Men in Her Life Ch. 03

As his body begins to loosen, he feels the inner muscles of her thighs relaxing. She is taking in great gulps of air, just as he is. The dark blush across the top of her chest begins to fade as he slowly untangles her legs, his arms, and her hands, lying on her feeling the remaining electrical after shocks.

Leaving her panting and recovering, he rolls over, "My god, where does it come from, this need I have for you?" He takes a few breaths of air, "I'm like a maniac when I'm inside you, I can't get enough and I just want to give you more." He pulls her into his arms and holds her, rubbing his hands up and down her back, "I feel you move and I must have it, and then another and another until I don't know or care if I hurt you. Oh baby, please don't let me hurt you," he pleads, with his mouth pressed against to softness of her neck.

She feels coolness on her chest and rubs her fingers across the sticky moisture and then looks at her fingers. Sitting up she almost screams, "Blood. Charles there's blood on me."

"It's mine baby. It's my blood. Oh god, I didn't hurt you, did I?" He sits up beside her, rubbing his hand through his hair, showing her the blood on his fingers. "I bumped my head. Are you alright?"

"Do you need ... are you ... let me see." When he does not bend his head to let her look, she gets up on her knees, parting his hair with her fingers, looking for the injury. Faster than he has ever seen her move, she is in the bathroom, returning with a washcloth filled with ice, holding it to the injury a moment, then taking it away and finally putting his hand on the cloth to hold it to his head.

"If that doesn't stop bleeding, we may need to go get it stitched," she tells him.

Shaking his head, he says, "Not on your life. I'm not telling some first year resident in an emergency room that I cracked my skull on a hotel wall while I was having rough sex."

"Charles," she chides him.

"NO DAMMIT!" he tells her and then lowers his voice, "No, Marva, it's alright. I'm okay. I don't need stitches. The head bleeds easily and profusely. I'll be fine." He laughs, and when she sees he is not concerned, she laughs too.

He looks at her, as the fear begins to leave her face and he winks, "How about we take a shower and go find something good to eat." He leans over and nuzzles her breast, "Or, I could start eating on you."

She nods, moving away from him, "Okay, shower, wash off the blood, and then food. I can do that."

- - -

When he stops his car in front of her apartment building, the street is crowded with no parking available. She says, "It looks like someone is having a party or something. Just let me out and open the trunk. You don't need to come upstairs with me."

"Marva ...," he starts to protest.

"No," she answers, "It's late. The lights are on, so Karen's home. I'll be alright."

He lifts his hands off the steering wheel and surrenders, "Alright, okay, you're a big girl. I'll call you in a few days."

As soon as she opens the front door, she realizes why there are so many extra cars on the street below. Elizabeth, Bryan, and Karen are sitting around the kitchen table. David Wells is closing the refrigerator door and opening a can of beer. Callie is standing beside her sister, bending over to look at several magazines spread around the table.

After saying, "Hi," to everyone, Marva takes her suitcase to her bedroom before going back to the kitchen. Closing her door behind her, she meets David standing beside the bathroom door as if he used that reason to follow her down the hall.

Leaning against the wall, he folds his arms across his chest and cocks his head to the side, nods at her and says, "I guess that love bite on your neck, means there might be some truth to the Marvelous Marva Rumor, huh?"

She stares him down, "It's none of your business David," and then turns to go to the kitchen, but is jerked back and turned around when David grabs her upper arm.

"What if I want to make it my business?" He asks, sneering at her and trying to put his arms around her.

Marva pushes him away and glares at him. "You don't have that right. I told you once before, and I'll say it again. I don't want to screw you. I don't want to fuck you. I don't even want to kiss you, much less talk to you. But I'll be polite because you're my brother's friend. Otherwise, leave me the hell alone." She turns and goes into the kitchen and takes the empty chair, defying anyone to remark on what they obviously heard her tell David.

Callie places a magazine in front of her, pointing toward one model, wearing a sleeveless empire waist dress with a slightly flared skirt and square armholes. "Do you think we can make six dresses like this?"

Marva looks at Elizabeth. "How long do we have and is there a pattern for this dress, or do we have to make the pattern?"

Elizabeth responds, "I thought I'd let you help me with that. I can operate a sewing machine, but I'm not skilled like you are."

