Mary's Movie Night Ch. 05: Apocalypse Now

I blame Marlon Brando.

I'm standing on our doorstep with my mouth hanging open. My wife came out a short time ago as "asexual", but here she was declaring her desire to get pregnant and have a baby. How much wine did she consume? Still, I didn't really want another woman, or, as events seemed to be conspiring, women. I wanted the woman I had married and with whom I was still pretty much in love. I had to believe this whole thing with her therapist and the deal with the dowager neighbor lady was just a mistaken interlude.

So I kissed her, and she kissed back. I alternately followed and then lead her up towards our bedroom. She kissed me, and I kissed back. I held her and felt her body, warm, alive, beautiful next to me. I reached up to undo a sweater button and... snap. It was like a circuit breaker blowing.

Susan's a doctor, and, in fact is working to be a trauma surgeon. I swear she could order lunch while gluing a guy's arm back on. The crisp, analytical diagnostic mind took over, and, I swear, I could almost hear her thinking, "What we have here, Jim, is an acute case of sudden onset baby fever, complicated by chronic asexual response. See that the patient hydrates and gets plenty of bedrest."

What she actually did was step back, disengage, and sigh. Then she looked up and said: "I'm sorry, honey. I led you on. I'll have to figure this out. Maybe an extra session with Ray..."

"Ray?"

"My therapist. Anyway, I'll have to figure out how we can conceive in our situation. For now... why don't you take that impressive boner down to the Widow McGill's place. Isn't that what we have our deal for? Spend the night, even. I need to figure some things out."

"Oh-kay," I replied. "Love you, hon."

"Love you too."

And then I'm slinking back out. I walk past the Batcher's place and the lights are off. I walk past Levon and Lakeisha's place and the lights are on their bedroom. I hurry past Mary's place, where the lights are on downstairs but where I have no desire to be spotted on my errand.

Cindy's place is dark.

I knock softly on the door. Nothing. I pull out my phone and text her.

A light comes on upstairs. Then some rattling around before, finally the front door cracks open.

"Didn't expect to see you tonight, junior." She's got on some sort of head wrap and she's wearing a long nightdress that leaves absolutely everything to the imagination. Maybe her toes peek out the bottom.

I explain the situation and she nods, adding, "You recall the rules, right?"

"Yep. No sex with Susan."

"But you were prepared to break the rule."

"It was a moment of weakness. But what am I supposed to do if she..."

"Nothing. She's given you the cold shoulder. You should be able to figure out how to return the favor."

"Now normally, I'd take the opportunity to give you further instruction on why you want to do that. But I'm tired. And we have other priorities we need to tend to as well. Why don't you go next door and finish what you started with the hippo?" She means Mary, of course. "You're going to have to avoid her fertile window next week and I still need to work on getting her out of our hair. Go on, I'll cover for you. As far as Susan is concerned, we shagged like minks all night."

With that, she closed the door in my face.

I slunk back to Mary's place. The lights are still on downstairs, but no evidence of Mary through the window. I'm hesitating. Honestly, I want to go home, even if it's to sleep on the sofa. The thought of actively pursuing Mary fills me with dread.

"Hsst. Knock on the door, stupid," Cindy hisses at me from her bedroom window.

Alright. I tap at the door.

There are footfalls in the hall. I hear the deadbolt unlatch. Then the door springs open and I bask in the eldritch horror.

Like Cindy, she's wearing a nightdress, only this one struggles to cover her frightening bulk. You don't need an imagination to color in what the blobs, bulges, and droopy protuberances of her fleshy body are. At least no tentacles are apparent. She sees that it's me and a feral smile lights up beneath her flat porcine nose and beady little eyes.

"I kind of, uh... need a place to crash tonight," I stutter out.

"Aw, baby, and you thought of me. Was wifey pissed that I was tugging on your wiener?"

"I don't think she knows about that. It's... something else."

"Well, don't stand there. We have unfinished business from earlier. You can crash in my bed, but you might not get any sleep."

I go in to my doom. The door latches behind me. The downstairs light switches off and I hear here treading the stairs at my back. Her bedroom, lit by a single bulb, beckons me. Into the pit of Tartarus I go.

Her bed is unmade and there is a damp spot right in the middle. Mary peeks over my shoulder and informs me, "I was pent up from our fun earlier. You should be proud: thinking of you makes me cum like a volcano."

I swallow once.

