Marge the Goer: Chapter Two
Date Written: January 27/28, 2010
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Marge sat her booty up high on the Church altar, whimpering and short of breath from it.
"It's the only way, Marge," Lovejoy announced, his commanding tone echoing through the empty church that was lit only by the night sky. He waited a moment, hands in prayer, before digging his head in between Marge's thighs.
As the Reverend ate her out, she howled and cried like a misguided wolf. She let the man do what as he pleased, but she wasn't happy about it.
"God forgives you, my child!" Reverend Lovejoy bellowed as he broke free from Marge's most private areas. Areas she'd promised under oath never to share with anyone other than her husband.
It was then that Marge's eyes flew open, free from her dream. One she'd dreamt so often and referred to as a nightmare. Of course, she'd never told anyone of it. Just maybe telling the story would liberate her or give Marge closure, but she'd never felt comfortable enough to resort to it.
She lay in the bed, sweating profusely with the memory of what Lovejoy had done to her. Nevertheless, she was an untruthful, disloyal woman nowadays, sleeping around constantly behind Homer's back.
She blinked her fuzzy eyes open some more and looked to the bedside clock. 5:43. Time for her early morning fuck. She moved with stealth off the bed, like a snake slithering away. Flashes of her dream ran vivid through her head, then more explicit images from the scene. Marge ran into the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet bowl. She hovered over it for a while, hanging her head with shame as she walked vaguely to the hand basin nearby.
"You disgust me, Marge Simpson," she looked up above, into the sinks mirror. "Could've been so much more," she shook her head. It would appear her entire adultery lifestyle was some sort of fabrication, forced upon her, as if she had no choice in the matter. But in reality, that's not how this thing went down. She adored her bang-a-minute life. Fucking friend after friend made her hot at a whole new life. Husband, wife, or husband and wife together, Marge screwed all those that she shouldn't.
And she couldn't deny her true feelings behind it all. Lovejoy might haunt her now, but he was the one to turn her conservative world into a messed up, all-kinds-of-kinky one. If it weren't for him, she'd have remained an unsatisfied wife. And that may not have bothered her if she didn't now see first-hand what such adventures entailed.
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"Just two more minutes for a free medical, Marge. Uh-heh-heh-hehh," Dr. Hibbert chuckled, Marge knelt down at his crotch. His cock was out and she was sucking it like crazy. His pre-cum dribbled down her chin as she took him whole. For a guy of his race, Hibbert wasn't bestowed with the largest penis.
The pair was in Hibbert's office, and had been for the last ten minutes. The doctor's groans and grunts were heard distinctly from the reception desk and waiting room, but not a soul flinched. The hot, brunette receptionist rubbed her panties under the desk, juicing as her boss made yet another patient "happy."
Two old woman, both in their mid to late 70's, and a 20-something year old man waited on the fold-out chairs, each reading their magazines and ignoring the noises of their town's highly-respected medical expert.
Hibbert shouted like a boar as he came, filling Marge's mouth chockablock. She squeezed her tits while swallowing down her doctor's load as best she could.
"Go tell my wife you did well, Marge. Uh-heh-heh-hehh," Hibbert chuckled some more as Marge swiped the back of her hand over her mouth.
She brought her dress back over her boobs, adjusting them into a comfortable place. Marge eyed the clock. 6:28. She would be late for her next sex partner: Bernice Hibbert. See, this was one of those families where Marge acted as a constant. Julius and Bernice were one of Marge's most loyal couples and customers – though keep in mind she done this for free.
Marge didn't say a word as she left Hibbert's office in her sparkling red dress. The same red dress she wore the night before, and now beared numerous cum stains. Very over-dressed, but anyone who knew the line of work Marge now took pride in understood her reasoning well.
Before dashing out of the building, Marge and the receptionist caught eyes. With some subtle hinting so as not to alert the nearby waiting patients, the two women met up in a small room out the back and went at it. Each brought a climax to the other and drank down their lover's cum. It would be quite an amazing sight to see, and it would be the first of many times these two would "cum together."
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Marge rang the doorbell of the Hibberts residence. The low-set house was wonderfully-crafted, inside and out. Nice white brick walls with sky blue linings on the outer and finely polished walls with various priceless artefacts on the inner.
Bernice answered the door and welcomed Marge in; her kids gone off to school. For a woman that acted and dressed so professionally and appropriately in public, Bernice was a fox in the bedroom. An absolutely open book ready to try just about anything offered. Marge brought a brown lunch bag, in it a considerably thick dildo. It was her favourite one of Marge's, and with limited foreplay, the two women stripped one another bare.
"Julius came extra hard today," Marge told Bernice, the woman's cunt juicing already from the sight of her blue-haired sex partner.
"I noticed," Bernice said, taking Marge in her arms. "Can smell him on your breath."
