Malevolent Marci

We finished off a two-thirds full bottle of wine, then each took a shower and dressed in somewhat skimpy, but appropriate, clothes for bed, and got under the covers. I made a big hit with Marci by laying on one side of the bed and heating it up while she was showering, and since she was actually polite and asked if she could take the side that I had warmed up I said "Yes," and she answered with a giggled "Thank you."

I think that she had giggled more that night than all of the other years I had known her combined.

The combination of the noise of the wind blowing against the motel room windows, our strenuous exercise walk, and the wine, had me asleep -- a safe distance from Marci -- shortly after my head hit the pillow.

After the passage of an indeterminate period of sleep I found myself in the middle of one of the most beautiful dreams of my life, which was also the most realistic one. I was fucking Gail doggy while a vibrator was energizing her ass and through it my cock. I swear that I could actually feel her pc muscles pulsating on my cock, giving me the most erotic feeling that I had ever experienced. I swear that not only was the feeling realistic but accompanying sounds were, including flesh slapping on flesh and low moans and groans, at least some of which were coming from me.

My eyes snapped open just as I was cumming with the force of a howitzer. I hallucinated that Gail was on top of me, moaning, and I instinctively reached my hands out and grabbed onto her bare tits, which seemed to have been the source of flesh slapping flesh.

It wasn't until I was halfway through my ejaculation that I realized that I wasn't in a realistic dream; it was reality. Obviously there was no way to stop at that point so I grunted and ejaculated some more jism while mauling the ponderous tits in my hands. Only after my last salvo, and the massive tits came smashing into my chest, did I regain real cognizance.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," I mumbled in four or five sets of three. I knew that I had just fucked my evil sister-in-law.

I really wanted to feel bad about it -- especially when I caught myself stroking the side of her right tit with my left hand while I felt a pussy lip -- with my cock still planted in her pussy -- with my right hand; somehow, I couldn't, however.

I knew that I had to get out of this position as gracefully as possible -- "maybe she's fucking in her sleep and won't remember" -- I tried to delude myself. I was about to push her off when she disengaged my cock from her pussy, causing a sharp jolt of pleasure to shoot through my spine into my brain, Within seconds she was sucking my cock like it was the last lollipop in the world and she was starving. While I had started to soften slightly this quickly brought me back to full mast and when she said "Fuck me doggy" my body followed her order even though my mind was screaming "Don't you dare fuck that bitch!"

My body overruled my mind, and soon I was buried balls deep in Marci's pussy and banging away as her pendulous tits slapped into each other providing one of the most erogenous sounds I had ever heard in my life.

After a long ejaculation into Marci's tight pulsating cunt where we both came like B-52s taking off, we collapsed in a heap on the bed. I felt her grab the blankets and cover us up as she burrowed into my chest, and I remember thinking that I had to feel guilty and had to somehow remedy this the next day, but my mind was too awash in endorphins at that moment to do anything else except to sigh and pull her closer to me. Then I quickly drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning the first thing that I saw was a naked Marci walking out of the bathroom drying herself off, undoubtedly right after having showered. I had seen her in a bikini twice before, and both times my spontaneous thoughts really disturbed me, but in total nakedness she was even more sexy. She looked like a fucking goddess!

"Wake up stud," she cackled, "it's after 10 o'clock and checkout time is noon. We need to eat breakfast and then have a nice fuck before we get on the highway and hope that the rural road to the rented house is passable.

As my pea brain was waking up I thought "What? Did we really fuck -- twice last night? Does she really want to fuck again?" Apparently I was staring at her naked goddess-like body while thinking because she sprouted a fiendish grin and then cackled "From the look on your face it appears that you want to snack at the Y, and then fuck, before breakfast."

When Marci lay down on the bed with her legs apart and separating her labia with her fingers my cock and brain had an all-out battle for my blood. My cock won.

I dove into Marci's honeypot with vigor; at one point the question flashed through my mind of how someone so malevolent could have such a fragrant and tasty pussy, but the thought didn't linger because I was obsessed with giving her an orgasm so that I could relieve the pain of my dick getting steel hard. She shortly came like a freight train, and once she did I unceremoniously shoved my cock up her tight cunt.

