Chapter 5
It was Connor who suggested it, and when he did Marcia knew at once that she should have said no. They could find someone else. They could ask Connor’s Ma and Pa to come over for a few nights. Anything but this! But Marcia had said nothing and Connor had put it to his friend David when he met him for one of their occasional games of racquetball.
“I’m sure she’ll be delighted,” David had said when Connor had first asked him if Alyssa would be able to babysit for them on Friday evening.
“It’ll only be till around 11’o clock, unless of course Alyssa wants to crash with us, as Marcia will be returning to make sure everything’s fine with the kids. Since it’s the company’s annual dinner, she’s letting me stay at the hotel overnight.”
There were still two days left until the dinner. That evening, Marcia asked Connor if he didn’t think Alyssa was a little old for that kind of thing and if they weren’t imposing on her. Connor told her that David had already got back to say that Alyssa was really looking forward to seeing the boys again.
Marcia felt like telling her husband that she didn’t even know the boys’ names, but what was she to do. Making a fuss would suggest she knew something about the girl that might disqualify her from the job. Marcia could hardly tell him that she was afraid the young lady might try and seduce her. She definitely couldn’t tell him that she might want her to.
Just when Marcia had reconciled herself to coming home and relieving the girl (she had her own car, as Marcia had learned when they did the creché together), Connor suggested that Marcia stay with him at the hotel. The sex had been so good recently that he thought the change of venue, plus the effect of the food and wine, would guarantee another unforgettable evening.
It is a reflection of her highly volatile state that when Connor put this idea to her 24 hours before the event, Marcia told him they didn’t know Alyssa very well and they couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t fall asleep or go into the yard for a smoke or whatever. She felt it was best to stick with the arrangements they had made. Maybe next year, though, she suggested.
When Connor thought of all the staff coming to the function from the company’s branch offices around the tri-state region, he wasn’t altogether disappointed that his wife had said no, but he was pleased that he had asked – showing her he wanted her to be there – and pleased too that she had thought so long and hard about things before deciding, as she had added, to give him the chance to really let his hair down with the boys.
It is another reflection of her state of mind that she started to think about what she would wear: not to the dinner (she had already decided on that) but when she got back – after she had taken a shower – before she sat down with Alyssa for a bit of girl’s talk. For a moment she even considered the short red silk nightdress embroidered with black lace around the generous V neckline. She had bought this online at great expense for their upcoming wedding anniversary but reckoned she could try it on tomorrow night to check that it fitted her nice and snugly. Dismissing such ideas as so much silliness, she got down to a bit of sewing and mending that needed to be done, before she turned in for the night, giving Connor a kiss on the mouth that left him wanting more.
Since Connor went to the hotel where the dinner was being held straight from work, Marcia was on her own when Alyssa arrived shortly after six. For Marcia, who had been wondering what the girl would be wearing, it was a source of some disappointment that she had spent so little care on her dress, just throwing on a sweatshirt that had seen better days and some old jeans, which were ripped in places (though not in an intentionally trendy way) and were even marked with some old stains. Her trainers too were scuffed and looked as if they were ready for the trash can.
Alyssa did at least compliment Marcia on her outfit: a short-sleeved, relatively tight-fitting turquoise dress with a conservative below-the-knee hemline. The younger woman thought that it showed off Marcia’s curves to good effect and told her so, as she took off her backpack and placed it on a chair by the door.
“You’ll definitely have the eyes of many of the men on you,” she said to Marcia, who coloured slightly, while noting that she said nothing about the women.
“I’m sure there will be many women there who are a lot younger than me,” she replied, knowing she was angling for compliments but not caring whether she was or not.
“It’s not just about age,” said Alyssa, touching Marcia on the arm and sending sparks shooting through her body. “It’s about what you’ve got inside and how much empathy you have…and are willing to share.”
