Men in Her Life

This is the fourth of six chapters. A new man in Marva's life means she must make a choice. This is a long story, broken down into six chapters. If you would like to read the other chapters, click on my ID above. Enjoy, 2Xwidderwoman

*

The next date Marva has with Richard, he suggests they go to his apartment after dinner, but Marva reminds him that she had said she would really like an early night. He kisses her gently and tells her goodnight. When she gets home, Karen has left a note that she is spending the night with Cynthia. Marva opens her cell phone and looks through the directory, finding the number she wants, but closes the phone and puts it back in her bag.

Ten minutes later, she makes the call, "Charles?"

"If you aren't over here in my bed in the next ten minutes, I'm coming over there and break down your door."

It takes her more than ten minutes, even though she drives faster than she should. The garage door is open and Charles is standing inside the garage door, pulling her out of the car and almost carrying her into the house, undressing her and he lands between her knees as she is falling onto the bed. "Dammit Marva, it has been over three weeks since I fucked you and I'm not letting you out of this bed until you explain what took you so damn long to call."

And then he will not let her explain. Even when he is lying beside her panting, he will not allow her to explain. "Don't give me that shit. Roll over so I can taste you. I woke up last week and could not remember what your pussy tastes like and it frightened the hell out of me."

"Charles, slow down."

"NO! I need this. I told you it's an obsession. Why would a god make such wonderful tasting woman and not allow a man to have them any time we want them. Now be still."

When he has temporarily satisfied his hunger, so he says, he asks, "Has that man asked you to marry him yet?"

"Almost," she answers.

Bounding to his feet, he throws his hands in the air and leans over her. "WHAT THE HELL KIND OF AN ANSWER IS THAT." He is in a rage of temper, worse than she has ever seen him. "EITHER, HE HAS ASKED, OR HE HASN'T."

"ALRIGHT THEN," she sits up and yells back at him. "HE HAS NOT ASKED. ARE YOU SATISFIED?"

In a normal voice he says, "Okay, okay. I just want you to talk to me. I'm calm now."

Patiently, Marva says, "Charles, I'm sorry. I don't know what to do. I need some help."

"Well hell, I'm not going to help you with your love life. I'm your fuck buddy, not Dear Abby," he says stomping into the bathroom. "Get your ass in here and empty your bladder. How many times do I have to tell you about that?"

"Charles, I need help ...." She reminds him.

He jerks his head around to look at her, almost missing the toilet with his stream of urine. "I told you, I am not going to help you with your love life," he growls.

"Then quit interrupting me and I'll tell you what I want," she demands, sitting down to pee. "I think Karen is going to ask Cynthia to move in and I don't know if I want to stay there. I'm not sure I can afford to live by myself, and I don't think I want another room mate. Karen and I do fine, because we don't interfere in each other's lives. I just don't think I would have that kind of freedom with someone else."

"Part of this is about me, isn't it?" He asks, already knowing what the problem is.

Marva nods, "Yes, part of it is about you. But I know, as soon as I mention it to Richard, he's going to propose and I'm not ready for that."

"I'll find you an apartment and pay half the rent," he offers.

"NO!" She turns to him, fire glinting in her eyes, as she stands stiffly her hands at her side, clenched into fists.

"Gol-lee, take it easy" he holds up his hands as if to ward off a blow. "It's just a suggestion."

"Well, it's a stupid suggestion," she says, walking past him, looking for her clothes.

He chuckles, "Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

"And you don't have to laugh about it. I am very serious about this. I do not need this complication. I have Bryan's wedding, a new girl to train, all this Karen and Cynthia relationship, plus Richard. I'd escape, if I had somewhere to go."

He steps to her and puts his arms around her. "Oh, my poor baby, I don't know what help I could be."

She shoves him, hard. "Don't patronize me. I'm having a temper tantrum. Just let me get it out of my system."

He lowers his arms and bends to look in her face, "Does Richard know that you have these tantrums?"

"Oh heavens, no, it would probably frighten him to death." She stops talking, sits down hard on the side of the bed, and says, "Oh shit."

"Yeah, I think so too," he says, sitting beside her. "What are you going to do now?"

