2 comments/ 13494 views/ 1 favorites Men in Her Life By: 2Xwidderwoman "Sorry Callie, I cannot meet you after work today." "Come on Marva," the pleading voice on her cell phone comes through clearly, despite the noise in the parking lot around her. "I need to introduce you to this great guy. Charlie is perfect for you. You will fall head over heels in love with him the first time you hear his voice." "Nope, I can't do it. Tonight is Bryan's birthday party and if I don't do my share, Karen will never forgive me," Marva answers. "Oh heck, I forgot about that party. Okay, that's the only reason I'm letting you off the hook. But next weekend, I get you for Friday after work and I'll bet Charlie will take up your Saturday night." "Charlie? Charlie who?" Marva asks. "No more info, until you meet him," Callie answers, laughing at the frustrated growl Marva gives her. - - - Here she is and it was not her idea. Maybe, she should not have listened to her sister. Karen thought it would be a great idea to give their brother, Bryan, a surprise birthday party in his own apartment. Alright, okay, Karen promised to do the hard work, and pay for most of what they needed, order and pick up the food trays, shop for all the supplies and probably most risky, going to Bryan's apartment early enough to make sure it is presentable for the party, or at least make sure the bathroom is clean. All Marva needs to do is greet all the guests in the bar in the next block and like the child's game of "Follow the Leader," lead everyone to the apartment house, into the elevators to the fourth floor, and ring Bryan's doorbell. After that she will enjoy the party and get rid of the trash. Karen thought a "Bring Your Own Booze" party would be appropriate, because it is a frequent way to get-together among their friends, most of whom are young professionals and none of whom are exactly affluent. Their lifestyles are too busy for any of them to begin to think about collecting some of their modest, but growing, incomes into real savings or assets. Karen didn't think about the rule about not taking alcoholic beverages into a bar where liquor is sold by the drink. So, instead of being in the air conditioned comfort of the bar, Marva is standing in front of the bar, collecting bottles of liquor and coolers of beer into the trunk and back seat of Karen's car, plus trying to keep the party guests that aren't inside, from blocking the front door of the bar. They are waiting for the phone call from Karen to say that she has convinced Bryan to get dressed and take her to dinner, even if she has to agree to pay for it herself. When Marva finally agreed, it was her only requirement. She did not want Bryan to attend his own birthday party in cut off jeans and a muscle t-shirt, or worse, no shirt, as is his usual mode of dress when he is home alone, which may or may not be frequent. He does not voluntarily share much information about his private life with his sisters. After receiving the phone call, it does not take a great deal of encouragement to get help with the party food platters, and everything else, from the trunk of Karen's car. Several party guests have been waiting inside the bar at least since they left work more than two hours ago. There are other willing hands for the ice chests, drink mixers, shopping bags of disposable plates, napkins, and all the other party supplies that will eventually end up in the trash. In fact, most of her efforts are spent trying to hold the noise level down when the elevator doors open. But after ringing the doorbell and twenty people screaming "Happy Birthday," all she has left to do is enjoy the party, eat some of the snacks, and turn down all the offers of, "Hey Marva, you ready for another drink," although she tells everyone who offers that she does not drink. "So, you are Bryan's little sister, huh?" The late to arrive stranger asks, and then holds out his hand, "I'm David Wells. I didn't know I was coming to a party." Marva offers her hand and after a quick handshake, says, "Yes, I'm Marva Preston. How do you do David?" David Wells is a dark man, dark hair, dark eyes, and dark complexion, in his late twenties. He is a gregarious person, and can make a friend of almost anyone, when he wants to persuade them to buy what he is selling. He is often a bold flirtatious man, usually teasing every woman he encounters, confidently touching them in some way, either companionably putting his arm around them or holding their hand for a moment while he smiles at them as he passes along compliments. He is a successful salesman, given a product he can understand well enough to promote, and takes great care to make sure he is well groomed and fashionably dressed. "Ah-h-h-h," David Wells says. "So I finally get to meet "The Marvelous Marva"." "Marvelous Marva, where did you hear that?" She asks her question with a puzzled look on her face. "Sorry, I'm just catching up here. Bryan called me last week. He arranged for me to have a job interview with his company. I didn't know he was having a party." Finally understanding, Marva laughs, "Oh, what a coincidence. Sorry, I didn't recognize your name. I called most of his friends to tell them about the party." As they chat comfortably, David continues to look at Marva, enjoying the view. Marva is a small woman, in her early to mid-twenties, not really petite, but not far from it, just not an Amazon, like her older sister, Karen. She wears her dark straight hair to just below her ears, usually tucking the sides behind her ears, or occasionally using clips or combs to hold the sides away from her face. She has slim hips, but muscular legs, those you would see on an energetic person who runs or walks for exercise. Although her bust is probably average size, it is emphasized by her small waist. She is not a bold, out front, sales person like her brother. Instead, she can most often be found at the rear of the room, watching everyone or finding something to do to make her self useful. Almost everyone notices how fair she is, her skin is so light it is almost transparent. Even tiny blood vessels can be seen on the surface of her hands, arms, and any skin not covered by her clothing. It seems, David and Bryan have known each other, for several years. They worked together for two years, before David accepted a transfer to another city and Bryan changed companies. Now, David is hoping to go to work for the company where Bryan now works, as his best chance to move back to the city. Several times, over the next few hours, David's eyes are drawn to Marva. He enjoys her lively personality, as she deftly escapes the wandering hands of several of Bryan's friends and occasionally tries to do a small amount of hostess work, telling someone to go eat some of the food on several large trays spread around the apartment, or she collects a handful of trash to take to the kitchen. When everyone has finally made at least one round of the various food trays and had one, or in several instances, a few drinks, the gag gifts begin to make their way into Bryan's hands. One of the women gives him a tube of chocolate flavored body paint and offers to demonstrate. Bryan opens more than one package of flavored condoms and playfully throws them around to the guests. A plastic battery operated vibrator is presented to Bryan by a salesman from his office and two of the women are asked if they would like to borrow it, one of whom says only if Bryan holds it for her. One of the women admits she personally knitted the tie-on ball warmers and offers to tie them on any man who will demonstrate how they should be worn. The hot pink, sex organ, ice cube tray is a big hit, particularly by one guest who moans that it takes too long to freeze or he would use it on any willing partner in the room. The strawberry flavored edible underwear disappears from the box and no one will admit they took them. One of the men snatches the fluffy pink lined handcuffs from Bryan's hands and puts them on the nearest woman. It takes a while to find the keys, but she is good natured about it because all the men around her offer to feed her and hold her drink up to her mouth. As the evening advances, an occasional couple is seen walking down the hall, either arm in arm, or lips mashed to lips, headed toward the master bedroom, or the bedroom in the hall, as their hands move to buttons and belt buckles. Marva turns down several invitations as she tries to hide her amazement at total strangers offering a quick tour of the bedrooms, although those are not the words they use, or leaning over to whisper, "I need to taste every inch of your skin." Perhaps her easy blush convinces most men that she is not as experienced as the other women in the room. They may have heard Bryan mention his little sister, little being appropriate for size and now meeting her, little works for younger, too. She does look younger than the rest of the crowd, in fact, a lot younger. Bryan is thirty and Karen is a few years older than that. At least three times that David notices, Marva goes out to the balcony, down the hallway, or to the kitchen to take a telephone call from a cell phone she pulls from her jeans pocket. There is no way she could have a decent conversation with anyone, while standing in the living room full of loud voices, laughter, and even louder music. One of the times David sees Marva step out to the balcony, he starts to follow, but is stopped by David wanting to introduce his older sister, Karen. David, like most of the men in the room, has no interest in Karen. Anyone who watches Karen, for more than two minutes, discovers there is another woman very near and several times they are very affectionate, holding hands, or Karen has her arm around the smaller woman's shoulders. It takes little more than a glance to determine Karen's interest is in a same sex relationship. Karen is not really an Amazon. She is tall, certainly six feet tall and maybe an inch, but probably not two inches, more. Her brother Bryan is less than an inch taller than she is. Everything about her is tall or long. Long arms, long legs, long hair which reaches well past her shoulders, and long slender fingers any piano player would relish. She does play the piano, but not nearly as well as her younger sister, who despite her small hands, has a well developed reach that amazed every one of her piano teachers. But Karen has a voice that sends chills down the spine of a man. It is a deep, sexy voice. Most men, soon after meeting her, regret her sexual preferences. They would prefer to hear a voice like that whispering in their ear as they satisfy her obvious sensual nature. Some men have even gone so far as to brag they could turn her into a lover of men, rather than a lover of women. When David offers his hand to shake Karen's hand, Bryan introduces the woman standing beside his older sister, as his secretary, Cynthia Martin. She seems to know all the inside scoop on the company where Bryan works. She offers David a few quick suggestions to use when he appears for his interview on Monday. She hints that the company is gearing up for a large product release and is hiring additional salesmen so they can be trained and ready to sell on the product release date. When Marva returns from her most recent visit to the balcony, Karen stops beside Marva and leans over to say, "Cynthia and I are going home. You'll bring the car?" Marva nods at her older sister, as David walks up to stand beside her a moment. "So, Marvelous Marva, what's with the phone calls?" David asks the young dark haired woman he watched walk back into the room from the balcony. "Uh, it's a favor for my boss," she answers. She does not like to answer the question, or more particularly does not want to share information about the call, although there is no reason it should bother her. "Excuse me. Your boss calls you at eleven o'clock at night? Is that some new kind of harassment I'm not familiar with?" Marva laughs, "No-no. Actually, I was talking to a client. My boss and I have an agreement. The client did not finish his business because we had a bomb threat at the office today and had to leave the building for several hours. I agreed to take the calls until midnight, so I wouldn't miss Bryan's party, because my boss wanted to attend his daughter's music conservatory recital and I get two extra vacation days." "Hey, strangely, I believe you. That is too convoluted to be anything but the truth," David laughs and enjoys the young woman's blush, while she looks down at her feet, in an effort to hide her pink cheeks. "I'm sorry," David says, putting his finger under her chin, so she will look up at him. "I did not mean to embarrass you. I'm just teasing." "It's alright. I'm just one of those girls who blush easily," Marva says, and then does it again, because now, she is embarrassed by the attention of this good looking man. David puts his arm around Marva's shoulders and leads her a few steps down the hall. "Can you say that again? It's so loud in there," he jerks his head back, indicating the living room, "And I didn't hear what you said." "I said," Marva says too loudly for the less noisy hallway, and then lowers her voice. "I'm just one of those girls who blush easily. I thought I'd grow out of it, eventually. I'm still waiting for that to happen." They watch as a couple emerge from the nearby bedroom, both of them adjusting their clothing, while the man runs his fingers through his hair, and the woman pulls a tube of lipstick from her pocket to apply fresh color to her bare lips. "Well, Marvelous Marva, I think your blush is very attractive and I'm intrigued," David says, watching the young woman's dark blue eyes open wider. "What is with this Marvelous Marva? I've heard you say that before," she asks watching the couple rejoin the party. David leans a little nearer and surprises her when he softly kisses her on the lips, lingering a moment longer than a quick peck. He raises his head to look at Marva, and then lowers his head for a longer kiss, a not very gentle slide of his mouth from one side of her lips to the other, pressing them with the tip of his tongue. He finally answers her question, "Your brother calls you Marvelous Marva and now I know why. I need to kiss you again." He grabs her hand, pulls her into the bedroom the couple just vacated, and pulls the young woman into his arms, kissing her mouth, sliding his mouth along her jaw line, and then nibbling at the soft spot beneath her ear, making smacking noises, as if he is appreciating the taste of her. Marva puts her hands on David's chest and slowly pushes, he removes his arms from around her and says, "I don't mean to offend, but I've watched you laugh at every man here tonight and I wanted a little of your attention, just for me." She looks at the door, remembering he turned the lock on the door and says, "Well, I guess you have my attention now, but I really need to get back to the party." "Marva, will you have dinner with me tomorrow night? Or, if it's already Saturday, tonight." David asks. "I ... I don't know ...," she hesitates. "Look," he says honestly, "I'm only going to be in town a few nights. Please, I'd like to take you to dinner." Making a snap decision, Marva says, "Yes, alright, yes, I think I would enjoy that." "Good," David announces, "Sorry I took you away from your duties. Let's get back to the party." By one o'clock in the morning, Marva has taken all of the food trays to the kitchen and combined the few leftovers onto the smallest tray. By two o'clock, she has collected most of the trash and taken at least one bag of garbage to the big dumpster on the side street. It wouldn't be fair to leave all the work to Bryan, after all the party was for him. Anyway, it was part of her agreement with her sister. If Cynthia came to the party, Karen was going to apologize and see if Cynthia would accept. Karen was not sure what would happen if Cynthia did agree, but planned to leave the party early if they could get away. Shortly before three o'clock, Marva is closing the door after ushering the last couple from the room and is giving her brother a hug, wishing him an additional happy birthday, and telling him good night as she reaches into her pocket to retrieve the car keys, when she suddenly remembers handing them back to her sister. "Darn. Bryan, I let Karen get away without getting the car keys from her. Can I sleep in your spare room, or on the couch?" "Sure Marva, you can have whichever one David doesn't take," her brother responds. From across the room, David adds, "Take the bed. I'm fine on the couch if you'll find me a pillow and a blanket." Taking the other pillow from the bed and a quilt out of the linen closet, she puts them on one end of the couch, and tells both men, who are sitting around the dining room table with a bottle of beer in their hands, "Don't stay up all night." She returns to the bedroom, kicks off her shoes by the door, pulls off her jeans and crawls in the bed. - - - It is full daylight when Marva slowly awakens to someone's head between her knees as sexual thrills go up the sides of her hips. Before she can react to what she has never experienced before, the head begins working it's way up her stomach, stopping for only a moment to pull her halter top down to nuzzle her breasts, and then places his lips on hers, licking her as if she is delicious. As her eyes flutter open he works his way up farther, rubbing his stiffened cock across her lips as she opens her mouth to ask David what he thinks he's doing. With his hands holding her arms above her head and his knees clamped on both sides of her head, he begins pumping, each thrust going deeper and deeper until he is fully buried down her throat as he erupts, spilling his ejaculate down her throat. The final thrusts choke Marva, and she sees stars when she cannot get air through her throat, past his quickly deflating penis and she cannot get her arms free to push David away. She is fully awake when her cell phone rings just as David falls to the bed beside her, lying spread eagled as he whispers, "Marvelous Marva." Marva rolls off of the bed, grabs her jeans and escapes to the bathroom, where she opens the phone, mumbles something, at the same time she vomits into the toilet. "Good morning Marva, its Charles Tester. I let you sleep as late as I could. I need some information please." "'Kay," is the only sound Marva can mutter. "Hey, are you alright?" Mister Tester asks, finally listening to a toilet being flushed and Marva coughing. "I ... I don't ... he tried to ... oh, God." Insistent, he says, "Where are you? Tell me, Marva. Where are you?" "My brother's," she mumbles, coughing as additional gagging is heard, while she tries to bring something up from her already empty and heaving stomach. "Give me the address," he demands. "The address, Marva, give me the address," Mister Tester is almost shouting. "1201 Trenton, yes, it's 1201 Trenton." "Can you get out of there? Can you leave," he asks insistently. "Will he let you leave?" "I guess so," she answers. David did not seem like he was interested in anything beyond relaxing after his exertion. "I'm sending you a cab. Go outside, NOW. Do you understand? Tell me you understand. Go outside, I'm sending a taxi for you." "Yes, yes, I'm going," she answers. Sitting on the floor, Marva straightens her halter top, pulls it down around her hips, tugs her jeans on, pulling the legs up far enough to clear her feet, struggles to stand, and zips her jeans before trying to turn the doorknob. Opening the door an inch or two, she sees David is still on the bed, where she left him. Breathing through her open mouth, she quietly leaves the bathroom, slowly moving across the bedroom, bends to pick up her shoes and leaves the apartment. Rather than wait for the elevator, she takes the stairs, frequently jumping down two steps until she reaches the ground floor and bursts through the door, to run across the small entry and out the self locking front door as a taxi pulls up before the front door. Men in Her Life Ch. 02 This is the second of six chapters. Marvelous Marva's new fuck buddy offers all the attention she can handle. This is a long story, broken down into six chapters. The next chapter will be posted in a few days. * When Marva is finally awake, she smells coffee. The other side of the bed is empty, except for a clean folded t-shirt. She pulls the t-shirt over her head, not even bothering with her own clothes still in a pile in the corner of the room, and walks to the kitchen. Charles raises his head from the Sunday newspaper spread over the kitchen table and looks at her from the top of her head to her feet. "You look like a thoroughly fucked woman. I think I like you that way." "Charles ..." "Get you a cup of coffee and I'll talk. You do know, men don't like to discuss these things, but women seem to need to rehash it. So, I'll do it, this time." Putting the filled cup of coffee on the table, Marva tucks the t-shirt under her hips and asks, "Why are men such a hard ass about things women need?" "I don't know," he answers. "We're just wired different, I guess. I'm going to call you in a couple of weeks and repeat last night. Otherwise, I won't bother you." She looks up at him, "Just like that, wham, bam, thank you ma'am?" "Maybe it doesn't sound right to you," he explains. "But you don't know what you want, yet. And I do know what I don't want." "Charles, how old are you?" "Thirty-four," he answers easily, and asks her, "How old are you?" Marva looks down at her coffee cup and answers quietly, "Twenty-three." She watches him nod knowing she has just told him exactly what he was talking about. "My sister says I'm a prude. She says a man wants a lady in the parlor, a Madonna for his children, and a whore in his bedroom. She told me that I'm a lady, but I'll never be a whore." There is a long moment of silence before he speaks. For the entire time he stares at her. "And you think I'm trying to make you into a whore?" He asks the question, but does not seem to be offended. "I don't know. Are you?" Marva watches as Charles moves his head, tilting it from one side to the other, as if he does not know if the answer is, yes or no. Charles finally shakes his head, lays his newspaper on the table, puts his elbows on the table and buries his head in his hands for a moment. Then he leans back and looks at her, "I don't think I'm trying to make you into a whore. I may not be very good with all the words a woman wants to hear, but I get tired of all the puritanical ideas women have. They wear lipstick and complain if a man kisses those beautiful lips. They wear a dress that shows cleavage and are offended if a man looks at their breasts. I should probably stop there." "So we should wear a Mother Hubbard if we don't want a man to look, or a string bikini when we do want him to look?" She asks, not being facetious, but genuinely interested in his opinion. He chuckles and nods, admitting she is right to be skeptical. "No, just don't lie to us. Don't let us take liberties if you aren't interested. Tell us if you want us to touch you. Tell us to take you to bed and screw your brains out or tell us to make love to you. Just don't lie." Marva sits looking at him for a long time, and then she nods, "Okay. Charles, will you take me to bed and make love to me?" He jerks forward and stares at her, and then slowly leans back in his chair. He is silent for so long she wonders what is going through his head. When he finally speaks, she is not surprised, "No," he answers, quietly. But she is startled when he adds, in an even quieter voice, "I don't think I can do that. I want it too much." Marva stands and says, "I'm going to put my clothes on. Will you take me home, or should I call a cab?" "I'll take you home." - - - Sunday afternoon David Wells calls and although Marva is polite, she finally convinces him she will never go out with him. He does not seem to get the message, because he calls again Monday evening. Marva finally tells him, "David, I do not want to screw you. I do not want to fuck you. I do not even want to kiss you, much less even talk to you. Is that clear enough?" Her sister gives her a strange look as Marva folds her cell phone and walks out of the living room. Bryan calls ten minutes later and wants to know what she did to David. He says the man closed his cell phone, walked to the window, raised it, and then threw the phone as hard as he could. Marva repeats exactly what she told David and Bryan said he has never heard a woman be so blunt, but David probably deserved it. --- It is a hard week and neither Marva, nor her boss, Thomas Rowe, can figure out why. The copy machine in down for two days, while the repairman has some tiny switch sent by overnight delivery and then discovers that a second switch or connection needs to be replaced, too. Marva's boss accepts two new clients and Marva spends hours and hours setting up their new files, doing the work of the part-time high school student too, because she has a whole week off to study for her final exams. By Friday afternoon Marva and her boss are sitting in the reception area, just staring at the floor, trying to decide where they are going to put another desk, when Marva's cell phone rings. "Alright Marva, you promised you would go out for a drink with us after work today," her best friend Callie says. "Oh god, why did I ever promise you that?" Marva complains as Callie laughs, telling her to meet them at "The Hot Spot" for Happy Hour and "Don't be late. Charlie promised to come by." "Okay, okay," Marva agrees. "But I'm not going to stay long. I'm bushed and I'm taking the whole weekend to recover." At the end of the day, finally able to clean off her desk, Marva looks up as one of the men from the office upstairs steps into the reception area and says, "Marva, can I buy you a drink after work?" "Darn it, Wilson, I wish I could. I promised my friend I'd meet her at The Hot Spot. Would you like to join us there?" After getting directions, Wilson smiles, agrees to meet her and walks out of the office, smiling from ear to ear. Mister Rowe winks at her as he leaves, humming the Wedding March. He is a sweet man, but Marva is not fooled. She knows his opinion of the salesmen from upstairs. Her opinion may not be much different. She cannot recall seeing any of the salesmen being around for much longer than six months, eight at the most. Callie is one of the movers and shakers among a particular age group of the city's young professionals. She works for a public relations company and believes her business will increase as a direct result of her activity in encouraging networking among those in that age group. In addition to this Friday after work meeting for drinks and last minute arrangements of weekend dates, she and the manager of a trendy restaurant greet diners to one of the restaurant's party rooms for a pay-your-own-way two hour noon come-and-go buffet on Wednesdays for the same age group. The restaurant's Wednesday receipts are phenomenal, with as many as one hundred young professionals eating lunch on their expense accounts and collecting business cards. Wilson is waiting in front of The Hot Spot and opens the door for her. She introduces him to Callie and her friends and is sitting with a drink in front of her when Charles Tester walks into the bar. He sees her and falters a step, before walking to Callie, who is standing beside the buffet table, and gives her a hug. Callie grabs his hand and leads him across the room. "Marva," Callie begins the introduction. "This gorgeous hunk is my cousin, Charles Tester. Charlie, this is my best friend, Marva Preston." Charles gives a slight shake of his head and holds out his hand, "Nice to meet you Marva." "Yes, you too Charles," she responds, as she raises her eyebrows to ask, "What's wrong?" He gives another faint shake of his head and turns to shake hands after being introduced to Wilson, before going to the bar to get a drink. Wilson leaves his seat to go to the buffet and Charles sits beside Marva when he gets back to the large circular booth Callie has staked out as "her territory" for the couple of hours she and her friends will stay in the bar. "Mother did not go see Callie's dad this trip," Charles whispers, and then tells Marva, in a clear voice "You work for Thomas Rowe, don't you?" "Yes, I've spoken to you several times when you call Mister Rowe," she answers easily. He looks at her for a moment and nods toward the drink on the table in front of her, "Are you going to drink that?" She shakes her head, "No, Callie ordered it for me. I'm not staying very long." Without being too obvious, but making sure Callie can see, they exchange business cards making a big deal of borrowing a pen to add cell phone numbers to the back of their cards, as Charles says he needs to leave, he has another appointment. Just as he stands, he leans over and whispers to Marva, "Ditch Wilson. He doesn't polish his shoes," and then turns to leave, waving at Callie as he walks around the edge of the crowded bar. Thirty minutes later, when she is half-way home, Marva's call phone rings. "I need to see you and I don't want to wait another week," Charles says. "Oh, so you "need" to "see" me, is that what you said?" "No, dammit. I want to fuck you. You can come here or I'm coming to your apartment. Your sister might not like to hear your screams of pleasure, so you better come over here." "Charles ..." "NO! NOW! Did you ditch Wilson?" "Yes." "Then get your ass over here and get in my bed. I want your legs spread and I'm going to eat your pussy until you cum and rub that pussy against my chin." "Charles, I haven't had supper yet," Marva says, not really teasing him, but thinking about it. "I'll feed you after I fuck you. Alright?" He meets her at the front door of his house, dressed only in walking shorts, undressing her as he backs her down the hall. By the time he has her all the way back to his bedroom, his shorts are somewhere on the hall floor and he is pulling her underwear and pantyhose down, burying his face in her pussy as he pushes her back onto the bed. "Are you always in this big a hurry?" She asks, and then moans as he scrapes her clit with his teeth. "Oh lord, do that again," she begs. He stops long enough to tell her, "Talk to me. Tell me what feels good," and then opens his mouth pulling both of her pussy lips into his mouth, sucking, and then pointing his tongue to get it as far into her as he can. He is quickly replacing his tongue with a finger as he stimulates her, with his palm up and one finger inside her, rubbing back and forth against the "G" spot and pressing against the sponge as he tickles her clit, until she is moving in a rhythm that has her arching her back as waves of muscle contractions go up the inside of her thighs and settle on the inside of her pussy. He sits up on his haunches, shoves his thumb inside her and presses upward with each thrust, telling her, "Push against my hand. Push, Marva, push, feel your muscles clench. Push dammit, bear down, more." She feels tiny wet spots fall and cool on her thighs. Charles tells her, "Put your hands down here and hold yourself open as wide as you can. Do it, Marva. Now! Pull the lips to the sides." As quickly as she does, he increases the speed of his thumb going in and out of her. She feels the intensity of her climax then a flood of moisture splashing on her legs, her belly, and running down the crease between her buttocks. Charles moves his hand to cup her pussy, gently massaging her and tells her, "It's all over me. This time, when you feel the pressure, hold yourself open, I'm going to taste you." He moves down between her legs and starts all over, thrusting with his thumb, his mouth on her clit, raising his head only long enough to demand she hold the lips open while the climaxes build and build. Every time she climaxes, the amount of moisture increases. He tastes her. He licks her, sucking the tender tissues into his mouth. He rubs his face on her pussy and then does it again and again until she is pushing against his face, wanting more and more. Not realizing how much she is moving around, he pushes his cock into her, telling her, "I have to hold you down. Push, Marva, push against me, yes, yes, do that again. Oh my god, it's running down my legs." She feels his rigid cock inside her as his balls slap against her and the squishing sound of her wetness each time he slams into her. She puts her hands under her knees, holds her legs up and as far to the sides as she can, while his arms beside her shoulders tremble. "Squeeze the damn muscles around my cock. Fuck me, woman. Fuck me harder, pump it out of me." "God, I can't hold back any more," he yells and goes rigid as he explodes inside her. She feels the warmth of his sperm laden cum landing inside her. He pumps against her, slowing with his final few thrusts, his warmth spreading inside her and a shudder going down the muscles of his back. When he can finally raise himself off her, he sits back, brushing his hands up and down the insides of her thighs, and gently running his fingers through the dense hair between her legs as he talks to her, occasionally brushing across the tender clit, watching her jerk each time. "Do you have any idea how extraordinary you are? Men dream of a woman like you and I have you all to myself." He leans forward, kisses her tummy, and then sits back, looking at her. "The next time you cum like that, I want every light in the house on and I'm going to watch, just to see how far you squirt. God, you are amazing." Both of them laugh when her stomach rumbles. He lies on top of her for a moment, supporting as much of his weight as he can. "I guess I'd better feed you. I'd rather send a load of cum down your throat, but I don't think either of us wants a repeat of Saturday morning." He watches her face as she turns her head, remembering what David did to her. Charles puts his hands on either side of her face and tells her, "No baby, don't do that. He was rude, crude, and totally out of line. It was rape. I don't care what you want to call it. When you trust me enough, I'll show you how, but only if you want it. I want my mouth on you as often as you will allow it. I won't ask you to do something that you will not enjoy. Go empty your bladder. Then come back here. I haven't had my fill of you, yet." When she is back in bed with him, very slowly he bends his head down and kisses her. It is the first time he has really kissed her. He slowly slides his lips from one side of her mouth to the other, touching the corner of her lips with his tongue. He raises his head and does the same thing again. Moving slowly he pulls her into his arms and rolls to his side, touching his lips to hers, tasting each inch of her mouth, feeling the different textures of her skin, the sharpness of her teeth. The tingle when his tongue touches hers. As he enjoys the feel of her in his arms and his lips touching her, he can see caution on her face. It is not exactly fear, but she is concerned and he wants to reassure her. As he holds her, he can feel her stiffness, where moments before she was relaxed and squirming beneath him. Although she does not turn her face away from him, she is just barely comfortable with his kiss. She will relax more, if he takes his time. He will enjoy this woman. She will learn to kiss him in return, more boldly than she is doing now. She may have been kissed before, perhaps even very thoroughly, but probably not by a man, they were boys, wanting something from her, rather than wanting to give something to her. They did not take their time to show her they enjoyed kissing her. They probably had their hands all over her, searching for something they wanted, and they forgot to be gentle or give her the time she needs to relax and respond. He moves his mouth to each of her eyes, feeling her eyelashes tickle his lips and the soft brows as his mouth moves across them. But it is her mouth he wants. He brushes his tongue softly across her upper lip and then sees her tongue come out to do the same thing, soothing the tingle he left behind. He moves below her mouth, going from under her lower lip to the softness of her cheek and all the way to her ear and the soft skin below her ear, his breath soft against her ear, taking his time, letting her learn the feel of his mouth on her, feeling her earlobe against his mouth. But it is her mouth he wants her to share with him. As he lowers his head to press his lips to hers, he feels her arm go up to his shoulder as she pushes her upper leg between his thighs, moving closer to him. Yes, now she is interested in returning his kiss. When he brushes his tongue lightly across the seam between her lips, she parts her lips, opening her mouth for him. But he is not going to invade her. He is going to wait for her to invite him. He moves to the corner of her mouth and feels her turn her face, to place her lips against his cheek. Now he can take his hands from her face, to thread his fingers through her hair, to move her head so he can kiss her better. She has lifted her chin, searching for his mouth and is giving him access to the softness of her neck. He will taste her there, and he will go no lower, because it is always her mouth he wants. He touches his tongue to her lower lip and feels her breath on his face. She is taking shorter breaths now, her passion increasing, because he has taken his time to arouse her, too. Once more he returns to her lips, holding his mouth near hers, letting her feel his breath. He can pull her closer to him and feel her press herself to him, the softness of her breasts against him, as he explores her neck and then the softness of her cheek, before he returns to her mouth. She is open for him, waiting for him, and he will taste her, but only briefly, touching the softness inside her upper lip, her lips closing for a moment on his tongue. He is satisfied. He has kissed her as he has wanted to do since the day she got out of the taxi. This is a woman of passion, and she will soon learn how much passion she has. She may even learn to look at him when she returns his kiss. But for now, all he will do is hold her and allow her to relax. He tucks her head into the crook of his neck, between his jaw and his shoulder, and lies still as her breathing returns to normal. He will wait until she pulls away from him. He wants her to know how much pleasure there is in the