This story is my first new piece of fiction in over ten years and was inspired by a request from a kind reader of my first posting: 'The Salon Pt. 01'
I love suggestions for new stories and can't wait to find out where future, yet-to-written installments will take us. As always your feedback is greatly appreciated.
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Not for the first time Marion felt a smouldering resentment building inside of her as she watched the girls of her gym class at a prestigious university. Their reluctance to actually do anything they were told was matched only by their need to preen themselves and avoid disturbing their hair & makeup. As usual the class had formed into several cliques which took turns in criticising each other or generally picking on the poor souls who weren't aligned to one group or another.
The biggest clique called themselves The Plastics in tribute to some teen flick from the 90's and at its head stood two girls that epitomised all that Marion hated about this new generation of teens. Piper and Angel ruled The Plastics with an iron fist and were brutal in their pursuance of style-perfection. If you weren't wearing the very latest in haut-couture or if, god-forbid, you displayed so much as an ounce of body-fat, they poured scorn and condescension on you with boundless enthusiasm.
Marion looked regretfully at the two 18-year old ring leaders and thought for a moment of what they could have achieved in a sport such as gymnastics, if only they had applied themselves. Marion was a former college basketball player and swimmer who had once cried out for the national team. Although now in her late forties, her six foot frame was still often described as statuesque and her figure which was just on the feminine side of muscular was helped by regular games of basketball in the local seniors league and swimming at least a mile three times a week. She had absolutely flawless black skin, a strong jaw line and bone-structure that most women would die for. Her hair was cut in the latest style: swept back from the front with the sides cut really short with clippers. This vision of am ebony Amazonian queen was usually adorned with classic, smart yet feminine clothes copied from the pages of Vogue or Elle magazine.
Despite a stellar sporting career and part-time career as a motivational speaker that left her very confortable financially, Marion was not content. Her personal life had never quite got going as it always seemed to take second place to her sport, career or innate sense of decorum. For Marion, manners, etiquette and her standing in the community were paramount. Maybe that was why she resented the two girls so much? Her mind wandered as she considered how she had come to this outwardly successful yet inherently lonely place.
Marion observed Piper as she stood at the end of the gym, huddled with her co-conspirator Angel. Piper was in many ways the direct opposite of Marion: barely eighteen years old yet already absolutely certain of her place in the world, that she knew everything and that she was intrinsically superior to everyone else. She was generally either describes as super-petite or just tiny. She was barely 4' 10" tall and had such a petite waist that she often had to have either the smallest sized clothes taken in. She had a pert little derriere from years of walking on tip-toes to try and make herself look taller and the smallest of firm yet soft breasts. She wore her hair in a mid-length blonde bob fashioned by the city's most expensive hair salon and her lips seemed to be set in a near permanent pout.
Marion turned her attention to Angel and noticed that while she was taller than her friend Piper would still struggle to top five feet in height. She too was impossibly slim but had the sort of figure that defied logic: her tiny waist flowed down into a near flat bum, there was hardly any curve there at all. Indeed her figure could easily have been described as boyish if it weren't for the two large, smooth and firm breasts that sprung from her chest as if gravity had no effect on them at all. She had a thin, pixie-like face with large round and very blue eyes all set off by long, straight blond hair that flowed down to the small of her back.
Marion struggled to push unfamiliar feelings from her mind as she observed the two friends and realised that despite her exclusively heterosexual dating history she was now feeling something more than resentment as she watched them from the corner of her eye. Marion shook herself out of her reverie and was disgusted with herself for even considering such emotions, she was a pillar of the community and a much-respected athletics coach in one of the country's top universities. Such feelings simply would not do she told herself.
As the class was dismissed and worked its way out of the gym, Marion put such thoughts out of her mind and she started thinking about her planned evening out with her best friend. She had bought a new outfit for the occasion and was looking forward to showing it off in some of towns trendiest bars...
...Marion looked once more at the clock above the bar and couldn't believe it was only nine-thirty as she sat alone on a tall bar stool nursing a large glass of red wine. Despite a good start the night had come to a premature end as her friend baled early due to some family emergency or another and now as she admired her own reflection in the full length mirror behind the bar she once again felt very alone.
She looked at her glass and briefly felt a glow of satisfaction as she considered how her crisp white blouse was set off beautifully by her own dark skin and the smooth black leather of her tight black, mid-length shirt. She secretly loved how the leather hugged and caressed her figure and the restriction of the tight material started to stir a warmth down in her core. Marion started planning an early return to her condo and a night of pleasuring herself while dressed in one of her favourite leather outfits...
"Hello Miss Smith, what are you doing here?" The question snapped Marion out of her little day-dream and she turned to see Piper and Angel standing behind her. How long had they been their she wondered? Had they watched her day dreaming and guessed at her sordid secret?
The three settled into an easy conversation and moved to a quiet booth as Marion marvelled at this unexpected turn of events. She chose not to question what two eighteen year-olds were doing in a bar late on a Friday night and allowed herself to be flattered by their attention, as the drinks flowed and the hours passed Marion's sense of contentment rose and she even started to wonder if these petite little fire-crackers were flirting with her. Maybe it was the alcohol but for some reason that idea didn't repel Marion like she thought it should.
As the bar started to close another realisation dawned on Marion: she was far too wasted to get home without assistance and thus reluctantly accepted when Piper 'insisted' that they get her home safe. As Marion stumbled into the cab, she could have sworn that she caught Angel looking down the front of her blouse and her ample cleavage yet failed to think anything was untoward when she felt Pipers hand through the leather of her skirt on her firm right buttock. Surely she was just lending a helping hand? Right?
Somehow she made it into her apartment okay and slumped onto her large sofa with relief. Angel busied herself in Marion's' kitchen while Piper sat very close to her on the settee. To be honest Marion was only partially concentrating on the conversation, she was struggling to suppress new feelings, unwanted feelings as Piper pouted, fawned and flirted outrageously. She nearly jumped right out of the seat when Pipers hand started to trace a line down her thigh on the smooth black leather of her skirt. By now Marion was starting to feel very warm but as she struggled to work out what was going on, an unfamiliar warmth started to rise from between her legs.
