Freakin’ with the Enemy Ch. 04
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“I thought we agreed..no phone calls,” Darlene Craft whispered with bewilderment into her cell phone’s receiver.
“I know,” the somewhat sleepy but satisfied voice of Denny Pinson rose from the other end.
“Just wanted to see if you saw the morning paper yet..horrible to see the types of things our youth are involved in,” he added wryly.
“Yes..I saw it,” Darlene relented somewhat, the clear joy in her soul difficult to mask despite the unexpectedness of the call.
“I’ll see you in a few days..next time you show up here at Loughlin..right?” Denny asked, knowing he wasn’t really giving Darlene any choice in the matter.
“Yes,” she replied. “I’ve got to go.”
“Good morning, Danielle,” Darlene said to her middle Daughter, who was making her way down the hall towards the kitchen.
Stuffing her cell phone deep down inside her purse, Darlene took several quick breaths to collect herself.
“Oatmeal again?” Danielle groused when she saw what was on the table.
“Either that or eating breakfast at school with all the riff-raff,” Darlene quickly transformed into ‘Motherly Bitch’ mode.
A few seconds later Curt Craft came marching down the hall, still tying his tie as he kissed his Daughter on the top of the head.
Carrying over a gallon of orange juice, Darlene kept one eye glued on her Husband as he sat down, just waiting for the moment he recognized the glaring picture on the front page of the paper laying by his oatmeal bowl.
Darlene practically had to keep from pouring the orange juice all over the table, not to mention her Husband’s lap as she watched the expression on his face change when he recognized Angie’s picture. Seeing that look transform through several different stages, from recognition, to rabid curiosity finally to mortal shock as he matched the photos to the article, Darlene literally had to take step back towards the kitchen to keep from cackling out loud.
“That’s the Burton’s oldest Daughter, Angela, isn’t it?” Curt gasped, pushing the newspaper towards Danielle so she could read it too.
“Yeah..like you don’t know who the Hell she is,” Darlene bit her tongue and mumbled to herself. “The Bitch rode you like a rented mule on top of Old Man Carter’s Mercedes a few weeks back.”
“Drugs?” Curt re-read the first few paragraphs of the article several more times, trying to make some genuine sense of it all. “That family has plenty of money….she was almost Miss Colorado for God sakes..how could someone with so much to lose…?”
“Oh..you know what can happen when someone falls in with the wrong crowd…her parents must be devastated,” Darlene turned and offered with real, heartfelt concern, at least audibly.
The remainder of breakfast basically consisted of Danielle and her Father passing the paper back and forth as they pretty much shunned Darlene’s dreadful oatmeal. It was clear once the formalities were done however that Curt was anxious to get to work, and Danielle to school, so they could each tap into the neighborhood grapevine and get the lowdown on Angie Burton’s arrest.
The facts of Angie’s case, and the extravagant embellishments over the nature of it quickly blurred. The one thing that did surprise even someone as cynical as Darlene was the level of schadenfreude that came from a lot of her friends over Angie’s plight. In a sick way, Darlene felt heartened seeing the amount of satisfaction a lot of people took in the young girl’s seeming downfall. She knew she wasn’t the only one who’d been turned off by Angie and her accomplishments, but she’d caught the girl fucking her Husband. Darlene couldn’t help but think maybe some of those other catty women in the community may have too.
Then there’d been the added touch for Denny to place the package so that the cops would catch Angie with it on school grounds. She couldn’t wait to hear how the details of all that came about even though in the back of her mind she was still understandably reticent to know all the details in the off chance that all of this blew back on her.
For obvious reasons, it was clear the Burtons and their kids weren’t keeping their same social calendar. Darlene would often drive by their house, and instead of the usual 2 or 3 cars there visiting, she hardly saw a single guest in their driveway after the news broke. For what its worth, Darlene did resist the urge to pull in and check on them herself.
With the wherewithal to afford the best defense money could buy, the case against Angie did have some holes. The fact that she left her car unlocked played in her favor considering how easy it would have been to sneak into the back seat to place the pills under the right rear floor mat and the bag of pot under the seat. There was also an absence of any fingerprints whatsoever on any of the packaging, which was very rare.
