Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Takin' it to the Banks
Part: 4 of 6
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A woman's libido is reawakened by her daughter's antics, and
desperation finds an outlet.

Keywords: MF oral

Keywords for full story: MF mf 1st oral

Takin' it to the Banks

Chapter 4

	As soon as the two vehicles were on the road, Marion started something
actively dangerous - trying to divest herself of her sports bra while driving.
Her outfit, a golf shirt with the cleaning company logo over black pants,
wasn't going to be conducive to the kind of access she HOPED Aaron wanted
while they were petting - anything she could do to ease the way was indicated.
The thing fought her every step of the way, and she had barely gotten it off
and through the arm of her shirt when they pulled into the parking lot of the
apartment complex.  Getting the shirt tucked back in neatly wasn't going to
happen; she got out of the car, throwing the light jacket over the disaster,
and rushed to meet Aaron at the door.

	Aaron's apartment was a two-story townhouse affair, part of a four-
plex.  Downstairs, there was a living room, dining room, and kitchen and a
small powder room; upstairs held a bath and two bedrooms.  Marion immediately
noticed that the living room was done up as more of a study; there were
several tall bookcases, and a rather large desk/workstation setup along the
wall holding the staircase.  This kind of crowded the small couch (love seat?)
and a worn recliner, situated around a small, glass-topped coffee table, all
of which fronted the entertainment center, which, though not huge, was
obviously thoroughly modern.  The wall switch controlled a lamp over by the
workstation; Marion was willing to bet that the lamp that Aaron turned on low
on the end table next to the couch saw little use.  Aaron turned to Marion,
taking her jacket, and murmured, "I know that we've discussed alcohol, but a
single glass of wine..."

	Marion nodded.  Suddenly, she was nineteen again, alone with a guy and
jittery.  Aaron, seeing the nervous expression on her face, queried, "Red, or
white?"

	"Um, white," Marion replied.  "Red gives me a headache."

	"Sulfites," Aaron made a moue of distaste, "have ruined red wine for
so many...  I have a nice pinot grigio...?"

	Marion nodded brightly (although she'd never had that variety), and
Aaron headed for the kitchen, hoping the bottle he had on hand was still good.
While he decanted two glasses of wine, Marion took the time to re-tuck her
shirt, suddenly realizing as she re-zipped her trousers that she really didn't
want the thing to even BE there...  And for the life of her, she couldn't
think of any not-so-obvious method of granting Aaron access to the things she
WANTED him to get to in that damned outfit!

	Aaron detected her sigh of frustration as he re-entered the living
room, glasses in hand.  "Something wrong?"

	"Yes, but there is nothing to be done..." Marion sighed, taking a
glass and parking herself on the right end of the couch.

	Aaron stood a moment, his glance shifting between the empty space to
Marion's left and the recliner to her right, before gingerly seating himself
on the couch.  Marion was willing to bet he'd never used it.  She covered her
smile by lifting the glass to her lips, then her eyes lit in surprise, "Nice!
Fruity!"

	Aaron smiled.  "Yes, the pinot is a nice wine.  A fine combination of
flavors..."  'Christ!  I'm going to have to make conversation?  We're ruined!'
he worried belatedly, as he took a sip himself.

	But Marion, fortified, dove in at this point. "I-I don't know how to
say this..." she began, "How long has it been for you?"

	"Since I... had sex?" Aaron clarified.  Marion jerked a nod.  "Several
months, from a 'professional'.  Several years, since I've been with anyone
with whom the relationship wasn't... commercial."

	"Me, too," Marion supplied.  "With me, there haven't even been
'professionals', only the occasional toy..."  She blushed.  "My daughter and
her boyfriend have a... really healthy... sex life.  I haven't interfered - in
fact, I helped them start out - but it's like sitting through a triple feature
of porn flicks, tied to a chair..."  She caught his eye and held it, "You're
right - we've covered a lot of ground...  Neither of us has anything to
prove..."

	Aaron held up a hand; there was no reason for Marion to continue to
embarrass herself - he got it.  "Wait here," he admonished, rising.  Marion
watched him ascend the stairs, wondering what he was up to.

	At the heads of the stairs, he turned left, into his bedroom.  He
didn't make the bed, but he arranged the covers and neatened it, then he went
to dig in his closet for something he possessed, but seldom wore - a
terrycloth bathrobe.  It took a moment, but he found it; aware that he had the
same problem she did, he also realized that for him, it wasn't as important.
He draped it over his arm, and descended the stairs, moving to stand over her.
"You might want to put this on," he offered.  "It's the best I can do, I think
- and it might make necking a little easier and more enjoyable..."  Marion
accepted the item gravely, examining it, and Aaron continued, "The powder room
is through there," pointing past the dining area toward a previously unnoticed
alcove on the right.

