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Home for Thanksgiving |
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By Margo Perry
Sassy preferred an aisle seat because she had long legs, claustrophobia, and a penchant for privacy. But, she was out of luck today. She sat mid-cabin, sandwiched between an exhausted, apologetic Madonna with an obviously teething, fretful child and an elderly, squeaky-voiced Wicked Witch who’d been complaining ever since they’d reached cruising altitude.
“I can’t stand all this crying,” Witchy whined, leaning into Sassy, her breath stale, her bony frame insinuating itself against Sassy’s massive bosom. “People with young babies shouldn’t be allowed to fly!”
Her tiny flaring nostrils and tight, lipless mouth reminded Sassy of a rodent’s, but Sassy was adamantly old school and would never allow herself to be rude to an ancient.
Reach out and touch.
“Have you ever been to Pageant before?” Sassy asked, effusing the charm she usually saved for producers and directors.
“Every year,” the woman beamed, “but I usually fly first class, you know, to avoid this kind of thing.” She leaned forward, nodding her head emphatically in the direction of the Madonna who had moved into the aisle to sway, bounce and cajole her trembling and inconsolable child. “If we don’t lodge a complaint, we’re crazy. We paid for a pleasant flight. This is torture!”
Shut up, you old biddy!
Sassy’s face was heating up and her tongue seemed to be swelling in her mouth, as if she were actually allergic to the conversation. The seats were getting smaller and oxygen felt less available.
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
Performing her deep breathing techniques reminded Sassy of just how exhausted she was. She’d just completed a nine month theatre run during which she hadn’t missed one single performance and they were already talking about making a film. What she needed from this flight was time out, without responsibility, to just be.
She turned to Madonna who was struggling back into her seat and held out her arms. “Let me take her for a while.”
Madonna’s deep blue eyes were rheumy with fatigue and emotional stress, but her china-doll beauty still shone from under a helmet of soft blond curls, cupid lips and a pretty open smile.
“That’s very kind of you,” she said, gently laying her infant in Sassy’s arms.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Sassy said. “A mother’s job seems never done. How old is she?”
Magically, the baby had stopped whimpering and was snuggling against Sassy’s breasts, breasts that were bigger than she was.
“Six months,” Madonna said. “By the way, my name’s Gloria and that’s our Tess. My hubby warned me that the flight might be a nightmare, but both of us needed to see Tim, didn’t we, Tess?” Gloria’s face radiated suppressed lust and a raging excitement. “He’s been in Pageant for two months and I can’t wait to see him.”
“I can see that,” Sassy laughed.
Tess was now giggling, dribbling and squirming against the soft grey cotton of Sassy’s turtle neck. She accepted a baby towel from Gloria and Tess finally settled herself along the crevice of Sassy’s cleavage that was longer than the baby’s own body length. Sassy looked into that baby’s face and drowned in her beauty and innocence. Despite all the successes of her thirty-six years, she was missing something, something she hadn’t felt since childhood and first love, and she wanted it back: The unconditional love of and for a man and, more importantly, a passion for every waking hour of every day. She felt such tenderness and passion that her nipples stood erect, as if ready for suckling and her pussy wept with oozing, warm need.
“He’ll be very happy to see both of you,” Sassy said. “You’re both very beautiful.”
“So are you,” Gloria blurted, her face aglow with self consciousness. “I recognize you,” she whispered. “Tim and I have seen both of your movies and my best EEE-chested girlfriend does your workout every day. She also swears by your bras. She says that the straps don’t dig into her shoulders and her clothes fit better than with other bras. I can’t wait to tell her that I met you and that you’re even more gorgeous in person. I love your hair.”
“Or lack of it,” Sassy said, laughing.
When the stylists and make-up people were working on a look for Sassy, Female Detective, they tried all kinds of wigs, but nothing seemed to please them. Sassy suspected that they were dreaming about Foxy and assured them that there was only one Pam Grier and that she was incapable of channelling her. The hair stylist then had the bright idea to go ‘close to bald’, as he called it. Elaborate earrings would be her calling card. And that was that. Sassy was suddenly all cheekbones, doe eyes, and pouty lips and she loved it. After all the years of fighting her long thick mane, she took to the wash and wear coif like a criminal to parole.
“I read that you were doing your first musical. Did you learn to dance and sing on the job like Dancing with The Stars?” Gloria asked.
Sassy laughed. “No, I’ve been dancing and singing all my life, but I hadn’t performed on stage since high school. It’s different from film and a lot of work, but fun. The show closed two nights ago.”
“Are you filming in Pageant?”
“No, my parents live there. I’m visiting for Thanksgiving.”
Sassy had managed to mute her anxiety, but it all flooded back at the mention of her parents. Her mother’s note - you couldn’t call it a letter - had been so terse that it left Sassy with more questions than answers: Your father isn’t playing much anymore. He’s given up the choir and teaching.
