Mothers and Daughters Pt. 12

Life, or Something Like it

The trip to Rugen took a few minutes short of three hours in the Audi Q7. As they drove east on the A20 autobahn, Martha asked how fast they were going. Nate had put the cruise control on 220, he told her, or about 130 miles an hour. He'd driven faster, but he feels comfortable at this speed on long trips. What impressed her more was how many other cars passed them at considerably higher speeds.

This long stretch of A20 ran without speed limits, and they were able to make good time until the Rugen cutoff, just before Greifswald. They followed the E251 into Rugen, and then Nate navigated to the Strand Promenade along the water. They found the Prince Spa and Hotel, and Nate pulled the car into the semi-circular driveway. It was wide, square horseshoe shaped building, with the open front of the horseshoe facing the Baltic Sea. The driveway and entrance were on the backside of the square horseshoe.

At the two ends of the horseshoe were square three-story towers that rose above the rest of the building - each floor in each tower was just large enough to house a suite. Nate had booked the upper floor of the south tower. He asked the porter to show Martha to the room while he checked in. He tipped the porter, who thanked Nate and led Martha toward the elevator.

After he checked in, Nate asked the hotel to keep a valuable package in their safe. The clerk charged Nate 120 euros. Nate would get a 100 euro deposit back when he returned the key. The clerk brought Nate around to their secure area. Nate signed out a safety deposit box, and received a key. He opened the box, and deposited the manila envelope in that contained Martha's passport, purse, and money, and then locked the box.

Nate made his own way to the suite, where Martha was already unpacking. The tower room was L shaped, with the waterfront and outside walls windowed, and the tower's stairwell and elevator shaft blocking the inland view across the main building. Being on the top floor of the tower meant the cathedral ceilings were higher, giving a spacious and grandiose feeling.

Martha had instantly fallen in love with the view overlooking the sandy beach to the Baltic Sea. She turned to Nate as he stepped in the room. "As long as I like?" she smiled.

"Absolutely," he assured and kissed her. She kissed him back willingly.

"What's the catch?" Martha asked skeptically.

"There's no catch," Nate held his palms out, showing he had nothing to hide. "You can stay here, or anywhere, as long as you like."

"And you'll pay for it all?"

"Ah!" Nate held up a qualifying finger. "I will pay for as long as our deal is in place."

"Okay," Martha nodded, feeling stupid for falling for his simple trick. "And how long is that?"

"Brandt said these things usually take a week."

"And so you and I are staying here for a week?" Martha checked.

"If you want," Nate nodded.

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then we'll go where you want, within reason," Nate qualified.

"But the deal is still on until you get your money back," Martha checked.

"Of course," Nate offered neutrally.

"And once the deal is off, I am cut off," she worried.

"I'm not going to leave you stranded somewhere," Nate assured her. "Once my money comes in, we will proceed at whatever pace we choose together to whatever place you want to go, within reason, and I will get you there safely."

"Okay," Martha nodded. "Why do you keep saying 'within reason'?"

"Because if you say you want to be taken to the Taj Mahal," Nate explained softly, "that's a bit out of my range."

Martha nodded. She turned to look out the window to the sandy beach. "I need a bathing suit," she declared.

Nate walked up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her tummy. "At least two, I should think" he offered, and Martha smiled and put her hands over his. "It's four o'clock. We can go shopping now while we stroll around," Nate offered, as they looked upon the beach together.

"Okay," she turned to him. He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her, and she kissed him back.

They left the hotel and strolled down the promenade hand-in-hand. There were shops, cafés, and restaurants everywhere. And people everywhere. Happy couples and families were ambling along.

After ten minutes of window shopping, Martha saw a bathing suit store she liked. They had already passed a half dozen of them that all looked the same to Nate. He followed her into the seventh store. And then Martha froze in the store. "Do I ... ah ... have to pick what you say?" she whispered.

"Pick whatever one you like," he offered, "and I'll do the same." Martha nodded, now understanding his comment 'at least two'.

While Martha focused on an assortment of one-piece bathing suits, Nate confined his search to bikinis - not just bikinis, but string bikinis - the kind where a string threads through the bottom of the breast cups, letting the cups adjust their position and width. He was torn between an all-white, all-black, or a burnt red design with dark grey trim.

