48. Morning After
Marcy woke in her own room. The sun, shining blindingly from around the edges of the block out curtains, finally disturbed her rest. She had dreamed of her mother again, but her mom had only been smiling happily at her. Was her vision of her mother a reflection of her own mind? Because Marcy was incredibly happy.
She checked the bedside digital clock. Nine-thirty!
Jesus! I slept in!
Jumping out of bed, she realized that she was stark naked and chuckled. No nightgown last night. That made it easier as she ran the shower to the right temperature, and hopped in.
Marcy gasped as hot water pulsed down on her skin. Parts of her body were sore, inner thighs, breasts, nipples and also deep inside. Perhaps not really sore. More like that feeling one gets the next day after a lot of exercise. A pleasant stiffness. Kind of a well-used sensation.
Marcy shut her eyes and took a deep breath at that.
Used. Yes. The idea of being well used again, real soon, made her blood heat.
Marcy's lips curled into the ear to ear grin of a lunatic as she thought of Mike. She recalled the intensity in his eyes, and his determined expression. The overpowering way he looked at her with lust, and love, and raw masculine delight. Mike made her feel beautiful… and sexy, too.
Images and sensations from the evening before floated through her mind. It seemed that her inability to orgasm was a thing of the past. She trusted Mike. With him she had finally felt safe enough to embrace her sexuality. That perfect, lovable man had totally set her free. The euphoria and joy of it sang blissfully through her, body, heart and soul.
I'm such a wanton. I'm such an insatiable slut! Marcy mused, and that truth made her incredibly happy.
Because she was running late she hurried her shower and got dressed quickly in her black maid's uniform. It was Saturday, but Gustave had asked her to come in for two hours, to help serve a sort of farewell lunch for a few of André's guests that were leaving Las Vegas today.
Dressed, she walked out into the family room. Mike and Katie were playing Connect Four in the family room. The Christmas tree lights were off, but the smell and sight of it still filled the room. Those two were so absorbed that it wasn't until her pumps clicked on the kitchen tiles that they looked up.
"Hi, mom!" Katie said. "I beat Mike once already."
Marcy laughed. "Good for you," she said.
Mike's firm lips curved up into an adorable wry smile. "Hi, mom," he said softly, and stood up to greet her.
God damn he looked good. Mike's muscles were toned from swimming. He wore a white form fitting button down cotton shirt that accented his torso and tapered waist. His black jeans only complemented his perfect shape. His beautiful face was so familiar to her now, the mischief in his eyes, thin lips and quirky smile.
Memories of last night flooded her mind. The scent, taste and sight of him. The feel of his strong arms holding her, his hard body against her softer one, his tongue, his lips and mouth.
Marcy's face and neck heated with a pink flush of arousal. She bit off a moan before it could leave her throat.
He arched a knowing brow. "Okay?"
Her mouth dry, she could only nod.
Mike went to her, took her in his arms, and with his lips near her ear he whispered, "I've missed you." Those soft heartfelt words were more seductive than a romantic setting with wine and a candlelight dinner.
Marcy melted.
Then there she was, receiving a hug and a press of lips in a sweet morning kiss. It was the first time Mike had kissed her in front of Katie. It was the first time she had allowed it. But while his touch seared her with desire, it also seemed completely natural.
Katie's eyes were wide as Mike turned toward her.
"I'm completely nuts over your mom, Katie. You know that, right?"
Katie giggled shyly. "Yes. I knew that."
"Good," Mike said, and walked into the kitchen still smiling. "I have banana pancakes ready for you, sleepy head. Are you hungry?" He poured her a coffee, and added milk and sugar, exactly how she liked it. "Here." He handed it to her. "Take a seat."
Marcy sat at the kitchen counter while he got out her breakfast. "Did you sleep well?" he asked with a not so innocent expression on his face.
"When I slept," she scoffed playfully. "My rest was interrupted… a number of times I might add."
"Oh? How many times was it interrupted?"
