Maureen and Sheila’s Atlanta Adventure

Montgomeryville is what you might call a sleepy little Southern town. At least that’s what it is on the outside. Underneath the surface, well, it’s still a sleepy little Southern town.

Still, we have characters who keep things interesting. Small town politics are typical, and there’s always the group of old men who sit out on the courthouse steps whittling and spitting. There’s the group of elderly ladies at the First Methodist/First Baptist/First Presbyterian/First-take-your-pick (I don’t believe we have a Second-anything, as they all believe they are first) church who, in their infinite wisdom, believe they know everything about everyone. They probably talk about me because I am still single and a good bit older than many of the single women in this town. If it gives them something to do, that’s quite alright with me, because I figure there is no harm done. There is still a lot they don’t know because I keep things very hush-hush as regards my lovers and I do not go out clubbing or drinking or dancing. I am just a normal everyday hairdresser who does their hair on Wednesday mornings and who goes to the grocery store once a week just like they do. I stop and talk in the aisles with them and ask to see pictures of their grandbabies.

The person they probably talk more about is my friend, Maureen. Maureen works as a hairdresser, too, at Sissy’s on North Main. Sissy’s has a different clientele than Barbara’s, where I work. Barbara’s does a lot of blue hair, which is our name for the little old ladies who get the blue rinse that’s supposed to make their hair look less dingy because it’s gray or even white. I personally hope that if I start to turn all gray, no one suggests the blue rinse to me because I think it looks more false than a color job. But they like it, and they like the tight pin curls and AquaNet because they don’t do so much to their own hair anymore, and they don’t have it done up but once a week. I figure their arthritis doesn’t let them get their hands up to their head as often, and I feel a little sorry for them. Age is tough when you get past 60, and most of them are alone except for their own little group. Besides, the more friendly I can be with them, the better it is for me and the less they talk. Except they are always asking me when I’m going to get a husband. I tell them, I am still young enough to dream, and I am in no hurry. They don’t agree, of course, but it’s an answer that satisfies them at least once a week.

Maureen, on the other hand, works with a younger client base. She goes to hair shows and learns all the latest styles and keeps up with the current trends. Even in Montgomeryville, there are young girls who want some outrageous color jobs and unusual cuts, and Maureen is just the one to do it. Maureen is a good bit younger than I am, but it has never made a difference in our friendship. I guess I’m the older sister she never had.

But poor Maureen, the way they talk about her, it makes me kind of mad. Just because she has a baby and she is not married, they think she is something of a slut. If they knew about my love life, they would never let me put a bobby pin to their hair again, I’m afraid.

When Maureen was in high school, she got mixed up with Ernest Staley, a boy who was a few years older than her. I can see why she went for Ernest because he has that “bad boy image” that some girls like. He was good-looking and tough-talking, and Maureen says he told her all kinds of things that she believed. Her parents were strict and didn’t let her out much so she sneaked away to be with Ernest and wound up pregnant. They got married after her folks found out, but not long after the baby was born he wanted a divorce.

By then, Maureen had come to her senses about Ernest and realized that he was not the man she wanted to spend her life with. Her parents were madder about the divorce than they were about her pregnancy, so they actually asked her to leave their house when she and Ernest divorced. See, in a small Southern town like Montgomeryville, divorce is sometimes worse than an unplanned pregnancy.

So Maureen lived with an aunt for a while and went to cosmetology school, and eventually rented her own little trailer, though she had to live on Lipton’s Cup-of-Soup and bologna sandwiches with fake mayonnaise for a good while. She is doing better moneywise now, since her aunt turned out to be well off financially and left Maureen all her money. (My lawyer-lover Roy kind of took pity on Maureen and helped her get all the legal things in order without charging her very much, and that is how I eventually met Roy, though Maureen doesn’t know that he is my lover now.)

Anyway, Maureen is just the sweetest person you would ever want to know. Her little boy looks just like her, and thankfully not her ex-husband, good-looking as he was. It kind of pisses me off that he made Maureen name the baby Ernest James, after him and his daddy, because nobody names a baby Ernest these days. So we call him E.J., which is kind of cute.

Maureen is what you would call a natural beauty, though, and she never had any problem getting her figure back after E.J. was born. She was young, and that helped, of course, but she will always be beautiful. She has the most intense blue eyes I have ever seen, and one of those mouths that I would imagine a man cannot bear to stop kissing. And she has a grace about her, the way she moves. I swear I have never heard her walking unless she is wearing high heels on a hard floor, and even then she moves like a cat, smooth and real fluid-like.

