Chapter 7: Blackout
Paul flicked through the channels with disinterest. Slouching in his seat, he rested his face on his hand as he scrolled through each channel, pausing briefly on the weather report.
"...and this afternoon, severe thunderstorms are expected to roll into the area, bringing heavy rains and lightning expected to last until after midnight..."
Almost as if on cue, Paul jumped a little as a boom of thunder echoed through his brain, nature using the ringing in his brain to sneak in the sounds of torrential rainfall hitting the windows. Paul picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear, making sure the dial tone was still there.
Paul set the receiver back on its' cradle, curious as to where Marge was. After their encounter in the kitchen, he expected some kind of confrontation once she had regained her senses, the "never again" speech or the "how dare you" speech. He was ready for it. After she didn't appear after ten minutes, he began checking the phone on a regular basis to make sure she wasn't calling the cops, her cell phone still in its' resting place by the front door.
He flipped the channel again with a sigh, and as if by providence, another bolt of lightning struck, shaking the windows on the house as the television screen flashed and went dead with every other light and device in the house.
"Oh great," Paul muttered. Now he'll have to check all his cameras for short circuiting.
Standing up, Paul grabbed a flashlight out of the kitchen drawer as he headed through the dim house towards the basement, the rain and the overcast sky painting the entire house in a deep hue of blue-gray. With the flashlight's help, Paul made it down the basement stairs and over to the fuse box, making sure it wasn't just a blown fuse.
Nope, looks like a total power outage.
After taking a moment to examine the room (particularly an unusually large tiki head in the corner,) Paul headed back upstairs. As he got back into the hallway, he set the flashlight down and wandered into the foyer when he noticed a figure standing at the large bay window in the sitting room, staring out into the rain outside.
Marge stared silently, her arms crossed. Her blue hair was down, clinging tightly to her body as if she had just gotten out of the shower without drying it. Her cotton pink robe was damp from absorbing the moisture from her body. Paul was unable to make out her features in the dark as he walked into the room.
"Sit down Paul," Marge stated rather forcefully. Paul couldn't tell if she was angry or not as he blinked in confusion. Out of all the reactions he expected, this was not one of them. Deciding to see where this goes, Paul took a seat in the recliner directly across from Marge and the window. With her back to him, her features became even more indistinguishable against the faint light drifting in through the window.
"Paul...you have been more helpful to me than I could have asked from anyone since my husband left...more than a tenant should be to his landlord..."
Paul cocked his head, experiencing uncertainty for the first time.
"...Maggie and Lisa should be home in a few hours...when they get home, you will still be my tenant, and I will still be your landlord...understand?"
Paul blinked, unsure where this was going. "Of course," he replied.
Marge uncrossed her arms, drawing the curtains closed. Though the view of the outside was blocked, the dim light still silhouetted against her figure. Her arms dropped down, bringing her hands in front of her around her hips.
A flash of lightning illuminated Marge's form as she turned and faced Paul. Her face was not one of anger, or fear, or indignation.
Paul suppressed a grin. All he saw painted on her face was unbridled lust and desire.
Marge took a step forward, her long, firm leg emerging from the slit of her robe. The skin shimmered gently in the flash, her toes pressing against the carpet as Paul found himself gripping the arm of the chair slightly. She sashayed her hips with every teasing, sensual step, her hands slowly undoing the knot of her robe sash.
"But for now," Marge whispered as she leaned over him, the edges of her lips teasing his ear as the smell of her perfume filled his nose. "...I am just a woman, thanking a man for everything he has done for her."
Paul gripped the arms of his chair tighter, resisting the urge to put his hands on her to see what Marge had in mind. This didn't fit in to his plan and method for control..."but a little fun never hurt," he reasoned to himself.
Marge released her grip on her robe, the knot loosened but not undone. Placing her hands on Paul's broad shoulders, Marge nibbled on his ear lobe as she drew her body downward, her loose robe yielding a generous helping of her cleavage for Paul to admire.
Drawing herself down, Marge traced her hands down the front of his body as she got on her knees between his legs, her hands clasping the band of his jeans. With expert precision, her deft fingers alleviated Paul's pants of their clasping, slowly unzipping them as she took a deep whiff of his musky scent. Pulling back, Marge grasped the band of his underwear along with Paul's jeans and pulled them down, her lowering arms causing her robe to slip off her shoulder, revealing even more of her ample bust to Paul's hungry view.
