the only person to call him Ably, a name he had not heard in a long time, especially not in front of Steven - whom knew none of this history. "You weren't the first boy to say you loved me, ya' know? What was I supposed to do? I was young, but I knew I would hold you back. I'm not smart like you, you were going places. Look at you now." "So were you." Albert said without hesitation. "None of that stuff is true, Bee. It wouldn't matter if it was. You could have come with me." "You're the only one who ever said so..." Only the music was heard for a time. "Richie Hinkley was the first one to say he loved you." Albert had interrupted the silence of the music. "I remember. You told me that same night, on the dock on your momma's pond. Remember? We were looking at that book of constellations." The two sat in silence again, both sitting back and holding cold tinted glass. "You could have just believed me, I never lied to you. I was never like that dirt bag Richie, or those pigs Rudolph and David." Albert stood and turned off the record at the end of the first side, but just before the automatic player reset, sitting back down when he was finished. He only smiled at her confused glance before he picked up a remote from the end table and hit a primary button. The corner of the room, opposite the record player, lit up, and a moment later Albert was pressing new buttons with a level of finesse that implied knowledge. The B side of the same album began to play and Albert set down the remote, smiling. "Nerd," Beulah threw out, grinning. "Only you would know," he said in throwback and continuing with "yokel," using their old joke. "It'll go on random after this, too." "My Momma did always like you, Grammy too." Beulah looked at the cool bottle in between her legs as she spoke. "I heard about your momma... I'm sorry Bee Lah... How is she doin'?" Albert did always like Beulah's mother, not to mention she made the best pound cake in the world and deserved recognition for it. "Thanks. She's.. uh.. We sold her house. She's on hospice for the past month... not long." Beulah's words dwarfed the look on her face; a look Albert had forgotten that he missed. "She always did say: 'Nobody gets out alive.' " "You could have listened to her." Albert uttered with longing, smiling in retrospect and agreement to her mother's favorite quote. "Well, by the time I figured that out, I was pregnant. Then Steven and I got married. I never thought I would see you again..." The two were silent for a passing instant before Beulah resumed. "I always knew you would be successful, I just didn't think you would end up here. I mean we are so far from home..." Beulah's look was wistful and longing to say the least. "Me neither... I thought you didn't recognize me at Steven's first picnic." "I was hoping you wouldn't recognize me. Ohmy, then you and Steven got along so well..." she actually batted her hand in his direction while she spoke; Albert so missed the Southern Belles, just being around her was bringing his lost accent back more and more. "I was going to tell him about us." Albert looked guilty; he felt guilty. "Then why didn't you?" Beulah suddenly appeared as he always remembered her; as he had not seen in so long: Alive, and perky, and ready to cause trouble. He had forgotten how it felt to be alone with her. As much as he had inflated her charms in his memories, they were still sub-par to the real deal. "I.. uh.. Look, Bee, you have to go." Albert had missed her, yet he was feeling as if only yesterday they were shoulder to shoulder counting stars. He had especially missed this part of her: The part made for best friends and lovers; despite this, he was still unprepared for her boldness; he had been unprepared for her attitude in his youth, a thing she would quickly exploit in those days; all these years later and she was no different. "...but you didn't, did you?" Her words and accent hung in the Northern air; it felt like hours before she spoke again, but Albert's hair was still crisp when she began to repeat herself. "Why didn't you?" Beulah stood, cocking her head to the side while simultaneously slipping a thumb into the waistband of her skirt, and moving the other into the bottom of her shirt, exposing her belly button and lightened C scars as she settled with one hip up. She was fit and beautiful, all curves and thick; shadows of muscles across her stomach, arms, shoulders, and thighs mapped creation's plan for her shape. Beulah had grown up, she had started eating, and she had been working out. Their mothers would be proud of her posture and form. "I.. uh.." Albert was looking at his lap, trying not to stare at her, absently turning his head side to side. Her breasts were twice the size he remembered, and he could see her large nipples, exactly as he remembered. It was ten years since he took anything but an obscure glance of her. "You still love me, don't