The Scarlet Letter Society. Mary T. McCarthy

30 Minutes” sign on the door.

      She took off her red vintage 1980s Snoopy half-apron as she walked toward the back narrow staircase to the upstairs apartment. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at his fake running motion and wide eyes.

      She stopped on the fifth step up.

      “I don’t think I can make it all the way up to my apartment,” she smiled sheepishly.

      “No need,” said Ted.

      He stopped on the third step and grabbed her around her waist. He lifted the vintage Sesame Street t-shirt and kissed her belly. She raked her hands through his curly mop of dark hair and kissed him with all the desire she’d felt from the moment he’d entered the shop. They never seemed to be able to get enough of each other.

      She eagerly dashed her tongue into his mouth, moaning when he returned the kiss with equal excitement. She leaned back on the wooden step and lifted her hips to feel the full effect of his complete hardness.

      Grinding her jeans against his, they both sighed in anticipation of their typically amazing lovemaking.

      Ted lifted her t-shirt over her head, her Boston Red Sox baseball cap falling onto the step as her moppy curls spilled out. She tugged at the button fly of his jeans as he removed her bra in a matter of seconds. Then his mouth was on her nipples, and once again she rested back on the step. His tongue, his teeth, the pressure—everything was perfect and she found herself grinding on his hard-on until her body exploded. She shook as he started to undo her jeans.

      He smiled down at her as he gently twisted her nipples with his expert thumbs and forefingers. She managed to gather herself, her shirt, her bra, her hat, and turn to go up the stairs.

      “We would probably be more comfortable upstairs,” said Maggie, clearing her throat and still shaky from the intense orgasm. Dry humping! At my age! She smiled at Ted.

      “I kinda like these steps,” he said, following her and grabbing her hips. Still both in jeans, he pressed his hardness against the crease between her back pockets. She lowered her jeans over her hips so she could feel every bit of that stiffness, automatically leaning into a sort of modified downward-facing dog yoga pose. She wore no panties under her jeans. Happy for the access, he reached around to her front and slipped two fingers into her, sliding them effortlessly in and out as he circled his hips around her ass.

      Maggie enjoyed this amazing sensation for a few moments, and then couldn’t take it anymore—it was time for his jeans to go.

      She reached behind her and lowered his already-unbuttoned jeans. She felt him step out of them and his boxers and now, finally, she could feel him against her. She reached back to stroke him and he moaned softly in appreciation. She flipped back over, sitting on her jeans to cushion her from the hardwood floor steps.

      She felt him move down two steps, scoop his arms under her waist to raise her toward his mouth, and he used his tongue to arouse her even more, if that was possible. She rested her head on her arm and let herself get close to another orgasm, but this time, she wanted him inside her. She reached down, grabbing his toned waist, and lifted him up toward her, gently stroking him for a few moments before bringing him closer to her. She teased him there for a moment until he couldn’t take it anymore and entered her with every inch of himself.

      They both made the same sound-- a release of tension, sexual energy, passion, complete bliss. He began to move inside her and she arched her back to meet his thrusts. They expertly worked against each other, pleasure cascading into simultaneous orgasms.

      They sighed, then laughed. He followed her up to the apartment so they could grab a quick shower before moving on with their days.

      Maggie chatted with Ted in the shop for a few minutes before he had to get back to work.

      “I had an interesting experience last week,” she said, wondering if this was really a good time to be talking about it.

      “Oh yeah, what’s that?” Ted smiled.

      “I met someone new. A professor at the college.”

      “Don’t tell me you’re cheating on both your estranged soon-to-be-ex-husband and me with some hot chemistry professor hunk,” he said, teasingly.

      “Actually, no, it’s not a chemistry professor,” said Maggie, feeling slightly awkward about how this conversation was going to go. “It’s a literature professor, a customer here at the shop.”

      Ted looked quizzically at her.

      “So what, he’s a new boy toy, someone you want to have a threesome with that includes me, or what?”

      Maggie looked at Ted. They had an open, honest relationship and she knew that the news would not be something he would be completely shocked by. He was pretty sexually liberal. Divorced, he had dated a number of women, encountering during his work as a musician some non-vanilla stuff, including a few threesomes she was aware of.

      “Just a hook-up, I guess,” she said, although she looked uncertain about it.

      Ted laughed. A deep, hearty laugh from all the way down in his stomach. She glanced admiringly at the wrinkles the smile created on his face. The gray hairs sprinkled in with the dark brown were so sexy, she thought as he ran his fingers through it.

      “Maggie, you sex queen, you!”

      “I’m certainly not a sex queen,” Maggie responded. “This must just be some kind of fluke thing. I mean, I was attracted to the professor, and we sort of hooked up, and I don’t know what it means or what is happening.”

      Ted walked over, pushing the freshly re-fitted baseball cap aside again, and kissed her passionately. But as he pulled away he had a huge grin as he asked, “Is this the part where we start using the term ‘mid-life crisis?’ Are the professor and I here because you need us to make you feel young again?”

      Maggie smiled at Ted and straightened her baseball cap.

      “I don’t know what to call it,” said Maggie.

      The shop entry bell jingled again.

      “Hey Lisa!” said Maggie as her friend walked in. Ted beamed from ear to ear watching Maggie blush. He knew her glance at the clock meant she was thankful Lisa hadn’t arrived ten minutes earlier.

      “Hi Ted,” said Lisa. “Good morning, Maggie. I have an, um, a sudden lunch meeting and I came downtown today in these ratty clothes. I was wondering if you could help me find something to wear.”

      “Of course, dear,” she responded, and Lisa loved the way it sounded: de-ah.

      Ted hugged Maggie goodbye, and she thanked him again for the flowers.

      Maggie looked at Lisa. “We’re going to want to find an outfit that says, I’m just the local baker, but please fuck me under the covered bridge again, then?”

      

      “I know where you goin’ to, I knew when you came home last night

      ‘Cause your eyes had a mist from the smoke of a distant fire.”

      —“Smoke From a Distant Fire,” Sanford Townsend Band

      Monthly meeting of the Scarlet Letter Society.

      Zoomdweebies Café

      Friday, June 1, 2012

      5:30 a.m.

      “Welcome to Z’s, ladies,” said Zarina, opening the shop to the beautiful June morning and its fresh sunrise.

      “Hey there, Zarina,” said Eva. “You look awfully bright and chipper this early morning.”

      She smiled.

      “This must have something to do with that slightly brooding but completely adorable young hipster gentleman we often