Marva shakes her head, "I don't know. I really don't know." She throws one shoe into the corner of the room, watching it bounce off the wall. It is the same corner where Charles threw their clothes the first time he took her to bed. It feels so good she throws the other shoe into the same corner, falls back on the bed, rolls over and starts sobbing.

Charles stands, goes into the bathroom, returning with a handful of tissues, and puts them in her hands, picks up his shorts, and leaves the bedroom.

When Marva walks into the kitchen, she is dressed. She is no longer crying, but her eyes are red and her nose is too. Charles points to one of the kitchen chairs and commands, "Sit. Don't talk or argue with me, just sit down."

When she has done as he said, he places a cup of coffee in front of her and takes the seat where he usually sits. They sit quietly, for a little while, drinking their coffee, occasionally looking at each other, but unsure what to say, or even if they should say anything.

"Marva," he begins. "I don't know how to tell you this, but you are not going to be satisfied with a simple man. You cannot marry Richard."

"I know. I figured that out. But I don't know anyone else who will put up with me," she says miserably.

"Tell me why you think you need to get married."

"Oh. Well, I guess ... well, I think, partly because ... but, maybe I don't..."

"See?" He tells her. "You don't really know, do you?"

She shakes her head. She doesn't like her answer, either. "I guess not."

"If you like him that much and he is good in bed, I mean if he can fuck your brains out, and make you cum until you can't breathe. That's no reason you have to marry him."

"I know."

"Baby, you have at least ten, or maybe fifteen years before you need to start a family. Give yourself time to find a man that really suits you. Don't take on one who won't make you happy and leave you with a couple of children you have to raise on your own."

She looks at him and asks, "You think that would happen? I mean, I don't want to raise children without them having a father."

He nods at her, "Yes, I do think that would happen, and you do too. This single parent stuff is not easy. You can look around. Few single women have happy kids. You would have to work and you know how hard it is, just to support yourself. Imagine what it would take if you had children, or even just one child. And I know you. You are going to want at least three."

She nods her head, looking at him and smiling.

Charles looks at her, almost stops breathing, and fears his heart has skipped a beat. He forces himself to look away, stands and says, "Come on. I'll take you back to bed. I've not had my fill of you yet and you don't have to work in the morning."

- - -

When Marva leaves Charles's house, she does not go home. As soon as she clears his driveway, she calls Richard and asks if she can come by his apartment for a few minutes. She needs to talk to him. He gives her a strange look when he opens the door, noticing she is still wearing the clothes she had on the night before.

As soon as he closes the door, she says, "Richard, you are not going to like me very much. But I need to tell you a few things about me."

"Would you like to go sit down? I have coffee," he offers, "Or would you like a soft drink?"

"No, thank you. I don't care for anything and I don't think I want to sit down either." It takes her just a few sentences to say what she came to say. She does not beat around the bush, she is straightforward and honest. He is a gentle caring man and she is a termagant, a quarrelsome, scolding, shrew. He is a wonderful lover, but she is a wild, exotic, enticing woman with an appetite that most men cannot satisfy. She paces into his living room and returns, her arms waving and her eyes flashing as she describes what she expects from a man. He leans against the entry hall watching this woman use gutter language that makes him blush. She apologizes for leading him on, but is just discovering a few things about herself and is very glad she has not caused him any irreparable harm. When she finishes talking, she walks to him, puts her hands on his face and kisses him, grinds her pelvis into him, and leaves him breathless in her wake. It is a full minute after his door closes before he can see straight. And he cannot believe he had that woman in his bed and did not take advantage of the opportunity few men have to be absorbed by such an exciting woman. He groans, knowing he could not handle a woman like her, and it brings tears to his eyes.

Marva goes home and takes a shower, wanders around the apartment for a while and thinks about what she has just done. She finally takes her largest suitcase out of the closet and packs enough clothes for two weeks, and fills her cosmetic bag with everything she thinks she will need for that amount of time. Although it is a struggle, she gets the suitcase down the hall and into the elevator. She fears she has hurt herself getting it into the trunk of her car, but dusts her hands off after closing the trunk lid and goes back upstairs.

