“No, it’s red velvet cake and icing.” Mildred pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, her lipstick was completely worn off, and she was streaked with red from the chin down. She’d been in such a state from all the acrobatics she hadn’t even buttoned her shirt properly.
“What the hell did she do to you?” Desiree asked.
“Yippy kai yay,” Mildred said flatly.
“Damn. You looked like you’ve been fucked senseless. LBD clients are usually pretty sedate,” Desiree said.
“Not this one.”
“Did you confess about Oscar?”
“I tried but she had her tongue in my mouth.”
“What else happened?” Desiree started the Jaguar.
“We did it against the door twice. Then we went to the kitchen, there was cake, and she rode me across the floor.” Only then did it occur to Mildred that she didn’t get a piece of cake. She licked a glob of cake off her arm. Not bad.
“Wow, did you ever get to the bedroom? You were in there a long time. I read five chapters of my book.”
“We never got that far. I think I’ll have to pass on spinning the bike for a few days.” She put her hand over Oscar and made a pained face.
Desiree laughed as she pulled away from the curb and headed for home. “Wow, you are impressive. An LBD client actually fucked you so hard that your girlie parts hurt. Wait until I tell the girls that.”
Mildred was horrified. “Don’t. Please don’t. I’d never live it down. It makes me look like Oscar hasn’t been used in awhile and they’ll tease me.”
“Oh, my God, are you really going to anthropomorphize your vagina?”
“I can’t anthro-whatever right now. My vagina is done for the day. She’s locked the door and put up a closed sign.”
Desiree chuckled. She didn’t bother to explain what anthropomorphize meant. “Well, let’s get you home and into a nice warm bath tub. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Can we stop at a bakery first? I never did get any of that cake,” Mildred said. Her stomach grumbled loudly. “Oscar is hungry.”
Desiree’s Desire
“Are you in love?” Evelyn asked. It was Desiree’s regular session with Evelyn the Brit. They were seated on Evelyn’s couch enjoying a drink.
“What?” Desiree said. “Why do you say that?”
“You seem a wee bit distracted,” Evelyn said, as she sipped her Pim’s on ice with a cucumber garnish.
“No, I’m not in love or distracted.” Desiree plucked the cucumber out of her drink and nibbled on it.
“Yes, you are, darling. Usually by this time, you’d have taken me on the couch instead of sitting there actually eating the garnish and looking morose.”
“I am not morose. I’m savoring my drink and my favorite client.”
Desiree knew it was true, though. Usually, she was unbuttoning Evelyn’s blouse and teasing her nipples while she drank her first Pim’s. She had even been known to put the cucumber on Evelyn’s nipples and nibble at it that way. She put her drink down and scooted over next to Evelyn.
Evelyn waggled her eyebrows. “That’s more like it,” she said. She stuck out her bottom lip in a mock pout and whined, “But I still think you have a lovelorn look.”
“I think you can definitely take my mind off it.” Desiree slowly unbuttoned Evelyn’s shirt.
“You bet I can. But I still want the story.” Evelyn set her drink on the coffee table.
“Right now?”
“Foreplay allows for talking.”
Desiree did need a confidante. She couldn’t talk to Candy Sweet about it because despite being her best friend—other than Mildred who she couldn’t tell for obvious reasons—Candy Sweet had a big mouth. You couldn’t share your secrets with a woman who couldn’t keep a secret.
Desiree sighed. “It’s the new girl at work. She’s living with me right now.” She unbuttoned Evelyn’s trousers.
“Ah, so you’ve got a crush on the new girl,” Evelyn said as Desiree nuzzled her nipples.
“I do. And it can’t happen,” Desiree said, as she slipped to the floor. She pulled off Evelyn’s trousers and panties and parted her thighs.
“Why not?” Evelyn said, pulling Desiree’s designer T-shirt off over her head. She unhooked Desiree’s bra and it fell to the floor.
Desiree rubbed her breasts along the inside of Evelyn’s thighs, her nipples growing harder with each trip up Evelyn’s smooth, silky skin. “Because girlfriends are a definite no-no in this line of business.”