After about five or six strokes of my cock in her vagina she seemed to regain her senses and then she started moving her pussy like a peristaltic pump. It was a sensation I had never felt before and in short order I had the most intense climax of my life while she screamed in orgasm into my shoulder.

It was a good fifteen or twenty minutes before I regained complete awareness and the orgasmic aftershocks had subsided. The thought "I've never experienced a peristaltic pump pussy before," kept rampaging through my brain. "Maybe I'll have to start calling her Triple-P instead of Malevolent Marci," I apparently concluded.

When we both regained complete cognizance Marci smiled, passionately kissed me on the lips (for the first time not only that night and morning, but in her life) and then said "If my husbands could fuck like that I might still be married to one of the first two, or intend to stay with Wilton instead of bouncing him in the near future." Then, without further ado she got up.

She had another surprise, however. When she got up she pulled something white from her purse. It looked like a short larger diameter tampon -- almost like a cotton plug -- and inserted it into her vagina. "I want to keep your jism in my cunt a few more hours," she cackled, and then went into the bathroom to get dressed.

I lay on the bed, naked, staring at the ceiling, my mind blown in so many ways that it was like I had been carpet bombed by a B-52. When Marci came out of the bathroom I went in, took a shower, and then dressed.

While we ate breakfast in our room Marci carried on a conversation just like we hadn't just fucked three times in the last ten hours and cheated on our spouses. My mind was still having trouble coming to grips with it. We took another walk in the snow, repacked our suitcases, and by then it was 11:51, so we got in my car and started back toward the road to the rental house.

When we got to the rural road the gate was open but there was a sign "Only four-wheel and all-wheel drive vehicles." We made it to the house in about forty five minutes without too much trouble, and were warmly greeted by all the relatives.

That afternoon we split into two groups. The Potter parents, Wilma, and Jack went downhill skiing; Gail, Marci and I went cross country skiing. We met back at the house before dark and the three Potter girls made a wonderful dinner and we toasted Wilma's and Jack's anniversary.

Marci never acted any differently toward me then she ever had before; while I was relieved I wondered "How could she fuck me three times and be so blasé about it?" but I didn't have angst about it, and guilt had not yet hit me.

I did get my favorite sex from Gail that night -- doggy with a vibrator. It was spectacular except for one thing. As I was about to ejaculate Marci's peristaltic pump pussy suddenly jumped into my mind, and I came with an almost unprecedented roar and discharge, apparently with enough intensity to make Gail pass out.

Once Gail regained her faculties she mumbled "Wow! You sure brought you're A game tonight. I think that my spine is now jelly," before she fell asleep on my shoulder.

I did not sleep well; guilt and angst were starting to set in. While I wasn't responsible for the first Triple-P fuck I was for the last two. I felt like a schmuck -- because I was one!

**************

The rest of the Wilma-Jack anniversary weekend proceeded as planned. The only fly in the ointment was that Marci drove back with Gail and I. Actually aside from my angst that Marci might say something revealing that turned out to be a good thing because the two sisters chatted the whole way and I was lost in my mind wondering what the fuck I could do to make it up to Gail and how to avoid contact with Marci in the future.

The next couple of times that I saw Malevolent Marci -- I started calling her that in my mind again since when I called her Triple-P the awesome sexual interlude I had with her caused me to be overcome with lust and then guilt -- she was no different than normal around me and as far as I could tell didn't even hint at what had happened at Room 15 of the No-Tell Motel.

The first signs of Spring were emerging when about ten weeks after the infamous ski trip I got a call at my office from Marci -- a first.

"Hi stud, this is your favorite fuck toy," was the awful and embarrassing way that she started out the conversation.

"What do you want, Marci?" I deadpanned after a delay.

"Oh, so I am your favorite fuck toy," she cackled.

"No, I just saw your name on caller ID," I vacuously responded.

"You're no fun; anyway, I have some good news for you. Should I come to your office, you want to meet in a park, or you want to take me to lunch?"

