The Newlin's, Marcie & Mark Pt. 10

The Contest & More

Professor Horowitz was all smiles as Mark entered his office late in the afternoon.

"Good, good, I'm glad you could make it, Mark," the old professor said with a friendly chuckle.

"Yes, Professor, is there something wrong with my project? Mark inquired, for he was puzzled by the urgency of the professor's request to appear in his office as soon as possible.

"Mark I have the results of the competition you entered, I believe it was for ..." he paused to adjust his bi-focals then continued, "Um, for integrating strategies for a complex to be built in Monroe, Louisiana."

Mark went rigid. This was it, all that work he'd poured himself into, was it good news or bad?

"I won't diddle about, Mark. You finished third, and that's not bad. Not bad at all, I'm given to understand there were 115 students in the competition."

Not bad at all? I needed to win to get the on hands work necessary to get the jump start I wanted. Now I'm back with the rest of the pack, plodding on toward graduation and then another couple years gaining recognition through assignments that may or may not be a path to being able to start my own business.

Mark was so caught up in his perception of what lay ahead of him that he failed to hear what Professor Horowitz said next.

"Mark have you been you listening?"

"Huh—err, what was that Professor?"

"I was saying that in this particular instance, while finishing third, you seemed to have gotten the interest of Monroe's County Commissioners."

"What? Why?"

"Your design of the Library stood out in their minds, and while they cannot allow you to be the architect that actually constructs the library, they want you on board as the lead assistant architect. It will pay a salary, err, to be discussed when you fly down there, and err, tickets will be provided when a date is arrived upon for you to meet with them and the lead architect, err, probably next week."

"Wow!"

The Professor laughed and said, "I've been teaching a long time, Mark and you're the first student I've have, or even heard of that managed to pull something of this nature off. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Professor."

Along those lines, Assistant Dean Howard Aubuchon would like to meet with you first thing tomorrow morning. I suppose it's to congratulate you as well. After all you've brought a certain honor to the School of Architecture here at Nebraska."

The next morning Mark met with the Assistant Dean and as expected was congratulated on his success. What was not anticipated was the invitation to dinner the following evening. He was expected to bring a guest with him.

"Informal, of course," Aubuchon said, my wife and I like entertaining and it isn't often that we do it with students. It will help keep us in touch with the youthfulness of our students. At least I hope so."

After meeting with the Dean, Mark returned to his dorm apartment and phoned Artis Gilmore, the lead architect on the Monroe library. He was both pleased and surprised at the greeting he received from Gilmore, and the effusive compliments the man had for his ideas.

"You must have done considerable research on this from what I can see," Gilmore told him, and glowing inwardly, Mark conceded that he had.

Wanting to celebrate his good fortune, Mark thought to take Rana out to dinner, but he had no idea when she would be returning from school as she had a meeting following her last class.

Having plenty of nervous energy to spare, he wandered the apartment and finally thought to snoop through Rana's things, especially her lingerie, and wondered: Has she bought any new sex aids? Last time there was only a vibrator, but after the night with Samira I suppose she might have got herself some other interesting items. Um, let's see ...

He found find two magazines hidden away under her bras that were full of suggestive ads for covert get togethers that Mark thought to be aimed at swingers. The big surprise was Rana's diary, actually more of a journal, which was pretty boring until reaching the place where she wrote about seeing him, and how she set out to seduce him. Then after their first time together, she penned a section that was more or less a daydream about becoming his slave.

Further on, she touched on his being seduced by her cousin Samira. Remarkably, she went on to write about the possibilities of both of them sharing him again in the future. Moreover there was a paragraph about how much she enjoyed watching him with her and how she wanted a repeat performance.

She hadn't thought of her cousin sexually until the night in the limo when Mark had brought them together. Mark riffled through the following pages to see if she had spoken to Samira about any of this, but found no indication she had.

By this time Mark's cock was so stiff it was almost painful, and his mind was racing as he pictured Rana standing naked in front of Samira, holding up her full breasts to the younger woman and begging to be sucked. Mark had been horny before, but now he was ready to jerk off on the spot.

Only then he heard Rana's key in the lock and hurriedly tossed the journal back into its hiding place and closed the drawer, then stood in the middle of the room as Rana entered the bedroom.

