Maxine's New Life Ch. 05

"Damn, Marty, I have been dying to meet you and see these bikes. This trip of yours is the talk of the forum." He suddenly turned his attention to me. "Geeze, you are beautiful as hell, Max. God, if I sell this place and roll out a couple of bikes, will you make the trip back from California with me."

I just grinned. I knew when to keep my mouth shut. I looked around the shop, while they talked about bikes in general. Of course, when Marty told the country store story, it was all his idea. I grinned to myself, since I knew it was just the way men's brains work. By that time, he actually believed that it had been his idea. I walked around looking into everything for almost half an hour while Marty made plans.

"Okay, Max, here is the plan. Steve has a rental car on the way for us to use for a few days. We are going to be here until both bikes are redone. In this case, redone means the mounts checked and all the bearings replaced. I have two new motors on the way over from the Honda warehouse. I figures two days downtime, starting tomorrow. So anything you want to do, take the rental car. I'll be here in the shop most of the time." Now even I knew it wasn't going to take two days to switch out those little 50cc motors, but what the hell, I could get a couple of good meals and maybe even get laid.

Since we didn't have to worry about storing the bikes, we checked into a really nice motel. Without luggage, we were a little suspect. Once they checked Marty's credit rating that ended quickly. We had the run of the place, which suited me just fine. After I went shopping, I stopped in the lounge for more than one drink that afternoon. Marty and I had a really nice dinner in the lounge after he got everything organized at the shop.

Bedtime wasn't as early as usual, but we still went back to the room together. We hadn't gotten past the buddy stage of our relationship, so we slept in separate beds again that night.

For a couple of hours on my first full day in Abilene, I lay by the pool drinking fruit things laced with rum. Unfortunately, I bore easily; the wives and kiddie club just didn't do it for me. After lunch, I moved on to the lounge which was just as boring as the pool bar. I was giving serious thought to a nap when I met Mark.

"Hello, beautiful lady," he said to me. I didn't even look around. I knew he was about to hustle me, or rather attempt to hustle me.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you have me mistaken for my sister. She is the beautiful one, I am the tomboy." Now he couldn't say that he hadn't been warned.

"No, no, it is you I see and I see beauty."

"That is sweet," I replied.

"Would you do me the honor of having lunch with me?" Here is where I really had to make a decision. Was he a kid who hadn't had a meal in a week and truly was in need or was he just a con trying to play me? He was dressed way to slick to be a kid down on his luck, so he was a con man. The trick when one plays with con men, is to one up them. Of course, it also helps if you are physically able to kick their ass. I figured I could do that no problem. Mark was a pretty boy. He most likely had thousands of dollars worth of dental work to protect.

"I really shouldn't, but this place is so boring." Well it was boring, otherwise I wouldn't have bothered with Mark at all.

"Oh well, if not this restaurant, where would you like to go?" he asked.

"I'm a stranger here, so you will have to decide. Something local, I think. I really don't care for cold shrimp in a bowl for lunch." If I left him with a bill he couldn't pay, I wanted some good old boy to rearrange his features, not some judge to slap him on the wrist.

"I know just the place," Mark suggested. I smiled demurely. Okay, I smiled as demurely as possible; after all, we are talking about me here.

Of course, his car was parked several blocks away. If my car was in the garage, it would be so much easier, according to him.

"It's not a problem," I told him. "I actually prefer to drive." If I was going to leave him with the bill, I also wanted to leave him no way to get away.

Mark was about 25 years old. Someone had mistakenly told all the worst con men in the world that middle-aged ladies just fell all over young studs. Well, maybe some middle-aged ladies did. Hell, I might if the young stud was a pretty blonde coed who had something I hadn't seen before. Don't get me wrong, I prefer men, but men are so much easier to come by. Any woman can dress slutty and go to any college bar in her hometown and get laid. A stiff prick has no taste.

The fancy Tex Mex restaurant had been written up in several magazines. I learned that from the cover of the menu. The owner had also been part of the top chef TV series. All that was supposed to justify fifteen bucks for a bowl of chili.

I ordered about a hundred bucks worth of food, and so did Mark. I was looking forward to the end game here. Just before dessert came, I excused myself. "Little girl's room you know," I told Mark. Then I walked to the car and drove away. As I left the parking lot, I wondered if I could get a copy of the surveillance tape. It should be a great show.

