Marcella's Distraction

"Why am I always the one who gets hurt, Alma? Am I really that naive?" Marcella asked her sister, who was a couples therapist.

Alma reached over, caressed her younger sister's hands, and whispered, "Yes! You are very trusting, baby sis."

At thirty-three years old, Marcella Thompson thought she had her life figured out. But it was far from the fact. Being head obstetrician at Castleton General Hospital was a dream come true for her. As she'd always aspired to be a doctor.

Working alongside her father, the Chief, was exhilarating because no one knew they were related—not even him. And she intended to keep it that way!

Chief Manwel Jhan was the devil in disguise, and he made sure everyone around him knew it. Marcella bore no resemblance to her father, and for that she was grateful.

At 5'7", she bore a striking resemblance to her great-grandmother on her mother's side. The only differences were their ages and hair color. While Gran's curls had turned gray with age, Marcella changed hers every three months.

"Why didn't I see through his lies?" Marcella muttered and crossed her freshly waxed legs.

"Men are like kids, Marcella. They can have the best of toys in their toy box, yet they will always want another, even if it's the same kind," she muttered with a faraway look on her face. If only Marcella knew that David spent most of his free time in her bed, she'd never speak so freely.

Alma watched her sister play with her food and cursed herself for the hundredth time. Before meeting Marcella, David lived with his mother in the apartment above her own. On the day opportunity knocked for him, he saw Marcella and her best friend, Tila Fross, a renowned war photographer, having lunch and approached them.

He introduced himself and charmed his way into sharing their table and meal. By the end of the meal, he had acquired both their phone numbers—one for a job interview and the other for a date.

After months of dating, he proposed with the promise to purchase a ring when he landed his first job. Ignoring her friend's and family's warnings, Marcella accepted David's hand in marriage and eventually, they got married. However, she found out too late that all he ever wanted was a ride on her coattails to get closer to Tila.

When she discovered their betrayal, Marcella filed for a divorce and sold the house to the person she knew he despised the most—his father, Shawn Pascual and moved on.

Four years later, David was one of the world's most sought-after photographers, thanks to his wife. With his newfound fame, he had developed a taste for other men's wives and their daughters. But Tila was love-struck, she didn't notice his infidelity.

Last night Faith had other plans for Marcella because at ten thirty, the lovely couple was wheeled into the delivery room and she had the ironic pleasure of delivering their son.

"Listen to me, Marcella. Don't let that idiot become a distraction! You're an intelligent woman and a brilliant doctor. Be the person you were before you met him! That man broke your adventurous spirit, girl. Reclaim it and leap without regrets. Alright?"

Marcella kissed her sister's hands and smiled, "You're right, as always. You always know how to lift my spirits, Alma. I love you so much. Will I see you for dinner?"

"I love you as well. And I'll do my best to be there."

"Great. Hug me, and I'll let you get back to work. I love you."

"I love you too, sis."

As always, after talking to her sister, Marcella felt significantly better.

TWO MONTHS LATER

Today was one of the busiest and most exhausting days Marcella had ever experienced.

And to top it off, when the exhausted woman's flight landed, it was 2 AM. And when she'd finally gotten home she couldn’t find her house keys. Left with no other choice, Marcella had to pick the lock.

Pleased with her accomplishment, Marcella chuckled and switched on the lights, only to see the missing keys in the bowl beside the door.

"Of course!" she remembered now. In her rush to get to the Uber, she'd forgotten it along with her neck pillow.

As she moved through her home, soft music drifted from the adjoined house and she stopped to listen as the person unknowingly serenaded her. Finally, she had a neighbor! It's been months since the house was occupied. The previous owner had died of a heart attack and the house had remained vacant ever since.

After indulging in a long shower and dinner, she fell blissfully asleep, only to be startled an hour later by a sound.

"What the heck was that?" She asked herself and yawned. In the semi-dark bedroom, Marcella checked her bedside clock and gasped. It was three-thirty! She had to be up in five hours!

"Mmm," she groaned into her hands and laid back down.

Her eyes were barely closed again when the sound announced itself once more. Marcella's eyes sprung open and with it, a headache.

She scrunched up her face and muttered, "Was that a saxophone? No way! Why would anyone be playing that at this ungodly hour?"

Marcella tried to go back to sleep but the musician continued to play and the music grew louder and louder.

The solo performance persisted until she reached her breaking point and sat up.

"You've got a neighbor. Have some fucking consideration!" she yelled. But of course, the person couldn't hear her.

So she threw the blanket off her warm body and slipped on a robe. Marcella marched to her front door and flung it open, then followed the short path to the neighbor’s home and banged on the door. It was only after she'd knocked four times she realized that the neighbor wasn't aware that she'd come home.

"Shit!" As she turned to leave, the music stopped and a muscular, shirtless, tattooed man opened the door and groaned. At that moment, Marcella forgot why she was there and struggled to swallow.

"Damn, you're stunning! And you came ready for me, darling. Come here," he said and wrapped her in his muscular arms. He inhaled deeply at her neck, and Marcella felt a thrill run through her.