feel of his mouth on her. When she is ready, she will want her mouth on him. - - - Near the end of three weeks, Marva has not heard from Charles. During those weeks, she does not call him, although the temptation is great. She is not sure what or how she feels about him. Her work days are busy, which makes the time pass faster and Karen is at home most nights. She and Cynthia are more settled in their relationship, but Cynthia is considering going back to school, which slightly frightens Karen. Bryan commiserates with her. He does not want to loose his secretary. Bryan comes to supper in the middle of the third week, bringing a shirt he wants his younger sister to cut the sleeves off of, to make a short sleeve shirt. He is excited asking for their congratulations, when he says Elizabeth has accepted his marriage proposal and says she wants a long engagement. Her parents have promised her a big wedding and she wants six sets of attendants. He symbolically wipes his brow when he says they have agreed on an expensive engagement ring and simple gold bands for the wedding rings. He even has a photo of what she wants for her engagement ring. "So, what color dresses do you girls want to wear. Elizabeth is leaning toward yellow, but is thinking about graduated shades of yellow, getting darker and darker going toward the bride. I made her say that at least five times so I could tell you." Men in Her Life Ch. 02 "Oh hell, Bryan" Karen complains. "I look awful in yellow and I'm going to be at the end because I'm the tallest, which means I'll have to wear the lightest shade." Marva cannot resist asking, "Callie and Elizabeth don't have a brother. Have you two talked about the men in the wedding party." Bryan shakes his head, "Not much. I think they have a cousin, but that's all she's said so far. I'm thinking about asking David Wells to be my best man. He's reporting to work at the beginning of next week." Marva looks into the kitchen and sniffs as if she is checking something on the stove and mentions, "I think I met their cousin, Charlie or Charles Tester. He's a client of Mister Rowe's." "Yeah, that's him, I think." David turns to her and asks, "What do you think about David Wells?" Marva holds up her hands, "You know what I think about him. But if that's who you want for your best man, you're welcome to him. He will be Callie's date, if Callie is going to be maid of honor." "Yeah, as far as I know. Alright, that's enough wedding shit," David says and then changes the subject. "I brought a movie for us to watch. Who is making the popcorn?" Near the middle of the movie, Karen calls for an intermission when her cell phone rings and Marva goes to the bathroom. When she gets back to the living room she looks down to make sure she zipped her jeans because both Karen and Bryan are looking at her strangely. She doesn't give it much thought until Bryan starts the movie again and leans over to ask, "Hey, Marvelous Marva, how's your love life?" She explodes out of her chair and Karen catches her as Marva grabs one handful of Bryan's hair. She screams at him, "Who the hell is this Parker that tells you I'm the hottest fuck in town and how many men have you told that to? That I know of, I've never fucked a man by the name of Parker, but maybe I should check my diary, just to be sure." She turns, walks down the hall, and slams her bedroom door. For several minutes she paces around her bedroom, sits down and picks up Bryan shirt, and then stands, throwing the shirt back on top of the sewing machine, and finally falls on the bed, dry eyed, but wishing she could cry and get it over with. Instead she turns on her television and watches the news. Halfway through the news, she turns the television off, changes to her nightgown, and crawls under the covers, going to sleep quickly, despite the sounds of gunshots and bombs as Karen and Bryan watch the remainder of the movie. The next morning Karen says Bryan wants Marva to call him. He will explain about the comment he made to David Wells and says he's sorry. He knows he should not have said it, but he and David were talking on the telephone while arranging for the job interview and David asked Bryan to set him up with a date while he was in town. Bryan says he jokingly said, "Hey, just ask my sister, Marvelous Marva." Instead of calling Bryan, Marva takes an early lunch and goes to Bryan's office. She has to wait in the reception room for a few minutes. He is on a conference call. When he comes out to greet her, she walks to him and on her tip toes, pulls his head down so she can kiss his cheek. She follows him to his office, places a bag with his shirt in it on his desk, and apologizes. "I'm sorry Bryan. I guess my nerves are on edge." "I know," Bryan nods. "I'm not sure what happened, but David is beside himself. He calls me at least every other day asking if you are still mad at him or if it is safe to call you yet." "I don't think I want to tell you what happened, but I do know I don't want to be in a room alone with him. Alright, that's enough said. Tell me who is this jerk, Parker, and what did he say?" "Marva," Bryan exclaims. "If I tell you, you gotta promise me, you won't say anything to him." "Yeah, yeah, I'm not going to pull his hair out by the roots," Marva says, trying to show that she is much calmer now than she was the previous evening. "But I'd like to know how he thinks he has the right to say things, like that, about me." Bryan puts a serious look on his face, "I don't think he has any right to say something about you, and what's more I should be horsewhipped for repeating anything he said. I am humbly sorry for letting something so ugly out of my mouth." Bryan tells her to turn around and look through the glass wall that allows Bryan to see most of the telephone sales people in the large central office. "You see that guy with the light brown hair, standing in the third cube. That's Randy Parker. He was at Boyle's at the same time David and I worked there. He was in here one day and saw that picture of you and Karen on my credenza." Marva looks behind Bryan and sees one of her favorite photos. Karen is on her knees, pleading with the much shorter Marva looming over her, trying to pin Karen's graduation mortar board on her head. "He asked which one was my sister and which one was my girlfriend. I told him both of you are my sisters. The one kneeling is Karen and the one standing is Marva. He said, "Ah, the Marvelous Marva. I heard she's one of the hottest fucks in town." Honest Marva, those are the exact words he used. He turned around and left my office. If that wasn't shatter resistant glass, I might have thrown him through it." "God, now what do I do?" Marva asks. "He's not going to stop saying it, is he?" Bryan shakes his head, "Probably not, he's one of those men who gets a saying inside his head and repeats it, until he learns a new one. He saw an old movie on television one night and for several weeks almost every sentence he said, started with "Jumpin' Jack Flash." When David called to say he wanted to come back to work here, I mean in this town, he wanted to know who else he might know that was working here. I told him, "Parker's here." David said something about, well, he knows Parker. He asked, like, "What's his favorite saying today?" and I repeated what Parker said, without much thought. But I had no idea he would say it to you." Marva looks at Parker again, before asking, "Would it do me any good to threaten him?" Marva asks, but Bryan shakes his head. He laughs, but continues to shake his head when Marva suggests she tell Parker that she will have his cock cut off if he so much as mentions her name and the word fuck in the same sentence. Bryan finally says, "I think he's already saying something else, anyway. If you say anything to him, he will just start all over again. Let it die down." - - - Friday morning, at the nearby high school practice track, one of the new walkers moves quickly and matching his pace to Marva, introduces himself as Richard Farnsworth. He jokes that he is not the famous actor, but thinks he's seen all of the man's movies. Marva recognizes the name and they chat for a full round of the track before Marva leaves to go home and shower before going to work. Friday afternoon, as Marva is leaving her office, her cell phone rings. "Does your pussy get wet when you hear my voice?" "Hello Charles," Marva tries to keep her voice calm and may even fool Charles. "Stand right where you are, I'm three blocks away." "How can you be so sure I want to see you?" She asks, stopping in the middle of the driveway. "You may not want me, but you need me to fuck you. Your need is only slightly less, than the need I have, to fuck you," his voice is husky and deep. "Look up, I'm driving into the parking lot and you better be undressed by the time we get to my house." "No, I think you should take me to dinner first," Marva says, speaking into her cell phone, looking straight at him when he stops his car beside her and lowers the passenger window. She does not take a single step toward his car. Instead, she licks her lips and stares at him. "Marva, it has been three weeks and I need to fuck you. I can't say it any plainer than that. I am your fuck buddy. I might think about taking you to dinner tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. Tonight, I need to fuck you. Why didn't you call me?" She takes a deep breath and looks at him, "I didn't know I was supposed to call you." "I am your fuck buddy. I'm not your boyfriend. I am not your suitor. There is nothing between us but fucking, no foreplay, no flirting, nothing but fucking. You call me when you want to be fucked hard, deep, long, and nasty. I call you when I can't go another day without the taste of your pussy in my mouth. NOW, GET IN THE DAMN CAR," he yells and folds his phone, staring at her as he puts it in his shirt pocket and pushes the button to raise the window. When she is seated in the car, he stares at her and growls "Buckle your seat belt." They go across town, neither of them speaking. Several times he looks over at her and pointedly looks at the buttons on her blouse, but she does not lift her hands to unbutton them. She walks into the house ahead of him, but turns to go sit at the kitchen table, carefully placing her small handbag on the table in front of her. He walks up behind her and puts his hands on her upper arms, lifting her to her feet. "GO!" he demands, pointing toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Marva, once again, sits down on the kitchen chair and yells, "NO!" He leans over her and says, "Go to the bedroom, undress, and get in my bed, or I will fuck you here on the kitchen floor. I don't give a shit which one." She stands and turns to him. "Charles, why do you do this to me? Can't you just be civil and ask me? Why must you command me like I'm your slave or nothing more than a whore for you to use and abuse?" He throws his hands in the air, mumbles something about women needing to learn that sex is not complicated, he walks halfway to the hall door, then turns around and comes back to her, taking her arm, and walking with her back to the bedroom. He takes care, but does it quickly, without resistance, removing her clothing and pushing her onto the bed, violently removes his own clothing and falls on her, thrusting his cock into her and pounding at her until she is mindlessly moving with him. When the first intensity has abated, he slows and continues to move in and out of her until he feels her first contractions, and he slowly stops, waiting, braced above her, his arms trembling as he looks down at her. He lowers himself, puts his arms around her and rolls over, pulling her on top of him. He reaches up and places his hands on the sides of her face, pulling her down for a slow moving kiss. He runs his tongue across the seam of her lips and then does it again until she opens her mouth to his exploration. After a few more kisses he allows her to roll off of him, but will not let her get very far away, holding her to him, her arm across his chest, her head on his shoulder. "I am obsessed," he says, just barely louder than a whisper. "I wake up in the middle of the night with my cock so hard it's throbbing. I drool imagining the taste of your pussy on my tongue." "You think you're the only one?" She laughs a nasty laugh. "I climax in my sleep and wake up to discover I'm in my own bed, alone." Charles gets out of bed, walks around the end of the bed, and takes his short robe off the hook on the inside of the bathroom door. He walks toward her, putting the robe around her shoulders and pulls his boxers on. "Come on, let's go find something to fix for supper." Marva follows him to the kitchen and sits down at the table staring out the kitchen window. He opens the freezer door, stands for a moment, then closes the door and walks to sit down in the chair beside her. After another a few minutes, Charles stands, goes to the kitchen cabinet and starts a pot of coffee, standing over it until it has finished perking. He pours two cups of coffee, places one in front of Marva, and then returns to his chair. "Thank you," she says. They are the first words she has spoken since she sat down. After another long silence, Charles clears his throat and takes another sip of his coffee. "Marva, can you take a few days off?" "Probably," she answers. "I haven't taken any vacation time this year. Plus, I have those two days from being on call for one of Mister Rowe's favorite clients." She looks up at him and grins. He smiles at her and says, "I want at least three whole days of your time. I want to take you away from here, some place where we can be alone. I just need you all to my self. It's selfish as hell, but I don't care. I need you." He looks over her head and she watches as the muscles in his jaw flex, relax, and flex again, as if he is bracing for something to happen he does not want. She answers him stiffly, perhaps not understanding, but willing to do as he asks. "Would you like me to call Mister Rowe and ask if I can take Monday and Tuesday off?" He nods, "Yes, do you mind doing that?" She shakes her head and reaches for her handbag, removing her phone. Charles stands and walks to the sink, washes his hands, and then starts taking bacon, biscuits, and eggs from the refrigerator, starting something for them to eat. She folds her phone, moves to the stove, and starts helping him with their meal. "Can you finish this? I'm going to throw a few things in a suitcase," he says walking away from her, not waiting for her answer. When he is back in the kitchen, she has their meal on the table and they eat quickly, hardly exchanging any more words than are necessary. "You go dress and I'll clean up in here," he tells her, turning his back to clean off the stove and put everything he can reach into the dishwasher. When she is back in the kitchen, he walks to the front door, checks the lock and collects his mail, tossing it on a small table beside the door, before turning off the kitchen light as they go into the garage. "I guess I'll take you to your car and follow you home. Can you put some casual things in a bag, while I wait for you?" He asks, in a voice calm and unemotional, unlike the intensity of an hour earlier. "Sure, I just need to tell Karen. I'll need half an hour, or so. You want to go service your car while I do that? Your fuel gage is almost empty." "Yeah, that'll work" he looks at her and grins. "I'll pick you up at your apartment in about that amount of time." He leaves her beside her car, making sure she drives out of the parking lot ahead of him and they turn in opposite directions. He is ringing the doorbell before Karen gets home, but Marva has written her a note. Her packed bag is beside the door. Charles picks up her bag and locks the door behind them, then stands calmly as they wait for the elevator. He is quiet as he drives across town. Occasionally he looks at Marva and if she is looking at him, she smiles. Her smile is a little shaky, as if she is nervous. As they reach the city limits, he asks, "Is there any place you would like to go, that's in a reasonable driving distance?" Marva, looking out the side window, turns her head at the sound of his voice. She shakes her head and says, "No, not really," and then turns her head toward the window again. Finally able to set the cruise control, he reaches a hand to her and squeezes her hand. "You know, one of the things that's wrong with modern cars is, we no longer have bench seats so a guy can drive with his arm around his girl. I think I'm going to buy a pickup for my next one. Some of them have bench seats and the arm rest can be raised up to the backrest. I'd like that." Marva laughs, "When Karen, Bryan and I were in school, we drove my dad's old pickup with all three of us in the front seat. I haven't thought about that in years. When Karen graduated, it was just Bryan and me. Finally, I drove that old truck to school all by myself. I missed them." "You're not afraid of me, are you, baby?" Charles asks her and holds his breath waiting for her answer. "No, I don't think so. I've never done anything like this. I guess I'm just a little nervous." "Well hell, I've never done anything like this either, so I'm nervous, too. But every time I'm near you, I feel like I need to rush and I'm tired of feeling like that. And then a couple of hours later, you are gone and I want you back for another hour. I told you, I'm obsessed." After a few minutes of silence, she asks, "Charles, why are we doing this? We can have time together if you really want it. All you need to do is ask me." "I'm not sure. I guess the temptation of letting you leave me and knowing I can call you back is part of it. I enjoy that I can dominate you, although I'll lie down and let you have command of me if that's what you would rather do. I don't even know if you have a nickname. I know what you taste like. God, I love the taste of you. But I don't think I've ever noticed if you wear polish on your toenails." She can't help herself. She laughs and continues to laugh, bending over until the seatbelt won't stretch any more. "Oh lord. We are a mess, aren't we? I know about the little scar on your right shoulder, but I don't know if you have any others." "Do you know that you have a large mole on the right lip of your pussy? I can feel it with my tongue. But I don't know if your ears are pierced. I was in the mall the other day, looking at the lighting and I walked by a jewelry store. They had this display of huge loops and I imagined you wearing them, and nothing else. But for the life of me, I didn't know if you could even do that, because all I've ever done is concentrate on one thing about you, your pussy. In the next couple of days, I'm going to have all of those questions answered. I guess that's what this is about." "And do I get to do the same?" Marva teases him, finally beginning to loose some of her nervousness. "Oh yes, please. I'll get down on my knees and beg you to touch every inch of me. I'll let you hold my balls and my cock and watch it grow hard because I can smell you beside me. I'll roll over and let you sit on my hips while you scratch every inch of my back." Marva gets very quiet when she asks, "Charles is that all we are? I mean, to each other, fuck buddies?" "I don't know. I've never had one before," he admits. "I don't think you have either, at least not at your age." He looks at her, listening intently to him talking. "I'm not a monk. I've had some pretty intense relationships, but nothing that lasted longer than a few months. I seem to frighten women away, or I'm not attentive enough. When I'm working hard, I can't give them the attention they seem to need, or I begin to feel smothered. Maybe I don't care enough. I'm not sure if that's something that comes to a man, after he's been alone for a while, or if it's something he has to force himself to learn. I just don't know." "The night ... that first night," she tries to explain. "I was going to dinner, I mean with Bryan, Elizabeth, and David. Elizabeth and I were in the back seat, talking. She said men don't get serious about a woman until she lets him know he is allowed to be serious. She said that a woman can get him in bed, get his attention, and then he will get serious. I don't think I like that very much." "I don't like it very much either, but she may be right. Men don't think as deeply, or as intricately as a woman does. When a man wants sex, he just wants sex. But I believe a woman thinks she wants romance, so she participates sexually. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle, for both of them." "So you need to learn to romance a woman and a woman needs to learn to want sex," Marva says, watching him nod. However, he surprises her when he says, "Men like romance, too. I enjoy being teased. Mercy, you tease me." "I do not!" Marva declares. "Oh yes you do. You think about how you stood beside the car this evening and looked at me. I was melting inside. You licked your lips and I imagined you licking my cock. You walked in the house and sat down in the kitchen as if you were going to defy me. I almost picked you up. I was going to throw you over my shoulder and take you back to my bedroom, like a macho caveman claiming his prize." Men in Her Life Ch. 02 After two hours, most of it spent in silence, with the radio playing soft music, they are on the outskirts of the nearest large city. Charles points out a billboard and asks, "How about an Embassy Suites, or a Holiday Inn? We can keep going, but it's not going to change the choices." She answers easily, "You choose. I'm easy, as long as they have a good pillow. I can sleep anywhere." He chuckles, turns into a large hotel, stopping under the portico, and tells her, "I am not taking you to a hotel so you can sleep. I want your undivided attention and I'll give you mine." "Yes Master," she says and watches him jerk his head to look at her. "Marva," he says, in warning. "Ugg, you brute, me woman" she adds and giggles when he is unable to reach her. Instead he places his hand on her beast and holds his hand against her, softly squeezing and opening his fingers. "Charles," she says, slightly out of breath. "I know baby, that's why we are here. Something that delights every grown man alive and I don't even know what your nipple feels like against my tongue." He looks at her for a long minute, her head against the back of the seat as her breathing slows and grows deeper. "You sit here. I'll register and come back for you and the bags. Can I have three nights with you?" She raises her head to look at him and nods, "Yes, I would like three whole nights with you." - - - When they walk into their suite, he continues on to the bedroom, stopping only long enough for a thick towel from the bathroom, which he tosses on the bed and turns, to once again strip off her clothes. He turns the television on, throws the bedspread, blanket and sheet to the foot of the bed, and pushes her to the bed, picking up the towel. "Lift your hips. I don't think they have rubber sheets on these beds." Only after he has satisfied their immediate needs, does he allow her to open her suitcase. He rolls over on his stomach and watches her move around the room, taking her shampoo and cosmetics into the bathroom. He does not stop her when she does the same to his suit bag, hanging his shirts and pants in the small closet area and putting his robe and shaving supplies in the bathroom. When she has satisfied herself that the domestic chores are done, she walks to the bed, leaning over him, rubbing her hands up and down his back. After a few minutes he sits up, pulls the t-shirt over her head and pulls her down on top of him. "How is it that you know so much about me, and I know so little about you?" He asks, not sure if she even knows what he is talking about. She rests her cheek against his chest, "Do you mean the robe in the bathroom, or the shirts to one side and pants to the other?" When he nods, she says, "I suppose when you like someone, you notice more things about them, than you would about someone you don't care for." He puts his hands on her face and lifts her head. "Marva," he begins, using the most serious tone she has ever heard in his voice, "Do not fall in love with me. I am not the kind of man you need." When she closes her eyes, he demands. "Listen to me. You need a man who is domesticated, wants children, a home, and a loving wife. Do not fall in love with me." Matching his tone, she says, "I'm not sure you can command that of me. You don't know what I want or need and I don't think you even know what you want or need. So, don't overstep your bounds when you make those decisions for me." He blinks his eyes, looking at her. He has never heard her say anything like this before and wonders what else he has missed. He rolls over, leaving her lying beside him, gets up, turns off all the lights, and then goes back to the bed, pulling her into his arms, whispering, "Sleep for a little while, because I'm going to wake you up with my mouth on your pussy and I may do it a second time, until I have all I want of you." "And then you are going to show me how to do that for you, aren't you?" When he does not answer, she pushes her hips against him. "Charles, answer me," she demands. "You will show me what makes you feel good, won't you?" It takes him a full minute to answer and his voice cracks as he says, "Yes, I will show you." - - - Marva awakens with her first climax, having dreamed she was holding herself open for his mouth, only to discover it was not a dream. Charles remains between her legs as he works his way up her body, brushing his cheeks against the softness of her belly and kissing his way up the deep valley between her breasts, leaving a trail of moisture up the center of her body that turns to chills as the cooled air of the room flows across her. With his elbows propping him up, he places both hands around one breast and moves his tongue across the soft nipple. Over and over he brushes the nipple, finally drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it, turning it into a hard nub he gently scrapes with his teeth. As he works on her breast she can feel, deep within her, the resulting electrical tug of his lips and she tells him about it, feeling him nod as he lavishes her breast with his mouth and slowly moving tongue. Marva puts her hands around his head, threading her fingers through his hair, pressing his mouth closer to her, and arching her back to raise her breast to him. He leaves one wet breast open to the cool air of the room and goes to the other breast, brushing his flat tongue aggress the nipple. He sucks the other nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue across the hardened nipple, feeling it grow stiffer and longer. He continues to lavish her breasts as her body begins a slow movement, thrusting her pelvis against his chest, rubbing herself on him. He raises his head for a moment, "Cum for me baby, push against me, feel your muscles squeeze, relax, and squeeze. Cum for me, show me you can do it, while I show you how much I want you." He returns to her breast, opening his mouth wide, taking as much of her breast into his mouth as he can, as her movements become faster. She twists her hips, moving in a circle, rubbing herself against him. Suddenly, she lowers her legs and arches her back as her body goes rigid. He feels her muscle contractions against his chest as she releases a low groan that lasts until she must stop to take a breath. He moves to the other breast and begins to suck, stopping only long enough to tell her "Do it again. Push down, rub me, do it, Marva, move with me, cum for me." Understanding his instructions, she raises her knees and begins the slow thrusts of her pelvis, moving against him and from side to side, rubbing him, squeezing and relaxing, and then squeezing again. The next climax is quicker and stronger. Her legs jerk down, beside his hips, her back arches, pushing her breast into his face as the muscle contractions erupt and small droplets of moisture are pushed out, coating his chest and running down to pool under him. Her voice moans, going higher and higher as the muscles throb harder and then begin to lessen. She pants, her breath coming in small short gulps of air. He feels her diaphragm moving beneath him, and smells the tart sweetness of her. His balls tighten and he wants to explode, but forces himself to wait, he must feel her heat, if only for a few moments. With one hand on each of her breasts he moves down, using his tongue to clean every inch of her cum from her pussy, sticking his tongue in her and cupping it, as if it is a spoon scooping up every last drop. He sucks and pulls the outer lips of her pussy into his mouth and growls, the vibrations going all the way through her and she jerks with the sensations. Charles slowly runs his tongue from inside her, up and over the sensitive clit, hearing her whimper with the pain and pleasure of his ministration. He does it again and again, lightly brushing across the clit, feeling her jerk every time his tongue goes across the clit, but he does not stop, despite his own desire to spread his cum on her thighs. Brushing across the clit with his tongue, he stops a moment and sucks the clit into his mouth as gently as he can and begins to flick it with his tongue, faster and faster, sending her into a frenzy of full body jerking as she pumps her hips up and down, her arms and legs flailing and thrashing and her shoulders rising off the bed. Marva puts her hands on his head, pushing her body against him mouth, fucking his tongue and he does not stop while his own intensity builds, threatening to erupt each time his tongue touches the clit. She shares another strong climax with him, falling back to the bed, raising her hips and jerking up and down. And then there is another, this one stronger than the last one, and another, still building in intensity. "Fuck me Charles, oh god, fuck me," she pleads. Charles kneads her breasts and rises to thrust his cock into her, finally able to feel her intense heat, sliding in to grind his pelvic bone against her. He thrusts hard, slamming into her, hitting against her cervix, and does it again and again, building up the speed as she climaxes around him, the muscles continuing to contract, while he holds himself above her. She talks to him and pulls him deeper into herself, her wordless pleas a continuous groan and whimper. He slows and gently thrusts into her for a few strokes, trying to control his own release and then builds the intensity until he feels her muscles contract around him, squeezing and pulling him and still he thrusts into her, his balls burning and almost painful each time they slap against her. He cannot hold back, he closes his eyes and strains as he moves against her, his arms are trembling, the muscles burning from holding himself above her and holding her down. He slows down, to try to relax but does not cease the onslaught against her. Unable to hold back, he feels his balls tighten and the head of his cock growing and burning as if it will burst and suddenly, he is in her, she is squeezing him and he pumps his cum into her, her heat and muscle contractions pulling it from him, his head jerks down, again and again at the release of his sperm into her hot wetness. He almost falls on top of her, just barely catching himself enough to fall to the side, his face buried in her hair on the pillow beside her head. With his cock still inside her, he feels the aftershocks of her body shaking multiple climaxes. A chill rolls down his backbone, he shudders and holds her, feeling his cock going soft, wishing he could have lasted for another hour as her body continues to twitch and his arms tremble as they hold her heated body to him. "Oh my god," she whispers as he brushes her hair from her face, her breathing still labored. "Oh my god," she repeats as his hand moves gently down her arm, chills forming wherever he touches. "Oh my god," she says again as his hand goes between them to rest on her breast as a shudder goes down her back. "Oh my god," she moans as his now soft cock falls out of her pussy. "Oh my god," she pleads as her mouth finds his, moving across his lips, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth. She moves her mouth to the softness of his neck, licking the salty sweat from his skin. Charles rolls over, pulling her on top of him, her knees falling to rest between his when he opens his legs, the heat of her pussy resting on him. She slides down, her mouth going from one side of his chest to the other. She buries her face in the dense hair on his chest, rubbing her chin and then her cheeks against him, her tongue seeking his small male nipples. She lavishes first one, and then the other with her tongue, tries to suck them into her mouth and when she cannot, she puts her hands on him, pushing his skin and flesh into a peak, sucking his nipple into her mouth as her tongue goes around and around his now hardened nipple. She moves to the other side and does the same, forcing his flesh into a peak, running her tongue around the nipple and sucking it into her mouth. He talks to her, "Taste me, baby," as she moves farther down his body, following the trail of masculine hair down the center of his body. "Do you taste yourself on me?" he asks her. "Can you taste your cum all over me?" She nuzzles her face in the hair around his cock, slowly, tentatively putting her hand around the now softened length of him. "That's right baby, hold me in your hand. Feel the heat you shared with me." She squeezes a few times and he says, "Run your tongue up the length of my cock. Feel the blood vein, place you tongue against me, feel my blood pulsing." She continues to hold him as his cock stirs and grows warmer in her hand. "Move your fist up and down slowly. Show me how warm your tongue is." She moves her fist down and places her tongue against him. "Oh yes, baby. Take just a little of my cock into your mouth and suck. Gently please, don't suck too hard, save that for later." Marva is not sure what she is supposed to be doing, but she enjoys the feeling of his cock in her mouth. "Lay my cock on your tongue. Let me feel the heat of your mouth." Continuing to move her hand up and down, she sucks lightly on the head of his cock. As the foreskin is pulled away from the reddened head, she licks across the head, feeling the small slit. She stops moving her tongue for a moment, pressing the tip of her tongue into the slit as a tiny drop of pre-cum emerges. She captures the liquid on her tongue, rubs it against the roof of her mouth, mixing it with saliva to spread it around the head of his cock, her rough tongue agony and ecstasy to him. He remains silent as she explores him. She cups his balls in her hand, softly feeling each one move within the sac. He feels her tongue brush across the rough skin and although it is agony for the recently tortured tissues, he does not stop her exploration. For a moment she rests her cheek on his thigh, he can feel her breath waft across his cock, going up his lower belly. He feels her shiver, the coolness of the room, so welcome earlier, is now sending chills across her skin. "Hey baby, come here, let me warm you." He raises his shoulders and puts his hands under her arms, pulling her up to rest beside him. He sits up long enough to grab the corners of the sheet and blanket, spreading them over her and himself, holding her against his side. Charles brushes her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, as he has seen her do so many times. He kisses her on the forehead, each eye and then rests his lips against hers. His lips are tender from the abrasion of ministering to her hair roughened pussy lips. The softness of her lips is a pleasant feel to him. He moves across her mouth, dragging his tongue across her lips. Marva opens her mouth and runs her tongue across his lips. "I can taste me on your skin." "So you can," he whispers. "It is ambrosia to me," he tells her. "There is not a sweeter or more enticing taste than an aroused woman." He lets her warm up for a short time, and then tells her, "Marva, baby go empty your bladder and then come back here. I want to hold you." She does as he instructs and he does the same, crawling into the bed beside her. He holds her, feeling her breathing slow and deepen as she falls asleep. He does not move his arms from around her, but he does not close his eyes to sleep with her. His eyes are open for a long time, how long, he does not know. He simply knows he does not want to let her leave his arms. Men in Her Life Ch. 03 This is the third of six chapters. Marva and her buddy learn about each other, and a new man enters her life. This is a long story, broken down into six chapters. If you would like to read the previous chapters, click on my ID above. Enjoy, 2Xwidderwoman * For perhaps the first time in his life, Charles awakens on his back, with a woman between his thighs and his cock in her mouth. He is not a novice to receiving a blow job. However, his experiences are with practiced providers, he cannot think of them any other way. Many women perform fellatio on a man because they think it is expected of them, not because they enjoy it. Most women refrain from swallowing, keeping something handy so they can spit the ejaculate out. Or if they do swallow, they make a face to show their dislike of the creamy substance he has heard described as similar to snot or warm sour cream. He knows some men call their semen, jizz, but he does not care for the word. However, this experience is far beyond anything he has ever known before. Marva is gentle and steady, her small hands have strength, beyond what he would expect and her mouth is warm and soft. She is not using her teeth, nor is she rushing through her exploration of him. At first he thinks it is a dream and he does not want to move. When he realizes it is not a dream, he cannot move. It feels too good. Lying still, with his eyes closed, he feels her warm hand around the shaft of his cock as her mouth goes gently up and down pulling the first few inches of his cock in and out of her mouth, going across the corona, her lips held tight as she moves over the ridge. She stops for a moment, with her hand at the base of his cock, the foreskin of his shaft pulled down from the head and swirls her tongue around and around the