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Suburbia Ch. 01

By: Evolution20XX



=========== Chapter 1: Moving In

The house in the middle of the block had stood uninhabited for a few years, ever since its previous owners had passed away. Having no children, and nobody to inherit it, the house had gone on the market. Now, towards the beginning of the school year, Wilma Johnson was showing the house off to a young woman, who seemed to be in her early 30s. All the housewives on the whole block came out of their houses to see her. She was definitely attractive, and apparently single. A bit astray from the typical families who inhabited this suburban neighborhood, but in any event she seemed like a calm, tranquil person. The sale was made, and the wives on the block awaited the permanent arrival of their newest neighbor.

Yet the summer passed into fall, and fall waned into winter, without any activity in the house. Then, just as the last snows were thawing out, an enormous moving truck, larger than any anybody had ever seen, pulled up to the house and started unloading things. The moving crew seemed normal enough, but there were two things that stood out as grossly errant, more to the housewives than anyone else. One, the owner of the house was not present; come and go in and out as the movers did, the woman who had purchased the house never showed herself. The second was one of the movers. He was a black man, gauged to be in the mid-20s. What struck the neighbors as odd, however, was that while the other movers were dressed in a standard, company uniform, this lone black man was continually changing clothes. First he was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, then a military fitness uniform, then as day melted into night and the temperature cooled, military fatigues. After finishing their job, the moving men, including the oddly-dressed one, locked up the house, mounted up in their truck and left.

Another week passed before a black convertible was spotted parked in front of the house. At first it was seen sparingly during the day, for no more than an hour at a time, but by the time schools were letting out for summer vacation, the car was always there, only gone at night. Convening as they always did, the housewives tried to piece together what gossip they could. The only things they knew were that it was a woman, and she worked either at night or from home. If she worked at night, they "reasoned" she could only be doing one thing so soon after arriving in town: stripping in the city. Yet as much as some of them wanted to jump to conclusions, one member of the group adamantly refused.

"We should at least introduce ourselves first," Susan McCarty suggested.

Alice Tillman pounced on her. "Then you go by yourself, right now, and introduce yourself."

"Huh? Why me?"

"It was your idea. Plus, she's likely to be less defensive approached one-on-one."

Susan scowled. She hadn't anticipated things turning out so. She agreed begrudgingly and went over to the house. She rang the doorbell and heard a man's voice echoing through the house. Hmm, she has company, she thought, I'll just come back later, and turned to walk away when the door opened behind her. "Can I help you?" She turned back around, and who did she see but the moving man from the summer before, dressed in only a pair of workout shorts! She stared blankly for a moment before being jarred back to reality by him clearing his throat and repeating his question, this time with a definitive command tone to it. She squeaked, "I'm looking for the lady of the house, is she in?" The man scanned her for a moment, before cracking a dry smile. "Come in," he said, with that same authoritative tone of voice. She entered the house, closing the door behind her.

She looked around the house; it was set up beautifully, but not like a single woman would. There was definitely a man's touch at work here, but before she could investigate any further, his voice broke into her consciousness. "My name is Marcus, what's yours?"

"Uh, Susan. Susan McCarty." 

"Nice to meet you, Susan. So, what exactly do you need?"

"Well, this house has been owned for a year now, and I had yet to see the owner... is she around?"

"No, and she won't be for some time. She's in the military, serving over in Iraq. She bought this house for when she gets out next year."

"I see. So you're house-sitting for her in the meantime?"

Marcus let out a wicked laugh. "I knew we were going to get around to that. See, I'm part owner of this house. The woman who bought it? My wife."

Susan was sure she hadn't heard right. White women marrying African-American men? Unheard of, especially in Suburbia. There wasn't a non-white soul on the entire block. And now there was a black man living not only in her town, but three doors down from her? "I'm sorry, did you say, wife?"

"As a matter of fact I did. I can tell you've probably never seen a black man in person your entire life, much less had sex with one." Marcus motioned to his chiseled physique. "And today just might be your lucky day. Let's face it, I've been in this neighborhood long enough to know what goes on, and who it goes on with. Your husband, for example, spends two nights a week in the city 'working.' Or at least that's what he tells you, I gather?" Susan was devastated. Although he exasperated himself trying to hide it from her, Susan knew that her husband, like every other husband on the block, kept a mistress in the city. She collapsed to the ground at hearing this from a complete stranger. Marcus put a shirt on and helped her up. "Let's take a walk shall we?"

The two left the house and headed for the far corner of the block. He pointed out every house on the block, who lived there, and who committed what indiscretions. For instance, Mr. Andrew Harrison directly across the street would purposely start arguments with his wife, Charlotte, to justify storming out of the house and not returning until the following morning. Where was he? In the city, in some other woman's apartment. Two doors down from them lived the Johnsons; the wife, Wilma, had sold them the house. Her husband, Michael, got his in before work with his secretary. The next house over was inhabited by the Robertsons, Bill and Heather. Their situation was by far the worst of all; Heather went to bed most nights knowing that Bill was in bed with another woman. "Why are they still together, you ask?" Marcus mused. "She's too afraid of what might happen if she were to leave him. She's never worked a day in her life, she couldn't sustain herself, and she'd more than likely lose custody of her two kids. So, she plays the happy housewife as best she can, keeping the house clean and food on the table." They arrived at the corner and turned around, with Marcus commenting on the houses on his side of the street until they returned to his place. "You'd be surprised how I manage to know so much, and maybe one day, if you act right, I'll show you. Later." He went inside, leaving Susan on the front porch bewildered.

The next couple of days went by fairly normally, with Randall, Susan's husband, staying at home and sleeping with her. But as much as Susan tried to get him to make love to her, he refused. Monday night he called from the office to say he would be working late. Susan began to get angry, but then she looked outside and saw Marcus's car in the driveway. Suddenly her tone changed, as she sweetly wished her hubby good night. She put the kids to bed soon after and then went into her own room. She gave herself a long look in the mirror, questioning the morality of her decision, then rationalizing that if her husband could have an affair, so could she. But dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, she hardly looked capable of even attracting another man, let alone sleeping with him. She put on a spaghetti strap tank and bikini set Randall had bought her for a beach trip the summer before. She loosely wrapped a silk skirt around her waist before ever so quietly tiptoeing out the door and down the street.

Marcus was in the basement when a green light mounted on the wall lit up. Who could be at the door at this hour, he pondered as he climbed the stairs. He was more than a little surprised to see Mrs. McCarty, and rather uncharacteristically dressed at that. "Mrs. McCarty, come on in... what business brings you by this late at night?"

"Oh, I'm not here on business. And please, call me Susan," she replied, putting an almost seductive tone in her voice that she hadn't used in a long time.

"Well then, Susan, can I offer you a drink?"

"What do you have?"

"Well, I do have a little something I came up with the recipe for while I was stationed in Italy. Do you like vodka?"

Oh no, Susan thought. Vodka lit her on fire; that was why she stopped drinking it. "I love vodka," she replied enthusiastically.

"Good, just a moment. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime." As Marcus turned towards the kitchen, she decided she would do just that. As she sat on the couch, she untied the strings on the sides of her bikini bottom, leaving it to fall if she should just happen to stand up. Eventually Marcus returned with two glasses filled with a pinkish-red concoction. "I call it Crimson Thunder," he said. "It's half vodka, half strawberry juice. Enjoy." He sat on the couch next to her and handed her the slightly less full of the two glasses.

"Bottoms up." Susan took a sip of her drink, letting it sit on her tongue for a few moments. God, it was good. She slowly drained the glass, savoring its taste as the concoction flowed smoothly across her teeth. She finished her drink and looked next to her at Marcus, who had barely touched his! More importantly, as soon as the last drop hit her stomach, Susan felt as if a rusted switch had been closed inside her. Her mind suddenly felt vibrant and alive, and she felt her pussy juices flow freer than they had in years. She didn't know if it was just the alcohol, the shirtless, hard-bodied man who was radiating pheromones like a bulb gives off light, the knowledge that she just didn't belong there, or perhaps all three. Her bikini was thoroughly soaked, and she could feel her cunt lips were open, in preparation for a satisfying cock to pass between them.

On the other hand, Marcus was a little thrown off. He knew she wanted sex the moment he saw her at the door, but judging by her current state, not even the sex machine that he was (according to his wife, anyway) would he be able to satisfy Susan. He excused himself, offering to prepare her another drink, which she sultrily accepted. He poured her a glass of straight juice, however. He could tell she wasn't intoxicated yet, and he planned to keep her that way. He returned to the living room, but before he could make it to the couch, Susan stood up and moved to meet him in the doorway. As she stood her bikini hit the floor, as she had expected; the wet splat it made came as a surprise however. Undaunted, she merely slipped off her sandals and took the glass from Marcus' hand. After downing its contents in three rapid gulps she guided him to the couch, where she straddled him and kissed him passionately. Marcus slipped his arms under her legs and grasped her by the shoulders. After a few moments of heated kissing, Marcus picked Susan up and effortlessly carried her upstairs! Normally he might ask a woman before doing something like that, but he could tell by the scent of Susan's aroused sex that she wasn't in the mood for answering any questions.

Once they got upstairs, Susan found herself pinned against a door, and took an arm from around Marcus' neck long enough to push it open. Marcus laid Susan down on the bed, then wasted no time taking his shorts off, letting free the biggest pecker Susan had ever laid eyes on! She cowered in terror: "My goodness, how big is that thing?"

"Last time I measured it at nine inches."

Susan was dumbstruck. Her husband Randall was the only man she had ever been with, and to say that he was six inches in length was probably being generous; not that she could remember, being as how she hadn't felt it for so long. She nervously reached out for it, half afraid, half anxious. Marcus couldn't help but grin as he brushed her hand away. "Let me," he offered gently as he untied the scarf around her waist, exposing her smoothly shaven cunt. "I didn't take you for a woman who shaved."

"Well, yes I do, for hygienic reasons."

"Understandable... a car that stays parked in the garage all the time still needs to be tuned, right?"

"True, true."

"Speaking of parking, how do you like it, parallel, angle, or perpendicular?"

"Hmm... let's see how you parallel park."

"Sounds good to me." Marcus lay between Susan's legs, and like a heat-seeking missile, his tip gravitated toward her slit. Susan reached down, parted her lips with two fingers on one hand while deftly feeding the monster past her cunt lips with the other two! Once she had pulled her hand away, Marcus took that as his cue to drop his pelvis straight down, eliciting a sharp yelp of pain as acceptingly or not, Susan's snatch was being stretched farther than it had ever been before!

Marcus slowly sexed Susan into a state of sheer ecstasy, thrusting slowly into her deepest recesses. Susan began scissoring her legs open and closed, varying the degree of tightness she put on Marcus' dick. "Mmm... you like that? You like feeling my big cock in your pussy?"

Susan threw her head back as she felt herself climax; she absolutely loved dirty talk. "Oh god yes, you make me feel so good."

"Hmm? What was that?"

"I said you make me feel good."

"Well, that's good and all, but I want you to tell me how your pussy feels."

"Oh, it feels so good... better than it has in a long time."

"Tell me how good your pussy feels."

"Oh, it fee-"

"No, not 'it.' I don't want to hear you say 'it.' I want to hear you say the word 'pussy.'"

"What?"

"It turns me on so much; I want you to say how your pussy feels."

For this man, Susan would have likely done anything to please him. "You make my pussy feel sooooooooooo good..."

"Mmm, I like that... what else?" he whispered in her ear, making her wetter by the letter.

