Reckless Disregard

Chapter One-2

The threat of the tribe, not to mention the thought of disobeying or even disappointing Geoff made Bridget think twice, and then twice more, before she called to tell him she’d be late that night. Hearing that he was going to be home all evening with no interruptions made the favor for Alecia even more annoying. But having agreed to the rotten scheme, seeing the utter anxiety in her friend’s face, and knowing how things with Lyle McCall could easily go sour, there seemed to be no choice but to hold her breath and move forward praying that nothing would go wrong.

“My, you’re giving me all the more reason to get out of here fast,” she told her husband. “I promise, I’ll hurry. How about six-thirty, seven at the latest?”

“I’ll keep the wine chilled,” he answered.

“Want me to dance for you?” She could feel her crotch getting hot at the thought of something very raunchy.

“I think that would be just fine,” he replied.

Damn! She thought as she hung up, how do I agree to these things anyway? I should be home where I belong. Despite the foreboding agitation in the pit of her stomach, she resolved to get the deed over and done with as soon as possible.

The end result of the night was more than Bridget could ever have imagined.

***

Getting quickly in and out of the bank was a piece ofcake although Bridget was scared to death carrying so much cash. What wasworse, however, was a honking, grumbling and finally numbing traffic jam on thecross-town bridge connecting the business district and the neighborhood wherethey’d find Lyle McCall’s office. At five o’clock, a six-car pile up meantdisaster for Bridget’s plans to get home by six-thirty. Stupidly, she’d letAlecia insist on driving her car. Of course, it wouldn’t have mattered whosecar was stuck between two dusty semis and an i***t taxi driver scowling at themevery time he looked their way. The unshaven moron was sure Alecia would passhim at the first opportunity—which is exactly what she’d do. But Alecia,thinking she could charm anyone, simply smiled serenely at the scruffy glaringface and waited for her chance to move into the open. She believed in the powerof kindness to conquer everything—even angry taxi drivers and miserable trafficjams. As annoyingas the whole scheme was becoming for Bridget, her anxious mood began to changethe longer she sat beside Alecia in the artist’s vintage Fiat. In fact, thelonger they waited, the more the pleasant and often riotous parts of theirshared history returned to her conscious memory. She started to giggle.“Remember the time we broke into Rocco’s mother’s diner and made salamisandwiches?” “Never gotcaught, did we?” “Hey, wecleaned up and left her tip money.” It was a pleasant memory. “How about thatnight we spent in the city zoo? I was never so scared in my life.” “Fuckingscared, more like it,” Alecia exclaimed. “Almost asbad as the day I had to pull your drunken little body out of Lyle’s apartment.”The memories seemed sweet in retrospect until she landed on that one. Realitystruck with a thud and Alecia didn’t say a word. “Yeah, it’s Lyle we’re goingto see right now. Lyle you owe money to. Lyle who does nothing unless he has agood reason. What does he want?” “What doeshe want? His money back.” “No, whatdoes he really want?” “Hey,Bridget, you know, for a minute, you were starting to sound like the old pal Iused to have. Quit being so bloody paranoid. It’s been almost three years.Lyle’s out of the slammer and he’s changed. I swear. He’s a legitimatebusinessman now.” “Yeah,sure.” Aftermoving inch by inch for nearly a half-hour, the traffic, in one of thosemiraculous turns, suddenly lightened. Alecia floored the Fiat and moved infront of the taxi, whirring through the rest of the jam-up until they were offthe bridge making their way through a dark neighborhood, feeling as though theywere being sucked inside the morass of ugly tenements and broken businesses. “Lyle’soffice is here?” “Awarehouse.” Alecia didn’t seem particularly concerned. “Supposed to be prettynice.” “Have youbeen there before?” “Never.” “How do youknow where you’re going?” “See thattower over there,” she pointed to a brick smokestack rising above an abandonedfactory. “There?” “No, acrossthe street, said I couldn’t miss it. ‘Just drive in that direction.’” Bridgettook a deep breath, not knowing whether to be rattled with fear or let Alecia’sblasé confidence effect her own. They pulled up in front of a pale grey metalwarehouse across the street from the deteriorating smokestack and its factorysprawled below. The two young women noted the dull light shining through onedust-covered window of Lyle’s warehouse. Hardly an inviting sight. “ImportSales,” read the sign hanging over the door. “What doeshe sell?” Bridget asked. “Didn’tsay.” “Afraid toask, I suppose?” Sheshrugged unconcerned. “Probably not a