You Don’t Argue With Alice

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Joanie had known Alice since they were at Manchester University together, nearly twenty years ago. They were close friends and Joanie always knew that if she had a problem, she only had to talk to Alice. Alice would know what to do and lay it all out – you didn’t argue with Alice. It always worked. Not that Alice was bossy or dominant but, when it was needed, you knew that doing it the way Alice suggested was the only way. The way she raised her eyebrow or uttered the immortal phrase, “I think not!” would end any argument. One incident had passed into University legend. Alice had been at a party with some of the Rugby Club who were celebrating a hitherto unheard of event, that of drinking the Climbing Club under the table. They were on their way back to their Hall of Residence. Their choruses and erratic movement attracted the attention of Constable Barry Hughes who radioed in for a Paddy Wagon to take the revellers down to the ‘nick’. The lads were corralled and invited to enjoy some alternative accommodation for the rest of the night. The ‘Lads’ had just vanquished the Climbers at drinking and, in their own eyes, they were ‘invincible’. This prompted a very unhelpful response from them concerning their recommendations for the officer’s immediate travel plans, and suggestions that the constabulary might ‘go forth and multiply’. “Do you like sex and travel? Then fuck off,” cried Dave Jones, the six foot four giant from the ‘Valleys’, who wore the number 8 shirt when they were on the field. The police had heard it all before and took it in good heart but Alice could see the inevitable. Before Sergeant Des Wilson could open his mouth to issue a command, she spoke. Spoke? It was more like an opera diva making a judgment on Siegfried. “I think not!” she roared. “Line out, the blues! Get in line and wait! Quiet in the line!” A match discipline had been imposed on the lads and they were at rapt and rigid attention, as if waiting in the line-out for the ‘throw in’. “Now, you will follow me back to Hall and you will be silent until we get there. Move!” “Thank you Sergeant – if you will take your van and watch us crossing Oxford Road at the corner that will be most helpful.” Sergeant Hughes knew he had been dismissed by a slip of a girl but that endless paperwork had been saved. With a grin and a shake of his head at his colleagues they did as they had been asked şişli escort and escorted the drunken party onwards. For safety they actually stopped the traffic on Oxford Road both ways, while the lads staggered across. He had learned, albeit he did not know her name, that you did not argue with Alice.Mark and Robert shared a house with seven other blokes who all had a common ambition. Fuck as many girls as possible and, in particular, fuck your mate’s girl if you could. They met Joanie and Alice in a ‘Gay Bar’ – frequented by girls who thought it was a safe place to have fun. It was also frequented by blokes like Mark and Robert who found it a good place to prey on girls who thought they were in a safe place. After some amusing ‘swapping’ Mark and Alice became an ‘item’ as did Joanie and Robert. Their weddings were only a month apart in 1996. They all kept in close contact over the years. If anyone had a major decision to make, then it was always referred back to Alice. You didn’t argue with Alice. In 2006 they found themselves living close by in Matlock. They enjoyed each other’s company – dinner parties and nights out – always accompanied by banter and flirting to reflect their shared past. All might have continued in that vein until they joined the Matlock Players. Mark and Joanie were cast in major parts for a play in which they played a couple having an affair. It was hilarious fun and the critic writing in the Matlock Mercury paid particular praise to their rapid fire dialogue and perfect timing in the many hurried entrances and exits they had to make to avoid detection. These were the result of dedicated rehearsals. Rehearsals which continued after the last curtain. It had begun in front of all the caste in one of the early run throughs of scene two. The producer, Marge, had called for a bit more passion and lust – “Ham it up for me Mark. It’s got to be rushed and urgent.” When they made the entrance again Mark went for it in a big way. He pulled Joanie in very close bending her back slightly as he plunged his mouth down on hers. At the same time he intended to run his right hand up from Joanie’s hip towards her left breast over her sweater. Instead his hand had shot up inside the fabric and he had suddenly copped for a titillating handful. To cap it all she wasn’t wearing a bra. They broke quickly. “Not sure Matlock’s quite ready for mecidiyeköy escort that,” cried Marge amid some shrieks of delight from other