Marianne By The Collector My best friend… or “Why did it take us so long?” Copyright 1998 The Collector This story is adult in nature and should not be read by anyone under 21. Your comments are welcome to improve the content and quality of my writing. Some story ideas work better than others. I have to admit I fell in love with Marianne as I wrote this. Send comments to ChuckSt35@aol.com Marianne and I had grown up being best friends. We were an unlikely pair as she was vivacious, outgoing, sensitive and full of laughter with numerous stories to tell. At times, she could be almost ditzy, her mind roaming easily from one subject to the next without missing a beat, but that was part of her charm. I, on the other hand, was reserved, conservative and not one for drawing attention to myself. Whatever our differences, we seemed to compliment each other and drew out the best in each other. We had both been away at separate colleges and I was looking forward to seeing her, it having been nearly a year. The changes in her each time I saw her were now more pronounced, and I often felt surprised I didn’t see her in a different light before. She was never the prettiest girl in school, but a little better than average. But each time I saw her, she seemed to get prettier, beautiful, almost a different girl, not the one I had grown up with. I had called her house a couple times since I was back, trying to connect with her, catch up on what she had been doing. She had been out both times, but her mother had said she wanted to see me, so I took that as a positive sign. I had decided to wait a day or two before calling again, not wanting to seem too anxious. I was sitting on the front porch, tuning my guitar, when I heard a motorcycle approach. I looked up, and saw the rider approach my house with the most beautiful legs I’d ever seen on a bike. She looked in my direction, waved, and then gunned the bike as though trying to impress me. Her helmet was ocean blue with a tint covering. While she was going too fast for me to see, I wouldn’t have been able to tell whom it was if I’d wanted to. I watched her disappear up the street and went back to my chore. A few moments later, the rider appeared again at the street to my right. She pulled to a stop sign, looked at me as she sat there, revving the engine on the iron horse as she looked at me. I just watched, the sights and sounds of her on the bike somewhat erotic, captivating me. She maneuvered the bike towards the sidewalk on my block, took the bike up the curb to my front sidewalk, turned towards my house and drove up to the porch. She gunned the engine again, then turned the key as it went silent. She parked her bike facing me, as her legs parked themselves to either side of the bike. Her feet were arched, her legs resting on her toes, being slightly too short to rest on the ground, which immediately drew my attention. The sweet arch in her foot was as sensuous as each of her pretty toes, each painted a lively pink to add to their perfect shape. Her sandals had single thong up the center adding to her appearance. My eyes gazed up her legs, light tanned, thin, yet slightly muscled, but perfectly shaped as far as I could tell. If my libido was any indication, I was right. It had yet to let me down. As I looked at her thighs, I could tell they were firm, with a shape that begged for my hands to caress them. She was wearing cutoffs that came just above her thighs, cut as short as possible, revealing nothing, yet suggesting everything. She was wearing a white short sleeved top with a “V” in the center. I could see the outline of her cleavage at the top, just enough to know that she more than adequately filled the top as her breasts protruded invitingly, begging me to stand up for a better vantage point. As she raised her arms to remove her helmet, I noticed a slight bulge in her arms, as her biceps appeared, for only a split second, immediately drawing my attention. As the helmet came off, her brown hair dropped over her face, down her shoulders. She shook her head from side to side as each hair began to fall into place, and I recognized the face immediately. She looked at me, waiting for a response. “Marianne! When did you start riding?” I couldn’t believe it was she. The last year had been extremely kind to her. She was even more beautiful than the last time I’d seen her. “Tim! Hi! Do you like it?” she asked. She bent over the handlebars, clearly out of breath. As she did, her bust revealed itself as two richly tanned mounds, begging to be held, caressed. She caught me looking and said “Oops, sorry Tim. I wasn’t being very careful, was I?” I blushed but to save myself the embarrassment, I let it go. “Why are you out of breath?” I asked. In typical Marianne fashion, she began animatedly describing the events of the last few minutes. “Well, I was in the park, minding my own business and three guys came up to me, hitting on me. Oh, I think I’m in a lot of trouble, Tim. Anyway, they surrounded me and one of them approached me and said he was going to kiss me, but I pushed him away.” She talked with both her lips and her hands, her arms flying…every so often I’d notice her biceps would appear for only a moment, teasing me, taunting me. I hadn’t known Marianne to be particularly athletic, so her arms were a welcome surprise. Marianne described the events to the last detail, and even non-details. She would get sidetracked and I’d have to bring her back to