A Girl's Story Chapter 32
Our lovely girls are ready for a night of wonderful theater and hopefully some nice sex by (if not on) the beach.
Part 32: Live Theater and the Beach
The next day we the touristy stuff; Paula lived near a MARTA stations so we could ride the train into the city, and just as importantly, not have to look for parking. We went to Underground Atlanta to see the Coca Cola museum and then to the Martin Luther King historic park, which moved us both. When we had told everyone at one of our Sunday dinners that we were going to Atlanta, Dennis' grandmother and aunt told their story of going to the IWU chapel to hear Dr. King speak back in the 1960's; I took lots of photos to show them when we got home.
We went back to Paula's to get changed. Just as Lisa loved it when I braided her hair, especially if we were both naked, I loved it when Lisa helped my shave my legs (that was usually accompanied by getting my pussy licked); I was, as Lisa put it, now ready for her to show me off. We stopped by the restaurant and Esme was duly impressed that I did actually wear a dress (she loved our matching sneakers) and she made it a point to run her warm hand over my legs, complimenting Lisa on "Getting the cute biker girl cleaned up." We each kissed her on the top of her head, earning us applause from the staff (they all knew Esme), and then headed to catch the train to the hotel, which was by the Art Center, where the "Meet the Cast" party was happening.
Lisa held my hand tight on the train, southern predjuce be damned. She was very nervous and very excited at the same time. It was a short walk to the hotel; we found the ballroom and collected our nametags, explaining many times that we were there as Paula's guests. I guess she had told some of her coworkers about us because we did get some smiles and pats on the back from (I guessed) some of her closeted queer compatriots.
The cast was introduced to all of us and then we got to mingle, Lisa made a bee-line for the actress playing Christine Daaé. There was a long line of people waiting to meet the assorted cast members and we waited patiently. Lisa introduced herself, and me, and told her that she would love to talk more when the line died down. We nibbled on the snacks, they were pretty fancy by our standards, and probably drank a bottle of wine apiece. We were sitting at one of the tables when two women came over; we recognized one as the actress playing Christine and the other played Carlotta. Both of them were clearly enjoying their night off.
Karen (she played Christine) smiled at us as she sat down, "You girls aren't the usual sort we see at things like this. Usually it's society types who love being in the social mix."
"We got these tickets from my aunt, she's in Puerto Rico on business and it's our Spring Break."
The other woman, Patricia, asked us, "Where do you girls go to school?"
And so this began a long conversation that eventually moved to the hotel bar. Lisa did most of the talking, telling the two women about her experiences and the roles she had played. I would chime in occasionally but this was definitely Lisa's show tonight. It did make me feel good that they both told me how that without the crew backstage none of what they did could actually happen. They talked a lot about how they had gotten their starts, both of them had gone to small colleges and how they had started out in local theater. Lisa's story of how she got a birthday greeting from Olivia Newton-John definitely impressed them, as did her extensive resume (especially for someone who was just 21). The did not shy away from telling us how hard life in a touring company was; that is was a real adventure but that it was hell on your personal life and on your relationships.
Karen took Lisa's hand, "Here's my advice dear, you can make a good living doing regional theater, especially if you can manage some side gigs as well. I'm not going to tell you that Broadway, or Hollywood, is out of your grasp but I want you to go into with your eyes open. For every Sarah Brightman there are thousands of women just like us who love performing but know we will never be superstars. You know what? I'm good with that. Always keep your Equity membership (that's the stage actors union) and if you can manage a Screen Actor's Guild card make sure you get one. If you land a big role then you can probably find a good agent but stay away from the bottom-feeders. Do spend the money for proper legal advice, too many producers will try to take advantage of young girls like you."
I squeezed Lisa's hand, "We got that covered. We know a very good lawyer in Chicago."
Patricia raised an eyebrow, "Who is it? I've done quite a bit of work there."
"Fred Graff."
She let out a low whistle "Hoo-hoo, how did you manage that? He's one of the really good ones and he doesn't work cheap."
"His daughter Rita is one of our best friends, he likes us."
"Well when he offers you advice you better damn well listen, he knows things."
"That he does."
We bid our farewells and rode the train back to the station near Paula's house, carefully hanging up our dresses so they would be ready for the performance tomorrow. I was holding on to Lisa in bed when she started crying, not a big cry, more like emotional tears coming out slowly.
"I don't know if I could pick up and move to New York or to California."
