Ann: The Married Years Ch. 48

Mary Ann didn't go that far in her approach to a one-on-one sales experience. She wasn't about to lose a potential customer. Bonnie never worried about that kind of thing, knowing that if that guy really wanted to be with a specific girl he found exciting, he'd definitely come back. Mary Ann didn't have that luxury. Instead she encouraged her girls to try and make every shopping experience personal for the customers that came in, and if they made a connection, to follow up on it by offering a Bonnie's Touch appointment in the future.

Part of commemorating the legacy of Bonnie's approach was finding a way to continue some of the traditions of the brothel in the setting of a lingerie store. It helped that the theme of her store was on the periphery of what used to take place in the historic structure. Mary Ann often said they were still in the sex business, in a way. It was important to her to find ways to connect the two as often as possible.

At the entrance of the store there was a large, antique stand-up desk that had been there for as long as her mother Camilla could remember. It was originally used for the book that would log in the guests of the brothel. Men would enter, and they would have to sign in, going so far as to provide some type of identification in order to be with one of the girls. The girl selected would also write her name in the book to signify that they'd been with that person. It was designed for their protection in case an encounter turned violent. Mary Ann recalled her grandmother telling her they'd used one of the books to prosecute one man that physically assaulted one of their girls, and he ended up being convicted based on the evidence provided.

There were three books currently on the huge table top. The first was a guest book for customers, with a place to sign up to be added to the store mailing list to be sent sales promotions and flyers for upcoming how-to classes. There was even a quarterly newsletter, one of Ann's many impactful suggestions, called Selling Happiness; the line being one that Henrietta and Bonnie spoke often as the mission of the house itself. It was one that Mary Ann embraced when she started the store.

In it, there would always be two articles written by Camilla about the history of the house. One, literally called The History of the House would detail facts about the time it was a booming brothel. The other was titled Tales from the Mattress, and it was more anecdotal, offering colorful stories she'd heard from her mother and grandmother. She'd also write an article on the latest customer inspired creation that would become a new item in the store.

Ann would come up with the at least one theme in each of the upcoming months for one of the weekly Happy Humpday sales, and they would be list it in advance in the newsletter. She didn't like the idea of pigeonholing every single week that far ahead of time, so she'd simply pick one Wednesday each month to commit to it being a specific fantasy or fetish. The rest of the month would be determined by her gut feel for what products needed pushed in the store, or what feedback she was getting from interaction with the customers.

Mary Ann would write a column, called From the Madam, giving her take on sexual subjects of the day, using conversations with her customers that inspired her. She likened it to the kitchen table talk the girls of the brothel would have back in the day, finding enlightening viewpoints or fresh ideas regarding sexuality often came easier to someone that entered the infamous house. She loved the notion of sharing those insights with her beloved customers.

The second book at the entrance was for clients requesting Bonnie's Touch appointments to sign in. It was much like the one the actual prostitutes used, with a line to print and sign your name, as well as date and time visited, and another line for who they were seeing. Then there was a line for the sales associate to print and sign to show they served their customer.

The last book was exactly like the ones the girls used during the brothel era, and it was for guests that had signed up to use the Bordello Suite. It was part of the historical registry of the house. Yes, when Mary Ann started the store, she first worked to get the house added to the list of buildings of the local Historical Society. She kept track of all that used the room to continue the running total of sexual encounters that were recorded for prosperity sake. That running total would be updated on the front page of the quarterly newsletter, listing the number of happy encounters much like the number of burgers sold at a famous fast-food chain. Sometimes the number didn't change at all, because no one had booked the room, but it was a nice reminder that the brothel, as it were, was in a sense still active and operating.

Because that room was being used by Mary Ann and Charlie, and was going to be used soon by Camilla and her husband, it brought pleasant memories to Ann's mind. She'd signed that registry as the working girl numerous times, Neil always being the horny client wanting a memorable night with a professional, and he looked at her that way whenever they used it.

