The Thomas Household: Part Two: (Marla and Eva)

PART TWO: Marla and Eva

It was hard to paint with thoughts of that afternoon coursing through my brain. I couldn’t believe what I had done, or how badly I’d been fooled. I resented Kayla and Eva, but I resented my naiveté even more. I had played right into their hands. Sucker indeed.

I started my cleanup routine a while before three, having completely forgotten that Marla had asked me to stay late. The earlier ordeal had all but suppressed any further thoughts about her, except to consider her a stern authority figure who threatened my very future, even if she didn’t know it yet. When she walked through the door at three o’clock sharp, I was just about on my way out.

“Rob?” she called out.

Oh, shit, I thought. I don’t need this right now. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied. The dark-skinned matriarch came into the dining room and glanced around. “Hey, this looks very nice. I guess it’s pretty slow going with my new demands.”

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to do a good job on it, and trim is sometimes the hardest part. I’ll finish this room for sure tomorrow.”

“Okay, good,” Marla said. “Hey, did one of my daughters come home today?”

I swallowed. What did she know? “Ah, not that I know of. I went out this afternoon to grab a bite,” I lied, providing myself a window.

“Hmmm, I could have sworn Eva took her backpack to school with her, but I just found it by the front door.” For a second, I grew concerned, but really that wasn’t exactly the kind of damning evidence that would get me in trouble. I kept quiet, and Marla changed the subject to invite me upstairs. I wasn’t supposed to have ever seen the master bedroom, though I was of course plenty familiar with it.

“So this is the room I’m going to paint myself,” Marla said. “Do you have any advice?”

“Looks pretty straightforward,” I said. “Do you want advice on colors or something?”

Marla opened the closet and stepped into it as I spoke. She took her dress jacket off and hung it up, revealing the nicely fitting blouse through which I’d admired her earlier.

“Well, I’ll pick out the colors,” she said. “But I need to know stuff like what kind of paint to buy, and what tools I’ll need.” To my surprise, Marla started unbuttoning her shirt right in front of me. “I hope you don’t mind,” she remarked. “I can never wait to get out of my school clothes.” Then she turned her back to me.

“Well, I can leave you some brushes and rollers and stuff, so you don’t need to buy anything. I have really good stuff.”

“I’m sure you do, Rob,” said Marla.

“As for paint, just some quality latex or whatever. These wall shouldn’t need a primer. If you give me more swatches, I’ll pick it up with my discount and give it to you cost.”

Marla’s shirt came off. All I could see was the back of her bra, which she released from the front, dropped off her shoulders and let fall to the floor. Her back looked marvelous, so wonderfully brown, maybe a bit darker than my own. Next she slipped out of her open-toed shoes and kicked them into the closet.

“That’s really generous of you,” Marla said. “Do you think I should paint over the wood trim?” The woodwork in the master bedroom maintained its natural color.

“I’m not sure,” I said without removing my eyes from her alluring body. When Marla pulled off her pants, I became rigid, nervous, but kept feasting on the view. Indeed she had been wearing a black thong all day. It sliced between ass cheeks that each seemed outlandishly round and projected. I constantly salivated over such asses on the rare occasions I encountered them on the street. The way hers was framed by those motherly hips gave me a chill. “I mean, it looks really nice just the way it is,” I said.

“I’m glad you think so. I think Mr. Thomas likes it, too.”

Without turning around, Marla took a step forward and opened her top dresser drawer. She pulled out an emerald-colored undergarment of some sort and raised her hands to put it on over her head. I may never forget the scenic glimpse I caught in that flash, when I could see the sides of her tits bulging out past the edges of her back. What at first I thought must have been a slip was actually a short-cut babydoll negligee. It had an open back, and the translucent skirt hung from her mid-torso to just below the ass I knew she knew I’d been admiring. I could still see her thong and cheeks without straining my eyes.

When Marla turned around, I didn’t bother pretending I wasn’t checking her out. The garment covered her breasts, but it was low cut in a V shape that showed off the inner edges of her astounding mounds. Below them, the skirt cascaded beautifully, opening in an invered V to show off her belly and panties more clearly. I relished the sight of her snugly cupped tits and those show-stopping hips that curved gently but distinctly away from her slender waist.

“Maybe you’d like to get more comfortable, too, Rob…”

I took a step back. “Um, I’m flattered ma’am, but I don’t think that’s such a great idea.”

“Why not? Don’t you find me attractive?”

“No, I do. It’s not that.”

“Are you gay or something?”

“No,” I shot back defensively.

“You have a girl.”

“No… it’s just that. Well, I’ve been working all day.”

“I don’t mind, Rob. I think you smell sexy.” Marla decided I needed further convincing. “The girls aren’t home until about 6 o’clock on Wednesdays. Mr. Thomas picks them up at school on his way home from work. So we have plenty of time to play.”