	Marion held his eyes as she rose and walked toward the powder room
carrying both the robe and her glass.  She had several options, and nothing
was guaranteed, even yet, but if she donned the robe, the chances that they
were going to have sex went up dramatically, and both knew it.  Marion closed
the powder room door and sipped her wine, pondering her next move.  Certainly,
the golf shirt was coming off; that was a given.  It was what ELSE she took
off that would set the tone for the rest of the evening.  If she left her
pants on, Aaron would know he was in for a long and possibly fruitless night.
On the other hand, if Marion came out of her panties, that, on top of her
other utterances and actions, said 'slut'.  But was leaving her panties on
really enough of a statement?  She sat down and took off her shoes, leaving
her half-socks on.  The golf shirt came off and was carefully folded while she
tested the depth of her nerve.  Finally, she stood and peeled off her slacks,
leaving the panties on.  Laying the clothing atop a laundry hamper, she donned
the robe and tied off the sash, grinning as she wondered, 'How long will it
take him to find out?'  Collecting her wineglass, she composed herself and
stepped out, feigning calm.

	Aaron hadn't bothered to sit; he'd paced the room, nervous as a
teenager.  They were SO close!  How far were they going to go?  And what did
it all mean?  And who was hunting whom?  Thus far, as passive as she had been,
Marion had made the key moves that had brought him the confidence to take
action to bring them together.  Her carefully phrased announcement moments ago
had made it clear that she wouldn't quibble at sex; in fact, if things went
well between them, she expected it!  His latest move had been pretty brave,
but she'd accepted it...  Given the comments she'd made it seemed like she
wanted sex bad - just didn't want to appear too slutty...  Well, that was
fair...  The door opened, and she emerged, wearing the robe and those little
footy things; the only open question was whether she was wearing panties under
the robe.  Aaron decided that she probably was, and would put up a token
resistance before he penetrated them; that would throw a sop to virtue while
allowing them to move forward.  Aaron decided that it was time to insure that
they WERE moving forward, so he lowered his glass to the coffee table, met her
before the couch, lifted her chin, and delivered their first kiss.

	It was blindingly successful.  Marion's lips opened instinctively, and
her tongue peeked out - and Aaron's chased it all over, starting a border war
in which one of them was always invading the other's mouth.  This went on for
an interval that neither of them could adequately track - too much attention
was involved.

	Finally, however, they backed up to take in air; Marion's first
utterance was a moan of, "Oh, God!"  Aaron essayed a wild grin, and his
signature reserve departed with it. Collecting her now superfluous wineglass,
he pulled in an armload of gently squirming female and commenced another
attack run.

	This kind of activity was a revelation to Marion; Ed hadn't been one
to concentrate at all on kissing - he was always intent on the target between
her legs.  Aaron's concentration was total - well, no, he let up there, for a
sec - Oh, God!  Strong fingers closed around her left nipple, gently teasing,
and Marion was inundated, the shock wave weakening her knees and causing her
to clutch herself to him.

	Aaron had freed up just enough attention to slip his hand through the
neck of the robe and collect the fleshy spike, wondering at its length and
stiffness, then Marion's clutching embrace and her moan into his mouth caused
him to leave his fingers on autopilot and return attention to her lips.

	In the absence of one sense or feature, Nature often enhances or
augments another; such was the case with Marion's nipples.  From their perch
atop the virtually nonexistent pads of her breasts, they had been known to
protrude for over an inch and a half, quivering antennae, begging for a touch.
And they were extremely sensitive, too - Marion had been known to approach
orgasm from nipple play, alone - not that Ed had ever given them much
attention.  There had been days when nursing Twyla had been agony and ecstasy,
and momentary masturbation afterward (or during, Marion would admit to herself
guiltily, if pressed) had brought on orgasm.  Thus, it should be no surprise
that Marion virtually attempted to merge herself with Aaron, standing up, and
her tongue became demanding in its passionate attack!  Mere seconds after his
fingers closed on the stiff spike of flesh, Marion's panty gusset was soaked
from the wash of her fluids the touch generated!

	Aaron, more than mildly surprised at her intensity, decided to defeat
the robe altogether, working his left hand through the opening and sliding it
along her ribs around to her back and up until it tasted the soft skin between
and below her shoulder blades.  Holding her to him in the crook of his elbow,
he swept the hand up and down, caressing the soft skin of her back.