“What is the reasoning behind that?” Evelyn said, letting out a quick gasp as Desiree ran a finger across her sweet spot.
Desiree added pressure, released and stroked. She grabbed Evelyn’s ass and pulled her to the edge of the couch. She bent and exhaled hot breath on Evelyn’s pussy.
Evelyn moaned expectantly and her legs parted even further.
Desiree said, “Most women want a monogamous relationship. They don’t like their girlfriends having sex with other women. They don’t understand the job requirements.”
“I can see where that would be a problem,” Evelyn muttered, taking Desiree by the ears and placing her mouth where she wanted it.
Desiree licked and sucked. Evelyn’s hips rolled and her breath quickened, keeping pace with Desiree’s tongue.
Evelyn was evidently still thinking about the problem because she kept talking. “But if your girlfriend has the same job requirements…”
Desiree flicked her tongue rapidly until she knew Evelyn had reached the point of no return, the path toward imminent orgasm.
Evelyn continued, “She couldn’t possibly mind...” She groaned loudly and bucked her hips. “You having to please other…”
Desiree used her fingers to enter Evelyn and that was the end of the discussion.
Fifteen minutes later, Desiree was naked and between Evelyn’s legs. They had finally made it to the bedroom. Desiree was inside Evelyn and Evelyn was inside her. Their bodies were moving in perfect unison. This was Evelyn’s favorite sexual position.
“Tell me about her,” Evelyn said, between lustful grunts.
Desiree moved in harder, increasing the depth. She knew where Evelyn’s G-spot was and she went for it. She didn’t want to talk about Mildred.
“There’s not much to tell,” Desiree said, thrusting.
“Tell me anyway. It makes me really horny watching you fuck me and talk about her. It’s like a threesome without the fear of being the one left out.” Evelyn ground her hips against Desiree’s. “Tell me what you would do to her.”
Desiree wasn’t fond of this part of her job—where the client wanted something odd like talking about how she’d fuck Mildred when she was fucking them and they were fucking her. It was distracting. Sometimes she’d have a client that wanted her to tell her every move, like, “I’m going to put my fingers in your wet, hot pussy. I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t walk for a week,” stuff like that. She did what they wanted, of course, but she couldn’t help but fantasize what it would be like if she got to be herself for once. What would it be like to make love to somebody because you loved them? What a novel idea.
“All right,” Desiree said, hoping that pleasing Evelyn would distract her from talking about Mildred. She moved her fingers in a come-hither gesture. Evelyn moaned. That was a good sign.
“Tell me,” Evelyn said between pants.
“I’d take her into my bedroom and take off her clothes slow, her blouse falling from her shoulders. I’d kiss her and undo her pants. Then I’d run my finger around the waistband of her panties. I’d cup her in my hand and push my hand against her cleft and rub my fingers along the crotch of her panties.”
“Oh, God yes, just like in boarding school, dry humping in the W.C. Let’s change position. I want to taste you.”
Good idea, Desiree thought, a sixty-niner was always a conversation stopper. Desiree swung her hips around and positioned herself over Evelyn. She hovered over Evelyn’s m
outh until Evelyn pulled on her ass and dove in. Evelyn was very, very good at this. Desiree moaned. She imagined doing this to Mildred. She imagined Mildred under her, wanting her, tasting her. Desiree’s imagination fanned the flames of her desire and soon she was clinging to the precipice.
“Oh, yes, darling,” Evelyn said, as Desiree’s own climax built.
“Oh, God, yes,” Desiree said, letting go and falling over the edge. Evelyn’s own orgasm followed. Desiree’s last thought before she collapsed into sensual bliss was the realization that Mildred was the one that she really wanted.
Be A Pepper
“Oh, Greta, it was so exciting. My vagina has a name now! And let me tell you, Cindy Lee sucked in bed. Speaking of which, have you seen her lately?” Mildred asked. She was curled up on the sofa, looking at the bright city lights, and talking to her best friend on the phone. Qui brought her a tall glass of green tea with a lemon slice. She didn’t smile but she did give little bow. Mildred felt they were making progress. She bowed her head in return.
