/* This is part of an ongoing story but you can hopefully enjoy it without reading everything that has come before. But (re)reading The Consultant: Neighbor Wives chapters 3 and 4 will fill in the most important backstory.
Of course, everyone depicted as having sexy sex in the story is at least 18 years old.
Thank you all for reading -- I appreciate your ratings and love the comments! */
The Consultant: Moms & Daughters Ch. 02
The afternoon I spent with Zoey was unbelievably hot (and painful) but it was also clearly a one-time thing. And it reminded me that I was actually starting to feel a little lonely, without much in the way of romantic prospects. Of course, I hadn't had any in the months before my time in South Carolina, either -- I'd fallen into some unpredictable sexual situations that had no possibility of turning into something more but I hadn't even come close to meeting anyone that I might be able to start a relationship with.
That thought was in the back of my mind but I didn't worry a lot about it. Work was taking a lot of my time as we started up the second phase of the multi-year project I'd been working on and that left me without a lot of time to fret. I thought about it, but more in the abstract.
I did start going to BarNone a little more often, not always with my camera. They booked a good mix of local bands, touring groups and occasionally some older bands that still played the infrequent gig to crowds of graying fans that had seen them the first time around.
That might sound a little depressing but I was one of those graying fans and I enjoyed seeing people that I'd loved back in the day. They might all be a little thicker around the middle and their hair might be thinning a bit but they still sounded great. Hell, an additional thirty years of practice didn't hurt their playing at all.
I enjoyed seeing the younger bands as well. Music doesn't stand still and there is always someone new to check out. On those nights I usually hung around in the back by the bar, not wanting to creep out the younger crowds or be mistaken for a band dad, unless I had my camera with me.
That's where I found myself on a hot Friday night in the middle of August. I can't even remember the name of the band that was playing. They were okay but I didn't give them much chance to be around in another year. I got there in the middle of their first set, got a beer from Cherie, waved at Ben and then found a place over by the wall where I could see the band past the soundboard.
I had only taken a couple of sips when I heard a female voice behind me saying "excuse me", not in the sorry-I-stepped-on-your-foot way, but in the I-want-to-talk-to-you way. I turned around and looked into a pair of brown eyes that I will never forget.
I pulled my focus back to see the whole picture. She looked to be about my age, around 5'8" or so, with a pretty but uncertain smile and those eyes! Holy crap, those eyes. Amber-brown and deep and sad and damaged but with a spark of... something special. Maybe something wild.
I shook myself like I was coming out of the deep end of a swimming pool and finally found my voice. "Uh, hi, can I help you?" I finally managed.
"Are you Jim? My soon-to-be son-in-law pointed you out," she said, nodding her head back towards Ben behind the bar. He saw me looking and shrugged, but with a grin.
I took a closer look at her and a lightbulb finally went on. "Oh my god, you must be Ramona's mom! Yes, I'm Jim," I said, before realizing that she might be there to cut my balls off for defiling her daughter.
But she smiled and stuck her hand out, and it didn't have a knife in it, so I took it. She said, "I'm Mary. It's good to meet you, Jim. You've become something of a hero in my family, at least the part of it that is still speaking to me."
"I can't imagine why, but I'm happy to hear it," I replied. "And I'm ecstatic about Ben and Ramona! So happy they're getting married!"
"Thanks to you, you know," she said. "They wouldn't have met if it weren't for you. And I don't think I would have gotten myself out of a shitty marriage if you hadn't helped Ramona see the truth so she could show it to me."
I had no idea what to say about that. "Mary, I'm just glad that things are getting better for you and for Ramona. She is a fantastic person and I think the world of Ben. I think they'll be great together."
She smiled at that and then turned towards the band. After listening with me for a minute, she leaned into my ear. "Do you like these guys?" After I shrugged and gave a little shake of my head, she said, "the drummer couldn't keep time with a watch and that girl cannot sing worth a damn. Do you want to go somewhere that we can talk?"
She was right about both -- the bad vocals were obvious but her noting the drummer's lack of talent put the finger on something that had been bothering me since they started. This lady knew her music.