The pair kissed, embracing the tongues they loved to play with. At the second Marge broke it, Bernice shot vertically down, squatting at the helm of Marge's honeypot. Feasting on the mother's cunt, Bernice squeezed Marge's legs tight so her nails dug in. Changing it up, she nibbled the outer regions of Marge's pussy before darting her tongue inside, fingering it, and then playing with her clit at a furious pace.
Marge sat on the bed, dying for a release in her legs. Thirty seconds of Bernice's grasp had really taken the wind of out them. And as Marge got more comfortable, Bernice turned the sensation up a notch. She licked, fingered and mangled every part of her face in Marge's pussy. It was saturated not only with its pre-cum, but Bernice's saliva, so erratic was the woman to eat it.
Not a minute later, Marge took a strong hold of Bernice's. The black woman's fingers ploughed deep inside Marge – nearly to the point of fisting – before she let loose on the anal. Bernice spat across two fingers and then crammed them up Marge's back door. She moaned and thrashed wildly on the bed as she approached her best orgasm in a while. Not even a threesome with the real deal dicks in Barney and Moe got her off like this one-woman show was.
With one sharp, ear-piercing screech, Marge came. Her juices gushed into Bernice's filthy mouth and her legs shook uncontrollably. The feeling of a genuine climax was too good to bear and well worth the wait! Once settled, Bernice moved up Marge's body and forced a deep kiss on her. Happily, Marge obliged, fingering her lover's pussy once she felt around and found it.
As Bernice lifted off her, Marge lopped herself off the bed, onto her knees, and on all fours. This was one of their favourite games. Bernice hopped lightly on Marge's back and the blue-head crawled to the bedside table with the woman on her back. Once there, Bernice stood back up and over her, willing for Marge to do as she pleased.
Grabbing the thick, mild-mannered in length dildo, Marge gestured for Bernice to lie down. And she obeyed, for Marge was her master. Femdom fantasies came no more down to earth than with Bernice Hibbert. She went the whole nine yards, consistently. That was her greatest asset.
Her pussy still aching with pleasure and her thighs still quivering, Marge yanked the bedside drawer open, snatching the strap-on belt from inside. Bernice watched, teasing her pussy and having a taste of her juices whenever she felt the need as she waited her turn. Marge fitted the dildo onto the fabric and then tightened it around her waist.
She gyrated her hips over Bernice's legs, thoroughly enjoying her little pre-sex tease. Then as Bernice spread her legs to either side, Marge thrust her body close to the woman's – her fake cock sliding deep in the soaking pussy below.
Marge softly extended the dick out then jolted it sharply inside Bernice again. This time the woman groaned with the penetration.
"Fuck me, Marge!" she demanded as her pussy was made subject to once more. "You cheating whore," she hissed, getting off from her own dirty talk.
Building a rhythm, Marge continued screwing the wife of Springfield's most trusted doctor. And if he were here right now it would make for one hell of a sticky threesome. Bernice's pre-cum juices drooled out at a frantic rate, drenching the bed linen. The pink flesh on the walls of her hot cunt glistening with the soft early morning light, as Marge barrowed deeper and deeper inside her pecker.
"Cum!" Marge groaned with vigor. "Cum," she slapped Bernice on the cheek. "I said CUUUUMM!" Again, Marge bitch-slapped the woman, and Bernice loved it. This was the kinky sort of sex she appreciated. Playing rough was an added bonus to having Marge Simpson's hot ass pounding you.
So caught up in the emotional connection, Bernice's nearing orgasm went unnoticed. Her pussy gushed fluid as Marge retreated the dildo from the infinitely-lubed-up hole. Cum coated Marge's groin area before the blue-head scooted her body down and took an elongated climax to her face. She sat giggling as the flow of squirts drowned her to an unrecognizable state. It was well and truly a facial not to forget; the biggest she'd ever experienced with Bernice.
All Marge could taste and smell was cum.
"I'd love to stay, Bernice, but I've got a 7:30," Marge regretted to inform. "Could you help me out?"
Bernice knew precisely what that meant, and as Marge leant over her with juices dripping from her face, Bernice whiffed in a smell. More than anything, she loved drinking down her own cum off the skin of her lovers, and that's exactly what she done. Marge would have to leave in a couple minutes, and that was just enough time for Bernice to make her all pretty and presentable.
She sucked and licked the cum off Marge's face, moaning in the process. It was such a nasty treat - one she'd masturbate to until her body – pussy and fingers - could take no more.
Once Marge's face was cum-free, she got herself dressed. Still, she reeked of the heavenly-scented fluids. Not that her clients minded -- the majority of them preferred it that way.
From there she went to deadbeat Kirk Van Houten's family home. His wife Luann was out, and Kirk knew where. She was in the same business as Marge, except her clients paid and paid big money. Luann wasn't the most attractive woman around, but she complied with anything asked. The deepest, cruellest desires could be lived out with that woman and Kirk didn't give a damn. As long as the money was rolling in, the Van Houten parents were content with a lifestyle many labelled sickening.
