It started with a message on my voicemail.

"Hi babe.  Those damn fuckers.  I just got out the meeting and I've had it.  I'm
going home.  See you tomorrow."

I had some trouble hearing the message because she'd called from her car and the
cell phone wasn't living up to its advertised crystal clarity. Her voice was also
low; she sounded very dispirited.

I was late getting back to my office after trying to wrestle another dose of
reality down the throats of the developers.  So, both of us had a trying day, had
we.



Marty and I had started with the company about the same time.  She was their new
marketing hope, lots of big city experience and drive.  Early 30s, she was just
over 6' in her heels, black hair cut short, smart dresser, nice enough to look
at, more so when she began moving around. Then, she was dynamite.  She attacked
the space around her and her rapid movement attracted the eye.  There always
seemed to be a aura of barely suppressed energy about her.

As a contract manager, I was hired because I knew the market, the key clients and
a little about delivering software applications.  We made ourselves into a team
but only during work hours.  She seemed more interested in the young, high flyers
downtown and that disqualified me on two out of three counts.  Still, there was
always hope.



What made the message pique my interest was her use of "babe".  While we called
ourselves all sorts of names, that hadn't been one of them.  She really sounded
down.  I had been to her place only once when I helped her move an antique bonnet
chest from her sister's.  Could I cheer her up?  Should I?  "Faint heart, etc.
etc."  She only had to say, "No."

This should be a little special so I decided to arm myself with the appropriate
weapons designed to at least gain entrance.  Stopping at a shopping mall, I
picked up some red wine that I thought she'd like, assorted finger foods and
three blood red gladiolus stems (the last north of Texas, probably).

Walking back to the car, I passed one of those shops that sells soaps, oils and
other slithery, scented liquids.  "What she needs is a back rub," I thought.

Fifteen minutes and several more swipes of the plastic later, I was ready.

Driving across the city to her apartment, I wasn't sure about all I hoped to
gain.  "See what happens.  Don't push it." ran through my mind like some kind of
calming mantra.

One thing looked good as I turned onto her street.  Some one had messed up and
left a parking space.  Nope, didn't look like there was another movie shoot. 
Whispering a thanks to the traffic gods, I started up the walk towards her
building.

Now, this could be a problem.  If I rang her number, she'd just as likely say she
was too tired.  (I don't go for pressing numbers at random until some poor dumb
soul buzzes me through.)  But, there was a couple leaving as I pulled the outer
door open.  Seeing me all decked out with appropriate "date" type packages, he
winked over the head of his girl friend, wished me "Bonne chance" and let me
through.  The draw bridge was down!



Ringing her door buzzer, I  felt the sweat trickling down my sides.  I could
sense her looking through the security peep hole and heard the lock snick back.

"Hi there...how are you?"  When all fails, crib a line from The Eagles.

Marty was wearing a silk shortie robe, tied at the waist.  Her makeup was off,
her hair was wet and all I could see were her big, dark eyes widening as she
realized what she was facing.

"Here, these need water," handing her the glads.  "This needs opening," pushing a
bottle of wine in her other hand.  "This, I'll light myself," flourishing a tall
candle.  For some reason, I had remembered that her favourite scent was
Patchouli.

There was a pause that went on and on.  The touch of one of her cats figure
eighting around her ankles startled her.  "Come in, you're here now."  Not the
most auspicious welcome, but it wasn't, "Hit the road, Jack."

"Don't put your coat there; there's cat hair all over that chair.  Let me take
it."  Shrugging out of it, I handed it over and she took it into her bedroom.  I
didn't know where to go so I stayed right where I was. The cat came over to
investigate.

Coming back out, she said, "Are you just going to stand there?"  Picking up the
flowers and the wine, she walked into the kitchen.  "There're glasses in the
cabinet.  Don't pet Fleur; she bites."  That's OK.  Blue pin striped suits and
cat fur don't go together.

A little warning, there?  I didn't know but I got the glasses without suffering
any blood letting.

"So, why are you here?" was Marty's question as she popped the cork from the wine
bottle.

"Well, you sounded so down in your message that I decided you needed a soothing
back rub."  Holding up my last bag of scents and oils, "I have these to help out.
 They're guaranteed to make you feel better."  It was a little lame, but I was
winging it.

