(c) 2015, 2022 by Sir Render
Marcy Jacobson, suburban housewife, had finished her thirty minute daily exercise routine. With her husband Michael at work and her kids, eighteen year old Mark and seventeen year old Melanie, at school, she had the house to herself all day long every week day. She could have sat around the house eating ice cream and watching soap operas, but she was too proud of her figure to let it go. Also she and Michael were secretly on the swinger scene and she kept up her appearance for the other men she was fucking as well.
Her tight exercise outfit clung to her sweaty body and she went to the kitchen for a tall glass of water. Her son Mark would be coming home from school soon. He was a senior at the local high school and would be going to college the next year. Melanie was a junior at the same school and was way ahead of the rest of her class in terms of book smarts, however she was not very popular. Mark was also not exactly popular, but he was well liked and had a large group of friends with whom he hung out on weekends. His one big flaw was that he was a bit of a pushover, going along with just about any crazy idea and changing his style each time some new fad came along. In short, he had no backbone.
Truth be told, though Marcy would never herself have admitted to it, being her first she doted on Mark all his life and he often felt smothered by her attention which, in his teen years, felt like prying.
She heard Mark's car stop in the driveway and a moment later another car screeched to a stop in the street. Marcy, her mothering instinct leaping to the worst possible conclusion, hurried to the door to be sure her baby wasn't hurt.
Well he wasn't hurt, but he was about to be. Mark was hurriedly fumbling with his keys to open the front door and a bigger guy wearing a sleeveless tee shirt and ripped denim jeans was rushing across their lawn toward him shouting insults.
Marcy got the door open and Mark stood for a moment in surprise. This gave the bigger guy time enough to reach them and he tackled Mark to the ground. The two tumbled in through the open doorway, bowling Marcy out of the way. The bigger guy soon put Mark in a headlock with one strong arm and began to punch his thigh with his other fist. It was evident to Marcy that they were not playing.
Now Marcy, it must be said, is not a shrinking violet. She was a stunning looker, with her tight body and full, round breasts and her puckered lips but she stood five feet nine inches and, while not what one might consider muscular, she kept herself toned and fit and could hold her own when push came to shove, as it was doing on her entryway floor. Marcy shouted at them to stop and when that did not work she reached down and took the other guy by his hair and pulled until he cried out in pain and let go of her son, though he kicked Mark in the leg on his way to standing.
Full of rage, adrenaline flowing and heart pounding in her ears, Marcy pushed the unnamed attacker's back against the wall beside the door with her manicured fingernails digging into his shoulders. "What is going on here?" she barked.
"This damn idiot owes me money," the big guy snapped, motioning with one hand toward Mark who was just picking himself up off the floor.
"What gave you the right to attack him?"
"He spilled soda all over the inside of my new car. He ruined the upholstery." The big guy pointed at Mark and mouthed the words, "You're dead asshole."
Marcy had to struggle to keep him pinned to the wall. He was much bigger and stronger than she was, but for now at least he was cool-headed enough to not knock her down.
"He owes me money or he's gonna pay with broken bones."