Overlooked Bride Ch. 03

SO FAR: Jilted just short of her wedding day Bianca White returns to New Zealand and opens a consultancy to advise people with business problems. She begins to attract people including her first client, Marty Young, who seeks a female business partner with a sexy side to her. In this chapter Bianca's choice proves to be a woman with more sex drive than Marty can handle.

*

Bianca and Marti slowly inspected the 221 hangings ranging from a whimsically etched Bichon Frise with her puppies to a carcass ripping vulture watched by a cheeky-faced monkey. Some were simple and yet elegant etchings; others were rendered in intricate detail and one of those caught Marti's eye – a gnu. Three giraffes caught the eye of Bianca who was waiting for him to suggest going on to dinner.

They listened to the speeches, the three of them being short and witty and Alice presented the mayor with an etching of a Basset Hound which he'd said looked very much like the one he had as a boy. "Thank you Alice – an exceedingly welcomed gift. You have made yourself into quite an asset and notable character in this city in the six months of the year that we have you."

Bianca whispered the mayor is Malcolm McKee whose family has for three generations imported explosives into the country for commercial use.

"What, for ice-cream making."

"No, for farmers to blow up stumps, forestry, demolition, quarrying and that's about where my imagination stops."

Alice came up to them with a rush. "Right you two, have you made your choice?"

"I like this one the best," Bianca said. It was priced at $205. Alice attached a red sticker with the number twenty-one and wrote on the clipboard saying aloud, "Twenty-one, Bianca White – fifty dollars."

"Your pick Marty?"

"The gnu but..."

"I know it's rather expensive for a etching, but just look at the workmanship will you. Dated 1905 and it's one of my favorites. It's yours if you can afford fifty dollars."

"I can but that's a steal."

"Steal from me. Marty. I've taken a little fancy to you. Now you two must join my party for dinner this evening. I'm not accepting a rejection."

"Yes, thank you."

"Me too," Marty said. "I'll enjoy being in exalted company."

Alice smiled, "I think you better keep this one Bianca."

As Alice rejoined the mayor and mayoress Marty asked Bianca, "Was she saying what I think she said?"

"Words just tumble out from Alice – take her with a grain of salt and you'll be fine," Bianca said impassively. "I'm off home to shower and change; give me a call when you learn the venue and I'll meet you there. Just tell Alice I've gone home to powder her nose and she'll know the code. I'm not dining in your exalted company dressed in a business suit."

"You look okay – a comb up and slash on some more lipstick and I'd take you anywhere."

"Thank you Marty; your eloquence and depth of feeling is beyond belief."

"Pleased you think so," he beamed, unaware of the sarcasm.

A few minutes later Marty took a call, hurrying to a corner where he had a quiet chat with Gloria Schmidt. He finished the call in a daze – she'd suggested she call on him tomorrow evening for a drink and if they established empathy she'd stay on and cook dinner.

"After that, who knows?"

"What?" he'd answered shakily.

"Oh, have I embarrassed you."

"I'm not easily embarrassed," he replied. When he said that Marty knew he was croaking in tension like a bullfrog.

He phoned Bianca from the Pink Ocean restaurant – with no view of the ocean but the walls were painted in a light pink wash over rough-finished plaster. She said she was five minutes away but not running because she was in red silk everything and any perspiration would show. Bianca listened – he thought with delight – as he waxed on about Gloria. "Is she as good as she sounds?"

"Yes."

"I didn't have to ask her to stay the night as you suggested; she came right out and said there could be extras after dinner."

"The strumpet."

"No, she just sounded eager to become my partner."

"Well, I hope you will be happy. Marty, that comment about inviting candidates to sleep with you – I was distracted and sent it off without adding 'Joke' in brackets."

"Oh, so it wasn't meant to be an offensive comment?"

"No, of course not. I'm so...Martin Young. You are teasing me. You know damn well I wouldn't say such a thing with serious intent."

"I did notice the sentence didn't end in a fullstop, so I guess that let's you off the hook."

"Thank you – now go back to thinking about Miss Honeypot or better still talking to your hostess and her guess while I concentrate on arriving there in one piece; these male layabouts on the street are swarming around me like a pack of blood-starved mosquitoes."

"Oh God, where are you? I'm on the way."

