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From: RuthiesStories@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} (Betsy) See Betsy Run {Mr. Slot}
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Date: Fri,  2 Jul 2004 07:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "See Betsy Run.txt" begin>

See Betsy Run By Mr.  Slot

   It was on a night like this that I met her.

   Betsy.

   I had taken to walking the streets at night after my relationship with
Cindy ended.  Well it was better than staying home and watching old
sit-coms on television.  They were funny the first time around, maybe even
the second time.  But when you're watching Hawkeye Pierce deliver the same
zinger at Frank Burns for the thirty-eighth time, well let's just say the
joke's worn a bit thin.

   So I'd hit the streets, avoiding the sleazier part of town where the
strip clubs run twenty-four hours a day.  All that flashing neon and
barking spruikers telling me in a voice that would drown out a jet engine
that they have real live nude girls inside.  I guess the fake dead ones
don't bring in the crowds.  I gave into the constant verbal battering once
and went inside one of these "quality" establishments.  I paid five dollars
for a glass of watered down beer and watched a bottle blonde remove her
clothes with all the vitality of a paid political announcement.

   Whoopee.

   So I kept to the quieter streets of uptown where people are rich enough
to afford doormen and car thieves snub anything less than a BMW.  Sometimes
I got strange looks from the few people I met.  An unknown man walking
aimlessly around on his own tends to raise suspicions.  I considered buying
a dog but there are strict laws governing dog ownership, and there is
something humiliating about walking around with a plastic bag full of dog
turds.  So I walked alone, trying to forget about late night television and
a girl named Cindy.

   Cindy.

   I swear I loved that girl.  She was my everything.  I honestly thought
she was as happy as I was.  I make a decent living as an accountant and she
had a good job as a real estate agent.  We were doing the nine to five
thing and saving for a house to call our own.  But that ended just two
weeks after my thirty-fourth birthday, when I came home early from work. 
All the computers were down because of a power outage, so the boss sent
everyone home, after ensuring we would work through our lunch break the
next day.  Our boss was a real humanitarian.  There was a rumour going
around the office that he kept a time clock next to his bed, so he would
punch in and out when servicing his wife.

   As I walked into the small apartment we called home I heard a noise
coming from the bedroom.  Cindy always got home before me but this was
early even for her.  Thinking we were being robbed I carefully made my way
down the hall and slowly poked my head through the open doorway.  And there
was my Cindy wearing the top half of a Cat Woman outfit and straddling a
large man dressed as Superman.

   I was shocked.

   I was horrified.

   Didn't she know Cat Woman would never bonk Superman?  Batman maybe, but
never Superman.  At that moment she looked over and saw me, the horror and
disbelief evident on my face.  I expected her to say something, deny it was
happening, claim she was being forced against her will, anything but what
she did.  She turned back to the man on the bed and kept right on bonking
him.

   I did the only thing I could in the situation.  I went to the kitchen
and made myself a pot of tea.  After she had finished she came out to talk
to me.

   "Honey, it's not what you think," she said.

   "I think you were having sex with our bank manager," I replied.

   "Okay, so it is what you think.  But I was doing it for us."

   "Us?  How on earth can you having sex with our bank manager possibly be
a benefit to us?"

   "He said he'd give us a low interest home loan if I did."

   "Oh." It was all I could think of to say.  I guess what she said held
some sort of logic.  But I still felt betrayed.  And I knew others would be
hurt.  "What about his wife?  What if she found out?"

   At that moment I heard the toilet flush and a middle aged Wonder Woman
walked out of the bathroom twirling her magic lariat.  It was the bank
manager's wife.

   She looked me up and down then turned to Cindy and said, "We have
another one, do we?  Well I guess I can handle him for you.  I'm in the
mood for a little bondage." She looked me up and down.  "And he is kinda
cute.  Don't forget now, Cindy, Jonathan and Richard will be here soon."

   "And who are Jonathan and Richard?" I asked my fiancée.

   "The milkman and the baker.  Honey, it's not what you think."

   I left that night.