you?" Beulah had a look of concern on her face when she asked, but still stood sexy with one hip up and a thumb sliding side to side under the waistband while the other thumb sat still. "I.. uh.." Albert was still looking at his lap, still trying not to stare at her, and still absently turning his head side to side, slowly. Beulah began to sway her hips to snake charm the motion of his head, falling in time with his movement. One of her exposed hips continually stopped higher than the other before changing direction, slowly turning his pace into her own. Her magic was working. "Steven doesn't love me anymore. He hasn't loved me for fifteen minutes of the last two years." She began moving both of her thumbs under the waistband of her skirt, pushing it dangerously lower with each pass. "Bee Lah.. I.. uh.. togo.." Albert set his bottle down and looked as if he were about to stand up and leave his own home, even if he was staring at her, and even if his head was still moving to and fro, but to her specifications. He was enthralled, he could not move his body to the will of his racing thoughts; Beulah took immediate advantage, her speed surprised and returned him back into his seat. Before Albert knew what had happened, his head was against the cushion of the couch and each of Beulah's hands were on his respective thighs; the cute nose built for her face was nearly touching his own: Her mother had the same nose, Kaylee as well. "My husband gave us permission, you know, and I want it to be you, Alby." Beulah's eyes were flashing behind their light blue rings. "I know you're alone, I know you're clean, and I know you're a good man." Beulah was looking right into his eyes, yet Albert could only see her ample cleavage within the loosely hanging top and her small eraser nipples encircled by tiny bumps. Coincidentally By Design Ch. 02 Author's Note: This is my story, I wrote it, stealing is lame. If you don't like it, don't read it. Thanks for any comments, votes, feedback, or favorites. This second chapter is by request; this is the end (I swear, but not really). Hope you enjoy: * The memory of one of Steven's hate filled attacks cut her mind against Albert's wild twisting of her heaven pointed nipples: "Well if you tried some 'reverse-cowgirl' shit, I might go for you more." Beulah cried out in pleasure and laughter, almost sobbing. Albert had made this kink happen; Albert had never asked, he just knew what to do to her to make the positions feel right; he was blowing her mind. Beulah's ass was continually repelled skyward from his hips, Albert almost throwing Beulah's thighs into the air and letting gravity bring her down on his shaft. His thumbs balanced the weight of her body, on her back, against his palms, while at least two of the fingers of each hand worked on her chest. Using the strength in his wrists, he played puppeteer on the angles of her body. The grip on his member was intense and dripping; Albert could only thank his luck for pleasuring himself in the shower, or he would have surely lost himself already. Her body wracked and shook with tension from her near climax. The sensations were far too much to contain on her back, urging Beulah to push her shape against his hips and hands, forcefully sitting up to grasp the situation. Albert followed her, grabbing her ankles and pulling them past his sides while deftly holding on. When Beulah fell to her hands and knees from his action, her shivering and sweaty body instinctively rode his lap wetly through orgasm. Her heat only seemed to increase, setting her free and into her second wind. Beulah kicked free of his hands, pushing forward on the bed with a hop, still coming down, while pulling his manhood free and swirling her shining ass in a tease. Albert, needing no instruction whatsoever, scooted up on to his knees, holding himself with a fist to aim and enter her slick embrace. He planted a firm slap on the slick and shining globe with his free hand only moments before diving in. "Alby..." came the cry of the sexily embarrassed voice; she had enjoyed the smack too much for her own conscience. Beulah thrust at his targeting; taking the lead and pushing back with her hands, resulting in endless sweaty slapping sounds to soft background music from the other room. Albert was on edge, bound to lose his load in seconds from her style. *** This was supposed to be Gerald's night off, but instead he stood, foot tapping, waiting for the elevator from the fifth floor. If he had never taken the hotel suite package with his pay, he would not be in reach of security, and he would not have to deal with this crap at just over a(n) hour before midnight. At least the police were on their way, and the man at the monitor desk was already making the tape with the correct audio. All Gerald had to do now was stop the prostitute, and tell the cops where the john lay. Gerald had not counted on the hooker being quite