head, passing the sensitive spot underneath the head of his cock where the foreskin is attached. His hips jerk, each time she touches that spot, he cannot prevent the jerk and he hears her soft full mouth chuckle when he does so. Ah ha, she has done some reading or some research and knows what makes a man feel good. She knows where the sensitive places are and she knows a gentle touch is better than rough treatment. He feels her lift his balls with her other hand, cupping them and then allowing them to gently fall down, lifting then again, her hand slowly opening and closing as she manipulates the balls inside the sac, her thumb rubbing across the top of first one ball and then the other, moving the flexible sac with each stroke. Her hands are everywhere, slowly stroking the seam between his leg and his groin on one side, moving up and down his inner thigh, and then switching the hand on his cock to stroke the other leg, thigh and groin seam. And she is still going up and down the shaft of his cock, taking the head of his cock as far into her mouth as is comfortable to her. She takes his cock out of her mouth and turns her head sideways, sliding her very wet tongue along the great vein on the bottom of his cock shaft and then back up to lick around the head of his cock, the tip of her tongue pressed against the tip and her upper lip moving down across the corona and brushing her rough tongue across the slit, collecting another small drop of pre-cum juice. Each time her hand comes upward, the foreskin slides up around her hot tongue as her tongue goes around and around inside the foreskin never leaving the head of his cock, passing the seam under the bottom of his cock head, causing a spasm to the muscles along the inside of his thighs and his lower belly. He feels his balls growing and tightening and does not want this to end. He feels the pressure in his thighs, the tightness of his muscles, the clenching of his jaws. Then he feels the pressure of her sucking on his cock, pulling him into her mouth and lowering her head sucking a little harder as she raises her head, repeatedly bumping across the ridge below the head of his cock. He wants to talk to her, but he doesn't want to distract her. She is working on him, sucking and pulling his cock into her mouth, raising her head and lowering it again to suck as her top lip brushes across the corona and bumps over the ridge as she raises her head again. Slowly he moves his hand to her head, threading his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face, feeling it fall again and slide across his skin. Taking his hand away, he uses his other hand on the other side of her head, brushing her hair back. He has to warn her, he cannot let it be a surprise if it is something she does not want. "I'm going to cum, baby. It's going to blast in your throat." He feels her nod her head as she sucks harder while he slightly lifts his hips, grits his teeth, and feels the first small spasm as a small amount of his cum lands in her mouth and he feels her tongue move and throat contract as she swallows. He begins to groan, and then there is another spasm as more cum jets into her mouth and another throat contraction as she swallows it and several more spasms blow additional cum into her mouth as her movements begin to slow. She sucks cum from him, pulling it into her mouth as it slides down her throat. No longer moving her head up and down, she rests as his hot slowly softening cock lies on her soft tongue. She does not move, simply holds his heat inside her mouth as she has held his heat inside her pussy. She swallows several more times, her tongue moving and her cheeks tightening around the head of his cock, each one sending a shock through him. He cannot move. He may never want to move again. The feeling is too wonderful. Slowly she crawls up to rest on top of him as his arms go around her, holding her to him. "I'm sorry Charles," she says, her voice full of tears. "I couldn't take it any deeper in my throat. I don't know how. Will you teach me?" "Sh-h-h, sh-h-h," he soothes her, rubbing his hands up and down her back. "Oh my, baby, it was wonderful. I've never had ... I don't think it could ever be any better." He puts his hands on her face, holding her still for his kiss. "Why would you think I would want any more than you want to give? Lord, have mercy, where have I failed to make you understand it is about the pleasure you receive from me and that you give back ten fold." He rolls her over to rest beside him. "God what a fool you must think I am." She lies quietly beside him, her hand brushing across his chest, from one side to the other, stopping a moment as a finger goes around his small male nipple and then doing the same to the other. She hears him chuckle when her stomach rumbles and then she is laughing as his does the same. "I'll scrub your back, if you'll do mine," he says and feels her hand grow still on him. "But I need to stay right here for just a little longer. I feel too good to move." "I've never taken a shower with a man before," she admits. "Good, at least I'm the first for one of your experiences," he teases. Eventually, he can stand beside the bed and pulls her over to the side, putting his arms under her and lifting her, as she squeals in surprise. "Be still. I'll drop you," he says as he walks across the room, closing the bathroom door with a kick of his foot and stepping into the shower, still holding her in his arms, finally allowing her to slide down his body. Through the noise of the water drumming inside the shower curtain, he tells her, "There is a good breakfast here, or we can go out for something." "Here is fine," she says, "Then we can come back to our room and take a nap, watch television, or just do nothing." "You don't want to go somewhere or do something?" He asks, surprised. "We can find something for tourists or I'll even go shopping with you." "I don't shop," she responds as she steps out of the shower, grabs a towel and starts drying his back. "What do you mean, you don't shop? All women go shopping." She shakes her head, "I don't." She wraps the towel around her head, rubs vigorously, finishes drying off, brushes her teeth, takes her pill, and then opens the door so the mirrors will clear. She combs her hair and walks out of the bathroom, leaving it to him and begins to pull underwear and clothing out of the drawers under the television. He walks out of the bathroom, still dripping and looks at her. "Marva? What do you mean you don't go shopping? Very slowly she says, "I-do-not-go-shopping. I know my sizes. I buy most of what I need online and I make the rest." She holds up her blouse and turns the collar seam toward him, "See no store or manufacturer label," and then she pulls the blouse on and begins to button the front. He does not doubt her, but he walks to the closet and looks at the two other shirts hanging there, finding no labels. He even looks inside the waist of her jeans and finds no label. Finally he turns around and looks at her, his hands hanging down at his sides, shaking his head. She stands in the door of the bathroom, watching him shave, tilting her head from one side to the other, enjoying something she has had little exposure to. She tells him she cannot remember her father shaving and her brother uses an electric. She does not leave until he has finished shaving, rinsed his face, and she winces as he splashes on some after shave. She watches him button his shirt and explains why the buttons on a man's shirt are on a different side from the buttons on a woman's shirt. He looks at her curiously, watching the animation on her face as she talks. He watches her check her cell phone for messages then she folds it and puts it in her pocket, pulls her wallet out of the bag, slips it into her hip pocket and stands by the door, waiting for him. Accustomed to women taking time for makeup, hair dryers, checking handbags, applying lipstick, writing things in notebooks, and other superfluous needs, he is surprised to see she is so quickly dressed and ready to go. As they walk down the hall she takes his hand and walks beside him, but does not talk. She stands quietly looking around as they wait for the elevator. They find a quiet table for their breakfast and she tells him to get their coffee, she will get their breakfast from the grill. She carries both plates in one hand and stops for utensils and other needs at a nearby table, placing his plate before him as if it is something she has done many times. When she finishes her meal, she sits quietly after asking if she can get anything for him. He watches her face as she laughs at two families while the children make friends and chase each other around the large tile floor of the open area with a four floor high roof filled with skylights. All the while they sit he sees her foot tapping to a piano player across the room, playing one fast paced piece of music after another. Occasionally she winces and looks at the player when he plays what Charles thinks is a sour note. - - - For the remainder of the morning, they lie around, nap, and watch television. He awakens when she is unbuttoning his shirt and spreading it open, exploring his chest, tracing several moles on his chest as if she is playing connect the dots, remarking that she is going to memorize the locations and see what kind of picture they reveal. When she unzips his pants, he holds her hands, but she threatens to sit on his hands if he doesn't let her do what she wants. "And, good gracious, be still, you wiggle like a worm and interrupt my concentration. I can't keep track of you and what I'm doing. How else will I learn if I don't ... well, it's not practice, but I like this. It's the only time I have you completely in my power and you can't do anything but lie there and accept it." Twenty minutes later she is nuzzling his neck, whispering, "I'm going to bottle the smell and taste of you and sell it to women as perfume. I'll get rich and all of them will want to know my secret." A moment later he hears her in the bathroom and he opens his eyes when a hot wet hand towel is placed on him, covering his cock, his balls and his thighs. She lets the towel rest on him for a moment, and wipes him off, tossing the towel halfway across the room then jumps onto the bed, curls up beside him and pulls the covers over their heads. Lord, she is proud of herself and Charles is so confused he cannot think straight, so he doesn't think, he simply enjoys her, accepts her hands and mouth on him, tastes her, fucks her, feeds her, holds her, and has no idea that by midnight he is making love to her. - - - They do little more the next day than they did the previous day. Sometime in the late afternoon they have finally caught up on their sleep and can hold a conversation, but often lapse into silence as they sit around the front room of their suite, simply enjoying that there is another person in the room, reading the hotel's complimentary newspaper, plus a book left in the room which describes the city's tourist attractions. "Did you find anywhere you want to go?" He asks her, watching her carefully turn another page in the book, glance at both new pages and read one small place at the bottom of one page, before she turns another page. "No, this is all tourist stuff," she answers, looking up at him. "I thought I might find a nature walk or something. I need to go walk." "Walk? Do you mean you need to get out of these four walls, or something else?" He asks, as if he does not understand. "Yes, I need to move around" she answers, moving her shoulders as if they are stiff. "I go for a walk most mornings." "Not around your neighborhood?" He says, in warning, just to make sure she is not taking those kinds of risks. "No," she shakes her head. "I go to the school. There's a guard and the lights are on at five." "Five, like five o'clock in the morning?" "Yeah, before it gets hot, but it's cold in the winter. Br-r-r," she grins at him. "Sometimes I go to the mall in the winter." "At five o'clock in the morning? That's when you go to the mall?" He is beginning to understand and is now teasing her. "No silly," she exclaims, jumping up and coming to him, jerking the newspaper out of his hands as the pages fly across the room. She sits on his lap, facing him, her knees spread and resting beside his hips. She puts her hands on his cheeks and kisses him. "The mall is not open at five o'clock in the morning. But they do open at seven." He puts his arms around her, pulling her to rest against his chest. "How far do you need to walk? I'll go with you." "Five miles," she says quietly. He puts his hands on her shoulders, pushes her back and bends down a little to look at her face, "Five miles? Good lord, no wonder." "No wonder what?" "The amount of strength you have in your lower body. When you climax, you sometimes lift me off of the bed." Marva blushes deeply and exclaims, "I do not! You're what, two hundred pounds? I can't lift you." "Quite a bit more than that, but yes you do. You arch your back, put your feet on the bed, lift your pelvis, and actually raise my knees off of the bed." "Charles ...," she scoffs. "I'm talking about a fulcrum, leverage, you know, like a teeter totter, load, pivot point, and so on," he demonstrates with his hands. She looks at his hands in front of her, the palm of one hand resting on the side of the other hand as his hand and forearm tilt up and down. She raises her face to look at him, as he looks over her shoulder, staring across the room. She is almost tempted to turn to see what is behind her, but knows he is thinking, not looking. Slowly she begins to leave his lap. He grabs her hips, "NO!" he exclaims, and then lowers his voice, and says gently, "No baby, stay there." "Charles, why do you call me Baby? It's not ... not because I'm little ... I mean, I guess to you, everyone is ...." "Do I? I actually call you Baby?" He asks, showing surprise. When she nods, he grins, puts his arms around her and pulls her back against his chest. "I did not know I do that. Hum, how about that." But he gives no further explanation. Unable to resist her, he begins to kiss her neck, unbuttoning her shirt and slipping it off her shoulders as his mouth trails wet kisses to the point of her shoulder. She is not far behind him, pulling his shirt over his head, spreading her hands across his chest, stopping only long enough for him to pull her shirt and bra off, freeing her arms as they go around his back, rubbing her now free breasts against him. In minutes he has lifted his hips, pulled his jeans and underwear down to his knees, pulled one of her legs out of her jeans, moved the crotch of her panties out of the way, and is thrusting into her, groaning at the heat he feels inside her. "Move dammit, fuck me," he orders her. "Move Marva, ride me, lean back and push," he growls at her, sliding his hips nearer the edge of the couch, his hands holding her as she leans as far back as she can, pumping her hips up and down, and sliding back and forward, as she whines, her breathing faster and faster, until she suddenly feels him explode inside her, groaning and jerking her back into his arms, his teeth clamped in the soft skin on the side of her neck. "Oh god, I am so sorry," he says, as soon as he can catch his breath. "I don't know where that came from. I didn't even take care of you, did I," he apologizes. "What a selfish brute I am." Sh-h-h sh-h-h," she tells him, her hands in his hair, holding his head on her shoulder. "I'm okay." For several long minutes they sit with their arms around each other. She may not understand why he needs it, but she comforts him, resting her head against his. She feels him moving, "What are you doing?" "Just sit there a minute," he explains as he kicks off his shoes and finishes removing his jeans and shorts. "When I stand, lock your legs around me and cross your ankles. My cock is still inside you and I'm going to take you to the bed. Hold on." Both of her knees bump the door facing going into the bedroom, but he turns sideways to get through to the bedroom where he falls to the bed, taking her with him, pumping into her, rolling her over and moving, his cock looking for the magic places that thrill her. "My god, you are a hot woman. Fuck me baby, squirt around me, I want to feel your juices splashing on my balls and running down my legs." He braces his arms beside her, his chest holding her down, moving his hips back and forth, twisting his pelvis, going deep into her and changing to shallow strokes, before beginning to slam into her, finally pulling her knees up almost to her shoulders. "Squeeze me baby, pump it out of me, suck me with your sweet pussy, yes baby, more," he lets out a low groan as he moves, riding her, moving against each of her counter moves as she slides her hips on the bed to bump into him, the sounds of her flesh hitting his as if two hands are slapped together. Her climax surprises her. It is almost violent, jerking her shoulders off the flat bed, and slamming back down. She tries to straighten her legs, pushing against the weight of him on top of her, but he holds her down as her hips move, jerking her body against him, burying his cock deeper and deeper inside her. Her head jerks from side to side and her hands push against his shoulders, and then rake her nails down both sides of his chest. But he does not cease pounding into her, taking her with him on another ride up the mountain until both of them reach the top, almost at the same time and fall down, tumbling over each other, rolling over, his head slamming into the headboard as he growls at her, "Dammit, don't you stop, fuck me, suck it out of me, take all of it, take it." He strains against her, holding her, feeling her muscles clench around him, pumping the hot cum from his cock, her pussy muscles squeezing him until he wants to yell with the intensity of the feeling. Men in Her Life Ch. 03 As his body begins to loosen, he feels the inner muscles of her thighs relaxing. She is taking in great gulps of air, just as he is. The dark blush across the top of her chest begins to fade as he slowly untangles her legs, his arms, and her hands, lying on her feeling the remaining electrical after shocks. Leaving her panting and recovering, he rolls over, "My god, where does it come from, this need I have for you?" He takes a few breaths of air, "I'm like a maniac when I'm inside you, I can't get enough and I just want to give you more." He pulls her into his arms and holds her, rubbing his hands up and down her back, "I feel you move and I must have it, and then another and another until I don't know or care if I hurt you. Oh baby, please don't let me hurt you," he pleads, with his mouth pressed against to softness of her neck. She feels coolness on her chest and rubs her fingers across the sticky moisture and then looks at her fingers. Sitting up she almost screams, "Blood. Charles there's blood on me." "It's mine baby. It's my blood. Oh god, I didn't hurt you, did I?" He sits up beside her, rubbing his hand through his hair, showing her the blood on his fingers. "I bumped my head. Are you alright?" "Do you need ... are you ... let me see." When he does not bend his head to let her look, she gets up on her knees, parting his hair with her fingers, looking for the injury. Faster than he has ever seen her move, she is in the bathroom, returning with a washcloth filled with ice, holding it to the injury a moment, then taking it away and finally putting his hand on the cloth to hold it to his head. "If that doesn't stop bleeding, we may need to go get it stitched," she tells him. Shaking his head, he says, "Not on your life. I'm not telling some first year resident in an emergency room that I cracked my skull on a hotel wall while I was having rough sex." "Charles," she chides him. "NO DAMMIT!" he tells her and then lowers his voice, "No, Marva, it's alright. I'm okay. I don't need stitches. The head bleeds easily and profusely. I'll be fine." He laughs, and when she sees he is not concerned, she laughs too. He looks at her, as the fear begins to leave her face and he winks, "How about we take a shower and go find something good to eat." He leans over and nuzzles her breast, "Or, I could start eating on you." She nods, moving away from him, "Okay, shower, wash off the blood, and then food. I can do that." - - - When he stops his car in front of her apartment building, the street is crowded with no parking available. She says, "It looks like someone is having a party or something. Just let me out and open the trunk. You don't need to come upstairs with me." "Marva ...," he starts to protest. "No," she answers, "It's late. The lights are on, so Karen's home. I'll be alright." He lifts his hands off the steering wheel and surrenders, "Alright, okay, you're a big girl. I'll call you in a few days." As soon as she opens the front door, she realizes why there are so many extra cars on the street below. Elizabeth, Bryan, and Karen are sitting around the kitchen table. David Wells is closing the refrigerator door and opening a can of beer. Callie is standing beside her sister, bending over to look at several magazines spread around the table. After saying, "Hi," to everyone, Marva takes her suitcase to her bedroom before going back to the kitchen. Closing her door behind her, she meets David standing beside the bathroom door as if he used that reason to follow her down the hall. Leaning against the wall, he folds his arms across his chest and cocks his head to the side, nods at her and says, "I guess that love bite on your neck, means there might be some truth to the Marvelous Marva Rumor, huh?" She stares him down, "It's none of your business David," and then turns to go to the kitchen, but is jerked back and turned around when David grabs her upper arm. "What if I want to make it my business?" He asks, sneering at her and trying to put his arms around her. Marva pushes him away and glares at him. "You don't have that right. I told you once before, and I'll say it again. I don't want to screw you. I don't want to fuck you. I don't even want to kiss you, much less talk to you. But I'll be polite because you're my brother's friend. Otherwise, leave me the hell alone." She turns and goes into the kitchen and takes the empty chair, defying anyone to remark on what they obviously heard her tell David. Callie places a magazine in front of her, pointing toward one model, wearing a sleeveless empire waist dress with a slightly flared skirt and square armholes. "Do you think we can make six dresses like this?" Marva looks at Elizabeth. "How long do we have and is there a pattern for this dress, or do we have to make the pattern?" Elizabeth responds, "I thought I'd let you help me with that. I can operate a sewing machine, but I'm not skilled like you are." Marva looks up at Callie, "Can I have this magazine or at least this page. I'll look for the patterns online, or go to a fabric store and look through their books. Do either of you know how many different sizes I'll need?" She turns to Elizabeth, "What kind of fabric do you want to use?" Elizabeth looks around the table, waiting for a suggestion from Callie or Karen, but finally turns to Marva. "Give me a suggestion." "If you still want to start with different shades, it needs to be something that we can find in six shades. So nothing fancy, and nothing heavy either. The skirts will just droop if we use a heavy material or we will have to wear petticoats. Please don't add petticoats to the sewing chores." David walks back into the room and stands beside Bryan, almost touching Callie. Elizabeth smiles as if she has not a single care in the world. "Good then" she reaches up and pats her sister's cheek. "I'll just leave the bridesmaids dresses to you two." Marva interrupts, "I still don't know how much time we have." "Six months," Elizabeth says, with pride. Marva looks at Callie, and then at Elizabeth, and takes a deep breath. "That means a winter wedding and this is a summer dress." Karen leans over to look at the dress and asks, "Can you just add sleeves to it? Will that work?" "Oh lord," Marva shakes her head, "I don't know. Give me a few days to figure this out." Elizabeth smiles and looks at Bryan, sits up straight in her chair, and turns to Marva. "Marva, will you make my dress for me?" Marva shakes her head. "No, no, no. I wouldn't even make my own wedding dress. It's too hard. Order one, buy one from a bridal shop, or have one made by a professional seamstress. I'm not even promising I'll do the other six. I need a couple of days." For another hour the six discuss wedding plans, church or meeting hall preferences, and catering choices as Bryan and David's eyes glaze over. Bryan finally leaves his chair, telling Callie to sit down while the two men move to the couch and turn on the television, quickly becoming interested in a movie. Callie sits down, gently rubs her finger down the love bite on Marva's neck and leans over to ask, "Who's the man that's bold enough to do that?" Marva does not change the expression on her face, when she asks, "Did you hear what I told David?" "Yes, good girl, he can be a little forward, if you don't keep him in line" Callie says, as if she has already mastered keeping David Wells in line. Marva thinks to herself, that perhaps Callie is bitten by the marriage bug, too. But she tells Callie the same thing she told David, "My personal life is none of your business, either," but she grins and adds a very proper English, "Dah'ling." Callie bursts into laughter, "Oh my god, you sound just like Aunt Grace." Turning to Elizabeth, Callie says, "Listen to this," and then looks at Marva, "Say it again, so Elizabeth can hear." Then she looks at Karen to explain, "Marva sounds just like our cousin's mother." Marva could kick herself, blushing so badly she fears they may discover she has actually heard their Aunt Grace say that word. Elizabeth asks Callie, "Did he ever call you back? I left a message for him yesterday, too. I wonder where he's been all week-end, some bimbo probably has her hooks in him and he's sniffing up her skirt. Lord, Lady Grace says she's going to disown him if he doesn't give her some grandchildren soon." Callie laughs, "Last I heard he said he wasn't going to get married until he is at least fifty. He said he won't run out of women until then. About the only woman I know of, who could change his mind, is sitting right there," she says pointing at Marva. "He likes her." "How do you know?" Elizabeth asks. Callie swells up, holding the juicy information inside as long as she can and finally says, "Goodness gracious, you should have seen the way he looked at her when I introduced them. I thought he was going to sit down on his haunches and start panting." Karen laughs out loud, "Oh my goodness, the way you girls talk about men, I'm just glad I don't want one of them." She continues to laugh and the other three soon join her, but perhaps for different reasons. - - - Arriving at the jogging track a little after six o'clock, Marva is just starting her warm up exercises when Richard Farnsworth stops beside her and sits down to stretch. "Good morning, Marva. I missed you for a few days. I was out of town." "Yeah?" She replies, "I was too. And I missed walking, so I'm going to be stiff tonight." "Then let's take it slow, it'll give me a better opportunity to get to know you," he responds and walks beside her for the whole time she is on the track, asking questions about herself, the city, and the area. When Marva says she's had enough for one day, Richard agrees, adding that he walked longer than usual, just so he could talk to her. He invites her to a quick breakfast, but understands when she declines because she has to go to work. He has one more hour than she does. They wave to each other as they drive away. It takes several more days for Richard to ask Marva to have dinner, or go to a movie with him. She is not too reluctant. She enjoys their conversations, learning he is working for one of the local engineering firms. He has been out of school for a few years, but did not like his last job, although he is excited about the new one. It is a smaller firm and he will have an opportunity for a more varied workload. Richard Farnsworth is an easy going, good conversationalist. He has a varied education, not deciding until late to go to engineering school, so it took him at least one additional year to finish college. He is not a tall man, at least not as tall as Marva's brother Bryan, and certainly no where near as tall, or big, as Charles, nor is he as dark as Charles. He has light brown hair, light brown eyes and is a neat dresser. He says he usually wears a shirt and tie to work, but doesn't need a sport coat, their office is rather informal. He takes her out several times before he kisses her for the first time, other than a quick good night kiss when he takes her home. The night he kisses her with passion, she invited him in to look through her record collection, some old 78 rpm records her father collected and gave to her as a graduation present. They play a few of the records, sitting on the couch, laughing at how much music and recording has changed over the years. He stops kissing her and puts his hands on both side of her face and looks at her, "You know I want to do more than kiss you, don't you?" Marva nods and blushes, but doesn't say anything. He touches his lips to hers and says, "But I don't think you are ready for something like that between us, are you?" "No, I ... I don't ... darn," she stutters, trying to explain. "I don't think I know you well enough, yet." "Okay, I like you Sweetheart," he says, unashamed at using the endearment. "I'll give you the time you need to know me. I'm not in a rush, but I'm not going to let you get away from me, either." - - - The next afternoon, Charles calls. "It is Sunday afternoon, the best day of the week for a long nap. I'm horny. I'm on my way to pick you up. Are you going to meet me downstairs or do I need to come up to get you?" "How do you know I want to see you?" Marva teases, feeling her arousal beginning just from hearing his voice. "You get wet when you hear my voice and I can smell you from a mile away. Be downstairs in five minutes." And then she hears nothing, knowing he has folded his phone and put it back in his pocket. She walks into the bathroom and checks her pill pack, just to make sure she knows how many days there are until her period starts. She knew any way, and he probably does too. He picked up her pill pack in the motel and counted the pills, looked at her and grinned. "I have to keep track of you." Marva leaves a note for Karen, writing that she will be home late and will take care of her own supper. Karen will probably be late, too. She and Cynthia are spending the afternoon with Cynthia's parents. It has taken almost two months since Bryan's birthday party for the two girls to get back to the level of comfort they had before their big argument. Neither of them will comment on what the problem was, or is, but they seem to be, once again, a stable couple, not as close as Karen would like, though. Even if she hasn't said anything, Marva knows Karen wants Cynthia to be a real partner, living together, permanently. Charles stops his car, just barely long enough for Marva to get in and close the door. She buckles her seat belt as he drives down the block. "My my, he's in a hurry, isn't he," she teases him. "I was right about you being wet, wasn't I?" When she does not respond to his question, he asks again, "Wasn't I, baby?" "Charles, what difference does it make? I'm here, aren't I?" He looks at her, nods once and asks, "Do you want me to take you back home? I'm not asking the question merely to be argumentative. I'm asking for the truth." "No, I'm just not in a good mood, I guess," she answers truthfully. "What's wrong?" He asks. "And don't say, "Nothing." I hate it when women complain, but won't say what it's about. Either don't talk about it, or tell us, men don't read minds very well." "I don't do that to you," she objects. "No, you don't. I'm sorry. You're right, you don't do that. Some women do and I don't mean to lump you in with all of them. See, I guess I'm not in a good mood, either." Marva laughs, "What's wrong? And don't say, "Nothing." I hate it when men complain, but won't say what it's about." Charles roars with laughter. He pounds his fist on the steering wheel and laughs louder. "Lord woman, why do I let you tease me like that? I must be a masochist, looking for some kind of punishment for some sin I don't even know I've committed." "Is that why you aren't going to get married until you're fifty years old? Because you don't like to listen to women complain?" "Where on earth did you hear that?" He asks and starts nodding as soon as she mentions Callie's name. "Good grief, she's been trying to find me a wife since she was ten years old. She said if she can't have me, she wants to make sure I get a good one." For the remainder of the trip to his house, they discuss the wedding plans, which he says he would prefer to avoid, but will not get the chance. Marva agrees and suggests they could move to a deserted island until the hullabaloo is all over with. He likes her idea, but fears Elizabeth would invade the island, just to make them miserable. He takes her to bed, and spends at least an hour touching her, caressing her, allowing her to do the same to him, never stopping the increased arousal, just as she does to him, and then lies panting beside her, begging her to leave him alone, and then shows her what he wants her to do next. Marva tells him about her confrontation with David Wells and he congratulates her, and laughs about the mark he left on her neck, apologizing again, as he did when he noticed it. He said he will be more careful, he did not realize she bruises so easily. He shows her the healed scratches she left on his chest and allows her to make sure the small cut on top of his head is nearly healed. Sitting up on the bed, Marva asks, "Charles, why aren't we monogamous?" "Whoa, whoa, what gave you that idea?" Very slowly she explains that she has had several dates with one particular man. He asks her about him and she is brutally honest, even about the way he kisses her and how she feels about his kisses. He reminds her that he has always told her she needs a man who is domesticated, wants a home, a family, and a loving wife. It takes him a while to discover she is afraid. Not afraid of going to bed with Richard, but afraid he won't be as exciting as Charles is, or that she will compare the two of them and not be happy with the comparison. "Baby, I think you are in love with Richard, aren't you?" Charles asks, watching the blush rise up her chest, her neck and flood her cheeks with color. She lies down and pulls the covers over her, finally cooled off from their exertions. "I don't know if I'm in love with him, or not. I like him. I like him a lot. But that's not enough to be called love." "You are never going to know, until you find out. So, go find out. Spend the night with him. Go to his place after work some afternoon. Do something to answer the questions you have. Enjoy yourself, too." "But what about ... I don't want ...," she stutters. "Oh lord," he says in exasperation, stopping her. "Marva, sit up here. We need to have a very serious discussion." When she has done so, he says, "I'm right here. I'm always right here. If that is something you want, I'll take you and enjoy every moment you give me. If you cannot see the difference in a man like me, and one you can build a life with, then I will miss you. I'll probably be the most miserable man on the face of the earth for a long time. My family will hate me for months and months. My mother will refuse to see me and my business will suffer, but you are worth every second of my misery." "But I don't want that to happen," she complains. "You can't do anything to prevent it. I will not take one ounce of your happiness away from you. That's what would happen if I allowed you to think that anything we have cannot be replaced by the love of a good man." "Charles ..." "No, don't make excuses. Don't give me an apology. I do not deserve them. You need to think about what is right for you and the children you want. I know you want children. Marry a man who will give you children, who can afford to let you stay home with them and see they grow up to be happy people." "Can I ... can we ...," he watches her battle to say what she wants and he will not help her. Instead he waits, knowing what she will ask and he does not know how he will answer. "I'm not sure how to ask something like that. Am I still going to be able to see you?" "That's not what you want to know is it?" She shakes her head. "You want to know if I will still want to fuck you. You want to know if, when you have a real need to be fucked, if I will be here for you. That's what you want to know, isn't it?" When she doesn't answer, he takes her shoulders in his hands and shakes her, "Isn't it? You want to know, if you marry Richard, and spend every night with a man in your bed, if you will still have a fuck buddy?" Finally she nods, looking him straight in the eyes, "Yes, I want to know if I will still have a fuck buddy. One who makes me cum, and scream with the pleasure he gives me. Are you satisfied?" "Yes, thank you. And, yes, I will still want to push my cock into you as far as it will go. I will always want to taste the sweetness of your pussy and plead for your mouth on my cock. I'll find an afternoon, anytime you have the freedom to come to me. I'll steal a morning when you escape your castle to look for me. I will leave my clients sitting at the bargaining table and come to you, wherever you are. If you leave this city, I will drive, fly, swim, or walk for the few hours you will share your body with me. Are you satisfied?" Men in Her Life Ch. 03 "Yes, thank you." He takes his hands from her shoulders and says, "But the first time you tell me you have been to bed with Richard, I will no longer call you. You will have to call me. Do you understand? I will not invade a relationship you have with another man, who will be part of your life. Tell me you understand, Marva. It is important to me to know that you come to me when you want me, not because I ask it of you." "Yes, I understand. It is difficult for me to call you. I've never been a forward