"That was an exaggeration – one is nursing a bloody cheek walking away with his mate who's just apologized to me excessively and asked that I not call the cops. I'll be there within minutes. Tell Alice you love her hair – she worries about her hair."

The conversation died as Bianca arrived at the table after waving away the maitre d'. "Oh hello darling," Alice said, holding up still well-formed lips to be kissed. "Dressed to kill – just as well as Romeo here has gone on about my hair and you know what that compliment usually earns."

"That's naughty Alice," Bianca replied, finishing off in whispering something to Alice in what Marty knew, having taken the language at high school, was fluent French, spoken so fast he missed most of it in his translation.

Alice laughed delightfully and those at the table responded as guest always think they should and laughed with the hostess.

"Y-you look gorgeous," Marty complimented. "How on earth does that delicate silk top stay up?"

"There is substantial mass just below the top, in case you haven't noticed," she whispered, feeling rather girlish as she did so.

"I'd noticed the legs which are great but didn't focus properly on the superstructure."

"Are you asking me to pull my dress-top down to give you a proper look?"

"Bianca," he hissed. "Behave yourself."

Alice sitting at the head of the table, with Marty on her left, obviously had hearing far too good for her years. She leaned into Marty and said, "Bianca, her mother and me thrive on repartee. If you wish to get lucky with Bianca you'll have to tickle her intellectual fancy; telling her to behave herself is not going to allow you to achieve your goal, believe me."

Aghast, Marty look around for the men's room but didn't spot it. Alice's hand slipping on to his thigh and giving him a horse-bite made him wish he had.

"Alice," he croaked. "How is your husband?" The hand slid away from his leg as she replied he was presently in England attending to a flock of pedigree maiden ewes. Marty attempted desperately to avoid spluttering a mouthful of wine over Alice and the white linen tablecloth and succeeded. His vision on her husband 'attending' his flock was quite inappropriate.

Marty had a lively conservation as he walked Bianca to her brilliantly situated apartment and declined to go up, instead flagging a passing cab to retrieve his car from the car park near his workplace. They embraced lightly and kissed in much that same manner, Marty receiving the distinct impression that Bianca, handing his back his jacket that he'd draped over her shoulders, had cooled on him somewhat on the walk home. Only when he was gliding along in the cab did he recall their principle conversation on that walk of just over ten minutes – Gloria.

Oh crap he sighed, aware he'd committed a cardinal.

His fingers in his jacked touched cardboard. Oh crap he sighed; Alice had dropped that card into his pocket telling him to come and see her – early afternoon was quiet, a good time. She usually worked mornings. Quiet for what, he asked already aware of the probably answer, wondering how old were women when they finally gave up sex. Thank God he didn't have to think anymore about Alice and the fast lane; sweet gentle Gloria would keep him focused on reality. He wondered what her preferred position was a let out a long sigh.

"Are you all right buddy?" the cabdriver enquired.

"Yep, just thinking it' Saturday tomorrow, the day the pace slackens off."

"You young bucks are too job focused," said the sage at the wheel. "That woman in red you were with. If you don't mind me saying so but she was hanging out for it and all you did was to peck her on the lips."

"What's so wrong with that?"

"Woman approaching thirty want action, not being left on the doorstep with just a peck on the cheek. They want action to remind themselves they're doing their best to ensure they don't stay on the shelf permanently."

"You don't say. What makes you an expert?"

"Five older sisters all married. I have a wife and a girlfriend with one of mine and the wife's had five. You'll never see two more satisfied women."

"You're a hero, Mac."

Arriving at the 'farmhouse' as that's what grandpa called it because when it was constructed the property spread over 1400 acres, Marty eyed the ranch-house style home built snugly into the wooded hillside overlooking a stream. Although most of the land had been cut-up into 12 acre blocks, this block being 30 acres, it still was idyllic rural New Zealand to him, even after midnight under a half moon. Inside it was typically a bachelor's retreat – a little messy, no flowers, emphasis on electronics but nevertheless clean because old Mrs Parsons came two mornings a week to do the housework and his washing.

Marty pulled out his phone and looked at it with a 'should I/shouldn't I' expression but the alcohol in his blood pushed him into daring mode. He called Bianca because he felt guilty having talked excessively about Gloria; Christ he was as thick as one of his fence posts.

