Getting into Marie's Pants

She was without a doubt the most difficult woman I ever had the misfortune to be tangled up with. Stubborn, opinionated, and too damn smart for her own good, Marie was high maintenance. I should have ditched her as soon as I realized what sort of trouble she was, but by then it was too late. I had been captivated by her beauty, drawn in by her strangely diffident manner, then held in thrall by that amazing paradox of fire and velvet which was Marie.

She claimed to carry royal blood from her Central African heritage, and when the mood was on her, she had a queenly air about her. At other times, she would speak of her duty toward me as my woman, and her need to serve me and make me complete. While I enjoyed the benefits of her softness toward me (and oh, how I enjoyed them), there was always that background of arrogance and self-possession which could burst into a cold fire of disdain when she felt I had somehow not measured up to an undeclared standard deep in her mind.

When she stared at me with those dark eyes burning with fury, her head held high, and her entire body radiating determination and power, I could almost believe her claim of royal lineage, although her pale coffee complexion, nearly straight black hair and fine facial features spoke of some admixture of heritage. At the time I saw it as dilution, but later, as she unleashed her powers on me, I came to recognize it as a synergy . A combination of the secret forces of many cultures.

And when the fury passed, the make-up sex was beyond anything I had ever experienced. She knew tricks which took me to the edge of release, then brought me back again. Over and over again - driving me deeper into a sexual frenzy until finally, that cataclysmic moment of release, when the ragged edges of raw emotion and sexual desire dissolved into a sense of peace and well-being. And through it all, her gentle words, her little gasps, affirming that I was the most charming, the strongest, the most handsome man in the world, and that she was my woman taking her rightful place beneath me to meet my needs.

Oh, how I wish I had run away. I was outclassed, but by the time I realized it I was incapable of escape - I was as firmly held in Marie's sweet web as any fly waiting to be consumed by a spider. I didn't recognize it at the time - I was too busy being pleasured by a beautiful, intelligent woman... or else being scolded by that same woman.

She would take exception to something that I said or did, and in a cold, hard voice explain what I had done wrong and demand an apology. Often I had to admit deep inside that she was right, but it was her manner that got to me. Cold, and hard - always logical and articulate; always perfectly controlled.

This was something I had never encountered before in a woman, and I didn't know how to deal with it. So, as she got angry with me, I got angry with her. Unlike hers, though, my anger wasn't cold or logical - it was a white hot rage. I would argue with her, then as she ran rings around me with her words, I would become so furious that I could barely string my own words together.

I will never forget the first time I lost control. It was a Friday afternoon - a shocking day to end a shocking week. I was tired and frustrated, and had picked Marie up from the newspaper offices where she worked, heading back toward her cottage in the outer suburbs of the city. On the edge of town, some guy, for reasons known only to himself, placed his front fender about a yard behind my rear and followed me down the street. I fumed. I cursed. I ranted. And all the time, Marie was telling me calmly to let it go, to ignore it. Finally, I swerved the car off the road and killed the motor, leaning across to yell in her face, "Marie, idiots like that are the reason the road toll is so damn high. They kill people. And you tell me to ignore it! Well, how can I when he is placing my life in danger? And you just sit there without giving me any support, and then you take his damn side. You are as much a part of the problem as he is. How can you be so stupid?"

I think it was the last sentence that crossed the line. Marie stared at me as if I was a particularly unattractive maggot which had just crawled out of her salad, and spoke with a dangerous quietness. "Michael, the people who harm others on the roads are foolish little men who are unable to control their tempers. Ranting and swearing at other road users achieves nothing. Failing to control your own temper makes you even more of a problem than that other driver. And by behaving like a spoiled child while you are driving, you are placing us both in danger. I suggest you think clearly about which one of us is behaving stupidly, and while you are doing that, please also consider why you need to address me in such a threatening and contemptuous manner, because I am not prepared to be either threatened or treated with contempt. Now, I am going to find my own way home, and I do not want to speak to you for a while."

