Friday, April 1, 2016

Pearl Handled Pistols and Preparation H


The human always enjoys a good Katie (her past life incarnation) story, so here is one I shared with her last night...

It was a rainy New York day in the spring of 1963 that I'd planned on spending in bed with Roger when got called away on some type of impromptu business meeting. Instead of allowing me to lounge around the hotel room swilling champagne, he forced me to get dressed and dragged me off to lunch at one of the restaurants owned by Katie's husband.

As always, she barged over to our table with a drink in hand and her boobs about to jump out the front of a low cut black silk dress that left me feeling a bit under, or maybe it was over dressed, in my simple cotton pheasant blouse and flowing skirt. I always found Katie to be a tab bit intimidating with her ever present red lipstick, overflowing cleavage, dark hair coiffed in a perfect up-do, and designer clothes. Mind you, I was only 18, finally legal, but pretending to be going on twenty, while she was in her forties. Let's just say, Katie was a presence no matter what time of the day or night we happen to encounter her.

"Why don't you take Dess shopping?" Roger said to Katie, his eyes hovering more toward her breasts than her eyes. "Help her select a new outfit for a night out on the town."

"She sure could use my help," Katie said coldly, as she pursed her red lips.

Roger whipped out his wallet and handed me a stack of bills that made dollar signs dance in her dark eyes.

Well, Katie, paraded me down 5th Avenue and didn't stop until I'd spend almost all of Roger's cash. Then she proceeded to trail me back to our hotel room, determined to get me all preened up for Roger's approval.

I'll admit the black strappy cocktail dress she'd insisted I purchase did make me look much more sophisticated, especially when paired with a pair of dangerous black spiked heels, and fishnet stockings. Roger always did love me in high heels.

After dressing me, she sat me down in front of the vanity to do my face, dumping the contents of her purse on the table to retrieve her makeup. I was shocked to see a pink pearl handled pistol amid gobs of makeup. 

"A girl's always got to be prepared to defend herself," she said, causally holding up the gun. "Graham helped me pick this one out. Isn't it darling?"

My cheeks burned as memories of the few times I'd shared a bed with him. And I have to admit, the very thought of her out gun shopping with the man I would soon grow to adore, made me jealous enough to want to see what else might be in her purse. I couldn't help but to titter at the sight of an almost empty tube of Preparation H

"What's that for?" I said, hoping to embarrass her.

"You mean Roger never shared my little secret with you?"

If she meant that Roger knew she had hemorrhoids, then no, Roger had never been brazen to discuss her asshole with me.

Before I could ponder exactly how Roger would know the condition of her asshole, Katie brazenly went over to his travel bag and pulled out a matching, although less used, tube of hemorrhoid cream. Knowing that there was nothing at all wrong with Roger's fine ass, now she had me quite curious.

"Forget about fancy expensive creams," she said, running to the mirror to dab a little of Roger's cream beneath her eye. "Nothing gets rid of puffy eyes better than this stuff. How else do you think Roger looks so bright eyed and bushy tailed the morning after a night out on the town?"

I'd never given it much thought, but I suppose she did have a point. And the fact that she'd shared such intimate makeup tricks with Roger...

As if she'd read my mind, she said, "Darling, Roger and I go way back." She smiled smugly as she put the tub back in his bag. "I was turning Roger on before you were even born."


After getting me made up she gathered up her accessories and paused when she came to a pretty silver compact with peacocks on the lid, much like the one pictured above. She placed the compact in my hand. "Since you're almost as pretty as a peacock, this should be yours."

"Thanks," I stammered.

"Oh, I've held onto that cheap little thing way too long." She laughed disdainfully. "Ask Roger if he remembers it?"


To be continued...

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