She crossed her arms. Tilting her head, she put one finger against her lips in considering, teasing manner. Then her gaze met his and she snickered. "I'm afraid that I lost count."
Mike's eyes danced but he couldn't contain his wicked grin. "I'll bring a scorecard next time."
They made plans for the day. Mike had arranged to visit with his sister, Janice, so that Katie could play with her kids, Madison and Sarah. Katie was bright-eyed and in high spirits over the plan. Marcy would text Mike when she was leaving work. She enjoyed breakfast, kissed them both goodbye and left for work.
Her little Neon started immediately, mainly because she had finally gotten the poor thing serviced. She took off the hand brake, backed out of the garage, and drove off. The sweetness of that happy domestic scene lingered, filling her senses.
Mike wanted to buy her a red Audi RS 5 Cabriolet convertible, nut case that he was. He had gone into long explanations about how he would really be getting it for himself, because he wanted a sports car – but she could use it. He also said that her Neon was an embarrassment. Would she mind very much if he traded it in?
She shook her head. He would probably get his way. If the man had one flaw it was that he nagged.
Mike loved her and wanted to marry her. How had this all happened so quickly? From a woman who avoided men, and sex, Marcy was now the complete opposite. Mike had snuck into her life and stolen her heart.
The sky was crystal clear and a cool 45 degrees. Another beautiful winter's day in Nevada. Stopping at a red light, Marcy realized that she was in a happy kind of mindless daze. Her unstoppable grin was making her face ache.
What was wrong with her? But she knew there was nothing wrong. All was right in her world.
I'm in love, wondrous, incredible, extraordinary, joyous, head over heels in love.
Mike had swept her off her feet. This time, love was nothing like her younger crush with Trent. It was a fuller, more reasoned form of adoration on both sides. Mike was not pretending his affection. There was no ulterior motive. He loved her, and her daughter, Katie, too.
Marcy remembered what his mother had told her: "Mike has always been caring and considerate. He's a good son. A man who is good to his mother will also be good to his wife."
The light changed and she accelerated. Why was the subject of children so sensitive, she wondered? Marcy wanted more children. Specifically she wanted to have Mike's child. But was he incapable? The one time she brought it up he had looked pained and avoided the subject. Maybe he worried that she wouldn’t marry him if he was sterile? Well, that wasn't the case.
Marcy wondered when Mike would ask her again to marry her again. Today perhaps? Yes, today for sure. He told that he wanted to marry her all the time.
She shook her head, a wry grin curling her lips. The annoying, determined man. He pestered. He hounded. He nagged until he got his way.
I find it hard to say no to him anyway, Marcy mused, and a little shiver of remembered pleasure ran through her.
She breathed out in a happy sigh. This time when he asked her to marry him, Marcy might torment him a little, with pretended indecision. But then, without any doubts or reservations, she would say yes.
49. Lunch
Marcy heard classical music, laughter, and a conversational buzz coming from André's elegant dining room. She was the only waitress for eight people. It was Saturday and most of André's staff had the day off. She worked with Gustave – who was always there it seemed – and Pascal the Chef, and his wife, Anne.
André was dressed even more formally than usual i
n a silk shirt and tailored masculine suit. Hot damn that man sure knew clothes. Everything about him screamed, "Super sexy, in control, guard your heart and cross your legs girls! This guy is pure alpha male."
The moment Marcy met André's eyes from across the room, she knew - that he knew.
Her breath stopped as his gaze met hers. Had Mike told him that she had finally managed to climax? How? When? Or was that amazing Frenchman just that observant?
Her heart kicked and her mouth went dry. Oh, he definitely knew that she had finally managed to orgasm alright. How did he communicate so much with just one fleeting look? André's expression said, "Congratulations!" "Well done!" and "I knew you could do it!" all rolled into one knowing glance.
Marcy responded without hesitation with a cheeky triumphant grin.
Standing beside a client, clearly otherwise engaged, André gave her a slight, yet unquestionably formal bow. His eyes were bright with respect and something else. Pride? Admiration? His gaze locked with hers. For a moment he placed his hand on his heart, signifying the depth of his emotion.