Of course I really wanted to fuck Marla. If her kids had been that wild in bed, just imagine how their more-experienced mom would be. I also had Mark’s evaluation of his wife to go on, and I remained intrigued by it. It just seemed safer to wait for Mark to arrange and approve of an encounter, given my recent bad luck with keeping secretive activity on the down low. And it wasn’t like I was sex starved or anything.

“Mrs. Thomas, I really should be going.” She shot me the same look of poutty disappointment Kayla had hooked me with earlier. Then she took a step toward me. Then another. I froze.

“That’s better,” Marla said as she squatted down in front of me and started to undo my pants. My cock was already bulging, and I was excited for her to see and touch it. I resigned to letting it happened. I was already filled with guilt, and my day couldn’t possibly get any more twisted than it already had been. When Marla pulled my pants and underwear down, her eyes lit up at the sight of my dick, which was just beginning to rise to its full stature. “Oh boy,” she said. “We’ve got a live one.”

Marla held my prick in her hands, apparently admiring the sheer weight of it. She wasn’t in an eager hurry like her daughters had been. She apparently knew how to appreciate cock the way any man would love for his to be adored. After a few seconds, she let go and just rested herself on one knee below me. Tired as it was, my weak erection began to subside as I stood there, unsure of my next move, basically waiting for Marla’s lead.

Marla looked up at me and grinned. “I like to start from scratch,” she said. Then she bent low and cocked her head upward to take just the tip of my hanging dick into her mouth, kissing it gently and breathing warmness onto it. My cock responded slightly, and she started gorging herself on it. Marla easily stuffed my mostly flaccid cock into her mouth and sucked it in until her nose reached my short pubic hair at the base. Then she abruptly drew her head back and looked up at me suspiciously. I became scared for a second, but whatever thought she was having must have passed, because she presently dove down below and started sucking on my balls. Then another abrupt halt.

“Rob, have you been a naughty boy?”

I donned a shocked look, though I immediately knew she was onto me – at least partly. I hadn’t washed my pubes thoroughly, and I hadn’t really washed my nuts at all. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, were you with a woman today?”

“No!” I said. “Of course not. I was here working all day.”

“Even when you went out for ‘lunch’?” she asked. “I can smell a woman on you. I know what pussy smells like, you sly boy.”

“I didn’t–”

“Wait. Did you have sex with my daughter?” Oh shit. The backpack. “This pussy smells an awful lot like mine.” Guilt made a statue out of me. “You did! You fucked Eva today, didn’t you?”

“Mrs. Thomas,” I began, not really knowing what to follow up with. I didn’t need to.

“Holy shit,” Marla said. “That fucking figures.”

“I didn’t have sex–”

“Don’t worry, Rob. I can imagine how it played out. She probably came home from school just to fuck you today. She’s been doing that kind of thing since she was 12. She’s probably been with more men than I have by now. She is very seductive. Her father doesn’t know about it, but I know all too well. Why do you think I’ve been having you leave by 3 o’clock every day? And her younger sister looks up to her so. She pretends she’s disgusted by Eva’s slutty ways, but I know it’s just a matter of time before she starts taking after…”

“I don’t know what to say, Mrs. Thomas.” That was the extent of a confession I was willing to offer.

“Just say you treated her right.”

“I think so, Ma’am.”

“I mean, you were gentle with her?”

“Ma’am, I’m not really comfortable–”

“Just tell me you were good to her.” I nodded. “She’s really a good girl, you know,” Marla concluded.

A moment passed during which I thought Marla’s mood had changed 180 degrees. I was expecting her to shoo me away, which would have been a disappointing relief right about then. But instead, she offered a confession of her own.

“Mrs. Thomas was naughty today, too,” Marla said in a meek but nevertheless sultry voice, still kneeling at my feet. I couldn’t muster a response. “Do you want to know what Mrs. Thomas did today?” I think I nodded slightly, but it didn’t seem necessary. “Today, for the first time ever, Mrs. Thomas let a student fuck her.” Marla unintentionally sighed a long breath onto my cock, which was now soft again. It twitched but remained mostly flaccid.

“A boy of 16 named Terrell Jones acted out in class,” Marla continued, “so Mrs. Thomas made him stay in the room during lunch. Mrs. Thomas asked him to explain his behavior, but Terrell was defiant. She asked why he had such a problem with Mrs. Thomas, and Terrell called Mrs. Thomas a tease. He said she had a hot body and always wore tight clothes and smiled nice at all the boys, but she would never invite any of them to fuck her, and that made her a tease. Mrs. Thomas objected, but Terrell would not relent.

“So Mrs. Thomas took Terrell into the closet, removed her pants, and told the boy to fuck her. Terrell unzipped his fly at once and pulled out a huge cock – almost as big as this one you have here. It was already hard. It was an immature, impatient cock. Terrell pushed Mrs. Thomas face-first into a wall, pressing on the back of her head until her face was smushed against the plaster. He tugged her panties aside and stabbed that big cock into her dry cunt from behind. It wasn’t the size or lack of lube that hurt Mrs. Thomas most. It was the fact that she knew he wanted it to hurt, which made her allow it to hurt. He groped her tits through her blouse with one hand while he reached around her neck and pressed his fingers around her throat with the other.