	Marion began to thrash, driven by the unformed imperative to touch
Aaron's bare flesh, and without a quick means of dealing with it.  Subtlety
was out the window; Marion grabbed a double handful of Aaron's short-sleeved
dress shirt and the undershirt beneath and heaved it upward, untucking it,
then drove both hands beneath, bringing them up along his back and pressing
him to her.

	This action, however, pinned Aaron's right arm between them, something
comfortable to neither.  It foreshortened the kiss they were working on; when
Aaron pulled back, Marion compromised by moving her left hand to his chest,
finding a smattering of hair.  She dropped her head to his shoulder, sucking
in air in great noisy lungfuls through her nose while Aaron devoted even more
attention to her spiky nipple.

	Aaron decided that it was time to 'play' Marion - explore her body
looking for additional erogenous zones - but it was an effort best carried out
while more or less horizontal.  He glanced at the couch and grimaced - Christ,
neither of them was sixteen!  Aaron gathered himself and nudged Marion with
his shoulder; she raised her head and met his eyes, which he flicked to the
stair.  Following the glance, she divined his intent; she couldn’t hold his
eyes, but she nodded, tightly.  Aaron, acutely aware that she was embarrassed,
held her hand as he led her to the stair and up it.

	Marion followed Aaron on autopilot, her dazed comparison of Aaron's
and Ed's techniques distancing her somewhat from her embarrassment at her
inexorable progress toward Aaron's bed.  Even the hand-holding thing was
different; Ed hadn't ever been demonstrative at all, in public or private;
Aaron's contrasting activity pointed up the differences and revealed to Marion
just how little Ed had really cared for her.

	Once in the bedroom, Aaron abandoned reticence and assumed control.
He pulled Marion in, close enough to capture both of her nipples, then eyed
her, and glanced down at his shirt.  Marion, electricity arcing between her
hot points, managed to divine his intention and began unbuttoning his shirt,
her fingers fumbling at the absolutely normal, mundane fastenings.  When she'd
finished, she slid her hands up and pushed it off his shoulders, sighing in
mild complaint at the disengagement from her nipples that this occasioned.
Aaron allowed the shirt to drop down his arms, but held it pooled around his
left wrist while he pushed the robe off of Marion's shoulders and collected it
with his right.  As he stepped away, Marion, suddenly feeling exposed and
alone, took in her surroundings.

	Aaron was in the process of draping his shirt on a wooden valet along
the wall; the robe, he then threw over the top.  Marion eyed the thing,
bemused - she'd been under the impression that furniture such as this was an
affectation of the rich.  She looked around the room, expecting to finally
find Mama's imprint, but, no, the slight (VERY slight) disarray and patina of
dust said 'male', clearly - Aaron might have a maid or a cleaning lady, but he
didn't have anyone too officious overseeing his domestic arrangement.  Aaron
caught the look and grinned, "When you're a bachelor, and not domestically
inclined, you either succumb to the popular stereotype and drown in your own
trash, or you force a certain level of organization.  I tried the first
method, and couldn't keep cleaning ladies and couldn't find my..."  He was
GOING to say, 'ass with both hands,' but he contented himself with "anything."
Marion heard the other comment clearly, anyway, and smiled.  He continued,
"It's not perfect - I just don't like hanging up stuff that has been worn once
with stuff that's clean - but I'd have to have at LEAST two of these things,
so..."  He waved at the closet, where clothes on hangers and directly hung
festooned hooks applied to the bifold doors.  Marion's smile broadened; yes,
that was a TOTALLY male solution...

	Aaron stepped out of his trousers and stood there a moment - did he
have time to empty his pockets into the tray?  A glance at Marion, standing
with her arms crossed, looking somewhat forlorn, said, 'no', so he draped them
gently, hoping things wouldn't crash to the floor, and moved to re-engage
Marion before her nerve left her.  He needed something immediate, something to
break her out of her self-contained examination of her seriously exposed
position, so he stepped in close and applied his lips to her neck.  It worked;
Marion gasped, "Ohmigod!" and clutched at him while her knees gave way, her
body betraying her totally under the touch.

	Aaron collected her as if she were a child, scooping her up, rotating,
depositing her on the bed, and stretching out alongside her in one fluid
motion.  And no one was more surprised at the success of the move than Aaron;
he wasn't really thinking - just reacting - but it was working...  What next?
Simple!  He continued the movement, almost without pause...