"Hi handsome," she said happily as she moved toward him, tossing her backpack on a nearby chair.

"Rana," he said, pulling her to him before kissing her passionately while squeezing her right breast as she moaned into his mouth.

He broke the kiss just long enough to rasp, ""I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for a week!"

Rana stared at him wide-eyed.

Grabbing a thickly aroused nipple with each hand, Mark pulled her through the small bedroom into the darkened living room. She gasped as he bent her over in front of a wing chair and put her hands on the chair arms. Then he ripped her underwear off and followed that by starting to tear off his own clothing while enjoying the sight of her slickened pussy lips peeking out from between the tops of her thighs, just below her dark, puckered asshole.

Rana looked anxiously at him over her shoulder unaware that her breasts were swinging back and forth like the pendulum on a grandfather's clock as Mark's cock sprang into view.

Finally Mark had all his clothes off and stepped up to Rana's gorgeous ass. He rubbed the head of his cock once between her labia and found her slick and wet inside. With a soft grunt he fit the bulging head of his cock into the mouth of her waiting pussy and pushed.

Rana gasped.

Two more thrusts and he was buried to the hilt, surrounded by her warmth and wetness. Rana groaned deeply.

"Like it?"

"Sooo nice!" she replied.

Mark balanced himself, pulled out and slammed his dick into her until his hips began slapping against her firm buttocks.

It wasn't long before his loins were slapping against her ass in a steady, powerful rhythm. Rana panted and groaned, sometimes letting out a soft whimper when he pulled out, leaving her pussy momentarily empty. Mark's cock glistened with her juices and wet, sticky sounds filled the room.

With every gasp, he inhaled the wonderful aroma of her sex. The force of their rutting pushed the chair across the polished hardwood floor until it butted against a wall. Rana braced herself with her arms and legs as Mark began pounding even harder. She threw her head back and uttered a long, low guttural howl as the rapid penetration of her sex took her over the edge and into a powerful orgasm.

They were making so much noise neither one heard the sound of the key in Rana's front door, but Mark noticed as soon as the door began to open but didn't care he was too intent on the beautiful creature bent over in front of him. The door swung open and a pretty, dark-haired young woman he'd never seen before holding a laundry basket stepped inside, turning back to close the door. From the corner of his eye, he saw her reach out to flip on the lights.

The moment the light flooded the room, Rana gasped and her pussy gave his cock a hard squeeze. She tried to work free of him, but he held both hands on her back, keeping her in position. She turned her face toward the young woman with the laundry basket, who stood a few feet away as if turned to stone, staring at them wide-eyed.

Mark didn't care and continued his eager thrusting into Rana's slick pussy and for three or four heartbeats the only sounds in the room was the "slurp-slap, slurp-slap, slurp-slap" of their fucking and the chair inching across the floor from their frantic movements.

The pretty young girl gave a small cry, dropped her laundry basket and fled through the front door, letting it slam behind her. Rana gave an odd groan that somehow conveyed both her humiliation and arousal and surprised Mark by meeting his thrusts with her own, thrashing her hips and head simultaneously, compelling him to increase speed to match her furious pace.

Rana was moaning and groaning continuously and her cunt was so wet he could feel her juices coating his testicles and soaking his pubic hair. Her climax began to wane and she collapsed forward, resting her head and shoulders on the chair. The slightly different angle of her upraised pussy forced his cockhead to rub against the inner walls of her slit. A second later he felt his balls contract and the first gush of cum shot up his penis in a fiery burst.

With a sharp feeling of ecstatic relief, a torrent of sperm sprayed from his peehole into Rana's clasping cunt.

"AH! AHH! AHHH!" He grunted as he continued to pull out and force his way back inside her slippery warmth.

Finally they stopped, and panting hard they remained in place, with Rana's head and shoulders resting on the chair, her hips raised and her legs spread wide and locked motionless. Mark's cock softened slightly, and he left it inside her.

His knees were so weak from all the exertion he felt he would collapse to the floor if he dared to move. And so he caressed Rana's slender waist and broad, firm buttocks. She gave a satisfied sigh.

"You are a one fantastic fuck," he gasped into her ear.

