Chapter 12: San Francisco & Marilyn

Marilyn Perry lives contentedly in a "Haight" brownstone as the yuppies like call it, having managed to purchase it after a brief affair with one of the Microsoft wonder kids led her to buy cheap and sell high as it were.

The Haight is a wonderful place for the adventurous with its many boutiques, galleries and eating establishments and Marilyn is surely that. It's 8:15 in the morning and she is looking out the picture window down Asbury Street past the house where members of The Grateful Dead lived in the "60s. The shops lining the street are already doing a brisk business.

Hearing a light knock on her door, Marilyn swirled around gracefully and crossed the room to see who is calling on her this early in the day. As she approached the front door she glanced into the master bedroom at the two young girls still sleeping, but decides not to close the door on them.

Looking through the peep hole at the front door she spies her latest lover, Tucker. 'Tucker the fucker, ' she thinks with a smile and opens the door to let him in.

"Hi," he said with a boyish grin that she found irresistible. "Sorry about dropping by so early, but I was in the area and..."

"Come on in, I'm just about to make some coffee."

She padded back to the kitchen and put coffee on. As the machine wheezed and burbled through its last phases Tucker looked in on the young girls. One wore a light blue teddy and white panties. The other a lovely redheaded waif lay nude, the sheet kicked off during her last dream of the night. He admired their youthful suppleness and wondered if Marilyn would allow him to sample their varied charms.

Marilyn noted his appraisal of the girls; the brunette was Evie and the redhead Marcie. All she knew of Evie was that she had run away from home, but not why. Marcie had been quite blunt about it. "I took off after my bastard father did me. My mother didn't believe me when I told her and I left before he did me again," she'd said that memorable night Marilyn had encountered her cowering in her vestibule.

'He'll want to screw them both, ' she thought and flipped on the countertop TV, found the local weather update, reveled in the news that it was already fifty-eight degrees outside, that a front was on the way that would keep highs in the sixties, drop the temperature to a veritable bone-chilling thirty-five in the night to come. 'Maybe Tucker and I will enjoy the girls this evening, ' she told herself.

"Still watching the weather?" she heard and turned to Tucker as he was slipping off his leather jacket.

"Uh huh," she said automatically and glanced in the mirror and grimaced. Her face was still puffy from sleep. The kids still in bed would rise up looking like the cellophane wrappers had just been removed, but she... she ran a hand through her tousled hair and smiled for Tucker's benefit.

She was wearing an old extra large T-shirt and the bottoms of an old jogging suit she'd had... since Dutch and she were married.

"Only in the winter," she responded absentmindedly and turned the sound off, leaving the flickering image alive.

He nodded, not understanding what she'd meant. The truth was Marilyn had been born and raised on a farm in Centralia, Illinois and her father had listened almost as passionately to the weather as he had to the grain and livestock reports.

"Still," Tucker said lightly, "it is really nice out there today.

Marilyn yawned, remembering to cover her mouth. "Um, sorry," she said. Her voice was pleasant, but carried a husky timbre from too many martinis over the years. She stretched, arching her back, thrusting her breasts against the fabric of the T-shirt. Tucker noted the nipples rising almost as if being offered to him as a breakfast repast. Then Marilyn turned away from him to lean against the sink counter, chin on her hands, staring out into the lovely San Francisco morning.

"Lotta people out already," she stated matter of factly.

"Some people work for a living," he said softly, close to her ear.

She didn't respond but kept looking out the window.

He reached out and flicked a dangling ear ring with a finger.

"Sometimes you can be a pain in the ass," she said with a frown.

"Especially when I don't use enough lubricant," he laughed.

She rolled about, hip cocked on the counter, regarding him. "Yeah, that's for sure." And she smiled at him. Her eyes were screaming Yes, Yes, Yes, inviting his next move.

He got the message and leaned into her, bending to her upturned mouth. He heard her gasp involuntarily as their hips interlocked and he pressed his turgidness into her. Her mouth met his, her tongue probing, her breath harsh and driving his to a matching pace. He wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted, nor how long it took for him to get the drawstring to the jogging pants undone. It seemed to take only an instant, and on the other hand, it seemed to go on forever.

