“Do one about a sex robot,” Marcye said from behind Mark’s chair. Startled, he felt a bit embarrassed at the single idiotic sentence on his laptop screen: “It was the best of fucks, it was the worst of fucks.” That was all he had come up with since lunch. Writer’s block.“It’s been done. Over and over. In literature, on TV, and in the movies. From all angles.”“So?” Marcye took a big sip of her strawberry-banana-chocolate smoothie through a fat stainless-steel straw. “Nobody says it has to be totally original. Just hot as hell. I would hit that.”“One does not ‘hit’ a short story,” Mark said, annoyed.“Jesus. Okay, Mr. Crabby. I’ll leave you alone.”Mark swiveled his chair and watched as Marcye sauntered away. Her famous auburn tresses, done in trendy elaborate braids, swayed gently. Within insanely-expensive jeans (pre-worn to perfection by sex workers in Guatemala), Marcie’s equally-famous little ass moved in ways that made Mark dizzy.Any man who shared a home—and a bed—with the fabulous Marcye Van Slay had no reason to be crabby, he thought. Also, no excuse for a lack of ideas for erotic stories. Since he had met Marcye nine months earlier, their adventures had been astonishing. Tabloids made up stories about her, but none of the stories was anywhere near as outrageous as reality. She took incredible risks and somehow always got away with them. Mark was having the time of his life. He had met (and fucked, and been fucked by) some of the most famous, most grungy, and most insane people on earth.And yet. Writer’s block. Go figure.Time for some fresh air, he thought. He silently slid the perfectly-tinted patio door and took a slow walk around the pool, deliberately not thinking about his writing. This air, he thought, is the very best that money can buy. Pre-breathed for us by film stars, washed-up pop artists, Üsküdar Escort and tax accountants. Also by their new neighbor.That was another cliché, of course. New neighbor sneaks over to skinny-dip in pool; gets caught; sex ensues. There were lots and lots of variations on that old theme. Mark and Marcye had never seen their previous neighbor. Supposedly, the sprawling pinkish house and lush grounds next door had been owned by a Chinese corporation. The property had been meticulously maintained, but with no sign that anyone ever lived there. Their new neighbor was a slender young woman. She took out her own garbage, got her own mail. She painted her own front door a beautiful deep red. No one seemed to know who she was, or where her money came from.As if on cue, the mysterious neighbor appeared just as Mark was thinking about her. She was standing just on her side of the low stone wall separating the properties, not far from Mark, and looking directly at him. She had an odd expression on her face, he thought. A combination of eagerness and confusion.“Hi!” he said with his best smile “I’m Mark Oberlein. Welcome to the neighborhood.”The woman’s eyes met his with a flash of intensity that almost scared Mark. “I…I am not sure who I am supposed to be. Your desires are not clear.” Although hesitant, her voice was pleasant, with a neutral accent.Was this girl high on something? “I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Is there any way I can help you?” She just shook her head.As a writer, Mark was in the habit of noticing details and making mental notes that would later show up in his work. Especially when attractive women were concerned. But there was something hard to pin down, something strangely nebulous, about this woman’s appearance. For a second, her facial features looked Üsküdar Escort Bayan surprisingly like Marcye’s. Then for an instant she looked like a girl Mark had known in fifth grade. Then like a cute bagger at the local supermarket. Then a little bit like Mark’s older sister. Mark was confused. Maybe he was the one who was tripping, although he hadn’t ingested anything lately.Mark tried again. “What’s your name?”“She’s Creamy.” The voice came from behind Mark. Marcye was walking quickly toward them around the swimming pool, a big smile on her face. She laughed. “That’s going to be my favorite pun for a while.”Mark’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but it was bound to be interesting.The woman called “Creamy” locked eyes with Marcye. The confusion in her eyes vanished, but the eagerness remained. “It is so good to meet you at last!” Her appearance finally seemed to come into focus. She looked very much like Marcye after all; they could almost be sisters. Although her hair was golden blonde, it was braided in the exact same way as Marcye’s. How could Mark have missed that? She must be some kind of fan or groupie, he assumed.“Come on over,” Marcye said. “Let’s take a look at you.” Creamy nimbly climbed over the wall and did a slow twirl in front of them. She was strong and very graceful. Maybe a dancer? She was barefoot, wearing little white shorts and a red tee with some kind of foreign calligraphy; Mark didn’t recognize the language. He saw stiff nipples and approved wholeheartedly.Apparently, Marcye approved as well. “Good!” she said, her sparkling eyes taking in every detail of Creamy’s body. “Very nice. Mm hmm.” She held hands with Creamy and Mark and led the way to her favorite play nook on the patio. “Let’s have some fun.”In a few moments, all Escort Üsküdar three were out of their clothes. Mark’s t-shirt and shorts tangled with Marcye’s pricey jeans and Creamy’s cryptic top on a random patio chair. Marcye and Creamy were standing, almost dancing to imaginary music, locked in a juicy, frenzied kiss that went on and on. Mark was content to watch for the moment, his cock already very hard and pulsing. The two women reached out and put their right hands behind each other’s heads at exactly the same moment, pulling their mouths and tongues tight together. It was a spectacular sight. Creamy had several piercings, each with its silver ring, but no tattoos. She had a glowing golden tan straight out of the 1970s, and a bright blond bush of pubic hair from the same era. Equal parts Marcye Van Slay and vintage hippie chick.Marcye broke the kiss, nearly panting. “Mark,” she said, voice husky with lust, “come and get some of this.” Mark put his arms around both women, their skin warm and supple, and kissed Creamy, then Marcye. Their kisses were not just similar; they were nearly identical. It seemed almost unnatural, yet perfect. Tongues slid over and under each other as their desire ratcheted up.Moving slowly, as though under water, Marcye lay back in a nearby redwood-framed lounge chair, drawing up her legs to expose her drenched, fragrant pussy. Creamy knelt, her mouth so very close to Marcye’s epicenter, her warm breath making Marcye whimper. Then the tip of Creamy’s tongue moved in a languid zigzag, starting close to Marcye’s asshole and finally swiping across her clit. Over and over with subtle variations, each better than the last, taking Marcye to the very brink of orgasm and keeping her there until her mind nearly broke.Creamy finally pulled back to admire the quivering, spasmodic wreckage of Marcye Van Slay. “Sweet fuck of a fuck,” Marcye said, her voice trembling, chest heaving, as aftershocks rolled through her brain and body. “I am half dead. Your tongue should be insured for a billion dollars. To reward you, Mark and I are going to treat you like absolute shit.”