George and Martha: 1

 

Successful and comfortably well-off, Martha's life has taken a few turns that she hadn't
expected recently, leaving her lonely and longing for something better. George is also
lonely and is trying to get from one job to another. When their paths converge one evening
at a local bank, things brighten up for both of them.

---

 
Author's Note: Well my dear readers, we have to come to the end of all of my "already written tales." Will there be more? That all depends on what's left within me and how life treats me. I want to say it's been a pleasure to have posted here at BigCloset TopShelf and a shout out to Sephrena for having posted these tales up for me. When I get a chance, I will certainly post my next works here, so be on the lookout for them! Please, leave me a review if you have enjoyed this story. ~Clara.
 
This version of George and Martha: 1 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

---

 
Chapter 1
 

Martha was running late.

It hadn't been a great day. At 36 years old, Martha was successful and attractive, but her life had taken some turns lately that had left her wondering what she had done to anger the cosmos in such a way as to constantly be throwing more problems onto her shoulders every single day.

She had an extremely successful construction business that she had helped her father build, but now, with her father passing away and her husband filing for divorce last year, it seemed like her personal life was nothing but stress.

Many of her friends had abandoned her during the divorce, leaving her with just a few close friends and her family - such as it was. She missed going out and having fun. She missed having a man around, although not enough to do anything about it. She loved being independent and in charge of her own life. The last thing she needed was a husband.

Even work was less fun than it used to be without her dad. He used to take care of everything in the office while she was on site working hard and enjoying the camaraderie of the construction crew. At 6 feet tall, there wasn't much at Martha couldn't do alongside the strongest of her laborers and tradesmen. Those were fun days, working, swearing and sweating alongside the guys. Now, those days were few and far between.

Today was, what was becoming, yet another typical day on the job. Silk pant-suit, makeup and hair pinned into a businesslike hairdo instead of jeans, a tee shirt and a ponytail - dealing with bankers instead of carpenters, electricians, plumbers, etc.

Now, at 6:45 PM, all Martha wanted to do was make a deposit at the bank, go have a quiet dinner someplace, and head home to take a shower and put on a T-shirt and sweatpants. It was a simple plan - no too much to ask of the universe. The only thing messing up the plan was the scruffy, little woman at the teller window who was having a problem that the teller could not help her with.

"Please," the short woman whispered to the teller, "it's only $1000. I just need to cash the check so that I can get out of town. I have an audition in Florida in three days. I need to get down there."

The teller was polite, but cold and said, "I am sorry, I truly am, but I can't cash the check with an out-of-state drivers license, even if the check is issued by one of our customers. Now, sir, if you would please step aside..." Then, looking at Martha, she called out, "Ms Bradley, I can help you."

The dejected woman turned from the counter to walk away. Martha glanced at the woman and noticed that there was something different about her. She was rail thin and flat chested and stood oddly for a woman. In fact, she looked like she was going to cry. As if she was fighting mightily to hold back the tears. Martha took a really good look and realized that the woman was in fact a man. A very short man with very long, scraggly hair. He was very upset - not angry, but dejected and seemed as hopeless as anyone she'd ever seen. She wondered what could possibly make someone this sad.

He looked young, but maybe that was because he was so small - petite, in fact. Martha estimated his height at approximately 5'3" and, with his thin physique and long blonde hair, there was nothing masculine about him. He probably didn't weigh more than one hundred and fifteen pounds. She could not take her eyes off of him. He looked so sad and helpless.

"Ms Bradley?" the teller called.

Martha realized that she was being called and shook herself back to reality.

"Oh! Sorry!" Martha said to the teller, but as she was moving to the window, she called to the small man and said, "Excuse me! Sir... young man! Could you come here for minute? Maybe I can help you."

Martha handed the teller her deposit and paperwork as the young man came and joined her the window.

"What's the problem?" Martha asked.

The young man glanced from this imposing woman in a suit, a suit which cost at least $2000, then to the teller. He sniffled back some tears that threatened to run down his face and said to Martha, "I have a check for $1,000 from the local casino. I played piano there for the past week and I need to cash the check. I have no money, no gas, no food and I can't cash it here because I only have an out-of-state license."

"He is right, Ms. Bradley, we cannot cash a check for someone who isn't a customer unless he has proper ID. He is from Indiana. If he had a Connecticut ID, I could cash it," the teller confirmed.

The younger man looked back at Martha and shrugged. "I'm kind of screwed." A few more sniffles and he turned to leave.

"Just sign your check over to me, and I will cash it for you," Martha told him.

"Really!?" His face brightened and his eyes widened.

"It's not a big deal. I'll take a check from the casino. I do work with them all the time. No problem."

"Wow! Thanks!" said the little man, as his smile broadened to reveal round cheeks with distinct dimples. "I don't believe this. Thank you! Thank you!"

"Umm," the teller interrupted, frowning at the transaction taking place at her window. "I have to tell you, Ms Bradley, a second party check will take a few days to clear. Even though it's issued by one of our own customers."

"Just make it out as 'Pay to the order of Martha Bradley,'" Martha told the young man. Then she looked at the teller and smiled. "No problem, Ashley. Thank you."

Martha took the check and glanced at the name on it: George Edward Simpson III.

"Well," Martha teased, "that's quite a handle you've got there, George Edward Simpson the third."

The young man laughed, "Yeah. Most people just call me Jessie. My initials spell 'GES, so..." again he laughed, but this time there was a nervousness that showed his insecurity. Martha found that little laugh, combined with the dimples and cheeks, very disarming. He was very cute.

The teller completed the transaction and handed Martha the receipts and cash. Martha handed the cash to Jessie and, with a sweep of her arm, indicated that they should be exiting the bank.

