4 days ago. Sat 08 Dec 2018 07:40:33 AM IST
Life is supposed to be full of adventure. That's what Marcia Bridges always thought. Ever since she was a girl, she had been obsessed with the seemingly endless opportunity to explore life's great unknowns. To go somewhere she had never gone. To eat something she had never eaten. To love someone she shouldn't be loving. Tomorrow was always brings opportunity, but for Marcia Bridges, tomorrow was something that never seemed to come.
Marcia was a pragmatic person. Pragmatic most of all, but nothing if not pragmatic. Despite her wonder at what tomorrow might bring, she always focused on the now. She studied hard, worked diligently, and married young. Children she would put off until her career was established. Of course, it wouldn't at all be reasonable for anyone to expect her to raise a child while she had to work until almost 11pm most weeknights. Slowly, tomorrow would become next week, then next month, then year, and finally, thirty years from now when she was retired.
By the time Marcia realized the truth about life - that it could be boring, and very predictable - the youthful naivety that facilitated the illusion of opportunity was long gone. That is, if she ever really had it in the first place. It was nothing worth crying over and certainly not something to be ashamed of. Not everyone could afford to live out their fantasies, after all. Fantasies, by their very nature, drew their appeal from the fact that they were so divorced from reality. And her reality only served to make her fantasies even more vivid.
This Friday night had marked three months since she and her husband had put in a decided effort to start a family. Their sex life was unremarkable. Adequate would have been a better way to think about it but Marcia had decided that anything that was merely adequate could also be described quite accurately as unremarkable. Her husband, Sam, had himself always struck her as adequate. He was an adequate student when they met ten years prior while she was at college. He presented himself adequately to her father, who in turn held adequate opinion of her marrying him. He held an adequate position at an adequately performing company and brought them adequate profits to earn adequate pay, so he could provide her with an incredibly adequate life. As he lay between her thighs, thrusting slowly and stifling his own grunts though the closest neighbour was a hundred yards away, she couldn't get over how much he disgusted her.
That thought, it was something to be ashamed of.
Marcia had been having a lot of those recently. They came and went throughout the day, sometimes invading her consciousness before she could stop herself, other times requiring her to bite her tongue in order to maintain respect for her surroundings. Sam's body stiffened as he climaxed and collapsed on top of her. She cradled his head as his sweat-stained body soiled the lace negligee that he couldn't even muster the enthusiasm to take off her before having his way. He kissed her neck roughly, clumsy kisses than annoyed her more than anything else but it was his way of showing affection. Or thanks. Whichever came first. She turned her head to the nightstand where the blinking red digits of the clock flashed at her. He had lasted four minutes. Almost five.
She gasped as Sam slid out of her and rolled over to his back. His chest heaved as he took deep, wheezing breaths. Within minutes he was asleep and Marcia laid there, unsatisfied but not necessarily frustrated, while his snoring filled the room. It didn't bother her now, like it had done when she was younger. In fact, she almost enjoyed it. The sounds of Sam's snoring drowned out her thoughts. Like white noise that allowed her to focus on nothing while her fingers trailed between her legs so she could complete what Sam had left unfinished. She brought herself to climax, as she always did, and finished by biting her knuckle in order to stop herself from moaning out loud. Afterwards, she turned away from Sam and brought her fingers to her lips so she could taste herself. She was aware that Sam wasn't snoring anymore, but that was fine. Passive-aggression was practically their love language at this point and, as she closed her eyes, she struggled to recall whether she had remembered to take her birth control that morning.
Of course she did. And that was enough to allow her to drift peacefully off to sleep.
Saturdays were her day. She had convinced herself that she had deserved it. She would spend the morning cleaning things that the maid had already cleaned throughout the week before doing some shopping and returning home to prepare dinner for herself and her husband. At least, that's what she should have been doing.
Instead she spent the entire morning in bed with her laptop propped against her thighs. After taking a shower to get Sam's scent off her body, as well as fixing herself a mug of coffee, she had browsed what had quickly become her favourite blog.
She had come across it randomly while browsing at work. Randomly was a bad way to put it. She had satisfied her curiosity after bribing the nineteen-year-old IT technician to remove the firewall from her system.
Initially she thought the blog was run by a couple. A man and a woman who were very open about their sex lives. Adventurous, even. To say it piqued her interest was to say not nearly enough. She had become engrossed in their sexuality. The way they interacted with each other. The way he presented her and made her look like a polished trophy that was displaying to the world. She wanted that. Needed it, even. At least, she needed to think she needed it.
