Chapter 16

Marcie – Slut Running Amuck

Meanwhile, Marcie met with less success than Mark; having settled in at a Tampa lounge as the 9 to 2 weekly piano gig Tuesday through Saturday. Her previous work with the recording group had phased out and it was the only job available, and needing to eat, she took it.

But she was also undergoing a different transition as well. Her sexual appetite was growing. Marcie had always enjoyed sex with both men and women. She had experimented along the way, at one point taking on five men at a gathering of her choosing. But now she had this ‘need.’ It was becoming more difficult to shrug off. Her working hours left her only the wee hours of the morning to satisfy it, and that meant risking encounters with the most unsavory types---whether man or woman.

She craved sweat and filth and pain and risk. She needed to be used and used hard. She no longer looked to the future; in her eyes there was no future.

And so on a rainy Wednesday night or really early Thursday morning, about 2:30, Marcie was on the prowl, her eyes seemingly everywhere in tune with the car’s wipers as she drove through the Floridian rain, seeking, hunting the elusive satisfaction she craved.

As she entered the city limits of Sarasota, she slowed to 5 miles per hour under the limit and. reached under her dressy little jacket and pinched her nipple through the bra. She kept pinching and turned slowly to the car beside her. The driver never took his eyes off the road.

His loss, she told herself then added mine too.

With the road to herself again, Marcie sighed, released the nipple and took a handful of her breast and slowly squeezed until the pressure was almost too much, then twisted and squeezed some more.

It was a start she thought, and licked her lips as her breathing grew heavier. She let go of her breast, grabbed the lapel of her jacket along with a handful of blouse material and yanked hard.

Buttons flew. The bra was now open for anyone to see. Marcie was almost too excited to continue driving, but the need was there THEN and she took hold of her bra and yanked downward. The straps hurt her shoulders but her firm breasts spilled free. Marcie stuck her thumb and two fingers into her mouth—telling herself it was a juicy cock and slobbered over them, letting the excess saliva drip down to the slopes of her breasts. Slowing the car even more, she slid forward o the car seat in an attempt to put additional pressure on her pussy by getting her panties to ride up. It wasn’t enough, but for the moment it served to keep her arousal simmering as she pulled over to the side of the road.

With the car stopped she reclined the seat all the way back, kicked off her pumps and placed her stockinged feet on the dash. Marcie knew exactly what she would do next, she’d done it before and it had brought a semblance of relief, but not enough. It was never enough for the need.

She began by pinching both nipples as hard as she could stand, and then fingered herself, her mind set on reaching at least two hundred strokes. She did this without removing her panties or pantyhose, seemingly content to shove the material into her cunt as far as she could. As her toes curled along the dash, she jammed the fingers of her free hand into her mouth and alternatively deep-throated them or tweaked her nipples with the saliva coated fingers triggering memories of the previous pain from pinching.

On the fifty-fourth stroke she came, holding the fingers still for as long as it lasted and then resuming again. This time the material, now soaked with her juices allowed somewhat more penetration for her fingers and she plowed on, sixty---sixty-six...

Groaning with both effort and satisfaction, Marcie kicked her legs up until both feet were pressed against the roof of the car.

Liquid began to pool on the leather seat beneath her. She felt it squishing in the small of her back. Her slick panties and hose rubbed uncomfortably along her overly sensitive labia.

As she approached the hundredth stroke Marcie had a wicked thought and reached under her pantyhose hose to grab the front of her thong panties she wore. She could feel the liquid squeeze out as she pulled up until they gave way with a snap. The straps dug into her hips but she didn’t care. She brought the panties up to her mouth and stuffed them in. They tasted like sex. She wanted more so she turned around and put her face directly on the seat with her belly button on the headrest and knees on the back seat, baring her ass to the world.

Marcie wanted to keep the pantyhose on for now and pulled them back up, then reached between her legs and started fingering.

Marcie’s face was inhaling the musk from the seat—a combination of cum and sweat. She stuck her tongue out around the thong and licked the leather. Now the headlights of the occasional passing cars illuminated her ass as her fingers pumped the pantyhose into her cunt.