Maureen reads a lot, and buys a lot of books from the used bookstore here in Montgomeryville. She knows a lot of impressive words, but she also knows how to use them, so that she always seems to know what she’s talking about, not like some people who know a big word but don’t make any sense of it when they use it.

Maureen is also a very sexual person, like me, which is probably why we have so much in common, but she will not date anyone from Montgomeryville. All the men here think she is easy just because she has a baby and got pregnant before she got married. I can see where she’s coming from, and I don’t blame her. I have kept little E.J. for her a few times so she could go out of town and be with a boyfriend, and that has broke me from ever wanting children of my own. That little E.J. is a sweet child and very good most times, but I do think my energy is best directed in other places than raising children. After all, children can compete with a woman following her dreams, and we all have to have dreams of some kind.

Anyway, she does meet men when she goes to Atlanta or other big cities to hair shows. Of course, a lot of those men are gay, and if that’s what their preference is, I certainly would not try to convince them otherwise. But she sometimes goes other places like nice bars or shows when she goes to a hair show, and she meets men who are not gay, and they just fall all over themselves trying to get a date with her. So Maureen is never lacking for out-of-town male companionship.

A few months ago, she convinced me to go to a hair show with her. I agreed, partly to be sure she was safe on her own, but also because it was time for me to get away from Montgomeryville for a while. If a girl doesn’t get away from home sometimes, she gets comfortable and forgets that there’s a big world full of men out there and gets too content within herself. So Sissy agreed to keep E.J., and we took off for Atlanta.

One of the reasons she wanted to go to Atlanta was to visit her new boyfriend, Chad. She had told me a little about him, and I could tell that Chad was different from the other men she had known. She said they had an amazing sexual chemistry, those were just the words she used when she rolled those huge blue eyes, and that they communicate almost on a different level, like having ESP. She told me that with Chad, everything happened so fast the first time they made love, she couldn’t believe it. It was like they knew exactly what to do for each other. I don’t mean the sex was over with fast; I mean they met one minute and the next minute they were having the fuckfest of a lifetime. And according to Maureen, it was anything but quick.

Now, I have had some lovers who did that to me, and I know exactly what Maureen is talking about. And I couldn’t be happier for her. Let me tell you, when you find someone who knows your body like a road map and travels it like an explorer, you make your pussy available as often as you can.

I guess in a lot of ways, that’s how my gynecologist-doctor-lover Colin, is. Colin has never seemed as if he was guessing at anything. Now that I think about it, Colin and I wound up in bed pretty damned fast, too. In fact, I think it was about fifteen minutes. There was a ladies’ fashion show at the country club where Colin plays golf, and I did the hair for some of the ladies who were in the show. One of them was a petite little dark-haired girl, and I mean her hair was jet black. She had the most beautiful little body and the best hair to work with. Her husband came back to bring her a glass of wine while I was doing her hair, and our eyes locked the second they met. In fact, I spritzed hair spray into my own glass of water and he laughed and went to get me another one. The fashion show went on, the ladies all gathered in their little group out in the foyer, and I was back in the dressing room with Colin’s face between my legs.

I can promise you I did not mean for that to happen the way it did, but sometimes fate just steps right in and takes over and hikes your dress up to your waist, and puts a nice hard cock to the hilt in your wet pussy. And that’s the way it happened with Colin. And, I have never been one to mess around with what fate has in store.

So on the way, Maureen and I had a long talk. We talked about Chad and if she thought he was a long-termer. She told me she had not decided yet, but there was a little curl to the edge of her mouth that I hadn’t seen for a long time. And really, Maureen should not spend the rest of her life in Montgomeryville because it has nothing to offer her.

We got to our hotel late that afternoon and I took a long, hot bath as soon as I could. Maureen took a bath when I got out, and I talked to her while she soaked in the tub. It’s funny how women don’t mind seeing each other naked. We really do not even think twice about it. And I know my body has some real battle scars but Maureen’s is just damn near perfect. It’s soft and round in all the right places.

As soon as we got ready for the evening, Maureen called Chad. He was only a few minutes from our hotel, so he came right over. Now, Chad is a hair stylist but he is definitely not gay or effeminate or any of those things. So I was really anxious to meet him. When he knocked on the door, Maureen jumped up. I have to say she looked like a million dollars. She wore a blue dress that was so dark blue it was almost black but the light caught the blueness of it, and it just about shone. And when she opened the door to let Chad in, I caught my breath. It stuck in my throat and I was worried I might need CPR, and I hoped like hell somebody knew how to do it.

