Marianne's Solution

(Thank you to Firebrain for her judicious comments: the scars will heal in time.x)

Marianne had a problem: in fact, several inter-related problems.

She was still getting used to the idea of being married to Pierre. He had swept her off her feet, and being essentially a down-to-earth, well-organised sort of person, she felt uncomfortable about this, though unquestionably exhilarated--like a little girl whirled into dizziness, giggling and frightened.

Her friend Élodie, whom she met most days for lunch in the café, thought when she introduced them that Pierre was exactly the right person to knock some of the irritating precision out of Marianne. Now, she suppressed a smile as they drank the rough house wine.

Pierre was a painter. How good he was, neither woman knew nor cared: they liked what he painted, of course, but they cared more for the fact that he was kind, lively, unpredictable, romantic, honest, independent and gorgeous. He was also very well-endowed, which was part of Marianne's problem --and, although she didn't know it yet, part of the solution.

Incidentally, Élodie knew all this because she and Pierre had had a short but delicious affair some months before the fateful party. She had said nothing of this to Marianne, who knew nonetheless by intuition and didn't mind. In fact it made it easier to talk to her about her problem.

Marianne had not expected to get married at all-- let alone to someone like Pierre. He was the exact opposite of her. Alone in her small appartment, she had led a very organised life. She had affairs of course—she was as experienced as the next girl—but she kept them neatly compartmentalised in her life. She was ambitious and she took her work seriously. Some time ago, she had joined a publishing house in the rue Belle Île, a short walk from the café, and she had prospered there. She had been very contented. Occasionally, she allowed herself a therapeutic fuck but generally she kept her natural urges in check with her slender fingers. She earned a lot of money and wanted for nothing.

And then, at Élodie's party, she had found herself instantly mesmerised by the charming hulk in the paint-spattered rugby shirt. She was quite prepared to fuck him straight away and was afterwards puzzled as to how she had gone home alone. And she had agreed to pose for him!

I must be mad,she thought as she woke alone in her bed. She had wanted to have an athletic fuck with Pierre and then walk away, as was her wont. Somehow, she felt cheated.

The following Sunday, she found herself in a sunlit atelier in a scruffy arrondisement, surprisingly fully-clothed and uncomfortably still while Pierre, who alternated between intense silence and affable charm, made endless sketches. When she once again found herself at home and untouched, she felt as if she had an unreachable itch on a phantom limb.

All week, the sensation persisted. She found she couldn't wait for the following Sunday. Then the same thing happened, and the next Sunday, until Marianne thought she would go mad. She was in a perpetual sexual torment and for once even her clever fingers failed to douse the flames.

By the fourth Sunday, Marianne could stand it no longer. While Pierre was distracted gathering his drawing materials, she stripped off her clothes. And then? When Pierre turned and saw her naked? He gestured for her to sit on the threadbare sofa, took up his pad, and began to draw. For hours he sketched, speaking only to ask her to adopt a new pose, while in the poorly heated atelier Marianne froze from her skin to her heart. In the pose she had currently-- recumbent on the sofa with her legs pulled up--she thought of her miserably yearning pussy, of how it must be open and visible to Pierre, and she wonderedWhat is wrong with me?

Suddenly, she became aware of an unusual silence: Pierre often worked silently, but that silence was filled with the strokes of pencil or charcoal or brush--which were no longer there. Marianne opened her eyes and looked at him. His eyes were drawn from their contemplation of her pussy to hers.

"You're very beautiful," he said, and then his hands were on her thighs, pulling her down and around until her buttocks were on the edge of the sofa, her legs held up and apart, her pussy open to him. She felt helpless under his calm smile. Slowly, he lowered his face to her sex. His tongue felt incredibly hot on her chilled flesh, but she quickly warmed and moistened as he spread her folds and delved into her depths.

Marianne would never forget that first orgasm, lying hot and cold on the uncomfortable, tickly sofa. She screamed loudly, almost passed out. When she regained her senses, Pierre was still gently lapping the juices that poured out of her, wetting her bottom and the sofa beneath. She took his head between her hands and brought his mouth up to hers so that they could kiss. She thrilled at the taste and smell of herself on his mouth.

