Marci Does Her Bit

MARCIE DOES HER BIT

I had this story from my maternal grandmother, Marcie, who was a student in the mid-sixties in South Africa.

'I'm telling you this, Jacky, because you need a proper compass in life. I did the same for your mother and it has served her well.' She grinned a little wickedly and added, 'The bottom line is to avoid the straight and narrow, and wander down the alleys in byways of life to pick up experience. I've seen so many of my friends who now regret that they did not use their opportunities even when they were offered on a plate. What I am advocating is, you make the opportunities and then grab them with both hands.'

Marcie had grown up in small town in the Western Cape of South Africa, hence she knew all about 'upright and uptight' Christians. She was grateful that her own family was well-to-do and liberal to boot, hence she knew all about the birds and the bees long before she could get stung. When she planned to go to varsity, there was a little family conference at which it was decided that she would reside in private digs, because she would not fit into the rigid religious regime which then prevailed in the varsity hostels. For her first year she was given a scooter to scoot around to class, or wherever her fancy would take her; she would have preferred a little car, but the varsity had a strict rule against first-year students with four-wheel transport. She was slated to lodge with a young family (mom, dad and twin girls aged three) trying to make ends meet by taking in a student, but then daddy was found astride the kitchen maid and got locked up for that little pleasure. Mommy then sued for divorce, the house went on the market and the new owner did not want to accommodate any students.

There was a frantic scrabble to find an alternative, but virtually three days before registration she finally found a place with the Pannevis family. Well, not really a family, because it was just him and her and no patter of little feet in the offing. It was only after she had settled in that Marcie realised that she had landed up in a home where they seriously believed that sex was the original sin. They could have joined the Apostle Paul (he with the crick in his prick) Girolamo Savonarola and John Calvin, all three with a bee in the bonnet, in their campaign to stamp out sex and the human race, and no questions asked. The only way for the Pannevisse was an immaculate conception in order to raise a sinless child, a new 'sweet Jesus' who would astonish all the learned men of this world with his fantastic insight, and the ability to work miracles.

Arrie (short for Arnoldus) regularly sought medical advice because he chronically suffered from what schoolboys would call 'blue balls', i.e. lack of sexual relief, either by hand or with the aid of loving lips (upper or lower). Touching himself 'down there', except when he had to handle his tool to piss, was regarded as masturbation - also called onanism after the biblical character who did not want to raise a son for his brother in the latter's widow - which abstention was (strangely enough) severely frowned on by God and the ecclesiastical authorities of that age. (By contrast, men who have tried to impregnate their brother's wives in the modern age, have been severely frowned upon by modern ecclesiastical bodies.) However, occasionally Arrie had involuntary emissions at night, usually with a pillow between his legs. This kept wife Patricia constantly fighting with the housemaid for using starch on the sheets and pillow cases, which was as constantly denied.

The family doctor was an old hand who knew a paying customer when he met him or her. His regular prescription was a purgative which caused Arrie to shit himself just as regularly and served to take his mind off his blue balls and rampant erection. But, fortunately for Arie, one day he had to consult the other partner in the medical practice, who he had a better solution. He prescribed a simple body lotion which had to be rubbed onto the penis when it was 'hard'.

'It is best to rub this in quite vigorously by first coating the organ properly with the ointment, taking a firm grip on the organ - your hand should be clasped around the erect member, you understand - and then move your hand quite vigorously up and down. Don't be concerned if you then have an emission of sperm. That is only to be expected of a man with your virility.'

The last bit was obviously a bit of soft-soaping. This way Arrie was given official sanction to spank his monkey, and as this was 'medical advice', it overrode anything that could be preached from a pulpit or gleaned from the pages of an outdated book. Even God would have to be satisfied with it, and Arrie specified that the doctor's prescription for the cream should be buried with him, so that he would have proof when he gets to the pearly gates...

Meanwhile Marcie had picked up 'experience'. She had been 'necked' and 'petted' when the opportunity had offered while she was still at school. That had proved to be great fun! She loved the pulsing prick in her hand and the escalating ecstasy in her loins. She learnt to read the signs of imminent ejaculation and knew to speed up the frigging at that crucial moment.

Patricia belonged to a church ladies' circle which met every Saturday morning to gossip; the official reason was that they were doing Bible study and 'praying for the nation'. She toddled off to her meeting at half past nine, leaving her husband sitting on the toilet in the bathroom, paging through a woman's magazine prior to his weekly cream treatment. The bit of cleavage shown now and again by the models was usually enough to cause an erection, whereafter he could 'get to work' to get it flaccid again.