"You're kidding, aren't you?"

"No and we're going to start right now.  No ifs, ands or buts.  Bring the wine
with you."

Now, we had treated each other as equals at work.  She knew her job and I knew
mine.  We had been able to work together and do some good stuff. This was a
decided departure from our usual bantering back and forth.  I really thought she
needed someone to treat her nicely tonight and if I had to push a little, I
would.

Standing still, Marty looked at me as I took the candles and bottles of oils out
of the bag.  On top of her fridge, at the back, I could see a couple of ash trays
remaining from her ex.  They would be good enough for the larger candles.  I had
bought some coloured glass holders for the tea candles.

"Come on, Marty.  This will make you feel better," and I turned to go out of the
kitchen.  Fleur was standing in the doorway.  "Look, Puss. Move way or you get
drop kicked into next week."  (Not a chance, the cat would cut me to ribbons if I
even looked sideways at her.  Besides, I like cats.)  She moved, though.

I walked into her bedroom and started setting up.  One of the large Patchouli
candles went onto her bedside table, the other on her dresser. Lighting them, I
then lit and placed the little tea candles in their holders around the room. 
Finally, I turned out the lights.

"What are you doing?" came from the door way.

"When we finished, you're going to go right to sleep.  Better here than in the
living room.  This way, you won't have to move."  That was all the rationale I
could think of.

"I don't think so, G.  I really don't want to do anything but..."

"No, Marty," I interrupted.  "Tonight you need some one to do something good to
you, just for you."

Marty was quite proud of her wrought iron bed frame and she had decorated the
room in white.  (This was the first time I had been in here.)  The bed itself
seemed piled with five feet of comforter, pillows, throws and the other things
that women, now living alone, soothe their souls with.

"Do you have a big towel?, I asked Marty.  "I don't want to get anything on your
sheets."  I pulled the comforter and the top sheet down to the foot of the bed. 
"This is your own, very private place.  I appreciate your even letting me in the
door."

As I folded the bedclothes neatly, Marty remained standing in the doorway.  As I
moved back towards her, she held up one hand.  Taking it in mine, I moved closer
to her.

"Look, we've always been les deux etrangers, us against les autres. Tonight's
back rub is just between you and me.  No one else will know."

She didn't pull her hand away but there was a questioning look on her face.

"Marty, let me do it."  I was speaking very quietly.  "You'll have the next 15 or
20 minutes just for yourself.  Indulge yourself a bit.  I guarantee it will be
worth it.  Back rubs are something I know and I want to give you this special
treat tonight.  Maybe it will make up for the shitty time you had this
afternoon."

The lines began disappearing from her face.  "Why a back rub?  My bath relaxed
me."

"Then, this will be the icing on the cake."

I could see her thinking about the prospect.  The set of her shoulders started to
soften and I could see a very small smile light up in her eyes.  Nodding her head
once, Marty whispered, "Okay."

Moving very close to her, I raised her hand and lightly kissed the ring on her
index finger.  Looking her right in the eyes, I could smell the perfume from her
bath.  "This is your place.  You set the rules and you control what happens in
here."  I paused to give her time to accept that.  " Now, about that towel?"

Marty put the wine and glasses down and went into her bathroom.  I took my jacket
off and put in on the chest under the window.  Rolling up the sleeves of my
shirt, I walked into the kitchen to wash my hands.  This would make sure that
they were clean as well as warming them up.

Moving back to the bedroom, I saw Marty had got out one of those big beach
towels.

"Perfect," I said and spread it out on the bed.  "Would you like some wine?"  I
knew that I was going to need something soon.  "There's also a couple of things
to munch on.  Have you had anything to eat?

I felt there was some sort of momentum going but I certainly wasn't going to
force anything with her.  I had probably usurped all the control I could. 
Pouring the wine wouldn't break the rhythm too much, I thought.

"We need a toast, or something," I said as I handed her a glass.  To quote one
who knows, "Fuck em; they're all assholes.'"

We both started to laugh and repeated the toast in unison.  The Aussies make damn
fine red wine.

