Martha's Second Chance

"So is it true you are fucking that crazy old lady?" she screamed.

"If you mean Martha Stratharn then no, I am not fucking her."

"Dennis Parker says he sees your work scooter there all afternoon every day. Explain that asshole."

"I deliver her food every day. Sometimes she invites me in to talk," he said calmly.

"What the hell would that crazy old bitch have to talk about. She's afraid to go outside, what would she know."

"She likes to read and watch programming other than a reality show. She's pretty smart."

"God damn dried up old cunt. You just better stay the fuck away from her if you want any more pussy from me."

"I had hoped to break it to you gently but I will not stand here and listen to you badmouth Martha Stratharn. Goodbye Cassie, I wish you well. Thank you for your hospitality."

"You're fucking leaving me? Oh no motherfucker, ain't no way you are just walking out that door, you owe me. You owe me money and a round of breakup sex."

"How much do I owe you Cassie? In money, there is not going to be any sex involved," he said reasonably.

"You been here mooching off me for two months," she held out her hand and said, "I want $1000 or I'm gonna call the cops. And you damn sure are going to fuck me. Your cock fills my ass just right and I want your nut in my ass, right after I get my money."

"There is $1200 on the counter. Use the extra $200 to pay someone to fuck your ass. Goodbye Cassie."

She stood there stunned then leaped in front of the door. "I ain't letting you take any of your things until you fuck me," she said smugly.

"Look around, my stuff is already in my truck. Please move away from the door."

Just as she started to reply there was a knock at the door. Cassie swung around and yanked the door open. A Sheriff's deputy was standing there. He didn't say a word he just crooked his finger at Ricky and then stood aside. When Ricky got into the hall the deputy gently closed the door in Cassie's astonished face. The deputy smiled and led the way out of the building.

Mike was leaning against Ricky's truck and grinning. He introduced Ricky to the deputy saying they were old friends. Mike and Ricky thanked him and he tipped his hat and walked to his patrol car. Ricky realized he had never spoken a word.

"Debbie and I figured this wouldn't go well so I set this up. Let's get you home and settled in buddy."

That afternoon when Ricky told Martha about last evening, but without the sex drama part, she seemed very pleased that he had done the right thing.

She asked, "That means your evenings are free now correct? I mean you don't have a curfew or a bed check do you?"

He laughed and said, "No but I'm not sure how I would answer their questions if, oh I don't know, I got in very late or maybe didn't come home at all. How would you feel if I told them the truth?"

"I never thought of that. Are they trustworthy people? I wouldn't want our relationship to be common knowledge. Not that I am ashamed of you but people are so petty and vicious."

"Well your nosy neighbor Dennis Parker was the one who told Cassie we were spending time together."

"I will give you a key to the gate in the alley. You can park back there. Better yet I will give you a key to the garage and you can park inside."

"That would take care of that. I think we can trust Mike and Debbie Carter too. Why don't you give me the keys I need and let me check things out."

The gate was a match to the one in front of the house. The lock was stiff and he would have to use his trusty can of WD40 on it. The garage was actually the old carriage house back in the day. There were four stalls that opened onto the alley. He went to the side to use the man door and saw a set of stairs leading to the area above the garage. Out of curiosity he climbed them and looked through he grubby window. There was a hallway that ran all the way to the other end of the building. There was a kitchen with a large table and eight chairs. He could see closed doors down both sides of the hall. Servants quarters, that's what it was.

He went down the stairs and unlocked the side door of the garage. It was dark and he fumbled around for a bit before finding the light switches. Two banks of bright lights came on nearly blinding him. His eyes adjusted and he let out a low whistle. Three of the stalls were occupied and three other cars were under tarps sideways against the back wall.

The first car was a gull-wing 1954 Mercedes 300 SL Coupe. My god he thought, they only made like 1400 of them. He heard about them selling for a million dollars. One of the cars was recognizable even under the tarp, a 1970 Dodge Daytona with the high spoiler a 440 and a six pack. Not hugely expensive but still $100,000. Next to the Mercedes was a Rolls Royce Phantom III 4 door Cabriolet. He wasn't sure of the year but it was half a million at least. At the end of the row was a 1995 Porsche 993. There was a thick layer of dust on everything. It was obvious no one had been in the garage for years. He didn't want to keep Martha waiting and went through the yard to the back door.

