Marc's Tale

Marcï¿½s Tale

By Staine

Just a couple of notes: Iï¿½ve got this irritating habit of calling my main characterï¿½s ï¿½Marcï¿½. Basically, when I start throwing ideas together and decide the main characterï¿½s going to be a smart-arsed little deviant, (or any of my other character traits) I call him Marc. That said, this isnï¿½t the same ï¿½Marcï¿½ as found in that ï¿½beerï¿½ story. Iï¿½ve thought about just doing an ï¿½edit, replaceï¿½ on the names but for some weird reason it doesnï¿½t feel right.

Still on worthless trivia, the setting for this story, Turnam City, is a fictional place a mate of mine knocked up a while back for his own stuff. ï¿½Marcï¿½s Taleï¿½ started out as a sub-plot to his ï¿½Remedial Englishï¿½ series and then strangely took on its own life from there. As I was always working with his characters (ï¿½Marcï¿½ of course was mine, but the rest were his) and his rules, a lot of small details didnï¿½t get explained in Marcï¿½s Tale because this series was always intended to be stuck up next to his. Now as it obviously isnï¿½t stuck up next to ï¿½Remedial Englishï¿½, Iï¿½ve tried to shove a bit more information into this to make the whole thing more understandable but I canï¿½t help feel the rewrite was only partially successful.

Act I

Heï¿½d been the armchair occultist for several years.

The main reason why Marc wasnï¿½t a practitioner of the occult wasnï¿½t because he couldnï¿½t, but more because he wouldnï¿½t. The shield of social indifference heï¿½d been using for as long as he could remember had started to sink in. There really wasnï¿½t anything he wanted or cared about in life that required magick and the only thing that really interested him, (and that be sex) used rituals that seemed so absurd that he rather go without the sex than stand in a garden naked under a full moon and rub cinnamon and scented rose petals on himself. The invocation option wasnï¿½t even worth considering.

He wasnï¿½t a virgin, thereï¿½d been girlfriends in the past whoï¿½d let him go all the way. The trouble was that most of themï¿½ why mince words, all of them, had been vacuous, vacant, and all together stupid airheads and had been exceedingly annoying to be around. He wasnï¿½t after love either. Reason being, he didnï¿½t believe it existed. No, the sex was what he wanted. No love, no commitment, no lies or long periods of sucking up, just good, plain, old-fashioned fluid transfers.

It must have been in Math - the dullest class of the day. Allen was absent from class for some reason, and Alec was apparently not in the mood for conversation. Marc knew better than to push his dark haired semi-satanic mate when he was in one of those strange sullen moods and was content to sit in silence.

He was staring at Allisonï¿½s back. Letting his mind go blank, his self-imposed standard practise for concentration, he set about focusing his attention on Allison filling her very essence with his most carnal desires. It had never worked in the past, possibly because he usually lost interest fairly quickly, but this time something was different. He was so intent on this that he failed to notice the colour slowly draining from the edges of his vision.

Colours, details, and eventually shapes altogether. A grey nothingness slowly enveloped his vision, from the very outskirts of his periphery to the centre. Eventually, he reached a point further than heï¿½d ever ventured before and became aware of a dull throbbing sound. The rhythmic thumping was beginning to get on his nerves so he blocked it out, simply concentrating on annihilating that infernal thudding. Soon it was little more than a distant memory. With the absence of sound, he felt a sense of sheer isolation that unnerved him for a moment. All he could see now was a never-ending grey void and a wonderful echoing silence. He couldnï¿½t feel his body, he couldnï¿½t move, he was merely suspended in the void.

So this is what non-existence is likeï¿½ He thought but instantly corrected himself. He was not non-existent, he could still think. Thatï¿½s about all I can do, he winced feeling the first traces of fear. Marc wasnï¿½t even sure if he was seeing anything at all. The greyness seemed absolute. No beginning, no ending and yet no perception of depth. It could have been flat image he was looking at or it could have gone on forever. He had no means of knowing which it was.