"Baby, if that's what you decide to do you know I will be there too. I can get work anywhere people use electricity and I will support you no matter what." I rolled on my side so I could look into her blue eyes and stroke her tit, "This is true love, this doesn't happen every day. Baby, I am with you all the way, till the wheels fall off and burn (I got that from `Brownsville Girl')" I had no idea where this came from but it sounded like a good addition, "Where you go, I will go. Where you live, I will live. Your people will be my people and your God will be my God."
Lisa kissed me for a long time, "That was a nice Bible quote you had there."
"I knew I had heard it somewhere, I just didn't know where. It's like those random movie quotes that come into my head."
She kissed me again, "It's from the book of Ruth and it was just what I needed. I'm going to concentrate on opportunities in Chicago. I'll audition for everything I can and hope for the best."
I rolled her on her back, pressing my boobs tight to hers and I looked into her eyes (I swear they were glowing!) and I actually sang a little snippet from the Traveling Wilburys, "Well it's all right, we're going to the end of the line."
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Lisa insisted on trying to do something with my hair before we left for the show. I tried to tell her that my hair had even managed to defeat Rita's best efforts but my sweetie is a very determined woman when she sets her mind to a thing. My hair won again; its natural unruliness, coupled with the stifling Georgia humidity led Lisa to finally give up and just tie it all back in a rather bushy ponytail. She still said I looked good but I was sure that standing next to her I was still my tomboy self.
The show was incredible. I have heard the music from Phantom hundreds of times, Lisa plays the CD a lot, but that opening intro, especially heard live still gives me chills. The Fox theater is home to the second largest theater organ in the world, after Radio City Music Hall, and so as the chandelier is raised after the opening auction scene, and the organist is quite literally pulling out all the stops, the effect had us squeezing each other's hands tight and we both had tears in our eyes. Lisa said later that she has always been in awe of organists because she struggles with just playing her little electronic keyboard; the idea of two, three, or even four keyboards, plus using your feet, is something she freely admitted was beyond her skills.
It was no surprise that when Karen performed "Think of Me" that Lisa had tears rolling down her face. She whispered to me that she often practiced that song but those high notes at the end were still a mountain she was yet to climb. I got teary-eyed with the song "Music of the Night." It made me think of my friend Dr. Hirschhorn and he had told me about the old belief amongst astronomers of "The Music of the Spheres." Lisa leaned over and whispered in my ear, "You'll have to tell Dr. H about this, he'll love it." I was sure she was right.
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I woke up before Lisa did the next morning. She was spooned up against me and I began rubbing my bush on her butt as I was gently rubbing her pussy. I thought she might still be asleep but then she grabbed my hand, "Rub it harder baby." I gladly did as I was told and as I was biting at her ear she erupted, her legs quivering as she soaked the sheets yet again (We had gone through all of Paula's sheets by now). She rolled me over and slid her legs over mine, pressing her very wet white bush onto mine. She started working her hips, slowly at first, holding tight to my ankles. Her smile was a truly evil one as she backed off each time I was close to climax, holding my legs so I didn't buck her right off me. Finally she let me come, and my orgasm was, at least for me, quite wet and accompanied by a drawn out "Fuuuuuuuuuuck."
I made breakfast as Lisa did yet again another load of laundry, we were determined to not have my aunt's house smelling like pussy when she got home. Properly fed and packed up, we loaded everything into Paula's Jeep and headed east on Interstate 16 toward Savannah. We kept the top up, neither of us wanting to get sunburned just yet, but all the windows were open and, Amber would have loved this, we were singing along with Bruce Springsteen at the tops of our lungs; The Boss is always appropriate traveling music. As we approached Savannah we got off the interstate and onto the old Dixie Highway, as an homage to the song "Darlington County" (which is actually in South Carolina); we even used my tripod to get a photo of us in front of an old Dixie Highway road sign (plus one with the Polaroid flashing our tits) to share with Amber.
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Tybee Island reminded me a lot of what I remembered from our trip to Panama City years ago; lots of tall buildings right along the beach with narrow spaces in between so people could actually get to the beach. We found Paula's building and got ourselves checked in; the guy at the desk was definitely suspected we were a coupe and he did not like it, I could swear that Lisa was practically growling at him. Paula's unit was essentially a nice, but small, apartment with a little kitchen, a bedroom, a sitting area, and a bathroom. The best part was it had a balcony that looked out over the ocean. We hadn't even unpacked when we went out on the balcony and spent some quality time kissing and feeling each other up. We had picked up what we needed for breakfasts but we had both decided that since we were near the ocean we wanted seafood; I wanted more of those shrimp and grits.
