Goody Two Shoes

by Cooper, Laura

  Tears seep from my eyes and I shake my head woefully. I agree with her. It’s that inner voice - that sounds a great deal like my mother’s - which keeps telling me cheating is a sin no matter what the cause. That it would be better for me to live the rest of my life in a failed marriage than do what I’m doing! But why should I be miserable until my dying day? Why can’t I use paper napkins and wear Winter White? Shouldn’t I do whatever - or whoever - it takes to save my marriage? And while I’m busy debating which rules to keep and which ones to toss to the curb, I need to take a moment to consider that the Catholic Church also considers divorce a sin. I’m screwed either way. I sigh and place my hand over hers to show that I’m with her.

  Patty smiles, “Good. Now come in the kitchen and see the outfit Jonathon sent for you to wear Friday. Girl you made some kind of serious impression.”

  Patty helped me clear the cobwebs from my thought process and now I think she’s right. The image of Mr. Galloway feeding me his manhood is burnt into my brain. And I like it. God help me I do. Now the outfit, I’ll call it a costume, Jonathon sent me is a horse of an entirely different color.

  I survey the damage in the full length mirror. It’s a school girl style short plaid skirt, a white cotton shirt that’s at least two sizes too small for me, knee socks and two ponytail holders. I shot Patty a weary glance, “I wouldn’t be caught dead in this even when I was a schoolgirl!”

  Patty turns me around and around, “Actually, it’s a really hot look on you.”

  “Oh be serious! I look like a forty eight year old wannabe cheerleader and you know it!”

  She shakes her head and laughs, “You do not. I’m telling you, it’s smoking hot. Look even my nipples are hard!”

  I reach over and pinch her nipple hard, “Yeah, this coming from a woman who once wore a hoola skirt to school in the second grade.”

  She laughs again, “Mom didn’t do laundry a lot and you know it!”

  True to form, I begin to have second thoughts about this venture, again, just a few minutes after Patty leaves. Then I look out the window to watch her leaving my driveway and see the poor excuse for a car I’ve been driving. It’s a ten year old minivan that I no longer need, except of course for sex store runs with the girls. All of my children are off in their lives, and it still has Cheeto’s stuck between the seats. I can’t help but notice it seems mortified next to Patty’s brand new Mercedes coupe as she waves goodbye to me from the street. Now I’m embarrassed by the van, and for the van! Yet Simmons is reluctant to buy me something nicer. He says it’s still “very practical” for me. That solidifies my new ambition. If Simmons wants to be boring and have a ‘ho hum’ life, then he can do it on his own. I love Simmons, but I’ll be damned if I’ll sit around all day and stare at a lifetime of knickknacks for the rest of my days. All that does is make me want to dust. Vagina perks up at the thought. No, it’s time to get out and have some fun. I feel like a rebel, a woman of intrigue, my guilt is temporarily suspended as I glance in the mirror at the middle aged school girl who looks back at me. Then I scramble to change before Simmons gets home and finds me wandering around the house like this.

  The following Friday, I pull up to the address Jonathon gave me with a huge lump in my throat. My entire body is shaking in terror; adrenalin alone carries me to the front door. I knock, and wait. I’m wearing a trench coat that I’d found in the back of my closet to cover up the outfit I’m wearing underneath. Its common knowledge that the minute I head out the door dressed like a wannabe cheerleader will be the one time I run into the church Red Hat Ladies. I shift on my feet, pulling at my ponytails. I’m more nervous at this moment than I’d been on my wedding day. I look back towards the street to see Cheeto gum minivan, and turn back to the door with renewed purpose. That stupid van has become my motivation. As a matter of fact, when I get home tonight I’m going online to start car dreaming.

  When the ancient door opens, I’m startled to see a gigantic black man hovering in the doorway. Good Lord I hope Jonathon doesn’t want me to give that man a blow job! I’d choke on something that big! The thought in my mind causes me to laugh slightly uncomfortably. The large man grins, “I assume you’re Mrs. Townsend?” He holds out his hand to help me in the door. “I’m Hawthorne,” I gaze down at my pale hand deep inside his 4XL one, and feel Vagina snap to attention. Chocolaty brown eyes bore into me and goose bumps pop up on my forearms as I move next to him. Suddenly that thought I’d had a few minutes ago? The one where I said I’d choke on a man that big? Yeah, I’m willing to give it a shot. It’s the exact same effect that Jonathon has on me; almost a mesmerizing gentleness. One hundred percent confident man!

