Suburbia Ch. 05

Chapter 5 begins immediately after Chapter 4.

========== Chapter 5: Meredith and Mena

Marcus and Natalie dropped her bags to the side of the front door and immediately shared another passionate embrace. "It is so good to have you home, baby," Marcus said.

"I've missed you more than you can imagine," Natalie replied. "So why don't you go wait for me in the bedroom while I go take a shower?" she requested in a lower, more seductive tone.

"I'll do that," Marcus consented. Natalie retrieved her personal hygiene items from one of her bags and headed upstairs to the bathroom, with Marcus behind her, tromping up with her luggage in tow. Natalie stripped down and climbed into the shower, turning the water on to a comfortable temperature. She sat on the floor and let the calming jets of water flow over her skin, her body wracked from the eight-hour flight. She ran her hands over her face and was shocked at all the piercings she had installed. With feverish speed she removed all sixteen of the small metal objects from her body and untied her hair, letting it fall all the way down to the shower floor. Ahh, that feels much better, she glowed. She felt like a different person, because she was in fact a different person. She had given Marcus some time with his slut on the way home; his wife needed some attention now.

Meanwhile, Marcus quickly fixed up the bedroom, making the bed and trying to remove any evidence that another woman had been there just three hours before. Not that she would have cared, but she deserved to be able to focus on him without thinking about another woman's presence in their bed. Of course, Natalie could care less, and Mena slightly more, but Meredith was the object of his attention right now, and he wanted to see her more than anybody. His desires were confirmed when he saw her standing in the doorframe, a robe wrapped around her piercing-free body and her hair hanging freely down to her waist.

"Meredith," he called out to his wife with extended arms, "you have no idea how much I have missed you..."

"I've missed you too, we all have," Meredith replied, wrapping herself in her husband's loving arms. "Well, except for that bitch Sergeant Kohlfield..."

"Who is folded up neatly in the bottom of a duffel bag, and I intend on leaving her there," Marcus retorted, addressing his wife's military persona. He had known about his wife's multiple identities since he had met her; hell, he had stuck by her when the military wanted to diagnose her as schizophrenic. Regardless of what mindset she might be in, it was never as extreme as some cases of MPD, where a separate personality does or says something that the 'main' person would not or could not remember later on. Meredith was merely able to adjust her mindset to the situation she was in: there was SSgt. Kohlfield, her hard-nosed, no-nonsense work mentality; Meredith was the woman Marcus had married: the devoted, faithful wife who always made love to her husband; Natalie was the slut inside her, willing to fuck anybody that Marcus would allow her to, male or female. Mena was kind of a middle ground, the best-friend mentality. When she and Marcus had sex, it was always hot and passionate, yet never as tame as Meredith's lovemaking nor as extreme as Natalie's whorish tendencies. They were as different outside of the bedroom as they were in it: quiet and reserved Meredith, loud, boisterous and stubborn Natalie, and the opinionated yet diplomatic Mena. Marcus knew well the traumas that had led to Meredith developing so many alternate personalities, but none of it mattered to him; besides, he liked having a woman he could relate with sexually, intellectually and emotionally without having to do all three at the same time.

Marcus gently kissed Meredith on her forehead as he guided her to the edge of the bed. Sitting down, he peeled the robe from his wife's body, revealing the ravishing body he so sorely missed lavishing his attentions on. His hands found their way to her shapely hips, and with almost a trembling touch he traced his fingers across her flesh, from her freshly shaven pubic area, to her taut, muscular abs, down her toned legs to her petite feet. On his way back up he tickled her behind the knees, which elicited a half moan, half giggle from Meredith. "Dammit, I was hoping you'd forgotten about that," she fumed.

"C'mon now, you know me better than that," Marcus said as he examined her smooth, tanned skin. "You sure got darker over there, didn't you?"

"Well, what do you expect from being out in the sun for sixteen hours a day?"

"True, but you don't have any tan lines... how'd you pull that one off?"

"Hmm... I'll let Natalie or Mena tell you about that later on. Right now, you belong to me, understood?"

