Maxine Stone's New Life
Copyright© 2011 by carniegirl
Chapter 32
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 32 - 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
Edited by Bob Ross
I awoke at 9AM on that damn sofa. My clothes from the day before, appearing to have been washed, folded, and lay in a neat pile on the chair nearest the sofa. I looked around to find that I was the only one in the room. I had no idea where the younger members of our cast were to be found.
Even with my sore muscles, the stinging sensation on my back, and a slight drug induced hangover, I managed to get dressed. To my surprise, even my jaw muscles were sore. That had never happened before, but I had also never been so orally active in one night before. All in all I was in some minor pain, but still in pretty good physical shape over all.
Once completely dressed, I went looking for the others. What I found was the thug outside the door again. He still looked exactly the same, even though I assumed he got no sleep at all.
"Where are the others," I demanded. He gave me one of those superior male smirks. I began turning away, but quickly turned back to him, then without any warning of any kind, I kneed him hard in the balls. As he went down, I stripped him of the rather nasty looking Russian made 9mm pistol. "They just don't make you guys like they used to," I said. "One night of sleep deprivation and you are useless."
He was still in agony when I asked again, "Where are the others?"
"Already gone."
"Thanks for the addition to my gun collection. I knew you wanted me to have this all along. I could just tell. If you change your mind, feel free to come for it anytime." It was a stupid thing to do. I was filled with self loathing that morning and suicide appealed to me. Since I lacked the courage to do it myself, Ivan there looked pretty good for it.
I stuffed the ugly 9mm into my belt, and then I walked not so calmly from the Hazelwood Inn. I did not expect to have one of my better days. As a matter of fact I was surprised when the minivan started on the first try. Maybe the day wouldn't be so bad after all, I thought.
When I saw the address of Reverend Archer's church still clipped to my sun visor, I decided on the spot that I needed church alright, but just not as much as I needed a shower. I drove home quickly, but I was also very careful not to allow anyone to follow me. After all I did have a Russian thug's pistol. Not to mention that I had challenged him to come for it. The more awake I became, the more I realized what a stupid move that had been. I put myself at risk and gained nothing worthwhile for it. Self loathing was a powerful emotion; it caused me to attack that thug, when the night before self preservation kept me from doing the same thing. It seemed to be an emotion strong enough to force one to do terribly stupid things.
The shower and the day old coffee helped me with my self esteem issue even more. I still felt worthless, but not quite as suicidal. I knew from experience that by nightfall, I would have justified everything to myself. After that I could start my psychic healings.
I wasn't about to dress for a storefront church, but I did put on my best jeans. I drove the minivan to the address clipped to my sun visor. The building was part of three attached buildings each sharing common interior walls. It was typical of the 1920s version of today's strip mall.
The church was just as worn out as all the other holdover building from that era. The owner had long since given up trying to hold back the decay caused by the passage of time. The Mission was different only in that the windows had been washed, and the trim looked a little less grimy than the other two buildings.
I was impressed that the Reverend actually had a mission, just as he had said. I still didn't believe a man, who had the balls to disarm two men, over the contents of his wallet, was a simple preacher.
I opened my purse, for the first time since the day before, to check for cash. I was sure they would be taking an offering. I figured that I was good for at least ten bucks. What I found in my wallet was a thick brown envelope, which had not been there Saturday afternoon. I opened it of course and found a plain brown envelope inside. Inside the paper container were ten $100 bills, and a note.
I'll be in touch, Marge.
It took me half a second to decide that I would never keep that shit. I planned to take it back and shove it up her ass, just as soon as I was sure the commies were gone.
I was still half hour early for the service, but I wasn't the only one. I was surprised to find that almost every one of others had gray hair. The average age had to be well over sixty. There were a few who looked as though they might be just a few years older than my 42years, but it was damn few. It seemed a little odd, since the Reverend could easily have been five to ten years younger than me.
I noticed a Sandwich board type sign by the door. 'Today's menu' was lettered across the top in permanent stick on letters. Under it was written in grease pencil. 'Fried Chicken with green beans and corn.' The menu seemed a little sparse.
"Hey," I said to one of the woman standing just inside the door. "Is there a meal after the service?"
"Yes there is always a meal after the service on Sunday. It's kind of a social gathering for us old folks. Most of us stay pretty much cooped up during the week. Many of us have meals on wheels, so this is a real treat."
"I bet it is." I should have went right outside to make my call but instead I asked, "How is the preacher here?"
"The Lord did a good thing, when he sent Reverend Archer to us. He is so caring and helpful."
"That's very nice. Excuse me please; I need to make a call."
"Helen, what are you doing right this minute?" I said into my cell phone.
"I'm trying to stop grinning," she said.
"Oh is Jack still there?" When I thought of Jack, I thought of Julie and my stomach turned.
"Actually he is."
"Then help him load your van with anything you have that could be good for a Sunday dinner. We are going to do another good thing. This time it is a good thing for real people."
"You know that I take my leftovers to the shelter, but I have some cupcakes left from a wedding I did yesterday afternoon. It's all I have left Maxine."
"Why hell girl that's perfect. I'm at some long named store front church and mission down on English Trail. Get your cup cakes here by noon."
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