   And so it was that I was walking down a street in a quiet part of town
in the middle of the night.  As I went by an alley voices from within
grabbed my attention.  I could see a group of four people, one woman and
three men, illuminated by a street lamp.  Two of the men were holding the
woman from behind, while the third was on his knees before her, running his
hands up her legs and under her skirt.

   Now I am the first to admit I am not a hero, but I had just had a
particularly hard day at work and most of my time walking the streets had
been spent thinking about Cindy.  I was ripe for trouble.  So I cautiously
moved into the alley, using the shadows to conceal my approach.  I picked
up a handy piece of wooden board that was sitting in a pile of garbage and
crept closer, stopping at the edge of the shadows.  I didn't want to reveal
myself in the light of the street lamp.

   Gathering up my courage I raised the wood and ran at them, yelling
incoherently.  The one doing the touchy-feely act turned just in time to
catch the flat of the board across his face.  It made a loud slapping noise
as it hit him, instantly bloodying his nose and knocking him on his arse.
His companions let go of the woman and faced me.  I knew I was in trouble
if I couldn't bluff these two into believing I could take them on and win.
I decided the best approach was to fake total lunacy.

   "Come on," I yelled, "I'll take you all on.  I know Kung-Fu and I'm not
afraid to use it." The only thing I knew about Kung Fu was the television
show that was on Friday nights at 11:30.  I leaped towards them, waving my
arms wildly with elaborate chopping motions, all the while making weird
sounds like a cat being strangled.

   All three of my opponents stared at me for a second, then turned tail
and fled.  There's a lot to be said for acting like a complete loon.  I
turned to the woman who had fallen in a heap when her attackers let her go.
She looked up at me as I extended a hand to lift her off the cold,
garbage-strewn cement.

   "What the hell do you think you are doing?" she yelled at me as she
slapped my hand away.

   "I'm helping you up," I replied.

   "I can see that, you idiot.  I meant why did you scare them off like
that?  Are you some sort of mental defective?"

   "No, it was just an act to bluff them.  I was just trying to protect
you."

   "Protect me?" she asked incredulously.  "What makes you think I need
protecting?"

   "Well there were three of them attacking you.  Anyone would need help if
they were outnumbered like that." I had the feeling that this wasn't what
I'd presumed it to be.

   "They were not attacking me, you idiot.  They were my johns."

   "Your what?" I asked.  I wanted to make sure I heard her right.  She
looked no more than 18...  maybe 19, but with a mouth like an old sailor.
Her long brown hair was a mess of tangles.

   "My johns, my clients." She looked at me like I just wasn't getting it.
"Jesus, you really are an idiot.  They were my customers.  They were going
to pay me a hundred dollars to have sex with all three of them."

   I looked at her dumbfounded.  "You're a prostitute?"

   "Oh very good, you finally worked it out.  At this rate you'll be up to
a fifth grade education in no time." This woman had a gift for sarcasm.  I
turned around and started to walk away.  My bed suddenly looked very
inviting.

   "Hey, don't just walk off like that," she yelled after me.  "You owe me
a hundred dollars."

   "What?" I said, turning back to her.  "How do you figure that?"

   "Well they weren't going to pay me till afterwards, and seeing as you
scared them off before they could do the deed, you owe me what I was going
to be paid."

   "I don't have that sort of money," I said, patting my pockets for
emphasis.

   "Well you better find some," she said, walking up to me and poking me in
the chest.  "You owe me."

   She was a feisty little thing.  She couldn't have been much taller than
5'3" but she certainly packed a punch.  The finger poking she was giving me
in my chest was beginning to hurt.  I grabbed her hand and looked into her
big brown eyes.

   "Look," I said, "there's a twenty-four hour donut shop around the
corner. If you promise to stop poking me I'll buy you a donut and a cup of
coffee.

   "Two donuts," she said, pouting those full lips of hers.  I will always
remember how she looked at that moment, standing defiantly in the light of
that old street lamp, threatening to poke me again over a donut.

   "Okay, two," I agreed and smiled at her.

   She smiled back at me.  It was the kind of smile that lit up a room. 
She bent over and pulled a battered old backpack out from under a nearby
cardboard box.

   "And while we are having our coffee and donuts, we can discuss the
hundred dollars you owe me."