so flexible, pliable, nor limber in her hasty escape. The woman of the night was stumbling out of the side door by the time the cruiser pulled up out front. "She got away," was all he had to utter to the nodding and smirking officers as he led them to the fifth. *** "Do you feel guilty?" Albert was the first to speak, and both were still naked and dripping. He lay on the bed at an angle, splitting the mattress into two isosceles; he used his right forearm behind his head - since the pillow was long gone - and daintily rubbed Beulah's back using his left. "Ah do." Beulah lay sprawled on her stomach in the center of the bed, hips on top of Albert's lap, and twisted to stare his way with her face half covered by the blanket. Half of her mouth and face squished while she spoke into the bed. "More than you thought?" Albert steadily tickled her back with his finger tips, occasionally palming her round backside and massaging the back of her neck. "Less." The mumble held sadness and clarity; Beulah had been thinking of her husband and waiting for Albert to speak. He stopped his hand on the small of her back with fingers dipping into the curve, building up his speaking voice, and sitting slightly up to stare at her. "You first," Beulah interrupted him, teasing from nowhere with and adjusted head and a devilish grin. "Fine, but answer me this: Did you come here to just fuck me and then go home pretending like it never happened?" Albert looked stern. "In th' beginnin'?" She didn't move. He nodded. "Yes." "Did you care about the consequences, at all?" Albert was more curious than angry, things had obviously changed. "Not after you opened the door.. I forgot whatchu were like up close. Boyyou've grownup." The last part came from her lips in a whisper. "You too." Albert spoke as he lay back down on his arm. "...but you don't feel diff'rent." "Neither d'you." Beulah rolled to his left side as he settled; straddling his thigh and holding his chest, while smushing her own breasts and bent right arm. "So why are you lookin' all guilty?" "Steven is my best friend, Bee Lah." Albert was eyes at the ceiling, studying the finish and not seeing a thing. "He's you're employee," she was speaking into his nipple using the hottest possible breath. "He's still my friend, and I owe him for the things he's done. I am guilty, even if I don't feel it." *** "So why are you single, Bert? What's up? Some chick give you a STD or su'umn?" The level of danger and the altitude did not seem to bother Steven; he was chit-chatting through the speeding crosswinds. "No, nothing like that." Albert - glad for the OSHA safety and tie down lines - continued to toil with the pressure valve at the top of the tank, only slightly nervous for caution's sake. "Then what? Broken heart? Man you gotta get over that shit and go get laid and be happy. Just don't get hitched." Steven, never missing a beat, continued to assist without interfering in the least. He could work and talk while making the job seem easier. "No..." Albert wanted to tell him about the girl from his youth, he chicken out; Steven had not worked for Albert for very long, it seemed too personal. "No, she was a good one. I would marry her if I found her..." Albert stopped wrenching for a pause, staring off into the distance; just as quickly he resumed his effort. "I can see that," Steven was speaking through a laugh. "What are you going to do if she's already married? What if you had to steal her?" Steven spoke before diving right in to clean the mating surface of the tank as Albert removed the worn valve. "I don't know. I've been with another woman, but.. it's not the same...." Albert began to disassemble to old valve for a refit, tying his secondary line to it's weight for stabilization. "Only two?" Steven Laughed. "Well I wouldn't worry about it man. Even if you don't get some other pussy, all you gotta do it wait." Steven only looked up for a moment before resuming his task. "Why's that?" Albert stopped, curious at the statement despite the rising wind, and thinking mostly about connecting a third line just to be safe. " 'Cause if it's anything like my marriage, it'll be over in a few years." Steven said as the gust hit with a massive intensity. Albert's primary safety line snapped as the massive valve fell over and his body was flung towards to edge that owed no railing. Steven, oblivious to the falling tools, dove, catching the valve before it pulled Albert down and catching Albert's wrist the instant before he and the valve almost tumbled over the edge to fall twenty stories: Steven clicked his second line to his boss's belt within a second, well before Albert had opened his eyes. *** The thumping in his head made him feel sick. It would stop and then start again; four continuous but intermittent beats. Steven realized someone was beating on the door and not his head by the fourth instance of it's interruption. While he