person. But, I do understand." No sooner than the words have left her mouth, he is pushing her down on the bed, moving over her and pushing his cock into her, moving a little deeper with each movement of his hips, telling her how badly he wants her juices pouring out of her. He is relentless, moving her whole body across the bed with his energy. He sits up, pulling her up with him, making her work for her climax, insisting she move on his hard cock, telling her to take it if she wants it. "You want to fuck me? Then do it, squeeze you muscles around my cock and pull it out of me. Find that sweet spot that makes you twist on me and pound at it until that volcano inside your pussy explodes. Fuck me, Marva. Fuck me and show me how much you want it. Can you handle a man with a hard cock?" He stops, withdraws, and tells her to be still. "Don't move. If this is the last time I can taste your pussy, I'm going to take all I want." Marva tries to sit up, but he pushes her down, "No dammit. I need this. I may never find another woman who tastes as sweet as you, or shares herself with me, as you do." Allowing him to do as he asked, Marva lies down and spreads her legs, while Charles buries his face between her thighs. His intensity turns to gentleness as he licks up and down each of the outer lips, searching for the mole he knows so well, putting the tip of him tongue just inside each lip to feel the soft inner tissues. He worships her, tastes her, stops and breathes her essence, and softly blows his hot breath on her. When she reaches down to hold herself open for him, he moves her hands away. He places his hands against her thighs and uses his thumbs to separate the lips. Gently, he licks up and down each of the inner lips until they are engorged with her blood, purple with her arousal. He dips his tongue into her, sucks out the moisture she releases and rests his mouth against her opening. He rests his chin on her mound, rubs his chin around and goes back to feel her heat and wetness on his tongue. He moves his flat tongue from inside her, dragging it through the lips of her pussy and lays it on her clit. He strokes her, slowly, doing it again and again until her hips are moving against his face. His stimulation ceases as he moves to her thighs, his wet kisses going down to her knees, allowing her increasing arousal to subside. He moves to the other knee and kisses back to her heat. She shudders. She moans. She pleads with him. But he denies her. This is for him. He takes what he wants. He is selfish in his ministration. When he increases the stimulation, Marva lifts her hips, encouraging him to take what he wants. He senses her climax and sucks her clit into his mouth and scrapes it lightly with his tongue. Marva screams as her climax crashes around her. Her juices flood across his face, run down his neck, and still he does not cease. She arches her back until only her feet and shoulders are touching the bed beneath her. Her hips slam into the bed and she sits upright, then falls to the bed, lifts her legs as her hips bounce against the bed. He is on his knees a sudden thrust into her, as his body slams against hers, moving her on the bed. He pounds at her small body, as if he gives little care to how small she is beneath him. He pulls back, leaves only the head of his cock inside her and slams into her again. He will take what he wants from her. He does it again, and again, hearing the slap of his flesh meeting hers. He slides his hands under her back and brings his fingers up over her shoulders to hold her in place and still he thrusts into her. While he moves above her, he feels her vibrations beginning and his balls burn as they vibrate, drawing up tight in the sac. He pushes against her as his body pulses and his cock expands, hardens, and lengthens as if he could fill the entire length of her core. Perspiration beads his brow, as he slams against her and probes her depths. His arms quiver with the hollow feeling at the base of his cock and suddenly, the first surge of cum erupts, burning as another surge empties into her. His movements are uneven until he holds himself sill, trembling, while Marva clenches his raw cock and shudders beneath him. He will not move. He will hold himself in her until his cock is too limp to remain and still he will be above her, watching her, enjoying her response to his demands. He will allow her to leave him today, not knowing if he will ever have her in his bed, or his arms, again. But he will have shown her that no other man can take her to such heights. - - - Marva spends hours on the internet looking for patterns and colors for winter wedding dresses. She leans back and exhales when she finds a photo of a whole wedding party in black. Each bridesmaid is wearing a black dress, which even Karen would like, and their bouquets have progressively darker and darker flowers. She emails the photo to Elizabeth, who calls her ten minutes later raving about the photo. Marva sends her another dozen pictures and breathes a sign of relief that she does not need to make the dresses. But she still will not agree to make the bride's dress. It is just too difficult, and Elizabeth is a hard to please person. The night Richard picks her up and says he wants to cook supper for her, Marva is nervous, and does not mind that Richard knows it. After their meal she is standing at the kitchen sink, washing a large pot, which does not fit in the dishwasher, when Richard walks up behind her, putting his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. "Come on, Sweetheart, leave that. I'll do it later." She turns around and puts her arms around him, allowing him to kiss her, enjoying his attention. He takes his mouth from hers and looks at her, and then takes her hand and leads her to his bedroom. He sits on the bed, pulls her between his knees, and slowly undresses her, until she begins to unbutton his shirt. Their hands get in the way of each other's efforts, but he does not stop. Her movements are awkward, but his are smooth and steady. "I'm going to make love to you all night long. You know that don't you?" He asks. "All I need to know is do I need to protect you? Do I need to wear a condom?" "Yes, please," she answers easily. The same answer she has given to any man who asked, except Charles. He never asked. Richard is gentle, robust, strong, and careful. He waits for her, he stimulates her, and he satisfies her before he thinks of his own sexual satisfaction. He pets her, he pampers her, and he kisses her to distraction, until she is breathless in his arms. He holds her, suckles her breasts as if they are fine wine, and tells her he loves her. They talk about things that interest them and he makes love to her again, coaxing her to a climax, and then quietly soothes her, allows her to rest and then takes her with him to another climax. He pulls her back against him, and wraps his arm around her, gently soothing her. "Oh Sweetheart, I don't want to let you out of this bed." "Don't ... don't rush ..." He interrupts her, "I know, sweetheart. I'll wait, but you need to know I want you." "I know." She answers easily, for she really does know. She enjoys him, too, more than she has ever enjoyed being with any other man. Well, almost any other man. "Are you going to spend the night with me?" Richard asks, holding his breath. "No, I better not. I'm not comfortable doing that yet." He chuckles, "I didn't think you would. But I'm not going to stop asking. Alright, you get dressed and I'll take you home, much as I don't want to." On their way back to her apartment, she talks about all the things she has going on in her life, her brother's wedding, a new girl to train in the office, and Karen's deepening relationship with Cynthia. "Do you really think they're going to do it?" Richard asks. "I mean, move in together, and what will you do, stay there or try to find your own place?" "I don't know" she answers, shaking her head. "I asked Karen what she wants to do, but she doesn't know yet, either. I've thought about finding my own apartment now, but both of us really like living together and I don't want her to think I'm forcing her to make a decision." "Well, don't do anything yet. Give us a chance. I'm not saying anything you don't know. Just give things a little more time, please." Men in Her Life Ch. 04 This is the fourth of six chapters. A new man in Marva's life means she must make a choice. This is a long story, broken down into six chapters. If you would like to read the other chapters, click on my ID above. Enjoy, 2Xwidderwoman * The next date Marva has with Richard, he suggests they go to his apartment after dinner, but Marva reminds him that she had said she would really like an early night. He kisses her gently and tells her goodnight. When she gets home, Karen has left a note that she is spending the night with Cynthia. Marva opens her cell phone and looks through the directory, finding the number she wants, but closes the phone and puts it back in her bag. Ten minutes later, she makes the call, "Charles?" "If you aren't over here in my bed in the next ten minutes, I'm coming over there and break down your door." It takes her more than ten minutes, even though she drives faster than she should. The garage door is open and Charles is standing inside the garage door, pulling her out of the car and almost carrying her into the house, undressing her and he lands between her knees as she is falling onto the bed. "Dammit Marva, it has been over three weeks since I fucked you and I'm not letting you out of this bed until you explain what took you so damn long to call." And then he will not let her explain. Even when he is lying beside her panting, he will not allow her to explain. "Don't give me that shit. Roll over so I can taste you. I woke up last week and could not remember what your pussy tastes like and it frightened the hell out of me." "Charles, slow down." "NO! I need this. I told you it's an obsession. Why would a god make such wonderful tasting woman and not allow a man to have them any time we want them. Now be still." When he has temporarily satisfied his hunger, so he says, he asks, "Has that man asked you to marry him yet?" "Almost," she answers. Bounding to his feet, he throws his hands in the air and leans over her. "WHAT THE HELL KIND OF AN ANSWER IS THAT." He is in a rage of temper, worse than she has ever seen him. "EITHER, HE HAS ASKED, OR HE HASN'T." "ALRIGHT THEN," she sits up and yells back at him. "HE HAS NOT ASKED. ARE YOU SATISFIED?" In a normal voice he says, "Okay, okay. I just want you to talk to me. I'm calm now." Patiently, Marva says, "Charles, I'm sorry. I don't know what to do. I need some help." "Well hell, I'm not going to help you with your love life. I'm your fuck buddy, not Dear Abby," he says stomping into the bathroom. "Get your ass in here and empty your bladder. How many times do I have to tell you about that?" "Charles, I need help ...." She reminds him. He jerks his head around to look at her, almost missing the toilet with his stream of urine. "I told you, I am not going to help you with your love life," he growls. "Then quit interrupting me and I'll tell you what I want," she demands, sitting down to pee. "I think Karen is going to ask Cynthia to move in and I don't know if I want to stay there. I'm not sure I can afford to live by myself, and I don't think I want another room mate. Karen and I do fine, because we don't interfere in each other's lives. I just don't think I would have that kind of freedom with someone else." "Part of this is about me, isn't it?" He asks, already knowing what the problem is. Marva nods, "Yes, part of it is about you. But I know, as soon as I mention it to Richard, he's going to propose and I'm not ready for that." "I'll find you an apartment and pay half the rent," he offers. "NO!" She turns to him, fire glinting in her eyes, as she stands stiffly her hands at her side, clenched into fists. "Gol-lee, take it easy" he holds up his hands as if to ward off a blow. "It's just a suggestion." "Well, it's a stupid suggestion," she says, walking past him, looking for her clothes. He chuckles, "Yeah, it is, isn't it?" "And you don't have to laugh about it. I am very serious about this. I do not need this complication. I have Bryan's wedding, a new girl to train, all this Karen and Cynthia relationship, plus Richard. I'd escape, if I had somewhere to go." He steps to her and puts his arms around her. "Oh, my poor baby, I don't know what help I could be." She shoves him, hard. "Don't patronize me. I'm having a temper tantrum. Just let me get it out of my system." He lowers his arms and bends to look in her face, "Does Richard know that you have these tantrums?" "Oh heavens, no, it would probably frighten him to death." She stops talking, sits down hard on the side of the bed, and says, "Oh shit." "Yeah, I think so too," he says, sitting beside her. "What are you going to do now?" Marva shakes her head, "I don't know. I really don't know." She throws one shoe into the corner of the room, watching it bounce off the wall. It is the same corner where Charles threw their clothes the first time he took her to bed. It feels so good she throws the other shoe into the same corner, falls back on the bed, rolls over and starts sobbing. Charles stands, goes into the bathroom, returning with a handful of tissues, and puts them in her hands, picks up his shorts, and leaves the bedroom. When Marva walks into the kitchen, she is dressed. She is no longer crying, but her eyes are red and her nose is too. Charles points to one of the kitchen chairs and commands, "Sit. Don't talk or argue with me, just sit down." When she has done as he said, he places a cup of coffee in front of her and takes the seat where he usually sits. They sit quietly, for a little while, drinking their coffee, occasionally looking at each other, but unsure what to say, or even if they should say anything. "Marva," he begins. "I don't know how to tell you this, but you are not going to be satisfied with a simple man. You cannot marry Richard." "I know. I figured that out. But I don't know anyone else who will put up with me," she says miserably. "Tell me why you think you need to get married." "Oh. Well, I guess ... well, I think, partly because ... but, maybe I don't..." "See?" He tells her. "You don't really know, do you?" She shakes her head. She doesn't like her answer, either. "I guess not." "If you like him that much and he is good in bed, I mean if he can fuck your brains out, and make you cum until you can't breathe. That's no reason you have to marry him." "I know." "Baby, you have at least ten, or maybe fifteen years before you need to start a family. Give yourself time to find a man that really suits you. Don't take on one who won't make you happy and leave you with a couple of children you have to raise on your own." She looks at him and asks, "You think that would happen? I mean, I don't want to raise children without them having a father." He nods at her, "Yes, I do think that would happen, and you do too. This single parent stuff is not easy. You can look around. Few single women have happy kids. You would have to work and you know how hard it is, just to support yourself. Imagine what it would take if you had children, or even just one child. And I know you. You are going to want at least three." She nods her head, looking at him and smiling. Charles looks at her, almost stops breathing, and fears his heart has skipped a beat. He forces himself to look away, stands and says, "Come on. I'll take you back to bed. I've not had my fill of you yet and you don't have to work in the morning." - - - When Marva leaves Charles's house, she does not go home. As soon as she clears his driveway, she calls Richard and asks if she can come by his apartment for a few minutes. She needs to talk to him. He gives her a strange look when he opens the door, noticing she is still wearing the clothes she had on the night before. As soon as he closes the door, she says, "Richard, you are not going to like me very much. But I need to tell you a few things about me." "Would you like to go sit down? I have coffee," he offers, "Or would you like a soft drink?" "No, thank you. I don't care for anything and I don't think I want to sit down either." It takes her just a few sentences to say what she came to say. She does not beat around the bush, she is straightforward and honest. He is a gentle caring man and she is a termagant, a quarrelsome, scolding, shrew. He is a wonderful lover, but she is a wild, exotic, enticing woman with an appetite that most men cannot satisfy. She paces into his living room and returns, her arms waving and her eyes flashing as she describes what she expects from a man. He leans against the entry hall watching this woman use gutter language that makes him blush. She apologizes for leading him on, but is just discovering a few things about herself and is very glad she has not caused him any irreparable harm. When she finishes talking, she walks to him, puts her hands on his face and kisses him, grinds her pelvis into him, and leaves him breathless in her wake. It is a full minute after his door closes before he can see straight. And he cannot believe he had that woman in his bed and did not take advantage of the opportunity few men have to be absorbed by such an exciting woman. He groans, knowing he could not handle a woman like her, and it brings tears to his eyes. Marva goes home and takes a shower, wanders around the apartment for a while and thinks about what she has just done. She finally takes her largest suitcase out of the closet and packs enough clothes for two weeks, and fills her cosmetic bag with everything she thinks she will need for that amount of time. Although it is a struggle, she gets the suitcase down the hall and into the elevator. She fears she has hurt herself getting it into the trunk of her car, but dusts her hands off after closing the trunk lid and goes back upstairs. When she calls Karen, to say she needs to talk to her, she discovers Karen is on her way home. "Oh great," she says. "Is Cynthia with you?" "No, she's in her car. She's on her way there, though." "Wonderful," Marva says. "I need to talk to her, too." When Karen and Cynthia are sitting down, Marva swears them to secrecy and begins to tell them about her fuck buddy, but will not tell them his name, until it slips out inadvertently. Both girls laugh at her, at first, and then stare open mouthed at how bold Marva has been. They try to commiserate with her about Richard, but she explains there is no need. He understood and is probably glad he will not have to suffer through a broken engagement and all the embarrassment that goes with such a thing, or, heaven forbid, a divorce and possibly child support. As she outlines her plans, they are reluctant, at first, but soon understand that it is not a permanent arrangement, it is simply an experiment and they begin to show a little excitement as they agree to go along with her plans. Cynthia will stay at least one week. If it all works out, for her and Karen, she may even stay the full two weeks. Marva considers calling her brother, but does not do so. Instead, she asks Karen not to say anything to him, and to let her know if he starts asking lots of questions, so she can swear him to secrecy, too, before explaining what she has done. Bryan's engagement to Elizabeth could create a real problem if this experiment does not work out well. Walking out the door of the apartment she opens her cell phone and makes her telephone call. "Do you get a hard-on when you hear my voice?" "Good god, woman. Are you insatiable?" He asks, chuckling and telling her, "I just put dry sheets on the bed." "Can I come see you?" It is the boldest question she has ever asked another human being in her whole life. "Oh yes, please," he answers. "Spend another night with me and I'll even fix breakfast for you." "After that, what do you plan to feed me for supper?" Her voice is serious. This is not a laughing matter, nor is it something she can tease him about. His voice is just as serious as her own, "Mercy woman, if I get that much of your time, I'll feed you anything you want and half of my cock, too." "Ten minutes," she says and folds her phone, putting it in her pocket. He is just opening the garage door, when Marva drives into his driveway. When she steps out of her car, she does not say a word, but walks straight into the house, going all the way back to the bedroom, and starts removing her clothes. He stands in the garage for at least half a minute before he moves. She did not smile at him and did not even stop to kiss him. She is up to something and he is concerned that she is going to explode again. He takes a full minute to find her. She is sitting, naked in the middle of his bed, with the bed covers pooled around her hips. When she looks up to see him standing in the doorway, she holds her arms out to him, "Charles, fuck me," she says. It is the words he has asked her to say before, but before this, she would not say it so boldly. He leans against the door facing and looks at her. He thinks about it for a long minute, but he cannot resist and is soon removing his clothes and doing exactly as she asked. It is at least two hours before either of them can think about anything but what they find in each other's arms. After she has dutifully emptied her bladder and watched him do the same and moved back against him when he is back in bed with her, she asks, "Charles how big a gamble are you willing to take that you will either drive me away forever, or never let me leave you." Believing she is serious, he answers seriously, "I'm not sure. Are you giving me an ultimatum?" "No, I think I'm giving you a choice, but there may be other options, too." "Did you go see Richard?" He asks, believing he knows the answer, but still wanting to make sure. "Yes, I did," she answers. "I think he was a little disappointed that he did not know what he had. But I believe he understood. He is a very nice man. I really like him, but I cannot love him." "Humph," is his wordless response. "I also had a talk with Karen and Cynthia. Cynthia is going to move in and stay with Karen for a couple of weeks, while I'm gone." "Gone? Where are you going?" He asks, surprised because she has not mentioned a trip. Marva rolls over and smiles at him, "I'm going to live with you for two weeks." "Oh no, you're not." "Yes, I am," she announces. "We had three nights together. We did not fight, we got along well, we enjoyed each other, and I think you even had a good time. But it was nothing like being on familiar territory, doing ordinary things, and having someone else around. We don't know that we can or cannot get along with each other, under normal everyday circumstances." "Marva, I'm a bear" he tries to explain. "I'm difficult to be around at times. I'm dictatorial. I work long crazy hours. I leave some mornings before daylight and drag my ass back home, long after dark. There are days when I never leave the house. I fire my secretary at least once a week. She's older than my mother, flips me the finger, and then goes and does what she knows to do and stays out of my way until I'm in a better mood. I'm particular about a lot of things and sometimes I'm downright ornery." "I know. That doesn't mean you won't try. You tolerate my tantrums. You let me cry without feeling guilty, which is a great compliment to any man. You don't make me talk when I want to be quiet. And mercy, you make love to me like no man has ever tried to do for me before. When you touch me, I shiver with expectation. I get wet when I hear your voice. You send me into a delirium of ecstasy that leaves me senseless and throbbing." He kisses her and holds her, but for only a moment. "You do the same to me and I did not have to tell you that. You already know it. But that does not mean we can live together. You need a man." "You're a man. Please, let's try it." "You want children." "You said I have ten to fifteen years before I need to even think about that." "You need a home." "No, I need to be around you long enough to find out if there is anything more for us than what's on this bed." "Oh my, you are one tempting morsel. Have I ever told you that you are beautiful? I see this skin and it's so delicate I fear I'll mar it with my brutality. I hold this hand and worry I'll hurt you if I hold you as I want to. I want you so badly sometimes, that I fear I will crush you with my exuberance. I bruised you and I wanted to cry. Baby, don't let me hurt you, ever again, please." Surprised, she asks, "Charles, are you afraid of me?" "God have mercy, yes. There is a hunger inside me that only you have ever been able to fill. I tremble with fear, when I think another man will take you away from me. This relationship with Richard frightened me. I yell at you and I holler at you, thinking I can drive you away and then I clutch you back, afraid you will get so far away from me that I cannot find you and bring you back." "Then please, let's try it?" She asks, trying to avoid pleading or begging. It is a simple request, "If you don't want me to stay two weeks, let's at least try it for one week. Go get my suitcase out of the trunk of my car and put it in the bedroom across the hall. I'll be here, but I won't be invading your spaces." She stops talking for a moment watching his face. He wants it, she knows he does, he is just resisting because he is afraid, too. "Be honest with me, so I can be honest with you," she says. "If I touch something you don't want me to touch, tell me. If I cook something you don't like, let me know what you do like and I'll try to make it the way you want it. I'm not asking for anything you don't want to do anyway. You're just as afraid of me as I am of you. But I trust you." "Alright dammit, alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." He stands, and naked as the day he was born, walks across the room, going out of the bedroom. She hears the kitchen door slam a moment later. She is standing in the middle of the hall when he returns carrying her suitcase in one hand and her keyboard in the other. She did not think about the keyboard being in the trunk. She walks to him and takes the long narrow bag out of his hand and stands holding it while he tosses her suitcase on the guest room bed. "What the hell is that?" He asks looking at the bag she holds in front of her thighs. "It's my keyboard," she answers easily. He holds his hands in front of him as if typing on an imaginary typewriter and asks, "Keyboard?" Marva nods, but corrects him, "Piano, I forgot it was in the trunk. I'll take it back out to the car." She does not manage to walk past him, without him grabbing the bag. He points to his bedroom and she turns, going back into the room with him following, carrying the bag. "Show me," he orders, as he places the bag on the bed. She walks to the bed, turns the bag right-side-up and unzips the wrap around zipper, pulls the electrical cord out, and holds it toward him. He shrugs his shoulders, takes the cord and plugs it into an electrical socket beside the bed and stands with his arms crossed, as if he is waiting for his command performance. Marva climbs onto the bed, sits Indian style and touches one key. Charles smiles and climbs onto the bed behind her, wrapping himself around her and begs, "Please play something on that thing so I'll know I'm not dreaming." Not quite understanding exactly what his problem is, she touches a few buttons and begins to play something from memory, as his chin comes to rest on her shoulder and his arms go around her, holding him to her. "Music hath charms to soothe a savage beast," he whispers in her ear. She corrects him, "Breast, not beast, its breast. "Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak." It's a quotation from the opening scene, Act I, Scene 1, of The Mourning Bride, by William Congreve," she tells him. Men in Her Life Ch. 04 He looks at her strangely, "You know things like that?" "Yes," she responds and shivers slightly when the air conditioner blows cold air across her shoulders. "My father was a college professor of English Literature. We read that kind of stuff at supper every night." "Oh my, you're freezing," he runs him hand down her arm, doing nothing to cure the chills on her skin. "Go get dressed. I'm single minded when I get something in my head." "Will you tell ... may I ask ..., Charles what is so special about ...." His voice is soft. His words are gentle and full of emotion. "I know you saw my mother, at the hotel. But you probably did not take a good look at her. She has rheumatoid arthritis. She comes to town to see her doctor. Her poor beautiful hands are in very bad shape. She was a great beauty when she was young. My father went to England for a year, something like an exchange student. He brought her home with him. My favorite memories of her are when she sat at the piano and played for him. She quit playing, about the time Dad died. I always thought she continued to play, despite the pain, simply because he loved to see her that way, and she only gave in to the pain after he died." Still playing, she asks, "Why didn't you learn to play?" He holds one of his hands in front of her, his palm down and the fingers spread out. "With these hams?" he asks. "Look at them, I know the keys and might be able to pick out a simple tune, if you give me enough time. But, my fingers hit a key and the one next to it, too. I can't make my hands small enough to play a simple cord without pressing too many keys. I'm a total failure at playing, but I'll sit and listen to you practice for hours and hours. I go to concerts, any time there is one. I support the symphony and beg them to bring piano recitals or concert pianists. Even if they aren't very good, someone wants to go hear them play. I loved to watch Jerry Lee Lewis and Liberace and Vladimir Horowitz. Oh wow, do you know that Mark Twain and Albert Einstein played the piano. Thomas Edison did too, but then so did Richard Nixon. Damn, I told you I'm single minded. Go get dressed." When she finds him in the kitchen, Charles is waiting for the coffee to finish perking, standing guard over it as if it will not finish unless he watches. "You need to make a trip to the grocery store," he explains as if it is a foregone conclusion she is in charge of the kitchen. "I'll go with you. I don't cook many meals for myself. I can, I just don't. A restaurant is easier and faster for me." "But not as good, nor as healthy," she adds and he grins, telling her she will not have much trouble feeding him, he will eat anything that's not raw or stinks. She asks him what he means by stinks and he says sauerkraut. A general discussion of what he likes to eat turns into a full fledged trip to the grocery store, after a stop at his favorite meat market and a huge order of meat, which they collect after filling the trunk of his car, with more food than Marva has ever shopped for in a whole month. He shrugs his shoulders and says his pantry is bare and he is willing to put anything into it that she wants to eat, cook, or fix for him. Sometime after exhaustion leaves her with a pounding head, after brushing her teeth, Marva is walking from the adjoining bathroom, into the bedroom where Charles left her suitcase. He is leaning against the door facing of her bedroom, his arms folded across his chest, watching her. She stands in the door of the bathroom, her short nightgown sheer and see-through with the lighted room behind her. "How many more nights do I have with you before your period starts?" He asks, as if it is a subject they often discuss. She blushes, but does not avert her eyes. "Six, I think," she says simply. He nods at her, "You wear one of those things when you don't want me to touch you. Otherwise, will you sleep with me at night?" "Yes," she answers simply. Reaching down to pull the nightgown over her head, dropping it on the bed as she walks toward him, her nipples hardening in the cool air as she moves. She stops in front of him, not sure what he wants. He puts his hand up, gently brushes her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "I will tell you that I have never had another woman in that bed." He jerks his head toward the door behind him. "You can believe that, if you like, but it is the truth. I don't want any misunderstandings between us. This is too important to me, for lies or games." "Charles, I don't know how to play games. I am too plain and simple for that." He leans toward her, speaking softly, his voice intense and shaking. "You are far from plain and nowhere near simple. You are the most exciting, vibrant, fascinating, and captivating, woman I've ever known, tasted, or fucked. I'm not sure I will survive this experiment of yours, but I'll be damned if I'll allow you to take that sweet pussy to another man." He straightens up, moves out of the doorway, points toward his bedroom, and leaves her standing where she was. When he returns to his bedroom, from locking doors and turning off lights, he sits on the bed beside her hip. He is quiet for a moment, and then he turns to place his hands on the bed beside her shoulders and leans over her. He lifts his hands, one at a time, moving the hair at the sides of her face, tucking behind her ears. "My word, woman, you are beautiful. Seeing you here in my bed, waiting for me and knowing you will be here tomorrow, too, is almost painful to me." Leaning forward a little more, he places his lips against hers, holding them there, for only a moment. He lifts his head and tells her, "Several weeks ago, you asked a question, which I did not answer. I did not purposely avoid answering your question, it just didn't seem important at the time. In the hotel you told me that I call you "Baby," and asked me why. I really wasn't aware I was doing that, but since you mentioned it, I find myself doing it often. My father called my mother, "Baby Doll." He never called her Grace. I'm not sure why, it was just the way he was, I guess. He loved her. Oh my lord, he loved her. He worshiped her. She is a difficult woman. I always thought he acted like little more than a lapdog, always satisfying her wants and needs, without considering his own. For a long time, I didn't like her very much. She is a very domineering woman. I'm not sure, even today, that I want her around me. She knows it, and will occasionally push it to a limit I will not cross. Baby," he stops and tries to smile at himself for letting the word slip out, and then continues. "I'm not sure this will be easy for us. Please give me time to become comfortable with you here and forgive my boorish behavior when I allow her attitude to influence how I treat you." - - - The next morning she is at the track just finishing her walk when Richard arrives. She walks straight to him and greets him, telling him she missed his company while she was walking. He says he is getting a late start on his day, but will try to be a little earlier tomorrow. He enjoys their conversations, too. It takes some talking, but Marva convinces her boss to allow her to work two days and then take the rest of the week as vacation. The new trainee will have an opportunity to see what she knows and does not know. Thomas Rowe knows something is going on in Marva's life, but he does not question her. He makes one cryptic comment about finally getting someone trained well enough that they can do their work without a lot of supervision and it's disruptive to business when they leave or dramatically change their lives. - - - Stretching her arms over her head, Marva groans, "I'll get up in a minute and fix your lunch. I'm on vacation. It feels good to just lie here and think about doing nothing but what I want to do all-l-l-l day long." She hears growling in her ear, "I'm going to begin at those little red toenails and lick my way up until I find something that's wetter than my tongue and when I have you squirming I'm going to go fix my own lunch and leave you here in this bed waiting for me to come back tonight and finish the job." She laughs and suggests, "You could just stay home today and we could spend the whole day in bed. But I guess an "old man" like you can't keep it up all day, so maybe you should spend the day resting so you can take care of me tonight." "Oh merciful heaven, oh lord, here I am flying, without a care in the world and she slaps me back down to the ground." Burying his face in the soft skin under her ear, he mumbles, "I didn't think you'd find out." "Nope, no escape," she teases. "Let's see, what would you like for your birthday? I still have that tube of chocolate flavored body paint from Bryan's birthday party." Charles lies back on his pillow, "I cannot believe your brother would give something like that to his little sister." "He didn't do it on purpose. He gave it to Karen. Elizabeth found it on the kitchen cabinet. It was still in the box. From the look on her face, I could not let her think it was his and I didn't know what else to do, so I just said it was mine." "But you said Karen ..." She does not let him finish. Sitting up in bed, she growls, "NO! Elizabeth has enough of a problem with Karen. She's made all kinds of snide remarks. I was not going to let her have another opportunity to do it again." He puts his arm across her chest and pulls her back down on the bed. "I know baby, I know. You are always thinking of others. I just don't like to see your good intentions abused." "You are right though. I sometimes jump in and cut someone off before they can abuse another person, when somebody else might be better able to help. Only, I don't give them a chance. I'm working on it." - - - "Millie, this is Marva Preston, may I speak to Mister Tester, please," she considered waiting until Charles gets home, but believes it is something he should take care of before then. "Oh, Miss Preston, he's not here," the older woman says, sounding apologetic. "I'm not even certain where he is. He forgets to tell me where he's going sometimes." "Alright, ah ... I hate to ask, but would you take a message for me? I tried his cell phone, but it just rang and rang." "Certainly, darlin'. Is this a business question or personal question? I'm sorry, but I try to let him know what kind of calls he has to return. He prefers to wait until he is in the office to return business calls. Most of them are about something he will only have on