George and Martha Pt. 01

Pointing around the room I asked, "You wear this stuff? How old are you?"

"I'm 61 honey, and you bet your sweet little tush I wear it."

She pulled her skirt up far enough for me to see the straps holding up her white diamond fishnet hose. I quickly imagined myself in that and George sliding his hand under my dress headed straight for my overheated playground. I took her hand and asked her to show me. She was so kind, telling me what would look good on me and what wouldn't based on my body. Which bras pinched and bunched, which panties had a tendency to crawl up the crack of your butt. She explained thongs weren't for everyone, she suggested I only buy a few if any at all, in case I wore a pencil skirt or real tight jeans.

Neither of us could figure out why a girl would want to wear something deliberately in the crack of her butt all day, every day. I left with several pair of pretty bikini panties and boy shorts. Three new bras, one transparent enough that it showed my nipples through the fabric and barely contained my breasts. I could feel my tits jiggle as I walked, it was erotic and embarrassing at the same time. I bought three garter belts, a black, white, and red one along with a half dozen pair of high quality hose. When the total came up to just over $400 I flinched. Not that I didn't have the money, but I was used to Penney's bra specials, buy one get one half price and 6 packs of white cotton panties at Wal Mart for $12.

I was home just before 4 and quickly put on a pair of boy shorts. Not being used to low cut underwear I kept trying to pull them up. Finally leaving them alone so my body could get used to the new feeling. I loved the pair I had on, they were a light green with dark blue stripes running diagonally. I put on a light yellow bra, a cream colored blouse and blue jeans. I felt good about myself as I headed downstairs to wait for George. Aunt Elma asked if I'd found anything shopping. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear I unzipped my jeans and opened them enough for her to see my new panties.

"MMM, mmm, mmm, he gonna like those baby girl."

"Well he isn't going to see them, they're for me."

She cackled her laugh of disbelief, smiling at me. She pulled my head to her and kissed me on the cheek.

"Maybe he don't see um today, but if he like you as much as I think he do, he gonna see um."

I looked up as the bell jingled, there in the doorway was my dream come true. Neither of us knew it yet, but we were each other's answer to silent prayers whispered in the dark of night. He offered his arm, which I accepted, waved to auntie and walked out the door. He was driving a newer pickup and when he opened the door a step automatically came out from underneath. Not only was it motorized, it was lighted as swell. The interior was as nice as any car I'd ever been in.

I asked where we were going, he told me of a coffee shop on the east side of town that had recently opened, it was where he bought his beans. The aroma's that filled one's nostrils as you entered were heavenly. I was lost in the smells and ambiance when I realized George was asking what I would like. I ordered coffee and we agreed to share a toasted bagel. After a half hour of chit chat he said he was hungry and asked if I wanted to go to 5 guys with him. I hadn't been to one, so we headed that way.

The burger was good, but the fries were out of this world. In the course of our conversation I mentioned he didn't look like a George and wondered if he knew why they named him that. His dad was a professor at Iowa State, the alma mater of George Washington Carver. His dad was so impressed by all that Carver had contributed to the agriculture business that he named his son after him. He inquired about mine, me telling him my mother had been a history buff and was enthralled by the life of Martha Washington. We burst out laughing, what an odd coincidence. George and Martha.

We were across from the mall, George asked if I'd like to walk in the mall a while to people watch and talk. As we strolled through the mall we were oblivious to anyone around us while we talked. In front of a shop he stopped.

"Martha, may I hold your hand?"

My mind was whirling, may you hold my hand? Hell yes you can hold my hand, I bought sexy panties for you today, in time maybe you'll be holding my ass in your hands.

"Yes George, I'd like that."

When he enveloped my smaller hand in his massive one, I felt that female creaminess flood into my panties. My new panties, if I played my cards right maybe they'd be his panties to slide off my hips one day. I was wet but not soaked, thankfully it wouldn't show through my jeans. We stopped for a Slurpee, something I hadn't had in a decade. As we walked to his truck he never let go of my hand, opened every door and made sure I was always on the inside of the sidewalk. Someone had taught this man some manners and how to treat a lady.

At the back of my building we talked briefly before it was time for me to go in. He came around and opened my door, walked me to the entrance and was going to walk away with a simple "goodnight". As he turned I caught his arm.