I was back at the motel watching TV when Marty and Steve arrived to take me to dinner. I expected to listen to them talk motors and motorbikes for the next four or five hours, but I didn't mind. I had nothing to contribute, there was nothing I wanted to learn, but I did genuinely like both of them. Steve, I knew only slightly, but he really seemed interested in our trip and Marty's welfare.

From what I could learn by listening, and what I could remember from riding the beast, the drive system was actually two different parts. One part was the Honda engine, of course. The Honda engine was about three times more expensive than the Chinese knock off of it. Whether it was worth the extra money depended on which one of them you listened to at that moment. Since the Honda had failed on me, I wouldn't have paid for another one and I made my opinion known, not that I expected either of them to listen to me.

The second part, and also the part of mine that was undamaged, was the actual drive wheel assembly. The wheel assembly was really a metal box with a pipe inside about an inch in diameter. It was all roughed up to grip the tire better. The reason for that was that the pipe was tensioned against the tire, so that when the motor turned the pipe, the pipe moved the tire forward. It was probably the simplest way to motorize a bicycle. Steve and his friends said was the least efficient and should be outlawed. Then guys like Marty said the system was simple to build, install, and maintain. If you did your research, you quickly found that the system was ideal. At least, that was according to Marty. The argument went round and round for the first hour we were at the private club. It was the club which Steve belonged to, and it was located on the outskirts of Abilene, Texas.

It reminded me too much of the Banker's Club back home. I wasn't miserable, but I also wasn't having much fun. At least not until Steve's wife arrived. Steve's wife was the county prosecutor. Since she had a trial going on, we were forced to wait for court to end for the day before she could head our way. I was irritated at the wait until she arrived.

Jo Anne Stevens, wife of Edgar Stevens, was a flat out gorgeous chick by anybody's standards. I mean, women who had obviously never had any part of another woman's body in their mouth stopped talking to watch her walk by. If I had been a man, I would not have been able to stand up for at least ten minutes. I had a feeling there probably were plenty of men in that condition.

I mean the woman wore a business suit, the kind lawyers wear to court, but she wasn't wearing it like she wore it to court at all. She wore it with a promise like a stripper might wear it. Sure you know it's a business suit, but dear God, the bitch is beautiful and in the spotlight. You just know that damn thing is coming off. The only question is whether the promise her eyes make you will be kept. Will she be as gorgeous as she promises?

Suddenly, the night at the stuffy club was looking up. Sure, I knew she would have to be nice in public, but was that private promise real or just wishful thinking. How the hell did a grease monkey get a woman like Jo Anne Stevens, Assistant District Attorney of Abilene, Texas?

After our introduction, I listened carefully to get answers so I wouldn't need to ask questions. Edgar Steve Stevens owned half a dozen different grease monkey type businesses. Three of them were those nationally advertised quick lube things. Those bastards are a license for the owner to steal. The poor bastards doing the work are bare minimum wage guys, while the owner pockets the real cash. Since they pump oil from a 55 gallon barrel, the tax bite isn't always as bad as it could be.

In addition to the quick lube joints, he owned the building where Marty's bike was being repaired and the tow business associated with it. He towed all the luxury cars in Abilene. Steve also owned two salvage yards. His salvage was more about scrap than recycling. If you wanted a part from anything on his yard, you had to find it and remove it yourself. Somehow, all of his endeavors made money. Oh course, not the kind of money that Marty made watching TV, but then nobody needed the kind of money Marty made. At least Marty knew enough to keep his finances to himself.

We spent another hour at the private club the Stevens family belonged to. After that hour, I was more than ready to move on to dinner. Dinner was at a very fashionable restaurant. I really didn't care much for fancy places, but the others seemed to be very much at home, so I just went with it.

"Well, since you don't work tomorrow, Jo Anne, what would you like to do tonight?" her husband asked.

"Well, these two have never seen a real Texas dance club and I bet Max there would be a big hit with your friends." She smiled sweetly at me, way too sweetly for comfort. For some reason, it looked as though Jo Anne had taken a dislike to me. Ah well, I thought she was gorgeous, but not so gorgeous that I would kiss her ass just to be a handmaiden. I came within a hair of saying, "I'm tired, you guys go on without me." I'm not quite sure why I didn't, but hell, I have a perverse sense of humor, as well as my flexible sense of right and wrong.

