Mac and Me

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"I was up at my Mom's," I said in a guilty voice.

"I went home and ate your cookies for Christmas dinner, and they go great with Bloody Mary's" Mac said. "The peanut butter cookies with the kisses on top go good with beer."

"Anyway," Mac continued. "You started talking more and more to me, and I got the idea that you were interested in me. When I would catch you looking at me my whole body would tingle with excitement. I knew you were really shy so I finally made the first move by asking you out shopping last week. I felt so good to be near you, just being able to spend time with you, and I felt so proud to be walking alongside of you."

"I enjoyed it too," I said.

"Remember this?" Mac asked as she reached into her jeans and pulled out a slim wallet. She reached inside and pulled out a little gift card.

A silly little tag with a kitty popping out of a box, it was the tag I had put on her tin of cookies, and on the inside I had written; To Mac. Happy Holidays. Love, Abby. "This is my mood elevator. Whenever I feel down I look at this and I feel better. I've taken this out to look at it so many times it's wearing out," Mac said softly.

"I'm sorry," I said as I lost any handle on my emotions. "Nobody ever."

"Nobody ever felt like this toward you?" Mac asked, and I nodded. "Maybe they had and you didn't see. Maybe you saw and shut them off. You couldn't tell how I felt about you and it's so plain to see, that I'm surprised nobody on the bus has said anything yet."

"But I'm not a, you know," I said as I struggled for words. "I'm not anything."

"I don't know what you are Abby, but you aren't nothing," Mac said sharply. "You're all I ever think about these days. I think you're very special, and I think I could help get you to figure that out for yourself too, if you gave me the chance."

"How?" I asked her.

"Let me take you out on a date," Mac said. "An actual date, dinner and a movie or dancing."

"I don't know how," I admitted.

"You don't know how to what? Eat, watch a movie or dance?"

"Dance."

"Who does?" Mac said. "You obviously like music, so just hop around like most everybody else does and enjoy yourself. Give it a chance. Give me a chance. We'll go to a movie instead if you'd rather. Anything you want to do. If, at the end of the night you decide you don't like me, that's fine. I swear I won't attack you again."

"You didn't attack me," I told Mac. "I just got startled. And I do like you, no matter what."

"Great! Well, how about it? Us. Saturday night. Seven o'clock?"

I heard myself agreeing with Mac, and after that was settled I walked her to the door.

"I remembered this time," Mac said holding up the magnet and leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek before skipping out the door.

I waited at the door until Mac's tail lights disappeared around the corner before closing the door behind me, wondering what in the world was happening to me.

...

Chapter 7. Date night.

I took a taxi to the mall Saturday, where I got my hair cut and ended up at the Gap, of all places. They must have laughed their asses off after I left, but I ended up getting a dress that looked halfway decent on me.

When I got home I had to hustle to get ready, but I did manage to shave my legs without bleeding to death. I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered why I looked so much worse now than I did in the dressing room. The damn thing was so short it showcased my bony knees beautifully, as well as making me look even more flatchested than I already was.

A dash into my dresser had me searching for a Wonderbra that I had bought last year for some unknown reason. It helped a little, I supposed, and after accidently hosing myself down with too much cologne, I was as ready as I ever would be.

I looked out the window just in time to see Mac pull up in a vintage Mustang that was the deepest green imaginable. Mac got out of the car and my head spun as she crossed the street. She looked magnificent.

Mac was wearing a white pantsuit with a deep purple ruffled blouse underneath, and she was wearing makeup that made her incredible cheekbones look even more amazing. I ran to the bathroom and looked at myself as the doorbell rang, but there was no hope. They didn't make cosmetics that would help me enough, so I went to answer the door with my best happy face.

Mac was smiling when I opened the door, and her mouth opened for a second in surprise as she shook her head.

"Omigod Abby, you look so beautiful," Mac said as I stepped back to let her in.

"I do? I wish!" I said. "I was watching you cross the street and I freaked out."

"Scary face huh?" Mac cracked.

"No, you look so... striking."

"What was I struck with, a shovel?" Mac asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You know what I mean," I said with a little edge in my voice.

"Isn't it annoying when people go and put themselves down everytime you try to compliment them?" Mac asked with a devilish grin. "I hate that too."