	"Huuuuuuunhh!"  Marion's lungs emptied as she wrapped herself around
the intense sensations generated by a set of firm lips taking possession of
her left nipple.  Aaron, discovering that he had plenty to work with, brought
his tongue into play, using it to caress the fleshy spike.  Marion buried her
left hand in the thick hair at the back of his head, holding him in place; her
right started out grabbing random handfuls of the bedclothes, but settled for
rubbing Aaron's back and left side while she moaned her pleasure, "Oh,God!
Oh, God!"  Already, she could feel an orgasm gathering power in her belly,
aided by Aaron's hand caressing and teasing her belly and flank - but avoiding
her panties and the burning flesh inside.

	Aaron rolled a little flatter, bringing the iron bar of his cock into
contact with the inside of Marion's right thigh with an almost audible sizzle.
He was on fire, and the urge to just shred her panties and take her was
strong; he KNEW she wouldn't fight it!  But that, somehow wasn't enough; the
control thing was within his grasp, here, and if he managed to bring her to
heel here, now, it would be done for all time - for Marion displayed signs of
being submissive, perhaps to a degree that even she was totally unaware of.

	Marion wanted that burning bar of flesh inside her - but for a start,
having it rubbing alongside her clitoris would do.  She began to surge and
rock, using her arousal to drive herself under Aaron, bringing his fiery staff
closer and closer to her pudenda.  But when she was almost there, his cock
lying in the depression between her thigh and her burning mons, he rolled up,
releasing her nipple.  "Want something?" he asked, with an evil smirk.

	"Uh huh!" Marion gasped out, and pulled his head back down.

	Aaron acquiesced for a moment, running his lips up and down the stiff
protuberance while crushing his staff against her clit, bringing a delighted
moan.  Then he was up again, rolling off and pulling his head back.  Marion
moaned in frustration and arched herself, chasing his wandering cock with her
crotch.  "What?  What do you want?" he teased.

	Marion was maddened.  She was one giant nerve ending, and Aaron kept
pulling away!  What did he want?  "What?"

	"What do you want?" Aaron asked, reasonably.  He waited a moment while
she struggled with her scattered senses then snapped, "Say it!" his voice a
whip-crack.

	"Uh...  Uh..." Marion stuttered, confused.  What was he up to?

	"You know what it is; you know what to call it.  Ask for it.  Ask for
it now, or maybe you won't get it!"  Aaron's eyes bored into Marion's, "Tell
me what you want!"

	"Your cock!" Marion wailed.  Anything to get it!

	Aaron rolled back onto her, grinding his cock into her lower belly and
pubic mound.  Talk about your empty threats...  But somebody in this
relationship had to be strong, and he was determined that they both know who
that person was.  Having granted her a physical reward, he crooned, "Good.
Where do you want it?  Is this good enough?"  He started to again back off.

	Marion surged to follow, "No!"

	"No?"  Aaron pinned her hip to the mattress.  "Where, then?"

	"Inside me!"  Marion wailed, thrashing.

	Aaron rolled back onto her, and she drove herself against him, and
tried to wrap her legs around him - but he got his outside, and wouldn't allow
it.  "Inside you?  Where?  Tell me!  There are three different places..."

	Aaron, now prone atop her, telegraphed a move to rise, and all
restraint left her.  "In my pussy!" she wailed.

	"What if I want your mouth?  Or your ass?" Aaron teased.  Perched on
his elbows, he clamped fingers on both of Marion's nipples.

	Marion arched as if electrocuted.  "They're yours!" she screeched,
"Anything!"

	Aaron slid himself up and down alongside her clitoris.  It was
maddening to him, but somehow he maintained control.  "So I own all of your
holes?" he asked in a parody of reasonableness.

	Marion WAS maddened.  "Yes!  Yes!  Only, please, f-fuck me!  Oh,
God..."

	Aaron repeated the sliding movement and murmured softly, "We're almost
there, now... Listen to me!"  He stopped moving, staring into her fevered
eyes.  "What do you call a woman who can't control herself where sex is
concerned?  One who has to have it, and will humiliate and degrade herself to
get it?"

	"A..."  Marion cudgeled her smoking mind, "slut?"  Where did that
flash through her loins come from?

	"Very good."  Aaron rewarded her with another stroke, finger work on
her burning nipples and an attack on her neck that left her senses reeling,
then rose for another question.  "And that makes you?"

	Marion strained to follow him up.  She knew the answer he was fishing
for, and she knew he was going to get it - besides, he was right, wasn't he?
"A slut!  I'm a slut!"

	Aaron smiled, and he let her strain to reach him, but he didn't lower
himself to her.  Instead, he frowned and growled, "Sluts don't wear panties.
They get in the way.  You don't want...?"

