One Thursday night in early June I received a call from my neighbor Sally. Her prominent attorney husband was out of town for a trial. She needed an escort to the metropolitan area's social event of the season, the Tiara Ball, Saturday evening. Being a widower for a year, having attended the ball before and Sally being a knockout I said yes.
The ball was special to attend seeing the city's finest attired in ball gowns and tuxedos.
Surprisingly Sally's husband Ron showed up 10ish. His trial settled early that afternoon. He caught the first plane home to attend the event.
I had touched base with everyone I knew at the ball. So, I headed out of the ballroom for home.
On the curb outside was a woman about my age. She was sitting with her legs spread open, covered by her dark blue satin ball gown, with an empty champagne flute in her right hand, her left elbow on her left knee and her left palm propping up her head. She was wearing white elbow length gloves. She looked dejected.
She looked familiar.
"Are you ok? I inquired.
"Eeeh."
"Then no."
"Correct."
"Care for some company?"
"Sure".
I sat on the curb to her right. Normally I would not sit on a curb in my tux, but it was going to the dry cleaners Monday.
I stuck out my hand "My name is Mike."
She put the empty flute on the ground and stuck out her right hand. "Martha, but you can call me Marti."
"People tell me I'm a good listener. Want to talk?"
"Sure. Well to make a long story short my ex-husband is here with his new young wife. Seeing them here having a great time makes me feel terrible. He would have never gotten on the Tiara Ball invitation list without me. He's a guy from nowhere, we fell in love, got married, built a life and had 3 kids. Now he dumped me for a young chick. Thank goodness for the pre-nuptial signed before we got married. Otherwise, he would have some serious money."
We engaged in small talk for a several minutes.
Marti said "Can I trouble you to take me home? I came with my brother. I'm sure he wants to stay."
"Absolutely". I replied.
We returned to the ballroom.
She approached a guy who looked familiar. I recognized him. It was her brother David. He is friends with my cousin Elaine. They attended the city's elite private school and became great friends. We met a few times. Three decades ago I was coming back to town for a summer internship between grad school years. David and Elaine were to set me and Marti up. Elaine told me Marti and I would be a good match. But Marti fell in love with a guy who became her husband and we never got together.
Marti's family was one of the richest in the metropolitan area. They made their money in several media companies. The family net worth was over $3 billion.
I recognized her from the local daily newspaper society section.
We left the ballroom and headed to my car, a white late model Jeep Grand Cherokee.
Marti and I chatted about lots of things. Travel, children, history, movies, among other things. Conversing with Marti was easy. We were immediately comfortable talking with each other. My cousin and her brother were right. We seemed to be a good match.
While driving I got a good look at Marti. She was nice looking with a perfect tan. She had kept trim over the years after having three children. Marti obviously took time on her ear lobe length medium brown hair and makeup for the Tiara Ball. Her boobs were a 32B. With all her money she could have had any sized boobs. Marti's upper torso would have looked great with big boobs. But her family was famous for not flaunting their wealth, in this case through breast augmentation.
She did not live in the city's elite suburb; she lived in a suburb down south. The 30 minute drive went by quickly. Her home was on a country club golf course developed by her family. It was a traditional colonial style mansion with two white columns on the front porch. It looked like Tara. The well-lit yard displayed immaculate landscaping.
I walked her to the front door.
"Thank you very much for bringing me home. I enjoyed our conversation."
"My pleasure. I enjoyed our conversation as well."
"May I give you a hug?" Asked Marti.
"Certainly."
We hugged. Not to tight, not to light, not too brief. It was just right.
We parted.
"See you around."
"See you around." Marti replied with enthusiasm in her voice and a smile.
I thought about Marti a lot that week. We had a good time. Conversing with her was like we had known each other for years. Since my wife had been gone only a year I was gun shy about contacting her. I should have done it the past week, but I dawdled. I was letting opportunity slip through my fingers. But then...
At 11:30 Saturday morning there was a knock at my door. I opened the door. It was Marti. Fortunately, I was dressed for the day in a blue knit shirt, tan shorts and topsiders.
"Hi Marti."
"Hi Mike."
She held a small, white gift-wrapped box with a silver bow on top.
"This is for you for Saturday night."
"Thank you. Want to come in?"
"Certainly." Marti had a warm smile on her face.
She was dressed in a v neck light blue and white floral print that went well with her blue eyes. There was a hint of cleavage. The dress fit her perfectly. Marti was wearing a fashionable Kauai hat pushed back on her crown.
"Make yourself comfortable." I said pointing to my sofa. I sat in a matching chair across the coffee table from her.
I opened the box. Inside was a Rolex watch.
"I can't accept this. I already have watch. This is too much for driving you home. But you can buy me to lunch."
"I'm not trying to buy your friendship. I just really appreciate you taking me home when I was down in the dumps. I want to show my appreciation for your kindness. Lunch sounds good. Where do you want to go?"
"Let's go to your favorite lunch spot."
"Let's. I'll drive."
We walked to my driveway.
Marti was driving one of my favorite cars, a white Mercedes-Benz 190 SL convertible. Judging by the looks it was recently restored or detailed.
"I love your car."