   The donut shop was really just a grease trap and the donuts were just
stale bakery items with sprinkles, but at least the coffee was crap.  It
also appeared to have more than its quota of police officers sitting at the
counter.  Some of this town's finest, scarfing stale donuts and drinking
bad coffee, while outside the latest crime wave was hitting its peak.  The
woman grabbed my arm and dragged me to a corner booth.  She looked at the
counter jocks with some trepidation.

   "I don't like being near cops," she whispered to me.  "There's something
greasy about them."

   "It's probably the donuts," I said.  "How do you want your coffee?"

   "I like my coffee like my men," she said.

   "Strong and black?"

   "No, white and in a cup."

   I wasn't sure if that was a joke or not, but I decided not to push it. I
walked over to the counter and ordered two white coffees and a half dozen
donuts.  The cop I was standing next to looked over my shoulder at the girl
in the booth.

   "I see you picked up Betsy," he said.

   "Betsy?" I replied, "Is that her name?"

   "Well actually we call her Twenty Dollar Bet."

   I looked at him, not understanding what he meant.

   "She bobs for twenty bucks.  Two tenners for a tongue lash." The cop was
getting exasperated at my ignorance.  I guess I was just slow that night.

   "She charges twenty dollars for a blow job." The cop turned to his
partner and mumbled something to him, which must have been funny because
they both laughed loudly at it.  I collected my order and went back to the
booth.

   "You telling jokes over there?" she asked as I sat down.

   "No, they were just telling me your name, Betsy."

   "Oh were they now?  And what other pearls of wisdom did they impart to
you?"

   "Nothing, it's not important."

   "God I hate those bastards.  All I am trying to do is survive on the
streets, and they make it as hard as possible." She looked at the cops over
the top of her coffee, her eyes squinting against the steam rising from the
cup.  She looked back at me and asked, "What's your name, Slim?"

   "Howard...  Howard Bloom."

   "Betsy Powell," she said, offering me her hand.  I shook it.

   "Pleased to meet you, Betsy.  So why are you living on the streets?" I
didn't expect much of an answer but she must have been in a talkative mood.

   "My step father bashed me so I left."

   "Why did he do that?" I asked.

   "He was a bit upset because I had sex on his car.  Well one of them
anyway.  He owns a car dealership, you see, and I had sex on the hood of
one of his cars with his best salesman."

   "But how did he know you had sex on his car?  Did he catch you in the
act?"

   "Well it was a little hard to miss, Howard," she said with a wink.  "We
were doing it during his lunch break."

   "You had sex on the hood of a car in the middle of the day?" I was
amazed.

   "Yup.  Middle of the day, middle of the lot.  I think he was just pissed
because we dented the hood of a car he had just sold.  You should've seen
it.  There was a perfect imprint of my arse on the hood of that Chrysler.
Anyway, he hit me and I left."

   "Did he fire the salesman?" I asked, trying to find some sort of
sensibility in a totally insensible act.

   "No, he wouldn't sack his own son."

   I sprayed coffee across the table.  "His son?  Your step-brother?"

   "Yup.  What can I say, he was an incredible fuck.  Besides, I like
dangerous sex." She smiled at me with those full lips of hers.  I was soon
to find out just how dangerous she liked it.

   "So what about you, Howard?  What's in your dark past?"

   "I don't have a dark past," I said, wishing she would change the
subject.

   "Sure you do.  I've seen you walk these streets night after night. 
That's not normal behaviour.  Come on, Howard, tell me everything."

   I don't know why but I did.  I told her all about Cindy, about the
Superfriends orgy, everything.  And truth be told, I felt better after
getting it all off my chest.  Betsy listened to every word and when I was
done she took my hand.

   "I know just what you need, Howard.  Come with me." She got up from the
booth and led me outside.  It was a lot colder out there and I pulled my
coat shut against the wind.  Betsy led me over to a police car parked by
the curb, then around to the driver's side.

   "What are we doing?" I asked.  I was worried she was going to steal the
car.  The last thing I wanted was a spot on "Wildest Police Videos of
Thirty-Four Year Old Men Stealing Cars With Teenage Girls".  But instead of
breaking into the police car she knelt down and quickly unzipped my fly. 
In a matter of seconds she had my dick out of hiding and was gently
stroking it.