She was also a professional saleswoman, and she was nervous about having two personal shopper appointments after her shift was supposed to be over. Reconciling the situation in her naughty head, she likened it to what a busy day at the brothel would have been like, not wanting to leave a horny man without a proper experience. She just didn't know how she'd be able to do more than one at once.

That was until she remembered that Thelma got off work an hour before Bernice. Neil even let Thelma take off a bit early, telling her he'd cover for her at the end of the shift. That allowed Ann to take her time, working with her on what would fit her moods and show off her curvy body perfectly.

"I still can't believe you're doing this for me, Anna," Thelma called out from the dressing room as she tried on a bustier with the frilly skirt that went with it.

"Why would you say that? I've helped you before," Ann replied as she put together a couple of other ensembles on the other side of the closed curtain.

"Uh... I've never been in this place before."

"I know. I meant I've helped you with your wardrobe before. And I did that before I ever met you."

Ann was referring to the guidance she gave Thelma when she was still in Indiana planning their wedding. Neil had called her to ask if she could help his work partner out, and she'd found a way to update her closet from five-hundred miles away.

"My God... how could I forget that? You are such an amazing friend, Anna."

"Why do you keep calling me Anna?" she chuckled.

"Because I know what kind of mood you're in, and I know all about the names Neil uses for you."

"I'm not surprised."

"Are you upset about him telling me?"

"No. I'd be disappointed if he didn't. You two have been partners longer than he and I have in some ways."

"Well, good. Because I love you both."

"I love you too, Thel."

"I am sorry, though. I know you'd rather be sucking his big, fat cock right about now."

"What?" she giggled.

"Those were your words, not mine. But I know they're accurate. Seriously, does the man even own a pair of boxers?"

"Of course. He just doesn't wear them that often."

"Trust me, I'm aware. I swear, there are times he gets up from his desk after he gets off the phone with you, and I can see... well, I can see the veins throbbing. I'm surprised you can walk. The man is gifted."

"Hmm... that he is. Should I tell him to start wearing boxers?"

"Not on my account. I have wondered from time to time if his zipper is strong enough to contain that monster once it gets hard, but we all love the eye candy."

"We... what do you mean we?"

"Your husband has quite the reputation among the women on the production floor. He gets stared at quite a lot. Probably more accurate to say he's leered at, to be honest with you."

"Really," Ann replied, a jolt of pride swelling in her chest.

"Oh my God, yes. I'm sure he knows he's being drooled over, but he never acts like he does. He's the most unassuming guy I've ever met. That's a big part of what makes him so damn attractive. It's one thing to be drop-dead handsome like he is. It's another to not be conceited about it. But look who I'm talking to. You're the same way. You two should be movie stars. You're like a Hollywood power couple."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed.

"I'm being serious, Anna. I know you get leered at. You and Neil are such a striking couple."

Thelma's comments made her reflect. She'd spent days, if not weeks contemplating her new look, trying to come to terms with how she really felt about it. She'd finally made a heartfelt conclusion just that morning because of her talk with Felicia. Here was Thelma saying many of the same things... about her husband.

It was something she'd never considered; him being the object of other women's desires. True, she'd always held a secret hope that the women at his work could see and appreciate his enormous cock. It was one of the vainest things she'd ever had pop into her mind. That he didn't care, while she did spoke loudly, and it was a reflection of her own self-confidence.

"I dunno, Thelma. Based on what you just said, I don't think I'm unassuming about how I handle my appearance. I'm starting to think I'm a bit big-headed about who I look like right now. What was I thinking?" she griped at herself.

"Is this about the Jennifer Aniston thing? 'Cause I don't get it."

"You don't get that I look a little bit like her?"

"I don't get why it matters. You look like a hotter version of Anna Thomas," she said as she opened the curtain and stepped out.

Ann's jaw dropped open, before her wide grin appeared. "Holy fuck! You look fabulous!"

"What?"

"I just got a little wet, Thelma. You are fucking sexy!"

Thelma turned to look in a full-length mirror, her own mouth gaping in reaction. "Is that really me?"

"You know, if I were bisexual, I'd be thinking of ways to help you out of those panties."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure you are. You are, right? Neil wouldn't tease me about that, would he?"

