Karma (7 page)

What
a fucking asshole,
Mike thought, his anger
simmering.

In
the car while driving on the way to the hospital, Marcy phoned her ex. Listening
had been revealing and helped to fill in an unknown area of Marcy's life.

First,
she had trouble getting Katie's father on the phone. When Marcy hadn't answered
her cell phone because she was playing golf, Katie's school had attempted to
contact her father – also without result, it seemed. Calls to his direct line
went to voice mail. Calls through his office were blocked.

"You
tell him from me," Marcy finally snapped at the man's receptionist,
"that if he doesn't answer this phone right now his ex-wife is going to
come right over there and make a scene. A really big and unpleasant
scene."

These
magic words apparently worked because shortly after, Mike heard a one sided
conversation as Marcy spoke to her ex. She told him about Katie's accident, and
that their little girl had broken her arm. Right now Marcy was on the way to
the hospital to see her.

"I
am not calling you to ask for money," Marcy said calmly, yet her brow had
darkened with suppressed anger. "I am calling to inform you and to ask you
to please come and visit her. I know that she'll be asking for you." Marcy
took a deep breath and rolled her eyes.

"Trent,
she is your child, too," she said, her voice becoming heated.

The
conversation moved on like this for a bit with Marcy cajoling and entreating
and the ex putting her off and obviously giving her some excuse, telling her
that he was too busy or something to see his daughter.

Mike
was beginning to burn inside with a now urgent desire to drive over and beat
the shit out of the stupid prick.

"Fine,"
Marcy finally shouted, her temper breaking. "You obviously have a lot on
your plate. Go enjoy that important V.I.P. charity dinner and create your links
to possible future clients - I don’t give a damn! You are a total shit and you
don’t deserve to have a daughter anyway!" Marcy slammed her cell off
almost panting with rage.

After
that there was only the soft purr of his BMW for a few long minutes, and the
sound of Marcy's angry breathing, which she was beginning to get under control.

Mike
hated feeling powerless. But what could he do? What could he say? He couldn't imagine
any words that would console her. He had expected tears, but instead Marcy just
remained stiff and white lipped. Mike thought that he might have almost
preferred tears.

Marcy
finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry."

"What
for?"

"For
losing my temper, for swearing and screaming."

"No
problem. The guy sounds like a real dick. You want me to go and knock some
sense into him?"

Marcy
swallowed, and gave him a tight smile. "Thanks. That's a very attractive
offer. Right now I could almost take you up on it. I just know that Katie will
ask if her father is coming to visit her now that she has hurt herself. That is
a given. And what will I say? Probably 'daddy is busy.' It's what I always say."

Mike
stopped at a stop light, and slanted Marcy a look. Her hands were tightly
gripped in her lap, and she had gone very pale. Concerned, he shifted
restlessly in his seat.  

Marcy
sighed. "Trent said he would call her tomorrow, but he will probably 'forget'
just as he always does."

"Has
he always been like this with Katie?"

Marcy
shrugged. "It's probably my fault…"

"What?"
Mike interrupted her before she could continue. "No way!" he said,
slamming his open palm onto the steering wheel and making a loud bang.
"You are
not
one of those women, who blame themselves for
everything, are you? I don't believe it. Tell me that is not who you are."

The
light changed and Mike viciously stepped on the gas. He was surprised how angry
he was. He really liked this woman. It was going to piss him off if he found
that she was a doormat for her shithead ex. Why did some women do that? Make
excuses for assholes? And worse take responsibility for things that were not their
fault?

When
Mike turned his head to look at her, his stress levels instantly lowered. Amusement
glittered in Marcy pretty brown eyes. She was smiling at him. A flood of relief
soothed through him.

Marcy
understood his anger.

The
feisty woman had threatened her ex that she would make a public scene. She had also
forced the jerk to talk to her. Marcy was no doormat, and she wasn't a victim.

"It
is my fault, in a way," she began to explain. "Trent wanted to put
off having children until we were more financially stable. After we had been
married a few years I went ahead and stopped birth control anyway without
telling him. I thought Trent would be happy that I was pregnant. But you know
what? I'm beginning to realize that even though he said he wanted children 'someday'
he never actually intended to have them. The longer I was married to that man,
the more I think that I never really knew my husband at all."