Martha was still musing over one-piece styles when Nate walked over to her. "I like that one," he pointed to a black one-piece on a mannequin. Martha hadn't noticed it before, but she agreed - it looked nice. Part of the fabric was see-through, and the solid fabric curved up the body and covered the important parts. It was both risqué and modest at the same time. In the end, it was the one she chose. Then Nate brought her over to the bikinis, and he showed her the three choices: white, black, or burnt red/grey. She chose the red/grey one, but in a cup size larger. Nate also took the white bikini, and paid for the three bathing suits. It always confounded Nate how so little material could cost so much. The three items came almost to 200 euros.

They sauntered aimlessly along the busy tourist streets, and Martha stopped to look in nearly every shop window. She spied another bathing suit store she liked, and went inside. After 20 minutes of browsing, she selected a white, long-sleeve, sheer, tunic beach cover-up. It was slightly see-through, letting on onlooker just barely see the bathing suit beneath. Nate thought it could be a fun addition to her at-home ensemble, imagining what she would look like naked underneath. He happily paid for the cover-up, which cost less than any of the bathing suits, and had more fabric than the three of them combined.

During another hour of strolling, they bought beach towels and a large beach blanket. It was becoming cumbersome to carry all the purchases, so they circled back to the Prince Hotel and dropped their parcels in the room, and returned to lazily browse the streets. They walked hand-in-hand while Martha took in more window shopping. Martha settled for a seaside restaurant as hunger overtook her shopping instincts. Just after they ordered their meal, Nate's cell phone chimed. He told Martha an email from Briana announced she had arrived in Toronto and was staying with friends for a few days. Martha rested her head back, closed her eyes, and let out a long, cleansing breath.

"Do you want me to send a reply?" Nate asked.

"Tell her I am vacationing in Rugen Island, and I will be home in a week." Nate typed in the message as a third person, as in 'your mother is vacationing ...' and he sent it.

A moment later, a new email arrived. "Is she still with you because of me?" is all it said. He read it out to Martha.

"Might as well tell the truth," Martha said. "There's nothing she can do now." Nate typed the one word 'yes' and pressed the reply button. There were no more messages.

After dinner they strolled along the promenade, holding hands. The air was electric with street artist and performers, music, dancers, and throngs of tourists. After watching the performers for nearly an hour, Martha said she wanted to go back to the hotel. They walked together slowly, arriving in their room in a calm, relaxed atmosphere.

Martha used the bathroom and locked the door. When she came out five minutes later, Nate was reading a book on the bed. He patted the bed beside him, and she lay down on her back. Nate leaned onto his elbow, raised his head over hers, and kissed her softly, and she closed her eyes and kissed him back. He lowered a hand to her tummy and gently brushed his fingertips up and down her flat, firm belly while they still kissed. He broke off his kiss on her lips, and moved down, planting gentle kisses on her neck has his hand moved over the spandex fabric, finding the shape of her firm breasts.

Nate sat Martha up and pulled her white denim jacket off her shoulders, and then he grabbed the bottom of her spandex top and lifted it up. Martha helped by raising her hands over her head, and Nate pulled the top inside out over her upstretched arms and tossed it to the bottom of the bed. Martha lay back topless, her firm tits pointing to the ceiling, and Nate gently kissed all around her nipples. He felt them stiffen, and he tenderly suckled on one, then the other, before slowly moving his kisses down, down, down the midline of her tummy. He rolled Martha over gently, and she helped. Nate pulled down the zipper on the back of her skirt, and then rolled Martha back on her front, and she lifted her hips off the bed while Nate grappled the sides of the skirt and pulled it down her thighs. She slowly lowered her ass back to the bed, and Nate pulled the skirt off her legs and tossed it beside her top.

Martha lay naked on the bed while Nate stood up, and removed all his clothing. He returned to the bed, and softly kissed her left big toe, then her foot, then her ankle, and slowly worked northward until he gently brushed his puckered lips dead on Martha's pussy, and she let out a deep sigh. He started at the right toe, and again worked his way up her leg, until this time, he let his tongue dive between her lips, and he tickled her clit ever so gently. Martha moaned appreciatively.

