Explanation of Love 01

Paula rolled over and looked into Terry's eyes.

"There's fifty nine dollars in my hand and Lisa's tells me I'll do better next time and I'm thinking 'Bull shit! This is one of my text books right here! Better? This is good enough!'" Paula smiled at that memory. "And next thing I know, Vince tells me I've got a guy in the Champagne Room wanting a private dance. Thank God for Lisa; Vince just tells me do whatever I want, but Lisa's the one tells me check first, make sure it's not a cop, fifty dollars to spank his money, hundred if he wants a blow job, all that stuff. Tells me not to work too fast; the longer you make a guy wait, the more he's willing to pay for it."

Paula sat up, looked at her watch, and then scurried off the bed.

"Come on; I'm going to be late for my Karate; I'll take you to your car," Paula said.

Terry hurriedly dressed and followed Paula down the stairs.

"Tonight, you got a nice little dress? Tonight, we're taking you out to eat, okay? Oh, hey, your Aunt Janette? You don't think she might have any plans for your birthday, huh?" Paula said as she started the car.

"Doubt it; she never has in the past," Terry shrugged. "But, Paula, you don't have to do that, really. You're already done plenty."

"But I want to," Paula insisted.

"Okay," Terry shrugged. "Yeah, I got this really cute little black dress; I couldn't believe they had it at the GoodWill; better believe I grabbed it!"

"But you know, after I worked there a while, I really learned the tricks of the trade," Paula continued her tale. "Continued to diet, continued to exercise, and continued to lose the pounds. Sucking cock? First time I sucked this guy? I almost threw up. He thought he was choking me; he was so big, but actually I was choking on the taste; latex condoms taste like shit; even those stupid flavored ones. Dumb ass gave me an extra twenty bucks for it. But pretty soon, I'm learning how to take it all the way down; guys love that shit. And Sherri and Ron are all like 'and just how you paying for all of this?'"

Terry smiled; Paula's deep voice was amusing to her.

"Don't know how he found out, but Ron shows up at Elegante and even coughs up the bucks to get me in the Champagne Room. That night, I'm dressed up like a super slut cop; instead of pasties, I got these two toy badges covering up my nips and I've got this little baton and I'm doing all kind of nasty stuff with it; God, they're just loving it, even Vince is all like 'Gave me a fucking stiffy doing that shit!' So I walk in and Ron's all like 'Hello, Paula; bet you didn't think we'd find out about this, huh?'"

Terry didn't smile at the deep voice this time; Paula's voice had taken a very hard edge.

"And I just smile and tell him if he even moves his hands off the straps, see, they got these straps they're supposed to hold onto and I told him if he even takes his hands off the straps I'm going to assume he's going to try to rape me again and I will break every bone in his body," Paula was practically spitting the words out now. "And he's all like 'It wasn't rape; you were begging for it,' so anyway, I start the music and get moving and I'm telling him all about all the cock I'm fucking and sucking and how big they all are, much bigger than his little pee-pee and then I'm fucking myself with my little baton and I can see the wet spot on his jeans so I really ramp it up and I shove the baton up my ass and I tell him to watch, tell him to look at the big black cock fucking his little girl's tight little shit hole; that was the first time I ever put anything up my butt before and I don't know, maybe it's because it's fucking Ron all up, but it's really turning me on and get this shit, mother fucker leaves me five hundred dollars tip. Believe that shit?"

They pulled up behind Terry's car.

"I'm so sorry," Terry said softly.

She softly touched Paula's face. Paula turned and looked at Terry. Terry leaned forward and softly kissed Paula's lips.

"What time you want me ready for?" she asked.

"Huh? Ready... Oh! Reservations' at seven; I'll pick you up at six thirty, all right?" Paula said.

"Okay," Terry agreed.

Terry cringed, but gave Paula her address and directions to the house she and Aunt Janette shared. If Paula recognized the address' locale, she did not indicate it.

They shared another soft kiss, and then Terry got out of Paula's car. She smiled as she put the gifts she'd been given onto the passenger seat of her car; Aunt Janette would most likely be mystified at the strap-on dildo and scandalized at the pasties and thong from the Dead End Bar.

"Johnson's said they don't have that mattress," was the greeting Terry received when she entered the house.

"They say when they might get it?" Terry asked Aunt Janette, not remembering anything about a mattress.

"No; and that girl was rude to me," Aunt Janette whined.

Chapter 5

Over Aunt Janette's constant complaints, Terry did a thorough house-cleaning and even replaced the light bulb in the bathroom.