Marge sat in shock and almost a little intimidation at the size of Paul's erection. Over her past years of marriage, she had become accustomed to Homer's...substandard size. As she drew her face in closer, she closed her eyes as she steadied the shaft with her hand, lightly kissing the base as she caressed the hilt with her tongue.
As Paul groaned in satisfaction at her work, Marge grew bolder as she cupped his testicles with her free hand, her other hand starting a slow and delicate stroking of his upper shaft as she suckled a little bit on the flesh of his penis. Rising up, she drew her tongue up the length of his member as she came to the mushroom-shaped tip, kissing it gently as her hand stroked him more firmly as it dropped down his length.
As Marge wrapped her lips around the tip of his erection, she could feel it pulsing in her mouth. She drew her lips up and down on the head, suckling lightly as she felt Paul shift and squirm in front of her. She felt Paul's hand touch the top of her head, stroking it lightly as it helped guide her strokes, her fingers flexing around his hard on.
With every stroke of her mouth, Marge brought a little more of him into his mouth, surprising herself with her ability to accommodate his length and girth. Paul positioned both of his hands more to the sides, clenching her hair in his fingers as he began forcefully guiding her strokes. Marge gagged a little as his penis invaded her throat more and more, her eyes popping open in shock and wonder as her lower lip began grazing the flexible skin of his ball-sack.
Placing her hands on his thighs to steady herself, Marge's fingernails dug into Paul's flesh, her muffled moan vibrating against his member as she quickened her pace. Filthy slurping sounds became louder as her spit began leaking from the sides of her mouth, which was stretched to capacity as she felt his penis press against the back of her throat, her body bending and sliding to accept the organ down the shaft of her throat.
Marge's gag reflex wailed in agony as Paul pushed her face into his crotch, his pubic hairs tickling her nose as he stood, feeling him pulsing inside her neck. Her moans became louder as her body began to squirm from the lack of air. As Paul drew his shaft back slowly to the tip, her lungs hungrily gulped air through her nose and mouth.
Gripping her head tightly, Paul thrust himself as far as he could into Marge's throat, her arms going limp at her sides as she lost all semblance of control. As his forceful thrusts repeatedly violated her throat, Marge's eyes rolled back as she moaned a gargled gasp of pleasure as the world began to melt around her from her erratic, limited oxygen supply, tears rolling from her face more on reflex than pain or sadness.
With a final push, Paul pressed his pelvis forward to get as much penetration as he could as he climaxed, the pulsing member in Marge's throat throbbing as she gagged on his ejaculate, feeling his hot seed splash into her throat and slide into her stomach. As her world began to go dark, Paul retracted his erection, a few more spurts of cum shooting onto Marge's face as her body hungrily gulped for air.
Falling onto her hands, Marge breathed heavily as her body became reacquainted with air. After catching her breath, without a word she looked up at Paul with only one thing on her face.
A desire for more.
Her skin burned with the heat of desire as she slowly stood, wiping the cum from her face with her robe sleeve. As Paul kicked the pants bundled at his feet off, she brushed her body against his, removing the last few knots holding her robe closed. As it fell open, exposing her midriff and her freshly shaved pubis, Marge took a step backwards as Paul pulled his shirt over his head. While not super-cut, Marge smiled with lust as she admired his toned chest and firm arms.
Turning around, her back was to Paul as he got the shirt over his head, tossing it across the couch. Dropping her arms, Marge allowed her robe to collapse to the ground, the steady drone of the rain accenting the flash of lightning that silhouetted her figure, her firm, tight ass swaying gently as if performing a dance of seduction.
Paul grinned as he considered the good choice he made for his scheme. Despite bearing three children and being in her late thirties, Marge's body was an incredible specimen, just enough fat to give her some curve without being flabby. She turned around and faced him again, her nipples already erect, the slight sheen from the juices leaking from her sex catching the corner of Paul's eye as the lightning flashed.