Marva looks up at Callie, "Can I have this magazine or at least this page. I'll look for the patterns online, or go to a fabric store and look through their books. Do either of you know how many different sizes I'll need?" She turns to Elizabeth, "What kind of fabric do you want to use?"

Elizabeth looks around the table, waiting for a suggestion from Callie or Karen, but finally turns to Marva. "Give me a suggestion."

"If you still want to start with different shades, it needs to be something that we can find in six shades. So nothing fancy, and nothing heavy either. The skirts will just droop if we use a heavy material or we will have to wear petticoats. Please don't add petticoats to the sewing chores."

David walks back into the room and stands beside Bryan, almost touching Callie. Elizabeth smiles as if she has not a single care in the world. "Good then" she reaches up and pats her sister's cheek. "I'll just leave the bridesmaids dresses to you two."

Marva interrupts, "I still don't know how much time we have."

"Six months," Elizabeth says, with pride.

Marva looks at Callie, and then at Elizabeth, and takes a deep breath. "That means a winter wedding and this is a summer dress."

Karen leans over to look at the dress and asks, "Can you just add sleeves to it? Will that work?"

"Oh lord," Marva shakes her head, "I don't know. Give me a few days to figure this out."

Elizabeth smiles and looks at Bryan, sits up straight in her chair, and turns to Marva. "Marva, will you make my dress for me?"

Marva shakes her head. "No, no, no. I wouldn't even make my own wedding dress. It's too hard. Order one, buy one from a bridal shop, or have one made by a professional seamstress. I'm not even promising I'll do the other six. I need a couple of days."

For another hour the six discuss wedding plans, church or meeting hall preferences, and catering choices as Bryan and David's eyes glaze over. Bryan finally leaves his chair, telling Callie to sit down while the two men move to the couch and turn on the television, quickly becoming interested in a movie.

Callie sits down, gently rubs her finger down the love bite on Marva's neck and leans over to ask, "Who's the man that's bold enough to do that?"

Marva does not change the expression on her face, when she asks, "Did you hear what I told David?"

"Yes, good girl, he can be a little forward, if you don't keep him in line" Callie says, as if she has already mastered keeping David Wells in line.

Marva thinks to herself, that perhaps Callie is bitten by the marriage bug, too. But she tells Callie the same thing she told David, "My personal life is none of your business, either," but she grins and adds a very proper English, "Dah'ling."

Callie bursts into laughter, "Oh my god, you sound just like Aunt Grace." Turning to Elizabeth, Callie says, "Listen to this," and then looks at Marva, "Say it again, so Elizabeth can hear." Then she looks at Karen to explain, "Marva sounds just like our cousin's mother."

Marva could kick herself, blushing so badly she fears they may discover she has actually heard their Aunt Grace say that word.

Elizabeth asks Callie, "Did he ever call you back? I left a message for him yesterday, too. I wonder where he's been all week-end, some bimbo probably has her hooks in him and he's sniffing up her skirt. Lord, Lady Grace says she's going to disown him if he doesn't give her some grandchildren soon."

Callie laughs, "Last I heard he said he wasn't going to get married until he is at least fifty. He said he won't run out of women until then. About the only woman I know of, who could change his mind, is sitting right there," she says pointing at Marva. "He likes her."

"How do you know?" Elizabeth asks.

Callie swells up, holding the juicy information inside as long as she can and finally says, "Goodness gracious, you should have seen the way he looked at her when I introduced them. I thought he was going to sit down on his haunches and start panting."

Karen laughs out loud, "Oh my goodness, the way you girls talk about men, I'm just glad I don't want one of them." She continues to laugh and the other three soon join her, but perhaps for different reasons.

- - -

Arriving at the jogging track a little after six o'clock, Marva is just starting her warm up exercises when Richard Farnsworth stops beside her and sits down to stretch. "Good morning, Marva. I missed you for a few days. I was out of town."

"Yeah?" She replies, "I was too. And I missed walking, so I'm going to be stiff tonight."

"Then let's take it slow, it'll give me a better opportunity to get to know you," he responds and walks beside her for the whole time she is on the track, asking questions about herself, the city, and the area. When Marva says she's had enough for one day, Richard agrees, adding that he walked longer than usual, just so he could talk to her. He invites her to a quick breakfast, but understands when she declines because she has to go to work. He has one more hour than she does. They wave to each other as they drive away.

