Marc's Single Life

Author's Note: This is the fourth part of a series of five I wrote at my wife's request. You can read it stand-alone but you might enjoy it more if you read the first three parts for context. All characters are over 18.

Part 4 - Church Girl Returns

The weekend starts now. I like the people in my working group but I was ready to go home and have a quiet weekend to myself. However, a drink on the way couldn't hurt and I joined my project team at a martini bar on our city's trendy waterfront.

I smiled as I pulled into the parking garage. I haven't been here in years. It used to be a real meat market later in the night after the business crowd cleared out; now I'm the business crowd. The cool waterfront air and a standard vodka martini recharged my social batteries as the girl watching of my earlier years has matured into the simple relaxation that comes with adulthood.

Groups of businessmen and women like us, along with some downtown shoppers, came and went. The sea breeze became cooler as the sun lowered and the crowd began to transition into younger partiers; I was surprised some of them made it past the bouncer. The changing crowd made me feel more like 40 than 30. It was time to settle up and leave.

The only thing standing between me and the short drive home was a visit to the men's room. Shit. It couldn't be; not in a place like this on a Friday night. This is no place for a nice church girl but those long strawberry blonde locks were unmistakable. She turned toward her friends giving me a clear profile of her smile and blue eyes and there was no doubt. She took ladylike sips from her boutique martini as naturally as anyone else in the bar. She was dressed for a night out in a fashionable party dress and higher heels than I'd seen her wear before, that one heel dangling on the edge of her toes flexing up to her heel and back down again.

I hadn't seen her in several months and hadn't texted in about as long. It's not like I wasn't interested but you know, life got in the way. Actually there's no good explanation. Best if I snuck out and avoided her. I'll just forego the restroom and go home, I didn't need any awkward interactions. Damn if she didn't look good though.

I turned my attention back to my own companions and said goodbye with a half-hearted 'see you Monday.' I looked back to Church Girl's table and half the table, including Lindsey, were gone. The bar was clear; must be a herd visit to the ladies' room. Egress, egress, egress. Instead of going to the front door, I discreetly walked out to the back patio to slip out to the side; tall stand heaters were now positioned to keep the deck crowd comfy and I almost reached the safety of the street.

"Marc?"

I stopped dead and turned back with a false 'did someone call me?' look in spite of her unmistakable voice.

"Lindsey, hi!"

Of all the possibilities, having a cigarette out by the space heaters wasn't one I'd contemplated. I'd be home free if I had just walked out the front door like a man. I'd played myself. I was momentarily off balance and had to play this somewhere in the gap between acting like old friends and acting like I barely knew her.

Instead of splashing her martini in my face, Lindsey leaned forward for a one-armed hug and a mock kiss on the cheek as she held her cigarette up and away. The awkwardness fell away with the 'how have you been' small talk. Her friends gracefully slunk away soon after Lindsey introduced us.

I was still guarded. Whether or not I ghosted her was in the eye of the beholder and now I was honestly trying to be friendly. We only had one very tame quasi-date before the hookup and most of that conversation centered on her home life and church activities. Neither topic fit this setting. Her whole persona had turned upside down, meaning she looked like a normal 23 year old should at a trendy bar. Her fancy martini looked as natural in her one hand as the long, slender cigarette looked in the other.

"How have you been? You look great."

Lindsey thankfully seemed comfortable with our interaction and gave her superficial life updates; she'd finally moved out of her parents' house and into an affordable apartment giving her the freedom to go out with her girlfriends for a night of fun. She's dated different guys, but didn't have a boyfriend and wasn't looking for one, just enjoying her early-20's life. A glimmer of her still-youthful outlook showed when she assured me she's no party girl, she just likes to get out and have fun sometimes; I guess still seeing me as some sort of parental figure she had to explain herself to. Good god, I'm only 30. I told her I met up with some work friends and was on my way to the comfort of my own home where I could have another drink, get out of this suit and into something more comfortable. I was just trying to be tame and conversational but she cut her eyes up at me and smiled through a thin stream of smoke escaping her pursed lips.

Dammit...