He had gotten his own sweatpants halfway down his legs when Marilyn raised one foot to the balky waistband and stamped down, jamming the pants into a wad about his ankles. He raised her onto the counter, noted vaguely that through the tile seemed almost frigid at the touch, she made no sound of complaint, gave only a groan of pleasure as he drove his massive prick into her.

She fell back, throwing her hands apart to brace herself, to meet his thrusts with lunges of her own. One of her hands sent the blender cup bouncing off the still glowing TV, the other knocking the still-open bag of coffee beans flying to the floor. Tucker got one foot out of his wadded sweats, kicked vaguely to clear beans for a place to stand, though he was moving rapidly to a place where he could have done what he was doing while dancing on nails.

Marilyn had slid down, her head pressing against the counter's backsplash, pressing first the switch for the overhead lamp, the other that started the disposal grinding.

The redheaded Marcie emerged from the bedroom, still nude rubbing the sleep from her eyes to see what the commotion was all about.

To Tucker, the grinding noise sounded like a symphonic orchestra that counterpointed the growing white frenzy in his head.

Marilyn had twisted onto her stomach now, her toes barely touching the floor. Tucker was behind her, his hands kneading her breasts, his feet crushing coffee beans against the tiles.

Marcie's mouth fell open on seeing her first glimpse of Tucker's monstrous prick surging in and out of Marilyn's pussy.

'It can't be that big!' she told herself and ran to wake Evie.

Vaguely, Tucker realized that the faucet had somehow gotten turned on in the sink, that the spigot was pushed too far sideways, that water was gushing freely onto the counter. Over the rasping sound of the disposal he could make out the faint grunting sounds coming from a heavily panting Marilyn.

Evie and Marcie emerged from the bedroom, holding hands too gawk at the copulating couple at the sink.

The jet of water seemed as loud as a rocket, the disposal an earth mover.

"The water," Marilyn gasped, her hands spayed flat, sliding about the slick countertop.

"Right," he said and drove his manhood to her core and bliss for both of them. Marilyn might have started to say something else, but whatever it was dissolved into wordless cries.

The two young girls approached the adults carefully, studying their every move, committing the scene to their respective memories.

Tucker was holding tightly above Marilyn's waist with one arm, fighting a sudden weakness in his knees that threatened to send him down. Finally, without leaving her, he lunged for the faucet lever, managed to turn the thing off.

"I like that move," Marilyn murmured. She had her head resting against one crooked arm, was smiling, though her eyes were closed.

"Can we try it again?" she said wriggling back against him.

"The water's off," Tucker said, still trying to catch his breath. He felt like he'd been back on the practice field, running gassers.

"We could fix that," she said moving faster against him.

"Maybe we could," he replied grinning down at her. He was actually reaching for the water faucet again when Evie sneezed.

Marilyn quickly called out, God Bless you, and good morning ladies. This is Tucker, better known as Tucker the fucker."

"Good morning," they said in unison. "I'm Marcie," the redhead said softly, with no apparent concern over her nudity.

"I... I'm Evie," the slim brunette added picking at an imaginary thread on her teddy.

Both were staring intently at Tucker's prick, marveling at its length and circumference, knowing full well it should be greatly diminished after having sex.

Marilyn had already seen the future and in her vision the four of them were cavorting upon her king-sized playpen of a bed in the next room, when the phone rang. With a slight frown she gracefully hopped off the wet countertop, grabbed a dishtowel and was wiping her dampened ass dry when she picked up the telephone receiver on the fourth ring.

"Hello," she said in a friendly tone and tossed the towel to Tucker who used it to dry himself off.

"Marilyn? Is that you?"

"Mary... yes it's me. How are you? It's been... gee, how long has it been?"

"Linda Varner's wedding," Mary snapped out quickly, reveling a tension that Marilyn had never encountered in her before.

"Yes, that's right. Wow... that was... "

"Eleven years ago," Mary finished for her.

Mary was an old and close friend. They had gone to college together and then over time, drifted apart. The strange thing was that Mary had not been sexually active during the sexual revolution and Marilyn had respected her for it while she herself had had casual sex wherever and whenever possible.