Would someone see her and stop? If so, what would they do? What would she do? Marcie giggled lewdly at that. She knew what she wanted to do.

Four more cars passed by while she masturbated. Then she stopped, having reached her numeric objective. She slipped her pumps back on, and feeling alive again, put the car in gear and got back on the road again. Her breasts were still mostly exposed, her blouse had lost most of its buttons, and the jacket had only one button left, but she thought no one would notice from any reasonable distance. Although on second thought she saw that anyone close up would see the breasts now highlighted by the bra that sat useless, pulled down across the top of her abdomen. She kept the panties in her mouth, leaving a one of the strings dangling down her chin.

That was when the cop pulled alongside her car and motioned for her to pull over.

“Yes, Officer?” she said not bothering to cover her breasts and with the torn panties now clinging to her shoulder.

He was a young officer, perhaps 25 or 26 years old, and although having two years on the force, not experienced with anyone like Marcie who was still on fire between her legs.

“Um, are you all right Ma’am?” He inquired after seeing the condition of her dress. “You have a fight with the boyfriend, or something?”

Marcie thought about telling him the truth and imagined herself saying, “Oh, no officer. I was just frigging myself like crazy and chewing the shit out of my panties when you happened along. Why don’t you take that big ole prick out and let me suck it?”

What she actually said was, “No officer no boyfriend problems, but...”

“But... ?” The officer, now confused said.

“I’m just really horny, and ... um, was I breaking any laws?”

“Err, no I don’t think so. I just noticed your disheveled condition and thought...”

“Thought I’d been raped?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Having said that, the police office took a moment to stare at her breasts, noting how hard her nipples were, and for the first time wondered ... he’d heard stories like this in the locker room. Could she be looking for sex with a uniform?”

“License and registration, Ma’am, please,” he said trying to keep his voice casual.

Marcie made no overt move at all.

“Ma’am, I asked to see your license and registration. I won’t ask you again.

“Oh, sure, officer, can I reach for my purse?”

“Yes you can, but slowly please.”

She picked up her purse and with her breasts shifting accordingly, she turned toward the officer and handed him the requested documentation. But her breasts were fully exposed to his view as well.

He couldn’t help but look at them.

“Do you have a nice one, officer?”

“Hmmm ... what did you say, Ma’am?”

“There’s no one around. I said I’d like to suck that bulge in your pants.”

“I don’t ... WHAT?”

“You may have noticed that I’m not wearing any panties. I told you when you first pulled me over that I was horny and I’m getting wetter just thinking sucking that cock of yours.”

“Um, ma’am you’ve just committed a felony in that I’m an officer of the law and you---you just tried to bribe me by offering sexual favors in return for...”

“I haven’t asked for any favors other than a chance to suck your dick, cowboy. Now why don’t you shut your flashing lights off and climb in here with me?”

“Ma’am, you don’t seem to under...”

“Or hey, I could get in your car and do you. I give great head. Or maybe you prefer a good fucking. I’m up for that as well. What do you say? You pick, which way shall we go?”

Her arm was already sticking out of the driver’s window and her hand lightly brushed over his erection.

“Ma’am!”

“Pulease ... let ... me ... suck ... it!”

The officer couldn’t believe his situation. He wanted to fuck her, but the rules specifically stated he couldn’t. The other guys were always talking about cop groupies that frequented the bars the police tended to hang out in, but he wasn’t a drinker and didn’t know for sure if they were bullshitting him or not. Yet here he was, and there she was.

“Get out of the car!” he said sternly.

“Ohhh, gonna bend me over the hood and hit me from behind?”

Marcie got out of the car and stood before him, breasts bared, feet apart, waiting.

“Get in the Squad car, please. We need to talk.”

“Okay, but I can’t talk with my mouth full, but afterward ... well sure, baby!” She chirped delightedly.

Marcie clambered into the back of the police car and waited for him to join her. She was literally dripping between her loins and it was all she could do to keep her hands off of her pussy, the itch was that powerful.