Her hands reach up from behind me, as she presses her body close. Her left hand is under my shirt and finds a nipple. She tweaks and brushes it with her fingers, making it pucker in response. It feels weirdly arousing--no one has ever played with me that way before.

No prize for guessing where the other hand is. There's some puckering in response there as well, an echo of the interrupted stimulation we'd had earlier. I feel oddly achy down there and it strikes me that I have a genuine case of blue balls. There's a massive load in there that needs to be expelled.

Mary bends me over the filthy bed and pulls my pants and underwear down. Her left hand is now stroking my cock to keep it hard while her other hand snakes back. She's poking my ass.

"It's not all about me, babe," she says. She licks her middle finger and then deftly shoves it into my virgin sphincter all the way to the second knuckle. I let out a high-pitched squeal, shocked and surprised at the violation. Her finger is practiced, and she is a virtuoso in playing my prostate. I am quivering with delirium, ready to erupt at her command.

She pulls the offending finger free, wiping it on the sheet. I'm rolling over, climbing onto the bed as she scrambles up behind me. In seconds I am buried inside her carnal hole, being ridden, all resistance gone. My hands are gripping her hips tightly. My thrusts up beneath her? Perfectly in sync with her pelvis's grind.

I shoot my seed into her.

Mary has a look of beatific bliss. I know she can feel the heat of my ejaculate filling her womb. I twitch my softening, yet still ripe, cock inside her, which puts a mischievous smile on her face. She responds with two quick vaginal squeezes.

"That was good practice for next week. Now clean your mess?" She pulls off and deftly flips around. The gibbous moon of her ass swells to eclipse the world. Between her mottled pimply butt cheeks, I see a pair of huge purple labial lips, distended with blood. The opening between them would be a dark cavern, but there is a pearlescent bolus of fresh hot semen clogging the entrance.

I reach up and guide her back, then the lights dim as an avalanche of thighs envelope my face. I thrust my mouth, tongue probing, up to meet Mary's pie.

Everything is dark and muffled, as my world is reduced to three senses. I smell the heated pheromones of a lusting woman with overtones of ass meat. I hear the squish and stir and squirt of her juices, the delicate moans of satisfaction, the creak of bedsprings shaken by enormous forces. But most of all I taste. A yeasty, somewhat rank tang of pussy. The oyster-like brine her of squirt. And the salty sweetness of my cream. I bury my face into her, trying to dive head-first into her womb.

My air is cut off and I'm drowning in Mary's nether end, worrying and pleasuring everything in reach, before shifting her aside just enough to gasp a mouthful of air. My tongue widens and swirls about her tiny clitoris, then slides back through the crevasse of her seeded fold, before stiffening to poke at a clenched brown hole. Gasp for air and reverse fields. Mary is rocking back and forth, keening her approval.

She cums. Three big long full body-shaking thigh-tensing shocks. She gushes a flood; it seems to come from everywhere. I drink it down, mixed with a taste of my own emission.

Mary collapses to one side and I slide around to face her. I let her taste our reproductive cocktail in a series of kisses.

We slept embraced like that for hours.

When I awoke, I needed desperately to pee. Silently I work my way out of Mary's arms, trying not to disturb her. I tip toe into the bathroom for relief.

I could escape. I have no idea of the hour. It's dark and the night is still. I creep back to her bed.

I pull the sheet and comforter up over Mary. In the dim lighting of the room, I look over her bulk and feel a tiny spark of protectiveness coupled with the horror of what I've done, the fuel I've thrown on her fire.

I slide in beside her, across the cold slick wet spot to find her warmth. My burrowing in awakens her, informs her that I've not only been away, but that I've come back and returned to her. Her arms welcome me.

"Hey, lover," she whispers.

"Hey," I reply, and we kiss lightly. A flopping mass of boob falls into one palm. A continent of thigh subducts my body. I feel contented to lay here, floating in this moment, save that there is a one part of me that is no longer sleeping. It's sending a firm message to my drowsing reptile brain.

I let Mary feel that part. Our kisses pick up steam. Then more steam. Each of us takes little gulps of air. I roll her gently on her back and she opens to me. Gently, gently, I slide back into her.

We move together like that for a long time, without urgency. Then, like cresting a hill, we pick up steam.

"Who's your giant brood mare?"

"Oh Mary!"

"Who fucks you hardest?"

"Oh Mary!"

"Who makes you cum all night long?"

"Oh Mary!"