his desk." Somewhat taken aback that Millie knows she would call Charles about something personal, she tries to keep the conversation friendly, "Oh yes, sure, I understand." Marva occasionally has the same problem when she takes calls for her employer. "Let me make this easy for you, then. When I call with a business question, I will tell you I'm calling for Thomas Rowe and I'll ask for Mister Tester. Will that help?" "That would be wonderful. Then if it's a personal call, you can just use your first name." "Alright," Marva begins her conversation from the beginning. "Millie this is Marva, may I speak to Charles, please?" "Marva," Millie responds, getting into the humor of starting the phone call from the beginning. "That lunk head left here like his tail was on fire and did not tell me where he was going." "Oh my, the yardman was here. There's a bad wet spot in the back yard. He thinks there may be a problem with the automatic sprinkler. In fact, he's afraid the line may be broken." "That probably means a plumber is needed, don't you think?" Millie asks. "Yes, either, that, or the sprinkler system installer. Jose said it is worst at a sprinkler head. He thinks it may have been leaking for a while. I noticed the pressure at the kitchen sink was low this morning." "Goodness," Millie exclaims. "Look, I know this installer. He takes care of the office fire sprinkler system, too. Give me your cell phone number, in case I need to call you. I'll call him and get him out there and we won't have to wait for Charles to pull his head out of his ... well, I'll take care of it. It may save me ordering another glass top for his desk. He's gonna cut his fist slamming it down on that desk some day." "Get a sheet of that thick plastic to put on top of his desk instead, acrylic or something like that," Marva suggests. "You get it cut to the size you want and it's easier to write on than hard glass." "Really? I'm going to order some now. Tell me where to get it." "Give me your email address, and I'll send you a link." "Marva, I can't do that stuff. That dang computer works has a bug again," Millie sounds very frustrated. She seldom complains, just takes Charles's moods in stride and keeps on going. "Charles said to just turn the whole thing off 'til he can get someone who knows what's what before anyone turns their machine on and that was two days ago. I can't write checks and payroll is due out in the morning." "Alright, I'll send my friend, Billy Boy, out there to get you up and running again. Don't let Charles do this to you again. Call me and I'll help you." "Bless your heart darlin'. Bless your heart." - - - With the beef chunks browned and slowly cooking in thin gravy, water being kept hot waiting for the noodles, plus two fresh vegetables steaming on the back burners, Marva is tearing lettuce for a salad, when Charles walks in the back door. He puts his arms around Marva and lifts her inches off the floor, kissing her hard. Then he lowers her to the floor and gives her a quick peck on the lips. "That hug and kiss was from Millie. I'll show you mine later. I'll also take a good look at yours," he threatens, dodging out of her way when she tries to swat him. "Millie says she will retire if you will come to work with her, long enough for her to train you as her replacement," he passes along the message and then adds a comment from himself. "Don't you dare, she'd be dead in six months." His voice slowly fades as he walks down the hall to change his clothes. Marva says quietly, under her breath, "Not on your life. If we spent all day and all night together, one, or both of us, would be reduced to a puddle of sweat and two eyeballs." She likes the comment so much she is softly chuckling to herself when the house telephone rings. She allows it to ring two more times before picking it up. "Tester residence." "Oh ... ah ..., I was ... Marva? Is that you, Marva?" Giving a silent groan, Marva says, "Yes, Elizabeth, can I help you?" "I did call Charles number, right? I was going to ... What on earth are you doing there?" "Just a moment, let me get Charles for you," placing the receiver on the kitchen cabinet, Marva goes down the hall to tell Charles to pick up the bedroom telephone, but the shower is running. She lifts the bedroom telephone and tells Elizabeth, "I'll have to ask him to return your call. Bye-bye," and hangs up as quickly as she can. She makes a quick dash to the kitchen, to replace that receiver and goes back to the bedroom. Stepping out of the shower, Charles sees her, "So, you couldn't wait to see mine, huh?" "Elizabeth called," she tries for nonchalance, but does not succeed. "And what did "Her Majesty" want?" "She recognized my voice," Marva explains and cannot prevent a little quiver from invading her comment. Charles laughs, thinks about it for a moment, and then laughs even harder. "Oh boy, that's like a general broadcast, all points bulletin." Still chuckling, he pulls on his favorite, faded, walking shorts and picks up his comb, while Marva sits on the bed, slightly embarrassed and beginning to fume that he is taking this so lightly. "Charles, THIS IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER!" she explodes, pounding her fists on her knees. Not the least perturbed by her outburst, he says, "Well, you didn't really think you could keep it a secret that you enjoy my fucking, now did you?" He asks her, advancing toward her, taunting her, as if he is a predator on patrol for a tempting morsel. "CHARLES ..." she says, in her most menacing tone. He walks right past her, saying, as he leaves the room, "I think I'll have a sign painted for the front yard, "Marva Preston Sleeps In My Bed"." Off the bed and walking quickly to catch up with him, she adds to her frustration, "And just tell me, how Millie would know that I'm calling about something personal? What did you tell her?" Continuing to walk toward the kitchen, and then lifting the lids off pots on the stove, he says, "I gave her the cookies out of my lunch, which my Baby packed for me yesterday, and she asked who liked me well enough to make homemade cookies for me. I told her, "Unlike you, you old hag, Marva Preston thinks I'm special enough for homemade cookies." I swear. That's all I said. But she ain't dumb, either. Is that stuff in there," he asks, holding up one of the lids and looking into the pot again, "Cauliflower or that new stuff, broccliflower, or whatever it's called?" "Yes, its cauliflower, broccliflower is green. Put the lid down, it's not done yet." Surprising her, he turns, puts his hands around her waist and lifts her to sit on the kitchen cabinet and moves between her knees. "I don't know how you thought you could keep it a secret that you're living with me. In fact, I'm surprised the whole town doesn't know we've been fucking each other for several months. Neither of us has tried to hide anything. I'm not that kind of person anyway. When I pursue a woman, she knows it and half the people around her can smell it within a few days." "Oh Charles," she complains putting her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. "I didn't mean to do this to you. I was being selfish and didn't think about anything but wanting to know if all we have going for us is sex. I'm sorry." "Baby, you are free, white, and twenty-one. So am I. As long as we aren't doing anything illegal, whatever two consenting adults are comfortable with the rest of them can go to hell." He kisses her forehead, "Now, will you please feed me, or I'll start taking your clothes off and feast upon you instead. We might get the cabinet wet, we might sling some of this food around the walls, and break a few dishes, but it would be fun." "Okay, sit down and open your mail. I'll finish here." Remembering why she called Millie, Marva jumps down from the cabinet and asks, "Oh, did Millie tell you about the broken sprinkler head?" "Yes, and thank you. That could have gotten expensive and messy." Ripping open an envelope, he tells her, "Come sign this. That dumb banker would not let me add you to my bank account, something about some bank laws, which he probably doesn't even understand. So, this is a separate account that will automatically transfer money from my account so you can buy groceries and stuff. I'll get a debit card for you. It will be easier for Millie to keep track of, rather than checks." "Is this necessary? I'm not going to take over your life." He chuckles, "Yes, this is necessary. You cannot afford to feed me, even if I would allow you to try. Just sign it and answer the marked questions. Don't make a federal case out of it. Just do it." "Yes, Master," she replies, takes the pen from the tablet she uses for her grocery list, and walks toward the table. "Marva ..." he warns. "Ugg, you brute, me woman," she adds, just to be contrary. "Oh lord," he groans, leaning back in his chair, "Why do I let you tease me like this? I'm supposed to be a sane, sober, adult male, and this tiny little thing burrows under my skin and turns me into a panting, submissive, heap, of little more than of quivering cock and burning balls. Feed me and take me to bed before I forget about food and ravish your luscious pussy." As she leans over to sign the forms and answer the questions, Charles runs his hand up the inside of her thigh, as she separates her legs for him, giving him the access he seeks. He puts his fingers inside the crotch of her panties and sticks a finger up her pussy, pulls his hand out and sucks on the finger, as she watches. Men in Her Life Ch. 04 "Yum," he tries to grab her, but she backs away from him and begins to fill his plate with his supper. She needs to feed this man, or their whole meal will ruin if he gets any more impatient. "Go wash your hands and eat," she tells him. "I will not," he says, adamant and strong in his determination. "I just had a shower and the only thing I could have on my hands is your pussy juice. I'm going to have it all over me, and down my throat, in an hour. And don't blush, you know what I'm going to do to you and you love every bit of it." Talking as he eats, he watches her and tells her, "I'll push my cock into your pussy and slam into you until you're groaning and pleading for me to fuck you harder. Won't you?" He watches her face as she looks at him and nods. "But you don't like to admit that you want me just a badly as I want you. You're going to learn. I'm going to play with your pussy every night, as long as I have the strength and only let you rest when you take those other pills in the mornings and I might think about it a few times, even then. I've never done that to a woman before, I might like it." "Charles, are you unusual? No wait, I mean, do all men want sex every day? Or do they just want it and not get it, or I don't even know what I'm asking, do I?" She shakes her head, unsure of why she even asked the question. "Yes, Marva, you do know what you are asking. And I believe you want to fuck as much as I do. A healthy, sexually mature male, wants sex every day and many want it more than once a day. There are days when I'm like that, but I don't force it." "It's not force," she says quietly. "No, baby, it's not force," his voice softens. "I guess I don't fuck you in the morning, because it seems to take so much of your energy. You are this tiny little thing. I don't know where you get the energy from. I'm a big hulking brute. I can carry you around this house and barely break a sweat. But I've watched what you do and wonder how you manage. You work all day, come home and cook our supper. We may not do anything strenuous in the evening, but I take you to bed and fuck more energy from you than I use of my own and you are still bright eyed enough in the morning to go walk five miles." Blushing furiously, Marva tells him, "I do not know if I like morning ... except for those three nights ... I'm not ... I guess I don't understand. I know you have ... in the mornings you have an erection ... does that always mean ...." Putting his knife and fork down, Charles reaches over and lightly brushes her cheek, "Oh lord, the embarrassment I cause you, with my crude words, how can you forgive me?" "I don't mind. I want to know. I am a better ... I guess the word is, lover, if I understand." "Baby, I'm not sure I could handle you any better. You aren't aggressive, but you yield to me, totally. You engage me to perform, like I have never known myself to, with any other woman. God, it could not be any better. Let's just keep what we have, as long as we are satisfied with each other and not ask for anything more than the pleasure we receive. I have what I want, a woman who comes to me, when I want her, and returns all I give ten-fold. If you want more, you need but ask. I will give you as much as I can and take joy in the giving." Unable to find a voice to comment to his remarks, she nods and resumes her meal, knowing she is wet and waiting for his hands on her. - - - "Good grief, Marva. I'm not sure I want to get up at six o'clock in the morning, just to meet a man," Callie complains. "If I promise you, that you will not regret it, will you meet me, anyway?" Marva asks, grinning about the delicious prospect of seeing the expression on Callie's face when she meets Richard Farnsworth. "Besides, Callie," she adds, "I can promise you, that you will loose those ten pounds before the wedding. That's worth getting up early. Isn't it?" "Oh, alright, but this one better be good. Why didn't you tell me that David Wells is a lecherous predator?" Callie complains and offers her own story of her first real date with the man, more than a month ago. "Wait a minute," Marva complains. "I did tell you. You were just more interested in looking than listening. Hey, I gotta go. Six fifteen, tomorrow morning at the high school practice track. See ya, bye-bye." "Wait a second," Callie says, before Marva can hang up. "Elizabeth says we have a thing to go to tomorrow night. She wants all the attendants. I'll be glad when all this is over. I'm tired of her wedding and all the mess around the house. Bryan is welcome to her." Both girls laugh at how Elizabeth has managed to engross her sister and friends in her wedding arrangements, repeatedly calling upon them to attend a function or asking one or more of them to host a party or provide themselves to wait upon her hand and foot. The only person not tired of the swiftly approaching wedding, is Elizabeth. Bryan is probably tired of it too, but would not dare let his intended bride know. Perched on her favorite sitting place, the top step of a short step stool Charles brought inside for her to use because she cannot reach things he has put away, Marva is watching a skillet where chicken is browning. Charles is standing in front of her, being quiet as soon as he heard her say Callie's name and when Marva put her finger up to her lips to prevent him kissing her, for fear the smooch would be heard over the cell phone. As soon as she folds her phone, he leans over and kisses her, and whispers in her ear, "I'd rather eat you than that chicken." "You can have both, if you will give me a few minutes to add the mushroom soup, and turn the burner down." Marva makes the offer, standing to do as she said, and then following him down the hall. "Did you remember that Elizabeth expects all of us at some "thing" tomorrow night?" Charles groans, "Yes, how many more weeks of this celebration, turned to torture, do I have to put up with?" "Three, I think, yeah, three weeks and a couple of days. Ah ... I work tomorrow and then I have a whole week off work. It's the rest of my vacation days." "Am I going to like the reason you are taking a week off work?" He has already learned she decides these things and tells him about it after making the decision, but will discuss it. He is not often successful at changing her mind, although he still tries, sometimes just to be obstreperous, which she allows and teases him to her way of thinking and other times he enjoys the way her mind works. Only when he is dead set against something, does he let her know the answer is an unequivocal "NO" and after stating his reasons, she is amenable. "Probably not," she answers easily and climbs up on the bed, waiting for him to question her. "I want to go to work with you." "No." He does not pause to think about it or ask her why she wants to see what he does all day. The answer is simple. "No." "Why?" She does not seem disturbed that he would deny her the opportunity to follow him around. She just sounds curious. "It's too dangerous." "If I promise to stay in the car, may I go with you?" "Baby, you know how I have to get insurance clearance for an inspector. You've submitted the requests for clearances. I will take a couple of days off and spend them with you, but I will not take you to the worksite." "Can I watch from across the road?" "You can't see anything from there, except the scaffolding." "I know." He turns to looks at her, pulling his boots off and peeling his socks off, tossing them in the hamper. "So, you've driven by there, and you think you will know more about it, if I take you inside?" She nods, not liking to admit that she is so interested in what he does. "I just want to know." "Ah ...," he finally understands. "You want to know that I'm safe. Is that it?" Marva nods and sits quietly, waiting to see what he will say. Instead he pulls his work shirt off, walks to the bed, and sits beside her. "Come here," he says, patting his thigh. It is the way he asks her to sit on his lap, facing him, her legs astride him, her knees hugging his hips. He can put his arms around her, and she can do the same to him. He did not like it at first. He felt she was playing on his emotions the first few times she sat on his lap. But now he asks it of her, almost every day. She is such a small thing, compared to his size, and he feels protective of her when he can hold her like this. She shakes her head, and when he continues to pat his leg, she complies, although she sits stiffly. He raises his eyebrows, as if to ask what is her problem, but she shakes her head. She either does not want to tell him, or she does not know. "Just tell me what is going on inside that little head of yours," he asks. "So I'll know what kind of an argument to make." She shakes her head again. This two week experiment she initiated has lengthened to several months. Karen and Cynthia are happy in the apartment, which is why Marva did not pack her clothes and leave Charles or find her own place to live, although he said he did not want her to leave. In fact, every day, as the end of the two weeks neared, Charles asked if she would be "home" when he got home after work. And he continued to ask the same question in the days after the end of the first two weeks. It has become fairly common knowledge that she is living with him, at least among their friends and family. However, no one has actually asked either of them if their arrangement is going to be made permanent. Most of them know at least one couple with some kind of similar living arrangement and it is just accepted that the couple is doing what they want to do, despite what society or parents say is proper. She arranged for the rest of her vacation before the telephone call today, and is now wishing she had told Charles sooner, because he is going to explode when she relays the message. So, she may as well get it over with, or as Callie explains it, "let it all hang out." "I'm sorry I didn't say something sooner about taking the rest of my vacation. It just wasn't important when I talked to Mister Rowe. He likes for me to take the days a few at a time, instead of leaving him short handed for the whole two weeks. He wouldn't mind if I take it all at one time, but I really can't afford a big trip and I always have a list of things I want to do on my days off. I still have my extra two days. I'm going to save them for the two days before Bryan's wedding. But I need a few days right now to make Elizabeth's gift bags." "Yeah, I told Millie I'd probably be out of pocket for much of those two days, too." Charles grimaces about all the extra time it's taking him away from his job, too. "I just found out that Callie's Mom and Dad had to get a loan for Elizabeth's wedding," Marva admits. "I mean I know he's your uncle and that he's disabled and all." "And you know he was injured on the job, doing the same work I do?" He asks and watches the expression on her face. She does not tell him that Bryan has just discovered the huge loan Elizabeth's parents have and is telling them he will repay the loan. Instead, barely above a whisper, Marva tells him, "Your mother called today." "Uh oh," he tries to make it sound unimportant, but doesn't quite make it. "I answered the phone," she continues. "It's okay baby, I know how she can make people feel." "Before I knew who it was, she asked me, "You are the maid, I presume?" and I said, "No, I'm Marva, can I help you?" but she didn't ... she said she does not speak to the hired help. She asked that I remind you she will be in town for the last week of the month and then said, "Never mind, I shall call his office and speak with Millie. None of his women seem to deliver the messages I leave for him." It was like I wasn't capable of ... never mind. I'm just ... I guess I need to go find an apartment, as I should have done in the beginning." "And if I tell you I don't want you to do that?" He asks, not sure what reason he is going to give if she asks for one. Holding her chin up, although it is trembling, she says, "She ... I mean ... Your mother will be here for a whole week. You should not ... she will want to ... I'm in your way. I need to ...." Instead of saying anything more, he kisses her, and continues to kiss her. His kiss turns rough and demanding, pulling a stronger and stronger response from her. He turns and forces her onto her back, leaning on top of her, pulling up her shirt and pulling her bra above her breasts, kneading them, and then putting his hands on her sides, burying his face into the deep cleavage he forms by pushing her breasts together. With little thought to what he is doing, other than surrounding himself with her, he is pulling her pants and underwear down, as she helps, getting at least one foot free, and he is moving to suck both of her pussy lips into his mouth, growling out his frustration, sending vibrations into her very core. Pushing her further onto the bed, he gets his feet under him as she reaches for him, opening his belt buckle and pushing his pants and shorts down, freeing his cock and pushing his face away to guide his cock into her pussy. He slams into her a few times and stops. "Don't you stop now, dammit. Fuck me Charles, oh god, fuck me, hard." And he does, moving against her, pushing her farther across the bed until her head is hanging off the other side. Her first climax is an explosion. She arches her back, straightens her thighs, and lifts her shoulders, jerks her head up and slams her chin into his forehead just as his weight comes back down on top of her. She feels his balls tighten as she sees stars and literally throws him off of her. She moves faster than he can catch her and has his cock in her mouth catching his cum as it begins to burst from the end of his cock, laughing as she swallows, chokes and buries her face in the rough hair at the base of his cock. She lays beside him, quietly, his softening cock deep in the moist warmth of her mouth with his hands buried in her hair. When she can move, she is on her knees laughing, her hands on his shoulders, and she is shaking him, "I did it Charles. I finally did it. It went all the way down my throat. I did it. Oh wow, I didn't gag or anything. Oh wow, yum." "You crazy damn fool, you almost bit my cock off." He laughs, putting his arms around her, rolling over on top of her and then rolling over again, with her on top of him, "Lord, I love ...." He stops suddenly, puts his hand behind her head and pushes her head to rest against him, closes his eyes and prays aloud, "Merciful heaven, what have I done to deserve this woman?" "I love it, too. Charles, I really do. I love it, too," she says against his skin, sticking her tongue out to tickle him. "Ah..., could you reach behind me and unhook my bra, it's about to choke me." She is silent for a moment and then says, "You better let me up. I need to check the bed for blood. My period should have started yesterday." Although he knows the answer to the question, he asks anyway. "You didn't miss one of your pills last month, did you?" "You know better than that. You watch me take it every morning when I brush my teeth. Yes, I took all the pills, one a day. I've been a day late before. The doctor says it's not rocket science, it female hormones and there's no such thing as two of them alike." - - - Thanks for reading this work. Please vote to indicate how much you enjoyed it, and leave comments or feedback if you can spare the time. Your votes and feedback are the only way I will know how much you enjoyed my effort, and furnish the only means to improve my writing. Thanks again, 2Xwidderwoman Men in Her Life Ch. 05 This is the fifth of six chapters. Marva suffers a sports injury and visits her doctor, adding more problems to her life. This is a long story, broken down into six chapters. If you would like to read the other chapters, click on my ID above. Enjoy, 2Xwidderwoman * Although she goes through her usual warm up routine, and makes sure Callie does the same, Marva begins to feel strain in the back of one thigh before she finishes the first mile. Callie asks about the bruise on her chin, but Marva brushes it off as bending to look in a cabinet and not realizing her head was so close to the cabinet top. She easily introduces Callie and Richard, both of them mentioning that they have heard of each other, from Marva. However, by the end of the first mile, Callie and Richard are helping Marva off the track, because she does not want to put weight on her left leg. She insists they finish their walk and leave her sitting on the bottom seat of the nearby bleachers, her leg stretched out in front of her, waiting for the muscles to stop cramping. The next time Callie looks up, from inviting Richard to her informal Friday after-work Happy Hour, and today's lunch, if it's not too short notice, Marva is gingerly walking toward her car waving at them.From the location and the feeling of the pain, Marva knows this is probably a hamstring strain. The first thing she does is drive around to the side of the high school to see if her friend's car, the girl's physical education teacher, is in the parking lot. After a little massage, a compression bandage, and an ice pack, plus a promise she will take the day off, Marva is back at home, before Charles leaves for work. Awkwardly moving her wrapped leg out from under the steering wheel, she accidentally bumps the car horn, which makes a single beep. Charles sticks his head out of the kitchen door, thinking she might have stopped at the store and needs help with bags, not realizing it is at least another hour before a grocery store will be open. She stands and hops a couple of steps and hears Charles say, "I'll call you later," and folds his phone, putting it in his pocket at the same time he reaches Marva, obvious fear showing on his face. Despite telling him she just needs a little help to walk, he picks her up and gets her to his bed, in minutes she convinces him it is just a simple strain and will be alright in a few days. She laughs that it is fortuitous for her boss, she is on vacation and he will not be inconvenienced more than he expected. She can be paid a sick day, too. "To hell with Thomas Rowe," Charles says, angry she is thinking of someone else before herself. "Charles, I'm alright. Well, I will be in a couple of days. I'll go to the doctor after his office opens. He will do a blood test and give me some pain pills, refer me to a massage therapist, and tell me to use my crutches for a few days." "I'll take you to the doctor," he instructs her. He pulls pillows off of the other beds to prop them under her knee, asking if the ice pack will leak or sweat, and does she need a towel under her leg. He returns from the bathroom with water and an aspirin, which she refuses to take, she can handle the pain until she sees the doctor. "Go finish your phone calls. I'll be good," she assures him. "I'll stay right here until it's time to go to the doctor." "I was finished with my phone call," he announces, standing with his hands on his hips, staring down at Marva. "I'm not sure Mother had finished telling me everything she wanted to say, because I wasn't really listening to her. But I did tell her what I wanted to say." "Charles," Marva chides him in the voice she uses to say he should not say things like that. He grins at her and winks, as if he considers his remark a joke. She has learned he uses sarcasm when he would much rather use physical means to show his displeasure. "At least go call Millie and let her know you're going to be late." "Aw, she's not expecting me in the office today anyway," Charles says as an excuse for not calling his secretary. "Call her anyway. Someone from the work site will be looking for you and it's easier for her to handle things if she knows she needs to, instead of looking for you and then calling everyone back. Save her a little work." "Alright, okay, I know, think about someone else instead of just myself. Women are always thinking of others," he says as he leaves the bedroom, asking if she would like a cup of coffee. - - - "The Ring" was the subject of the conversation between Charles and his mother, which he ended when he walked out to the garage, thinking Marva needed help with groceries and found her limping. Although he and his mother had a conversation about his two times great-grandmother's multiple diamond ring, several years ago, and again more than a month ago, he was calling her to remind her to bring it with her when she comes for Elizabeth's wedding. Grace said, "Charles, I'm still wearing the ring." His response was firm, "Mother, during your last three trips to the doctor, you have NOT had the ring on your hand." She tried to sound offended by attacking him, "I do not believe I should be asked to relinquish MY RING so you can give it to some little tart." "I will not involve myself in an argument with you. Dad's will provided otherwise and there is no reason I should need to do anything more than ask you to return it to me." Changing the subject before she has a chance to carry the conversation any further, he asks, "Have you made your hotel arrangements. Elizabeth has a block of rooms reserved for friends and family. I will do that for you, if you like." Turning on the syrup, she replies "Oh yes, dah'ling, I should be ever so grateful if you would do that for me. I am so stretched for time, some days. I just put things like that off and dates creep upon me before I am prepared. By-the-by, would you send me an extra four hundred this month? I shall need something really nice for the wedding." "You check is in the mail," he informs her and tries not to grit his teeth as he says it. "I've sent you an extra two-fifty. Your budget should be able to add what that extra amount does not cover." "But dah'ling, I shall need to wear something really nice for the rehearsal dinner and other events. I presume as a favorite Aunt of the bride, I am to be included in some of those things?" Shaking his head, although he knows she cannot see, he tells her, "You should talk to Aunt Polly or Elizabeth about that. It takes enough of my time away from work with what I have to do. If I think about it, I'll mention it to Liz, but don't count on it. She is so disorganized it takes half of Callie's time to keep her up on what she has to do for her self. Liz absolutely does not consider anyone else." "I was not fortunate to have a daughter of my own." Listening to his mother repeat something she has said at least a thousand times, Charles closes his eyes and tries not to allow his anger to enter the conversation. "But I have always thought of Elizabeth as the daughter of my heart." "Yes Mother, I know." At that point he went to help Marva, his mother's comment still ringing in his ear. - - - Marva and Charles have been waiting to see Doctor Miller for almost half an hour. Because his nurse is familiar with Marva, during that time, she has already sent a lab technician in to take a blood test. The instructions for massage therapy are half completed and a prescription for a mild pain medication is written in the new computer program and ready to be printed. When Doctor Miller walks into the treatment room, he is looking at a paper in his hands saying, "Congratulations Marva, but it's a little early to tell you if it's a girl or a boy." Charles is on his feet, yelling, "WHAT!" and Marva has just turned pale enough for the doctor to fear she will faint. What follows is confusion, assurance Marva has not missed a pill, and the doctor's amazement that Marva's test really shows she is pregnant. He knows the pills are not one hundred percent effective, but he has never had a patient become pregnant taking that particular pill. The doctor leaves the room for a few minutes, ostensibly to make sure the lab technician did not get blood samples mixed up, but actually to give Marva and Charles a few minutes to get over the initial shock. The few minutes the doctor gives them, is spent in near silence. Color slowly returns to Marva's face and Charles resumes his seat, his arms folded across his chest, as he stares across the room at a certificate on the doctor's wall, perhaps wondering where this quack got his license. When Doctor Miller returns and assures them the technician did not mix blood samples, he explains that he cannot prescribe pain pills for Marva, but can give her something to relax the strained muscles, which should work about as well. Everything else, she knows how to do, but he reviews his instructions anyway, still watching the emotions of these two who received news they had not expected. He also hands her several pamphlets about pregnancy and tells her to make another appointment in a couple of months. Rather than let her walk, Charles carries her back out to his car, the nurse opening doors for them. When he is behind the steering wheel, he does not speak, nor does she. Instead he pays attention to traffic and Marva stares out the passenger window, still trying to absorb the result of what she has done to this man. "Charles," she says quietly, holding out her keys for him, "Will you drive by Karen's and go upstairs for my crutches. I called her. She should have put them right inside the door." "Okay. I think I have some in the garage, but they would need lots of adjustments for you. Yeah, it's probably better to go get yours." It seems easier to concentrate upon immediate needs and leave other concerns for another time when the mind can deal with them. For both of them, the temptation to burst into tears is almost as great as the temptation to laugh for sheer joy. Perhaps their reasons for the extremes of emotions are different, but the emotions strike each of them from moment to moment. Charles holds his smile until he is riding the elevator up to Karen's apartment. Marva holds her tears for the same amount of time. Charles holds his tears until he has Marva back at home, on the bed and Marva holds her smile for the same amount of time. Leaving her with a glass of water, and a pill, Charles is back in the kitchen, and then in his study, wandering around the house, looking at things that have changed in his home since Marva came to live with him. Instead of a bare table in the kitchen, placemats indicate where each of them sits for a meal. The once empty countertops have a few things, used frequently, in corners and decorations around the room, an indication it is now a home, instead of a house. Rooms which see little use are neat and clean because she insists the weekly maid vacuums and dusts the whole house, not just the parts of the house she and Charles use. All of his expensive wood furniture glows since she gave the maid a good cleaner instead of the quick spray on cleaner she was using. Marva, lying on the big bed, looks around the bedroom, recalling it as it was, the first time he brought her back to this room. The door to her combination dressing room and closet is closed. Her nightgown is hanging from the hook on the other side of the door of the closet on the other side of the room, ready to be worn the few nights of her menstrual cycle. The door to his combination dressing room and closet is slightly ajar. The tip of one of his steel toe boots has kept the door from closing fully. Walking quietly down the hall, Charles sees Marva is lying with her eyes closed. She did hear him, however. "Hi, Honey," she says easily, not opening her eyes. "Will you do me a favor?" Charles asks, quietly. When he sees her nod, he asks, "Will you give me until Saturday before we have any kind of discussion about what the doctor said?" "Yes." "I'm going to call Elizabeth and tell her we won't make her party, reception, or whatever thing she is having tonight." "Oh good, I hadn't thought about doing that. I hope she won't be upset," Marva says and then chuckles. "But I'm happy to miss one of her events. Maybe as happy as you are." "I knew you had it in ya," he says laughing at her. "Would you like me to fix you something for lunch, before I leave?" "No, you don't need to do that. I'll give the muscle pill a little while to work and I can fix us something." "Hey, you think I can't take care of you?" He tries to bluster, but it does not come out as strongly as he wishes. "You just stay there and tell me what you want." "Oh, I don't care, just something easy." "How would you like a grill cheese and a glass of milk?" "Okay, if you will bring me one of those lactose pills." While Charles is in the kitchen, she hears him talking on his telephone, but cannot make out any of what he's saying. When he appears with her sandwich and milk, he mentions that he looked at the label, but cannot tell if it is safe for her to take one of them. However, he leaves the room without saying anything further about the pregnancy, and returns later to take her plate. He says Elizabeth reported that Callie told her about the muscle strain and excuses them from the evening's event, and then he leans over to kiss her, saying he