Maxine Stone's New Life
Copyright© 2011 by carniegirl
Chapter 26
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 26 - Maxine stone is a retired Air Force Noncom trying to get by in a small town. Her new life is filled with small characters and minor adventures.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Fa/ft Ma/Ma Consensual Reluctant Coercion Gay BiSexual Heterosexual Mystery Oral Sex Anal Sex Masturbation Fisting Transformation Prostitution
I drove straight home from the Waffle House. It was too early for dinner, so I loaded the laundry into the minivan. I drove to one of the two self service Laundromats in our little town. When I arrived, I lugged the two cloth bags into the chrome and glass fronted building filled with washers and dryers.
As I walked by I noticed what appeared to be a mother and daughter folding clothes. I don't speak Spanish, so I have no idea what they were saying, but I could read the English lettering on the homemade sign. WILL DO YOUR LAUNDRY...
I do not know a soul who likes to sit in a Laundromat for almost two hours while reading old golfing magazines. "Excuse me, what do you charge?"
"What do you have?" the young woman asked. I could tell that her mother spoke no English, because she looked at the younger woman even though I was the one speaking.
"I have a load of white clothes and a load of colored clothes. I use a liquid bleach on the white and a dry bleach on the colored clothes. I have the detergent as well as both kinds of bleach."
"Fifteen dollars which includes the cost of the machines."
"How long will it take?"
"You come back in two hours to pick up your clothes."
I was in such a hurry to close the deal that I almost dropped my purse getting the money out. After I paid her, I drove to the Wal-Mart store to buy the few groceries I kept on hand. I kept them just in case I got the urge to cook. After Wal-Mart I gave some serious thought to Helen and Topaz, while I drove to the office to send that email to the Marshal.
I figured the best way to handle the situation was to just print the attachments from Bill the Marshal. I could just pass them along without any editing. My only concern was to keep Helen's name off any documents flying back and forth between us.
I got my grocery shopping done, my e-mail sent, and still had time for a look around the dollar store. I bought a plastic box to store cans of soup on my metal shelves. In other words, other than finding the Mexican ladies to do my laundry, it was a typically boring evening.
After I recovered my clothes, I drove home. Once inside the house, I planned to stay right there until the next morning. Even though I never bothered to buy a TV, I watched TV shows on the Net. It took a little searching, but it was possible.
I heated the steak dinner while I caught up on the world news. It looked as though Bush's plan to introduce democracy into the Middle East just might work. Of course, it would have its birth in blood, but most governments good and bad were born in blood.
After my dose of world news, I ran down the local news by tapping into the local TV station's website. The steak dinner wasn't bad, when served with the world news. Neither left a good taste in my mouth, but neither made me want to throw up either.
I settled in with a drink. I just lacked the desire to go out for a drink with the boys. Instead I found the dusty bottle of Canadian Club Liquor. Since all I had in the house was diet soda, I made the drink with that to cut the taste of raw liquor.
While I sipped the drink, I dropped into a several adult chat rooms. Men always complained about the number of women who weren't really women. Since I am who I am, I didn't mind at all. I always had a grand time chatting with the other occupants of the sex chats.
When another chatter got too pushy, I just moved on. At my age, I was supposed to have children, so I spent a lot of time explaining that even though I had been married, I didn't have kids. It wasn't often, but now and then, a real conversation broke out. On those occasions someone usually asked if I missed not having kids. I never could find a satisfactory answer to that.
I always considered sex chats interactive pornography and did what most people do to porn. Yes, I masturbated while chatting. I would try to do all the things I claimed that I was doing. There just didn't seem like much sense in not playing along since no one could see me.
On line masturbation was mostly about illusion and mental imagery. It was much easier to have a man shove his nonexistent ten inch penis up my butt there, than to have a man in real life shove his real ten inch penis up my butt. It also hurt a lot less on line.
I have to admit a finger to simulate a man or even woman's tongue on my vulva or clit, just wasn't the same, but it still wasn't bad. Especially if the mental image was strong enough. It was also exciting to relive some of the things I had done, through chat. I told one guy about the rocky horror show experience and I think he came before I finished the story, because he disappeared suddenly.
It was about midnight when I finally found the man who could do it for me. He managed to project a strong sense of being in control even through the ether. The orgasm I had was almost as satisfying as the ones I had in real life. It took me several minutes to recover. I think he liked that I was still around after. He demanded my phone number so I blew him off in the end. The net is about being anonymous to me. It is about not having to deal with baggage, mine or the guy I am chatting with. If I wanted someone real, I would have gone to the Cop Out Club.
I fell onto my small bed and easily slipped into the arms of Morpheus. I should have slept peacefully all night, since I had an orgasm. I usually didn't even turn over after one of those, but the terror came to visit. Now and then I relive events in dreams. Dreams that cause me to wet the bed. Cold sweats that soak the sheets are a price one pays for surviving I suppose.
That night, I was standing behind the driver of a Humvee with my hands gripping a M249 machine gun. I never planned to use it, since we weren't even going through Indian country. It was just a drive in the country, so they said. My Hummer was running escort for a dry stores convoy from the air field to the forward detachments. None of them were outside the supposed secure area. I wondered who decided what the fuck the definition of secure was on any given day.
The first truck in the three truck convoy took the charge of a radio detonated IED. Then rocket grenades started to come in. I tried to do some damage with the SAW, but I didn't even get one complete belt off before the RPG blew my hummer over. I got tossed clear but not without a piece of metal in my belly. I awoke in the bed with wet sheets.
I prefer my sheets wet for a different reason. Terror, as well as good sex, literally stinks up the room. I knew there was no sense trying to return to sleep so I didn't. Instead I got out of bed and went over to the kitchen area of my one room cabin. I found the bottle of Benadryl inside a plastic storage box, sitting atop a metal shelf. I took one of the capsules washed down with a swallow of fake orange drink right from the bottle. I kept a bottle of it in the fridge just for that purpose. I took a lot of aspirin and other over the counter meds. I tried to be my own doctor, since I didn't really like the real ones. Even Ed's son was a pain in the ass in my opinion. The Benadryl helped me get back to sleep.
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