With that, she picked up her bag and stepped out of the car. Without a backward glance, I pulled back into the traffic, leaving her beside the road. I am sorry to admit that her little speech and reasonable tone only served to make me angrier than ever, and I really don't remember a lot of that weekend, aside from a monumental hangover on Sunday and a pervading sense of regret which seemed to increase as the hangover receded. How could I have been such a fool? And more to the point, how could I have left Marie by the freeway and driven off? I must have called her cellphone a hundred times, the calls always falling through to her cheery invitation to leave a message, leaving me to conclude that she had either been kidnapped and murdered, or that she was ignoring my calls. I prayed it was the latter, and feared it was the former, spending much of the evening parked outside her empty house anxiously hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Finally I was rewarded on Monday morning when she called and invited me to meet her for lunch.

Lunch was pleasant and polite, with a little reserve on both sides. Marie told me that she was very disappointed with me - a sentiment I was feeling myself. Although I apologized profusely, and she accepted my apology, she stared at me with a quiet intensity as she delivered her ultimatum. "Michael, I like you very much, but will never again be spoken to in the way you did on Friday. I am happy enough to forgive your little tantrum and put it behind us, but if you ever again speak to me with contempt or in a threatening manner, I promise you will regret it."

I met her eyes. "Marie, ever since Friday, I have regretted the way I treated you, and I promise it will never happen again." Her intense gaze didn't alter. "I will hold you to that promise, and can assure you that if you break it, the regret you feel will be far worse than the little bit of emotional discomfort you have experienced over the last couple of days."

Well, I can't claim I wasn't given fair warning, and I must say she was certainly telling the truth. But at the time, the feeling that I had smoothed things over and could look forward to a few evenings of making up overshadowed the vague feelings of disquiet her final words awakened in me.

The make-up sex was good. It was so damn good that I managed to convince myself that Marie was sorry for being so harsh on me and was keen to make amends for the way she had treated me. We had a couple of amazing nights together, and our relationship went back to normal, so I made a mental note to always treat her with respect, and that was pretty much that.

Until the day she wrecked my car. That bald statement really doesn't convey the gravity of what Marie did. She wrecked my candy-apple red Mustang convertible. My pride and joy, and an irreplaceable classic.

We had finished work at lunchtime on Friday, and were heading off for a weekend out of town. The roof was down, we had finished packing our suitcases in the back, and we were ready to roll. Both of our cars were parked behind Marie's house, and I was quickly checking that everything inside was right to leave, when I heard an almighty crash. I sprinted for the back door in time to see Marie's SUV with its hefty rear towbar frozen in a hideous embrace with the front of my Mustang. As I watched in horror, Marie engaged drive, and separated the vehicles, the tongue of the towbar nearly tearing off my front wing as it broke free. I raced to my car, stunned by the amount of damage to the front end, and with a dangerous fury building inside me, fanned by the fact that the only damage evident on Marie's car was a cracked taillight.

She stepped out of the car and came back to me. "I'm so sorry, Michael - it isn't too badly damaged, is it?" I felt something inside my head snap. "What the hell did you think you were doing? You've got two acres to turn around in. How could you not see a bright red car parked right there? Do you know how hard it is to get panels for these things? You stupid mindless cunt. How could you be so fucking moronic as to do this?"

I ran out of steam and paused, panting, light-headed with rage, then Marie finally spoke, her voice quivering with fury. "Thank you for your concern, Michael, I was not hurt. Now, please tell me, if you would be so kind, why it is that you choose to describe me as a cunt? I am interested to know whether you are so contemptous of women that you regard that crude term for our sex organs as the most derogatory word in your vocabulary; or whether in your mind my significance to you begins and ends with what I carry between my legs."

That did it. "You smart-ass bitch", I snarled as I grabbed her by the throat, pushing her against the side of her SUV. I clenched my fist. "You need to watch that mouth, or I might close it for you". As I pushed my face against hers, I saw a blaze of fury in her eyes and she shifted her weight, freeing her right arm and bringing it up in an astonishingly powerful punch at the side of my neck. I released her throat, slightly dazed, not seeing the second punch that dropped me to my knees, swaying as the darkness descended over me.