Together, they removed his clothes. As he stood to take off his jeans, Marianne got her first sight of his penis swaying before her face. It was huge: long and thick, the biggest she had ever seen. She had a moment of doubt, of worry: then she thought,what the hell, it's perfect!and she reached out for it. It wasn't easy to get even the head of it in her mouth but she'd learnt a thing or two about cocksucking in her life, and Pierre was very excited, so it wasn't long before he came. She caught most of his pulsing sperm in her mouth but there was just too much and she pulled away to let the last spurts splash on her face and breasts. She felt immensely aroused.

Pierre carried her to the bed and they warmed themselves beneath the covers until he brought his penis to her wet pussy and began to push. Ah! What a familiar feeling that had become.

"He completely fills me up. I've never felt anything like it," Marianne whispered when Jean-Charles, the café owner took away their plates and was safely out of earshot. Élodie remembered that feeling well.

"It sounds wonderful," she said. "So-- what's the problem?"

Marianne took a deep breath and then an even deeper gulp of her wine. She had always enjoyed sex and she was certainly no prude, but the sex she had with Pierre was something else. She couldn't get enough of him, and had startled herself by jumping at his proposal of marriage. And he was such a considerate lover. Aware that his size presented a challenge to her, he always ate Marianne to at least one orgasm before he penetrated her. She, in return, loved to do things to him.

She had become adept at sucking him and now prided herself on taking at least half of his immense penis in her mouth. She loved to make him come between her shapely breasts and attributed her good skin tone to the prodigious amounts of sperm he ejaculated over them. She had encouraged him to try different positions and particularly enjoyed being taken from behind, when she could feel his size to shattering effect. He too loved this position. He loved her bottom, kissing and licking it before he penetrated her, caressing it while he fucked her and sometimes withdrawing to come in the valley between her cheeks.

And here lay the fundamental problem which Marianne had been steeling herself, with alcohol, to talk about with her friend.

"Well.....Pierre wants to fuck me in my bottom." There, she had said it. She looked around quickly to make sure no one had heard her. But when she looked at Élodie, her friend looked annoyingly unfazed.

"So?" was all Élodie said.

Marianne's hands shook as she lit a Marlboro. Élodie's frank stare discomforted her.

"Marianne, are you telling me you've never had it up the arse before?"

"No, of course not!"

"But why not? It's wonderful! I let all my lovers bugger me."

"Élodie!"

"I find it incredibly sexy and exciting."

"But doesn't it hurt?"

"A bit, at first. But it soon passes, if your lover is patient. I find it helps if I touch my pussy at the same time.....Well don't look so shocked!"

"But I never thought....you...."

Élodie blew out her cheeks.

"Bof, come on!" With a sly smile, she went on. "You should have seen me last night! Jean-Marc had already fucked me twice—he's so strong!-- and then he told me to stand up and bend over. I knew straight away what he wanted. While I braced myself against the dressing-table, I could hear the squelchy sounds of him oiling his cock. Then I felt the head against my little hole, a gentle push and—hopla!—he was buggering me. He was gentle at first, but once I was relaxed and used to his size, he really fucked my arse. I kept thinking of how he could see my anus stretched tight around his cock—God, I came like so much I.....!"

Élodie burst out laughing. Marianne was bright red.

"I never took you for a prude," she giggled.

"I am not a prude!" Marianne replied hotly, "It's just so....." Her pretty nose was wrinkled in disgust.

"Dirty? Oh Marianne, you pee from your pussy, don't you? But you'd be very cross if Pierre didn't lick you out. You seem happy enough to suck his cock, and you know what elsethatdoes!"

"But he's just so big!"

Élodie pondered this. She knew perfectly well how big Pierre was, but that hadn't stopped her accepting his monster in her tiny back hole. It had been a mind-blowing experience. Conscious of the disproporion in size, Pierre had been slow and gentle and her tightness had made him come almost as soon as he was fully sheathed. She had had an intense orgasm. When, the following morning, she had woken to find Pierre again pushing at her anus, she was relaxed enough to take him more easily: intense orgasm repeated. She could hardly walk for the rest of the day but just thinking about that carnal act made her wet. She could hardly tell Marianne that though.

"I agree that, from what you have told me, Pierre's size could be a problem...." she began tentatively, "...but it's not insuperable. I've had very large men in my bum and lived to tell the tale." Élodie looked at her friend chewing her lip, flushed from the wine and the intimate conversation. She sensed that there was another aspect to these revelations. "Anyway," she said,"you and Pierre obviously have a terrific sex life without sodomy, so what's the problem? Has he threatened to throw you out if you don't give him your little bottom?"

