Just Add Alcohol Ch. 02byISawYourMommy©
Chapter 02: Marie
You know that kid from the Dell commercials a few years back? "Dude, you're getting' a Dell!" Remember him?
Marie fucked him.
Well, not him exactly. But his twin. Urban myth holds that everyone has a twin somewhere in the world. Well, this kid was a dead ringer for the Dell spokeskid. Standing a notch below six feet, his spiking blond-and-brown hair cropped short, Brad was muscular but lanky at the same time, in that way that only boys in their late teens can be. His face appeared perpetually scrubbed fresh, light blue eyes always alert.
Marie fucked him.
She shouldn't have done it. She regretted it even as he pulled his dripping cock from her ravaged cunt.
But Marie Carpelli was a lush. Not a drunk, not by any means, but a lush. She loved wine. Though she could afford it, she didn't drink expensive wine. She was perfectly content with a fifteen-dollar bottle of chilled chardonnay. A few days a week, she and her friends would gather at one of their homes and knock down a few bottles before dispersing to cook dinner for their families. But sometimes the wine got the best of her. Sometimes it caused her to engage in conduct unbecoming a wife and mother.
Marie was a striking woman. One would never guess that she was weeks away from her fortieth birthday. Lustrous black hair flowed over her shoulders when it wasn't pulled back to reveal the high cheekbones and brown eyes that her Italian ancestry had bestowed upon her. Perfect white teeth peeked from between full lips, usually turned up into a smile and dabbed lightly with pink lip gloss, and provided a sweet contrast to her deep olive skin.
Barefoot, as she often was during the summer months, she stood a mere four inches above five feet. Soaking wet, as she often was around the family pool, she weighed a notch under 110 pounds. And, boy, could she fill a bathing suit! Not the one-piece ensembles that most of her friends wore, either.
Bikinis. Nothing so daring as string bikinis, but they still came in two pieces. The bottom piece fully covered her cunt, giving no hint of the landing strip that blazed up from the bare lips. The top hid the wide areolas that capped her 34D breasts, which sat high on her chest, natural but lifted after her last child. Only when wet did Marie's bikini tops reveal the short but thick nipples that provided the bull's-eye on her areolas.
Brad Jackson fucked this woman, twenty years his senior.
He never saw it coming. He had dreamt of her. He had eyed her through the years that he had known Marie's daughter. He had lubricated his thick cock in his private bathroom at home, spilling his seed into a wad of toilet paper, visions of Mrs. Carpelli wrapped in a stark white bikini clouding his senses. Still, he never saw it coming.
When the day finally arrived, Marie was not wearing such a bikini when Brad presented himself at the Carpelli home. Had he shown his rather innocent face an hour earlier, perhaps. After a few games of tennis at the club that morning, Marie had spent much of the remainder of the day in the sun, ensuring that her olive skin deepened even further. Her bronzed flesh had glimmered in the blistering heat, slicked with tanning oil, beads of perspiration bubbling between her soft tits and collecting in the small of her back.
But when her seventeen-year-old daughter Elizabeth returned from a day at the country club with her friends, she announced that some of her friends were coming over to hang around the pool for a few hours before they went out for the night.
Prudently, Marie elected to end her sunning for the day. By the time Elizabeth's friends had arrived, Marie was showered and dressed modestly in a white golf shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. As usual, she was barefoot, her tan skin highlighting her freshly painted pink toes.
She padded through the large home in suburban Northbrook and into the kitchen. Through windows sealed tight to ward off the sweltering August heat, Marie heard the "clunk" of the diving board followed by peels of laughter. She peeked out the kitchen window toward the pool.
Elizabeth and four or five of her female friends lounged on chaises or swam around the edges of the pool, their swim suits so daring for teenage girls. An equal number of boys, in baggy swimsuits hanging almost to their knees, were present as well, though most of them were either in the pool or flying through the air toward it, having catapulted themselves off the diving board.
Marie turned away from the window and padded across the kitchen toward the wine refrigerator. 'What a waste,' she thought. 'We've got a Viking wine cooler, and it's loaded with Kendall Jackson.' She pulled a chilled bottle from the box and popped the cork. After grabbing a wineglass from one of the cabinets, Marie stepped through the French doors that gave onto the raised wood deck. She sat at a wrought iron table in the shade of the house and poured a glass of the amber liquid, enjoying the last vestiges of the sunny afternoon.