rolled over, and placed a hand on his head, the door clicked and opened, blaring in the hallway lighting along with two alien floating beams. "Keep your hands up and don't move." The voice of god was loud and pounding his ears; god had brought along the brightest pair of his glimmering chorus to be shown upon Steven's face and naked body. By the time Steven figured out that they were police officers, they were already searching his pants in the lit room, flashlights still on. "Um.. What's goin-" Steven was unable to finish. "What do we have here?" The officer, standing in the door, highlighted the smallest of lime green baggies with his flashlight; one full of an obviously white powder. Gerald, standing in the well lit hallway, started to shake his head to an odd ticking noise. The wallet thief, who unknowingly stole a wedding ring, was also quite clumsy. *** "He's still not ans'rin his phone, he must be sleepin'." Beulah was climbing onto the hammock to join Albert on the un-lit second story deck. She had brought two fresh bottles to go along with the cool evening. Albert clinked her drink when she settled into place at his side. The pair lay silently, occasionally imbibing, naked and swinging slowly. In coupling they counted the stars with their bodies pressed together; a lovers' constellation. Beulah lay on his bent arm, his head on the hand of the same. She was slightly turned, holding her beer with her left as she lay on his left, slowly fingering the muscles of his upper body - beer in hand. Ever so slowly, she began to point into the unpolluted glowing of the sky. "Which star is that?" It was a particularly shimmering dot, slightly alone, but not really. Albert craned his neck to follow the angle of her outstretched arm. "Keep looking, it's not a star," Albert said followed by a long sip. "It's not?" "What color is it?" Albert looked down upon her studying face, barely lit from a light far off inside his home. "It looks.. pink? It's red... Ohmy," she started laughing, placing her hand on her own chest for support. "Is it Mah-rs?" Albert nodded his head in reply, smiling at the classic mistake. "So what's making you feel guilty?" Albert had waited for her giggles to subside, for her to take a sip, and for her to become re-lost in the sky. "I don't feel guilty, I am guilty." Beulah said, quite serious and using his words. "What do you mean?" He knew what she meant, but Albert wanted to hear it. "He's the father of my two babies, Alby, and I don't give no shit about 'im anymore. He's changed, an' I committed adultery 'cause of it." "Has he? He's been foul-mouthed since I met him, that doesn't change who he is." "Well he never swore at me, not until recently. He means what he says ta me, he's tryin' ta hurt me." She sipped her beer in the insect free silence, pausing for a time after. "He use ta love me, but he never loved me like you did. Ev'ah... I'm guilty because Ah don't feel guilty. Ahm to th' point that I'd leave him in jail if he were 'rested. That makes me a bad wife." Albert laughed at her statement. "Steven? No way.. No way. He talks a big game, but he's not the type. I don't think he's ever been in a fight in his life, let alone arrested." "Ah think that's the prob'm," Beulah said quietly, contemplating. "I should be the one to tell him..." Albert seemed sullen, dowsing the quiet that stayed after she spoke. "We'll both tell him, at the same time, Alby." Her words brought unspoken agreement. They lay, swinging on the hammock in their nudity, with Beulah casually continuing to touch his body. "I'd get the telescope and show you Mars, but I'm enjoying this too much, even if it doesn't last." Albert had closed his eyes. "Ah can tell," she mumbled, gripping his growing member. It wasn't two strokes before Beulah's cell phone, nearby on the wooden railing, started to ring. They both froze for a second, Beulah snapping out of it at the third ring, answering directly after. "Hay," she said into the phone, knowing Steven's number. "Somebody call for Jocelynita? Yous looking to party?" The voice on the other end of the phone oozed street level trashy, and it sounded nothing like Steven. *** Rocky - her dealer whom was slowly becoming her pimp - had paid her in contraband for the two no limit corporates; he gave her cash for the ID, Social Security, and Platinum cards from the wallet; not to mention he gave her some more work - away from the corners - for the cellular codes. He let her keep the phone, to her surprise; he even showed her how to use it and he gave her a charger. Jecelynita currently held more money and drugs than she ever had in her life, but she was still blowing the manager of the upscale hotel for a reduced room rate. She would soon fuck the desk clerk for room service and complimentary champagne. She was not an unattractive woman, just tired, worn, and illiterate. *** The cops, real jerks if you had asked Steven