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NOTE: There is very little actual sex in this story. It was written for a competition on another site where the story had to involve a holiday, have a happy ending, and be 1,000 words or fewer. If you’re looking for a stroke story, this isn’t it.
Maggie’s ’95 Corolla rumbled to a stop in the underground parking garage of the downtown office building. The only available spot amid the rows of SUVs and luxury sedans. On the third try of lifting and slamming the car door finally latched. As she walked toward the elevator bank, she pointed her key at the hubcap-less vehicle which held all her earthly belongings, and made a beeping noise, pretending to click a nonexistent fob.
She checked herself out in the mirror while she waited for the elevator. Ripped jeans, yellow halter, and dirty crocks, she felt as out of place as her car. She double-checked the suite number on the business card and punched 36, thankful that no one else was on the elevator.
Maggie sat on the leather couch in the small office and filled out the paperwork while the man photocopied her license. She thought long and hard before coming here, but she still was a little nervous.
“To be honest,” the man said as he returned her license, “when you reluctantly took my card at the club, I never thought you’d call.”
“I had no intention of calling,” Maggie replied while tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, “but with the holidays coming up, I really Ankara escort could use the extra money.”
“Well, with your petite frame, and small chest, you’re perfect for a particular audience.” The man clicked a button on the video camera and said, “Demo tape for…” He paused to check the intake form, “…Madge Willow…is there a significance to your stage name?”
Maggie giggled, “Madge was what I called my vagina as a kid, and Willow is the street I grew up on.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m 22 years old.”
“And why are you here?”
“To audition for a porn film.”
“Remember to look into the camera honey, not at me,” the man reminded her as he stood in front of her. “Shall we get started then?”
Maggie opened his pants and fished out his semi-hard cock. Holy fuck, she thought to herself, as she felt it grow in her hand. She had only seen one other this big, back when she was turning tricks to get high and was thankful she hadn’t checked the anal sex box on the intake form.
When the audition was over, her face and chest were covered in her saliva and a huge load of his cum. “Excellent,” he said, as he wiped off his cock with some tissues. “You can clean up in the bathroom and I’ll have your check ready when you come out.”
*****
Maggie nervously rubbed the coin in her pocket as she stood in front of the double-wide trailer on Willow Lane. She popped up the collar of her jean jacket and pulled it tighter Ankara escort bayan around herself to brace against the cold night air. Just as she worked up the courage to knock, the door opened.
“I’m not giving you any money for drugs,” said the slightly overweight woman in the muumuu.
“That’s not why I’m here, mom,” Maggie replied, “not this time.” She fished the coin out of her pocket and showed it to her mother. “One year sober, and taking it one day at a time.”
“Well that’s great for you,” her mother responded curtly. “I’m her legal guardian now and I’m not going to have you wake her at this time of the night.”
“I understand,” Maggie said as she shivered against the cold. “I’ve been such a disappointment to you, and her, and I really appreciate you keeping her out of foster care. I just came by to drop off a few gifts.”
“Uh-huh,” her mother uttered skeptically.
In the six years of the little girl’s life, the few times there were gifts from her mother on Christmas, it was usually something bought from a convenience store with panhandled change. When Maggie stepped out from the open trunk with an armload of brightly wrapped boxes, her mother shook her head.
“Did you knock over the convenience store this year,” her mother snarked, as she held open the trailer door.
“Very funny you old bitch,” Maggie snarked back. “I earned the money for these presents, and I want to try to earn my way back into her Escort Ankara life.”
“Set them over here,” her mother said while moving the bottle of Seagrams and the half-full juice glass from the kitchen table. “Would you like something to drink?”
Maggie eyed the bottle of rye and rubbed the coin in her pocket for strength. “I’ll have a cup of tea.”
She sat at the table and shivered, this time not from the cold, but from the memories of the 15 years she spent there before she ran away. She took the tea from her mother and let it warm her from the inside.
“Most of them are for Kayla, but this one’s for you,” she said, as she handed her the small box from the top of the stack.
“Thanks,” her mother responded reflexively. “I don’t have anything for you, of course.”
“You took in your granddaughter when they were going to take her away from me, so there’s no bigger gift you can give me.” Maggie sipped her tea then said, “Go ahead, open it.”
The older woman carefully un-taped the seams and folded the wrapping paper neatly before lifting the cover from the box.
“What the hell is this?” she said, as she lifted the familiar blue garment from the box. She held it up and noticed the plastic name tag which read MAGGIE.
“Look in the vest pocket,” prompted Maggie.
Her mother pulled out a Walmart gift card and burst into tears.
Maggie hugged the large woman tightly. They cried on each other’s shoulders, the tears seemingly washing away the pain and disappointment of the past several years.
“I’m sorry, mom,” Maggie whispered sincerely in her mother’s ear. Then added, “But I’m going to need that back, I start tomorrow morning.”
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