good question.”The interior of the building was as gloomy as itsfaçade and the surrounding neighborhood. The grimy yellow gleam from theoverhead lamps cast such shadows it felt as though there were a layer of sooteverywhere. The air was filled with the scent of cigarette smoke, the embers ofa used butt still glowing in a messy ashtray on the cluttered desk. Both womenalmost choked. “Guess hedidn’t kick the habit after all,” Alecia droned, “Hey Lyle!” she called outloudly. There wasno answer. “Lyle!” Shetried again two more times, then heard the sound of men chuckling from behindan open door in the back of the room. The voices getting louder, she calledLyle one more time. “Hey, babe!”he burst through the opening with a broad smile on his face. Bridgetwinced inside and out—the effect Lyle McCall had on her had not changed. Hishair was shorter, coal black and neatly trimmed. A pair of dazzling eyes withheavy lids seduced her more than she would have liked. “AndBridget Bennington!” He said as he swaggered her way. “How’s the familymuseum?” He greeted her with a profound hug she could feel all through hercrotch. Giving Alecia the same, he then backed off. Lyle hadbeen through a dozen incarnations of style, all of which were perfectlyexecuted in the fashion of the times to provoke a s****l response from women.Lyle rarely failed to get the result he wanted. Now his style was casual, butexpensive and sophisticated: pressed jeans, cowboy boots, clean whitetee-shirt, and a soft brown leather jacket. “Got mymoney, Lecia?” “Yes.Bridget’s loaning it to me until Thursday, though I don’t see why you couldn’thave waited.” He shookhis head smiling. “You’re already in arrears. Told me I’d have it weeks ago.” “Well, Ijust did get that collector to buy two of my paintings.” Hechuckled. “Gee, I remember when you were a w***e living off of me in that lousystudio, just so you could pursue your art. Now you’re almost famous.” “I wasn’t awhore!” Alecia snapped. “Hey, Ilove whores,” Lyle snickered with his charming asshole grin. “I wasn’t awhore. Besides, we were almost engaged.” “Really?Did it get that far?” “The drugseffected your mind.” “Maybe. Sowhere’s my money?” Bridgetrifled through her purse, prying the envelope of twenty dollar bills frombetween her wallet and her daytimer. “Here?” Lyle openedit as though it were ill-gained booty from a robbery, and shuffled through thebills to make certain everything was there. “You’re a thousand short,” heannounced. “What!That’s what you said you wanted!” Alecia snapped. “Oh, hon,but I changed my mind. Didn’t I call? Or maybe you didn’t get the message. Ileft it on your answering machine.” “Lyle, Idon’t have it. I certainly couldn’t get it today if I did.” Lyle wasn’tangry at all, but darkly pleased with himself. Moving closer to the redhead, heran his hand through her brassy curls. “You want Bridget to see this?” “See what?”Bridget asked. Lyle turnedher way, “Interest. I’ll just have to collect a little more than usual.” “Ah, c’mon,Lyle,” Alecia said, “you weren’t really serious about that. I’m a marriedwoman.” “I don’tgive a s**t if you’re married. A cunt’s a cunt.” “You’regoing to screw her!?” Bridget exclaimed. “Yeah, MissMuseum Associate Curator, you wanna join in?” “Alecia!You agreed to this?” “Sort of,”she answered. Lyle's hands were already on her ass, pulling the long blackskirt up an inch at a time. “Shouldjust rip this off,” he snickered. “No, Lyle,I have to go home tonight.” “Of courseyou do. To that buttoned down, Charles Investment Broker Morehead.” “Lyle,please. You’re getting the money. The rest I’ll have for you Thursday.” “No, I likethis better. Besides, so do you. Think of it as a stroll down memory lane.” Hehad her skirt above her hips, showing off her pantiless ass. Bridgetstared in speechless amazement as Lyle’s fondling hands moved deeper intoAlecia’s crotch and her best friend answered sexually in spite of herself,expelling a pleasurable gasp of breath from her lips. Delighted with hisex-girlfriend’s response, Lyle grasped the bright white ass and squeezed,showing Bridget every move. “Lyle, youdon’t…” she started to speak. “Oh, Ithink I do. In fact you’ll get to see exactly what it was that kept the two ofus so happy.” “Alecia,why?” Bridget pleaded with her. “Don’tworry, hon, it’ll be over quickly,” Alecia assured her. “I’m notsure you want it over quick,” Bridget charged back. “Humm,maybe, maybe not,” Lyle answered for the surrendering artist. “Remember when Iused to spank your ass?” “Lyle, no.”Alecia suddenly tried to pull away. “It’s justa reminder, darlin’. A little punishment for not getting what I wanted.” “But I didn’tknow that’s what you wanted!” “Too bad,”he snickered. “Listen,Lyle,” Bridget jumped in, “I’ll write you a check for another thousand.” “Oh,really?” he seemed interested. “Bridgetno!” Alecia cried. “No,Bridget,” Lyle