After Marge was done pounding Kirk (yes, that's right, Marge pounding Kirk. No surprise he liked a woman with a man's package), she left him puffing on his bedroom floor, off to her next "meeting." She was a busy woman today, one fuck after the next, like a business professional.
Homer was too dull to question her whereabouts (for the few times he was at home to realize, meaning weekends) and even to catch on with subtle and clear-as-daylight hints. It was almost a play-by-play of when Marge was pregnant with Maggie and Homer was none-the-wiser. Residents around town were congratulating him and he went on oblivious as to what they were actually referring to. This was the same, except Marge's clients knew Homer was utterly unaware of her "job," and their hinting was often a form of mockery. Mockery in that this oaf hadn't clued on and that their snarky little comments here and there went unnoticed. His wife was giving herself up for zero wage and screwing everyone around town; it was always a comedic topic to land on.
After Kirk came (literally) Joe Quimby; town Mayor and big-time spender throughout prostitution rings. He'd made countless offers to Marge for him to be her pimp. But however much he tried, Marge never budged. She wasn't doing this for the money... for now. So, Marge would just fuck Quimby extra hard so as to keep his crafted sentences and political bullshit to a minimum, and this morning was their most hardcore meeting yet.
"Oh, yeah. Oh, baby," Joe groaned, voicing his typical form of appreciation. For a guy that slept with so many woman (which the whole town always knew about, even Homer), Quimby wasn't too well-endowed. Marge had to do just about all the fucking herself, his dick was so insignificant.
For kicks and giggles – and a nice sensation afterwards – Marge let Quimby shoot his load inside her. She was on the pill anyway, and since he was sweating like a slob and pig, she might as well get this over with. Marge didn't exactly enjoy her time with Quimby but she grew satisfaction from how dirty and unnecessarily skanky it was.
Marge had quite the day ahead of her. She stopped off at Dr. Nick's (dangerously under-qualified) clinic and fucked his brains out; then onto Kent Brockman's mansion and his higher-than-thou personality; Judge Roy Snyder's overnight apartment where she got down with him and his two middle-aged prostitutes (who were, as Marge assumed, done in for some sort of crime and this was their way around the system to stay out of jail); and lastly, for a warming three hours, her twin sister's place. It was quite a nice touch to end the day. The three of them would sit around naked in the bedroom, tasting each other whenever and however they pleased. Numerous climaxes followed as the late morning sun turned into a heat.
12:47PM and Marge had her favourite client of the day. Saying her goodbyes to Patty and Selma (which weren't on their traditional-sensed lips, but ones far more pink and sensitive), she headed off to the wealthy side of Springfield.
Marge yanked the hand brake up and turned off the ignition. Movie star Rainier Wolfcastle walked down the driveway, greeting Marge with a chivalrous kiss on the cheek. But that was the last glimpse of charming from him, and before long he had Marge bent over in his acreage of living room space. This was where Marge moaned and groaned like nowhere else. The man known well for his on-screen renditions of McBain had the most extraordinary "equipment" she had come across yet. With each thrust, he slammed her g-spot.
To orgasm three or four times before you barely realised it wasn't out of the norm for a fuck session with Rainier. Her pussy took a pounding and her legs trembled madly like jelly, but still he kept her pleading for more.
The extended visits always let off any steam Marge may still have after a long day. Fucking all those dicks and not having the release she needed, her favourite days were having those few hours with her sisters followed by a rampant all-out session with Rainier.
Driving home, Marge kept one hand on the wheel as the other rubbed her pussy. With her sparkling red dress up to her crotch, she fingered and tasted herself all the way back.
She smelt deeply of the day she'd had. Either cum or sweat was soaked into just about every inch of skin on her body as she washed it off in the shower, once again finger-fucking herself. If she had any real sense, Marge would turn herself in to a rehabilitation center for sex addicts, but she never even considered. The passion she felt for her lifestyle was a passion she hadn't felt in years. The men and women she became intimate with appreciated her beauty, whereas for Homer, not so much.
Still, when she picked Maggie up from Daycare and the kids from school, Marge went back to acting like the perfect mother. And when Homer got home from work tired and hungry, she was the perfect wife. Everything in her second life was put on hold when she had time with her family.
And it was that night - when Homer tried his best to ignore the topic of their household bills once more - that Marge weighed up her options. Homer was clearly avoiding the subject and it was most likely due to their financial situation.
She would sleep on it, but Marge decided maybe it was time to start charging her clients. After all, having whored herself out for free, she had established a healthy credibility. Every willing husband and his wife what a good fuck Marge Simpson was. With a price to pay, she wouldn't lose many (if any!) cliental. It was a sure-fire way to rake in money. Raise the income with tax-free dollars. And all the while, maintain her biggest love of all: the sin of adultery...
End of Chapter Two ("Marge the Goer")
Fun to write; was it fun to read? Let me know! =)
Shed a glimpse of Marge's encounter with Lovejoy; a sort of mystery storyline as to what made Marge this new woman.
Next chapter, we'll see money-hungry Marge$!!$ :D
