The Newlin's, Marcie & Mark Pt. 01

Mark couldn't think clearly. Was she really going to stop now?

Seeing the puzzle look of panic on his face, she laughed and teasingly said, "Don't tell me you want an old lady like me to do you."

"YES! YES I DO!"

Before she could follow up with her next teasing line, he blurted, "You're the sexiest woman I've ever known!"

He meant every word and she knew it. "Good answer!" she laughed.

"Please don't stop," He begged her.

"Don't worry. I'm sending you home with a shit-eating grin on your face. And I'll show you how to get into Fay's pants tomorrow night too."

She looked long and hard at his twitching cock, and said, "You want to finish in my mouth or have me jerk you off?"

Mark was so happy she was going to continue he couldn't answer her.

"You want me to blow you, don't you?" He nodded and moaned.

"Mmmm... well, I want you in my mouth too." With that, her mouth slid over his shaft as she took him deep.

"JESUS!" he gasped, placing both hands on her head for the first time. Mrs. Morgenstern's head bobbed slowly a couple of times, and then she looked up at him. "Yeah, do that, I like a man who takes control."

Mark filed that remark away. It would come in handy at a later time, with both Mrs. Morgenstern and several other women. Confidence—control, very similar, both serving to give his future partners an assurance that he knew what he was doing, thereby opening doors that might otherwise be closed.

She went slow and steady, taking in at least three-quarters of his rod each time. Mrs. Morgenstern fellated him deep and slow, knowing when he was close and slowing until the urge to cum subsided, and then continued again. "Like it, Markie?"

"Mmmm, love it, Mrs. Morgenstern."

"Call me, Rita. All my friends call me Rita. You are my friend aren't you?"

"Oh I am soooo your friend. I'll be your best friend you want me too."

To Mark's eyes, Rita was stunningly beautiful at that moment. Of course a woman never looks more gorgeous than when on her knees with one's cock in her mouth and her lipsticked lips stretched around a thickened penis making serious sucking sounds. Ah, yes, such a lovely moment!

She continued blowing him, not speeding up or stroking him with her hands. She paused from time to time to lick the head or his balls, but each time she resumed at the same leisurely pace. The pressure was driving Mark crazy with pleasure.

The pleasure was almost too much to bear and Rita sensed it before poor Mark did.

"I'm going to make you cum now, Markie. Get ready—get set—CUM!"

Mark groaned.

Rita sucked furiously.

Marked groaned and strained to urge his testicles to erupt as fast as possible.

Two more rapacious sucks brought him to a boil, then Rita whipped him from her mouth and held his pulsing member over her outstretched tongue as Mark let line after line of thick translucent jizz splatter against her tongue, cheek, nose, and hair, before slowing to a drizzle that had to be squeezed out by Rita's hand that held him tightly.

Through it all, Mark groaned happily. He had never enjoyed a release quit like this one. Nor had he ever held off cumming this long before, and he would remember the benefits of holding back from then on.

He looked at her cum covered face and smiled. I did that, he told himself and was awed by the sight.

"Oh, you little motherfucker," Rita laughed lewdly. You got your shit all over me! I didn't expect a facial!"

"I'm so sorry," he said apologizing immediately.

"Ah, don't go apologizing, I loved it. I consider all that cum a compliment. Now let's see about getting you up and going again, shall we?"

But first, I want you to kiss me, really kiss me," Rita purred.

Mark of course was only too happy to do so and kissed her passionately.

When it ended, Mrs. Morgenstern said, "That's the way to kiss my daughter when she gets in that limo with you.

With any luck at all you should fuck her before getting to the reception dinner."

"Now do you have plans for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Um, no, nothing planned."

"Fay's at the mall to shop and take in a movie. She won't be home for hours. Let's get it on again, Markie!"

Markie never hesitated. Still hard he slid into her hot cunt and started fucking. Mrs. Morgenstern howled with joy and screamed "Do me, Markie! Do me again and again and again!"

The Beginning – Marcie Dolan

Marcie was the only child of Thad and Eleanor Dolan of Orlando, Florida. Her high school years while promising were unremarkable. However she showed sufficient promise as a pianist to win a partial scholarship to Florida Atlantic University in Boca Raton to study music, and it is there we meet her for the first time.