Then in his peripheral vision, he made out movement. It gradually materialised as a pure white light, so bright that he could barely look directly into it. By running his eyes over the light repeatedly from left to right and back again, he was able to make out the form of a woman. She was the most beautiful thing he could ever imagine. There was no doubt in his mind that she was beautiful even though he couldnï¿½t actually make out the details of her face. Marc knew heï¿½d be able to recognise her immediately if he ever saw her again, he just didnï¿½t actually know what she looked like. Beauty was obvious, but details escaped him the moment his eyes left her, which was often, so intense was the glare. A strange calmness enveloped him and he felt slightly light-headed.

He knew at once that she was a Goddess, he just had no idea of which. A portion of his consciousness knew that he knew of her but that part of the brain stubbornly refused to provide a name to fit the image before him. She wore a strange expression on her absolutely perfect face. He had no idea of how he knew what expression she had considering the fact that he couldnï¿½t actually look directly at her. It was just something he could feel and know without actually having to see.

ï¿½Do you want this so much that you would stem the flow of your life essence to possess it?ï¿½ She asked, her voice soothingly musical.

He couldnï¿½t be sure that her lips even moved, but it was of no importance. Her voice was soft, comforting, and he knew in his heart that she meant him no harm. How could something so perfect, so pure, have a shred of evil intent?

ï¿½My life essence?ï¿½ He asked uncomprehendingly.

The Goddess nodded without seeming to move at all. ï¿½Yes. The throbbing, the pounding that you shut off in annoyance was the beating of your heart.ï¿½

ï¿½Does that mean Iï¿½m dead?ï¿½ Marc felt no pain, no fear, not even a sense of loss. In the presence of a being so perfect, death held no meaning. What was life compared to such bliss?

ï¿½Deadï¿½ no. You are currently in what we call the void. It is a segment of space between what your kind call life and death. It is the place between. It is a bridge but at the same time it is nothing.ï¿½

ï¿½But isnï¿½t that a contradiction?ï¿½

ï¿½To you perhaps, but the rules of your world do not apply here.ï¿½

ï¿½So what happens now?ï¿½ Marc asked.

ï¿½Do you want to return to life?ï¿½

ï¿½Why?ï¿½ The question was blunt. Marc saw no reason not to learn about his alternatives. He was already here so as far as he could see, there was no reason not to go further.

ï¿½Would you prefer to die?ï¿½

ï¿½I donï¿½t know. What happens if I choose to die?ï¿½

ï¿½Your soul is taken to a place where its future is decided upon.ï¿½

ï¿½Decided by who?ï¿½

ï¿½It is not my place to say.ï¿½

ï¿½Why?ï¿½

ï¿½Because that is how it is done, how it was always done, how it will always be done.ï¿½ She didnï¿½t seem in the slightest way annoyed at his incessant questioning. The Goddess spoke with the patience one affords when explaining a concept to a small child, her perpetual smile holding him in incomparable rapture.

ï¿½So what do I do now?ï¿½

ï¿½Do you want this so much that you would end your life in the hope that you could get it?ï¿½

ï¿½I donï¿½t see why notï¿½ï¿½

She didnï¿½t answer him but her hand reached out to him. He remained immobile as her fingers touched his forehead. Marc found himself filled with a glorious warmth the likes of which heï¿½d never felt before. It was as if a part of her were flowing into him. Had he been allowed to, he would have been moved into joyous tears at the profound rightness of the feeling. Time and space seemed to come to a standstill. The next thing he was aware of was being jerked backward into total darkness like he was being sucked through a black hole. He was travelling without actually moving. Marc gasped loudly and blinked.

He was back in math class, Dougie opened his mouth to say something smart but Marc cut him off with a glare. He wasnï¿½t about to cop shit from that brain-dead spastic.