"Don't I get a goodnight kiss George?"

"I'd love to, but I don't think I'm very good at it. I only kissed two girls before."

"I haven't kissed many boys either, (one) let's give it a try. What do we have to lose?"

In the dim light of my backdoor and the soothing summer breeze he took me in his arms, gently kissing my eager lips. They were soft, yet firm, warm and sensuous, it seemed like our lips melted together before he pulled back.

"Thank you Martha. I had a wonderful time tonight. I hope you don't think me forward, I was wondering if you'd go with me to the annual recognition dinner next Friday. It's a suit and tie thing for me, but you can wear a dress or whatever. We would be out late though, so if you have to get up for work and can't go, I understand."

"I would love to go. I don't work Saturdays, late is not a problem. Does the invitation say dress, or cocktail dress?"

"Cocktail, but a dress is a dress isn't it?"

"No you goofball. Bring me the invitation in the morning. I'll know what to wear. Good night George, thank you for being a gentleman."

"You're welcome Martha. I've always been uneasy around girls, and I sure haven't ever been around a black girl. There aren't any black folks in the county I came from. Oh, and it's easy being a gentleman with you, you're the prettiest girl this guy has ever seen."

With that he spun and was headed to his truck. Standing inside the door watching him drive away I wondered what had just happened. He told me I'm the first black girl he'd ever dated or kissed, that I'm the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and he asked me to a formal dinner, all in a fifteen minute time frame. Not to mention that knee weakening kiss, damn, I'll take all of those he has to give. My head was swooning, my heart rate was up, and I felt another gush of liquid hit the gusset of my new panties. I plopped my ass down on the steps, out of breath and all I'd done was kiss a guy.

But what a kiss. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and drag his lips to mine until we were naked. Holy crap, even my nipples were hard, my breasts tingled, a tingle that went as far as between my legs. This was all new territory for me, welcomed territory for sure, but still entirely new. Maybe Weezy was right when she warned me, 'hang onto yo britches when you wit him cuz he be a panty dropper'. Sometimes the way she and auntie talked drove me up a wall, other times it was damned cute, it was who they were with each other.

My legs felt heavy as I ascended the steps, it made me wonder if it was the result of that kiss. I'd climbed these steps countless times before and my legs had never felt heavy. Undressing I noticed I felt tingly all over and I had a perpetual smile on my face. Could this be the one, is he my dream come true? I'd always imagined a prominent black business man would find me and sweep me off my feet, yet here I was enamored by a tall white tradesman. I determined I didn't care about the color of his skin or his family history, George treated me with respect and dignity. How many guys did I know who would have opened car and restaurant doors for me? None I could think of.

George's thoughts driving away:

Finally I can let my dick get hard. It was all I could do to not get hard when I kissed her. Those lips, those luscious soft lips, it was like our lips had become one. Of the two girls I kissed I can't remember anything like what just happened.

There aren't any black folks in the county I was raised, my folks called them colored folks, and my grandparents addressed them as negroes. Being from a little county in northwest Iowa I was naïve when I got to the city. I'd never met a black person until I was 17, so it was new and intriguing to me when I had the opportunity to actually meet and talk with someone of another race. My naivete soon caught up with me as I witnessed discrimination in all directions while existing within a large city. So, when I found Dee's and met Martha, I thought I'd met miss perfect. 'She was the culmination of everything I had dreamed about and there was never a color in my dreams, why should color matter now.'

Am I being a pervert imaging my hands and lips on those bodacious breasts? They fit her body perfectly, not too big or small, just perfect. I love how her waist flows into her hips, I could easily see myself laying between them as I made love to her. I can only imagine what her pussy looks like, never saw one in person before, but I'll bet it's another part of her body that's perfect. Can't forget that lovely face, soft delicate skin, soft cheeks, button nose and eyes that light my life when she smiles at me. Son of a bitch, I'm falling for this girl hard, sure hope I don't mess this up.

Martha:

Next morning I'm up and at it as usual. George was a complete gentleman and had me home prior to seven. The more I thought about it the more I wondered if a little feel of my breast may have been in order. Then I caught myself, Martha what the hell are you thinking? You had a coffee date and a burger with him. He held your hand, he didn't ask you to marry him.