Once outside, Jessie continued to thank Martha for being so nice. Martha waved that off, saying, "Oh, don't be silly. It was nothing." Then, she climbed into her Lincoln SUV, while Jessie climbed into a rusted, old minivan that had an ancient bungee cord holding up the rear fender.

Martha looked at the vehicle and shook her head. "Poor kid," she said with a sad laugh. She put her own vehicle in reverse and backed out of the parking spot.

As she started to pull forward, she heard the sounds of Jessie's minivan refusing to start. The engine chugged and chugged but would not turn over. After the third chug, Martha watched as Jessie crossed his arms over the top of his steering wheel and laid his forehead on them. Martha was torn as to what to do, but when his shoulders shook, gently, indicating that the poor thing was sobbing, she resolved to come to his rescue. She pulled into the parking space to the left of Jessie's minivan, rolled down her passenger window and indicated for him to roll down his.

"Just not your day, huh?" she joked.

Jessie looked a bit sheepish as he quickly wiped the tears from his cheeks and replied, "No, I guess not."

"Tell you what, I was just going to get some dinner by myself. Just lock up your car, jump into to mine and we'll go get something to eat. My treat."

"Oh, I don't know if I could let you do that. You have been so nice already. Maybe I could treat you..."

"Don't be silly. It didn't cost me a penny to be nice. Come on. Join me. It'll be nice to have someone to talk to. Besides, I want a good meal and I know how much money you have. It's my treat. You'll like it and, by the look of you, you could use a good meal."

Jessie thought for another moment or two, then shook his head, "I don't think I can. It's already a little late and I've got to deal with my car, and..."

"I have a cousin who owns a garage about three blocks from here," Martha said. "I'll call him to come get your car. He'll treat you right and give you a good price. I promise."

Jessie but his lip as he pondered this offer. Then he nodded. "I guess you have all the answers," he giggled. "Sure. Dinner would be very nice."

Martha called her cousin Jim on the way to the restaurant and arranged for one of his men to tow the car that evening and he promised to look at it first thing in the morning. Martha could tell that Jessie was nervous about the cost of the repairs, but she assured him that, if the car could be fixed, Jim would do it, do it quickly and do it for the lowest price possible.

They parked in front of a restaurant that looked small and intimate, but pretty expensive.

"Am I dressed well enough for a place like this?" Jessie asked.

"Oh, sure you are," Martha smiled. "This is a pretty casual place."

When they entered, Jessie wondered what Martha considered to be casual. Almost everyone was wearing a suit or some other type of office attire, but she reassured him that he was fine.

"Let's do this," Martha said after the waitress had taken their order. "To get to know each other, let's tell each other our complete life's stories on five minutes or less."

"Ok. You go first," Jessie said as he looked around the restaurant, obviously impressed by the ambiance.

Martha leaned back and thought for a moment. "Well, now that I think about it, this should be easy. There really isn't a lot to tell. I grew up in this town. My father started a construction company while I was in elementary school and, after high school, I went to work for him and studied business at night. Dad and I became partners in the business and things went very well, mostly because of the casino."

"Eventually I married one of the guys on the crew. We were married for six years - happy for about three - then things went sour and he left me three days after my father died - the day of daddy's funeral, actually. No kids, no dogs,... It's not a glamorous life, but it's not a bad one either. I have a great house, good friends and, even though things have gotten stressful, lately, I'm pretty happy as things are. Now you"

Jessie took a deep breath and let out a big sigh. "Well, my story is short and sweet, too. I grew up in Indiana. My mother was a history teacher at the local high school. She died in a car accident when I was 12. My dad taught at the local high school, too, but he taught music. He was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease not long after mom passed away. As he got worse, I quit school to take care of him. He died last year and now I am trying to make a living with the only skill I have."

"And what skill is that?"

"I play piano. My dad felt really awful about me having to leave school, but what choice did we have. He was a school teacher; not the kind of income that can handle a long term illness like Lou Gehrig's Disease. So, he made sure he taught me everything he could. He was an amazing musician. I'm okay. So, I'm trying to make a living playing piano... It's not easy."

There was something about this young man that Martha found intriguing. He looked so young. If she had to guess, she would've said 16 on 17, but the story Jessie had told would indicate that he was a good bit older than that, anyway.

"Oh, I am so sorry," Martha said. "How terrible to lose both your parents. My mom was never part of picture, if you no what I mean, but my dad meant everything to me. It sounds like your dad and my dad were very similar, though. They both taught us everything they knew."

"I guess."

Martha continued to take in this young man before her. He was, truly, beautiful. Not in the Greek God kind of way, almost like he was a young woman. He had perfect, delicate features. If his hair had not been as unkempt as it was, she would swear it was a girl sitting in front of her. Something about that excited her.

"Tell me, Jesse, how old are you?"

Jesse smiled. "I'm 28. I will be 29 in about two months. I know, I look a lot younger, don't I? How old did you think I am."

Martha let out the slightly nervous laugh. "I'm not sure, but I would've guessed a bit younger than that."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "I get that a lot. Let me tell you, Ms. Bradley..."

"Marty."

"I'm sorry?"

"My name," Martha said. "My name is Martha, but pretty much everybody calls me Marty."

"Oh, I get it. A woman on a job site with all those men..."

"No, just a nickname." Marty smiled. "I have been Marty as long as I can remember. I think people just thought it was cute to call a little girl by a boy's name. It's just stuck. So, please, just call me Marty."

"Okay... Marty... As I was saying, my whole life, people thought I was a lot younger than I really am. Everyone keeps telling me, you'll appreciate it when you get older,'" Jessie said. "Well, let me tell you, I am dead tired of constantly being carded."