  Judging from the gold Rolex on his twelve inch wrist, he doesn’t work here. “Nice to meet you Hawthorne, are you visiting Jonathon?” I ask naively.

  He laughs heartily and the crinkles in his eyes catch my attention. He’s a kind man. Only kind men have crinkles like that. “No ma’am, I live here. Me and Josephine, my wife, along with Jonathon and Ellen of course.” His eyes glisten as he continues to hold my hand in his monstrous paw and I feel my body temperature rising to meet his.

  “I see, well that’s great Hawthorne,” I’m not sure where to go with that. Some kind of swinger affair I assume, and I can definitely see the attraction here.

  He looks down at me like a gentle bear, “Jonathon wants you to wait in the living room. Can I get you anything?”

  I shake my head, “No thank you.” Another panic attack assumes me and I wobble slightly in my heels. Hawthorne’s steady arm on my elbow guides me to the sofa. “I’ll bring you a chilled vodka.”

  “Thanks,” I manage weakly, not bothering to wonder how he knows that chilled vodka will settle my nerves faster than anything else. But he takes my dusty trench coat and disappears.

  A few minutes later he’s back, and I slam the cold vodka without a thought. “Now are you going to be okay? Because I really need to go talk with Jonathon about his schedule before he gets himself into a rather sticky situation.” He looms over me like a towering oak.

  “Oh no, please go ahead. I’ll feel fine now.” And I do feel much better as the warmth of the vodka fills my shaking bones.

  On the lavish couch, I rearrange my legs and play with my purse as the vodka kicks in. I’m about to get up in search of another when Patty walks into the room.

  “What are you doing here?” I blurt.

  She shrugs lightly, “Just here hanging out this afternoon. Jonathon wants me to escort you upstairs for your lesson.”

  She extends her impeccably manicured hand to help me off the couch. Once again I’m blown away by the transformation in my best friend. We’ve known each other since Kindergarten and Patty’s problem had always been that she was a little too much on the tomboyish style. While I was at home playing Barbies, she was out on the water with her brothers or hunting in the country. High School caught her unaware and when boys started following her around she usually ended up beating their asses. She was the original Southern Fried Chick, yet had absolutely no concept of her own beauty. Fortunately for her, the look she coined - blue jeans, camouflage and diamonds - took off and now she’s in style. But she wasn’t always this confident. The constant awkwardness she’d had in school is no longer part of her, and she seems ready to tackle the world. I take her hand and let her pull me from the sofa and guide me up the stairs.

  The room she opens is dim and full of items crafted in another era, yet the effect is stunning. I feel like I’ve stepped into a Princess’s bedroom. Heavy velvet draperies in baby blue cut out any sunlight that dare to make its way into the space. My eyes adjust to the fact that it’s an overly large bedroom, and a delicately carved rice bed stands against one wall as the dazzling centerpiece.

  “Go ahead and remove your clothes,” Patty says plainly, as if I’m getting a pap smear.

  I stare at her blankly, considering flipping her off.

  “You heard me, go ahead and remove your clothes,” She repeats, l
ess plainly.

  What the hell is this? I think with fresh panic. I wasn’t aware there’d be lesbian lessons, no, this is not cool. “Patty, um, I don’t want to… you know…” I point from my chest to hers idiotically. Guess who the awkward one is now?

  Patty takes a stance, “If you don’t strip, I’m going to rip them off your body.”

  “Patty, no, ugh.”

  She steps towards me firmly, “One…”

  “Okay, okay!” I say reaching up to unbutton my shirt with defiance still written on my face. I’m down to my panties and bra but she persists. The only thing I’m to wear is the shoes and socks.

  “Now climb up on the bed and let me get this blindfold on,” she says softly now.

  I follow her instructions not really knowing why, but find myself lying in the center of the bed as she puts a dark blindfold over my eyes. “Is that too tight?” she asks as if I’m trying on shoes.