Nate spread her legs gently, and took up a position between them, and started tonguing her sweet pussy in earnest. Martha closed her eyes and rested her hands on the back of his head, encouraging him to continue. She wasn't even aware her hips had started to rock gently, assisting Nate in his cunnilingus. Nate tickled Martha's side ribs with his fingertips as he tongued her clit more forcefully, and the combined sensations of tickling and tonguing vaulted Martha into a new level of excitement, and she started moaning louder.

Soon her hips were thrusting too much, and Nate lost traction on her little spitfire. He grappled his arms around her thighs and pulled them down, dampening her thrusting motion. Martha curled her fingers around his hair and started gripping tightly as Nate found his rhythm, and was quickly tonguing her clitoris toward detonation. With his hands around her thighs, he now pushed his face hard into her pussy, and she welcomed the intensified sensation with a loud cry.

Nate broke for the finish line - he used his chin and tongue together to maximize the force he could press onto the tissues protecting her clit, and his efforts quickly paid off. Martha heaved her hips skyward as she wailed a sentence with no intelligible words while her clitoris flashed a million volts of orgasmic energy through every nerve in her body. Her spasms spread to all her muscles, and Martha clenched in a body-wide release.

When Martha at last relaxed, she loosened her grip on Nate's hair, allowing him to move freely. He climbed up over Martha, and rested his body gently on hers, using his knees and one elbow as ground points to reduce the weight he pressed on her chest. With his free hand, Nate pulled the bed spread beside them and wrapped it over his back, until it fell down the other side, cocooning the embracing pair in a warm pocket.

They lay in naked silence, him over her, while Martha absentmindedly traced her fingernails up and down Nate's back with a lover's touch. Lying naked on top of Martha brought Nate's senses to life after five minutes, and he felt his cock growing with purpose. When fate could no longer be denied, Nate raised himself onto his hands and knees, and positioned his aching member between her open legs. The tip of his cock touched her opening, and her natural lubrication invited him in.

Instantly Nate was sliding in and out of Martha's hot pussy, and her fingernails started raking his back with conviction. He fucked her slowly, gently, with bridled passion. She stretched her head back, and he kissed her exposed neck, then tracked down her chest, to her breasts, and focused on her erect nipples as he continued his slow, tender lovemaking.

Martha lowered her hands, and gripped his solid muscle ass cheeks, and dug her fingernails in. Nate took that as license to increase his tempo and force, and he started thrusting inside Martha with greater authority. She moaned in appreciation to his heightened energy, and pulled his ass in toward her body on each stroke. Soon Nate was driving hard into her pelvis, and Martha rewarded his efforts with moans at each thrust.

Nate's slow start had awoken a monster that was demanding release, and Nate quickly felt his balls approach critical mass. The monster took over, and Nate slammed hard into Martha's hips, and Martha's moans became cries. At last the monster burst free, and Nate drilled his cock deep inside Martha as the first waves of convulsive jets sprayed hot cum against the deep end of her tunnel. She felt her pussy fill with his warmth, and Martha dug her fingernails as hard as she could into his ass.

Maybe five or six waves of orgasmic spasms pumped Nate's semen into her hot pussy before Nate finally relaxed and pulled out. He rested on his side beside Martha with his arm draped over her chest, just below her breasts. Nate cocooned them both under the bedspread again. They lay together in blissful, warm silence for a long time.

"Don't take offence," Martha finally broke the silence, speaking quietly, "but how can you be a dominating master one moment and a tender, spectacular lover the next?"

"I was spectacular?" Nate chirped, feigning childlike delight.

She slapped him gently. "Yes you were, just now," she said, "but you were mean and rough at other times."

"I don't think there is just one way to have sex," Nate offered. "I think people fool themselves when they talk about 'normal' sex."

"But sex doesn't always have to be about power, or control," Martha said.

"I agree," Nate said. "Sometimes it is about tenderness, and love. Sometimes it's nothing more than a quick fuck. Sometimes it's slow. Sometimes sex is about sharing, sometimes it is about selfless giving, and sometimes it is about selfish taking." Nate paused. "It is all those things. Some people are into pain - to them pain and sex are two different points on the same scale. Some people are into humiliation. Some people are into domination. Some people like being in power, some people like others holding power over them. I think a good lover is someone who can do a range of those things - who is willing to experiment, both for themselves and for their lover."