Feeling a little more flustered than she cared to admit with the direction the conversation was taking, Marcia said goodbye to the children (telling them to be good and to do what Alyssa told them) and then, not knowing exactly how to manage the parting from her babysitter, even though she could have just walked straight out the front door to her waiting car, stood awkwardly in front of her and fiddled with the clutch bag she was holding.
“Enjoy yourself,” Alyssa said, sensing her clumsiness, before leaning forward and kissing her on the cheek.
Marcia muttered a hurried “Good night” and fled into the semi-darkness, so flustered that she went to the passenger’s side of the car before realising her mistake and doubling back to the driver’s side.
It was only a 30-minute drive to the hotel across town, but Marcia needed all that time to compose herself. She had told Connor she’d be there by seven and she was going to be in plenty of time. So much so that she decided to pull across at a convenience store and buy some mouth spray. In the end, she bought the most expensive the shop stocked, a herbal mist, which she placed on the passenger seat when she got back into her car. Before turning the engine back on, she told herself to make this evening about Connor and to be the loving wife. When she thought about some of the other couples who would be there she knew that she was lucky to be in a loving, caring and supportive relationship. Thus buoyed up, she travelled the remaining five minutes to the venue, handed her keys to the valet and walked in to see who’d arrived and hopefully find Connor.
Given the earliness of the hour, there were a lot of people already at the venue, some at the bar, others mingling amongst the tables in the ballroom, which had been converted into a vast dining room for the evening. Marcia had barely entered the room when she was hailed by Devon, one of the few black men who worked for giant accounting firm. Looking around for Sabrina, Devon’s wife, Marcia went up to Devon and kissed him on each cheek.
“My better half’s taking a call in the car park,” he explained. “Her phone is only silent when I hide it. I once threw one of them away. I think you know that, right?”
Marcia nodded. She remembered the fallout from that incident well. She was convinced they were going to get divorced, which Sabrina could have handled in her sleep – and without her phone – since she was a family lawyer.
“So many damned couples are getting divorced,” Devon continued in that sardonic way of his. “What can we do to keep them together, Marcia?”
“You should share your secret with them, Devon,” Marcia replied with a smile.
“Us?! You kidding?! She’s forever threatening me with trial separations and injunctions and restraining orders.”
“It’s what keeps you together, Devon. She needs someone to keep her sharp. You’re her whetstone.”
“Whetstone?! Hey, girl, I like that. I’ll pitch that to her later tonight. I think she may dig it.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve seen Connor, have you?”
“Why the rush, babe? Let me get you a drink. What will you be having?”
“Just a lime soda. I have to keep sober so I can relieve the babysitter. You guys are lucky having Sabrina’s folks living so near.”
“Lucky?!” cried Devon. “You call it lucky to have that battle-axe on your doorstep?”
“Oh, Devon, you’re incorrigible. Why don’t you go and get me that drink and I’ll give my husband a quick call.”
As it happened, Connor was tied up with the two people who were going to emcee the evening. There had been one or two last-minute changes in terms of personnel attending, the most important of which was the unexpected arrival of the CEO of the national operation, who had originally been scheduled to be in Mexico meeting a delegation from the EU. The final meeting of that congress had been cancelled (or, more accurately, moved to become the opening segment of next year’s congress), which meant that Big Tone, as he was affectionately known, was free to attend this shindig. What it also meant was that everyone would feel – rightly or wrongly – that they needed to be on their best behaviour, although in terms of exactly how long that feeling would last, Marcia for one had her doubts.
By the time Marcia finally hooked up with Connor it was well past eight and the dinner had already begun. She was quite happy in the interim to chat with the others at her table of eight, which included two couples she knew reasonably well in addition to Devon and Sabrina. Sabrina wondered why she hadn’t asked the babysitter to stay the night, so that she could spend the night with the rest of them at the hotel. Marcia replied, quite truthfully, that it was Connor who had made the arrangements and he had been under the impression that Alyssa was still at school.