I should stop this before it spirals out of control, Marcella kept telling herself but ignored her better judgment. Instead, she wrapped her arms and legs around him and playfully licked his ear.

"Mmm, I'm going to make you scream," he said, guiding her into his home.

Marcella's sex-starved body took control, and she reached for his erection, smirking when he hissed.

"Promise?" she whispered as he sat down on the couch with her on his lap.

With eager hands, he untied her robe and cursed when he saw her nakedness, then blew on her erected nipples.

"Oh my," she whimpered and reached between them. Without thinking, Marcella lifted herself and sank her willing body onto his erection, feeling an electric jolt shoot through her as she slowly glided down.

The man squeezed her hips and froze. He'd felt it too!

"Holy fuck. What was that?" he murmured and released her hips.

"Ask me later. Just fuck me. Don't stop until you cum," she commanded.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a smirk and thrust his hips upward as he pounded into her. "Cum for me, beautiful," he whispered against her ear while his fingers toyed with her left nipple.

"Arghh, Fuck! Arggh, I'm cumming." Marcella's eyes fluttered shut as her stomach coiled tightly. As a fiery sensation pooled within her, she lost herself in pleasure.

The man held her trembling body closer but never ceased thrusting.

"Oh, baby. Yes, that's it. Bounce on my cock. Ride me. Oh God, your pussy's so warm," he breathed.

Within moments, Marcella found herself on her hands and knees on the plush carpet as he pushed her toward ecstasy.

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," he shouted, pounding harder than she had ever experienced. He took it further by flicking her throbbing clit, and she screamed.

"Fuckkkkkk. Harderrrrr," her wetness squelched with every thrust! "Oh, my God!"

He complied with her request, and Marcella felt herself soaring. This had to be a dream; no one could be this incredible in bed!

She felt his shudder as he said, "Arghh, fuck, you're gonna make me cum!"

That was the last thing he muttered before he pressed her hips down and took longer, deeper strokes as he released himself.

"Ohhhh, yesss, oh fuck!" he hissed, slapping her bottom repeatedly.

Marcella was in a daze. She refused to believe this was real.

They both gasped for breath, their breaths quickening and ragged.

"Lay on your side," he whispered all the while his cock remained in her. "Stay with me. I'll take you back in the morning."

What was he talking about? Who did he think she was? Then it dawned on her. Oh my God. Did he take her for a call girl?

"No, I have to go. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to escalate," she told him, avoiding his gaze as she stood.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in confusion. "That was amazing!" and she watched his erection throb in response.

"Mmmm," she said, feeling unabashed.

Marcella watched as he stride toward her and her knees turned weak.

"Turn around," he commanded.

She felt his warm chest against her back and his hot erection pressed against her. "Stay," he murmured, caressing her neck.

"Mmm. I can't."

"Let me persuade you," he whispered and he gently bit her neck.

"Mmmm." Marcella's body leaned forward, and his erection slid into her slick core.

"Ahhh fuck!" he groaned, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"Jesus. Don't stop," she urged, moving with him.

"I have no intention of stopping, darlin'," he assured her, quickening the pace.

“Urgh. Right there. That’s the spot!”

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming. Holy fuck! Argh, argh. Oh fuck, baby," he cried, releasing once more.

This pattern continued for days. She'd knock and he'd take her in his arms when the door opened. They never exchanged names, and she always left for work before he awoke. He still spoke of taking her back, and whenever she questioned him about it, he frowned in response.

One night, a knock interrupted their rest, and Marcella glanced at him, sensing that something was about to happen.

“Let me get that. Don’t move.”

"Wait!" She exclaimed, licking her lips.

"Hold on a sec, let me handle our visitor," he insisted, striding to the door.

Marcella looked around his apartment and pressed her lips together. "I'm not who you think I am," she shouted as soon as he opened the door, and a woman leaped into his arms, squealing. From her vantage point, the woman reeked of alcohol.

"Oh, Avery. I've missed you so much. I'm glad you're back," she said, kissing him passionately.

Marcella watched them as her heart plummeted, unsure of why she felt this way. It took several gulps to swallow the lump in her throat before she squeezed past the couple.

"Excuse me," she murmured, exiting his home.

"Get off me, Roslyn," she heard him say, followed by his rapid footsteps behind her.

"Who are you?" he asked.

With her lips in her mouth, Marcella's cheeks flushed, and she tightened her robe. "I am your neighbor," she finally replied.

"What?" He exclaimed and glanced at her illuminated home.

"The first time I knocked on your door, I came to ask if you could turn down your music, or rather, your instrument," she explained, sighing. "I shouldn't have let things escalate. But you looked so damn delicious and your cock quenched my thirst, that I lost all sense of reason," she sighed then said softly, "I'm sorry."

He stood there, watching her as the woman called for him from the doorway.

"Your girlfriend is calling you," Marcella remarked, glancing at the woman. She was tall and beautiful. A stark contrast to Marcella's height. Her long, curly hair only added to her allure.

The man called Avery shook his head and glared at the woman, "She's not my girlfriend," and then muttered. "She's my brother's wife."