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Marcie didn't consider herself very attractive but the guys in her senior class certainly thought differently. She was 5'6", with long brown hair and brown eyes. Her 34B breasts had a habit of bouncing freely on the rare occasions when she went without a bra. Her sexual experiences were few and far between. For that matter, Marcie was a virgin. She had been groped and tongued on her few dates but that was it. She masturbated at least twice a day, and after graduating went to four times and would have willingly put out had anyone asked, but her schedule was so hectic there was no time to go on a date. The major reason for it was Marcie's parents had entered her into three piano recitals in hopes of landing her a full college scholarship.

The problem wasn't getting her a chance to perform, but that it was too little too late. She was offered a scholarship to the University of Kentucky—for the following year. And so she accepted the partial ride to Florida Atlantic, in Boca Raton.

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Marcie stared at the 'D' she'd received on Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence; reading the instructor's comments over and over again.

"It's hopeless, she told herself. I just don't understand what it is they want. I read the damn thing. I wrote what I thought about it and yet he says I missed the main point of the novel and spent most of my time with minutia. Marcie reached for her pocket dictionary and looked up the word: 'Precise details; small or trifling matters.'

She crumpled the paper up in her fist and began to sob. I'm here to learn about music—to master the piano. Everything else is just shit—shit—shit!

This wasn't the first time a paper of hers was not well received. She'd botched her first test in History of Civilization and just managed a C in French, a language Marcie had taken all four years in high school.

How the fuck did that happen? She asked herself for the umpteenth time. Adding fuel to that fire of discontent, Marcie's roomie, one Lillian Tideway, was either a drug addict or alcoholic, or both. Lillian kept disturbing Marcie when she was trying to study or even sleeping by stumbling into their shared dorm and vomiting before reaching the toilet, or getting the heebie-jeebies (as she called it) in the middle of the night. In fact it had reached the point where Marcie—a practical, but fairly shy girl of 19–-was about to drop out prior to getting F's in most of her subjects.

What she would later refer to as 'the miracle' occurred on a Saturday night. Lillian OD'd and was hospitalized and wound up leaving school when her parents were summoned the following Tuesday. Thursday afternoon Laura Grisum entered her dorm room, and Marcie's life changed for the better.

First of all, Laura's major was English Literature from day one, with a minor in Music and the Arts. Laura played trumpet and trombone among other instruments, and after listening to Marcie's lament, fished her 'D' paper on The Age of Innocence, from the trash basket, which had yet to be emptied out, uncrumpled it and smoothed it out then sat down to read it.

"Um, you know, this isn't as bad as it sounds."

Marcie stopped biting her cuticle and whipped her head around to look at the newcomer.

"What I mean is your paper reads all right. Grammatically speaking it's perfectly correct. This guy ... it is a guy right?"

Marcie nodded. "Yeah, a grad student named Smythe or something like that."

"Thought so. Well he's hung up on a couple things. One you didn't pay homage to Wharton. This guy seems to expect you to bend over backwards and kiss her ass. Shit, even Wharton wouldn't want that. She got a Pulitzer for it, but it isn't the greatest thing ever written by a mile and she'd be the first to admit it.

"Look here, if you skipped over this paragraph and pointed out how her main theme repeats itself several times over then put that skipped part back, your paper reads much better. I'd say at least a B or B+."

Feeling better already, Marcie wiped a tear from her eye and said meekly, I've got another paper I'm handing in tomorrow. Would you look at it for me?"

"Sure, lemmie see it."

Marcie pulled several pages from her notebook and handed them to Laura who sat on the edge of her bed and studied Marcie's paper.

"Um, look here," she said. "If you change this line here to read ..." And in ten minutes Marcie had a new version that would ultimately bring her an A+ and as stated earlier, change her life.

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Thinking about it later, Marcie was surprised that it was several days before she actually took her new roomie in. It might even have been longer had not Laura sauntered out of the shower and walked into their shared space in the nude.

Marcie looked at her objectively. Laura was simply gorgeous. Her face was long with high cheekbones, proof of her Scandinavian ancestry; arched eyebrows, a pouty mouth and clear blue eyes. She was about two inches taller than Marcie, which put her at an even 5'8". She had long blond hair, great legs, a tight ass, terrifically up thrust, perky breasts, and to Marcie's eyes, on coming from the shower, the neatest trimmed bush over her pussy that she'd ever seen.

