tagCelebritiesEverybody Loves Raymond: Debra's Day

Everybody Loves Raymond: Debra's Day

bydemurebutwild©

Everybody Loves Raymond: Debra's Big Weekend

Saturday Morning

Bright light. Where was it coming from, Debra wondered. She fought against the haze and sluggishness, finally opening her eyes and waking up, still exhausted from...what? She lay in bed, realizing that the light was from outside. What time was it? How late had she slept? She looked over at the bedside table at the clock; 9:34, it said, its little red numbers placidly staring back at her. 9:34? When was the last time she'd slept this late? She couldn't remember. She lay there and turned over on her side, groaning slightly as she did. She was sore, she had a horrible taste in her mouth, and as she lay there vaguely wondering why this was so she suddenly realized that she was naked...and it all came rushing back to her. Her big weekend alone, the trip to the store, Marco, his visit last night...everything. She blushed a deep red at the memory of her behavior, and sitting up, wincing at the pain between her legs and in her backside, she stared at the mess that was her sheets...a now dry mess of fluids that she'd simply passed out in, exhausted from three hours of the most fantastic, hard-core, mind-blowing and nasty sex she'd ever had. Oh, God, what had she done? What had she allowed to be done to her? She, who had always believed that the best sex between a man and woman came from a partnership where both were equal, and neither dominant? Had she really done those things? Allowed a man half her age to do things to her that only the lowliest whore would allow? Not only allowed, but shamelessly begged for on her knees? Memories came flooding back, minor sensory images from last night, memories of taste, touch, smell, sight and sound.

She pushed them down for now, and slowly and painfully, she got out of bed, gingerly walking down the hall to the bathroom. She turned on the water, filling her tub and adding some mild soap to it (no telling what the stronger stuff would feel like on her abused nether regions), and as it filled, she stood there, looking at herself in the mirror. She saw a tired, sore woman, a woman who'd done things she would be ashamed of for the rest of her days. But, she also saw a woman newly invigorated, a woman made keenly aware of her sexuality and her appetite for a good, hard fuck...and for much, much more. The water was about right, and she turned it off, stepping into the tub and settling herself down. It hurt a bit at first, especially on her behind...it felt strangely stretched, and blushing, she knew it had good reason to. Again, the memories flashed by, and she allowed them to for a second: the site of Marco's face and dark, penetrating eyes, the pungent smell of his body, the tickle on her nose of his pubic hair as she sucked his cock, the gagging and slurping sounds she made to please him when he fucked her mouth, the taste of his semen on her tongue (and oh, the memory of how it got there!), the feel of it on her face and in her hair...all this and more flooded back, in a kaleidoscope of images, each blurring by in a swirling mass. She blushed again, forcing herself to remember the entire event, and was again shocked and embarrassed by her behavior.

She had to face facts and deal with it; she'd had an affair, something she never seriously believed she would. Not only that, but she'd had it with a man not half her age, a boy really, just turned 19. She didn't even know his last name, had in fact only met him once, and yet had done things with him she'd never done with anyone else, had begged him on her knees like a shameless whore to do things to her she'd always believed to be degrading to women. She closed her eyes again, moaning in despair at the thought of how she'd let this man, this boy, this stranger take her in the ways he had, how he'd fucked her like a complete slut, and how he'd cum, unprotected, in her every orifice. Was he clean? Would she need to go into the city to a clinic for a check, for God's sake? And worse, could she be pregnant? She'd used no protection, hadn't wanted any, would have fought like a mad woman had he dared try to use anything that kept his bare cock from her at the time. How the hell had this happened? She did a quick mental check; what time of the month was it for her? Thinking for a second, she sighed with relief; it wasn't likely she'd gotten pregnant, not now. After the difficulty she'd had getting pregnant in the first place, she was almost positive she wouldn't be now.

Still, how had this man gotten to her so quickly and completely? How had she gone from watching a movie and drinking a glass of wine to ending up lying naked and sore in sheets soaked with her own wetness and his copious semen, her face covered in dried cum and her stretched, abused anus and sex leaking it by what felt was the bucket full? She lay back, letting the hot water ease her soreness, and remembered...