The class finished in a blur. Marc barely heard the bell ring to signify the end of the school day. He walked out of the school gates in a daze. Alec caught up with him on the way home but they barely spoke a word on the five-minute walk. Marc opened his front door, made straight to his bedroom and collapsed on his bunk.

ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½

The irritating buzz of his alarm clock was the next thing he was aware of. Marc instinctively reached over to turn it off and glanced out the window. The sun was already out. The events from the day before came back to him instantly. He stared at the clock in disbelief. If the LCD display was to be believed, it was 7am.

ï¿½Nineteen hours? Iï¿½ve been asleep for nineteen bloody hours?ï¿½

He shook his head to clear it and made straight for the bathroom. Splashing water on his face, he glanced up at his reflection in the mirror. He didnï¿½t look any different: same pale, almost translucent skin, nondescript nose and in contrast to the rest of his features, dark somewhat slanted almond shaped eyes that betrayed the Asian blood in his heritage. He ran his fingers through his tousled blonde hair and mussed it up further. Hardly a romance book cover model but not bad looking either.

Stripping down quickly, he grabbed his toothbrush, applied a dollop of toothpaste, and hopped into the shower. Ten minutes later found him towelling off and then forcing himself into school uniform, a white long- sleeved shirt, dark grey trousers and a royal blue tie with thin diagonal yellow strips across it. Not, he signed, the best colour combination on the planet but not the worst thing out there either. At least they allowed him to wear Docs to school. Grabbing his satchel, he strode out of his front door busy rolling his shirt-sleeves up to the elbow.

He met Alec a block later and the taller dark haired boy fell in next to Marc with little more than a nod of greeting. Alec wasnï¿½t much of a talker and was usually content to mutter a few comments and let Marc talk for both of them but today neither seemed to have any want for inane conversation. Alec, apparently labouring under some unspoken burden, looked at Marc several times as if he were going to say something but stopped himself each time. They split up as they entered the school gates and went their separate classes.

Marcï¿½s first class was Physics and he found it hard to concentrate. Not that he usually paid any attention at all in class because Allen was usually going on about who heï¿½d like to bone, but this time he found he couldnï¿½t even be bothered listening to Allen. His eyes were almost always wandering over the group of girls in the row ahead.

Allison, he ignored. Not that she wasnï¿½t attractive, on the contrary, her chocolate brown eyes, creamy skin and long chestnut curls made her the type of girl that any heterosexual male would love to have their arm around, not to mention a key portion of their anatomy in. The reason why he ignored her was because the idiot next to him who was currently going on about Alyssa Milanoï¿½s tits in some skin flick theyï¿½d watched the other day, had a raging hard-on for her. If there was one thing he wasnï¿½t, it was a cunt, an asshole maybe, but only a cunt would go after a girl that his mate had a thing for.

Although Allison was out of the running, there were still other females. He began going through them. Lynn was absolutely out of the question. The bitch was a dog with a personality to match. Rebecca, hmmm, NO! Andrea was a definite possibility, Kylie was cute, Tracey? Yes Tracey would be the one.

He wasnï¿½t really sure why heï¿½d picked Tracey. While she was pretty, she didnï¿½t really compete with Allison in terms of sheer beauty and her figure was fine, if not truly breathtaking. Allen had mentioned something about her neck once in passing. Marc paid close attention to the neck in question.

As far as necks go, she does have an attractive neckï¿½ Marc thought but that still didnï¿½t seem like reason enough to choose her. Her personality perhaps? Tracey was part of what theyï¿½d termed the annoying element but she was annoying in a cute impish sorta way. She did have an absolutely adorable smile that she used constantly when she wanted to get something, and a lovely tan from spending a lot of her spare time at a surf club. He wasnï¿½t sure if it was the sum of all her assets that led him to his choice or whether there was a particularly outstanding feature about her. Whatever it was, heï¿½d made up his mind. It was going to be Tracey.