When she calls Karen, to say she needs to talk to her, she discovers Karen is on her way home. "Oh great," she says. "Is Cynthia with you?"

"No, she's in her car. She's on her way there, though."

"Wonderful," Marva says. "I need to talk to her, too."

When Karen and Cynthia are sitting down, Marva swears them to secrecy and begins to tell them about her fuck buddy, but will not tell them his name, until it slips out inadvertently. Both girls laugh at her, at first, and then stare open mouthed at how bold Marva has been. They try to commiserate with her about Richard, but she explains there is no need. He understood and is probably glad he will not have to suffer through a broken engagement and all the embarrassment that goes with such a thing, or, heaven forbid, a divorce and possibly child support. As she outlines her plans, they are reluctant, at first, but soon understand that it is not a permanent arrangement, it is simply an experiment and they begin to show a little excitement as they agree to go along with her plans. Cynthia will stay at least one week. If it all works out, for her and Karen, she may even stay the full two weeks.

Marva considers calling her brother, but does not do so. Instead, she asks Karen not to say anything to him, and to let her know if he starts asking lots of questions, so she can swear him to secrecy, too, before explaining what she has done. Bryan's engagement to Elizabeth could create a real problem if this experiment does not work out well.

Walking out the door of the apartment she opens her cell phone and makes her telephone call.

"Do you get a hard-on when you hear my voice?"

"Good god, woman. Are you insatiable?" He asks, chuckling and telling her, "I just put dry sheets on the bed."

"Can I come see you?" It is the boldest question she has ever asked another human being in her whole life.

"Oh yes, please," he answers. "Spend another night with me and I'll even fix breakfast for you."

"After that, what do you plan to feed me for supper?" Her voice is serious. This is not a laughing matter, nor is it something she can tease him about.

His voice is just as serious as her own, "Mercy woman, if I get that much of your time, I'll feed you anything you want and half of my cock, too."

"Ten minutes," she says and folds her phone, putting it in her pocket.

He is just opening the garage door, when Marva drives into his driveway. When she steps out of her car, she does not say a word, but walks straight into the house, going all the way back to the bedroom, and starts removing her clothes. He stands in the garage for at least half a minute before he moves. She did not smile at him and did not even stop to kiss him. She is up to something and he is concerned that she is going to explode again.

He takes a full minute to find her. She is sitting, naked in the middle of his bed, with the bed covers pooled around her hips. When she looks up to see him standing in the doorway, she holds her arms out to him, "Charles, fuck me," she says. It is the words he has asked her to say before, but before this, she would not say it so boldly.

He leans against the door facing and looks at her. He thinks about it for a long minute, but he cannot resist and is soon removing his clothes and doing exactly as she asked. It is at least two hours before either of them can think about anything but what they find in each other's arms.

After she has dutifully emptied her bladder and watched him do the same and moved back against him when he is back in bed with her, she asks, "Charles how big a gamble are you willing to take that you will either drive me away forever, or never let me leave you."

Believing she is serious, he answers seriously, "I'm not sure. Are you giving me an ultimatum?"

"No, I think I'm giving you a choice, but there may be other options, too."

"Did you go see Richard?" He asks, believing he knows the answer, but still wanting to make sure.

"Yes, I did," she answers. "I think he was a little disappointed that he did not know what he had. But I believe he understood. He is a very nice man. I really like him, but I cannot love him."

"Humph," is his wordless response.

"I also had a talk with Karen and Cynthia. Cynthia is going to move in and stay with Karen for a couple of weeks, while I'm gone."

"Gone? Where are you going?" He asks, surprised because she has not mentioned a trip.

Marva rolls over and smiles at him, "I'm going to live with you for two weeks."

"Oh no, you're not."

"Yes, I am," she announces. "We had three nights together. We did not fight, we got along well, we enjoyed each other, and I think you even had a good time. But it was nothing like being on familiar territory, doing ordinary things, and having someone else around. We don't know that we can or cannot get along with each other, under normal everyday circumstances."

