Mothers and Daughters Pt. 07

In the kitchen he cracked four eggs into a bowl and stirred them thoroughly. Then he grated some Emental cheese, chopped some French onion, and diced a thick slice of ham into small cubes. Nate pulled out his omelet pan, added some butter, and poured in the eggs. He started another coffee on the stovetop maker and put 4 slices of rye bread in the toaster.

The smell of the cooking omelet brought hunger pangs to Martha. She had sent an email to her sister saying she arrived safely in Hamburg and was staying with a friend. She explained Briana was in police custody, and that Martha was working to get her out, but nothing would happen before Monday. Martha included Nate's phone number in the email, explaining her cell phone didn't work here, and asked her sister to call this phone number only in emergencies.

Presently Martha was browsing through her Facebook page. She was very careful what she posted on Facebook – in fact she posted very little. She certainly did not mention she was in Europe, or even away from home.

Martha's stomach started growling, and so she closed the Chrome app and headed for the kitchen. Nate was just plating the omelet and toast as she arrived. "That smells so good," Martha smiled. Nate gestured her to sit down at the square table, and he sat around the corner, next to her.

"This is really good," Martha complimented after two bites of the omelet.

"Thanks," Nate replied genuinely.

"What's the spice?"

"Tabasco sauce," he nodded.

"Really?" she asked with surprise. "I normally can't take Tabasco sauce – it's too hot for me."

"This is green Tabasco sauce," he explained. "The red one is the spicy one. This one is for taste." Martha nodded as she took another bite of her omelet.

"That was a great run," Martha offered. "Do you do that every day?"

"I alternate between running the gym," Nate explained. "I can take you there tomorrow if you want," he offered.

"I'd really like that," Martha smiled. "It's really hard to stay active when you travel." She paused a moment. "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"I expect I'll hear from the lawyer first thing in the morning," Nate offered, "and then we go from there." Martha wished for a more concrete plan, but she understood that things take time, and little happens on the weekend.

"Why do you have a box full of guns in your office?" Martha changed subjects as she took a bite out of her toast

"A friend of mine died a couple of months ago," Nate explained. "Brain aneurysm. He went home smiling one day after work, and was dead before supper." Nate paused in reflection of his friend's passing. "Anyway, he left his handgun collection to me. I didn't even know he had a collection, and I can't fathom why he left them to me," he ventured. "And in case you have plans for my early retirement," Nate looked at Martha, "all the firing pins are removed – they don't work."

"What will you do with them?" she asked out of idle curiosity, ignoring Nate's failed attempt at humor.

"Don't know," Nate shrugged. "I think some of them have historical significance. I am told two of them were used by actual Nazi SS officers – a Walther P38 and a Luger." Nate thought for a moment. "I was thinking about donating them to a museum in Frederick's name. I'm not much into gun collections."

"Do you have plans today?" Martha asked.

"I am taking you shopping."

Martha drew in a deep breath. "So what are we shopping for," Martha asked, knowing the answer. Briana had told her about the hemline mark he made on her leg.

"That's up to you," Nate answered plainly. "I would hope you pick out something elegant and sexy. But you will also need something more practical."

Martha stopped eating and looked at Nate. "So, you are not going to dress me up in cheap, skimpy, teenage clothing and make me run around like a tart the whole time?"

"Well, if that's what your preference," he smiled, "then sure!" She raised her eyebrows at him with a crooked grin. "No," Nate clarified. "You pick the clothing. But I want you to pick something that makes you feel elegant, successful, sexy."

"What kind of budget do you have in mind?" she asked cautiously. "Elegant, successful, and sexy doesn't come cheap."

"I don't want to say price is no object," Nate ventured, "but let's sort that out when we get there."

"Okay Nate," Martha scolded as she put down her fork, "what's going on?" Nate shrugged, as if he didn't understand. "I know you dressed Briana up like a teenage hooker, and I know how little you paid. Now you're offering to let me pick out my dream wardrobe and you'll just smile and pay?"

"Yeah," Nate curled his lower lip outward in reflective thought, "I guess."

"What's the catch?"

"There's no catch beyond the deal we already have," Nate said. "Well," he backtracked, "okay, there are a few ... restrictions." Martha nodded knowingly waiting for the teenage hooker restrictions to come out. "Skirts and dresses only, and no bras. Other than that," Nate looked upward, searching for anything he might have missed, "it's wide open."