"My pussy is so full..." She felt herself transforming as the words rolled off her tongue; it felt as if her inner slut was being brought to the surface. She started rattling on between moans: "God, my pussy is so full with your dick. Your dick is making my pussy cum over and over again... oh, ohhhh, oh god, I'm cumming again!" Susan was on the verge of a mind-numbing orgasm, and Marcus' elbows nearly buckled from the pressure that was being applied to his member by the contracting cunt he was buried up to his scrotum in! When Marcus and Susan locked eyes once again, she had a different look in her eyes. No longer was she the subdued housewife he had met earlier that week; here beneath him laid a woman who had been sexually reawakened. Here beneath him lay a woman who had been reminded of what it felt like to be truly enjoyed by a man, and to enjoy him as well. But most importantly, in the here and now, here beneath him lay a woman who had a large black cock inside her, and was eager to make that cock overflow her little white pussy with its sperm. She pulled her legs open and uttered three simple words:

"Fuck... me... NOW!"

Marcus cracked a grin. "Yes, ma'am," he replied as he propped himself up on one knee, careful not to pull out of her. He placed a leg over her hip then turned Susan on her side so that he was straddling one of her legs while she held the other in the air. Where he had been slowly making love to her, there was no such animal right now. This woman wanted to be fucked, and that was exactly what she was going to get. He pulled her down onto his rod as far as she would allow him to enter her, and then began mercilessly pounding away at her helpless pussy. Susan was almost in shock. She kept cumming over and over again until she was in the throes of one constant, never-ending climax. She rode this wave of sheer pleasure until she felt like Marcus pushing every inch of cock he had into her, and then some! Susan felt as if her cervix was going to be torn from her vagina, and both she and her lover let out deafening roars as Susan's hot box imploded around Marcus' pecker, causing him to pump shot after shot of jizz into her until it flowed back out! As if that weren't enough, Susan crawled away from underneath Marcus, finally freeing her pussy of its ravager, and stuck as many of her fingers into her cunt as deep as she could get them. She sighed in contentment as she pulled his sticky cum out of her soaking wet sex. Her fingers looked like they were covered in spider webs, until she put her hand to her mouth and licked each and every one of her fingers clean!

Meanwhile, Marcus could only shake his head at the spectacle unfolding before him. "So...?"

"So...what?"

"What's going through your mind right now?"

Susan sighed wistfully. "Reality. I have to get home."

Marcus shrugged. "Yeah, that much I expected. If this reached the wrong ears, or fell under the wrong eyes..."

Susan's eyes grew wide as saucers. "Randall might divorce me."

"Exactly."

Susan hyperventilated for a few brief moments, and then collected herself. It was only 10:30 at night, there was no way Randall was coming home that night. She and Marcus sat in the living room talking for a few minutes before asking Marcus to walk her to the door. After collecting her panties and Marcus' phone number, and a long good-bye kiss, she calmly went home, took a long, hot shower and went to bed.

The next day, Marcus woke up to a loud pounding at his front door. He got up to answer it as quickly as he could, but he needn't have rushed, because the knocking decreased neither in duration nor in loudness in the time it took him to get to the door. When he finally opened it, he was surprised again by Susan's presence, expect this time, she was bawling her eyes out. Right away, Marcus knew that somehow, someway, Randall had found out about last night and called Susan on it. Once the story came out, he had demanded a divorce. Marcus brought Susan in and sat her on the couch, where she confirmed his hypothesis. She held a document in one hand. "It's our pre-nup," she explained, "please, you have to help me... if he divorces me, I get nothing! Not my share of our joint-owned business, no house, I even lose custody of my children. Please, I am begging you, help me!"

Marcus felt responsibility to help her, not because he was the reason Randall wanted the divorce, but because to do anything less would allow Randall to get away with hypocritically accusing his wife of doing the same thing he'd been doing for who-knows-how long. Without a word he went into his basement. He emerged some great deal of time later with a videotape in hand. He popped the tape into his VCR and bade Susan to watch.

"Remember all that talk I made about who was doing what with whom?"

"Uh huh..."

"I have eyes and ears all over this city, and they all feed into my brain downstairs. Take a look." Susan looked up at the screen, and her emotions just went dead. Here, on this stranger's television set, were images of her husband having sex with one or more women. The images appeared to be from different times, but whether there were one or multiple women, there was one that was constant throughout the whole tape. It must have been his mistress, Susan gathered, the others brought in by her to fulfill his fantasies. Susan's glare remained fixed on the TV until Marcus' heightened voice snapped her out of her trance. "I've been saying that there's a clause in here: 'If the marriage is dissolved due to infidelity of one spouse, this agreement shall be declared null and void except in cases of alienation of affection.' In other words, if you prove that he's been cheating on you, if he tries to divorce you, you can take him to the bank, to the tune of five thousand dollars a month from what I'm reading here." Susan couldn't believe it. She had a way to rid herself of her bastard husband forever and still come out on top! "I'll give you a call later on," was all Susan said as she left, taking the tape with her.


Suburbia Ch. 01



Later that evening, Marcus went into the city to do some shopping. When he returned, he saw the McCartys on their front porch, locking eyes on his car as soon as he turned onto the street. He paid them no mind and unloaded his groceries, but no sooner had he finished doing so than the doorbell rang. Expecting to find Susan, he was unpleasantly surprised to find Mr. Randall McCarty standing on his front porch.

"Pull up a chair, Randall," was all Marcus said as he stepped onto the porch. His guest did so, and Marcus took a seat directly opposite him.

For a long time neither man spoke, Randall never taking his eyes off his wife, who was still across the street, and Marcus never taking his eyes off Randall. Finally Randall broke the ice: "I hear you showed my wife a pretty good time last night."

"OK...?"

"Or should I say, I smelled; she reeked of alcohol when I came home this morning. I asked her about it and she told me everything. I gotta ask, why? What in the hell would possess you to sleep with another man's wife?"

"The answer is on the ceiling right above you."

Randall looked up. Framed by the words, "The All-Knowing," was a mirror. He glared at Marcus. "You're saying I drove my wife to cheat on me?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying."

"Don't you judge me, dammit, you have no right!"

"I may not, but I can certainly provide damning evidence to those who do. Tell me; what's her name, the blonde, who lives in Rittenhouse Apartments, at 17th and Capitol Streets, apartment 1209? Heather Graham, isn't it?"

Randall almost choked. "How did you know?" he whispered.

"Like I told Susan, nothing happens on this block that I don't know about. Suffice it to say, I have my methods."

Randall forced a laugh. "Well, your 'methods' are going to be costing me $5000 a month from now on."

"I'm sorry?"

"She wants the divorce."

"Sorry as I am to hear that, I fail to see how that concerns me. However, I will say this: People who come over to my house to socialize, I offer drinks. People who are here on business, I don't. Now, I haven't offered you anything yet. What should that tell you?"

"You think I'm here on business?"

"It would certainly serve you well."

"How so?"

Marcus couldn't help but laugh. "If you haven't thought of something by now, then enjoy life with your new blonde bride."

"OK, OK, OK... I had thought of something..."

"I'm listening."

"Remember how I said that a divorce would cost me 5 grand a month?"

"Just in alimony. You haven't touched child support, or the cost of the divorce itself."

"Exactly. If that were to happen... here's the deal. You convince her to keep the marriage intact, and I'll pay you $2,500 a month."

"Hmm... I don't think I can do that without knowing what's in it for her."

"You."

"Huh?"

"The way you made her feel last night, she said that's the happiest she's been in years. And I could see it in her eyes, too. They had found their sparkle again, I guess. I mean, let's be realistic; there's no chance at 'us' ever being happy again. But if 'I' can be happy, and 'she' can be happy, then things will work out I think."

"Tell you what, I like the sound of that. I'll be right back." Marcus crossed the street, leaving Randall to watch him sit down with Susan and make his pitch. Eventually, Susan smiled and hugged Marcus, a surefire sign that she had accepted. Finally the three came together to finalize the deal. Randall would make payments on the 1st and 15th of every month of $1,250 each into a private account at the bank Susan worked at under Marcus' name. Susan wouldn't bring the divorce suit, and Marcus would see to it that she was cared for sexually.

Marcus had to congratulate himself on this deal. He was never much of a businessman, but the $1,250 that was being deposited into his bank account every two weeks (by the husband of the woman whose sexual rebirth he was overseeing, no less), might have convinced some people otherwise.



Suburbia Ch. 02



Three days have now passed since the events of Chapter 1. Susan and Marcus have had sex at least once a day since then. Although she still socializes with the rest of the housewives on the block, she has been careful to keep their trysts a secret. The story picks up Thursday night, after another bout of hot, steamy sex.

=========== 

Chapter 2: Three's Company

Marcus and Susan lay in bed, snuggled tightly under the covers. It had been three days since their first fling together, and it was only through a wide open gash in Susan's pre-nuptial agreement (because the word 'loophole' does not even begin to do it justice) that they were able to keep seeing each other without the threat of ending her marriage. "You want to hear something strange?" Susan asked.

"What's that?"

"Ever since Tuesday night, Randall has stayed home with us every night."

Marcus couldn't help but laugh. "What did you say?"

"He hasn't gone to see his other woman at all this week. I don't know if it's because he's sorry, or what."

"A piece of advice: People are never sorry for having affairs. A person can be legitimately sorry if he or she sleeps with someone else one time. An affair is more than just a one-night stand though, or something done under the influence of alcohol. If a person acts like he or she feels guilty over having had an affair, they're not lamenting the affair itself, just the fact that he or she got caught."

Susan sat up. "You certainly are a wise man. Do you know I don't even know how old you are?"

"That's OK, it's mutual."

"Well, would you like to know?"

"No lies, though."

"Of course not. I'm 46. Now it's your turn."

"I just had my 26th birthday three months ago."

Susan was so shocked she fell back to the bed laughing. Not only was she having the best sex of her life, but she was having it with someone young enough to be her own son. "Oh well, such is life sometimes," Susan sighed.

"Speaking of kids, how old are yours?"

"Tyler's fifteen, and Lynn is eight."

"Oh OK... well spaced out... great idea."

"Do you have any kids yet?"

"No, not yet. Natalie wants to get out of the Army first."

"How'd the two of you meet?"

"Well, we ended up being stationed together in Italy together. We got there on the same day about four years ago, and once we met we were pretty much inseparable. We hadn't really thought about marriage until about three years ago, when deployment rumors started swirling. This was around the summer of '02 and we'd been together about a year and a half, we figured it was better done sooner than later, because we'd be relocating shortly after returning from any deployments. So we got married, and we were glad we did, because two months later we were over in Iraq. We spent a year there, then went back to Italy. The rest of my term went well, but she still had a year and change left when time came for me to get out so she ended up getting deployed again. Before deploying, she said she wanted to buy our house, so that I could stay there, make any needed repairs, decorate, blah blah blah. This is, in a nutshell, how you ended up in our house in bed with me."

"Interesting… very interesting." They made small talk for a little while longer until Susan decided it was time to go home. Marcus watched her as she got dressed and accompanied her to the front door.

"Your wife sounds like a wonderful woman, although I wonder what she'd do if she knew you were having sex with another woman."

"She does know. What, you thought you were the first?"

"What?!"

"Natalie and I have what is commonly defined as an open marriage. If she wants to sleep with another man, or woman for that matter, she is more than free to do so. Just like I can help myself to all the women I can pick up. We even send each other photos and videos sometimes."