André fully shared the pride and happiness of her achievement.
Her joy was his joy. Her victory was also his.
Marcy's chest tightened and her eyes stung unexpectedly. The way André made her feel, Marcy couldn’t have been more proud of herself than if she had scaled Mt. Everest. No wonder that shrewd Frenchman was so successful at his profession.
A vibrating buzz tingled her thigh from the phone in her pocket. It was a welcome distraction. When she was out of sight of the guests, she checked her messages. The text was from Mike. "I miss you," it said, warming her heart.
Marcy served crepes filled with fresh seafood as an entree. The creamy garlic and herb sauce was finished under the grill with Gruyere cheese. It was to die for. The menu went on with Cassoulet de Toulouse, which was some sort of slow cooked casserole with white beans and duck.
A Cougar Dom sat at the table beside her male sub that was probably twenty years younger than her. Gazing at her with undisguised adoration, the young man had clearly found everything he needed in the older woman. Well good for them, Marcy thought. Men married women twenty years younger, why not the other way around?
She saw that Jennifer Whittington and her husband Charles were also dining. Their intimate glances and constant touching gave proof of the success of their counseling. They had that "just married" and very much in love look.
Marcy walked into the kitchen bringing back empty plates in preparation for the second course.
"Non!" Pascal said in a raised voice, followed by a string of French. This earsplitting incomprehensible speech used to worry her. Now she knew better.
Another loud burst of incomprehensible French met her ears as Anne, Pascal's wife, let her husband have the back of her tongue. "Do not concern yourself, Marcy," she said, nudging Pascal. "He is the imbecile when he cooks."
"D'accord! You are both true culinary artists." Marcy gave them a graceful curtsy. "The Chef is never wrong, and neither is his wife. I'm honored to work with you."
Anne quickly translated this for Pascal who gave her a mid-torso half bow over his stove, with a large approving smile. It hadn't taken long for Marcy to figure out how best to get along with André's staff. They were all unique and eccentric - or maybe they were just French?
Every day she worked was an adventure. She felt like she was on vacation in another country.
Her cell phone vibrated again, and there were two messages. One from Katie, "Can I spend the night with my friends?" and "I have a surprise for you," from Mike.
She texted back "Sure, have fun," to Katie. She sent, "I miss you too, and look forward to my surprise," to Mike.
When the meal finished, the company had moved into the living area for after-lunch post-coffee brandy, cocktail or liquor. Marcy took orders, made drinks and served.
"Jennifer," André said to Jennifer Whittington as she walked by. "May I introduce you to Marcy Paget? Marcy, Jennifer. Jennifer, Marcy. Marcy is a valued member of my staff. She watched the video of us together," he added, stunning Marcy into an awkward speechlessness.
The unexpected bombshell caused Jennifer to flinch ever so slightly. Well mannered, the woman hid her chagrin and smiled, putting her hand out. Marcy took it in hers. It was cool and dry.
"I leave you both to chat," he said and strode off to talk to another guest.
Marcy took a deep breath and jumped in. She had wanted to talk to Jennifer. That mind-reading André must have known. "I'm glad he introduced us. I just wanted to tell you that you've been an inspiration to me."
"Oh?" Surprise lit her hazel eyes.
"Absolutely. You were so brave to try something so different – so out of culturally accepted norms. May I ask, were you satisfied with Mr. Chevalier's efforts?"
Jennifer's laugh was lighthearted. "Oh my Lord, you did see the video didn't you? Can you imagine not being satisfied?"
Marcy giggled. Jennifer explained all the bottled up communication that she and her husband, Charles hadn't spoken about. One wanted what one wanted. Where was the sin in that? Kink had brought their sex life back to them both. Now they were having fun in bed, and were happier than ever together.
"That André," Jennifer said. "The things he does to push your comfort levels! You watching that video, André making it, and then getting us together to discuss it! Society as a whole would commit us all. But again, where's the wrong?"