caste members. “Not sure I am either,” cried Joanie, rather flushed. A little later they were both making the coffee for everyone backstage. “Joanie, I’m really sorry for that, “pleaded Mark. Joanie simply smiled, pulled the hem of her top up, and placed his hand back on her breasts and held it there. “It was fun though, wasn’t it?” she said with a grin. Six weeks later on a Friday afternoon Joanie left work at noon and walked to the car park near the Town Hall where Mark was waiting. She felt like a naughty school girl skipping lessons for a date. As soon as she got into the car Mark was all over her – his hands up her blouse to grope her tits and then up her legs. She pushed him away, “Not here. Drive – quickly.” Twenty minutes later they arrived at Mark and Alice’s house – the coast was clear. Alice’s Toyota was nowhere to be seen. With the sort of haste usually associated with being caught in a downpour they dashed for the door. Once inside the hall bags were dropped and jackets were off. They moved on each other hungrily. Everything was desperate and urgent. Mark was torn between groping Joanie and getting her blouse off. Joanie had got his trousers undone and the zip down – a much more methodical approach. She undid the buttons of her blouse and deftly unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the floor, as Mark began to suck her nipples. Joanie moaned with pleasure and grabbed his cock. They stumbled towards the lounge and collapsed onto the huge settee. After their initial frenzy they slowed, exploring each other as they stripped naked. Joanie began giving Mark a blow job while cupping his balls gently. “Stop, stop” cried Mark, “before you get a mouthful of spunk.” “Hmm, I’d like that, but I want you to shoot inside me.” Mark got down on his knees as Joanie spread her legs wide apart for him to savour the cunt which awaited him. He began to lick and suck her clit. He hitched her forward so he could push his tongue deep inside her, and then run it between the beautiful rosebud of her arse then back to her clit. Joanie tweaked her nipples as Mark pushed two fingers into her cunt to finger fuck while she continued to tease. It wasn’t long before Joanie began to tense and shudder. “Oh fuck! Oh fuuuck! I’m cuuumming” she cried as her body exploded and she squirted her juice all over his face. Mark continued to lick and she came again just as violently, and even more noisily. He came up for air. Joanie was still for a minute just gasping. “Oh my god, that was fucking incredible – phew.” Joanie took Mark’s face in her hands and began to lick her cum off him, giving him deep tongue sharing kisses. “Now fuck me hard,” she commanded. Mark didn’t need prompting – he moved up and Joanie guided his rigid cock into her pussy. He raised himself up and began to pump hard and deep – fast and slow. Joanie clasped her legs behind him as he raised himself up. The urgency of his thrusting gathered pace. Joanie was making animal noises in her throat. “Oh yes, fuck me Mark – shoot your spunk deep inside me. Come on fuck me, fill me. Oh yeeesss!” she cried as she felt his hot semen flood into her. They lay together cuddling for a few minutes then they realised that they ought to get dressed. Alice might just come home early as it was Friday. Mark began to plump up the settee and straighten the cushions. “I’ll make some coffee,” said Joanie walking into the kitchen. “Coffee, coffee, coffee?” she was humming as she scanned the cupboards. “Top cupboard above the kettle” said a very familiar voice. “Thank y…” Joanie froze. She turned slowly and the colour drained from her flushed face. “Alice!” she finally whispered. Alice stood before her radiating power but with a slight smile on her face. The smile that might be seen on the face of an alligator about to devour its prey. “Call my husband in,” said Alice. And when Joanie’s mouth opened but no sound came out she raised an eyebrow in further command. You didn’t argue with Alice. “Mark,” she croaked as loud as she could. Mark walked in with a puzzled look on his face which turned to terror when he saw his wife. “Oh shit!” “Yes, my darling. Very deep shit and up to your neck,” replied Alice. The three of them stood there for two minutes while Alice piled the agony on silently. “I’m sorry,” mumbled Mark, “we didn’t know you were home,” he said lamely. “Well that’s a relief. I would hate to think you did know I was home and carried on regardless. I have some very interesting video on my iPad.” “Your car isn’t here!” said Mark. “If you had looked at the calendar this morning you would have seen that it is having its MOT and service this afternoon. Peter is dropping it back when it’s done. In fact that sounds like him now. Wait here!” Alice moved past them to the front door and they heard her call.

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