Now Susan was a little nervous. "You haven't sent her anything with me in it, have you?"

"No, but I've almost got enough footage. In fact, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to stay with me this weekend to go over it."

"How? How'd you turn the cameras on without me knowing?"

"I possess the technological means to observe any place at any time. Think I can't do the same in my own house? Every moment of every day is recorded in this house; all I have to do is edit the tape."

"Uh huh...well, I guess it won't do me any good wondering about it. But back to this weekend: that would be perfect. The kids are going to their grandmother's house until Sunday."

"All right, then I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night."

They kissed deeply for several moments before Susan left, squeezing Marcus' dick as she left. "Maybe earlier; I might not be able to last until then without this!" She bounced down the steps and across the street to her own house. She quietly unlocked the door and slipped inside, concerned more for hiding from her children than her husband. She made her way upstairs and into bed without as much as a peep.

The next morning Susan kissed her kids and husband goodbye for the weekend. Randall knew of her plans, so he had made arrangements to stay with his mistress until he had to pick the kids up Sunday night. Their car pulled out of the garage and down the street. Shortly afterwards, there was a knock on the door. She opened it, and her friend Marianne Washington nearly pushed her over trying to get inside. "Um, hi Marianne... is everything all right?"

The forty-two-year-old woman glared at Susan, her eyes full of rage. "You...filthy...slut! I saw you coming out of that house last night, late last night. Now you had better come clean or I will tell your husband and you will lose everything! Then I'm going to tell-"

"Honey, Randall knows about me and Marcus." Susan couldn't believe what she had just said, but it felt good. Marcus had self-confidence to spare; perhaps he had imparted some of it to her. Plus, Marianne lived right next door to Marcus, so it wasn't that hard to believe that she'd seen her.

"What? You've got to be kidding me!"

"No, I'm not. He found out and almost tried to divorce me, but thanks to a little clause in our pre-nup he decided that wouldn't be the wisest decision."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing. Why? Why are you sleeping with him?"

"For one simple reason: I NEED SEX! You cannot even begin to comprehend how it felt to be made love to for the first time in years. Let me ask you something: When was the last time you and Nathan had sex?"

"My sex life with my husband is none of your business!"

"Do you even really have one? How many nights a week does he call to say he's working late? How many times has he come home, ripe with the smell of another woman on him? Hell, when was the last time you even slept in the same bed together?"

"I'm leaving, and I'm telling the whole group about you! You better hope he never moves away, because you'll never have another friend in this town again!" She stormed out to leave, but Susan calmly took her by the arm. "Sit down, please. Let me make you some coffee and we'll talk about this."

Begrudgingly Marianne complied, and Susan set about making the coffee. "Would you excuse me for a moment? I have to go upstairs."

"Sure, I'll watch the coffee."

Susan went upstairs to her bedroom closing the door behind her. She quickly dialed up Marcus' number, and after a few rings, he answered. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's me."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Listen, do you have anything on Nathan Washington?"

"Yeah, I've got a tape with about an hour's worth of stuff on it, why?"

"OK, here's the deal: I'm got his wife at my place. Bring his tape over here, and ours also."

"All right, just give me a minute."

"Thank you so much! Bye bye!" Susan hung up and rejoined her guest. The two women leisurely sipped coffee and chatted until the doorbell rang. On the other side of it was Marcus, as Susan had expected. She and Marcus shared a quick kiss before he extended his hand to Marianne. She refused, saying coldly, "I know who you are."

"Well, so much for pleasant introductions. Listen, Marianne, on this tape is some pretty disturbing content. I wouldn't advise you watching it unless you're ready to accept the truth." He put the tape into Susan's VCR and handed Marianne the remote control. He and Susan stepped back while waiting for Marianne to make a decision. After an eternity of thought, she finally hit the play button. An image came up of her husband's office. He was in a meeting with someone, nothing out of the ordinary. She did notice him seated uncomfortably close to his desk, but still though nothing of it. After a few brief moments the visitor left, and Nathan was seen sliding back from his desk with his fly undone, and from underneath emerged a naked young woman. Apparently she had been blowing him during his conference, because she brought him to orgasm in no time. They continued having sex for several minutes before Marianne decided she had seen enough. She turned the tape off and remained seated on the couch, with a faraway look in her eyes. Susan sat next to her friend, offering her a shoulder to cry on, but strangely enough no tears came. "Well, at least I know why he's always home on time from work. He came home one night a few years ago smelling like he had put in a day in the perfume aisle. He swore he'd never do it again, but I never saw any reason to believe him. You asked me a question earlier; we haven't even slept in the same bed since then. I've had to start keeping my nails rounded, I used to masturbate so much. I'm so tight, I could probably stick a needle in my vagina and it wouldn't fall out." Marianne's head sank. "I don't know what to do; I mean I do still love him, plus our kids would be devastated if we got divorced."

Susan put an arm around Marianne. "I understand that, but let me tell you something that I realized a few days ago. When people get married, they have a responsibility to see to each other's needs. All of them, not just physically. However, if a man is neglecting his wife's needs, she has two choices: a) stew in an unfulfilled silence, or b) see to her needs herself. Now I understand how you feel towards your marriage, but what I can't understand is how someone can keep an unrequited loyalty to someone who doesn't seem to share the same feelings?

Before Marianne could answer, Marcus chimed in, "This might not be the best time to ask this, but when was the last time you actually had an orgasm?"

Marianne's jaw hit the floor. She couldn't believe that a complete stranger had the gall to ask her this, and if he thought he was going to have his way with her the way he had with Susan, then he was dead wrong. She began to give him a piece of her mind, but Marcus was already halfway out the door. "If it's been less than say, six months, I suggest you get one, and get one soon. They can be extremely therapeutic."

"What are you, a sex therapist?"

"Well, I do have a Ph.D. in Fuckonomics 117. You two have a good day." With those words and a wink Marcus left the two ladies alone. Immediately Marianne railed him: "The nerve of that man! To try and convince me to actually cheat on my husband! And shame on you for helping him!"

"Actually, he never did that, nor did I."

"'An unfulfilled woman should look after her own needs?' That is what you said, if I'm not mistaken."

"That is what I did say. What I did not say was how you should go about doing it."

"And telling me to have an orgasm, talking about how 'therapeutic' they are..."

"Whooo... honey, you have no idea."

"Oh come on now, don't tell me he actually got you to fall for those same lines?"

"No, not at all. When I first decided to have sex with him, I did it for myself, but mostly to spite my husband. He goes to sleep, every night, sexually satisfied, and doesn't even seem to care about me. There have been times when I've literally thrown myself at him, just wanting him to fuck me like the animal he used to be, and from what I understand he still is. But he's always had an excuse ready: too tired, too stressed out, too something. So I got tired of the excuses. If he wouldn't take care of me, I'd find someone who would."

Marianne was a little shocked at hearing the 'f' word out of her best friend's proper mouth. "Well, was it at least good? I mean, worth nearly ruining your marriage good?"

"Marianne, look around you. EVERY marriage on this block is ruined. We may all look like perfect couples on the outside, but behind closed doors...well, the tape speaks for itself, I suppose."

"Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

"Perhaps not, but each of us will be held accountable for our actions by someone or something. Randall's learning that now."

Marianne arched an eyebrow. "I've never heard you this philosophical before. It must be you spending so much time with that guy!"

"That guy has a name, Marcus. And Marcus is an extremely intelligent man. You know some people say a man's brain is in his dick?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you think we start acting like the men we have sex with?" The two women spent several minutes bent over double in laughter before continuing their conversation: "But back to your question of was it good..."

"I'm listening."

Susan gave Marianne the complete rundown: how big Marcus was, how he stroked her, kissed her, caressed her, made her feel more like a woman than she had felt in years. "The best part of it all, though, is his humility. You remember a couple a months ago when we went to that bar, and that guy-"

"Kept telling me how great he was in bed, yeah, I remember," Marianne shuddered.

"Well, Marcus is the exact opposite, he's doesn't talk about how good he is, or how big he is, he just does what he does at the best of his ability. And he can 'do it' for quite some time; he's not just gonna get his and then leave you high and dry."

Now Marianne's curiosity was piqued. "Well, how many times did you come?"

"The first night felt like one long climax all night long." Marianne had a look of shock on her face as Susan continued: "Since then he gives me at least three every time we go at it."

"You mean you've had more?"

"Have I had more? Last night, we had sex for two and a half hours straight, and I came seven times!"

Marianne's pussy was getting wetter by the minute. She wanted to know more: "Well, has he ever, you know, gone...south of the border?"

"No, come to think of it. That just might not be his thing. But truth be told, it was never mine either."

"What? Randall never ate you out?"

"Nope."

"Wow... I used to love when Nathan would give me oral sex."

"Well, I don't... wait a minute, what's that..." Susan sniffed the air, and then checked her panties. She was relatively dry. She then caught her guest looking around nervously at the walls. "Marianne Washington!" she gasped.

"I can't help it! All this talk about sex just got me so horny! And in the mood for some tongue of all things!"

Susan couldn't help but laugh. "Well don't look at me."

"Arrrrrgh! Well, I'm going home to try and figure something out!"

Susan hugged her friend as she showed her the door. "All right sweetheart, you take care. Oh, and by the way, the kids are out of town so I'll be at Marcus' place all weekend."

"No, no more dirty talk!"

"Well I'm sure that he won't mind you stopping by. See you later, Marianne." Susan closed the door and Marianne went home. She tried to take a nap but it was no good. She was way too aroused to be able to sleep, and as much as she frigged her clit, the feeling just wouldn't go away. She called her husband at work and literally begged him to come home and satisfy her, but all her requests, advances and demands were refused. Eventually she decided she had to get out of the house, so she went to the mall. If her husband wouldn't please her, he could at least buy her a new outfit.

Meanwhile, the evening faded into night, and at around 9:00, Susan knocked on Marcus' door with a small overnight bag in tow. Marcus quickly opened and shut it behind her, and she immediately threw himself into his arms. Marcus had to calm her down and excused himself to go take a shower. Susan reluctantly allowed him to leave but did tell him to hurry. In the meantime she undressed herself, but just as she finished, Susan's cell phone beeped. On it was a text message:

"OPEN THE BACK DOOR – MARIANNE"

Susan quickly but quietly moved through the house and opened the back door. Marianne was waiting outside, and looked a wreck. Susan quickly pulled her into the kitchen and asked, "Marianne, what's wrong?"

"My pussy is on fire is what's wrong!"

"Oh my..."

"I tried calling Nathan and getting him to come home, but he wouldn't. I've spent the better part of the day fingering myself to no avail. I need my clit sucked, and I need it sucked now!"

"Well, Marcus is in the shower right now."

"Then I'm going in after him."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down."

"Susan, I am trying desperately to remain relatively calm here, but my vagina is doing most of the thinking here. Let me at him!"

"That's your problem; desperation is a huge turn-off. Take a deep breath." They took a couple deep breaths together, and then Susan instructed Marianne to get naked. She did so and put her clothes on the couch. Calmly now, the two ladies then went upstairs into Marcus' master bathroom. "Oh, Marcus?" Susan sang sweetly.

"Yes?"

"We have a guest."

"Hmm...Marianne right? I've been expecting you," he responded in a seductive tone.

"Oh really?" Marianne responded in just as sultry a tone.

"Yes, and I also know why you're here. You want me to eat you out, don't you?"

"Yes, I do, unless that's not something that you do..."

"Susan?"

"Yes?"

