Marcie survived the rest of her shift without further harassment from Mr Fumes. When she exited through the service lift, she saw Samson idling in the car, lights on, engine running. The sun had already set by the time they finished work. Marcie looked hollow, her whole body slumped after she got into the passenger seat. She locked the doors, leaned back her hair and let out a long exhalation.
The silence on the way home was oppressive. Usually, they would listen to music or a podcast, but today didn't feel like the right day for that. Samson reached to turn on the radio, but his hand was stopped, Marcie's hand overlaying his.
"Please. No more news."
Samson nodded.
The drive home was slower than the way to work, and the sidewalks were more hectic. The evening rush hour had turned into an open-air brothel. Everywhere Marcie and Samson looked, there were people fucking. In the cars, women were either giving road head to their drivers or jerking off their passengers. There were so many near-collisions and minor fender-benders that they had lost count.
Marcie peered out the window, clutching her seatbelt. She spotted two men at a table in the outdoor garden of a local watering hole. A waitress was on her back between them, completely naked. One man took her mouth while the other man thrusted between her legs. Both men were downing beers. The waitress was practically euphoric. Everyone around them seemed to not take any notice of them. The normalisation was terrifying.
Samson tried to focus on the road. Tried not to look at all the women displaying themselves. It was growing harder each minute. He had guilt written all over his face. Marcie knew it. But her own guilt was crippling.
When they got home, they rushed into their apartment, locking the doors and closing all the blinds. They continued their usual routine: they both got naked and entered the shower together. This time would often devolve into an impromptu makeout session, followed by heavy petting, but today neither of them was feeling it.
Marcie took the loofah and scrubbed her hands… hard. But no amount of washing was getting the feel of Gordon's cock off her hands or out of her head. Samson washed his groin, but Tina's lips were still there, like a phantom, still sucking away at his head. They assist each other, soaping down each other's bodies, but it was industrial, more mechanical than sexy. They left the shower feeling no cleaner than when they entered.
They sat at their small dining table, plastic soldiers replaced with leftovers. Neither of them was up for cooking. Ording takeout was too dangerous.
"I have to tell you something," they said almost in unison.
"You go first." Samson held his breath.
"Gordon…" Marcie pushed around the food on the plate, "he found out his wife was fucking the mailman, said he couldn't focus. He…"
"Jesus… did he make you?"
"We didn't have sex," Marcie was quick to assert, "he just wanted me to 'give him a hand.' So I… I jerked him off. Made sure we kept our clothes on."
"Fuck Marcie, really?"
"I was worried he'd throw me out to the sales floor if I didn't help him out. It was just a handjob. One handjob and I was fine for the rest of the day. I could have been sent out there like a common whore."
"Damn it," Samson slammed the bottom of his fork on the table, "you're right... It was just a handjob?"
"Just a handjob, I didn't even enjoy it." Marcie was uncertain if she was being entirely truthful. There was a certain charm to Gordon, a certain large charm she hadn't expected. "What was it that you wanted to tell me?"
"The floor was hell, like Caligula himself had come back to life," Samson sighed, "Tina…"
"You fucked Tina? That fucking man-stealing slut." Marcie never liked Tina, she obviously had a crush on Samson from day one.
"No, we didn't have sex. Well, we kind of had sex. Is oral sex?"
"It's called oral sex Sam."
"Right, well, I was on a call, and she gave me head."
"And you didn't stop her, why?"
"Because I was closing a Platinum sale… Full Round-the-World package with an upgraded suite… I was afraid that if I put her on hold, I'd lose it."
"Holy shit Sam, that's like several thousand in commission." Marcie momentarily forgot about Samson's indiscretion. Her mind was calculating all the bills they could pay off with that bonus. "That's incredible, no wait. Did you finish?"
"The sale?"
"No, not the sale."
"Yeah… I did."
"Fucking slut, I'm going to rip her apart next time I see her." Marcie was less mad at Samson than she had anticipated. She couldn't fault him, the world was so messed up right now, and he was just trying to bring home bank. Which he did.
"Sorry." Samson apologised.
"You want to apologise?" Marcie stood up and walked towards the bedroom, "I will be waiting on the bed… legs open."
Marcie stripped off her clothes and launched herself onto the bed.
Samson followed Marcie into the bedroom, shedding his clothes as he went. He found her splayed across the duvet, legs spread wide, an invitation and a challenge wrapped into one. The moonlight streaming in from the window caught the curves of her body, the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist. She was on display.
Samson pounced. Despite Tina's earlier blowjob, he was still pent-up from being constantly surrounded by sex.
Marcie pulled Samson towards her, letting the weight of him push her into the mattress. Her mouth found his, and they let the familiarity overtake them. Deep. Hungry. They wanted to possess each other again.
"You're mine," Samson spoke against her lips.
"Prove it."
Samson accepted the challenge. He flipped Marcie over onto her stomach. Marcie barely had time to get her knees underneath her before he was inside of her.
"Oh fuck Sam…" Marcie moaned as the familiar stretch of Samson entering her sent a warmth through her body. He was being more aggressive than usual. Much more.
Smack!
Samson slapped Marcie's ass as he pistoned inside of her. There was no foreplay, no tender whispers, just pure rough sex.
"Fuck!" Marcie gripped the sheets. "Sam!"
Samson increased his pace, his hips snapping forward with enough force to rock the headboard against the wall. Doggystyle was not a common position for the pair, and Marcie took note to change that, being claimed like this was intoxicating. Each thrust made Marcie quiver; he was really going all out. He was doing a good job of making Marcie forget Gordon. Of drowning out the memory of Gordon's thick cock in her hands.
I wonder if he would even fit. Marcie expelled the thought as soon as she thought it. "Harder!" Marcie pushed back against Samson as she pushed back against her thoughts.
Samson obliged. Marcie felt her hair get pulled back. She arched her back as Samson continued to use her pussy. Samson watched Marcie's ass ripple with each impact. This was his. This was his woman. No mandate was going to change that.
"Get up." He pulled out suddenly, leaving Marcie empty and needy. Before she could protest, he hauled her off the bed and pressed her against the wall, lifting both her legs around his hips.
"Sam, what—"
He silenced her with his mouth as he thrust back inside. The angle hit differently. Marcie's back pressed against the wall as he fucked her standing, holding her up by the thighs.
Marcie's nails clawed down Samson's back, leaving red soft red trails. "Sams! god, yes, Sam! Fuck me just like that!"
His. Only his.
"Say my name again." Samson bit down on her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
"Samson!" She screamed it as he hit that spot inside her, the one that made her vision blur. "I'm all yours Sam!"
They stumbled together, still connected, crashing onto the bedroom floor. Marcie landed on top, and she didn't stop riding him. She pushed down hard on his chest, breasts bouncing with each rotation of her hips on his cock. Samson played with her body, squeezing, kneading, and grabbing every bit pleasing bit he could reach.
"I'm close," Marcie panted. She increased her speed chasing that feeling that was building inside of her.
Samson sat up, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. They moved together, bodies pressed. She clenched around him, and he felt his own release building.
"Together," he managed.
Marcie shattered first, her orgasm ripping through her with a force that stole her breath. She cried out Samson's name like a jazz singer, music to Samson's ears. Samson followed a moment later, spilling inside her groan that almost sounded like a roar.
After they both finished, Marcie draped across Samson's chest, both of them gasping for air. The floor was rough against their skin. Neither cared.
For a long moment, neither spoke. Samson lazily played with Marcie's tits. She listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal.
"I love you," Marcie whispered into his chest.
"I love you too." Samson pressed a kiss to the top of her head.