They both laughed at that.

"It can be a little tough, actually - looking younger than I am," Jessie continued. "When I was in school, I looked younger than all of my classmates, and dating seemed pretty much impossible. Then, when I became my dad's caregiver, my judgement was always questioned by the doctors and nurses. It was tough."

"That's terrible," Martha sympathized. "It must have been hard. My dad died very suddenly. One minute he was mowing his lawn... the next he had a massive heart attack and he was gone."

As a waitress placed their salads on the table, Martha considered Jessie's story. He seemed like a nice kid. He was also really, really cute in a way that Martha had never considered a man could be before. He was small. He was vulnerable. According to his story, he had a nurturing side. Honest to God, if Martha were a guy, Jesse would make the perfect wife.

"Oh my God!" Exclaim Jesse, as he bit into a cherry tomato, "I haven't had anything this fresh in months! When I was taking care of my dad, I had a kitchen-garden just outside the back door and I could sit on the porch and eat tomatoes, or carrots when they were ready, or snap peas... Just tasting things this fresh make life worthwhile. You know what I mean?"

Martha smiled at his enthusiasm. He had almost nothing, yet a cherry tomato made him this happy. That is amazing!

"Listen," she said as she wiped a bit of olive oil from her lips, "even though Jimmy's sending someone to tow your car, it won't be ready till tomorrow morning at the earliest. So, I am going to make a suggestion and I hope you don't take it the wrong way."

"OK," Jesse said and smiled at Martha.

"Look, I don't make a habit of picking up strange men in the teller line at the bank." Now, it was Martha's turn to giggle her insecurity. "Honestly, I have never picked up a man any place. I just intervened because, well, I knew you needed some help and it didn't cost me anything to help you. Up to this point, we've just been getting to know each other and I think it's been a really nice evening. I think you're a really nice guy."

"Well, gee, Marty," Jesse said, "you really did help me out an awful lot and I like you, too. This has been a very nice evening and I think you're really nice woman, too."

"Aww, that's nice of you to say, Jessie. Thank you. Anyway - I am suggesting that we finish up dinner here and head back to my place. You can stay there until your car is ready and get a good night's sleep."

Jessie's eyes showed some confusion and she knew that her offer was being misconstrued, but Martha jumped back in, "Nothing to worry about, Jessie. I am just offering you a quiet, comfortable room for the night. I have six bedrooms and only one me, so you could relax and get some rest. In the morning, you could hang around until your car is ready or do a load of your laundry, if you want while I am at work, and when your car is ready, I'll drive you back downtown and you can be on your way. How does that sound?"

Jessie smiled and, if anything, it made him look even more feminine, more adorable. "That sounds very generous and gracious. Thank you, Marty. That would be wonderful."

Martha smiled, too, and she felt a very warm feeling washing over her. "Great. Now, eat your salad. I've ordered a nice dinner for us. Steak and potatoes for me and salmon with asparagus for you."

"Yum," said Jessie as he dug into his salad.

It was past 10:00 when they pulled up the driveway to Martha's house.

"Oh, my God! You live here!? It looks like a hotel!" Jessie shouted as he gazed on the sprawling estate that Martha had built when she was hoping to have a slew of kids with her husband. It was a very large, wooden home with a swimming pool off to one side and a lap pool and hot tub were visible through the sliding glass windows of a small outbuilding connected to the main, quite large house. The upshot-floodlights made it very dramatic at night.

Martha smiled at Jessie's enthusiasm. "Yep, just me in all this space. My friend, Grace, lives in the guest house right now." She pointed off to the right to another smaller, but equally beautiful house. "She's my oldest friend and she's going through her own nasty divorce right now, so... what can you do, you know? A friend in need and all that kind of stuff... Anyway, you may see Grace tomorrow morning. She's a hairdresser and when I have a big meeting, she helps me look more like a business woman than a construction worker."

Martha parked in the garage and she and Jessie went into the house. He had never seen a home this opulent. Beautiful fixtures and wood work everywhere, but nothing that was gaudy. Everything was just perfect. Tasteful.

"Ohhhh myyyy goodness," he whispered. "I could get used to this! It must be hard to live in a house like this, huh?"

Martha chuckled. "It's a little lonelier than I expected it to be, to tell you the truth, but let's not dwell on the past, right now. I miss being married, but, God knows, the last thing I need is a husband! Tell you what. You take the first guest room, it is the second one on the right as you go down that hall. Why don't you go take a shower and put on your pjs, then come back out here and we'll watch the news and talk before we call it a night. There's soap, shampoo and conditioner in the shower. You know, if you're going to wear your hair that long, you should really start conditioning. It will really help it shine. That's something that Grace is always on me about - 'You have to condition your hair!' - but I have to admit that she's right about it. It makes a big difference."

"Ok, I'll give the conditioner a try, but about my pjs..." Jessie said. "I usually sleep in my boxers and, honestly, I only have the clothes I'm wearing, so... I don't know... If that's going to be an issue, maybe we should just call it a night now."

Martha chuckled again. "Aww, he's shy." And she smiled as he turned a bit red. "You just take a shower and I'll find you something to wear and leave it on the bed." then she turned him towards the hallway and gently patted him on his rear end to send him on his way. "Off you go. Now, scoot."

Jessie laughed and hurried along.

"Um, Marty?" Jessie called from the door to the bedroom.

Martha was sitting on a couch in the living room watching the news. She was wearing blue silk pajamas with a matching silk robe. "Yes?"

"You only left a pajama shirt for me. Do you have any pants to go with this?"