and most of the other individuals locked up, led him down the cell corridor to loud whistle not unlike construction workers; all of the cells were along the same wall and separated by concrete. Steven, red, slightly chubby, and only wearing his boxers, suddenly regretted every wolf call of his life as hands reached out of the bars and men laughed away in chorus. "Don't I get a phone call?" He said while the cops pushed him into the nearly empty cell, the last at the end of the long row. "Sure, solicitor," the police officer was pointing, with a nightstick, to a pay phone on the wall of the cell with the shortest cord possible. "You won't be processed until Monday anyway, pal, 'cause you ain't got no paperwork." "I don't have any quarters, man," Steven said, placing his hands on the freshly closed cell bars. "Are you married, solicitor?" The officer had put away his staff, leaning back on the opposing wall next to his partner, both cops with arms crossed. "Yeah...?" Steven was only confused at the question. "Then neither one of us are going to give any change. Pieces of shit like you give the rest of us husbands a bad name," he said, moving a thumb from himself to his partner and back again. The two decorated officers, laughing, walked from the cell hallway to the yells from other prisoners in lock-up; one of the two threw out "Hope you used a condom, asshole!" over their shoulder as they went through the door to the station. Steven, suddenly hopeless, smacked his head against the bars in an effort to stir his thoughts. He couldn't try Beulah, her cell phone would not take a collect call, and this would be just the excuse she needed. "Call the bat-phone!" Steven yelled aloud. "That's it!" The red phone, the emergency phone for work automatically routed to Albert's house number. Albert would help; Albert would keep his mouth shut, even if he did get pissed. The automated voice on the bat-phone offering the menu would not accept a collect call. "FUCK! fuck!fuck! fuck! fuck! fuckityfuckfuck!" Steven yelled, hopping in place and stomping his bare feet against the sticky floor. His man breasts were jiggling, and his boxers could barely contain his flopping dick. "FUUUUUCK! I hate the fuckin' future!" "Hey, sugah... calm down and relax," came the deep burly voice from the only other person in the nearly empty cell. "Is somethinthematta?" came further words from the bed in the corner opposite the toilet, farthest away from the door. "You have no fuckin' idea..." Steven stared longingly at the phone, feeling much like he were about to cry and slightly cold from the chilly drafts of the underground concrete construction. He started rubbing his own arms to stave the nips. "Well, if you need some change for the phone.." the overly well built man sat up on his cot, arching up to grab the upper bunk and flex more than he should have been able, "..then I got it right over here, baby." The voice was more felt than heard; the man was easily twice the size of the newcomer. Every hair on Steven's body stood tingling while the massive man began to rub himself in the wrong place; it had to be near midnight. *** Jecelynita spit out her tainted gum onto the carpet while sliding the card into the door for access. The lights were on, her shoes were off, and the contents of her purse were dumped on the bed by the time the door to the posh hotel room closed. She scanned the space, smiling at the two bow wrapped baskets and the chilling champagne, while separating out her make-up from her drugs from her money. She flipped open the stolen billfold, slowly checking every slot for any thing of value left over. She stared at the pictures in one hand while spinning the white gold band in her other. The pictures, three in all, held a beautiful wife, two beautiful girls, and the smiling husband Jocelynita had fucked before robbing. She understood the subtle look to the wife's face despite the innocence of the children; both women knew what Steven was made of, even if the wallet held near a thousand dollars - pay day scores were great, men on business trips were better. Jocelynita was scrubbing herself and crying in the shower when her new cell phone started to ring for the first time. It was ringing for the third time while she was drying her hair. With the towel still in hand and rubbing her head furiously, she looked down at the glowing words 'Missed Call: Strifey' but remembered only: "I'll start giving out the number for you, just hit this button if you miss a call," uttered earlier from Rocky. The letter characters made much less sense than Rocky's words. *** "Bitch I don't know yo husban!" came the earpiece. "Put Steven on th' phone now!" Beulah was beyond pissed and confused, ready to flip out for real compared to her simply loud words. Albert, though, was momentarily distracted from the confusion by the sound of the ringing bat-phone in the nearby, and