what she was discussing. Until nearing the end, something caught my attention. “…So I tried to walk away but there were three of them and they tackled me from behind. I told them if they didn’t leave me alone, I was going to hurt them.” “And what did they say?” I asked. This was not the Marianne I had grown up with. “Oh, they laughed at me. But then one of them came at me, and told me he was going to take off my clothes. Well, I didn’t have any choice then, and I had already warned them. I didn’t know what else to do so I beat them up. And that was it.” “Marianne, are you OK? Did you get hurt?” I thought she was dreaming. Then she answered, ”N…N…No. But I think I hurt one of them real bad. I didn’t mean to.” And then she began to cry. The pent up concern came to the surface and I saw a genuine look on her face that cried ‘Help’. I rose up and went to her as she put her arms around me, burying her head in my chest, squeezing me harder than I had expected. I couldn’t believe my ears, but she needed some measure of empathy, rather than my asking her how she did what she said. “But Marianne, after what he tried to do, he deserved it. You shouldn’t feel bad about it. You did what you had to do.” “I know, but I didn’t have to hurt him as bad as I did.” The tears were streaking down her cheek. She was clearly upset, still as sensitive as I had always known her to be. “It’s just that…I was enjoying hurting him…I know it’s not right…but when I saw the fear in his eyes…it’s like I couldn’t stop. I’m really worried that he’s hurt really bad.” I seemed to want to pull her closer with each word she spoke, Trying to calm her, I said, “All right, if you want, we can go check and see if he’s OK.” Apparently, catching up on each other would have to wait. I took her hand, helped her off her bike, put my arm around her and led her to my car. I noticed a strange feeling as my arms held her, her body was unusually hard, yet incredibly soft, feminine. We got in, Marianne sitting close to me, her head resting on my shoulder, and drove only a half-mile, where a crowd was gathered. I slowed down to see when Marianne came alive. Keeping close to me, she pointed towards the crowd. “There he is, the big one. See I did hurt him.” She began crying again. I watched as the man, easily over six feet tall, was being carried between his friends, clearly hurt as he was heavily favoring his right leg. His clothes were shredded; one arm was in a makeshift sling, and a large welt had begun to develop under his right eye. There were bruises on the other two as well, though not as severe, with their clothes soiled and torn as well. Had they known she was in my car, they most likely wouldn’t have walked in front of us. As they did, one of them saw Marianne, and her eyes met his, and I saw genuine fear in his eyes. He said something to the other two…they gazed at Marianne, then like scared children they moved faster away from us. What had she done..and how? I couldn’t believe these grown men could be so afraid of her, or that she could do what she said she did. As she stared back at them, I notice a slight smile come to her, though her eyes were still wet. I drove Marianne back to my house. Out of the car, I suggested to Marianne that she go home and get cleaned up and try not to think about what had happened. I doubted she was in the mood for company tonight. I was still puzzled at what went on, and why those men, so much larger than her, sensed genuine fear when they saw her. And how could she have possibly done what she had said? Marianne said, “No one’s at home except me this weekend. Would you mind if I came back after I cleaned up? I just don‘t feel like being alone right now.” I was both surprised and elated, not wanting to be alone tonight either, especially since she already had me curious…about a number of things. “You know you can.” I said. I was concerned for her, yet still wanting to ask her too many selfish questions. “I won’t be long,” she said. I walked her to her bike; she got on, put her helmet on, turned it over and drove away. I stood there just watching her…wondering. * * * An hour later, I heard Marianne drive up. She knocked at the door, walked in and announced, “It’s only me.” I called to her from the kitchen, as she found me pouring lemonade for both of us. She approached me, her hand stroking my back. I looked back at her. “Thank you”, she said, and gently kissed my cheek. Watching me, she said, “I’ll get some ice.” She had changed into a light colored sundress as I turned to watch her. As she opened the door to the freezer, she raised up on her toes to grab an ice tray. As she did, her calf muscles appeared, only accentuating her perfectly shaped legs. She caught me looking, smiled at me and brought the ice tray over. We sensed a difference in each other, and a new attraction…if she only knew. We left the kitchen, went to the living room, and turned on the TV. We were both in quiet moods, not wanting anything to distract us from each other, more than complacent in each other’s company. She grabbed the remote and found a movie no self-respecting guy would be caught dead watching alone, but which women seemed to love. We sat back as I placed my arm around her and we cuddled close to each other. As it was, the movie failed to hold our attention, as we became restless, as though looking for something else to occupy our time. She motioned to the fireplace…”It might be nicer in here with a fire.” My