Explanation of Love 03

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JimBob44
JimBob44
5,055 Followers

"Well I don't know," he spat.

The two nurses he'd taken to Radcliffe's had been so impressed, they'd started sucking his cock just as soon as the valet had closed their car door.

"I mean, what you and your other dates did after blowing a hundred and eighty six dollars on a meal?" he barked.

"Went dancing," Terry said. "Jumpers are kind of dead on Thursdays, but that new place, 'Foxtrot Lounge' is very nice; do you like ballroom dancing?"

Terry tried to act oblivious to his foul mood.

He was nice, or had seemed to be when he'd come into her salon for a haircut; was handsome enough, even if his middle was beginning to soften, and it was better than sitting at home with Alberto.

"Got two left feet," Dr. Williams admitted.

"You know, you do get extra credit for trying," Terry advised, leaning close to him.

But he wasn't interested in trying. He just drove her home.

"Yeah, it was all right, I guess," Terry shrugged again.

"Think you'll..." Charlene asked and shoved Alberto's head away from her.

"Doubt it; he didn't even try for a good night kiss," Terry admitted.

"Sucks," Marlene sympathized, shoving Alberto away from her.

"How about y'all?" Terry asked.

"Manny's then miniature golf and they thought that would get them the pussy," Charlene grumbled.

"Yeah, believe that?" Marlene threw in.

"And, and, get this; we said 'how about the Dead End; they got great burgers' and they're all like 'shit girl, that place too expensive; feel me girl?'" Charlene threw in.

"Should have told them 'y'all cheap ass losers can just turn this around, take us on back home,'" Marlene said, grabbing for the box of cereal.

"Heard from Marissa the other day," Charlene ventured as she wolfed down her Cap'n Crunch cereal.

"No," Terry said before Charlene could go any further.

Louis had sent Marissa Ramirez to interview for one of the chairs; Trudy was leaving at the end of the month to deliver her baby. Charlene and Marlene had chatted with the woman, striking up an easy friendship while Terry finished with her client.

The second thing Terry noticed was the numerous tattoos the woman had. The majority of the tattoos could be covered by the white jacket the stylists wore. But she would have to wear a turtle neck to cover the coiled snake that decorated her neck, just below her right ear. And Marissa would have to wear gloves to cover the 'Angels 270; that lay prominently displayed on the back of her right hand.

The third thing that immediately attracted Terry's attention was the several piercings the woman proudly sported. Terry personally had nothing against a few discrete adornments; both she and Paula had pierced navels. Her navel piercing had been a gift from Paula and the ring was a large gold hoop with a diamond heart pendant dangling from it.

Heather had both nipples, her navel, and her clitoris pierced and had tried to wheedle Terry into paying for some labial piercing. Terry had told the whining woman that she would not pay for the rings; her money was for more practical things, such as rent, utilities, food.

No, Terry did not have any prejudice against adornments such as nipples, navels, even genitalia. But Marissa had a nose piercing, a lip piercing through the bottom lip, a tongue piercing, three on her left cheek (Terry was sure that there was some significance but did not know what that might be) and at least seven rings that followed the curvature of her right eyebrow.

But, as Terry finished with her client, the first thing she noticed Marissa's loud voice and shrieking laughter filling the normally quiet salon.

Terry was polite and even inquired about possibly removing some of the piercings and covering up the tattoos while at T.Dayton's.

Marissa immediately flew into a rage, declaring "Them fucking tattoos tell people where I been! And where I been ain't nothing nice, feel me?"

"Precisely," Terry said, trying to remember some of the defensive moves Paula had taught her. "I, and our clients don't really need to know where you've been, though."

Terry got Marissa out of the salon and called Louis.

"You ever send me another Marissa Ramirez and I will tell everyone you got your training at Darkira's, you hear me?" Terry threatened.

"I told her to do something about all them rings," Louis said. "Please tell me she did."

"She did not; she walked in here looking like a freak, Louis," Terry complained.

The next girl Louis sent in was also Latin, but Wilma Perez was much more in like with what Terry wanted. Wilma was only four foot eight, but could take a joke and did not get upset when the clients teased her about her height. She was quiet, polite, and respectful.

And she was grateful to have the job. Terry had moved Wilma to the station next to hers, so that she could monitor the twenty year old woman's work. Within a week, she knew Wilma would need no supervision.

But Marissa wasn't letting go easily; she called Charlene and Marlene often, begging them to beg Terry for a job at T. Dayton's.

