Men in Her Life Ch. 02

"Oh hell, Bryan" Karen complains. "I look awful in yellow and I'm going to be at the end because I'm the tallest, which means I'll have to wear the lightest shade."

Marva cannot resist asking, "Callie and Elizabeth don't have a brother. Have you two talked about the men in the wedding party."

Bryan shakes his head, "Not much. I think they have a cousin, but that's all she's said so far. I'm thinking about asking David Wells to be my best man. He's reporting to work at the beginning of next week."

Marva looks into the kitchen and sniffs as if she is checking something on the stove and mentions, "I think I met their cousin, Charlie or Charles Tester. He's a client of Mister Rowe's."

"Yeah, that's him, I think." David turns to her and asks, "What do you think about David Wells?"

Marva holds up her hands, "You know what I think about him. But if that's who you want for your best man, you're welcome to him. He will be Callie's date, if Callie is going to be maid of honor."

"Yeah, as far as I know. Alright, that's enough wedding shit," David says and then changes the subject. "I brought a movie for us to watch. Who is making the popcorn?"

Near the middle of the movie, Karen calls for an intermission when her cell phone rings and Marva goes to the bathroom. When she gets back to the living room she looks down to make sure she zipped her jeans because both Karen and Bryan are looking at her strangely. She doesn't give it much thought until Bryan starts the movie again and leans over to ask, "Hey, Marvelous Marva, how's your love life?"

She explodes out of her chair and Karen catches her as Marva grabs one handful of Bryan's hair. She screams at him, "Who the hell is this Parker that tells you I'm the hottest fuck in town and how many men have you told that to? That I know of, I've never fucked a man by the name of Parker, but maybe I should check my diary, just to be sure." She turns, walks down the hall, and slams her bedroom door.

For several minutes she paces around her bedroom, sits down and picks up Bryan shirt, and then stands, throwing the shirt back on top of the sewing machine, and finally falls on the bed, dry eyed, but wishing she could cry and get it over with. Instead she turns on her television and watches the news. Halfway through the news, she turns the television off, changes to her nightgown, and crawls under the covers, going to sleep quickly, despite the sounds of gunshots and bombs as Karen and Bryan watch the remainder of the movie.

The next morning Karen says Bryan wants Marva to call him. He will explain about the comment he made to David Wells and says he's sorry. He knows he should not have said it, but he and David were talking on the telephone while arranging for the job interview and David asked Bryan to set him up with a date while he was in town. Bryan says he jokingly said, "Hey, just ask my sister, Marvelous Marva."

Instead of calling Bryan, Marva takes an early lunch and goes to Bryan's office. She has to wait in the reception room for a few minutes. He is on a conference call. When he comes out to greet her, she walks to him and on her tip toes, pulls his head down so she can kiss his cheek.

She follows him to his office, places a bag with his shirt in it on his desk, and apologizes. "I'm sorry Bryan. I guess my nerves are on edge."

"I know," Bryan nods. "I'm not sure what happened, but David is beside himself. He calls me at least every other day asking if you are still mad at him or if it is safe to call you yet."

"I don't think I want to tell you what happened, but I do know I don't want to be in a room alone with him. Alright, that's enough said. Tell me who is this jerk, Parker, and what did he say?"

"Marva," Bryan exclaims. "If I tell you, you gotta promise me, you won't say anything to him."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not going to pull his hair out by the roots," Marva says, trying to show that she is much calmer now than she was the previous evening. "But I'd like to know how he thinks he has the right to say things, like that, about me."

Bryan puts a serious look on his face, "I don't think he has any right to say something about you, and what's more I should be horsewhipped for repeating anything he said. I am humbly sorry for letting something so ugly out of my mouth."

Bryan tells her to turn around and look through the glass wall that allows Bryan to see most of the telephone sales people in the large central office. "You see that guy with the light brown hair, standing in the third cube. That's Randy Parker. He was at Boyle's at the same time David and I worked there. He was in here one day and saw that picture of you and Karen on my credenza."