"So I could buy a burlap dress and a nun's habit, and you'd be okay with that?" Martha challenged.

"Well," Nate processed as he spoke, "if a burlap dress and nun's habit is your idea of elegant, successful, and sexy ... yeah," he shrugged with a sideways cocked head, "I could work with that. Come to think of it," he grinned, "a nun's habit kinda puts you back in the hooker category for some people."

"Why are you doing this for me?" she asked with deep skepticism.

"Are you serious?" he challenged her. She stared at him silently. "You come over here to save the daughter you estranged through tough love. You drop everything and fly over on borrowed money with nothing more than a hope and a prayer. You are on the brink of financial collapse, but you don't let that stop your mission to rescue Briana. And you love her so much that you spread your legs, because that's the only chance you have to get her back. Jesus, Martha!" Nate scolded her earnestly. "You're a fucking saint! Why shouldn't I help you out a little?"

All at once Martha filled with awe, skepticism, love, hate, wonder, and bewilderment. "So you ..." she stopped, her voice cracking with emotion. She started again, "Are you trying to be my slave master or my sugar daddy?"

"Why can't I be both?" he asked genuinely. She didn't have an answer beyond 'because', which she intuitively sensed was wholly inadequate.

She stared at him for a long time. "You're a very strange man," she finally said.

"So I've heard," he answered neutrally. They ate the rest of their meal in silence.

"Help me clean up," Nate asked as he picked up the plates from the table. 'Cleaning up' was a fairly straight forward task. They put everything back where it belonged, and put the dirty dishes in the sink for his cleaner to take care of. She used the toilet for good measure before a long day of shopping. When she returned, Nate was standing in the middle of the living room.

"Strip," he ordered as she landed at the bottom of the stairs. Martha wasn't aware of any transgressions, but she grew nervous as she pulled her sweater over her head.

"Did I displease you in any way," she asked as she pulled her camisole over her head, revealing her perfectly cupped tits.

"I'll let you know," was all he offered. She unzipped her skirt with mounting trepidation, and let it fall to the floor, and then stepped out of it. Finally, she bent over and removed the white socks.

"Get on your knees," he commanded. Martha lowered herself to a kneeling position. Nate stepped forward until his belt buckle was inches from her lips. "Take it out and suck me," he ordered. Obediently Martha unzipped his black pants, and then undid his belt and his waistband snap, and pulled his pants to his knees. Next she pulled his underpants down, and without hesitation drew his semi-hard cock into her mouth.

Nate felt himself stiffen inside her mouth as she began sucking earnestly, bobbing her head back and forth. She brought her right hand to assist jerking his shaft. "No," Nate corrected her. "No hands – mouth only." She dropped her hand to her side, and continued sucking hard. Nate felt himself reach full hardness, and he started gently thrusting his pelvis forward and backward, assisting Martha in her sucking motion. He knew a mouth-only blowjob would take a very long time to climax, but that wasn't the point. Nate liked the sensation of a good suck now and then. When he felt satisfied, he withdrew from her mouth.

"Stand up," he directed, and she did. He kissed her lips, and she returned with an open mouth. He caressed her naked breasts as they remained in a long kiss. Finally he pulled away. "Thank you for that," he spoke softly, and planted a gently, quick kiss on her lips. "You can get dressed now," he allowed. As she picked up her clothing, Nate stowed his package back inside his underpants, and pulled up his jeans and zipped up. In a minute they were fully dressed. She ran upstairs to get her shoes while Nate fished out a large umbrella from the laundry closet.

They walked hand-in-hand to the Baumwall station while Nate carried the umbrella in his other hand.

It was 1100 by the time they reached the high fashion shopping district in Neustadt. This was not the same neighborhood he took Briana and Pavlina. Nate said they would just look at everything first, take it all in in, and then retrace their steps in a buying spree. Martha started at Hugo Boss, a high-end brand name she recognized. Then they crossed the street to Cos, a store that specialized in more practical women's fashions, including sensible shoes. From there they walked two blocks west to Rene Lezard. Even though she wasn't paying, Martha gulped at the prices in this store. A dress she only just liked cost 1,800 Euros, or nearly $2,000. Other ones she loved were five times more expensive. Further down the road they found Karen Millen, a store specializing in high fashion leather.