We surge up together, and, for the second time I send a heavy load deep inside her. I have seen her calendar. This is not an entirely safe thing to do.

"I love you, daddy."

We fall back asleep in a lake of our own making.

The morning birdsong wakes me, sun streaming in an unfamiliar bedroom window. Mary has snuck out and is somewhere downstairs clattering in the kitchen. I can hear her humming to herself.

The bed is a sodden, destroyed mess. Her bedroom is a calamity of housekeeping failure. I sneak into the shower, then slip on clothes hastily discarded last night before confronting the situation.

Mary has a big mug of thin, tasteless coffee for me. "Good morning, daddy. I'm so glad you spent the night. You were amazing."

She's wearing the night dress and her hair is askew. She looks like a plump Medusa, and me without a mirror. I accept a peck on the lips, drink some quick swallows of the flaming battery acid she's given me, find my phone, and prepare to depart.

"Mary, that was an amazing night. Thank you for taking me in."

"Daddy, I'll take you... in... any time. Maybe someday soon you won't have to go to another home afterwards."

I step away with the feeling that I'm falling deeper in trouble with every moment.

Susan has left a text message: "Hope you two had fun (see no evil monkey emoji). Want your baby (baby emoji). Off to work (doctor emoji). Girls night tonight (dancing girls emoji). Oxo (heart emoji)". She thinks I've been with Cindy.

It's later than I like to start, but I slide into work with a curious feeling of satiation washing over me.

Around 11:00 my phone buzzed. It was Belle asking if I was free.

"Sure."

"Please come over? I need you."

"On my way."

Little Belinda waits for me in a white terrycloth bathrobe over peach colored silk pajamas. She looks distressed and she appears to have been crying. Her eyes are rimmed in red and there are tear tracks on her cheeks. But she puts on a brave face.

"You haven't congratulated me yet."

"Have you done something amazing?"

"Oh! No, not yet. It's, in fact, something YOU did."

"L'il ol' me?"

She parts the robe and lets it slip to the floor. She runs her hand up and down her belly. "Yep, you're going to be a daddy soon."

"What's wrong, Belle?" Her eyes are suddenly welling up with tears again.

"It's that... oh, daddy, I'm losing Peter. He's seeing another woman behind my back and I don't think he wants me anymore, now that I'm carrying your baby."

There is some irony here, since they've long advertised that they are swingers and since Belinda has, after all, been seeing me behind Peter's back in order to get knocked up. I suspect pointing this out won't help, so say instead, "Of course he wants you! He can't be that foolish."

"He spent all night last night shagging that Cindy McGill and he's been avoiding taking care of my needs since the news broke." This is an eye-opening assertion.

I take Belinda in my arms and hold her a good long time. Eventually, we take care of some of her needs.

Later, I text Cindy: "Peter? Really?"

"Babe, it's for your own good. I used protection. Hope you did too. XXX"

I go back to work, nodding my head. I get the sense that this house of cards that I've built is starting to wobble.

Susan bustles in at 6:30 and commences to ready herself for a night out with the neighbor ladies, half of whom will have panties still wet with our love making. But she drops the bombshell before she goes.

"I saw Ray today."

"Therapist Ray?"

"Yeah. And he had the best idea." She pulls a small plastic jar with a blue cap out of her handbag. It's a specimen jar.

"You want me to pee in a cup?"

"No, silly. I want you to put your, you know, in here. I can get A.I., you know, inseminated, at work. It's in our insurance, plus," she dimples, "I know a guy."

Hospital humor. The worst. "I don't know, Susan. I mean, couldn't we..."

"Ugh. No. Look, I need to go. Start thinking about it. It would totally solve our problem."

I avoid the problem all weekend, but Susan brings me the cup Monday morning. "C'mon babe, it'll take you five minutes."

"I'm not sure, honey."

"Well, think hard about it. I've gotta go."

Instead of that, I wander down to Cindy McGill's.

"I wondered when my bad penny would turn up."

"Going to rub me 'til I shine?"

"Might not stop then. Get in here before you catch cold." I git.

"So... Petey?"

"Oh, he's a mess of contradictions. What I'm doing with him won't affect us, at least in a bad way. Don't worry, he's going to support Belle and the three to five children you're gonna pump into her. Let me take care of it."

There's no sitting around sipping tea today. She's leading me up to the bedroom.

"I have a gift for you," she says. On her nightstand is a slim, square black box. "Open it up."

