The Bitch and the Bastard

Marilyn Stone was a bitch. She knew she was and she wanted to be a bitch. She went out of her way to be a bitch every day, all day long, to everybody. Everybody said so. Everybody said she was also hot, and she knew she was that too, though it was in a sagging big tits, wide ass, menopausal sort of way. Being hot was what turned her into a bitch in the first place, or so everybody said.

The story everybody told any employee new to Crofton Industries was Marilyn had been married and had been caught fucking another guy who was not her husband. Then they say, well, it isn't right to say she got caught. What they say happened is she and the guy were in bed at the Holiday Inn one night and Marilyn was riding the guy's cock. He was an older guy -- Marilyn apparently liked fucking old guys for some reason nobody knew -- and right after he came, he had a heart attack. That's what everybody said -- Marilyn fucked him so hard when he came he had a heart attack.

Marilyn called 911 even though she knew what would happen if she did. People gave her credit for that, well, the men who told the story did. They said it wasn't her fault she was such a great fuck she caused the guy to have a heart attack, and she deserved a little sympathy because she did try to help him. When women told the story, they said Marilyn got what she deserved for spreading her legs for some old guy she wasn't married to.

They say what she got that night was two EMT's in the hotel room trying to bring the guy back to life while Marilyn stood there and answered questions from the two city police officers who responded. When men told the story, Marilyn was naked and her pussy was leaking the guy's cum all over the floor. When women told the story, Marilyn had put on her clothes before the EMTs and police got there and there was nothing leaking out of her that anybody could see because it was soaked up by her panties.

Nobody really knew which because Marilyn never told anybody anything about what happened. All people knew for certain was what they read in the newspaper and it didn't say, but they knew that was what had to have happened.

The version of the story where Marilyn was dressed came from Jackie's second cousin on her mother's side who worked as a waitress in a donut shop downtown. She had overheard the story from an officer who knew one of the officer's involved when he told another officer Marilyn was dressed when they got there. The version of the story where she was naked and dripping cum on the carpet came from Harold who knew a guy who new a guy who knew one of the EMTs involved.

A few people at Crofton said the version about her dripping the guy's cum on the floor probably wasn't true because she'd been giving the guy CPR when the EMT's got there. That's what the newspaper said, though it didn't say if Marilyn was naked or dressed at the time. If she'd been leaking cum anywhere, it would have been on the bed.

They say the EMTs gave up shocking the guy after ten minutes and pronounced him dead. The police officers had figured out Marilyn hadn't killed him, well, except for fucking him to death, and wrote in their reports that pending the coroner's report, it didn't seem any crime had been committed. The city coroner confirmed the guy had a heart attack, probably his second or possibly even third, and Marilyn wasn't charged with anything.

The State didn't charge Marilyn, but she was charged, tried, and convicted in the court at Crofton Industries before she came back to work a week later. The crime was murder by sex and it took the jury only seconds to reach a guilty verdict once the report made the newspaper and explained why Marilyn hadn't been at work.

The men nodded and then grinned that Marilyn was one of those "killer pussies" that you didn't want to fuck if you wanted to stay alive even if she did have big tits and a hot ass. Then they grinned and said that must be one hell of a way to go -- having Marilyn ride your cock so good when you came she made you cum so hard your heart couldn't take it. You'd be dead, but you'd have a smile on your face it would take the mortician at least an hour to get back to normal.

The women shook their heads and whispered to each other that Marilyn must be a nymphomaniac because she was married and her husband should have been giving her all the sex she needed at home. As Lois put it, "I have to keep telling my husband I'm too tired because he'd do it every night if I let him. If he's gone on a business trip, I do need to sometimes, but I don't go out and find another man. I just use the handle of my hairbrush. She should be ashamed of herself for letting her sexual desires make her do something like that".

Marilyn had two choices when she came back to the job of secretary to the engineering department. She could try to hide in her work and feel constantly embarrassed, or she could hold up her head, stick out her tits and let people think what they goddamned well pleased. Marilyn chose the last alternative, and that's why she became a bitch.