Ann winked and said, "I very much am. And, you very much aren't. But my point stands. Vaughn is going to love you in that!"

"This must be how you feel all the time," Thelma said excitedly.

"What makes you say that?"

"You work here, silly. You get to dress up like this every day you work!"

"Ha! Yes. Yes I do."

Thelma slipped back into the dressing room to try on another sexy outfit, continuing her line of thought.

"I meant what I said about how you look, Anna. The fact that you can wear what you're wearing today without worry or a concern astounds me. Your new hairdo had nothing to do with that decision."

"I wouldn't say I don't worry about what I wear here. I actually second guess myself a lot."

"My point is you turn more heads because of your daring sense of fashion than you do because your hairstyle. Seriously, can you imagine Aniston... or any popular young actress having the nerve to wear what you're wearing in public?"

"Well, I'm not really in public. I'm at work, in a store that promotes this kind of wardrobe choice."

"You're at work at a store that promotes wearing that out in the working world. Didn't Mary Ann say you walked to the bank downtown today? That's about as public as it gets."

"Oh yeah... I did, didn't I," she smirked. "Although working world is a bit of a stretch. I wouldn't get away with this at Armada."

"Maybe not, but if anyone could it would be you. Whatever you wear, you do it with such confidence. It's taken me so long to get comfortable in my own skin."

Once again the curtain parted, and she burst through like a runway model wearing another lingerie package that accentuated her voluptuous body perfectly.

"Whoa!" Ann exclaimed. "You've arrived, Thel!"

Checking her look in the mirror, she actually nodded. "Yes I have," she shined.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ann was just finishing ringing up Thelma's purchases when the chime on the front door rang.

"Hi Gary," she called out to the handsome man who was writing his name in the register book for use of the Bordello Suite.

"Hello, Anna," he chimed back. "Thanks for lighting a fire in Camilla today. It's been a while since we've been upstairs. Where's my concubine?"

Camilla eased down the narrow staircase wearing a bustier and panty set of her own. "I'm a harlot, Mr. Greene. You need to get your vernacular correct."

She took the pen from his hand, giving him an erotic kiss before she signed her name next to his. Taking his hand, she led him upstairs. "Come with me, sweetie. Time for me to do that thing your wife doesn't like doing for you."

"I love this place," he sang happily as they disappeared out of view.

"What was that all about?" Thelma asked.

"That's Camilla. She's the one that designs and makes a lot of our special outfits. She made the bustier you bought... and the one she was wearing."

"Okay... but who's Mr. Greene? And why are they going upstairs?"

"Camilla is Mary Ann's mom. She co-owns the store with her. Henrietta was her grandmother. And she's about to keep the family legacy alive."

Mary Ann appeared with her husband Charles, having finished shortly before. She kissed her husband at the foot of the stairs, and patted him on the ass lovingly as he turned to leave.

Ann nodded toward her. "And there's Mary Ann, who just did the same thing. They probably passed the baton in the hallway upstairs."

"I'm still not sure what you're talking about. Are they really... you know?"

"We have a room upstairs that Mary Ann never changed. It's still the way it was when they shut down the brothel. We offer it as part of a promotional package. I'll get you a pamphlet on your way out. You can use it with Vaughn sometime if you want."

"I... okay. But are they? Did Mary Ann?"

"That was Mary Ann's husband, Charles. And her mom and dad are upstairs right now. That's what this house does. It sells happiness."

"Wow. This is a lot to take in," she chuckled. "What was Camilla saying about what his wife won't do? She's his wife."

"She doesn't really like anal sex," Ann shrugged, "but for whatever reason, she'll do it in that room. But only in that room. She actually makes him pay for it."

"This place is eye opening. I can't thank you enough for helping me," Thelma smiled as she took her bags from Ann.

Ann kissed her on the cheek. "You're welcome, Thel. I'm so glad you finally stopped in. I want you to have a great time on your vacation."

"Oh, I will. I can't wait to spring these on Vaughn. He's gonna flip out. I might end up spending the entire time on my back."