It takes several more days for Richard to ask Marva to have dinner, or go to a movie with him. She is not too reluctant. She enjoys their conversations, learning he is working for one of the local engineering firms. He has been out of school for a few years, but did not like his last job, although he is excited about the new one. It is a smaller firm and he will have an opportunity for a more varied workload.

Richard Farnsworth is an easy going, good conversationalist. He has a varied education, not deciding until late to go to engineering school, so it took him at least one additional year to finish college. He is not a tall man, at least not as tall as Marva's brother Bryan, and certainly no where near as tall, or big, as Charles, nor is he as dark as Charles. He has light brown hair, light brown eyes and is a neat dresser. He says he usually wears a shirt and tie to work, but doesn't need a sport coat, their office is rather informal. He takes her out several times before he kisses her for the first time, other than a quick good night kiss when he takes her home. The night he kisses her with passion, she invited him in to look through her record collection, some old 78 rpm records her father collected and gave to her as a graduation present. They play a few of the records, sitting on the couch, laughing at how much music and recording has changed over the years.

He stops kissing her and puts his hands on both side of her face and looks at her, "You know I want to do more than kiss you, don't you?" Marva nods and blushes, but doesn't say anything. He touches his lips to hers and says, "But I don't think you are ready for something like that between us, are you?"

"No, I ... I don't ... darn," she stutters, trying to explain. "I don't think I know you well enough, yet."

"Okay, I like you Sweetheart," he says, unashamed at using the endearment. "I'll give you the time you need to know me. I'm not in a rush, but I'm not going to let you get away from me, either."

- - -

The next afternoon, Charles calls. "It is Sunday afternoon, the best day of the week for a long nap. I'm horny. I'm on my way to pick you up. Are you going to meet me downstairs or do I need to come up to get you?"

"How do you know I want to see you?" Marva teases, feeling her arousal beginning just from hearing his voice.

"You get wet when you hear my voice and I can smell you from a mile away. Be downstairs in five minutes."

And then she hears nothing, knowing he has folded his phone and put it back in his pocket. She walks into the bathroom and checks her pill pack, just to make sure she knows how many days there are until her period starts. She knew any way, and he probably does too. He picked up her pill pack in the motel and counted the pills, looked at her and grinned. "I have to keep track of you."

Marva leaves a note for Karen, writing that she will be home late and will take care of her own supper. Karen will probably be late, too. She and Cynthia are spending the afternoon with Cynthia's parents. It has taken almost two months since Bryan's birthday party for the two girls to get back to the level of comfort they had before their big argument. Neither of them will comment on what the problem was, or is, but they seem to be, once again, a stable couple, not as close as Karen would like, though. Even if she hasn't said anything, Marva knows Karen wants Cynthia to be a real partner, living together, permanently.

Charles stops his car, just barely long enough for Marva to get in and close the door. She buckles her seat belt as he drives down the block. "My my, he's in a hurry, isn't he," she teases him.

"I was right about you being wet, wasn't I?" When she does not respond to his question, he asks again, "Wasn't I, baby?"

"Charles, what difference does it make? I'm here, aren't I?"

He looks at her, nods once and asks, "Do you want me to take you back home? I'm not asking the question merely to be argumentative. I'm asking for the truth."

"No, I'm just not in a good mood, I guess," she answers truthfully.

"What's wrong?" He asks. "And don't say, "Nothing." I hate it when women complain, but won't say what it's about. Either don't talk about it, or tell us, men don't read minds very well."

"I don't do that to you," she objects.

"No, you don't. I'm sorry. You're right, you don't do that. Some women do and I don't mean to lump you in with all of them. See, I guess I'm not in a good mood, either."

Marva laughs, "What's wrong? And don't say, "Nothing." I hate it when men complain, but won't say what it's about."

Charles roars with laughter. He pounds his fist on the steering wheel and laughs louder. "Lord woman, why do I let you tease me like that? I must be a masochist, looking for some kind of punishment for some sin I don't even know I've committed."

"Is that why you aren't going to get married until you're fifty years old? Because you don't like to listen to women complain?"