I gradually swam into a strange state of wakefulness. It was dark, and everything felt wrong. A million miles away I heard the muffled but familiar sound of an alarm clock. I felt movement around me, and the sound ceased. I heard Marie moan very close by, then felt myself changing position, my face flat against cotton fabric. It was only a sense of changing position, as I didn't feel any of my muscles working. But I could definitely feel soft fabric against my face, and sensed that I was face down. My lips felt strange and unresponsive, and a sudden upheaval around me dragged the fabric against my face again, this time ruffling my beard and giving me another sensation of changing position. I heard the alarm restart , and Marie's protesting moan , before the noise was muted again.

Suddenly my entire world was thrown into turmoil. It felt as if I was on a roller coaster going in all directions at once, before again settling down. This time, I came to rest in what seemed to be a fairly upright position. I still couldn't feel any of my body except my face, but this time the darkness seemed to be gone, and although the soft fabric was still tight against my face, I could see light shining through it. The fabric seemed to be some sort of gag, as it was now pulled tightly against my lips, squashing them into my mouth. Just as this thought struck me, I realised that my mouth felt different. I could still feel my tongue, but it seemed short, as if it was just the tip, and it seemed to be fastened under my top lip. My jaws really didn't seem to have any substance to them, and my mouth seemed to be all lips.

I tried to move my tongue to explore my mouth, and heard Marie give a little giggle. It was the strangest sound - seeming to come from all around me, and I again sensed movement beside and beneath me and saw a shadow move behind the fabric over my eyes. I felt pressure against my entire face, the fabric pushed hard against my lips. "Now, sweetie, just behave, and don't go exerting yourself until you've fully woken up". What on earth was happening to me? Great chunks of memory came crashing back. The fight, Marie hitting me. What had she done to me?

My world went into turmoil again, and I felt myself rising quickly, hovering for a second, and then falling back down with a stomach turning swoop. As I fell, the veil over my face disappeared, and I felt cool air swirling around me, making me realize how warm and damp my cheeks and lips had become. I came to rest again in the same position as before, but this time realized I was sitting in front of a huge image of Marie, my eyes at her knee level, staring up the skirt of her nightdress. As I watched, I saw her hand lift the skirt of her nightie, and move in toward her pussy. At the last moment, my vision was obscured as a huge pink mass floated in and bumped against my face.

Suddenly I felt my lips being lightly stroked, then they were gently parted and what felt for all the world like a finger slipped between them. The finger ran up and down the length of my mouth, tickling me. A warm feeling of wellbeing replaced my disquiet, and I felt my mouth dampen. Very gently, that finger ran around the outside of my lips, slipping in and out, and spreading the dampness around my entire mouth. The fingertip ran up to my top lip, sliding in to gently brush my tongue, which sent a pleasurable shock through me. Then, it made its way down again, tickling and teasing at my lips, parting them slightly. The pleasant feeling was growing, overriding concern at my predicament, my attention focussed completely on that finger, and what it was doing between my lips. The dampness in my mouth had increased to a point where I was nearly drooling, moisture flowing to that wonderful, teasing finger.

A second finger slid easily in to join the first, and the pair of them began to again tour the inside of my mouth, moving their way up, and gently sliding themselves over my tongue again, giving me another jolt of concentrated pleasure. As before, the fingers moved back down along my lips, and I began hoping desparately that a third finger would join them to fill the aching emptiness of my mouth.

Suddenly, the fingers disappeared, along with the pink mass which had been obscuring my vision, and I again had a sense of movement. The image of Marie returned, but changed slightly as she bent toward me. I was now looking up her skirt and down her top at the same time, seeing those magnificent breasts swing down towards me, a hint of a big brown nipple showing as she brought her face to mine. The images mixed with the warm, damp feeling of excitement in my mouth to make me forget my confusion about what was happening to me, and to wish that those fingers would come back. "So, Michael", Marie asked sweetly, "have you worked out what is going on?" I tried desperately to open my mouth to talk, and was rewarded with a slight sensation of movement. Marie giggled . "That's good, Michael, try harder". Putting all my effort into it, I tried again to move my lips, and felt a slight quiver, prompting another giggle from Marie, but there was no way I could articulate words, and really, all I wanted was for those fingers to come back into my mouth.

