We talked casually about movies we wanted to see. We were going to a local place we liked called Crabby Jacks the next night to listen to live music and talked about the band. I was lazily tracing circles over his pectorals.
“You need to call her. You should see where it goes.” I’d been rubbing the inside of his leg with my un-casted foot. “I think if you love her as much as I know you do, it can’t hurt to try.” One arm rested casually behind his head and I never saw him coming.
He pinned me before I could react, “I think I need more practice.” He began kissing me roughly, “I think you need to stop talking or I’ll have to put my dick in your mouth.”
He bit me between my shoulder and neck. There was pain it wasn’t too bad and sent chills over my body. “Sarah, you’re a confidence booster.” He took my breast roughly in his palms and kneaded it before moving in to suck it painfully. “I don’t want to make love. I want to fuck you again. Right now. Tell me you want me to fuck you, Sarah.”
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” And I pulled his mouth down for another kiss edged with teeth.
He pulled my leg up to rest on his shoulder and pounded his dick in and out of me until I thought I would pass out. He talked so dirty I couldn’t believe he was just learning. Apparently, porn watched in secret was paying off.
“Like that hard dick in your pussy, baby? Want Jake to fuck you harder? I know you do, you like it hard…the harder I fuck that pretty pussy the better. Oh yeah…you’re loving it. Tell me how much you love it.”
“I do love it, Jake. Don’t stop…you feel so good.” My entire body clenched hard as I exploded.
He pumped into me a few more times as he watched me take my pleasure. When he was about to come, he pulled out, slipped the condom off, pulled me roughly up, and brought my mouth to his dick. It was something I’d taught him and as he stroked the last drops from his still-hard cock, he groaned, “Take it all, baby, swallow it.”
I’d never been so proud.
I think I was good for him at that stage in his life. I ended up dating him another week or so and he was a fast learner. It got to the point where I was making dinner one night and suddenly he was fucking me up the ass in front of my sink, pulling my dress up and my panties down like a pro to gain access.
He moaned in my ear, “I’m going to tear your ass up” while I moaned in pure lust and braced myself so he could fuck me harder.
He never asked what I did and I never volunteered. We found a lot of pleasure in one another during our few weeks together. I knew when he was ready to approach his ex-wife and I told him he had to do it or wonder for the rest of his life if he missed his chance.
As it turned out, she’d been missing him too. They ended up talking in the doorway of their old house for over an hour before he kissed her. Once he did they both knew he was staying. They remarried a few months later and he invited me to the wedding. I went and had a blast. The bride came back from their second honeymoon pregnant.
Some things are meant to be and others aren’t. I’m cool with that.
When the soft casts came off and the doctor cleared me, I was anxious to get back to work.
Chapter Eight – Reality Check
August 1999
Living the kind of surreal life I was living, sometimes I forgot that I came from a lot of messed up people, some of whom still liked to make trouble for me. A few of whom lived in Florida. Too close.
I was given the ultimate reality check when my mother, who I hadn’t seen in more than three years, happened to catch me shopping in the grocery store I’d worked in before I left home. That was seriously bad luck since she had a flair for the dramatic. It was the only place she could have caught me since she had no idea where I lived.
I’d only met her a few years before, having been raised most of my life by her older sister who hated my mother…and me by association.
In the beginning, I had truly loved and pitied her, until I realized being abused had provided her an excuse to abuse others. There is some sick shit in my family unit. But I digress…
I had a couple of much younger brothers I’d found out about when was shipped to Florida at thirteen but they were totally forbidden to see me. I looked for ways to visit with them anyway. I often caught up with them as they walked home from school and took them for Slurpees near the house to make sure they were alright.
They weren’t. They were skipping school and their grades had declined since I moved out. I had a lot of guilt over that. Each of them had depended on me to take care of them. Pam was always too sick or depressed to make sure they were fed and clean, much less that they went to school every day or did their homework.
The day she showed up to stir shit in my life she’d been saving it up for a while. Her temper was legendary. No matter how I had tried to diffuse so many situations, she was queen of causing a scene guaranteed to make people I didn’t even know cast sympathetic glances my way. It didn’t matter where she was. She screamed, she cried, and even became physical when she got the urge.
She was the picture of what I would someday look like…if I decided to become an alcoholic, chain smoke, and stay with abusive bastards who constantly rearranged my face.
Pam was one of those women who stayed with a man no matter what. She wasn’t stupid, ugly, or without considerable artistic talent. But somehow, it always came back to needing a man to care for her. I was never going to be that woman.
That isn’t the lesbian side of my bi-sexuality talking…that is simple self-respect. A commodity that seems in short supply these days.
Needless to say, our final confrontation before I moved out saw the end of me putting up with her bullshit. When she went to throw yet another punch she ended up through a set of closet doors on her ass. That was the last time I’d seen her.
I’d crashed with my friend Carrie for a couple of weeks back then until I found an apartment; rode the bus until I saved for my motorcycle. I earned everything on my own and I was damn proud of that.
That I don’t break easily…that is what my childhood taught me.