That was the end of the line. At 1400 they walked to a Starbucks, only half a block north of Karen Millen for a break and to review their reconnaissance mission. Martha really liked some of the leather fashions. She brought up the 1,800 Euro dress at Rene Lezard. Nate had to admit that was beyond his budget, as much as he would have liked to buy that for her.

They finished their coffee and then returned to Karen Millen, where Martha purchased, or rather, Nate purchased for Martha, a black leather skirt and matching vest. Although Nate had not imposed a hemline restriction, he was pleased Martha selected a shorter (although by no means the shortest) skirt.

When they came out of Karen Millen, it started raining. Nate opened his umbrella and they walked close together under the canopy. They bypassed Rene Lezard altogether, as Martha considered it ridiculously expensive, even if she wasn't paying. Instead they walked to Coast, where Martha bought a pale blue short-sleeve blouse and a mid-sleeved dark grey knee-length dress with pockets. She spied a pure black tank top that she selected to wear under her black leather vest. Nate bought for her a spandex-like, white, sleeveless body top that clung to the mannequin like paint, and he hoped it would do the same for Martha.

After Nate purchased the Coast clothing, Martha went back to the change room and put on her grey dress. With the rain outside, she felt it would keep her warm. It was raining harder when they walked under the umbrella to Cos, where she bought a pair of plain black shoes, a white denim jacket, a dark red skirt, and a thin belt. They had paid, and they were about to leave, when a black jacket with faint, thin white stripes caught Martha's eye. She tried it on, and Nate had to admit it looked perfect over her grey dress, so he paid for that too. She left it on, and wore it out of the store.

The rain had let up a bit when they crossed the street to Hugo Boss. Martha bought a long, backless black dress. Nate had to admit she looked stunning in it when she tried it on. The rain picked up again when they walked down the street to a jewelry store, and Martha picked out two pairs of earrings and a silver pendant to hang around her neck.

It was nearly 1800 – an amazing shopping accomplishment in just seven hours. Nate left Martha in the jewelry store while he stepped under the umbrella and hailed a cab. The driver helped them load the parcels into the trunk. Nate took the back right seat, and invited Martha to sit beside him in the middle. They buckled in as the Mercedes pulled away. Nate turned to Martha and kissed her on her willing open mouth. She teased his tongue, and he replied by slipping his right hand between her legs and slid his outstretched fingers northward up her dress until he reached the bare skin of her pussy. Martha parted her legs slightly and moaned imperceptibly as Nate tickled his finger directly over her clitoris. If the taxi driver noticed their frisky mischief, he didn't let on.

As they pulled apart, Nate withdrew his hand from under her dress. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Do you really think I am a saint, or am I just stupid?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Definitely not stupid," Nate affirmed quickly. "Crazy maybe, but not stupid."

She smiled inwardly at the casual way he answered. "How much did you spend on me today?" she asked after a long pause.

Nate was conflicted in telling her. On one hand, he knew it would boost her ego, which was a small part of the reason he took her shopping. On the other hand, he didn't want her to think this would become a regular occurrence. "Well over a thousand Euros," he said, adding it up in his head. "Nearly two," he realized. "Seeing you in that long black dress was worth every cent." Martha smiled and kissed his cheek gently. "But that's the budget – we're done shopping," he said not so subtly.

"Works for me," she sighed with her head still on his shoulder.

By the time they arrived at the apartment building, the rain was falling lightly. Nate paid the cab driver, and together they grabbed all the bags out of the trunk and ran for the front door. Nate swiped his wallet against the sensor, and punched in the security code, and held the door open for Martha. He followed her up the stairs. Her dress did not offer a particularly erotic up-the-skirt view, nevertheless Nate realized her supple legs, while not skinny-bitch matchsticks, were firm and trim – the kind of legs any 32-year-old woman would be proud to flaunt. Once in the apartment, they dumped their parcels on the coffee table.

Nate poured out some wine, and handed a glass to Martha. "You read my mind," she smiled as she took off her jacket.

