No Strings Pt. 02

NO STRINGS

Part Two of Three

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THE BITTER END

I. THE MARLA AFFAIR

Her 'car' was a beautiful, blue Bentley Continental GT sports coupe. (You may ask how I knew that - Some of our clients drive Bentleys. I've lusted after a few - the cars, not the clients.) We headed out of town till we came to an off-ramp that led to a wide two-lane road which headed north into the hills. After a mile, we turned onto a tree-lined, two-lane, divided by a center median of evergreen shrubbery. About 50 yards in, there was a manned, sentry station. The guard waved her past. After a few miles through rolling hills and past several gated properties, she pulled up in front of an imposing, ornate gate, which slid open at the push of a button. She drove up a long, curving drive, pulling up in front of a very large, very impressive, Tudor-style home.

When she came to a stop, I opened my door to go around and open hers. Immediately, two big Dobermans came out of nowhere.

Marla, a little panic in her voice, said, "Matt, stand still. Don't make any sudden moves."

"What are their names?" I calmly asked.

"Daedalus and Icarus."

"Clever," I observed, then quickly turned my attention to the dogs.

"Hey, boys, good boys," I said in a soft voice, then I firmly commanded "Daedalus, Icarus, come!"

The dogs continued trotting towards me. When they were within about pouncing distance, I commanded, "Daedalus, Icarus, halt! Sit!" They both immediately sat. I was ready to jump in the car if the commands didn't work.

"Good boys, good boys, stay!" I walked up and offered the back of my fisted hand and let them sniff, then gave them each a good pat and scratch. "Good boys. Daedalus, Icarus, release, free!" I ordered and pointed the direction they had come from. They turned and trotted off.

"That is the damndest thing I've ever seen," Marla remarked as she exited the car. "How the hell did you do that?"

I shrugged, "I have a way with critters."

"The hell you say. Those dogs should have torn you up. I'm going to fire the trainer."

"No, no, don't do that. The dogs are well-trained. I just established that I was friendly, then that I was the alpha in the situation, used a command voice giving typical commands, then rewarded their behavior. The most important thing is I didn't show any fear or weakness. The only thing you might want to consider is non-standard commands, but at this point, it might be difficult to change them without confusing the dogs."

Marla eyed me for a second, "So, you weren't scared?"

"Nope. I rarely get scared. It never helps."

"There's more to you than meets the eye, Matt. Come inside. I'm thirsty."

"Yes ma'am."

"Call me ma'am again, and I'll make you pay for it later," she quipped.

"Looking forward to it," I parried.

She laughed, hooked my arm and led me up the steps. She unlocked the front door with her thumb pressed on a reader, and we entered the foyer, which was as big as my kitchen, dining room, and living room combined. After locking the door, she tossed her purse on a credenza, hooked my arm and led me through the house to a set of double doors that opened onto an indoor swimming pool. In one corner was a good-sized bar, and behind it, on the back wall, a row of cabinets with a built-in refrigerator. Attached behind the elevated bar was a standard-height counter with a sink and various necessities - blenders, ice buckets, and such.

Marla went behind the bar, "What's your pleasure, Matt? I noticed you were drinking beer at the bar."

"Surprise me."

"Okay, well, I'm a tequila gal, so how about a couple shots of tequila with beer back?"

"You did surprise me, and that sounds perfect."

She poured two shots of tequila then turned to the refrigerator, "What kind of beer do you like?"

"Whatever you have will be fine."

"Take your pick; I have a selection, but I find Corona goes well with tequila."

"Sounds good. You have a 'selection'?" I asked, curious.

"Yes, some domestics, local craft beers, ales, porters, stouts...I even have 'blank' on tap. My soon-to-be, prick-of-an-ex-husband drinks that crap."

(Name of the beer obfuscated to protect me from those who religiously drink that brand.)

"Wow, I'm impressed, not by the 'bilge water on tap', but the selection."

"All of this," she motioned around her with her hand held up, "and it's my beer selection that impresses you?"

Deadpan, I replied, "I'm a complicated guy."

She laughed and shook her head, "That you are, Matt. And I think we're going to be friends," she stated as she opened two Coronas and set them on the bar. Then she scratched at her shoulder, "Damn dress."

She walked around the bar, "Here, unzip me. I have to get out of this thing. For as much as it cost, the damn thing should be more comfortable."