“Typical man!” Sabrina responded, before adding, “at least he didn’t suggest you took the hotel room while he went home to relieve her.”
Marcia almost choked on the cherry tomato she was eating, which everyone took as the effect of her laughing at the expense of her husband, who chose that exact moment to take his place next to his wife at the table. When the joke was explained to him, he created even more merriment when he said that in this day and age how could he know what his wife might get up to with the babysitter in his absence.
“You’ve been watching too much porn, bro,” said Devon, while Sabrina also chipped in, saying that he was only jealous because he wanted to join them for a threesome.
“Everyone man’s dream,” joked Marcia, as the table enjoyed their joke at Connor’s expense.
Chapter 6
Marcia glanced at her phone under the table. The display flashed up 10:25. She only had a few more minutes to wait until she would have to leave. The men at the table – and a couple of the women, Sabrina included – were enjoying brandy after the meal, while Marcia was sipping on a camomile tea. She’d decided quite early during the evening that she wouldn’t take any alcohol, and it had been quite instructive (as it always is in these situations) to watch the behaviour of the others as they got a little stoked.
The real eye-opener had been Sabrina, who was sitting between Marcia and Jeff, whose wife was sitting across the table next to Connor. She had always had a mouth on her, and as the evening progressed she treated the company to a number of risqué jokes as well as acidic comments on some of the less reputable members of her profession. She also seemed to become increasingly friendly with Jeff as the night wore on. At one point, her right hand disappeared beneath the table and it was all Marcia could do not to imagine where it might have made landfall. She managed a surreptitious glance across at Jeff, on the pretext of beckoning a waiter over, but noted nothing out of the ordinary in his demeanour. Anyway, the errant hand soon reappeared as the chat turned to the table prize draw which was about to take place.
Marcia checked her phone again and saw that it was time to go. Everyone was sorry to see her go but she realized they’d soon forget all about her with the draw and the highlight of the evening, the singing and dancing still to look forward to. She offered her cheek to each of the men and women in turn before receiving a big cheer (from beyond just the confines of her own table) when she gave Connor a big wet kiss on the lips. It was to the bawdy cries of the men and the hysterical laughter of the women that she made her way to the hotel entrance and thence into her car, which arrived as if by magic almost before she had stepped into the cool night air.
Once she’d belted up, Marcia saw the fragrant spray mist on the passenger seat and applied a liberal amount to her mouth, tasting it against her teeth. She drove back more slowly than she had come, but since there was so little traffic about she arrived home in 20 minutes. As she drove into the driveway she noted that there was very little light coming from the house. Her immediate thought was that Alyssa had fallen asleep on the couch.
She made her way in, quietly, as if she didn’t want to wake the babysitter, and walked into the living room. A floor lamp was on but apart from that there was no one here. She checked the kitchen, the downstairs bathroom and the utility room, but they were all dark and unoccupied. With a mounting sense of expectation that she could only compare to the feeling you get when you are watching a thriller, she began to ascend the stairs. She paused on the landing half way up to check if she could hear any noise. She couldn’t, but she could see the band of light cast by the night light in the kids’ room, and – “Oh my God!” – she sensed rather than saw the light coming from her bedroom, the bedroom she shared with Connor.
After one minute, maybe two, composing herself, practising what she would say to the girl, politely asking her to leave, telling her she had taken advantage of her situation and that they wouldn’t be using her again, she walked to the top of the stairs and paused again before turning to her left. As soon as she turned, she was able to see what she had been picturing in her imagination for some minutes now: Alyssa lying on the bed, dressed not in her old jeans but in the sexy nightdress Marcia had bought in celebration of the twelfth year of her marriage to Connor.
“Oh, fuck!” Marcia spoke under her breath, but loudly enough so that the girl could hear.