	Marion was already moving, lifting her hips and hurling the fabric
down her thighs.  She drew up her feet, and they were gone - God knew where!
Marion splayed her legs, and Aaron lowered himself between them, allowing her
to wrap them around him, finally.  Marion began to rock.  If Aaron had any
worries that Marion might not live up to her advertising, THAT put them to
rest!  For her size, Marion was incredibly strong; much more of this, and
exhaustion would claim Aaron - which would tend to undermine his position...
Aaron threw himself to his left, rolling both of them over so that Marion was
on top.  "Wouldn't you prefer it if I weren't wearing underwear, either?  Take
them off!  Turn around here, and maybe I'll give you a little lick, while
you're at it..."

	Marion wasn't thinking - she'd gone beyond.  Her will was his.  She
spun, draping herself with her head over his crotch and hers at his chin, and
went to work to remove his briefs.  Aaron found himself gazing at her damp,
pink, excited-smelling gash.  'Nice clit,' he mused, while placing his hands
on her hips and directing her in closer...  He allowed himself a quick
examination of her pussy while Marion struggled to get his briefs over his
hips and on the way to his knees (it was pretty, and good-sized, too!) the
directed an attack on the obvious target, wrapping his lips around her
engorged clitoris and drubbing it with his tongue.

	Marion went right out!  She'd been teased and tortured, titillated and
humiliated, and, finally, OVER-stimulated...  She went rigid, arching herself
in a bow and shaking as the shock wave raced over her, incapable of anything
but a high keening through constricted lungs.

	Aaron didn't realize immediately EXACTLY what he'd accomplished; it
wasn't until he became aware of the copious gush of fluids from the suddenly
pulsing little opening before his nose that he understood that he'd
accomplished more than he'd immediately intended.  He lifted his point of
attack, twisting his tongue into the pulsing opening, and lapping up the
fluids while Marion's vaginal walls tried to clamp on their fleshy intruder.

	Marion stayed rigid for almost thirty seconds, then collapsed,
boneless, all but unconscious in the aftermath.  Oh, God, it was good!
Slowly, she became aware of this and that - the musky smell of the hot iron
bar of flesh she had her nose buried against, the feel of Aaron's hands...

	Aaron had a big hand on each of her little round asscheeks, and was
amusing himself by kneading them, enjoying the feel.  Obviously, the poor
thing had needed it bad; he felt a little bit ashamed of himself for the
humiliation - obviously, it had been even more agonizing to her than he'd
realized.  Marion's orgasm had basically blown all of her breakers; he could
wait for the reset, a little bit...  He let his hands wander over her compact,
muscular form, playing with her ass, caressing her sides and lower back.  In a
bit, she moaned and began to move slowly, murmuring.

	Aaron nudged her by rolling his hips, "Hey, what about me?"

	Marion was still weak and woozy, but there was an obvious target
alongside her nose...  Turning her head a bit, she began laving Aaron's
burning shaft with her tongue, trying to remember how one sucked a cock - it
had been a while.  Sliding off Aaron, she draped herself perpendicular to him,
facing his feet, and with her head on his midsection, absorbed his glans.

	Aaron hissed in pleasure.  Oh, this was very good!  Only the
anticipation of driving himself into her tasty pussy granted him the willpower
and control to stave off erupting in her mouth.  The pleasure was intense, and
he reveled in it.  This would be the first of many of THESE, he swore to
himself.

	Marion was discovering an embarrassment of riches.  Memory told her
that she'd absorbed Ed's cock to the root, regularly, during blowjobs; Aaron,
however, was another matter!  Ed had been wiener time - or maybe less; Aaron's
cock more resembled a fat bratwurst - only it was somewhat larger!  The girth
of the mushroom head made it a choker, in and of itself!  Fortunately, she
remembered that it was most sensitive around the base of the glans; she should
be able to make him happy with what she COULD handle.  She made a mental
promise to herself that if she and Aaron really started seeing one another,
she would learn to take it all.

	Blowjobs were great and everything, but Aaron had his sights set
elsewhere.  Tousling Marion's hair, he rumbled, "I think we ought to test fit
that where it belongs, don't you?"

	"Mmmmhmm," Marion murmured around her mouthful, then rose to her hands
and knees and turned to regard him.  "How?"

	"Well, why don't you handle the insertion from the top?" Aaron replied
reasonably.  "You're not a virgin, obviously, but I know you have some worries
over size..."

	Marion nodded, distracted by playing with her new toy, "Yeah, I've
never..."