will be home early, he hopes. Although she objects, he takes her to physical therapy the next two days and waits to take her back home, agreeing, when the therapist says it is okay for Marva to drive after the weekend. Friday afternoon Charles calls to see if Marva is up to an hour at The Hot Spot for one of Callie's impromptu networking Happy Hour meetings. Marva declines. The walk across the parking lot is rough. There are stairs to climb up to the front door and more steps to walk down to get to the corner which Callie prefers. He promises he won't be late and says he will bring bar-be-q or something similar for their supper, so she won't need to stand and cook. "I met Richard Farnsworth," Charles reports, looking at a business card he placed beside his plate. "That's your Richard, right?" "I don't think he's my Richard. But, yes, that's Richard. Was he following Callie around?" Charles laughs, "Oh man, was he ever. I think he's smitten. Callie might talk to other people around the room, but she looks at this Richard the whole time. I like him." "Yes, I do too." She leans over and gives him a greasy, bar-be-q flavored kiss, and then licks the bar-be-q sauce off of his lips. "Hey, watch it lady. I'm spoken for. There's this little woman, I'd hate to tell you how much injury she can do. I've got a cut on my head, a knot on my forehead, which I had to lie about, and other injuries I'll not mention in mixed company." "Oh yeah? I hear she's injured, that might slow her down some," Marva loves his teasing. It is especially wonderful, because it is such a contrast to his darker moods. "Aw, don't let that fool ya. She's a tough one. Baby, you are a tough one, too. I've seen grown men crumble from the same kind of injury you had. Don't frighten me like that again." "I didn't do it on purpose," she tries to explain. "I stretched like I always do. I don't recall stepping wrong. I was going slower than usual because Callie was with me. Oh well, sports injuries are difficult to explain." "A sports equipment company will be here sometime early tomorrow morning to set up a treadmill machine. I couldn't think about this happening again." "Charles, you don't need to do that." "Yes, I do need to do it," he says vehemently, and then softens his tone. "We can take the bed apart in that bedroom you used the first couple of weeks. That will give you room for your sewing machine, too. I should have done it before now, I just wasn't thinking." "I know I promised to wait, but can we ... I need to tell you ... I'll go have an ...," and then she cannot say any more. She does not know what to say. "NO! DAMMIT, NO! AND DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT WORD IN MY PRESENCE," he yells at her, standing and walking toward the hall door. "Good god, what do you think I am, some kind of Neanderthal who just fucks his conquest and leaves her lying in the brush?" Marva sits quietly, not allowing her tears to fall, looking up praying she can hold herself together long enough for Charles to get his initial burst of temper out of his system so he will sit down and talk to her. She continues to sit quietly as she hears him walk into his study and slam the door. Instead of letting it get to her, Marva stands and puts away the remainder of their meal. He will be hungry in another hour or two, looking for something. He will find the plate of bar-be-q in the refrigerator and eat it cold or warm it up. She has learned it takes a lot of fuel to keep his body going and rather than fill up on what she thinks of as junk food, she leaves bags of vegetables and other healthy snacks in plain sight, either in the refrigerator, or on the kitchen cabinet, and he devours them, comes back for more and then eats everything she prepares for the next meal. Instead of bothering him, she goes to the spare bedroom and spends time threading the ribbon into the drawstring casing at the tops of the small bags Elizabeth will fill with special things she wants to give to her attendants and a few relatives. Marva shakes her head, at the silly expense of sending the material to have Elizabeth and Bryan's names, plus the date of the wedding, monogrammed onto the material and then asking Marva to make the bags. But it is what Elizabeth wants and Bryan is her brother, so Marva is doing it. Around bedtime Charles has not emerged from his study, so Marva brushes her teeth, takes another pill, turns down the bed and pulls the covers up over her shoulders, lying quiet and still, hoping sleep will come quickly. Sometime later, how much longer, she does not know, she feels Charles move behind her and pull her into his arms. She rolls over and is kissing him without thought, moving her hands over him, pleading with him, moving on top of him and pushing her breast into his mouth. Her frenzy fuels his, as she moves down his body. He holds her head to him, twisting and turning until she has his cock in her mouth, her tongue going around and around the head of his cock, her teeth nipping at the foreskin as he pumps his hips and she takes him into her mouth as he explodes. He puts his hands under her arms and drags her up his body, begging her to answer his questions. "Where does it come from, this desire I have for you? What is there inside this tiny body I abuse so badly that makes me into a wild man? Will I never cease to need you? God in heaven, please don't ever let that happen to us." Marva starts to roll off of him and he holds her hips to keep her from moving. "No Baby, stay. I can't let you go, yet. I just need to hold you." He kisses her neck, "I need the taste of you in my mouth and the feel of your breasts against me. How is it possible that you allow me to take so much from you and give you nothing in return?" He does not allow her to move, until his breathing is slower and back to normal. Finally allowing her to slide off of him, he wraps himself around her, talking to her softly, whispering to her, his words sometimes rambling and disjointed, as if he is pouring out descriptions of pictures he sees in his mind. He talks about his father, a weak man who only wanted a woman to love him and could not force a selfish woman to bend to his weak will. He speaks of a pampered woman who required the men in her life to worship her and lavish her with gifts and their attention, using them up, wearing them out, and destroying their will to live, or rebel against her. He describes her brother, whom she demanded share his near failing business with her husband so she could share in its wealth, although there never was any to share. He tells of joining his father and Uncle Horace, working harder than he thought possible to build the company into something that would support the uncle's growing family and satisfy his mother's greed. He watched Elizabeth practice her Aunt Grace's grasping nature and learn to take from her father whatever she wanted, needed, or thought she might like to have, without regard to the other family member's wants or needs. He watched Callie rebel against those same influences and laughs at his mother's futile attempts to push Callie into the same kind of manipulative nature. He thanks whatever fate decided it that he does not have sisters, remarking that he could never have managed to support another open mouth at the trough of Tester Constructors. He chuckles as he describes watching Bryan act like he is catering to Elizabeth's needs and allows her to think she is winning and he sees that wall she slams into when Bryan allows her to go no farther as she backs down and turns to pet him back into a good humor. Maybe if his dad had tried that a few times his mother might have been a happier person. As his voice dies down and his breathing deepens, he says it has taken him almost ten years but he is finally going to rid himself of all the blood suckers and maybe, just maybe he can share something with someone who will appreciate it. Men in Her Life Ch. 05 Marva moves away from him, as Charles rolls over into his most comfortable sleeping position. She trembles at the intensity of the words he used, wondering what is in store for her in the coming months. Should she move back into the small apartment, to live with Karen? Or, will Karen be so happy with Cynthia that she will not have room, time, or emotion, for her younger sister? What will Thomas Rowe do when he learns his dependable right-hand helper is pregnant and facing weeks of maternity leave? If she stays in her present position, she will eventually have a full career and may even be paid well enough to support herself and a child. But that day is some years away and the child will be here long before then. Her hands and shoulders shaking and her head swimming, Marva falls asleep, dreaming of things being taken away from her, snatched from her hands, and being pushed aside as other people race past her, while she falls farther and farther behind, her leg aching from the strain of trying to keep up with the rest of the crowd. - - - Marva sleeps late, waking to the sound of men's voices. She dresses slowly, her movements awkward, her head aching as she brushes her teeth and looks at the brown pills in the pill pack on the bathroom shelf. When she walks out of the bedroom, the mattress and box springs of a bed are leaning against the wall in the hall, the headboard and footboard leaning against them. "Good morning, Baby," Charles greets her happily, as he turns on the vacuum cleaner, moving it over the big square of carpet where the bed has been for several years, as men on the other side of the room, open boxes and begin to pull metal parts out of them. Rather than be in the way, she isn't strong enough to help them anyway, she goes to the kitchen and drinks the last cup of coffee. Charles walks up behind her, puts his arms around her and kisses her on the nape of the neck as he opens a kitchen drawer and removes a screwdriver then whistles as he returns to the bedroom. She stirs the chopped onion browning in the bottom of her largest pot as she continues to cut up the large lean roast, adding the flour dusted chunks of meat to the onions and starts peeling potatoes, cutting them up and leaving the chunks on the cabinet in a bowl full of water and then does another of carrots. By the time the meat is browned and slowly simmering, Charles is calling her so the men from the sports equipment store can show her how to operate her treadmill. It is a huge machine, because Charles says he can use it too, he has gained almost ten pounds since Marva started cooking his meals and he never takes the time to use his health club membership any more. As the men begin to collect the boxes and packing, Charles convinces them to help him carry the bed parts to the storage room at the side of the garage and they manage to use the plastic wrapping from the treadmill boxes to wrap around the mattress and box springs. After closing the front door, Charles asks if she needs to stay in the kitchen to watch her stew or can she spare him some time with things he needs to discuss with her and he would prefer to do it in the study. - - - "You are not going to like some of what I want to do, but bear with me for a little while. It's taken me three months to put all of this together." Marva sits across the desk from Charles, listening to him, not sure what he is trying to tell her. But, she will listen. He is talking in his business voice. She opens her mouth, to ask him a question and he holds up his hand, as if he wants her to wait, so she leans back against the chair, puts her hands in her lap, and sits quietly. "Can you keep your job for three or four months? I think your health insurance can be converted to a private policy that will cover you until I can get you and the baby on the company policy." Unsure exactly what he wants her to do, she nods, agreeing that she will keep her job for three or four months. She wonders how much more expensive it is for her to live with him. Occasionally she will say something to him about giving him her paycheck and he always tells her to put it in the bank until she finds something special she wants to do with the money. "This big job we are working on now is finished. But there may be another month or two of punch list stuff, but the final payment will come in, within three months, at the latest. I'll be able to fund the last of Uncle Horace's annuity and that won't bleed any more from Tester Constructors." He makes this statement as if he thinks she can read between the lines of all the complicated financial arrangements he has made to protect his uncle and aunt's future and wonders how much the Blevins family costs the company. Supporting a whole family for so many years cannot have been easy, with one person working and supporting so many people. "It will eventually be income for Aunt Polly, but not an inheritance for Elizabeth or Callie. They will be on their own and the annuity can be converted to a college or retirement fund." Marva looks at him, not sure what he is saying, but he tells her that after the injury, his uncle agreed to sell his share of Blevins & Tester Constructors in exchange for a lifetime income. Although it's been tight a few times, it's been much easier than both he and his uncle needing to discuss and make every business decision. A small amount of this information she is aware of, from working for Thomas Rowe, but not to this extent. Charles's largest financial burden has always been his mother and there is nothing he can do about that, but with the next big building project, which is already beginning, he will have her financial future secured. It may not be all that she wants, but it is at least what she has now and she will just have to live with it. "She is old enough to start drawing her Social Security and that, plus her income from Tester Constructors, will see her as comfortable as I am willing to do for her. She lives in a senior assisted living condominium and I'm not going to pay for any more lavish lifestyle than that. It's better than she ever had when Dad was alive anyway, and she knows it. She cannot drive and she has full time help anytime she needs it, which is becoming more necessary each year." Marva is startled about what he pays for his mother's living expenses. Living in a condominium and having a full-time caretaker must be a horrendous expense. Although she has only seen his mother the one time, when she was walking into the expensive hotel, she was wearing very expensive clothes, plus carrying a designer handbag. His next financial disclosure has Marva standing and backing across the room. "I'll pay for any kind of wedding you want, but don't make me go through all this rigamaroll Elizabeth is foisting off on the rest of us. It's an agony I don't think I can endure." "NOT ON YOUR LIFE BUSTER," she screams at him and runs from the room, getting several steps down the hall before the pain in her leg has her doubled over groaning. Charles catches her before she hits the floor, picking her up and carrying her down the hall, yelling at her to stop struggling or he will drop her. "BE STILL!" he yells, dumping her in the middle of the bed, breathing from the exertion of carrying her and trying to keep her from falling. "WHAT IS WITH YOU?" All she can think to say quickly is, "I AM NOT GOING TO MARRY A MAN, JUST BECAUSE I LET HIM KNOCK ME UP." She screams, and then glares at him. He reaches a hand out to her, intending to brush the hair from her face and she slaps his hand away. "Knock you up? What the hell are you talking about? That's my baby, too, you loony broad. Are your hormones out of whack or something?" "My hormones? Why you ... YOU STIFF DICK. Your hormones have just as much to do with what's inside me, as mine do." She stands, and he puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME. I'm going to stir my stew," she bats his hand away as she limps across the room. Charles is two steps behind her, "You WILL marry me Marva. I am not going to allow my child to grow up without a father." Not stopping her limping gait toward the kitchen, she informs him, speaking over her shoulder. "Well, think about it for one minute, Mister Tester. This baby is inside Marva Preston and that's the name that goes on the birth certificate, whether you are there or not." She bumps her shoulder on the door facing when she turns the corner into the kitchen and stops for a moment, straightens her back and walks to the stove, carefully lifts the lid, and stirs her stew meat, limps to pick up the bowl of water and potatoes and dumps it, and then the carrots into the pot. Then she walks to sit in the kitchen chair and glares at him as he sits in the chair he usually occupies when they eat. He looks at her a moment and tries to speak calmly, "Marva, tell me what you want. And don't say, "Nothing," I hate it when women complain, but won't say what it's about. Men don't read minds very well." Taking a deep breath, Marva says, "Well, I'm beginning to think woman don't read minds very well either. You want to tell me what all of that was about?" she asks, pointing across the house toward his study. "Well, hell, a man can't get married until he knows he can support a wife and family." He points to himself, "At least, this man can't." "Well, I'm not going to get married just because I'm pregnant," she tells him, just as adamant with her opinion, as he is with his. "I agree with you. Marriage is too important. It's a lifetime commitment and a horrible thing to do to a child. I lived there too many years to know what is does to a child. Children need parents who will stay together and take care of their children." She leans toward him and says, "That's why I told Richard I wasn't interested. REMEMBER? You do remember Richard, don't you?" He stands and says, "Hell yes, I remember Richard, but that's not Richard's child. It's mine and I intend to see that he has a good life." "Well, SHE just might not turn out to have such a good life if all her mother and father do is, YELL AT EACH OTHER." Deflated, Charles sits down, "Marva, please. Okay? Please, just have a civil conversation with me." She folds her arms across her chest and says, "I'm being as civil as I can, UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES," she glares at him and would stand and walk out of the room if her leg didn't hurt so much. Charles looks up at the ceiling and says, very quietly. "If this is a girl, I hope she has at least one-half the spirit her mother has, but please make her just a little more reasonable." At the top of her voice, she tells him, "I AM NOT BEING UNREASONABLE." "THEN TELL ME WHY YOU WON'T MARRY ME." "BECAUSE YOU HAVEN'T ASKED." "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK I'M TRYING TO DO?" "Oh," she says, startled at how the information surprises her. "Oh? That's all you can say, "Oh"?" "Well, yes. Oh." And then because she really is curious, she asks, "Why?" "Why? Damn, Marva, because you're pregnant, that's why." "That's not enough of a reason," she tells him, her voice beginning to grow in strength. He can see the storm building and in an effort to forestall another eruption, he adds, "Because I want to marry you?" But perhaps, he should not have allowed that to come out as a question. "Yes, because I want to marry you," he feels a little better about that statement. In fact he feels good enough to smile. "Charles, you're crazy. You are absolutely nuts. You still don't know what you want, do you?" "O-O-O-Oh yes, I know what I want," he nods. "I've just always told you that I know what I don't want, which is also true." "Alright, then tell me what you want," she pleads, finally leaning back in her chair, but the stubborn look on her face does not soften. He takes a deep breath, tries to speak calmly, cups his hands together, and holds them out to her, "You see this? It's empty. It never was very much, but it was all I had. It was my love. I'd been holding it for so long it was compacted into a tiny little core that you could hardly see. I gave it to you that morning you asked me to make love to you. I told you I wanted it too much. That was, and is, the absolute truth. I just did not know it at the time. I was scared to death. I let you leave me that day, but the next time I saw you, I was so frightened I had to take you away from here, just to make sure you didn't hurt it. I watched you care for it for three whole days and three whole nights. When I brought you back to town, I was so frightened when I had to let you leave me. But I had to take a chance. I let you go. I even let you take it with you when you went to see another man. That was pretty brave of me, wasn't it?" By now, tears are running down Marva face, unimpeded. She does nothing to stop them, but she is smiling. Charles is on his knees in front of her, holding her hands, "I didn't know I was in love with you. I thought I was still being your fuck buddy. I thought I was not the kind of man you needed. I think I figured it out when you asked me if I would still have you if you were married to another man. I was so brutally honest with you. I told you the extremes I would go to, just to spend a couple of hours with you. That day you called me and told me you wanted me, is the first day I could breathe without shaking. It took me three months to get everything ready so I could ask you to marry me. That leg of yours just hit me about a month before I was ready for it. I knew you had two more packs of pills and I was just barely going to make it. I was going to ask you to marry me and stop taking those damn pills. I want my wife at home, taking care of our children. I want her to know I love her enough to make sure she is happy. I do not want the mother of our children to leave our home because she thinks she has to help us have a good life. If I can't do that, and take care of my responsibilities, I'm not much of a man." Through her tears and wonder, Marva asks him, "Charles, why didn't you say anything. All this time I thought ... well, I don't know what I thought, or maybe I didn't think. Yeah, I didn't think, I didn't dare think. I was too afraid it would end or that I would wake up." "Baby, men are simple people. When they have a job to do, they make their plans and then go do the job. I have a job to do. My job is to take care of you and our baby. When a man wants something he asks for it. He doesn't think about reasons or explanations. He just asks. Are you going to marry me?" "Of course I am. I have to." She smiles at him, bends her head to rest on his shoulder, puts both of her hands on her belly, and adds "This little girl is going to need a good man for her father." Sitting up straight in her chair, she looks off to the side, so she need not see how her question will be received, Marva asks, "Charles, would you mind, I mean will it bother you if ... I don't want to tell...." "You want to keep this private for a while?" When she nods, he asks, "Tell me why, before I answer your question." "It's my brother's wedding. You know, in a few weeks. I don't want to ... and Elizabeth ... she needs a splash ... she's ah ... she needs to be the center ... I mean of attention. And this is our ... it's special, I mean. I don't want to add our ... I'm happy, about ... it ... I don't want ...." "Marva, are you talking about the baby or getting married?" "Yes," she nods. Her answer is so faint, her smile so tremulous, he wonders how he ever thought he could share something so precious with another man. "Okay, for now," he grins, but gives her his agreement. "I will not speak of it, not even to you, if that's what you want." "No, I want you to tell me ... about how you ... how you feel ... I ... I need it .... But, this is ours, just ours." "I just have one more question. Do you want a ring?" "Oh," surprised, she does not know how to answer. "Ah ... not yet, anyway." He considers telling her that his mother has already been alerted to bring him "The Ring," but fears what Marva will think, if she knows he has told someone he has been planning a marriage, even before he mentioned it to the intended bride. But with enough other things playing on her emotions, he will wait until a calmer time. - - - As the date of the wedding nears, the frenzy of the bride increases and her agitated nerves affect anyone near her. The mother-of-the-bride, Polly Blevins, seems to be the only one not additionally nervous, or is such a nervous woman to begin with, that the additional stress does not make her appear any more shaken than normal. The father-of-the-bride, Horace Blevins, continues to assure his daughter that he can handle the walk down the isle, even if he has to ask his doctor for additional pain medication, just for that day. Marva has known the Blevins family since she was a young girl, Callie being first her neighbor, then her classmate, and then her best friend. In fact, she recalls the injury that disabled Callie's father. Perhaps her memory is that of a child, without specific details of how the injury occurred, but she does recall the man could walk well, before his injury. Now he spends much of his time in a wheelchair, not because he cannot walk, but because it is painful to do so. However, Elizabeth was always the older sister, which to young girls, is often a person of wonder or worship. That heroine now has clay feet and Marva wonders why she ever thought such a self-indulgent person could have ever been seen as someone to emulate. And, try as hard as she can, Marva cannot ever recall meeting Callie's Aunt Grace. Although Callie tries to assure Marva that she should have seen or met the woman, at least once. Marva cannot bring herself to admit, to Callie, that she has some kind of fear of this woman. Bryan begins to look tired, often appearing at work in the morning with dark circles under his eyes, so says Karen's now permanent roommate, Cynthia. He does not loose his sense of humor, he just looks tired. He does not loose patience with all that Elizabeth asks of him, but he does have his limits and she seems to have learned the line he will not cross. On more than one occasion, Marva has seen Elizabeth demanding something from someone, and upon looking at Bryan, Elizabeth's demands are tempered to a more pleasant request. Charles has even noticed this change in Elizabeth and repeated his personal opinion that had his own father used some of Bryan's skill in handling his "woman," Grace Tester would have been a happier person, and perhaps even a more attentive mother, instead of such a selfish, manipulative person. Callie continues her Wednesday luncheon and the Friday after-work Happy Hour gatherings. For some reason, she seems to thrive on the wedding plans and activities, almost acting as if she is directing a stage production, telling people what to do and where to go and always having the answer someone is seeking. Richard is often by her side, frequently with his arm around her, or she stands close enough to him, to touch her hip to his, without being too obvious. If anyone looks at her close enough, they will see her eyes seek his and turn warm as a small smile spreads across her face. Almost every time Richard says something to Marva, he adds a thank you for introducing him to such a fascinating person, as Callie Blevins. It takes no imagination to see that the two have a very special relationship. Marva teases Charles that as soon as Elizabeth's wedding is over he will have to do it all over again because Richard is going to propose marriage to Callie, if he hasn't already done so. David Wells appears at a pre-wedding function with a different date almost every time, many of the women are known by Bryan, Elizabeth, Callie or Marva. For several weeks he tried to attract one of the other bridesmaids but was not successful, her boyfriend was usually nearby. As the second of the tallest male attendants, he will be standing beside Charles during the ceremony. David usually attends Callie's Friday Happy Hour, often leaving with a different date. Twice he has approached Marva, at one of the pre-wedding events, but only to say a few pleasant words, and returns to the other side of the room, either because of the look on Charles face, or because Marva barely speaks to him, and does not smile. It has taken Marva all of the months, since Bryan's birthday party, to the week before the wedding, to agree with Charles that what she experienced the morning after the birthday party, was rape. It took at least until Marva moved in with Charles for her to completely describe how David held her arms down and shoved his cock into her mouth, preventing her from breathing or calling for help. However, she continues to tell Charles that she did nothing to discourage David's attention, and Charles continues to say the man is a predator, perhaps even a dangerous one, who will take what he can from any woman who does not fight him. Men in Her Life Ch. 05 The bridesmaid who will stand to Marva's right admits, less than ten days before the date of the wedding that she is pregnant and her dress is so tight she is uncomfortable and fears she will pass out during the ceremony. Marva tells her to bring the dress by Saturday morning, a week before the big day. Although it is difficult to let the dress out, the side seams have no room to make the dress any larger. The only allowance is the center back seam. By removing the zipper and using every bit of the zipper placket, Marva manages to get almost an inch. It is just barely enough. The girl says if she doesn't have to wear the dress too many hours, she will make it. More than a month before the wedding, Charles finally yielded to Marva's encouragement, and ultimate badgering, and went to the tuxedo rental store, but they were unable to find a jacket in their store that would fit him. The manager found a jacket in another company store and ordered it sent to the local store. The manager called two days later and said the large jacket was needed at another store in the interim, but it would be in the local store three days before the wedding, cleaned, and ready to be picked up. Marva calls the local store at least once a week, to make sure the arrangements to get Charles tuxedo to town have not fallen apart. When Marva goes to the store to pick up his jacket, the manager is in the process of offering the jacket to another customer, for one night. Marva was not very kind to the store's manager and was eventually offered a reduction of one-half the rental fee. Only when she actually has the tuxedo jacket hanging in his closet, in front of the trousers, does Marva breathe a little easier. Tuesday, before Saturday's wedding, Charles rolls over and tells Marva, "You are not touching that treadmill today or for the next five days. I'm not taking a chance on another muscle strain. If I have to do that damn wedding, you do too." "Okay," she says, without emotion. Her listless response disappoints him. "Hey, Baby, are you alright?" "Yeah, I guess." "Tummy?" he asks, prepared for morning sickness, which has not been a bad problem, but she hates it. "No, not really." Frustrated, he demands, "Alright, then what's wrong?" "Your mother gets here today." "Yes, so she does. And you are nervous about meeting her." It is not a question, it is a simple statement and despite what he has told her, she cannot bring herself to look forward to the first meeting of her future mother. "I don't know what I can do to make meeting her any easier for you. I've tried to tell you she is not a monster. She's just a selfish woman, like you will meet, on any street, in any city, in every country, in the world. She will be gone in a few days and you won't need to concern yourself with her for another six months." "Are you going to tell her?" "Nope," he answers easily. "You asked me not to. I'll let you tell her what you want her to know, when you want her to know it." Sitting up, waiting to see if her stomach will tolerate standing and walking, she admonishes him, "Charles, you should be the one to tell her." "Alright," he agrees. "You tell me when you want her to know and I'll tell her whatever you want me to say." "You're being too easy about this," Marva complains, beginning to suspect something is going on she does not know about. "No, I'm just tired," he admits, "And I want my Baby back. She's been down in the dumps for a few weeks and I'm really missing her." His current construction project has been tentatively delivered to the customer and the work crews are going through the final punch list of things the customer finds wrong or wants to change. Twice, Charles has spent a whole day in meetings with the final inspectors arguing that the original plans and specifications did not call for what the customer wants done. Both times, the customer agrees and consents to pay the additional material and labor costs, which also increases the profit margin on the project. Charles tries not to smile too broadly, at least until the meetings are ended, but he does not bother to hide his enthusiasm from Marva and although the business details are complicated, she listens patiently, asks few questions and allows him to use her as a sounding board for his wins and defeats. "Well, I'm going to feel wonderful on Sunday. How about that?" She asks him. "All I have to do is get through today, and tomorrow, then my two days off and the wedding day, and then the day after that is MY DAY." "You tell me what you want to do to make the day special and I'll do it. You go take a shower and I'll start the coffee, or roll over her and give your sweetie a kiss and if you're extra especially nice, I'll nibble on your ear." Jumping up and running to the bathroom and heaving. Charles is right behind her, holding his large hand against her belly to lessen the strain on her muscles. His other hand is on her forehead, giving her support. "Ugh," Marva complains, when she can stand up straight. "How long does this morning sickness stuff last? I'll be urping up my toenails in another month." Turning on the shower, Charles almost lifts her into the tub and turns to go make the coffee. Marva calls him back, "Charles, when I'm so fat I can't see to do it, will you polish my toenails for me?" "I guess so," he says, but does not sound like he enjoys the thought. "Or, I'll send you for a manicure on your toes." "It's called a pedicure," she tells him, from inside the hollow sounding shower enclosure. "You know "ped" as in foot? And I'm not going to pay the prices those people charge for painting my toenails. That is a ridiculous waste of money." "We will see," the same comment he makes when she speaks about money, the cost of something, or what he thinks she should do with her salary, which is just sitting in a bank account. He will not allow her to spend it, not even for a loaf of bread. "A fingernail shop would do a lot neater job than I would. I've watched you do it and my hands are so big, I'm not sure I can hold that little paint brush," he says, walking out the door. Marva laughs at some of the words men use to describe things women take for granted, like a fingernail shop or calling a bottle of nail enamel, paint, and the brush, a paint brush. Showered and dressed she is on her way to the kitchen, where she finds Charles with the newspaper spread on the table. "We made the front page," he says, excited and almost laughing. "Let me see," Marva's excitement matches his, exclaiming, "Oh wow," as she reads the headline, "$12 Million Tinker Toy," and then again is breathless at the amount of money Charles has been dealing with. She skims through the article, which accompanies the photo of a gigantic metal structure which does look like the old fashioned wooden circle and sticks of a child's simple erector toy. She pays little attention to the reporter's descriptions of the millions of dollars for this project and millions of dollars for that project used to illustrate how large The Tester Constructor's project is, in comparison. As she leans over the newspaper, Charles runs his hand up and down her back. When she straightens, he asks, "Are you going to talk to Rowe today?" He has asked the same question almost every day for the past two weeks, wanting to know if she is finally going to give notice that she is going to quit her job. Marva did not fully understand everything that Charles tried to explain and perhaps his explanation was not as informative as it should have been, because he did not fully understand it, he merely appreciated that the job was done without his needing to do the work. But Millie is a badger, an agitator, persistent, and untiring, when she thinks she is right. One of the employees working on the big construction project is a gay male, Rawson Adams. He and his partner, Rudy Lawson, have lived together for several years. Millie received an endorsement to the company health insurance policy, and she read it. Although she didn't fully understand all of the insurance terminology, one phrase caught her attention. She included a note in Rawson's paycheck and said she thought the company's health insurance policy covers the dependent or a resident of the household of an employee if there is an "established" relationship. Millie interpreted it to mean that two adults who live together constitute an established relationship. The note to Rawson asked if he would like to see if Rudy could be included on the company policy. The two men jumped at the chance. The insurance company tried to say that the intention of the terminology was to allow step-children, or long term foster children, to be covered as members of a family. Millie wrote some stinging letters that said they could not refuse to insure someone, unless the endorsement specifically excluded them. The application was approved, greatly because the two men could provide proof by using their driver's licenses, which show they had lived at the same address for a number of years. Millie listed additional items of proof, the couple was willing to provide, upon request, including joint bank accounts and ownership of their home. The ultimate result was a reduction in the two men's monthly health insurance costs by several hundred dollars. When Millie called the bank to arrange for the household account for Marva, she also applied to the insurance company, to include Marva on the company health insurance, because she was part of an established relationship. As Millie views it, she takes care of the office work and Charles takes care of construction. If an employee