Incendiary Circumstances

On Monday, Marie had hoped that Dave would be gone by the time she appeared in the kitchen with her hair in a bun. Perhaps he wouldn't notice she hoped as she hurried to get out the door. No such luck.

"I haven't seen you wear your hair like that since...I can't remember."

"The Anderson wedding," Marie offered helpfully, hoping that her own sharp memory would convince her husband that just because his memory of her various hair stylings was incomplete at best, it didn't make it all that infrequent.

"Oh yeah, I remember that. Remember that movie we watched where the guy wanted the girl to put her hair up so he could..."

"No, babe, I don't. Gotta go, see you tonight."

"Remember I wanted you to wear one so I could hold onto it while you..."

Crap!

Marie thought as she departed to Dave's voice trailing after her. The guy couldn't remember what color underwear he had on but he knew every fucking scene of every fucking porn movie they'd ever fucking watched.

The day went nothing like Marie had expected. Blaine didn't even mention her hair do. In fact, they spoke of little but work all day. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps Blaine hadn't asked for the bun for sexual reasons. Perhaps he didn't even remember asking her to wear her hair that way at all. Still, he'd been very specific.

At the end of the day, rather than kneeling in their room with Blaine clutching her bun and driving his cock into her throat, Marie found herself standing next a completely filthy young man who'd spent the final hour of the first day of their last week rummaging around dust coated cartons that hadn't had a human touch them in decades.

Fuck,

Marie thought disappointedly,

this is less than romantic. This is disgusting.

"Why did you want me to wear my hair like this?" Marie asked, determined to move things along and wondering if he asked her to blow him in "as is" condition she'd do it anyway.

"Your hair?" Blaine asked.

"Yes my hair," Marie fumed. "On Saturday, you asked me to wear it like this."

"I did? Oh that's right, I did. I wonder why I said that?"

Are you fucking kidding me?

Marie wanted to scream at him.

You fucking forgot?

Was Blaine teasing her Marie wondered. Yanking her chain? Ready to shout

Surprise! Of course I remember. Everybody knows why a guy asks a girl to wear her hair in a bun.

"Christ!" Blaine spat as he tried to dust himself off. "I need a fucking shower."

"Blaine, honey," Marie soothed, looking at her watch glumly. It was getting late and all her weekend musings seemed headed for the mountain of unfulfilled fantasies she already constructed about this kid. "It's getting late. Maybe I should just drive you home now and you can clean up."

"Yeah, maybe..." Blaine responded, continuing to battle the dusty grime covering his clothes and him. He'd slipped off his tee shirt and was beating it against his jeans like a colonial wife giving her rugs their ritualistic spring thrashing. To Marie, it looked like the dust of one garment was just being exchanged with that of the other.

"There used to be..." Blaine continued hesitantly, walking down a hallway as Marie followed. "Yes! It's still here!" Blaine said triumphantly.

He opened a door and both were standing in a small room with a half a dozen or so lockers in it. "The coaches used to shower here and sometimes they let us team captains use it too."

There was a desk with a few threadbare towels folded and stacked on it. Blaine kicked off his shoes and socks before grabbing one of the towels. He turned his back to Marie and lowered his jeans. Today he wore no underwear, just gorgeous charcoal colored skin.

"Would you get my gym bag out of the car?" Blaine asked without looking around at Marie. "I've got some clean workout clothes in it that I can put on afterward."

Had Blaine deliberately left what would precede "afterward" unspecified Marie wondered while she went to the car and he to the shower. Was afterward restricted to just his shower or would there be additional activities between the showering and his donning his clean outfit?

The water was still running when Marie returned. The room was completely tiled except for the ceiling and upper third of the walls. The entrance to the shower was about twice as large as the average doorway and open. Despite how hot it was outside, Marie could see steam billowing from inside.

Marie held Blaine's gym bag in her hand as she stood in the outer office area while he showered.

He can't be that dirty,

she smiled to herself as the shower continued far longer than she'd expected. She was tempted to peek around the corner to see if she could get a look at Blaine's cock. She'd taken two half steps toward the opening when the water stopped

She'd backed up a few steps by the time Blaine rounded the corner rubbing a towel across his closely cropped hair. To Marie's disappointment, he wasn't naked. There was a somewhat small rectangle of terry cloth surrounding his waist, draping down almost to his knees. Circumstances had conspired yet again to require that she continue to imagine his penis, an object that had consumed so much of her thinking that summer.

If truth were known, she'd probably not spent as much elapsed time in her life considering a single male appendage as much as she had Blaine's. Not any of her schoolgirl boyfriends, nor anyone she'd seen in porn movies, nor Andre's whose she'd spent years masturbating over, not even her own husband's. If truth were known, she'd probably not spent as much time contemplating all those other cocks combined as she had Blaine's that summer.

The towel around Blaine's waist was knotted at his side and his bare hip showed. The front was slightly tented by a pole that lay in repose a couple of inches short of the bottom of the towel. Marie couldn't take her eyes off that tent. She'd "seen" it before of course, bulging in Blaine's jeans, straining at the denim, causing the young man such pain he'd had to turn around and rip down his pants.

This was different, though. Blaine, it, his cock, was far less contained by that towel than it had been by his Wranglers. That towel was secured by a single knot. At any moment that knot could fail sending the white rectangle tumbling to the floor. Marie stared at the front of that towel and, as she stared, she swore she saw it move.