The officer returned to his car and called dispatch to inform them that he had let the transgressor off with a warning. There being no other calls for him at the moment, he would resume his patrolling. He signed off and turned to face the woman behind him and found her removing her pantyhose.

“FUCK,” he swore, and then to Marcie he said, “There’s a parking lot a block away. I’m taking you there. You can walk back to the car after we’re done.”

“Whatever,” Marcie answered, and threw her left leg up on his headrest, giving him a view of her shimmering wet cunt.

He knew this area had no camera coverage, parked in the darkest area and got out, opened the rear door and told Marcie to get out as well.

“Sure, Daddy, anything you say,” she cooed, only to wince as he pulled her wrists behind her then slapped a pair of handcuffs on her.

Her body came even more alive with a rush. He’s into bondage ... am I in serious trouble?

He steered her to the front of the police car and shoved her rear-end onto the grill while she awkwardly strove to maintain her balance.

“Okay, you wanted to fuck---let’s see how you like my style of fucking. Let’s see how you suck cock first.” He used one hand to steady her and the other to open his fly and extract his erection. Marcie glanced downward and sniggered derisively, knowing it would infuriate him further.

But the officer was confident in both his manliness and his manhood and contented himself with slapping her sharply across the face with a free hand while jerking her head back after the blow to raise the pain threshold of his punishment.

She hadn’t expected him to do it and cried out in pain and surprise.

“Don’t fuck with me, bitch. Suck my dick and watch those teeth. I don’t like scrapers.”

Marcie immediately began fellating him with an enthusiasm he hadn’t expected even though her body was awkwardly balanced with her barely covered ass on the grill of the squad car and her face buried in the officer’s crotch.

He realized she had a certain talent for cocksucking and began thrusting into her mouth at a faster pace. Marcie quickly adjusted and then one upped him by going even faster herself; slamming down onto his member harder than he wanted her too and in addition occasionally scraping his cock with her teeth.

He yanked her hair, and then slapped her face again, snarling, “Watch those teeth, bitch!”

Trying to punish her further, he jammed his cock even deeper into her throat. But Marcie was ready for him and already accomplished at deep-throating. Once he realized it, he pulled out and spun her around, but her hands were cuffed behind her and that bothered him. So he took a moment to free her hands from their binding and she willingly leaned over the hood of the police car, spreading her legs as far as possible under the circumstances.

“I gotta admit, your enthusiasm’s first rate, and you can suck a cock too. Let’s see how you fuck.”

“No,” Marcie spat back at him, “let’s see how well you fuck, officer!’

He took the female form in front of him in. Her bared breasts were now pressed against the car’s hood. Her dress was hiked up over her ass and he proceeded to rip the pantyhose from waist to crotch with one ferocious pull of his arm.

“You look like a fucked up whore on a Saturday night lockup,” he half laughed, half snarled.

“Just what I was trying for, thanks for noticing, officer,” Marcie rebutted scornfully.

He was both pissed off and confused by her words and actions. Her musky sensuous fragrance hit his nostrils about then and decided matter for him. He would fuck her and take her back to her car and be rid of her. She wasn’t worth his time or trouble to badger any further than that.

There was no doubt in his mind but that she wanted him to fuck her hard, and so he did, jamming his bulbous cockhead into her inflamed cunt he was off and running and Marcie responded in kind. Neither said a word, although the night air was filled with their comingled grunts and groans and sighs.

Then with two final furious thrusts he pulled out and holding his cock in hand began expelling a river of hot steaming cum all over her exposed backside. He looked on gleefully as his ropes of cum pooled between her ass cheeks only to flow down the cleft to dribble down the inside of her thighs and calves to the tops of her strapped heels.

Satisfied that she did as promised and having only twenty-three minutes left on his shift, the officer helped her off the hood of the car, checked it for any apparent cum stains then stepped back and thanked her for being a good citizen.

“How was I a good citizen, officer?”

“You readily complied with my requests, Ma’am.”

“You’ve, um, torn my hose to shit; and look, my panties too. How am I supposed to go home like this?”

“What the fuck do I care. Get in the car and I’ll return you to your vehicle, Ma’am.”

“Yeah ... if it’s still there!”