"Well, yes, I do, but they'd never fit you. I'm a lot bigger than you are. I guarantee you that the shirt that I left will cover you to a least your knees, so just put it on and come on out. You'll be fine."

Moments later, Jessie stepped into the living room. The oversized shirt just touched his knees and he was struggling to roll up the sleeves as he walked over to sit on a loveseat near Martha.

"It is a bit big for me, I guess." He smiled.

"Oh, I don't know," said Martha. "I think it's kinda precious."

As Jessie went to sit on the leather loveseat, the shirt moved up and his naked bottom hit the cool leather making him jump up with a slight chirp of surprise.

Martha laughed. "Oops! You should smooth it under yourself when you sit. You'll be more comfortable."

As Jessie sat again, he gently smoothed the night-shirt under himself and sat self consciously with his legs tight together.

Martha was fascinated watching him. She wasn't sure if it was the wine she'd had at dinner or if it was because she was getting excited, but she was starting to grow very fond of this little man.

"This pajama top is really soft!" Jessie said. "Is it nylon or something?"

"It's silk," Martha smiled. "I figure that you spend a third of your life in bed, so you should indulge on the clothes you wear while you're there."

Jessie smiled. "Nice! I've never worn anything this expensive before."

Then she noticed that his hair was wet. Very wet. "Jessie, you can't go to bed like that. Your hair will be all knots in the morning. There's a drier in the bathroom."

"I know, but I prefer to just towel dry it."

"Well, I don't think you even did that. Wait here. I'll get a towel."

Martha returned with the towel and stood in front of Jessie. "Come on, sweetie, stand up here and let me dry it for you."

Jessie stood and Martha indicted that he should turn away from her. Then she dried his hair as best she could and ended it with a few playful, overly-rough shakes to his head.

As she did this, Jessie lost his balance and started to fall forward. Martha grabbed him as he tottered and pulled him to her, "Oopsie!" She shouted and they both laughed as she hugged him by his waist to herself. Suddenly she realized that she'd actually lifted him right off the floor and she was holding his bottom against her waist. Jessie didn't even seem to notice.

As she released him, she said, "Sit here on the couch and I will brush some of those tangles out of your pretty hair."

Jessie sat, smoothing his nightshirt again. "Pretty? That's a first! My father always called it 'rat's nest' and it was the only thing that we ever fought about. I really only let it grow because I hated to leave him alone once he got sick. Groceries can be delivered, but the barber doesn't make house calls! Since he died, I just don't think about it, at all."

Martha sat behind him with her legs on either side of his back and started to brush his long hair. His hair smelled like the flowery shampoo and conditioner in the guest bath and the tangles pulled out easily. As she brushed more and more, he began to lean back into her more and more until he was leaning with his head against her shoulder, his back against her front.

Martha's breathing increased a little bit. 'He's so cute,' she thought, 'and it's been so long since I've been with anyone.'

She put down the brush and rubbed the palm of her hand against the still damp hair and down the side of his face. His skin was so different than the men she knew. It was soft and pretty and it too smelled like flowers.

She reached around his face and turned him towards her.

"Have you ever been with a woman, Jessie?"

He shrugged his shoulders and considered the question. "Not really. I've had a couple dates, but that's about it. Don't get me wrong, I love women, it's just that I haven't had a lot of opportunities to be with them."

"Are you a virgin, then?"

Jessie nodded and lowered his eyes, a bit embarrassed.

Martha smiled, then pulled his face towards her and gently kissed his forehead. She pulled back and looked at him again. He was so much smaller than her, but she was so excited to be near him.

"That's ok. I think I might be able to help you with that."

She leaned in again and gave him a gently kiss on his lips and he welcomed it and he leaned into it. With Martha's arms still on his face and body, he held the kiss while he turned around to face her. As they kissed, he settled into the space between her legs. Martha could feel his growing member against her thigh and she started to feel herself growing moister by the moment.

"You are a very beautiful boy, George Edward Simpson The Third."

She slid her hand from his face down his chest to his crotch to feel his penis through the soft material of the night-shirt. Gently, she started touching, squeezing and rubbing him. He let out a soft cry as she did so.

"That's nice, isn't it?"

Jessie smiled and nodded and he leaned his head to the side as Martha started to kiss his neck.

"You're so little and so pretty, but you have me so worked up."

"I'm not pretty. I'm a guy. I'm not even a handsome guy. Just a guy."

"No, you're beautiful. You are the most exciting thing I have ever seen. Come with me." And Martha stood and picked up Jessie as she did so. Jessie had seen many movies where one lover lifted the other and headed to the bedroom - like in Gone with the Wind, and he'd fantasizes about moments like this, but in his fantasy, he was always Rhett Butler. In reality, he was really Scarlet O'Hara.

Martha continued to kiss him as she carried him into her bedroom and laid him on her huge, California King Size bed. Jessie struggled to keep the night shirt in position as she released him and she stood to remove her robe. As she did so, Jessie realized that he was wearing the top of the pajamas Martha was wearing.

As her robe pulled back, he saw her beautiful, large breasts and fit figure. She didn't have a six pack or anything, but the muscles under her skin were evident and she carried herself with the bearing of someone who was used to being in charge.

As Martha dropped the robe to the floor she smiled at Jessie. "Jessie. That's a beautiful name, too and it fits you perfectly. So soft. So feminine. So beautiful."

Jessie couldn't help but smile, but he was feeling very odd. Very small. He liked it.

"You are a princess, Jessie. A princess." And she pulled off her pajama bottoms and climbed onto the bed and lifted the hem of his shirt up to reveal his modest, but engorged, penis. "And look at what my princess has under her dress. I like it," she said as she slipped her lips over the tip of his shaft.

