[Not sure what's going on? Check out "Muscle Show Pt. 01"]
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A day after the encounter with her grandson in the dark passageways under the arena, Betty sat in front of her vanity mirror. It was a bright, sunny morning and she had just dragged herself out of bed. She raised a brush to her silver hair and paused.
"Here's what you've done," she said aloud to her reflection in the mirror. "You... you...." She hit the mute button as she finished her thought. "You fucked your grandson."
She inhaled sharply. Who does that? She asked herself silently. Who would do something like that? What kind of person?
She sighed and closed her eyes, returning the brush to the vanity top. You, she remarked silently. You would. An image of JJ's magnificent, sculpted body reared up in her mind, followed by a vivid memory of her own plush body blazing and trembling with pleasure as his monstrous cock jacked in and out of her. Her belly twitched at the memory of the pleasure that had sizzled through her body and her deep groans. She bit her lower lip.
She hardly knew him, she argued with herself. She hadn't seen him in twenty years. He was a stranger, not her grandson. Just some hunk with a killer body and blue eyes that she'd fucked on a night out with the girls. Her head nodded up and down. Yes, she told herself. It wasn't like that. It was just a one-night fling. Something she deserved after years of dull matrimony to a series of cold, boring husbands.
Why not? She declared to herself in the mirror. Why can't I have a little fun? A little enjoyment? With some guy, she added, she'd met once. And never again. That was it, she resolved. Never again. It happened once, by chance, and it would never happen again. She closed her eyes and saw JJ's bulky, brawny body, his naked skin stretched taut over bulging muscles, arms thick as tree branches, beefy thighs sculpted like marble, his happy grin, his sparkling blue eyes. Only once, she repeated. A one time event. Now, turn the page. She passed the brush through her hair.
Less than a week later, on a bright sunny afternoon, the phone in the living room rang.
"Hey mom." It was John, her son who lived in Alaska. JJ's father.
She sat on the elegant chair next to the phone stand.
"Hi John," she replied tentatively. "What's going on?"
This was odd. She only talked to her far-flung brood a couple of times a year, almost exclusively on holidays.
"Uh," John said. "How you doing?"
Betty sighed. "Just tell me, John."
He paused and inhaled.
"Well, you know I told you about JJ? The bodybuilding and shows and stuff."
"Uh huh," Betty said, panic starting to creep up her neck.
"Well, wouldn't you know that rascal. He's gone and gotten himself into a little bit of trouble."
Betty raised her hand to her lips.
"What kind of trouble?" She asked.
"He's in Chicago." Her son paused again. "And.. well, mom... he's run out of money."
Betty sighed and her body relaxed. She settled into the chair.
"Okay."
"Yeah," John continued. "I guess he's not so good at budgeting. He did a show in Peoria and then went on to Chicago. Where... I guess... he realized his money was all out. No way to pay for a hotel. No way to pay for food."
"Okay," Betty repeated.
"His buddies helped him out," John said. "But they've moved on to the next show. He's stuck in Chicago."
"Do you want me to wire him money?"
John sighed. "I guess that would be the way. But, I guess he's also somehow managed to lose his i.d. He can't pick up anything I send through Western Union."
Betty's forehead wrinkled.
"Mom, you're only a couple of hours away. I was wondering...."
Betty's shoulders slumped. What was she to do? She couldn't just drive up to Chicago, find JJ, and announce that his father had called his grandmother and, voila, here she was - - the very same woman he'd fucked in a dressing room at the local arena. She thought for a minute.
"Fine," she said in a quiet, steady voice. "Here's what you do. I have a friend in Chicago. Give me his hotel and I'll ask my friend to deliver him some money."
"Oh wow," John gushed. "That would be great. I mean... if it's not too much trouble."
Betty tsked into the phone. "No, no trouble. I'll call her right away."
"Super," John replied brightly. "What's your friend's name... so I can tell JJ?"
Betty's eyebrows shot up.
"Uh...," she dragged out her response. "Would you believe it. She's got the same name as mine. Betty."
John chuckled. "That's funny. Two peas in a pod."
Betty offered a forced laugh. "His hotel?"
John gave him all of JJ"s information and Betty placed the phone back in its cradle. It will be fine, she reassured herself. She could just drop the money off at the front desk, turn around, and drive back home. JJ would be none the wiser.
She climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Best to change into something more presentable, she told herself. She ruffled through the clothes in her walk-in closet. A sensible pants suit should fit the bill. Instead, her eyes kept returning to a short, shiny black leather skirt. Something she had picked up on her last trip to New York.
"Hmmmmmm," she explained to herself. "That would make more sense for the big city. No need to arrive looking like a country bumpkin."
She pulled the leather skirt off its hanger. Yes, she clucked, the new silk blouse would really work with this. She plucked the blouse off its hanger. And, those beautiful patent leather pumps that her second husband had bought her in that Vegas boutique. Her mind drifted to the lacy bra and panty set she'd just picked up from Fredericks. A little racy maybe, but JJ would never know, and it would really boost her confidence.
By the time she'd spritzed on her favorite perfume and hooked the clasp of her nicest string of pearls, Betty looked more like she was ready for a night on the town than an emergency trip to Chicago.
Oh well, she hummed to herself. Nobody said you couldn't dress up to take a drive.