The blog had been updated the night before. While Marcia was stuck in bed with nothing but Sam's incompetent gyrations and her own fingers to keep her company, elsewhere, somewhere in the world, another woman was taking everything Marcia could ever dream of, and then some. She studied the pictures that had been uploaded, reading the captions and then studying the picture again as she tried to place herself in the moment.
She let her fingers wander as she did. She licked her lips and wondered what it would feel like to have his cock in her mouth. To feel his bulbous cockhead scraping at the roof of her mouth. To drag her lips along his veiny shaft and have him grab her hair as he forced her to grind her nose against his pubic region. The fact that his partner always wore a mask made it easier for her to place herself in the woman's shoes, whoever she was. She placed the laptop beside her and used one hand to navigate last night's gallery while the other teased her slit. She loved how the photos escalated, from things Marcia thought she wanted all the way to things she would let him do to her. She always edged before the end but had learned to keep herself there before she got to the last photo. Today was especially rough for her and when she got to the final image - of his partner on her hands and knees, buttocks bruised, cunt soaking wet with a slightly gaping anus, along with thick ropes of his ejaculate splattered across her lower back - she felt proud of herself.
She writhed in bed and let the waves of pleasure wash over her. She needed this, whatever it was, and knew that Sam would never provide it. She brought her fingers to her lips again, indulging in her own flavor absent-mindedly while she calmed herself down. She still had things to do, after all, and couldn't afford to spend all day fingering herself like she could as a teenager.
As she sat herself upright and reached for the laptop again, Marcia noticed something about the final picture. She wasn't the type of woman to overly concern herself with other women's genitals. Other than passing thoughts inspired from this very blog, at least. But upon closer inspection, and by referencing older photos on the site, Marcia was able to confirm that this woman was not the same in the previous gallery. In fact, no woman appeared to be featured in a gallery more than once.
Marcia bit her fingertip girlishly. The realization seemed so obvious now and she wondered how the thought had escaped her for so long. She moved her cursor over to the donate link and left a tip, as she usually did whenever she found the gallery particularly satisfying, before bringing herself to get her chores done. She had to keep herself busy today because from the moment she had realized what was happening in those galleries, mischievous thoughts had begun to invade Marcia's mind once again. Sly thoughts. Wicked thoughts. She enjoyed the threat of them, that someone like her could even begin to entertain such wicked aspiration. For the first time in a long time, Marcia Bridges saw...opportunity.
It had been weeks since Marcia had come to her understanding as to the true nature of the blog. At first, she tried to stay away from it but Sam's poor sexual performance would lead to her solo expeditions into her own sexuality. What she would find scared her at first. It was like the images she had seen there were burned into her psyche. Every time she tried to climax through less-than-exciting fantasies, they would flash in her mind at the moment of climax as though trying to remind her of what she truly wanted. She had to give masturbation up, or tried to, but that didn't last very long.
Her frustrations grew until, finally, she capitulated by allowing herself to masturbate while recalling the images in her mind. That much was enough. At first. Soon she once again masturbated by imagining herself in the position of those strange women. She wanted dearly to express her sexuality as fiercely as they did, something Sam would never allow her to do, and eventually, even her fantasies left her unsatisfied. The thoughts she had struggled against for weeks following that morning eventually sprung forward once again from the recesses of her mind. She knew what they meant and what they urged her to do. Weeks ago, the thought scared her but, now, she felt inspired, empowered even, to take the opportunity that lay before her.
It shocked Marcia how easy it was to take the necessary steps once she had decided to throw caution to the wind and finally satisfy her desires. She had pondered over how she would explain the trip she was about to take to Sam. In her mind, there was no way she could excuse herself being gone for days to her husband without him getting suspicious.
It had been far simpler than she had imagined. She simply said she was taking a business trip and Sam accepted it. He didn't ask what it was for. He didn't ask where she was going or for how long. He simply accepted it. Even as Marcia booked her ticket, she thought Sam was pitiable. Foolish, but pitiable. Even confirming the purchase was a thrill to her. Her heart was racing in her chest as the bright green checkmark appeared on screen. Things were in motion now. She had crossed the threshold from fantasy and harmless flirting too action and intent. It was going to be glorious.