"You know what to do." Right away Susan led Marianne into another bathroom. She sat Marianne down in the tub with her legs open and pulled the massaging showerhead from its place. "How does that feel?" Susan asked, turning on the water and spraying warm jets over Marianne's genital area.

"Depends on what you're planning to do to me?"

"Shaving you. He's willing to suck you off better than anyone you've ever been with, but he's got a hang-up about down-there-hair."

"Uh, huh."

"So...? What'll it be?"

"What do I tell Nathan?"

"Cleanliness. Besides, how likely is he to find out?" The women shared a giggle as Susan lathered up Marianne's cunt. In almost no time at all she was smooth as a baby's bottom. "What do you think?" Susan asked as she handed Marianne a mirror.

"Wow... there's no hair left at all! It feels kinda good, to tell the truth. But I still don't get it. Why was he expecting me?"

"Maybe he reads minds?"

"Or maybe you told him I'd be coming?"

"I kinda hinted at it, yeah."

Marianne climbed out of the tub and looked at herself and Susan in the mirror. "What would I do without you?"

"We'll figure that out later. Right now, there's one mouth and two pussies for it to suck."

"Right on, then." The ladies returned to Marcus' bedroom to find him stretched out on his king size bed, his cock already standing at full attention. Marianne shrank back at the sight of it. "My god, how did you get that thing in you?"

"House rule number one: no questions beginning with 'how.'"

"Fair enough." Both women moved into the room, Susan laying down on Marcus' left and Marianne to his right. Marcus took turns kissing both women while the sexy tandem stroked his massive rod. "So ladies, would you like to move into position, or are you waiting for me to help you?"

"Certainly." Susan squatted over his cock and helped Marianne to get comfortable on his face. At first Marianne sat facing the headboard, but Susan corrected her: "Turn around; he stuck his tongue in me and I lurched forward so hard I banged my head on the wall."

Wow, this guy must be good, Marianne thought as she turned and sat facing her friend, who was already riding Marcus' pole. She had barely gotten settled when she felt Marcus' tongue push its way through the folds of her cunt. "Oh my gosh, that feels soooooooooooooooo gooooooooooooooooooooooooood," Marianne moaned softly. She ground her hips against Marcus, who was thoroughly enjoying pleasuring both wives at the same time. Susan invited Marianne to lay flat against Marcus' body, under the pretense that it would help her to relax more. Marianne complied, never having noticed that Susan was sitting crab-style in Marcus' lap, and soon Marianne found herself face to face with the other two sexes!




Suburbia Ch. 02



"Um, Susan, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon, anything."

"What's that... thing above your vagina?"

Susan was terrified, thinking Marianne might have spotted a tumor of some type. "I don't know, what does it look like?"

"Well, it's a bump, and it sticks out kinda far from you."

"Could you touch it for me please?"

Marianne did so, and the look on Susan's face was less than pleased. "You honestly don't know what that is?"

"Uh uh," Marianne responded ashamedly.

"Not a problem, I got this one," said Marcus, his voice muffled by Marianne's pelvis. Suddenly Marianne felt jolts of electricity literally tear through her body. She cried out as she grabbed hold of Susan's hips, completely impaling her on Marcus' pecker. "What are you doing... let me go..." Susan struggled to free herself, but in the end the more she struggled, the further she brought herself towards her own gut-twisting orgasm! All her twisted and writhing wasn't doing Marcus any favors either, as was evidenced by his dick exploding within her, filling her tunnel with his hot seed.

Susan lay on her back, caressing her clit for a few moments as she finished riding out her own climax. A hand gently moved hers away from between her legs and a tongue began licking her steaming cunt, more in an exploratory manner than actual cunnilingus.


"Mmmm... what are you looking for down there, Marcus?"

"Um, I'm up here."

Susan sat up and saw Marcus positioned behind Marianne, who had her head buried between Susan's thighs! "Marianne, what do you think you're doing?"

"I just love the smell of your pussy so much... please let me suck it..."

"I... I don't know, I've never done anything like this before..."

"Well, there's a first time for everything, right?" Her voice was so smooth, calm, and seductive; Susan couldn't resist. She guided Marianne's head to her dripping vagina, which was still leaking Marcus' jizz. Meanwhile Marcus had taken his position behind Marianne, who waved her ass lewdly at him. "Oh, you want this, huh?" Marcus asked as he slapped the tip of his cock against Marianne's slit. Marianne managed an affirmative response as she lapped at her best friend's cunt. She parted her lips and Marcus slid his cock effortlessly between them. Marcus almost fell in love with her pussy right away; she was accommodatingly tight, but not to the point where one would believe that she wasn't having sex on a regular basis. Marianne, meanwhile, was in heaven; she had a large dick pumping away at her pussy, and she had a freshly fucked cunt in front of her, which she was enjoying sucking two people's cum out of. She wasn't a lesbian or even bisexual, but there was something about the way Susan's snatch smelled after she had been fucked that was just irresistible. The force and speed of Marcus' strokes began increasing as he built up to his second orgasm, until he pulled Marianne's hips into his, causing Marianne to buckle as her own O-train pulled into the station. Marcus let a torrent of his own joy juice flow into Marianne before withdrawing from her, leaving her cunt in the same condition he had left Susan's in.

As Marcus went to the bathroom to wash up, the two women laid next two each other, kissing and fondling each other's bodies. At some point, Marianne's brain woke up: "What are we doing?"

"Hmm... does it matter? So long as it feels good, right?"

"Yeah, but that would make us-"

"Gay? Look, I don't know about you, but I don't consider myself lesbian, bi, anything like that. Whatever happened--whatever happens--there's no reason to let it define who we are."

"Well, that makes sense enough, I suppose."

Susan kissed Marianne lightly on the mouth and ran a hand through her hair. "You should probably get dressed now."

Marianne frowned. "Are you gonna kick me out?"

"Well your husband's probably worried enough about you as it is."

"He's out of the house tonight. Probably won't be back until after work tomorrow."

"Well, Marcus, what do you think?" Marcus lay down between the two ladies. "You are welcome here anytime, both of you."

"Oh, I don't know about that... it'll be a wonder if I can even keep this from Nathan."

"Tell you what, why don't you worry about that another time?"

Susan chimed in: "Yeah, this is the house of love; all unpleasant talk ought to be left at the door."

Love... an almost foreign word to Marianne. It had been so long since she had heard it from her husband, her parents, anybody. She accepted, becoming the second member of Marcus' stable. He pulled a blanket over the three of them, and they snuggled up together and went to sleep.

THE END



Suburbia Ch. 03



At the end of Chapter 2, Marianne went to bed with Marcus and Susan. The story resumes the next morning.

========== Chapter 3: Mr. Washington

At around 11:30 am, Marianne snuck out of Marcus' back door and into her own. The house was quiet, and there were some dishes in the sink. Nathan had been and gone, and had left a note on the kitchen sink:

"Came home @ 7. House was empty. Call me." There was a strange number at the bottom of the paper. Marianne was incensed. How dare he ask her to call him at another woman's house? Suddenly, anger gave way to worry. What if he knew where she had been, and more importantly, what she had been doing there? She picked up the phone and immediately dialed Susan, who agreed to give her an alibi if the need arose. Somewhat relieved, Marianne called the number Nathan had left her. A male voice picked up:

"Marianne?"

"Nathan?"

"I'm on my way home."

"Nathan wait, I-" The line went dead. Okay, get yourself together, Marianne thought. Her first thought was to get cleaned up; yes, a nice long shower was definitely in order. She left her clothes on the kitchen floor and hopped in the shower. She let the hot water run over her smooth skin, feeling like her transgressions were being washed down the drain. She was so busy reliving the events of the night before, however, that she never heard the front door open and close. Suddenly the shower curtain was pulled back, and Marianne shrieked in fear, only to see her husband standing before her.

"My god in heaven, you scared the hell out of me!"

"The feeling's mutual. Where have you been all night?"

"I went to Susan's place. Her kids are with their grandparents and she was home alone."

"I see. Well, come in the bedroom when you get out of the shower."

"All right." Marianne lingered in the shower, trying to think of how she could worm her way out of this situation. She turned off the water and stepped out, but before she could get her bathrobe around her body, a pair of hands grabbed her by the waist, carried her into the bedroom and slammed her on the bed! She looked up in horror as her husband had a menacing look on his face. He pinned her hands above her head and lay on top of her, crushing her with his body weight. "Where the hell were you last night?"

"I told you, at Susan's house. Let me go, you're hurting me!"

Nathan put both of Marianne's hands in one of his, roaming her naked, cowering body with the other one. "Who is he? I know you were out fucking someone last night; come on, spit it out!"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Please, let me go." Her voice was laden with fear, which served only to incite Nathan even more. His moral compass somehow allowed him to continue to interrogate his wife for something he was guilty of himself. He touched and searched her everywhere, looking for any tell-tale marks or scratches. But when he got to her now hairless mound, he stopped. "Marianne, what's this?"

"It's called a pussy. More importantly than that, it's my pussy."

"Yeah, and it's shaved..." As if rapt in fascination, Nathan rubbed slowly as his wife's pussy. Marianne didn't know whether she should be excited that he was touching her, or fearful that he still might hurt her. All such doubts were erased, however, when he flung her legs open and began sucking her cunt. Marianne was caught completely off-guard; all of a sudden it was like they were in a happier time, before all of his philandering and womanizing had left their marriage an emotionally depleted void. Nathan might not have been the best fuck she'd ever had (in fact, he bordered on the worst), but when it came to sucking pussy, there was nobody better.

After a plethora of orgasms, Marianne lay in bed with her husband for the first time she could remember in a long time. Suddenly she felt pangs of guilt, and confessed everything that had happened the night before, leaving Susan conveniently out of it.

Nathan lay there in stunned silence. "I knew it. I couldn't envision you shaving yourself for no reason at all... can I just ask one question?"

"What?"

"Was it good? I mean better-than-me good?"

"Do you want the truth?"

Nathan chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes. Well, as long as he's good, I really don't see any problems with it."

Marianne was stunned. "Huh? I just told you I had sex with another man, and you 'really don't see any problems with it?'"

"Marianne, I never could please you, you know that as well as I do. I mean, I love giving you head and all, but not being able to do more than that... it hurts. But rather than try to work out our problems between us, I found someone I could satisfy. I've been having affairs at work for the last ten years."

Marianne tried to sound hurt, as she already knew the truth. "Well, let's just put the past behind us, and try to get back to being 'us' again." 

That night Nathan opted to stay home, but Marianne insisted on sleeping on the couch. As put off as he was, he relented, not wanting to push her any farther away. When he woke up in the morning, he found his usual breakfast, coffee, and morning paper on the table. He regretted all those years of womanizing and cheating, but he knew he couldn't put it behind him. Suddenly he had an idea.

"Remember last night you said we should get back to being us again? I think I've got an idea how we can do that."

"How?"

"Why don't you let me in sometimes?"

"Let you in what?"

"Let me watch you and Marcus have sex."

OK, first he was giving her free rein to sleep around, now he wanted to be a part of it? "I don't know how well he'll take that."

"Well, bring it up to him, see what he says, then get back to me."

"All right, I'll do that."

"OK. Listen, I gotta get to work. Let me know what happens." For the first time in years, Nathan Washington kissed his wife good-bye as he walked out the door. Marianne waved after him smiling, another first in many years. She sent a text message to Susan asking her to call her back. Susan called back more than half an hour later, breathing heavily. "Hello?"

"Susan, it's Marianne. Goodness, you sound like you just got through another romp."