Inside is a black leather strap. It's woven of several strands and has silver fittings on each end with a sort of Celtic knot theme to them. I pick it up and it's obvious that they join into a loop.

"It's a... collar?"

"Yes. It's your collar."

"Looks a little small for me."

"It's your collar because it belongs to you. You put it around the throat of the woman you own, to show that she's yours." She stiffens her neck as she says this. It's pretty clear what neck needs owning.

"Before you put it on her, though, you should get a lock for it. So she can only remove it when you give her the key."

"Save it for now. I have something else we can play with today..."

She has fur-lined handcuffs at each corner of the bed. She has me disrobe and then secures me, spread-eagled and naked. Then she spends an hour taunting me--running a peacock feather up and down my body; pouring hot mineral oil in a trail around my nipples before massaging each of my, um, whatever you call a man's breasts; sticking her tongue in my ear while whispering the nastiest things she can think of doing. I am quivering and straining for release, my manhood painfully engorged, although she has not touched it even once.

Then, suddenly, she grabs a huge tube of KY and pours out a giant cold blob onto my cock, pulls up her housedress, and impales herself in one smooth motion. She rides me fast, undulating her stomach in rapid waves. I fill her in an instant.

Then she sends me on my way.

Walking back, there's an unfamiliar car in my driveway. It's an older green 3-series BMW convertible with the top down. There's a man standing by my front door.

"Pete and Belinda live next door," I try.

"Thanks," he says, "I think I'm looking for you, though. I'm Ray. Susan's counselor."

Counselor? "I think you know she's at work now."

"Yes. I'm here to see you. Can I come in?"

I offer coffee and we sit in the living room.

"I want to thank you for your care and understanding. Susan is such a special woman and it requires a lot of care when someone comes out as an 'ace'."

"Ace?"

"Asexual. It's a non-stigmatizing term."

"Cool. So what brings you here?"

"She needs your help with another matter. She naturally wants you to help her fulfill her reproductive needs."

"We've discussed it."

"Yes. What I need you to do is to go and fill the specimen cup for her. I can take it back to the clinic where she's waiting to receive it."

"You want me to what? No. No. Don't draw me a picture. What I don't understand is why you are here doing the asking and why this is so urgent."

"If she asked, you'd probably try to insist on natural insemination. You'd be adding to her guilt and devaluing her selfhood." The touchy-feely language was starting to get my back up. Susan and I hadn't had an actual proper conversation about having children or, even, her asexuality. Yet here I was talking to Ray? I fingered the black leather collar in my pocket.

"I think maybe we need to discuss it further."

"She's waiting now. It's an important day for her in her cycle."

"I'm trying to decide right now whether I should punch your lights out. Maybe you should take your jar and go. Heck, you could even fill it and take it to her. She'd never know the difference."

"I'm not sure that lying in that way would be ethical."

I show him the door without hitting him once.

When Susan did get home, she didn't mention it. I had to bring it up.

"Ray came by."

"Oh, yes, he said he might."

"So you didn't put him up to that?"

"He thought it would help. I'm sorry I didn't warn you." Then she changed the subject.

Mary and I settled on Apocalypse Now for movie night. I had thought we'd have full attendance, the better to avoid knocking her up. It had the opposite effect.

When I'd been in college, my roommates Jimmy Burns and Rajesh Gupta and I would regularly watch Apocalypse Now. We knew the dialog word-for-word. We had catch phrases we'd utter. Susan and I had been dating then and didn't understand the infatuation. "Aren't you done with it?" was all she said.

Peter and Belinda were still struggling with their issues and begged off. Levon and Lakeisha were non-committal. Cindy as straight to the point: "Seen it" and then "You're on your own, bucko. Don't knock her up."

Thus, it was just Mary and I sitting down on Thursday night, popcorn freshly popped, cheap white wine on ice. We sat together on the sofa, with a blanket over us to keep warm. It turned out that Mary was just as huge a freak about the movie as I was. I knew it as soon as she was intoning with me "I wanted a mission, and for my sins, they gave me one. Brought it up to me like room service. It was a real choice mission, and when it was over, I never wanted another."

We didn't do anything more sexual than hold hands.

She had her own little quirky traditions. When the Playboy bunnies came on, she had us get up and do a gyrating dance. She put a lot more emphasis on "never get out of the boat". It was like being back in the dorms.

Before long we were listening to the Doors intone "This is the end..." over the closing credits.