The Newlin's, Marcie & Mark Pt. 22

"You---you don't have ...."

"OHHHHHHHH!"

As Aniah's 18 year old tongue licked danced lightly over Marcie's clit. It felt enormous. That it was erect was obvious. Aniah pushed the flaps of skin away and pressed on the hot-button softly, then hard, then soft again. Each time, Marcie moaned, attempting to urge her on, but the words were incoherent.

"OOOOHHHH GODDDDDD!"

It was too intense. Marcie bucked up, her thighs going higher, her ankles and feet sliding along Aniah's naked sides. It was driving Marcie mad; her fingers curled tightly in Aniah's hair.

Aniah could hear Marcie trying to talk, but couldn't make out the words. She raised her head from Marcie's crotch. "Tell me. What do you need?"

She moved closer to Aniah, her hands stroking the others arms. She leaned in and kissed her ear lobe, whispering to tell her what she needed. "Please, fuck me deep. Make me cum, please!"

Aniah sent three fingers into the quagmire that now represented Marcie's cunt then pulled them out.

"Okay, let's try something a little different, the teen said, and borrowing a page from Marcie's book of seduction, she leaned back into Marcie's cunt and began eating her out again, but this time she sent the wet fingers around the other woman's back to her ass and, after teasing the entrance to her rectum, worked two fingers up her ass at the same time she closed her lips tightly down on her clit.

"Ah, you're such a fucking dirty girl, eating me like that. You've gotten so good at it!"

The walls of her vagina contracted as did her anus around the fingers as Marcie went into an orgasmic spasm.

A second later, Marcie exploded. A torrent of fluid was expelled from her cunt looking as if she was releasing a pent up piss in its sheer volume.

The back of her car was saturated with it. Moreover the smell lasted for weeks afterward. No amount of spraying or cleansing seemed to help. But at the moment, Marcie was blissfully content and had to be coaxed by a near panicked Aniah who needed to get home before her parents in order to change her sex drenched clothing.

_______________________

The same afternoon Mark was in his office making some changes to his latest draft of the Newton Tower, a building he was designing for the city' judicial court system and at the same time, trying to decide how long to wait before calling Barry.

Just as he decided that he'd wait until Monday, the phone rang. Sure enough it was Barry.

There were no preliminaries. "Mark, how about lunch?" Barry was brisk, even for him. Not a good sign, Mark thought.

Mark had already finished a sandwich for lunch, but replied, "Sure, when and where?"

"How about three at Wolfie's sound?"

"Sure, I can make it."

"Okay ... I'll see you then," and the phone went dead. Not a good sign.

That left Mark with an hour and ten minutes. He found he could no longer concentrate on anything but Scotia and Barry he put work aside and worried about what the meeting held in store for him.

The time seemed to drag by. He was a good ten minutes early arriving at Wolfie's. To his surprise, the always punctual Barry was already at a table; and as county commissioner, he'd managed a booth with some privacy.

He stood as Mark reached him; smiled and shook Mark's hand, "Hi, Mark, how are you?"

Pretty normal so far. Mark told himself, but braced for trouble.

"Good, you?" He responded carefully.

"Okay," Barry replied and sat down without another word.

Mark had already decided that since Barry had asked for the meeting he'd let him start. He was certain he would. He also wanted to inquire after Scotia, but thought better of it.

Barry met Mark's eyes and coldly inquired, "What the fuck did you do to my wife?"

Mark had anticipated something like this and reacted accordingly.

Speaking quietly he held his palm up in a stop position and said: "Hold it right there! You practically begged me to do this. Do you recall the number one condition under which I reluctantly agreed, huh, Barry?"

Barry replied more evenly, "Okay, we'll keep our voices down. People are listening. I'm sorry; I know I agreed, but Jesus, Mark!"

It was then that Mark realized poor Barry had had no idea of what Scotia had wanted from him. She had left her husband in the dark, and the marks and bruises on her body must have come as a major shock to him.

"Look Barry, I'll tell you this much, and then we are done talking about it, once and for all! I did exactly what Scotia and I agreed too before hand; exactly what you and I agreed too, period!"

Mark took a drink of water, needing to calm down. "So, how is she doing?" he asked after regaining control.

Barry looked up again and took a deep breath, he too was calmer, but his face revealed his concern. "She's still pretty sore everywhere. The bruises ... Christ, the fucking bruises are everywhere. What the fuck did you two do to one another? Are you banged up too?"

"No, I'm fine. She's the one with the marks and bruises. I asked you how she's doing. I expect a rational answer, Barry."