Friday Afternoon

Debra shut the van door and sighed with pleasure. She'd done it! After months and months, she'd finally done it! She had a full weekend to herself, something she couldn't remember when she'd had last. Even better this time was that it was such a surprise, because it was unexpected. She'd known for weeks that Frank and Marie where taking the kids to Jersey for a week to visit some family they had there, and she was as happy for the kids as she was for herself. For all their faults, Frank and Marie were great to the boys and Allie, and this last trip before school started back would be good for them. Shed' planned to spend that week they were gone getting some cleaning done (doubtless Marie would sneer at the thought, the old witch), and spending some time with Ray. Then she found out that Robert was going off to a police training program in San Diego for the week, and that Amy was going with him. Even better! She loved Robert and Amy, but Robert invariably showed up at the wrong times and Ray never seemed to know how to get him to stop. So, she was really looking forward to a peaceful week.

Then, the final piece of the puzzle...Ray had gotten a call that morning from the office. A sick colleague couldn't go to an important interview with some ball player from Chicago, so Ray had to take it. They'd packed in a frenzy, gotten him a ticket and booked a hotel, and rushed him to the airport so quickly that she hadn't had time to really think about what it meant. Ray would be gone until Monday afternoon, when she had to pick him up from his flight. She had an entire weekend to herself! She was giddy at the thought, and nearly pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She whooped out loud, and as she drove away from the departure lot, she started planning her weekend. First, she'd stop at the video store and pick up a couple of good movies...maybe Dying Young and My Life, both good tear-jerkers, the kind Ray wouldn't watch. Then she'd run by the A&P, pick up some stuff for the weekend (including a bottle of her favorite wine), and settle in for the next two days. She planned to go nowhere, and to enjoy her private time while she had it.

After a quick and uneventful trip to the video store, she stopped by the A&P. Quickly getting what she needed, she made small talk with some of the people she knew in the store. Peggy told her about the upcoming PTA drive, reminding Debra that someone would drop by the house to ask her for help this year on the fundraising committee. Inwardly she seethed at this...seemed like they always wanted something. But outwardly she was all smiles, and she told Peggy that it would be no problem, she'd be happy, anything for the kids, blah, blah, blah. Finally she made her way to the checkout line, where two teenage boys were checking out and bagging. The one checking out she knew; Anthony, from the local high school. He was a football player, and had met with Ray once for some school project. Not a bad looking kid, she thought with a naughty inward grin. She wasn't sure about the bag-boy, though...he had his back to her, filling the bags of the lady in front of her. She was pretty sure she didn't know him; she didn't remember seeing anyone like him. He was too tall, for one, and had the dark skin of someone who spent a lot of time outside. Maybe a migrant worker, or something, she mused. Dismissing the thought from her mind, she began unloading her purchases on the conveyer.

"Hi, Mrs. Barone," said Anthony cheerfully.

"Hello, Anthony," she replied. "Ready for your first year at college?"

"Sure am", he said. "Thanks to your husband's reference, I got a partial scholarship to NYU. Just got the letter yesterday! My folks are so excited they can't see straight. I'm the first in the family to go to a private school, and they're already convinced I'll be on the Supreme Court one day."

Inwardly surprised that Ray had such influence, she replied "Wow, that's great! Congratulations, Anthony! I bet your parents are really proud!"

"Yeah, they are! Dad already bought himself an NYU sweatshirt and a window sticker. But you know what makes it better?"

"No, what's that" said Debra politely, inwardly itching to get home and start her Big Weekend (she could actually hear the capital letters).

"Well, my cousin Marco from Milan got a scholarship too! He applied for a study abroad program, and since he has family here they gave him a chance to come to New York and go to Purchase. He's studying literature, and since he's fluent in both Italian and English, they gave him a scholarship, too. So, he's going to be here for a year. Isn't that great!"

"Sure it is", she replied. "I hope to meet him someday!"

"Well, you can meet him right now! Mar, hey, Mar" he said, poking the boy next to him. "Turn around. There's someone I want you to meet. This is Mrs. Barone, the wife of the guy who wrote that recommendation for me".