attached, kitchen. The bat-phone, his emergency/weekend work phone, only rang in such cases as emergencies. After leaving the yelling Beulah on the hammock, and while he reached for the phone on the wall - still naked - he prayed to all things holy that Steven was not on the other end of the line. "OH FUCK YES!" came Steven's voice yelling through the phone after Albert said the proper business hello. "Thank god.. thank god!" Steven sounded very much like he was crying. This conversation was going to happen, here, now, whether he wanted it to or not; Albert's face locked sight to the equally matched and gazing Beulah's just as Jocelynita hung up the phone in her ear. Coincidentally By Design Her uncovered posterior was still swaying as she whispered: "I need this, Alby..." "We can't... I.. We.." Albert used the remainder of his fading willpower to avoid her gaze and revealingly clothed flesh. He would run fresh out of self control when she finished speaking. "You've been waiting, haven't you? ...please.. ..forgive a silly little girl, Alby. You've always been my best friend, my only friend." Her words froze his movement and they began to kiss. Albert deftly grasp both sides of her face and pulled her into his lap when their barely touching skin turned to bumps and tingles; they shared tongues and breath as she settled into place. Her heat was intense, and the tickling sensations from her hair on his shoulders only made him rise more quickly to the occasion. *** "Ew... Creep!" The buxom blonde was yelling as she walked away from the fresh drink she refused to let Steven buy. "Your loss, lesbian," Steven said to the young woman, though in actuality, only to himself as he slid her drink over while downing his own with a noisy gulp. The thoughts in his head could attune only to 'I'm so money' as he reveled in the time away from his balls and chains.(ha) Those thoughts were interrupted as a tall and statuesque raven haired business professional walked up to the hotel bartender. "No wife, no kids, perdiem, and pussy everywhere," Steven said loud enough for some of the other patrons to hear while he walked towards the snooty looking model of a woman that he would surely insult; but not before sucking in his gut, slicking back his thinning hair, and grabbing the free drink. *** Beulah wasted no time moving Albert's slightly rough though clean hands from her face to her thighs. She had always thought it was exaggerating, but it tuned out that Beulah's Grandmother was right: Beulah was feeling sparks shoot through her whole body, sparks that drugs do not provide. It wasn't an instant after Albert's hands had hit Beulah's thighs that his right thumb was slick and rubbing against her clit. His other hand - the left - quickly slid up her thigh, taking one side of the skirt with it, cupping her breast underneath the tank. He held her skirt high, exposing her shaved and glistening apex that he was still unable to see due to their electric embrace. By the time he felt the bottom back of her attire tickling his bare knees just past his shorts, he had already begun to spin her right nipple between cloth-padded fingertips. The music in the background became inaudible to their senses as the lovers only heard slight wet sounds and heavy mixed breathing. There was love here. She felt herself gush from the ministrations of his right thumb, the action triggering her hips to ride his lap, as if he knew the button. All the while, the pair never ended the make-out session. The intensity of their passion was making her feel guilty; Albert's grip on her chest was going to leave bruises, and she would surely leave marks as well; the more she thought about marks on skin, and of being caught at something that should have happened years ago - doing something right - the closer to climax she ventured. *** "I'm sorry sir, you'll have to leave," ran through his head as he lay upon the hotel bed. "Asshole," Steven thought to himself as he sat up and gripped the glass holding his last drink, finishing it in a hurry. He set the glass down, sighed, and looked at the clock. It took him a moment to read 9:00 PM before he shrugged, and picked up his cell phone. The call was answered by his wife's voice, but recorded, Steven had hit voicemail. "Hey, babe, just checking in, you're probably putting the kids to bed or something. So, uh, call you tomorrow. Love you," was the voicemail Steven left promptly after the beep, selecting 'Barely Legal' from the pornography menu of the hotel cable system shortly after hanging up. *** Her orgasm hit when she felt the pulses of his ejaculation; mostly it was the thoughts of making him orgasm in his pants, and that she was still sexual, still attractive. Before he had released, her bare pussy was doing a thorough job of gripping the underside of his shaft through his thin shorts. The throbs of his thick muscles, during his climax, had forced her to break