After a minute or so, there was no doubt in Marie's mind. Blaine's cock, hidden by that towel, was getting bigger. It was pushing outward and upward and the result was as incredible as it was undeniable. The bottom of the towel was rising as it was pushing away from Blaine's body.

The towel was still hanging predominantly downward and Marie could see that whatever was elevating it was already perhaps double her husband's equipment. There was nothing Dave could have done save place an extension on his penis that would have moved the towel as far as Blaine had already done and he seemed to have a long way to go yet.

As the towel moved away from Blaine's groin and rose from the floor, Marie could see that single knot on Blaine's hip becoming even more tested, more strained. The towel parted farther exposing Blaine's black hip to Marie's eager eyes. She felt her mouth water and swallowed to drain it. She wasn't aware that she had licked at her lips several times but Blaine was.

The towel pushed up and the knot stretched. The white cloth, twisted and folded into a tenuous clasp, moved, sliding and jumping small distances pushed outward by the continuously expanding organ probing the fabric covering it.

Despite the creeping movement toward an inevitable conclusion, the end came quite suddenly. Marie gasped audibly when the knot gave way and the towel shot outward and upward but not off. The cock bounced up and down four or five times taking the damp white terry cloth with it.

Marie's mouth hung open as the true length and girth of the phallus became clear to her. That a hard on that big could support a wet towel and still stand straight out from a man's body astounded her. She had become used to her husband's partial erections that couldn't support even its own weight let alone a hefty, wet towel hanging over the end of it.

"Put the bag down, Marie," Blaine ordered her, reminding her of a weight in her hand she'd all but forgotten.

Although he didn't tell her, Marie sensed Blaine wanted her by his side once she placed the bag on the floor. She approached cautiously; concerned perhaps that Blaine was some sort of evil magician who had a dangerous animal concealed beneath that towel.

She ran her hand up Blaine's arm and over his shoulder as she stood by his side, staring at the amazingly cantilevered, covered appendage.

"Oh god, Blaine," she gasped, "is that really all you, honey?"

"Do you like it?"

"Of course I like it but you didn't answer the question."

Blaine lifted Marie's head so he could kiss her. It was the first time her eyes had left his cock since he walked out of the shower. She was still standing to the side because the presence of that towel-clad weapon precluded her standing in front of him.

Marie ran her hand over Blaine's chest and abdomen as she caressed his tongue with her own. The hard musculature fired off little shivers, shudders, twinges, and tingles all along her erogenous nervous system. She felt her labia swell even further and her clit began to throb. She even had to clench her sphincter to quell a tickling at her back door.

When the kiss was broken, Marie's eyes immediately went back to the rigid tube extending a full foot from Blaine's groin. The edge of the towel nearest the black youth's pubis had flopped over exposing the first few inches at the base of his cock.

Her palm ventured lower until the side of her hand pushed against the place where she could see that he'd shaved his pubic patch. She swiveled her palm and her fingers pointed down at the partially exposed shaft beckoning her so teasingly. The towel was threadbare in a few places and glints of blackness showed through.

"Touch it if you want to know," Blaine said, answering the question Marie had accused him of avoiding. She let out a little shriek as Blaine made his cock jump just as she was about to touch the white cloth covering it.

"Don't do that," Marie laughed, punching Blaine ineffectively in his stomach. "You don't think I'm terrified enough already without you making it jump?"

Marie touched the top of the towel, moving her fingers along Blaine's cock. It was the first time she'd touched it while also looking at it. Even though there was a terry cloth barrier between her fingertips and Blaine's skin, the feel to that turgid phallus still drove her crazy with lust.

She pushed at the hard tube and watched it sway. She grabbed the two sides of the towel under Blaine's cock and squeezed them tight around the thick dick so the damp towel looked eerily like a white cotton condom. She tugged on the towel pulling the black monster beneath thither and yon.

"You're so fucking big," Marie breathed, looking up at Blaine and smiling, taking her eyes off

It

for just a moment. "Has anyone ever told you that before?" Marie knew the ridiculousness of the question even as she posed it but it was out there, impossible to retrieve, teed up like a big, fat, inflatable golf ball for Blaine to mock, and mock he did, albeit mildly.

"Gee, Marie, I don't think size has ever been discussed before."

"Don't be a..." Marie said then hesitated, realizing she didn't have an end to the sentence when she started it and now floundered to finish. "Well, I'd call you a cunt if you were a woman but that seems singularly inappropriate given this." She gave his cock a squeeze. "And "dick" would probably only egg you on. As you can see, I'm having trouble thinking clearly at the moment and I'm sure you know why. So be nice."

"You know I was only teasing, Marie. I know it's kind of unusual."

"Kind of?"

Blaine took Marie's face in his hands and kissed her. Her entire body shook when she felt his soft, slick tongue slide across he own. From the very beginning his kisses contained a spark that could set her ablaze. They still did.

All the while she sucked at Blaine's mouth, Marie held tightly to the cloth that protected his cock. Now that she actually had it in her possession, nothing was going to take it from her until she experienced it as she wanted. One hand grasped the twisted fabric that held fast to Blaine's cock. Her other hand tried to encircle the shaft about half way between the head and base but she was unable to get more than half way around.

"Kiss it," Blaine told Marie when he'd disengaged his mouth from hers.