The Lies You Tell the Others
(and the lies you tell yourself)
9 - Marked
"I never had sex with a woman before." Michelle craned her neck to look up at the woman in the yellow-print sundress, who began maneuvering herself off the bed now after sighing with satisfaction.
The beautiful, slim, sixtyish woman scoffed. "You said that earlier." She stood up now and surveyed the sight of the bound one on the bed. "No offense, but I find it difficult to believe, my dear. You seem, well, let's just say you have good instincts, then."
"I know what I like from men, so I guessed," Michelle slurred. Released at last from the awkward pose necessary to service her, she was still aligned unnaturally due to the rope binding her wrists. She rolled over onto her side, and by doing so fully exposed her petite and nearly-flat-chested physique again. "Kind of embar'shing to act it out, you know? So... you liked it?" She blinked and squinted, trying to see a little better without her prescription lenses that corrected for severe myopia.
"I would have said something if I didn't." Her tone was more than slightly dismissive. She tossed the used dental dam across the cabin to the dresser drawer, and picked up her panties from the floor and began to put them on; aside from the panties she had not disrobed for sex.
The man, who was fully clothed in his summer attire and still kneeling on the bed behind the pillow where his wife had rested her head, interrupted. "You gave Maggie exactly what she likes. Mostly she likes seeing a girl tied up. You could look at her cross-eyed, after that, and make her cum. Practically." He had been caressing the older woman's breasts for her additional pleasure during the time their willing captive attended to her lower desires.
"I can speak for myself, dear," Maggie admonished. "I just enjoyed having her face more of a challenge, is all."
"I'll say," he replied to her considerable understatement. "And she would have had even more of a challenge if you had let me finish hogtying her."
"That's because you're no good at it," she added haughtily. "It's too easy to mess up, using the rope like that. And it's not safe. Especially when someone's as inebriated as she is."
"So? My turn now?" the not-actually-so-drunk 45-year-old woman asked her, hopefully. "I told you I've never been with a woman before. I want to know what it's like, now that I kept my promise."
He started to reply, but Maggie spoke over him this time. "I think he explained to you at the outset. After all these years, he and I have an agreement, that he doesn't go behind my back on anything anymore." She walked around the bed and added, "I'm satisfied now. But me reciprocating, no, that was never part of the bargain. So you and he can do what you want. Well, he can, considering the circumstances." She made as much of a chuckle of amusement, over the other woman's reduced mobility, as she was ordinarily capable of. "You'll want some fresh protection, of course. You don't mind if I sit over there and read, do you?" George climbed off of the bed also.
"In other words, there was a price to be paid," Michelle said brightly, turning her head toward him, "and now I'm all paid up?"
George held up a hand. "If my wife will let me finish, I was trying to say, she wasn't ever going to reciprocate, no. But I have no plans to go down on you either. Sorry if you had convinced yourself otherwise. So, no. It's not your 'turn' now. It's not going to *be* your turn, for *that*. It's your turn, for, ahem, other activities."
"But I *like* being eaten," Michelle pouted, but only for humor's sake. She immediately corrected herself, "not what I expected, anyway. I told you, back there on the top deck, when you asked me. I just want a good fucking. *Need*. It's been *days*."
"There's no value in being vulgar, my dear," Maggie said to her, as she sat down in the chair at the corner of the small room.
"With your nipples out and your bush showing, back up there, it was pretty clear you were looking for *something*," he told her.
"I wasn't showing that much. Not that much to show," the painfully skinny woman replied. "I just want to come home with a good tan. And then you started talking dirty to me, and I said something back, and you started talking really dirty, and I figured, what the hell, I mean heck, why not?"
"So exactly when was the last time you *got* a good *fucking*?" George inquired sweetly, explicitly rejecting his wife's words of reproval.
"Oh, gosh," the nearly flat-chested woman mused, continuing the minced profanity unlike George, in deference to the dominant woman. "I can't remember, really. It's been so long. Not since the cruise started. At least."
"So you've gone without for, what, six whole days? Five?" George smirked. "Wow. I wonder if any human being has ever gone that long before."
"I'm quite sure *you* never have," Maggie said archly.
George pondered, then asked his wife, "I thought you were reading your lesbian fantasy novel."
"I am," Maggie sniffed, "and it's not lesbian, and it's much more enjoyable than what I'm sure you have in mind." She paused for effect and then added, "in your narrow little world, you'd say I'm a lesbian, too."
"I do."
She gave him a look, in exaggerated annoyance, and then turned back to her book.
The skinny one still had things to say. "Being tied up is really embarrassing for me. Wait, I get it, what are you gonna do, try and buttfuck me? I've never let a man do that. I don't know if I can even handle it. But now there's nothing I can do about it."
Maggie sighed theatrically but refrained from correcting the reversion to bad language.
"Leave the decision making to me," the man told Michelle. He undid the top of his slacks, pushing them down to the floor along with his boxer shorts, and stepped out of them, leaving his unbuttoned floral-pattern linen shirt on for the time being. His 60-year-old cock was larger than average, mostly hard, and partly erect already on its own. It was a handsome and distinguished looking member, no less so than the man himself.
He climbed onto the bed just enough to get proper leverage on her body, and pivoted her ninety degrees on the luxury bedsheets so that she faced the side of the bed with her shoulder at the edge and rolled her onto her tummy again.
"I thought you and I were gonna make love, good and proper," Michelle groused. He got off of the bed again and stood in front of her and straightened her position slightly, obliging her to confront his now very full erection.
"We are. My way," he chuckled. "Besides, you just got done saying you were open to anal."
"I didn't say that. And I've never even given a blow job." She certainly could not pretend to fail to infer his intent by this point. "I don't know how. You're going to have to teach me, if that's what you want." She wriggled, trying to get to a more comfortable position, tied as she was. "I thought we were gonna fuck," she reiterated.
"I really don't need to hear all the vulgarity," Maggie repeated, nestling into the chair at the other end of the room with her mystery novel. "Intercourse, sodomy, fellatio. They're perfectly good terms for what he has in mind for you."
"I never did fellatio," Michelle amended.
He grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head and pressed his tool to her lips. "Never tried oral? How old are you, fourteen? Outside, on the deck, you promised anything I wanted. That's not what somebody totally inexperienced would say, is it?"
