(Before we begin, please remember this story is totally a fiction. All the names, places and situations do not represent any real people or places. All characters are over 18. To make sense of this story, you should start at the beginning with chapter 1. A brief note. My stories are stories not just sex scenes. When I write I love to give background and context to the lives of my characters. I like to think they are slow burns. If you find them not to your liking, Please move on, but I hope you stay and enjoy Margaret's journey to the end. Please fill free to make a comment or send me ideas on what should happen next. I do hope you enjoy)
--- Maggie
Recap
So just three weeks before the wedding I broke it off with Kenny, packed my things and left town. Actually, I fled town, not having the courage to face my mother and explain why I was leaving. Just a short note left on the kitchen table. I felt empowered by the words of encouragement to seek my dream from my dad. So, at twenty-two I left home to begin my search for "more." I decided the best course of action would be for me to head to New York and go to work for him.
Now Chapter 3
My mom and dad's marriage just existed. She was a workaholic and a "nose to the grindstone" individual with clear expectations of the future and the road to get there. Her world revolved around cooking, cleaning and taking care of her husband and children, just as her mother and her grandmother before her. She was content living in this small town and never leaving. She understood her role as wife and mother and she thought she had married a man that would provide a stable steady income to take care of her and their growing family and had the same vision of the future.
Married at eighteen just out of high school the pair seemed a good match. My mom the happy homemaker and my dad having a good paying job at the local clothing store. Working hard for several years, they saved bought a house and my dad finally became the store manager. My mom cooked and cleaned and cleaned some more, volunteering several days a week at various community groups.
My parents had sex twice during the week and on Saturday nights after the children went to bed. It was always with the lights out and my mom was never completely in the nude. Mom never enjoyed sex and I don't remember much public intimacy between them as I was growing up. I don't think she ever saw dad's penis, let alone touched it or tasted it. Sex was a wife's role in life and taking her husband's seed into her body, her wifely duty. There was no foreplay and no Passion. My mother only allowed the missionary position. (I learned most of this years later, when mom was preparing me for my own marriage to Kenny.) I don't think my mother ever had an orgasm either by her own hand or with her husband. My dad turned his sexual frustration into working more hours at his business.
It was when Dad became store manager that things changed between them. Turned out He wanted more both intimately and professionally. He dreamed of a different life beyond this small community with its puritanically ways and had bigger plans for the future. My dad discovered online retailing and began a small online business. Who would have thought online retailing would be the wave of the future. After several small attempts, He finally found his niche. He wanted to move to a larger more liberal city.
He was convinced, with a new home, he and his wife could grow more of a shared intimacy far away from the old fashion values instilled from their birth place. He wanted to expand his business with new contacts and more opportunities. She was adamant that they were staying put, where they both had been born, grew up and lived all their lives. She wanted the life of her mother and her grandmother and was content, he wanted more.
Every evening after dinner, we could hear them arguing. The arguments grew louder and more heated as the months moved on. Soon the only thing they shared were the two daughters that they loved deeply. My dad wanted "more" and asked her for a divorce. They tried a marriage counselor, but in the end their partnership slowly dissolved to nothing.
After the divorce Dad developed an alliance with a major online shopping venue, based in Seattle. I know you know the name. This was the break he needed and his small online business took off and expanded. At the suggestion of some people, he met through his networking, he decided a move to New York City. He felt it was the best location for the type of clothing and accessories he wanted to sell. He made his own place in the online fashion trade, slowly branching out selling a fashion line for women on a budget. Soon he was not just selling but designing his own line of clothing and selling them to women at discount prices. His company was formed and he had his own brand name. He called his clothing line, MK Affordables.
He named it after me, Margaret and my sister Kelly. It was his way of remembering his children. It started out as a small online outlet and after lots of hard work his fashion concept took off and MKA developed into a thriving online retailer.
When I fled my small home town after the breakup with my boyfriend just weeks before our wedding and my failed attempts to find a girlfriend. It made sense to head to New York and work for him. He welcomed me with open arms. It was here that I started to find my "more," just as he had years before. I did not yet realize how trapped I was by my small-town breeding.
I began working for my dad's company. I enjoyed the work and found I was good at it. With his encouragement, I recognized my self-worth for the first time as a woman in the business world. My life was not defined by having to have a man in my life and be married. I was my own woman. Every morning as I dressed and put on my make up, I looked in the mirror and worked on my new attitude and confidence. These early morning pep talks filled me with the longing and desire for a female lover. I came out of the closet, declared myself gay publicly. Silly me, the face looking back was still the innocent naïve twenty-two-year-old girl from the small town, not a worldly Lesbian woman.
