Every story has a beginning; this story, as the title suggests, is about the Newlin's, Mark and Marcie. But to tell it properly we need begin before they actually meet. We'll start with Mark, just prior to his Senior Prom and introduce Marcie as she enters college. We will continue alternating their sexual adventures this way until they meet, date, get married and thereafter. It should be a long story.
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The Beginning – Mark Newlin
It was May, 1991, and Mark Newlin had been dating Fay Morgenstern for two weeks now without getting to first base.
Fay was a pretty girl and knew it, with a devastating ass, great legs and a beginning to blossom pair of young tits. The Senior Prom loomed ahead and Mark had procrastinated over a month over asking her or not going. Finances were one problem; the other was that she had fought him off every time he attempted to feel her up. This included the night when on a double-date with Nick and Debby, he had only managed a few almost chaste kisses while Debby giddily blew Nick in the backseat.
But he had, after managing to earn a minor windfall simonizing cars on week nights and weekends. Mark was confused when he received a written invitation to have dinner at Fay's home the night before the Prom. Fay hadn't mentioned it at school, nor on their last date the night he'd asked her to the Prom.
Mark was still a virgin at eighteen and not all that confident in his ability to deal with women; especially one like Fay. He considered this night special and took great pains in his personal appearance; he always had, but lingered at the mirror while shaving this time to make certain every last follicle was trimmed off and that his face was baby-ass smooth.
He decided on slacks over his usual summer shorts and wore a new sports shirt. His mother stopped him before he left to tell him that he had never looked more handsome than he did just then.
Mark rang the bell to Fay's house at exactly the right time and was surprised to find it answered by Fay's mother, Rita Morgenstern and not Fay herself.
"Oh, hello there Mark," Mrs. Morgenstern said as he stood in her doorway, "Well you're right on time. I like that in a young man. It's a very good sign."
"Thank you, Mrs. Morgenstern, he said, handing her the flowers he'd brought for Fay, but unsure what the proper procedure was in handing off flowers and figured Fay's Mom would know.
Mrs. Morgenstern wore a cardigan sweater that barely contained her ample cleavage. The lacy edge of a black brassiere was visible; and hers was most certainly a well-filled bra. As she absentmindedly nibbled the long strand of pearls that she always wore, Mark licked his lips, his throat having suddenly gone dry. Mrs. Morgenstern always reminded him of a mature version of one of those buxom goddesses in the prints in his Art History textbook.
"Why thank you, Mark. I'm certain Fay will be both surprised and pleased. I'll put them in a vase and add some water in a minute."
Mark was relieved that he'd handled the flower hand-off properly and stepped inside. Of course he had been in their living room on two previous occasions to pick Fay up on a date.
"Um, where's Fay?" he inquired as he nervously ran a finger around his collar although it was loose and certainly not constrictive at all.
"Oh, what's the matter with me?" Mrs. Morgenstern said, pretending to be flustered and waving the flowers about as she ignored his question.
"Oh, do sit down while I find a vase for these lovely flowers, Mark." And she left the room leaving Mark no choice but to sit down.
Mark glanced at the framed picture on Mrs. Morgenstern's desk; young, eighteen-year-old Fay Morgenstern in her cheerleader uniform, with her skirt riding up as she leaped in the air, revealing her world class ass to the camera for the world to see. Maybe I'll get to touch that ass and more Prom night, he thought and blushed at what he'd been thinking. Whoa, dude, this is Mrs. Morgenstern's daughter you're thinking about here, he reminded himself.
Mrs. Morgenstern returned shortly, and to Mark's surprise, joined him on the sofa, sitting at the opposite end, but facing him. Before she spoke, she smiled at him and let several seconds pass.
She's changed her clothes! Mark told himself. Gone was the cardigan sweater and skirt. Now Mrs. Morgenstern wore black pumps and black leotards under a sexy summery dress that from certain angles revealed generous amounts of breast. Was she wearing a bra? He wondered, before deciding she was not and she was definitely better proportioned than her daughter. Plus was it his imagination or did she seem hot to trot?
It must have been the pearls that did it. Mrs. Morgenstern always wore them wrapped about her throat three times like a kind of a choker, with the rest of the long strand nestled between her full mounds like a puddle of shiny white liquid. Mrs. Morgenstern was a woman in every sense of the word. A brunette of average height, somewhere in her middle forties, she was still a knock-out; and like her daughter, she had a great body. But hers was much better developed.
Mrs. Morgenstern leaned toward him, "I found the perfect vase for the flowers. Fay will just love them. I don't think anyone's ever brought her flowers before."
Mrs. Morgenstern began her pre-planned assault on the young virgin quickly by assaying: "You think my Fay is a virgin?"
"Isn't she?" he gasped, not thinking to answer any other way.
"Of course not," Mrs. Morgenstern said, her skirt had ridden up a bit exposing a great deal of thigh. Mark pretended not to notice and concentrated on what Fay's mother had just said. When he looked at her he saw she had a curious expression on her face.
"What?"
Her eyes narrowed and her lips twisted thoughtfully. Finally, she asked, "Are you gay?"
"No," he said, completely unoffended. It was not the first time that question had been asked of him.
"Didn't think so," Mrs. Morgenstern said, patting the cushion next to her. "Come closer; sit beside me." Mark moved in next to her and tried to look relaxed but every nerve in his body was jangling and his body felt stiff as a board. Mrs. Morgenstern didn't seem to notice. Instead she rubbed at a mark on her dress before turning and looking at him. It wasn't long before he began to wither under her stare.
"What?" he asked again, afraid she had noticed his right ear lobe was slightly larger than his left. She shook her head; there was a frown on her face. "You're not like other guys, are you?"
"No, I suppose not."
She nodded, absently picking at the scuff mark. "I thought you might like to see some pictures we've taken of our Fay. Would you, like that, Mark?"
"Um, yes, yes of course!" he replied innocently.
Mrs. Morgenstern leaned over providing him with a formidable view of her bosom as she reached for a photo album on the coffee table without rising as most people would have.
"Now here she is trying out for the gymnast team. Doesn't she just look darling?"
What Mark saw was Fay in a leotard so tight around her crotch that her camel toe was stark in its revelation to his eyes.