She answered instantly before he had completely rehearsed what he'd say, knowing a straight out apology wouldn't work with here; she'd want a subtle crawling on hands and knees and two quick licks of her elegant feet – assuming her feet were like the rest of her. So he thought her of her elegant pussy and sighed. One smack over his teeth from her for saying that would be the end of that.

"I asked, who's there?"

"Ooops, sorry Bianca; it's Marty," he said, mentally getting on to his hands and knees with apologetic intent. "What are you doing?"

She giggled. "One doesn't ask a lady what she's doing when in bed after midnight awash in magical moonlight."

Oh God, she's talking about playing with a toy or something. Marty closed his eyes waiting to be swallowed up and delivered to his fate."

Bianca rescued him. "I haven't embarrassed you have I? It should be okay in this day and age to talk suggestively to Big Boys like that. The truth is it was only a naughty joke."

"No, of course no," Marty said, his inner voice shouting 'Liar, liar – Marty's a liar'.

"Did Alice give you her card?"

"Yes."

"And invite you to visit?"

"Yes, I didn't know which way to turn when she whispered that. At first I thought I was imagining it but then I caught the look in her eyes and she ran her tongue over her top lip."

"Sexy thing, isn't she? Mum's just the same. I use to think they were lesbians but the closest they appear to come to that is boy sandwich – but Marty, if you don't know what they means don't ask. Are you going to see her?"

"Christ no; this is me getting out of the fast lane - fast."

"Well don't be too hasty. Older women have something – I think it's a mixture of confidence and style and knowing when a male presents himself before them they know what to do with it. I think of my own mother as one of the sexiest women alive."

"I'm not sure you should be talking to me like this," Marty said nervously.

"Well in that case let's change away from my mother. I believe you answered those earlier questions truthfully. I bet most men would have lied in your situation while wondering if they had the guts to visit her."

"Is she a prostitute?"

"I wouldn't think so. Both women each disply enough sexuality for two women and both chose to marry quiet, respectable men. But the cure never came so they prowl to find acceptable ways of expending excessive energy. It doesn't have to be sex – my mother get's release in the excitement of returning to France, knowing she doesn't have to hurry back home, and then she gets the excitement of coming home. Of course in the meantime she just happens to fall over a lonely man now and again."

"It must be uncomfortable knowing that about your mother."

"Not really. You're one of the few people I've told. Actually I'm rather proud both of them have the guts to act as they feel driven, knowing society frowns very heavily on such behavior from adult women, more so when both have position and respectability on their respective communities. Are you calling to apologize?"

"Yes, how did you know? I feel the need to drop humbly on to my hands and knees and gently lick you feet."

"Oh God, don't talk like that Marty – if you do I'll really have to grab my friend."

Choking with embarrassment Marty said he was sorry.

"Think nothing of it. I realized you were on a sexual high, the beginning of venturing into uncharted waters. I'm very pleased the project appears to be working out for you. She gave the appearance of being a very nice girl; at the same time be on the look-out for unexpected surprises."

"I shall."

"By the way, when I arrived home I removed your two listings on those internet dating sites – there are already more than 200 responses from Russia alone. My feeling is we'll get more women similar to the caliber of Gloria from the newspaper ads. I emailed cancellation of the Monday and Tuesday ads as my feeling it we'll receive a huge response from women on Saturday sitting with their feet up, drinking coffee, and attempting to sort out the Prince Charmings from the louses who'll dabble with the sex and then disappear. The image of you in your ad sounds good and the reasons for inviting the woman to come forward and communicate sounds noble. My fear tonight is that we will be overwhelmed with responses."

"Not a chance," Marty said. "There are too many smart women out there. The ones who respond will be only looking for financial support."

"We'll see what Monday's calls bring. When you meet my mother try not to think about what I told you earlier. I thought it necessary to give you the background you'd have some understanding if you saw her with a man who was not my father."

"Am I to meet your mother?"

"Oh yes. Whether you know it or not, you've become my first new friend since I've arrive back in Auckland. A lasting friendship is quite on the cards."

"I certainly hope so. Goodnight you lovely lady."