Then without another word, she got into the police car and he drove her back to her car, which was exactly as she’d left it.

As he drove away he glanced in her direction. She was looking at her face in the rear-view mirror and trying to fix her disheveled hair.

He had no idea what she was thinking just then, but had he asked she would have told him that he’d scratched her itch enough to satisfy her---for a while anyway.

She parked in a CVS parking lot fixed her hair a second time and removed her pantyhose and walked bare-legged into the pharmacy and bought two pair of pantyhose and another lipstick because she couldn’t find the one she’d started out with.

Four blocks away she saw two men standing and smoking by an alleyway. Now that’s kinky, she told herself then found a space and parked the car before waling over to the mouth of the alley and leaned against the wall on the opposite side from the two men.

Of course they stared at her.

“So who’s first?” she said making her voice husky with lust.

The one with a thick head of hair sauntered over and said, “What did you say?”

“My exact words were: ‘So who’s first?’”

“You a cop?”

“She’s no cop,” said the other man; he had a receding hairline self-consciously wore a baseball cap to help cover his lack of hair. “First off, she’s asking us, we ain’t asked her a fucking thing!”

“Yeah,” said the other man, still sounding dubious.

“And second, her tit’s is hanging out. What cop’s gonna do that, huh?” That said he moved to Marcie and said, “You don’t mind, I’ll be first,” then like a gentleman, he extended his arm to her. Marcie took it and with a mirthless laughed walked into the darkened alley with him.

He backed her up against the wall while his partner watched for anyone coming by.

To Marcie’s surprise he wanted to kiss her and she obliged him, grimacing at the after taste he left in her mouth, but not complaining one bit for his prick was thick and hit the right places as he plowed into her at a decent pace. Unfortunately he came and she didn’t. But she quickly beckoned the other man over and while the one with the baseball cap tucked himself away then took over as lookout.

The first thing the second man did was grab her by the throat.

Oh, Christ, he’s going to kill me! Ran through her mind.

“Open that mouth I wanna spit in it!” He whispered.

She complied and he spat a gob of phlegm into her mouth then demanded she show it to him.

Marcie opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out and he stunned her by licking his spittle from her tongue.

Then he applied pressure to her throat, cutting off her breath. He held the hand firmly in place until she coughed and her knees began to sag, and then he let go, took his cock out and had her turn and face the wall. When she did he kicked her feet apart, flipped up her skirt and entered her from behind.

He too finished without Marcie reaching her much needed orgasm, but the other was ready for seconds and took her in the same position the hatless guy had left her. She came this time mainly because it took him so much longer to get off. Then to her delight the hatless one fucked her to two more orgasms, lasting a long, long time before finishing in her mouth with Marcie on her knees, ruining the new pantyhose she’d just purchased before meeting them.

Determining they were done for the night, she kissed them both and thanked them for a good time, got back in her car and drove home.

One week later on a rainy Saturday afternoon Marcie was lost in blissful ecstasy with a new friend.

“Don’t stop Andre! Mmmmm, please---please don’t stop!”

Andre held her hips as he pummeled her with his prick, hitting all the right spots and bringing her to a riotous orgasm that left her quaking in the darkened corner alcove on the third floor of the city’s art museum. He pulled out before ejaculating and emptied his sacs onto her backside and upper thighs.

“Jesus, that was---that was other worldly, baby!” Marcie gushed, reaching back and scooping up a strand of gooey cum on her fingers then bringing them to her mouth to taste it.

.

“Mmmm, you are a girl’s delight, Andre. Are you really a Frenchman like Noreen Settlesworth said?”

Laughing in response to her question, he replied, “Actually I’m french-Canadian. My parents are from Montreal.”

“You’re more than enough Frenchman for me, baby,” Marcie laughed and dropping to her knees, took him into her mouth and cleaned his penis off.

“I didn’t expect to have sex in a public place, Marcie.”

“Believe me; I hadn’t planned on it either. It was ... sort of spontaneous. We happened on this secluded spot and it seemed right. I think you were as horny as I was ... soooo.”