   "Um, Betsy, I really don't think we should be doing this." To say I was
nervous was like saying World War II was a minor political squabble.

   "Shh," she said just before taking my cock into her mouth.  I could feel
her tongue at work, and I marvelled at how good she was.  I gently ran my
hands through her hair.  Betsy let me go with a plop and looked up at me.

   "Do you want me to stop, Howard?"

   "Oh God no." I wasn't used to this type of oral attention.  I was in
heaven.

   "Good," she said, "but you have to promise me something."

   "Anything, just don't stop." I would gladly sell my soul if she wanted.
She was that good.

   "You have to promise me you'll cum, no matter what.  Can you promise me
that, Howard?"

   Could I promise that I would cum?  My God, I could practically guarantee
it.  I nodded to her and she went back to showing me that heaven was a
cold, dark street in the middle of the night.

   It wasn't long before I started to groan, heralding my approaching
orgasm.  I was about to find release when the car door in front of me
opened.  I felt her mouth leave, only to be replaced by her hand.  I looked
down as I felt her gently guide me to the open door.

   "What are you doing," I asked, trying hard to keep my balance.

   "You promised me, Howard," she said as she continued to stroke me.  "You
promised me you would cum no matter what.  Now it's time to keep your
promise.  Cum for me baby, cum all over the inside of that pig's car."

   "I can't," I cried, but it was a lie.  She was too good and I couldn't
hold it any longer.  My hips thrust forward as I shot thick ropes of cum
into the cruiser.  Betsy held my cock like a fire hose, aiming it at the
steering wheel, the gear stick, and the seat.  I was a fire hydrant in her
hands and she made sure she got my cum everywhere.  She finally released me
and I staggered backwards, into the street.

   "My God," I said, "what have we done?"

   "You just paid back that hundred dollars you owed me by helping me get
my revenge, Howard.  Thanks." She put her arms around my neck and kissed
me. I wanted to wrap my arms around her but before I could, the door to the
donut shop opened.

   "Hey!  What the hell are you two doing to my car?" It was the cop who
told me about Betsy.

   "What do we do now?" I asked her.

   "Run," she said.

   Twenty minutes later we leaned against the wall of an old apartment
building, trying our best to catch our breath.  I have never run so fast in
all my life, but if she asked, I would gladly run for another twenty
minutes.  I felt alive again.

   Again?  My God, I was truly alive for the first time in my life.  I
looked down at her and saw that wicked smile on her face.  It was the same
smile I had seen as she led me out of the donut shop.  She grabbed me by
the shirt and dragged my lips down to hers, kissing me with the passionate
enthusiasm that teenage girls seem to learn quickly.

   "So tell me the truth, Howard," she said after finally releasing me, "is
this the best fun you've ever had?"

   "The first time I had sex," I said, taking her hands in mine, "was with
Camellia Simpson in the wooden fort of our local playground.  She had her
little dog with her but she was afraid it would run off, so I tied its
leash to my leg.  While I was fucking her that little dog crawled between
my legs and started licking my balls.  It was the most mind-blowing
experience of my life.  Until now."

   "Well, Howard, you better buckle up, because you are in for the ride of
your life."

   "Oh really?  And just what do you have planned?"

   "Well for now," she said, grabbing my crotch and giving it a gentle
squeeze, "we go back to your place and fuck like bunnies.  Then tomorrow
you and I are going to do something...interesting."

   "Cool," I said.  I looked her up and down, sizing her up.

   "What are you thinking?" she asked.

   "I was just wondering what you would look like in a Cat Woman costume."

   The next day I slept in for the first time in years.  My night with
Betsy had been in a word, exhausting.  I tried my best to keep up with her
but she was insatiable.  I finally collapsed onto the bed, panting like I
had just run a marathon carrying a city bus, but she rolled me over and
climbed on top.  When she wasn't riding my cock she was grinding her pussy
into my face, her moans of pleasure cannoning off the walls of my one room
apartment.  It sounded like we were screwing in an amphitheatre.