Chad is one of the finest-looking men I have ever laid eyes on. His hair is dark and smooth, and it’s kind of longish but kind of shaggy, and it looks just right on him. His eyes are so dark they sparkle. His goatee is perfectly trimmed and thick. And what a body! I looked him up and down, and I swear I got weak in the knees. I don’t tremble much, but there was something about his presence that gave me those little chills that run down the spine.

I saw him take Maureen and kiss her before they ever said a word. I honestly was mesmerized, just standing there watching that kiss. His lips fit hers so perfectly you would have thought they were one person. I have never seen anything like that kiss. It seemed like it lasted for days, and it was a totally silent kiss except for a sweet little sigh that Maureen let escape just before he pulled away from her.

They turned to me, and I felt like I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I felt kinda dirty for intruding on their moment, but Chad put me at ease so fast I forgot it in seconds.

“Sheila,” Maureen smiled, “meet Chad.”

“Chad, I am so happy to finally meet you.” I extended my hand because, really, that was the only thing I knew to do right at that moment.

He had a soft laugh that was so sweet I blushed. “Sheila, you have no idea what an honor it is to meet you.” And he took my hand, but not to shake it. No, he kissed it. Those nice, soft full lips kissed my hand, and then with his other hand, he touched my cheek and kissed my other cheek. I started to sweat around my hairline right then, because that kiss went through me like wattage through a bulb. Chad nearly scared me somehow, he was just so…so…so male.

“Are we ready?” he asked. I didn’t say one damned little word, I just nodded; and he took my hand and Maureen’s hand and led us downstairs. He had a cab waiting and we rode to the party together.

I don’t know when Atlanta stopped being a Southern town and started belonging to the world, but I think it must have been sometime in the mid 70’s. I think CNN had a whole lot to do with that, but for me it was a sad transition. I just know when Margaret Mitchell got run over by a car crossing the street, Atlanta lost a whole lot of its soul. She would be turning over in her grave if she saw what it has become, mostly because there are a thousand times as many Yankees here now as there were when the South lost the war.

Chad helped us out of the cab, and we walked into the party. Really, I do believe we were the only heterosexual people there. That is not a bad thing, it was just different. I found my own group of gay hair stylists who talked about the most interesting things. It wasn’t long before I had my own group gathered around me, wide-eyed about my adventures and my lovers in Montgomeryville. See, I could talk about all those things with Derek and Patrick and Marcus and the four or five other men who had formed a circle around me, because I knew they would never judge me. I could hold court with Atlanta’s gay elite and they would bring me glasses of red wine and ask me all kinds of questions.

Funny, but, I remembered that video that came out a long time ago with this rock band KLF who made Tammy Wynette their queen and they did this song with her, and she was their idol. That’s exactly how I felt, especially since Tammy was a hairdresser when she was young. I was their queen, at least for the moment. And I do believe I was one glass of wine over the edge of total control.

Suddenly, Maureen was tugging at my arm. “Sheila,” she said, “Chad and I are ready to go. Do you want to go with us, or should we send a cab later?”

Derek and Patrick and Marcus begged me to stay, but Chad appeared and I suddenly felt like I needed to go with him and with Maureen. So I gave all the boys a peck on the cheek and promised to come back next time they had a party. And I meant it, too.

The cab ride home was quiet. It was intense because Chad and Maureen never kissed, they just looked into each other’s eyes, and silently held hands and touched each other’s faces with their fingertips. It seemed to me they were drawing pure energy from each other’s bodies. I believe if the lights in Atlanta had all gone out, they had enough between them to get the lights back on and keep them on ’til dawn. I was a little embarrassed, thinking of how tall the buildings were and remembering how those big buildings had scared me when I was a child. I felt them closing in on me back then, but I felt powerful enough now to tower over them somehow.

We climbed out of the cab and walked into the lobby and I looked at the clock. Three a.m. I had not stayed out that late since I was twenty-something. I wasn’t tired, though, I was actually somewhat energized. There is something special about Atlanta’s gay elite surrounding you and recognizing your sexual power. I believe that’s something we can draw from each other, even if we use it in different ways. We rode the elevator the same way we rode the cab, quietly and with smiles that no one needed explain. Chad had pressed the button, and I thought we were going back to drop me off at my room, but the elevator kept rising. I still had a little wine head and I asked, “aren’t we going back to my floor?”

“No,” he smiled. “Sheila, I haven’t been able to talk with you all evening, you’ve been so engaged with the other men you’ve met. We’re all going up to the suite on the top floor and have a drink and talk.”