Happily, full of seafood we went in search of the bar Esme had told us about; she had said that while it was not a gay bar it was a place that was gay friendly. Thankfully it was close to where we were staying and it wasn't too crowded; we had decided Tybee Island is probably too expensive for the massive Spring Break crowds. There was a band, and to my delight, they were playing Jimmy Buffet. Lisa was sad they couldn't make a French 75, so she settled for a Tom Collins; I was pleased they could make a Dark and Stormy.
Lisa pulled me onto the dance floor and that probably focused more attention on us than was wise since we were both tipsy enough to be grabbing each other's butts. Lisa can dance for hours on end but I needed to sit down for a bit. We sat at our table, discreetly holding hands when a woman came over. She was definitely older than us, but younger than our parents (yeah, that's quite a range).
"Mind if join you girls?"
Lisa smiled happily, "Sure! I'm Lisa and this is my girlfriend Cindy."
"Hi girls, I'm Marti. You aren't from around here, are you?"
I shook my head, "We're staying at my aunt's place down the beach a little way."
"I have to say you girls are pretty bold, you were groping each other pretty hard out there."
I had that tingly feeling on the back of my neck, you know that feeling you get when someone points out that you may have just fucked up pretty bad. I was sure I was blushing, Lisa certainly was.
"I'm not here to yell at you or anything, I just wanted to advise you two to be careful. I don't know where you're from but this part of the country is not exactly welcoming to us queer folks."
I was relaxing a bit; Marti wasn't there to be mean to us, she was trying to keep us safe. I took a long swallow of my drink, "Thanks. We get so used to being open when we are at school that we forget that not every place is as welcome." I was now noticing that Marti had some very nice tits and she was not afraid to show them off.
She laughed softly, "Hell, I have a husband back in Charleston; I come here to meet up with some friends for some fun." She looked us over, clearly noticing Lisa's white hair, "You girls would be welcome to join us, if that's your thing."
I looked over at Lisa, who was looking ravenously horny. She nodded and so did I.
Marti smiled in an equally horny way. She wrote an address on a napkin, "Come over to my place after seven tomorrow, I'll see how many other girls I can round up.
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Back at Paula's apartment I was pulling Lisa's shirt down as soon as the door closed. I leaned in, sinking my teeth into her warm boob and reaching into her daringly tight shorts to grab her pussy, which was nice and wet. I was all-in on being the Mean Girl tonight and, despite the large quantity of rum inside me, I got her over my shoulder and took her in the bedroom where I tossed her onto the bed. I sat astride her hips, pulling off my black Ramones t-shirt and my plain black sports bra. I grabbed her white hair and pulled her up, mashing her lovely face hard into my soft tits (mine are a little bigger but Lisa's are firmer). I could tell she was close to orgasm already because she has a serious thing for being smothered (especially with a girl's tits) and choked; I let her go and got off her, pulling off her shorts (the naughty minx wasn't wearing panties!) before sliding off my black jeans. I pulled her up into my lap, pressing my pussy to hers and smashing her tits with mine. We were both near the edge already because it was only a few minutes later our orgasms exploding from us.
We sat out on the balcony in our t-shirts; our neighbors would be able to see us so there could be no balcony sex this time. I turned my attention from kissing Lisa, she was in my lap, and I saw what I had been hoping to see; Comet Hale-Bopp arcing over the Atlantic. I got up so fast I almost dumped my girlfriend on the floor. Not bothering to explain, I went to grab my camera and my tripod. By now Lisa had figured out what was going on and got out of my way, to this day I get very single-minded in the quest for a good photo. I used up an entire roll of film taking pictures of the comet, in hopes one of them would come out.
Lisa came up behind me, arms around me, her head on my shoulder and her boobs pressing into my back. "You are determined to make Dr. H cry, aren't you?"
"Yes I am. I am going to make that delightful old man's day if it's the last thing I do."
Lisa went to bed, reminding me that I had better make a big breakfast in the morning. I stayed out on the balcony just staring at the comet. Dr. H had told me that it took the comet around 2500 years to orbit the Sun and I spent a long time thinking about whether there might have been a girl on this very beach all those years ago looking up at this same comet. Yes, the tears were flowing freely. I packed my gear away and got into bed, holding my snoring girlfriend close to me.