He still remembered vague flashes of his ï¿½out of bodyï¿½ experience yesterday. While he knew that the Goddess had given him something, he didnï¿½t know how to use it or even what it was. There was only one thing to do. Clearing his mind of any distractions, he began concentrating now on Tracey.

The greyness enveloped him just as it had yesterday. This time however, his fear struck him almost immediately. He could hear his heart beating in the background. What if he didnï¿½t come back? What if he got stuck in that grey void?

Fuck it!

He shut off his heart.

Marc was only mildly surprised at how easy the choice was considering the risks of what he was doing. The scene from yesterday played itself out. The Goddess returned to him. She seemed even more beautiful then before. The fear left as he felt her presence wrap itself around him, comforting him. He knew heï¿½d done the right thing in returning to her. In her presence, life seemed like nothing more than a waste of time.

ï¿½Why have you returned?ï¿½ She asked. There was a hint of worry on her absolutely perfect face that disturbed him.

ï¿½Because I don't understand what happened yesterday.ï¿½

ï¿½What don't you understand?ï¿½

ï¿½I felt you'd given me something, I just don't know what it is or how to use it.ï¿½

ï¿½Its all in your mindï¿½ï¿½ She laughed releasing him. He was hurled backward again.

ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½

ï¿½Oh for fuckï¿½s sake dude!ï¿½ Allen was glaring at him. ï¿½Try breathing oxygen sometimes.ï¿½

Marc inhaled loudly and gave Allen the finger. All in the mind? What was all in the mind? He was suddenly furious. What sort of stupid answer was that? What the fuck was he supposed to find in his mind? Heï¿½d risked killing himself or worse, the least he could have got was a decent answer!

Slowly he forced himself to calm down. The vision of the Goddess was still in his mind, her face burned into memory. There was no trickery there, she had not deceived him. He started going through all the little details he could remember of the conversation heï¿½d had with her. Fortunately, there wasnï¿½t all that much to go through. Sheï¿½d seemed surprised to see him again, that much was obvious, her answer to his questions about his gift still puzzled him: Itï¿½s all in your mind.

She had laughed when sheï¿½d said that but the laugh wasnï¿½t to mock him. It was like the answer was so obvious, she was amazed that he still didnï¿½t understand. The sort of laugh one might give to a silly child who kept trying to stick the triangle into the square-shaped hole.

Then a new thought materialised. Instead of the tangible gift that he was expecting, what if sheï¿½d simply given him the capacity to make it all happen. His brain started working overtime dredging up all he knew about telepathy and hypnosis.

NO!

That couldnï¿½t have been what he was given. The first time heï¿½d off'ed himself he was thinking about Allison and what heï¿½d wanted to do with her. His thoughts were focused solely on sex. There wasnï¿½t anything about reading or manipulating minds. All he had wanted was the sex and that was logically all he would have been given.

Now how do I go about getting some? He mused. Well why not just set up a scenario in his mind and see if it played itself out? The was still about ten minutes left of the physics class left and since Chalmes had long since given up asking him to actively participate in the lesson, he began making up his scenario.

ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½

ï¿½Fucking hell! Look at this shit!ï¿½ Allen grumbled, peering into his bag of chips, ï¿½I asked for sauce, not bloody gravy!ï¿½ Alec snorted a snide reply while Marc ignored them both. He was waiting to see if his little game was going to play itself out. Sure enough, Tracey walked up to their table blushing slightly.

ï¿½Ummm, Marc, I was ah, wondering if youï¿½d seen Notting Hill?ï¿½

ï¿½Nope.ï¿½ He shrugged indifferently. The Hugh Grant movie was hardly one of the top ten things he had any plans to see any time ever. Under normal circumstances, it would be there right next to castrating himself with a hacksaw and joining a Buddhist monastery in the Himalayas.

ï¿½Well I was gonna go down to the mall to see it tonight. You wanna come?ï¿½ She smiled at him hopefully.