Jessie couldn't believe what was happening. He'd rarely ever been with a woman and now, here he was with one of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and she was taking control of the evening in a way he never expected.

As Martha slipped Jessie's penis deeper into her mouth he arched his back and pushed further into her. Martha took hold of his narrow, little hips and lifted him further off the bed.

Just as he thought he was about to explode, she softly lowered him back to the bed and she knelt further up the bed, slipping her bent knees under his splayed legs, so that they rested on top of hers. Then she lifted his legs towards his chest and she eased herself forward until she was straddling his hips and she let his legs rest back on her chest and shoulders.

Jessie looked down past his chest to his prone legs as Martha raised her hips and lowered herself onto his member and started slowly thrusting from front to back with him trapped inside her.

Jessie didn't know a lot about sex, but he knew this was a different way to copulate. He loved the warmth and firmness of being held inside Martha, but he felt very exposed and out of control in this position.

"This is weird, isn't it?" Jessie whispered as Martha picked up speed. "I mean, shouldn't I be on top?"

"Shhh...." Martha cooed as she reached for his left nipple with her right hand and with her left, reached to remove something from her nightstand. "You just lay there and look pretty for me, beautiful."

She softly squeezed his nipple as she thrust further forward and back. Then she held up something in her free hand.

Jessie couldn't see all that well in the half-light of the bedroom, but he had a good idea what it was. "What's that?"

"That's my friend Jacko. Since my husband left, Jacko has been my only companion - until tonight. Say, 'Hi, Jacko,'" she said as a grin spread on her beautiful face.

"Hi, Jacko," he said with a bit of difficulty as Martha started to pick up speed.

"Say, 'I want you to be MY friend, too, Jacko.'"

Jessie could barely breath as he was shaking from his excitement and sheer force of Martha's thrusts. "I want you to be MY friend, too, Jacko." He huffed.

"Oh, Jacko wants to be your friend, too, beautiful." Martha smiled, then she reached down, between her legs and gently, but firmly pushed the slender, rubber phallus up into Jesse's anus.

The pain was horrible and exquisite all at the same time. Jessie was completely overwhelmed by the barrage of sensations he was feeling. Then, she turned Jacko on and the vibrations sent him into a whole new level of ecstasy.

As the toy reached his prostate, Martha could feel that Jessie was about to burst, so she tightened around his shaft as tightly as she could so, when, at last, he came with a fury, she was able to squeeze and feel the full impact of his orgasm. She didn't have an orgasm herself, but she felt a sense of power and release she'd never felt before.

As she released Jessie's penis and backed off to lower his legs back down to the bed, she grabbed a tissue from her nightstand and gently cleaned his crotch, then gently lowered his nightshirt, or his nightie, as she now thought of it, back down around his waist and thighs while Jessie continued to stare at the ceiling and panted.

Martha laid down beside him and pulled him over to lay his head on her breast. As he recovered, she petted his hair and laid it neatly down his back and shoulders.

"You know what, beautiful?"

"What, Marty?"

"I don't think you're a virgin anymore."

Jessie let out a soft laugh and looked up to smile at her. "Marty?"

"Yes, my pretty little thing?"

"Can I take that thing out of my butt?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie," Martha laughed, "I'm so sorry." And she reached down and pulled it from his rear end.

He gasped as it left him with a wonderful, hollow feeling.

"Feel better?"

"Much, thanks."

"Ok, sweetness. You just lay here and sleep while I just look at you all night."

Jessie smiled at her, then nestled into this powerful, beautiful, fragrant woman and drifted off into the best sleep of his life.

"Haha, it's not so freaky, Marty," Grace was saying as she took another sip of coffee before going back to work on Martha's hair preparing her for yet another morning of meetings. "It's called 'The Amazon Position' and lots of women, especially self confident women like you, prefer it. Some men can find it emasculating, but so what... they're getting what they want, after all. Just in a more feminine position."

"Well, I gotta tell you, Gracie, I was almost out of control, last night. I don't think I have ever been so turned on."

"Good for you, sweetie. That's how it should be. You deserve some fun and I'm sure he enjoyed it, too."

As she finished these words, Grace looked over to see a stranger walking into the kitchen. It was a small woman with very messy hair and an oversized, blue nightshirt hanging to her knees. She was walking like someone who'd had a big night in the sack.

"And this must be the little fellow, now, huh?" Grace said to Martha.

Martha turned to see Jessie waddling barefoot into the kitchen. His hair was, as his father had described it, 'a rat's nest,' and that made him all the more attractive to Martha.

"Good morning, beautiful," she said, "this is my friend, Gracie. I told you about her, remember?"

Jessie froze for a moment. Yes; he remembered Martha mentioning Grace. Yes; he remembered that she might be around in the morning, but, a couple of things rushed through his brain simultaneously:

1) Why would Martha call him "beautiful" in front of a stranger? It was fine last night, it got him excited and she seemed to get off on saying it, but it was embarrassing in front of other people.
...and...

2) He realized that he was standing in front of a total stranger, who was obviously aware of everything he and Martha had done last night, and he was only wearing Martha's light blue pajama top.

His first impulse was to run back down the hall, but what good would that do? They'd seen him already.

Instead, he glanced down to check that he had at least a little modesty - his midsection and groin were covered - then he shrugged his shoulders and smiled impishly at the two women in the kitchen.

"Umm, hi," he said. "Soooo, I'm George."

"George?" Grace replied. "I thought your name was Jessie?"

Jessie laughed. "It is. My initials are G, E, S, so everyone calls me Jessie."