"Marva, I'm a bear" he tries to explain. "I'm difficult to be around at times. I'm dictatorial. I work long crazy hours. I leave some mornings before daylight and drag my ass back home, long after dark. There are days when I never leave the house. I fire my secretary at least once a week. She's older than my mother, flips me the finger, and then goes and does what she knows to do and stays out of my way until I'm in a better mood. I'm particular about a lot of things and sometimes I'm downright ornery."

"I know. That doesn't mean you won't try. You tolerate my tantrums. You let me cry without feeling guilty, which is a great compliment to any man. You don't make me talk when I want to be quiet. And mercy, you make love to me like no man has ever tried to do for me before. When you touch me, I shiver with expectation. I get wet when I hear your voice. You send me into a delirium of ecstasy that leaves me senseless and throbbing."

He kisses her and holds her, but for only a moment. "You do the same to me and I did not have to tell you that. You already know it. But that does not mean we can live together. You need a man."

"You're a man. Please, let's try it."

"You want children."

"You said I have ten to fifteen years before I need to even think about that."

"You need a home."

"No, I need to be around you long enough to find out if there is anything more for us than what's on this bed."

"Oh my, you are one tempting morsel. Have I ever told you that you are beautiful? I see this skin and it's so delicate I fear I'll mar it with my brutality. I hold this hand and worry I'll hurt you if I hold you as I want to. I want you so badly sometimes, that I fear I will crush you with my exuberance. I bruised you and I wanted to cry. Baby, don't let me hurt you, ever again, please."

Surprised, she asks, "Charles, are you afraid of me?"

"God have mercy, yes. There is a hunger inside me that only you have ever been able to fill. I tremble with fear, when I think another man will take you away from me. This relationship with Richard frightened me. I yell at you and I holler at you, thinking I can drive you away and then I clutch you back, afraid you will get so far away from me that I cannot find you and bring you back."

"Then please, let's try it?" She asks, trying to avoid pleading or begging. It is a simple request, "If you don't want me to stay two weeks, let's at least try it for one week. Go get my suitcase out of the trunk of my car and put it in the bedroom across the hall. I'll be here, but I won't be invading your spaces." She stops talking for a moment watching his face. He wants it, she knows he does, he is just resisting because he is afraid, too.

"Be honest with me, so I can be honest with you," she says. "If I touch something you don't want me to touch, tell me. If I cook something you don't like, let me know what you do like and I'll try to make it the way you want it. I'm not asking for anything you don't want to do anyway. You're just as afraid of me as I am of you. But I trust you."

"Alright dammit, alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." He stands, and naked as the day he was born, walks across the room, going out of the bedroom. She hears the kitchen door slam a moment later. She is standing in the middle of the hall when he returns carrying her suitcase in one hand and her keyboard in the other. She did not think about the keyboard being in the trunk. She walks to him and takes the long narrow bag out of his hand and stands holding it while he tosses her suitcase on the guest room bed.

"What the hell is that?" He asks looking at the bag she holds in front of her thighs.

"It's my keyboard," she answers easily.

He holds his hands in front of him as if typing on an imaginary typewriter and asks, "Keyboard?"

Marva nods, but corrects him, "Piano, I forgot it was in the trunk. I'll take it back out to the car." She does not manage to walk past him, without him grabbing the bag. He points to his bedroom and she turns, going back into the room with him following, carrying the bag.

"Show me," he orders, as he places the bag on the bed. She walks to the bed, turns the bag right-side-up and unzips the wrap around zipper, pulls the electrical cord out, and holds it toward him. He shrugs his shoulders, takes the cord and plugs it into an electrical socket beside the bed and stands with his arms crossed, as if he is waiting for his command performance.

Marva climbs onto the bed, sits Indian style and touches one key. Charles smiles and climbs onto the bed behind her, wrapping himself around her and begs, "Please play something on that thing so I'll know I'm not dreaming."

Not quite understanding exactly what his problem is, she touches a few buttons and begins to play something from memory, as his chin comes to rest on her shoulder and his arms go around her, holding him to her.

"Music hath charms to soothe a savage beast," he whispers in her ear.

She corrects him, "Breast, not beast, its breast. "Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak." It's a quotation from the opening scene, Act I, Scene 1, of The Mourning Bride, by William Congreve," she tells him.