So after dinner we went out on the highway to a place that can only be described as a cleaned up cattle barn. Yes, it was like lipstick on a pig, but there were a lot of people packed into the place. Jo Anne and Steve were very good at the line dances and even the Texas Two Step, but Marty and I were just awful at everything. I was having fun watching Marty try to dance with some of the ladies hanging out around the bar. As for me, I was old enough to be left alone by everyone, which suited me just fine.

At one point, Marty and I were alone outside getting some air, when I asked, "I wonder why the hell Jo Anne doesn't like me. I had not said ten words when she let me know we were not going to be friends, no matter what."

"You mean you really don't know?" Marty asked.

"If I knew, I would fix it," I replied.

"Don't think you can fix it, but I can tell you what it is. Jo Anne is just blind jealous,"

I laughed. "Marty look at that woman she is flat gorgeous. No man in his right mind could help but step on his dick around her. Why the hell would she be jealous of me?"

"Max, you really don't know?"

"Know what?" I asked totally baffled.

"Sweetie, that woman can't hold a candle to you. If you don't know that, you are the only person, man or woman, who doesn't. She might light up a room when she walks in, but Max you light up lives. She is a beautiful doll, but you are a beautiful woman."

"Come on, Marty, my boobs are too small, and I'm old compared to her."

"And none of that makes a bit of difference. I know women think men only think with their prick, and it's true sometimes, but we can also see past a woman's boobs now and then."

"You could have fooled me," I replied.

"Don't let Jo Anne bother you. We will be gone day after tomorrow. Just put up with her tonight and all will be fine."

"Since she is the DA, she is bulletproof, so don't worry, I'll put up with her."

It was 2 AM when we got back to our motel. Steve and Jo Anne came up to our room for one last drink. Why she agreed was anyone's guess. I would have expected her to run away. The guys were out trying to find more liquor, when she said, "You are just who you seem to be, aren't you? Just an old country girl who shows you what she is all the time,"

"Pretty much, but I don't usually show the guys that I swing both ways. It makes them nervous." I was a little drunk, so it came out humorous.

"Just for the record, I don't." she said.

"I didn't think so, you are way too perfect."

"What does that mean?" she asked with a laugh.

"Most of us who do are less than perfect. It just helps even the odds up for us."

"Bullshit, Max, you should hear what people say about you. Hell, I expected you to be a six foot tall Amazon warrior."

"You mean I'm not?" I laughed.

"You know, Max, I grew up a sharecropper's daughter."

"Daddy worked in a cotton mill," I replied.

"Well, I went to school and learned what I needed to know, so that I wouldn't have to go back there."

"I joined the military and got away. I swore I would never go back after my mom and dad died. However, I'm back living within ten miles of where I grew up. My daddy bird hunted all over the land where I live now."

"I did a bad thing, Max," Jo Anne said.

"What did you do?"

"I used my office to investigate you. Steve is just so taken with you that I had to be sure he wasn't going to leave me like he did his first wife."

"Don't worry, Jo Anne, I don't hang around with married men, but I have to admit I have spent some quality time with a couple of married women. There are a lot more men out there who are easy to get into bed, than there are women."

"Then you really do swing both ways?" she asked, amazed.

"Yes, I don't think it is because I'm a bit of a tomboy, but I guess it could be a hormonal thing." I actually laughed at that thought. "I think we are always looking for excuses for why we are different."

"More likely it's just the sum of your previous experiences that tends to make it alright for you. It might not be alright for me," Jo Anne said. "Ah, it's like shoes. One size doesn't fit all."

"But maybe it's time I tried a different style," she suggested.

"Those sling back pumps should look good on you," I suggested kissing her gently. Jo Anne wasn't the first woman I had been with, when she first decided to try the dark side. I never thought of it as anything I did. I figured I was just there when the woman made the decision.

I felt her much larger, much firmer, breasts pressing against me as my tongue tried to work its way down her throat. Obviously my tongue was not as long as the Mendez brother's cock. Even so it seemed to have the desired effect on Jo Anne. She seemed to be trying desperately to forcer her body inside mine, or maybe to force my body inside hers. With a woman you just never know for sure what she is thinking.