Later, after Laura left her alone in their dorm room, Marcie stripped off her clothing and stood naked in front of the mirror over the dresser examining her own body.

She's a blonde and I'm a brunette. Advantage Laura. I can't deny that I have a pretty face. Everyone's always said so and I can't argue the point. Mmmm, my nose could be a little smaller, but maybe someday I can have that taken care of. I do have kissable lips—movie star lips actually. They may be my best feature.

What else? Well those tits poking out at you are actually a tad bigger than Laura's. Don't need a bra most days, except to hide my nips. So there's that, or them. And ... I can't knock my ass. At least not for another ten or twenty years. Got her there too. Legs ... Laura's are better and longer. Oh—oh, she's got those blue eyes and that tops my brownies. And—and that trimmed pussy ...um, I should be able to duplicate that. Hell, maybe she'll show me how she does hers. I wonder if she's a virgin like me.

Marcie found out later that night when the first hurricane of the season roared in. It was hurricane season and her college campus was directly in the projected path of the hurricane. It was only a question of whether it was going to hit them full on or just a glancing blow. Marcie had never encountered a hurricane's full force, but having been raised in Orlando, they had passed over her home many times as she grew up. But passing over and taking the full brunt of the storm were two different things as she was starting to realize.

The click of her heels on the tile floor echoed up and down the long hallway as she hurried from her last class of the day. Today was the day to get her mid-term grades and she couldn't bear not knowing if her latest paper was an 'A' or a 'B'. Hopefully it would be posted and she could satisfy her curiosity and return to the safety of her dorm room before the eye of the storm crossed over the college.

She waited patiently although she was unable to stop tapping her foot while the line of students ahead of her paused at the bulletin board to read their grades. Finally the person ahead of her stepped away and she scoured the listing for her name, found it and then located her mid-term grades. 'A+" in Music, 'B' in History of Civilization, 'B+' in French and last of all an 'A-' in English.

Marcie was so giddy with joy that she started to skip away from the bulletin board only to stop as she was passing the ladies room and decided she had better straighten her appearance out, especially her hair now plastered across her forehead from the torrential rain.

A little moan escaped her lips when she looked into the mirror. Her shoulder length Chestnut hair was hanging in wet, curly strands now, dripping water down her neck. She sighed; it had looked so good when she left the dorm just a few minutes ago. She tried her best to fluff it up, but it was useless and she gave up and leaned toward the mirror to fix her makeup.

She sighed again. I should be happy about my grades, she thought. I am happy about them, but I'm still ... what?

"Unsatisfied," she said aloud to her reflection. "And why is that, Marcie?"

She stared into the mirror as if expecting an answer, but none came. "FUCK!" she shouted in frustration, just as another girl walked into the ladies room and gave her a strange look.

"Sorry, just talking to my inner self," she said to the girl who although bewildered by Marcie's actions, merely nodded in acceptance and entered a stall making sure to lock the door after her. Marcie left the ladies room without uttering another word and braved the howling wind and heavy rain for the two blocks it took to reach her dormitory.

Once inside she wanted to sit down on the floor and go to sleep, but thought better of it and ventured into the bathroom, stripped off her wet clothing, blow-dried her hair, combed it, redid her makeup and after placing her wet clothes on hangers to let them dry, put on a bra she'd taken off the day before, pulled on a tee with Florida Atlantic University across her chest and a pair of soccer shorts, and then sprawled out on the couch she'd picked up from Goodwill and started reading. But Marcie kept thinking about her roomie, Laura. She was certainly different from the other students, but not just in an academic sense. Marcie couldn't quite put her finger on what the difference was but there was just something in the way Laura's eyes sparkled when she looked at her.

Laura came barging in about twenty minutes later, and with a knowing grin asked, "So how did your mid-terms go?"

A warm feeling shot down Marcie's spine hitting most of her pleasure points on hearing Laura's voice. "I think you already know ... do you?"

"No—no, c'mon, tell me!"

"I aced English and Music. As for the others–-I lucked out with a B in History and B+ in my French class. So I done good–-thanks to you, Laura.