their embrace, allowing her to grip further and harder. Beulah pulled back on his lap, his thumb still holding her skirt high, allowing his face to watch the other thumb rubbing on her point. Albert had released her nipple with his left hand, instead using it to pull her into his hips, from the back - from the top - of her shoulder after tucking the skirt into itself. His fingers would imprint the skin of her collarbone as she genuinely moaned in a degree made for smutty films, while at the same time palming her own chest beneath her tank with both hands. Even after his fruition, Albert continued to push himself into her lips and move their bodies in time, and if anything: he became more erect as they continued making love with their clothes on. It was that thought, the clothes, which made Beulah break his grip and leap from his lap, causing his near chagrin. It was 'near' only because Beulah stripped off her top, stepped out of her skirt, and was on her knees pulling off his shorts before he could react further. "O-oh my," Beulah said as his mess filled shorts moved to the floor, Beulah was stopping the fabric around his ankles while her head hovered above his manhood Within less than a breath, she was running her hand all around and through his juices. His cock lurched to her presence. "This is wrong..." Albert was offering a last chance gesture; he no longer looked guilty as her hand traveled his length with twisting skill. "I know it is, Alby," she left those words to fill his mind with their frankness while she deftly engulfed his head, followed slowly by the remainder - slowly she went, all the way down to the base - where she stopped for a clear second before sliding him from her throat and letting out a gasping breath. So far, the things she was doing he had only seen in porn. She used her hand on him for a time, mouth open and mewing as she memorized the view of the piece of meat before her, shortly after looking up into his mesmerized face, memorizing that as well. She had been cupping her heavy breasts - given to her for her motherhood and still hanging high - using her free right hand and tickling her nipples slowly, but she moved the hand to her wetness when she continued her oral skills, occasionally bringing it back up to tickle his hanging soldiers. Albert's hands moved to her hair, the natural blonde streaks - along with the light brown majority - intertwining in his fingers as he lightly - but aggressively - pulled her hair into the grip of only his left hand, jerking her head up and back. The spit trailed from his lap to her bottom lip, nearly a foot away, before he kissed her with his right hand caressing her face. Beulah uttered "Alby sugah.." with a smile as he softly forced her back to task, not at all forcing her; she was not looking at his face while she spoke, and they were both soon wetter than when she started. Albert was still feeling guilty, but only guilty at not feeling at all guilty anymore. "All in is all in," he whispered aloud when Beulah began to run her thumb in circles just above his sack. Beulah heard him, but made no attempt to stop until he said: "Stand up, Bee Lah." He scooped up her body in his arms while he was in the action of standing, easier than she had suspected possible and totally unexpectedly; all of it causing her to squeal. He could feel the juices that had run down her legs slickly coating along his right arm with spit visibly glistening on her chest and chin. "We're going to my bed now." He said in a low voice. He turned to walk; her left hand hit his chest as she kissed and sucked his neck, feeling his back with the other hand and moving her mouth step by step towards his ear. Beulah whispered, "Hurry," with hot breath in Albert's ear when her mouth arrived at his trim sideburn, nibbling his lobe shortly after. No attempt was made to pick up the pile of clothes, and a light was already on in his bedroom, down the hall, at the other side of the top of the stairs. As easily as he had carried her, the ease at which he threw her onto his bed was greater. Beulah screamed as she flew through the air, landing on her butt and bouncing, and in turn landing on her butt and elbows, legs spread, knees in the air, and feet at the foot of the bed. "Alby..." Beulah turned splotchy flustered red, embarrassed at how much she enjoyed the rag doll routine. He only smiled in reply, enjoying his first full view of her primed naked glory before he dove between her legs, sliding his hands up the back of her thighs and placing the underside of her knees on his shoulders. Albert wasted no time drinking her up, amazed at how her thighs clamped on his head with a ferocity he did not expect. Beulah shivered and squirted hard for the second time of the evening when he inserted a finger to work with his masterful tongue. This was all despite the fact that Albert had only done this once before in his life. Before