She turned her back to me and pulled her long hair to the side. I had trouble getting a grip on the tiny zipper tab, but then it smoothly slid down, stopping just above the swell of her buttocks. She stepped out of the dress and laid it across the bar. She was wearing a pair of lacy, dark-gray panties and nothing else, except for her heels, the rock hanging around her neck and the matching earrings. As the dress slid down, it exposed her surprisingly fabulous, very firm ass. I say surprisingly, because I knew she wasn't all that young. Her long, sleek legs went 'all the way to floor' as the saying goes, and she wasn't wearing nylons or pantyhose. She didn't need them - with her 'all-over', moderate tan, and flawless skin, her firm, well-muscled, but slender legs really were spectacular.

I assumed that somewhere in this cavernous house was a pretty amazing gym, and that she made good use of it.

She turned and faced me, "So, Matt, what do you think?"

"I have to reassess my opinion of your husband. He wasn't 'not very bright'. Unless your maid was Blake Lively, he was a fucking idiot for cheating on you."

"And if she was Blake Lively?" she asked with a wry smile.

"Then he was less of an idiot but still an idiot."

"I like that answer, Matt, honey."

She was braless, and her full, 'B'-cup breasts lay on her chest a little, but were lovely, nonetheless. I couldn't make out her nipples as they had these little, translucent, gel-looking pasties on them. She saw me looking, and peeled them off, exposing, small, dark aureoles, with medium-sized, suckable-looking nipples.

(I know; they're all suckable, but they don't all 'look' suckable - most guys will know what I mean by that. Those that don't, haven't seen enough nipples.)

"Can't wear a bra with this dress, and the damn thing rubs my tits sore," she remarked.

I took in her long, svelte figure with its slender torso, narrow waist and flat stomach, "Marla, you're a stunningly beautiful woman."

She smiled, "Thank you, dear. Not bad for 46, huh?"

"Not bad for 26."

She laughed, "Another good line."

"As long as you bought it," I blithely replied.

"You are a gem, Matt, my dear. Here's to us, and getting even with the pieces of excrement we were married to. She knocked down her shot of tequila without flinching. I joined her, but I may have flinched a little.

"Now, let's get you out of those clothes. I want to unwrap my present."

As she started unbuttoning my shirt, she asked, "So, what do you do out there in that 'rat race' when you're not pining over your lost love?"

"I'm a structural engineer."

"So you build things?"

"Not exactly. I take an architect's wet dream and fashion it into something buildable."

"What kind of things do you 'fashion'?"

"High-rises, office buildings, pretty much anything an architect can design."

"That must pay well," she remarked as she slipped my shoes off.

"It does, but I'm currently doing some 'rebuilding', myself."

"Oh, how's that?"

"The ex-wife, the bitch, wiped me out, so I'm starting over," I explained as she unzipped my slacks and slid them down. I stepped out of them and she removed my socks, then stood.

As she pulled my t-shirt over my out-stretched arms, she laughed, "Maybe your ex-wife, the bitch, and my soon-to-be ex-husband, the prick, should get together. They would deserve each other."

She stepped back, eyeing me, "Nice body, Matt. Damn nice body. How old are you?"

"How old do you want me to be?"

She laughed again, then leaned next to my ear and breathily stated, "Old enough to know what you're doing, and young enough to do it all night long."

I smiled, "That happens to be exactly how old I am...and I'm 36."

After a couple drinks, and exchanging some small talk, we necked a little, exploring each other's bodies, getting a little better acquainted before jumping in the sack. I learned her husband was an investor who made a bucket load of money off Apple and several other big tech companies.

After one exceptional kiss, Marla purred, "Okay, baby, I was going to suggest we go for a swim, but I can't wait any longer; I want to find out what I've brought home. Let's retire to a more comfortable setting. We can go for swim on one of our breaks," she added, slyly.

"Lead the way."

We went up a grand staircase to what I assumed was the master bedroom, which was huge, but the décor surprised me - very masculine. I said as much.

"Oh, this is my husband's bedroom. I want to fuck you on his bed. The little prick fucked the maid on mine. Tit for tat."

"So, your husband's a small guy?" I asked, surprised.

"On no, he's a big guy, stature-wise. But he's a little prick, all the same...and 'has' a little prick."

"But you married him anyway?"

"I married him for his money, and I was his trophy wife. So we were mutually attracted to each other - for entirely different reasons. Though, he was handsome when he was younger, dashing, even."

"And now?"

"Not dashing - bald with a pot belly, and he still has a little prick. How about you dear? Time to check out the goods. I hope you don't disappoint," she said as she knelt and pulled down my boxer briefs.