  I shake my head no. Any speech on my part right now will probably bring me to tears. If this is part of some master plan to bring me to my knee’s its working! I pinch my eyes closed beneath the blindfold, as if I can just shut out the world around me. Patty’s voice is sharp against my silence, “Alright sugar plum, I’m leaving now. Jonathon will be in shortly I suppose.”

  Leaving? I almost gasp with relief. For a few minutes I thought… well let’s not go into all that’s been running through my mind. As the door to the room shuts, I relax on the bed thankful that today’s lesson isn’t lesbianism. Baby steps, right? I’d prayed that was how they planned on turning me into a Wonder woman like Patty… with baby steps. It could go either way - they may be planning to throw me right in the pool, sink or swim style, I have no idea. But the door opens again and I hear several sets of footsteps standing beside the bed. I absolutely do smell Chanel Number 5, and Jonathon’s cologne registers with a familiar hotness. But there’s another man as well. I can’t place the scent though. Amazing how I’m relying on all senses other than sight, isn’t it?

  “Good afternoon my dear,” Jonathon’s voice booms beside me.

  “Good afternoon, Jonathon,” I say nervously, trying to repeat his cool composure.

  “Are you ready to begin?”

  I nod my head slowly.

  “Today we’re going to remind you of the sensations you had years ago. The blindfold will guard our assistant’s privacy, and you will not remove it under any circumstances do you understand me?”

  Again I nod.

  “Very well, when you’re finished, wait for Patty to come and take the blindfold off, then dress and come downstairs to the library if you will.”

  I don’t hear the door shut behind them because of the manly form that slides over me on the bed. At first he stumbles clumsily, as if he’s blindfolded, too. But he soon finds his way. Skilled hands begin a slow rhythmic massage of my bare breasts; suddenly pleasure seeps into my veins through his warm touch. Stunned by the sensual attack, I hold my breath and count, anything to push away the realization that another man is on top of me. But Vagina is bitching for me to shut up and her twin is twirling. My body’s revolting against old fashioned beliefs that’d been drilled into my brain by a much more delicate generation, yet as warm lips surround my nipples, my brain sinks into submission. Vagina and Clitoris have become too strong to fight; I just don’t want to argue with them anymore. Every touch is magnified a thousand times and the hardness against my thigh becomes my newest desire.

  Imagining the body above me; tall, heavy-set, with hip bones eager to thrust inside me, I feel the clinching of my inner walls. Somewhere in my head the line, “Resistance is futile” sounds, and I understand Picard’s plight, but my body is already steps ahead of my guilty conscience. As his lips move down my stomach and tug on Clitoris, I know that I’m going to be saying goodbye to rational thinking for a while. He pulls with his gentle lips, and then a slick tongue moves up and down my crevice. I shiver with forbidden ecstasy as his thumb presses hard in small circles around my opening, “Oh!” I moan my first audible.

  The man between my legs is breathing heavily; I can smell mint and bourbon on his breath as he slides over the sensitive skin of my stomach and comes face to face with me. Finger’s that taste of me, are forced between my lips and I suck, good Lord I’m a Tramp!

  A thick arm moves down between us and pushes his hard member into me, I groan loudly as the size of it stretches me past fullness. As a matter of fact it’s so large that it hurts and I protest by squirming with a sharp squeal. Finger’s cross my lips tenderly to silence me. Goose bumps form on my skin with his touch, and suddenly I want to know everything about this man. Judging from the size of the cock, he’s an extremely well built man. With my hands I roam his body frantically to discover my mystery lover. But lips cover mine and his tongue slides into my mouth with a luscious kiss. I quickly forget my examination and respond passionately. As our kiss deepens, my need returns and he pinches my nipples tenderly. Slowly he begins to move his hips again, and I adjust to his size as moves oh so slowly against every single erogenous spot inside me. I’m lost in the sensations my body is sending me and blindness only compounds the pleasure.

  I moan again, this time louder with more need, and my hips begin moving with the ache of satisfaction. He doesn’t hold back in fear, he pounds into me giving me the rapturous orgasm I’m begging for. My scream sounds foreign to me as my body floats into another dimension; each throb is like a wave rolling onto a deserted beach. But like the tide, it soon retreats. I’m left feeling weak and confused. It’s been a long time. I mean a long, long time since I’ve had an orgasm that powerful. I feel almost giddy from the release.