It had been a long time since Marcia allowed herself to feel sexy. Instead of her usual attire, she wore a simple black dress tonight. It showed just enough cleavage to draw attention to her assets and was tight enough to accentuate the shapely curves she had developed and gracefully maintained from a background in track & field. The past three days had been nerve-wracking. She swung from pacing in her hotel room, phone in hand and ready to call Sam so she could explain herself and beg for forgiveness, all the way to cursing the very thought of him if it would interrupt her while she browsed the blog and tried to make a mental checklist of all the things she planned to have done to her.
Regardless of how she felt, it was too late to back out now.
The man she met was nothing like Sam. He was taller, younger, but not by much, and simply oozed sex appeal. He had a deep voice and full lips that Marcia couldn't wait to kiss. His hands were large and when he touched her, she could feel that his fingertips were rough against her skin. Just imagining them being shoved inside her holes made her soak the black thong she was wore to avoid pantylines.
They met in a public place as was agreed upon, but soon caution was thrown to the wind as she allowed him to take her back to his hotel. She loved the way he led her. She held his arm and pressed close to his body as he checked them in. They thickness of his limbs and the way his muscles bulged as he casually moved made her feel like she had made the right choice. All apprehension faded away as she followed him into the elevator. She was close to what she wanted. Finally. She tried to maintain an air of mystery and restraint, but it was clear she was eager. And it was obvious that he could tell.
"Give me your panties," he muttered as the elevator doors closed. Marcia felt her stomach sink.
"Here?" she asked, not quite comfortable with his request. There were cameras in elevators. She knew that much.
"Are you going to pretend you're above it?" His words stung, but Marcia couldn't blame him if he thought of her that way. She had been a bit too open, perhaps. He knew she was married, knew how much of a fan she was, knew every sordid detail of her sexual desires. Her conversations with him while organizing this tryst uncovered desires that she didn't know she had. It seemed like every suggestion he made struck to her core and built upon the foundation of her lust. She wanted him and didn't care how he took her. And he knew that.
She couldn't bring herself to admit that he was right, though. But she knew she had no choice but to comply. She leaned against the wall and tugged the hem of her dress upwards so she could shimmy the waistband of her panties until they slipped past her thighs and fell loose around her ankles. The heels she wore made retrieving them awkward and undignified - she certainly couldn't find a way to make the motion sexy - but when she passed the wadded-up fabric to him, he pocketed it with a pleased expression. "Good job," he said.
Good job. Marcia felt as though her heart was about to beat out of her ribcage. He made no more requests of her until the elevator stopped moving. Marcia felt herself slightly disappointed. She expected more passion but, as things stood, she was caught in a limbo of desire and anxiety. "You're much more reserved than I had imagined," she mentioned as the door opened.
Her companion looked at her as she spoke. She hadn't noticed before how tired his eyes seemed. "Is this you trying to take control of the situation?" he asked.
Marcia bit her lower lip and he laughed to himself. "Relax," he whispered as he reached his hand towards hers and took her by the wrist. "I know you've been looking forward to tonight. Don't get lost in your expectations, live in the moment."
She exhaled deeply as he pulled her close. His touch was sensual as he moved his fingers over her lower back and down to cup her firm backside. There was a ding and the doors began closing while Marcia closed her eyes and allowed him to kiss her. It was so...different from anything she had experienced before. His kiss was hungry but delicate. She parted her lips and let her tongue be exposed to him. She wanted him to want her, like he had wanted those other women. She wanted that firm, guiding hand down the abyss of her own sexuality. She wanted a night she would never forget. Something she could look back on and be proud of.
She wanted him to be her adventure.
Marcia had been in hotels like this before. It was a step above the usual accommodations she was used to while on business trips. She wished she could see what the inside of their room looked like but, as she stood now, she was blindfolded and led forward by nothing but gentle words of encouragement.
She trusted him. She had to. Maybe this was some sort of test. She followed his instruction and stepped forward comfortably as her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She walked with confidence but somewhere in the back of her mind the image of her tripping over her own heels and making a fool of herself loomed.
"Right there," he said finally, "turn towards my voice."
Marcia complied. She was ready, so ready, for him. She was already slick with desire. She wanted to be used, masked and presented as this man's next escapade. She wanted to leave her boring self behind and be fucked like a piece of meat for once. To be truly satisfied. She bit her lip. "I'm ready," she said, hoping to spur him into action.
"No, no, no." he muttered. "There you go again. Trying to take control of the situation."
