I, Kimberly, will tell the story that Randy shared with me. I shall describe myself since you will see early in the story what my “competition”- his stepmother looks like. Since Randy is going to describe Margarita by comparing her to a movie star I will say that, myself, I look like Audrey Hepburn, the late actress, tall and on the thin side. So then here is our story told from Randy’s perspective.
The story.
In order for my father to marry my mother he had to offer me as a sex surrogate since he was gone overseas most of the time in his work. This might be startling to the average person on first hearing but it is a fact. Sadly he died in a car crash in the country of Qatar last year. I would have been even more depressed about this but my sexual relationship with his wife, Margarita, my stepmother, was solid by then.
It was at my father’s funeral, where I met Kimberly, the daughter of one of my father’s friends. Soon after that meeting I asked her for a date and it was not long before we were in love. Even though I was still grieving over the loss of my father I still had enough emotion of love that I asked her to marry me.
I felt I had to be honest and I told Kimberly about my intimate relationship with my stepmother, Margie, which was short for Margarita. I explained that the relationship arose out of a practical solution which my dad worked out to sexually satisfy his wife (my stepmother) when he was gone. Now I admitted that both of us were very reluctant to terminate it. I asked Kimberly to meet with Margie. I told Kimberly that I truly loved her and do not see myself ever wanting to marry anyone except her. However, she needs to understand that Margie and my lives were so entwined physically that we feel we would lose too much of who we are if we split. We were and still are both very highly charged sexual beings. Kimberly, as expected, was shocked about this side of my life but she was willing to meet with us both before making a decision.
At an up-scale East Coast restaurant. Smooth quiet Jazz featuring Coltrane’s saxophone is playing in the background
My stepmother, Margie, and I (Randy) are sitting at a table in a classy East Coast restaurant. She is on my right. She is a beautiful Hispanic-American woman who is wearing a blue deep V-neck club dress with cross- over straps and open sleeves. The cleavage exposes most of her dark melon-size breasts. She looks very similar to Selma Hayek, the actress.
I am wearing a plain light yellow dress shirt with open collar and gray slacks. My fingers are tapping the table since I am anxious which I am sure the reader can understand. My fiancée Kimberly walks into the restaurant and spots me sitting with the Margie. I rise and greet her and seat her on my left. She is wearing an Ashanti ivory-colored open-neck top. Some bare midriff shows above designer tight jeans. Kimberly’s shirt partially exhibiting orange-size breasts are nothing compared to Margie’s.
Margie smiles and offers her hand across me so I lean back, “I have been so much looking forward to meeting you, Kimberly.”
“I too have been looking forward to meeting you, Mrs. Richards. (Margarita Richards is my stepmother’s name which is of course the same as my last name.). Randy has told me a lot about you. But please call me ‘Kim,’ since I think we are going to be close friends for a long time - at least I hope so.” She smiles and the women shake.
Margie responds, “It’s just Margie, Kim. It is a pleasure getting to meet you.”
I ask the two, “Should we eat first and then chat afterwards or just go with drinks now and start our chat? You ladies are in charge for the evening.” It goes without saying that this is a delicate and important time for these two women to decide if they can share the same man, namely me.
They elect to go with the drinks and then talk business. I signal for the waitress who arrives and we all order the special, Golden Margaritas.
Margie asks, “Kim, Randy tells me that he told you how I took his virginity - so you are ahead of me. How about balancing the exposure? “
Kimberly is not fazed by the bluntness of the question because Randy warned her Margie was direct. Besides, Margie has a point.
“Glad to, but let’s wait for the drinks.” We study menu and make small talk until the Margaritas arrive.
The waitress arrives with our drinks, just the way I like them – a huge bowl glasses with a salted rims. We order our main courses. The women select seared scallops in a tarragon white wine sauce and I order a large steak, medium rare.
Kim points out, “Randy, I read recently that a large meal in your stomach draws the blood to digest it instead of going into an erection.”
The waitress’ eyes pop out. I say to her, “In that case, ma’am, I would like a petite filet mignon, instead. Thank you.” The waitress turns with a smile.
The drinks soon lubricate the conversation.
“So you want me to tell you how my cherry was popped?” Kimberly asks. A woman who is with a young female, probably her daughter, at the next table perks up her ears at this statement and leans back in her chair towards us.
“Fair enough. I was in a swimming class at Xavier Catholic High School here. Sister Edwina, the teacher, was holding me up in the pool showing me how to do the American Crawl. She had long narrow fingers which had long finger nails which were unusual for a nun because it was considered too worldly. I remember wearing a hideous one - piece bathing suit that had our school name on it. It was a little big for me and it sure was ugly.”
“I was prone on top of the water. Sister was supporting me with her left hand on my pubic one and her right was resting on one of my thighs. All of a sudden with the right had she jabbed two fingers with their sharp nails deep into my slit until they pierced my hymen. I knew it was coming but I still jumped at the sharp pain. It really hurt but the pain was gone in a couple of minutes.”
“Some of the girls who were next to me thought I was a poor swimming student but the older ones knew what was happening. Sister Edwina was not only the swim teacher but the school swim coach too. All the girls who wanted to be on the swim team had to go through this ritual with Sister. It was a kind of ‘coming of age’ event for us. Behind her back, we called her ‘Sister Edwina Scissorshands.’ I think she is still the coach at the school. Incidentally, I never did make the swim team.”
Margie replies, “That was an unrequited sacrifice.”
“Yeah, and I think it delayed me from appreciating the pleasures of Lesbianism.”
The upper crust mother at the next table who was eavesdropping caught herself before her chair tipped completely over.
Kimberly answers, “We did not care. We thought it was intriguing besides we would rather lose our cherry this way than risk embarrassment with a guy later on. It was just a rite of passage.”
Kimberly then got down to business, “Mrs. Richards.”
“’Margie’, please.”
“Sorry. Margie, I appreciate that Randy told me that you two have a very special relationship.”
“Yes, Randy and I agreed we need to be open and honest with you, and if possible, to continue our physical relationship with each other. As he told you, his father was not at home most of the time due to the nature of his employment. And, as a relatively young woman, I had certain needs. Now I…I”
My fiancée (Kimberly) interjects, “Margie, don’t cry - please don’t. I can understand the difficulty. I am very sexual myself so I am sympathetic to your …or should I say – our predicament. You were still a young woman and I realize your expectation was a reasonable one. If you could not be accommodated, there was no way you would marry Don, his father. I’d feel the same way if my sex partner was not available.”
As Kim converses I note she leans over to give Margie and me a better view of her cleavage. She wants to accent her own assets to sell herself in negotiating this new relationship.
Kimberly turns to me, “Randy, I know this is a little awkward for you but I think Margie and I can answer the question of compatibility in just a few minutes if we have some privacy.”
“Listen, ladies, I will gladly step outside and let you have your chat.”
“No, Honey, why don’t you stay here and pay the bill. Margie and I just need to visit the ladies’ room for a bit of a chat, don’t we Margie?’
“Yes, I am sure we can. But before we go I have I have a little quiz for our man- of- the- evening. Randy, do you see that young female with the glasses at the next table sitting across from her mother who has been listening in to our conversation.”
I answered, “Yes.