“Terrell fucked Mrs. Thomas hard and clumsily, now holding one of her legs up, still pressing her against the wall, still choking her slightly with his other hand. The fuck was rough and dirty. Terrell grunted like a beast as he took his teacher. He said terrible things to her, calling her ‘Bitch’ and ‘Cunt.’ ‘Bitch, this is the way a real cock feels, not that white-boy dick Mr. Thomas hits you with.’ After what could not have been a minute, just as Mrs. Thomas was getting wet, Terrell took his cock away. ‘Maybe Mrs. Thomas wants it up the ass,’ he said. Mrs. Thomas shook her head, but it was dark, and she didn’t say ‘no.’ With his hand around her throat, Terrell could have thought Mrs. Thomas had nodded. It doesn’t matter. Terrell pushed his teacher harder against the wall, pressing her tits against it painfully. She could smell his sweat and his breath. Then he forced the head of that big dry cock into her ass, cramming it in with a groan, still holding her leg up and impelling her against the wall.

“Terrell worked his excruciating cock deeper and deeper into Mrs. Thomas’s ass and started pumping away. Every inch of it hurt her, but she never made a sound. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly it hurt. Then, when it felt good, she remained silent. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing part of her loved that hard cock abusing her tight, dry asshole.

“Choking gave way to vicious hair-pulling, but Terrell pulled out again after fewer than a dozen pleasurable strokes. ‘You want this come in your face, Bitch?’ Terrell asked. Mrs. Thomas nodded her head this time, but again Terrell could not see. Again it didn’t matter. The boy pushed his teacher down to her knees and grabbed another handful of her hair, forcing her head back. He poked his big, dirty cock at Mrs. Thomas’s lips. She could smell her naughty ass on him, and she wanted cock in her mouth more than anything, but she wouldn’t open it up for Terrell. She needed to deny him that pleasure.

“That seemed to anger the boy, so he lifted his teacher up again with his strong arms and pushed her back against the wall. This time he was squeezing her neck around the front, choking her harder, choking her for real. Mrs. Thomas grew terrified and tried to scream, but only a whimper came out, and only Terrell could hear it. She regretted that.

“Terrell jammed that huge dick back into Mrs. Thomas’s pussy, which was now dripping wet. But the boy came before he was even halfway deep. Terrell shot a hot load right inside Mrs. Thomas’s cunt while she looked at his eyes and teeth glimmering in the nearly absent light. She could feel him throbbing and pumping inside her. She couldn’t breathe, but she could feel the boy’s come fill her. Finally, Terrell released his terrifying grip on Mrs. Thomas’s throat.

“He left her wanting, as she had expected, so Mrs. Thomas pulled the her panties back into place and said, ‘You see, Terrell – I’m not the tease. You are the tease. You couldn’t ever please a real woman. A real woman needs to be fucked for real. You’re just a boy, and that’s why you’ll never get to fuck Mrs. Thomas again.’ Mrs. Thomas thought the boy might strike her, but he did not. Ashamed, Terrell zipped himself up and stormed out of the room. Mrs. Thomas collapsed in the closet, also ashamed. She could feel Terrell’s come drizzling out and soaking the crotch of her panties. She cried.”

Marla crumpled to the floor at my feet, much the way I pictured her doing in that closet, and she started to remove her underwear. I doubted Marla’s story was true. I suspected it was her way of putting us on an even moral keel. But the effect the tale had on me was outrageous. Despite having already come twice that afternoon, I was once more hard as I’d ever been, even though Marla never touched me during the whole telling.

Marla reached up and handed me her black thong. The narrow strip that formed its crotch was moist, but more distinctively, it was stained with a crusty substance that could only have been long-hardened come.

“So,” Marla said, rising to her feet, “you see, Mrs. Thomas has been very naughty. But she was also mistreated. She deserved to be manhandled by that boy, because she had in fact been teasing him and all the others all year long, and she’d known they wanted her. But she also deserved to come. And now she should be punished once more, but it needs to be done right this time.”

Marla’s face was now an inch from mine. I leaned forward to kiss her, but she surprised me by dodging the advance. I reached around her back to caress her, but she pulled away. I couldn’t figure out what exactly I was supposed to do, but lust was in control, and my subconscious assured me it had understood the foreplay story, and that it knew this mysterious woman better than my conscious mind even wanted to. I don’t think I was fully in charge of myself when I stepped out of my pants and took my shirt off, all without removing my eyes from Marla’s intense gaze.

I could tell Marla wanted a serious fucking. Up to that point, such things hadn’t really been my specialty, because frankly most women don’t want to get nailed like a porn star by my oversized cock – or at least they don’t admit it, and that’s their prerogative. It was what I knew about Marla’s family – and the story she’d just told me, which I took to intend some kind of foreshadow – that gave me the courage to behave the way I began to once my clothes were off.

I grabbed Marla’s left arm in my right hand, clamping on tightly.