She obviously did not know what to do, so I took the lead. I worked my hands under her blouse to massage her back. My hands were rough from the kind of life I lived, but I knew that rough was good when massaging soft skin. "I should stop; your husband and Marty will be back soon," I suggested.

"Yes, but not too soon," with that she kissed me. She was demanding as she shifted to sit beside me. I gently spread her legs. I would have spent more time arousing her even though she didn't need it, except that the men would be back soon.

I slipped my hand under her skirt all the way to her panties. I moved them out of the way, while I kissed her mouth deep. I was choking her on my tongue while I traced her opening with my short nailed finger tips. I could feel how slippery she was. I knew that she was lubricated for me. If I had been a man, she might now have turned on me, but she felt that I was no threat to her life, so she gave in to it. I didn't mind the second class status, I just wanted to bury my head in her and get lost in the smells and feelings.

I knew better, so I worked my finger in and out of her. I curled my finger and massaged the rough skin behind her pubic bone. Jo Anne was clinging to me for dear life while I kissed and massaged her body. She opened her blouse and raised her bra for me. I felt her hard nipples in my mouth. I felt them deep as she tried to gag me with her boob. It was all so erotic that I came without any stimulation at all. It wasn't the best orgasm I ever had, but it was different. I just slipped over some imaginary line and there it was. It wasn't long after that I felt her muscles ripple. Then they began to clench and release as her body squeezed out the orgasms. It was marvelously empowering to feel. She was emotionally shaken from the experience, so I whispered, "Don't let Steve or Marty know. It is something you need time to reconcile."

She nodded then said, "God, that was marvelous, and you don't want anything from me, how wonderful."

"Who said I don't want anything." I did laugh after I said.

When Mitch and Steve made it back with the bottle of Bourbon, Jo Anne was almost asleep. I had a hard time believing that her orgasm was as intense as it seemed to be. She was absolutely out of it. The three of us finished our drinks, then Marty and I helped get Jo Anne into the elevator. Marty went down with them to open the car door, while I went back to our room.

Yes, when Marty returned, I was wearing a big smile knowing what I had done. I knew exactly how men felt when they were successful in seducing a beautiful woman. I don't think the feeling of sexual conquest is limited to one sex. Of course, I had never had that thought before. Sure there has always been the older woman preying on the younger men, thing going on. It seemed that I wasn't quite the stereotypical female sexual predator type after all. I didn't get off on younger men. No, for me it was the unattainable man or woman who tripped my trigger. Oh sure, there was the occasional scratch my itch screw, but I did prefer the big score.

When Marty came back into the room, I was just drunk enough and just aroused enough to consider man rape. I was pretty sure that I would not need my pistol, but hell, I was about ready for that as well. If I acted logically all the time, I would be the only human being in the world who did. I knew that if I went through with screwing Marty, things would never be the same again, but I really didn't give a shit at that moment.

I did let him get the door closed before I closed in on him. Now Marty at the time was a robust 68 year old man. He had beautiful white hair and a reasonably fit body. His main problem sexually was a lowered testosterone level. Age typically does that, I'm told.

Being the true bisexual woman that I am, I kissed Marty using just as much tongue as I had used on the forty year younger Jo Anne. It didn't have quite the same effect, but it was close. I expect Jo Anne was getting laid more often than Marty, so maybe their arousal threshold was close after all. Regardless of the reason, Marty turned right on. I could feel his erection press hard against my soft belly.

My breasts were still sensitive from the arousal I had felt with Jo Anne. When I followed Marty to the bed, kissing him all the while, I could feel the slippery moisture between my thighs. I had lubricated again. I expected the lubricant to be of some use this time.

I worked on Marty's clothes before he sat on the bed. I had his shirt open and his pants unbuttoned, before he dropped to the edge of the bed. I felt his penis in my hand. His penis was just an average size, but that was plenty. This obsession with size among men baffles me. Most of the feeling, in my vagina at least, is at the front. One size feels as good as another at that point. The small additional feelings from an over sized prick are usually somewhat uncomfortable. Maybe some women experience it differently; I'm just explaining how I feel.