I knew I wanted a girlfriend, certainly one with benefits. Just didn't know how to begin to find one. My only lesbian relationship had been with Alice and she had seduced me. She was subtle, but from the beginning to the end she had always been the one in control and took charge. Learning how to find a girlfriend and how to date would have to wait. My first priority was to find a place to live, I didn't want to live with my father indefinitely.
Finding an apartment and my first Girl Friend.
I must admit my apartment search started on a poor note. I opened a neighborhood paper and turned to the apartment for rent section. My first instinct was to find an apartment on my own. After a couple of calls I realized I could not afford to live alone, if I wanted an apartment in a desirable are in the city. So, I turned to the roommate section and began my search. The first four ads I answered were already taken. The next two were in a less than desirable neighborhood. Somewhat discouraged, I continued the calls. Reaching the last ad for a female roommate, I dialed the number. Honestly at the time I wasn't thinking a female roommate could also be a female playmate. My only thought was that I needed an apartment and with my income need someone to share expenses.
I called the number in the ad and a woman with a cheerful voice that seemed so full of life answer the phone after just 2 rings. I was delighted to hear that the apartment share was still available. Gail, the woman who answered said that she had a complex interview process to make sure she found someone that would be compatible as a roommate and already rejected several applicants.
I was intrigued and agreed to a telephone interview. Sitting on my bed we began to chat and asked each other questions. The conversation just flowed as so much personal information passed between us surprisingly easily. I told her that I was twenty -two and had recently moved to the city and was living with my dad while I searched for an apartment. Gail told me she was twenty-five and had been living in the city for two years. She told me that she was rather set in her ways and her old roommate could not live up to her expectations. The girl moved out of the apartment suddenly and left owing two months of her share of the rent. Gail was in a bind and without a new roommate she could not afford to stay in the apartment, but she still had a rigid screening process.
Her parents did not approve of her life style or of her move to New York and she was on her own financially. She had a good job as a graphic designer, but she still needed a roommate to meet the expense of living in the city. She had enough savings to pay last month's rent and probably this month's rent. She was really desperate to find a new flat mate before she was forced to default on her lease. She gave me an estimate of what it would cost to share the apartment and I told her my share of the rent and expenses would be no problem as I was making a sufficient income working for my dad.
By the time we hung up we felt like old friends and very comfortable with each. She made no promises as she said she was still not sure, but invited me to come see the apartment and to continue our talk.
From her description the two-bedroom apartment sounded ideal for me. Gail gave me the address and invited me to visit her home. Wanting to make the best impression, I got dressed in one of my best outfits from work. Choosing a nice white bra and panty set, I pulled on beige pantihose up around my waist. I chose a pants and blouse combination with a matching jacket over it. Looking in the mirror and putting on light makeup, I thought I looked presentable. I wanted to impress Gail that I was a serious business woman seeking a roommate. Still in spite of my efforts to look older and stronger, I could see a meek timid mid-western girl playing dress up.
It did not take me long to find the correct building, it was just short subway ride from my dad's place. A uniformed doorman stood just inside the ornate glass doors as I approached the building. He greeted me politely and called up to Gail's apartment to announced me. I certainly did not have to worry about security in the building. I was impressed by everything I saw; the trees on the street, a full-time doorman and a beautiful tiled lobby, even an older couple leaving the building to walk their dog. I was swept up by the romance of it all.
" Just like the movies," I thought to myself as I looked around waiting for the elevator.
Gail opened the door to the apartment and greeted me. She was dressed in a light sweater and a form fitting short skirt. She was about my height and it was apparent that she had a trim fit body and nice figure. What struck me most at the time was her smile. It was wide and open and filled her face. It clearly matched the voice on the telephone. Her blond hair reached just below her shoulders and her blue eyes sparkled. She ushered me into her apartment, taking my arm like an old friend. Closing the door, she immediately took charge of our conversation as she led me into the living room. Her manner reminded me of someone.
The short hallway opened into the living area and I followed her in. The room felt nice and cozy. Looking around the room, it was decorated just the way I would have chosen, comfortable, but not overdone. I could see into the kitchen, a counter with two wicker stools arranged side by side separated the two rooms. She showed me the bedroom that would be mine. She explained that there was one shared bathroom in the apartment. We walked through a door on the side of the bedroom and directly into the bathroom. It was huge. Gail explained that each bedroom had their own door into the bath as well as the one from the hall. There was a large jacuzzi tub, two sinks with large mirrors above them and lots of vanity space. Plenty of space for two women living together to get ready for work each morning. She told me that we would share kitchen duties, share the cost of groceries and divide all other expenses of the apartment equally.