"You could sa-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyah!"

Marianne yelled, "Marcus, can you at least wait till we get off the phone?"

A brief silence, then Susan came back: "He said he could, but it wouldn't be as much fun."

Marianne sighed. "Anyway, he's actually the one I need to talk to."

"Well then -ooh- get over here and -ahh- get some of -uhh- this magnificent cock." Marianne was worried; just hearing her best friend's voice laden with sexuality made her wet. As she started to play with her pussy, she decided she'd try something else she'd never done before. She got comfortable on the couch and tossed her robe aside. "Magnificent, you say?" she asked Susan, her own breath becoming heavier.

"Oh yes, I haven't been fucked this good in a long time," came Susan's moan-punctuated reply.

"Mmm, how long has it been?" Marianne moaned as she took a nipple in her mouth.

Now Susan had picked up on what was happening on Marianne's end of the line. She played along, "It's been a long, long time, baby. I haven't had a long, fat dick like this in my pussy in years. I want you to come feel this, too. I want you to feel this raw piece of steel sliding in and out of your wet cunt." Marianne's fingers were now flying in and out of her snatch. She cried out into the receiver as she climaxed, much to Susan's delight. She excused herself and Marcus allowed her to get dressed, knowing where she was heading.

Marianne was still catching her breath when the doorbell rang. She peered through the peephole and saw it was Susan, so she hid behind the door as she opened it. Susan stepped inside quickly, closing the door behind her. "So, what did you think of phone sex?"

Marianne chuckled, slapping her forehead. "Unbe-fucking-lievable!"

"Well then, like I said, why don't you come on over and get you some?"

Marianne looked at Susan with a crazed look in her eyes. "Because right now, I don't want him, I want you."

Susan was taken aback. "What do you mean, you want me?"

"When Marcus was fucking you, when I heard your voice, when I heard you screaming and moaning, you made me so goddamn wet it's not funny. Not him, you." She stepped slowly across the room towards Susan, who remained strangely calm. "Susan, I don't care what happens, if we never speak to each other again. But if only just this once, let me have you." Marianne reached out for Susan, who accepted her with open arms. The two ladies shared a passionate kiss before dropping to their knees on the floor. Susan helped Marianne strip her, tossing her clothes onto the couch. They kissed and caressed each other before Susan came up with an idea. "Sit down and spread your legs, with your knees up." She had the tone of a woman who perhaps had some lesbian experiences in the past, so Marianne willingly obeyed. Once Marianne was situated, Susan squatted down over Marianne's left leg and pushed her onto her side. "Are you comfortable?" Susan asked her as she ground her left thigh into Marianne's soaking wet cunt.

"Yes, I'm fine... my god, that feels good..."

"Then do it to me," Susan whispered. It took a few moments, but Marianne eventually got the hang of it, grinding her thigh into Susan's pussy. They continued kissing and touching each other, even fingering each other's cunts, until they were both exhausted. They lay on the carpet for several moments, before Marianne asked, "So are we gay now?"

Susan couldn't help but laugh. "I guess at the very most, we're bisexual. But does it really matter?"

"I guess not," Marianne shrugged, "it's just that your voice has some mysterious power over me or something, I don't know, I just can't resist you."

Susan was wistful. It had been a long time since anybody had considered her irresistible, much less a woman. "To tell the truth, I never really asked you to."

"So what happens now?"

"I guess we're officially girlfriends now," Susan laughed. Marianne sighed anxiously; that was the response that she had been hoping for. The two shared a hug before Susan got dressed and headed back over to Marcus' house. Marianne paid a visit herself later on that evening and explained to Marcus what had happened that morning. Marcus said that he'd be fine with it, but for discretion purposes Nathan should probably bring another female over; that way, to anyone on the outside, it would just look like Nathan and Marianne were introducing someone to Marcus. Marianne agreed, saying she had the perfect female in mind. She went home and called her husband, telling him to bring his friend from the office if he wanted the 'special favor' they had talked about earlier. When Nathan dumbly asked which one, Marianne snapped, "The one you've been fucking, nimrod." She hung up and waited for her husband and guest to arrive. Around 8 pm, Nathan's car pulled into the driveway. A young redhead hopped out of the passenger seat, which Marianne thought was odd; that wasn't the woman from the office video. Oh well, as long as it was a woman she would do fine, Marianne thought. They came through the door and the redhead threw herself at Nathan before noticing Marianne sitting on the couch. "Um, Nate honey, who's that?"

Marianne interjected, "I'm Marianne, the wife of the man you're calling 'honey.' Nathan, why don't you go upstairs so we can talk?" Nathan gave the redhead a you're-on-your-own look and hustled up the steps. Marianne watched as he disappeared from view, then asked the other woman her name.

"I'm Jenna. You must be Marianne."

Marianne nodded in comprehension, then suddenly grabbed Jenna and slammed her down to the ground. She put Jenna's neck in the bend of her knee and crouched down, using her weight to control how well Jenna was able to breathe. "Listen to me, you little tart. I know one thing about you, and that's the fact that you're sleeping with my husband. What I want to know is, why?"

"Well, it's obvious you can't satisfy him, so he found someone who could."

Marianne smiled and lifted up slightly off of Jenna's throat. "No, you've got that confused. He couldn't please me, and that hurt his ego, so he found someone he could please. But I don't think you understood my question, so let me rephrase it: why do you constantly sleep with him? I mean, I love him to death, otherwise I'd have divorced him a long time ago, but he's not exactly the greatest fuck in the world."

"I have my reasons," Jenna retorted.

Marianne's smile (along with Jenna's oxygen flow) disappeared. "Care to share some of those reasons?"

"OK, OK... it's because I like to deep throat and get fucked in the ass, and I can't do that with a guy with a big dick!"

Marianne leaned down hard once more on Jenna's neck before getting up and pulling her to the couch. "Well, I will admit, those do sound like things better practiced with a guy with a less-than-huge cock. But what about your pussy? I mean, a small one like his can't do much for you?"

"It does enough. Plus it keeps it tight."

"Hmm... I see. So you're a young girl with a tight pussy, a tight ass, and a tight mouth. Well, Nathan and I are having company tonight, and he has probably the largest cock you've ever seen. And you are going to do any and everything he and I tell you to do, is that understood?"

"And if I don't?"

"I'll sue you for ruining my marriage."

"You've got no case."

"You might want to go study this state's alienation of affection law then."

"All right, all right, I'll do it, but I'm doing this for Nathan, not you."

"Your cooperation will suffice, regardless of who you do it for." At that moment the doorbell rang. "Nathan?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I'm going to prepare our little friend here. Why don't you be a darling and let our visitor in and let him get comfortable?" Marianne led Jenna upstairs while Nathan came down to answer the door. Just as Marianne had guessed, it was Marcus. "You must be Nathan," he said as he fluidly slid inside the door.

"Yes, and your name is?"

"Marcus. Nice to meet you. Marianne told me about this morning and I have to warn you, if I ever hear of you getting violent with your wife again, I will report you to the authorites. Now, having gotten that bit of unpleasant business out of the way..." Marcus produced a metal tumbler from a backpack he was carrying. He asked for, and Nathan provided, four glasses which he promptly filled with his Crimson Thunder special. By now, Marianne had brought Jenna back downstairs in only her bra and panties. Marcus eyed her like a hunter eyeing a prize game animal. "And who, may I ask, is this?"

Marianne offered her own introduction: "This is my husband's little fucktoy, Jenna. We're gonna show her what it's like to get fucked by a monster cock in all three of her holes, and then, I'm gonna make her my little cunt-licking whore."

Jenna was dumbstruck. First of all, never in her life had she slept with anyone other than white men, and not only was she being threatened with what amounted to being raped by this black man, but the wife of someone she was sleeping with was planning on turning her into a lesbian. She started for the stairs, but Marianne grabbed her by the arm and tossed her back onto the couch. "Don't even think about it," she said acidly. Marcus offered everyone drinks, but Jenna refused, shrinking into the fetal position. To her surprise Marcus didn't get aggressive with her, he merely shrugged and drank both her glass and his own, mentioning that there was plenty more.

After a few drinks, everyone was sitting on the floor completely naked, the only exception being Marcus, who was keeping his underwear on at Marianne's instruction. Jenna was still remaining relatively quiet, which drew Marianne's ire: "Honey, why are you being so shy? Don't you see my husband sitting over there, stroking his cock, wanting you to come suck it for him?" Jenna knew what that meant; whether Nathan wanted it or not, she was being instructed to suck her lover's cock right then and there. She crawled across the floor and immediately deep throated Nathan. She was working on bringing his to orgasm, but Marianne stopped her. "No, no, no, I don't want him to cum in your mouth, I want to watch him fuck you and cum in your tight little pussy." Having already been briefed by his wife, Nathan kneeled down behind Jenna and held her body against his while she parted her thighs and slid his pecker into her cunt.

After watching Nathan and Jenna go at it long enough, Marianne decided it was time to teach this little slut her first lesson of the night. She pulled Marcus' massive hard-on out of his boxers, eliciting a gasp from both Jenna and Nathan when they realized how truly big it was. She fisted it briefly before laying on her back with Marcus in between them. "Bring the little bitch over here," Marianne hissed, "I want her to see what a real dick looks like, no offense hon." As upsetting as it was to hear his own wife compare another man's cock to his own, Nathan simply resigned himself to the fact that he had a small pecker, as he had come to terms with long ago. He pushed Jenna onto his wife's body so that they were laying 69-style, and Marcus' boner was pointing right at the terrified redhead's face!

"Open your mouth," Marianne ordered.

"No, I won't do it," Jenna whispered, not knowing whether to be more afraid of what would happen if she obeyed or disobeyed. "Back up some, Marcus," was all she heard. She looked up to see Marcus back away as he had been instructed, only to have her worst nightmare realized as Marianne grabbed her by the ears, pulled her face first into her snatch and crush her head between her legs!

"I said I was gonna make you my cunt-licking whore, so lick my cunt, whore!" Frantically Jenna did as she was instructed, if only to relieve the pressure on her cranium! She licked, bit, and sucked every inch of flesh she could find, but her ineptitude was becoming more and more apparent, until finally Marianne pushed everyone away from her. She paced around the floor for a few moments until she came up with an idea. She put Jenna on all fours on the floor and had her husband start fucking her in the ass. Meanwhile she had Marcus lay down on the floor and rode him reverse cowgirl style. Every now and then she would reach down between her legs and rub Marcus' shaft. Once she was satisfied, for lack of a better term, she sat on the couch and motioned for Nathan to bring Jenna to her. Jenna walked away from Nathan and stood in front of Marianne. Marianne positioned her ass at the edge of the couch and commanded Jenna to get on her knees. Again fearful of what might happen if she refused, Jenna knelt between her de facto mistress' legs and began sucking her cunt once again. This time she used some finesse and technique, gently and lovingly tonguing Marianne into ecstasy. Poor thing, Marianne thought, she's doing so much better this time, it almost makes me feel guilty for doing this... She motioned to Marcus, who without so much as a word, crept up behind Jenna and thrust his rod, still moist with Marianne's juices, into her now wet and waiting sex!

Jenna let out a bloodcurdling scream; she felt like her very soul was being torn apart, starting from her loins! As Marcus thrust increasingly deeper into her, and her vagina got wetter and wetter, the pain gave way to an intense pleasure as the first real orgasm she had ever experienced began building up in her body. Marcus panicked as she came, trying to pull himself free but for the sheer degree of tightness, he was stuck! In fact, the harder he tried to pull free, the harder she squeezed, which was certainly not lost on Marianne. Jenna's mouth was going into overdrive, bringing Marianne to the biggest climax of her own lesbian existence!