She had once last opportunity to do the right thing. She could stride into the room, turn the lights on, and give Alyssa five (no, two) minutes to get dressed and get out of her house. Instead, she walked softly into the sanctuary she shared with her husband, closed the door gently, kicked off her shoes and walked to the side of the bed nearest to where Alyssa was lying. She then turned her back to the babysitter in a clear invitation for her to unzip her dress.
Alyssa moved across the bed like a panther and did as she had wordlessly been bidden. She let her hands accompany the blue fabric as it slid down her sides, over her hips and past her thighs. She marvelled at the firmness and roundness of the married woman’s butt. She removed the bands and clips holding up Marcia’s chestnut hair and watched as the older woman shook it loose. She moved her hands unerringly to the clasp on her bra and released the teeth. The flaps flew aside but the bra remained in place, supported by those tits that Alyssa had so often thought about. Again, without a word spoken by either woman, Marcia turned round to face Alyssa, who kneeled high on the bed so that they were at almost the same height.
“The bra can look after itself,” Alyssa reasoned.
She moved the short distance into Marcia and began kissing her, softly at first, as she had intended. Something snapped in the older woman and she dove her tongue deep into Alyssa’s mouth and pushed her roughly back onto the bed. Alyssa watched as the bra fell on its own initiative to the floor. Marcia’s boobs were even more incredible than she had imagined them to be.
Lying on top of the younger girl, Marcia began to rub her private parts furiously against Alyssa’s. She thought she couldn’t be any more turned on than she already was but the thought of the babysitter stealing into her room and going through her clothes until she found her nightdress took her libido to heights she had never known. She wanted to call Alyssa names but decided not to. Instead she sought out the babysitter’s mouth once more and continued where she had left off, her tongue ravaging Alyssa’s mouth. Taking the girl’s arms she made her defenceless by raising them above her head and then using one hand to capture them both around the wrist. She moved her spare hand to Alyssa’s perky tits and was about to kneed them through the silk fabric when she had a change of plan. The minx needed to be taught a lesson.
Her hand continued down until it reached the hem of the nightie, which had ridden up well above the knee. Moving her hand under the shiny silk, she arrived at a pair of what were clearly extremely skimpy panties (so that’s what the girl was carrying in her backpack!) and slipped her fingers under the flimsy barrier presented by one of the leg openings. She paused there for a moment to allow the desire to build up in her seductress before (still kissing her passionately) letting one finger sink into her pussy.
She could feel rather than hear Alyssa crying out into her mouth. It was so incredibly sensual that Marcia slipped a second finger into her pussy, which was so wet that Marcia thought it could double for a well. The thought of all that liquid made Marcia feel so dry that she knew there was only one way to slake her thirst. Alyssa’s mouth could wait.
She moved lithely along Alyssa’s tight little body until her head was between her legs. She knew she had reached her destination by the odour that was positively assaulting her nostrils. Leaving the flimsy outer garment on, she peeled down the girl’s red panties. What serendipity, she thought, that they matched her sexy outfit! It was quite dark in the room, but she could go perfectly well by touch and smell. She parted the slender petals that stood guard over her pussy and dipped a finger into her vagina, which sucked it in greedily as if it didn’t want to let it go.
She knew what the girl wanted, though, and she had no intention of disappointing her, since she wanted it too. Withdrawing her finger with a little plop!, she replaced it with her tongue. She’d read about this in magazines in cellophane wrappers she had bought from the top shelf of gas stations in out of town gas stations. She moved her muscle as languidly as she could up and down Alyssa’s gash and then alighted on her clitoris, which was not difficult to locate. Alyssa gasped and indicated she wanted more, there. A minute or so was all it took for Marcia to drive the girl over the edge. She felt so much in control. What a wonderful feeling it was!
Chapter 7
She wanted to revisit her pussy proper, but Alyssa had other ideas. Being more experienced than the older woman, she knew the benefits of delayed gratification and had developed the patience and range of skills necessary to achieve it with her partners. She had to admit she was tempted to break her rules with Marcia but she took a couple of deep breaths and, getting her to lie in the centre of the bed, kissed her once again on the mouth (this time less feverishly) before dropping to Marcia’s chest, which she had been unable to get out of her mind even when the married woman was licking her out. They were quite simply the most perfect pair of tits she had ever laid her eyes upon.
