In The Kitchen With Martha Stewart [celeb, MF, cons]

Date: 4/19/99


Working on the set of Martha Stewart living had
been an absolute joy. My college counselor had arraign-
ed an internship for me on the television show, an
internship that quickly turned into full-time employ-
ment. I started off as a gopher, running to fetch
things, moving boxes, answering phones--whatever needed
to be done.

At first, it was frustrating, this wasn't what I
had expected when I took the internship, my major was
broadcasting and I was hoping to shadow one of the pro-
ducers or the director to get an idea of how the
industry operated.

I remember very clearly the first time I
actually got to talk to Martha. I was wiping down the
counters and straightening things up as I did every
morning on the set, I always got there at least an
hour ahead of everyone else to prepare the kitchen
area. For a decidedly small crew (the set is actually
located in Martha's residence, so we have to have a
small footprint as it were), we certainly managed to
make a hell of a mess.

I had just finished cleaning everything up when
it occured to me that I hadn't checked the ovens, I
opened the top oven and it was perfect. The bottom
oven, however, appeared to be caked over with a
soufflet or some sort of dish that had run over.

I sighed deeply and grabbed my cleaning bucket
to get to work. I carefully removed the shelves and
got to work scrubbing down the insides. I made quick
work of it, replaced the shelving and closed the oven
up. I swept up the little bits of burnt food that had
fallen out of the oven during the cleaning and put
away my supplies.

As I passed a mirror in the side hall I noticed
my button-down white shirt had about a half-inch wide
black smear running across it from when I leaned into
the oven. I had no idea what to do, it was a good 30
minute drive to where I was staying and I didn't have
a change of clothes with me.

I resigned myself to going back home and trying
to hurry back before everyone arrived. I had to change
the shirt no matter what, I'd been warned that Martha's
temper was legendary, and even though I had yet to see
an outburst on the set I certianly didn't want to tempt
fate.

I turned around to find my keys and almost
slammed right into Martha. I jumped about as high as
I ever have, my heart pounding. "Oh, Mrs. Stewart!
I--that is I was already leaving to get..." My voice
trailed off as I noticed her eyes fixated on the black
smear on the front of my shirt.

"Mrs. Stewart, I'm sorry, it happened when I
was cleaning the oven, I was going to take care of it
right away. I'll just hurry up and go."

"That's Ms. Stewart and what were you doing
cleaning my oven?" She stared at me intently, I was
afraid to answer, my throat dry. She was dressed in a
set of blue silk pajamas with a matching light robe
wrapped around her.

"Well, Aaron told me I had to come in and clean
things up in the morning," offering the orders of the
stage-manager as my explination.

"Well, that's supposed to be Aaron's job--not
yours. You've been here for awhile, what is your job
anyway?"

I smiled weakly, "Well, I'm an intern Mrs--I
mean Ms. Stewart, I guess I'm just supposed to do
whatever they tell me to do."

She took a moment to study me, looking me over
critically. "Well, we'll have to do something about
that shirt, I think I have something that might do.
I'm sorry," she smiled softly at me, "What is your
name?"

"My name is Dante, it's very exctiing to be
working on your show Mrs--I mean, Ms. Stewart."

She laughed quietly, a suprisingly easy and
somewhat musical laugh. "Why don't we just stick to
Martha, that might be a bit easier."

She led me upstairs into her private quarters,
down a lavishly decorated hallway to what seemed to be
a guest room. She walked to the closet and opened it,
looking through various garments. She retrieved a
shirt in a dry cleaning bag and brought it over to me.

"Here you go, you look like you're about my ex-
husband's size. I still have some things of his here
from the last time he visited." She handed me the
shirt and stepped back, waiting.

"Well, go ahead and change, you can give me
your shirt I'll take care of it."

"Oh, no Martha, I can't expect you to--"

"I said that I'll take care of it," she said in
a stern but not unfriendly tone. I smiled weakly and
unbuttoned the shrit, pulling it off. I felt strangely
exposed, the scene was almost surreal.

It's not that I'm not an unattratctive person.
I stand roughly 6'2 with very short blonde hair and
blue eyes, and I certanly do my share of working out...
It's just that standing bare chested in front of
Martha Stewart is a somewhat strange situation.

I handed her my dirty shirt which she quickly
folded, then returning her gaze to me. She waited
until I had finished putting the clean shirt, which
was a little too big but was certainly serviceable,
and nodded.

"Okay Dante, you can go back downstairs, every-
one should be getting here soon--oh, and make certain
to have Aaron come up and talk to me when he get's
here."