"Better than me actually, but she's too sore for me to touch her since last night" he replied with a sadness in his voice.

Last night huh, that held some promise, "What happened last night?"

"Jesus, Mark, what kind of a question is that?" Barry said as his voice rose up an octave.

"Did the two of you have sex after she came home?"

"That's a little too personal!"

"Not really. You know why she came to me. The two of you put me smack in the middle of it. So if she came home and you had sex with her ...."

"So what if we did?" Barry said defiantly. "She's my wife!"

Remaining calm Mark replied, "Barry, were you rough on her?"

"At first, yes, damn it! I could tell it was hurting, but she didn't say anything. It took a minute or so before I saw the bruises."

Mark could see his anger, but Barry was controlling it.

Softer, "Barry, I'm asking for a very good reason, and now I'm going to ask something real personal, but terribly important. How did you feel about it, and how did Scotia react?"

Borelli looked at Mark with a bit of surprise on his face, took a deep breath and started talking non-stop:

"Well, like you said, I was pissed at both of you. But she came on to me. I'm not wrong in that. She definitely wanted me to fuck her.

"Um, make no mistake, Mark, it was fucking and not love-making. I was probably rougher with her than I'd ever been," he paused, but Mark sensed Borelli was about to tell him everything.

"I thought ... well I thought that's what she wanted. In fact, hindsight tells me it's exactly what she wanted from me. When I realized I was hurting her ... um, two things happened. First, I was turned on. That had never happened before. I guess it was the revenge factor or something like it. But what surprised me most was that Scotia came harder than she ever had with me. It was then that I noticed the welts on her backside, and all those bruises on her breasts and inner thighs.

"Christ, what did you two do?"

Mark ignored the question, saying: "Barry, from what you just told me, I think there may be a good chance that your marriage is not only going to survive, but flourish. You are going to have to trust me and Scotia although it's going to sound weird, even with you knowing what you do at this point.

"Scotia's going to want a repeat of last night. Now I don't necessarily mean with me. It's you that will play the principle lead here, if not today than next week, or next month. It's you that needs to come to terms with her needs as disturbing as they may be to you. It's you who will be in control and determine just how much pain she can stand and give it to her without damaging her permanently.

"I don't want you thinking it has anything to do with me; it really doesn't. It's about the fact that Scotia has craved something for a while, and now that she's had a taste, so to speak, I'm pretty sure she's going to want more."

"I was pretty rough on her; but she knows she can trust me, and she knows you trust me too. At least I hope you still do."

"Oh, hell Mark, I trust you. Shit, I forced you to do this and you tried to tell me I didn't know what I was getting into. I can't help being pissed at both you and Scotia; but it's really me I'm pissed at. It's my own damn fault!" he admitted.

"Actually it isn't. You're trying to save your marriage. You love her and she loves you. Look I said I had an idea, want to hear about it?"

"If it's for me to beat the shit out of her every other Tuesday, forget it!" Barry huffed.

"Well, I think its obvious Scotia has a need for some pretty rough stuff, whether it's with me, someone else, or YOU!"

Borelli almost choked, "I told you I just can't do it."

"I just heard you say it turned you on."

"I don't know what I'm saying!"

"You do, you're a fucking lawyer turned politician. You measure every fucking word that comes out of your mouth!"

Mark pointed his finger out and almost touched Borelli's nose, and whispered softly: "What you told me was it turned you on last night to know you were hurting your wife when you were fucking her!"

"I---I ..." Borelli sputtered.

"Look," Mark continued, "wouldn't the best thing for your marriage be for the two of you to find a middle ground? Maybe you can't punish Scotia the way I did, but maybe you don't have to. Maybe you just need to give her enough to keep her satisfied, not necessarily fulfill her wildest fantasies. Hell who really gets that?"

"I'm listening," Borelli said.

"Okay, so when she wants more ...."

Barry cut him off, "If Scotia wants more!"

"Okay, if Scotia wants more, here's what I propose."

Barry listened, seemingly dumbstruck; but Mark could see in his face it held a certain fascination for him.

They parted agreeing that Borelli would go about life normally. Mark wouldn't avoid Scotia, but wouldn't go out of his way to be where she was either. He would let Barry know the moment she contacted him again.

Mark was convinced it wouldn't be long. He really thought this was a win—win situation, and to be honest, his plan included him having at least one more session with that wild bitch; a thought that pleased him greatly. There was even an outside possibility that he could get to do it on an ongoing basis; and that brought a smile to his face.