	"It'll fit," Aaron counseled, "Remember, your daughter - Twyla? -
emerged from there.  Sure it was painful, but she was MUCH bigger..."
'Christ!' he wondered, 'was Ed THAT small?'  The reality was that Ed was a
little small - not TOO bad, at five and a half inches - but Aaron had nearly
two inches in length and a touch more than proportionate girth on him; to
Marion, this was orders of magnitude!  Lisa, his ex, had occasionally
complained about his size, but the sluts in porn flicks took more all the
time...

	Marion knelt up over Aaron's waist and rubbed his cock head along her
slit, spreading her inner lips and orienting the tip on her opening.  The
situation was an odd mix of the familiar and the new and different; she and Ed
had essayed this position any number of times during their years together -
but Aaron's size and her long period of abstinence made the approach seem more
like the prelude to the loss of her maidenhead.  Aaron wasn't just gong to
slip in - that much was obvious!  She settled a bit, and Aaron's erection
maintained a satisfying solidity; rather than the shaft bending under the
pressure, the spongy head began to wedge her opening wider.  Marion sighed in
relief and pleasure - this hadn't been Ed's favorite position, and he'd been
known to lose stiffness rather rapidly.  Aaron, on the other hand, appeared to
be having no problems - although she wasn't sure whether his facial expression
reflected pain or pleasure...

	Actually, it was pleasure, although the intensity and a certain mixed
component - Marion was TIGHT - alloyed it somewhat.  This particular
penetration was better than any in Aaron's memory - certainly, despite her
occasional complaints, Lisa had never felt like this!  Tight, hot, wet, and
velvety soft - Aaron felt every millimeter as the ring of muscle at her
vaginal opening slowly gave ground.  This was incredible!  Only the slight
desensitization of the short effort at fellatio that he'd endured prior
allowed him to maintain control as the spongy head popped through and the ring
wrapped around the sensitive area of upper shaft just beyond.  Add the feel of
her tissues being spread as glans continued to move beyond the opening, and
Aaron was beside himself!

	A glance up took in Marion's inward stare as she took inventory of HER
sensations from the voluntary impalement.  And it was EXTREMELY voluntary -
although it felt like Aaron was ironing all of the folds out of her inner
walls with his hot probe!  'My God!  The difference!' Marion thought, dazed -
there was just no comparison!  It wasn't just a matter of length - Aaron's
girth had her FEELING like he was opening new territory from the start!  The
initial penetration took all of maybe thirty seconds, but they BOTH felt like
it had taken a week!  At the end of it, Marion knelt with her sparse pubes
buried in Aaron's more robust curlies, her clitoris nestled against his pubic
bone, and sighed in pleasure - she'd never been so deliciously full in her
entire life!  Then she began to rise, to sensations that were, if anything,
more intense, as her inner lining and the crown of his glans conspired to
fight the extraction.  Over the next dozen or so strokes, Marion set up a
pattern of loudly inhaling through her nose as she rose on Aaron's hot shaft,
then and explosively exhaled "Oooh!" as she settled back.

	Speed slowly increased as the pair began to approach an accommodation,
but didn't get really fast; Marion reached a certain point and began to have
control problems.  Aaron found that he didn't have any issues with it - her
wobbles helped him to maintain control, something he'd become instantly
concerned about on penetration.  The feel of their coupling was incredible,
but it wouldn't do for him to go off and collapse before Marion had collected
her first orgasm!  He reached up and settled his hands along her upper chest,
giving her a pivot point to brace upon while going to work on her nipples -
and she almost lost it immediately!  "Ooohh, God!" she moaned as her face
suffused - but her control got even worse, and frustration set in at her
uneven performance.

	Aaron took this as a sign that it was once again time to exert
control.  "Okay, I think it's best if I drive, now," he announced.  "Grab on,
we're rolling over!"  He gathered her in and rolled them over to his left.
Marion instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and showed signs of
being concerned over a loss of sensation, but Aaron resolved that with a
powerful snap of his hips.  Marion's eyes bugged at the new depth and power;
her legs flew open and Aaron pinned them back and brought the pile driver on-
line, smashing into her along the now flattened plane of her pubic mound.  He
wasn't three strokes in before Marion stiffened and began trying to arch,
keening, as her here-again, gone-again orgasm delivered abruptly on its
promise of explosive pleasure.  Marion gasped, surged, and whined as the shock
waves coursed over her; Aaron took it easy, enjoying the grip of her internal
muscles as her vagina rippled in welcome.  He was extremely pleased with
himself - it had been a long time since he'd been called upon to deliver such
a command performance, and he WAS forty, after all...  Marion relaxed, and
Aaron picked up the pace and forcefulness of his delivery again, this time
with his own pleasure at a higher priority.