ï¿½Tonight?ï¿½ Marc raised a questioning eyebrow while grinning inwardly. The fucking plan was working! He couldnï¿½t believe it! It was actually working! But there was one more test to ensure that the whole thing wasnï¿½t a coincidence.

ï¿½Yeah, thereï¿½s a BCC screening at eight thirty.ï¿½ Tracey continued oblivious to the thoughts flashing through his head.

ï¿½Sure, whaddayaï¿½ want me to wear?ï¿½

ï¿½Just what you usually wear, silly.ï¿½ She grinned before her hazel eyes narrowed in confusion. ï¿½Well if itï¿½s not any trouble, I kinda like that Manson T-Shirt. You know the black one with the cover forï¿½ï¿½ she stopped, looking even more confused as the knowledge seemed to come to her from out of nowhere, ï¿½for Antichrist Superstar.ï¿½

ï¿½Okay, sure, so Iï¿½ll see you at the train station at, say ï¿½bout nine?ï¿½

ï¿½Cool!ï¿½ She flashed him another one of those cute smiles and walked away.

Marc was ecstatic. The Marilyn Manson T-Shirt was the little test that heï¿½d stuck into his scenario to prove that it was working. He and Tracey werenï¿½t exactly the closest of mates but he knew for a fact that she hated Manson with a passion. The only way that sheï¿½d want him to wear a T-shirt with a corpse-like face on it was because that was the way he wrote the script. It was that easy! All he had to do was decide what was going to happen and it happened. It was basically like having idle daydreams that came true.

Of course he had no idea of the full scope of what the Goddessï¿½s gift was, but there would be time later to work through all the niggly little details. He blinked and tried to imagine he and Tracey had been liberally dating each other for a while and left things there. That should be enough to ensure he got lucky. The last thing he wanted was to make things too complicated and risk having them blow up in his face because of some loophole heï¿½d not made allowances for. Yes, the niggly little details could wait, tonight he was going to have some fun.

ï¿½Hey am I missing something?ï¿½ Allen asked looking at Traceyï¿½s swaying behind and then at Marc in amazement. ï¿½What the hell just happened here?ï¿½

ï¿½I guess the ladies just canï¿½t resist me.ï¿½ Marc laughed.

ï¿½Rightï¿½ well, I guess itï¿½s a step up from the sheep, huh?ï¿½ Allenï¿½s sarcasm wasnï¿½t lost on anyone.

Alec was staring at Marc. There was a strange almost bemused look in his green eyes. Allen was still watching Tracey walk away, shaking his head in disbelief.

ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½

ï¿½That was the most pathetic movie Iï¿½ve ever seen.ï¿½ Marc remarked coldly as they walked out of the cinema. Tracey was wearing his jacket and had wrapped herself snugly on his arm. He enjoyed the feeling of her breasts against him. Actually, he really had no idea about what the movie was like. He really hadnï¿½t paid much attention to it at all and neither had she for that matter. They had spent the two hours in the darkened theatre trading saliva like a pair of ardent lovebirds.

ï¿½The company was amazing though.ï¿½ He smiled at her fondly. She giggled and drew his face down to hers.

ï¿½Hmmm, quarter pounder, M&Mï¿½s and popcorn.ï¿½ He teased after he managed to tear his lips away from hers. She made a face and punched him playfully.

ï¿½I canï¿½t believe they hit me for ID,ï¿½ Tracey complained putting on a little girlï¿½s voice. ï¿½Iï¿½m sixteen now!ï¿½ She looked up at him again. ï¿½Do YOU think I look mature?ï¿½

ï¿½Well, maybe if you grew a beard youï¿½d look older,ï¿½ he joked. She hit him again, a grin on her face.

ï¿½So what now?ï¿½ She asked, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes and grinning impishly.