"Louis said she's really good at..." Marlene defended, also slurping loudly at her cereal.

"I don't care; she just does not fit what I am looking for," Terry said firmly. "Really? Neither one of you do either; I really stretch the rules for you."

"What's that mean?" Marlene yelled defensive.

"Shoes," Terry said.

"Those heels kill my feet!" Charlene protested.

"And the skirts," Terry went on. "I like them to at least reach to your knees, not mid-thigh like some of the ones y'all wear."

"Fine," Marlene grumbled.

"And, you both look like you just got out of bed and slapped on your make-up; oh, wait. You DID just get out of bed and slap on your make-up," Terry continued.

"Fine, fine," Charlene grumbled.

"Bye," Terry said, opening the kitchen door.

"God, she's such a bitch," Marlene said.

"That lets us live here for free, and pays us, even though we ain't made our base yet," Charlene said, scraping the last few pieces of cereal into her mouth. "And buys us this cereal, even though she never eats any of this junk, and..."

"Got it," Marlene said, tilting the bowl and spilling milk all over herself as she drank from the bowl.

"God you're such a slob," Charlene said as Alberto greedily licked at the milk that splattered on the floor.

Marlene did wipe the table and the chair, and after urging from Charlene, the floor.

Terry hated getting to the salon early; the solitude depressed her. She knew it was necessary, though. She took the time to check each stylists' scheduled appointments, made sure that the sample packs were ready, and made sure that both restrooms were fully stocked.

So that there would not be the overwhelming silence, Terry played a CD that Paula had made for her; a CD with soft, romantic songs. Paula would take her into her arms and twirl her around the living room.

Once, both a little drunk on wine, they'd danced around nude, grinding their crotches and their breasts together. Paula had shoved Terry onto the couch and tongued Terry's pussy feverishly, until Terry screamed in orgasm.

Of course, Sonny had come in from the garage where he'd been working on modifying his truck, ruining that moment between the two lovers by insisting that he join them.

"I like that song," Selena said as 'Slave to Love' by Brian Ferry played.

Terry screamed; she had not heard anyone enter.

"Oh! I am so sorry!" Selena cried out.

Terry very nearly burst into sobs, but reassured Selena that she was all right.

Soon, the other stylists entered, and then the first client of the day saunter in and another week of work at T. Dayton began.

Terry had just finished with her eleven o'clock appointment when she heard two soft 'dings' on her screen.

"Thank you, Selena," Terry murmured to herself.

She forced herself to walk slowly, naturally toward the rear of the salon. She took her key out and opened the door to the stockroom.

The moment the door shut behind her, Terry sprinted for the rear door. She shoved it open, then ran around the rear of the building, up the far side of the building, then slowed to a deliberate walk across the parking lot.

She smiled softly as she saw Paula trying to peer into the front window of T.Dayton while trying to look as if she wasn't peering into the front window of T. Dayton.

"Hi," she said softly.

Paula gasped, whirling around.

Terry felt that feeling in the pit of her stomach; Paula was just as beautiful as she had been that first time they'd met, nearly a year and a half ago, at Clark's Drive-In.

"I uh, I was just..." Paula stammered as Terry approached her.

Terry took the initiative, became the aggressor, and pulled Paula in for a hug.

"I miss you so much," terry whispered in Paula's ear.

"Oh my God, oh Terry!" Paula burst into sobs, clutching Terry tightly.

Terry just held the woman until the sobbing subsided.

"I'm um, I'm on my, have lunch with me?" Paula finally stammered out, wiping at her eyes.

"I would love to," Terry smiled sadly. "But I'm already ten minutes late for my next client."

She pressed her lips to Paula's.

"How about wings tonight?" Terry asked, smiling. "I'm going into wings withdrawal."

"Eight?" Paula asked, letting out a laugh of joy.

"Dead End?" Terry affirmed.

"Okay!" Paula agreed, then ran to her Mustang.

Terry entered her salon through the front door and smiled apologetically to her client.

Chapter 21

"Sonny, come see," Paula said, patting the cushion next to her.

"What's up?" Sonny asked, irritated.

He wanted to work on his truck; ever since installing the glass pack, it did not sound right and his gas mileage had dropped to nearly ten miles to the gallon. He knew 'come see' meant that Paula wanted to talk. And Paula's idea of talking usually lasted a good while.

"Sonny there's no easy way to say this so I'm just going to say it," Paula said, looking away.

"What is..." Sonny asked, hoping to hurry the conversation along.

