In the morning they both showered, Jenny first, and dressed and headed out. Joe bought her eggs over easy, hash browns, coffee and orange juice which he had as well at the corner diner. It was nearly noon, but the diner accommodated.
They headed up to Bloomingdales as promised where Joe shopped distractedly, not really needing anything, while Jenny bought herself some new make-up, getting a makeover/lesson along with it.
They decided to meet in the jewelry section near the make-up area, Joe finding it the best place to waste time. He perused the expensive watches in the glass cabinet, one of the better distractions, when she nudged him with her hip.
"I thought I'd find you at the rings," she smirked. Joe was not a connoisseur of make-up, not around many women who wore it, of if they did, he barely noticed. Punk girls tended to weaponize it, eye make-up like bruises, blue lipstick like they were corpses or an intense and purposely garish red. Those who took it more seriously often looked ridiculous to Joe, overdoing the eyes especially, often the ones who preferred spandex whether it looked good on them or not, and usually not. Not just Joe liked to joke that his club should be called Max's Spandex City.
More than likely the make-up girl had done a good job with Jenny, just in the fact that it was subtle. It did enhance her best traits, her cheekbones, her expressive eyes, probably giving focus to them, but Joe didn't find her more appealing because if it. More an equal attractiveness to him between made up and natural. "You look nice," he told her, and she did. "Would it worry you if I was looking at rings?"
"Maybe," she giggled.
"What jewelry would you want to get?"
"Nothing really. Anything hanging like a necklace or even a bracelet would just get in the way when I dance. You didn't get anything?"
"I don't really need anything, and besides, with my height, it can be frustrating finding anything that fits."
"I could use some underthings."
"Then let's get you some."
Joe hovered at the periphery of the ladies underwear area, not all that comfortable there. Jenny grabbed up bikini cut panties, white and black, and panty hose, but lingered in the bras, looking at lacy ones and ended up buying white, red and blue ones and some matching panties for them. She finished with a cream colored slippery chemise and brought them over to Joe. "You sure?" she asked.
"I'm enjoying buying you things," he smiled.
"Okay."
He'd handed her a fifty for her make-up earlier.
"I want to check out the perfume," she decided.
The one she decided on after a few scent tests ended up the most expensive thing bought, especially considering the size of the bottle, but Joe thought it smelled nice, even sexy on her.
They headed west, Jenny wanting to see Broadway and Forty-Second Street, Joe warning her the latter was pretty sleazy.
"All the better," she giggled.
They went through Central Park after visiting some high fashion boutiques on Madison Avenue, Jenny commenting about the latter places, "And I thought Bloomingdales was expensive."
They exited Central Park at Columbus Circle, Joe leading her uptown a little to show her Lincoln Center, especially the Henry Moore reflecting pond and the two large Chagalls in the window. They ate at Carnegie Deli despite the wait, and Jenny enjoyed the overstuffed corned beef sandwich and the attitude of the old waiter, charming and wise ass at the same time. Joe turned her on to Celray soda.
Next he purposely headed them down a street which had a haberdasher, a place his uncle had turned him onto and who had his size for custom shirts and for suits. He'd bought one of the latter there but only wore it once. The extra money had him order a couple more shirts, one cream and the other black (at Jenny's insistence) and he tried on some sports jackets his size, none of them appealing to him until he saw a charcoal gray suit with light fabric and a slim lapel. The pants ending up riding high, no surprise, but the tailor claimed there was enough fabric to let down perhaps somehow anticipating Joe. The price bordered on being too high, perhaps even crossing that border, but Joe finally succumbed, and changed the cream shirt to white since he thought it would work better. He had it tailored and would pick it up early the next week.
A couple storefronts down, actually upstairs, was his other preferred clothing store, actually a shoe store that catered to larger sizes. He bought a couple of pairs of cool socks there, and this time Jenny insisted he try on some low slung high heeled Italian boots. Normally he avoided anything that would make him taller, but the reasonable price and the cool look had him succumb.
Weighed down, Joe and Jenny finally strolled down the Great White Way. Unlike when he and his family visited the city, Joe hadn't been to a Broadway play since he moved to Manhattan. They shopped the marquees, and it didn't surprise Joe that Jenny preferred to see a musical while Joe swung towards seeing a regular play, either Streamers which had won its share of Tony's, or the Belle of Amherst about Emily Dickinson and featuring the amazing Julie Harris. Still, A Chorus Line had sounded kind of interesting.