Marva looks behind Bryan and sees one of her favorite photos. Karen is on her knees, pleading with the much shorter Marva looming over her, trying to pin Karen's graduation mortar board on her head. "He asked which one was my sister and which one was my girlfriend. I told him both of you are my sisters. The one kneeling is Karen and the one standing is Marva. He said, "Ah, the Marvelous Marva. I heard she's one of the hottest fucks in town." Honest Marva, those are the exact words he used. He turned around and left my office. If that wasn't shatter resistant glass, I might have thrown him through it."

"God, now what do I do?" Marva asks. "He's not going to stop saying it, is he?"

Bryan shakes his head, "Probably not, he's one of those men who gets a saying inside his head and repeats it, until he learns a new one. He saw an old movie on television one night and for several weeks almost every sentence he said, started with "Jumpin' Jack Flash." When David called to say he wanted to come back to work here, I mean in this town, he wanted to know who else he might know that was working here. I told him, "Parker's here." David said something about, well, he knows Parker. He asked, like, "What's his favorite saying today?" and I repeated what Parker said, without much thought. But I had no idea he would say it to you."

Marva looks at Parker again, before asking, "Would it do me any good to threaten him?" Marva asks, but Bryan shakes his head. He laughs, but continues to shake his head when Marva suggests she tell Parker that she will have his cock cut off if he so much as mentions her name and the word fuck in the same sentence.

Bryan finally says, "I think he's already saying something else, anyway. If you say anything to him, he will just start all over again. Let it die down."

- - -

Friday morning, at the nearby high school practice track, one of the new walkers moves quickly and matching his pace to Marva, introduces himself as Richard Farnsworth. He jokes that he is not the famous actor, but thinks he's seen all of the man's movies. Marva recognizes the name and they chat for a full round of the track before Marva leaves to go home and shower before going to work.

Friday afternoon, as Marva is leaving her office, her cell phone rings. "Does your pussy get wet when you hear my voice?"

"Hello Charles," Marva tries to keep her voice calm and may even fool Charles.

"Stand right where you are, I'm three blocks away."

"How can you be so sure I want to see you?" She asks, stopping in the middle of the driveway.

"You may not want me, but you need me to fuck you. Your need is only slightly less, than the need I have, to fuck you," his voice is husky and deep. "Look up, I'm driving into the parking lot and you better be undressed by the time we get to my house."

"No, I think you should take me to dinner first," Marva says, speaking into her cell phone, looking straight at him when he stops his car beside her and lowers the passenger window. She does not take a single step toward his car. Instead, she licks her lips and stares at him.

"Marva, it has been three weeks and I need to fuck you. I can't say it any plainer than that. I am your fuck buddy. I might think about taking you to dinner tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. Tonight, I need to fuck you. Why didn't you call me?"

She takes a deep breath and looks at him, "I didn't know I was supposed to call you."

"I am your fuck buddy. I'm not your boyfriend. I am not your suitor. There is nothing between us but fucking, no foreplay, no flirting, nothing but fucking. You call me when you want to be fucked hard, deep, long, and nasty. I call you when I can't go another day without the taste of your pussy in my mouth. NOW, GET IN THE DAMN CAR," he yells and folds his phone, staring at her as he puts it in his shirt pocket and pushes the button to raise the window.

When she is seated in the car, he stares at her and growls "Buckle your seat belt." They go across town, neither of them speaking. Several times he looks over at her and pointedly looks at the buttons on her blouse, but she does not lift her hands to unbutton them.

She walks into the house ahead of him, but turns to go sit at the kitchen table, carefully placing her small handbag on the table in front of her. He walks up behind her and puts his hands on her upper arms, lifting her to her feet. "GO!" he demands, pointing toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

Marva, once again, sits down on the kitchen chair and yells, "NO!"

He leans over her and says, "Go to the bedroom, undress, and get in my bed, or I will fuck you here on the kitchen floor. I don't give a shit which one."

She stands and turns to him. "Charles, why do you do this to me? Can't you just be civil and ask me? Why must you command me like I'm your slave or nothing more than a whore for you to use and abuse?"

He throws his hands in the air, mumbles something about women needing to learn that sex is not complicated, he walks halfway to the hall door, then turns around and comes back to her, taking her arm, and walking with her back to the bedroom. He takes care, but does it quickly, without resistance, removing her clothing and pushing her onto the bed, violently removes his own clothing and falls on her, thrusting his cock into her and pounding at her until she is mindlessly moving with him.

