The Newlin's, Marcie & Mark Pt. 11

What Mark found interesting was that in all his time in Monroe, he never once heard any of the men discussing their sex lives with their respective wives. There was some talk about certain women in general, even one or two in particular, but no one's spouse was ever mentioned.

Later that night, back in his suite he thought about what Rana had to say about his sexual performance, and to whom she might say it.

Samira's the best bet. That makes sense; I've had them both and encouraged them to do each other---so there's that; but who else? The only other female he could put in close quarters with Rana was the one ... her name eluded him, but he was thinking about the girl who brought the laundry in while he and Rana were fucking. She dropped the laundry and took the fuck off. But she must have spoken to Rana ... soooo what did Rana tell her?

He called Rana the following morning and after some lovey-dovey sweet talk asked her how friendly she was with the girl who had barged in on them carrying Rana's laundry.

"Oh, you mean Nicole, well like I said; we share some classes and she lives in the next building. Why?"

"This might sound stupid, but it's not from jealousy or anything like that. But do you and um, Nicole discuss our sex life?"

"Not really, Mark, why do you need to ask me that?"

"Um, I was at one of these greet the new guy things last night and happened to eavesdrop on several of the wives talking, and all they talked about was their own or someone else's sex life. I was shocked. Really I was!"

He emphasized the 'Really I was,' to persuade her that he was serious.

"Well I have talked about you and me with Samira. I expect you figured that out. As for Nicole, the furthest we got was her apologizing profusely to me for barging in on us. The poor girl was mortified. She didn't want to see what she saw and is doing her best to forget the entire incident."

"Mmmm, and how about you, baby? You want to forget about ... the incident?"

"Oh, Mark, I'll never forget you. Each and every time we did it was soooo memorable! I'm almost there just talking with you, you know?"

Mark sweet talked her for another twenty-five minutes and Rana 'got there' more than once.

___________________

Mark discovered quickly enough that he was a small cog in the wheel designing the Monroe Library. His design was to be used --- at least initially, but then the changes started and within days the original concept all but disappeared. When Mark registered a mild protest, Bob Stephenson drew him aside and told him it happened all the time, even to the best of designs. Frank Lloyd Wright changed his own designs, and if he did it, you shouldn't lose heart if Ezra or I decide something needs revising. Remember, your name remains on the design as originator and that's what counts in our architectural world.

Later on, when Mark looked back on the situation, he saw that both Ezra and Bob had extended him a rare privilege in allowing him to speak his mind on various points of the libraries development and construction. In fact, they saw to it that he was alongside them as the planning moved along, and again when construction began and to its conclusion.

They even stepped aside to let him share in cutting the ribbon at the Libraries grand opening along with the Mayor and Town Librarian. Best of all, he could add this accomplishment to his resume while still having a year to go before graduation. Added to this were the letters of recommendation he would present to potential Architectural firms from the Mayor and Ezra's own firm.

But we're getting ahead of our story. Following the evening at the DeZam's, Mark threw himself into his work. In the coming days and nights, Mark found Monroe to be less than memorable. There was the heat, he remembered that, of course, and the work, which was challenging at first, and then just tedious and repetitive.

As mentioned above Mark saw his original plans changed and while he had to admit the changes made the library better, it irked him all the same for he thought he should have known better and made those adjustments before they were picked apart by the second-in-command, Bob Richardson.

Then there was Mrs. Stephenson. Mrs. Christie Stephenson, Bob's wife. The affair began at a party thrown by Maurice Maurice the owner of the local BMW dealership and probably the wealthiest man in Monroe.

Bob Stevenson was out of town chasing after a potential project in Shreveport. This left his wife Christie without an escort. Then Victoria Sistati proposed Mark fill that void and he was only too happy to do so.

The party lived up to its reputation—Mark had heard it was the biggest one in town next to Mardi Gras. It started sedately, with a range of friends from work and beyond mixing and eating. As the night wore on and the casual crowd left for home, the party evolved to a core group of closer friends while it moved inside to keep the noise down. The music got louder, and it seemed more couples were dancing now than were earlier.

Being the youngest male present, Mark had been called upon to dance with most of the women and was enjoying himself immensely.

The ladies were loosened up and having fun, and there had been plenty of breast contact and some groin to groin as well. Mark was hornier than he'd been since arriving in Monroe and his erection got even harder when he plopped down on a couch only to hear Christie say, "That looks comfortable. Mind if I take a break with you?"

"Sure. Plenty of room, he said, patting the place beside him. Christie laughed, turned, and then lowered herself directly into his lap. Mark scrambled to put an arm around her when she lifted her feet onto the couch and turned into him.

"Such a gentleman," she purred then held up a bottle of Jack Daniels and took a sip. "Here, share some with me."