So there stood the woman who brought me into the world bent on jeopardizing the peace of mind I worked so hard to maintain. Initially, I took it in stride. I had no reason to fear her…at least I thought so at the time. I was younger, stronger, and indignant at her nerve.
I tried to reason with her; really I did. I wanted her to calm down long enough to explain that we could discuss this later. I was even willing to visit her so we could hash out whatever she hated about me today privately.
“Visit me? Sure you will, Sarah. You come by so damn often, right? Please! You’d think you didn’t even have a mother!” She was already getting loud. She loved playing the poor mother with an ungrateful daughter card. “I haven’t seen you in three years. Last I heard from you were the legal papers I got in the mail. You ungrateful little bitch. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? Do you even care what I went through?”
“Pam, don’t do this.” I said quietly. “What is it? What did you want to talk about?” There was no avoiding the issue, no calming the situation, no behaving like an adult. She had come to fight.
That was the way it always was, always had been, between my mother and me.
She grabbed me by the front of my shirt, yanking me to her. “Don’t talk to me like I’m your child, you little bitch. What’s wrong?” She mimicked shrilly. She laughed, but it was not with amusement. “You! You are what is wrong, Sarah! You are always what is wrong! Running off acting like little-miss-high-and-mighty. You make me sick!”
She shook me hard which I’d grown out of the habit of expecting. My teeth clacked together and I bit my tongue. “Pam, take your hands off of me.” I was still calm but gradually edging toward fury. I wasn’t taking what she dished out anymore; I’d been on my own too long…safe too long.
I didn’t have to put up with that shit anymore. The longer she had her hands on me, the more my vision turned red.
“Oh,
that’s funny, Sarah. Giving orders now are you? Think you’re better than me? Well, you aren’t! You’re nothing but a little whore! Are you on drugs? Huh? Look how skinny you are! You’re probably a coke addict or something…not that it would surprise me.”
She smirked at her perceived cleverness and added, “Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been stalking your brothers. I’ve put a nice end to that let me tell you. There’s a restraining order in place now. Try to see them…I dare you.”
I became very still as her words sank in and lowered my voice even further. “Get your fucking hands off me, Pam. You don’t know me. You never did.” I would not go hand-to-hand with her…I would have killed her. I wasn’t playing out her little drama in front of people I used to work with and some I still considered friends.
Fortunately, this was one time I didn’t have to.
My old store manager approached us and he was not happy. Michael Carson told Pam to leave the premises immediately and let her know in no uncertain terms she was banned from the location permanently. She’d be arrested if she came back.
She cried and tried to seem sympathetic, telling him what kind of a horrible daughter I was and how I didn’t care if she lived or died.
He looked her in the eye and said, “I’ve known this young woman since she was fourteen. I saw the bruises from constant abuse. What you did to her. I ever see you here again and I will call the cops. You make me sick.” Michael looked like he wanted to spit on her.
She left yelling and cursing me. Her face was red and she lit a cigarette the moment she hit the exit. I watched as she stormed to her car and threw herself inside. I hadn’t realized my brothers were with her but saw them as Pam sped off.
I figured it was the last time I’d see her. I knew I had to talk to Monica about my brothers. There was no way I would let a restraining order go unanswered. I thanked Michael and left without my groceries. I was emotionally exhausted and couldn’t even remember what I’d meant to buy.
She’d caused a scene and gotten attention. I put her out of my mind. She wasn’t worth it. I should’ve realized she was more vindictive than I could ever dream of being. Another lesson learned from dealing with my family…never underestimate their capacity for evil.
Chapter Nine – The Housewife
October 1999
The first time I met Mona Dorn I was surprised she’d requested an appointment with me. She was married, had a couple of teenagers, and was president of the PTA. She was active in her church and community. She was the community chair queen when it came to fundraisers for education, charity, and local shelters.
She was very small, only a little over five feet tall. It was easy to tell she’d been a real looker when she was young and it was terrible how sad she seemed.
Mona still had a great body in her mid-forties but looked like she’d just given up. She had no clue how to dress; choosing loose outfits that made her look twenty pounds heavier. She wore her hair in styles that made her look older. Her makeup did nothing to highlight her natural beauty.
After two appointments, I asked Vivienne to arrange for our crew to totally make her over. I couldn’t stand to see an attractive woman go to waste. When Lucia was done with her hair, there was not a drab gray hair in it. The shag style took years off her appearance and the brightened up mahogany shade brought out the green of her eyes.
Decklan brought clothes suited to her petite and athletic frame. There would be no more sweat suits hiding every curve she possessed. He put her in a bra that was truly her size and a miniskirt suit with clean lines.
It turned out that she was one hot ticket under the den mother getup. The makeover did wonders for her self esteem and she started carrying herself differently almost immediately.
Decklan helped by making a huge deal of her figure, style, and natural grace. He lingered over her hand when he kissed it goodbye. I thought it was a charming touch and told him so later. Being as attractive as he was, showing her attention had done wonders. He actually blushed but wouldn’t really say anything.