Suburbia Ch. 03



When Jenna's tsunami of an orgasm finally subsided, Marcus cast her away almost in disgust. "Damn, she almost snapped my dick off!" he fumed as she went upstairs to gather her things. "And the worst part about it is, that's not even the real reason I'm here."

"It's not?" both Washingtons asked in unison.

"If I understand correctly Nathan, you wanted to watch me fuck your wife, right?"

"Yeah, that was the plan."

"Well, we agreed to give you one better. Why don't you slide on down here with me, Marianne?" She smiled; this evening was going exactly how she had planned it, and now she was going to experience to most forbidden taboo of all she had learned while growing up: anal sex. She situated herself on top of Marcus, and then motioned her husband to come over behind her. As he did, Marianne held her ass cheeks open for him. "Um, what are you doing that for?" Nathan asked, completely clueless.

"I want you to fuck me in the ass."

"But you used to always say-"

"Look, Nathan, there are a lot of things we both 'used to' say and do. But we can't live in the 'used to's. It's all about right here and right now. And right now I, your wife, am right here offering you, my husband, my virgin asshole. So do you want it or not?"

Nathan said nothing, just fit himself into his wife's rear end. Marianne's body shook with pleasure. Jenna had been right; Nathan couldn't do much with a pussy, but he had the perfect size ass-fucking dick. Marcus got things started, thrusting deeply upwards into Marianne's cunt. Nathan followed suit, pushing his entire length into his wife. Marianne was in heaven, and scolding herself for not allowing herself to discover the things she had learned this weekend a long time ago. Soon enough, she felt another novelty: two dicks inside her filling her with hot semen, a completely overwhelming sensation that caused both of her holes to clench shut in one massive orgasm.

The three lovers lay in a collapsed heap, and both Nathan's and Marcus' diminishing organs slipped from Marianne's body. After Marcus collected his things and left, Nathan and Marianne went to bed. Before going to sleep, Nathan fucked Marianne once in all three orifices before working out an agreement: Marianne could keep seeing Marcus, and any other women she chose. In return Nathan could keep his supply of mistresses, and Marianne's ass for himself. They went to bed that night as a couple, reborn and content.

And as he went to bed for the night, Marcus smiled. He had helped another couple overcome their marital woes, and gained not one, but two longtime friends in the process.

He truly was beginning to like Suburban life.



Suburbia Ch. 04



It has been two weeks since Marcus first moved into his and Natalie's new home.

==========

Chapter 4: Natalie

One particular morning after another night of steamy, passionate sexual liaisons, Marcus awoke to the ringing of his phone. "Hello," he answered groggily. Susan woke at the sound, making out what she could of the conversation.

"Hey sweetheart, how are you? It's... 1 AM over there, shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Silence, then "Well where are you?... no you're not, don't bullshit me... all right, put him on... is that so? I still think you're full of shit... whatever, I'm listening... NO FUCKING WAY!!!" Marcus shot out of bed, something having fully awakened him. "I'll be there to pick you up ASAP. Bye!" Marcus ordered Susan to get dressed while he hurriedly threw on some clean clothes. Susan was more than a little curious. "What's the big rush?"

"Natalie's at the airport, waiting for me to pick her up."

"Your wife Natalie?"

"Yeah! She's gonna be home for a month. C'mon, let's go! We can talk in the car!" Marcus finished getting dressed, than carried Susan downstairs and out the front door, almost knocking Marianne over just as she prepared to knock on the door! Marianne asked where they were going, but all Marcus did was pick her up and put her in the car along with Susan! Once the three were on the road, Marianne asked again what was going on. Susan explained the situation to her. "Um, Marcus, can we ask you something?" Marianne said nervously.

"Sure, go ahead," Marcus replied, keeping his focus on the highway as he sped towards Philadelphia International Airport.

"Why are you taking us to pick up your wife?"

"Well, she has said she wants to meet the two of you. I'm sorry for not saying anything, but I'm in a bit of a rush, seeing as how I haven't seen my wife in six months."

"Wait a minute, you told her about us?!" Marianne panicked.

"I tell her about all of them, just like she does. We have a... what's the word... open marriage?" Marcus chuckled.

"I'm just worried about this woman wanting to whip my ass the second she lays eyes on me."

"Don't be, she's more likely to stick her tongue down your throat."

"What?!" Now Marianne was really worried. She was still coming to grips with her own lesbian side; the thought of being anywhere near, much less spending an hour in a car with an admitted, card-carrying bisexual was almost too much for her to handle.

"Yup, she's here, plus another buddy of ours is home on convalescent leave. Got shot in the leg."

"Oh my... I hope he's all right," Susan said.

"They patched him up pretty good from what I was told."

"Oh, that's good to hear." The rest of the ride was a blur as Marcus made haste to the arrival terminal at the airport. Once parked, he grabbed a black leather vest from the trunk of the car. Susan and Marianne took a moment to admire the garment; it was covered from seam to seam with patches. "Where'd you get this from, Marcus?" they asked.

"This I had made during my tour to Korea. She knows to look for it. It should be the most recognizable garment in the place." Donning the vest, Marcus and the two ladies went inside towards the baggage claim areas. He looked around and saw a number of Soldiers in desert camouflage; he presumed they had all been on the same flight. Suddenly he heard his name cried out from off to his left. He turned towards the sound just in time to catch a shoulder to his jaw as he was tackled to the ground. He lay in a daze for a moment, but the lips searching for his brought him back around. The body on top of his pulled him to a sitting position, and he was able to make out the name "KOHLFIELD" stitched onto an Army desert camouflage uniform. He looked up for a moment into his wife's eyes; never had she seemed more beautiful than this very moment. He pulled himself up, and only then did it become apparent to Susan and Marianne just how much taller he was than she. Marcus stood about 6'2"; Natalie stood a few inches shorter than Susan, who was only 5'5" herself. She also looked strangely familiar for some reason, but neither could place it. Marcus picked his spouse up and swung her around, clearly overjoyed at her presence. He put her down and they shared another passionate kiss before Marcus finally introduced Susan and Marianne. Natalie greeted each woman with a half-hearted hug, leaving them to wonder if what Marcus had told them was really true. "Oh, and Corporal Richards is around here somewhere... I don't think he's left yet." Marcus and Cpl. Richards had been bandmates in Italy, along with two other Philadelphia natives.

"Really? I'm gonna whip that sumbitch's ass..." Marcus joked. Almost as if he had hears the sound of his own name, another young man appeared, his luggage already loaded onto a cart.

"Mark, what's going on, man?"

"Mike, good to see you. How's that leg doing?"

"I got a little bit of a limp, but the docs say that should work itself out soon enough."

"That's good... I'm gonna get the bastard who shot you, too."

"Yeah, right... you got out of the Army for a reason. Plus, I think I killed him in the firefight. Dropped a 40MM round on him."

"Damn... I was gonna get him for not finishing the job!"

Susan and Marianne were shocked at this display, not knowing what to make of it. "Anyway, let's get your bags and get to the car," Marcus suggested after exchanging phone numbers with Mike.

"Sounds good to me," responded Natalie. "'Cuz I miss that big fat dick of yours, and can't wait to get ahold of it," she hissed into her husband's ear. Marcus couldn't help but grin as he loaded a large duffel bag on each shoulder and handed Natalie her smaller bag. Once in the parking lot, Natalie tossed her boots and uniform top into the trunk with the rest of her luggage, while keeping her backpack up front with her. Marianne and Susan climbed into the back seats and Marcus took his place behind the wheel, driving back towards the highway.

As they moved through the city streets, Natalie gave the ladies in the back a more personal introduction, leaning back and French kissing them. "I'm sorry about earlier; I didn't want my superiors saying anything. You know, the whole 'don't-ask-don't-tell' thing."

Marianne was floored. "No, I'm afraid I don't."

"Quite simply, if you're in the military and you enjoy an alternate sexual lifestyle, you keep it to yourself."

"You mean if you're gay?"

"In writing, yes. But if you're anything outside of 'normal', such as a nudist, fetishist, sadist, even if you like something as mundane as getting fucked in the ass, you better keep that shit on the down low, big time."

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help notice you called getting anal sex mundane?"

"Yeah...?"

"Wow... I just let my husband do it to me for the first time a few nights ago. That shit HURT!"

"Yeah, I have to admit, the first time I and Marcus did it, I thought my head was going to explode. But, once I got used to how thick he was..." Natalie confessed as nonchalantly as she might have talked about her flight. Both women were thrown for a complete loop. Just the thought of taking Marcus' huge pecker in their back door made them wince in pain, yet here was a woman talking about not only doing it successfully, but on a regular basis! Eventually they passed through the city limits and reached the interstate. As Natalie leaned her seatback as far back Marcus grinned as he queried his friends' opinion of his wife: "So, what do you think of her so far?"

"She's... great... a really wonderful lady," they answered unable to find a better term.

"Well, from the looks of things, I doubt ya'll have seen anything yet." Natalie had fished through her backpack and pulled out a small Ziploc bag, full of shiny metal objects. "Like how clean they are? I threw them in a sterilizer before I left."

"Um, what exactly are they?" Susan asked.

"All my piercings. I hope you don't mind me putting them in now, but I need to get back to feeling like a human being right now." Nobody objected, vocally at least, so Natalie stripped off her uniform pants and her underwear and tossed them on the floor in the back. As shocked as they were at the sight of this woman, a United States Soldier no less, stripping in a moving vehicle on a public highway, they were even more shocked when she pulled a hoop out of the plastic bag and threaded it through her clitoris! The sheer visual made Susan nauseous, and Marianne clenched her own thighs in pain. After clipping the hoop shut again, Natalie pulled a pair of blue panties and a black denim skirt from her bag. Putting the garments on, she sighed in content. Marcus said, "I'm surprised your hole didn't close up."

"That one didn't, no... As much as they 'advised' against it, I had something in that one as much as possible. I'm gonna need you to repierce one of my holes, though."

Completely missing the sexual innuendo, Marianne asked Marcus if he could pierce her ears. Marcus began to respond, but Natalie answered for him: "I'm sure he could, but with the size needle he uses, he might give you brain damage." Marcus struggled to retain control of the vehicle while he laughed, and Natalie just shook her head at the ladies' naiveté. She also removed the brown t-shirt she was wearing and her sports bra, revealing a pair of tits that rivaled any woman in the neighborhood. Marianne was slowly catching on to how Natalie operated, so it was no surprise when she put a piercing through each of her swollen nipples. "Just how many piercings do you have?" she finally had the courage to ask. Natalie thought for a minute, and then ran her hands over her crotch, her chest, each ear, and her face. "Sixteen altogether." Marianne shuddered; she had been content with the openings she was born with and couldn't imagine adding another, much less sixteen. Natalie put on a sky blue tube top and went about installing the rest of her piercings: three studs in each ear, four spikes in her right eyebrow, and one each in her tongue, nose, and lower lip. She had naturally medium-brown hair, cut to just above where the collar of her jacket fell. It showed traces of being dyed black, more than likely to 'complete' her look. Sure enough, once she was fully dressed she asked Susan where she could find hair dye.

"Depends on what color you want. Blonde, red, black?"

"I was thinking more... turquoise?"

"Turquoise?"

"Yeah, to match this outfit."

"Why, where are you planning on going tonight?" asked Marcus.