That said, Marcie sprang from the couch and hugged her roomie, who promptly hugged her back, saying, "So let's celebrate the good news then!"

"Oh, we can't. It's terrible outside and getting worse. What's the weather channel have to say about the storm?"

"Last I heard the eye is almost on us."

"So ... I guess we're really in for it. I've never been in a real hurricane before. Have you, Laura?"

Laura plopped down on the couch and shook her head, no.

Marcie took note that Laura's mini-skirt was raked up enough to permit her to see between the other girl's legs. She could have simply ignored the overt display of the other girl's charms. Yet this time her eyes were drawn to the juncture of her thighs and she felt that certain sexual tingle between her own legs. A flush rose up from her neck to cover her face when she saw Laura smile knowingly at her and gradually opened them wider, as if daring Marcie to say something about it.

Marcie's heart began to race the moment she understood what Laura was doing. Instinctively Marcie knew Laura had no panties under the skirt. Marcie felt her face turn hot. She got flustered, and not knowing what to do, began to shuffle some papers on the desk next to her.

"What on Earth are you doing with my term paper?" Laura said her voice almost a soft caress.

That forced Marcie to look at Laura again. Her legs were opened even wider. Marcie was certain the other girl's pubic hair was visible.

Holy shit ... I can make out her labia!

Realizing she owed Laura a response Marcie stammered, "I—I thought I'd almost knocked the papers off the desk. I—I was just setting them right again."

"Oh," Laura said and crossed her legs, closing off the visual of her genitals while revealing most of her right thigh. Marcie sighed with relief, and then realized she was somewhat disappointed matters hadn't gone further.

What could have happened? She wondered. I've seen her naked. She's seen me naked. So what's the problem?

The answer hit her hard a moment later. You wanted to taste that pussy you slut. That's what the matter is! Marcie had to bit her fist to keep from crying out and alerting Laura.

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Thirty minutes later the eye of the hurricane closed in on them. Suddenly the power went out throughout the campus. The girls peered through their window into the darkening sky, only the lights from random generators could be seen.

"Candles—don't we have some candles?" Laura asked.

Marcie remembered seeing two candles in the small closet both girls shared and went and found them. Lighting them proved difficult. They lacked matches and neither girl smoked.

Marcie went out into the corridor and knocked on doors until someone gave her a book of matches. By this point it was so dark Marcie had trouble finding their dorm room.

Laura was waiting by the door and called to her and Marcie lit a candle in the corridor and brought it into their dorm where they lit the other one.

The room was sufficiently bright enough at this to enable them to see things without fear of bumping into them and knocking them over.

The air was filled with electricity and the room grew hot and muggy even with the rain lashing the windows in horizontal sheets. Laura busied herself stuffing towels against the base of the windows to keep the water out. Marcie worried her cuticles even more while wondering if they should have evacuated the campus before the hurricane arrived.

"Quit worrying so much, Laura said. "We're safe here. It's noisy and the lightning isn't my cup of tea either, but hey, we've got each other at least."

A thunderous clap of thunder followed immediately by several bright flashes of lightning had the girls hugging each other, fearful of what lay ahead.

Several minutes passed without further thunder or lightning. Marcie tried to laugh but couldn't. What she could do was to follow Laura's every move; paying particular attention to the way Laura's tight skirt clung to her sexy butt like a second skin. Her mind kept wandering back to the other girl's spread legs and the almost obscene view that she'd had of her bare crotch. Marcie felt the lips of her own sex pulse and squeezed her thighs together.

Then with Laura looking out the window, Marcie began squeezing her right breast. A pang of pleasure rocketed from it to her clit and she had to stifle a moan. Marcie became tremendously excited recalling the numerous times Laura had looked at, even commented on her breasts, admiring them, maintaining that hers were inconsequential when compared to Marcie's.

What she failed to realize was that Laura could see her image in the window she was corking with towels. Nor did she see the smile on Laura's face as she tweaked the nipple on her breast to add to her momentary pleasure.

Finishing with the towels for the time being, Laura turned to Marcie and said, "So Marcie, are you a virgin?"

Caught off-guard by the question, Marcie stammered, "Wha—what kind of question is that?"