Mirror Marlene: The Crackpot Scheme
"Oh, my God!" Rucker said admiringly. "Marlene Collier, you look beautiful."
I stood at the doorway of the guest room in the large house that Jeremy Collier built wearing one of my husband's starched long sleeved dress shirts, and looked at the naked black man on the bed. He was certainly not my husband. For the few seconds prior to finally deciding to remove my shirt wrap, I stared down at the scarred young African American man who lay on the bed in that dainty room designed to house mother-in-laws and maiden aunts. My black lover looked totally out of place in that room, and I reveled in the whole idea!
At first I'd thought that since he'd been staring at the wall, Rucker hadn't noticed me standing there at the doorway. But I soon realized that he was looking up at my reflection via the large mirror mounted on the antique dresser. Rucker was devouring Mirror Marlene's image with his eyes.
Totally, beautifully naked under her own dress shirt, Mirror Marlene stood teasing him in the mirror doorway framed by the light from the hallway playing with her mirror buttons. Petite in his eyes, she was hardly an inch or so over the five foot mark, but Mirror Marlene had a genuine crass sensuality--an intriguing combination of sleek shoulders and large breasts adorning a real woman's torso and abdomen.
Nude, illuminated only by the dim light down the hall, Mirror Marlene continued to tantalize Rucker from her spot by the mirror doorjamb. Rucker stared at the way her smooth body curved and shimmered in the shifting light for a while. Atop her head, Mirror Marlene's blonde hair was carefully colored and highlighted by a high priced beautician. Underneath her belly there was more of a natural darkness to the curling hair between her thighs.
Since Rucker knew subconsciously that he could never have Mirror Marlene, he turned his eyes back toward me. "Marlene, aren't you coming to bed?"
So that was his real scheme. No matter how hard he tried, Rucker would never be able to get Mirror Marlene to climb into bed with him, in the end he'd have to settle for taking me instead. Not that I minded in the least. Making love to Rucker was probably the highlight of my previously lackluster sex life.
"Yes, love." Slowly I stepped into the guest room and slowly removed my husband's white dress shirt, but still I refrained from walking those last few feet toward the bed. "In a minute."
"Is something the matter, Marlene? You seem pretty far away."
"I'm fine." I remained standing a few feet away. "Just thinking of some of the things that have happened to me recently."
A week or so earlier I happened to find the opportunity to scan Rucker's personal journal: "I have a little psychological quirk which I call my Ma Petite Syndrome," Rucker wrote. "I contract it whenever I get a good look at those exquisite feminine creatures who inhabit the world of everyday business. You've seen ma petite. You can find her downtown outside those tall office buildings or maybe at the mall on the weekend. She's generally blond, blue-eyed, stands about five foot one inch tall and weighs maybe one-hundred and three pounds soaking wet. Of course, Ma petite is never less than perfectly coiffed, impeccably dressed, and immaculately made-up; so, finding someone like her soaking wet seems totally out of the question. But I love to look for her--for all of them. I long dreamed of holding her diminutive perfection close to me and freely indulging in every man's sexual fantasy.
"In todays world, ma petite is usually in her thirties or better, women of my own age often tend to be well nourished, athletic, and statuesque, and, while Amazons like that may be perfect for the jocks of my generation, my own preferences run toward the dainty fantasy of the woman who needs four inch high heels to reach five foot three.
"Like I said before," Rucker added. "Ma petite is my hangup. What I hadn't expected to find is that ma petite now lives close to me in the form of a stunningly sexy forty-one year old woman."
I smiled and sighed. Half the age of my husband, Rucker was twice the romantic.
Flashback--That first morning at the hotel:
"Did you want me to call down and order up breakfast?" I murmured at first light of morning.
"I don't know. How are you feeling?" Rucker had asked me when we awoke at the motel at about five oclock the morning after that first night together.
"Sore and tired," I said at first. "Frightened. Happy. Probably a thousand other emotions which are running at breakneck speed through my mind."
"Does that mean you want me to make love to you again?"
I stayed quiet for a long time. Yesterday and last night were a long way away. I'd even sobered up from my birthday bash. Did I really intend to go through all that again?
"Marlene?"
"Hmm?"
"Can we fuck again, ma petite?"
"It sounds so quaint to hear you use that term on me," I replied.
"It fits you. C'mon, answer my question, ma petite, wouldn't you like me to fuck you again?"