"Down on you, that's all for tonight. I already told you about that. I had in mind going out for tomorrow night."

"Wow... you sure are open with your sexuality," Susan remarked.

"Like I said, I'm a nudist, a fetishist, a sadist, a voyeur, an exhibitionist, and I'm bisexual. I'm comfortable with all of that, and as callous as this may sound, if you're gonna keep sleeping with my husband, you're gonna have to be comfortable with it too, because that's gonna mean sleeping with me as well."

"Oh... so he was telling the truth about you?"

"About what, me knowing about you?" Natalie giggled. "Of course. Why would he make something like that up?"

"I guess. But I do have one question."

"What's that?"

"What's a vo... voy... that 'v' word you said you were?"

"You mean a 'voyeur?' It means I like to watch other people having sex."

"You mean you watch a lot of porn?"

Natalie laughed. "No, I mean I like watching people in the same room having sex, usually while I'm having sex with someone myself."

"Wow... but even with all that, stripping in a car? That takes some guts."

"This woman has got more balls than me, I must admit," Marcus chimed in. "She does things that even I wouldn't do."

"Hell, there's damn near nothing I can't or won't do, you know that. In fact..." Natalie claimed, looking out her window.

"Oh shit... in fact what, honey?" Marcus asked, clearly wondering what might be going through his wife's mind.

"Remember that time in Italy, when we were going down to Rome?"

"Yes, I remember."

"What do you remember about it?"

"Something you being too chickenshit to do."

"I was not!" She turned to the women in the back. "We were going to Rome for a long weekend, and while we were on the train, I was going to suck his cock. Well, just as I'm getting ready to undo his pants, another group of people came and sat in the car we were in."

"No way? You were really gonna suck him off in public like that?" Marianne asked, her voice rapt in fascination.

"No, she wasn't, but whenever she tells that story, she claims she would have. I don't think you would have done it, though," Marcus challenged. Natalie cocked her pierced eyebrow. "So you think I wouldn't do it?"

"No, you wouldn't. In fact, you wouldn't suck my dick right here, right now."

"All right, watch this." Natalie opened up Marcus's pants, but just as she prepared to pull Marcus' manhood free, Susan and Marianne vehemently objected; nothing they had experienced so far had prepared them for this. Natalie sat up and looked at the pair with intense indignation. "Let me get this straight: you two have been fucking my husband like crazy since he moved in, I haven't had his or any cock in me for six months, and you're telling me when I can and can't have what belongs to me? Fuck off!" she sneered, all the while working Marcus' straining member free from his clothing. After she had finished her little tirade, she put her mouth to more constructive use, completely enveloping Marcus down to his balls. Marcus addressed the girls: "One word of warning: don't mess with her when she's horny."

Natalie was expertly sliding her lips up and down her husband's shaft while searching through her bag for something else and eventually pulled out something that, to the relatively uninitiated women in the back, looked like something a woman had no business even knowing how to utilize! "What the hell is that thing?" Natalie answered by hiking her skirt up and pulling her panties to the side. She slid the main prong of her vibrator into her cunt, the medium-sized one into her ass, and the smallest rested comfortably against her clit. The metal piercing there could be heard vibrating against the clit teaser as she put her panties back in place over the device. She was in her own little world, sucking comfortably at Marcus' massive organ while her own sex was being driven to ecstasy by the phallic device she had lodged inside it. Susan and Marianne were awestruck; Marcus had given them both fits merely trying to take his manhood in their relatively small cunts, and here was a woman devouring it with an expertise that they would not have believed were they not witnessing it with their own eyes.

Marcus was enjoying this impromptu blow job just as much as his wife enjoyed giving it to him. He would have gladly sat there and let her suck him until they pulled into the driveway, but they were rapidly reaching the exit to Suburbia, and he communicated to his wife the need to 'wrap it up.' Natalie, however, merely glared at him as she slipped her hand down the front of his underwear. Oh shit, he thought to himself, as he knew she was about to do the one thing that he could never resist; the one technique that she always used when she wanted a mouthful of cum, and to his chagrin, it always worked. She rubbed his balls around in his sack like a pair of stress balls, causing Marcus to twitch and shake uncontrollably for a few moments before growling through clenched teeth: "Mmmph, mmmphhhhuuuuuuccccckkk... oooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhh!" Natalie struggled for a moment, but retained her composure, happily swallowing every last drop of her husband's seed. She then sat back up, revealing that not a drop had missed its intended destination: her adoring throat. She finished herself off with her device, then put it back in her bag and readjusted her clothing. Within minutes they were back at Marcus' driveway.

Natalie got out and took a good long stretch; she had been on all fours in the front seat practically the whole way home. Susan and Marianne moved towards their respective homes, asking that Marcus call them if he needed anything, an offer he politely refused. When asked why, he put his arms around his wife and replied, "Listen, I love you gals like the best of friends, but I've got all the woman I'm gonna be able to handle right here." Natalie fell into her husband's embrace, saying, "That's right, and I've got all the man I can handle too." She then pulled the girls in close to her and whispered, "All the woman I can handle is a different story, though... I'll be in touch." She kissed the ladies once more before helping Marcus bring her bags into the house. As they watched the couple close the door behind them, Susan and Marianne marveled, "That is a strange woman right there."

If only they knew...



Suburbia Ch. 05



Chapter 5 begins immediately after Chapter 4.

========== Chapter 5: Meredith and Mena

Marcus and Natalie dropped her bags to the side of the front door and immediately shared another passionate embrace. "It is so good to have you home, baby," Marcus said.

"I've missed you more than you can imagine," Natalie replied. "So why don't you go wait for me in the bedroom while I go take a shower?" she requested in a lower, more seductive tone.

"I'll do that," Marcus consented. Natalie retrieved her personal hygiene items from one of her bags and headed upstairs to the bathroom, with Marcus behind her, tromping up with her luggage in tow. Natalie stripped down and climbed into the shower, turning the water on to a comfortable temperature. She sat on the floor and let the calming jets of water flow over her skin, her body wracked from the eight-hour flight. She ran her hands over her face and was shocked at all the piercings she had installed. With feverish speed she removed all sixteen of the small metal objects from her body and untied her hair, letting it fall all the way down to the shower floor. Ahh, that feels much better, she glowed. She felt like a different person, because she was in fact a different person. She had given Marcus some time with his slut on the way home; his wife needed some attention now.

Meanwhile, Marcus quickly fixed up the bedroom, making the bed and trying to remove any evidence that another woman had been there just three hours before. Not that she would have cared, but she deserved to be able to focus on him without thinking about another woman's presence in their bed. Of course, Natalie could care less, and Mena slightly more, but Meredith was the object of his attention right now, and he wanted to see her more than anybody. His desires were confirmed when he saw her standing in the doorframe, a robe wrapped around her piercing-free body and her hair hanging freely down to her waist.

"Meredith," he called out to his wife with extended arms, "you have no idea how much I have missed you..."

"I've missed you too, we all have," Meredith replied, wrapping herself in her husband's loving arms. "Well, except for that bitch Sergeant Kohlfield..."

"Who is folded up neatly in the bottom of a duffel bag, and I intend on leaving her there," Marcus retorted, addressing his wife's military persona. He had known about his wife's multiple identities since he had met her; hell, he had stuck by her when the military wanted to diagnose her as schizophrenic. Regardless of what mindset she might be in, it was never as extreme as some cases of MPD, where a separate personality does or says something that the 'main' person would not or could not remember later on. Meredith was merely able to adjust her mindset to the situation she was in: there was SSgt. Kohlfield, her hard-nosed, no-nonsense work mentality; Meredith was the woman Marcus had married: the devoted, faithful wife who always made love to her husband; Natalie was the slut inside her, willing to fuck anybody that Marcus would allow her to, male or female. Mena was kind of a middle ground, the best-friend mentality. When she and Marcus had sex, it was always hot and passionate, yet never as tame as Meredith's lovemaking nor as extreme as Natalie's whorish tendencies. They were as different outside of the bedroom as they were in it: quiet and reserved Meredith, loud, boisterous and stubborn Natalie, and the opinionated yet diplomatic Mena. Marcus knew well the traumas that had led to Meredith developing so many alternate personalities, but none of it mattered to him; besides, he liked having a woman he could relate with sexually, intellectually and emotionally without having to do all three at the same time. 

Marcus gently kissed Meredith on her forehead as he guided her to the edge of the bed. Sitting down, he peeled the robe from his wife's body, revealing the ravishing body he so sorely missed lavishing his attentions on. His hands found their way to her shapely hips, and with almost a trembling touch he traced his fingers across her flesh, from her freshly shaven pubic area, to her taut, muscular abs, down her toned legs to her petite feet. On his way back up he tickled her behind the knees, which elicited a half moan, half giggle from Meredith. "Dammit, I was hoping you'd forgotten about that," she fumed.

"C'mon now, you know me better than that," Marcus said as he examined her smooth, tanned skin. "You sure got darker over there, didn't you?"

"Well, what do you expect from being out in the sun for sixteen hours a day?"

"True, but you don't have any tan lines... how'd you pull that one off?"

"Hmm... I'll let Natalie or Mena tell you about that later on. Right now, you belong to me, understood?"

"Fair enough," Marcus responded, his hands continuing their travels. He cupped her large, soft breasts and pulled one into his mouth. Meredith hissed through her clenched teeth at the sensations Marcus caused as he flicked his tongue rapidly across her nipple. She was getting extremely excited, and was having trouble keeping her feet underneath her. She pulled away from Marcus; she had to or otherwise she risked switching into another mindset, which was not what either of them wanted right now. She guided Marcus to a seated position on the bed, with his back against the headboard. Once she had him properly positioned, she sat in his lap facing him and slowly worked his sex into hers. As Marcus held her, he could feel tension throughout her entire body, and with good reason: she was tighter than Marcus had ever known her to be. Once she was comfortably mounted, however, she literally melted her body into his, clutching him to her as if it were the last time they would ever see each other. Marcus wrapped his arms around his wife and began to run his fingers through her hair. He started to slowly elevate his hips, but Meredith stopped him. "Please, don't move... just hold me. I just need to be held right now..." she whispered, a hidden tear finally falling from her jaw onto Marcus' chest. Marcus just pulled her even tighter into him, causing Meredith to put her arms around his neck and literally break down in tears. "I love you, dammit Marcus," she whimpered, "I love you more than anything else in the world. I just want us to be together. Is that too much to ask? To be together with my husband?"

"I understand how you feel, believe me. This hasn't been easy for me either. At least there you've got your friends and co-workers... I'm kind of floating by myself here."

"I don't want to go back over there, Marcus. Please, don't-"

"Now don't get to talking that nonsense. You're stronger than that; besides, two more months and you get to go back to Italy, do your clearing, and you're home again. For good, this time." Marcus sighed; he hated the idea of separating from her again, even if for such a relatively short time. "We've done eight months till now; let's enjoy this next month together, and do what we have to do from there."

Meredith sniffled and asked for a tissue. "You're right... let's just make the most of the time we do have together," she consented, guiding his face to hers by the ears and planting him with a long, slow, sensuous kiss. Marcus slid down the bed onto his back and pulled the covers over them. Husband and wife lay silently still, soaking in each other's presence.