A part of Mildred loved Bon Chance—there were fancy restaurants and pretty clothes and a fantastic selection of shoes—but another part of her missed Terrence something awful. She knew that was silly. Terrence didn’t really have anything for her. She’d have ended up working at IGA and fighting for ten cent raises the rest of her life.
“Yes, I saw Cindy Lee just the other day. And get this: Sarah dropped that two-timing hussy like a hot potato. By the time Sarah was done with her, Cindy Lee was running out the door like she was being chased with a shitty broom.” Greta suddenly gasped. “Oh my Lord, Mildred, you’re not thinking about trying to hook back up with her are you? Because I have no qualms about dragging you out behind the woodshed and dunking you in Daddy’s horse trough until you see sense.”
“Never!” Mildred shivered at the mere thought of Cindy Lee.
“Thank God,” Greta drawled.
“Besides, I got me a bigger problem than that,” Mildred said, lowering her voice. She padded on bare feet across the room, opened the condo door and stuck her head out in the hallway, checking to make sure Desiree was nowhere in the vicinity. She thought it was Evelyn’s night, and if so, that meant Desiree could be gone until morning.
“What kind of problem? I thought you were happy being a gigolo girl. Are you having second thoughts?” Greta whispered even though she didn’t know why she was whispering.
“Heck no, this is a lesbian’s wet dream—hot sex with lots of ladies and no drama. It can’t get any better. When I remember how Cindy Lee and me used to fight over who ate the last of the peanut butter and how she’d buy shoes instead of paying the electric—I think, Whooooee, ain’t life grand now!” Mildred always found herself slipping back into her country talk whenever she was around Greta. She’d been trying to curb it because it made her sound ignorant. She didn’t want Desiree to think she was stupid.
“So what’s wrong?” Greta asked.
Mildred heard the pop, snap, fizz of Greta opening a bottle of pop. Her mouth began to salivate. “You having a pop?”
“Sure am.”
“What kind?”
“My usual—Dr. Pepper. Why?”
“Oh, I was just missing it was all,” Mildred said. If she closed her eyes and thought about it hard enough she could feel the sweet carbonation sliding down her throat. Geez, what she wouldn’t give for a Dr. Pepper. She sipped her green tea instead.
“Why? They don’t have pop in Bon Chance?” Greta giggled at that. “Big ole city and you can’t get yourself a li’l ol’ Dr. Pepper.”
“It’s not that. Pop is against the rules. Honey Belle says it’s bad for your complexion. And Desiree says it best not to drink your calories. I only get allotted so many calories a day and I have to save it for actual food.”
“Why Mildred, you’re not fat. You’re perfect,” Greta said.
“I know, but you gotta be all health conscious here. Everybody is. They all wear these fit bracelets that tell them everything about their heart and lungs and how many steps they took and how many calories they burned. It makes my head spin. You know I was never good at math.”
“Does it tell them the last time they took a dump?” Greta asked.
Mildred giggled. She missed Greta something fierce—how they could just sit and laugh about anything.
“Now what was you gonna tell me?” Greta said.
“Oh, well, I’m starting to have some real serious feelings about Desiree. I know I ought not to. There is just something about that girl that makes my heart go all warm and fuzzy.”
“Why don’t you just come out and tell her? All she can say is no, thank you,” Greta said.
“I can’t tell her, Greta. What if she doesn’t feel the same way? I’d feel stupid. And then I couldn’t live here anymore.”
“Why are you still living in her condo? Seems like you got enough cash to get your own place by now.”
“Well, I do but I…”
“Desiree probably said you don’t need to move out. This place is plenty big enough for the two of you.”
There was a pause.
“She did, didn’t she?” Greta prodded. “Because she likes being with you just as much as you like being with her. Am I right?”
There was another pause.
“Yes, I reckon you are,” Mildred breathed.
“Ha! I knew it. She’s in love with you, too. Now you two need to figure a way to get on it.”
“But how?”