It was February, the time of the year when the Cape buffets its inhabitants with a cloudless sky and a blistering hot southeaster. Marcie had crawled into bed at half past one that Saturday morning after a pretty wild night at a barn dance organised by the local pony club. She woke up after Patricia had left for her meeting and wandered towards the kitchen, clad in her shorty pyjamas, in search of a cup of coffee, ham and eggs.

As she passed the door of the bathroom, she caught the rapid up-and-down motion of Arrie's hand, and came to a halt. Arrie was already in extremis, red in face, pulling fiercely, to be followed four minutes later by the tremendous relief when the spunk spurted in a big arc and landed on the floor. The sight of that rigid joy-stick and the smell of spunk excited her; it was the automatic movement of her hand to her mons which Arrie caught out of the corner of his eye. He had been so engrossed in the 'treatment' that he had not noticed her before; now he came to very abruptly. The problem was, his pants and briefs were around his ankles and there was no way he could 'cover his shame' in time; anyway, he would first need toilet paper to clean himself up. At the same time he was staring at Marcie in her almost-transparent nightie, and his joystick jumped to attention again! 'Oh, Jesus, save me!' he prayed quietly, draped the toilet paper over his prick and gathered his wits. 'It's a medical treatment, dear. I do it once a week, on Saturdays.'

Marcie smiled and asked, 'What does the treatment entail?'

Arrie happily explained and Marcie said, 'I see. I am really an expert with that,' she added with a lascivious smirk. 'I won't mind helping you, Uncle Arrie, like a nurse, you know.'

His eyes were flitting between her perky tits and the dark bush in her loins and he found himself drooling. Marcie read the signs aright, stepped forward and took hold of his organ, and it started to play a carillon of its own. She viewed the purple-headed monster from different angles, and it looked to her like an all-day sucker, so she kissed the head. She had also done that before in various alleys. Arrie sighed the sigh of the contented. She found it fun to excite him by running her tongue around the hood and then up and down the shaft. Arrie's blood pressure was rising rapidly and there was no stemming his tide: he exploded in her face.

'Naughty! Naughty!' she smiled. 'You're much too quick on the trigger! Let's try again!'

She used the toilet paper to wipe her face and his prick, then decided to treat him some more by removing the top of her nighties to expose her cuddly cones. Arrie swallowed three times in rapid succession. They were beautiful tits, and right here, almost above him! Dare he touch? He dared, and she did not slap him. In fact, she bent over him so he could kiss the nipples. The main mast of his ship of life was rigid and when she then gripped it, he went sailing into heaven. It was an educated hand which tossed him off. Meanwhile, Marcie had her other hand in her crotch working on her own orgasm.

It was the first time ever that Arrie had seen a woman climax and he wondered if there was perhaps something wrong with Marcie! Patricia had never even been close to those shrieks and convulsions! Maybe it was demon possession, of which there was so much talk in the Bible? But when Marcie pulled down her panties to wipe herself clean, he discovered the demon in himself! Like the fabulous phoenix, his cock had risen from its ashes and was shaking its head like a galloping horse. Marcie put it to rest again with a splendid, slow blowjob while he had his hand stroking her bum.

Marcie, who was already on birth control, gave the ritual some serious thought during the next week and the following Saturday she went to him in the bedroom clad only in a bra and panties. Arrie was already stark naked, and drooling, because the previous afternoon Marcie had indicated what she had in mind. She allowed him to remove her two garments, then took charge. She had done soixante-neuf a couple of time with her lovers, and today she was going to give Arrie the treat of his life. She had to coach him a bit, but once they were in position, his tongue found its way into her carnal crevice, while she enveloped his cock and slowly but surely brought him to a climax. She ended by rubbing her clit against his nose and spraying him with her love juice.

Arrie would have been satisfied with that, but Marcie was only halfway with her programme. The toilet paper was applied, the cock resuscitated by guiding his hand to her crotch, then Marcie squatted over him; she guided his cock to the entrance of her pussy, then lowered herself to feel it cleave its way deeper into her. They were both transported into heaven then, with Marcie doing most of the work. Her orgasm came first and was the spark that caused Arrie to ejaculate. She stayed on top of him until their breathing was normal, then she quietly left, carrying her bra and panties to her room, and took a shower.

