I'm Dating Our Mailgirl Ch. 15

I certainly had no objection, but I looked to nine. She didn't seem thrilled with the prospect, but she reluctantly said, "Alright, I can't think of anyone I'd rather not, you know, with than you, five." It was polite banter, but there was an underlying statement that she wasn't interested in having sex with five nor of five having sex with her or her lover.

The three of us moved to the bed. Logistics dictated that I be in the middle. It was uncomfortable trying to snuggle with both women but nine made it easier. She took my arms and placed them around five. Five smiled from ear to ear. Then as if to say she was all in on this arrangement, nine draped her arms over my body.

At about 3:00 I felt the urge to pee. I didn't want to disturb nine, so I tried my best to climb over five. I though I had succeeded, but after emptying my bladder, I needed to evacuate my bowels - I needed to take a shit. I was wiping my asshole when five came in. There wasn't much "coming in" necessary, as the toilets were out in the open in the shower area. She sat down on a bench and politely asked, "Can I come it?" I had to laugh.

"I guess next time I should shut the door." Poor naive five, she though I was putting her down and didn't realize I was making a joke at the expense of the complete lack of privacy among the mailgirls.

"I'll leave if you want me to."

"No, if the smell of my shit hasn't driven you away, you can stay."

"Monica, do you remember how last night the girls were joking about getting Joyce naked at the Christmas party?"

"I'm still trying to figure out how I can do that. One thing I know is I can't just ask her to take off her clothes, not here in the warehouse."

"I can get her naked."

"How?" She looked around to make sure everyone was asleep and no one could hear our conversation.

"I already have, once."

I laughed, "You didn't get her naked. Joyce just decided she wanted to take her clothes off."

"Yes, but she did. And she did it in front of me, there on the 42nd floor dining room. I can convince her that she wants to take her clothes off here in the warehouse, in the middle of our Christmas supper."

"Don't be so presumptive of your enticing powers, young lady. Let's make it interesting. If you can do it, what do you want as your prize?"

"Take me to the Blush N Blu. I've heard you and nine talk about it so much. And the time seven and eleven went with you they came back with wonderful tales."

"You do know that it's a lesbian bar."

"Yes, but I don't have to do, you know." She continue our code speak of referring to cunnilingus as 'you know'.

"Alright, but I'm going to up the stakes to make our little bet really interesting. If you can't get her to take off her clothes, you'll let me set you up on a blind date. I mean a blind date with a lesbian."

She smiled and barely suppressed a squeal. "Oh, it sounds so naughty. Will it be with you? or nine? or maybe even Joyce? I think when I get ready to, you know, I would want it to be with one of you."

"Don't get so excited! No, I have someone else in mind. Someone that I know is really infatuated with you but is much to shy to come out and ask you for a date. She doesn't want you to shoot her down."

"I would never do that. Is she as good looking as you or nine?"

I put on a look of mock indignation, "Of course not, who is? Seriously, she is an attractive woman."

"Is she mature like Joyce?"

"Five, what's with you and this fixation with Joyce. Where is that coming from. You do realize that but for the fact you are no longer seventeen, she is not twice you age, but she is three times you age. She's not only old enough to be your mother, she could be your grandmother."

"But she treats me like my grandmother does. She's very kind to me. She's always looking out for me?"

"What planet do you live on? I've already cataloged all the berating you've had to endure at her hands. She considers you worse than dog shit."

"No, Monica, she may think that about all the other mailgirls, but she thinks I'm special. She let me sit at your table tonight"

"I let you sit at our table."

"She gave me chocolate cake."

"She made you eat it like a dog."

"I don't think you're being fair to her. Why are you dating her?"

"SHE BLACKMAILED ME INTO DATING HER."

"Yes, but you both enjoy the relationship, don't you?"

I gave up. She was right. What an incredible Pollyanna. I finished wiping my ass and we returned to bed. I crawled back in the middle, wrapped my arms around nine and then five crawled in and wrapped her arms around me. But soon, I felt a hand caressing the inside of my thigh, I lifted the top thigh, and sure enough the cleared passage allowed the hand to probe my pussy. I couldn't comfortable return the favor. My arms weren't octopus-like so they could accomplish that mission. Five's method was slow and enticing. I wondered how she learned that technique. After awhile she achieved her goal of bringing me to climax. It was everything I could do to keep from crying out, from flailing my arms and legs about in ecstasy. But somehow I came back down to earth. With an effort, I twisted my head around and whispered in her ear, "Thank you. I so want to return the favor, but I can't risk arousing nine."

She kissed me, "That's alright. Making your come was enough of a thrill for me, at least for now. Maybe someday soon we'll experience more." We fell asleep.

Nine got up at 6:00 along with eight who also had Saturday duty. Food service did not bring fresh hot gruel on weekends, but the girls would be able to satisfy their hunger in the fishbowl. I wished there was something I could cook breakfast with, utensils, a refrigerator, a stove, even a hot plate. Nine and eight attended to their toilet and soon left for the Seahawk building in time to make it to the fishbowl by 7:00. I had no clothes and I needed to go with them, either to get into my car and go home or to retrieve an outfit in my office or possible, if I was daring, one of my outfits in Joyce's office.