Combine that with the altercation she’d had the night before the contraband was discovered with a guy at a bar who’d repeatedly tried coming on to her before he got his lights punched out by a nameless stranger. The guy who’d been pursuing bahis firmaları her, as fate would have it, had two prior arrests while at C.U. for possession.
All that combined with Angie’s spotless record and how poised and confident she would be at trial, and it was difficult imagining any jury finding unison in convicting her for such a horribly long sentence.
As much fun as it had all been for Darlene, the giddiness of it all started to wear off when those reports started to make their way into the paper. Still, the shocking nature of that first headline would stay with people, the bell had in essence been rung, and even if Angie would be cleared, in this digital age, the arrest would always be a stain on her legacy.
Now came time for Darlene to answer that tolling bell when her next day to volunteer at Loughlin turned over on the calendar. Knowing she’d have to come face to face with Denny for the first time since it all went down, Darlene didn’t sleep a wink the night before.
Having originally made the commitment to help with the Loughlin House’s books a few days each month with the sole purpose of finding one of the paroled inmates there to do her bidding, with that hay now in the proverbial barn, being in that office was the last place Darlene wanted to be.
“If anyone in Boulder recognized Denny whenever he did what he did to Angie and they tie him back to this place, he wont waste a second bringing you down with him,” her inner angst reminded, but she just had to see him.
Dutifully keeping one eye on the computer screen and the other on the door to the office, waiting nervously for Denny to finally poke his head in, it wasn’t until the House’s Director ducked out for lunch that Mr. Pinson made his appearance.
“Do you know everybody’s schedule around here?” Darlene quipped.
“Actually…Yes,” he plainly replied.
“You strike me as someone who would as well,” Denny added, bringing a touché smile for just an instant to Darlene Craft’s painted lips.
The door to the office remaining open, it was clear to both that anyone could bound into the room at any moment, which caused the talk between them to remain very ‘small’ as Darlene pecked away on the spreadsheet in front of her.
Like a shark circling a mortally wounded tuna, Denny took his time pacing around the office, freely smelling the fear, uncertainty and yes, arousal rising from Darlene. Keeping one eye on the door as well, Denny knew he could walk over and close it just as he’d done a few weeks earlier during their first encounter. For the time being, he decided not to. Instead, he gradually eased up beside Darlene as she sat at her work bay and took a seat on the desk to the left of her computer.
“I’m sure you’ve already clipped that front page story out of the paper a few days ago and put it in your scrapbook,” Denny gave a whispering smile, his voice so low no one else could have heard it other than Darlene, even if the room was occupied.
“I don’t think we should be talking about that here,” she rolled her tongue around her mouth several times before replying.
Another weighty moment of silence played out between the two before Darlene once again spoke up.
“I talked to my Husband the other day,” Darlene began, not daring to make eye contact with Denny hovering above so he could see just how nervous she was.
The click of her fingernails on the keyboard rising intermittently through the room, she finally focused enough to continue.
“He’s got a project going on up in Downtown Denver..they’re about two or three weeks away from putting the wiring in he said..I mentioned there was someone down here at Loughlin that might be looking for work…he seemed like he had some interest.”
Rubbing his left hand lazily up and down his thigh listening to Darlene, Denny allowed her offer to hang in the air without directly responding. He did after all make mention that it would be nice to get some work out of the arrangement for the favor he’d done. Given the gravity of the knowledge he now had over Darlene however, Denny wasn’t about to take the wages of an honest day’s work and just call it even.
“Everything you read in the paper, Mrs. Craft..did it meet your expectations?” Denny coyly pressed Darlene until he got a slight but perceptible glow of appreciation.
“That pretty girl never saw it coming..wonder how she’s fairing at night in county lock-up?” Denny added, leaving the question open ended to allow Darlene a chance to stew in the result of what they’d done, just to make sure she was still comfortable in her skin.
Whether it was his imagination or not, it appeared Darlene began shrinking into some sort of invisible shell as he peered down at her.
“We’ve got that Burton girl taken care of,” Denny continued. “Isn’t it time to get some retribution on that Husband of yours for all this?”
Suddenly feeling as if a meat hook had been placed at the crook of her neck, Darlene froze in her seat as she absorbed the implication of Denny’s last statement.
“Calm…down…,” kaçak iddaa he soothingly sighed a few seconds later, enjoying the way he could almost pull Darlene’s emotional strings just like a puppet’s.