Wow, thought Marty, heading to bed. He'd made a friend of a woman who was not the lover of one of his male friends, or a girl next door. Bianca was the first female friend he'd made, unassisted, since leaving university. He made friends with women at the business college but that didn't count; he was the director so it was expedient for them to be friendly. It was true he was Bianca's client but her whole instinct would have told her not to befriend him because of that connection. The friendship had just jumped the fence and draped over them both. How charming.

Barking dogs brought Marty awake. Then he heard another sound, someone knocking. Damn it would be a motorist unable to find someone in the locality; some houses on the lifestyle blocks were hidden behind hillocks. He was nude but so what – give directions and they'd be away. Grabbing a towel he wrapped it around his waist and answered the door. The clock indicated almost 8:30 – Gloria would be here in ninety minutes. Wow!

The young woman was poured in her jeans, her silver shirt was a size too small for her and something with an apparent mind of its own was trying to bust out from it. Hello Saturday – someone in the valley was about to experience a Lost Weekend!

"Good morning," he said, blocking a yawn. How may I help?"

"Marty."

His bottom jaw hit his feet: "Gloria."

"Yes, aren't you a handsome specimen of a man."

"Come in. Have you had breakfast?"

"No. I apologize for being early but I couldn't sleep – I was so exciting. This is like venturing into uncharted waters."

Marty wondered who'd said practically those same words to him only recently. "Come in, we'll get your gear later." He couldn't believe this friendly, quite beautiful woman, was totaled focused on aligning with him, in whatever way she imagined.

Just how far she'd go he didn't have to wait to find out.

"Oh Marty – may I use the loo?"

"The guest loo is down the passage or else the one for the master bedroom is through that door over there, which takes you into the master bedroom. Go straight across and through the dressing room. Take you pick," Marty said, keeping a tight grip on the top of his towel.

"The master bedroom bathroom sounds more portentous."

Marty watched her walk across to the door, thinking beautiful legs, great ass. She turned and met his gaze full on, gave him a cute wave and disappeared.

As soon as she's out of there I'll dress and cook breakfast.

He waited, wondering what she was doing then heard her call, "Oh Marty?"

Marty went after the call like a Beagle, ears flopping, behind waggling. What did she want?

Gloria was sitting up in bed, hair down and cascading over a pair of great boobs, bared. She patted the bed beside him and smiling said, "We may as well cut maneuvering and get right into it."

It?

Marty wondered if 'it' meant what he thought it did. He dropped the towel and Gloria groaned, "It's more than a month since I've been near one of those. Put a rubber on and don't mess around – we can engage in erotic byplay later."

This was one of those occasions, Marty decided quickly, that a guy does exactly what a gal wants.

"This is Captain Marty," he called huskily, tearing open a packet. "Mission Control, we are preparing to dock."

"Oh God, Marty, hurry," screamed Gloria, sending the dogs waiting for overdue breakfast into a barking frenzy.

Marty boggled – he'd never seen a woman do this live – on DVD's yes but this was in his bed for fuck sake: Gloria had pulled her legs way back under her arms, her feet were well past her shoulders and starting right at him was her moist pussy. Dynamic electrodes tore around his body, alerting every senor to prepare for an overdose of sensations.

The completely bald pussy gaped open, so much so that he worried that his dick might have to bounce around a bit to find the sides. But he needn't have worried. When a great sigh tore itself from between Gloria's lips she clamped down on him, making him grunt with the effort of moving in and out to create the friction they both needed to benefit from this act of lust.

More than two hours later, when Gloria went to the toilet, Marty fled the bed; dressing and grabbing the dog bucket and added two handfuls of dog biscuits to to the kitchen scraps and headed outside, feeling exhausted and wondering what he'd taken on. Unlike most women he's known carnally, Gloria cried 'More!' rather than 'That's enough'.

He waited outside with the dogs as long as he thought he could get away with that dodge before returning timidly into the house. He sighed with relief – she was cooking breakfast, or rather brunch.

"You're a bit of a goer, I was beginning to lag."

That compliment made Marty stand taller. "I aim to please."

"We should prepare some meals and spend the weekend in bed."

"Do you ride?" he asked desperately.

"No, but I ride motorbikes."

"Good, I have a trail bike and so do the MacDonald's next door. I'll borrow Sally's for you and we'll ride in Riverhead Forest for a few hours."

"Oh good – we could make a bed of pine needles."