The
words she said repeated in Mike's mind.
Trent wanted to put off having
children until we were more financially stable.

Mike
listened to the sound of Marcy talking, but was incapable of hearing anymore. A
weird sense of unreality crept over him. It was like déjà vu or something. Mike
had put off having children too, and where had that gotten him? Childless and
alone. He found this weird similarity to Marcy's ex disturbing.

The
conversation dwindled as they drove into the hospital grounds.

Jesus
Christ, I hate hospitals
, Mike thought, with months
of Barbara's treatment flashing through his mind. He parked the car and let
Marcy precede him inside, while trying his best to not look grim.

The
little girl was sitting watching TV when they came into the busy children's
area. Katie's face brightened when she saw her mom and she immediately got up
and came to her with a sunny smile. The loving embrace they gave each other was
really something to see.

Mike
smiled for the first time since leaving the golf course.

The
doctor informed them that Katie had sustained a "green stick"
fracture to her left radius. It had been placed in a cast, but there was no
need for surgery. The cast would only need to be on for a couple of weeks.

Katie's
hair was straight and blonde, her face more rounded, and her nose delicate and
aquiline. She didn't look like her mother at all, except for her honey-brown
eyes and her equally generous smile. Yet her personality? Mike thought he could
already see similarities there, in Katie's apology for injuring herself, and her
stoic manner of bearing her burdens.

What
a great kid,
he mused, wishing that Katie was his.
This little girl could turn my heart into silly putty with one look.

Marcy
admired her pretty cast which was pink. "I got to pick the color," Katie
informed her mother and Mike admired it too. Katie was a little shy around him,
but definitely interested in the possibility of being friends. Mike knew they
would get along well. Kids liked him, and he would love any child of Marcy's in
any case.

Life
was a strange thing. Mike, a man who had no hint of real attraction to anyone
for months, was already completely gone on Marcy Paget.

How
had it happened?

From
the first moment he had seen her, and every minute since Mike had only found
more reasons to admire and respect Marcy. Independent and self-contained, she had
such a grateful and cheerful personality, despite all the shit she had been put
through. Even though she had significant problems, Marcy felt lucky to have
such a beautiful child and to be who she was. André had been right about her: If
Marcy Paget didn’t deserve good fortune and happiness, then who did?

Mike
wanted to be the one that made her happy.

He
recalled the drive to the miniature golf park, when she had fallen asleep. For
awhile he had sat and simply watched her sleeping before he turned the car off
and woke her up. That could have been considered creepy, but it wasn't. He hadn't
wanted to wake her because she obviously needed the rest.

Why
was he so ridiculously drawn to her? Marcy's features were plain and even severe
while asleep, but Mike had still found her attractive. It was hard not to look
at her and recall her broad sincere smiles and heartfelt laughter.

While
waiting for her to wake, he had played with his phone, checking the internet. There
he found that NASA scientists discovered that lightning frequently hit the
ground two or more times in the exact same place. The chances of being struck for
a second time are about 45 percent higher than what people commonly assume.

In
other words, lightning really did, quite commonly, strike twice.

This
knowledge had both amused and inspired him. That spark he had felt when they
had touched was real. It seemed to him that if lightning naturally struck
twice, then someone who had found True Love once should be able to find it
again. But what about Marcy? Had she ever been in love? Now that was something
to think about.

Maybe
I'll be her first and only True Love.
The
possibility cheered him.

He
remembered their conversation when she had jerked awake in the car.

"Bad
dream?"

"No,
it was a really, really good one."

"I
know exactly what you're talking about,"
he
had replied.
"The good dreams hurt most of all."

Mike
hated sleeping alone. How many times had he woken up, imagining his wife's body
wrapped around him, with her head on his chest? Even the sound of her
comforting breathing and heavy heartbeat had seemed so real. For the first time
since she had passed, Mike thought that tonight he would not dream of Barbara.
He would fantasize about Marcy instead.

But
he'd have to be careful because of Marcy's resistance to "dating" and
getting close to a man again. She even tended to freeze up when he touched her,
so clearly she wasn't used to that.

First
he'd have to get her hooked on his company. Today was a good start. Giving the
line lots of play, he would eventually reel her in with slow yet persistent effort,
just like an obstinate fish.

He
would have to hide his intentions, of course, and be subtle as hell. Mike
smiled, knowing he could do that without too much difficulty.