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We spent the next day doing touristy stuff in Savannah in addition to searching out seafood. In addition to shrimp and grits (I planned on making that for one of our Sunday dinners when I got home) I also discovered crab cakes. It was good we would only be here a few more days, otherwise I might need an extra seat for my ever-expanding ass. Savannah was an amazingly historical place but it was unsettling how much of its original prosperity had come from the labor of slaves; it did put a dark cloud over things.
We pulled up at Marti's place just after seven. She had referred to hit as her "Vacation House," but it was definitely bigger than the house either of us had grown up in. Marti had told how she had gotten a job with a financial firm in Charleston (which is in South Carolina) when she graduated from college in 1984. She had met one of the partners in the firm who had recently gotten divorced (he was quite a bit older than her) and she had decided that being a trophy wife wasn't a bad choice for her, though she emphasized that she had squirreled away money just in case he met someone younger and prettier. Her marriage was more of a business relationship than anything else and she was sure he had some side pieces but she didn't try to embarrass him about it. He already had two kids, both of whom were older than Marti (I thought that had to be weird) and he wasn't interested in having any more, which was good with her. Marti told us that her first sexual experience had been with a girl in high school and that she had considered herself bisexual ever since. We definitely got the impression that she considered girls to be for fun whereas guys were a means to an end. Lisa found all this quite cynical, and rather sad to her eyes, but she agreed if Marti was happy then we were in no place to judge.
Inside her house was what could best be described as "gaudy," lots of white and gold things and pretty fancy furniture. Lisa agreed with me later on that Marti certainly had access to as much money as Rita's mom but that Rita's mom had much better taste. Marti was sitting on the couch next to a blonde woman with really nice tits with one hand between her thighs.
"Girls, this is Emily. She and I were in the same sorority in college and we've gotten together to fuck a lot over the past years. She's from Athens, Georgia and she has a rich husband too." Both women giggled at that one.
Yes, dear readers, Lisa and I were basically going to be college-age sex toys for two bored, rich women, and we didn't care. By this time both of us collected sex partners like my brother Rob collected stamps and we were having fun doing it. Marti stood up, unzipped her dress, and let it fall to the floor. She was wearing a black, lacey bra (no way those tits could support themselves) and nothing else. I noticed (disappointedly) that she shaved her pussy. Emily did the same; her bra was white and she had a white thong on as well. She slid her thong down and I smiled to see that her bush was the same dark blonde color as her hair. Free of her bra her breasts hung down, swaying in a way that made me very tingly and reminding me of our friend Clarissa.
Lisa and I slid out of our far less fancy clothes, both women were practically drooling at Lisa's white bush (I mean, who wouldn't?) and Marti was already stroking her clit. We talked about the things we liked, our new friends were not on-board with our pee fetish but both of them were eager to fuck us with their nipples (and they were both well equipped for it). Emily admitted to once trying mud wrestling at a camp-out and I think that Marti was definitely sizing me up. Lisa and Emily both laughed as they simultaneously warned us about their very wet orgasms and I gave fair warning about my flailing legs when I was in the throes of orgasm. Marti got up and led Lisa into a bedroom, I got up and took Emily's hand and we went into the guest bedroom.
Emily wanted to try wrestling, and when I asked her how rough she wanted to get she said no lasting bruises. We faced off but I was still distracted by her tits, she said her bra was 38F; by her own admission she had gained weight since college (she did have a noticeable belly and very thick thighs) and especially after having two kids. I told her she was still lucky to much of it went to her glorious tits. Her areolas (A new word I had learned from Rita. I know, I've led a sheltered life.) we easily six inches across and quite dark compared to her pale skin (she wore a one-piece at the pool). We lunged at each other, grabbing each other's nipples. I knew that I had to stay out from under those jugs of hers, she would smother me in no time at all with them. Emily definitely wanted my wet pussy but I was going to make her work for it. I did throw a punch into her soft belly and her moan was definitely one of pleasure; when she went down on her back I sat down hard on her belly, rubbing my wet cunt on her and pushing her tits into her face, trying to smother her with her own breasts. I finally got her in a leg scissors and wrapped my hands around her neck, I barely squeezed when she cried out, "Please! No!" I had gotten carried away and forgot she didn't like being choked. I apologized profusely before laying on my back so that she could slap my pussy with her heavy tits.
