Across The Airways

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Steve returns home to make Marty dance.
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Copyright 2000 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission author.

* * * * *

Martha’s cell phone rang. It was Steve taking a break back from whatever "wars" his company had him leading in parts unknown. Martha and Steve had been a number until he taken his new job fourteen months ago with its excessive travel schedule. No ring tied them, but few wed couples could claim the total commitment that they shared to that point.

Her car shuddered in the slip stream created as the eighteen-wheeler motored on its diesel roaring. Martha frantically turned up the windshield wipers’ speed as she was blinded as brown sloppy slush sprayed off the large tires.

Martha thought she could be the faithful SO while she saw Steve off for his protracted assignments where he flourished doing newspaper automation development projects. She withered in her stagnant job. The rift was slow to develop but as surely as darkness follows sunlight, their relationship went from ecstasy to forlornness. She hadn't seen or heard from Steve in ninety-two days, but who was counting.

Hearing his voice made Martha's heart ache for what had been and now was lost. She held her breath waiting for his edict on her future. She mused angrily to herself about why she let this man have such power over her when she was known as a leader in the rest of her life? Everyone said she was a natural leader. She hid her dissatisfaction at work well, but she knew she'd only coasted since Steve's coaching and cheerleading took wing.

"I just called to see what you are doing for the holiday, M," he said. He'd always called her M, just M, not Martha or Marty like everyone else.

Try as she might to be strong, the lump in her throat and the bubbling tears made it nearly impossible for her to sound detached as she whispered, "Where are you?" Even she didn't know where she hoped he was, her physical core ached to hear he was within touching range.

"Where would you like me to be, huh M?" He was baiting her like he always had. He loved to keep her off center. If she admitted it he was the taker and she'd always been the giver. She was determined not to give into him this time, the healing process had started. She wished he would've stayed away. Just yesterday she had met someone that set her heart aflutter and she and Tom would be at the same party tomorrow night. Martha had made up her mind if he asked, she'd go home with him. Now this tumultuous phone call.

She had to get off the freeway, Steve was taking all her concentration. She pulled off into the rest center which this late at night was virtually deserted though its powerful lights pushed back the darkness. Martha stopped away from the other cars, not wanting others to see her private tears.

In the distance Steve saw the signal light come on and he had to bite his curled finger to keep from laughing aloud. If she found out now it would ruin everything.

"Huh?" he repeated.

"I just had to get off the road. Why'd you call me on my cell? You know I've never been able to talk to you when I'm driving?

"Steve, did you get home to your Mom's for Christmas?" she asked as her way of narrowing down where he might be without naming that she wished he was within driving distance. To know he was that close would thrill her and infuriate her if he'd been here for days without calling her. The airways seemed to make his voice seem so close, but telecommunications did that sometimes.

"M, I've been in Singapore for what seems like forever, but I'm not there right now. No, I didn't make it home for Christmas either." She wasn’t even aware she'd held her breath until she the long sigh escaped.

"Which exotic location did you celebrate the day in this year?" Last year she'd flown to Sydney to spend two glorious weeks exploring the Great Barrier Reef. It was the best Christmas present possible, just having him all to herself in the sunshine. Now a year later, she sat forlornly amid snow banks watching the snow coat the windows cocooning her. That suited her just fine, she felt safer the more oblique the world came.

"Honolulu, but I didn't see much of it," he shared.

"Yeah, whatever," Martha said with a shrug. She wished she'd kept her mouth shut because hearing that he had spent the holiday in what had been their dream Christmas lotion, knowing he'd lived their dream without her, drove the proverbial stake deeper into her heart. She sat there fighting for composure.

"Why don't you restart the car? I don't want you catching a chill."

She laughed, he was making fun of her frugality. Martha thought an idling car was one of the great wastes of money. Steve was more concerned for the environment but it amounted to the same thing; idling cars were not in their lexicon. "We can't be that long, Steve. I'm expected at Jess' to help prepare for her annual bash," she said with resignation. Her life used to be too busy with Steve to have allowed her the time to help her sister cook for her big New Year's splash. Now she had lots of time on her hands and had gladly offered to lend a helping hand.

"Start the car, M." She started the car. The snow coating the windows allowed only an eerie translucent glow into the car. "Did you leave straight from work?"

"Why?"

"Did you?"

"Yes," she answered with a perplexed frown.