Lunchtime Patricia found her husband as chaffed as the cat which had stolen the cream, but she could not think of anything that could have caused it. On Sunday, after the morning service and lunch, they betook themselves to the bedroom, but instead of lying down with the Sunday papers, Arrie was tugging at her clothes and fondling her breasts and buttocks. She was shocked into her foundation garments, but... but there was something exiting in it! His hands were up her dress now, bullying her butt, while his head was between her breasts. Oh my god, he had hold of her knickers now and was pulling them down! In broad daylight! What next? What would the neighbours think? What about Marcie? In awe she watched him undo his pants and dropping them on the floor. Glory be to god, 'it' was hard, and it was pressing against her knees, forcing them apart, going higher, coming closer to the sacred spot, paused a moment, then thrust forward, rather violently; then he started pumping, furiously. It excited her, and, if she was horrified at first, the horror gradually turned into pleasure and by the time Arrie ejaculated, she had found bliss herself.

She was in a post-orgasmic coma when Arrie moved her body so that her legs were dangling over the side. He pushed her thighs apart and started licking her pussy. Oh, Marcie had taught him well! His tongue first toyed with the smaller labia, then probed the pussy and touched the clit. A delicious demon was awakened in Patricia's loins. Oh, god, it was wonderful! She was reminded of the forked tongue of a snake darting in and out while the excitement escalated. Involuntarily she started yelling as her orgasm approached, then clamped Arrie's head between her thighs when the climax came. When she finally released him, he gripped his cock and tossed off, spraying his cum over her pussy and belly.

'Oh, my god, Arrie, what's happened?' she asked in amazement.

'Sex, woman! That's what happened! I fucked you and then I ate you and I masturbated.'

'Oh, Arrie, what will the dominee say?'

'Do you want to invite him for a free lesson?'

'Oh, Arrie, I don't know what to make of you anymore!'

'Suzy, we've been wasting ourselves in pious piffle. From now on we're going to fuck every day and you have to be prepared for it, otherwise I'll find another cunt for my cock!'

Patricia was crimson. 'Such language!' But it was a feeble protest. After years of abstaining, she had suddenly begun to realise the potential for great joy in her own body - and Arrie's cock now stirred up lustful thoughts in her... In point of fact, Patricia had resuscitated all her amorous teenage dreams.

Monday evening she came out of the bath wrapped in a towel only, when Arrie stormed in, propelled her to bed and screwed her. In her mind, he was instantly transformed into a dashing cavalier, his sword pointed at her mid-section, and she was the captive slave girl who had to succumb to the master's whim for a wham. This was the stuff dreams are made of! She screamed, nor for help, but for more!

On Wednesday she was the beautiful princess, Snow White, held captive in the castle tower by an evil queen, when her knight in shining armour - it looked very much like naked flesh - stormed the fortress and took her by force, after killing the evil queen with his bare hands, as his sword was to be employed for a nobler purpose.

On Friday she was a fugitive from justice on a pirate ship and the captain required payment, at the point of his sword; she paid the price for her release... and became his willing captive forever after. In one single week all her previous pious protestant protestations were pulverised; her pussy, rather than her conscience, would be pricked in future!

On Saturday there was no need for Marcie to minister to Arrie, because he was getting 'serviced' very regularly now, so much so that he could dispense with the doctor's cream treatment. At times Patricia wanted to be tied to the bedpost - as substitute for a tree in the forest - and 'taken by force'; at other times she would sit on a high stool in the den and play the role of a bar prostitute. Then there was the randy school master and the naughty girl who did not wear her knickers to class, so she had to stay after school and take six of the best, spread over the next few days. Their sex life had suddenly become alive!

Sunday afternoon she was ravished again and then asked, 'What happened, Arrie? I feel like I've been reborn!'

'Marcie happened, Patty!'

'What do you mean?'

Arrie told all, and Patricia smiled. 'So,' she thought, 'the little filly had screwed my husband? Thank god for such a ministering angel who has opened a new world to us! Perhaps that is what Mary Magdalene did to Jesus too!'

'We had good times after that, Jacky,' my granny concluded. 'My boyfriends were allowed into my room and occasionally we would have a little orgy, with Patty getting screwed by my current boyfriend and Arrie fucking me, all of us on the carpet in the lounge. That's my advice to you: never pass up a good fuck!'