"But, you haven't told me everything," Marty queried and she came further into
her bedroom.

"I decided that a back rub was what you needed.  It's that simple.  Have another
sip of wine and lie down on your bed."

I was looking at the different bottles in the dim candle light.  I hoped this was
relaxing oil, not the energizing one.  (The latter was for some other time, I
hoped).  I was surprised that Marty was going along with this.  If I had tried
ordering her around at work, there would have been the equivalent of low-yield
thermonuclear explosion.  Here, in her own apartment, she was different.  As long
as I merely opened a door and left it up to her, she was prepared to go through
it.

I could see that mentioning her bed had brought her doubts back to the surface. 
I understood her hesitation.

"Marty, haven't we always trusted each other at work?  Don't we work well
together?"

"Yes, but..."

"No buts.  A minute ago, you decided that you would accept a back rub from me,
didn't you?"

"Yes, but..."

"Marty, stop that," I countered a little more firmly.  "Trust me now. This is my
gift to you.  When it's over, you'll not even know why you wondered."

I stopped again to let her agree to what was going to happen.  "I want to do this
and I think you want me to do it, too.  But, it's your choice."

"All right.  It would feel good, wouldn't it?"

"Marty, let's be sure between the two of us.  You do want me to give you a back
rub, don't you?

"Yes, I do."

The robe was going to be a problem.  For the first time, I really looked at
Marty.  Even in the low light, it was obvious she wasn't wearing anything under
it.

"I'm going to see if you've any CDs to play.  While I'm gone, open the robe up,
slip your arms out and fold it down to your waist.  It's warm enough in here so
you won't get cold.  Then, lie down on the bed."  I left the bedroom thinking
that might prompt her to follow my instructions.

I picked out the "You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To" volume from The Mercury
Songbook collection.  Setting the CD on repeat, I returned to the bedroom.

Marty was lying on her front with her face towards the door.  Her back was bare
with the robe draped over her butt.  There was a question in her eyes but the
vertical lines between her eyebrows had disappeared. The scent of the Patchouli
was much stronger now and Marty was no longer displaying any discomfort at my
being in her bedroom.

Rubbing my hands together, I sat down on the edge of her bed.  Opening the bottle
of oil, I poured a little onto my left hand.  Holding it down near her nose, I
asked, "Smell okay?"

Marty nodded her head so I poured some more onto my hand.  I put the bottle on
the table and transferred oil to my right hand.  Starting just at the top of her
spine, I began gently to rub the oil into her skin. As I moved the oil out onto
her shoulder blades, I realized that this was going to take some time.

When I had spread the oil out, I started to increase the pressure on Marty's back
with the heels of my hands.  I could feel the bumps along her spine as I
increased the size of the circles.  I ran the sides of my thumbs up and down the
troughs next to her spinal column.  As her skin warmed up, I could feel little
shifts in her body as she settled into her bed.

There was still enough oil so I moved my hands out to her upper arms and around
the outer edges of her shoulders.  (She was really a lot thinner than I had
imagined back in the office.)  Marty had tucked her forearms under her body but
now she lifted her torso up a little and laid her arms down by her sides.

Once I felt that the upper portion of her back was covered, I poured some more
oil onto my hands and started on her arms.  As I reached between her left arm and
her side, I happened to scrape a finger against her ribs.  With a jerk, she
looked over her shoulder at me.

"Ticklish?" I asked.

"A little."

"I'll try to be careful."  But I flicked her rib cage again.

Working my thumbs into the flesh of her arm, I worked down to her hand. With the
back of her hand lying on the towel, I gently stroked the palm of her hand with
my fingernails and was rewarded with another twitch.

"I said I'd be careful.  I didn't say I wouldn't tickle you."  Marty responded
with a short chuckle.

I moved to the other side of the bed to work on her right side.  More oil and
more soothing pressure, I hoped.  While there, I returned to her back and began
moving the oil, spreading it in circles lower down her back.  Again, I was taken
by how fragile her ribs seemed to be.  Here, there was very little in the way of
muscle sheathing and I tried to find just the right pressure without being too
light or too heavy.