In contrast to her frown, Steve smiled. He pressed on with his plan. "What are you wearing, sweets?" The endearment was too much, a sob escaped. "No tears," he said sharply. It told Steve that she was not over him yet and that was good. He'd been afraid that she had also works and is less complicated] moved on in her life. The fact that she was helping her twin with the preparations said it all because M didn't share her twins domesticity. He knew he was free to proceed with his plan. Steve was a man of honor who knew if she had moved on he would have figuratively walked away.

"Take your panties off, M," Steve told her in his gentlest of voices. However it was the voice of her capitulation three years ago today.

"Steve," it came out strangled as she fell under his spell again.

"Please, for me."

Martha pushed the seat back, "I have my boots on?" She asked permission to remove them. Their lovemaking had been pretty vanilla but Steve was always the orchestrator. In the past they'd shared their lovemaking in the Botanical Gardens with the lilacs perfuming the air and shielding them from the hordes. If anyone had looked closely they could be seen. The only one to acknowledge their copulation was an elderly couple. He clapped; his wife dragged him away clucking her tongue. Steve and Martha had listened as the old gent reminded his life partner of the day he'd asked for her hand and in place of a ring he'd taken her virginity among the roses as the sun set.

"Take them off, M." All too often over the fourteen months the only lovemaking that had been available to them was directed masturbation. Martha complied, his voice simply excited her so much.

He could imagine her frantic gyrations as she fought the steering wheel for supremacy. "OK, Steve, my panties are off." She was glad for the hands free feature.

"Hang them on the mirror, sweets." She blushed at the thought even though she knew no one could see in her cocoon. She hooked the flimsy white lace thong panties over the mirror. She could smell her arousal.

"Blouse or sweater? Color?"

"Red camisole, the one you bought me in Sydney on my last day," she answered hoping that he'd feel duly guilty for his recent neglect. "With my black suit."

Steve could still visualize M twirling around the lingerie story modeling the wispy red top. "The one we bought at that upscale shop in Boston?" he laughingly asked as he realized much of her wardrobe was bought as pacifiers for his extended absences. She laughed, his guilt built. Martha never asked for anything or whined about his neglect and that just added to his guilt. She didn't answer. He knew he was right; it was a favorite of hers.

He chuckled to himself thinking how flaming red M’s face would be when she found out the truth about Honolulu. If the damn plane hadn’t developed mechanical problems he won’t have spent Christmas Day in the Radisson alone watching the surf break on the beach. Nor would he have sat at the airport wishing he was somewhere else.

"Take off the jacket, remove your camisole and bra then put the jacket back on. Hurry so you don't get too cold," he authoritatively said. He could almost see her looking around her cocoon to see if she'd be visible to anyone. He heard a click and knew that she had relocked the doors.

"Now!"

"'k." He heard her rustling around. Steve couldn't help but lick his lips thinking about her pert nipples hardening with the sudden cold and her escalating arousal.

"Shit, it's cold!" she hissed between clenched jaws.

"Start that damn car, you little fool." He spoke to her sharper than he'd planned but her obstinacy infuriated him sometimes. He heard the roar of the heater.

"Do you have any toys?" he asked knowing that she never traveled anywhere without her bag of tricks.

"Yes," she said rooting in the back seat for her bag.

"Still have those red anal beads?" He held his breath, hoping against hope that she still had them.

"Un-huh."

"Push them in and remember the first time we used them. It was at the drive-in right next to the concession stand when we saw that Private Ryan flick. Damn good job it was so stormy or we'd have been caught for sure. You like the thrill of being discovered don't you, love?" The deep rumble of his voice exhilarated her as no other person could.

She remembered that night as she inserted the beads one at a time. Even more she remembered Steve pulling them out as their mutual climax reached its zenith. She felt her juices seeping out against her hand as she pushed in the seventh one. She couldn't have silenced her moan even if she'd been so inclined.

Rallying, she attacked, "I'm really pissed with you, you know? I haven't had so much as an email from you in ninety-two days and now you want me to fuck myself in the f'in' car."

Steve laughed delightedly at her profanity, she only swore when she was near orgasm. His laughter only fueled her disdain for him and for her inability to deny him.

"Pull your boots on and your coat, too," still laughing he told her. She heard him take a drag on his cigarette.

"You smoking again, Steve. You promised," Martha said it as a statement sounding so disappointed.

"Sorry, it didn't seem to matter without you." He genuinely sounded apologetic.