She’d received the letter three days ago and hadn’t been able to put it out of her mind. Her father played music like most people breathed and she couldn’t imagine what state he’d have to be in to give up any part of it up. She’d tried to reassure herself that, if anything was seriously wrong, her mother would have told her. But, she couldn’t convince herself and as soon as the last curtain came down - fortunately on a matinee - Sassy rushed to the airport and here she was.
Flight #403 to Pageant was about to begin its descent when Tess began to mewl again and Sassy realized that she had to pee.
“Let me take her,” Gloria said, reaching for her baby.
“Thanks,” Sassy said, relinquishing the baby and scrambling to her feet. “Excuse me.”
She hated being a nuisance, but she had no choice. She waited while Gloria hoisted her huge diaper bag onto Sassy’s seat and drew her child close. Sassy inched her way toward the aisle. Her huge and unwieldy breasts protruded obscenely over the seat in front of her and she had to use both her hands to avoid slapping the head of the man sitting in it.
“Please, excuse me,” she repeated, as the man twisted back and grinned up at her.
“No problem. Take your time,” the man said, “and it’s great to see you, Sassy.”
The man stared at her with adoring eyes. Sassy had fans, fans who considered her the sexiest thing walking, but she didn’t understand it. She never had. Men had been gawking at her since she was a child, making her uncomfortable, confusing her. And her mother’s immovable stance against sex before marriage had rendered Sassy impotent. She’d lost her first and only love, Thom, after four years of dating, because she couldn’t express herself sexually and, although she was no longer a virgin, she might as well have been. She had yet to enjoy any semblance of a full sexual experience and she sometimes wondered if she’d live her life pretending to enjoy what she didn’t really feel.
“Could I bother you for an autograph?” The gentleman had left his seat to meet her in the aisle and was holding out a pen and pad, grinning from ear to ear. My name’s Wally.”
“No problem, Wally,” she said, scribbling: Great flying with you, Wally. Take care, Sassy.
“Thank you. Thank you,” Wally said, pocketing the precious paper.
Sassy would never get used to the attention, but she’d learned to smile, sign the autograph and move on.
In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes.
As much fun as she was having, Warhol had warned the world and Sassy was determined never to take her ‘success’ seriously. How could she when an agent had spotted her in a movie line-up, the Lana Turner legend revisited, and subsequently hauled her off to a screen test? The director had been interested as soon as he saw her humongous breasts and the fact that she’d been studying theatre for years sealed the deal. So, here she was five years, two Sassy Detective films, several exercise DVD’s for especially endowed women, and a bra line later, about to visit her hometown for the first time since she was sixteen and she was terrified at how people were going to react. It wasn’t like she was doing porn, but her mother wouldn’t care. Nor did Sassy! Right now, all she needed was a bathroom. She hurried to join the line, relieved that there were only two men ahead of her.
“Why do you have to be so difficult? You were doing well in all your courses. Why did you drop out of medical school?”
“I didn’t just drop out of med school, Mother. I transferred to Law School. I’m doing fine! Why can’t you ever be happy for me?”
The two women in line were bickering bitterly and it was all too painful, too familiar. To date, Sassy had never managed to please her own mother, no matter what she did, and it still hurt. She’d made it through high school with mostly A’s, but when Sassy decided that she wanted to go to Theatre School, her mother had looked down from her solid six foot frame and thundered, “What’s the sense in being head of your class if all you’re going to do is dance and sing your way through life!”
Sassy was now first in line and the gruesome twosome were still at it.
“It doesn’t matter to me, but you’ll be disappointing your father no end!”
“Why do you always have to bring Dad into it. All he wants is for me to be happy.”
“That’s what he tells you, but I know better.”
Sassy escaped into a vacated bathroom, dreading the conflicts she’d have to face at home. Her father had always told her that she was beautiful; her mother described her looks as obvious, her huge breasts as vulgar. Her father was proud and happy when she’d called to tell her parents that she’d gotten her first film. Her mother insisted that they’d given her the part because of her large breasts and that she had nothing to be proud of. She hadn’t called to tell them about the second film, not even when it was nominated for an Emmy. She hadn’t won and found that she was relieved. She was up against some heavy hitters who she felt deserved it more than she did. But she was proud that she was becoming a better actress every day, with every class, and her mother couldn’t take that away.
“You’re just a spoiled brat and I blame your father for it!”
Sassy opened the bathroom door and the daughter rushed inside, slamming the door against her mother’s vitriol. Sassy returned to her seat, terrified at just having been reminded of how cruel a mother could be.
You Can’t Go Home Again.
Wolfe’s words haunted Sassy as she returned to her seat and belted up. She wished she were in the window seat, but the old lady was napping, and Sassy could still follow the swoop of the flight’s course across Pageant’s forty mile mainland and around the several outer islands that together circumscribed an almost perfect circle. The Atlantic sparkled on a sunny day that looked more May than November and brilliant white water-purifying limestone roofs leant a sparkling crown to a rainbow of coloured houses. Pressure began to build in her ears and Sassy, closed her eyes, swallowed, and breathed deeply. Ten minutes out of the airport, she’d be in her parents’ home, in her own bedroom where love letters from Thom, her first love were still stashed, waiting to be re-read. She’d lie on her bed and listen to the sea, remember life as it used to be. She was excited, but anxious. She had left twenty years earlier, an angry and disappointed sixteen year old, forced into university when all she wanted to do was learn the performing arts. Her father had supported her dream, but her mother had had the last word.