Auntie and Weezy breezed in at their usual time, talking and cackling as they came through the door. I wondered how much longer they'd be able to maintain this regimen, both were in their late 60's. In fact auntie would be 70 her next birthday. I think Weezy is a few years behind her.

Elma:

"You got a good report fo us baby girl?"

"He's a wonderful man auntie. He's kind and polite, he even opened doors for me and got upset if I opened the door for myself. He asked if he could hold my hand and I let him."

Weezy:

"You bring him home and drop them drawers did you?"

Auntie spoke before I could. 'Weezy stop that, she only just met the boy."

Weezy:

"Met him my foot. He been lookin at her fine ass fo months now. Martha don't hold onto dem panties too tight, give 'im sumthin to keep 'im comin back."

Elma;

"Enough o dat Weezy. We need keep our nose outa her business. She a smart girl, she make da right decision when da time come."

I stuck my tongue out at them and went back to what needed to be done. In-store traffic was unusually heavy this morning, and when dreamboat came through the door we smiled. He could see I was busy so he handed me the invitation, got his usual, held my hand for a few seconds when I gave him change and headed off to work.

At our break time they wanted to know what he had given me. I told them he had invited me to the annual dinner for his work and I would need to get a cocktail dress. Both had numerous suggestions including what I should wear under it. From aunties point it was about what would be comfortable and still be alluring, from Weezy's point it was about what I'd look like when my dress hit the floor and he took me to bed. How could two life long friends have such different points of view? I had three days to find something.

Auntie and I hit the dress shops that evening, settling on a flowing teal satin dress. The upper was snug but not tight, had a scoop neckline but didn't hang out to reveal too much cleavage, the bottom was pleated, flaring out from my hips, ending about 3" above the knee. Auntie went with me to the lingerie store and my favorite lady happened to be working. She steered me in the direction she thought would be best, even auntie approved of the choices I'd made. Next stop was a higher quality shoe store where auntie insisted she buy my shoes. Her gift to me for my first formal date.

At home I tried everything on again. Before I dropped the dress over my head I stood looking at my body, hoping to one day show it to George, imaging how exciting it would be to have him take it all off before he lay me down and make love to me. I'd purchased another garter belt, light blue this time, with matching colored sheer panties and bra. The material was so transparent I could see my nipples poking through and my furry bush. I sure hoped he liked pubic hair, because I had no intention of shaving. I cupped my breasts, shuddering as I did, then ran the flat of my hand across my tummy and down the front of my new panties. My legs spread ever so slightly as my finger snaked between my legs. Oh how I wished it was Georges finger against my vulva instead of mine.

It all needed to be washed anyway so I didn't really care that my panties were full of thick creamy goo.

With the dress on I felt I looked stunning for an average looking girl. Knowing I was going to be with George somehow made me feel pretty. Wouldn't matter what anyone else thought, George found me to be pretty, and at present he was all I cared about in the romance department.

The next few mornings were as always, he'd stop for his usual and we'd chat a little if it wasn't real busy. Thursday morning he brought the entire shop to a state of absolute silence as he held onto my hand, leaned across and kissed it. Telling me 'goodbye pretty girl'. As he departed there were plenty of cat calls and sex related inuendo's. They probably couldn't see it because of my skin tone, but my face was on fire with blush. As the break came I excused myself and went upstairs, I had no choice but to change my panties, what I was wearing were wet enough it had begun to soak through my bakers pants.

I had arranged to be off by noon on Friday. I took a long leisurely bubble bath, taking a little too much time washing my breasts and between my legs, imaging it was Georges hands caressing me instead of mine washing. Other than wash my hair, fluff and part it, there wasn't much to do with it. I concentrated on my makeup, something I seldom wore much of. I attempted to get the eye shadow near to the dress color and somehow managed. Looking in the mirror I thought I looked beautiful for the first time in my life.