adds to his family, usually by marriage or birth, Millie adds the new addition to the company policy as soon as the employee returns the forms she sends them. The insurance company said the men's application had been approved because they could show they had lived together for several years. Millie wrote back, sending copies of the bank account documents showing that although the relationship was new, it is 'established'. She did not bother to explain everything she was doing. She was just relieving Charles of a time consuming chore so he could concentrate on his job. It took her an additional two months, but Millie won that battle, too. The day Millie left Marva's insurance cards on his desk, Charles looked at them for a full five minutes before he dared to ask Millie how she had managed to arrange for Marva to be insured under the company policy. Millie's smart mouth, which he often has to grit his teeth about, told him, "I do my job right and as long as I do, leave me the hell alone." She turned and walked out of his office, swaying her hips like a 1940's movie star and he laughed so hard he almost spilled his coffee. He took the cards home that night, gave them to Marva. She just looked at them, not really understanding the importance Charles seemed to feel the cards deserved, until he showed her the date her insurance coverage began was within the first month she lived with him, the original date of the application Millie sent to the insurance company. She still did not fully understand until he reminded her that it was at least three months before she became pregnant, which means she does not need to keep her job with Thomas Rowe, just to make sure she and the baby are covered by insurance. Since that night he has asked, carefully, but he has asked, if she is ready to quit her job, leaving unsaid that he wants her at home full time. Each time she gives the same answer, "Ah, I don't know. I'd really rather wait until the wedding is over and I know my trainee can handle the job." Worried that she seems so tired, he suggests, "Why don't you see if he will give you tomorrow, too?" "I might do that," she agrees. "If you promise not to tell Elizabeth I have an extra day off. She will find something for me to do." "You got a deal," he answers. He almost screamed last night when Elizabeth called wanting Marva to pay for the fabric and make ten dozen small satin roses and sew them onto the front drape of the tablecloths. He finally lost the wild look in his eyes when Marva told him she told Elizabeth "No, and don't ask anyone else either. You should have thought of this last month." When he asked, "Where does she come up with these ideas?" Marva said, almost at the same time he did, "The internet." Recalling their conversation, and thinking about how much Callie said Elizabeth now owes on two credit cards, which she began to use when she exhausted the money her parents borrowed, Marva says, "Elizabeth is going to have to work for ten years to pay off everything she owes for this dumb wedding." Charles asks, "I thought I heard Aunt Polly say Elizabeth has already quit her job. In fact, I know I heard her say that. She said Elizabeth and Bryan are going to start a family as soon as they are married and Elizabeth doesn't want to work while she is pregnant." "Good gracious," Marva chuckles. "Then don't tell her she can go to gift registry dot com and list all the things she wants for the baby. She should have found a millionaire for a husband. Bryan's never going to be able to support her." Holding her hands up, Marva hangs her head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't say things like that. It's their business, but I don't like to see my brother loaded down with that kind of materialism." Standing to go take his shower, Charles kisses her and tells her, "You better eat something before you go." Marva shakes her head and walks to the refrigerator, taking one of the small bags of fresh vegetables she keeps ready for snacking, "Ah, I think I'll just take these and eat them a little later." She rubs her tummy, "It's not ready for anything heavy." As he walks across the kitchen, he reminds her, "Don't forget to call Millie and tell her how to get to that place you found to get my plans copied. She said you give good directions, with street names and all I do is, tell her to turn right at the service station." "Yes, dear," she says, with a heavy submissive tone in her voice. "Marva," he warns, turning to look at her. But he cannot keep the grin from his face. "Just call her, okay?" "I sure will, sweetie" she says laughing as she closes the kitchen door. Men in Her Life Ch. 06 First Paragraph: Conclusion: Last of six chapters. A family dinner brings things to a head. This is a long story, broken down into six chapters. This is the conclusion of the story. If you would like to read the other chapters, or my other work, click on my ID above. Enjoy, 2Xwidderwoman * It is well past noon before Marva can even look up from her work. Remembering she was going to talk to her boss about an additional day off, she sees him returning from lunch and stops him before he can pick up his telephone messages. "I need a few minutes of your time." It is the code words they use when either of them want to say things, perhaps behind closed doors, or at least privately. "Come on, then" he motions her into his office. Closing the door, Marva walks to one of the client chairs and as she sits, asks, "Do you think I can take tomorrow off, too?" "The wedding is a monster, isn't it?" He commiserates with her, knowing the amount of work she has done and the extra hours, after work, she has spent on her brother's upcoming week-end wedding. After all, he has been the father-of-the-bride three different times. "Oh, is it ever. I'm just glad he is the only one I'll ever have to do this for." Thomas Rowe is familiar with Karen's lifestyle. But he reminds her, "Hey, it's worse when you do it for yourself," he grins. "Oh well, I don't think we're going to ...." She stops talking and blushes. "I figured as much. Do you have a date yet?" "Oh please, let me get one done, I'll worry about the other later." She has refrained from saying anything, only because she just wants to get Bryan's wedding done and then she can resume her own life. "That's not all that's bothering you, is it?" Mister Rowe knows Marva. He knows when she is under stress from outside of her job, too. "Let's have it. I think you know you can trust me, by now." Holding up both hands and crossing the first two fingers of each hand, she puts her hands on her tummy. She sees Thomas Rowe grin and nod his head. "I thought as much. There is just something about the healthy glow of a woman in that condition. Hey, stop me, I'll get maudlin." Clearing her throat, he adds, "I'm gonna loose you, aren't I?" Rather than say anything Marva nods and takes a deep breath. Thinking she needs to be really honest with this man, she finally says, "I've tried to make sure Christy knows everything, absolutely everything. She's sat at my desk for the whole month. She does pretty well. Her only problem is confidence and that will be cured as she does things without thinking someone is looking over her shoulder. She did great when I took a whole week off." Thomas Rowe can afford to be generous. "Yes, she did. She is well trained and I cannot thank you enough. So, is today your last day?" "That's up to you. I think I would like it to be, but I'll come back in, if you need me for something special, or if Christy needs something that I can't answer by telephone, if you don't mind?" "Oh wow, you'd do that for me?" Thomas Rowe is surprised. "Yes sir. I enjoyed my job," Marva admits her eyes filling with tears. "I learned a lot and you were very patient with me. It is the best way I can show how much I appreciate all you've done for me." "Okay, let's go get the tears over with. You can tell Christy and if you're done for the day, go on home. Come in one day next week and clean out your desk. Don't do that today. It will give me a chance to see you when you don't have to be here and you can tell me about the wedding." - - - "Hi Baby." "I'm on my way home." Although she tries to keep her voice steady, a little tremor makes its way through to him. "Are you okay?" Charles tries not to show fear. Her voice full of tears, she says, "I quit my job. Mister Rowe guessed. He sort of knew something is going on." "Go home and have a good cry. Take a nap. I'll be there when I can." "No, I'm okay. You finish your day. I just needed to hear your voice." Teasing her, he asks, "Just my voice? You don't want me?" "I can wait a few minutes. I might even manage a few hours." Her voice gets stronger as she demands, "But you better not be too late." "Ah ..." hesitating, for a moment, he considers waiting until he gets home. "Are you up for a night out?" "Your mother, or Elizabeth?" Laughing, he says, "Mother, Elizabeth and Bryan, Uncle Horace and Aunt Polly, and I know I'm missing another few, but it's just family, or just the two families." "Do you want to do it at home? I mean, it's just family, right? I could stop by the store, and fix something easy." "Baby, that's a lot of work. Are you sure you want to do that?" "Yeah, I think I do. Meeting your mother at home seems a little easier than being in a strange restaurant or somewhere else. It wouldn't take me but two or three phone calls to arrange that. I have all the numbers on my phone, as long as I call at least one of each couple. Ah ... will you call your mother?" "Yes, I will call Mother. Is seven o'clock okay?" "That's just exactly right. I'll see you when you get home. Bye." Instead of being down in the dumps, Marva now has a whole list of things to do, and five hours to do it. She must make a visit to the grocery store and then a large meal to prepare for a family. It may be fewer than a dozen people, but it is still her first time to do anything for Charles's family, all but one of whom she has known most of her life. And because it is family, despite Elizabeth's opinions, Marva is going to call Karen and tell her to bring Cynthia. This is not Elizabeth's party. It is a party for both the bride AND THE GROOM and Karen is part of the groom's family. Cynthia is part of Karen's family and is therefore, by extension, part of Bryan's family. Rather than trusting her memory about what she has in the refrigerator and knowing fresh is better than vegetables which are even a few days old, she fills her grocery basket with everything to feed somewhere close to twenty people. Bryan and Charles are big eaters. Horace Blevins in not a small man, either. There is not enough time for a meal which requires long preparation or slow cooking, but she will have enough time for baked chicken with half wild and half white rice under it, two fresh vegetables, hot rolls, and a good salad. She might even manage a easy dessert. When Charles walks in the back door, he takes a whiff of the delicious smells and asks, "How many hours will I need to spend on the treadmill for this one?" It has become a common question after he complained that he enjoys her cooking too much. He kept weight off when he ate in restaurants because the food wasn't as good as something made at home and portions were controlled. He has been working off the extra ten pounds he has already gained, but moans when he eats as much as he wants of her cooking and she tells him he must add half an hour or two half hour evening walks. Marva chuckles a little and says, "Eat all of your salad, a generous helping of both vegetables and you can have two helpings of chicken and rice. Anything you eat after that is half an hour." "How do I get off so easy this time?" he asks as he nuzzles her ear and kisses her, and then kisses her again, suggesting they could spend a little time together in the shower, unless she needs to watch the food. "Well, sex is good exercise ..." she drawls the words out, as if she is thinking about it. "But you need to get your mother, don't you?" "Nope, she has spent the afternoon with the bride and they will bring her," he informs her and puts his hands under her shirt, running them up and down her back and inside her shorts, stopping occasionally to squeeze before starting back up to her shoulders as he nuzzles her neck and asks, "Now, how about that shower?" As he moves him hands around to the front of her shorts, she separates her legs, "I think I'll pass, or ask you to hold that thought, AND THOSE HANDS, and wait for a lot more time, later. Mercy, Charles, how can I keep my mind on fixing supper?" "That's just it," he mumbles against her neck, "I want you to think about me, not the food. I need the exercise." Marva laughs and moves away from his hands, "Go take your shower, you can get the dishes from the top shelf for me." He moves to the cabinet and she stops him, "Wash you hands first." He turns to her and grins, "I don't think I will. Then I can watch your face when people eat off of dishes with your pussy juice on them," he says, after putting two fingers into his mouth and making loud sucking noises. "Shameless, you are absolutely shameless," she says shaking her head and then has to back up to keep him from coming after her. "Shower Charles, go take your shower." "Spoil sport, you never used to be more concerned about eating than you were about fucking," he complains as he walks across the kitchen heading toward the hall. "Ah, I beg you pardon sire," she simply cannot resist and waits for him to turn around. "I do seem to recall that we did spend an appropriate amount of time eating. Well, sometimes it was actually a meal, there was some stomach grumbling we satisfied pretty regularly, too." Charles laughs all the way down the hall and returns shortly to reach into the top shelves for all the dishes she says she needs. - - - The doorbell rings the first time, just as Marva is taking the last of the dishes out of the dishwasher. Not sure if the exterminator has been through the house since the dishes were last used, she sent them through a rinse and dry cycle in the dishwasher. It didn't take too much encouragement for Charles to agree to answer the front door. He is proud of his house and the way he personally furnished it, buying furniture only when he could afford to buy the furniture he wanted, instead of just furnishing the house with what it needed. It was almost the first house in the subdivision and has only increased in value since then. It took him years to find the exact furnishings he wanted and there are still some things he wants to do, such as some improvements and structures in the extra large back yard. Bryan, Karen, and Cynthia are the first to arrive, parking on the street at the same time. Charles shows them around a little, and then tells them they are on their own, when he has to go back to answer the doorbell. Callie arrives, bringing her parents with her, sending Bryan out to her car for her father's wheelchair. Marva walked around the house when she first got home, and called Callie back to let her know she was sure he wouldn't have any problems with the floor plan and there are no steps or threshold bumps to interfere with is movements. Horace Blevins immediately involves Charles in a conversation about the morning's newspaper story, congratulating him on the final delivery of the monster structure. Only a person who knows him well suspects his was born, and reared, in England. Occasionally he will say a word, using a different pronunciation or breaks the word into different syllables. Otherwise, Horace is thoroughly American, almost as roughly spoken as Charles can be at times, and sounds like the other men Charles works with. Charles comes into the kitchen for the newspaper, still on the table, so Bryan can read the story. Karen and Cynthia make their way into the kitchen, Karen standing around talking, as Cynthia offers to finish tossing the big salad and dish it out onto the plates lined up on the cabinet. Marva sends Karen to ask Callie if anyone other than the ten family members are expected, so Cynthia will know how many salad plates to fill. It is a full twenty minutes before Elizabeth arrives with Grace Tester. It is a full twenty minutes for Marva to grow more nervous. Instead of letting herself be sidetracked, she pours the sliced strawberries on the yellow sheet cake and whips the cream, spreading it on top of the strawberries. The next time Charles walks into the kitchen, Marva tells him, "Oh, I forgot about the cake. One piece of cake adds half an hour." He leaves, taking his uncle a cup of coffee grumbling, "You did that on purpose, didn't you. You let me get all prepared to eat all I want and you add that zinger at the last minute." Moments later, they hear Callie laughing and then Horace's roar of laughter. Polly Blevins even giggles her nervous giggle, which Marva has always thought sounds like a character from a child's cartoon show. Karen leans over to say quietly, "I always thought he was such a serious man. I never knew he had such a good sense of humor." Marva asks, "Was he around the Blevins house a lot? I just don't remember him." "When they lived across the street from us, I guess he came around there some," Karen nods her head. "You know, with his mother, at least until Mr. Blevins got hurt and they moved to that townhouse. I don't know about after that." Keeping her voice low, Marva asks, "Do you remember her?" hoping Karen will know whom she means. Karen's "Humph," precedes her answer. "All I remember is she was always complaining about something. Like how hot it was, and why couldn't Horace afford air conditioning. I don't think I really knew what a cool house meant, until I got to college. She always had this handkerchief and would fan herself with it." Karen whispers, "I don't think Callie liked her, but Elizabeth did. Auntie Grace this and Auntie Grace that, that's all Elizabeth knew how to say for the first five years of her life." No sooner than Karen has finished her remark, the doorbell rings and moments later those in the kitchen hear Elizabeth saying, "Hello dah'ling," followed by her introduction of Bryan to her "most favorite relative in the whole world." Elizabeth's voice sounds a little strange, as if she has been listening to someone speaking the King's English all day and is trying to mimic some of those inflections. Opening the oven door, because the chicken just cannot stay in the oven any longer or it will begin to dry out, Marva hears, "Hello Charles dah'ling. When are you going to decorate this house in a decent fashion? It looks like a bare bachelor pad, where you bring your nightly conquests." In a strong voice, Charles says "Mother, there have only been two women in this house, you and if you will come with me, I'll introduce you to the other." Appearing in the kitchen door as Marva is removing the huge pan of baked chicken, putting it on the side cabinet, is Charles and the woman Marva remembers from the driveway in front of a luxury hotel, almost six months ago. In fact, the woman might be wearing a twin of the same dress and blazer, only in a different color. But she is not carrying the same handbag. This one is larger than the other and a different color, but is still a designer handbag, a very expensive designer handbag. "Marva," Charles says to get her attention. "This is my mother, Grace Tester. Mother, I'd like you to meet Marva Preston, who incidentally is the younger sister of the groom." Removing the thick hot pad gloves from her hands, Marva walks across the kitchen to hold out her hand, "How do you do, Mrs. Tester. It's a pleasure to meet you." Marva does not squeeze Mrs. Tester's hand she simply holds out her hand. Grace Tester lays her hand on Marva's for only a brief moment and responds, "Yes, you may call me Grace, or Lady Grace, if you prefer." She does not wear glasses and squints slightly looking at Marva from her head of shiny dark hair to her feet. She adds in a dismissive voice, "I think I spoke to you once," and then turns to say directly to Charles. "Are we going to eat immediately, or might I have a few moments of your time for a business matter?" Despite Grace's rudeness, Charles asks Marva, "Are we ready to eat?" Marva answers, "Yes, please, while it's still hot," and then she turns back to the stove to remove lids from pots and offers plates to Karen and Cynthia, then holds out two plates to Charles. "Will you help your mother fill her plate?" Charles takes both plates in one hand and his mother's arm in the other, leading her to the stove. He picks up a serving spoon and asks his mother, "Which piece of chicken do you want, white or dark." Grace flips her hand and says, "Just a small amount of the breast tenderloin please." Unsure what she is asking for, Charles turns to Marva "Can you cut that piece of chicken for me?" "Yes, you do the rest and I'll bring her chicken and salad." Marva looks at Grace's badly bent fingers and puffy knuckles and quietly asks her, "Would you like me to cut your meat for you?" The woman replies, "Of course. Surely, you do not think these could possibly handle a knife, do you?" She holds her hands out, turning to show them to everyone in the room. "You young people just do not know how difficult it is to mature and have no family to offer support." Throughout the meal she continues to call attention to herself by asking for information about the wedding, and then remarks that neither Elizabeth, nor her brother, has kept her very well informed of all the details. She often makes a remark that she "should have been told," so she could have attended a wedding shower or at least sent a gift. Polly, when she answers a question, often precedes the answer with a comment that she was given that information earlier in the afternoon. Charles remains silent, his uncle occasionally looking at him and nodding, as if he understands. Bryan can be seen looking at Elizabeth and then at Grace, before returning his attention to Elizabeth. Shortly before pushing her plate back and pulling her dessert closer, Grace looks at Cynthia and points to Karen, "What is your relationship to this family?" Karen speaks up, saying very clearly, "Cynthia and I are partners. We live together." Cynthia, in the past few months has grown more confident. She does not drop her chin, nor does the expression on her face change. Grace turns to Karen and says, "I did not address you, young woman. It was your "partner," to whom I spoke," curling her upper lip when she says the word, "partner." Only because Charles puts his hand on Marva's arm, does she remain in her seat and keep her mouth shut. Cynthia, undaunted by the woman with poor manners and an obvious distaste for alternate lifestyles, says, "I live with Karen. We are life partners. We do not hide in closets, nor do we attack others who do not care for our choices. You madam, are an ill mannered bore." Grace waves her hand, and replies, "I care little for the opinion of simple people, such as you two. It does not alter the fact that you are in the minority and I am in the majority." Not bothering to look at Karen, Cynthia or Grace, Marva continues to stare directly across the table at Elizabeth. When Grace first addressed Cynthia, Elizabeth, sitting beside Cynthia, drew her arm as close to her side as she could and nodded her head. When Cynthia challenged Grace, stating that she and Karen are life partners, Elizabeth leaned farther away from Cynthia, as if she would like to crawl in Bryan's lap. When Grace claimed to be in the majority, Elizabeth opened her mouth as if she intended to say something, and might have done so, if Bryan's hand was not wrapped firmly and tightly around Elizabeth's lower arm. Instead of speaking she jerked her head toward Bryan, looked him in the eye and closed her mouth. Marva thinks to herself that she has never been prouder of her brother. He managed to support Karen, without a single word and also managed to keep Elizabeth from saying something she might later regret. Cynthia stands and turns to Charles, "Thank you for your hospitality, Charles and Marva. I believe Karen and I will go where we will not disturb your guest, our own home." The two girls walk around the table, shaking hands, hugging, and speaking politely to every one there. As Karen walks by Grace's chair she tells the woman, "You may be in the majority somewhere, but not in this house. Good night, ma'am." Men in Her Life Ch. 06 Grace, unable to keep her mouth shut, or thinking she is entitled to the last word, saves her words until the front door quietly closes. When she is sure she has the attention of everyone at the table, a table which is large enough to seat all ten of the diners, "I cannot abide "those people" they think we should accept them as if they are normal, just like everyone else." Callie, so far kept quiet, or just watching the entertainment, says, "Well you better never want those fixed," she nods toward Grace's hands and shakes her own mother's hand off her arm. "That tall girl you just insulted is the best bone and joint surgeon in this town, the best bone and joint surgeon in this state, and likely among the best five in the whole country." Callie, having had her say, sits back in her seat and says, "Marva, if you feed Charles like this every night, he's going to gain so much weight, he will need a hoist to get him out of his new truck." Marva looks at him, "New truck? Charles, you got it today? You didn't say anything." She swats at him and says, "And I haven't even had a ride in it yet. Can I drive it? Huh, can I? Does the seat move far enough forward for me to reach the pedals?" Charles throws back his head and laughs at her enthusiasm, "Yes, yes, yes, yes and I think so." He looks at everyone around the table and says, "See what I have to put up with?" Horace adds his own comment, "If she feeds you like this all the time, it may be worth it." He turns to Marva, "Little lady, that was a wonderful meal, but you keep him on that treadmill. It's easier to keep it off, than it is to take it off." He pats his slightly rounded paunch in illustration of his point. Everyone else around the table is soon joining in one conversation after another, laughing or moaning about what they have been through in the past few months. Without exception, or perhaps with the exception of Elizabeth, everyone is crossing their fingers that they only have four more days to go to see the end of it. Elizabeth looks around the table and says she had so much fun she would like to do it again, and then ducks when Callie throws her napkin at her older sister. Bryan asks Callie when she is going to open her own business as a wedding consultant. Callie looks at him, sits up straight, and gets a calculating look on her face. Charles leans over and playfully socks Bryan in the arm, "Good lord, don't give her ideas. She will find something for everyone in this family to do to help her and I'm worn out." Callie looks at Charles and says, "Oh by the way, now that you have your pickup, will you ...," but she does not finish the request, if there was one. Charles holds his napkin up to cover his face, saying over and over, "I am not listening. I AM not listening. I am NOT listening." Callie slips out of her chair and hides behind the door to the hall. When Charles lowers the napkin he looks around and Callie pops out from behind the door, "Oh yeah? The keys, please, Marva and I are going for a ride." "Not on your life," he exclaims, and then turns to tell Marva. "I got a car for graduation. It wasn't a new car. We couldn't afford things like that. I let Elizabeth drive it around the block. She couldn't drive very well, but I was just a dumb teenager. She brought the car back, without telling me she had driven over some trash in the gutter. It was construction trash. When I left their house, I had two flat tires and no spare. From that day to this, I do not allow Elizabeth or Callie to drive my vehicle. I figure if Elizabeth couldn't drive worth shit, and she taught Callie, I'm not taking any chances." Grace sits quietly as Horace and Polly tell about Charles taking both flat tires off of the car, putting them in the back seat of Polly's station wagon and going to find a late night service station to get the flats fixed. Both tires had four holes in them. Then they had to go home and put the tires back on the car before Charles could take his mother home. Elizabeth asks her father, "Where were you and Uncle George?" Around the room, almost in unison, The Belvins's family says, "Working," to which Charles adds, "And I think I went to work the next morning." Grace, finally deciding she can rejoin the conversation says, "Yes dah'ling, and you took that tiny little company and turned it into an internationally successful business. I saw this morning's newspaper. How much of that twelve million dollars will go directly into your pocket?" Charles stares down his mother and then cocks his head to one side, and answers, "A little more than two fifty, in all, for a whole year's work." Pulling her hand out of her lap, she reaches over and drops something into the middle of the thick whipped cream on top of Marva's uneaten serving of cake, as she says, "Then I see no reason for you to deprive me of something I have cherished for almost forty years." She mashes her hand down on top of Marva's cake, wincing from the pain. Marva, surprised at the woman's action, jerks back in her seat and almost stands up, but Charles has an iron grip on her arm, holding it to the table. He whispers quietly, "Baby, please," pleading with her, using his voice and his eyes. Grace stands, wiping her hand on her napkin and looks straight at Elizabeth. "Dah'ling, might I impose upon your lovely fiancé to take me to my hotel. I believe I have had enough excitement for one day." Callie is beside Marva as soon as Grace Tester leaves the room, telling her that the woman lives so far away, she won't have to put up with her very often. Marva is not crying. She is just so shocked she does not know what to do. Callie tries to settle Marva. In Grace's wake, Bryan and Elizabeth leave, handing her car keys to her mother as she walks by. Polly sits shaking her head. Horace groans long and loud, but doesn't really say anything. Grace is his older sister, he has lived in her shadow all of his life, listened to her complaints, and watched her browbeat everyone she comes in contact with. Charles picks up Marva's dessert and leaves the room, but returns shortly afterward, his face full of anger. "Charlie," Callie says, "Help me get Dad's wheelchair into my car. I'm gonna take them home and go spend the night with Richard. I need to be with someone who doesn't hate." - - - When Charles returns to the house, Marva has half the dishes in the dishwasher and is working on putting the leftovers in containers. Charles makes numerous trips from the dining room, bringing her the remaining dishes. It takes less than half an hour for Marva to be comfortable enough to turn off the kitchen light. She asks Charles three times what Grace dropped into her whipped cream, but he refuses to answer. "Are you done in here?" He asks again. "Yes, okay, I'm done," she finally says. "What is so important about getting out of the kitchen?" Charles puts his arms around her and says, "I need, you understand the word need? I need to take my girl for a ride in my new truck." "Oh damn," Marva says, "I forgot about the new truck. Can I drive it?" "Yes, but not tonight. I'm driving my best girl. I'm going to lift the armrest and she's going to sit as close to me, as she can get and I might play with her pussy as I drive down the street. You know, it's a lot easier with an automatic transmission. I used to teach all my girlfriends to shift for me, when I was in high school." "You did not," Marva tells him, and cannot resist laughing. "Callie said you were scared of girls when you were in high school." "It is not fair to have relatives around who know all your secrets" he complains. "I think I'll have a talk with Richard." Slapping his back as they walk out the garage door, Marva warns him, "Don't you dare, I like Richard." "Well maybe I won't talk to him, but I could threaten Callie that I'm going to," he teases. "Maybe that will keep her mouth shut." "Nah," Marva says, "She likes those big dramatic statements too much. Boy did she do it about Karen. I almost wanted to stand and cheer." "Wait a minute," Charles says. "I'll help you get in. I have to take it back to the dealer tomorrow. They're going to install some of those power steps on the sides for me. Or rather, they're doing it for you. They gave me a hard time when I asked to see what styles they had. I finally told them my future wife only comes about an inch above my waist." "Charles, I'm taller than that." "Yeah, but they don't know that. The sales manager said he'd like his wife face in his fly, too." "CHARLES!" He leans over and kisses her quickly, "Its okay, baby, he knew I was teasing." After a few minutes of driving, Charles pulls into a parking space of one of the city parks. In the day time, the park is always filled with children. At night, it is a quiet place, with strings of lights along the sidewalks and low lights which fill a small stage where an occasional sundown concert is held on warm summer nights. He gets out of the driver's door and walks around to sit in the passenger seat and pats his lap. "Come here, Baby. I gotta do this now, or I'll loose my nerve." When she is comfortably seated, he manages to get his hand into his pocket and holds her hand, putting a ring on her finger. The ring is much too large, but she closes her fist when he begins to talk. "You are the fifth generation of women to wear that ring," he says. "The first one wore it across this country. Half of the time she walked beside a wagon which contained all of her worldly goods. The second woman was my great-grandmother. She buried empty coffins because three of her sons were put in graves in foreign countries. I remember seeing my grandmother wear that ring when her husband was buried. Baby, I'm sorry I'm telling you about sad events, but those are the ones I remember. The last woman to wear that ring has done something to it, which is unforgivable. She has taken the center stone out of the ring. I do not know what she did with it, or why she had it removed, although I can guess. I will get it back, or she will, I don't care what it costs. I want you to wear it because I believe you will return its honor." She has not looked at the ring. Instead she asks, "Will you ... I'd like for you ... I don't even know how to ask. Charles, can you keep it for me? I'll wear it. I'll try to give it the honor it deserves. But ... just, not yet, okay?" "I understand. Yes, I'll keep it for you and give it back when it is whole," he promises. "I'd like to do that. Oh baby, hold me, just hold me. I hurt and I don't mind that you know it." - - - Weddings do not always happen as the bride and groom expect. However, occasionally a wedding happens with only minor glitches. Such is the wedding of Bryan Preston and Elizabeth Blevins. The majority of the credit for the seamless activity of the event is certainly attributable to the Maid of Honor. The bride could not possibly have done such a superb job. The reception is almost prefect, if you don't count the fact that the bride dropped the knife when she was cutting her cake. And if you don't count that she drug part of her veil through the icing on that cake. And if you don't count that she stepped on her train as she and the groom were dancing, almost falling down and very nearly taking the groom with her. But at least it was a happy event, if judged only by the amount of laughter around the large rented hall. The pregnant bridesmaid did not faint. The other pregnant bridesmaid's condition was not known or revealed until several weeks later and then only to a very few people, the future grandmother not among them. She only discovered her pending grandparent status, when she came for her next doctor's appointment, where her doctor suggested she have extensive surgery on her hands, beginning with the left hand. She declined the surgery, partly from fear of loosing control of those around her and partly from fear her helpless state might be reduced. She enjoys being waited upon and likely thinks of those who do so, as her private servants, as that is how she speaks of them. - - - About a week after the wedding, Marva collects the mail from the front porch and leaves it on the table beside the front door. That evening, when Charles gets home, he goes through the mail while walking into the kitchen. He hands Marva one envelop. She sees her name in the clear window of the envelope and opens it. She removes a check and sees that it is from the payroll account of Tester Constructors and is signed by Millicent Grier. "Charles, what is this?" "Oh, that's your first paycheck, I guess." "I don't work for Tester Constructors." Marva says, still, not understanding. "And I have never made this much money in a month in my whole life, not even with a whole lot of overtime." "Oh, that's not a month's pay. It's a weekly paycheck. I told Millie to send some of my salary to you. I couldn't do that until you quit working for Thomas Rowe." Marva looks at the check again and says, "You need to take this back to Millie. She's made a big mistake. It's way too much money." He takes the check from her, looks at it, and hands it back. "I don't think she made a mistake, it looks about right to me." "CHARLES, QUIT LOOKING AT ALL THAT STUFF AND EXPLAIN THIS TO ME." Marva has finally absorbed what he is telling her and has just blown a fuse. "What is it, baby? Is your name spelled wrong or something?" He is holding his grin in check but it is a great effort. Calculating in her head, Marva is beginning to realize that this man is not what she thought he was. "CHARLES, okay, okay, I will be very calm about this. Please talk to me." Taking a deep breath, Charles says, "Marva, you have never, not one single time asked me anything about money." Very slowly she nods her head. "I think you have no idea what my income is, or even what this house is worth or anything like that. Do you?" Slowly she shakes her head. Pulling an envelope from his shirt pocket, he hands it to her and tells her to open it. It is his paycheck. She does some quick math and sits down in her chair, hard. "But you said ... all that stuff