“I knew you had fabulous breasts,” Alyssa said, “but not that they were this perfect.”
“I couldn’t believe it when I saw you lying on my bed in my nightdress,” said Marcia. “Even in my wildest fantasies you were never doing that.”
“It’s much better than make-belief, isn’t it?” Alyssa added.
“I think I’m about to find out. I hope I did a good enough job for a rookie.”
“You were great. I’m going to slow it down a bit now, and that way we’ll discover just what you enjoy. Just tell me if there’s anything you really want me to do, or if there’s anything you don’t like.”
“I don’t think you could do anything I didn’t like except to stop,” the mother of two replied, even as the 22-year-old began running her fingers over her mounds, which were beautifully topped off by tall, broad nipples.
It was all Alyssa could do not to suck on those fabulous buds, which appeared to be thrusting themselves at her, begging for attention. She was as good as her word, though, and stuck to her plan, massaging the firm globes, being careful to avoid the nipples in order to avoid triggering a sensory overload.
As if she was feeling thwarted, Marcia started to wriggle and even to thrust her pelvis up towards Alyssa. The more experienced lover knew that this meant she was impatient for her to eat her out, but also knew that a more patient approach would reap dividends in the long run. She smiled as she recalled Marcia getting so flustered in the crèche and breaking off their conversation so abruptly. She may have been older than her, she may have been a mother of two, but she definitely needed to learn patience, and Alyssa was well equipped to be her teacher.
Alyssa made one concession to Marcia by bringing her tongue into play, sweeping it over the stunning boobs but still declining to make contact with her nipples. She knew she was pleasing the older woman, as she began to moan rhythmically even as her nipples became almost impossibly distended. Those moans turned into something resembling a growl as Alyssa moved her skilful tongue onto Marcia’s aching nipple.
“Oh, God, yes, don’t stop!” Marcia barked at Alyssa, her fingernails in danger of ripping the bedsheets.
Fortunately for Marcia, Alyssa had only just got going and was in no mood to stop any time soon. She herself faced her own temptations, however, as a powerful desire to stick a finger in the sexy mom’s pussy threatened to overwhelm her.
“First things first,” she chided herself, redoubling her efforts on the bloated nipples.
“I wish I was a baby again, so I could drink milk from these teats,” she said to Marcia as she took a brief break.
“I want you to suckle like my boys used to,” said Marcia. “I don’t want you to be too gentle with me. I want to feel how badly you need me.”
This was the kind of invitation Alyssa found it very difficult to turn down. After a minute or so of sucking and licking, she could feel that Marcia was close to coming. Should she or shouldn’t she, she wondered? If she slipped a finger inside her pussy, she knew the woman would come immediately, but she somehow felt it was cheating. Again, her measured and professional approach prevailed, and remembering what Marcia had said to her, she nipped the swollen bud lightly with her teeth. This proved to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, as Marcia cried out and let wave after wave of orgasm sweep over her.
At last, Alyssa thought, the cherry was ripe to be plucked. Even she had her limits as far as patience was concerned. She didn’t mean it as an insult to Yvette, but this woman had class. Her husband was nice and good looking, and if she was into men she would definitely want to have him too. She did wonder what direction the soccer mom’s life would take after this night, but that was an issue for Marcia to consider. Alyssa didn’t see herself as a home-wrecker but as someone who held the key to a room that provided views that the occupant had never seen before; had never even considered before. It was up to the occupant to decide how much use she wanted to make use of this room and the various avenues it opened up for her.