	As far as Marion was concerned, he needn't have worried.  The initial
penetration and ride had been wonderful, but Marion had felt at loose ends.
When Aaron rolled her over, he took possession, and Marion had reacted to that
at an extremely deep level; that component, more than anything else, had
triggered her abrupt rise to orgasm.  The more demanding he became, the more
compliant she became in response, and the more pleasure she derived from
working to meet him.  Aaron stepped up the pace and power until he was
literally pounding on the gates to her womb, and Marion accepted the pain as a
multiplier to her pleasure, driving back at him as powerfully as she was able.
When Aaron succumbed to his passion and began that final attempt to bury
himself in her and flood her with his seed, Marion actually beat him to
orgasm, driving herself against him in a frenzy that found her rigid, trying
her best to merge physically with him as the first blast of his semen poured
over her cervix.

	Being those few moments ahead of him, Marion relaxed and started
sliding into aftermath while Aaron was still actively ejaculating, her mind
relaxed and drifting...  'Wow!  I never felt Ed's cum like that...  But then,
Ed's cock wasn't bottomed out like Aaron's is - felt like he was poking a hole
in my...  Oh, SHIT!'

	Aaron, just coming down, felt Marion stiffen and discovered her white
with shock.  "What's wrong?"

	"Oh, God!" Marion wailed, "I'm not protected!  I don't want to be a
single mother again at thirty eight!"  She started to thrash.

	Aaron swatted her on the ass, "Hey!"

	Shock halted Marion, "Huh?"

	Aaron eyed her calmly, "On average, it takes over two hundred sex acts
to cause conception.  Besides, in the unlikely event that we're miraculously
fertile, it's too late - nothing you can do now will help, and rushing home to
douche might actually MAKE you pregnant!  Settle down!"  He caressed her
suddenly fevered brow.  "Relax and enjoy what you're doing - we both waited a
long time for it!"

	Marion quivered.  "I can't raise a child by myself again - I just
can't!"

	Aaron soothed, "There are other options.  Besides, has anything
changed?  Have you found any grounds for incompatibility between us?"

	"Huh?"  Marion worked to trade mental horses in mid-stream.  "Uh, no!"

	Aaron shrugged.  "Then it's a non-issue.  Even if we were to discover
we despised each other, if you conceived one of MY offspring, and carried it
to term, you would NOT raise it alone, I assure you!"

	Marion relaxed some, despite herself.  "Well, we shouldn't tempt
fate..."

	"True."  Aaron stopped to nibble her left nipple, which moved her
further from panic.  "Prophylactics are...  unsatisfactory - and unless you
have serious objections, I hope to find myself in this situation fairly
regularly.  Still, if methods of birth control usually applied to the female
are an issue with you, we can discuss it, and, if necessary, I could look into
vasectomy, if the state of our relationship appears to justify it..."

	This offer went far beyond Marion's expectation; it and the buried
assumptions and implications washed over Marion leaving her weak with
gratitude and - what? - fondness, at least.  "I've been on the Pill before - I
can do it again," she replied.  "Besides, I don't think children are a dead
issue with you, yet..."

	Aaron, his usual aplomb fully recovered, eyed her, poker-faced,
"Fading, but not dead.  They might have even seen recent revival..."

	"Um," Marion murmured.  These were deep subjects; she wasn't ready to
discuss them, as yet.  Frankly, neither was Aaron, but certain policy
statements had been demanded by the situation...

	Aaron went back to her nipple for a bit, then rose up and regarded
her, "Happy?"

	"Mmmm, yes, but..."

	"But?"  Aaron's eyes twinkled, and his lips quirked.  How had he known
that there would be a 'but'?

	"You... said things.  You... made ME say things..."  The urgency was
gone; now Marion needed to live with herself.

	...But not delude herself!  "I saw an opportunity to push our
understanding of our roles in this relationship in a direction of my
choosing," he admitted.  "The statements you made were untrue?"

	"Uhhh..."  The impulse to hotly deny faded as rapidly as it had
arrived.  "Um, I was under duress."

	"Yesss," Aaron drew a hand gently down her flank, "I was proving my
point.  Were you made to lie?  Or tell the truth?"

	Marion looked away.  Dammit, she was hot again - and some of it was
the conversation!  "It was...  embarrassing."

	"Uh huh," Aaron agreed, calmly, "Many truths are."

	Marion rounded on him, "If I'm such a slut, howcum..."

	"...You don't have two dozen boyfriends?  Opportunity.  Good sense.
Shyness.  This part of your personality that we're talking about is only one
part of your unique makeup - one masked by several others," Aaron paused,
then, "Let me ask YOU a question.  If, during that second incident in the
Men’s' Room, I'd have pointed to the floor before me, what would you have
done?"