   And then there was the foul language.  Not mine, hers.  She was
excessively expressive in bed, telling me in no uncertain terms just what I
should be putting in where, and how fast or slow I should be doing it.  I
was tempted to stick my dick in her mouth, just to get some peace and
quiet. In the end I passed out in self-defence.

   When I finally dragged myself out of bed at eleven I found I was alone.
Thinking she had left I rushed into the lounge room to see if she had taken
my VCR with her.  Instead I found her, standing naked except for a towel
around her head, scanning my collection of novels.  Betsy looked
incredible, her skin freshly scrubbed and white as milk chocolate.  She
must have heard me come out of the bedroom because she turned to me.

   "Interesting collection of books you have here, Howard.  They all seem
to be about horror in one form or another.  You planning on becoming a
world famous horror writer?"

   "Maybe one day." I walked over to her and kissed her lightly on the
neck. "I thought you left."

   "Why would I leave, Howard?  I haven't finished with you yet." She
looked up at me mischievously.

   "Finished with me?" I asked.  "What are you talking about?"

   "I decided to make your life interesting.  Starting right now.  Have a
shower and get dressed.  Then we're going somewhere." I started to ask
questions but I found myself being propelled towards the bathroom.

   "Okay, okay," I said.  I showered, shaved, sprayed, then walked back to
my bedroom to find her rummaging through my wardrobe.  She had put on a
pair of my pants and one of my shirts.

   "Here, put this on," she said, throwing one of my good suits at me.  She
reached back into the wardrobe and pulled out an old baseball cap, which
she put on, bundling her hair under it.

   "You've gotta be the sexiest boy I ever saw." I said admiringly, pulling
on my trousers.  "I think you might just get me to turn gay."

   "Don't you dare, not until I finish with your cock." She reached over
and gave my crotch a squeeze, making it difficult to get my fly up.  She
liked squeezing my dick, and I must admit, I found it quite agreeable too.
"Do I really look like a boy?" she asked.

   "Yes you do.  Are you in disguise?"

   "In a way.  Now hurry up, I'm hungry."

   I finished dressing and we went downstairs and onto the street.  I
noticed Betsy had pulled the cap down over her face.  It looked like she
was determined not to be recognised.  She took my hand and led me towards
the centre of town.

   "Where are we going?" I asked.

   "You'll see," she replied.  She dragged me to the church district and we
wound up in front of a large, impressive monument to religion.  Voices
uplifted in songs of praise emanated from within the sandstone and stained
glass edifice.

   "This is a church," I said.

   "Very good, Howard.  You really are observant, aren't you?  Now just
stand there and let me do the driving." Betsy kissed me lightly on the lips
and then slowly sank to her knees.  She quickly had my fly undone and
released my rapidly hardening cock from its hiding place."

   "Betsy, I really like the way you give head and all, but aren't you
afraid someone will see us?" I was getting that nervous feeling again. 
After all, here was a young woman giving me a blowjob on the steps of a
church.  I'm not a religious person but this felt wrong.  My nervousness
was rapidly being replaced by pleasure though.  She was talented, I don't
think I can emphasise that enough.  I was just giving myself over
completely to ecstasy when a loud voice shouted at us from the doorway to
the church.

   "Hey!  What do you guys think you are doing?"

   I looked over and saw a priest standing at the top of the steps.  Behind
him was what appeared to be his entire congregation.  I wanted to stop, I
really did, but it was too late.  Betsy leaned back, releasing me from her
talented mouth and stroked my rampant cock as I orgasmed, shooting my cum
into her open mouth.

   I realise now that to the people watching we looked like two men
engaging in oral sex.  But at the time all I could think about was Betsy,
and how she was sucking every last drop of cum from my body.  She gave my
cock one last kiss then put it back into my pants before zipping me up. 
She got to her feet and kissed me, sharing my taste with me.  I looked up
at the crowd and noticed they were advancing on us.

   "Run?" I asked Betsy.

   "Run," she agreed.

   Another twenty minutes of running and we were once again alone.  We
stopped at the entrance to a large shopping mall and I sat down heavily on
a bench, trying to catch my breath.