"Mar" turned around, and Debra felt her heart stop, thinking to herself 'oh, where was this kid when we were at the pool this summer?' Marco was about six feet tall, with the jet-black hair and olive skin common to Italian men. But he face! His body! 'My God', Debra thought, 'he's an Adonis if there ever was one.' She felt a rush of heat between her legs; this kid was gorgeous, and simply oozed sexuality. She couldn't quite put her finger on why; was it the broad, defined shoulders, or the sensual, slightly sleep look to his eyes? Was it his full lips, or maybe the firm, muscular (but not bulky, like so many young athletes) shape of his body? 'It's all of it', she thought, 'but something else, too'.

"Ciao, Mrs. Barone," he said, in a soft, somewhat deeper voice than she'd expected, a voice with a heavy Italian accent....a voice custom-made for getting a girl to do what he wanted. "I'm pleased to meet you; any friend of Anthony's is a friend of mine".

"NicetomeetyouMarco", Debra spilled out, trying to focus. 'Stop staring at him', she thought, instantly imagining that the entire store could see right through her. 'He's a kid, for God's sake!', she thought. 'But, he isn't', whispered a voice deep, deep in the back of her mind, a voice she sometimes heard when she was having particularly inappropriate thoughts, a voice she thought of as "Naughty Debra". 'He's 19, which means he's a man...and a hell of a man, at that'.

Blushing, she pushed that thought aside, sending "Naughty Debra" back to the cell the mean little bitch lived most of the time.

"Well, boys, I have to go" she said, clearing her throat. "I'm spending the weekend alone, and have some things to do. Bye, now! Nice meeting you, Marco! Good luck to you both this year at school!"

She left hurriedly, dropping one of her bags in her frantic effort to get out of the store and away from the disapproving eyes she imagined on her. As she stopped to pick up her bag, Marco knelt beside her, grabbing it just as she did, his hand touching hers. She looked up quickly, directly into his eyes, mumbled "thanks", and got out of there. She'd seen it; oh, yes, she'd seen it...and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

She drove home, and unloaded the van. She quickly put away her groceries, and began busying herself around the house, loosing herself in the simple tasks of housekeeping. Her mind kept flashing back to that brief instant in the store. She HAD seen it, right? She wasn't imagining things, was she? In her younger days, Debra had been pursued by her share of men, and she'd seen what she thought of as "the look" many times before...the look that showed interest, that said the man thought she was hot and wanted her. She hadn't seen "the look" in years, not since she and Ray had started dating and she'd first met his friends. No, she thought, she must be wrong. That kid could have any woman he wanted...of that, she was sure. He oozed sexuality, and also a sort of confidence one would expect in a much older man. That was what it was, she thought...that was what made him so sexy. The package it was wrapped in was nothing short of awesome, but what made him so damn hot, what had made her wet right there in the store was his obvious confidence in himself. No, there was no way he'd shot her the look...she had to be wrong. But yet, she thought, she'd never been wrong before. Just because Ray wasn't as interested these days as he used to be didn't mean she didn't still have it. She sighed, thinking about that.

Ray loved her; of that, she had no doubt. And truly, she loved him too. He made her laugh, and he was a great provider. Yes, a bit lazy around the house, and prone to do stupid things at times, but a good man, husband and father. His biggest failing, though, was that he just didn't get her sometimes. He didn't understand, for example, that sometimes she needed a good cry (hence, the movies she planned to watch tonight), or that she needed him to take her side against his mom every so often, not because she hated Marie (though sometimes she did), but because she needed to know he could put her first. And, that she sometimes liked to be treated a certain way in bed. Ray was of the "slam, bam, thank you ma'am" school of thought...the kind of guy who thought sex was something to be done quickly and as hard as possible, probably from watching one too many porno films with the guys. Sure, sometimes that could be fun. But not all the time...at other times, Debra just liked to cuddle, naked...and Ray never got that. Nor did he get that sometimes, she wanted to try new things. Maybe not outlandish things—she'd never had any interest in anal sex, for example—but something new, just to spice things up a bit. At the core, though, she was certain that Ray just didn't understand that for women, sex wasn't just about physical pleasure, but about emotional pleasure, too. And, while she was on the subject of the physical aspects of sex, she might as well face the fact that Ray wasn't terribly well endowed. At six inches his penis wasn't exactly tiny, but with age his stamina had gone down, his gut had grown out, and it was becoming increasingly rare that she climaxed when they made love....she might have had he done some appropriate fore-play, but he didn't.