For once the frustratingly slow elevator in my building worked to my advantage. I know the security desk watches the cameras but I didn't care. I wrapped my arms around her from behind as we smiled at ourselves in the mirror. I wouldn't call her petite; she doesn't have the firm muscle tone Married Christine has, but seemed to have less padding on her hips than I remembered from the only other time we held each other. Her feminine scent was as different as her appearance; a cocktail of body lotion, fragrant lipstick, with residual gin and faint menthol smoke in her kiss. She kissed me back with fervor, pulling my hands around her waist as if afraid to let me go.

I know she loved the view from my apartment but her 'whoa' exclamation got my attention.

"Yeah, storm front coming in I guess, probably some snow behind it."

We continued our kissing and vertical cuddling as we looked to the east. Flashes of lightning illuminated the night sky and oncoming cloud bank; classic nor'easter.

*Lindsey*

I was so proud of myself for moving into my own apartment; until we rode the 18 floors up to Marc's place. Give yourself a break Lindsey, you've only been on your own a few months. Marc's ambitious and moved up faster than most. He's the last person I expected to run into but I knew I'd be up here again as soon as I saw him. Now, feeling his strong hands caress my body confirmed I was right where I needed to be. I'm so glad I don't have a boyfriend. The guys I've dated over the past six months aren't really relationship material but were fun in the moment. I didn't have sex with all of them, none could really measure up to Marc. Marc made it clear he's not interested in anything long term but I can tell he cares about me and I feel safe with him. The more guys I date, the more I appreciate his honesty and confidence without needing to try too hard. I need to make sure he won't regret bringing me home.

I knelt before him, holding his cock in my hands, stroking as I smiled up at him. I'd submitted to becoming his again; and so loved it. His hand lovingly brushed my hair back behind my ear and caressed my cheek making me feel like a good girl in the submissive act I was performing for him.

A bright flash with an accompanying crack illuminated the room and startled me. I was so lost in the moment I'd forgotten about the storm in spite of the rumbles that preceded it. I looked up from his cock and giggled at the embarrassment. My heart didn't need any help pounding out of my chest but that very close lightning flash infused a dimension of danger. I resumed, admittedly showing off some additional skill I hadn't possessed when Marc first took me six months ago. I relaxed my tongue and slid forward as far as I could go, not quite making it all the way to where he was clean shaven but enough to elicit a gratifying groan accompanied by his verbal validation. A man's balls are the least attractive part of the male body, but Marc was clean all the way back, not even a hint of stubble. I cupped and fondled with one hand while the other stroked his shaft in time with my lips.

Without warning, Marc withdrew and lifted me up by my hands and literally tossed me onto his bed, yanking my hips toward his face. I was his now, to do whatever he wanted. All I had to do was submit to whatever he wanted from me. None of the others I've been with dared handle me like this but I knew I was safe with Marc. I felt like I was the only passenger strapped onto a roller coaster.

He left me alone momentarily while he positioned himself. By now the lightning flashes regularly strobed, lighting up the room. I rolled onto my knees and leaned forward with my hands on the headboard and looked back at him; no words needed. I reached one hand down to guide him in, remembering how he teased me last time with his sawing, rubbing and poking. But the more I pulled him toward me the more he pulled back. I leaned my ass back toward him to no avail. My fingers teased myself waiting for his arrival. I finally looked back, only to see an evil grin as if he knew what he was doing to me.

"God, will you just fuck me already?" I finally whispered in playful frustration.

That's apparently what he was waiting for and he pulled my torso back into him and kissed me, taking my hand in his down beneath to let me do the honors. He'd broken me; I officially begged him for it.

His fingers slid between mine and held them against his cock as it slid in and out, remembering how I wanted to feel him entering me. His fingers and mine alternated tickling my clit, charging my passion into overdrive. He was pushing so hard I had to move that hand back onto the headboard to hold myself steady. I could feel his hand on the nape of my neck gliding up through my hair until he had enough of a fistful to pull me back toward his torso and shove his tongue into my mouth. Pushing my face back down into his pillows should have felt degrading, but it felt so good to be Marc's property right now. He seemed to know when I was almost there, and then backed off to save me for some other adventure. Prolonging my release frustrated me and made me want him more.

Marc rolled over onto his back and positioned me cowgirl. This time he didn't help me, he had his hands on my boobs, allowing me to position his rod upright and slowly lower myself. With no words and minimal movement of his own aside from meeting my rocking back and forth, he'd given me permission to take the lead. I rotated around, grinding him inside me to hit all the right spots and lifted up enough to feel the bottom of his bell head pop in and out of my inner lips.

