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Tales of Bette: On Her Ray-dar (the abridged version)

It's been a while since Bette saw Raymond at the all night graduation party.

By Tinka Boudit She/HerPublished 3 years ago 8 min read
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The sequel to...

Saturday July 12, 2014

The evening was getting late and the party was dying off. There were over 400 people in Public North's graduating class from 2004; maybe 120 showed up to the reunion party that night. The only close familiar faces she ran into and spent time with were Katie and Ashleigh.

Bette said her goodnights before leaving the hotel ballroom and making her way down the hallway to the lobby. She paused in the lobby and looked at her phone. She glanced at it, no messages. She looked in the hotel bar, sitting there, looking at one of the TVs, was Raymond. She walked into the bar and sat at a stool leaving one between her and Raymond. She sat back and crossed her legs under her long green dress. She eyed the taps then the bartender across the way who came up to Bette, "Stella Cidre."

"Anything else?" She offered.

"No, thank you."

Bette glanced at Raymond, "I'm guessing what you wanted wasn't included with your two-drink ticket?" She asked smiling.

Raymond looked down at his glass and to Bette fiddling with the pendant of her necklace; there was a slight green sheen on it that matched her dress. "They didn't have Bulleit in the ballroom."

"Did you have a good night in spite of it?" She asked brightly.

"I'm not sure what I expected. I thought there would be more people."

She gave him a single breathy laugh, "I was thinking the same thing. I drive two hours to get here and I'm sure everyone has the ability to stay with their parents if they don't still live in town. It's been nice seeing everyone."

Raymond let out a sarcastic laugh. "You might have only driven two hours but I had to come from two states away. I think I saw one person I wanted to see tonight."

"Who was that?"

"Ted. But he wouldn't shut up about his baby. I get it, you have a kid." Raymond finished his drink. "We're still in our 20s, we got time to have kids, right? I come here to have a little fun and it barely happens." He was irritated but still smiling when he said it.

"I get that, yeah. I don't want kids either, not yet, maybe not at all." Bette moved over to the barstool next to him. They chatted about the evening, who they spoke to, who else didn't go to the reunion, their work, and their hobbies for almost an hour. Raymond ran a small auto shop and had a hobby farm and did CrossFit workouts; a self-described work-aholic, he couldn't stay still in life. A drink or two and watching baseball were a couple ways he could actually relax.

"You said you wanted to have some fun? I can help." She pulled her purse into her lap, unzipped a pocket, and leaned it towards Raymond with a sly smile on her face. She flashed him her bit of pot and pipe in her purse, quickly zipped it closed again and looked back at Raymond. Raymond looked intrigued.

"I didn't think you were the type for that," he said in a teasing tone. "The way you described your work management and stuff, you look so put together, I didn't think that would be your style."

Bette finished her cider. "Looks versus what's underneath are two different things."

Raymond leaned slightly towards her and whispered, "It's probably not as primo as the stuff I grow on my property, but I'm willing to give it a try."

"You're saying you wanna go somewhere?" She asked slowly and carefully, tilting her head.

"Hey, you offered."

"I offered what was in my purse. I offered a little fun," she clarified.

"And I'm saying the bath fan vent up in my room might do the job we need it too."

"Now that sounds like an offer, Raymond," she said with a smile.

"I think it was," he smiled back.

"Thank you. Sounds good." Bette pulled her card out of her wallet to pay. She eyed the bartender for the tab and ran her leg against Raymond's. He didn't say anything, she didn't look to him or change her expression, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head towards her and the minor look of surprise on his face. "His drink too," she told the bartender as she took Bette's card and stepped away. Something about the angle from where they sat and the lighting of the room and the brightness of the TV screen, a memory flashed in Bette's head and she let out a laugh. "Late May, freshman year. You put your arm around the back of my chair during science class during a video. I said it was fine. You took your arm back. I said you could have left it there. You said you were joking around. I was a little bummed." The bartender came back with Bette's card and she signed the bill and they got up.

"I don't remember that," he smiled.

"What do you remember?" They walked out of the bar and towards the elevator.

"I looked through our senior yearbook before I came here, you wrote something flirty in my yearbook." He pushed the elevator button and got on.

"It's funny you mentioned the yearbook. I don't remember what I wrote, but I remember you asking me 'Marry, fuck, kill' about you, Brock G, and Ted then you grabbing your crotch. Then I'm pretty sure I gave you my number, and you never called me." Her tone implied that she knew she gave him her phone number.