My adrenaline must have been flowing, I went to Joyce's office. As I suspected, it was locked. Then I heard someone else. I looked around, and there was Rose. I nonchalantly greeted her in my nudity, "Well, you're working bright and early this Saturday morning before Christmas." Without commenting, she looked me up and down.

"I'm not going to say a thing."

I replied, "Good, cause neither am I." I did explain what I was doing.

"You don't have a key to Joyce's office?"

I treated the situation lightly, "She has given me complete access to her heart and her cunt, but not her clothes closet."

Without any explanation, she moved away toward her own office. She came back in 5 minutes with a key chain. "Here." She unlocked the outer door, the clothes closet was not locked. I retrieved a serviceable dress, put it on and started to leave. "I'm going to get some breakfast for the mailgirls. Do you want to join me?"

Her response would be key. Was a chance to see five and perhaps to feed her from the palm of her hand enough to override her antipathy for the mailgirls and the prospect of spending breakfast with them. Never mind that they would probably be in various states of dishabille. Lust won out. "Sure, where are you going to go?"

"I figure I can get a good variety from Panera and I think they have cartons of coffee to go." I led her to my car in the parking garage and we drove to the drive-thru. I got thirty different items which provided a wide assortment of choices, If the girls didn't mind eating what had been picked over on the first round, they could enjoy a second item. We bought breakfast wraps, and sandwiches, scones, bagels and plenty of cream cheese, and fruit cups. I got a hazelnut coffee tote and a dark roast. They gave me enough utensils and sugar and cream to feed an army.

We got back to the warehouse and the girls were all shocked to see Rose walk through the door. There wasn't the glee that accompanied my entrances, but the girls were polite. I put the breakfast on the table and they all flocked around. Rose, ever gracious, stayed back until the girls each got their fill. As an ironic tribute to the absent Olivia, I fixed myself an everything bagel loaded with cream cheese. "Five, don't be rude. Ask Rose if you can get anything for her." While we were gone, five had put on a pair of gym shorts, and nothing else.

"Miss Rose, can I get you something?"

"Oh, just use your own judgment. Whatever the girls don't want will be fine with me." She brought Rose an avocado, egg white and spinach brioche. Not what I would have fixed for myself, but what the heck.

"Rose, you know how shy five has always been in the fishbowl?" She smiled recognizing the sarcasm. Five, the entertainer, had been anything but shy. "Five and I have been working on helping her overcome her shyness. Isn't that right, five?"

She blushed and shuffled her feet. "Yes, ma'am. But it's hard for me."

"Nonsense. She has really been doing quite well in overcoming her bashfulness. Show Rose."

Five was stunned, "What do you mean?"

"I mean show her that you aren't the least bit embarrassed by exposing your, uh, flower." She put down the scrambled egg and cheese ciabatta and her coffee and with the proper amount of modest embarrassment but bold pride removed her shorts.

"Come and let Rose feel you smooth ass." I though Rose was going to orgasm on the spot.

Eleven rushed to five's defense. "Stop it, Monica. That's cruel. That's something worthy of Joyce, or even worse, Olivia."

I turned to five, "Do you mind, child?"

"No, no. Not at all. It's something I have to work on to be a good mailgirl. It's strange how I don't have any problem being naked all day and performing in the fishbowl, but it's just somehow different here."

"Rose, help poor five feel more comfortable. Feel her cunt."

Five looked frightened, "No, Ms. Monica. I haven't shaved it. It's got stubble growing."

"Don't be silly, Your cunt is a smooth as a baby's behind. Feel it, Rose. Tell her."

Rose appeared as frightened as five was, but she haltingly moved her hand gingerly to five's pussy and hesitantly ran her fingers over it."

"You're right. It still feels as if it's freshly shaven." Five casually resumed eating her breakfast. The whole while she had a contented smile on her face, but not nearly as contented as the smile on Rose's face.

Around 11:00 the little kaffeeklatch broke up. Rose said she would walk back to the office, I started to depart for my apartment. The girls adjourned to whatever it was that they did on their day off. They lined up for eight, the former beautician, to cut their hair.

PERFORMING MY CHORES

When I got home, I skyped Mama. She started off by admonishing me, "Were you checking to make sure I was still alive?"

"Mama, I'm sorry, but I've been so incredibly busy."

"Too busy for your Mama?"

"I'm sorry, but I need your help."

"I should have known you wanted something."

"I volunteered to make Christmas Supper for the mailgirls. Can you send me your recipes? You know the ones I need. I can handle the turkey and the ham, but I want your oyster dressing recipe, your broccoli casserole, sweet potato souffle and your banana pudding."

"Are you going to fix collard greens?"

"That might be just a little too ethnic for this group. Besides granny always said collard greens should never be prepared before the first frost. It's been a very mild fall here."

"I'll email those to you as soon as we get off this call. So what's up in your life."

"Joyce has hired four new mailgirls and she has asked me to provide their training."

"Well, that sounds like a nice feather in your cap."

"Not really, its more work for the same pay."