"Hey! Tell you what. I'll quit for sure if you do this one thing for me. You're going to hate me and hate yourself but I really want ya to do this for me since I can't be with you," he let his words tumble out as if he just came up this the idea. He tossed the cigarette out, its usefulness finished. He'd tell her later that it'd only been a staging prop. "How'd I ever do that to myself?" He mused wrinkling his face in disgust.

He knew her better than she did herself. Martha would do this because she really was a slut and also she was so concerned for his health. Well at least he was betting everything on it. It had taken a lot of planning and subterfuge to pull off what was taking place. Everyone knew but M. He knew their friends and families were placing side bets on the likelihood of him getting a yes.

"Ready?"

"I don't know," she whispered unable to hide her arousal. He recognized her throaty huskiness, "Yes."

"Don't forget your keys. You are going to go into the rest center now. You may wrap your coat around you but don't button it. I will say my good-byes now as you needn't take your phone with you. Just take the keys." He heard her sudden intake of breath at his assignment and he hadn't given her his final instruction yet.

"You must at the least let some man see either your bare breasts or your bare ass before you come back to the car. It'll be up to you if you let the man touch you, but I suggest since you're alone these days maybe you should let him touch you," he decisively told her. So she couldn't debate his directive he quickly said, "Happy New Year's, M, I love you."

The line went dead. He hurriedly left his car and jogged into the center.

Martha sat there horrified. How could he ask this of her? She loved the thrill of discovery and they had shared some wonderful orgasms while flitting with discovery and possible arrest. But this was too much. He'd never asked her to involve another man until now. She stomped her feet. "NO! Too much!" she said to the empty white cocoon.

"Well I do have to pee pretty bad plus I need to take these beads out and hopefully wash them up," she argued with herself.

She walked into the center. It was designed like a three-leaf clover, the travel assistance center, the restrooms and lastly the vending machine area. Martha meandered in the travel section. The lone female clerk eagerly offered her assistance. "No just stretching my legs, thanks anyway. It's really quiet here tonight," she answered her voice echoing in the large room.

She stood in the open rotunda thinking it’s too cold outside to wait for any flippin’ man. It wasn’t an option, it was just too cold for that nonsense. Movement almost out of her view caught her eye. When she looked there was a shadow moving in the vending area.

Actually that sounded pretty good, a nice hot cup of coffee was what she needed, if only he'd allowed her to bring her purse. Martha toyed with the idea of running back to the car for it. Her hand found a forgotten single bill in her pocket, she smiled at her good fortune. Now she could satisfy Steve's directive of giving some guy a cheap holiday thrill and get some coffee to go for the run to her sister's.

With shaking hands she opened the door. The sole person fortunately was a man with his back to her in the process of gathering up his garbage. Martha knew she only had seconds to carry out Steve's wishes. Well she'd get her coffee first and then as she sat down facing him she'd let her coat fall open. "Yes, that's what I'll do," she said aloud though to no one.

Martha carefully fed the five dollar bill into the slot and pushed the button. She looked over her shoulder at the man. At least he was nicely dressed. As the machine worked its magic her mind worked its own magic. "If only... ," she sighed.

"Damn it to hell," the change return was set very low. Well with any luck he'd be facing her and she could moon him and be done with Steve's silly request. Never once did she think even to herself that she wouldn't comply.

Bending from the waist she reached for her change while she peeked to see if he was looking. Martha wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to be looking or not. He wasn't there.

Just then from nowhere a deep resonant voice hissed, "Don't move!" as his pointed fingers drove into her sopping wet cunt. "I have some beads to remove while I finger fuck you, M."

"Steveee!!!!" she exclaimed trying to roll into his arms, as he proceeded to rhythmically finger fuck her, removing the beads one at a time, bringing her closer to her climax with each bead.

"I'm home for good, M. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, gawd, yes Steve. When?" she said as she rocketed to her biggest climax in a year.

As they walked out, she saw the line up of people. Steve handed the attendant a hundred dollar bill. "I told him I wanted some privacy while I proposed to my girl." Walking past the crowd arm in arm, the crowd broke into raucous wolf whistles and clapping for the radiant couple. Martha tried unobtrusively to straight her skirt.

Steve whispered, "It only took six beads to bring you to climax, my love. Guess where the seventh is?"

Holding her head high, Martha quickened her step as her face heated up.

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