"Oh, nice, baby, you don't disappoint...Mind if we jump in the shower first?"

"Not at all. I was planning on taking one sometime today," I remarked, "Besides, good, clean fun is always more fun when you're good and clean."

She laughed, "Well said. Come on big boy. I'll do your back if you do mine," she replied as she slipped off her panties, revealing her well-manicured vulva with a narrow 'V' of dark pubic hair.

We had fun soaping and rinsing each other, then dried off, and I followed her gyrating ass to the bedroom.

Marla stretched out on the bed, "I don't need it but I want it, baby; could you give me cunny first, please."

"With pleasure," I replied and crawled between her long legs, which she immediately wrapped around my back.

She playfully tossed me a pillow and I slipped it under her narrow hips as she arched her back, lifting her butt off the bed. I grabbed her firm butt cheeks and went to work on her lovely vulva. Her small 'V' of dark pubic hair still glistened with moisture from the shower. Her long, dark pinkish-taupe, slender inner labia were slick and wet as was her pink, open vagina. I could tell she was in high heat because the little nub of her clit was peeking out from under its hood. I bent down and began by using the tip of my tongue to lick up and down her slit, while gently nibbling on her delicate lips. I ran my tongue around her hood, not touching her clit directly yet. After a few times, I flattened my tongue and applied more pressure as I licked up and down, then I probed her vaginal opening. As I played, she moaned her satisfaction.

"Nice technique, honey, ungh, damn nice...Oh, oh, yes. You can lick lower if you like..."

I immediately licked over her pucker, and her butt cheeks contracted in my hands. I continued licking, probing, nibbling, adding suction as I enveloped her clit with my lips, then gradually and lightly touched it with my tongue. Her hips shot up in and she shuddered when I made contact.

"Oh, damn! No, don't stop. Mmm hmm, yes, more anal play, oh fuck, keep that up..."

I took and pressed my thumb against her pucker and kept my lips locked around her clit. Gradually, I increased sucking and tonguing her clit. She grabbed my hair with both hands and mashed my face into her sex as her hips started jinking and her legs started shaking. I increased the diddling action with my tongue on her clit and sucking harder as I felt her approaching her climax.

"Ungh, fuck, fuck, yes, baby, don't stop, don't stop. I'm close, ohhh, close, close..."

She started jerking and shaking, and I took my free hand and pressed on her pelvis to help keep me latched onto her clit.

She shouted, "NOW, FUCK, NOW! Cumming, ahhh, ahhh, YESSSS!" she hissed, hips bucking, body shaking as her climax slammed into her. I held on and kept working her clit, till she couldn't take it anymore and forcefully pulled me off her sex by my hair.

"Oh shit, no more. No more, baby...Damn, that was worth the price of admission," she quipped and then started laughing. "Honey, I haven't climaxed like that in a very long time."

I crawled up her still twitching body, and filled my mouth with first one breast then the other, sucking her now hard nipples, biting them playfully as I sucked on her soft mounds. She pulled me up and engaged me in a hot, wet kiss, her long tongue slipping into my mouth as she wrapped her legs around me and grabbed my butt cheeks, pulling me tight against her.

When she released her hold on me, she demanded, "Give me that big cock now, honey. Just shove it in and fuck me hard!"

I didn't hesitate. I sat up, slipped my knees around her hips and shoved. My bulbous head slipped passed her snug opening and all the way in, mashing up against her cervix as our groins met. She immediately started clinching her slippery, wet tunnel.

"Ughh, fuck! Shit, that feels good! Pound me; I'm ready," she growled.

I did. I started long-stroking, thrusting firmly, slamming up against her cervix each time. Marla was digging her fingernails into my back, long legs wrapped around my lower back, urging me on. As she built towards her climax, I increased my pace, now forcefully pounding her. Soon, she started bucking under me, cursing and moaning as she rapidly approached an orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, fuck, yes, ungh, oh-oh-oh, cumming...AGHH, FUCK, FUCK, FU-U-U-CK!

I just kept stroking through her climax as her body shuddered beneath me.

"Oh, yes, yes, make me cum again!" she exclaimed as I pounded her. Within a few short minutes, I felt the semen boiling up in my balls and unloaded as she shouted, "NOW, OH SHIT, YOU FUCKING BASTARD, FILL MY CUNT!" She went ballistic, legs shaking, body trembling, and nails clawing my back.