"Do you really think so?" she said in a small voice, glancing at me over her shoulder with a relieved smile. "I think you're terrific too."

"Um, it may be none of my business, but would you know who the girl was that walked in on us?"

Rana's head jerked up, seemingly recovering the memory wiped out by the power of her prolonged orgasm.

"That was Nicole, we share some classes and she lives in the next building. This guy tried to hit on her every time she used the laundry room in her building; I told her she could use mine."

"But she had a key to your place," Mark said questioningly.

"Well I gave her the key so she could finish folding her laundry without being pestered. In return she does mine as well."

"So that pile of folded stuff on the floor is yours?"

"Mmmm, yeah. God this is so embarrassing!"

"Why because she saw us fucking? She's probably at the supermarket picking out a nice sized cucumber right now," Mark laughed.

Rana looked puzzled for a moment then flushed when she understood his implication.

"She wouldn't!" Rana blurted, but there was a note of uncertainty in her voice.

He was laughing and Rana had a smirk on her face as he pulled out of her pussy. Mark paused to admire the way her inner lips and dark pubic hair clung wetly to his half-erect member as it slid out of her. He helped Rana stand and turn around into his arms. She still had her tennis shoes on.

They stood there for a while; their sweaty bodies pressed against each other, while he held her and caressed her shoulders and back. She laid her head against his shoulder and sighed, her thick hair tickling his neck.

"That was wonderful," she said dreamily. "I never thought of doing it that way, you know?"

"I never did it that way before either."

They kissed, a soft languid kiss, with no tonguing, but light nibbling of one another's lips. When it ended, Mark told her about meeting the assistant dean and the dinner invitation the following night.

___________________

Apparently it was the University's policy to honor students bringing praise to the school with an informal 'tea' for an hour or so. Inasmuch as Mark wasn't a senior and not a Masters candidate, as yet, he had drawn the Assistant Dean and not the Dean himself. Mark wasn't aware of the distinction, and felt honored at the invitation, for the news of his 3rd place finish was still sinking in.

"It says "We request your presence at tea at 4 in the afternoon." Rana said for the third time as they finished dressing."

"I know, I know, but I was told it's for dinner, so let's go on that assumption, shall we? If it's just tea and crumpets, we'll have dinner on the way home, okay?"

"Fine, Mark, just as long as you fill me with that cock of yours after I eat, and maybe I'll blow you for desert."

"Promises, promises," mark laughed as he grabbed her by the ass and gave it a hard squeeze.

"No—No, you'll fuck up my make-up, later, baby, I promise," Rana laughed and he saw the wanton lust flickering in her eyes.

_______________________

Mrs. Aubuchon turned out to be a dark eyed petite cutie named Karrie who had met her husband Howard while she was an exchange student from Italy. She hit it off immediately with Rana and the two women retired to the kitchen to allow the men to get to know each other and hold their scholarly discussion in the tiny sitting room.

They talked awkwardly for about forty five minutes until the women broke it up by bringing in a bottle of wine and four glasses. The two were chatting as if they had known each other for years. From the wine the couples graduated to vodka martinis, and then sent out for pizza. By the time that was demolished, Rana and Howard had discovered a mutual interest in roses and were on hands and knees in the middle of the floor spreading out a series of books that Howard had acquired over the years with some particularly rare samples in them.

Karrie replenished Mark's second martini and sat down on the sofa beside him. "I've told your Rana more about myself today than I've ever told anyone. I think we're going to become great friends, she and I. She's a lovely person."

All Mark could think to say was "Yes she is, isn't she?"

"And she's told me much about herself and about you." Karrie went on. "She told me how caring and considerate you are with her."

"She did, did she?" he said and took a gulp of his martini.

"Oh no, I'm not against students becoming lovers without any long term considerations, Mark. That would be stifling at your age; why before I settled down with Howard I flirted with many good-looking guys and ... I shouldn't say this, but I did more than flirt with several of them."

"Oh," Mark said and took another sip of his drink without taking his eyes off Mrs. Aubuchon.