Excusing
himself, he went off to arrange payment of Katie's medical bill. André had
employed her, and therefore he would medically cover her and her family. The
generous Frenchman would be overjoyed with the timing. Mike could almost hear
him now, "You see, my friend? How karma works? Already Marcy is rewarded
for not taking the hundred dollar bill."

Mike
would have bitten his tongue to avoid the obvious reply, why did her daughter
break her arm at all? That wasn't good karma. Yet even if he had said this to André,
no doubt the man would have come back with something like, "Ah, but we
have yet to see the result of this broken arm, no?"

Marcy
gave him her address and Mike drove the two of them home. Without waiting to be
asked, he went inside. The woman wasn't getting rid of him that easily. He
really wanted to make sure they were both alright. The condo was small, yet
tidy. Two women working full time, each with a child, would have to be pretty organized.

Poor
little Katie was worn out. She gave a cute little childish giggle when Mike solemnly
shook her good hand goodbye. Then Marcy put her to bed for a nap before dinner.

When
Marcy came out of the bedroom, she asked Mike if he wanted a coffee. Her manner
was polite, yet rigid and forced. There was something about her in the way she
was holding herself so stiffly.

Mike
had the impression that she was about to cry.

Instinctively
wanting to comfort her he said, "Come here," and gently pulled her
into his arms. Marcy – that self-contained woman who tensed up whenever he
touched her, folded into him, holding on as tightly as if he were a life raft
in an empty open sea.

And
then she burst into tears.

"Oh
yeah, baby," Trent grunted with each thrust. "Who's the best fuck
you've ever had?"

"You
are, Trent," she gasped. "You are!"

Mary
Hawkins, the young, attractive blonde dental technician had her tiny red
panties still around one of her ankles.

Legs
spread wide apart - the woman was bent right over the dental chair with her ass
in the air. Still in her uniform, it was hiked up over her buttocks and bunched
at the waist. Her tight little naked backside was tilted up and fully exposed.
Just then, Trent Berger was squeezing those delicious round globes while
thrusting himself hard inside her pussy.

The
little slut loves it,
he mused.

Trent
wasn't sure if Mary was actually a slut, but he knew that she was certainly
ambitious. Mary hoped that he would take her on full time when she completed her
dental hygienist internship. If he was going to help her, then she was going to
pay for it – they both understood that.

Ambitious
women and sluts flocked around Trent, which was no surprise. He was good
looking – tall and built, with classic Germanic features, a sculpted jaw, blond
hair and blue eyes. Sluts liked that.

Motivated
women also wanted to be near him, too. Why wouldn’t they? He wasn't only
good-looking. Trent had power and money, and those two things were the biggest
aphrodisiacs of all. He was a big important man going somewhere. Lesser people
recognized that about him

"You
like that don't you, you little slut?" he said as he pounded inside the
woman in ever increasing fast short strokes.

"Oh,
yes!" she moaned. "Yes!"

"Fuck,
I'm going to come, baby," he gasped

The
sharp ring of the interoffice phone interrupted him and he swore viciously and
stopped thrusting. Talking a deep calming breath he answered it. "Tina,"
he said through clenched teeth. He kept his voice mild, yet it resonated with
suppressed menace. "I told you to hold my calls."

"Yes,
Sir, I know, Sir," she said rapidly in a tone that was apologetic and
clearly meant to pacify him. "But it's your ex-wife on the phone and she
is pretty upset. She said if she isn’t allowed to speak to you she will come
right over here and make a scene."

"Shit.
Alright put her on." Trent pulled out, ripped off his condom and threw it
in the trash. He was beginning to go soft and that really pissed him off. He
snapped his fingers, pointed to the floor, and gave Mary a look. Good little
ambitious slut that she was, she immediately went to her knees. Taking his
shaft into her mouth, her cheeks hollowed as she began to suck.

Marcy's
voice was like fingernails on a blackboard to Trent's mind. The woman droned on
and on. Apparently Katie had broken her arm. Bored, Trent put his attention on
the little whore at his feet that was intent on pleasuring him. Fuck she was
good. Her breath on his balls, the sensation of her tongue tickling over his
ridges, the way she held and stroked him, and that solid sucking. God damn, Mary
was eager to please.