  But the man who’s given me this incredible experience is in no way finished. I’m reminded by his hard cock still pulsing inside me. Bless his heart, he’s practically trembling with need and I completely forgot him. I lay still and push my hips upwards again, telling him to move forward. And he wastes no time moving back and forth over me, only this time he puts his thumb over Clitoris as he thrusts. The hardness against her tender spot renews my passion and we begin again.

  As he pushes into me for the last time, I feel the fullness of his orgasm inside me. If there is one last untouched spot within me, it’s now filled. I rile against my orgasm and my back arches from the bed as I scream my pleasure into the empty room. Suddenly amidst my screams of passion I hear a cough. It rattles me back to reality, is someone else in the room with us? Now that I think about it, I never heard anyone leave. Oh hell! Has someone been watching us?

  The man slowly pulls from me, now I feel the chill of our sweat on my body as he exits with a tender kiss to my lips. It’s Jonathon’s voice that fills the silent room, “Very good. We’ll speak downstairs. Patty will help you get dressed now.”

  “Wait! What? It’s over?” And I’m sad at the sudden departure. What happened to the days of cuddling?

  I feel Patty slipping beside me on the bed to remove the blindfold. It’s knotted now from my head having thrashed about on the pillow, and she struggles with it a moment. My relief from darkness leaves me still blinded somewhat, but I can see Jonathon walking out the door. I look at Patty anxiously. Had she watched the entire time?

  She shakes her head quizzically, “No, I wasn’t here. What do you think of the blindfold?”

  I sit upright, juices run onto the thick sheets of the bed, “I could feel everything! It was good, really good.” I’m caught between wanting to tell her just how fricking amazing it was and shyness.

  Patty’s face shows excitement, “I know right? That’s how I felt, like my sexuality wasn’t gone at all, it was just covered up by bullshit!”

  “Bullshit?” I mumble with a laugh.

  “Bullshit my brain made up to ignore horniness. The whole time Steve would be above me, before I mean, I was thinking about stupid crap like laundry lists of stuff I needed to do. It’s like his face reminded me of chores or something. Blindfolded you don’t know who’s on top of you so you can only imagine.
Pretty fun, really. It could be Simmons, or Jonathon or Thor, you just have to imagine! Let me guess, you had an orgasm like you haven’t had in years?”

  I nod my head awkwardly.

  Patty’s face shows excitement again, as if it’s my first date and she’s bursting with pride at my new dress. Except I’m still naked. I shift uncomfortably on the bed and she snaps back to reality. “Oh all right ‘Miss Goody Two Shoes,’ get dressed and go on downstairs to talk to Jonathon! But for the record, Tara?”

  “Yeah?” I glance at her.

  “You look more beautiful right this minute than I’ve seen you look in years. Seriously girl, you’re a heartbreaker!” She stands and walks flirtingly across the room to the door. Before leaving she blows me an air kiss. I mimic it and she closes the door, leaving me to my thoughts.

  In front of the full length mirror in the room I realize that she’s right. My hair is tousled around my head giving me that fully fucked look that movie stars pay for. Even my skin seems to radiate a glow that oozes sensuality. For the first time, in I don’t know how long, I’m pleased with the sight of my naked body in front of a mirror. I wriggle into the outfit again, but this time I leave a few button’s down on the shirt. I’m feeling pretty sexual right now, like a stray in heat. I close my eyes and my own hands wander down my calves and thighs, feeling what he had when he touched me. The moisture between my thighs is hot and luscious, as I slide into the red panties that’d been in my dresser drawer for the past four years.

  The front door downstairs is closing as I walk down the hallway towards the staircase. I can tell that a large statured man is leaving, but through the twilight I can’t make out any other features. But my attention is directed towards the faint scent of Chanel Number 5 that surrounds me in the upstairs hallway. I glance around to see the source but find no one. Lifting my arm I even sniff to make sure the romantic scent isn’t coming from me. My staple Estee Lauder mixed with sweat and sex are the only smells I find.