New Xanadu Pt. 04

It took until Sunday afternoon for me to accomplish the beginning of the end of my marriage. The rest of the process that would turn me into an ex-husband took another four months, with many unpleasant moments along the way. It's not something I really want to dwell on, so suffice it to say that Gloria divorced me, though at least for the usual "irreconcilable differences" and not my sordid sex life. Since I was able to get very liberal visitation privileges with Little John, I was not too busted up about that. Yeah, my son is now the product of a broken home, but that was going to happen sooner or later, and maybe sooner will work out better for him.

So, there I was, almost 30 and single. Not quite as well off as before (she got the house and there was child support, which I didn't mind at all, and alimony for 2 years, which I did), but otherwise free to pursue whatever lifestyle I preferred.

That new lifestyle began with me packing a week's worth of clothes and some other stuff into the trunk of my car and making a call to Martha's answering service. They had a message for me, to park my car at space 212 in a certain garage in Evanston, where I would be met and brought the rest of the way to the condo on Sheridan.

When I pulled into the garage spot there was an SUV backed into 214, with the limo driver, Joyce, at the wheel and a guy I didn't know in the passenger seat. When I got out he got out and asked, "You John?" When I said I was he said, "My name's Sam. I work for Mary. Martha said you needed a lift to her place." I said I appreciated the help, and dragged my suitcase from my trunk to the back of the SUV. After we got that put away Sam put me in the back seat and resumed his shotgun position. On the short ride to the condo he explained that parking spots were at a premium in the building, and their cars used all they had been able to buy. That was about all we had time for before we got to the garage, where Joyce dropped us off. Sam did the bypass thing with the elevator so that it took us straight to the 6th floor. I pointed to the center door, he nodded yes and headed for the apartment on the right.

Martha answered my knock. It looked as though she'd just had a shower. She looked good in a fluffy robe, her hair still wet and straight. She smelled good. I realized I was happy that it was her who had opened the door and not Mary. It felt like my dick was happy to see her, too. Naturally, there had been no sex at home, so he had healed up nicely and seemed to be ready to return to action. Martha more than turned me on.

Once again I found myself hoping for a kiss. Once again I didn't get it. Martha said, "Come on in, but try to be quiet. They're all asleep." I carried my bag into the living room and she locked the front door, then motioned me to follow her across the living room and through the master bedroom. Mary, Thomas, Matthew and Luke were snuggled together like a bunch of newborn puppies. The sheets were tangled, the air smelled of sweat and sex and the bowl of used condoms on the bedside table was half full.

When we got to the screen, Martha moved it aside, revealing a door. She turned the lock and opened it, then opened the door on the other side and motioned me through into what turned out to be an apartment that was the mirror image of the one I had just left - at least as far as the floor plan was concerned. Aside from the kitchen, which was pretty much the same, the furnishings in the rest of the condo were more traditional, given to heavier wood with a lot of leather upholstery. Notably missing were all the mirrors in the master bedroom. And in he living room I felt the absence of the picture in the other apartment that had caught my attention. That disappointed me. I wanted to spend some time with it, and I had a feeling that my time in Mary's apartment would be occupied by other things.

I could tell that someone read a lot, or wanted you to think they read a lot, because the living room had a four-section book-case along one wall, the top two shelves full and the third filling up. Eclectic, even if I could not read the titles, with the books ranging from leather-covered hardbacks to trade paperbacks with what looked like a half shelf of textbooks thrown in. My guess was that this wasn't for show, otherwise it would have been more consistently high-tone.

After we crossed the living room, Martha took me into the second bedroom. Another big bed, but again without all the mirrors on the ceiling and walls. Pretty basic, really. A good place to rest. Actually, the whole apartment seemed more restful for some reason. Of course, one good orgy might change all that, but for now it felt peaceful, which I suddenly realized is what I needed after all the excitement of Friday night, and the drama that followed when I got home.

Martha must have sensed my fragility, because she turned, took my suitcase which she dropped on the floor, and leaned in and hugged me tight. After awhile she turned her head up and looked into my eyes, I finally got that kiss I had been hoping for. A nice, slow, deep kiss that went on for what seemed like minutes. I could feel her breasts pressed against me, and she could no doubt feel my cock stiffening between us.