"So
what's the bottom line here?" he interrupted, attempting to end the
conversation. "Are you asking for money?"

"I
am not calling you to ask for money," she claimed in a shrill voice. "Have
I ever asked you for money? I'm calling to inform you and to ask you to please
come and visit Katie. I know that she'll want you to visit her."

"Marcy,
I'm snowed under," he snapped. Irritated, he took his frustration out on
the woman kneeling before him by grabbing the back of her head, and pushing
himself deep, right down her throat. Unskilled at deep throating, the woman
gagged. He pulled out a bit, and then shoved himself in again, out, in, until
her nose was buried deep into his pubic hair.

Mary
didn’t try to pull away, and Trent didn’t expect her to. She should be getting
used to it by now.

"I
can't drop everything, Marcy," Trent said, pulling back a bit to let the
dirty little whore fill her lungs with a gasp. Apparently grateful for the respite,
Mary became even more enthusiastic in her attentions to his dick. Trent ran his
free hand through her hair, resting it on her nape.

"I've
been invited to an important V.I.P. dinner tonight," Trent said. "The
Carltons invited me – you know, the Carltons of GM? Not many people can say
that. I'm in with the real Movers and Shakers now. I have to keep up."

"Trent,
she is your daughter, too!" The fat ugly cow screamed in his ear.
"You obviously have a lot on your plate. Go enjoy that important V.I.P. charity
dinner and create your links to possible future clients - I don’t give a damn!
You are a total shit and you don’t deserve to have a daughter anyway!" The
phone went silent.

Trent
snorted. "Stupid bitch," he muttered. He knew that tone of voice. The
woman wasn't going to let up. He looked down at Mary who was diligently working
his cock. "Yeah, baby, that's good," he said. "You're one horny
little slut, aren’t you? You love sucking cock. Keep doing that and you're gonna
make me real happy."

He
pressed a button and spoke on the phone to his secretary, while smiling down at
the woman between his legs. "Tina?"

"Yes,
Sir?"

"Can
you please get some flowers and a 'Get well' card? Send them to my ex-wife's
address. Put on the card,
'Dear Katie, get well soon. Love Dad.'"

"Yes,
Sir. Of course. I'll do that right away," she said brightly.

"Thank
you so much, Tina," he said. "You're a life saver." Trent hung
up, still incredibly irritated.

He
spread Mary's dress open. The buttons were already undone, her bra pushed down
to display her pert little breasts. Using his thumb and forefinger he grabbed
both of her tits. Squeezing her nipples, Trent held on hard. He began thrusting
then, fucking her face while using her breasts for leverage.

"Shit
that feels good, baby," he growled, breathing rapidly. His dick was fucking
huge, throbbing and
pounding with blood, ready for release.
"I'm going to shoot all over that pretty face of yours. You want that?
Want my hot jizz to spray all over you?"

A
mumbled sound and nod signaled her affirmative. Not that what she wanted
mattered in the least. Trent planned to do exactly what he wanted to do in any
case.

He
bucked when his balls tightened and his groin clenched in pre-orgasmic
stiffening. Pulling out, he rapidly fisted his cock with his right hand, while
grabbing Mary's hair in a tight grip to place her face exactly where he needed
it to be.

"Keep
that mouth open, yeah that's right, you dirty little whore…there you go!"
he gasped as he
ejaculated repeatedly
into her
mouth, on her lips, nose, cheeks and eyes in pulsing sprays of release.

As
a healthy man in his prime, Trent had an impressive amount of semen. Ropes of
it covered the woman's face. Some even got in her hair. Trent jerked and
grunted while w
aves of pleasure rushed out into his body from his
testicles, thighs and shaft.

"Fuck
that was good," he said, putting his cock back into her mouth.

Mary
instantly began licking him clean. They had done this before and she knew the
drill. He hated it when his dick was sticky with cum. She would make it
spotless before he tucked himself back into his trousers.

When
she was finished he zipped himself up. Still on her knees, Mary was covered in
cum, half dressed, and disheveled. "Go clean yourself up," he said
with a smirk. "What will our patients think?"

Mary
smiled and stood up. "Yes, Sir," she said with a saucy grin, clearly
happy to have pleased him.

And
why shouldn’t she be happy?
Trent thought.
Mary is
lucky enough to work for me.
And I am a very powerful and important man.