She greeted him with a smile and an iced tea. She asked him if the garage would do to park his truck in. He looked at her and said, "You do know that there are at least two million dollars worth of cars out there."

"Yes I'm sure, daddy's precious Mercedes and Rolls. The 993 is mine, my going away to college car. A week after they bought it we learned that freshmen were not allowed vehicles on campus. I think I drove it three times. It has maybe 500 miles on it."

"What are you keeping them for?"

"Why not? They are not hurting anything by sitting there."

"How about because two million is a lot of money?"

"Oh but it's not, not really," she replied nonchalantly.

"Martha I'm not prying and if you don't want to tell me then don't. How much are you worth?"

"I get statements from the trust manager but I don't really pay attention, I suppose it is in the vicinity of 250 million."

"That is, wow, a lot of money. Martha with that amount of money why haven't you sought help for your condition?"

"I suppose it is because of my first two failed attempts at treatment. By the time I had given up on them I found I was comfortable being by myself in this house. Back then there was mail order from catalogs. The local grocer has always been kind enough to deliver my phone orders. Since the internet became so huge and with so many options I am even more content to be inside."

"But haven't you ever wanted to travel? See the pyramids, Taj Mahal, the Eiffel tower, anywhere."

"I have actually seen all of them in person. Every summer my father took us on a one or two month excursion to somewhere. I have memories of more than fifteen worldwide trips. With the latest VR gear I have been to hundreds of places."

"But don't you want to see them in person? Touch them, taste the food, breath the air."

"Feel crowds of people, open spaces, narrow alleys, pollution, noise? Thank you but no, even the VR has come close to giving me a panic attack."

"How about a walk through this neighborhood on a quiet fall evening, leaves crunching underfoot, distant sounds of children playing, the smell of a wood fire."

"That does sound lovely, but what happens when I meet a group of say six people and they crowd around me and want to talk. What about witnessing an accident or seeing a crime. What happens to the calm then? Anxiety is waiting for the negatives. I can envision a hundred negatives that could happen on a quiet evening stroll."

"How about you envision me carrying you to your bedroom to ravish you tonight?" he said moving in for a goodbye kiss.

"That sounds really lovely."

"I saw a huge grill in the garage. How about I pick up some steaks and charcoal and I'll cook us some good red meat to give us strength for later?"

"Oh Richard that would be divine. It's been twenty five years since I've eaten a steak fresh off the grill, I find my mouth is watering. I have potatoes we can bake and salad fixings. Do we need anything else?"

"You like corn on the cob? Nothing better than corn caramelized on the grill."

"That sounds delicious but let us save that for another time. If I ate all that you won't be carry me up the stairs."

"OK then next time, although," he laughed "we seem to have a good time on the kitchen floor."

"Kiss me and leave you barbarian," she said smiling.

The old grill weighed a ton and Ricky nearly gave himself a hernia getting it up on the back porch. He wanted her to see and talk to him while he grilled. Someone had thoroughly cleaned the grill before it was stored away. He had picked up a set of grill tools, lighter fluid and charcoal at Walmart. All he had to do was go over the grates with a brush and oil them before putting the meat on. He had asked at the restaurants about who had the best meat and they all said Wrazkowski's. He had picked out a couple of Porterhouse steaks that weighed two pounds a piece.

He got the charcoal going and while waiting asked Martha if he could make the potatoes. She agreed and watched as he sliced two large potatoes very thin. Then he sliced an onion and cut each slice in small chunks. He asked her where her aluminum foil was and pulled off two pieces from the roll. He put the spuds and the onions on a piece of foil, added butter and salt and pepper. He folded the foil around the potatoes and put them upside down on the other sheet of foil. He folded that around the first package and went to check the grill. He spread the coals out and put the potatoes to one side and lowered the lid.

"We'll give them half an hour then flip them over and put on the steaks. How do you like yours?" he asked.

"Medium if you can. I have never seen anyone make potatoes on the grill that way, interesting. You are quite the chef Richard."