Marc made a show of looking at his watch and scratching his chin apparently deep in deliberation. ï¿½Well, its 10:34, my place or yours?ï¿½

ï¿½Depends on whoï¿½s at your placeï¿½ï¿½

ï¿½Me mumï¿½s off at her boyfriends place and my sisterï¿½s gone with her so Iï¿½ve got the house to myself. How about yours?ï¿½

ï¿½Mumï¿½s home, dadï¿½s home, and so is Dennis.ï¿½

ï¿½Whoï¿½s Dennis?ï¿½

ï¿½My annoying little rat of a brother.ï¿½

ï¿½My place it is then!ï¿½ Marc declared. They stopped briefly at a phone box so Tracey could ring her folks to tell them that she would be spending the night at Allisonï¿½s.

ï¿½So Trace, what are we doing, when we get to my placeï¿½?ï¿½ Marc asked with a rather devious grin.

Tracey narrowed her eyes, a slight smile curving the corners of her mouth.

ï¿½You know damn well what weï¿½re going to be doing.ï¿½ She replied evenly.

ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½ ï¿½

Marc leaned on the wall behind his bed and watched Tracey bend herself over at the waist, her eyes firmly locked onto his as she drew her skirt down over her knees. Of course she had no idea how to perform a good striptease, but he did. And since she was only performing the role he wanted, he really could make her out to be anything he liked. There would be time for experimentation later. Right now, he wanted her basically as she was. With a few slight modifications to his liking, of course.

She began swaying her hips and shoulders to an unheard beat as she ran her palms over the sides of her torso and moved them up enticingly over the sides of her breasts, pushing them ever so slowly together. It didnï¿½t take long for the blouse to join the skirt on the floor.

That tan that he was going on about earlier was indeed, quite breathtaking to behold. She didnï¿½t have that deep fried lobster look people got when they spent a weekend in the sun but rather a rich golden hue from continual exposure.

Tracey, now clad in only a black cotton brassiere and matching briefs, walked towards him still swaying her hips seductively. She lowered herself to kiss him as his hands snaked around her back to undo the clasp of her bra. Holding her firmly under her armpits, Marc lifted her up to take a good look at her. The skin at her breasts was slightly fairer than her shoulders in account of her wearing a swimsuit but being a healthy, heterosexual male, Marc had no complaints. There was nothing to complain about. She was by no means stacked, but they were still a gorgeous perky set of tits.

Leaning forward, he took an already hardened nipple into his mouth and wrapped his arms around her waist as Tracey looked down at him with lidded eyes. Arching her back, she pulled, not that she had to pull terribly hard, his head closer to her, mashing her flesh against his face.

ï¿½Mmmmhï¿½ï¿½ She groaned as he alternated nipples. She pushed him backward onto his bed and crawled over him, her breasts hanging over his face.

Hmmm, well only because sheï¿½s offering ever so sweetlyï¿½ Marc mused as his mouth came up to tease her already hardened nipples. She began to let down her hair as Marcï¿½s fingers peeled the briefs down her thighs. Her hair now tickled his ears as she returned her mouth to his, her hands busy trying to manipulate the zipper on his jeans. Leaving her underwear around her ankles, Marc waited somewhat impatiently, with Traceyï¿½s hot mouth on his, until she freed him from his suddenly very cramped and restricting jeans.

Neither of them was stupid enough to commit to unprotected sex, so without further ado, Tracey ripped the small foil packet open with her teeth and rolled the condom into place. Without warning, he rolled her over and spread her thighs with one fluid moment. Because her briefs were still around her ankles and his hands on her knees, she didnï¿½t have the leverage to push him off her. Before she had a chance to move or say anything, he pushed into her. She exhaled sharply.

ï¿½Well someoneï¿½s been a bad girl.ï¿½ Marc teased. She was wet enough for him to penetrate her easily and she obviously wasnï¿½t a virgin.