"Guilty," I said sheepishly as I pawed at the rug.

"Like I was saying, you look beautiful," Mac repeated.

"Thank you, that's nice of you to say," I said with a grin. "And you do too. You look so... dynamic, is that a good word? You look like that woman that Sylvester Stallone was married to for awhile... Bridgitte Neilsen was it?"

"Hey, I'll take it," Mac said. "Not bad looking, but I might be able to out-act her. Ready to go?"

"Ready."

"I made reservations at a place that has great Italian food. Is that okay?" Mac asked.

"Fine by me," I assured her, although my stomach was so tied up in knots I wasn't sure how much I could eat.

"You're wearing a dress," Mackenzie noted as we exited my place. "And your legs are most definitely amazing."

I smiled, and was about to answer when one of my neighbors was coming up the stairs as we left, and we exchanged pleasantries in passing. I wondered whether she had heard Mackenzie's comment, and the thought crossed my mind that maybe she knew we were going out on a date or something. I barely knew most of the people in the building, so they were used to seeing me alone.

"How many vehicles do you have anyway, Mackenzie?" I asked as I hopped into the car, where the inside was just as beautifully restored as the outside.

"Well, there's the pickup truck, my Harley..."

"You have a motorcycle?" I asked incredulously.

"You like them?" Mac asked.

"Yeah, but they're a little scary," I admitted, never having ridden on one even when the opportunity had presented itself one time.

"That's part of the fun," Mac said before continuing. "And then there's this one. My baby. It's the one I use to impress people."

"It worked on me, because I love it. What is this, a 66'?"

"Abby, I'm shocked," Mac exclaimed. "You know cars?"

"Actually it was a guess," I admitted. "I knew someone who had one of these back in high school, but it wasn't anywhere near as nice as this. This looks like it just rolled off of the assembly line."

"I put everything I had into this," Mac said.

"You do all the work yourself?" I asked.

"Most, but not all," Mac said. "Keeps me off the street corners at least.

The restaurant Mac chose was a quiet little Italian place that the bus went by everyday, but I had never been in. It had red and white checkered tablecloths and looked like the kind of place that was family owned and operated.

That suspicion was confirmed when, after the waitress had taken our drink orders, a little old man came out from the kitchen and strolled over to our table carrying a violin.

"Ah Mac!" the little guy said with a lilt in his voice. "I thought maybe you don't like me no more or something! Where you been my darling?"

"Michael, how are you?" Mac said as she shook his hand. "Never be mad at you my man. No fun eating out alone though. What's cookin'?"

"For you, anything and everything!" Michael said. "Who's your pretty friend?"

"My pretty friend is Abby," Mac said, and I shook Michael's hand as the drinks came.

"Pleasure to meet you, my pretty one," Miichael said. "What would you like me to play for you?"

"Paganini!" Mackenzie announced and looked to me for approval, and since I had no idea who or what Paganini was, I nodded.

"Oh Mac, I'm but an old man, but I give it a try," Michael said, and I watched as his old, gnarled fingers danced on the strings. His bow made his aged and weathered violin sing such beautiful music that chills ran down my spine as he brought the piece to an end with a flurry.

"Eh, I make a bunch of mistakes," Michael said after he finished the short piece, and nodded around the room to the other tables where the diners around us were applauding.

"That was so nice," I said to Mackenzie after Michael left our table to visit the other tables.

"Yeah, he's had this place for years and years," Mackenzie said. "It's like every stereotype you can imagine in one place, but the food is good and it's got a nice atmosphere."

"I think it's wonderful!" I said as I dug into a mussel before pronouncing it excellent.

The entire meal was wonderful, and my initial discomfort was long gone by the time the check came. Our conversation never flagged for a minute, and I found myself almost melting before the woman across the table. She was witty and funny and charming, and when her hand came over and patted mine during the meal, I didn't recoil from the touch and even returned it.

We had been in the place for well over two hours, and the time had flown by so fast that to me it seemed like we had just gotten there when Mackenzie suggested that we might want to leave before they locked us in for the night.

"How much do we owe?" I asked as the check came.

Mac slipped a credit card into the slot of the bill jacket and smiled.

"Next time you can pay, Abby," Mackenzie said. "That'll scare you out of doing this with me again!"