"Not a chef, but I have cooked in several kitchens. The potatoes are what my family called garbage can potatoes, I don't know why really."

They chatted and shared a bottle of Malbec while they waited. He told her about growing up always restless. They wanted to put him on ADD meds but his grandfather said absolutely not. He said the boy had the wanderlust and leave him be. At seventeen he packed his stuff in his pickup and left. He still called home when he could borrow someones cell phone. He had made it back for Christmas that first year. His mom had hoped he was home for good but his dad's present had been a prepaid gas card.

The steaks were cooked to perfection and Martha claimed the potatoes were the best she had ever had. Martha had made strawberry shortcake for dessert. They cleaned up the kitchen and made sure the grill was out.

Ricky said, "Where is your room so I don't have to carry you all over the house looking for it?"

"Yes I suppose it is that time," she said nervously, "up the stairs, second on the right."

"I'm going to touch you now alright?"

"Yes, I'm ready," she said as she steeled herself.

He walked up to her and put his hands on her waist and smiled. She nodded at him she waited for him to put an arm behind her shoulders and the other behind her knees. He totally surprised her by bending and putting his shoulder into her stomach and standing with her in a fireman's carry. He flexed his knees and bounced her up and a couple of times then bent and set her on her feet. The ice was broken and they laughed hysterically. He then picked her up as she had expected and carried her to the room.

It was a rather spartan room with only a bed, chair and chest of drawers. On the dresser was an old fashioned pitcher and bowl with a couple of towels. He put her down and looked around.

"This is a guest room," she explained, "I don't want to make love in my room in case this is all a mistake and you leave me. I couldn't bear to sleep in that room then."

"I love it," he said, "the iron head and foot board's are ideal for restraining me. The window is to the back of the house so no one will hear me scream when you punish me, it's perfect."

She blushed deeply and said, "That may be true but tonight is about you making love to me."

"No, it's about you punishing me, making me worthy of worshiping you Mistress Martha."

"I had not thought you would be so wicked as to need punishment before making love to me."

"I'm sorry mistress but that is not true. If you don't punish me how can I appreciate what an extraordinary woman you are. I bet if I looked in that top drawer I would find the means for you to teach me to be a good slave, a good lover."

With that he opened the drawer and found the things he had purchased, in addition were handcuffs that were heavily padded, another heavier flogger and a black blindfold.

She blushed again and explained, "I went online and ordered these other things. I want to explore how harsh I can be in punishing you but I don't want to hurt you at the same time. Does that make any sense?"

"Yes mistress it makes perfect sense, I understand completely," he said picking up the padded cuffs. He emptied the pockets of his jeans then removed his shoes and got on his knees facing the headboard. He clicked the cuffs on and found they were very comfortable.

"Stupid slave, you forgot to remove your shirt," she scolded him.

"Yes mistress, maybe you should use my knife on the dresser to cut it off me. Maybe I would remember to be a better slave."

He heard the knife snick open and her gasp. It was a wicked looking tactical knife with a matte black blade. She ran her hand with the blade under his shirt all the way to the collar and brought the blade up cutting the cloth like butter. She only cut about six inches then withdrew her hand. Carefully folding the blade she put it on the bed. With both hands she took hold of the shirt and with a jerk tore it all the way in two. She unfolded the blade and quickly cut the remains of his shirt from his arms.

She was panting from excitement as she got off the bed laying the knife on the dresser and picking up the new flogger. It had twenty tails each an inch wide made of rough leather. The handle was braided leather with a large leather ball at the end for a good grip. She swished it through he air to get a feel for it and then gently ran the tips of the tails from his waist to his neck. He shivered from the light contact. She did it one more time getting a shiver and a moan from him.

Without warning she laid the whip into his back. She waited four seconds and delivered another blow. After the third he said, "Harder Mistress Martha, humiliate me, show me how much better you are than me, how much you are in control."

She increased the force of the next blow and grunted, "I am in control, I am powerful. I was going to give you ten but you haven't been counting slave."

Ricky quickly said, "Four mistress."

NO," she roared, "that was one. Now we have to start again."