The booming thunder filled Marge's ears as she caressed her ample, voluminous breasts, pressing them together as she re-approached the man, silently bidding him to partake of the bounty she was offering him. Not needing to ask twice, Paul pressed her body against his, Marge shivering as she felt his hardness press against her abdomen as it became sandwiched between their bodies. Pushing forward, Marge was leaned backwards as she threw an arm around Paul's neck, his head craning down as he kissed the top of the crevasse of her cleavage
Her breasts shifted to the side from the gravity, giving Paul more room to work with as his expert tongue traced the contours of her central chest with a practiced touch, eliciting a low moan from Marge. Her mind tried valiantly to regain control of the situation, however after so many years of marriage to a man who, in Marge's mind, cared only for his pleasures, she was loving every second of this man who catered to her desires, and though she was loathe to admit it vocally, Marge was a woman who took great pleasure from her breasts being attended to.
She inhaled deeply through gritted teeth as Paul's hands went back to work, one wrapping around her waist to keep her close to him, the other snaking up her side and wrapping itself around her quivering mound, flexing the fatty tissue firmly in its' expert grip, stretching and compressing the sensitive nerve endings as he suckled on the flesh in the middle, sending waves of pleasure across Marge's chest and up and down her spine.
As her pleasure grew, Marge subconsciously began to reassert her control as she let out a ragged groan of pleasure, standing straight as she pushed Paul away from her and back into his seat. As Paul bounced lightly in the chair, Marge gave him a seductive glance as her body writhed into the seat with him, kneeling on the cushion as she felt his erection pressed down, using the crack of her ass as a guide as she sat flat upon his lap, his shaft cradled by the pulsing lips of her labia.
Marge pressed her chest up towards Paul's face as she grasped the seat's back, his hands tracing around her hips as they rose up clamped firmly on her supple, soft hills, her rock-hard nipples popping between his fingers as he kneaded them like a cat pawing in gratitude for a good scratch.
Marge threw her head back with a satisfied "Mmmmmmm" behind her tightly-sealed lips, her pussy sliding on his shaft, spreading its' juices on his member as her body wriggled under his practiced hands. She cooed as her back arched, her body flexing with the pulses of pleasure he was inflicting on her. As he squeezed her nipples between his fingers, Marge returned the squeeze to his hips through her legs, beads of sweat forming all over her body.
"ooooh...now suck them..."
Part of Marge was genuinely shocked at her request. She was surprised at what this man who was not Homer was drawing out of her, concerns that were quickly eradicated when the raven-haired young man that now attended to her fulfilled her request. The rapport of the rain on the bay window grew louder as he drew her closer, his mouth enclosing about her areola and suckling firmly, her erect nipple squeezed against the roof of his mouth.
"...no...more...the whole thing..."
Any demure restraints Marge had on her fetish were gone now as she pressed her chest to Paul's face, feeling his heavy breathing escape through his nose on her skin as his mouth opened wider, accepting as much of her tit into his mouth as she could fit. She yelped in ecstasy as his mouth made its' subtle adjustments to the sweet, sweaty mound now filling it, his sucking motions increasing in force as every pinch and compression of her breast brought forth a new cry of pleasure.
Marge's body moved on instinct now, her hips grinding fiercely against the length of his member, shuddering as she swore she felt the tip of her nipple graze the back of his throat. She emitted a high-pitched cry as she felt her supple flesh pulse against his teeth, pinching down as he formed a strong suction hold on her breast, tugging it back. Marge yelped and moaned passionately as her hands gripped his shoulders, gritting her teeth as his other hand dug into her free breast at the base, grabbing tightly and pulling up and away.
Marge hugged his head as she howled in pleasure, her entire body shaking as her orgasm wracked her body and senses. Paul felt a squirt of fluid against his erection as her hips pressed down tightly on him, and taking it as a signal, released her breasts from his hands and mouth with a wet, indecent popping sound. Marge's chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing, her hot chest quivering against his face.
To Paul's surprise, Marge withdrew from his lap, his erection standing back up, glistening from her juices in the lightning flash. Still ahold of his shoulders, Marge seemed to pull him up, and in one fell swoop, practically threw him onto the couch. By the time he looked up, Marge had re-mounted him, teasing the tip of his pole with her quivering, fleshy lips as she placed her hands on his abdomen for support, her thoroughly-pleasured breasts heaving with every lusty, hungry breath she took.