With that she walked out of the room, brushing
lightly against my arm as she walked past. She smelled
unbelievably clean with just a hint of a floral scent.
I breathed deeply and tried to slow down my beating
heart.

-

The rest of that day was fabulous, I was reas-
signed as the assistant to the producer and spent the
day observing some of the technical aspects of the
show, it was a big change from the back-breaking work
Aaron had me doing early on. In fact, I began to
wonder if I'd ever have to do any physical work again.

Those fears were quickly laid to rest when Aaron
informed me that I'd have to stay late to clean up --
but that it would be the last time, they'd be bringing
on a paid employee to take care of it from now on.

Aaron was the last to leave, and Martha had
already retired to her private quarters. I cleaned up
the kitchen quickly, wanting to get home and relax as
quickly as possible. I was just finishing up when
Martha walked in.

She was wearing a very business like dress that
buttoned up the side, it was very flattering and I
couldn't help looking her over just a little. The red
dress really looked fabulous on her, and the black
hose certainly helped. I smiled nervously at her and
waited for her to say something.

She walked up to me and stared at my shirt,
"Now you've dirtied this one, it's a good thing that
you won't be doing this sort of work anymore, right?"
She handed me my shirt, it was washed, pressed and
smelled wonderful. I quickly shed the borrowed shirt
and put mine on, it felt warm and comfortable like it
had just been washed. I buttoned it up from the bottom
but found the second button down to be missing.

Martha stared critically at the missing button,
"Damn it, I'm sorry, hold on I have a sewing kit over
here."

She walked over to a nearby drawer and produced
a thread, needle and a button that looked suprisingly
like the other one's on my shirt. I reached to unbut-
ton the shirt but she put her hand on mine, "Don't
bother, just leave it on, this will only take a
moment."

She ran the thread through the needle and got
ready to sew, I looked away, uncomfortable with the
closeness between us. She jabbed me slightly with the
needle, causing me to quickly inhale air through my
teeth, she appologized and slipped her hand under the
edge of the shirt to keep from poking me again.

She held the edge of my shirt against the palm
of her hand, leaving her fingers dangerously close to
my nipple.

I tried to put my thoughts elsewhere, until she
brushed my nipple lightly with her fingers. I inhaled
quietly again, hoping she hadn't noticed my reaction.
As she sewed she started unconciously rubbing my nipple
just a little bit with her fingers, making it hard. I
swallowed and stole a glance at her and found her
staring right at me.

Our eyes locked, I found myself transfixed. She
smiled mischeviously and twisted her hand in my shirt
so she caught my nipple between her thumb and fore-
finger. She tweaked it lightly and smiled even wider
at me.

I felt numb and excited, and my right hand
dropped down to her hip unconciously, she looked down
at it questioningly, sending terror through me. She
placed her other hand on mine and stared directly at
me, almost challengingly.

Then she brought my hand up and placed it on
her breast. I massaged it gently through the material,
still staring at her dumbfounded. She grabbed me and
pulled me close, sweepign me into a kiss. Her tongue
parted my lips and I found myself in one of the deepest
kisses I'd ever experienced, she tasted wonderful.

As we kissed, she reached under my arms to
unbutton my shirt, violently pulling it off of my body,
we embraced again her hands exploring my chest in the
close space between us as we kissed. She frantically
pulled at my blet buckle, allowing my pants to drop to
the floor.

I stepped out of them, kicking my shoes and
socks off with them. She lightly tugged at my boxer
shorts, sending them tumbling to the ground as well.
She stepped back from me, staring at me hungrily. Her
look of hunger faded into a smile, "This is hardly
fair, you seem to be completely undressed and I could
walk into a business meeting looking like this. Oh
well," she reached to her side and quickly unbuttoned
the buttons on the side of her dress, tossing it aside.

She stood before me almost completely nude, only
wearing a pair of black hose, red pumps and a matching
black bra. I could see fairly well through the hose
and could tell she wasn't wearing any panties, evident-
ly this wasn't a spontaneous maneuver.

Her body was more firm than I expected, and her
breasts weren't very large but looked absolutely
delectable. She removed her bra and tossed it aside
as she stepped forward, crashing into my body yet
again. My erection was pressed between us as we
kissed, and I found myself moving slightly from right
to left, rubbing it in between us. I reached back for
her ass, squeezing it before reaching under her to pull
her up onto me.

As I pulled she jumped, wrapping her legs around
my midsection, my cock trapped underneath her. As she
moved slightly, adjusting her position to hold on bet-
ter the friction on my cock was wonderful, making me
even more excited. I lead her over to the counter and
layed her down, reaching forward to cup her beautiful
breasts.