Marcia shifted her weight from one leg to another as she felt a hand at her shoulder. She didn't know whether she should apologize or not but the hand moved to her neck before she could speak. She exhaled and flexed her fingers while the zipper at her back was undone and her dress fell to the floor, leaving her naked except for the brassiere she wore to make her breasts appear slightly larger than they were.
The bra was unhooked and pulled away from her, leaving her blind and now fully naked. It was exhilarating. She moved her hands over her taut stomach and down between her legs where her waxed sex waited, already aching for his attention.
Lips were upon her body now. They sucked on her neck as rough hands groped her breasts from behind. She gasped and leaned back into his chest. "Yes," she moaned, tilting her head back as a thumb and forefinger closed on the stiff peaks of her nipples. Her knees bent as she gyrated against his body. "Kiss me," she whispered, adding, "please..."
No sooner than she made her request, a pair of lips met her mouth - a pair entirely separate from the lips at her neck. She reached up to remove her blindfold, but her hand was stopped by a firm grip at her wrist while the person behind her held her by the other elbow.
"Stop trying to take control," his voice came again. It was disconnected, somewhere far away from where she was. "Relax and live in the moment. All the plans and expectations you had for tonight...let them go. Have fun for once."
Marcia whimpered and then, after a moment's hesitation, embraced the kiss of the other man. She moaned as another pair of hands joined in. There were three men upon her now, pawing at her body, fingers probing, lips kissing, teeth scraping at her skin. She had never felt herself so on fire. "How many?" she asked.
"For a woman like you? Never enough."
Marcia tried her best to keep track of the men around her but eventually the decided to follow the advice given to her and just went with it. Before Sam, she had been with three men. He only knew about two of them. It was a strange feeling not knowing who the cock in her mouth was attached to, but it was stranger still to know that the man whose cock she was sucking was not the man whose hand was in her hair. It had been months since she had performed oral sex on Sam but within minutes of being placed on the bed, she had already pleased at least four men using her mouth.
She was on all fours, shoes removed, and with a mask placed over her blindfold to hold it securely in place. She could hear the snap of photos being taken in between the moans and grunts of the men around her and, soon, she added her own whimpers of pleasure to the noisy din growing in the room.
She loved the feeling. The less-than-gentle way the men helped themselves to her body. She loved how over time she was able to give identity to each of the men just by how their cocks felt in her mouth or in her cunt. She learned how one like to thrust eagerly when she clenched on him and would try to do so when he took a turn at her backside. Another loved when she would attempt to deepthroat him and fail, gagging and coughing as he took hold of her head and shoved his cock into her mouth. She especially loved when she would hear the click of the camera. It was as though she could feel the flash of it against her skin. Knowing that her depravity was to be immortalized and displayed for anyone to see only made her appetite more voracious. When a cock would enter her mouth, she sought not only to please, but to satisfy. Finally, for the first time in her life, someone ejaculated in her mouth.
Marcia didn't know how to react and considered spitting it the salty, almost gelatinously-thick load of cum that coated her tongue. As though reacting to her intentions, a hand clamped over her mouth and her head was tilted back. "Swallow it, whore," someone grunted, "you ain't spilling a drop tonight." Marcia swallowed, almost gagging as the load slid down her throat and settled in her belly. Rough fingers invaded her mouth, inspecting under her tongue.
"I told you she's obedient," someone said. "Have fun, boys."
The soreness set in a lot quicker than Marcia expected. Her lust persisted though. She survived having two men inside her cunt at once; being made to straddle one man while her anal virginity was taken slowly, and then almost everyone present took a turn in her back door until it was swollen and tender; she swallowed and had cum splashed across her body and rubbed into her skin until the room was inundated with the pungent stench of sweat and sex; her ass was smacked until it burned; she was strangled, face fucked, and made to moan until her voice went hoarse; water breaks came in between sucking smelly cocks that were already smeared in her juices. And still she wanted more.
Slowly the men around her lost stamina. Their erections were soft and their ejaculate thin and watery. It took them a long time to cum and their thrusts were deep and rough. Sex was more painful than anything else for Marcia now, but she soldiered on, desperate to get everything out of the night.
Keeping track of time was almost impossible but she assumed hours might have passed. By the time the last man had his way with her, she splayed on her back with her legs spread, skin sticky with cum and sweat and whatever else had been splashed on her while the men took turns disrespecting her body. She knew that the majority of men had left and after this man was finished, he would too. This ordeal - her adventure - was over.