"You using too much of that stuff," Aunt Janette complained as Terry added a few capsfull of pine disinfectant to a bucket of water.

"Using what the bottle says," Terry argued.

"I use half that and it's fine," Aunt Janette lied.

The bottle had been under the kitchen sink for fourteen years and had not been moved since Janice's death eleven years earlier.

"I will next time," Terry promised and finished, with running commentary from Aunt Janette, cleaning the house.

At five o'clock, Terry folded her clean uniform and Aunt Janette's second pair of sweat pants; Aunt Janette was wearing her first pair. She then left the agitated woman to settle down in front of her television set.

'I Was a Teenage Stripper' was the topic of discussion of one of Aunt Janette's talk shows; Terry wanted to laugh.

"Strippers ain't nothing but whores anyway," Aunt Jeannette declared.

Terry wanted to come to her friend's defense, but by her own admission, Paula was a whore.

Terry searched through her closet, found her little black dress, found her high heeled black pumps and carefully scrutinized her three pair of panty hose and found two of them did not have urns in them yet. So, she decided to wear the natural hose.

She worked her long hair into a shower cap and quickly cleaned the smell of cleaning solution off. She used her razor and a fine toothed comb to trim down her pubic hair, and then shaved her legs and underarms again. She had shaved them yesterday, and normally went one or two days between shaves, but this was a special occasion. And the dress she was wearing demanded it.

She rarely wore make-up; skating and carrying trays of food was hard work; make up would soon be sweated off. She did take little time to apply foundation, a light blush, a little eye shadow, and pale lip gloss.

She then applied Amber's perfume to her pulse points. She laughed, remembering hearing that some celebrity said she put perfume in her pubic region. With a giggle, she dabbed a fingertip of the fragrance to her blonde curls.

The dress was not intended to have a bra worn underneath so Terry didn't bother with one. She giggled to herself as she thought briefly of wearing the tassels underneath. Then, slipping on her shoes, she left her room.

"What you all dressed up for?" Aunt Janette asked, pulling her eyes up from a rerun of an old sitcom.

"Friend's taking me out to dinner," Terry said.

"Oh," was Aunt Janette's only response.

Terry perched on the edge of the couch so that she could see the driveway.

Aunt Janette laughed inanely at the television and Terry sighed in relief as Paula's BMW pulled up to the house.

"My friend's here," Terry said, getting to her feet.

"Okay," Aunt Janette said, not looking up.

Paula felt good, felt clean physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It had done her good to go to the studio.

Master Yaggamaki had noticed that his star student was viciously lashing out at the heavy bag, giving the equipment brutal, savage kicks and blows.

"Miss Lambert!" he barked.

"Yes, Master Yaggamaki?" Paula snapped.

"Miss Lambert, sit!" Master Yaggamaki ordered.

She did so; refusing him was not an option.

"Before you hurt yourself, before you hurt someone else, please, please let us do our breathing, let us do our meditation," he urged, then sat down next to her.

She sat for several minutes, and then attempted to rise. He put a firm hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.

A few moments later, she tried again to rise and again, he forced her back down.

"Now, let us do our forms," he finally said.

Master Yaggamaki had been correct; after meditating, forcing her breathing to normal, then the mindless repetition of the forms, she was able to let her anger and her bitterness go.

After a light lunch, and a nice long soak in her whirlpool bath, she felt cleansed.

Paula got out of her car and heard a door slam. She looked up and smiled happily as Terry came skipping out of the crumbling, ramshackle house.

"Hi," Terry happily greeted her.

"Hi, wow, you look great!" Paula said and gave Terry a quick kiss on the lips.

Without being bade, Terry twirled so that Paula could see all of the dress.

"I take that back; you don't look great," Paula said and hit the key fob to unlock the passenger door.

"What?" Terry screeched.

"You look stunning," Paula said.

"You look great too; what'd you do to your hair?" Terry said, skipping around the car.

"Tried what you did this morning; no hair dryer, just brushed it until it was dry. Like it?" Paula admitted.

"Love it," Terry said.

"You said you go in early tomorrow?" Paula asked, peering over the roof of the car.

"Yeah, ten thirty," Terry said. "Get off at four."

"Listen, go get your work clothes and your skates," Paula urged. "You can spend the night and I'll take you to work in the morning, okay?"

"Okay!" Terry readily agreed.

Terry ran, as best as she could in the unfamiliar high heels back to the house. Paula walked up and looked around the house with interest. It was obvious that, other than the occasional yard maintenance, the owner of the property had done little to maintain it.