"Awww, that's adorable!" Grace gushed.

"Isn't it!?" Martha joined.

Jessie was feeling more uncomfortable by the moment, but, strangely, he found his penis growing and touching the inside of the silken night shirt he was wearing. Yikes!

"All set," Grace said to Martha as she touched her hair one last time to make it perfect and, to Jessie, it sure did look perfect. She was even more gorgeous this morning than she'd been last night.

Martha's hair, which just touched her shoulders, looked lovely. It was a rich, chestnut brown with natural hints of red here and there. Grace had worked the hair so that it had just enough curl to look perfectly natural and beautiful.

Martha inspected it in a hand-held mirror, then turned and kissed Grace on the cheek. "Thanks, Grace. It looks great."

Then she turned to Jessie and said, "I need to get to work, Jessie. This is my cell number," she scribbled a number onto a slip of paper on the counter. "Call me if you need anything. What's your number? I'll call you when I hear about your car from Jim."

"Actually," Jessie's body language showed he was embarrassed, "my phone was shut off a couple of weeks ago."

"Ok." Martha gave him an understanding smile. "I'll call the house phone. If you see my number pop up, just answer it."

"Ok. Thanks," Jessie smiled.

"For now," Martha pet his cheek as she smiled and spoke, "why don't you have Grace sort out your hair and she'll make you one of her world famous omelets for breakfast sound good?"

"Sounds great! I haven't eaten this well in years!"

"Ok, princess, I'll call you asap. Bye, Grace! Love you!"

"Love you, too, Marty!" Grace called as she smiled at Jessie and indicated the empty chair in front of her. "Next?"

Jessie shrugged, smoothed the oversized shirt under his rear end and sat in the proffered chair. Grace picked up a brush and tried to run it through his hair, but - no luck. "Listen, sweet cheeks," she teased, "I think we need to start with a shampoo, some conditioner and I'll use a detangler on your hair. Come on, put your head in the sink for me."

As she brought the water to the appropriate temperature, Grace asked, "How often do you condition your hair, honey?"

He shrugged and told the truth, "I never used conditioner before last night."

"Well, that needs to change. If you're going to have long hair around here, you're going to have to have PRETTY long hair. Your split ends are horrifying and your hair needs to be cleaned and conditioned in order to have shine and body." She shook the water from her testinghand and said, "Alright, that feels good. Take off your night shirt and stick put your head into the sink."

Jessie hesitated.

"Come on, honey, take off your shirt. The water is nice and warm."

"Ummm," he stalled, "it's not that. It's just... well... you see, I don't have on any underwear. Just this shirt."

Grace laughed and smiled at him, "Oh, I see. Your shy! How cute!"

"Well..." Jessie could see she was teasing, but he wasn't about to get naked in front of this woman just so she could was his hair.

"Run into the bathroom over there and grab a towel from the cabinet. There's plenty."

Jessie scampered into the lavatory and a moment later, reemerged with a large, white, pool towel, trying to secure it to his waist while tripping over the bottom of it as he walked.

Grace's laughter was sincere as she indicated that she would help him with the towel. "I see that you grabbed the biggest towel you could, huh? Come here, big guy, and I'll help you with that."

He shuffled over to her. She turned him away from her, put her arms around him and took the top edge of the towel in her hand. "Lift your night shirt for my, honey." He did and she drew the towel up to his armpits, wrapped it around him two times and tucked the the top edge in tightly, securing the towel like a dress that reached to just below his knees. "That should hold you. Now, put your head over the sink."

The shampooing felt glorious with Grace digging into his scalp with her nails and then with a wide comb. While the conditioner worked, they sat and chatted about their lives, then the same for the detangler.

After the final rinse, Jessie sat in the chair, still in his towel dress, while Grace combed out his mop of hair.

"Alright, honey, now, I'm just going to trim off the split ends for you. Your hair will be much healthier looking without those, Ok? It won't take more than a half-an-inch, so don't panic, ok?"

"Ok." Jessie had not had a barber near his hair for several years, so this was a treat for him. He did like his hair longer than most men wore it and he had considered getting it cut a bit shorter, but he didn't want to do something drastic just this moment. He'd think about what he'd like it to look like and then visit a barber shop when he had some cash to spare.

"There we go. Much better, now," Grace spoke with a professional air while working on his hair. He imagined that she must do this ten times a day, or more, at her workplace.

"Do you have your own salon?" Jessie was genuinely curious. Maybe, if he ever got to work at this casino again, he could have Grace style his hair nicely for him.

"I did, but my ex-husband gambled it away on me. Now, I do private clients in their homes. Mostly well off women, like Marty, and a few men. It's a bit of a pain to have to travel to their homes, but I am very well paid for it, so I guess it all pans out."

"Wow! I didn't know that people called hair stylists to their homes. That could have been handy when I had to stay home to take care of my dad."

Grace giggled. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she was pretty sure that he could not have afforded her services.

She grabbed a blow dryer from her wheeled tool box that sat by the counter and began to blow his hair out. After a moment or so, she stopped and brushed some more.

"You know, Jessie, you have very lovely hair. It's very full for a man and, if you took care of it, it could be very startling. Can I give it a little shape for you?"

"What do you mean by 'shaping' it?" No one had ever talked to Jessie about hair before except his dad who used to take him to the barbers when he was little. Once his dad got sick, the only talk about his hair was the teasing about it being a 'rat's nest.'

"I mean that I can layer it a little around your face and around the edges. It will give your hair more body and shape. It will make it look more mature."

"Well, if it makes me look more mature, then I'm sold!" Jessie laughed. He knew that his height and his apple-shaped face would always make him look younger, but anything that might help him look more his age was worth a try.