"So you like to do all those things?"

"Me?" Nate asked rhetorically. "No, not all. I am not into pain that much, although I had a girlfriend who liked pain, so I experimented both ways. And I don't really for humiliation. I especially don't get scat or golden showers."

"What?!" Martha asked. "What are those?"

"Scat is sex play with poop, and a golden shower is letting someone piss on you."

Martha sat up in the darkened room. "Are you fucking serious? People do that?"

"Hey," Nate held his palms up, "it's not for me, but like I said, there is no such thing as normal sex."

"So you're saying" Martha thought, "if my partner wanted to piss on me, I should let him do it because we should be good lovers and try different things."

"No," Nate shook his head. "There have to be boundaries. You have to know and say what your boundaries are, and you have to respect each other's boundaries."

"So if your partner said her boundaries were missionary sex only, you'd respect that?"

"I'd respect it," Nate said, "but it's unlikely we would stay together very long, or at all."

"Because she won't put out for you," Martha snapped.

"No," Nate replied calmly, "because the kind woman who insists on missionary sex only is probably not as adventurous as the person I would want to share my life with."

"So when you aren't forcing women to have sex with you ..."

"I never forced you or anyone," Nate interrupted sharply.

"My mistake," Martha restarted. "When you don't negotiate a certain arrangement in advance, what kind of sex do you have?"

"Every relationship is a negotiation about sex," Nate pointed out. "In our case, we were just honest and explicit about it."

"You're not answering my question," she complained.

"Yes I did," Nate retorted. "You need to get past some mythical notion that 'real' couples have 'normal' sex. Everyone negotiates, everyone has limits, and everyone does something they don't like doing in order to please their partner. You said so yourself," Nate pointed out, "you started out not liking anal sex. Someone asked you to do that - someone pushed your boundaries, and you did something you didn't like to, and you learned something from it."

"Supposing," Nate offered, "your faithful and loving husband of 20 years, whom you adore, came home one day and said he really wanted to piss on your tits." Martha wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You would do it, or you would refuse, but you would think about it, and you would discuss it with him, because if it is that important to your life partner, then maybe you can see your way through it." Nate paused. "Most men bring up a three-way at least once in their marriage, and most women refuse, but at some point in their relationship, they negotiate it. All relationships involve a negotiation about sex. The only less common element about us is we explicitly negotiated sex at the very outset. You wanted something, I wanted something. We negotiated. Most couples wade into the negotiations more organically, and over a long time."

"So you would call this - us - a normal relationship," Martha challenged.

"In case you haven't been listening, I am saying there is no such thing."

Martha was angry. She was angry at Nate, but not sure why. He was right, but he had to be wrong. She was angry at herself for even bringing it up. A perfectly beautiful evening had been spoiled - again.

"How many other women have you done this with," Martha asked. She figured the night was ruined. Nate looked at her uncertainly. "I mean, had sex with them because they asked you to help them."

"First of all," Nate replied calmly, "I never asked. Both Briana and you offered. Both your offers were explicit and clear."

"Okay, okay!" Martha cut in. "How many times have you been propositioned for sex in return to help them?"

"Twice," Nate nodded. "Briana and you." She looked at Nate incredulously. "Look," Nate defended, "it's not as though I go out looking for this. I bumped into Briana by total coincidence, and she offered, just as you offered. This is all new to me."

"And so you just happened to record her? That was new to you too?"

"No," Nate answered. "I recorded her, as I did you, because any time I am alone in my apartment with a woman, I record it until I know what is going on. It's for my own protection."

"Seriously?" Martha rebuked. "What kind of women do you hang out with?"

"Well, Briana for one," Nate replied without hesitating, "who lied about what I said and did." Martha fell silent.

"I'm sorry I brought this whole thing up," she finally said.

"Well listen," Nate offered, "I was just trying to defend and explain myself. I wasn't trying to ..."

"No," Martha interrupted. "That's not what I mean. We had a very nice night tonight. You were very kind, and I ruined it. I'm sorry for that."