"Tell me about it," Marcy said. "I've changed all my 'now I am supposed to' ideas since I started working here. It's been cathartic." She shook her head. "That video of you and André gave me a lot to think about."
"I'm glad it did you some good, Marcy. It is as if the general public views sex one way and André Chevalier sees the subject with liberal, more balanced and carefree eyes. I know which view I think is sane."
Marcy agreed. She talked about how she had never had an orgasm. After seeing Jennifer be brave enough to slay her dragons, it had inspired Marcy to pursue her own sexual goals. She confided that she had experienced her first orgasm just last night.
"Oh, good for you!" Jennifer toasted her success.
"It was the honesty and intimacy in that video that I found so attractive," Marcy said. "The sex was off the charts, too, don’t get me wrong." She raised her eyebrows and grinned. "But until recently I've never known that kind of connection with another."
"For me, too," Jennifer said. "Taboos give one so many valid reasons to be false, to oneself and to everyone else, not to mention to a married partner."
"It seems difficult, but once you face the 'big secrets' and discuss them, they just don't seem that big a deal," Marcy agreed.
The two women sat down together and had a frank conversation, in a way that Marcy had never done with any woman before. They discussed submission and Domination, love, marriage, sex and children.
They left firm friends, exchanging phone numbers. Jennifer introduced her to Charles, and told her that they had a big house. If Marcy ever came to Boston, they would love to have her, Katie and Mike stay. Marcy just knew that Mike would be on board with that plan.
When Marcy was about to leave to come home, she checked her phone. Mike had texted, "I can't wait until you get home."
She sent off, "I'm coming now."
He instantly replied, "No you aren't… but you will be."
She snickered, but a flush of heat flared through her with those words. She hadn't seen Mike for hours. How would it be when she saw him again? Would she feel embarrassed? Shy? Nervous? She liked her relationship with Mike. Marcy didn’t want sex to ruin what they had.
Marcy took off her white apron, keeping her black uniform dress on. Well, she would soon find out.
Her stomach fluttered with the knowledge that he was only thirty minutes away. Her breath quickened. Just the thought of Mike made her wet. Heavy sexual heat pooled low in her lower belly when she imagined his 'hello, I missed you' kiss.
And just what was her sur
prise?
50. Passion
The automatic garage door slid up, and Marcy parked her little Neon in Mike's double garage right next to his BMW. Her stomach churned with excitement. Mike is home and Katie is at his sister's house.
The sound of Alanis Morissette singing 'Jagged Little Pill' came through to her. A classic. As she went through the connecting doors to the hall, she saw Mike.
He was barefoot, in distressed blue jeans, with his shirt off. His sculpted upper body was all toned male muscle. Marcy wanted to run her hands through the coarse hair of his chest. Yet it was his beautiful face and heated expression that drew her.
His eyes darkened. Love flared in the pupils of those brown eyes… and raw hunger. For her.
Time stopped.
Mike.
An invisible force pulled them together. They met each other with a grunt of contact. Their bodies joined, desperately pressing against each other. They were like two powerful magnets that had been pried apart, and had linked together seamlessly once more.
Her response was primal: Burning! Yearning! Desire!
The need Marcy had for him was nothing like she had ever experienced. It swept straight through her in an electric rush, sparking sensations and emotions, heating her veins. She had worried that she may be shy. She feared that a lifetime of inhibitions could have returned. Would she tense up when she next saw him?
Instead she had turned all Jane to his Tarzan.
Mike's hands clamped upon her hips, his mouth covered hers. God, he felt amazing. Marcy drank from him, yielding and opening to his lips and tongue. She was drunk on their passion, intoxicated by his erotic male scent. The bulge of his erection pressed with determined demand, hard against her.
"Mike," she moaned, whimpering and writhing with naked need. Her hands roamed across his chest and back. She opened her mouth to kiss his skin but ended up biting his shoulder instead.
Why was she so frantic? Marcy felt like a wild animal. This reaction was so unexpected. Hadn’t she just had the best sex of her life last night? Where was this all-consuming sexual tension coming from? Wherever it was from, it was building fast.