ï¿½Shut up idiot!ï¿½ Tracey humped her hips up to his playfully. ï¿½I donï¿½t hear you complaining.ï¿½

ï¿½Complaining? What in then hell do I have to complain about?ï¿½ Marc grinned.

Traceyï¿½s hips continued their rhythmic rolling sending Marcï¿½s mind to the borders of sanity.

He felt his first orgasm welling up and slowed his pace on her immediately but Tracey was being a particularly eager beaver and was having none of it. In spite of his protests she managed to roll him over onto his back and began to slam her hips up and down over him.

ï¿½Aww FUuuuuuuuuUUCK!ï¿½ Marcï¿½s head collided with the metal frame of the bunk as he started his ï¿½fluid transferï¿½ into the piece of latex between their heaving, sweaty bodies. Jerking and gasping, he sploshed around, and fell back on the bed.

ï¿½Now look what you made me do.ï¿½ He growled with mock-severity, before pulling her face down to his.

ï¿½Good, now youï¿½ll last longer the second timeï¿½ï¿½ She whispered seductively into his ear. The condom was carefully unrolled and disposed of. Fortunately, Marc just so happened to have a spare one in his wallet.

ï¿½Speaking of lasting, youï¿½ve lasted longer than I did. Hmmm, it appears Iï¿½ll have to do something about that. Poor me.ï¿½ Marc pulled himself away from her grasp. Grabbing her by her ankles, he pulled her partially off the bed and knelt on the floor between her legs, his face only inches away from her luscious little pussy. Tracey raised herself up on her elbows to watch him.

ï¿½Permission to perform cunnilingus, Milady?ï¿½ Marc asked putting on a stiff Pommy accent.

She giggled, letting herself fall back onto the bed with one arm thrown across her face. ï¿½But of course, dear Sir. Please do!ï¿½

With permission, he dived immediately into her, starting by running his tongue up, down, and around her labia and then sparingly, her clit. Heï¿½d had limited (bugger all, really) experience in this arena, but Tracey wasnï¿½t complaining. As a matter of fact, she was squirming by now, so he figured he was on the right track.

By now her briefs had slipped from her ankles, and she let her thighs rub against his face, her ankles crossing behind his neck. Squirming around, moaning and, on occasion, giggling a little, she slowly approached her orgasm.

ï¿½Mmmmm, yeahï¿½ keep going, right there, yeah, right there.ï¿½ Her fingers wound their way through his hair, moved down and stroked his face then went back behind his head, holding him in place. He decided to use a technique heï¿½d seen in a porno once, with one girl going down on another. Figuring that a woman would know what a woman would like, he copied the actions heï¿½d seen.

Using his fingers to spread apart her labia, he gently slid his thumb inside, finding the fit tight, even on this digit. With his tongue, Marc teased her clit, wiggling over the sensitive bud, and drawing a fresh bout of writhing from Tracey. Between the actions of his thumb, slipping in and out of her, and his tongue doing its dance, her breathing was coming hard and fast.

ï¿½Oh fuck! Oh God! OH GOD!ï¿½ Tracey panted grinding herself against Marcï¿½s face as yet another intense burst of pleasure flowed through her. Her thighs began to tremble uncontrollably as Marc continued to work between them. She felt him push down hard against her clit with his tongue and her mind exploded.

Arching her back and squealing, Tracey announced to the world that she was coming, and bucked against him. It lasted for a few seconds, then she relaxed and went limp. Weakly, she pulled him up, and he complied, sliding up over her now sweaty body to join her kiss. This time it was softer, looser, and more tender than before. The sense of urgency was lessened, and they were now more relaxed.

ï¿½Ohhh, baby, am I gonna make you feel so fucking good!ï¿½ She promised him. Marc couldnï¿½t contain his glee. Tracey rolled out from under him, planting herself atop him once more. This time, unencumbered by clothing, she slid down him, pressing her warm flesh against his as she went. Finally, and after much licking and stroking, she reached his cock, which had now attained gargantuan proportions.