"Fair enough," Marcus responded, his hands continuing their travels. He cupped her large, soft breasts and pulled one into his mouth. Meredith hissed through her clenched teeth at the sensations Marcus caused as he flicked his tongue rapidly across her nipple. She was getting extremely excited, and was having trouble keeping her feet underneath her. She pulled away from Marcus; she had to or otherwise she risked switching into another mindset, which was not what either of them wanted right now. She guided Marcus to a seated position on the bed, with his back against the headboard. Once she had him properly positioned, she sat in his lap facing him and slowly worked his sex into hers. As Marcus held her, he could feel tension throughout her entire body, and with good reason: she was tighter than Marcus had ever known her to be. Once she was comfortably mounted, however, she literally melted her body into his, clutching him to her as if it were the last time they would ever see each other. Marcus wrapped his arms around his wife and began to run his fingers through her hair. He started to slowly elevate his hips, but Meredith stopped him. "Please, don't move... just hold me. I just need to be held right now..." she whispered, a hidden tear finally falling from her jaw onto Marcus' chest. Marcus just pulled her even tighter into him, causing Meredith to put her arms around his neck and literally break down in tears. "I love you, dammit Marcus," she whimpered, "I love you more than anything else in the world. I just want us to be together. Is that too much to ask? To be together with my husband?"

"I understand how you feel, believe me. This hasn't been easy for me either. At least there you've got your friends and co-workers... I'm kind of floating by myself here."

"I don't want to go back over there, Marcus. Please, don't-"

"Now don't get to talking that nonsense. You're stronger than that; besides, two more months and you get to go back to Italy, do your clearing, and you're home again. For good, this time." Marcus sighed; he hated the idea of separating from her again, even if for such a relatively short time. "We've done eight months till now; let's enjoy this next month together, and do what we have to do from there."

Meredith sniffled and asked for a tissue. "You're right... let's just make the most of the time we do have together," she consented, guiding his face to hers by the ears and planting him with a long, slow, sensuous kiss. Marcus slid down the bed onto his back and pulled the covers over them. Husband and wife lay silently still, soaking in each other's presence.

Marcus awoke, feeling his wife's body upright on top of his. He could tell immediately that he was still inside her, feeling her wet warmth surrounding his manhood. He looked towards the window; the light from the sun was nowhere to be seen. "I guess we fell asleep," Meredith said, shaking her hair out. Marcus looked at the clock; it was 9:46 PM. He remembered getting back to the house around 2:30 that afternoon, so he discounted her shower and their lovemaking and guessed that they had been sleeping since at least 4. He looked up at his wife, whose face was now hovering over his with a playful look in her eye. "Let's play a little game, shall we?" she said slyly, grinding against his groin and feeling his cock throb inside of her.

"First off, I want to know how you got such a dark tan."

"Oh god..." Meredith groaned. "That was a deal with the devil. Another female and Natalie convinced a group of about seven male Soldiers to pull perimeter guard for us for an hour every day while we sunbathed naked."

"And dare I ask how you pulled that off?"

Meredith winced. "We blew them afterwards."

"Damn, woman! How often did this happen?"

"Every day... I told you was gonna come back with a tan; I had to do it somehow."

"I'm not worried about what you did; you know how to cover your own ass. Did you ever get sick at all?"

"No, I never swallowed. I don't know about the other girl, but I told them from the beginning, I'd suck them to completion, but I wouldn't swallow. They weren't complaining; at least they were getting some."

"Oh, all right then. Did you ever fuck any of them?"

"Nah, none of them were really that fuckable, and they all had average sized cocks, to be nice about it. I gave them head every night and sent them on their way."

"Cool, cool... now, what game did you have in mind?"

"Let's play sexual torture; what do you think the prize for the winner should be?"

Marcus groaned; despite his barely-above-even win-loss record he loved this game, but having not had sex with her in so long might put him at a disadvantage. The rules of sexual torture were as follows: Whoever went first (usually her) had to make the other climax, while the person being pushed to orgasm was not allowed to move at all. Then they switched roles and whoever came in the shortest amount of time lost. "Mena, you sure you want to play tonight?"

"What, are you afraid to lose?"

Dammit, he though. He hated when she called his competitive nature out on the carpet. "Oh all right, I'll play... if I win, you have to cook tonight, and if you win, I'll take you out to eat."

"Agreed. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready. Do your worst." He started the stopwatch in his wristwatch and with that, Mena was off, gliding up and down on Marcus' shaft. Marcus did his best to keep still; no other woman he had ever had sex with (or would ever have sex with in the future) could hold a candle to his wife; they were both masters of sexual technique, each complementing each other's knowledge. She tortured him every way she could think of; rubbing his chest, sucking his nipples, whipping him with her hair, even scratching him ever so lightly behind the ears (the last two moves being two of his biggest known weak points). Still, although the look of sheer ecstasy on his face might not have said the same thing, Marcus would not allow himself to climax. "Hmm... you're doing good," Mena noted, "but let's see how you handle this." She began to ride him harder now, her tits bouncing up and down before Marcus' eyes. His mouth was watering; he wanted nothing more than to suck on her nips until she came, but he would have to wait his turn.