Marilyn had to talk to people to do her job, so she did, but in a bitch sort of way. The other women she tolerated and spoke to them in a calm but cold manner that left no question about if she wanted to be friends or not. The men, men she knew were looking at her and wondering if she was really that great a fuck, she'd talk to as well, but she never looked at their faces and anything she said came out as cynical or condescending or otherwise just plain bitchy.

"I'll get your report typed just as soon as I can figure out how to read your damned handwriting and can read what the hell you wrote."

"No, I don't know where the hell Harold is. It's not my job to watch him."

"No, it's not done yet and I don't care if it has to be done today. You only gave it to me ten minutes ago. You'll get it when I get it done. Now go the hell away and let me work."

At first, it had been hard for Marilyn to be a bitch because in reality, she wasn't a bitch. She was just a woman with any woman's likes and dislikes, wants and needs, and the need to love and to be loved. She liked to smile and she liked people, well, except for the guys who leered at her all the time, but even that made her feel good inside. She would smile to herself when she saw them staring at her big breasts and sensuous hips and knew what they were thinking. They were thinking they'd like to have sex with her.

Marilyn smiled when she saw them doing that because she liked sex and she liked believing men thought she'd be good in bed. Before that night at the Holiday Inn, seeing them look at her that way would make her tingle inside, and if the right man did it long enough, sometimes she'd feel herself becoming aroused. Marilyn didn't know why that was, but it was fun.

Her marriage wasn't so much fun. Jerry liked having sex with her, or so he told her. He just didn't like doing it very often, and Marilyn needed to have sex more often than once on Saturday night. That was why she hadn't done anything to stop Matt, the older guy who worked at the shoe store downtown. Matt looked really sexy, she thought, sort of like the older movie stars she liked watching.

At first, all it had been was seeing the way he grinned when he put a pair of shoes on her feet. His hands had been gentle and sent tingles up her legs until he moved her foot just right. He'd grin then and Marilyn knew why. He'd caused her to open her legs and let him see up her skirt. That made the tingles get stronger.

Marilyn liked shoes and because she could afford to, she went shopping for shoes about twice a month. After that first time, she'd always just look around until Matt had finished with another customer and walked up to her and ask if he could help her with something. She'd tell him she'd like to try on this pair and that pair so she could decide how they looked and then wait until Matt went back into the storeroom and brought out the boxes. He always did that thing that let him look up her skirt and he always grinned and that grin made Marilyn feel good inside.

Marilyn knew she should probably have worn pants when she went shoe shopping, but that little grin and the way Matt's eyes got made her keep wearing skirts or dresses. The second month after he'd looked up her skirt, she didn't wear panties when she went shopping for shoes just to see what Matt would do. Before that, she was thrilled but a little embarrassed when he looked at her. It was when her husband ignored her the Saturday before that she decided she had to do something or she'd go crazy. She hoped Matt might take the hint.

Matt had done the same thing -- put the shoe on her foot and then turned her ankle a little and caused Marilyn to open her legs. Matt had grinned at first, but then he looked up at her and smiled. What he said was intended to sound innocent to anyone who might hear, but Marilyn understood what he meant.

"I like the way these look on you, Marilyn, but maybe you'd like to try on something else."

Marilyn had smiled back.

"I like these too, but I really like a fit that's a little more snug. Do you have anything that would fit like that?"

Matt had grinned.

"Oh, I think so, but I don't have it here."

Marilyn felt herself responding and knew it was wrong, but she couldn't make herself stop. She smiled coyly.

"Where could I see if the fit is what I like?"

Matt smiled and let her legs close, then looked around before he spoke in a quiet voice.

"Well, it just so happens I'm having the carpets cleaned in my house this Friday and they'll be wet until sometime Saturday so I got a room at the Holiday Inn for Friday night. Maybe I could show you there."

Marilyn took a deep breath.

"Which room and when will you be there?"

"It's room 406 and I'll probably get there at about six. They don't lock the doors until ten so you shouldn't have a problem getting in. I'll be waiting for you to knock."