Tracey took a breath, then put her mouth around it. He could feel her tongue tickling him as she took him deeper, all the way to the back of her throat, until she began to gag, then she pulled back, just as slowly. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she asked him, in a breathy, husky voice, how he wanted it.

ï¿½How do I want itï¿½? Well thatï¿½s a tough question, what exactly are you offering?ï¿½

ï¿½Just you wait and seeï¿½ï¿½ She whispered. Holding him firmly by the base, she rubbed the head of his penis over her open lips giving him the occasional lick before bringing it down past her jaw line, along the side of her neck. Changing her grip and her positioning, she placed him between her breasts, masturbating him with her soft flesh. Watching his penis slide between her tits, Marc had long since surpassed what he considered heaven.

Just when he though he was going to blow it on those lovely breasts, Tracey released her hold on him and crawled back onto the bunk. Taking the unused condom from the small table next to his bed, she deftly removed it from its packet. Holding it at her lips, she sucked a bit of it into her mouth keeping the ring outside her lips. Then she crawled back between his legs and took his penis into her mouth letting the condom unroll as he slid further into her mouth and then into her throat. Marc had never seen anything so erotic in his life.

ï¿½Where did you learn to do that?ï¿½ He exclaimed.

ï¿½Iï¿½m not tellingï¿½ï¿½ Tracey teased.

She climbed on top of him and placed her sex over his gift-wrapped penis. With agonising slowness, she lowered herself down on him. The second their pubic hair met, she raised her hips and let him slip out of her.

ï¿½Donï¿½t tease me.ï¿½ Marc warned. Tracey giggled and lowered herself down again but this time after two full strokes she lifted herself off him. ï¿½Damnit!ï¿½

ï¿½Okay, okay, Iï¿½ll stop it.ï¿½ Tracey let him fill her up again. Then just as she raised her hips, Marc grabbed her by the waist and rolled her on her back.

ï¿½Hey wait a secï¿½ï¿½ Before she could continue, Marc started to plough into her. Tracey instinctively tried to push him off. She was a tease, she liked being the one in control, but one look into Marcï¿½s eyes and she knew she didnï¿½t have a chance. The animal lust was all too apparent. The only way to stop him was to knock him senseless or wait patiently for him to run out of semen. It wasnï¿½t that she considered this rape, quite on the contrary, his almost brutal thrusts into her pushed the fine line between pain and pleasure. She was drawing closer to climaxing.

ï¿½OH sweet JESUS!ï¿½ Tracey shrieked as another massive climax hit her. She was only dimly aware that Marc had upped the tempo but as her head cleared she realised his thrusts were so hard they were actually bouncing her off the mattress.

Resigning herself to let him finish, Tracey grabbed the bars of the metal headboard to brace herself for her orgasm. It hit her harder than she expected. Letting out a loud gasp, her eyes slammed shut as she convulsed under Marcï¿½s relentless fucking, her wetness milking him for all she was worth. She never got a chance to recover, Marc looked down at her almost sadistically as her body was hit by another series of rolling orgasms.

ï¿½Stop! God please Ohhhhh Fuuuuuuckï¿½ STOP!ï¿½ Tracey screamed, her pretty eyes filling with tears. Sheï¿½d never cum so hard and so often before. She couldnï¿½t take much more. Marc, ignoring her pleas, went into overdrive.

ï¿½Pleeeeeeseï¿½ Oh my God, arrggghhhuum, OH FaarrhucK!ï¿½ Tracey hissed, wide eyed. It was starting to hurt now. Another massively powerful orgasm hit her and she collapsed weakly. Marc almost joined her, such was the intensity of his own climax. None of his previous lays came close to this one. He silently thanked the Goddess for his gift as he slumped over the insensible body beneath him.

ï¿½You did make me feel so fucking good baby.ï¿½ He told the unconscious girl before sleep overcame him.