Marie was barely through her glass of wine when Heather Bannister turned the corner of the house into the backyard.
"Hey, Marie," her best friend waved, climbing a few steps from the lawn up to the deck.
"And to what do I owe this surprise?"
"I was just out running some errands. Thought I'd stop by and say hello."
"Well, I'm glad you did. Have a seat. Care to join me?" Marie asked, nodding at the perspiring wine bottle.
"You know I do," Heather responded with a smile, falling into one of the chairs that surrounded the table.
Marie went into the house but returned just a moment later with an empty glass. After filling it (and giving herself a topper), the two suburban housewives clinked glasses, almost smacking their lips as the cool liquid slid down their throats.
"I see you got company today."
"Yeah. Elizabeth came home from the club. Said she invited all her friends over to go swimming." Marie shrugged, and took a sip of her wine.
"Where's Tony?" Heather asked, referring to Marie's husband.
"Working. Of course. He's doing some audit or something. I think its due in a few days, so he's been at the office late every day this week. The boys went to a Cubs game with Olivia and her son."
"Mmm," Heather hummed, taking a drink. Over the next hour or so, the two women sat in the shade of Marie's deck, trading gossip about neighbors, common friends, and certain members of the country club to which they both belonged. Two empty bottles sat on the table when Marie returned with a third, her gate unsteady as she passed through the French doors.
"How do you stand it?" Heather asked as Marie refilled both their glasses.
Heather nodded at the kids still horseplaying around the pool. "Look at those boys. They're not boys at all. They're men. Young men, but men all the same." Heather lit a cigarette while Marie responded.
"Yeah, but they're teenagers. And they're also Elizabeth's friends."
"Who cares whose friends they are? I don't. I can't keep my eyes off 'em."
"Heather!" Marie cried with a laugh. "I never knew you were such a tramp."
"Oh, Marie. Don't be such a fuckin' prude. I'm not a tramp. Not by any stretch. But I can look. I can fantasize. There's no harm in that, is there?"
"I guess not." Marie paused to take a sip at her wine glass. "But really, you don't want anyone of the prissy bitches in this neighborhood hearing you say things like that. They'll report you to the police. Call in the DCFS."
"Whatever. They're all of age aren't they?" Heather reached across the table and stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray, her eyes never leaving the general area of the Carpelli's pool. "Like that one. What's his name?"
"The one on the diving board. In the yellow trunks. What's his name?"
"That's Brad. He's the Jackson's boy. You've met Wendy Jackson before, haven't you?"
"I think so," Heather mumbled, the wine glass blurring her words. "She's that bitch who supposedly had an affair with the old tennis pro at the club."
"Mm-hm. That's her oldest. He's a year ahead of Elizabeth. He'll be a sophomore at Arizona State this fall."
"Mmm. What I could do to a boy like that." The two suburban housewives giggled wildly at Heather's lascivious behavior.
"Heather! Keep it clean, would you?"
Thirty minutes later, Heather begged off, having to get home and cook dinner for her family. After she left, Marie settled back to finish her glass of wine before going inside herself. The kids were still lounging around the pool with the sun setting behind them.
She was thinking about what to make herself for dinner, a rare night with no husband and no children to feed, when Brad Jackson bounded up the steps to the deck, water dripping down his hairless chest.
"Hi, Mrs. Carpelli," he greeted her without stopping on his way to the French doors. "Just need to use the bathroom."
"No problem, Brad," she responded, though by that time the door had already swung shut behind the young man.
Taking a final gulp of her wine, Marie rose on wobbly legs and collected the empty bottles, the glasses and the ash tray, taking them inside and setting them on the kitchen counter. The air in the house was cool and felt good against her hot skin. She put the bottles in a recycling bin and the glasses in the dishwasher and poured a glass of ice water.
Having played two games of tennis that morning, laid out by the pool all day, and then consumed close to a bottle-and-a-half of wine through the early hours of the evening, Marie was feeling somewhat light-headed. With the water glass gripped in her tanned fingers, she left the kitchen and padded into the family room, dropping her small frame onto the leather couch. She found the remote to the plasma television mounted on the opposite wall and turned it on. The opening song for CSI: New York blared in her ears as she repeated punched the volume button on the remote.
A moment later, Brad sauntered into the family room, his pace much slower after having relieved himself. He stopped short and Marie looked up to see a startled look on his face.
