Incendiary Circumstances Ch 04

Blaine had felt Marie's tits for the first time, sending her into an outrage...and a sexual frenzy. She struggled, beseeched, and called him names in protest but he'd ignored her and she'd become disturbingly aroused.

After dropping Blaine off the day of the tit touching, Marie went home and began searching for an 8" black plastic dildo her husband had bought her years before. She'd told him it was too big even though it wasn't and they'd put it away after one use. It is one of the sadnesses of a woman that she will sacrifice pleasure for reputation – even with her husband, perhaps especially with her husband.

She didn't even know whether her husband had kept it and began making plans for what object to use as a substitute for the substitute cock should she fail to locate it.

I wonder if I have any cucumbers,

she thought as she headed for her husband's porn trunk, the most likely place it would be.

She smiled excitedly when she saw it there among the old, x-rated videotapes they no longer watched. Their ages, perhaps more Dave's than hers, had conspired against them and their sex lives had been on the wane for several years.

Oh shit,

Marie thought as she hefted the fake cock the size of which only Andre's had ever compared to before,

I can't believe that was ever in me.

After finding the object of her desire and tingling to the thrill of imagining sliding it into her pussy, Marie gave it quick kiss on the head and put it aside to retrieve the tube of lotion she'd spotted at the bottom of the box. Marie slicked up the phony cock. It was going to be only the second time she'd had anything of that size in her cunt and the first time she came so hard she banned it from her life.

That kid is getting to me,

Marie thought when she'd recovered from her afternoon pseudo-fuck and was washing off the black invader. She knew she'd have to be extra cautious with him. She'd even made up her mind to ask to have Blaine reassigned but the next morning thought better of it because tongues would wag.

Without any justification, people would think untoward things about Blaine. What had he done to make her look for a different partner they would wonder? That would have been unfair to him. Plus, she didn't want him reassigned. She liked Blaine, liked kissing him. But it simply must be kept to that.

Blaine kept his promise to refrain from feeling her up the following day. They went to their room at the end of the day and made out like they had before Blaine's hand had ventured onto forbidden flesh. He moved his hand on her again. He moved it all around her breasts, but he didn't touch them even when she pushed her chest out invitingly.

It made Marie so hot to know how she was controlling the fractious young stallion. She went home and initiated sex with her husband for the second time in a week. She couldn't remember the last time she'd done that.

On the following day, Blaine again touched Marie's breast. His lips silenced her protest. This time her fight was short and consisted of verbal protestations only. This time she didn't try to push his hands away even though that's what her words communicated.

Marie was much less nervous this time as Blaine groped her. She'd made up her mind to try to enjoy the feeling her tits produced when fondled. She wasn't surprised when the black youth tried again.

Where would the species be,

she reasoned,

if males gave up at the first hint of rejection?

That night, hubby Dave got lucky for a third time in a week although his wilting member forced a sweet, al dente style sixty-nine, minus the creamy finish, instead of a fuck. Where hubby couldn't complete his act, Marie did magnificently, humping her wet gash up and down his face and tongue.

By the third day of titty play, Marie's arms were around Blaine's neck from the start, offering the boy what was now intruding on her thoughts with disturbing regularity: complete access to her upper body. He took full advantage of it. Both his hands roamed up her body, cupping and massaging Marie's tits.

"Oh god..." she breathed as she arched her back, daring young Blaine to test her tortured willingness to permit him all the intimacy above-the-waist, over-the-clothing fondling allows.

Marie was enjoying her sexual reawakening at age fifty-two. Her passionate make-out sessions with Blaine during the day made the sometimes hot and sometimes mellow sex with either her husband or herself at night immensely pleasurable. She'd even re-introduced herself to an eight-inch piece of rubbery black plastic she'd re-christened Blaine, Jr. and was "dating" on a regular basis. Junior was a wonderful lover.

All of this new heat in her life was courtesy of her work partner that summer, a nineteen-year-old black boy. She'd think of him constantly whether she was with him or not. He could do things to her cunt that no man had ever done and he hadn't even touched it. Of course that's the way it would have to stay because there were just too many taboos to cross to get from where Marie had been for the past thirty odd years to actual sex with the handsome onyx sculpture masquerading as a college kid home for the summer to make money.

No sex with Blaine didn't mean she couldn't make out with him though, so she spent the better part of a half-hour every day sucking on his tongue and letting him suck hers. The pair even engaged in some mild petting as Blaine was permitted manual access to Marie's still supple upper body while kissing her. Marie couldn't remember ever having so much sex as she did that summer with Blaine.

Something had happened one afternoon, something different. Blaine had taken his shirt off because of the heat, something he was doing with increasing regularity, and his black body glistened with sweat.

"You have such beautiful muscles," Marie said, tracing a finger along Blaine's abdomen as he drank from a bottle of water.

He grabbed her and kissed her, pulling her body into his, his sweat seeping in the fabric of her dress. She pressed her face into his chest when he broke to take another drink. She breathed deeply, drinking in the heady muskiness that blasted through his pores. She opened her lips to lick at him.