Grace snipped and clipped and used the blow dryer, then snipped and clipped some more. Then she grabbed a curling iron and plugged it in.

"What's that for?" Jessie was a bit concerned at this point. There was no mirror nearby and Grace had already brushed and combed and cut for some time.

"Relax, beautiful," Grace giggled. "Your hair is a little 'fly-away' right now because I used the drier a lot. This is just to smooth it all out, again. I'm not going to make you look like Taylor Swift - although... that could be cute for you."

"Yeah, very funny." Jessie understood how amusing it was for others to make fun of him because he was small, it had gone on his whole life and he just took it in stride, but... "You wouldn't really do that, would you?"

"Relax, Jessie," Grace laughed. "You'll love your hair. I promise."

The iron singed his hair and after one more combing and a little more hairspray than he would have expected, Grace announce that he was done and sent him to the hallway to look in the mirror. "I'm afraid we'll have to forego the omelet, today, sweetie. I have a client in twenty minutes, so I have to fly." It was at this moment that Jessie realized that Grace had been working on him for nearly an hour and a half.

The phone rang as he reached the doorway. He turned to answer it, but Grace waved him towards the mirror with an, "I'll get it."

When he looked in the mirror, his reflection was a stranger to him. The layers that Grace had cut into his hair made it much fuller, but it outlined his face in a shockingly attractive way. Shockingly because he had never thought of himself as particularly attractive and because he found himself attractive in a particularly feminine way. His hair looked a lot like Jennifer Aniston's looked in recent years since she'd started wearing it longer. Casual, but neat and definitely female.

He was about to call to Grace to see if she could make it look a little more manly, when she held up the phone saying, "Jessie! Marty needs to talk to you."

His car! He forgot about everything else as he hurried to take the phone,

Before Grace handed it over she covered the microphone and said, "You love your hair, right? I was going for something like Chris Hemsworth from Thor meets Steve Perry from Journey. Now, I have to run, but promise me not to put an elastic in that until Marty sees it. She's going to love it. Bye-bye," and she ran out the door leaving Jessie staring and holding the phone.

"Jessie! Jessie" the thin sound of Martha's voice coming from the wireless receiver roused him from his thoughts.

He brought the handset to his ear and said, "Sorry, Marty! Did you hear from your cousin about my car?"

"I did, Jessie, and I'm afraid it's not good news. Jimmy says that your engine block is cracked and you'll never make it to Florida in that car."

Jessie sighed. "Well, that sucks."

"I know, honey. I'm so sorry."

"I guess I'm taking a Greyhound Bus to Florida, then..."

"A Greyhound!?" Martha was genuinely appalled at the idea. "You can't do that. They're disgusting, smelly and dangerous."

"What choice do I have, Marty? I need to work."

"But, Jessie," Marty had given this some thought already, "you said that this was an audition - not a job, right?"

"Yes.."

"Who are you auditioning for?"

"A cruise line. They hire piano players to accompany cabarets and shows on the ships. The money's ok."

"Listen, Jessie, can you just wait until I get home? Maybe we can think of a solution, but I need to get back to work, ok?"

What choice did he really have? "Ok, Marty, but do you think you could grab my duffle bag on the way home? It's in my car and I don't have any clothes to wear."

"Sure, Jessie." Then as an afterthought, "If you go into the closet in the hot-tube/pool room, there is a lot of exercise clothing in different sizes. You could probably find a pair of gym shorts and a tee shirt in there. I'll try to come home early - maybe around 4:30 or 5:00 - so we can talk. Ok?"

"Ok, Marty. Thank you! I'll see you tonight."

When Martha got home, she immediately smelled food cooking. That was a rare event since her divorce - what's the point of cooking good food for one person?

"Jessie!?" Marty called into the kitchen. "I brought your duffle bag home."

"Thank you!" Jessie called out. "I'm kind of elbow deep in this right now, but I'll grab it soon."

Martha dropped the bag by the front door and headed into the kitchen to see what was going on. When she got there, she almost didn't recognize her little houseguest. Grace had done much more work on him than she'd expected and his hair looked great, if a bit feminine, but what got her really excited was that he was wearing a pair of women's, blue, yoga pants and a little yellow racer-backed, sleeveless tank top and yellow flip-flops - all of which belonged to her niece, Rebecca, who occasionally used the pool area for workouts when she visited. On top the yoga pants, he was sporting a pretty little yellow half-apron that tied in a bow around his waist. It was decorated with little blue and red birds embroidered into it. The apron was handmade and had been a bridal-shower present, along with a box full of kitchen gadgets, from her cousins. She'd only worn it once. It looked very small on her and her ex-husband made fun of it. He said it made her look like a giantess. She'd laughed the remark off, but the apron had never been taken out the drawer again - until now. It was an expression of femininity that Martha had never seemed able to display.

"Hi," Jessie's grin was wide and bright. "I made dinner!"

His hands were covered in grease, as he was carving an oven-stuffer chicken.

"I made chicken with stuffing, potatoes, corn, peas, some salad and brownies for dessert. I hope you don't mind."

Martha was shocked. "Mind!? Are you kidding? It smells great! Where did you get all this food?"

"From your freezer and cabinets. I hope that brownies are ok. I can make nicer desserts, but I could only really find brownie mix to make."

As Jessie bent to pull the brownies from the oven, Marty gazed at his rear end. 'Jeez, Becky never looked that good in those yoga pants!' When he stood he shook his head to shake his hair away from his face. "I love your hair, Jessie! Grace did a wonderful job on it. Do you like it?"