Usually, when we met, it was at one of the beautiful hotels along Manalapan. I almost always wore a specific brand of cologne and a tux or a suit, complete with a silk tie and wingtip shoes. Decklan loved the days I met Mona and went out of his way to find men’s clothes that rocked my figure. My hair at the start of our sessions was pulled snugly in a chignon at the base of my neck and smoothed completely flat.
Mona had been married for twenty-three years. Her husband was a bank executive who worked about ninety hours a week and Mona figured he was fucking his assistant for about twenty of those hours. He was gorgeous, brilliant, and emotionally absent from their marriage. She was still unbelievably in love with him.
When I fucked her with a custom-made strap-on created to match her husband’s specifications, she always closed her eyes. She would come hard and be so grateful afterward that I wanted to kick her stupid husband’s ass.
Mona wanted romance and I made sure she got it in spades. I always arrived to the suite early, checking on the flowers, the candles, the strawberries and cream…all the trappings people surrounded themselves with for window dressing when there was another issue going on they wanted to avoid.
She loved listening to the Neville Brothers, Linda Ronstadt, and Foreigner while we were together. Her voice was lovely and once in a while she’d break into a song while we were in the shower. She’d been a singer in the seventies before she met her husband and he whisked her off to a life of baby-rearing and house cleaning.
The first time I joined her we rocked Cold as Ice and laughed hysterically for ten minutes.
A few weeks after her makeover, Mona asked me if she should involve her husband in one of our sessions – as she liked to call them. I let her know it could go several ways. He could be pissed that she’d been seeing me, he could consider a threesome as written permission to fuck whoever he wanted, or he could see Mona in a whole new light.
His possible reaction was a toss-up. I’d seen and heard many scenarios over the six months I’d been with Vivienne. Mona had been married to him for so long; I didn’t want the sudden kink to throw their entire marriage into turmoil if the worst happened.
“But how would you feel about it, Sarah? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” We were facing one another on our sides, having just made love as Mona liked to call it. She was playing with my hair.
She was so sweet and didn’t see the danger of adding a woman like me to her marriage bed.
“Mona, I’m bi-sexual. I like men and enjoy sex with them. What you have to ask yourself is…can you handle watching me fuck your husband? Because it will happen. You can’t think he’s going to turn down the opportunity.”
I liked Mona and wanted to be honest with her. Preferably before her husband already had his dick somewhere in my body and she flipped out. It had to be hard truth up front.
She looked at me and smiled, “You’ve brought so many new things into my life, Sarah. I’m hot all the time now and that’s so different from how I used to be.” She caressed her nipple with one hand, mine with her other.
“I love your body and what you do with it. If it wouldn’t be distasteful to you, I’d enjoy seeing how you perform. Maybe we can wake something up in my marriage that’s been sleeping way too long. I think it might bring me closer to Matt.”
And that was that. My next appointment would be a ménage.
I arrived early at the hotel and prepared everything as I usually did with a few extras. I’d been assured by Vivienne that Matt’s recent physical with his private physician had been clean and I had nothing to worry about. It was always my number one concern.
I’d opted for a French Maid outfit this time. My hair was piled on top of my head and about ten pounds of red curls fell around my face and shoulders. I was wearing four inch platform heels and the hem of my costume fell just below my panty line. Then it was all legs encased in fishnets.
Decklan had been unable to look at me when
I left the condo in a designer trenchcoat. He’d looked stressed.
I’d be serving the Dorns as if I was hired by the hotel. Maybe if the hotel was owned by Hustler. I would observe and act accordingly.
When they entered the luxury suite, Matt couldn’t keep his eyes off his wife. He was looking at her like he hadn’t seen her in years which was encouraging. He sat close to her while I served oysters and shrimp cocktail. He even fed her an oyster and licked the juice from her lips.
Don’t get me wrong, he threw plenty of appreciative attention at me…dirty boy. But he was respectful about it. And frankly, I knew what kind of picture I presented.
Beef tips were the entrée and they talked throughout. Things between them looked good and I thought maybe Mona didn’t need me after all. When I went into the suite kitchen, she followed me. I asked her if she’d rather I left and let her know I would completely understand. No hard feelings.
“Don’t leave, Sarah!” she begged. “I am so nervous, I need you here. I’ve never seen Matt so attentive, your makeover did wonders. Since then, he’s actually coming home at night. Let’s not stop now, okay?”
I hugged her and said, “Please remember, no matter what, that I’m doing this for you, not your husband. If things start to make you feel uncomfortable, just give me the word and it all stops. Do we have a deal?” She nodded and I started prepping dessert while she returned to Matt.
When I reentered the main room, I was wearing nothing but my garter belt and garters, fishnet stockings, and heels. My breasts were covered in cannoli cream and my pubic area was covered with stiff custard. Both of which were Matt’s favorites.
I’d been given a full Brazilian wax for the occasion. My pussy was bare as a baby’s ass.
I stopped in front of the table and turned for them. My ass was completely nude. When I looked at them over my shoulder, hands perched on my hips, Matt was speechless. Mona was smiling widely and looking like she wanted to clap her hands. End of the Night by Kenny G was playing softly, adding a tasteful element to the potential debauchery.
In the Service of Women Page 8