Mena looked at Marcus' watch and saw that seven minutes and 27 seconds had passed. She was pleased that he had held out for so long, but it was time to crush his resolve. She turned to face away from him and lay flat on her stomach. She spread her legs as far as she was able, leaving Marcus of a clear view of her ass and pussy, which she was expertly working his boner in and out of. Marcus swore to himself in three different languages. His wife had the perfect ass, and any sight of it was enough to make him cream his pants. He struggled to retain control, and was successful for several minutes before he unleashed his torrent into his wife's body. He called for the time once his breath had returned to him. She reached around and read the clock: "11 minutes, 9 seconds. Good job," she said with a wink. "Now it's your turn... how do you want me?"

"Spread-eagle... you called me out, now it's time for you to pay," he answered with a devilish grin.

"Ooh papi, make it hurt so good," she hissed as she assumed the requested position. "Ready?" she asked as she took the stopwatch.

Marcus licked his lips. "I'm ready when you are."

Holy fuck... Mena thought; she knew exactly was he was about to do. She hit the start button and said, "Go!" With the motion, precision and sensitivity of a drill bit, Marcus aimed the tip of his tongue directly at his wife's clit. Her eyes almost popped out of her skull; nothing made her climax so hard it literally hurt, than a hard tonguing at her most sensitive spot. Every other part of her body was seemingly numb; all she could feel was the slightest amount of his flesh assaulting her to the point where she would give anything to make it stop, and twice as much to make it continue. She came rapidly and violently, her entire body lifting up off the bed, with Marcus extending his relentlessness until she dropped back down to the mattress.

Marcus stood up and observed Mena. She was breathing heavily, her eyes were watery and welded open. She slowly released her grip on the bedspread, and there were some small tears from where her nails had dug so deeply into it. Her rigid body began to relax as the orgasmic cacophony inside her own mind ebbed, and the first words out of her mouth when she finally did speak were, "Have I... told... you lately... how much..." Suddenly she sat up and threw a pillow at Marcus before completing her thought: "of an asshole you are?!"

Marcus couldn't help but laugh. "I may be an asshole, but I'm a victorious asshole."

"Dammit..." Mena sighed as she got back on her feet. She couldn't believe he was actually going to make her cook tonight, but she had made the bet, and summarily lost. "So, what do you want for dinner?" she asked as she put her robe on.

"You can't be serious... did you really think I was gonna hold you to that? Get some clothes on; we're going out."

"What? Then why'd you make that bet?"

Marcus sighed annoyingly. "Does it really matter, woman? Get dressed!"

"Aww... you really are the world's greatest husband," Mena said, throwing her arms around him and giving him a peck on the forehead.

"I thought I was an asshole," Marcus retorted.

"Oh, you are, but you're my asshole," Mena said sweetly as she dug into her closet. She chose one of her more 'housewife'-ish outfits and, for a contrast in styles, threw a leather vest of Marcus' on over her shirt.

"Did I give you permission to wear that?" Marcus asked her when she came downstairs.

"You didn't have to; I took it," she replied sarcastically.

"Oooh... your ass belongs to me when we get home."

"Well what about the rest of me?"

"I got that on lock too."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Mena egged him on. Marcus merely sighed. He did indeed have something special in mind for her once they got home. Hopefully she wouldn't be expecting it, although she knew full well what her usual punishment was for such insolence.

Marcus drove through the Philadelphia streets and parked in an underground garage in Center City. There was a park nearby with a fountain in it, perfect for a romantic walk and necessary in the first part of his 'revenge.' One of their favorite restaurants was nearby, which was Marcus' intended destination. Once inside and seated, Mena noted something: "Remember our very first date here?"

Marcus smiled. "Yeah, I do. It was when we were on leave right before Iraq, and you came home with me to meet my family."

Mena laughed. "Your aunt had tried to cook something, but she end up leaving it in the oven too long-"

"Oh god," Marcus choked out in the midst of a laugh. "It was so overcooked it was disgusting, whatever it was."

"Then you mentioned this place-"

"And we came and ate dinner here."

"And what else?"

Marcus rubbed the wedding band on his left hand. "I asked you to marry me."

"And here we are, almost three years later."