Unfortunately A Chorus Line remained sold out, no chance of getting half price tickets at TKTS in Times Square. The choice became between the Dickinson play ("Because you're a poet too," Jenny explained) and a review musical promising lots of dancing, which Joe decided he'd choose for Jenny, although he'd probably enjoy it himself, when Jenny stopped their advance towards the window. "Maybe another time," she said. "I could use a rest."
So they moved out of the way and headed to 42nd Street.
"Holy shit," Jenny proclaimed.
"I told you," Joe chuckled.
There were places to watch filmed sex and even places advertising live sex and between cheap souvenir stores, stores that sold kinky items for sex. Women walked around in their fluorescent colored hot pants advertising for sex with them. And more than one guy whispered to them about drugs, making Joe wonder why anyone would buy any on that street, a street obviously about the hustle.
Jenny pulled Joe into a sex boutique and giggled about the dildos, some as fluorescent as the whores' shorts. She asked Joe if he'd ever watched a dirty movie and Joe admitted he had. Jenny wanted to watch one too.
Joe chose one that actually looked like it might be okay, The Opening of Misty Beethoven, and they found seats away from most of the clientele, the sticky floors a bit unnerving, and it smelled of sex somewhat, of semen mostly. They arrived fairly early on in the movie.
It ended up being a lot better than expected, well shot and well acted with clever dialogue at times. The many sex scenes made Joe hard throughout and Jenny noticed, her hand moving to his lap, rubbing the lump there which Joe had adjusted so it went down his left thigh. Her mouth went to his ear, breathing and nibbling and whispering, "I wish I could take it out and suck it." No one else was in their row, but people arrived unpredictably. Joe did rub back, and Jenny surprised him by undoing her pants so that he could slip his hand underneath them and her panties and rub her warm wet pussy directly. "It's not the film so much," she whispered into his ear, her breath continuing to make him tingle as did her lips nipping at it, "It's imagining what you'd do with me with that cock."
Not long after Joe came in his pants, making Jenny giggle and moan a little. Joe kept up his assault, fingering her pussy, and noticed her pinching her nipples, their angling towards each other helping hide it somewhat, and eventually she too succumbed to orgasm, a quiet moan and a shiver and his fingers wetted by girl cum. By then he'd got hard again, and after Jenny zipped and buttoned back up, her hand returned there, although with much less aggression in her rubs.
They watched until the end, because, as mentioned, it was a pretty good movie, great for being porno, and they even debated whether to watch from the beginning to see what they missed, but decided to go. Luckily his black jeans didn't show the semen stain.
They caught a taxi and got dropped off at Joe's apartment. After both pissed, and Joe cleaned off some of the semen on his penis, they finally enjoyed naked contact with their genitals, a sixty-nine to begin and then Jenny covering his cock and riding it, slow at first and loving, but soon becoming a gallop until she came and then Joe had them turned over for him to fuck her, holding back at the end for her to meet his orgasm with hers.
They cuddled afterwards and napped.
The sky had darkened by the time they awoke. They decided to dress despite the remnants of their earlier sex, both in black jeans and t shirts covered in jackets, the uniform of punk rock, and headed out, nodding at the roommates kicked back in the shared space.
Joe bought them dinner at a Wimpy's, both starving which had quickened their dressing and leaving, and walked the several blocks to Max's.
It was relatively early there, though the restaurant was at least three quarters full, all his waiter and busboy friends giving Joe a nod. He and Jenny sat at the usual booth where Gene (another Gene), the night manager, tended to sit, next to the cash register where the beautiful sister of Blondie's piano player worked. Gene was a tall and handsome man often flirting with regular female customers, very charming and extremely relaxed as a boss.
After introductions, Joe asked if Jenny might work as an upstairs waitress.
"Any experience?" Gene asked Jenny.
"No," Jenny admitted.
"Are you old enough?" Gene chuckled.
Jenny showed him her ID.
"Just," Gene smirked.
"Anne's working upstairs," Joe figured since she always seemed to work weekends.
"You're lucky Candy's under the weather, the way Jim looks the same they must have partied a bit too hard," Gene shook his head. Candy was the bleach blonde and Jim the busboy they'd met before, and indeed Jim looked a bit green.
