Chapter 7, In which Jenny and I come to an understanding
It was mid-afternoon and instead of walking into a meeting downtown, I was gazing out the car window at suburbia. My friend Jenny was driving, since she was familiar with the area.
I turned back to study Jenny with mixed feelings. She was an attractive girl, only a year younger than I -- I'd seen her license -- and quite vivacious once I'd gotten past her shell. Twenty-four hours ago, she'd been a waitress working the respectable side of the Bad Hoss, the restaurant and strip club where we'd met. Since then, I'd introduced Jenny to a lot of things good girls didn't do.
Jenny noticed me looking and flashed the same happy smile she'd worn when she posed nude for her application photo an hour ago, about the same time I'd learned she'd been a member of her school's Purity Club years ago. Starting that night, she'd be the Bad Hoss's newest dancer. It still seemed like a big change; I wished I was taking it as well as she was.
"Loosen up, Linnea," she encouraged me. "Estelle still works at the salon, and Hattie says she has a real good reputation. Apparently people come from all over to see her -- maybe not as far as you," she added with a laugh.
"It's not that," I assured her, mostly truthfully. My life had gotten awfully complicated since I'd met my girlfriend, Stacey. She practiced magic, which sounded preposterous, except I couldn't argue with the results. I'd never been attracted to girls before I'd met her, but she'd turned me onto cunnilingus in a big way. There was nothing that turned me on as much as licking Stacey, except maybe watching her cum on my busy tongue.
Or getting sodomized by Michael. He was my other roommate, the gay boyfriend of my dead brother, and Stacey's sponsor at some "Mind Controllers Anonymous" group. I'd been helping him grieve for the loss of my brother, but it had turned into something more than that.
In retrospect, it was clear both of them had done something to me -- besides the sex -- but I didn't care about that, it felt so good being with them. There had been some tension because Stacey didn't like to share me, but I'd been working on it. I shuddered to think what would happen if she learned the truth about this trip.
What she knew already was bad enough. I'd tried to use some of her magic on one of my big clients so I could make a sale and improve our living situation with a hefty bonus. Somehow I'd screwed up and gotten things backwards. After a long evening with my Neanderthal sexist pig clients, I was exactly the sort of cock-craving slut they imagined all attractive women to be.
I didn't regret that, either. I could remember when my attitudes had been different, but it felt like some other person -- not me. I knew Stacey wouldn't like it, but at least I'd closed the sale. Anyway, it was just sex, and not love like I felt for her. I was left with just two problems.
The first problem was that Stacey had flat-out told me to refrain from sex until I got home and she could help "fix" me. Assuming I needed fixing; I didn't really think anything was wrong with me. It was a hard thing to do, and in fairness to Stacey, she realized it. That was why she'd told me to get my pussy pierced, as a reminder.
My second problem was sitting beside me. I really, really liked Jenny; we both had the same cravings for cock and pussy and were totally compatible with each other. It was like we'd been best friends for years, and I knew Stacey would blow a gasket if she found out, because my feelings for Jenny weren't just about the sex. I loved Stacey, but I feared I was cheating on her emotionally with Jenny.
Jenny didn't know about Stacey, either. How could I share so much with her, and not tell her I loved somebody else more? I couldn't. I also worried her live-in boyfriend, Dan, might not be so understanding about her new lifestyle. He'd seemed accommodating enough in the hotel room last night, but would he be happy to learn he wasn't sharing her with just me? Men could be so funny, sometimes.
A tiny corner of my mind wanted to urge Jenny to be faithful and considerate of his feelings, but it was swamped by the rest of me, which wanted to jump right in and get fucked every which way, too.
"Cheer up!" Jenny repeated. "You haven't done anything wrong! I wasn't really happy with that waitressing job anyway, and you helped me square everything with Darryl so it's better than before." She gave me a quick look before returning her attention to the road. "And whoever you're frettin' about will understand; I just know it."
I straightened in my seat. "What?"
She laughed gently. "You look like a dog waitin' to be kicked. You think you're cheatin' on somebody, don't you? Let me guess: you've got a woman back home."
It was a little uncanny how well she'd read me. I'm sure I flushed a little. "Smart girl. Why don't you explain things to me? I'm feeling a little stuck, myself."
Jenny laughed delightedly. "I knew it! See, I knew you weren't getting this ring for yourself, not when you're still wearing clip-ons. It had to be for somebody else, and it surely isn't me. I guessed a girl, 'cause a guy would have asked for a boob job instead, and you know your way around a pussy too well."
"You think my tits are too small?" I asked, looking down at the skin exposed by my blouse where the buttons were missing.
"Lord, no," she answered. "I wouldn't change a thing about you, Linnea, except your hang-ups."
"Thanks, I think," I replied weakly.
We turned into the parking lot fronting a nondescript strip mall. Jenny navigated the lot and pulled into a spot near a beauty salon before replying.
"Look, you're from -- wherever -- and I live here. We both knew this wouldn't be more than a short fling. I know the love you feel for me, Linnea; I've felt in the way you've touched me and the way you look at me. I saw the way you went out of your way to help a girl you hadn't even laid eyes on before yesterday."
The look she gave me went straight to my heart before turning south for moister climes. She was so close to having it right, but hadn't accounted for the need to try and put things right where I'd made a mess.
"I just know that anybody with so much heart has plenty left for those she loves -- the same as I know anybody you could love will understand your needs and know that sharing with others don't mean there's less of you for her. Just like Dan and me!"
I could feel tears in the corners of my eyes, and my throat was tight. "You're a gem, Jenny," I choked out, and leaned over to hug her tightly. Her misplaced trust and optimism touched me to the quick, but I needed a friend just then.
Jenny sought out my lips and kissed me, and it might have gone further but for the seatbelts still restraining us. "We'd better go in," she said huskily, "or you're never gonna get your ring."
Regretfully, I decided she was right, and we headed into the salon.
It was a typical establishment, the kind I'd been in many times before, but I looked around with a new appreciation. Not unexpectedly, it appeared to be inhabited solely by women, nearly all of them fairly fashion-conscious. The staff were mostly on the younger side, and the clientele were a mix of coeds out of school for the summer and trophy wives who had no job to interfere with their free time.
My mouth watered at the sight of all those attractive bodies so artfully displayed, and I heard Jenny's soft sigh beside me. I belatedly understood what Stacey had meant when she'd told me about the pull of a hair salon the day we'd met.
"Welcome to Trendz! Can I help you?" asked the receptionist when we approached the front desk.
"Yes," I smoothly answered. "I'm Linnea Richwell, here to see Estelle. We called earlier."
She found my name on the appointment list and lined it out. "I'll let Estelle know you're here, Linnea. Can I get either of you anything to drink? Sparkling water or an iced coffee?" I shook my head.
It turned out Estelle was the oldest woman in the place, with a weathered face and greying hair that made her look old enough to be my mother -- not the most comforting thought. Luckily, she acted younger than she looked, giving the pair of us a friendly smile and escorting us back to a private room at the rear of the salon.
Finally, when we were alone, she got right to business. "Now, Linnea, I understand you're interested in a genital piercing?" Estelle made it sound like she did them all the time, which for all I knew, she did.