Semen shot out of me, filling her deep cunt as she spasmed and jerked, riding out an even more intense orgasm than her first. Then I collapsed on her, huffing and sweating.

I tried to go 'all night long', but by three o'clock, I was gassed, used up and drained, figuratively and literally. Marla was insatiable, and practically rode me into a coma. We had an early breakfast and she drove me back to my vehicle as the sun came up. We made a date for the next Friday and said goodbye.

It was a memorable night of sex, but it wasn't Marla I was thinking about as I drove home.

II. THE END

When I got home, I fed Tom, then crashed.

(So you don't think I'm a terrible father, Tom's main meals are wet food, but I always leave some dry down for her, which she nibbles on if she gets hungry.)

I slept like the dead and didn't wake up till almost five p.m. I got a shower, dressed and threw a can of soup in a pot. I was starving but too lazy to make a meal. While the soup was heating up, I remembered I had silenced my phone when I went to Marla's, so I turned it on and checked my messages. I was shocked to see one from Lynne at nine a.m.

"Call me if you like," was all she said. I liked, and immediately called.

"Hello, Matt. I didn't think you were going to call."

"Sorry, I had my phone off, and just checked my messages...Crap! Sorry, I just burned something on the stove. Give me a sec...Okay, crisis over. I guess you need to come get your belongings."

"Yes, I'm sorry I haven't gotten everything. I did come by a couple of times and picked up a few things. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all."

"Actually, we need to talk. I was hoping today, but I realize it's late now, and if you have plans..." she ventured, tentatively.

"No, that's fine. Um, have you eaten?" I asked.

"No."

"If you'd like, we could meet for dinner," I suggested, "I just burned mine."

"It's Saturday night, so most places are going to be busy," she pointed out.

"Oh, yes, well, if you would be comfortable, we could eat here. I could order Chinese."

There was a pause, "Sure, that would be fine. Um, I'm about 40 minutes away, though."

"Actually, that will work out well, so..."

"I'll head your way," she replied.

"I'll order the food."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye, Lynne."

After she hung up, I went and changed - dressed a little nicer, put on some cologne, redid my make-up - just kidding; my make-up was fine. When the time was right, I called Happy Garden, then straightened things up.

About five minutes after the food arrived, there was a soft knock at the door. I checked the peephole. The last time I didn't, well, you know what happened.

My heart jumped in my throat, and I had butterflies in my stomach as I let Lynne in. She was dressed in a simple ivory blouse and navy-blue slacks, and looked beautiful, lovely, stunning, radiant...enough? Okay.

She had a raincoat over her arm, which I took and hung up, "Hi Lynne, the food just arrived; come on in and have a seat."

"Hi, Matt. Thank you for seeing me." She barely met my eyes as she went to sit down.

"How have you been?" I asked as I set the food on the table.

"Fine; busy."

"How's the new job going?"

"Very well, thank you."

We sat and exchanged small talk as we ate; all the while I wondered why she was here, but waited on her. We finished eating and cleared the table. I asked if she would like something to drink and she said water would be fine. I got us waters and moved us to the living room. Tom immediately got in her lap.

"I'm sorry, she's going to get hair on your slacks."

"That's okay. It's good to see her," she replied as she petted her.

"So, you said we needed to talk..."

"Yes, um, this is difficult..."

"What? You have a boyfriend now?" I said, kidding.

"Well, yes, but that's not what I need to talk to you about..."

My heart fell into my stomach and crushed all the cute, little butterflies.

"...Matt, I came to apologize, to tell you how sorry I am. Sylvia called me..."

"How did she get your number?" I interrupted.

"She told me she got it off your phone."

"Sneaky gal."

"Anyway, I've been trying to get up the nerve to come talk to you. Sylvia told me about Denise and what happened...I'm so, so sorry. I should have listened to you, let you explain..."

She faltered, tears leaking down her cheeks.

"Lynne, it's okay, I understand. I would have reacted the same way if I came in and found you kissing a naked man and...well doing what Denise was doing."

"No, you wouldn't. You would have listened; gave me a chance to explain."

"You wouldn't have believed me, anyway, Lynne."

"You're probably right." She pulled a tissue out of her purse and wiped at her eyes.

I tried to ease her obvious feelings of guilt, "Look it's history, now. I mean, you said you have a boyfriend, so we both need to move on. I don't harbor any hard feelings, if that's why you're here."

I was doing my best to play it cool. I didn't want to come off like a lovesick sap, especially since she now had a boyfriend.