Marcus awoke, feeling his wife's body upright on top of his. He could tell immediately that he was still inside her, feeling her wet warmth surrounding his manhood. He looked towards the window; the light from the sun was nowhere to be seen. "I guess we fell asleep," Meredith said, shaking her hair out. Marcus looked at the clock; it was 9:46 PM. He remembered getting back to the house around 2:30 that afternoon, so he discounted her shower and their lovemaking and guessed that they had been sleeping since at least 4. He looked up at his wife, whose face was now hovering over his with a playful look in her eye. "Let's play a little game, shall we?" she said slyly, grinding against his groin and feeling his cock throb inside of her. 

"First off, I want to know how you got such a dark tan."

"Oh god..." Meredith groaned. "That was a deal with the devil. Another female and Natalie convinced a group of about seven male Soldiers to pull perimeter guard for us for an hour every day while we sunbathed naked."

"And dare I ask how you pulled that off?"

Meredith winced. "We blew them afterwards."

"Damn, woman! How often did this happen?"

"Every day... I told you was gonna come back with a tan; I had to do it somehow."

"I'm not worried about what you did; you know how to cover your own ass. Did you ever get sick at all?"

"No, I never swallowed. I don't know about the other girl, but I told them from the beginning, I'd suck them to completion, but I wouldn't swallow. They weren't complaining; at least they were getting some."

"Oh, all right then. Did you ever fuck any of them?"

"Nah, none of them were really that fuckable, and they all had average sized cocks, to be nice about it. I gave them head every night and sent them on their way."

"Cool, cool... now, what game did you have in mind?"

"Let's play sexual torture; what do you think the prize for the winner should be?"

Marcus groaned; despite his barely-above-even win-loss record he loved this game, but having not had sex with her in so long might put him at a disadvantage. The rules of sexual torture were as follows: Whoever went first (usually her) had to make the other climax, while the person being pushed to orgasm was not allowed to move at all. Then they switched roles and whoever came in the shortest amount of time lost. "Mena, you sure you want to play tonight?"

"What, are you afraid to lose?"

Dammit, he though. He hated when she called his competitive nature out on the carpet. "Oh all right, I'll play... if I win, you have to cook tonight, and if you win, I'll take you out to eat."

"Agreed. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready. Do your worst." He started the stopwatch in his wristwatch and with that, Mena was off, gliding up and down on Marcus' shaft. Marcus did his best to keep still; no other woman he had ever had sex with (or would ever have sex with in the future) could hold a candle to his wife; they were both masters of sexual technique, each complementing each other's knowledge. She tortured him every way she could think of; rubbing his chest, sucking his nipples, whipping him with her hair, even scratching him ever so lightly behind the ears (the last two moves being two of his biggest known weak points). Still, although the look of sheer ecstasy on his face might not have said the same thing, Marcus would not allow himself to climax. "Hmm... you're doing good," Mena noted, "but let's see how you handle this." She began to ride him harder now, her tits bouncing up and down before Marcus' eyes. His mouth was watering; he wanted nothing more than to suck on her nips until she came, but he would have to wait his turn.

Mena looked at Marcus' watch and saw that seven minutes and 27 seconds had passed. She was pleased that he had held out for so long, but it was time to crush his resolve. She turned to face away from him and lay flat on her stomach. She spread her legs as far as she was able, leaving Marcus of a clear view of her ass and pussy, which she was expertly working his boner in and out of. Marcus swore to himself in three different languages. His wife had the perfect ass, and any sight of it was enough to make him cream his pants. He struggled to retain control, and was successful for several minutes before he unleashed his torrent into his wife's body. He called for the time once his breath had returned to him. She reached around and read the clock: "11 minutes, 9 seconds. Good job," she said with a wink. "Now it's your turn... how do you want me?"

"Spread-eagle... you called me out, now it's time for you to pay," he answered with a devilish grin.

"Ooh papi, make it hurt so good," she hissed as she assumed the requested position. "Ready?" she asked as she took the stopwatch.

Marcus licked his lips. "I'm ready when you are."

Holy fuck... Mena thought; she knew exactly was he was about to do. She hit the start button and said, "Go!" With the motion, precision and sensitivity of a drill bit, Marcus aimed the tip of his tongue directly at his wife's clit. Her eyes almost popped out of her skull; nothing made her climax so hard it literally hurt, than a hard tonguing at her most sensitive spot. Every other part of her body was seemingly numb; all she could feel was the slightest amount of his flesh assaulting her to the point where she would give anything to make it stop, and twice as much to make it continue. She came rapidly and violently, her entire body lifting up off the bed, with Marcus extending his relentlessness until she dropped back down to the mattress.

Marcus stood up and observed Mena. She was breathing heavily, her eyes were watery and welded open. She slowly released her grip on the bedspread, and there were some small tears from where her nails had dug so deeply into it. Her rigid body began to relax as the orgasmic cacophony inside her own mind ebbed, and the first words out of her mouth when she finally did speak were, "Have I... told... you lately... how much..." Suddenly she sat up and threw a pillow at Marcus before completing her thought: "of an asshole you are?!"

Marcus couldn't help but laugh. "I may be an asshole, but I'm a victorious asshole."

"Dammit..." Mena sighed as she got back on her feet. She couldn't believe he was actually going to make her cook tonight, but she had made the bet, and summarily lost. "So, what do you want for dinner?" she asked as she put her robe on.

"You can't be serious... did you really think I was gonna hold you to that? Get some clothes on; we're going out."

"What? Then why'd you make that bet?"

Marcus sighed annoyingly. "Does it really matter, woman? Get dressed!"

"Aww... you really are the world's greatest husband," Mena said, throwing her arms around him and giving him a peck on the forehead.

"I thought I was an asshole," Marcus retorted.

"Oh, you are, but you're my asshole," Mena said sweetly as she dug into her closet. She chose one of her more 'housewife'-ish outfits and, for a contrast in styles, threw a leather vest of Marcus' on over her shirt.

"Did I give you permission to wear that?" Marcus asked her when she came downstairs.

"You didn't have to; I took it," she replied sarcastically.

"Oooh... your ass belongs to me when we get home."

"Well what about the rest of me?"

"I got that on lock too."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Mena egged him on. Marcus merely sighed. He did indeed have something special in mind for her once they got home. Hopefully she wouldn't be expecting it, although she knew full well what her usual punishment was for such insolence. 

Marcus drove through the Philadelphia streets and parked in an underground garage in Center City. There was a park nearby with a fountain in it, perfect for a romantic walk and necessary in the first part of his 'revenge.' One of their favorite restaurants was nearby, which was Marcus' intended destination. Once inside and seated, Mena noted something: "Remember our very first date here?"

Marcus smiled. "Yeah, I do. It was when we were on leave right before Iraq, and you came home with me to meet my family."

Mena laughed. "Your aunt had tried to cook something, but she end up leaving it in the oven too long-"

"Oh god," Marcus choked out in the midst of a laugh. "It was so overcooked it was disgusting, whatever it was."

"Then you mentioned this place-"

"And we came and ate dinner here."

"And what else?"

Marcus rubbed the wedding band on his left hand. "I asked you to marry me."

"And here we are, almost three years later."

"I know... I can't believe our third anniversary is only three months away."

"It's the deployments... they make the time fly by."

"This is true enough... but soon enough, they'll all be over. In fact, you'll be out for our anniversary, won't you?"

Mena looked at a calendar in her cell phone. She would indeed be out of the military by the time the date in question arrived.

"I guess I should... wait a minute, is that who I think it is?" Marcus asked, looking toward the door over his wife's shoulder.

"Who's who?" She turned around as well, and recognized another bandmate of Marcus': Dorian Jackson, traveling with a sizeable group. "Hey, DJ!" Mena called out. The young man who her attention was fixed on looked around bewildered for a moment until he saw Mena and Marcus sitting together. He excused himself from his group and sprinted over to their table, careful to duck and dodge any traffic on the floor. "Marcus, what is up, man?" he exclaimed, hugging his buddy.

"I've been doing good... living in Suburbia now. We own a house out there."

"Ah, out in the 'burbs, huh? I ain't mad atcha." He turned to Mena. "And how have you been, Sergeant K? Still holding it down in the sandbox?"

"Yes, but don't call me that; I'm on leave now, you can call me by my first name."

Dorian chuckled. "Well then, Meredith, Marcus, I'll be seeing y'all around, I hope?"

"Of course. You should come by the house one day before I have to go back," Mena invited. "In fact, have you heard from Vega since he got out?" she asked. Astacio Vega rounded out their band.

"Actually, I have. He's working for a biomed firm here in the city. I've got his phone number if you want it."

"Yeah, let me get it; I doubt he'll mind," Marcus responded, asking for DJ's as well. They exchanged numbers and hugs, after which Dorian returned to his group. The couple finished their meal and paid their bill, giving Dorian one final salutation before leaving. They walked back through the park and sat on the edge of the fountain. Mena snuggled close to Marcus. "It's such a beautiful night out," she purred.

Marcus agreed. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and there was a calm breeze blowing. Marcus put his arms around Mena, who still didn't suspect anything was amiss. She was enamored with the romantic setting, which was abruptly changed when he dumped her in the fountain! She surfaced screaming and swearing at the top of her lungs, while Marcus merely laughed triumphantly. "I told you your ass was mine; now let's go home before you get sick."

The entire drive home, Mena refused to say a word to Marcus. When they got home, she immediately exited the car and stormed up onto the porch, waiting for Marcus to come and unlock the door. She heard his footsteps end right before he should have come up the steps.

Oh shit, she thought, my jeans are still wet...

Suddenly a gunshot echoed throughout the block. Mena stood on the tips of her toes, cringing in pain. Marcus smirked as he unlocked the door and walked through it. Mena tiptoed through, her posterior in too much pain to do otherwise. Once she was inside and the door was shut and locked, all that could be heard was Mena yelling, "You SON OF A BITCH!!!" Marcus was already upstairs. "Once again, I told you your ass was mine!" he called out before shutting and locking a door. Mena peeled her wet clothes off and left them in the laundry room. She went into the bathroom and examined herself. The whole of her left asscheek was red with Marcus' handprint. That was her standard punishment when she sassed Marcus: a firm swat across the rear. And by god, could he smack asses. He smacked harder than anyone she had ever met. And Natalie liked being spanked during sex, and spanked hard, so she'd met her fair share of ass-slappers; none of them could hold a candle to her husband, though.

Mena rubbed her hand across her now swollen ass. The pain was gone; whenever she touched herself, she felt the power and the dominance of her hubby that had wrapped her around his finger so long ago. She ran her fingertips along the edges of Marcus' handprint and felt her sex get moist. Without thinking, she smacked herself in the same area Marcus had. The resulting sting caused her pussy to get even wetter. Now she was extremely horny and started playing with her clit in an attempt to satisfy herself, not wanting to give Marcus the satisfaction of having sex with her after what he'd just done. As good as that felt, the churning in her pussy could not be quelled. She searched through a small plastic chest that contained some of her sex toys (the ones she used when Marcus was unavailable for whatever reason) and pulled out the largest, blackest dildo she owned. She inserted its full 12 inches into her snatch and began furiously fucking herself, but the more pleasure she got, the more pain she felt. She didn't want to admit it, but as mad as she was at her husband, nothing could satisfy her now except his fat dick in any hole she could get it into. She put her toy away, weeping slightly. Her pride would not let her give in, but her body would not let her carry on any longer. She tried to steel her resolve, but then her eyes fell on the soap dish that held all her piercings and her head sank.




Suburbia Ch. 05



She picked her clit ring out of the tray. "All right, you win..." she seethed.

Eventually Natalie emerged from the bathroom, nipple and clit rings in place. Marcus had unleashed the whore in her, and she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.