"Can't you tell me over the phone?"

"Not a chance; one of those three options."

After a delay I replied, after looking at my schedule, "OK how about tomorrow afternoon after 1:30 near the carousel at Grant Park."

"I'll see you there at 2:00 p. m.," she chuckled and then terminated the call.

Fortunately I was busy enough that I couldn't concentrate on what she could possibly want so I didn't have any angst until the next afternoon. I made it to Grant Park by 2:02, and easily found her sitting on the closest bench to the carousel.

I knew that I would not like what I was about to hear when she stood up with a big smile on her face, smashed her mammaries into my chest and kissed me on the lips. We sat down, she made small talk for a while, and then got to the point.

"Two bits of good news, Blake. The first is that I filed for divorce from Wilton," she grinned.

"Why is that good news?" I cautiously asked.

"Because he'll be out of the picture before I start to show and won't interfere with me raising our son," she grinned like a bushel-full of opossums.

"Say what?" I gagged.

"Yeah -- you really did the job at the No-Tell Motel; only three fucks during my fertile period and you had knocked me up. Great work stud!"

After a long delay where I stared at her trying to determine if she was being her malevolent self or if she was serious I finally stuttered out "You...you...you're not...not...serious...are you?"

"Of course I'm serious. I thought for sure when you were fucking me that I told you that I was in my fertile period and unprotected!" she grinned.

I didn't believe her, but given how blown my mind was at that time if she had said that it probably wouldn't have registered. That would explain why she plugged up her pussy after our third fuck, however.

"Ha...ha...how do you know it's...it's...not Wilton's?" I stammered.

"Four ways: I just had my IUD removed before our trip; I didn't let Wilton fuck me for two weeks after I got back using as an excuse that I didn't want him to hurt his back after his slip and fall that I engineered; I'm estimated to be ten weeks pregnant and our liaison was ten weeks ago; and -- drum roll -- I just had an in-vivo DNA test done and it's not Wilton's and the only other person I've had sex with besides him in the last six months is you. Aren't you excited?" she beamed.

I put my head in my hands and almost started crying. Marci kissed the back of my neck and said "Now don't be a wimp, Blake. I'm not going to tell anyone except our son -- who I'm going to name William Blake Potter, going back to my maiden name -- when he turns twenty one. I'm not expecting any financial commitment from you, just to teach him how to throw a baseball, and stuff like that; just be friendly and compassionate. That's not too much to expect, is it?"

"Why did you set me up Marci; why did you pick me to be your child's father. With your looks, despite your malevolent personality, you could have almost any guy in the world impregnate you," I moaned.

"Stop whining," she chuckled. "You're good breeding stock; you have the right blend of looks, smarts, and character to insure good kids."

"What do you mean kids with an 's'?" I asked.

She smirked "One never knows what life holds. Now answer my question. If I don't tell anyone you're the father, and don't ask for financial support since I'm already rich, will you play catch with our son and care about him?"

I sighed; "As long as you don't tell anyone else, that's not too much to ask. It seems that you planned this for a long time, however; how did you do it?"

"For me to know and for you to never find out," she laughed. "Now why don't you pull up your big boy pants and take your baby momma to a late lunch."

***************

In ideal world no one would ever find out, or even guess, that William Blake Potter was my son except for him when he was twenty one; and my happy marriage to Gail would be one for the ages; and Malevolent Marci would be only on the fringes of my life. As you know, however, it isn't an ideal world.

**************

Marci was the hottest pregnant woman in history; it seemed that she was born to be pregnant. She gained exactly the right amount of weight, had perfect muscle tone, glowed, never got morning sickness, and had a short delivery, about as painless as a natural birth could be. She had told the family that the father was some random guy who she had a one night stand with after she dumped Wilton, and given her history it seems that everyone believed her. All family members seemed willing to pitch in.

I didn't have to interface much with Marci during the first six months of her pregnancy which was fine by me both because I disliked her personality and hated the lascivious reaction my nether regions had when I was around her because she was so hot. At the start of her trimester the situation changed. Shortly after she was seven months pregnant Marci talked Gail into asking me to go to Lamaze classes with her, and Gail, being the wonderful loyal sister that she was, cajoled me into doing it.

