As the apartment door swung open, Mildred stepped in, calling for her friend.
"Doris, it's me. Are you home?"
Mildred was entrusted with a key to Doris' apartment, and because of their close friendship, they both just walked in on each other day or night. This evening, Doris had gone out to visit one of her kids for dinner, and Mildred, lonely for company, came calling.
The older of the two, she being sixty-four, thought of herself as Doris' guardian. Although a little nosey and opinionated in her friend's matters, she was very loyal. Mildred divorced her husband Randy five years earlier. Randy was a choice name for the bastard because that was what he was, randy. Not with Mildred though. With her he was demanding, insulting, non-attentive and just plain mean.
No one understood why she stayed with him for thirty years in a childless, unhappy marriage. She more than suspected him fooling around, having seen invoices for more than one occupant in a hotel bill when he was away on sales meeting trips. He claimed they were male associates who roomed with him. She was never included on any of these sales "vacations". At home he would rather watch porn movies than make love to his wife, and on the rare occasion that he did have sex with her, it was fast and selfish.
She had had enough, and it came to a head when attending the funeral of Harry, Doris' husband. Randy made a pass at one of Harry's attractive daughters, forty years his junior. She waited till they got home that night and ripped in to him like never before. Never having spoke to him like that, it threw him off, but empowered her. She kicked his ass out of the house with just his clothes and warned him that unless he signed the house and contents over to her she would make his life miserable in the court room.
So began Doris and Mildred's life in the apartment complex together. A unit opened up shortly after Harry's death, and Mildred, with a load of cash after selling her house and getting a substantial settlement from Randy, moved in next door to her long time friend.
The sad part of Mildred's life, as Doris knew, was that she had never been loved by a man and this caused her to distrust and be critical of them. When Harry was alive, Doris refrained from describing tender moments of affection or love making that occurred between them. Mildred spoke openly of her distaste for men's "things in their pants" and showed absolute ignorance to any knowledge of an orgasm.
Mildred enter the apartment, calling for Doris as she went room to room. Finally reaching the bedroom and seeing it empty from the hallway, she was about to return to the living room when she noticed the far door ajar. Whenever she was visiting, this door was always kept locked and her friend shrugged off her questions about it.
"Oh, it's a storage room for some of Harry's favorite things," Doris would say.
Walking up to it and pushing the door open, Mildred walked into darkness.
"Doris, are you in here?"
With no reply she felt for a light switch and flipped it on. The bedside table lamp dimly lite the room, but enough for her to see, causing her to stand in shock amidst her surroundings. Mirrored walls, red silk sheets, rope and chains everywhere.
"My god," she thought. "What the hell is all this?"
Walking up to the wall table, she picked thru things that were strange to her. Nipple clamps, a crop, bottles of oil and a long flesh colored rubber thing. Mildred lifted it up and discovered she was holding what looked to her like a man's penis, maybe two of them. Actually, it was a double headed dildo, eighteen inches long.
She held it close to examine it. She wiggled it. She sniffed it. She smacked it in her hand.
"What does someone do with this awful looking thing," she wondered, with an attitude.
Mildred was miffed with the whole scene in this room. It was decadent.
"Why would Doris and Harry have this junk. Why put leather on this wall with chains hanging from it. What is this horrible thing in the middle of the room. It looks like something for torture." All these thoughts were whirling about in her head as she stood there still holding the dildo.
"Excuse me, are you using that?" came a voice from the door.
Mildred was startled and reacted by hiding the large appendage behind her. It was Tom, who had noticed Doris' front door open, and was checking things out. Standing in the doorway he saw Mildred, who he knew was Doris' friend and his neighbor. He also saw that she was standing by the table with all of Doris' toys. He could only guess what lay there if she hadn't put them away.
The interesting thing about encountering Mildred was that since being with Doris the other night, and seeing her beauty, he had a completely different opinion of older women. Now Tom was giving them his undivided attention.
Just today he had a conversation with a bank teller who had attended to him in the past whom he never took notice of before. He saw that she had a lovely smile, and large hazel eyes. In her fifties and slightly plump, he would have done his business and left, but today he lingered and flirted with her. She had taken a scrap of paper and written her number down and slid it to him. He took it and gave her a wink before he left the bank.
Back to the present... Tom was now looking Mildred over. He saw that she was around Doris' age, but looked more serious. She had short, light brown hair with gray streaks. Standing in sandals she was 5' 8''and thin but not skinny. Mildred was wearing tan short shorts and a yellow, stretchy bandeau top. He saw that she was holding something in her hands, held behind her back.
"You're Tom, Doris' neighbor. What are you doing in here?"
"I could ask you the same question. I saw the door open and being a good neighbor, thought I better check it out. It's Mildred, right?" asked Tom.
"I'm Doris' oldest friend", she answered, irritated. "I have a key!"
"Oh, forgive me," he retorted as he walked across the room towards her.