I had now done all of her back above the bunched up fabric of her robe. Wiping my
hands on the bottom corner of the towel, I gently picked up what I thought was
the top fold to move it down some more.  I saw that instead of just slipping out
of the top part of her robe, Marty has undone the tie.  I lifted the entire robe
from her and placed it over the pillows next to her head.

I now had just under six feet of warm, ivory coloured woman lying on her bed. The
candles cast a  yellow, softly flickering light over Marty's back, buttocks and
legs.  Despite her slender build, there wasn't a sharp curve to her body.  Not
wanting her to get chilled, I returned to the back rub.

With more oil in the palms of my hands, I started to rub it into the base of her
spine and the flare of her hips.  Again, there were some small shifts in her body
as the oil on my hands warmed her.  The crease between the halves of her buttocks
was in deep shadow as my thumbs started to massage them.  I started to dig deeper
with my fingers, pulling the flesh on her buttocks up and outwards.

"That's not my back," came a muffled comment from Marty.

I leaned down and dropped a soft kiss on the dimples above her crack. Her skin
twitched again from the bristles of my beard and moustache. This close, I could
see the fine dark hair radiating out across the shelf of her buttocks.

Turning around, I poured some oil onto the back of her right thigh. With both
hands, I started running down her legs, easing up on the tender skin of the backs
of her knees.  The fingers of my right hand were between her legs and I could
feel a slight tremor in the long muscles of her thigh.  Reaching, I massaged her
calf but that was as far as I could go from my sitting position.

I stepped to the end of the bed and lifted her foot.  I started in on the ball
and arch of her foot with my two thumbs while I just grazed the delicate skin on
the top of her foot with my fingertips.

I looked up the length of Marty's body and returned my gaze to the junction of
her legs.  The shadow was too deep to see anything but I knew that I wanted to
more than massage that part of her.

"Warm enough?" I asked.  I could see her short black hair nod an assent. I ran my
oily fingers between her toes and deposited a kiss on the pad of each one of
them.

Picking up her left foot, I repeated the ministrations and left another five
kisses.  With more oil again, I began her left leg.  At some point, I had dragged
my tie on the surface of her skin and I could see a little glint of candlelight
on the end.  This was much too enjoyable to worry about a $60 tie.

As I moved up her calf, I saw that Marty had spread her legs a little and I could
see some tendrils of hair at the top of her thighs.  I repeated running my hands
up her thighs but, this time, I was facing her.  I deliberately ran my hand
deeper up her leg until just below where I thought the hair between her legs
would be.

I brought my fingertips up in a arc, tracing the join of her thigh and buttock. 
At this point, I noticed that Marty's breathing had quickened. So had mine as I
realized that that was an honest erection in my pants.

Holding her upper thigh in my hands, I rotated my right hand down between her leg
until my palm was almost underneath.  My index finger brushed against her on the
downstroke and I pressed against her mound as I withdrew my hand.  I could feel
the heat emanating from her pussy on the back of my hand.

Bending over, I kissed the tops of her buttocks and gave a little lick to the
crease between them.  I don't know whether the oil had any taste but I could
smell the faint aroma of her feminine arousal.  It was still getting warmer in
her bedroom and the mixture of her closeness and the scents in the room were
giving me a high.

"Would you like some more wine?" I asked as I came up to her head. Marty's eyes
opened and she just looked at me.  I wiped my hands on the towel and poured wine
into both glasses.

"Why don't you turn over?  You can drink your wine and I can do your front."  I
know there was a tremble in my voice when I said it.

Looking up at me and said, "You want to, don't you?"

"What does this bulge in my pants tell you," I responded.  "But, it's your
choice.  I can go now, or any time you say."

"I'd like some more wine."  With that, she turned over and held out her hand. 
God, she was beautiful.  No fancy power clothes, no high priced make up, nothing
other than what she was.

Her breasts were capped with dark brown areolae, their nipples barely visible. 
As I looked down her body, I could see a very faint sheen of sweat captured in
the light of the large candle at the head of the bed. Leaning up on her elbow,
Marty took a sip, then a second.

"Come here," she said.  I bent down and she lifted her left arm up to grasp my
neck.  I could faintly taste the wine on her lips, a taste that became stronger
as she pushed her tongue between my lips.  I slipped my arms around her body and
pulled her into my chest as our kiss deepened.