I buried my face into her hose covered crotch,
breathing in her scent and mouthing her sex through
the material. She gasped loudly, "no one has ever done
...hurry, do it..do it.." I grabbed the material
covering her crotch and ripped it, tearing a large
opening over her crotch and diving in.

I licked all over her pussy before turning my
attention to her clit. I used two finger to expose it
and began to suck and lick it, bringing ragged breath-
ing from Martha. I inserted a finger gently into her
pussy and pumped it while I kept licking. Her breath-
ing quickened and she tensed, lifting her pelvis off
the counter, "oooh...my...UNGH!" she cried, flooding
my face with her cum.

I stood up, smiling looking down at her, her
hair matted with sweat, delicious nipples hard, hose
torn asunder and dripping all over the counter. I
smiled broadly, "Now was that a 'good thing'", I joked
in reference to one of her show segments. She laughed
that same sweet, musical laugh her breasts bobbing
delightfully as she did.

"It certainly was," she admitted glancing up at
me before fixating her attention on my cock, "Mmm, but
that looks even better."

I smiled back, enjoying the irony of having such
a lewd experience with little miss homemaker and de-
cided to exploit it for what it was worth. "Oh, what
looks even better, Martha?"

She frowned at me slightly, getting the gist of
the game. I wasn't sure how she would respond to my
attempt at trying to control her, getting her to talk
dirty. Instead of responding, she took control. She
spread her legs wide, reaching down with her hand to
spread her pussy lips apart.

"No games, boy. I suggest you fuck me now, and
it better be good."

I emitted a growl from deep within my throat and
leaned forward, plunging my cock into her.

"Ooooooh, oh oh oh oh oh!" she cried as I slid
it in. She locked her legs around my waist tightly,
pulsing her internal muscles around my cock. "Make this
memorable, and maybe I'll think of something nice to
do for you.

I smiled and pulled back before ramming my cock
forward into her. I grabbed her waist with my hands,
helping to control her on the slick surface of the
counter, soon I was moving her back and forth with my
hands as I thrust, building up to a wonderful pace.

"Ooooooooh...fu-fu-ck...oooh, god...hurry
hard...please...oh..ungh..ungh" she mumbled inco-
herently as I slammed my cock into her. I could feel
her muscles tense and flex as I hammered into her,
our speed increasing from the lubrication she was
creating on the counter. I couldn't believe how much
juice sloshed out of her pussy, it was amazing to
think of something this nasty and erotic happening
with such a wholesome woman.

I looked down at her, her eyes closed tightly
as she grunted with each thrust, and I realized how
amazingly beautiful she actually was like this, her
hair soaked with sweat, her body flushed from the
attention, I couldn't believe I was doing something
so--dirty to Martha Stewart.

The thought was too much, it pushed me far over
the edge. "Oh, Marth..Ma...FUCK!" I cried as I spent
load after load into her, I felt like the world was
spinning as I came into her for what seemed like
forever. I collapsed ontop of her panting.

She kissed me lightly on top of the head,
stroking my hair.

"Now -that- was a good thing, Dante," she
offered, chuckling quietly. "But we've made a mess,
and I really don't like messes," she said as she
shoved my head down.

I stared at the mixture of our juices pouring
out of her puckered pussy onto the counter. I started
by turning her over and licking the juices that had
smeared underneath her off of her ass.

Then I licked up everything that remained on
the counter before diving back into her pussy. This
time she seemed worn out, like she wouldn't be able
to go over the edge. I licked and fingered her
furiously, but somehow she seemed to be getting bored
with it.

I slid my pinky into her pussy, then quickly
withdrew it and hesitated for just a moment before I
slid it right into her tight, certainly virgin, ass-
hole.

She cried out a primal scream as I slid my
pinky quickly in and out of her asshole and clamped
down on her clit with my lips. She came intensly,
flooding my face and mouth with cum.

I straightened up, steadying myself with an
arm on the counter. Martha rolled over and slid off
of the counter and pulled me into a deep kiss, sucking
her own juices into her mouth.

She slipped off her torn hose, soaked with her
cum and mine, and quickly dressed as did I. She
pulled me back for one more kiss and stuffed the
dripping wet hose into my hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dante." she offered
and walked quickly through the side door into her
private quarters. I stood there for a moment, stunned,
the aroma rising from her hose filling my nostrils.
I inhaled deeply and headed for the exit, pressing her
hose to my nostrils and inhaling deeply...

END