"I guess," he smiled. "I mean, she did a great job and all, it just looks a lot more girly than I expected. What do you think?"

Martha laughed. "Well, I love it and to tell you the God's honest truth, when I first saw you at the bank, yesterday, I thought that you were a woman. So, this hairdo doesn't look any more girly to me than what your had before."

"Really!?" Jessie was surprised. "You called me 'sir' when you offered to cash my check."

Martha came around the counter and played with his hair for a moment. God, he was so cute. "I realized that you were a guy because the teller called you 'sir' first. Up until then, I thought you were a woman - a girl, really." She played with his hair some more. "I think this is really pretty. I like it."

Unused to be complimented on his appearance, Jessie smiled. "Thanks."

"As a matter of fact, I kind of like this whole outfit on you. You're turning into a real-life beauty-queen. I like it."

She leaned down and kissed him passionately, forcing her tongue past his lips and into mouth and throat. Jessie submitted and leaned his head back as far as Martha's aggression demanded.

When the kiss broke, Jessie smiled up at the beautiful woman who had taken him into her home. He was developing very strong feelings for her, but he could not describe what those feelings were. He just knew that he wanted to please her.

"If this food didn't smell so good." Martha winked at her little boytoy. "I'd sweep you off your feet and ravage you right here and right now."

"I'd like that," he giggled, "but your dinner would get cold. Why don't you go hang up your suit and get comfortable while I open a bottle of wine and put dinner on the table for you."

Martha grinned and kissed him, again. "Yes, dear." They laughed.

As she walked away, Martha teasingly lamented, "You housewives are all the same! 'Hang up your clothes!' 'Eat a good meal!' Lord, it's enough to drive a man crazy."

Jessie laughed along with her, but then, he looked at the scene in which he found himself. Cute hairdo. Cute little outfit. Pretty little apron. Making dinner for the confident business owner who had come to his rescue like a knight in shining armor. He did kind of feel like a housewife at the moment and, what was really weird was that he liked it. For the first time since his dad had died, he was being productive and taking care of somebody. He liked that. It gave him a feeling of satisfaction like nothing else did. He loved playing music, but, even more, he loved taking care of a home and he was only just realizing how much he missed it. Suddenly, he missed his mom. He missed his dad. He missed being a part of a family and he knew that, when he left for Florida, he would miss being here, too.

He wiped his hands on a paper towel and dabbed away a few tears that had formed. Then, he started moving the well plated meal to the table, determined to enjoy his time with Marty for as long as it lasted.

The table looked beautiful when Martha returned and sat down, eager to dig in. Jessie brought her a glass of white wine as he brought the platter of meat to the table, sat opposite Martha and took a sip of his wine, too. "Yummm. That's good."

"I should hope it is." Martha put down her glass and prepared to eat her salad. "It costs nearly $300 a bottle."

Jessie nearly spit out the wine he'd just sipped. "$300!?!? Oh, my God, I'm so sorry! I should have asked first! I just assumed..."

Martha laughed from her belly at his reaction. "Relax, honey, relax. If I didn't mean for it to be consumed, I wouldn't buy it. Enjoy it."

Jessie placed his glass on the table as if it was a priceless work of art. "It is good, but, I'm sorry, anyway. I just wanted our last dinner together to be a good one."

Martha put down her fork, took her napkin from her lap and wiped her lips before speaking. "Now that you bring that up, why does this have to be our last meal together? Why can't you stay a while longer?"

This caught Jessie by surprise. He wiped his mouth and crossed his legs at the knees, sat up straighter and put his hands in his lap. "Well... first, of course, there is the audition in Florida and, then, I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome..."

Martha leaned forward, her elbows on the table. "Ok - well, you have not overstayed your welcome, in fact, I'd really like you to stay, and... can I ask you a couple of questions about the audition?"

"Sure."

"Ok. Is this a one time audition, or are there other opportunities to audition for the cruise lines?"

"No. It's not a one time audition. They hold auditions every couple of months."

She liked that answer.

"Now," she continued with caution, "what if I could get you in contact with some people around here to get some work, would that help you out?"

He considered this for a moment, nodded and said, "Well, yes, that would help, but the thing about a ship is that they give you a place to stay and..."

"You could stay here," Martha said a bit too quickly. "I mean... that's kind of the point of me asking that question."

Jessie's heartbeat a little faster. "You mean, you WANT me to stay with you? Usually, people see me as a burden, so I try to get out of their hair as quickly as I can."

Martha's heart melted. She was really attracted to this person and to see this kind of insecurity in someone that you had feeling for was horrible.

"Jessie," she measured her words as she spoke, "I know that it has only been one night, but I REALLY, REALLY like you. I don't know if it will go further than that or not, but let's give it some time and see what happens. Why don't we try things for, say, a month and see how it goes. If things go well, then we'll see what we want to do from there. If things go poorly, then, I promise, I will help get you to Florida for an audition. What do you say?"

"Gee, Marty, that's a tough choice. I mean, on one hand, I could take a chance and go to Florida, maybe get a job that allows me to play piano in a showroom where people are more concerned about their prime rib dinner than the music AND, if I'm lucky enough to get the job, I'd get to sleep in a cramped cabin below the waterline -OR- on the other hand, I can stay in this palatial home of yours and spend time with you - the first person I have ever felt this way about. I think I'll need to think about this for about three nano-seconds."

"So you'll stay?"

"If you'll have me."

"Oh, Jessie, that's wonderful!" Then she held up her wineglass. "A toast!"

Jessie held up his glass, too. "A toast? To what?"

"To us! Let's see where this adventure takes us!"

They clinked their glasses and sipped the expensive wine.
 
 
To Be Continued...