"We could walk over to Midtown Bistro. They usually have some good music on and the food's not bad," I suggested. She nodded and took my arm, waving at Ben as we walked out. I took a moment under the parking lot lights to get a better look at Mary. She filled in a pair of faded jeans quite nicely and the peasant top she was wearing did nothing to disguise her... assets. Unlike her daughter, she was quite well-endowed. As they say, she had all the right things in all the right places.
We walked the two blocks to the bistro, which was in the corner of a strip mall with a small hotel at the other end. It was Friday night so it was crowded but we managed to step up to the bar just as a party of four was called to their table. We quickly snagged a couple of their stools and waved down the bartender.
I admit to being something of a beer snob but I managed to hold my tongue when Mary ordered a Corona Light. We made small talk while the bartender brought over my local craft IPA with her beer and we clinked bottles as Mary made a toast, I assumed to her daughter. "To new beginnings."
I looked back at her and added, "And to new friends."
The conversation started off a little awkward until we got our second round of drinks and started talking about bands that we had seen. We realized that we'd probably been to at least a half a dozen club shows and a couple of big concerts together but separately when we were kids. She had an amazing memory for setlists and other minutia while I was better at remembering band members and origins, even for some fairly obscure bands.
By the third beer, we decided we'd better get something to eat and, being a bit buzzed, we ordered the stuff that was probably worst for us but sounded good at the time. Pretty much anything fried. The fried mushrooms were actually quite good, the fried pickles -- not so much.
My craft IPAs had a higher alcohol content than her watery Mexican stuff but I also had at least 70 pounds on her, so we were probably in similar states of buzzed-ness as we worked our way through our fourth beers. We'd each made at least one trip to the restroom and I noted her weaving a bit on the way back.
I was thinking about suggesting we head out and see if we could get a couple of Ubers home when a familiar harmonica broke through the crowd noise and Mary and I looked at each other and said simultaneously, "I love this song!" We stared into each other's eyes as Springsteen started singing about Mary dancing across her front porch and I waved to the bartender for the check.
By the time Mary's graduation gown was on the ground in the song, I was throwing a bunch of cash onto the bar as Mary grabbed my other hand and pulled us towards the door. She started back to where we had both parked but I had other ideas and pulled her across the parking lot.
This time of year, I was pretty sure there would be rooms available at the little local Hilton Garden Inn. The young woman behind at the small reception counter didn't bat an eye at our mostly inebriated state or our lack of luggage and got busy running my AMEX card and making up room keys.
Mary was already at the elevator, pushing the "up" button repeatedly as if trying to will it to come down and open. I signed on the dotted line and grabbed my ID, credit card and key packet, noting the 4th floor room number as I hurried across the lobby. The elevator doors opened and Mary almost fell into it and I took the remaining few paces at a near run.
I hit "4" then turned, only to have Mary latch onto me and pull me into a frantic kiss, her tongue exploring my mouth as mine did the same with hers. We reached our floor and it was Mary that almost dragged me towards the room, not that I was in any way unwilling. She started trying to unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants as I tried unsuccessfully to swipe the room key, before realizing that I had the card upside down.
The door finally opened after much cursing and we stumbled into the room. I turned to lock it and throw the security bolt and by the time I turned back around, Mary had somehow slid out of her low cowboy boots and her jeans and was lying back one of the queen beds, wearing nothing but a pair of cotton panties and her peasant blouse.
I hopped around the room trying to get my own jeans off, much to Mary's amusement. She leaned up and pulled her peasant top up over her head, revealing an amazing pair of breasts encased in a bra that I barely saw before it joined her blouse on the floor next to the bed.
I just stopped and stared, and I'm sure my jaw dropped. I finally pulled myself together enough to say, "My god, Mary. You are gorgeous!"
She looked both pleased and a little shy. "You mean these old things?" she said, holding her bodacious breasts together and looking down at them. "I've had 'em for years. You like them?"
I just grinned. "Let me show you exactly how much." I finished pulling my jeans off and knelt on the bed next to her, leaning over for another hot kiss before kissing my way along her jawline, down her neck, over her collarbone and finally to her left breast, which she was still holding together with its twin.