repeated the sentiment, c*****g his head in a smarmy fashion souniquely like the scoundrel. “You’re sweet to offer, but actually it’s Alecia’sass I want.” “It’s okay,Bridgey,” the redhead said with an endearing glance her way. Then, as thoughshe were a rag doll in Lyle’s hands, she went over the edge of his desk,letting him tug at her skirt until it fell noiselessly to the dusty floor in apuddle of black. Alecia’s bare ass cheeks looked iridescent in the light from afixture overhead. “Never havehad an ass like yours,” Lyle said as though he were sad and bitter andmelancholy over something that was long since past. He took his belt from hisjeans, drawing the long lean leather from his waist in such an official feelingmoment, one would have thought he was a righteous father punishing a child.Doubling the thing in his fist, he stood back for a moment to admire Alecia’sresplendent cheeks and then laid into the robust globes with lightning speedand hot sharp snaps. “Ooo ouch!”she blared. Thecommotion brought two burly men from the back of the warehouse. They watched,their senses dulled to the whipping that Alecia was getting. As shemoaned unhappily, the two orbs began to brighten, intensely scorched from thestaccato of smacks. Bridget watched the scene aware that there was more goingon here than Lyle’s despicable talent for getting what he wanted. There wasalmost something loving happening between the two, something she should haveseen—and often did—between Alecia and Charlie. Lyle was right, this was a ‘strolldown memory lane’—and the memory was pretty damn pleasing. Bridget knew alot about her friend, but she didn’t know the twisted affair with Lyle McCallincluded spanking. No wonder the sassy artist fell into a spanking lifestylewith Charlie without so much as a decent protest. Lylechortled under his breath as Alecia’s ass grew hotter, as the blush turned frompink to scarlet, and she began to howl that it was too damn much! When hedropped the belt, his p***s was fully erect, pressing against the crotch of hispants. His fly was open in seconds. Feeling her p***y with his hand, he foundthe hole dripping wet, just as it had been so many times in the past. Thisseemed to please him even more. The stunnedBridget and Lyle’s two lusty-eyed companions witnessed every vile second ofthis assault. To their gawking amazement, the horny Lyle didn’t stop withattacking her cunt, but slathered Alecia’s s*x juice on her anus and began toprod her there with the head of this shaft. “Relax,b***h,” the brute scowled under his breath, and Alecia obeyed just as she wouldhave three years ago when she loved the man. After all, it was her favoritekind of s*x, even from an old boyfriend she hated—hated only because he was aconniving bastard with a predilection for trouble, a mean temper, and an onagain, off again drug habit. Other than that, he was the best damn f**k sheever had—including Charlie—something Bridget understood, but Charlie shouldnever know. Alecia gotass f****d. Forgetting that she should be scared out of her wits and pissed andeverything else—she actually thought she was safe, as safe as she could be withLyle. For just that instant, she forgot she was married, and the seedysurroundings of the office, and the fact of being watched by two horny men andher best friend. She was hot, wiggling her ass into Lyle’s pounding meat,meeting the f**k with lusty cries and getting ready to c*m. Just like oldtimes, Lyle knew the moves that would work to bring her off. And he did so witha satisfied gleam in his coal dark eyes. Theyscreamed in unison as they came, looking like two wrenching animals. Thenwithout missing a beat, he was out of her, dripping the last of his seed on thered parched skin of her randy ass. “Damn, you’re good,” he exclaimed, slappingthe pink flesh. “You want her she’s yours,” he said as he turned to the men atthe door. One, thegood-looking one, shook his head, too bashful to try; but the other, a hulkingbully with a smile on his face moved forward and did what Lyle had just done toAlecia’s ass—spanking excluded. She wasn’t modest, or beyond getting off asecond time, while Bridget winced, troubled by Alecia’s rotten descent intoLyle’s pandering world. Three years, you would think she wouldn’t remember itso well, and with such bonafide enthusiasm. Maybe it was to be expected. Theworld they now inhabited—the one where husbands spanked their wives for goodreason, and women learned to yield submissively—was perhaps no more than acivilized version of this one. Bridgetstared so mesmerized by the scene before her that she didn’t hear the sirenscoming from some place distant. Nothing breached through her spellbound studyof Alecia’s rape until there was the sound of official voices outside thewarehouse, and a banging at the door, and then a dozen men sweeping inside withbadges and sour faces.