Marcia awoke to a sore body and an offensive stench about her. Moving ached and she instinctively looked to her side to find out what time it was.
"I thought you'd sleep for a lot longer than that," came a voice from across the room.
Marcia sat up quickly and immediately regretted it as pain shot up her spine. She winced visibly and settled herself before pulling the dirty and stained sheets about herself in an act of modesty. "What time is it?" she asked.
"It's just before sunrise," the man said. "Whatever time that is."
Marcia brushed her fingers through her hair and felt it clumped and sticky. It was disgusting but she wore it with pride. She looked across the room to the man who sat across from her. To the man who set this evening up and brought her out of her shell. He was fully dressed as he was the night before. She had hoped that one of the men that had indulged in her body was him and had actually put some effort into trying to guess which one he was. It was disappointing to come to realization that he had withheld himself from the orgy.
She bit her lip and ignored the pain as she dropped the sheets and crawled out of bed. She wanted him, they both knew it, and after what she had been through the night before, she had the confidence to act on it.
He looked at her curiously as she approached him and stood between his knees. "What are you doing?" he asked.
She blinked and looked at him. "Don't you want me?" she asked. She couldn't help but have a slight hint of disappointment in her voice. The previous night was something she would never forget but she had come for him, hadn't she? The adventure wouldn't be complete until she got what she came for.
"No?" Marcia asked. "What do you mean 'no'?"
"I mean 'No, I do not want to have sex with you'."
"I know what the words mean," Marcia spat. She struggled to find the words to express herself and finally came to the realization of what was happening. Her eyes narrowed. "How dare you..." she muttered.
"How dare I what?" the man asked. He wasn't looking at her now, preoccupied with fishing a cigarette out of a box he kept on the small table beside where he sat.
"Are you seriously looking down on me? Judging me?"
"And what if I am?"
Marcia's voice caught in her throat. "I did all this...everything for you. To make you happy!"
The man laughed. "If you want to believe that, feel free."
Marcia shook her head and stepped away, back towards the bed, and sat on it, wincing again as her bruised backside reminded her of her escapades the night before. "You're not better than me," she muttered, burying her face in her hands. "Don't you dare think you're better than me."
The man inhaled deeply then exhaled sharply. He lit his cigarette and looked at her while he puffed on it. "What do you want me to say?" he asked. "Do you want me to tell you some story about how I manipulated you into coming her and acting like a fiend? I could, if it would make you feel better about yourself. I'm not judging you for what you enjoyed doing - and you did enjoy doing what you did - but don't you dare say you did anything for me. You don't know anything about me. You disgust me."
His words stung Marcia. "You...," she said, starting a rebuttal before letting her shoulders sag. "This isn't fair."
"Life isn't fair. You either let it pass you by or live in the moment. But don't blame other people for what you choose to do." He spoke the words as though he had said them many times before. Marcia couldn't look at him as he stood up and left her sitting in her shame. "You know, of all the women I've ever been with, you're the first who went through with this. The others had the common sense to stand up for themselves and say no. I liked that about them."
Marcia shook her head in response, she didn't know what to say.
"Be proud of that if you want," he continued. "That's at least better than the truth, right?"
Marcia Bridges had never been the type of woman for adventures. She was brought up to be pragmatic. To be safe. To weight the options and make the right decisions. She always hated that. She felt that life passed her by and she was missing out on experiences that she needed to feel whole. To feel satisfied.
And she was right. There were a lot of experiences passing her by as she laid in bed with her husband. Nights full of pleasure and men who knew the right way to use her body for their pleasure. She thought about that experience still. Sometimes. Even months later, she would lay awake and listen to Sam snore while she trailed her fingers over her swollen belly.
She had told him what she did. She didn't know how to live having not told him. She felt like she needed to lay herself bare before him and was ready to be thrown aside again. To be disgusted with.
She turned her head to the side where Sam lay and moved herself closer to him. He was warm. She trailed her fingers over his arm and up his shoulder until she poked at his jawline. He awoke with a jump and blinked several times before looking at her. "Did I wake you?" he asked, sleepily, eyes struggling to focus on Marcia as he carefully turned towards her. He placed his hand on her belly and gently rubbed it, smiling as he felt the baby turn and kick as it usually did at this time of night.
"No," Marcia said softly, "I was just thinking of what an amazing man you are."