The bottle was at his lips before he knew it, and he swallowed and felt the warmth spread throughout his body. Off to his left he heard a female voice—he thought belonged to Corrine Smathers saying: "She's got her hooks into him!"

He wondered for a moment just who 'the' was before realizing it was him!

Suddenly he felt a hand on his chest, a button came loose on his shirt then a hand was directly on my chest, stroking it in an intimate way.

"Your turn again, sport. Have another drinkie," Christie giggled, and he did.

Mark wasn't much of a drinker, and Jack Daniels was stronger than the beer he usually consumed, much stronger.

He realized she was tweaking his nipples. He liked it but wasn't in a position to return the favor.

"You like them?" He asked.

"Mmmm, they're very nice. I also like that big pole I'm sitting on. Have you used it often, Markie?"

"Um, I have ... I think." He was getting confused.

"Have another taste; the Jack will clear things up. Take another you'll see."

He had another 'taste.'

"So, Markie, got a girlfriend back in Nebraska?"

"Mmmm, yeah ... Rana."

"Rana? That's an unusual name. Is she Indian?"

"No, she's, um, Iranian; maybe Persian."

"They're one and the same, Markie."

"Ohhh."

"So what's she like? I mean tell me the juicy parts, you know?"

"She's gorgeous; a brunette with great tit ... I mean breasts ..."

"C'mon Markie, we're close friends now ..."

Christie's words and actions had fully charged his confidence.

She definitely wants it, he told himself.

"Um, okay great tits, legs and an ass to die for."

Christie laughed lewdly and put her mouth next to his ear then whispered, "Fuck her yet?"

Mark laughed and said, "Of course I have."

"More than once?"

"As often as I want. I've fucked her cousin too." Not realizing just how much information he was providing Christie with thanks to Mr. Jack Daniels.

"Is she ..." Christie's smile widened as she rephrased her question. "It is a she, right?"

Mark laughed. "Of course she's a she!"

"Is she better looking than ... um, Rana?"

Mark gave the question serious consideration before answering, for he had never compared them that way.

"It's hard to say. I mean, Samira's only a kid, you know? I mean she's a high school senior and all, but she's never done anything ... um, you know ... before we err, got together. Still she's a woman in every respect. I got her cherry. Rana got her cherry too, if you count girl on girl."

"Wow!" Christie was suitably impressed by this and felt for his erection---found it and was even more impressed.

"We need to become better acquainted, Markie. I'm going to get up and go through that door over there. I'd like you to slowly count to ten, and then follow me. I'll be waiting in the next room. I think we need more privacy."

"Sounds good to me," he said, and she noticed he hadn't slurred his words.

"No more Jack Daniels for you, Markie. I want you ready to go, understand?"

"You mean to seduce me, don't you Mrs. Stevenson?"

"Ahh, yes, that's right. Remember count to ten slowly."

Seconds later, Christie got up smiled at him and walked across the room touching Victoria Sistati on the shoulder and Maurice Maurice on the hand before leaving the room.

Mark counted to ten while looking around the room. Maurice Maurice now had his hand on Mrs. Sistati's ass and she didn't seem to mind. He gulped realizing he'd stopped counting and sprang to his feet; stood stock still for a full second then followed Christie's previous steps into the next room.

As he passed Maurice Maurice, he thought he heard him say something akin to "fresh meat," to Mrs. Sistati.

Mark found her waiting for him and then she led him down a hallway and into a large bedroom.

They went into a tight embrace in which she ground her pelvis against his boner. When the kiss ended, for some reason he felt it necessary to tell her what he thought Maurice Maurice had said as he past him.

Christie smiled at his words. "They're jealous, Mark."

"Of what? We haven't done anything."

"They know we will. If it were possible they'd love to watch us."

"That's crazy," he said, but thought back to that couple in the parking lot asking if he'd mind if they watched him and Rana.

"So they're kind of kinky, huh?" he said, beginning to show signs of sobering up somewhat.

Christie laughed and said, "That they are. She likes being restrained." She paused as if thinking about whether or not to continue then did. "And she likes being watched."

"An exhibitionist, eh?" Mark said aloud. Although it was meant for himself alone.

"Exactly, she likes to show herself off in sexual scenes."

"So you've seen her doing it."

"Of course."

"His hand dipped inside her dress and fondled a braless breast.

"Mmmmm," she purred.

"Tell me about it."

He felt the heat begin to pour off Christie in waves.

"I---I ..." She stammered, "I mean we---we've done things ..."

"Such as?" Mark pressed tweaking the nipple this time.

"Christ Markie ... I'm so hot. Why don't we just ..."

"Come on; tell me about you and Mrs. Sistati and whomever."

"Mmmm, touch me ... there ... you know ..."

Mark sent a hand up her dress and between her widened legs. Her underwear was wet.