That morning, Marilyn told her husband she'd have to work late on Friday night in order to get a project done and she'd have to work until it was finished so the engineers could review it on Saturday and see if it needed any changes. That was probably going to take several hours, so he shouldn't wait up for her. She stopped by a fast food place for dinner at about six and then drove to the Holiday Inn. When she got there, she went to the ladies room and refreshed her perfume including a spritz on the hair on her mound, then took the elevator to the fourth floor.

Matt had smiled when he opened the door.

"I hoped you wouldn't reconsider and I'm glad you didn't. I've been looking forward to this all day."

Marilyn had felt the thrill she hadn't felt since her honeymoon, the thrill of being undressed by man. Her husband always waited until she'd taken off all her clothes and climbed into bed. Matt undressed her slowly and told her what he thought about her as he did.

He carefully unbuttoned her blouse and then spread the front open to see her bra. He'd smiled and said, "You're absolutely seductive, did you know?"

He unhooked her bra then, and after he slipped it down her arms, he just stood there for a few seconds before he touched her.

"Marilyn, you have beautiful breasts", he said, and Marilyn felt her tummy tighten when he stroked her nipples. After that, she'd have done anything he wanted her to do.

He unzipped her skirt then, and when she said, "It has to come off over my head. I'm too big for the other way", he just grinned and lifted her skirt over her head. After he tossed it onto a chair, he cupped her hips and squeezed gently.

"A real woman should have hips like yours. I love your hips."

Her panties went next, and Marilyn caught her breath when he cupped her sex and gently moved her lips around. She unconsciously spread her legs a little, and when one of Matt's fingers slipped between those lips, she had to stop the little moan that threatened to slip out of her mouth. Matt just grinned.

"I think the fit is something you'll like, but we have to get you ready first."

Getting her ready was something her husband never really did, at least not like Matt did. He stripped off his clothes and then walked her to the bed. Marilyn laid down and licked her lips when she saw him climb up beside her. His swollen cock looked bigger than her husband's.

Matt had teased her nipples and clit until Marilyn was going out of her mind. Three times she felt like she was going to have an orgasm only to have Matt stop and let her coast back down a little. When she was rocking her hips and panting the fourth time, he didn't spread her legs and slide his cock into her like she was anticipating. Instead, he'd pulled her thigh over him and then rolled them both over until she was laying on his chest. Marilyn felt his cock probing her and spread her legs to open herself.

When his cock slipped inside her, Marilyn gasped. It was almost like what she'd felt the first time except there was no pain. There was just the delicious, mind searing feeling of being stretched open, stretched open and then filled by his thick cock, stretched open until she felt every little movement he made.

When Matt pulled back out, she felt the rim of his swollen cock head catch on the tighter spot just inside her entrance, and a million little sensations raced through her when it slipped past. Marilyn had moaned then, and moaned again when his cock head pushed back through that tight place and didn't stop until she felt her lips pressed into her thighs.

Matt had then pushed on her shoulders to make her rise up from his chest, and as soon as her heavy, right breast swayed free, he locked his mouth on her nipple and sucked hard. The sensation shot through Marilyn all the way from her nipple to her core and made her passage clamp down on Matt's stroking shaft. He groaned then and pushed up harder get his cock inside her deeper yet.

Marilyn didn't remember how long he sucked her nipples while he stroked his cock in and out, but she remembered the feeling of the tension building inside her. It was a tension stronger than she'd ever felt with her husband and a tension that was making her breathe in panting breaths and making her push down to force Matt's cock deeper. As that tension built, Marilyn's mind forgot about everything except the exquisite sensations that were racing through her body and causing her to make a little "Oh" sound every time Matt thrust his cock inside her.

The end had come for her after Matt pinched her nipple between his teeth. The tension inside Marilyn had exploded into a writhing of her body, legs that seemed to have a mind of their own, and the rhythmic contractions that tightened her passage around Matt's cock. She cried out and collapsed on Matt's chest just as he groaned and lifted her off the bed when he started to cum.