"That's right. Well, what can I do for you?" Marilyn turned to face Tucker intending to signal him that this would take a minute or so and saw the two girls holding his massive phallus, taking turns kissing and stoking it. And to her dismay, as she watched, Tucker was responding quickly, building a huge erection that the girls seemed overjoyed with.

"I need help... advice actually. Could we meet someplace convenient to you today?"

"What on earth is the problem, Mary dear?"

"Hmmm," her nervous friend began. "I thought I could rattle it right off, but I seem..." and she began to cry.

"Mary... Mary... are you all right?"

Sniffling, and then blowing her nose, Mary responded. "Yes... No... I don't know. That's why I need to see you."

"All right, sure... um, how about lunch at Adrian 's, it's on..."

"I know the place. It's on Court Street. The palm trees lead into the entrance."

"How does noon sound?"

Mary sniffled again. "Could we meet sooner?"

"They open at eleven." Marilyn said as her eyes widened watching Marcie's mouth expand far beyond what Marilyn would have thought possible as Marcie accepted the bulbous knob of Tucker's mammoth prick while Evie held one testicle in her left hand and absorbed about half of the other in her very eager mouth.

"I guess so, if it's really that urgent. Now what's going on?"

More sobbing, then Mary composes herself enough to say, "I've been in a relationship... my marriage, for the past eight years. Lately, I... I've found that my life isn't all that I thought it was supposed to be."

She sniffed and Marilyn took the opportunity to wave at Tucker and the girls. He waved back, but the girls were oblivious to her gesturing.

"Now I care for Harry... my husband, but... I realize that there are certain... desires going unfulfilled in my life, and..."

"So you want to discuss them with me?"

"Yes, you're so worldly Marilyn and I don't know where else to turn."

"Well we'll talk more about it at lunch; right now I'm kind of involved in something that requires my immediate attention."

"Oh, of course, I'm terribly sorry for calling like this, but..."

"Its okay, Mary, I'll see in a couple, bye now."

There was a puzzled tone to her voice as Mary also said "Goodbye."

Marilyn hung the phone up and touching her finger to her lower lip approached Tucker and the girls with a broad smile on her face.

"So who's going to be first?" She asked the girls.

Evie replied first. "Marcie should. She can get it in her mouth."

Marilyn noted his roving fingers had found Evie's hairless pussy, pushing her panties to one side and were almost idly delving into her as Marcie strove to gain more of his prodigious prick down her gullet.

"I think you're right, Evie. She certainly has a head start on you."

Tucker laughed at her pun, but neither girl got it.

"He's so big my lady," Evie said. "Is it the biggest ever?"

"He is big, Evie, but I guess there are some men out there who may actually be longer and thicker. But don't count on meeting any of them. Tucker here is a rare breed."

"So tell me Marilyn, who are these delightful nymphets?" Tucker asked removing his prick from Marcie's mouth with a fairly loud 'pop.'

"Hmmm, girls why not tell Tucker here your respective stories?"

Marcie deprived of his delectable prick sat down on the kitchen tile and crossed her legs. Evie stood beside him, doting on the magic his fingers were bringing to her little pussy.

"Not much to tell," Marcie began. "I just turned fifteen last month." She looked down at her hands which were folded in her lap. Her pert, young breasts were rising and falling; the only indication that Marcie was enduring a very stressful moment in the telling of her story.

"I won't tell you where I came from 'cause then you might try to send me back, but I will tell you my father drinks a lot and has a heroin habit. And he wanted me to hit the street and turn tricks for him. I didn't know it until he beat me and turned me out that my mom had been tricking for a while too. I almost did turn a trick that night, but the guy was so fat and disgusting that I threw up all over his suit and tie. He tried to punch me... well he did catch me on the shoulder as I was grabbing for the car door handle, but it opened and I was running down the street before he could do anything really bad to me. I was afraid to go home and slept in a doorway. Then later that night, or was it morning? I don't know for sure, these two Puerto Rican guys discovered me."

"They didn't hurt me, but they fucked me repeatedly. Since I didn't struggle... well I guess they appreciated my cooperation 'cause they left me with seven dollars."