Eventually we broke the kiss, though not the hug. I was coming to like this woman more and more. What a contrast she offered to the Gloria I had just left. Way too heavy a thought, so I just said, "Something I can do for you ma'am?"

"Most definitely, but later. You know, you guys aren't the only ones who can get worn out from sex. Right now my cunt's a bit sore. And we need to talk."

"Sure, where would you like to do that?" I asked.

"Can you lie on a bed with a woman and still think with your big head?"

"Believe it or not, I'm pretty disciplined. If that's what's on the menu, big head it is. Though I'm also very flexible if she were to decide it was the little head she really wanted to talk to".

"Good, I could use some rest," she said as she led me into the master bedroom, like Mary's without most of the mirrors. "Let's lie down here and talk." She reached into the drawer of a bedside table and came up a pair of the padded handcuffs like she had used on me in the other apartment. "If it would help keep your hands out of the game, I can l offer you these."

"Actually, those might not help me keep my mind on whatever it is you want to talk about. Let's go with willpower for now."

Martha put the cuffs back in the drawer and lay down - on "my side" of the bed as it happened. Ah well, not my house, and being on the wrong side of the bed was a decent price to pay for crawling into it with her.

Once we were settled, with a good six inches between us, Martha said, "Right now I know a lot about you. Those reports that Mike got on you guys didn't stop with the local cops and D&B. As best I can tell, except for being a sex addict, you're a plain whitebread sort of guy. Respectable academic record, very nice job with a very nice salary to start and three good raises in your first three years. Healthy bank balance, even healthier 401(k). You pay off your credit cards every month. Not a whiff of drugs. No kiddie porn, much less the real thing. Fairly frequent visitor to local swinger clubs this last year. I guess that's when you marriage hit the skids. Sometimes alone, usually with a lady and usually a different lady from the ones before. You don't seem to have any racial or ageism prejudices, or at least your dick doesn't. If you're bi, that hasn't shown up yet.

"So far, so good. What I don't know is how genuine the surprise on your face was when you saw Mary's driver's license on Friday night. Are you really some guy who just stumbled on to her, or have you been targeting her all along?"

"Look," I said, "I'll swear on the Bible, the Kinsey Report or whatever you want me to; I was surprised when I made the connection. But that's what I'd say if I were lying, too. You came on strong about trust the other night. Right now you either give it or you don't."

"John, listen to me. I'm not just trying to protect Mary here. I'm trying to protect you. If I give you that trust, and it turns out you're running some sort of scam, you're almost certainly going to get hurt."

I turned on my side and started to say something but she said, "No, listen, hear me out. I'm not threatening you. That's not what I do, it's not even what I want hanging over you. You've got a nice cock, a nice mouth, nice eyes. So far, I feel good being around you and not just between my legs. But I'm not the one you need to worry about. Mary comes with strings, and some of those strings lead to other people who you do need to worry about. You remember that guy with the limp that I told you about. Well, I didn't ask for that. Mary must have talked to someone, and I didn't even know about it until later.

"And the asshole in St, Louis who was pimping Mary out? You remember that scene in The Godfather, 'Oh Paulie, won't see him no more.' Well, 'you won't see him no more' either. Mary doesn't know that, but she's not the only one who keeps in touch with Sally and Bruce. Bruce told me that the asshole did not make a pretty corpse.

"You may have noticed Thomas when you walked through the other bedroom. He says he has a couple of sons who'd be happy to help out with Mary's 'problem' but he says he's not willing to risk their health until he has a better feel for whether fucking Jack Doe's daughter on the Q.T. is going to get anyone messed up. I do think that we're all okay there. But if you were to go from just fucking her to fucking her over, I'm pretty sure that your life would become what they call complicated. Mess her over badly enough and it could go to very unpleasant or worse.

"If you are running a scam and it gets you seriously messed up or dead, I guess maybe you might deserve it. But I'm selfish. I wouldn't want that on my conscience. So, if you are, for all our sakes, please just back the fuck off now."