"Oh, yourself, Mark. As a married woman, I am not allowed to have real friends. If I give any impression that I recognize a man as a man while I am a woman, then I am a hussy. If I kiss a man other than my husband because he is a friend and I love him then I am a slut. If I kiss a woman because she is my friend and I love her, then I am labeled lesbian and ostracized."

"Do you regret marrying Howard?"

"Oh no, if I were not married to Howard I would be living with him as Rana is with you. Maybe I should divorce him and do that. I hate just being Mrs. Dr. Howard Aubuchon, wife and non-person otherwise, not to be desired or otherwise befriended by anyone else."

Their conversation was interrupted by sounds of laughter from both Rana and Howard on the floor with their books on roses. Howard was holding up a picture and Rana laughed as she snatched it from him and held him off as he attempted to retrieve it.

"See what I mean, right there with your Rana," Karrie laughed. "She can flirt, remind a man that she is a woman and he is a man. I am no longer allowed to do that in public."

Mark was sure Karrie was sending him a signal that implied a great deal more than what he'd expected from this invitation, and because he didn't dare be wrong, chose his next words carefully.

"What about in private?" He said quietly.

She stiffened, but her smile belied her answer, "I no longer have the nerve. I'm married."

Mark impulsively leaned over and kissed her on the lips. Karrie didn't recoil, neither did she respond. But there was something in her eyes that held a promise out to him.

A few minutes later Mark said, "Well, it's getting late;" and looking at his watch for emphasis, "We really should be going."

Rana gave Howard a good-night hug and Karrie extended her hand. "Well then, we'll be seeing the two of you next Wednesday."

She held Mark's hand a few moments longer than necessary and he noticed a faint smile touch her lips.

Later when Rana slipped into bed and turned to throw one bare leg over him she murmured, "Why didn't I get a hunk like Howard for my advisor instead of that stuffy old Ms. Gatsby?"

"Because, my dear, too many promising careers have been ruined by sexy temptresses like you. The first commandment of the school is 'thou shalt not screw any assigned students'. Imagine the trouble Howard would be in if anyone heard about the two of you rolling around on the floor like you did tonight."

"We were not rolling around on the floor!"

"And I for my part kissed his wife. Did you see that?"

"No, I didn't. When did that happen?"

"We were talking about the restrictions society places upon us as men, but more importantly as women. For example, as a married woman she can no longer flirt with a man, for it would remind the man that she is a woman, and you know what that might lead too."

"So?" Rana said then waited for him to answer.

"So I was sure that Karrie was sending a signal to me, and so I asked: 'What about in private?'"

"You DO have a nerve asking her that," Rana said, and then she began to giggle. On recovering from her giggling, Rana said, "And just how did she answer that?"

Mark cupped Rana's right breast and thumbed the nipple in a way that she liked. "She said, 'I'm married.'"

"Oh-ho," Rana said and licked her lips then sat up and placed the tip of Mark's erection against her dainty clit. She slid it up and down a few times and then slid down onto him with a happy sigh. He never got around to asking what she'd meant with her last remark.

________________________________

The following Wednesday Mark didn't miss the significance of Rana's evading his amorous advances as she contemplated her attire for their visit to Karrie and Howard's.

Wanting to make a good impression, she selected a pair of slacks that she had purchased the week before and had not worn yet. Then she picked a lavender bra from her drawer and asked Mark to help her with the hooks. As always he rubbed each breast vigorously before allowing it to escape his view by tucking it into the cup of the bra. There was no reason Rana couldn't have hooked the bra herself, but she had grown to love this little ritual and as she buttoned the almost sheer blouse over the bra, she was pleased to see her eraser tipped nipples protruding proudly for all to see.

Mark tugged on a fresh pair of jeans, then grabbed a Greg Norman golf shirt off a hanger and tucked it into the jeans. He leaned to the left and then the right, admiring his lean, trim body in the full-length mirror. As he adjusted his genitals he had a fleeting thought of Karrie and her fine looking body and how great she probably was in the sack and then dismissed it thinking of how he would fuck Rana after they had several drinks and returned home.

Karrie and Howard met them at the door; both of them effusively chatty. Karrie, in a light green and red silk Japanese kimono greeted Rana with a kiss to the cheek and took Mark's hand to lead him into the sitting room where a bottle of Saki wine and glasses were already on the coffee table.