“I’m not talking about hurting the guy or getting him arrested or anything…I know you wouldn’t be staying with him if it wasn’t for all the money he brings home,” Denny bluntly assessed. “I was thinking of something a little more subtle than what we did with Angie, but would hopefully have the same effect, at least in your own mind.”
With no choice now but to sit back and listen, Darlene folded her hands across her lap and looked up as Denny spoke. By the time he was done, it felt as if a molten chamber of magma was churning beneath those same folded hands.
Sitting there as if he could stare straight through Darlene, Denny extended his left hand and tapped the tips of his index and middle fingers against her chin. Feeling the tremor roll down the woman’s jaw on contact, Denny traced those fingers down Darlene’s throat along with the gulp that followed. Gently brushing those same fingers across her chest a few seconds later, Denny tweaked both Darlene’s nipples through her blouse until both created noticeable protrusions.
Casting a weary eye towards the still opened door to the office, Darlene knew anyone could walk by at any moment. She also knew Denny knew that as well. Still, he sat there with his back turned to the door, freely fondling her breasts.
“He’s a fucking criminal,” The frayed shreds of Darlene’s common sense reminded. “He doesn’t care…all of this is a game to him and if he gets caught, he knows you’re getting caught with him. And he knows you have a lot more to lose than he does.”
“So why are you just sitting here..why don’t you get up..slap him..run away..something?” she asked herself.
Darlene hated the unspeakable answer her conscience provided.
Listening to Denny explicitly lay out the gist of his perverse brainstorm, Darlene tried every way she could think of to tell him what he was suggesting just wasn’t possible. The pressure in the cramped corner of the office ratcheting up each time Darlene re-buffed Danny’s overture, she could see the look of unbending intent in his eyes. The more forcefully she tried to say, “No way..No how,’ the more Darlene felt her insides start to melt however.
Keeping her hands pressed down on her lap, as if that would somehow quell the burning itch of need simmering beneath them, the more Denny’s cocksure presence caused the impending eruption to grow.
“Well if you don’t want to try that idea..I do have another one,” Denny leaned in even closer and bellowed, sounding more like a taunting executioner giving his subject their final options.
“I could just stand you up at this desk right now Mrs. Craft..I could pull your pants right down and push you down flat right here where I’m sitting…I could pull my dick out and fuck you right here on the table and you’d let me..I wouldn’t even bother closing the door..anyone could walk in at any second and you wouldn’t stop me,” he communicated to the married woman with the same matter of factness as the guy on TV giving the weather report.
An instant paralysis gripping Darlene as Denny’s words sunk in, she knew everything he was saying was true. Blinded like a driver headed straight into a cloudless sunset, Darlene squinted her eyes and held her breath, as if her next move could be her last.
Still mired in the malaise of the moment, Darlene felt Denny’s right hand close tight around her left arm before effortlessly pulling her up from her seat until she was face to face beside him. Wasting no time, Denny nudged Darlene’s office chair away with his left foot.
“Somebody’s gonna walk in Denny..this is crazy!” Darlene wanted to shout, but her lips were too dry to move.
“He can’t really be seriously thinking about…..,” Darlene’s inner voice shouted incredulously until she realized he, in fact, was.
The door to the office still wide, and invitingly open, in the time it takes a hiccup to leave a human mouth Denny had unbuttoned Darlene’s pants and yanked them, along with her bunched panties, half way down to her knees as she stood in front of him.
“UHHHHH,” she gasped, but was simply too numb and awestruck to try covering herself.
Unable to focus on anything other than the canyon sized gulf of the office’s open doorway, Darlene lost track of Denny as he stood up and disappeared like a vapor trail behind her.
“No..please..you can’t,” she managed to weakly cry, but with one fervent and steady hand placed on the center of her back, then one well focused push, Darlene found herself face down on her desk, just like he’d promised.
Cleaving his right hand between Darlene’s thighs, Denny wasted no time cupping his palm upwards against the crevice of her sopping pussy.
“This doesn’t feel like a woman who’s saying, ‘stop’,” Denny mocked as he angled his gaze lower to see Darlene’s pink and flared labia clinging like rose petals to his fingers.