"Sorry, Brad. I didn't mean to scare you."
"No problem, Mrs. Carpelli. It's just that a minute ago you were outside, and now you're here. That's all." A quirky smile crossed his face, as though it were a revelation that a person could move from one place to the next in a matter of minutes.
'Not the brightest kid on the block,' Marie thought to herself.
"I had to get out the heat. I can't take it like you young kids can. Gets me dehydrated," she said, finishing her water.
"I bet the wine doesn't help, either, huh?"
"Wine is fine, Brad," she dryly responded. "But yeah, that dehydrates me, too."
"Here," he said, moving toward the married woman, his hand out. "Let me get you a refill."
"That's okay. I'll get it myself." She unfolded her legs as if to get up.
"Nonsense. I'm already up. I'll get it for you." Brad retrieved the glass from Marie's hand and she relaxed against the back of the couch. She heard ice clatter into a glass and then the tap on the front of her refrigerator click open.
In the kitchen, while the glass filled with water, Brad glanced through the French doors toward the pool. Elizabeth and his friends were still hanging around the edges of the pool. His eyes glazed over as images of Mrs. Carpelli stripped naked performing filthy acts with his cock flashed through his mind. With his free hand, he readjusted his aching cock. Ice-cold water pouring over his hand pulled him from his reverie, and he hurriedly found a towel to clean up the overflow.
When he returned to the family room, Brad handed the glass to Marie over her shoulder. Taking it, she turned her head up and around, facing him, her soft brown eyes looking so innocent and pure. "Thanks, Brad. You're a sweetheart."
"My pleasure, Mrs. Carpelli." He paused a moment. "You look exhausted."
"Just a little sore and a little thirsty, that's all. I played tennis for a while this morning and my muscles are a little tight."
Brad remained standing behind the housewife as she took a drink from the water glass. Placing his large fingers at the base of her neck, he said, "Put your head forward. This'll make you feel better." The warmth of her taut skin radiated through his fingertips and caused his cock to thicken and lengthen within his bathing suit.
Marie was startled at the contact. "Really, Brad. That isn't necessary."
"Of course it isn't. But I'll do it anyway. It'll rejuvenate you." Rather than protest the inappropriate contact between nineteen-year-old student and thirty-nine-year-old housewife, Marie allowed her head to slump forward, her lustrous black hair falling forward and hiding her olive-skinned beauty.
Brad's fingers dug into her tight neck muscles, kneading the flesh, and a small moan escaped Marie's full lips. When his massaging fingers strayed off her neck muscles to her shoulders, Marie's head flopped back, bumping against the young man's pelvis.
'Oh!' she thought, feeling a thick protrusion running diagonally across the back of her scalp. She leaned her head forward a few inches, terminating the contact. 'What that his cock?' she wondered, her sun-drenched head swimming in fermented Napa Valley grapes.
Brad continued to massage the housewife's shoulders and upper back. Intrigued at what had poked her in the back of the head, Marie gradually let her head fall back again against the young man. When it settled against his crotch, she knew she was right. Her head was resting against a thick but pliant ridge in Brad Jackson's bathing suit. She slowly moved her head from left to right, rubbing the rubbery protrusion. 'Ohmigod,' she thought, her eyes unseen to the young man but opening wide. 'It twitched.'
Brad took a step backward, breaking their contact, but his strong hands continued to massage Marie's shoulders. When he stepped back, she allowed her head to follow. She found herself looking back at him, her head upside-down, her world inverted.
Inches from her brown eyes, the rubbery ridge that had pressed into her skull squirmed beneath the yellow fabric of the young man's bathing suit. When it twitched again, Marie's glossy brown eyes drifted up to meet his.
He was watching her. He saw her glassy, wine-hazed eyes lock on his growing shaft, then go wide as it twitched.
Slowly, Marie raised her left hand from her lap, bringing it up behind her. With her head still hanging off the back of the couch, she reached toward Brad until her elegant hand found his hip. Her pink nails search for and found the edge of the pocket of his bathing suit and closed around the fabric. She pulled the young man closer to her inverted face.
Or, more accurately, she pulled the young man's cock closer to her inverted lips.
She kept pulling until the front of his bathing suit brushed against her high forehead. Until the fabric grazed over her elegant nose. Marie turned her head slightly to the side, her manicured fingers still gripping the damp fabric, still pulling him until she felt the stiff shaft press against her soft, tan cheek, confirming what she already knew: Brad Jackson wanted to fuck her right in her own house, while her daughter and her friends were in the backyard splashing away in the pool.