"Wanna bet?" I said. "I'm having a wonderful time."

"My original plan was to go out and do a little dancing, but I think we might have eaten ourselves into something a little more sedentary," Mackenzie said, and I agreed, not really looking forward to trying to dance anyway.

We drove to another place at the other end of town, yet another that I had gone by in passing for many years yet had no clue about what it was.

It was a piano bar, and a middle aged woman was just sitting down and getting ready to play when we walked in the door. There were only a handful of people in the place as we found a couple of stools at the end of the horseshoe shaped bar.

The piano player nodded at Mackenzie when we had come in, and the guy behind the bar greeted her like an old friend too. After Mackenzie introduced me to him, he asked her a couple of questions about a motorcycle before heading off to wait on someone else.

The lights were low as the piano began tinkling, and it was a nice relaxed atmosphere to unwind in after our meal, so I spun my stirrer around in my vodka and tonic as I looked around the place.

"Do you know everybody in the world?" I asked Mackenzie softly.

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" Mackenzie said. "That's not necessarily a good thing, you know. There's also a big difference between having acquaintances and friends."

"I guess," I agreed. "Do they have a singer here too?" I asked while pointing to the microphone opposite the piano player.

"Not usually, but if you want to sing something, you can," Mac said. "Lee's really good about that kind of thing, and she probably knows any song you can think of."

"You Really Got Me?" I said timidly.

"I'll ask her," Mac said and I jumped up to stop her before realizing she had been kidding.

"No, I think I'll hold off on my debut for now," I said. "Feel free to go up and sing a tune though."

"Maybe I will after a drink or two," Mac answered, and after the piano player had played a couple more songs, Mac slid out of her seat and went up behind the piano player and whispered in her ear.

As I sat in shock, Mackenzie went over to the microphone and was playing around with the height adjustment to bring it up to her level.

"Hey! Mac's back," a voice called out from the darkness of the back of the room. "Must be time for My Funny Valentine!"

"Test... test," Mackenzie said. "I remember that voice, and there's only one drunk in town who thinks it's February. How ya doin' Willie?"

The voice in the darkness roared with laughter as Mackenzie adjusted the microphone and spoke.

"I want to sing a song for my very special friend Abby, the pretty lady at the bar," Mac said, and I was glad it was dark enough so that people wouldn't see that the pretty woman Mac was referring to was supposed to be me.

The woman at the piano played very softly, and while I didn't recognize the song at first, I surely did when Mac's raspy, sultry voice came in.

"Summertime - and the livin' is easy," Mac sang in a voice that was both rough and soft at the same, and she sounded so much like Janis that I was startled when instead of Sam Andrew's guitar solo, the piano played.

All the time Mac sang she was looking at me, through me. As for me, I was in a daze. When the song began I was hoping Mac wasn't so bad that people would laugh at her, and here I was hanging on every word, hearing the song I had listened to 1000 times - for the first time.

Even though the room was dimly lit, Mackenzie looked stunning standing there next to the piano, caressing the microphone as she disappeared into the lyrics. Her blonde hair looked dazzling, her eyes sparkled, and she looked so amazing that you would have thought she was a professional entertainer.

When Mac ended the song, singing "Hush little baby, don't you cry," it was way too late for me, because tears were rolling down my face. Mac got a nice cheer from the crowd, and when she came back toward the bar I was on my feet jumping up and down, and I didn't even realize that I had practically jumped into her arms when she rejoined me.

"Don't cry, Abby," Mac said as she me eased back down into the stool. "It couldn't have been that bad!"

"Sorry," I sniffled. "That was so beautiful."

"Must be the wine," Mackenzie said. "Want another drink?"

Mac's fingers were on my wrist, and her touch felt warm and soothing. I was no longer jumping at every contact, and I had stopped looking around to see if anybody was watching me.

"No," I said haltingly. "I'd - like to go home."

"Tired?" Mac asked.

I shook my head briskly, and my heart was racing as our eyes met, and Mackenzie's smile widened so much it lit up the room.

"Good," she said, tossing money onto the bar before leading me to the door.

...

Chapter 8. Back to my place.

My front door closed behind us, and as I turned the lock the clicking sound seemed to echo in my ears just as Mackenzie moved me gently against the wall, kissing my neck and working upward. When her lips met mine I no longer worried about whether I could kiss or not.