It starts in the pit of my stomach, butterfly tingles that spread through every fiber in my body, then I get lightheaded. My pussy squeezes and contracts. Tiny, tingly muscle spasms fire at random in my legs and my belly. I lose breath control as gasps and unintelligible groans utter forth. Nature's light show beyond the window was a perfect natural soundtrack to the glorious wave of goosebumps cascading and criss-crossing my body as I collapsed down onto Marc. I may or may not have lost consciousness.

I opened my eyes, utterly spent from physical exhaustion but safely encased in Marc's arms with our legs intertwined. I totally understand the after-sex cigarette cliche now. I've never wanted one like I do right now. I'm not really a smoker but will have one now and then with my girlfriends when it fits the party vibe. It's more of an accessory than anything else, and a way to weed out guys trying to get in my pants. If some pretentious asshole will write me off for having an occasional cigarette, fuck him. That said, I was embarrassed that Marc saw me by the space heaters; but he obviously didn't seem to mind.

His eyes were open too, gazing out of his window where the storm had passed through; but residual lightning flashes still illuminated in the distance, reflecting across a light blanket of snow. He kissed my forehead.

It was over. Time to go home. Moments like these are why you move out of your parent's house. It was still too early to be a walk of shame. However, try as I might to put myself back together, my makeup, hair and weak stride would scream 'just laid' to anyone who saw me.

Marc craned his neck toward the bedside clock; it wasn't even midnight yet. "You shouldn't get out in this. Why don't you stay here; at least until the plows can get out."

I kissed his chest and fell asleep.

*Marc*

I lay awake watching out the window as dawn was breaking in the distance. The north wind blew across the windows of my high floor, putting an exclamation point on how comfortable I was wrapped in my comforter next to another warm body. I reflected on the past year and took a mental inventory of the women I'd 'dated,' including the one presently sleep-farting next to me. They weren't obscene, just cute, soft little pops reminding me she was human and not the animated sex doll I treated her like last night.

Of all I've dated, this was the first time anyone had spent an entire night, even if it was out of safety. I had no reason to feel guilty about my hookup with Married Christine; she withheld that nugget until after it was over. Gracie is like a carnival ride, pure recreational fucking, and maybe my favorite. She has her kinks and I love what she likes me to do to her. There were several unremarkable randoms too, one of which was a woman in her mid-thirties visiting town on a girls' trip. She swore she wasn't married but I wasn't so sure I believed her and deliberately avoided looking for any tan lines on her finger.

These thoughts reminded me of the reality that I'm in my thirties now. All the bullshit I've heard from my friends about having a soulmate to enjoy life with was sinking in. Your options become progressively limited as you journey through your thirties. I have to face the reality that most women I'm interested in are like Christine - already taken. Or worse, divorced and damaged. Single, never-been-married women in their thirties come in three varieties: hyperfocused on their career, desperate and single for a reason, or to be rude - utterly undatable. Lindsey will make a perfect wife for someone - once she gets it all out of her system. She's adorable and the gap between us is more about maturity than age. She has some growing up to do; maybe time will tell if we're compatible long term. Enough of this internal dialogue. I need to get up and start the coffee I promised my lover.

*Lindsey*

Okay, now it'll be a walk of shame. I had workout clothes in my gym bag but that's not much help right now.

"God, I'm a mess," I said out loud as I roused from the bed, pulling on the bathrobe Marc laid out for me and gingerly walked to the bathroom. A single comment about the bag in my car was enough for Marc to graciously take my keys and get it for me.

Marc set out a fresh towel and washcloth for me along with a spare toothbrush still in the package.

Breakfast was on the table by the time I emerged from the bathroom in clothes I'd normally exercise in; right, I just had the workout of my life.

Marc joined me on the couch after cleaning up our breakfast dishes. He pulled a throw blanket over me and pulled my feet into his lap while we looked for signs of snow plows in the streets below. He may have abused my body for hours overnight but this man knows how to treat a lady. No wonder he can get any woman he wants. His extensive aftercare made me want to jump him but my body was too sore. I'd love to give him a going away treat but didn't even think my sore jaws could handle that. Let me just sip my coffee and enjoy the moment.