"Where on earth did you hear that?" He asks and starts nodding as soon as she mentions Callie's name. "Good grief, she's been trying to find me a wife since she was ten years old. She said if she can't have me, she wants to make sure I get a good one."

For the remainder of the trip to his house, they discuss the wedding plans, which he says he would prefer to avoid, but will not get the chance. Marva agrees and suggests they could move to a deserted island until the hullabaloo is all over with. He likes her idea, but fears Elizabeth would invade the island, just to make them miserable.

He takes her to bed, and spends at least an hour touching her, caressing her, allowing her to do the same to him, never stopping the increased arousal, just as she does to him, and then lies panting beside her, begging her to leave him alone, and then shows her what he wants her to do next.

Marva tells him about her confrontation with David Wells and he congratulates her, and laughs about the mark he left on her neck, apologizing again, as he did when he noticed it. He said he will be more careful, he did not realize she bruises so easily. He shows her the healed scratches she left on his chest and allows her to make sure the small cut on top of his head is nearly healed.

Sitting up on the bed, Marva asks, "Charles, why aren't we monogamous?"

"Whoa, whoa, what gave you that idea?"

Very slowly she explains that she has had several dates with one particular man. He asks her about him and she is brutally honest, even about the way he kisses her and how she feels about his kisses. He reminds her that he has always told her she needs a man who is domesticated, wants a home, a family, and a loving wife. It takes him a while to discover she is afraid. Not afraid of going to bed with Richard, but afraid he won't be as exciting as Charles is, or that she will compare the two of them and not be happy with the comparison.

"Baby, I think you are in love with Richard, aren't you?" Charles asks, watching the blush rise up her chest, her neck and flood her cheeks with color.

She lies down and pulls the covers over her, finally cooled off from their exertions. "I don't know if I'm in love with him, or not. I like him. I like him a lot. But that's not enough to be called love."

"You are never going to know, until you find out. So, go find out. Spend the night with him. Go to his place after work some afternoon. Do something to answer the questions you have. Enjoy yourself, too."

"But what about ... I don't want ...," she stutters.

"Oh lord," he says in exasperation, stopping her. "Marva, sit up here. We need to have a very serious discussion." When she has done so, he says, "I'm right here. I'm always right here. If that is something you want, I'll take you and enjoy every moment you give me. If you cannot see the difference in a man like me, and one you can build a life with, then I will miss you. I'll probably be the most miserable man on the face of the earth for a long time. My family will hate me for months and months. My mother will refuse to see me and my business will suffer, but you are worth every second of my misery."

"But I don't want that to happen," she complains.

"You can't do anything to prevent it. I will not take one ounce of your happiness away from you. That's what would happen if I allowed you to think that anything we have cannot be replaced by the love of a good man."

"Charles ..."

"No, don't make excuses. Don't give me an apology. I do not deserve them. You need to think about what is right for you and the children you want. I know you want children. Marry a man who will give you children, who can afford to let you stay home with them and see they grow up to be happy people."

"Can I ... can we ...," he watches her battle to say what she wants and he will not help her. Instead he waits, knowing what she will ask and he does not know how he will answer. "I'm not sure how to ask something like that. Am I still going to be able to see you?"

"That's not what you want to know is it?" She shakes her head. "You want to know if I will still want to fuck you. You want to know if, when you have a real need to be fucked, if I will be here for you. That's what you want to know, isn't it?" When she doesn't answer, he takes her shoulders in his hands and shakes her, "Isn't it? You want to know, if you marry Richard, and spend every night with a man in your bed, if you will still have a fuck buddy?"

Finally she nods, looking him straight in the eyes, "Yes, I want to know if I will still have a fuck buddy. One who makes me cum, and scream with the pleasure he gives me. Are you satisfied?"

"Yes, thank you. And, yes, I will still want to push my cock into you as far as it will go. I will always want to taste the sweetness of your pussy and plead for your mouth on my cock. I'll find an afternoon, anytime you have the freedom to come to me. I'll steal a morning when you escape your castle to look for me. I will leave my clients sitting at the bargaining table and come to you, wherever you are. If you leave this city, I will drive, fly, swim, or walk for the few hours you will share your body with me. Are you satisfied?"