The countless hours I had spent practicing on my pillow years ago, and on the back of my hand as I fantazied about someday being with my own Prince Charming, were worthless now. Mackenzie's mouth enveloped mine, our tongues were meeting, and all I knew how to do was return her affection.

We were working our way down the hall and towards my bedroom, and Mackenzie's hands were undoing and unhooking everything I was wearing without any resistance, so by the time we found our way to the side of my bed I was down to bra and panties. Mac had lost her blazer on the way, and while I tried to find buttons on her blouse, Mac was deftly unhooking my wonder bra.

I was preparing to apologize for what was being revealed, but Mac gave me no time for that as her hands cupped my modest offerings, kneading and squeezing the little orbs while my nipples popped out in response.

Now Mackenzie's hand was sliding under the elastic of my panties, and she let out a moan as her fingers raked through the forest that surrounded my opening. As Mackenzie's fingers explored, I began squirming in response, almost as if I was trying to mount her hand.

I was on my back somehow, and was now naked and scared. Mackenzie was kneeling next to me, unbuttoning her own blouse while she looked down at me with the sweetest smile I had ever seen.

"You're so beautiful," Mac said as her blouse came off, and I found myself believing her, because I had never experienced being looked at like this.

She leaned down and began nibbling at my breasts, which allowed me to reach around her and unhook her bra, or at least try to. Never having taken another woman's harness off, I found myself having a little trouble, mostly due to my shaking hands.

When I finally got the hooks loose, the bra lurched off of her. Mackenzie's breasts were amazing; large full globes that eased down within my grasp. How incredible they felt when my hands cupped them, and her nipples stood out like bullets the instant my palms touched them.

Mackenzie nibbled her way down my body, and then I felt her tongue parting my opening and doing magical, wonderful things inside of me. I was tearing and clutching at the sheets and I was cumming - an orgasm that came over me in waves - each one stronger than the next. Someone was moaning, almost screaming, and that someone was me. I finally had to pull Mackenzie from between my legs before I fainted, smothering her with hugs and kisses as my body continued to shudder and shake.

I wanted to do that to Mackenzie. I wanted to make her feel the way she had made me feel, and even though I didn't have the slightest idea what I was doing, that wasn't going to stop me. My hands attacked her breasts, kneading those magnificent globes while kissing and nibbling them all over.

I soon found myself between her legs, and the feel of the tiny patch of hair that surrounded her opening was so soft, that it felt like my cheeks were being caressed by a cloud. Her smell made me shiver - so different than my own - yet delicious.

I had a general idea of where to go and what I should do, and from Mac's reaction I wasn't doing too badly. I inhaled her aroma and drank her juices - more intoxicating than any happy hour concoction I had ever made, and when she came, I knew it.

Her thighs squeezed my head tightly and my face got wet when Mackenzie came, but I continued to lick her pearl until her grip on my head finally loosened. Even then, I took my time coming out of her delta, preferring to absorb everything I could with all of my senses.

I eventually made my way up to the top of the bed, taking a slow and serpentine route and allowed me to savor more of Mackenzie's beauty.

"Don't ask me if you did alright," Mackenzie said. "If you couldn't tell, then you truly have no hope."

"I wasn't going to," I lied.

"You look so different without your clothes," I said, my fingers dancing over her nipple.

"Different good I hope."

"I like the way you look both ways, but you have such an amazing body."

"I would tell you the same thing, but I'm afraid that you would put yourself down and ruin this moment for us," Mackenzie said, leaning over so that her nipple scraped against mine, making me quiver.

"Actually, I don't think I would have," I told her. "I feel so good right now, and you make me feel so comfortable about myself."

We talked for a long time, our hands exploring each other bodies and we eventually fell asleep in each other's arms. I slept like a baby - sleeping so soundly that it made me remember what sleep was supposed to be like. When I woke up the sun was rising, and after I went to the bathroom, instead of going back to bed I scrunched up in the chair beside the bed and looked at Mackenzie sleeping.

Having pulled the sheet down off of her when I got out of bed, I got to examine her body in equisite detail as the room became brighter. Mackenzie was so shapely, and so unlike what I had pictured her to be.