Frankie stood on the porch of what was Mrs. Young's house. Behind the door before him, was the house where he learned how to make love to a woman. A year before, he was a high school graduate with some scholarships and lawn mowing money he'd spent four years earning getting ready to attend college. He was also a virgin. That, however, was the only thing he wasn't before he left. That was taken care of by Sandra, or Mrs. Young when they weren't being intimate. It was a beautiful June day and Frankie stared at the door, with the key in his hand.
His thoughts drifted back to what was a cool day in October while he was in his first semester of college. It was when he learned that his private tutor and favorite client had passed away from a terminal brain tumor. A fact she had kept from everyone except her doctor. Frankie had just finished his last midterm and was sitting in his dorm room with Sam, his roommate, discussing how to celebrate the end of midterms when his cell phone rang.
"Hello?" asked Frankie.
"Frankie," sobbed his mom.
"Mom? What is it?"
"Mrs. Young... passed away."
"What? When?"
"Either last night or this morning."
"How?"
"No one knows yet. We were going to go out for coffee and, oh Frankie, I found her in her bed. I called 911 but they said it was too late and nothing could be done."
Frankie's heart sank as he listened to his mom weep. It reminded him of when he was a small child and how she'd cry, usually about his dad, and he'd hold her while she'd cry in his hair. "Do you want me to come home, Mom?"
"No. You've got school and I know Sandra wouldn't want you to neglect your studies."
"I want to come for her funeral, Mom."
"Her lawyer is coming by later to talk to me. He said something about the arrangements already been made. I'll call you later when I know more."
"Okay Mom. Are you sure you don't want to come home now?"
"No Frankie. Stay there and don't miss class. I'll call you in a few days when I know more."
The funeral was the following weekend so Frankie could attend without missing class. It was there Mrs. Young's lawyer, Mr. Rosin, handed Frankie an envelope. In it was her farewell to him in a letter that he carried in his wallet everywhere he went. At Christmas, Frankie learned that Mr. Young, Mrs. Young's ex-husband, was contesting the will, claiming that Mrs. Young wasn't of sound mind. Mr. Rosin got the court to schedule the hearing during Frankie's Spring Break, as he needed to be there.
Frankie hated that his entire Spring Break was spent in court. Mrs. Young's doctor testified that she learned her fate just days before the Thompson's left for their niece's wedding. Frankie realized that it was just a few days before she joined him in the erotic shower, and changed his life forever. He thought back to the letter in his wallet, and how she spoke of the courage to do what she did. The doctor shared that she lived longer than he had expected and admitted that she had good and bad days, which often resulted in odd injuries to her body, mostly from falls due to the tumor affecting her fine and gross motor skills. Frankie suspected he might have been the cause of a few of those odd injuries due to her desire to experiment sexually.
Frankie testified that he had worked for Mrs. Young and the other ladies of his neighborhood for four summers mowing lawns and maintaining their yards including trimming the trees and bushes six days a week. He told the court that Mrs. Young, Mrs. Jones, and Mrs. Garcia fed him lunch even though he never asked. When Mr. Young's lawyer questioned Frankie about her last summer, Frankie admitted to being in the home and helping fix things that were broken, including a clogged toilet, a broken shelf, and other minor repairs that seemed to be needed between his visits. He testified about how he had done repairs for her in the past, but not to the level he had that final summer and thought it was the due to the house being old and things just wearing out. He also shared that they made plans for him to help her decorate her home for Christmas when he planned to come home for his Thanksgiving break, and take the decorations down before he returned to school at the end of his winter break.
Frankie's mom testified how she and Mrs. Young met every Wednesday for coffee. Mrs. Young would ask about Frankie's progress in school, how she missed his biweekly visits to mow her lawn, and asked when he would return. Frankie's mom shared how she was the one that found Sandra dead in her bed when she was late for their coffee date. Mr. Rosin played the 911 call and the paramedics testified that she had died in the night and nothing could be done to resuscitate her. Frankie's heart ached listening to his mom's frantic call and the calm demeanor of the paramedics. This wasn't just some woman to him; this was his first lover, and his first love.
To Frankie, the trial dragged on. On Thursday, the judge declared that Mrs. Young was of sound mind and was entitled to leave her estate to Frankie, as he was practically a son to her, and had given no indication to anyone, except the doctor who knew better, that she was dying. The fact that she had made plans for Christmas, knowing she would not live to see it, was how she struggled to hide her condition even from Frankie's mom, her closest friend. The judge also stated that since Mr. Young did contest the will, he was enforcing the clause that stated if he did, he was to receive only one-percent of an account that Mrs. Young had established for him. Thus, instead of getting the $100,000, he received $1,000 and made to pay all the court costs.
Now, Frankie stood on the porch of his new home, took the key in his hand, and unlocked the door. He turned the knob, the door creaked open, and he stepped in. The furniture was covered in sheets and a thin layer of dust lay on the floor. Frankie looked around and was flooded with memories. There was the couch were she had him tie her wrists and ankles. He remembered is so well. It was a Saturday evening, about two or three weeks before he left for school, and she had asked him to come over to fix a broken shelf. She swore she set a vase on it, but the damage didn't fit the story. He fixed the shelf quickly, and she invited him to stay for dinner. She fixed him a steak, with macaroni and cheese, and corn on the cob. Frankie's mom was on a date and would be gone for hours while Sandra (as it was their intimate time) wanted to do something new and kinky. She showed Frankie the special restraints she bought, placed a double layer of thick bath towels on the sofa cushions to avoid any damage from their combined sexual fluids, and told him to tie her to the couch naked.
While she stripped down, Frankie lit a few candles, dimmed the lights, and tied her to the couch exactly as she asked. The restraints were soft, smooth leather with fur lining the parts that would encounter her skin to prevent irritation. Frankie put the cuffs around each of her wrists and tightened them so she couldn't slip out, then tied the two together with the special ties meant for such a purpose. He made Sandra lay on the sofa, face up, naked, and stretched her arms above her head. He took the straps of the cuffs and tied them of the end table that sat next to the couch. She made no effort to stop him, but watched in silence, licking her lips. The ankle restraints were a bit larger, and lacked the ability to be connected like the wrist ones. He placed one around her left ankle first, making sure she couldn't free herself or be injured, then moved her leg so it went along the top of the sofa, tying it the rear leg. He repeated the process with her right ankle, placed her foot on the floor, and attached the strap to the front sofa leg. This placed Sandra in the most lewd, vulnerable, and exposed position she'd ever been in.
Then she said, "Frankie, I want you to blindfold me, and make me cum without your cock. Use what you wish, your tongue, your fingers, but not your cock. And not until I say. Make me beg for your cock Frankie. Then, feed it to me first. Don't cum in my mouth. Not tonight. And don't untie me until we are done. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sandra," he said softly as he checked her restraints.
"Any questions Frankie?"
A million questions ran though Frankie's mind. Why did she want such a restricted session? Why couldn't he cum in her mouth? Why was she so specific when so many times she let him do what he wanted? Yet he knew, for the most part, he was going to be doing what he wanted. He was going to bring her pleasure, make her cum, and in the end, they would make love. He never thought of these sessions as fucking, but as lessons in love making and pleasing his partner. Just before he slipped the blindfold over her eyes, he kissed her softly, and stared deeply into her eyes. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but the words wouldn't form. She smiled and mouthed, "I know," as he slipped the blindfold over her eyes.
"Play some music Frankie," she whispered. "Something soft and romantic."