Matt thrust his cock into her twice more before he made a little cry and then grabbed his chest. Marilyn thought that was just how he was when he had an orgasm, but when he stopped moving at all, she knew something was wrong. She raised up and looked at the mask of pain on Matt's face. He looked up at her and said only two words -- "My heart" - and then his face fell to the side and he stopped breathing.

Marilyn had picked up the phone and dialed the front desk. When she explained that Matt needed to go to the hospital, the girl said she'd call 911. Marilyn put down the phone then and started doing the CPR she'd learned in a first aid class the company had sponsored so there would be several people in the plant who knew first aid.

That was the truth of what happened that night, the truth only Marilyn knew. She'd admitted to the police officer that she and Matt were having sex when he stopped breathing. She's said they met and one thing had led to another and that's how it happened. She hadn't said anything about being married and the police officer hadn't asked.

She had been naked when the police officer got there, but the police officer had taken one look at Matt and told her to get dressed while he took over. She had on her underwear, blouse and skirt by the time the EMT's got there a couple minutes later, so only she and the police officer knew about that. He'd promised not to write that in his report, and he hadn't, so there was no way for anybody else to find out what she knew the men at the plant kept saying about her.

Her husband had gotten a lawyer on the same day she'd told him what happened. She thought she might be able to make him understand why she'd done it, but he'd just called her a whore and said he didn't want her in the house again. Marilyn didn't fight the divorce because she knew any judge would think she was at fault. She couldn't very well tell the judge that if her husband had been intimate with her more often, she'd never have done it. The judge wouldn't have believed her.

That was because the judge was a man and all men thought women should be happy with whatever they got, or at least that was how it seemed. Her husband's lawyer kept saying that what she'd done had violated the marriage contract and she didn't deserve anything out of the divorce. Her lawyer had argued long and hard enough to save her car and get half their joint checking and savings accounts for her. Marilyn moved from the cheap motel where she'd been living to an apartment and tried to get on with life, but it wasn't easy.

For the first few weeks, she kept seeing both the men and women at work looking at her and then whispering to each other. They didn't understand and probably would never understand so she didn't try to make them. She just withdrew from everybody and became a bitch so nobody would talk to her anymore than was absolutely necessary. That didn't feel good, but it felt better then knowing they were laughing at her every time they talked to her.

It was the fear that she'd become like some of the other divorced women she knew that caused Marilyn to continue to take care of herself. They'd let themselves go and had gotten fat. That convinced them no man would ever want them because men wanted thin women so they stopped doing their hair and using makeup. It wasn't that Marilyn was looking for another man. It was just that she hadn't been able to bear the thought of becoming fat and ugly even before that night at the Holiday Inn, and still couldn't.

Every month, she had her dark brown hair cut and styled, always used makeup before she went out, even to the grocery store, and always dressed in something she thought made her look at least good, if not pretty. She wore nice jewelry, though most of it wasn't very expensive, and liked the look and feel of a locket or pendant hanging in the cleavage between her large breasts. The locket or pendant drew a man's eyes to her breasts and when men looked at her and smiled, that told her she was still a desirable woman.

Marilyn had carefully cultivated her bitch personality for five years when Crofton Industries implemented statistical process control in all their processes. She was forty-five then, and while she wasn't happy with her single status, couldn't bring herself to change how she acted. Any man she dated would eventually find out what she'd done and dump her, and that would have felt worse than not having a man in the first place.

Statistical process control required the use of a lot of statistical analysis and none of the engineers or quality people really had the skills. Crofton hired John Anderson, a man about Marilyn's age who had a masters degree in statistics. John was tall and lanky, had a small beard that was salt and pepper like his hair, and to Marilyn, he wasn't ugly, but neither was he handsome.

Marilyn's first meeting with John hadn't gone especially well. John worked for the quality department, and Debbie Marsh was the quality secretary, but about a week after he started, John brought Marilyn six data sheets and a box of graph paper. He wasn't smiling when he told her what he wanted her to do.