"Yeah ... yeah right ... there!"

"TELL ME!"

"Oh Christ ... it---it was me and Vicky and her hus ... Oh—oh fuck yeah ... do that again! I'm so fuckin' close!"

"That would be Rick, her husband?"

"Yes---yes---ohhhhhhh---yes!"

"I'll keep rubbing. You keep talking, okay?"

"Yeah ... sure ... so---so Vicky lured me over to her place and after a couple drinks, we were kissing. Nothing that serious, you know?"

Mark nodded.

All of a sudden he shows up. I mean he comes right out of a closet. He'd been watching us. I mean, my skirt was up around my waist with her hand in my panties.

"I was caught! I wanted to run out of the room, but he was blocking my way and she---she bit my hand then kissed it. She rolled over onto her belly pulling my arm with her. Vicky turned and looked at me and spread her legs under the covers.

"Come on, we can share the other white meat," she said, "and I was hooked."

Mark chuckled then pulled Christie in for a long tongue swapping kiss.

"Whew," she said when it ended. "For a kid you certainly can kiss."

"I can screw too, but you be the judge of that, hmmmm?"

He was already pulling at the hem of her dress, raising it to her waist. Christie shimmied out of her panties on her own, then spread her legs for him.

Mark wedged his boner against the crack of her ass and began a slow humping motion just for the pleasant sensation it gave. She groaned and pushed back against him.

"Put it in!"

He hesitated, he had been thinking of going down on her first.

"Just do it," she said. "I'm ready."

He took hold of his cock and guided it into what to him seemed like an overripe peach, soft and a bit fuzzy on the outside, slick and juicy on the inside.

"Mmmmm," they groaned in tandem.

Mark's initial thrusts were slow so her juices could run coat his shaft as well as her vaginal walls. The tight stretching discomfort of pushing his member in felt great---was great, until he heard her demanding that he go at her harder.

He adjusted his pace to long, hard thrusts, lingering at the end to enjoy the pressure it caused from the head of my shaft to the base and a bit beyond.

Christie continued complaining; "Faster, c'mon Markie---fuck me!"

Wow. Dirty talk. I didn't expect that! He thought, and then began a rapid thirty seconds of ferocious pummeling that left them both breathless and panting.

"Oh, yeah! That's ... Oh, fuck ... fuck yeah!"

"HUH!"

"AH—AHHH---AHHHHH!"

She came. The shock of it froze Mark in place, but it didn't stop her from coming even more.

"Don't stop, Goddamnit. Fuck me!"

It took him several seconds to gather himself for the next attack, for that's what it was ... an attack on her cunt. Starting slower this time he relied on long, deep thrusts with a few seconds between them to heighten her expectations and increase her overall sensations accordingly.

Then as she began whining into her next orgasm, he increased the tempo and hastened her climax.

"Oh God ... That's soooo good!"

Now having more or less found his second wind, Mark proceeded to pound Mrs. Christie Stephenson's pelvis into the mattress.

"I'm going to fill your pussy with cum this time," he yelled and came.

Christie grabbed the headboard and lifted herself up onto her knees. The move pushed Mark back, interrupting his orgasm to the extent that his member was dislodged from her vagina and he began spewing his semen onto her back.

"NO---NO! Don't you do that! PUT---PUT IT BACK!

Trying his best to comply with her wishes, Mark took hold of her hips, and managed to funnel his cock back into her gaping hole although almost hitting the anus by mistake.

Her pussy gripped his hardon like a pair of slick hands. She arched her back as far as she could and used the headboard to lever back into him. Mark was no longer ejaculating, and still had some juice left in his balls and resumed pounding her.

They were making noise now and didn't seem to care.

She was screaming at him and either her fist or head was hitting the wall over and over. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Can't hold off ... (huff—huff) ... much longer!"

"Try!"

"Gonna come soon," he said.

"Then cum in me. I'm cumming too!"

They both screamed out their release. There was a moments of silence, and then the unseen audience standing outside the bedroom door broke into applause, with some even shouting, "Bravo!" "Encore!" and the like to the embarrassment of both Christie and Mark.

It got worse when the door opened and their audience, some twenty people poured into the room clapping and still calling for them both to take a bow --- as you are, of course, Maurice Maurice added with a broad smile.

To Mark's astonishment, Christie stood up, smoothed her dress down to normal height and curtsied for them. Mark just sat on the side of the bed, finally smiling back at the group and good-naturedly waved off calls for an encore.

Later on after things quieted down a little, Mark learned that what had happened between him and Christie wasn't unusual for their group. And no, Bob Stephenson wouldn't be displeased to learn that he had been intimate with his wife. It happened at least once a month in Monroe, and Maurice Maurice added, "Lord knows what goes on when they leave town to visit Dallas or New York!" to huge laughter.