After he had counted the next five he begged her, "Harder please mistress. Six, harder please. Seven harder please. Eight harder mistress. Nine all you have this time. Ten he said finally letting out a groan of pain." He relaxed his back and sank to the mattress.

Martha was worn out and gasping for breath, she dropped wearily to her knees and rested her cheek against the mattress. "Ricky are you all right?"

"Yes I'm good. That was incredible, you would not believe how hard my cock is right now."

"I might," she panted, "my panties have soaked through and I can feel the liquid on my thighs. I will have to clean up before we continue."

"Don't you dare. I want to taste you, suck up all your juice."

"Well if you feel you have been punished enough let's get those cuffs and your clothes off of you."

"Mistress is it up to you to say if I have been punished enough."

"That is right I have total control in deciding your fate haven't I."

"Yes Mistress Martha, I am at your mercy. Do whatever you want to me."

"What I want right now is to feel your tongue and lips on my vagina bringing me to climax, maybe more than once."

She got the cuffs off and looked at his wrists. "Not a mark on them."

"No they were very comfortable, I never realized I had them on. Now stand up and let me get that dress off you."

He took his time and kissed every part of her body as it was exposed. Eventually it fell to the floor and left her in a black lace bra and panty set. The bra pushed her breasts up and together giving her an impressive cleavage. He undid the front clasp and slowly pulled the cups apart. The cleavage disappeared but the breasts hardly sagged at all. He marveled that a forty four year old would have breasts this firm. The nipples were a rosy pink color and stuck out proudly from the areola. They called out to be sucked and he answered that call. In time he continued his journey to the promised land.

He went to his knees kissing a trail to her belly button and tickling it with his tongue. He looked down and saw a few hairs sticking out the top of her panties and got even harder. For some reason it was incredibly exciting to see. He could smell she was very aroused. He reached up and hooked his fingers in the waistband and slowly peeled her panties down. When the panties pulled away from her lips a string of juice stretched four inches before breaking. He pulled them down and she stepped out of them. He chuckled to himself thinking that if he threw them against the wall they would most likely stick.

He gently pushed her against the bed and she sat down. He told her to lie down and grabbing her legs pulled her to the edge of the bed. He parted her legs and leading with his outstretched tongue leaned into the target. The first lap of her lips netted him a delicious taste and a moan from Martha. He quickly lapped up her juices even licking her thighs. He attacked her clitoris next and got it to come out of its hood of flesh. A few more licks and he got his first howl of pleasure from her. She grabbed two handfuls of his hair and he seriously thought she might pull it out. She calmed down from that one and he inserted a finger in her vagina and set her off again. The third scream came when he inserted two fingers and gently bit her clitoris. He let her calm down, slowly kissing her crotch and thighs. She realized she had a death grip on his hair and let it go gently patting his head as if to glue the hair back on.

"Get up and stand in front of me," she commanded him.

She reached for the button and zipper on his jeans then pulled them off. His boxers came down with the pants and she was staring at his penis. She reached a hand up and caressed it.

She looked up at him and said, "It is hard and soft at the same time. If you don't mind this is the first penis I have held in my hand, I would like to explore."

"Explore away, squeeze it harder, stroke your hand up and down. Gently hold my testicles, kind of roll them around in your hand."

"Is this a large penis or average?" she inquired.

"It's six and a half inches so a little longer than average. That feels great, you can kiss, lick or suck on it if you'd like."

"Oh yes I want to fellate you. But I don't want to excite you too much. I want to feel it inside me before you ejaculate."

"I'll let you know when to stop. Hang on before you do anything else." he said. He turned and found the rubbers on the dresser. He quickly rolled one on and stepped in front of her.

"Yes I suppose we should practice safe sex," she grinned, "Although in my case I don't think my last lover gave me anything."

"Yeah," he laughed, "I think you would have noticed something in the last twenty five years. I was checked only three months ago but I did have sex with Cassie so better safe than sorry. I will go get checked next week to make sure."

With that she kissed the head and then started sucking the first two inches. She had a way of popping the head in and out of her mouth and sucking that was driving him wild. He was ready to blow very quickly.