about all the suckers bleeding the company, and me keeping my job ... and making sure your Uncle Horace ... and your Mother ... and paying for a wedding ... and ... and I guess I didn't understand." "I didn't say I couldn't afford to do those things, I just said I didn't like it. I have a good income, the company has a good income and now you have a good income, too. This house and everything in it is paid for. I have no reoccurring debts." He stops talking and looks at her. "Now, I'm going to ask you the same thing I have asked every day this week. Can we please get married? I'm sure not going to be happy to let my son grow up and think his parents HAD TO GET MARRIED." "Yeah, sure, okay, I'll marry you. I always said I would. I just wanted everything to calm down. I'm ready, whenever you are." She looks at her lap and he knows she wants something, but she may be afraid to ask. "Alright, what is it?" He asks, waiting for her to tell him, but guessing what she wants. As soon as she opens her mouth, he holds out his hand, opens it, and shows her he has the ring, and the center is filled with a diamond. It is the first time she has seen the ring, really seen it. Her breath catches in her throat as she bends to look at the ring. There is a large diamond in the center, a circle of diamonds around the center stone and a second circle of smaller diamonds around the other circle. She looks up at him and holds out her hand. As he slips it on her left hand, he tells her, "The bank had it. They knew I would redeem it. The ring needs to have new mountings and it needs to be made to fit you. But I wanted you to see that it is now whole." She puts her right hand around her left hand, holding the ring in place. He tells her, "There have been times in the past when that ring is all that stood between a woman and the possibility that her children would go hungry. Although she may have used the ring, as security for a loan, she has always redeemed it. I hope you will feel you can do the same. My mother used the center stone to supplement her regular paycheck. She wanted more money every year and I refused to pay her any more. I pay all of her expenses and she asks for more every time I speak to her. She used some of the money for a trip to Europe and some to pay a full-time companion to go with her. I don't know what she did with the rest, probably just bought things she thought she wanted. The companion chose not to continue as her employee. He must be a smart man, but he's not much better than she is. He has done the same to several other women." "Charles, I know I said I will marry you. But can we please, please, please, have a very small wedding, just us, just family." Putting her hands on her stomach, she adds, "Just our family, you, me, and our baby." THE END * Thanks for reading this work. Please vote to indicate how much you enjoyed it, and leave comments or feedback if you can spare the time. Your votes and feedback are the only way I will know how much you enjoyed my effort, and furnish the only means to improve my writing. Thanks again, 2Xwidderwoman Men in Her Life The taxi driver's front door opens and the driver stands up long enough to ask, "Marva Preston?" She answers, "Yes," as she opens the back door and climbs into the car, falling back against the seat and closing her eyes as the car begins to move, panting from the terror of the last few minutes and the rush down the stairs. She hears the driver saying something to his dispatcher, about a package onboard, while Marva's breathing slows. When her breathing is near normal, Marva swallows painfully and gives the driver her address, to which he responds, "Sorry Miss, the fare is paid to 1303 Adams Parkway. You can do what you want after I get you there." "Oh, okay," she answers as she bends over, looking for her socks. Only finding one stuffed in her shoes, she puts it in her pocket, pulls the shoes on her bare feet and ties the laces. At the destination, the taxi driver pulls into a long circular driveway, stopping beside a man who opens the back door and offers Marva a hand. Charles Tester is a tall man, in his mid thirties, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. Not really slender, he is trim, has good upper body strength, perhaps from exercise, or more likely from work. To most people he is somewhat larger than average. To Marva, he is huge. He has brown hair and because he spends a lot of time outdoors, his hair often appears to be almost blonde by the end of a hot summer. He has deep set dark eyes, dark lashes and dark brows. Early in the day he develops a five o'clock shadow. Almost everyone notices his hands, they are large, long fingered, and broad, as if he could pick up a basketball with one hand and easily throw it from one end of the court to the other and in fact did that often when he was in school. "Mister Tester?" Marva asks, in confusion, as she accepts his help from the taxi, not really understanding what is going on. "Just a minute," he responds, leaning into the front window to give the driver some money, then he takes Marva's arm, leading her up a short flight of brick steps, and into the front door of a large rambling house with very high ceilings. She stops inside the front door, pulling against the man's hand on her arm. "Please," she asks. "Tell me what I'm doing here." She swallows painfully, feeling the pain in her twice tortured throat. She knows this man, not personally, but he is a client of her employer and she has seen, and spoken, to him on many occasions in the last few years. She also talked to him at least five or six times the previous night. "It's alright. Something happened, I don't know what, but maybe you can tell me while we have breakfast. I think you need to put something in your stomach." He answers, releasing her arm, holding out his hand, to indicate she should precede him down the hall toward the back of the house. She turns and walks down the hall, looking behind her a couple of times to see that the man is following. At the end of the hall, she turns into a kitchen, seeing him walk around her to hold a chair, indicating she should be seated. He moves to another chair to her right and joins her, pouring coffee into her cup and telling her to eat her breakfast. The man watches as Marva winces when she swallows the first taste of her coffee and looks at the orange juice before giving a slight shake of her head. After a few bites of the food, the man asks, "Can you talk now?" Marva nods her head and looks down at her lap, knowing she is blushing, but unable to do anything about it. "I ah ... you know I had this party ...." She stammers as she talks, or stops talking a moment, to take another bite of softly scrambled eggs. Slowly the story comes out, with the encouragement of Charles Tester, who finally convinces Marva to call him Charles, instead of Mister Tester, although Marva objects, stating he is a valued client of her boss and calling him Charles is uncomfortable for her. He compromises and suggests if she is so inclined, she can continue to use Mister Tester when he appears for a meeting with Marva's boss or when she relays a message to her boss that he should return Mister Tester's call, otherwise, he would very much like to be known to her as Charles. Although she has no difficulty describing the party, she does have difficulty when she must mention how she had to move about her brother's apartment to find a quiet place to take his calls. Several times finding the bedroom doors locked and once seeing a half naked couple on the bed, when one or the other of the room's occupants failed to lock the door. Charles shares her laughter, his more robust than Marva's, at how the alcohol loosened morals of the party participants led them to lower their normal restraint. Marva mentions a few of the gifts, blushing about how much laughter there was from the crowd. She manages to tell about one blonde woman in particular, who took three different men, along with a different flavored condom each time, to Bryan's bedroom, because he has a waterbed. The woman was laughing as she moved down the hallway, saying the bed would do half his work for him. Her speech stumbles even more when she describes waking up earlier, to find David in bed with her. Charles asks several questions about David, suggesting David's attention is perhaps unwarranted and might even be considered as a violation. "Gawd, what a mess I made of last night. No, it was not rape, but I didn't expect what I got, either." She does not stint on her own blame when David kissed her in the hallway, nor when he pulled her into the recently vacated bedroom. Charles looks at her embarrassment and asks, "I'm not a lawyer, but I guess if I was, I would want to know if you responded to his kisses?" Marva chuckles and admits, "I'm sure I did in the hall. When he took me into the bedroom, I didn't want to end up on that bed, so I resisted. But he was comfortable going back to the party. In fact I think he suggested it." "Don't be so hard on yourself," Charles tells her. Marva shakes her head, "Well, that was last night. I don't know how he ... this morning when he ... I don't think I did anything to indicate I was interested in ... I have never ... I'm not sure, well, I am sure I didn't say anything that would give him a clue I would ...." She just cannot tell this man any of the real details. Now that she has stopped shaking, Charles asks a few questions. "I think you answered my call while you were in the bathroom?" Marva nods, continuing to look at him. He also inquires, "I think I heard you vomit?" She nods again, but doesn't offer any information. "Is that because you had too much to drink the night before?" This question, she answers, "Oh no, I don't, well, I seldom drink. I think I had some orange juice, but that's all, except for a glass of ginger ale." Charles does not understand, "Then why did you vomit? That's what you were doing, weren't you?" Marva, disarmed by the questions about her drink begins to answer, "Oh, it wasn't because of last night, it was because this morning he...." She stops suddenly, not able to use the words she knows, but does not say. "Marva, what happened this morning?" Charles asks, beginning to get an idea, but wanting her to tell him. She drops her chin and lowers her voice, "When I woke up, his face was between ... and then he came up to my face and I couldn't stop him from ..., I was choking ... please Charles, I can't do this." Suddenly understanding, Charles asks, "When you woke up, he was between your legs, giving you oral sex? I can't use any less offensive words." Marva whispers, "Yes." "Good god, that bastard. He raped your mouth? Is that what happened, Marva? He came up to your face and raped you, climaxed in your mouth and that's what caused you to vomit?" Marva nods, a tear escaping from each eye as she looks toward the hall she walked only a few minutes earlier. She brightens, straightens her posture, and turns to Charles. "I sincerely thank you for rescuing me this morning. I was so ... I was ... well, I couldn't think about anything, but getting out of there." She looks around her for a moment, for the first time noticing his neat kitchen and cheerful breakfast area. "If I might impose on you further, I need a little help. Before the party, I locked my wallet in the trunk of my sister's car and then I gave her the keys. I need a ride to our apartment so I can get the keys and go back to Bryan's apartment to drive her car home." "I don't think so." Charles is adamant. "I'm not sure I could live with myself if I let you go back there." "I don't think he ... he's my brother's friend, I really don't think ... he just had too much to drink." The look of distaste on Marva's face is obvious. She has no interest in seeing David again. She finally adds, "I'm not going upstairs, I just need to get the car." "Alright, come on," he says, standing to walk toward the door beside the table, just as his telephone rings. Charles turns to look at the telephone on the wall, rolling his eyes up and folding his arms across his chest. Marva looks at Charles and then at the ringing telephone, which he does not cross the room to answer. He gives a soft chuckle, and says, "Come on, take a message." As the last word is out of his mouth, Marva hears clicks to indicate the built in answering machine is playing the recording. A few seconds later a feminine voice, using neat clipped King's English tones says, "Charles, I shall arrive near noon. Please do not bother with the airport, I shall order a limo. I expect some quality time with you this week-end. Ta-ta dah'ling," followed by a click to indicate the caller has disconnected the call. Charles opens the door to the garage, and holds it open for Marva. The only sound he makes regarding the telephone message is a deep throated, wordless, "Humph." - - - Collapsing on the couch, with wet hair and fresh from a shower, Marva finally finds time to ask Karen about her evening with Cynthia. Karen throws her hands up in the air and gives a mock wail, "I don't know. I just don't know. When we are together, we enjoy each other. I don't mean just the sex or affection part. We have good discussions. I mean we can really communicate. But when there is anyone else around, she clams up, like she's trying to hide." Marva looks at her older sister and asks, "Well, is she?" "Is she what?" Karen asks in exasperation. "Trying to hide? Is she trying to hide that she is not interested in men," Marva asks, still not sure of what words to use to describe her sister's romantic and personal lifestyle. "You're as bad as Cynthia," Karen almost screams. "To us, lesbian is not a dirty word. Good lord, Cynthia has known since before she was a teenager that she is a lesbian. Alright, don't turn your lip up at me. I'll use the word gay, alright?" Trying to placate Karen, or at least keep her from erupting again, Marva says, "She may have known for a long time, but she may not be as willing to flaunt it as you do." Karen turns and sneers at Marva, "Are you saying I'm too bold about my sexual preferences?" Marva nods, "Yes, you are. I'm comfortable with you, but not everyone else is. People don't want you to shove it down their throat and you delight in doing that. Karen, you are like a steak eater trying to force feed your choice down the throat of a vegetarian. Most people don't mind being around gay people, they just don't want to be forced to accept them, and you do that. In fact you delight in it. Maybe you embarrass Cynthia." "How do you know so much, smarty pants?" Karen teases her younger sister. Marva explains, "I watch. I'm not the life of the party. I'm one of those people in the background, staying out of the way. I see the way people react. Sometimes when you say something, Cynthia cringes. She's uncomfortable when you stand with your arm around her. She doesn't mind being with you, but she doesn't like you to be possessive. She may not leave your side, but she does take half a step away from you." Amazed at Marva's observations, Karen asks, "Are you serious?" The younger woman nods her head. "Yes, very serious. When there are only straight people around, she is subdued. When she is with you, and there are other gay people around, she is much more open." "Wow!" Karen exclaims, "I need to watch myself then, don't I?" She looks down for a moment, and then says, "I love her, Marva. I think she is the first woman I have ever been with that makes me feel really good about myself." "Alright then," Marva explains. "If you plan on something permanent or at least long term, you have to let her manage her own "presence," if you understand what I'm saying." "I think I do. Yeah, I think I understand. Thanks." Before Karen can walk across the room heading toward her bedroom, she stops to say that their brother, Bryan called to remind her that he and David will pick her up for dinner a little after seven o'clock. Instantly, Marva is out of her chair, almost yelling, "I am not going out with that man." Not sure why Marva is acting as she is, Karen says, "You have to. It's a double date. Bryan finally convinced Elizabeth to talk to him. The only way he could get her to agree to see him, is if it's a double date." Karen stops talking for a moment and turns away, but turns back to add, "It's important to him. I think Bryan wants to propose to her. I talked to her for an hour trying to get her to go to the party, but she was afraid he is still angry with her." Just as Karen had done, Marva throws her hands in the air, "Why is it that I'm always surrounded by couples and I can't even find a man of my own?" Karen looks at Marva and grins, "It's because you are a prude. A man wants a lady in the parlor, a Madonna for his children, and a whore in his bedroom. I don't know about the Madonna part. You are definitely a lady, but you will never be a whore." "This is ridiculous. Karen, David Wells is a letch. He is not the kind of man I want in my life," Marva says, tears forming in her eyes as she turns and walks to her own bedroom. Karen's voice follows her, "That may be so, but Bryan is depending on you to help him tonight. So, be a good girl and wear something sexy that will keep David's attention, so Bryan can have a chance to explain things to Elizabeth." Shaking her head, Marva walks to her closet and opens the door, just standing there, wishing she did not need to do this tonight. And she would not do it, except that it is for Bryan. He has been miserable for over two weeks. He and Elizabeth had some kind of major argument, but he will not say what the argument was about. Two days in a row, he missed work. His secretary, Cynthia, called his apartment, but he didn't answer. She finally called Marva to see if he was sick or if Marva knew why he missed work. Cynthia's break-up with Karen was so recent that the woman was uncomfortable calling her former lover. Marva went by Bryan's apartment and discovered he was just sitting on the couch, hadn't eaten all day, had not shaved in several days, and needed a shower. He explained that he loved Elizabeth, wanted to marry her, and feared his refusal of going back to work for her boss was preventing her from answering his phone calls. Marva knows from the way he talks about the argument, that there is another, more important, reason, but Bryan does not reveal anything further. - - - When she answers the doorbell, David steps into the apartment, puts his arms around her, and kisses her deeply. "Hello gorgeous. You shouldn't have left this morning. I was just getting warmed up." Marva pushes against him and he lets her go, apologizing for messing up her lipstick, but adding that he'd rather have her lipstick somewhere else on his body, rather than his mouth. Marva's only comment, after a deep blush, is a simple, "No thanks." David laughs and grabs her hand, almost dragging her to the elevator, saying he doesn't expect her to wear lipstick the next time he gets her in a bed, anyway. With a silent sigh of relief, she notices Elizabeth is sitting in the back seat of Bryan's car, giving the two girls the opportunity to talk with each other on their way to the restaurant. Elizabeth admires Marva dress and even asks her to turn around so she can see there is no zipper in the back. The stretch jersey material means Marva can make the dress in a few hours and plans on at least one more, in another color. Elizabeth asks if Marva will make one for her, if she buys the material and pays her for her time. It is a good style and easy to care for. Marva and Elizabeth have known each other for years, in fact before Bryan started dating her. They lived less than a block from each other before Marva started school and went to school together, although not in the same grade. Elizabeth's younger sister, Callie, and Marva are close friends, had lots of sleepovers at each other's houses, and still see each other as often as they can. After a few blocks, Elizabeth leans over to say, "Callie says she knows the perfect man for you." "Good lord," Marva exclaims, "How many people know about this man, before I even have a chance to meet him." "He's our cousin," Elizabeth explains and leans back to laugh at the expression on Marva's face. "I think she may be right. You are going to fall head over heels in love with Charlie." Marva tries to slow Elizabeth down a little, "Maybe we should wait for this Charlie to decide for himself." Elizabeth squeezes Marva's hand. "Hey, men don't get serious about a woman until she lets him know he is allowed to be serious." She leans a little closer to whisper, "Get him in bed, get his attention, and then he will get serious. It works every time." She nods at Bryan in the front seat and raises her eyebrows at David, and then laughs at the expression on Marva's face. "Oh well, maybe he can dance," as if the whole evening won't be a waste. If Marva is not interested in taking her date to bed, she won't have wasted an entire evening if her date knows how to dance. The two couples spend an hour in the bar, waiting for their table. Bryan called for reservations, but the restaurant is busy tonight and they seem to be short of staff. Clearing tables and resetting the service takes longer than expected. During that hour, David flirts with both women, with Elizabeth often responding to his flirtatious remarks with one of her own. At first Bryan laughs with everyone else, but he is soon sending scowling looks to David, trying to get him to tone down his remarks. David either misinterprets Bryan's look or is tempting the tiger, wanting to see how far Bryan will let him go. By the time their meal is over, David has danced a long slow waltz with Marva, holding her a little closer than she likes, and taken Elizabeth to the dance floor twice. Bryan is sulking and unhappy. Marva leans over the table and suggests, "Bryan, take her home. Give David your keys and tell him you will see him when you get there. She is just doing this to find out if you are interested enough to take her away from another man." Bryan looks at his younger sister and complains, "I don't know if I want to spoil her fun." Marva looks at the dance floor and then nods at the couple, "Well, you better do something. That's indecent." David is dancing with one hand very low on Elizabeth's hip, almost cupping one buttock in his hand. Bryan watches for a moment, stands, picks up Elizabeth's small handbag and her wrap from the back of the chair, meeting the returning couple halfway across the room. Marva watches as Bryan puts his car keys in David's hand and ushers Elizabeth from the room. As David resumes his seat, he leans over and asks, "You think that worked?" "I'm not sure," Marva says. "You may have helped and then again, you may have broken it, permanently." Men in Her Life David asks, "Have you had enough?" When Marva nods, he looks at their waiter and nods, indicating he is ready for their bill, handing the man a credit card as he approaches the table. "If we do this slow and easy, they will have found a cab and be on their way." They leave the restaurant walking down the sidewalk and turn the corner of the building to find Bryan's car. Without warning David pushes Marva against the building, steps in front of her with his hands on either side of her face, kissing her as he grinds his hips into her pelvis. She pushes against him, telling him not to act like a teenager, and then turns to walk to Bryan's car, waiting for David to unlock the doors. At the first stop light, David leans over plunging one hand down the front of Marva's dress grasping one breast while his hand goes up to cup her chin pulling her face to him for a deep kiss and forces his tongue between her lips. Marva turns her head, reaches up, removes his hand from the front of her dress, and asks, "What is with you?" "Just getting you warned up babe," he says. "I plan on a long night between your thighs." "I don't think so," Marva says. "That is not the way I say "Thank you" to a man for taking me to dinner." David looks at her and grins, "Well, it's what I expect." "Then pull over and let me out. I am not going to bed with you." Marva says, shaking her head. "Aw, come on. You know you want me. I showed you that this morning. Now, it's your turn. I'm going to eat you until you are screaming." "No, David. Pull over and let me out of the car," Marva demands. "You can't be serious. You are turning down a night of the magic tongue?" David scoffs. "I'm ready to see how good this "Marvelous Marva" is that David mentioned. He said his sister is the hottest fuck in town. Parker told him you have a pussy that can milk a man without him moving a muscle." Marva screams, "PULL OVER AND LET ME OUT OF THIS CAR." Instead of needing to do so, less than two seconds later, when David stops for a red light, Marva opens the passenger door, steps out of the car and is on the sidewalk, walking in the opposite direction before David can do much more than blink. Although he drives around the block and stops beside her, Marva ignores him as she walks less than one hundred yards to the front door of a nearby luxury hotel. Marva stands for a moment, waiting for the valet to hand keys to one of his runners, before she approaches to ask him to call her a taxi. She turns as headlights glare at her and stares open mouthed as Charles Tester leaves his car to walk around and hug an older woman who steps out of the passenger seat of his car. The woman pats him on the cheek and says, "I shall see you about two o'clock. Don't be late dah'ling." When Charles turns to walk in front of his car to return to the driver's seat, he sees Marva, looks behind himself to see if he missed someone else, and walks straight to her. "What on earth are you doing here?" Marva blushes and stares straight at him, "I walked out on my date when he wanted more than a thank you for dinner." "Good god! Get in the car," he says. Marva explains, "I was going to get a cab to take me home." Charles takes a deep breath and lets it out, "Marva, just get in the car, alright?" She shakes her head and says, "You don't need to rescue me again." "Marva," he says, sternly, "GET -- IN -- THE - CAR." "Oh alright, spare me all these macho men. I've had enough of them for one night," she complains as she jerks the car door open and sits down. He does not move until she fastens her seat belt. She starts to explain and he glares at her, "Stop. Don't talk to me until I get out of this traffic." He turns his attention back to the late night traffic of what looks like half the city leaving conventions at several large hotels. Within minutes he is pulling the car into his garage, despite Marva's request that he take her home. He will say nothing more than he needs to have a good long talk with her about what she does not seem to know about men. Once in the kitchen, he removes his suit coat and hangs it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, and then pulls his tie off as they stand toe to toe, argue, and yell at each other, until he takes her by the hand, pulling her down the hall and into his bedroom, where he slams the door and says, "Undress and get in bed or I'll do it for you." "WHAT!" she screams. "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" Charles moves toward her, taking one slow step after another, leaning forward, telling her, as he stalks her across the room, until her back is to the wall beside the bathroom, "I want to screw you. I want to have intercourse with you. If you want the words, I want to fuck you. I don't want to make love to you. That's not what I'm talking about. I want sex, pure, plain, uninhibited sex. I don't usually take seconds, but I'm interested enough to think about it seriously." "You're crazy," Marva accuses him. "No, I'm horny. I have been even since I opened that damn taxi door this morning. I don't think you even know what real sex is and I intend to show you. I'm not talking about soft touching or long arousing foreplay. I want to fuck you. I want to slam into you until you are so aroused, you cum all over me and scream the third and fourth time I make you climax. Now, get undressed or I'll do it for you." "Charles," she says his name softly. "No," he says, his voice lowered and rough. "I don't think anything is going to stop me. You tell me you are a virgin and I might think about it, but I don't think that would stop me either. You want this, as badly as I do, you just don't know it yet. That's what I'm going to teach you. You need a fuck buddy and I'm it." He stands in front of her, his eyes looking into hers, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling his shirttail out of his trousers. He takes the shirt off and wads it into a ball, throwing it into the corner of the room. Not taking his eyes from her, he raises his eyebrows as if to ask her when she is going to start removing her clothes. He pulls his t-shirt over his head and it follows the shirt into the corner of the room. When she still has not moved, he steps in front of her, reaches down, pulls her dress over her head, and then nods at her slip. She does not move, so he pulls the slip over her head, turns her around and deftly unhooks her bra, tossing it and the slip into the corner where they fall on top of his shirts. She puts her arms up to cover her bare breast, but he uses his hands to lower her arms to her sides and drops to his knees and in one swift move, pulls down her panties and pantyhose, and removes her shoes, making a remark about dumb women's clothing. When she tries to move, he stands and places his hand against her stomach holding her against the wall as he looks at her and unbuckles his belt. His eyes on hers, he unzips his pants and drops them, as he one-handedly pulls his boxer shorts off, kicking his shoes, shorts and pants into the corner, on top of all their clothing. Other than a moment or two he has not taken his eyes from hers and she seems to be just as mesmerized. He stands in front of her, his stiffened penis gently swaying from side to side, tugging his socks off and then turns, walks the few steps to the bed and lifts the covers, waiting for her to walk across the room and get in the bed. He looks at her because she has not moved away from the wall. "Get in the bed or I'll carry you over here," he demands. He watches as she does as he instructed, then he walks to the door, turns off the lights, and then joins her under the covers. Moments pass, while he breathes heavily. With a few quick kicks of his leg the sheet and blanket are moved to the foot of the bed while he uses his hands to separate her knees. He moves between her legs, and buries his mouth in the soft flesh of her shoulder. He inches forward gently, slowly entering her and then presses a little further as he rocks his hips back and forth, going deeper with each stroke. "Talk to me Marva. Tell me this feels as good to you as it does to me. Use the words you know or I'll teach you the words you don't know. Beg me to fuck you. Tell me you want it deeper or harder. Whisper, talk, or scream, don't just lie there like you don't know what's happening." Tentatively she says, "I can feel you inside me." "Squeeze your muscles, hold me inside you. Push against me, put your legs up, and cross your ankles over my hips. Move with me. Lift your hips and give me something so I'll know you enjoy it." He moves, in and out of her, twisting and moving over her, watching her face as she looks up at him, surprising both of them with her first small climax. She is almost silent, still unsure of this man. He does not stop, he changes his pace, pounding against her and then slows, a few shallow strokes, and then deeply felt thrusts, again waiting for her, pulling words from her, telling her the words to say, and teaching her new ones. "Fuck me Marva. Squeeze my cock with that sweet little pussy." "Please Charles." "Say it Marva, say the word. Say "Fuck me Charles," just say it." "Fuck," she says the word once. "Oh fuck," the second time is easier. As if the dam is broken, she tells him, "Fuck me Charles. Fuck me Charles." It is her new mantra. After her second climax, she begins to move with him, pushing against him harder and harder with each of his strokes. An occasional whimper, from her, and his flesh slapping against her are the only sounds in the room. He straightens his arms, watching as her head thrashes from side to side, her arms spread as her breasts become rigid when she arches her back and her nipples grow hard. "That's it baby, squeeze me," he encourages and almost without her realizing it, she is moving, thrashing, pumping her hips up and down, raising her feet in the air as if she wants to press them against the ceiling. He puts his hands behind her knees, pushing them toward her shoulders and thrusting into her, going deep, against her womb, pounding her, his flesh slapping against her as another climax sends her into further frenzy and still he feels her muscles throbbing, knowing she still has more inside her. As the muscles in his arms quiver, she screams her pleasure, rocking with him, her hands alternately holding his shoulders and pushing against them. A long deep groan escapes while she pounds her feet on the bed and pushes her hips against him, raises her shoulders until she is almost sitting upright, and then limply falls back. Only then does he allow his tension to build as his balls tighten. He throws his head back, growls as if he is an animal guarding his lair and allows his back to arch. Buried deep inside her, he roars as his cum jets inside her, he throbs, with the last few uneven thrusts, and her muscles continue to clench around him. He is still and silent, arched above her. His body is tense, muscles strained and tight. He can feel his own blood pounding through his system. It is a euphoria he will never tire of, and now, he knows she has tasted that same ecstasy. She lies beneath him, a small smile spreading across her face as she shudders with the final electrical after shocks. As gently as he can, he lowers his chest to rest against her, trying to support his weight, her arms lift to wrap around him. They are panting, both trying to fill their lungs with air as they come down from the tremendous high of their mindless movements, of working to give each other pleasure and take more for themselves. He rolls slowly to the side, his breathing still labored. Quietly, his voice rough and intense, he tells her, "I'm going to do that again before I let you out of this bed. I may need a third time to get you out of my head." He rolls over onto his back, places one hand on her belly and says, "You tell me you didn't enjoy that and I'll call you a liar." He breathes a few more times and tells her, "Roll over and back up here. I want to feel your skin touching me." She does as he says, feeling one of his arms going around her, pulling her closer, pushing his knees against the back of her knees. "Charles?" she asks. "No, don't talk. Just think about it." After a few minutes of quiet, he says, "Marva, get up and go to the bathroom. You need to empty your bladder after sex. You're less likely to have kidney or bladder infections. Then come back here. I'm not finished with tonight's lesson." When she is back in bed with him, they talk about their different dinner companions. He does not like that she spent the evening with the man who orally raped her earlier in the day. He refuses to think of it any other way. But he does understand her reason for agreeing to go on the double date. However, he comments that her brother probably needs to grow up a little more before he thinks about marriage. She describes the problems her older sister has with her off and on relationship with her lesbian partner. Marva gives him a hard time about not allowing his mother to stay with him. He says he only did that once. When she tried to redecorate his home, he never did it a second time. Besides, she has other relatives she sees when she comes to town. They talk a little about business, he discovers how long she has worked for Thomas Rowe, but does not ask for any inside information about her job. But for the most part, they don't really speak to each other. He explores her body, asking about what feels good. He boldly asks about her previous sex partners and what kind of sexual relationships she has had. When she says something, using polite words, he tells her that between the two of them, they can use the words her mother said were nasty. "It's a cock, Marva. It's not my manhood like some romance novel. It's not my thing like young girls call it. It's my cock, occasionally a prick, but not a peter, and not even a dick. Give me your hand." He takes her hand and puts it around the shaft of his cock. "See, when it's soft, about all its good for is pissing through. But when I smell or taste a pussy that interests me, I get a hard on that makes a woman plead me to fill her with it." She opens her fingers and he tells her, "No, you hold it. You need to know. When no one is looking, do some research, and learn what you need to know. Look on the internet, buy a book, or find a magazine that tells you more than some stupid female gossip." She asks, "Is that how you know so much?" "Partly, and the rest I learned because I want to satisfy a woman. It gives me more pleasure. I get harder when I feel a woman cum, and harder still when I know she can cum a second time." He cups his hand between her legs and says, "There is heat here, when the blood collects here, just like it does to make my cock hard, that blood is hot and it calls a man. I can touch a woman with my mouth and almost climax just from the taste of her and the heat inside her. And that's your pussy. It's not your box. Your mother probably called it your twat, or your po-po, or all kinds of silly names. But it's your pussy. I know it's your vulva and your clitoris, but to me it's your pussy and your clit. Now lie down on your back and spread your legs open. I'm going to feast on that pussy and lick that clit until you can't stand it any more, then I'm going to push my cock into you until you cum all over me and I'll do it a second or a third time before I quit." - - - Thanks for reading this work. Please vote to indicate how much you enjoyed it, and leave comments or feedback if you can spare the time. Your votes and feedback are the only way I will know how much you enjoyed my effort, and furnish the only means to improve my writing. Thanks again, 2Xwidderwoman