cue no doubt. I stoked the fireplace as she went to the kitchen and refilled our glasses. She came back in and sat down on the rug in front of the fireplace, cross-legged. I sat next to her as we watched the fire begin to grow, as flames darted higher and seemed to reach out and touch us, warming us. We didn’t speak for the next few minutes, enjoying a silence that was rich, and comforting. As I reached to rearrange the logs, she pulled the pillows from the couch onto the floor. I caught sight of her legs as she lay down, and looked back at her. She looked up at me…a slight smile on her face…the look a woman gives when she knows what she wants. I went to her left and lied down next to her. She raised up as my arm wrapped around her. She rested her right arm across me, her head finding a resting-place on my shoulder. “That feels nice”, I said. “I know…me too.” She said. “Why did it take us so long?” “Maybe the time wasn’t right. Or we weren’t ready for it yet.” “I think maybe we just had to grow a little. I know I’ve changed a lot in the last year.” She said, an understatement at best. “Everything about you has changed. I couldn’t believe it when you drove up tonight. You looked so…sexy…sitting on your bike. It was kind of…sensual.” I was becoming aroused, holding her close, only the two of us, the rest of the world shut out from ours. The fire was getting warmer, or maybe it was I. The closer I held her, the more her body seemed to melt with my hands, yet I could feel muscles twitch in her that I hadn’t known were there before. “Thank you”, and she kissed my cheek, then I felt her arm pulling me closer. She looked into my eyes, both of us silent for the moment. “What’re you thinking about?” she asked. I looked at her, the reluctantly I said, “I was thinking about what you did to those guys.” I cringed inside as I said it, not knowing how she’d react, almost wanting to take it back. But she smiled softly, and she looked at me, a curious, playful look in her eyes, as she nudged closer to me. “And what did you think about it?” she asked. I felt her finger run down the center of my chest, that simplest of movements, yet so touching, warm, but with Marianne it felt erotic, sensual. “H-how much it turns me on, that you can do that. How strong you must be. But you’re so feminine.” My voice was shaking, as I was unable to control my lust for her. I was succumbing to my most passionate desire. As I looked at her, her face lit up, and I felt her right leg reach across my body as she moved closer yet. She was getting excited as well. I moved my left hand down to her thigh, gently caressing it, then realized it was as solid as the rest of her. “Does my being strong excite you?” She was smiling broadly, as though I’d said something magical. “Y-yes, Marianne, you don’t know how much.” I was nearly shaking. I doubt she knew how she was affecting me. Then surprisingly, she reached over and kissed me passionately, then slowly backed away. “If I show you how strong I really am, you won’t believe it…and it might scare you.” She was enjoying this, wanting to show me how powerful she was. “Oh… Marianne…you’re teasing me…please…” Before I could finish, her lips were close to me again, as I could tell she was aroused. Then she whispered, “I’m not teasing you Tim…” then she looked into my eyes. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” She stood up, glanced around the room, as though looking for something, then her eyes found what she was looking for in a far corner, where I kept my softball gear. She grabbed a bat, I still used a wooden one, took it in her hands, and started walking back to me. With her hand on the handle, she slapped the head against her palm as she walked towards me, with a vicious look on her face. She came close to me as I sat on the floor, then approached me, her legs apart, towering over me, still slapping it against her palm. I look up at her, as her expression didn’t change. I began to slide back away from her as she sensed a fear in me. Then as quickly, her expression changed again. She put her hand to her mouth and softly giggled, then moved down close to me. “I’m sorry Tim”…she was still giggling…”I couldn’t resist. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The mistaken fear I had was displaced with even more affection for her. I smiled up at her and slapped her gently on her thigh. “That wasn’t funny” I said playfully. I took her hand in mine, and gently kissed it as I looked into her eyes, trying to restore the moment. “Now what’re you going to do with that?” I asked her. “And wouldn’t you like to know?” she asked, now playfully teasing me. She grabbed a pillow off the couch, set the bat on the floor, and placed the pillow across the head. Then she reached down with her hand, took mine and helped me up, then pulled me to her. She looked in my eyes and said, “Wanna get turned on by a strong girl?” Then she raised her eyebrows twice quickly. Had I not been so excited by her, I would’ve burst out laughing. She was enjoying this immensely, and so was I. This was not out of character for her. Her moods could, and did, change without notice. She could be passionate, playful, sensitive, thoughtful, and even trite over the course of minutes…but as long as I’d known her, I never found unpleasant. “Sit!” She pointed to the pillow, still a wide affectionate smile on her face. I jumped at her command, sitting on the pillow, crossing my legs. She came astride the