When the first intensity has abated, he slows and continues to move in and out of her until he feels her first contractions, and he slowly stops, waiting, braced above her, his arms trembling as he looks down at her. He lowers himself, puts his arms around her and rolls over, pulling her on top of him.

He reaches up and places his hands on the sides of her face, pulling her down for a slow moving kiss. He runs his tongue across the seam of her lips and then does it again until she opens her mouth to his exploration. After a few more kisses he allows her to roll off of him, but will not let her get very far away, holding her to him, her arm across his chest, her head on his shoulder.

"I am obsessed," he says, just barely louder than a whisper. "I wake up in the middle of the night with my cock so hard it's throbbing. I drool imagining the taste of your pussy on my tongue."

"You think you're the only one?" She laughs a nasty laugh. "I climax in my sleep and wake up to discover I'm in my own bed, alone."

Charles gets out of bed, walks around the end of the bed, and takes his short robe off the hook on the inside of the bathroom door. He walks toward her, putting the robe around her shoulders and pulls his boxers on. "Come on, let's go find something to fix for supper."

Marva follows him to the kitchen and sits down at the table staring out the kitchen window. He opens the freezer door, stands for a moment, then closes the door and walks to sit down in the chair beside her.

After another a few minutes, Charles stands, goes to the kitchen cabinet and starts a pot of coffee, standing over it until it has finished perking. He pours two cups of coffee, places one in front of Marva, and then returns to his chair.

"Thank you," she says. They are the first words she has spoken since she sat down.

After another long silence, Charles clears his throat and takes another sip of his coffee. "Marva, can you take a few days off?"

"Probably," she answers. "I haven't taken any vacation time this year. Plus, I have those two days from being on call for one of Mister Rowe's favorite clients." She looks up at him and grins.

He smiles at her and says, "I want at least three whole days of your time. I want to take you away from here, some place where we can be alone. I just need you all to my self. It's selfish as hell, but I don't care. I need you." He looks over her head and she watches as the muscles in his jaw flex, relax, and flex again, as if he is bracing for something to happen he does not want.

She answers him stiffly, perhaps not understanding, but willing to do as he asks. "Would you like me to call Mister Rowe and ask if I can take Monday and Tuesday off?"

He nods, "Yes, do you mind doing that?"

She shakes her head and reaches for her handbag, removing her phone. Charles stands and walks to the sink, washes his hands, and then starts taking bacon, biscuits, and eggs from the refrigerator, starting something for them to eat. She folds her phone, moves to the stove, and starts helping him with their meal.

"Can you finish this? I'm going to throw a few things in a suitcase," he says walking away from her, not waiting for her answer.

When he is back in the kitchen, she has their meal on the table and they eat quickly, hardly exchanging any more words than are necessary. "You go dress and I'll clean up in here," he tells her, turning his back to clean off the stove and put everything he can reach into the dishwasher.

When she is back in the kitchen, he walks to the front door, checks the lock and collects his mail, tossing it on a small table beside the door, before turning off the kitchen light as they go into the garage.

"I guess I'll take you to your car and follow you home. Can you put some casual things in a bag, while I wait for you?" He asks, in a voice calm and unemotional, unlike the intensity of an hour earlier.

"Sure, I just need to tell Karen. I'll need half an hour, or so. You want to go service your car while I do that? Your fuel gage is almost empty."

"Yeah, that'll work" he looks at her and grins. "I'll pick you up at your apartment in about that amount of time."

He leaves her beside her car, making sure she drives out of the parking lot ahead of him and they turn in opposite directions. He is ringing the doorbell before Karen gets home, but Marva has written her a note. Her packed bag is beside the door. Charles picks up her bag and locks the door behind them, then stands calmly as they wait for the elevator.

He is quiet as he drives across town. Occasionally he looks at Marva and if she is looking at him, she smiles. Her smile is a little shaky, as if she is nervous. As they reach the city limits, he asks, "Is there any place you would like to go, that's in a reasonable driving distance?"