“Oh, Chad, you haven’t seen Maureen all weekend, don’t you want to be together?”

“We are together, Sheila. We have all weekend. She’s told me so much about you, I feel I should know you as well.” The elevator stopped and opened up to the room. We stepped through the door and into the kind of place I have only imagined. Beyond the huge wooden door was an enormous room, filled with antique furniture and elegant tapestries. I tried to act as if I’d seen a place like it before, but God knows, I had not. Chad walked over to the fireplace and pushed a button, and the logs jumped to life. He opened the curtains and all of Atlanta lay before us, glowing and breathing like a city with a life of its own. I walked over to the sliding glass door and opened it. It was chilly out, but I didn’t care.

Chad handed me another glass of red wine, but this one was much richer than what I’d had at the party. He invited me to sit, and we gathered around the fireplace. He reached and took my high heeled shoes off, and propped my feet up on a big plush footstool and urged me to just talk. I would have told him anything by then, anything he asked. I explained that my life was a journey of sexual expression, and Maureen had helped me open the door sometimes, and I had three married lovers who asked nothing of me but pleasure and that I was intent on giving them as much of that as I could. I explained my theories of sexual expression as best I could, and when I was finished, I looked at Chad, who was in a big soft chair with Maureen sitting on an ottoman in front of him. I sort of knew she had been moving toward him as I spoke, but for once I was so eager to have my feelings out in the open I had not been paying much attention.

I grew silent as I looked over at the two of them. Maureen had her head back toward Chad and he kissed her, another of those kisses like I saw when he came to our room. He was behind her, arms wrapped around her, hands on her breasts. Maureen leaned back toward him and spread her legs, and I could see the tops of her stockings and that she had barely a wisp of fabric covering her pussy. With one hand, Chad unzipped her dress and it peeled off her like a midnight blue banana peel. Her breasts came spilling out the top, and I had never seen them that way before. Her nipples were as hard as stones, and Chad took one between his fingers, rolling it and stroking it. I couldn’t stop watching and I don’t know that they wanted me to stop.

“I should go,” I finally choked out the words and sat my glass down.

“No, Sheila,” Maureen whispered. “Please stay. Please watch.”

Chad nodded, and I felt like disagreeing would be downright disrespectful. So I stayed put.

Maureen’s legs spread a little farther with each kiss. Finally, she pulled the fabric of her panties aside and leaned back into Chad’s lap. His long, graceful fingers traced a line up her thighs and across her pussy. Maureen moaned and reached for her panties, tugging at them. Finally in desperation, she tore them off. Chad slipped a finger inside her and Maureen went crazy.

Of course, by then, I was losing my mind, too. I mean, Maureen is like my little sister, but I had already told you what a sexual person she is. I figure if her libido (which is, by the way, a word I learned from her) was half what mine is, I was about to cream my panties just watching.

Chad stood and unbuttoned his black silk shirt, one button at a time. Lord knows I wanted to help, but I didn’t dare. I mean, he was Maureen’s man after all, and I was not about to interfere. I have enough men of my own. But I watched as Maureen lay back on the ottoman and on the chair, legs open and fingers stroking her own nipples and pussy. Chad slid his shirt off and started to unzip his black pants. I realized my own fingers were between my legs, and I was watching one of the world’s great love scenes unfold. I really could feel the love between them, and I knew it was pure. And I wasn’t nervous anymore.

Chad slipped his pants off, and his cock was like a marble sculpture, it was so hard. I could smell it from all the way over to my chair; you know that smell, that wonderful man aroma, when a guy shows you his cock and it’s been wrapped up all night in his clothes. I thought I was going to melt into the cushion right that minute.

He knelt and kissed Maureen again. He put his hand on top of her hand while it stroked her pussy. He bent to kiss her nipple. He licked her belly. I had never seen anything like it in all my life.

Chad pulled her up and led her to the enormous bed, tearing the covers off and spreading her out like a treasure. The pulsing, breathing sight of her made me crazy, and this beautiful sculpture of a man was the absolute perfect complement to Maureen’s beauty. If I’d died right then, I knew I had seen perfection.

“Sheila.” I froze like I’d hit a wall going ninety miles an hour. Chad’s voice was so clear as he stood before that window, the glow of Atlanta in the background and his swollen cock hanging over Maureen.