"You're going to get oil on everything.  Take your clothes off."

"It's still your say, Marty.  All you have to say..."

"My say is yes.  Is that clear enough?"

I slipped off my braces, undoing my tie (which got a little complicated at one
point).  Undoing the buttons of my shirt, I continued by unzipping my pants. The
shirt hit the floor and I stepped out of my pants and shorts.  Shoes and socks
followed.  I didn't have the advantage of an after-work shower so she was going
to have to take me the way I was.

I sat down on the bed and reached for the bottle of oil.  This time, I poured a
little onto the upper slopes of her breasts.  As I reached to begin rubbing it
into her skin, Marty wrapped her hand around my erect penis in the hitchhiker
grip.  She started to rub her thumb around the glans as I rubbed circles of the
oil into both her breasts.

Under my thumbs, I could feel her nipples begin to stiffen so I increased the
pressure, scooping them up in the V between my thumbs and index fingers.  Lifting
her breasts away from her chest, I brought my lips down to her left breast and
drew the nipple into my mouth.  I flicked my tongue across the nipple and ran my
tongue around it, pressing down into the mass of her breast.

I took this nipple between my teeth, rolling it back and forth.  Marty's left
hand was back behind my neck holding me down to her.  I could feel her finger
nails running up through my hair, digging into my scalp, sending shivers down my
spine and goose bumps across my back.

Replacing my lips with my hand, I switched to her other breast and gave it the
same adoring attention.  My hand had continued its milking motion on her right
breast. Marty's right hand was not content merely to hold my penis as she started
to move the loose skin up and down, very slowly jacking me off.  At the top of
the stroke, her thumb stroked across the sensitive tip, smearing my pre-cum
around the head.

As I worshiped at her breast, I could feel the light tracings on her nails on my
chest.  She skimmed her fingers through my chest hair until she could feel my
nipple.  Grasping it between her thumb and middle finger, she flicked it with the
nail on her index finger.

As I started to move down her body, Marty lifted both hands above her head.  I
looked up in alarm, fearing that some limit had been reached. Instead, I saw that
she had grabbed the bars of the headboard and was tensing the muscles in her arms
and upper body.  As she relaxed, I kissed her armpit, licking up the traces of
sweat that had gathered there.

I poured a small amount of oil into her navel.  Using my thumbs, I moved it over
her stomach, reaching up to the arch of her rib cage.  Marty was still doing her
version of horizontal situps and I could feel her abs contracting under my hands.
 As she would tense, I would move my hands out to her sides, gradually moving
lower until I met the rising slope of her softly furred mons.

It wasn't only her arms that were moving now.  Marty's hips were starting a
little dance of their own.  I looked up to see a little frown appear on her face.
 This seemed to deepen each time Marty rotated her pelvis upwards in time with
her upper body contractions.

Moving up to the head of the bed, I asked, "Okay?"

"It's been a long time," she murmured.  "I'm just getting ready."

I ran my tongue between her lips and Marty brought her arms down to wrap me
closer to her.  I darted my tongue into her mouth, pushing at her teeth and the
inside of her lips.  Her tongue met mine and drove back into my mouth.

The panting was becoming louder as we broke apart.

Marty brought her left leg up and tapped my shoulder with her knee.  I put my
hand behind her knee and pushed the heel of my hand into the underside of her
thigh.  I ran it down the length of her thigh and cupped her buttock allowing my
thumb to begin exploring the junction of her thigh and labia.

Kissing the inside of her thigh, I moved down.  As I did, Marty's other leg
opened up, too.  From the shifting of the bed, I thought she had returned to her
hold on the iron bars of the head board.

Holding both cheeks of her butt in the palms of my hands, I opened her labia with
my thumbs, drawing them up and down through slickness of her lubrication.  Marty
lifted her mound up to my waiting lips.  The light level was too low to see so
this would be oral love making by the Braille method (and I had a seeing eye
tongue).