"You um, you know how you been saying I'm uh, I've been kind of out of it?" Paula said, still looking away from him.

Sonny bit down his angry retort.

First she said she was just going to say it, but instead of just saying it, whatever 'it' was, she was sitting here, hemming and hawing and not saying anything at all.

Then, she was somehow trying to twist it around so that it was his fault, for pointing out that she was withdrawn, aloof, and emotionally unavailable.

"And I've kind of known for like a couple of years now but I been telling myself that that's not what God wants and, I mean, it's not like I'm religious or nothing; fuck, you know I'm not, but I do believe in God and...." Paula was droning on.

"Hey, uh, Paula, uh, this going to take long?" Sonny finally interrupted her mindless rambling.

Paula jerked her gaze to him, mouth open in shock.

Then her face hardened.

"No, no, Mr. Lambert; it's not going to take long; it's only going to take me two more seconds," Paula snapped.

"Thank God," Sonny interrupted her again.

"Get out," Paula said, getting to her feet.

"Wait, what?" Sonny asked.

"I was trying to find a nice way to tell you, but fuck that," Paula spat. "So, get out. Here, here's your ring back, the keys to the Mustang are on the table; it's your car, I don't want it."

She flung the engagement ring at him; he flinched and it bounced off of his forehead onto the hardwood floor.

She stomped upstairs, then slammed the door of the bedroom shut.

Numbly, he went into the garage, looked at his tool box, looked at his truck and wondered how long it would take him to do the adjustments the blog on the Internet had suggested.

"How long you think it'll take you to be out?" Paula asked, flinging the door of the garage open.

"I uh, I don't know," Sonny mumbled.

He looked at her; she had changed from her business suit to a short skirt and low cut sweater. On her feet were a pair of five inch heeled pumps. Even with the nearly fifty extra pounds, she looked like the girl he had asked to marry him and less like the bloated blob she'd become.

"Today's Tuesday," Paula pondered the question out loud. "Think by Friday?"

"Where are you going?" he asked, but she ignored his question.

"Can I ask you why?" Sonny asked, still numb.

"I was trying to tell you, Sonny, but you just had to cut me off.,. But fine, whatever; I'll tell you now. Because I'm gay, Sonny," Paula said, opening the door to her truck.

"You're what? No you're not!" Sonny protested.

He grabbed his crotch.

"Fuck! Much as you like this?Fuck! You even like it up the ass! You're not gay!" Sonny laughed.

"Whatever," Paula shrugged and started her truck.

"You're not gay," Sonny protested, still laughing in disbelief as she raised the garage door.

"Friday," Paula said and backed out of the garage.

Rosy was the only one there that Paula recognized; Tuesday nights were now 'Amateur Night' at the Dead End Bar. There were two burly bouncers present to keep the customers in line and to keep the peace between upset boyfriends or husbands and over-appreciative patrons.

"Wings, extra crispy," Rosy said, smiling widely as Paula strolled up to the bar.

Two of them," Terry smiled, holding up two fingers.

"And two diet cokes," Paula concluded their order.

The two sat and watched the would-be strippers. There were three of them; two college girls and a thirty-something housewife.

"I'm seriously thinking about cutting out this 'Amateur Night' shit out altogether; there's never more than four girls; they get tired out too quick, then the place just dies after that," Rosy commented as she put their plates down.

"The red head's pretty good," Paula observed.

"Yeah, she does about two or three sets, then her husband texts her and she's out of here like her ass is in serious trouble," Rosy said.

Even though the wings were still smoking from the deep fat fryer, Paula made quick work of the meal, gasped, then guffawed as a monstrous belch bubbled out.

"Paula! Really!" Terry giggled.

Without their friends there, Paula and Terry had no reason to stay in the dingy, dimly lighted bar, had no reason to tolerate the cigarette smoke or the stench of spilled beer. With a wave to Miss Rosy, they left the bar.

Outside, Paula leaned Terry against the side of her truck and put her arms around the slender blonde.

"So, um, Sonny's probably still at my..." Paula murmured, running her finger up Terry's thigh.

"Paula, we just got back together," Terry said softly, gripping Paula's hand.

She kissed Paula's cheek softly.

"I, we, I'm not just going to jump back into bed with you," she murmured. "God, I want to! You can't believe how bad I want to, but..."

She kissed Paula's lips softly.

"Baby, I've kind of changed; I'm not the same girl fell in love with you before," Terry said.

"So, um..." Paula said, eyes filling with tears.

"Come over to my place tomorrow night," Terry whispered, kissing Paula again.