Swiveling her hips to draw him more on target, all it took was a light push, and she inserted him into herself.
As the tip of his penis slid into her, Marge threw her head back, closing her eyes as her body quivered, the long-absent sensation of a warm, pulsing phallus inside her nearly sending her back into orgasm. She let out a long, drawn out moan as she slowly took in his full length, gasping as she felt her insides adjust as his penis pressed up against her womb. Her body writhed slowly as she settled atop him, her arms coming up behind her head as she fluffed out her hair, a satisfied grin crossing her face as her chest protruded out from her arch.
Placing her hands in front of her on his abdomen, Marge began slowly drawing her hips up and down, feeling his member slide in and out of her womanly chamber. A guttural "Aaaah" emitted from her throat as she grinned from the sensation, her slow, rhythmic bouncing exciting her nerves as she felt her body melt into a singular existence of pleasure.
Paul placed his hand on her gyrating hips, his grip guiding the strokes of her body as he grunted in satisfaction. Marge clasped her breasts in the palm of her hands and squeezed, pulling them gently apart from each other as her humping picked up speed and forcefulness, obscene noises from their thrusting filling their ears between the thunderclaps.
Marge's impassioned utterances began to become nonsensical as her hair bobbed with the rhythm of her body, her head rolling on her neck seemingly in sync with the rolling of her breasts in her hands. She felt her ass slapping against his thighs, the two orbs below his shaft tickling her nethers. She arched her back further as additional waves of ecstasy traveled from her engorged sex up her back, her hands grasping his thighs as her parted breasts flopped with her every thrust of his pelvis into hers, and vice versa.
Paul felt the walls of Marge's entrance tighten around his member. He grasped her hips to keep her steady as she threw her head back in delight, her hair flying around her in the thunderlight as her scream of ecstasy was drowned out by the echoing clap. Her body spasmed as waves of pleasure rushed up her spine, her eyes rolling back slightly as she lurched her form forward, her gaze fixating on the young man who continued to work under her.
Marge grunted her instructions out through gritted teeth, burying her face into his neck as her senses struggled to process Paul's continued physical persistence, the overload only complicated as her breasts exploded in a fire of stimulation as they rubbed against his body. He gritted his teeth as his grip tightened along with her own, her long blue locks falling into his eyes.
Without a word, Paul stopped moving and began to sit up. Marge drew back a little, her eyes opening in surprise as he gently withdrew her off him, his hands gripping her on the shoulders.
"I'm not done yet."
Marge squeaked, her eyes opening wider, partially from fear, partially from wonder as Paul roughly moved her from the couch, falling with her onto the floor. Marge felt the soft fabric of her robe under her head as she looked up at him, his hands sliding down her body, his fingers leaving a trail of electric sensation down her skin. Gripping her legs, he brought them over his shoulders as he reinserted. Marge bit her lip, her pulsating sex clasping around him as he pushed back in.
Her toes curled as her feet bounced in the air in rhythm with his body, his movements orchestrating a symphony of noise and sensation in her mind. As Paul reached forward and balanced himself by grasping her breasts, Marge moaned loudly as her fingers curled into the carpet, the sound of his sweat-laden body slapping against hers piercing through her senses more than the storm outside. Her abdomen screamed in heat at her as her eyes rolled back into her head, her back arching under him as she was overcome again with orgasm.
Gritting his teeth, Paul withdrew from Marge as her insides spasmed around him, releasing her legs as her body convulsed in an overload of ecstasy below him. Gripping his member in his hand, Paul gave it a few swift strokes to finish himself off as he sprayed his ejaculate across her heaving chest, his own groan joining Marge's panting.
The two remained still for a moment as the power flickered back on, Marge's gaze locked at the ceiling as her mind struggled to bring her body back under control. Paul's grip relaxed as he stood, panting, looking down at the exhausted woman below him, white strands of his sperm rising and falling with her heaving chest, her legs bent as her feet found firm planting on the carpet below her, her robe gripped tightly in her fist.
"Remember," she stammered between her breaths, "...from now on...landlord..."
"And tenant," Paul finished. He gathered his clothing and drew his fatigued body up the stairs, heading for the shower.
"We'll see how long that lasts," he muttered under his breath.