Marianne took a deep breath.

"No, he hasn't", she said, "but my boss has."

"You haven't met my boss, Gregoire," Marianne began. "He took over from Laurent about six months ago. He'd been working in New York and the company brought him in to shake things up—you know; reorganise, improve efficiency, gear up for new technologies, sack a few people. Almost the last thing Laurent did was to make me head of Interactive, so I thought I was well placed for any changes Gregoire might make.

"And so, I was. Interactive was the big thing. My workload exploded. Every day I was in some meeting with Gregoire, striking new deals. My budget grew ten-fold. Gregoire began to talk of further promotion, possibly a seat on the board.

"Then, you remember, a few weeks ago we went to the Book Fair in Frankfort, Gregoire and I. We had dinner at the hotel and he told me about his plans. He wants to float Interactive as a seperate company with its own CEO."

"You?"

"Yes...if I became his mistress."

"I see."

"We'd gone to his suite for a nightcap. He said it straight out, no beating about the bush. He was very......persistant." Marianne went quiet.

"And what did you say?"

"I told him I was happily married and that I had no intention of being unfaithful to my husband. Then he said he would sack me if I didn't sleep with him."

"Bastard."

"I played for time. I didn't....I don't want to lose my job. I thought there might be....another way."

Élodie blew a very unladylike raspberry.

"What other way is there with men like that?" She caught a certain look in Marianne's eyes. "Well,isthere?" Marianne looked very guilty.

"It depends what you mean by being unfaithful, I suppose."

It was Élodie's turn to look shocked. "What exactly do you mean, you little minx?"

Marianne suddenly got angry.

"Well, what was I to do? I mean, he went on and on, he wouldn't let me go. He even got his penis out.to show me how aroused he was by me."

"Really? What was it like?"

" Élodie...."

The two women looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Look," said Marianne, finally getting her giggles under control. "You know me. I'm practical, pragmatic. What is being unfaithful? As far as I'm concerned, no man but Pierre is ever going to put his cock in my pussy. But there are other things....". More giggles. "He went on so long, eventually I let him put my hand on his cock. And it was a nice cock, if you really want to know. Long, not too thick."

"A pretty handful," giggled Élodie.

"I was still protesting, still trying to get out, but I had his cock in my hand and I couldn't help but stroke it. It's just the natural thing to do."

"Yeah, right!"

"And he was so fired up he came in my hand. Ruined my dress!"

"And then?"

"He let me go."

Élodie looked at her quizzically.

"Well, I promised I would think about it. I just wanted to get away, but of course we were on a three day trip, so I couldn't. Next day, it began again."

"And?"

Marianne took a deep breath.

"Well, we sort of came to an agreement. He would keep me on and groom me for promotion and I would go to bed with him and let him do anything he wanted--except fuck me."

"An agreement? Sounds more like a business deal!"

"Well it is!" Marianne was surprised her friend couldn't see the eminent practicality of it.

"And what do you do exactly?"

"Oh,come onÉlodie. Do I have to spell it out?"

Silence.

"Oh well." Marianne blushed again. "I suck his cock—a lot. What with him and Pierre, it's a good job sperm's not fattening, the amount I've swallowed. And I use my hands and my breast-- even my feet, once or twice."

"And what does he do to you?"

"Well, I let him lick me. He's very good at it, actually."

Élodie snorted.

"Marianne, you do surprise me. I'd always thought you were such an innocent young woman. So, something has obviously happened to spoil this happy arrangement or you wouldn't be sitting here spilling the beans to me."

Marianne's face was serious, and Élodie struggled to keep hers straight.

"Since we have....non-penetrative sex, some lubrication is usually necessary. Well....he likes to oil me."

"Nice."

"It is actually. It means he can use any part of my body for his pleasure, and he has a particular liking for rubbing himself between the cheeks of my arse... that's what started it."

"His urge to fuck your tight little bum?"

"He said that if I wanted to protect my pussy, it was the perfect answer. I refused, of course."

"Of course."

"Well wouldn't you? No, I suppose you wouldn't. Anyway it is nowtheissue."

"Sodomy or the sack?"