“Last chance to think about my suggestion kaçak bahis Mrs. Craft…if not..I’m gonna fuck you right here for the whole world to see!” he continued to prod, stabbing his fingers through the swollen and soaked mess of Darlene’s aching genitals with each pointed word. “How is it gonna look when a couple of the guys living upstairs make their way down here and happen to look in and see what a slut you are…or when the dick that runs this place gets back from lunch and sees me fucking you. He’s gonna kick himself for leaving you here all alone with all us bad, bad men.”
Her left cheek resting on the same pile of papers minutes earlier she’d been transferring into the computer, Darlene understood fully the implications of Denny’s assessment. Feeling the cool air of the office brushing across the bare skin of her behind, even without looking back, she could also feel him positioning himself into just the right spot behind her.
Rolling her tongue through her mouth as she tried to gain some sort of mental foothold in the swiftly shifting sands below, Darlene finally relented and told Denny she’d try to work something out, to make what he was suggesting happen. All that was done with Denny’s hand resting on the zipper of his fly, just waiting for the chance to rip it down and do exactly what he’d been threatening to do right there in the broad, noontime daylight.
It took less than a minute for Darlene to pull her pants back up, stuff her blouse back inside them and get them re-buttoned before resuming her position behind the desk. It was a damn good thing considering within a minute after doing all that, one of other residents at Loughlin came downstairs and walked by the front of the office on his way to use the payphone in the lobby. Typing indiscriminately at the keys of the computer, giving the appearance that she was focused solely on her work, Darlene did raise her eyes just enough to watch Denny excuse himself from the room.
Within five minutes of all that, the Director came back from his lunch break and took a seat at the larger desk to the right of Darlene’s.
“Miss anything while I was gone…anyone call?” the crusty older man asked as he thumbed through several packets waiting in his incoming file basket.
“No…,” Darlene replied dryly, without looking over. “Nothing at all.”
Laying flat on her back, her body sprawled out on the same bed she’d slept in for 20 plus years, Darlene stared up at the blades of the ceiling fan rotating endlessly above her. Inhaling the familiar potpourri of cinnamon and vanilla wafting from the master bathroom 10 or so feet away, Darlene listened to the rhythmic strain of the mattress and box springs below. She’d had sex plenty of times in that bed, but never with man besides her Husband, until now.
Not that her Husband ever did anything to her on that marital bed compared to the ringer Denny was now putting her through. Her knees pushed up to each side of her head, Darlene’s wails echoed through the empty house as she savagely ripped her fingernails across Denny’s muscular back.
It was a little after 1 that Friday afternoon. Darlene’s Husband Curt was at work, her two teenaged Daughters were safely shuffled off to school, and Darlene Craft was getting her brains fucked out by an Ex-con while the rest of the world spun obliviously on it’s axis.
The entire bed rattling like a Cessna attempting to take off, Denny plowed Darlene’s cunt with everything he had. Having got her off manually way back during their first bit of alone time inside the Loughlin office, now that Denny had connived his way inside her, in more ways than one, he fucked the married woman with a lifetime’s worth of testosterone fueled rage and reckless abandon.
His hands wedged firmly along the insides of both Darlene’s knees, Denny held her there in that uncompromising position creating a clear path to pound his groin straight into her’s. His clothes strewn in a haphazard pile lining the floor of another man’s bedroom, Denny perched himself on his knees, creating a violently efficient downward thrusting angle until the rigid spear of his manhood was drilling in and out of Darlene with blinding precision.
“OHMYGOD…OHMYGOD..OHMYGOD….OHHHMMYYGGOODDDD,” Darlene grimaced over and over, allowing herself to go hurdling over the edge she’d long been skirting, knowing the house, for the time being, was all theirs.
Her chest pressed tightly against his as she submitted completely to Denny’s will, Darlene looked up the best she could through her bouncing eyes and watched as he slid the grip of his hands off the insides of her knees and guided them over her calves until he’d locked them tight around her ankles.
Feeling him tug her legs all the way apart, it was more than her body at that moment that was open to him, but her very mind, spirit and soul. Wasting no time seizing the opportunity, Denny rotated his hips forward in slow, methodically driven strokes until it felt as if his cock had literally taken root inside her quivering womb. Unable to stop herself from adding her own hands to the frothing outer rim of her quim, Darlene pinched and tugged at her insanely aroused clit until she’d succumb to, not one but two brutal orgasms impaled on Denny’s unforgiving dagger.
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