"I know... I can't believe our third anniversary is only three months away."

"It's the deployments... they make the time fly by."

"This is true enough... but soon enough, they'll all be over. In fact, you'll be out for our anniversary, won't you?"

Mena looked at a calendar in her cell phone. She would indeed be out of the military by the time the date in question arrived.

"I guess I should... wait a minute, is that who I think it is?" Marcus asked, looking toward the door over his wife's shoulder.

"Who's who?" She turned around as well, and recognized another bandmate of Marcus': Dorian Jackson, traveling with a sizeable group. "Hey, DJ!" Mena called out. The young man who her attention was fixed on looked around bewildered for a moment until he saw Mena and Marcus sitting together. He excused himself from his group and sprinted over to their table, careful to duck and dodge any traffic on the floor. "Marcus, what is up, man?" he exclaimed, hugging his buddy.

"I've been doing good... living in Suburbia now. We own a house out there."

"Ah, out in the 'burbs, huh? I ain't mad atcha." He turned to Mena. "And how have you been, Sergeant K? Still holding it down in the sandbox?"

"Yes, but don't call me that; I'm on leave now, you can call me by my first name."

Dorian chuckled. "Well then, Meredith, Marcus, I'll be seeing y'all around, I hope?"

"Of course. You should come by the house one day before I have to go back," Mena invited. "In fact, have you heard from Vega since he got out?" she asked. Astacio Vega rounded out their band.

"Actually, I have. He's working for a biomed firm here in the city. I've got his phone number if you want it."

"Yeah, let me get it; I doubt he'll mind," Marcus responded, asking for DJ's as well. They exchanged numbers and hugs, after which Dorian returned to his group. The couple finished their meal and paid their bill, giving Dorian one final salutation before leaving. They walked back through the park and sat on the edge of the fountain. Mena snuggled close to Marcus. "It's such a beautiful night out," she purred.

Marcus agreed. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and there was a calm breeze blowing. Marcus put his arms around Mena, who still didn't suspect anything was amiss. She was enamored with the romantic setting, which was abruptly changed when he dumped her in the fountain! She surfaced screaming and swearing at the top of her lungs, while Marcus merely laughed triumphantly. "I told you your ass was mine; now let's go home before you get sick."

The entire drive home, Mena refused to say a word to Marcus. When they got home, she immediately exited the car and stormed up onto the porch, waiting for Marcus to come and unlock the door. She heard his footsteps end right before he should have come up the steps.

Oh shit, she thought, my jeans are still wet...

Suddenly a gunshot echoed throughout the block. Mena stood on the tips of her toes, cringing in pain. Marcus smirked as he unlocked the door and walked through it. Mena tiptoed through, her posterior in too much pain to do otherwise. Once she was inside and the door was shut and locked, all that could be heard was Mena yelling, "You SON OF A BITCH!!!" Marcus was already upstairs. "Once again, I told you your ass was mine!" he called out before shutting and locking a door. Mena peeled her wet clothes off and left them in the laundry room. She went into the bathroom and examined herself. The whole of her left asscheek was red with Marcus' handprint. That was her standard punishment when she sassed Marcus: a firm swat across the rear. And by god, could he smack asses. He smacked harder than anyone she had ever met. And Natalie liked being spanked during sex, and spanked hard, so she'd met her fair share of ass-slappers; none of them could hold a candle to her husband, though.

Mena rubbed her hand across her now swollen ass. The pain was gone; whenever she touched herself, she felt the power and the dominance of her hubby that had wrapped her around his finger so long ago. She ran her fingertips along the edges of Marcus' handprint and felt her sex get moist. Without thinking, she smacked herself in the same area Marcus had. The resulting sting caused her pussy to get even wetter. Now she was extremely horny and started playing with her clit in an attempt to satisfy herself, not wanting to give Marcus the satisfaction of having sex with her after what he'd just done. As good as that felt, the churning in her pussy could not be quelled. She searched through a small plastic chest that contained some of her sex toys (the ones she used when Marcus was unavailable for whatever reason) and pulled out the largest, blackest dildo she owned. She inserted its full 12 inches into her snatch and began furiously fucking herself, but the more pleasure she got, the more pain she felt. She didn't want to admit it, but as mad as she was at her husband, nothing could satisfy her now except his fat dick in any hole she could get it into. She put her toy away, weeping slightly. Her pride would not let her give in, but her body would not let her carry on any longer. She tried to steel her resolve, but then her eyes fell on the soap dish that held all her piercings and her head sank.