Raymond began to blush and he covered his face partially with his hand. "Oh man." He dropped his hand, looked forward at the door and buttons cringing, "How gross was I? How are we even talking right now?"

"We all make mistakes. Mine was not asking for your number that night."

Raymond looked over at Bette a bit shocked, she had an alluring look on her face. "I guess I didn't think I was your type. I thought you were just being nice when you kissed my yearbook."

She looked him up and down and stepped close to him, close enough that she could still smell a little of the bourbon on him. She looked him in the eye and spoke in a quiet purr, "Sometimes 'type' and 'nice' have nothing to do with each other Ray." The elevator dinged and the doors opened. "Lead the way, Raymond-Ray."

Raymond got a sly grin on his face as they walked out of the elevator together. "For some reason I remember you being...shyer."

"I've grown since then. I was hoping you had too," Bette's tone grew more provocative.

"Oh, I've grown," he said in a matching tone. He swiped his key card in the door and it beeped and clicked open. He held open the door for her, as she walked in, she glided her fingertips across his chest. He stepped in and let the door close. "You don't mess around, do you?"

She set her purse down on the table next to the TV, "I don't pick up men like you every day."

He gave her a confused look and slowly went into a smile. "You thought you had to pick me up?"

Bette shrugged. "It's working, wasn't it? Is that an insult?"

Raymond put toe to heel and put a hand on the wall to balance himself to take off his shoes. "Yep. It worked. Not offended."

Bette kicked off her sandals. They met at the foot of the bed and he wrapped his arms around her. Bette tilted her head and pulled his lips into hers with a sigh. Bette was on her tiptoes as she slid her hands off his jaw to the front of his shirt.

Raymond gave her a cocky smirk as they peeled off his shirts. "The gardening might keep the fat off." He tossed them onto his overnight bag. "But CrossFit keeps me defined." Bette stared stunned at his chiseled chest and firm abs.

His fingers curled under the straps of her dress. Ray leaned into her and started kissing Bette's neck. "Uh, who told you I liked that spot?" She held his waist.

He whispered in her ear, "Just doing what comes naturally." He pulled the stretchy straps off her shoulders and off her arms and the dress fell like a sheet around her. He pulled back and looked at her. Bette wore a black bra and panties. He bent over and picked up her green silky dress; it draped between his hands as he stood up straight. "I got an idea."

"Hmm?"

He then stepped between the beds, turned on one of the lamps, draped her dress over the lampshade and turned off the other lights of the room. The light in the room left was a dim green hue. The soft green light left a haze on their skin, a surprisingly flattering tone that made Raymond glow as he approached her again. He bent over slightly and ran his fingertips over her thighs, hips, waist, around her back and pulled her tight against him. She ran her hands up his muscular arms and gripped his firm shoulders. "You're gonna wanna hold on." He bent his knees, ran his hands down her back, over her butt, gripped her thighs, picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Raymond groaned to her touch. "God, I needed this."

She spoke through breathy words, "You and me both. Just don't make it boring." She bit his shoulder a little and scratched his back; he took a breath in through his teeth.

"No choking and no slapping in the face, and I'm good with that." He unhooked the back of her bra. He nosed her nipple out of her bra and circled his tongue around it slowly while looking up at her. Bette had a heated look on her face. "How's that?"

While Raymond teased her nipples with his mouth, she took her arms out of her bra and let it drop to the floor. He fell back on the bed, moving up onto it more; she undid his pants and they slid them off his legs. He ran a hand into the back of Bette's panties, squeezing her butt, and removing her panties. He moved his hand to the front over her wet, soft skin.

"God, were you always this good?" She panted.

He wrapped his other arm around her back and swiftly rolled her onto her back and she let out another gasp in the process. He slowed his fingers a little he watched the aroused interest on her face. "I could hold your pussy and fire off orgasms with my thumb on your clit all night and not get tired of the feeling, because I could make you beg for more and enjoy every touch and sound."

She moaned to his touch. "Fuck you, Marry Ted, Kill Brock G. Don't make me regret my choice." She pulled his mouth onto hers and slid her hand into his shorts.

erotic
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About the Creator

Tinka Boudit She/Her

contact on FB & IG

linktr.ee/tinkaboudit

The Soundtrack BOI: WA

FP

Bette On It: Puddle, Desks, Door, Gym, Condoms, Couch, Dancers, Graduate.

Purveyor of Metaphorical Hyperbole, Boundless, Ridiculous, Amazing...and Humble.

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