It was so goddamn painful being around Marci during the Lamaze classes while she did her pants and blows and absorbed every bit of information about the birthing process and parenthood that she could. All of the other males in the Lamaze class drooled looking at her especially since she insisted upon wearing provocative clothing. I spent most of the classes trying to hide my stiffy. Marci wasn't mean to me during this time, but she reveled in teasing me, and would kiss my blushing face every time she said "I'm so happy to have my baby's birth father with me."

Since I was her coach I also went with her into the delivery room. Fortunately I didn't have to watch the actual birthing process, but I became emotional when little William Blake Potter was put into his mother's arms and the realization that he was mine hit me like a baseball bat smacking into my forehead. Of course Gail, Wilma, and the Potter parents were at the hospital too, and things went so well with the delivery that they actually got to see Momma and baby within two hours of his birth, while I went to the chapel and wept.

I ended up going to see William at least once a week, and when he was a toddler at least twice. I enjoyed being with him; it disturbed me, however, that every time I went to see him that Marci gave me a big hug and kiss which induced an unwanted spontaneous reaction at my crotch.

************

Surprisingly, my own mother unknowingly caused my undoing. I saw no reason to mention it before, but my irises have a very unusual color. They're grey, and less than 1% of the Caucasian population in the United States has grey eyes. I also have strawberry blond hair, which is the least common shade of blond.

My parents were visiting along with the entire Potter clan (including seven month pregnant Wilma) at Gail's and my house one Sunday. I was pretending to be the tickle monster while chasing 20 month old William when he ran over to my mother and squeezed her legs while he squealed in delight as he tried to escape from me. She stared into his face and blurted out "Blake, he looks just like you did at that age, especially his eyes and hair; he could be your clone."

Fortunately I reached William and started tickling him right after that proclamation so I thought that it might have been lost in his squeals of laughter. However, later on that day I saw Gail holding William while she and Wilma both seemed to be staring directly into his face and they weren't smiling; that was a bad sign!

A little more than three weeks after my mother's proclamation when I got home from work I saw Gail crying while sitting at the kitchen table with some papers in front of her and an opened FEDEX envelope. "What's the matter, darling?" I asked as I touched her on the shoulder.

She shrugged her shoulder away from my touch and handed me one of the pieces of paper in front of her. It was on the letterhead of a DNA laboratory, and after some gobbledygook in the middle of the page in bold letters it said "The individuals of Sample A and Sample B are closely related, most likely the individual of Sample A is the biological father of the individual of Sample B."

And with that one sentence my happy marriage to Gail Rogers, nee Potter, tanked. Of course the entire marriage didn't actually end in a day, or even six months; but that was when it died on the vine. I tried to salvage it, but despite Gail's loving and normally forgiving nature it was too much of an affront for her to take. Marci even did the first unselfish thing in her life that I ever witnessed and tried to take all of the blame; it didn't work. Within a year I had received my walking papers after agreeing to a 70-30 split of assets in Gail's favor in an attempt to salve my conscience.

Shortly after my divorce I moved to a city 500 miles away. While the main purpose for the move was to get away from the Potter family and the crushing memories of my fall from grace, by happenstance I also landed a better job as a supervisory mechanical engineer on some challenging projects. Even with only 30% of my married assets, with the raise my new job provided I easily got a mortgage on a nice three bedroom house in a close-in suburb of the big city that I worked in.

The second Saturday in my new house there was a knock on my door at about noon. I hadn't really had a chance to meet my new neighbors because I had been working so hard so I was quite surprised that someone would be knocking on my door. I opened it to see Marci, holding now almost three year old William in her arms. He screamed "Daddy" and virtually threw himself at me. I caught him and smothered him with kisses, moving into the house as I did so. Marci followed.

I played with William while Marci and I chatted about nothing in particular, except things as they related to William. I did mouth to Marci "Why are you here?"

She mouthed back "We'll talk when William goes down for his nap."