Lambert Condominiums had a sixty percent occupancy rate, but even on the units that were empty, Paula had a cleaning crew go in once a month to dust and vacuum. The grounds were maintained daily.

It wasn't entirely the landowner's fault, Paula reasoned. The occupants of the house also needed to shoulder some of the responsibility. But Paula knew that very few that rented ever took pride in their dwellings.

Carmen Davis, her real estate agent, had asked her once about renting the few empty units, but Paula had steadfastedly refused to entertain the idea.

"Mrs. Davis, if they can afford twelve hundred a month, then they should be able to afford to buy it outright," she said.

Terry again skipped outside, clutching her shirt and shorts. She skittered to her car and plucked the heavy skates out of the passenger seat.

"Here," Paula said, unlocking the trunk of her car. "Put them in here."

Terry did, and then looked at Paula as Paula reached in and put the skates on their sides.

"Don't want them rolling around," she explained. "You know they'll just wind up all the way in the back and then I'll just have to crawl in there to get them."

"Ooooohhhh!" Terry said slowly, nodding her head in agreement.

"So, where are we going?" Terry asked as Paula started the car.

McDonald's," Paula said.

"Then why'd we had to get all dressed up?" Terry asked.

Paula saw that some of Terry's sweetness came at a price; she was also a little slow.

"Why not?" Paula asked.

"Oh, okay," Terry shrugged.

"Oh!" Terry gasped when Paula pulled up to Radcliffe's, the expensive restaurant in DeGarde. "I've never been to this place!"

"It is the very finest in French cuisine; even better than Henri's in Elgee," Paula said, handing her keys to the valet.

"I tried to get a job here; they were so rude," Terry whispered as the doorman opened the door for them.

"Terry, you're not the right kind to be working here," Paula tittered.

"What? What do you mean?" Terry asked as they approached the maitre'd.

"Terry, only gay men work here," Paula smiled and gave the maitre'd her name.

"Ah yes, Ms. Lambert! Yes ma'am, right this way; your party's already here," the man simpered as he guided them into the plush dining area.

Terry saw two men, both dressed very well in tailored suits, rise to their feet as they approached.

"Hey!" Paula happily greeted them both with hugs and kisses.

"Sonny, Michael, this is Terry," she introduced Terry, who suddenly felt very shy and wanted to hide behind Paula.

Both men were very handsome, both men exuded confidence; both men would have never looked twice at her, other than to tell her they wanted onion rings instead of French fries.

The maitre-d seated them and walked briskly away.

"I hope you don't mind but I ordered a DuMount Blanc," Sonny commented. "The last time we were here, you had pheasant and I happen to know that the DuMount Blanc goes very well with the pheasant."

"Thank you; that was very thoughtful," Paula smiled.

Terry listened as Paula, Sonny, and Michael discussed wines, and then switched over to stocks, real estate, zoning regulations and politics. Her head hurt by the time their waiter was asking for their order.

"This is my first time here," Terry confessed to the waiter.

She felt more of a kinship to the waiter than to the three companions at the table.

"May I suggest..." Matthew said, and then launched into a discourse of the various French dishes on the menu.

"That does sound good," Terry agreed, thoroughly baffled.

Matthew could have said "I'll have a plate of fried skunk and a gravy of raw sewage brought out to you," and Terry would have agreed.

"Please excuse us," Paula asked after Matthew left the table.

Terry followed Paula to the restroom. The moment the door shut behind them, Paula hugged Terry close.

"I am so sorry," she murmured to Terry.

"About what?" Terry asked.

"I really should have taken the time to talk with you about the food here; I should have made sure you were a part of the conversation; I feel like a total bitch right now. This is supposed to be your birthday, it's your party, and I'm ignoring you," Paula admitted, and kissed Terry softly.

"But Paula, they're your friends; you can't just ignore them and worry about me," Terry objected.

"But it's YOUR party!" Paula said.

"Listen, as long as we're here," Terry said and opened the door to a stall.

"Part of the problem is Sonny," Paula confessed as she checked her make-up.

"What do you mean?" Terry asked, flushing the commode.

"God, every time I get around him!" Paula giggled. "He gets my pussy so fucking wet!"

"Which one is he?"" Terry asked.

"The blonde one," Paula laughed.

She brushed a lock of Terry's hair aside.

"Guess I got a thing for blondes," she said and gave Terry another kiss.

"Guess I do too," Terry smiled, tugging a strand of Paula's strawberry blonde hair.