"Exactly. The thing is, I've gone so far I don't know how to get out of it. I want to keep my job, and I want to keep my pussy for Pierre. What can I do?"

" Let him bugger you."

"Oh Élodie, no. I couldn't!"

"Marianne, think about it. You feel guilty because Pierre wants to bugger you and you won't let him. If you let Gregoire take your arse you'll keep your jobandfind out whether you like it. And if you do it often enough, Pierre's cock won't seem so frightening. He can fuck your little arsehole and you willallbe happy. See? Simple."

"Bof!" said Marianne, contemptuously.

Denise, Gregoire's secretary, smiled wanly as she ushered Marianne into the top-floor office. Marianne wondered if Gregoire fucked her too. Gregoire was as business-like as ever. She thought how handsome he was, thank God: 45, or thereabouts, greying slightly, compact. His grey suit fitted him very well. She wondered if he was wearing the Gucci loafers he was so fond of. Yes, a bit ridiculous, Gregoire, but definitely attractive.

"What can I do for you, Marianne?"

Her heart fluttered as she removed the small tube of lube from her jacket pocket and placed it carefully on the desk in front of him.

"I want you to dictate a letter of promotion. Now."

She looked him squarely in the eye. His face had that taut look she had first seen in the hotel room in Frankfort. With one movement, he pocketed the tube with his right hand whilst his left pressed the intercom key.

"Denise, please join us. Bring your pad."

With the announcement of her new position on its way to the rest of the company-- and Denise instructed to ensure they were not disturbed while they mapped out future strategy--Marianne could think of no other reason to delay.

With Élodie's words still tumbling round in her head, she had spent last night making wild and passionate love with Pierre. Late in the night, hotly aroused, she had ridden him as she liked so much, and she felt his finger rub across her anus, a sensation not at all disagreeable. She had found herself saying "Yes, put it in", and he had, and she had felt hot and tight around his finger. She was so close to coming it pushed her over the edge, and she knew what he was thinking and she wanted to as well, but she knew she would never be able to until she rid herself of her fear first. Even Pierre's finger felt enormous up there. So she had made up her mind and this morning had stopped at the Drugstore on her way to work and bought the fateful tube.

She trembled as she undressed in that soulless office, both with the thought of what she was about to do and at the look of lust on Gregoire's face as he too. They had not kissed or even touched. When they were naked, they looked at each other across the big desk. Her eyes dropped to his erect penis and she wondered what the hell she was doing. But it was too late for that now. Coyly, she turned her back to him, letting him gaze at her pretty bottom, glancing over her shoulder at him. Abruptly, Gregoire swept the papers from his desk, clearing the battlefield. She walked on tiptoe round to his side and, still without touching him, lay back on the cool leather surface. She pulled her legs up and open.

"I need to come first...several times, I should think."

He needed no second invitation and she made him keep at it for quite some time, coming again and again until the desk beneath her was sticky with her juices. Then she pulled her knees up to touch her breasts, exposing the darker bud of her anus.

"I need your tongue first."

It was a command really, and to give him credit, he didn't hesitate, though she was glad she had thought to wash herself thoroughly in the bidet before coming up here. It felt so strange when his tongue pushed past her sphincter, but Marianne couldn't deny the excitement she felt as well. In this position, his nose penetrated her pussy and his forehead rubbed against her clitoris, so she soon came again. His tongue felt deeper inside her than she thought possible.

"Does Gregoire's nose in my pussy break my rule?" she thought as she shivered with the feelings, with coming so much, with this tongue doing this wonderful, unspeakable thing to her arse.

She growled with lust as she pulled his head away from her. She wanted it, now: she wanted to feel his cock in her dark, hot, tight hole. She pushed him back and stood up. Turning, she rubbed against him for a moment, feeling his stiff penis hard in the valley of her buttocks. Then she bent at the waist, taking her weight on her forearms, pushing her bottom up and out. She looked over her shoulder at him standing there, his eyes transfixed on her behind that was presented to him so alluringly.

"You'd better bugger me quickly, before I change my mind," she said.

As Gregoire coated his cock with the lube, Marianne saw his face contract and wondered if the thought of what he was about to do would be enough to make him come. It would save her bottom, but she had come so far she was actually relieved when she saw him control himself and move the shiny tip towards her upturned rear end.