“Um, want to go again, André?” She asked reliving the thrill from the risk of being caught had certainly heightened the intensity of her climax.

“Well...” He said tentatively. Only to be shushed by Marcie’s whispered, “someone’s coming!’

The sound of footsteps on the other side of the wall revealed they were no longer the only ones in the large room.

Andre quickly pushed his still formidable erection into his pants while Marcie pulled the bottom of her skirt down. It was impossible to keep some of the mixed juices from escaping down the inside of her tanned legs. They tried to look nonchalant as they walked back around the seclusion of the wall, across the art-covered floor and toward the elevator. Another couple passed them, perusing the art, and seemed puzzled at the couple just emerging from the secluded corner had been looking at.

It was the woman who appeared to smell the sexual odor in the air, but just offered a soft, somewhat wistful “Ohhh,” and forced herself not to look at them as they passed by.

“I never expected that,” André said as they left the building.

“You got me so hot I couldn’t stand another second without you inside me!” Marcie told him, and it was the truth.

“Now you’ve got me hot,” he said cupping her ass with one large hand.

“Mmmm, I know the solution to that problem, buddy-boy!” she grinned lewdly.

“Oh really?”

She laughed again, and said, “It’s not exactly what you’re thinking, but probably better.”

“Better? How?”

“My roomie, Ingrid’s having a little party tonight,” she said as they got into his Camaro. Ingrid was a slender Asian-American with a too die for ass, and the legs of a model although she was too short to qualify as one.

“Sooo?”

“Would you like to be the main attraction?”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha, André laughed as he heard Marcie’s plan for him. ____________________________

Ingrid was actually of Viet-Vietnamese and French descent and not yet a citizen although she was following the necessary procedures to become one. She was 25, a raven haired beauty with a petite body of a gymnast, which she had been through her college years.

The party was intended to help her sell some of her exquisite lotions, oils and related products to the invited guests, all of whom were supposed to be women. Marcie was going to change that and whether it would prove a benefit or make the party a disaster only time would tell.

Things went awry from the beginning. Two of the invited women called and apologized, saying they were unable to make it. A third didn’t bother calling, and later claimed to have forgotten the party was that night. That left one prospective buyer, as Marcie was Ingrid’s roomie and would have bought her product anyway. But as Marcie brightly proclaimed as the doorbell rang after the second cancelation, “That’s show business, the show must go on.”

Ingrid always filled her events with incentives, games and fun sales gimmicks. She also made sure there was plenty of wine flowing as well. Perhaps her most persuasive sales technique was to get the wine filled women to share intimate stories about themselves once she added a little oil to their skin. The more illicit the stories got, the more inspired women became to buy her products. If the stories were too tame, Ingrid was good at enticing women to share their fantasies. All it took was one of her stories to open the floodgates of lust. They were, after all, ‘girl parties.’

Marcie had helped Ingrid set the stage for the party and then went off to her bedroom to change. “Show that skin,” Ingrid called after her, as she wanted the women to wear clothing that permitted easy access to different parts of their bodies for the lotions and oils she would be selling.

For her part, Ingrid wore a short, shimmery powder blue crop top and equally short black skirt with black high heels. There was no evidence of a bra. Marcie had justifiably wondered if Ingrid had gone commando as well.

“How much skin?” Marcie shouted playfully as undressed in the bedroom.

“With a body like yours, the more the better,” Ingrid fired back.

The doorbell rang as Marcie stepped into the living room. She had decided on a short, very tight, red spaghetti strap dress she had bought just for Valentine’s Day. Like Ingrid, her red shoes matched her outfit and a pearl necklace accessorized the dress.

“Oh, Marcie, you look great,” Ingrid said as she opened the door to welcome Clarissa. Clarissa stepped in looking equally ravishing.

“Good thing we’re meeting here,” Ingrid said. “If we were going out, you two would cause traffic accidents.”

Clarissa was the youngest of the three at 23 years old. She was taller than Ingrid at 5’7” and an inch shorter than Marcie. She was a stunning blonde (it was really her color) with green eyes and a generous 38-D chest complementing her tiny, but ultra firm ass. She had followed Ingrid’s dress instructions wearing little more than a green bikini top posing as a blouse with a matching short skirt and heels. She loved oils and lotions on her skin, and was eager to see what Ingrid had to offer.