"Thanks. My family usually buys American made cars since we made our money here. I made this exception.
We went to the Grand Cafe a first-rate restaurant on the Plaza.
We were seated at a booth towards the back by a huge bay window. She had the salmon salad and a white zinfandel. I had the grilled salmon with a Riesling.
Two of her friends stopped by to chat. She graciously introduced me to them. Maybe they were checking me out.
I scored points with Marti when one of the owners, a fraternity brother, stopped to say hello.
Conversation between us remained smooth and natural. Time flew by.
Marti addressed last Saturday night.
"Thanks so much for talking with me and taking me home last Saturday. I have never been so low in my life. Seeing my ex flaunting his new wife at the Tiara Ball ruined the evening. It was so embarrassing. All my friends were there. I wanted to die. Then you showed up. You listened to me. You gave my morale a boost. I will never forget you."
That made me feel good. I made a positive difference in someone's life.
When we were the only customers in the restaurant, I suggested we leave so the staff could prepare for the evening.
The conversation continued to flow during the drive home.
Sitting in the driveway we chatted for a bit.
"Are you available for a date next weekend?" I asked.
"Yes! Unfortunately, only on Friday."
"It's a date. How do I contact you?"
"Just call me at my family foundation. That's where I office."
With that I leaned over and gave her a kiss on the lips.
As I was getting out of the car I said, "I'll call you this week."
"Looking forward to it" Marti replied with a big grin on her face.
I was looking forward to taking out Marti. However, our social standings were different. I was a CFO for a medium sized distribution company. I was in the top 10% earnings wise. Being a stockholder in two successful companies during my career I was in the top 2% net worth wise.
Marti was a different story. Her share of the family fortune had to be north of $100 million. That put her in a different league. But I was anxious to see how things played out.
Wednesday afternoon we set our date. Saturday evening we would dine at the city's top country club outdoor patio, weather permitting, then see a Woody Allen comedy.
I did not know many people who belonged to that country club, but three of them were there Saturday evening.
One was the state's former lieutenant governor. We were fraternity brothers and my cousin served as his chief of staff.
The other two were my neighbors Ron and Sally.
Several people stopped by to say hello to Marti. Again, she introduced me to her friends. Maybe they were checking me out.
We both enjoyed the movie. I took her home.
When she opened the front door her youngest, second daughter, Chloe, appeared in the foyer. She was home for the summer from grad school. Chloe stayed around long enough for introductions and disappeared into the house. Maybe she was checking me out.
We ended the evening with a goodnight kiss and a date next Saturday night.
Things were going well between us. I was looking forward to the upcoming Saturday evening.
We attended a period piece movie and had dinner at a local Italian restaurant. During dinner we had great conversation about movie.
Walking out of the restaurant we held hands for the first time. It felt good.
When I got her home we heard noise upstairs. Marti said it was Chloe. We kissed to end the evening. She being 5' 4" and me 6' 0" Marti stood on her tip toes so she could wrap her arms around my neck as we kissed. The kiss lasted about 20 seconds. We made a date for the following Friday.
I thought about putting the moves on her but did not for two reasons.
One, our relationship was progressing well. It was way, way too early to make any moves. I did not want to push things and screw up the relationship.
Two, her family was rich, prominent and influential. If my moves were unwanted, they could cause me problems.
Wednesday evening Marti called me up just to talk. The conversation was pleasant and natural. We must have chatted for an hour about anything and everything. Our relationship was proceeding nicely.
On my way to her house Friday evening Marti called me on my cell phone. She had a problem. The zipper on her dress from an afternoon event was stuck. Chloe was gone for the evening. She asked if I could help her with the zipper. I said I would.
I was wearing my standard summer outfit of a knit shirt, shorts and topsiders.
Marti greeted me at the front door with a big smile and grabbed my right hand. Her dress was a strapless gold sequin number. It fit like a glove. We walked through the living room, down a hallway to the master bedroom. The bedroom was dominated by a king-sized bed.
She turned around and lifted her hair. The zipper pull was three inches from the top of the dress.
"Take it slow and be careful, it's an expensive dress."
"Careful is my middle name."
She giggled.
I grabbed the zipper pull and slowly pulled it down her back. The zipper was not stuck. I pulled it easily down her back to her waist.
Once the zipper reached the bottom stop Marti pulled the dress front down and spun around.
"I'm so horny I..."
I interrupted her with a firm kiss to the lips.
After about 15 seconds my hands cupped her boobs. My thumbs and index fingers rubbed her nipples. She arched her back.
Marti hands lowered her dress to below her hips. The dress fell to the floor. Out of the corner of my eye I saw she was not wearing underwear. And she had an all over tan.
She started to pull my shirt over my head. I acted in kind by stepping out of my topsiders and lowering my shorts and underwear down my legs.
We were both bare. We resumed kissing.
I placed my hands on her sides below the ribcage. I eased her onto the bed.
Her legs were draped over the bed edge. My hands returned to her boobs. My lips to hers.
In ten seconds my lips left her lips. My tongue moved down her face, neck, between her boobs and all the way to her slit. I gave her slit two long slow licks. She groaned. Marti's love box was wet.