Again, the men politely got to their feet and assisted with the chairs as the women sat down.

"And here we are," Matthew said, putting down the three plates; Michael had declined to order escargots.

Matthew stood attentively by Terry's side.

"Please, let me know what you think of it," he nodded to the plate.

Terry cautiously tried one of the morsels and nodded in satisfaction.

"Very good," she smiled up at Matthew.

"Ah, good!" Matthew smiled in genuine pleasure.

"Damn, Terry!" Sonny laughed. "He never seems to care if I like my escargot!"

Michael topped off her wine glass and she nodded in thanks. He smiled warmly at her.

"Paula called me, said she had someone she just knew I would just love to meet," Michael said. "Paula has never been wrong in anything she's told me before."

"And?" Paula asked.

"You're batting a thousand," Michael admitted.

Each course was brought out, and as each course was served, Matthew waited for Terry's approval before leaving the table.

More wine was ordered and Michael grew more attentive to Terry as each glass was consumed.

"We're going back to my place," Paula whispered as they waited for their cars to be brought around.

"Okay," a slightly drunk Terry agreed.

"I think Michael has really taken a shine to you," Paula whispered.

"He's cute," Terry agreed.

"And rich," Paula threw in.

"Who cares about that?" Terry asked.

"You know what? You're right; who cares about that?" Paula smiled and handed the valet a five dollar bill.

Michael smiled a little sardonically when Terry did not respond to his Porsche.

"New?" Paula asked him as he handed his valet a twenty dollar bill.

"Picked it up lat Friday," Michael smiled proudly.

"And hasn't shut up about it since," Sonny agreed, folding his six foot three inch frame into the passenger side.

Paula put her hand on Terry's thigh as she drove to her condo.

"Listen, I'm going to take Sonny upstairs; I've been wanting his ass all night," Paula admitted.

"Okay," Terry said.

"But I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything with Michael; I don't think he expects anything either," Paula went on.

"I like him; he's cute," Terry said.

"I mean, just because I'm a whore, you don't have to be one too," Paula went on.

"I know, Paula," Terry said, getting a little irritated. "God, I'm not stupid!"

"Never said you were," Paula hastened to reassure her friend. "Just that, I mean, we've been drinking; was that some good wine or what? And I know, sometimes when I'm drinking, I'm an even bigger whore than ever."

The foursome entered the condo through the front door and both Sonny and Michael complimented Paula on the large painting she had hanging over the couch.

"Thank you; it's a Ganozzo," Paula smiled. "He's this artist out of New Orleans. Total stoner but very talented."

Terry could see that both Michael and Sonny had been in the condo before. Her deduction was confirmed when Michael looked over at the calico cat.

"Hello, Miss Courtney; have you been a bad girl lately?" he asked.

"No," Sonny affected a feminine voice, speaking behind his hand. "Janet's the one been getting into everything. She's the real bitch around here."

Paula laughed, cuddled up close to Sonny and craned her head up for a kiss.

Paula put on some soft music and told everyone to have a seat. She then disappeared into the kitchen.

Terry was unsure of what to do. She'd been on dates with men before but all of her previous dates had consisted of sitting in the living room, smoking a few joints, then going from the living room to the bedroom, fucking, and then kissing them good bye.

She sat on the edge of the couch listening and nodding politely while Michael and Sonny talked about a baseball team.

"And here we are; black for Sonny, two creams for Michael, and two cups of real coffee; don't worry Terry, I only spit in Sonny's and Michael's coffee," Paula said, putting a tray down on the coffee table.

"You spit in mine?" Sonny asked.

"Of course," Paula said, sitting close to him.

"That's why it's always so sweet," Michael said, taking a sip of his.

Terry relaxed again, now that Paula was in the room and enjoyed her coffee. Paula pulled her into the conversation, asking her opinion on various topics, and nodding as Terry spoke.

Then Paula set her empty cup down on a coaster.

"Listen, it's late and I'm going to bed," Paula announced, reaching behind her and unzipping her dress. "Now, I can have one, two, or all three of y'all join me."

She dropped her dress to the ground, stepped out of it and picked it up.

Three sets of eyes looked on as she casually stood, nude, her large breasts capped by pale pink nipples that were crinkled and hard. Her blat belly flared into her swelling hips, her navel was pierced and adorned with a large gold hoop. Her orange pubic hair was shaved into a small heart that did not cover her swollen pussy, did not mask the excitement that oozed out onto her smooth, muscular thighs.