I let it go for a few seconds to make sure she was finished, then I said, "Okay, Martha, here's the deal. I have an idea, the start of a plan. That plan is going to need money. How much, I don't know for sure, possibly as much as a million bucks to get it going. I don't have that. My plan for solving that part of the deal was to get a bunch of well-to-do sex addicts together and have them all chip in. I figured that the people who looked and dressed like the people I saw at the SAA meetings I'd been attending in an up-scale Chicago suburb just might be able to scrape up $100K each. I picked you and Mary for the same reasons that I picked Matthew, Thomas, Luke and the other four who haven't joined up, yet anyway. You looked bored and like you didn't want to be in the program and, okay, I was hoping you might have no trouble getting a hundred grand together if you liked what you heard.

"I really did not know who Mary was or the money that she had - hell, she didn't dress that much better than the rest of us and never said anything much in the meetings, especially anything that might indicate she was richer than sin - until I saw her license and the light went on. I hadn't even known her last name until then. At the meetings it's always 'Hi, I'm so and so first name, and I'm a sex addict.' In 4 months she never said anything that would indicate she was in the upper 1/10th of one percent. I don't have the resources that you have for checking up on people, so there was no way I could be targeting her.

"Now, everything I just said could be a lie, but I'm not that good a liar. Ask my wife. I hear your warning. I like the perks my life brings me, and I am not in to pain. I'm still here and I plan to stay as long as it looks like we might be able to make it work."

"All right, John, I sure as hell hope you're on he up and up. The devil's in the details, so shall we go wake the others now and meet the devil?"

"How about first you tell me something about yourselves, you and Mary, and about the others for that matter? It might help me with my pitch if I knew who I was talking to."

"Okay. How's your dick, by the way," she asked with a gleam in her eye.

"Why, better, thank you ma'am? How nice of you to ask."

"I'm so pleased to hear that sir," she came back with equal cheekiness. She rolled over to the bedside table and brought back one of their little lube plugs. "You think you could stick that in me," she said, lifting her legs in the air and spreading her cheeks.

It's a tough job but someone has to do it, I thought, slipping the plug into her ass. Once it was in, Martha dropped her legs, pushed me onto my back and gave my cock a couple of jerks to make sure it was stiff. Then she straddled me and slowly slid down my pole. "Ah," she breathed as she hit bottom. "It's nice to be able to talk and fuck at the same time without putting more wear and tear on my pussy. Now you just lie there and try not to come until I'm finished."

"Don't get too athletic and I should be okay," I said. "Let's start with you."

"Not much to tell. My name's Martha, and I'm a sex addict, but you know that. My last name is Wilson. That's my maiden name because I've never been married. I'm almost 25 like Mary. We pretty much grew up together. My family was not rich like hers, or anything else like hers, I guess. My mom died when I was fourteen, my dad last year. That's what happens when you decide to put off kids for a long time and smoke like chimneys, and get unlucky, I guess. They left me some money, nothing obscene but more than enough so I don't have to sponge off Mary, which somehow makes if easier for me to do that when it makes sense. Like, her family owns this building and this is my apartment at what you might call a very reasonable rent because I am her friend.

"I think maybe Mary's dad likes to have me around her. In a way I had to grow up faster after my mom died. Maybe that's why the sex came later for me. I think about responsibility and consequences more than she does, at least in personal things. Anyway, I think her dad sees me sort of like Mary's - I don't know what you call it, the horse that they put in a team to keep the others more calm and under control. And it's not like they want me to spy on her. When she did her bunk to St. Louis, they never put any heat on me. Now, I do think they had someone follow me there, but they have never grilled me about what she does, or told me to tell her anything."

"Okay, I said, so you're Mary's friend and you're a guardian angle or whatever. I'd pretty much figured that out. But you've got to be more than that. I've seen the books, I've heard you talk; hell, I've seen you boss around men older than you are. You're more than that. For instance, do you have a job?"

"You're gonna laugh," she said.

"Believe me, I make it a point not to laugh at anyone who is sitting on my balls."