"I'll start dinner," Nate offered, "and you put on a fashion show." Nate retreated to the kitchen while Martha gathered all the new purchases and disappeared into the bathroom across from his office. He pulled two chicken breasts out of the fridge and seasoned them with his own concoction of herbs and spices. He started pouring some rice into a Pyrex bowl when Martha appeared in her first catwalk outfit. She wore the dark red skirt with the pale blue blouse and the white denim jacket. The blue/red/white ensemble looked both French-chic and comfortable. The skirt hem line rested just above her knees, offering a more mature look. Martha twirled around, showing off the outfit to Nate's approval, and then she trotted back to the bathroom for the next wardrobe change.

Nate mixed some chicken broth into the rice and pulled out a salad-in-a-bag from the fridge. He had just opened the bag when Martha returned for her next catwalk. This time she wore the black leather skirt with the white sleeveless spandex tank top and the black vest overtop. The white tank top created a layered texture above the vest, which allowed her to leave the top button of the vest undone, creating an attractively seductive cleavage appeal without actually revealing anything. Martha twirled with a smile and then skipped back to the bathroom.

Nate mixed the salad dressing in, and placed the chicken breasts on a greased baking rack, and then slid the rack into the preheated oven. He put the rice/broth mixture in the microwave oven and fired it up just in time for Martha to return in her dark grey dress, without the jacket. But this time she left the white body-tight tank top underneath the dress, and again opened a few buttons at the top of the dress, creating a plunging neckline look without being immodest. It was a very casual, well put together look.

Finished with his food preparation duties, Nate set the table. He was cutting a loaf of French bread into slices when Martha returned with the backless black dress. The dress had black lace overtop a black lining, creating a contoured fabric effect. The lace on the two vertical shoulder straps on the back of the dress had no backing, offering a see-through view of her back. The straps converged to a V three quarters down her back where the underlining took over, protecting her modesty below. The lining ended quite high on her upper thighs, but the lace continued lower, creating an eye-catching tiered effect that showed off her attractive legs.

The lace on the front of the dress was high around the neck, but the solid backing's neckline plunged to the bottom of her bust line. The lace overtop kept the underlying fabric from shifting or pulling away, creating a sensually attractive cleavage without being immodest. Nate noticed she was wearing the black shoes she bought today. "Wow!" he whistled softly. "You're a supermodel." Martha smiled brightly at his compliment.

"I'm pretty sure this is elegant, successful, and sexy," Martha beamed.

"And then some," Nate nodded assuredly. "Tomorrow I'm going to take you out in that dress," he promised.

She turned toward the bathroom, and stopped. "What should I wear for dinner tonight?"

Nate thought a moment. "The black leather skirt and the white tank top." Martha raised her eyebrows in silent judgment, and then retreated to the bathroom. Nate checked on dinner – nothing had burned to a miserable crisp yet, so things were still on track.

Martha returned wearing her black leather skirt and the sleeveless spandex tank top. The fabric was quite thin, and as Nate hoped, clung to her skin like a coat of paint. Nate could see perfectly the precise contours of breasts, including the raised profile of her nipples. "I'm actually glad you bought this," Martha said, picking up her glass of wine. "It must have silk woven into it, or something, because it feels so nice against my skin. I can wear it under anything."

"Hmmm," Nate considered. "Let's see." He walked to Martha, and cupped his right hand over the perfect shape of her left breast, and began fondling it fully. "Oh yes," he nodded with a sly smile, "I see what you mean." Martha rolled her eyes. "Do I sense attitude?" Nate asked with a sharp tone.

"Only this," she replied quickly, and reached her hand around his neck, and pulled him down as she reached up to kiss Nate lovingly on his mouth. He moved his hand to her left tit and caressed it roughly as she darted her tongue in and out of his mouth. Nate pinched her left nipple smartly through the thin fabric, eliciting a muffled squeal from Martha, but she didn't break off her kiss. He cupped his palm around the mound of her left breast again, and rubbed it heavily in circles.

Finally Nate pulled away, breaking off the kiss. "Nice save," he complimented, "but next time I won't be so forgiving," and he pinched her left nipple really hard.

"Owwww!" Her eyes welled up with pain.

"Consider that a warning," Nate offered, and looked her hard in the eyes.

Martha knew she was missing something, and then remembered. "Thank you for showing me the wickedness of my ways," she forced an uneven smile.