Beulah knew what was happening, because she was still in orgasm, Albert was pulling her along the comforter in crackling static. When she opened her eyes, her knees were still on his shoulders, her ass slightly lifted from the bed, and his body was lined up to the opening of her womanhood. Albert's hazel eyes flared as he stared into her soul, holding her thighs against his chest with strong hands; Albert stood at the ready with his feet on the floor. "Do it," Beulah grasp her tits hard in preparation of his thrust. Her preparation was not enough, and a scream rang out in his second floor apartment of the rental he owned. He would have been thinking "thank god there are no tenants" had he not been overwhelmed with pleasure. *** Steven was out, and snoring, three-hundred miles from home. Not an hour ago, he had been pacing the room, drunk and agitated that he could not rub one out to twenty dollar porn. Shortly after, he had glanced out of the curtain above the air conditioner, as if that would satisfy him. Out of nowhere, he huffed, snorted, and grumbled in his sleep, almost rolling over and scaring the shit out of the prostitute pulling the wallet from his jeans placed on the floor. When he snored once more in series, she let out her held breath. Slowly crept from the hotel room, sniffing the last of a baggie. Halfway down the hall she was dialing her dealer on her 'new' cell phone. *** Albert was longer and thicker than her husband - and her toy. He effortlessly hit new places in her canal with each stroke. Beulah was in no condition to comment, as she had forgotten how to breathe when crying out, or how to see past stars. "Beulah?" came in the hollow syllables of a record playing too slow. Again she heard her name, clearer this time. She decided to answer. "Mm-Hmm?" Beulah's eyes were closed, but her brow still went up for the question. "Are you ok?" Albert asked, his voice was full of concern. "Why wouldn't I be?" She had opened her eyes; she was confused at his concern; she was confused at why he was no longer inside her; she was confused how she had been slid up the bed, no longer on the edge. Beulah was most concerned why his hand was on her forehead; for good measure, her hand reached out for the safety of, and took a hold of, his erection. "Um.. I don't.. I.. Ithinkyoupassedout..." Albert was now the flustered one, whispering and red. His left hand held no embarrassment though, as he had slowly begun to move it along her body, copping feels instead of feeling her forehead. "Did I now?" She began to slide her hand slowly up and down his shaft as she rolled slightly, as if to spoon, but not before rubbing his head across her wet lips in the same motion, and sliding Albert's cock back inside. "There it is," she whispered to the sensation, the words causing him to push the extra bit deeper at the end of the thrust. "Yeah, I think you did," he softly spoke through clenched teeth, moving the arm under his head to around her right side; both of his hands now clamping a breast, their size and firm feel were just outside of the range of his grip. For a time they stayed that way; Beulah was slowly circling her hips, rising up and tensing her already tight stomach as she went in time with his hips pulling away. Albert was breathing softly into her ear at first, kissing the back of her neck and using the tip of his tongue to circle her lobe. ...but it was not long before he began to tease her nipples like he was being instructed while whispering sweet everythings(yup) into her mind. "I missed you, Bee Lah," the words ended with a soft bite of her neck, his hands moving from her chest to the top of her shoulders. Even as he slid out of her, he still stayed deep. "..I missed you too..." she whispered softly, teary and almost crying. Beulah put her right hand wildly on her left breast, around his forearms, and her left hand on the hard muscles of his hip, butt, and thigh - often smacking. She began pulling him in at the exact speed he was already going. "We have to tell him..." He spoke quietly. With his hands on her shoulders, Albert was able to pull her down onto his already extended thrusts, causing her to moan slightly over the sounds of lovemaking with each extra expanse. "..about.. uhn.. which thing..." She was losing it; Beulah was seemingly angry at her left nipple while yet another climax approached with quickness. "We have to tell him that you love me." When he finished speaking, it was in time with his strongest upward thrust of the evening. He gripped her shoulders with intensity, pulling her into his body on the threshold of pain and thrusting his hips just as hard. When he was fully in, Albert rolled their bodies, putting her on top and in a position that was new to them both. She managed to speak - almost gurgling - "I know we do!" before they harmonized their voices in the sensation of her riding his hips through her orgasm.