"Speaking of which, let me get you that pamphlet so you sign up for a package and become one of Henrietta's girls."

Before she left, Ann confirmed that Thelma was still going to come by Saturday to participate in the oral sex class. She had no more than said goodbye when Bernice walked through the door. It was during that extensive appointment that the storm came racing through the area.

The downpour didn't diminish the experience for Bernice. She was thrilled with how Ann worked with her, not only finding lingerie and sexy around-the-house wear, she also tried on a lot of work clothes that totally changed her mental outlook as soon as she looked in the mirror. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew Ann had been right all along. She was dressing as she thought she should in order to succeed in a male dominated profession, and it ended up working against her.

Worse, the depression that set in had started to impact her relationship with her husband, John. The visit from Ann a few months before got her thinking. In a round about way it was a lifeline, but she failed to capitalize on it.

Procrastination had always been her Achilles heel. Plus, she knew she had made Ann's life miserable when she worked for her at the bank. She was the reason Ann quit, which in turn was the reason she got demoted. There was no reason to believe Ann had been serious, other than the fact that she knew her to be an honorable person.

Still, calling out of the blue or just showing up at Ann's store seemed preposterous. She was paralyzed by the fear of being rejected, which would end her hope of getting her life back on track. Yet by not acting, she was giving in and accepting things were never going to change.

It was seeing Ann in line at the bank that gave her the courage to finally act. Bernice had recognized her distinctive laugh when she was chatting with Charles. She certainly wouldn't have recognized her right away from her appearance; the change in her hairstyle made her do a double-take.

She considered Ann daring and adventurous; wearing her love of life on her sleeve, whenever she bothered to wear one. When Bernice looked at Ann away from the myopic view of how she'd dressed when she was employed at the bank, she realized she was a model employee. She was smart and personable. She was dedicated and punctual. She was accurate and accountable. And Bernice came to realize Ann was all those things and more in large part because of what she wore. It gave her confidence and self-esteem.

Bernice could have said most of the same things about herself that she could now admit about Ann in hindsight. The ones that lacked were those last two. Bernice had little confidence and her self-esteem had hit rock bottom.

When she realized it was really Ann in the line, she jumped at the chance to solve her problems. She almost backed off, finding the notion of asking for help from someone she'd treated so horribly too much to bear. Yet Ann wouldn't let her. She'd apologized, and Ann willingly accepted it. And that wonderful gesture was already having a positive impact on her.

Staring at herself in the same mirror Thelma had used, she marveled how she looked in the sheer lavender negligee.

"That color looks incredible on you, Bernice," Ann opined.

"I never would have thought that, but it does," she replied candidly. Turning, she sighed. "I don't know how to begin to thank you, Ann. This is so overwhelming what you're doing for me."

"Stop thanking me, Bernice. I'm happy to help... and no, it's not because it's my job."

"I know. I'm sorry for thinking that way. It's just so hard to believe you're so gracious in forgiving me. I was a real bitch to you."

"But that's in the past. Let's talk about the future. We're working on your wardrobe, but what's going on with you and John. How can I help there?"

"Well, this is going to go a long way, I hope. Not to mention the class you're going to have on Saturday."

"Let's not hope, and let's not wait until Saturday. What's your mindset? What's keeping you from acting on how you're feeling right now?"

"Fear?" she replied quickly.

"Fear of what?"

"That he's going to wonder why I'm doing this."

"I don't think that's it at all. I think it's fear of change itself. It's not easy to do."

"Says the woman that pulled off that hairstyle."

"Good point. Let's talk about that."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Neil carried Owen into the house and put him on the floor. The youngster took off racing for his bedroom, coming back out with a toy truck. Neil turned on the TV, and put a video on for him; the little guy plopping down on the floor to watch and play.

Walking to the French door, Neil looked out to the west. "Storms coming," he said to himself as he stretched his body.

It had been a long day at work, and he'd had a few more things to do before he'd gotten to leave, having covered for Thelma. He didn't mind. She'd done the same for him countless times. It felt good to reciprocate.