I think this was the moment that I began to understand what had happened, and my mind spun at that realization. Somehow, I had become fused with Marie, and was now her most intimate part. As if taunting me, those hateful words I had thrown at Marie replayed themselves to me - "You mindless cunt".

With a sudden rolling sensation, I found myself staring up towards the ceiling, with a pair of thighs and knees bracketing my vision. Marie was lying on her back, and I again saw the pink mass which I now recognized as her hand come floating down to place itself over my face, a fingertip naturally resting itself between my lips, with another finger on each side of my mouth. The finger between my lips resumed its lazy wandering up and down, gently brushing sensitive flesh, nudging my tongue.

"So, Michael, have you managed to work it out yet?", I heard Marie ask softly. That finger was strolling leisurely along each lip, and I felt them moistening further with my drool, the soft skin of my lips becoming hot and swollen. Suddenly, the lone finger was joined by another, and they both slipped deeply into my mouth, hooking against the roof and prompting a sudden warm and pleasant surge through my whole being. At the same time, I felt the palm of Marie's hand press firmly against my top lip, releasing all kinds of sensations from my little tongue. "OK, sweetie, now's your chance to talk to me. One bite if you think you know what is going on, or two if you've got no clue." I tensed my mouth, and bit down hard on her fingers, feeling a slight sensation of clenching as I did so. "That's one", said Marie. "Do you want to try again, or do you think you know what's going on? No? ". Marie gave a little giggle, and said in mock disappointment "Oh dear, that is terrible. It looks like I did the spell all wrong. I wanted to turn you into a mindless cunt, which is what you called me, if you remember. But now I've gone and turned you into a clever cunt instead."

Her giggle turned into a mocking laugh as she started rubbing her fingertips against the roof of my mouth again, making a strange excitement take hold of my whole body. My lips began to swell slightly and become more sensitive, and I could feel my mouth drooling around her fingers. "But you really don't care about any of that at the moment, do you? All you really want is for me to keep doing this, isn't it, sweetie. You aren't really a clever cunt are you? You don't care that Michael no longer exists. You don't even care that your life as you know it has finished. All you care about is whether I am going to keep moving my fingers or keep them still." Much as I hated to admit it, Marie was right. All I could think about at that moment was those fingers in my mouth, and the warm, full feeling that was starting to suffuse my entire body.

As those fingers gently massaged the inside of my mouth, I felt a tension - almost a shortness of breath, even though I knew I was no longer breathing. The palm resting above what I now knew to be my clit started to rub gently, as the two fingers began to slide in and out of my mouth. As the fingertips slid over that sensitive spot on the roof of my mouth, I felt the sensation of breathlessness intensify as the pleasant tension building deep within me expanded to fill my entire being. Nothing else mattered to me at that moment, not the fact that I had lost my entire identity, nor the indignity that Marie had imposed on me, nor even shame for my actions that had led to my predicament.

All that mattered was those fingers sliding in and out of my drooling mouth. The pair of fingers were joined by two more, and the rippling mass of digits stretched my lips and cheeks and flickered over the inside of my mouth. Suddenly, I began to convulse. The warmth which had suffused my body turned to a consuming heat. The tension which had been building inside me suddenly released, and I was filled with an amazing ecstatic feeling of wellbeing. My mouth clenched down on the fingers, and the heel of Marie's hand ground hard over my clit, rubbing hard, and making my entire body twitch, tense and move without any control. Harder and harder, I clenched. I felt my drool running down my lips toward where my chin seemed to be. I gulped, bit and shook, feeling as if I was throwing my entire body from side to side as waves of pleasure ran over me.

Still the fingers stayed in my mouth, the pressure on my clit remaining, as the first set of convulsions eased. As I started to regain control of myself, the fingers again started moving gently. The tension started to build inside me again. I gave up all sense of dignity and let my mouth hang open, my lips hot and swollen and running with my own moisture. The fingers rewarded me by moving faster and faster as I felt the convulsions start again. They were less intense this time, but seemed to go on forever. I gulped, choked, trembled, bit down and tried to swallow those beautiful fingers as I rode a second wave of sensations. I felt Marie rocking her hips in concert with me, as I twitched and flinched my way through my second orgasm.