“That’s the tricky part. I know you can’t just blurt it out. Life would be simpler if we could all say what’s on our minds but it might be a pretty hurtful world if we did. I couldn’t just come out and tell Floyd I love him. I had to see it in his face too.”
“I know, right? So what am I going to do?”
“Well, for starters, you’re going to keep your mouth shut and enjoy being around her. Then you’re going to go get yourself a Dr. Pepper and drink it all up.”
“And then what?”
“I’ll think up something, don’t you worry,” Greta said. “Leave it all to me.”
Mildred already felt better. Greta had a way of making things seem all right.
“Speaking of Dr. Pepper,” Greta said, “Did I tell you Floyd is going to take me to Waco to see the Dr. Pepper museum?”
Mildred Makes An Omelet
The next morning, Mildred stopped in the condo’s lobby and pulled a large envelope out of Desiree’s mailbox. She had to use two hands and one foot braced on the wall to pry the oversized envelope out of the mailbox. The mailman must have used a plunger to get it into the box. By the time Mildred got the envelope out, it was so wrinkled and shredded it looked like it had been run over by a dump truck.
Mildred took the stairs instead of the elevator. It was part of her new fitness routine. That was one of the main differences between living in a small town and living in the big city. Big city people exercised. They set aside time each day to exercise. Small town folks had jobs that were already full of exercise. Mildred had worked out as part of her job as a chicken rancher. She didn’t have to go to the gym because she got all the walking, weight lifting, and calorie-burning she needed by chasing the chickens and toting the feed sacks.
This morning Mildred had gone to the gym by herself because Desiree still hadn’t returned from her night with Evelyn. Working out wasn’t nearly so much fun without Desiree. As a matter of fact, nothing was much fun if Desiree wasn’t there. Did that mean she was in love? Didn’t true love mean you liked to do everything with the other person? Even boring, sweaty stuff?
Mildred was still pondering this when she opened the door to the condo to find Desiree in the kitchen cooking.
“Smells delicious,” Mildred said, putting the smooshed envelope on the kitchen bar.
Desiree smiled at her. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Mildred loved Desiree’s smile. It was the type of smile that made gloomy days seem not so bad. Mildred’s attitude instantly brightened.
“I’m starvin’ Marvin. Whatcha cooking?” Mildred said.
“I’m practicing being a lesbian,” Desiree said. She began to shred leaves of spinach with her fingers and toss them into a bowl.
“I thought you were already a lesbian,” Mildred said. She didn’t know being a lesbian required practice. It had always come so naturally to her.
“It’s a proven fact that lesbians love omelets. So I have to keep my omelet making skills up to snuff,” Desiree explained.
“Oh,” Mildred said. She looked at the carton of eggs sitting beside the stove and wrinkled her nose. She still didn’t like to look at eggs. Why didn’t she stop for donuts on the way home?
“I wanted to surprise you.” Desiree beamed at her. “I thought you would like a real homemade meal.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Mildred said, her heart doing flip flops inside her chest. She quickly pecked Desiree on the cheek and smiled to herself. She could imagine Greta’s voice saying, “If it sounds like love and acts like love, then it is love.”
“I know how you feel about real eggs, but I think it’s time to let all that go. Besides, making omelets is a necessary skill for a gigolo girl. If you have an over-nighter who is a non-cooker being able to make an omelet is a must. You do know how to make an omelet?”
“Not really. I raised chickens and eggs, but I can’t cook either one. I’m all thumbs when it comes to the kitchen,” Mildred said.
“Then I’ll teach you,” Desiree said. “Now come on over here.” Desiree pulled an apron out of a drawer. She handed it to Mildred to put on.
It was a fancy twill apron—probably from that swanky catalog Williams Sonoma, Mildred thought. Everything was swanky about Desiree. Back home, mama wore a plain cotton apron trimmed in rickrack.
“Sometimes wearing an apron naked and cooking is a turn on,” Desiree said.
“You want me to take off my clothes?” Mildred asked.
“Well, you don’t have to do it now,” Desiree said.
“Like my mama always used to say, don’t fry bacon naked.”
Gigolo Girl Page 12