Emily would press her big, warm breast on my pussy and then pull back so she could lick me. I pulled on my legs to spread them wide so she could run her tongue between my pussy and my ass, leaving me moaning and my big legs quivering. It was not a really violent orgasm, but it was still nice. I rolled Emily on her back and spread her thick legs wide, running my tongue up the inside of her thigh, which produced some wonderful moans of pleasure. Her blonde bush was sparse and I slid my tongue between her soft pussy lips, flicking her clit with my tongue while I also pushed a finger into her tight butthole. It didn't take long for her big body to start quivering and for her soft thighs to trap my head between them. Emily's orgasm was nicely wet, not one of Lisa's amazing gushers by any means, but all orgasms are wonderful things.
We laid there in the bed with Emily and I talking, with me occasionally sinking my teeth into her soft tit. Emily had quite the history; she had also married an older rich guy in Athens who was the owner of a chain of car dealerships. She had given birth to two children, both boys, and had many stories about how horny she was when she was pregnant; I told her about me and Lisa's fun afternoon with Kathleen the summer after we graduated from high school. Emily told me, with considerable relish, how she had picked babysitters for her boys based on how sexy they were and how she had seduced many of them (most were students at the University of Georgia) and how word got around in the lesbian community that a girl could make good money and get all the pussy she wanted working for Emily.
Lisa came in, still licking her lips, "My turn sweetie." I kissed her on the way out, the lust on Emily's face making it plain how much she wanted to fuck my Elf Queen girlfriend.
Marti was ready; her hair was still wet, telling me that Lisa's orgasm had been a good one. "Get over her girl, I want to feel your warm cunt on mine." I slid between her legs (Marti definitely worked out); she grabbed my hair, pulling my mouth to hers as I moved in to begin rubbing my pussy on hers and grabbing her short, black hair.
We sat there on her big bed, grinding our wet pussys together. I was squeezing Marti's big tits, loving the feeling of her overly -large clit pressed on mine; Marti really liked it when I would sink my teeth deep into her big, tanned breast, she even pulled my hair a few times, growling "Bite that tit like you mean it big girl!" I was happy to oblige.
We locked ourselves into a tight 69, both of us moaning as our pussys and buttholes were licked. Marti took a turn with rubbing her nipple on my pussy; her nipples were smaller than Emily's, but very hard and erect. I was also fascinated by her very large clit, sucking gently on it (that drove her wild).
It was a great night of sex but we would be driving back to Atlanta the next day so we kissed our new friends goodnight and headed back to Paula's apartment. We talked a lot about our evening. We agreed that sex with Marti and Emily was a lot of fun but they just weren't the type of women we would be friends with. Both women were financially secure but they just didn't seem happy. Lisa's comment was that they both had plenty of money but neither of them seemed to enjoy it.
"I feel the same way. I compare them to Rita's family, who I think have a lot more money than either of them, but they seem happy and they really are nice people."
Lisa gave a little laugh, "Well, they are nice to us because we are Rita's friends. We've seen them in action with people who they don't like; but even then they are fierce defenders of people they believe in. Jan is a wonderfully nice guy too but from what we know about his family, except for his sister Sarah, they are not nice people either." Lisa kissed me firmly, "We've got each other and that's good enough for me."
"Me too babe, me too."
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Back at Paula's we got in the shower so that Lisa could have lovely wet orgasms with minimal cleanup. Lisa indulged me and pissed on my tits, which I totally loved. We got out later in the day and went for more shrimp and grits. I wolfed mine down and was looking covetously at Lisa's, but she smacked my hand with her spoon to remind me to not try to steal her food. She agreed with me that I would have to make this for Sunday dinner and I needed to do it soon.
The next morning we drove to the airport so we could meet Paula when her plane landed. We both thanked her profusely for giving us this wonderful Spring Break before she left to get her Jeep and we went to our gate to wait for our flight back to Chicago (and the icky Illinois winter). Rita and Jan met us at O'Hare but we would stay with Rita that night before heading home. She wanted Lisa to try on the dress that she and Bella were working on.
The women who inspired the characters of Marti and Emily would have, I think, gladly been our sugar mommas, at least for a while. The sex was good but we both found their lives really kind of hollow. Money isn't everything, but having it is better than not having it. I love hearing from you, Dear Readers, even when you catch my mistakes; it makes me a better writer. Contact me at cattingcindy@yahoo.com and please donate at https://donate.nifty.org