She actually envied bi women. The thought of penis had always revolted her – there was just no other way to put it. But women she knew who liked, as well as women, men and all that came with them (their poor hygiene, their bad habits, their cluelessness about so many things – starting with themselves) were among the happiest (and successful) she knew. Sometimes she actually thought she was missing something as a person: not a man, but something else. Compassion maybe? Would she end up old and lonely?
“What the heck!” she thought. “Why am I indulging in such melancholic musings? I’m staring at one hell of a beautiful pussy, belonging to a woman who has probably never been unfaithful to her husband with a man or a woman. I am one privileged dyke!”
This pep talk made a world of difference to Alyssa. Shedding her whininess and self-pity, she got down to the serious business of the evening: the eating of this peach of a pussy. She’d hardly made the first contact of tongue with fleshy lips when Marcia sighed deeply and let out a long “fuck!” As tightly wound women went this one took the cake! Alyssa couldn’t wait to witness the noise she would make when she was brought to orgasm again. She hoped it wouldn’t wake the kids. Maybe she should at least lock the door?
“Oh, fuck it!” she thought. “What’s life without a bit of danger?”
She’d hardly made three or four more gentle laves of the opening to Marcia’s pussy when the orgasm started to rack her body. Just how tightly wound had this woman been? What sort of stuff was she made of that she could switch from being a straight woman whom she guessed had never so much as kissed a girl on the lips to a woman who enjoyed sex with other women so much that she simply couldn’t take more than a taste without being sent over the edge. How much would she want to experience tonight? How much loving would she be able to take? Alyssa had never met someone like this; had never heard other women speak about this kind of raw desire. What is more, she’d never experienced this kind of intensity herself – nor been the channel through which it was provided. She actually felt a little scared.
“Do you need a break?” asked Alyssa, as she walked to the door to lock it.
“A break? Why? I’m just getting started. Are you tired with me already?”
Rather than answer her, Alyssa got her to turn over on her hands and knees and prepared to work on her ass. Once again, she marvelled at the way this woman had been put together. Everything was – she wasn’t quite sure how to put it – so economically done; so neatly put together. The pussy lips didn’t so much hang down pendulously, as they did on some women, as adorn and embellish her shapely ass, like a beautiful trim on a drape. They provided the sort of distraction Alyssa could well do without if she was going to do justice to the shapely ass and its gorgeous button.
She began simply by massaging each cheek with her hands, adding pressure in response to Marcia’s body language, as she raised her ass higher.
“God, how can I resist that pussy?” Alyssa muttered to herself. “I can see the juices sparkling in the light from the lamp on the nightstand.”
She knew it would be hopeless unless she changed things up a bit. If she just continued rubbing her firm globes, the temptation would simply overwhelm her and her mouth would be clamped to that dripping cunt within seconds. So she brought her tongue to the married woman’s ass and began to lick her soft, smooth skin. It was, she had to admit, incredibly enjoyable. She made a note to herself to take time out in the future to include this languid activity in her lovemaking.
Marcia was clearly enjoying the experience as well, as she told her lover not to stop. Alyssa knew exactly what the subtext to this request was: she wanted her to apply her tongue to her sweet, puckered asshole.
“Damn it!” she thought. “Why not?”
Unable to think of a compelling reason, she started to moisten the woman’s bud, dropping a line of saliva onto the pink entranceway. She wondered if her husband had ever licked her here. She very much doubted it. Her experience with married women had showed that most men avoided the ass – unless they were drunk; and even then they only wanted to bludgeon their way in with their penis.
Following the pattern that had already been established, Marcia appeared very keen for Alyssa to open new avenues for her. When the girl’s tongue touched her tight bud, she gasped loudly and told her not to stop. It was like a refrain now: “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” Alyssa felt so darned horny that she started to play with herself even as she rimmed Marcia’s asshole. Sensing that the woman was eager to achieve another climax, without removing her fingers from her own pussy, she slipped two fingers from her other hand into Marcia’s flooded opening, and increased the intensity of her expert anal tongue-work. This time they came together, their cries echoing back and forth across the room.