bat at it’s handle, her legs apart, looking down at me. Her mood had changed again. She moved closer and raised herself on her toes. As I looked up at her, her calves and her thighs seemed to glisten from the fire as her muscles gently, but prominently announced themselves. I reached my hand up her leg, sliding across her calf, feeling it silky smooth, hard to the touch, yet femininely soft. I reached for her thigh, moving my hand softly, slowly, my fingers dancing up her skirt, inside her thigh; and I felt a shiver from her. Her eyes closed for only a second, then her tongue crossed her lips, seeking moisture, and then her feet settled back to the floor. She looked down at me, then lowered herself to me. She stroked a finger across my face, then reached down and grabbed the bat at the end of the handle. In and easy motion, she lifted the bat off the floor! I had no trouble balancing as she raised it slowly, inch by inch, her eyes and mine talking with each other. I knew she was strong, but I clearly underestimated the extent of her incredible strength. And I saw, for the first time, the breadth of her amazing biceps, growing with each movement of her arm upwards. As she raised me, we both became unnerved. She moved her other hand to the front of her dress, and began massaging herself, he eyes watching me, her lips parted, her face flush. The bat was level with her other hand. With a slight turn of her wrist, the head of the bat, on which I was sitting, raised up at an angle. As I couldn’t hold on, I slid down it, into her arms, and felt her strength embrace me. “Marianne…I love your strength…you’re so strong baby…you never told me....” I whispered. “Oh god, Tim…thank you…I was hoping you’d like me like this.” She said, smothering me with affection. She backed away, still holding the bat. She raised it, then grabbed it with both hands at the middle, each hand across the label. Then she twitched her arms, looked at me and smiled. “Marianne…oh no…you can’t…no way…nobody’s that strong.” “Would you like to make a little bet? You wouldn’t bet against my pretty muscles would you?” She was pouting, looking innocent, and yet knowing what she was doing to me. I looked at her in anticipation, hoping she could pull this off. “I’ll lose…show me…please Marianne.” “Watch baby.” She stared into my eyes as I looked at her pretty petite hands on the bat, concentrating. Her delicate fingers began to sink into little valleys in the wood, then a smile came to her face. I watched her arms tense, as her forearms swelled, then her pretty biceps, so feminine, became a mass of muscle I doubt anyone could match. Just looking at her, I could feel the strength welling up in her body, her strength I wanted so badly. I knew what was coming. Her smile broadened as I heard a sound from the bat, a crunching sound, light at first then louder. I looked at Marianne, her tongue between her lips, her eyes on me…then in an instant, without warning…she bent her hands, pulled quickly, and she snapped the bat, a piece coming off in both hands! “Marianne…nobody can…” I whispered silently, stunned at what she had just done. “I can baby.” She lunged at me, kissing me, almost attacking me. “You make me feel so strong Tim.” Her breathing was heavier, the thought of her own strength setting her off. She began hurriedly unbuttoning my shirt as I undid my pants. I stepped out of them, then started to remove her dress, but she pushed my hand away. She turned her back to me, then slowly let the sleeves fall from her. Her dress floated down her body as I saw her naked curves for the first time. She backed close to me, my hands reaching for her hips, as I began to nibble at her neck. My hands began to move up and around her thin waist, then moved up as her soft, full breasts more than filled my hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her arms come up, her hands clenched. As her arms curled, her forearms stiffened as I moved my hands to them. She curled further as my hands reached her biceps, her soft skin covering little mountains of steel that rose with each movement from her. She looked back at me as she flexed, our eyes meeting. My hands rested on her biceps, now getting too big for my hands, as I felt a hard peak growing at my fingertips. Our lips moved closer. As I moved to kiss her, our lips touched, and her arm swelled, as hard as her lips were soft. I moved my lips slowly to her bicep, caressing it with one hand, the other moving to her waist, pulling her closer. As my lips touched it, she gasped then let out a sigh of approval. She looked at me, her breathing heavier yet relishing my touch in a way I hadn’t expected, and quietly said, “Tim, I feel so sexy…and so strong when you do that.” At that instant, I put both arms around her as she lowered her arm, and buried my face in her hair, reaching for her neck, clinging to her. I whispered quietly to her, my voice shaking, “Marianne, you’re so strong…so sexy…I-I love your strength…” She turned around quickly, put her arms around me, her lips searching for mine. She felt my hardness next to her, as we held each other close her strong arms around me, pulling me closer to her. In the next moment, she uttered “Tim”…her breathing heavy, then I felt the power of her sensuous body easily, gently, taking me to the rug. I lay down as she slowly, spread her body on top of me and I felt her warmth and strength as her hair dropped into my eyes. And I knew our time had come.