"Yes," I replied. "I think I'd like that." Christ, what did I just say?
"Good! You are the most wonderful thing ever to happen to me in my life."
Could you believe that? What a story teller he was.
The intense stare from Rucker's dark eyes made me shiver and I felt my nipples harden. As my nipples became more and more aroused, I remembered that I'd covered myself with the bedsheet. Rucker noticed and his trance-like stare seemed as if it might burn a hole through the sheet. His easy smile and knowing look caused my heated emotions to ooze straight down to my loins and that made a large damp spot on the white bedsheet. What the hell--the hotel had maid service!
I bent my lips down low over his face to find his lips. I took his face into my hands right at his jawline and brought my lips right down to his disfiguring scars. Suddenly, we were all warm and wet and eagerly exploring each other's mouths. Our kiss was an accurate expression of what had happened between the two of us the night before. I think Rucker was taken by surprise by such a arousing kiss! I could tell he was stimulated by his now bulging crotch. What a startling reminder of the gentle ardor of our closeness and the mesmerizing dalliances of the times we'd shared yesterday. I suddenly realized that we were wasting time.
"Forget breakfast," I declared. "Lets fuck."
"I like your style, Marlene." I disappeared under the covers, feeling my way down his stomach and hips with adept warm fingers.
"Hey," he chuckled. "Theres no need to hurry."
I'd put my own concerns aside as I began to take on the novel role as Rucker's lover. My :fingers slowly slid down his flat belly until they lit upon his partially erected cock. For a few moments I toyed with my long new plaything until Rucker moaned. Then, throwing the covers off, I slowly rimmed the knobby glans of his penis with my warm tongue until I sensed that the time was right to take the end of his manhood between insistant lips. Alternately licking and dipping my mouth down around his glistening black-skinned cock, I continued to ply at Ruckers masculine organ with my lips, tongue and teeth. In a short time Rucker became incredibly strong and hard.
Next, I squirmed out from under the covers. Reversing the traditional male dominant position, I slowly extended my new African American partner the most enveloping hospitality that a woman can offer. I began to guide Rucker's erection on a very private tour of my body.
"Ma petite," Rucker whispered as he drew me down top of him on the bed. "Will you stay with me?"
"Mmm," I moaned. "For as long as it takes."
Sheathing the length and breadth of his dark cock within my warm yearning cunt, our mutual longing swelled and stretched my own private tissues to their fullest. When I was certain that I had him lodged safely within, I coaxed him to move within me--very slowly. Totally involved in the lesson now, I urged Rucker to match his rhythm to my own. Soon we increased our lusty energy as deeply as the force of his thrusting.
"No. I mean stay with me," he said. "For real."
I murmured that I needed to have him one more time today, but I couldnt speak for the future--for our future. Then, although we were silent for many minutes, our bodies negotiated in a profound communication. We tried not to hurry. But even with as quiet and gentle a lover as Rucker became, everything went much too fast.
Rucker swung up and reversed our position, spilling me down onto the mattress.
As he kissed me, my legs spread wide apart, my hips swung upward to allow free access to his straddling body, and my loins opened up to his fierce erection. Once again his long blunt strength pushed in deep inside of me. Once again he became a part of me. Rucker lingered marvelously within me, pulsing in and out faster and faster while his erected hardness stiffened even more as my warm wet sheathing cunt caressed and engulfed him in fleshbound excitement. He kept up his prodding motion until neither of us could hold back our need for release from his probing demands.
Yearning for release, I quaked and shuddered a loud moan in Rucker's ear. As I came, I felt my body's wet juices surge forth like a warm spring.
Rucker gasped over me, and suddenly he climaxed. Hot liquid sprayed out from his extended spigot, spurting and splashing heated lotion deep inside of me in the pure luxury of shared intimacy--shared wetness--shared loving. The long and lusty pooling of our juices together drenched the motel sheets and comforter.
Rucker slowly withdrew his still semi-rigid black penis from my pussy, and gobs of his milky white semen spilled onto my thighs, and slid down the crack of my ass onto the bed. I felt like a pedigreed bitch who'd just been bred by the young new champion in order to propagate a prized litter.
As if to accentuate my trepidation, Rucker said: "I am so thrilled to be there so deep inside you, Marlene. I've dreamed that together weve conceived a new life."