"Oh god, Blaine," she groaned when he broke their second kiss of the afternoon. The thoughts in her head were making it spin, thoughts of him.

For the first time, Blaine reached under Marie's shirt. Initially, her delirium didn't even detect the new movement. I simply felt like something Blaine had done hundred's of times already, run his hand up her body, except this time it was physically hotter.

She moaned and leaned into his caress seeking his mouth again and expelling passion into it. After a few seconds of playing with Marie's breast over he bra, Blaine slipped his fingers underneath it and touched her bare nipple snapping the pretty, mature blonde out of her trance.

"Damn it Blaine!" Marie shouted in a voice loud enough to echo back in time and wake up the ghost of everyone who'd ever visited the room. She pulled back violently, her shirt and bra coming up, baring her naked breast briefly. She knew he'd seen her tit with it's hardened tip and used the anger at his uninvited invasion of that portion of her privacy to animate herself. She stomped out of the room, pulling her bra cup back into place and straightening her top while screaming, "Get in the fucking car, Blaine!"

Marie drove home in petulant silence. She didn't even return Blaine's "Good night, Marie" as he exited her car. Once she was home, however, she raced to the mirror and pulled up her bra and top like she was trolling for beads at Mardi Gras.

Her nipple was still wonderfully erect as she knew it would be.

He's seen you!

Marie exalted, looking at her bare breast in the mirror, flicking at the nipple with her fingers.

And touched you!

Marie couldn't help grinning at herself in the mirror as she pushed her tits around like she was offering them up to the young black man who'd stroked them, well one of them anyway, earlier.

Suddenly she remembered something she'd seen in Dave's porn box when she'd gone looking for Blaine, Jr. She hadn't forgotten about them when she saw them in that box, but she hadn't seen them in years either. They were probably thrown away long ago is what she'd have thought had she thought about them which she hadn't. But now she was and she went to the box where she scooped out the small, glittering objects and looked at them resting in the palm of her hand.

She could still remember Dave giving them to her one Saturday evening when they were enjoying a few libations on their deck. At first she didn't know what to make of them. Were the stones real? No matter, they looked beautiful. But what were those clasps for? Marie had pierced ears.

"I don't get it," she said to her husband while squeezing the spring loaded metal clamps designed to secure the jewelry to the body. "I'm pierced," she said, holding one up to her ear. Had her husband actually forgotten or was she simply so low on his radar he didn't bother knowing such things. Her spirits sank on her assumption.

"They aren't for your ears."

"Where then?" Marie asked a split second before she realized the answer. "Oh no! You're not putting these there!" Marie tested the strength of the spring by clipping an earring to her little finger. "OWWW!" She handed them back.

But two Cosmopolitans later, there they were, dangling sexily from her nipples with her husband pulling, twisting, and flicking happily away at them. Marie, too, was enjoying being handled in a way that would make many cringe. Marie was no stranger to the pleasure derived from either physical or emotional pain.

Back at the mirror, Marie held the sparkling bangles up to her breasts. Thinking dirty thoughts made her smile and that summer she looked like one of those felines that hailed from Cheshire.

It had been years since Dave had attached things to her nipples but the remembrance brought chills anew. She tried to squeeze open the clasp of one earring with one hand while rolling an already hard nipple between the thumb and forefinger of the other.

The task took surprising force and she had second thoughts about attaching it. Had she really worn it on her nipple when she was younger? She repositioned her fingers on the clasp to get a better grip and it took all her strength to open it.

Simultaneously, she pulled her nipple out, extending it and aligned the clamp over it. She'd intended to ease the clamp closed, getting used to the pressure a bit at a time, backing off when necessary. One thing she remembered from wearing it before was that metal, unlike human flesh had no give to it. Even the tightest pinch didn't have the same unforgiving pressure as the metal jaws of those nipple bangles.

Just as her tender flesh was positioned perfectly, Marie lost her grip and the force of the spring was applied all at once. She screamed and saw stars. Her knees buckled and she fell against the mirror, needing it to prop her up. But even as the throbbing raged, an electricity buzzed her clitoris drawing attention away from her injured nipple.

Eventually, the flare in Marie's nostrils relaxed and she was able to close her mouth. She pushed her face away from the mirror with her left hand as her right had found its way down her body and a finger was polishing her labia with the slick emulsion leaking from inside her.

Marie watched her breast in the mirror as she multi-tasked, playing with her bedazzled nipple with one hand and her be-slicked cunt with the other.

What would Blaine think?

she thought, if he'd caught her like that and knew he was the cause of her desperation.

The nipple clamps became a regular part of her after work self-abusement just as bare tit fondling became a part Blaine's domain at their end-of-day snuggling...over Marie's initial, strenuous objections, of course. In fact, it wasn't long before he had her partially disrobing in her car while he drove to the football stadium.

"Why don't you take your bra off now?" Blaine asked as he started the six year old Camry Marie had begun the summer job seeking to replace.

"Why?" Marie wanted to know.

"Saves time when we get there."

"I thought you liked taking it off."

"It's gotten old."

So Marie began disrobing herself in the car even as she and Blaine sped to their concrete black and cement love nest.