Clarissa blushed. “Well thank you,” she said. “You’d stop traffic yourself.”

“Please come in,” Marcie said, and with a wave of her hand more or less indicated where Claressa was to sit.

“I have to apologize to you two,” Ingrid said, two of the other girls called at the last minute canceling, but we have one more, Ellen Donnelly, who might still make it. Do either of you know her?”

Neither did, and Ingrid got things going, by waiting until Marcie sat down and then pouring everyone a glass of white wine, and then she began introducing her lotions and oils to the two women sitting before her.

After an hour had passed, the three had finished off four bottles of wine and were really feeling good. The exotic smells of the oils and lotions had loosened their tongues, Ingrid’s included, and as she’d hoped the talk soon turned to sex, in particular certain illicit adventures they’d had and some complaints about their men.

Marcie couldn’t help bragging about Andre’s stamina and unquenchable ability to make love all night long.
“Are you kidding me?” Clarissa laughed. “My Carmine is one and done. I call him my Big Spender. He’s big and satisfying, but as soon as he shoots his load, he’s spent. If I don’t get off first, I don’t cum---at least with him. He’s limp in seconds and asleep in minutes.”

“I once wound up in a foursome where I was the only woman,” Clarissa confessed with a slight blush. “I loved it ‘cause when one was done, there was another one ready.”

“Holy fuck!” Ingrid sighed and ground her pussy into the pillow she was holding firmly in her lap, thinking the others wouldn’t see, or care.

“Sounds like my André,” Marcie bragged more than she would without the wine. “He’s a one-man foursome. I’ve never met a man who knows how to please a woman all night like him.

“You keep bragging on him. I mean, all night, Marcie? No man can go all night,” Claressa said, pressing the pillow tighter.

“Yeah,” Ingrid argued, I have to say that’s remark---um, remar--kable—um, remarkable stamina, you know? Gee, I had trouble pro ... um, saying it.”

Marcie laughed at that but went on to add, “One night I wanted to see how many times I could make him cum before he could give no more. I wanted to see how much I could drain from him.”

“How many times?” Ingrid asked quickly, revealing an intense interest in André’s stamina and unquenchable ability to make love all night long.

“Yeah, how much? Um, say Ingrid, got any more wine?” Clarissa asked.

“We never completely found out,” Marcie confessed. “André gave time after time, almost drowning me with gobs and gobs of it. Even more impressive to me was I was cumming with what seemed like back to back orgasms. I fell asleep exhausted at 5:00 in the morning and we both had to get up for work at 7:00. I woke up with him in my mouth as he served me a fabulous cum breakfast in bed. (This was an outright lie, but neither woman would ever think so.)

Clarissa sighed, “He sounds like a dream.”

“A wet dream,” Carla laughed.

The reader may recall that Marcie and André had formed a plan earlier. It was simple enough. She gave him a key to the apartment and told him to let himself in after an hour or so had passed.

The women were laughing as he walked in the front door.

“Oh, speak of the devil, here he is! Hi André, baby!”

André stood in front of the women wearing a skin-tight white tank top and short black Adidas shorts. The tank clung to his muscular chest and abs, and the shorts strained to contain his manly package. “I’m sorry ... Am I interrupting a party?” He said, trying to look innocent.

“No—no---no!” Marcie laughed. “Um, this is Ingrid; she’s having a little girlie party. And ... and this is Clarissa, she’s...”

“Horny as fuck!” Claressa shouted before bursting into a fit of uncontrolled laughter.

Trying to control herself, “No—no---no!” Marcie laughed. “Um, this is Ingrid; she’s having a little girlie party for us. And---and this ... wicked little girl is Claressa!”

“Hi Handsome!” Claressa chirped and then covering her face with both hands, burst into giggles.

André looked to Marcie, who said, “I was just bragging about you.”

“Your stamina in the bedroom,” Ingrid blurted. “Is it true?”