At a Price
Copyright© 2016 by Kris Me
Chapter 2: Hello
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2: Hello - Martian was sent to negotiate the mining rights on Mary's Cattle Property. He didn't enjoy doing old ladies out of their property, as it always came at a price. The last thing he expected was to fall in love with a woman three times his age. However, Mary wasn't your typical old lady next door.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Magic Heterosexual Fiction High Fantasy Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Slow
“Hi, I’m Martin Connors, and I’ve come to see Ms Mary May,” he said politely to the boobs.
The woman looked him up and down, and he watched the small half-smile lifting her smooth right cheek that then dimpled. She was checking him out he realised. His estimation of her age being mid-twenties held. He also decided the tits were positively real, and from his new vantage point above her, they were damn delectable.
He felt himself stir, as Mary was a ripping hot babe. Her trim frame held no excess fat on it, her muscles were toned, and her tanned, beige toned skin was smooth and unblemished as far as he could see. Her bikini top didn’t hide much, and the low-slung sarong exposed her tight stomach muscles and tiny waist.
“Why?” she asked, bringing his wandering eyes back to her face.
“I’ve been set by Vested Mining Corporation to discuss the mining rights on her property,” he told the woman. He saw no reason to beat around the bush or the why, of him being here.
“Talk to the lawyers,” she said and raising her moisture beaded glass, she took a swallow at her drink. Marty watched in fascination as several drops of moisture rolled off the glass. They landed between her breasts and stayed there. The thought of licking them off for her sent a wave of desire straight to his groin.
Mentally shaking himself, he said, “We have tried that road, but my bosses have asked me to come and talk to her personally to find out what the problems are. They believe their offer is very generous.”
She snorted a laugh and then grinned at him. “So, they send a boy, a third of my age, to get me to give up my property,” she said with a sneer. She was getting fed up with the company’s persistence. They couldn’t take ‘no’ as an answer.
Marty bristled at being called a boy. Then the second half of her statement rattled around in his head. He looked at her with confusion. “Your property? I wasn’t aware that Mary had passed on,” he said, wondering whom Mary had left her property to and when she had died. This fact would seriously affect the negotiations.
“Sweetcheeks, as hard as it may seem, you are talking to the one and only Mary Anne May that has ever lived here. I’ve lived here all eighty-one years of my life except when I went to college and when I go on holidays, sonny-boy,” she told him with an arched eyebrow and a condescending tone.
She had no idea why she felt compelled to tell him the truth even knowing that as she did, he would have a hard time believing her. She watched his response to her statement. Predictably, he shook his head in denial.
‘There’s absolutely no way she is that old,’ he thought. His mind refused to accept this statement. He sat down, uninvited in the chair on the other side of her small table. He was tired, it had been a long, frustrating day and it wasn’t getting any better.
“Look, I know Ms May doesn’t want to sell us the rights but what is with the charade? Who are you?” he asked. ‘I don’t need this shit’ he thought. He knew that his negations were not going to proceed smoothly, not that he had expected them to, but this was a bit much.
Mary sighed, turned the rocker off and lowered the footrest. She got up and walked inside. The screen door slammed behind her, as it always did. Marty was left wondered if he should go after the woman. He heard her moving around inside. A fridge door sucked closed, and then he heard her heading back to the door.
She flicked the screen door open far enough to walk through without it touching her, it then slammed behind her and rattled to a stop. She handed him a beer in a soft cooler with the logo ‘Coral Cove’ scrawled across it. She sat back in the rocker and made herself comfortable again.
As she filled her glass from the container she had, he screwed the cap off his beer and took a large swig. The odour of rum and cola had wafted to his nostrils when she poured her drink. He wondered how much she had drunk before he got here.
One of the company’s problems was that Mary was reported as being a self-funded retiree. He had discovered that she didn’t need their money. She still paid more in taxes than he currently earned, and he was paid very well. He honestly didn’t believe he had a hope of this woman selling even if she had just inherited.
He decided on a different approach and sat back in the chair. “Thanks, I appreciate the drink. So please tell me, how a woman who is over eighty years old looks as young as twenty-five?” he asked sceptically.
Mary shrugged, she took a sip from her fresh drink and then said, “I don’t age the same as most people. Since I turned about eighteen, I’ve aged about one normal human year to about every fifteen years I’ve lived.”
She rolled the gold band on the middle finger of her right hand and looked at it. She then held the handout to Marty, as she mentally told the ring to appear.