"Yes, but it's something you can put in your resume."

"I'm not looking for another job."

"Speaking of looking. How's your love life?"

"Just great."

"Are your still juggling nine and that woman Joyce?"

"I feel comfortable with both of them. And more importantly, they feel comfortable with the situation." I thought to myself, if Mama only knew how comfortable.

"There's no man in your life?"

"When would I have time for a man. Besides I don't need the drama of dating some testosterone filled man who would only regard me as a receptacle for his seaman."

"Those eggs aren't getting any younger."

"Mama, I'm only twenty-four. I've still got plenty of time for that." I didn't dare tell her that my desire for male companionship was slowly becoming non-existent.

"I really like nine, and if Joyce makes you happy, then I like her too, but they aren't going to give me a grandbaby. Have you ever heard of in vitro fertilization?" This conversation was going in a direction I didn't want to go.

"Well, what about you and Jill?"

"I'm worried." Uh oh, I thought to myself, Maybe it was too good to last. "I think she is going to give me an engagement ring for Christmas."

I squealed, "Oh, that's great."

"No it isn't."

"What do you mean? I though you two really hit it off."

"Yea, when she's only here 5 days out of the month."

"Is there trouble in paradise?"

"No, not really, but if we were to get married I'm afraid that would be too much of a good thing. Besides, what would the Daughters of the Confederacy and my Roswell chapter of the Junior League think?"

"Fuck 'em. The only thing that's important is your happiness."

"Jill's been doing some research. Technically, we could get married in Georgia, but there are a few technicalities. We could have a 'civil union', whatever that is. I think that sounds too much like a second class marriage and I wouldn't go for it. But we could get married in your state."

"For someone who is dreading getting an engagement ring, you sound like you've done a lot of planning."

"I don't know what to do, sweetie. But maybe I'm getting all worked up over nothing. Why would a young vivacious woman like Jill want an old bat like me." I hate it when Mama sinks into self pity. The answer to her question was, "for the same reason that a vivacious woman like me wants an old bat like Joyce." But I didn't say it aloud.

"I hope you're going to ask me to be your maid of honor."

"Yes, and nine can be the best man. Or I guess she would be the best person." We continued with the banter, then I announced, "I've got to go. I'll talk to you Christmas."

"Jill will be in New Orleans, but she'll flying in at 4:30 PM."

"Good, nine is working Christmas."

"What? Christmas?"

"Yes, but Joyce and I and all the mailgirls will be getting together when she gets off."

"We'll have a lot to catch up on. I'll talk to you then. Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I love you."

"You too. I love you. And you have a Merry Christmas. Say hello to Kyle for me. And to Jill."

LATE NIGHT READING

At the end of a busy day, I only had one more thing to do before going to bed. I turned on the computer and went to Google. I felt I had to find out more about this whole BDSM lifestyle if I was going to be drawn into it. I typed "BDSM lifestyle" into the search bar. Whoa! I was overwhelmed by the results. I narrowed the search down by "characteristics of behavior" and then by "motivations of subs". I scrolled through a long series of articles and then one jumped out at me: "My Life in the BDSM Culture" in City Magazine earlier this year by Toirésa Reid. Toirésa? That's not a name you see every day. I googled that name. "Toirésa - female Gaelic name, often shortened to Terri" Terri Reid! That would explain the beautiful Irish brogue. Apparently Wednesday night when Terri joined nine on the floor to help her eat her Christmas meal, it wasn't the first time she had assumed a humiliating position!

I was captivated by the article. She told of how she had a life as a subordinate to a married couple. She told of how the three of them shared each other. City Magazine is a mainstream magazine published locally. She couldn't get too graphic, but it wasn't hard to imagine what was going on with the three of them.

It was almost midnight, but I couldn't contain myself. I looked in my organizer, found Terri's telephone number and called her. "Hello."

"Terri, this is Monica Ross. I'm sorry to disturb you so late. Do you mind? Is it a bad time to chat for a few minutes?"

She appeared flustered, but composed herself to answer, "No. Not at all. I'm not tied up." I smiled at myself and thought, "She's fucking with my mind."

"I just came across your article in City Magazine about the BDSM lifestyle. I'm enthralled. I'd like to talk to you about it."

"It's rather late now. Are you doing anything tomorrow morning?"

I looked over at my empty bed, "No, not at all."

"How about brunch? 10:00 AM at Dazzle?"

I accepted her suggestion, "Great, I'll look forward to it."

"Will nine be joining us?"

"No, she's had an exhausting couple of days and I'm letting the dear get some rest."

She chuckled, "I'll bet you're capable of wearing her out."

"And her me."

"Or as those of us who respect the English language say, "and she I." She said it so charmingly and properly, how could I possibly take offense at what from anyone else would have been a put down. After all, she does make a living by using the English language. She continued, "Shall I bring a spare set of handcuffs? Or perhaps a leash and collar?"

"You're fucking with me, right?"

She responded with that charming lilting Irish laughter. "I just wanted to know how in-depth our conversation was going to be."

"We'll skip the implements for the time being. I'll see you there."

TO BE CONTINUED