Off with the robe, lotion my body and slip into the sexiest attire I'd ever seen, much less worn. The bra went on first, adjusting each breast in place, pushing them together for an extra bit of cleavage. Garter was next followed by stockings. I'd chosen a stark white pair in silk with a rose pattern design, you could see through them enough to accentuate my legs. When I clipped them onto the straps I felt like a sex doll, a toy George would get to play with sometime in the future. I stood looking, everything covered but my vagina. I ran my finger tips through the hair, tussling it and tugging lightly, then cupped my entire mons and whispered to myself, "George."

The lingerie gal told me to slide my panties over the belt for an occasion like I was attending, then I didn't have to take it all off just to pee. The panties were a lower cut than my others. When I slid them up and they barely covered my mons I thought to myself, "You are a little slut." Then smiled.

I was in a robe when auntie came up, knocked and entered. She handed me the days receipts and we talked a bit. I asked if she'd like to see what we picked out, she nodded and I opened my robe.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm, lawdy, lawdy, good thing I neva had sumthin like dat fo yo uncle, he'd never let me outa da bedroom. Chil, you look sexy as hell."

She helped me with my dress and said she'd wait with me til George came. George was there at precisely 5;45, just as he'd promised. Auntie opened the door as he knocked. I walked from the bedroom into the kitchen and he lost his breath, quickly sitting on a chair grasping his chest. He did the old Sanford and Son line, "this is the big one Elizabeth, I'm comin home." We all burst out laughing, then it got scary quiet as he stood.

"Martha, I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you are tonight. I don't think we should go, I'll have to fight the other men off. Here, I brought you a corsage, didn't know what color the dress was, the lady told me white goes with most every color. Sure hope you like it."

Elma took the corsage from the box and was going to pin it on, I stopped her and said I wanted George to do it. The guy was a bundle of nerves trying to pin it on and not hurt me. I finally put my hand on his stopping him.

"Slide your fingers underneath the material, position the corsage and use your other hand to pin it in place."

"Inside your dress? Under the dress? Um ... Oh crap ... Um, I can do this."

He was perspiring, his hands were shaky and his breathing stopped all the while he pinned it in place. Stepping back he was all smiles and nervous as a new father. Auntie was smiling and giggling the entire time. As we were leaving she pulled me in for a kiss on the cheek.

"He's real honey, you want to hang onto him."

I thought, now why the hell couldn't she enunciate all the time? Why did she always fall back on that southern drawl and half speak stuff? Ah, Weezy, I'll blame it on Weezy.

I felt like a queen as he escorted me to the truck, it had been washed, waxed and detailed ... just for me. As I got in a gust of wind blew my dress a little, just enough to see the top of my hose. He saw, oh boy did he see. I noticed the front of his slacks instantly tighten and it sure seemed to take longer than normal to get to the driver's side. Why was he standing behind the truck so long? It suddenly dawned on me, I'd caused that, and I felt devilishly good about it as I grinned.

It truly was a gala affair, not a single amenity had been spared. We were the only mixed race couple, there were other black lady's but they were wives of black company employees. The meal was superb, the ceremony began, George getting an award for being an outstanding lineman. He had no idea he was getting it and when he went up to receive it he wanted me to come along. I begged off telling him it was his award and to go receive it humbly.

A five piece band had been hired and were setting up following awards. I excused myself to use the powder room. As I was adjusting my lingerie and smoothing my dress one of the older black ladies approached me.

"You here with that cracker? He hire you for the night?"

"Yes, I'm here with George, who is not a cracker, nor did he hire me. He asked me out on a date and I accepted."

"No need to be all snooty and upset. You just happen to be the first black girl to ever come here with a white boy. That isn't looked at with much enthusiasm here in Arkansas. Oh, they'll tell you it's okay, but deep down it isn't."

"Well maam, maybe it's time some of those ideas went by the wayside. George really likes me, he told me I'm beautiful."

"Sure he did honey, and will until he gets into your pants. Then you'll just be another whore to him."

I was so pissed I walked out the door. George could see I'd been crying and pushed me to say why. I cast it off and said we should dance. The next fast song we had planned to dance until we watched the gyrations and contortions and decided we'd wait for a slow song. It felt so good to be held by him, I felt safe and protected. A few guys wanted to cut in, George looked at me and when I shook my head he politely told them goodbye. Even though I wasn't, I liked being treated like I was his girl, his property, his love machine for the taking anytime he'd like.