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"Not much," Emma drawled in that dykey monotone of hers. "Heard
you had a live-in girlfriend."
Marnie unshouldered the parka, leaned onto the bar to give Emma a glimpse of her own more modest cleavage. Her pear-shaped breasts showed down the front of her loose-fitting Mohair sweater. "Well, it didn't work out."
Marnie turned around, sat on the orange shag, brought her knees up to her chest.
Emma hovered over her, stroked her hair. Marnie reached up, ran her knuckles
along the side of Emma's face. "That was incredible."
Over her shoulder, Marnie could see Emma lick the pussy juices from her fingers.
She returned her fingers to Marnie's cunt, pushing them in as deeply as she
could. Marnie grunted raper and began to rock. After several rape movies thrusts,
Emma added a third finger and fucked Marnie harder and faster. Throughout the
day she worked, chopping, dicing, mincing. Her sex movies knife and spirit sang
for the first time since Laura's departure. Baker's chocolate anal rape movies
bubbled. Eggs, cream and sugar dallied under her spoon. Her thoughts were on
Sheldon, the ripe mouth, those buxom breasts, that wonderful ass out of her,
slapped her bottom again. "That's right, Baby. Momma knows."
Marnie slid a hand across the table and ran her orange fingernails up and down
Sheldon's forearm. The hairs were so fine and pale they would have been invisible
but for the way they reflected the dance floor lights. "Yeah, I think,"
Marnie cooed. "I think you should let me make you dinner on Valentine's
Day."
"Sure," Marnie said, suddenly ashamed of the obviousness of her come
on, but unable to resist all the same. It was getting late, even for a Saturday,
the crowd thinning. Last call was just around the corner.
"When are you off?" Marnie meant it as a discreet whisper, but it came out too loud. A woman two seats over raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly into her drink. Maybe she'd been where Marnie was tonight. A blizzard arrived on Monday, closing down O'Hare and bringing the city to a standstill. Marnie passed the time alone on the sofa, reading old copies of Gourmet and making up recipes of her own. Only five day's left until teen rape Valentine's Day and no one to share it with, no one to share her recipe for chocolate creme brulee, no one to share the chocolate souffle and raspberry sauce.
To make matters worse, everywhere she turned she found reminders of Laura. Her signature soap in the soap dish. A U of I t-shirt in the hamper. The lubricant they'd used for infrequent rape porn bouts of anal sex under the sink in the bathroom. Sheldon smiled, licked the chocolate liqueur from her swizzle stick as if she were sucking milk off of a nipple. "Desserts are my favorite," she said. "My rape scenes mother used to make these incredible cakes and pies and cookies." "Closing-time. You willing to raped wait?" Marnie's knees gave out and she collapsed on the floor. Emma positioned her on all fours, her rump high in the air, knees wide apart, chin resting on a sofa cushion.
She felt Emma's hands trail the length of her spine, slide between her butt-cheeks, then stroke the burning seam of her pussy. Marnie jerked and Emma laughed, then slapped her behind. Without warning, she slid two fingers into Marnie's movie dripping slit. "Oh, baby," she giggled softly. "You are so fucking wet. You really do need it."
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