"I'll cook us something nice and light," Terry said, again kissing Paula.

"Open some wine; I bought a couple of bottles of that crap you like," Terry said, kissing Paula again.

"Hey!" Paula protested; Terry giggled. "It's not crap!"

"Tastes like fingernail polish remover," Terry laughed.

"I love you; I love you so much," Paula said, losing herself in Terry's laughter.

"I love you too," Terry admitted.

"Then why can't we..." Paula whined.

"I love you enough to let you hurt me," Terry said.

"Hurt...? Why would I want to...?" Paula asked.

"Maybe tomorrow night," Terry said and lightly licked Paula's lips.

Epilogue: Sonny seemed unable to accept Paula's decision and spent quite a bit of time and money trying to persuade her to abandon her choice.

Finally, over a few beers, quite a few beers, Michael Trahan, his co-worker and friend proved to be a better friend than Sonny had realized.

"So, let's say, just for the sake of argument, you do win her back?" Michael asked.

"Uh huh," Sonny agreed.

"Then what?" Michael asked.

"What you mean?" Sonny asked.

"Man, dude, you're just going to spend the rest of your life wondering if she's just going to come home and tell you again to get out; she wants to be gay," Michael said.

Sonny sat, mulling this over in his beer soaked brain.

"You know you'll always be wondering, 'is this the day she tells me getting out; my girlfriend's moving in' and damn, man! Who the fuck wants to live like that? No, no, man, just cut her loose. Too many non-rug munching bitches out there to be all hung up on this one," Michael said, opening up yet another beer.

*

Alberto absolutely loved the four cats; Courtney, Clint and Bruce tolerated him; he was much larger than they were.

Janet, however, was enamored with Alberto. When Terry and Alberto left for their run, Janet would sit in the front window and yowl pitifully until she saw them returning to the condo.

Then, of course, she would 'ignore' Alberto when he came in, tongue lolling out. Woe to him, though, if he ignored her. She would pounce on him, then dash behind the couch, safely out of reach.

At night, Courtney, Client and Bruce climbed into the bed, taking their positions around the periphery. Alberto decided that a ratty old blanket shoved into a corner of the room was his bed. Janet decided that the blanket was her bed too.

Paula loved having Terry home again; Sonny had hated when Paula would try to sleep with her head on his chest. Terry admitted, it had been hard to sleep alone the first few nights after their break-up. She loved having Paula's head on her chest as they slept.

*

Marlene and Charlene bought Terry's house.

Within three months of selling the house, Terry had to set up and automatic garnishment of their paychecks; the bank threatened foreclosure on the loan she'd co-signed.

"Forget to pay the light bill again?" Charlene screamed at her older sister, standing in their pitch-black living room.

"No! Maybe!" Marlene screamed back.

*

The first twenty pounds came off easily enough, but Paula found taking off any more weight almost impossible. She's also finding out, it's a lot harder to keep it off.

Part of the problem, Paula knows, is the gallons of vanilla ice cream and pints of butterscotch sauce she and Terry consume.

"Oh that's so cold!" Terry groaned as Paula dropped a scoop of vanilla ice cream directly onto Terry's pussy.

"I'll warm it up," Paula promised, drizzling some sauce onto the melting ice cream

The End.

Thank you for reading my stories.

JimBob44
JimBob44
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AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

Honestly, love your story as always, but kinda wish terry found someone else, someone better. How Paula did her wasn’t right and she deserved a lot better than that in my opinion

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

I like the way you write.

The racism is something else though.

Sincerely, a black lawyer from Africa

AnonymousAnonymousover 3 years ago
Oh look

Paula got her subservient pet back. And a dog as well.

Not up to your usual high standards. By the end of this, I really didn't care about any of the characters. They had none of the warmth or personality of your other characters. I didn't care what happened to anyone in this, which is a new experience when reading one of your stories.

Oh well, thanks anyway.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 4 years ago
Amazing

I've read all of your stories for this particular series. I thoroughly enjoyed it all. I just have this thought in my brain about Sonny. His change in behavior towards Terry over the business incident seemed too harsh and too quick. And he seemed to hold the grudge from left field. I don't know his character vibe from the beginning and towards the end had me feeling like they were two different characters. Had it been Micheal I think I could have believed it more but it just seemed out of character for Sonny. But hey your story just as I read that thought wouldn't stop bugging me.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 4 years ago

I not only enjoyed Part 3 But 1 and 2 as well. The whole story was excellent reading.

Well written. Thanks

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