“Come here, darling.” And he held out his hand. Well, who was I to say no, so I rose and scrambled over to the bedside. Chad slipped my top over my head, opened my bra, and pulled my skirt down to the floor. I was naked in ten seconds, just the way I had been with Colin. I hardly knew what happened. Maureen lay on the bed, and I swear to God I could feel her heat rising.

“She’s my true love,” Chad smiled. “Make her happy.”

He wanted me to please her? I looked down and Maureen nodded at me. He wanted me to lick Maureen’s pussy, and Maureen wanted me to do it. She was so pretty lying there, totally open and naked and soft and warm. She was my best friend. I had to do her justice.

I lay down and put my face up next to hers.

“Maureen, honey, I have never in my life done this, ” I started.

“Sheila, it’s okay,” she smiled, and ran her fingers through my hair. “I trust you.”

I have to admit that never in my sexual journey have I not known what to do, so I put my mouth on her nipple, and Maureen seemed to approve. I slid my fingers down her tight little tummy, and she moved up to meet me. I figured that was a good thing, so I did more of that. Then my fingertips met her pussy lips and all hell broke loose. She moaned. She bucked. She took my hand and ran it between her legs.

I was aware of Chad, whispering in my ear. His hand cupped my breast and I felt his cock brush my leg.

“Chad, honey, what am I gonna do?” I whispered. “I promise you, I don’t know what to do.” My mouth hovered over Maureen’s pussy. I could smell it, smell the sweetness of it. The tendrils of soft hair brushed my lips, I was so close.

“Lick her the way you want to be licked,” he moaned into my ear. His fingers found my sweet swollen clit and I engulfed her pussy lips with my mouth.

Oh, the taste of her. Maureen was sweet and salty and tangy and honeyed all at once. My tongue waited to take her, and I let it lie still for a moment. Then I released it.

Maureen squealed a squeal of sheer pleasure and delight. She twisted and turned and lurched, but I rode her out, my hand cupping her firm little ass cheek and my tongue lapping at her clit. I thought of Colin, the way he used his tongue on me, the way he made me come with absolute abandon, and I did the same to Maureen. I circled her in tight little “o’s” and lapped her in long, langourous ovals. I licked her little asshole, slipping my tongue into it enough to make it wet, and slid my fingertip into her. I was aware of Chad’s marble-hard cock behind me, and when he took my sweet little pussy I let Maureen ride me all the harder.

He was so hard, he almost didn’t feel like flesh, but the heat of his cock was incredible. I knew he watched his lover as I let her flail against my tongue. I never let her off it for a second, and when Maureen came, we all came. She was loud and frightening and passionate and radiant. She gave off heat and energy and light. Chad shot into me and I came so hard on his cock I was afraid I might cut his circulation off. We all fell onto the bed. We all kissed. We all slept like babies that night.

The drive home was a little awkward for me, because Maureen and I were all alone and we had a chance to talk about our weekend, but I didn’t know how to bring it up. She and Chad were obviously okay with everything, but I didn’t want to be a third wheel at any time. She was feeling it, too, because we talked about things like our first orgasm and how Maureen had hers while riding a horse and I had mine when I woke up one morning and just needed to come, so I put my fingers in my panties and made it happen. Finally, we had a quiet moment. And it was right when we got to my driveway and pulled up in front of my house.

“I had a good weekend with you and Chad,” I told her. “And, Maureen…” I honestly didn’t know what to say.

“Oh, Sheila,” she laughed, and threw her arms around my neck. “What’s worrying you?”

I had to tell her. I was suddenly aware of what men deal with, that they don’t really know whether a woman has come or not. I mean, how do you know? I told Maureen I had really wanted to make her feel very special, and I didn’t know if she had ever been with another woman or not, and if she had I hoped I was good enough for her, and if she hadn’t I hoped it was all she wanted it to be, and no matter what, the journey as a sexual being is always filled with the unexpected.

Maureen pulled away from me. “Sheila,” she began; and I was a little scared, ” you made me feel wonderful. You are my best friend, and I was honored to have you please me that way. And yes, it was all I would have expected. It was perfect.”

And then she kissed my cheek and I knew it was okay. As she hugged me, I said, “Maureen, I really am not bisexual, you know?”

She laughed. “Neither am I.”

Maureen climbed into her car, waved, and pulled away. I stood there for a long time, happy for her and Chad, but sad that someday she would leave me here in Montgomeryville. That was a given. Maureen was too good for this place.

I went inside and sat my bag by the door. The answering machine blinked, and I wondered who it was. Maybe Justin? Maybe Roy? Maybe Colin?

I hoped it was Colin. I had a thing or two to thank him for.

© 2003 Jill. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

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