Marva, looking out the side window, turns her head at the sound of his voice. She shakes her head and says, "No, not really," and then turns her head toward the window again.

Finally able to set the cruise control, he reaches a hand to her and squeezes her hand. "You know, one of the things that's wrong with modern cars is, we no longer have bench seats so a guy can drive with his arm around his girl. I think I'm going to buy a pickup for my next one. Some of them have bench seats and the arm rest can be raised up to the backrest. I'd like that."

Marva laughs, "When Karen, Bryan and I were in school, we drove my dad's old pickup with all three of us in the front seat. I haven't thought about that in years. When Karen graduated, it was just Bryan and me. Finally, I drove that old truck to school all by myself. I missed them."

"You're not afraid of me, are you, baby?" Charles asks her and holds his breath waiting for her answer.

"No, I don't think so. I've never done anything like this. I guess I'm just a little nervous."

"Well hell, I've never done anything like this either, so I'm nervous, too. But every time I'm near you, I feel like I need to rush and I'm tired of feeling like that. And then a couple of hours later, you are gone and I want you back for another hour. I told you, I'm obsessed."

After a few minutes of silence, she asks, "Charles, why are we doing this? We can have time together if you really want it. All you need to do is ask me."

"I'm not sure. I guess the temptation of letting you leave me and knowing I can call you back is part of it. I enjoy that I can dominate you, although I'll lie down and let you have command of me if that's what you would rather do. I don't even know if you have a nickname. I know what you taste like. God, I love the taste of you. But I don't think I've ever noticed if you wear polish on your toenails."

She can't help herself. She laughs and continues to laugh, bending over until the seatbelt won't stretch any more. "Oh lord. We are a mess, aren't we? I know about the little scar on your right shoulder, but I don't know if you have any others."

"Do you know that you have a large mole on the right lip of your pussy? I can feel it with my tongue. But I don't know if your ears are pierced. I was in the mall the other day, looking at the lighting and I walked by a jewelry store. They had this display of huge loops and I imagined you wearing them, and nothing else. But for the life of me, I didn't know if you could even do that, because all I've ever done is concentrate on one thing about you, your pussy. In the next couple of days, I'm going to have all of those questions answered. I guess that's what this is about."

"And do I get to do the same?" Marva teases him, finally beginning to loose some of her nervousness.

"Oh yes, please. I'll get down on my knees and beg you to touch every inch of me. I'll let you hold my balls and my cock and watch it grow hard because I can smell you beside me. I'll roll over and let you sit on my hips while you scratch every inch of my back."

Marva gets very quiet when she asks, "Charles is that all we are? I mean, to each other, fuck buddies?"

"I don't know. I've never had one before," he admits. "I don't think you have either, at least not at your age." He looks at her, listening intently to him talking. "I'm not a monk. I've had some pretty intense relationships, but nothing that lasted longer than a few months. I seem to frighten women away, or I'm not attentive enough. When I'm working hard, I can't give them the attention they seem to need, or I begin to feel smothered. Maybe I don't care enough. I'm not sure if that's something that comes to a man, after he's been alone for a while, or if it's something he has to force himself to learn. I just don't know."

"The night ... that first night," she tries to explain. "I was going to dinner, I mean with Bryan, Elizabeth, and David. Elizabeth and I were in the back seat, talking. She said men don't get serious about a woman until she lets him know he is allowed to be serious. She said that a woman can get him in bed, get his attention, and then he will get serious. I don't think I like that very much."

"I don't like it very much either, but she may be right. Men don't think as deeply, or as intricately as a woman does. When a man wants sex, he just wants sex. But I believe a woman thinks she wants romance, so she participates sexually. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle, for both of them."

"So you need to learn to romance a woman and a woman needs to learn to want sex," Marva says, watching him nod.

However, he surprises her when he says, "Men like romance, too. I enjoy being teased. Mercy, you tease me."

"I do not!" Marva declares.

"Oh yes you do. You think about how you stood beside the car this evening and looked at me. I was melting inside. You licked your lips and I imagined you licking my cock. You walked in the house and sat down in the kitchen as if you were going to defy me. I almost picked you up. I was going to throw you over my shoulder and take you back to my bedroom, like a macho caveman claiming his prize."