The point of my tongue spilt her inner labia and I could hear the hiss of her
indrawn breath.  Feeling for her clitoris, I moved its hood just a bit, pushing
it away until her clitoris seemed to reach out for me. Circling it with my lips,
I sucked on it, keeping my teeth and tongue away from its tender surface.  As I
continued, her vaginal juices were mixing with my saliva and I could sense the
change in the taste of her to a stronger musk.  It was intoxicating.

Keeping my upper lip pressed against her clit, I opened and closed my mouth so I
could stimulate the lower end of her vulva with my lip and chin.  My teeth
dragged along her lips as well.  Marty continued to rock her pelvis up and down
so I moved a little lower sticking my tongue as far as I could into the entrance
of her vagina.  Wiggling it, I started fucking her with my tongue, jabbing it and
out in time with her pelvis movements.  Every now and then, Marty would keep her
pelvis elevated, jerking it through tiny motions.

Catching on to her signal, I returned to sucking her clitoris.  I could hear
small grunts coming from deep within her chest.  Every time I passed my tongue
over the end of her clitoris, the grunts would change to a moan and her thighs
would press into the sides of my head.  My beard was now as soaked as her pussy
hair and I sucked in as much of her liquid as I could.

Concentrating my lips on her clitoris, I inserted first one thumb and then the
second into her vagina, slowly finger fucking her with each alternate digit.  My
fingers were splayed over her bottom, holding her up to me.

The pelvic rocking had almost stopped now and the moans moved up a notch to
higher pitched keening.  Marty's thighs were clamped on my head with her feet
flat on my back, pushing my face into her.

I wrapped one arm over her hip bones to pull her closer and she came. Her entire
body became rigid and I could feel the clenching of her vagina on my still
inserted thumb.  Even her anus throbbed against my fingers.  By this time, I had
very little air to breath and my own heart was beating a mile a minute in my
excitement.

With a great exhalation of air, her thighs relaxed and Marty dragged great gulps
of air into her lungs.  I continued to keep the circle of my lips around her
clitoris, gently sucking on the tissue around it.

As soon as her breathing calmed down a bit, Marty started the whole process over
again, quickly building in intensity.  By now, I could follow her lead more
easily and she quickly came again.  She must have let go of her grip on the head
board as I felt her arms slap down on the bed.

"Hey babe...up here," came the ragged request.

"Feel better, Marty? I asked.

"Come here.  I need to hold you."

Giving one last, very soft tickle to her clitoris, I lapped up what juices I
could and moved up to her.  "I hope you know how you good you taste."

She moved me away from her to look at me, her juices in my beard and the shine on
my nose and cheek bones.

"You really like that, don't you?"

"Yup.  Thar ain't nothing finer," I grinned, trying and failing to wiggle an
eyebrow.

"Kiss me!"  I did and Marty kept moving around to lick her juices on my face.

"Hey...what's this?" as she grabbed my limp penis.

"Well, I was so taken up with you that I forgot all about it," I replied.  "I can
only do one thing at a time, you know."  I joined Marty's laughter as she
regained that same stroking hold on my penis.

"Uh-huh. Let's see what...oh...ooohhh.  Man, you're not as wet as I am but you're
getting a lot harder."

"When you do that to me, Marty, it's not going to take too long."

"In your package of treats, you didn't forget to bring any condoms, did you?"

"Shit.  It never crossed my mind."

I figured that was it.  I knew she was a firm believer in the ‘No Glove, No Love'
school.  These days, who wouldn't be?  Maybe sub-consciously, I didn't think
things would go this far.

"You old guys.  Who takes care of you?"  Marty was stroking my fully erect penis.

"I'm not old.  There's only twenty years between us.  But I guess I am little out
of practice."  I reached over for our wine and handed her a glass.

Over the rim of her glass, Marty certainly looked serious.  "You'd leave now,
without fucking me? she asked.

"Marty, we can't.  I don't have anything."  I put down my glass and started to
get up.

"You would leave, wouldn't you?"

"I might want to take this towel home, though."  I thought of a couple of  good
uses for it.  "Do you mind if I have a shower?"

"Yeah...I guess you can't go home like that, can you?"

"Sure I can.  There's no one there."

Sitting up, Marty grabbed my shoulder.  "What do you mean?  What about...?"

"Gone.  That trip?  She came back but the love didn't."

"Shit, G.  You never told me."