	Marion opened her mouth, closed it.  "You know, don't you?"

	"Yes.  And you do, too - whether it is embarrassing, or not.  That
knowledge is what led me to collect you in the hallway.  I chose not to
subject you to possible public humiliation - but you revealed yourself.  I
want you to learn to live with it.  That masked part of you has its compliment
in a part of me - I plan to see to it that we make the most of the
combination."  Aaron began to move again inside her (something that, frankly,
HE was as surprised about as SHE was!), and murmured, "Now about the truth...
You know, while it may be embarrassing to you, I take it as quite the
compliment - and as long as you belong to ME, what others think isn't
relevant."

	"Um."  Pleasure was back, and thinking was becoming increasingly
difficult.  "Being a slut is...  bad."

	"Nonsense!" Aaron puffed.  "Propaganda put out by frigid women who
don't want to be embarrassed by it!"  A pause for breath, while Aaron set a
rhythm, then he panted, "Every man... wants a...  slut.  His own...
personal...  slut.  A woman to...  be his...  willing vessel...  perfect
mate...  love..."  Aaron shut up - talking was too much work; he had better
uses for his energy.  Maybe he'd started again too soon?  No, it was all
right, he could go a while - if she didn't drag him along with her next time
she came...

	For Marion, the discussion had lost its importance as an item of
interest in the face of the stimulating friction in her vagina and repeated
impacts on her quivering clitoris.  She began hunching herself, driving up to
help Aaron find that sweet spot that they both knew was there, deep in her -
all they had to do was to keep drilling into her depths, looking for it...
All she needed was...

	... Aaron's hands on her turgid nipples, or his lips on her neck!
Aaron delivered both in the next few moments, and Marion became frenzied as he
hit the button again and again and again, "AAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!
NNNNNNNNNNNG!!!  NNNG!   NNNG!"  This one was BIG!  Marion's eyes rolled up
and she undulated - and suddenly, Aaron was soaked!  Pubes, lower belly -
there was a squirt to it, too!  It wasn't urine, it was...  something else.
Pussy juice?  Female ejaculation...  Damn!  Aaron shook his head in wonder,
managing somehow to keep going.

	The grand mal nature of the orgasm left Marion totally washed out.
She went limp, wasted, totally pliant while Aaron went looking for his own
pleasure, certain that she would not rise again.  After a bit, she gathered
energy to caress him with arms leached of strength; the only word she managed
to wrench out was "Cum!"  Worries about such esoterica as birth control were
beyond her, in this state - primitive Marion wanted her mate's seed, period!

	Aaron found the perfect rhythm, and the perfect angle - the perfect
fit - and, in a very few strokes, found his peak, buried, and spent himself.
The look on Marion's face was priceless, bliss.  Even as Aaron's weight
settled upon her, her eyes drifted shut.

	Aaron crashed and burned, too, and it was after one a.m. before an
urgency in his bladder returned him to consciousness.  Marion slept on,
apparently unbothered by the weight of her human blanket.  Gently, he
extracted himself, marveling at the ability of both of them to sleep in the
wet puddle of their mixed juices.  On his return from the bathroom, he stood
there, gazing down at his conquest.  Little Marion was quite the picture,
slim, taut - boyish, maybe, but a boy, NEVER!  The spiky nipples had receded
to the flat of her areolae, but he'd seen them, touched them, tasted them.
Reaching out, he caressed her flank, and she writhed, murmuring.  God, she was
sweet!  And she looked barely fifteen at nearly forty!  "Marion," he murmured,
"I need you with me for a moment...  Can you stay the night, or must you
leave?"

	"Mmmm?"  Marion swam up to consciousness, trying hard to work bleary
eyes.  She'd always been a heavy sleeper.  Wow!  What a dream she'd had!  And
she felt like she'd abused herself pretty seriously, sated but sore.  Probably
fell asleep with the vibrator, and sucked dry a whole set of batteries...  The
blur before her resolved itself into a face, a bearded face!  The world
returned, but the sense of unreality remained, "Aaron?"

	"Mmm hmmm," Aaron smiled, caressed her cheek.  "Did you hear me
before?  It's one a.m.; can you stay, or must you leave?"

	Marion cudgeled her brain.  Twyla...  "I should...  probably go home,
(damn!)"  Sighing, she sat up, got her feet on the floor, and rose on shaky
legs.  Twenty minutes later, still shaky, she kissed Aaron good night and
staggered to her car.