   "My God," I said between breaths, "you like living on the edge don't
you?"

   "Yup," she said, sitting down next to me.  "I told you I was hungry."

   "Yes, but in front of a church?  What if someone called the police? 
What if we got arrested?"

   "But we didn't, did we?" She looked me in the eye.  "Don't tell me it
didn't get you off, Howard.  You came so hard I thought you were going to
drown me."

   "Okay, I admit it did have some appeal." I grinned at her and she smiled
back.  "Now let's get some real food."

   We went inside and found the food court.  Betsy got herself a burger and
a coke while I grabbed a kebab and an orange juice.  We made our way to a
table in the middle of the floor and sat down to eat.  Betsy bit into her
burger and I watched as sauce ran over her chin.

   "Here," I said, handing her a napkin.  She wiped her chin and smiled at
me.  I imagined spending the rest of my life with this girl.

   "What are you thinking?" she asked.

   "Oh, just how cute you look with onion on your nose." I laughed as she
applied the napkin to her face again, trying to round up the rogue piece of
salad.

   "There, am I free of foodstuffs now?" she asked presenting her gorgeous
face to me.

   "Not yet.  Here, let me get it for you." I leaned over the table and
gently kissed the onion from her nose.  "There, now you're clean." We
finished our lunch and threw the wrappers into a nearby bin.  "So what do
you want to do now?"

   "I want to go on one of those," she said, pointing to a glass elevator.
They ran up the interior walls of the mall to a hotel on the upper floors.
The occupants could look out of the glass windows as they travelled.

   "Must be quite a view from the top," I observed.

   "Let's go," she said, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the nearest
one. We bustled inside and she pulled me through the crowd to the glass
window, so we had a great view as the elevator ascended.  When the car
reached the lobby of the hotel the rest of the passengers got out, leaving
the two of us alone.  A little old lady appeared at the door.

   "Going down?" she asked.

   "No," replied Betsy, "we already did that." She giggled as the doors
slid shut on the confused woman.  The elevator rose a few more floors then
Betsy reached out and hit the stop button.

   "What are you doing?" I asked.

   "Guess," she said and took off the cap, shaking her hair free.

   "Now?  In here?" I couldn't believe what she was intimating but it soon
became obvious that she was serious.  In a matter of seconds she was
completely naked.  I was standing in a glass elevator, stopped between
floors, with a beautiful naked girl.

   "Do you want me, Howard?" she asked, slowly running one finger over her
lips.  I started towards her but she shook her head.

   "You have to be naked first, Howard.  You can have me but you have to be
totally naked."

   What could I do?  A sane, sensible man would hand over her clothes and
start the elevator again.  He would take her down to the ground floor, give
her some money for food and shelter, and politely tell her they shouldn't
see each other anymore.

   But I was far from sane and sensible.

   I stripped and took her in my arms, kissing her deeply.  She took my
hand and placed it between her legs.  I could feel how hot and wet she was
down there.

   "Can you feel that?" she asked me.

   "Yes," I replied.

   "Then do something about it."

   I spun her around so she was looking out into the void.  She leaned
forward, placing her hands on the glass and pushing her arse back towards
me.  I placed my hands on her hips and slid into her.  Oh that sweet, silky
feeling, it was glorious.  I took her there and then, plunging into her
again and again.  It was the most incredible sex I have ever experienced,
even better than the night before.  I felt her shake and shiver as she
came, her fingers clenching at the smooth glass in front of her.  I watched
her long brown hair fly as she threw her head back and moaned.  The only
thing I didn't see was the elevator slowly move down to the floor below, or
the doors behind me as they slid open.

   It was a complete surprise when the police stormed in and arrested us.

   They dragged us downtown to a grimy little police station and read us
our rights, then charged us with indecent exposure.

   I posted bail and tried to pay for hers but she had already been
released.  I don't know who paid to get her out, but I suspect it was her
family.

   I went back to my home and my dull, boring life.  I never saw her after
that day, but I think it's for the best.  In the end she probably would
have killed me.

   But I like to think that somewhere out there is a man who should know
better, having sex with a gorgeous eighteen-year-old woman in a very public
place.

   *
   edited by Ruthie 

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