She'd long ago given up trying to "teach" Ray how fore-play was supposed to work. So, she faked it, of course...Ray's ego would be shattered to think he couldn't satisfy her, and she loved him too much to let that happen. But, what that meant for her was that she often had to wait until she had some private time to take care of her own needs. A bath, for example, provided that time, or those rare occasions when she had the house to herself and reasonable assurance of privacy. At those times (something about as rare as the planets coming into alignment), she'd light a couple of candles, strip, lay on the bed, read one of her "romance novels" (a name she always found amusing for what was essentially soft-core pornography) and use her fingers or her trusty vibrator in a long, slow session of self-pleasure. Part of her was dissatisfied with this, but she understood that it was the price she paid for the life she led.

Still, it was pleasing to think that a young demigod like Marco would want her in that way. She wondered briefly (and not without a guilty twinge of pleasure that brought some heat back to her sex again) what kind of lover he was, how big his cock was (she shivered at that thought), and how good he was in bed. Pretty damn good, probably...you didn't get that kind of confidence by accident. In any case, she had a feeling that tonight, when she went to bed, he'd be on her mind again...and that she wouldn't need a romance novel to get herself going! It was a bit disturbing, really, how much this kid was on her mind after meeting him only once.

She kept re-living that touch in the store, and that moment when they locked eyes...that sure had seemed like "the look" to her, regardless of the age difference. Oh, if she were ten years younger and single (or hell, just single!) she'd show that kid a good time, she thought (and, just maybe, he'd show her one too). 'No,' she thought, pushing the thought away. 'I didn't see it, couldn't have, and even if I did there isn't anything I can do about it, or should do about it'.

After putting Marco out of her mind and finishing her little bit of housework so that she could enjoy a clean house for at least a couple of days, Debra changed into some relaxing clothes—a pair of sweats and a tank-top—and fixed a quick salad for dinner. She sat in front of the TV, watching the news, and then some program on the Lifetime channel (more because she could do so with Ray gone, rather than any real desire to see it), and drank a glass of wine. She was thoroughly enjoying the beginning of her weekend, and just wondering what she would do tomorrow, when the doorbell rang.

'Damn,' she thought. 'It's probably that PTA lady Peggy warned me about. Just what I need!' She figured she'd agree to whatever the wanted, just to get rid of them quickly and get back to enjoying her solitude...whatever it was, it would be worth it just to have her free time. She yelled out "Just a sec!" and answered the door, her reply half formed on her lips, when she realized that it wasn't one of the PTA reps on her doorstep...it was Marco.

He'd changed from his store smock into a simple white tee-shirt and jeans, and he smiled lazily at her when she opened the door. Her jaw nearly dropped, and a whirl-wind of thoughts ran through her mind. What was he doing here? How did he know where she lived? Why had she not checked the peephole first? Was her hair okay? Why had she not put on a bra under her shirt? Did anyone see him there? And, above all, how oh-so sexy he looked! He was standing in a relaxed, not quite slouch, hands in his pockets. His jeans were well-worn but not dirty, and it was obvious from the shirt that he had one hell of a body. She realized that she was simply staring, and quickly tried to recover.

"Oh, umm, Hi, Marco," she stammered. "What brings you here?" 'And, how did you know my address?' she thought to herself.

"Mrs. Barone," he said, "I'm very sorry to disturb. I came to apologize for today".

"Apologize for what?" Debra replied, honestly mystified. What had he done, other than bag her groceries and make her a bit wet in all the right places?

"In my country, Mrs. Barone, when a man is introduced to a beautiful woman, he does not simply say 'ciao' and leave it at that. No, he must greet her properly, and show respect. I didn't do this, and wanted to make amends."

"Well, that's quite alright, Marco" she said, blushing as her mind screamed 'you HEARD him, he SAID it! He called you a beautiful woman! You were right! It was "the look"!'

Clearing her head quickly, she said "It's okay in this country to do just what you did, so no harm done!"

"Ah, but Mrs. Barone," he followed up, almost as if he'd expected this reply, "I take my country's customs with me wherever I go! Just because I am not there doesn't mean I can behave any less well than I would at home, no?"

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