Marie released her grip on Brad's pocket. Her long fingers sought and found the drawstring to his bathing suit. As a two pink nails pulled the string, her eyes floated again to his. There was no discomfort in his deep blue eyes. There was no fear there. Only confidence.
The drawstring gave way to her tugs.
"Pull it down," she whispered, the provocative words tumbling across her lips without having been checked first by her brain.
"Pull it down yourself, Mrs. Carpelli," the confident young man commanded.
Still prone and upside-down, her radiant hair cascading over the back of the couch, Marie arched her muscular back and raised her other hand behind her. The long, elegant fingers of each tanned hand closed around the damp fabric of the young man's swimming trunks. She tugged, trying to coax the material over his trim but muscular hips. As the bathing suit slid slowly down, Brad's blonde pubic hair came into her view. The smell of chlorine and suntan lotion mixed with sweat and permeated her flaring nostrils.
Marie pulled more, harder, revealing the pinkish root to his shaft. She was straining, her back arched off the couch, her large tits wobbling in their bra, her arms barely able to extend any further. With a final downward tug, Brad's bathing suit let go, sliding down his thighs and falling to the floor, a puddle around his hairless calves and ankles.
Marie's tugging had forced Brad's young cock to a downward angle, but when the bathing suit fell, releasing it, the shaft sprung back up, whisking through her silky hair, right by her ear. The thick tube of pink flesh bobbed before her upside-down face, just inches from her soft, full lips. Her wet, pink tongue darted out, glossing over her lips.
"Give me that," she whispered in her own command.
Brad stepped forward. His overheated cockhead brushed against Marie's full lips. Her silky tongue snaked out again, but Brad tilted his pelvis, removing his cock from the path of the searching organ.
Marie's eyes shot from his cock to his smirking face. "I said give me that," she hissed.
"Give you what?" Brad taunted, his voice matter-of-fact.
"Give me that cock," the intoxicated married woman pleaded.
"Give it to you where?" Brad enjoyed this game of cat-and-mouse, swinging his heavy cock close to her yearning lips.
"In my mouth," she breathed. "I want it in my mouth!"
"You mean you want me to put my cock in your mouth, Mrs. Carpelli?" the young man teased, his voice feigning innocence as the hot flesh of his cockhead swiped across her shiny lips.
"Yyyeeesss," came the responsive hiss.
"You want me to fuck your pretty little face," he began, his rubbery cockhead tickling the tip of Marie's nose, "just like I fuck your daughter's pretty little face?"
Marie opened her mouth to respond, but Brad didn't give her the opportunity. As her full lips parted, Brad dropped the head of his cock against them and slid the length of his shaft into her warm, wet mouth. Her lips closed instantly around the invading shaft, pulling his foreskin back, eliciting a groan from deep in his throat.
He withdrew, Marie's lip gloss smearing along the length of his fat shaft. When he pushed back in, his cockhead bumped against the back of her throat, causing her to gag. Saliva ran from the corner of her mouth, leaving a glimmering streak along her cheek.
Withdrawing again from the welcoming mouth, Brad leaned forward, his hands searching out Marie's large tits. Squeezing the supple flesh in his fingers, feeling it squish between them, Brad pushed his pelvis forward again. Marie's soft lips clamped tightly around the assaulting rod and her nipples stiffened and swelled against the young man's palms.
When Brad pulled his pelvis back, his cock plopped from her mouth. A ropy string of saliva mixed with pre-cum connected the tip of his cock to her upper lip before it snapped, falling to the unfaithful mother's tanned nose and forehead. The same concoction of spit and pre-cum dripped from both sides of her mouth, streaking her checks and sliding down to her neck.
Marie's chest heaved and her thick nipples pulsed in Brad's palms. Taking her distended buds between his thumbs and forefingers, Brad shoved his cock back into the married woman's mouth. He manipulated her nipples, fucking her angelic face simultaneously. Moans emanated from her slender throat, reverberating through his slicing shaft, causing his swinging balls to tingle.
Marie's hands rose again and sought out Brad's ass cheeks. She pulled him into her sucking face, her manicured nails digging into the pale flesh of his ass. His cock banged against the back of her throat, causing her to gag again, her soft brown eyes tearing.