"I'm a high school teacher."

I must have made a face or a sound or something, because Martha lifted herself up and came down hard. Not so hard as to really hurt me, but I got the message.

"Lemme guess, Sex Ed," I said between gritted teeth. That got me a really hard squeeze from her anal sphincter, but at least she didn't slam down on me again.

"No, high school Civics and American History. And that's hard enough to do with all the hormones coming off those 17- and 18-year old studs. I swear, I doubt there's a virgin among them. The girls too. Hard to believe there's only 7 or 8 years between them and me. Life has gotten faster since I was in high school."

"My God, a young nubile female sex addict dropped into a sea of horny teenagers. What sort of masochist are you?

"Actually, I've tried a little BDSM, and if we ever go there you'll find I'm more likely to be the one with the whip. But to answer your question, I'm the kind that wants to teach. I'm good at it, and the thought of losing my job and maybe going to jail by messing around with a student is enough to keep me out of the kiddie pool. Until Mary's dad put the sex clubs off limits for us, I was able to compartmentalize my life pretty well. After that, SAA seemed worth a try for my own sake as well as hers."

That seemed to make sense so I said, "Moving on, what about Mary?" So far all I've seen is a sex starved poor little rich girl."

"She's certainly sex starved and rich. Yeah, she has what in school we'd call impulse control issues. But I think there is a big difference in the level of our sex addiction. I like a lot of sex, I want a lot of sex. Mary, on the other hand, needs a lot of sex. It's that need and lack of impulse control that has gotten her into trouble.

"But there's a side of Mary that you haven't seen yet, because all you know is from the SAA meetings and the past weekend. She's actually a very talented interior designer. With all the rich people she knows, she makes a comfortable living off of that. Not rich like she started out, but comfortable enough for her to be able to put together that hundred grand you're interested in out of what she's earned herself, which is not bad for three years out of school. Of course, her tendency to want to bed half of her clients, or more since she discovered women in St. Louis, gets in the way of making as much as she could. Worse, since she's been on the SAA wagon, she's been so antsy and bitchy that she hasn't really been as interested in her work, and some people don't really want to work with or for her. That's why I'm willing to see if your plan will work."

"Alright, anything about the other guys you want to share from all those reports you've been getting?"

Martha took a few more trips up and down my dick, gently this time. Probably to give herself some time to organize her thoughts, though her reasons didn't really matter to me. Whatever they were, it felt great.

"Well, the one with the most background is Thomas, which makes sense given he's about twenty years older than the rest of us. He owns his own construction company. Apparently, he's pretty good; lots of employees, some big commercial jobs as a prime contractor. He should be rich but he's not because he can't keep his dick in his pants. He wasn't lying the other night when he said his criminal record was clean. But he has a long history of sexual harassment claims from employees, and his solutions for those seem to be to pay off or, even worse, marry the women, and he has at least half a dozen children. Like he said, he's currently ending his fourth marriage. I'm not sure which has been more expensive for him, the settlements or the divorces.

"Hon, do you mind if we stop the talk for awhile. Your dick feels really nice in my ass, but my legs are getting tired." With that, Martha leaned forward so that I could start loving her tits. I could feel her fingers working her clit and she moved up and down on me faster. It wasn't long before we were both over the moon.

We showered, and then headed back to bed, Martha put my hands in my lap, "Play with that if you need something else," settled six inches away and resumed talking.

"Now Matthew. You're really going to love this. Turns out he's a pastor in a local very 'off-off-Broadway' sort of denomination, in an old mainline church building that he was able to buy after the neighborhood changed. His religion seems sort of home-made, but the IRS has bought it, so who am I to judge. He has what I would call an unusually large percentage of female parishioners, including some wealthy ones. I can't figure out how they found out about him, but I can guess why they stick around. I'm not sure what he's doing at SAA meetings, unless one or more of them got jealous and put the heat on him to mend his wicked ways with everyone else. Anyway, he's smart enough not to wear his wealth, but spreading the good word has led to a great bank balance."

"Not to mention spreading a bunch of legs," I said.