“Every girl wants be a movie star and most of them end up serving drinks in some bar or restaurant. Not my daughter,” she’d said. “Not on my watch. Now, go get an education!”
Sassy had been left with the choice of where she’d spend the next four years, not how.
“Wait till I tell Tim that I met you, that you helped me. He’ll die,” Gloria said, bringing Sassy back to the present. “It’s a lot to ask, but would you sign an autograph for Tim?”
Sassy fished under her seat for her shoulder bag and a pad and paper. She scrawled: You have a beautiful wife and child, Tim. It was lovely meeting them and I wish you all a happy life.
“You’re a star. We’ll never forget, will we, Tess?”
Sassy tucked the paper in the outer pocket of Gloria’s purse.
The plane landed smoothly and soon, a perfectly coiffed and made-up stewardess took to the airwaves, lighting up the cabin with her smile. She spoke with a lilting New Zealand accent:
Please be sure to take all of your belongings. If you’re determined to leave something, make sure it’s something we’ll enjoy having.
A chuckle rippled through the cabin that now hummed with controlled activity.
“Have a wonderful vacation,” Sassy said, to the old lady.
“You, too,” the lady said, “but, who are. You must be famous, but I don’t recognize you.”
Sassy couldn’t imagine why she would. “I’m really nobody,” she said, before slipping into the aisle after Gloria who was managing her baby and several bags with incredible efficiency.
Sassy took a few steps and then stopped to create a bit of space between herself, the mother and child, and the short parade of businessmen and honeymooners standing between herself and the opening door. She couldn’t wait to deplane. She was beginning to feel hemmed in. The aisles were narrow, the flight filled almost to capacity and the atmosphere was charged with impatience. Tess seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
They had almost reached the exit. The honeymooners had stopped locking lips just long enough to thank the stewardess for a perfect flight, when Honey Morgan exploded from behind the first class curtain to crash into the line just in front of them. Her eyes bulged when she recognized Sassy.
Oh no!
“Sassy Rose?”
People off the island didn’t even know that Rose was her title. Like Oprah or Cher, her agent had sold her as Sassy and that was all her associates and fans knew. “I’ve kept up with your every move,” Honey gushed, “and I’ve seen every one of your movies. Let’s get together. Hang out.”
Every one of her movies was two, and Sassy had no interest in spending time with Honey Morgan. When Sassy’s AA tits had exploded into DD’s during her first year of high school, Honey Morgan had campaigned to have her ostracized. Sassy considered the growth spurt a misfortune and watched in misery as the boys became enamoured and Honey turned every other girl against her. She’d punished her by flirting with her boyfriend until he’d lost all interest in Honey, but that didn’t make up for the loneliness that would only be soothed by girl power. By the end of her second year, she’d starred in two of their high school musicals and was welcome everywhere. But she’d never trust Honey Morgan or want to be her friend. However, seeing her again reminded Sassy of how small the island was and what she was about to face in Pageant, a place she’d left twenty years ago, never to return … until now.
Sassy suddenly felt lonely. She needed to feel her parents’ arms around her. She wanted to lie in her old bed, look out of her window at the moon, hear the rush of the ocean and dream again. She felt a need to audit her life, find the source of an increasing and debilitating restlessness. What she wasn’t looking forward to was her mother’s endless criticisms. She’d hate her closely shaven head, reject her ‘so-called acting career’ and last, but not least, disapprove of any attention Sassy got.
You Can’t Go Home Again.
Wolfe’s words haunted her again as she prepared to do just that.
“I’ll call you,” she lied, waving Honey away before turning back to Gloria. She fished Tim’s autograph out from Gloria’s bag and added her cell number. “I’ll be here for ten days. Give me a call next week. I’ll buy you and your husband a drink.”
“No way,” Gloria whispered. “Look what you did.”
Tess was asleep and snoring.
Sassy followed Gloria out of the cabin, marvelling at the care and grace she exhibited as she picked her way down the airstairs, baby and bags in tow. She was so young to have so much responsibility and Sassy was determined to show Gloria and her Tim the Pageant she knew. It would be fun!
“I’ll call you,” Gloria promised, as she raced toward the terminal, frantic to be in the arms of the man she loved.
Sassy noticed a lanky tanned figure screaming for Gloria, waving her on madly from the airport’s observation balcony. Sassy grinned. Love in bloom, she thought.
She couldn’t believe she was home and the smell of salt, jasmine and honeysuckle invaded her nostrils, awakening too many memories to sort through. She couldn’t wait for her father to wrap his arms around her, show her that he was just fine.
The airport had been completely rebuilt and was now a glassed in, plant filled cathedral that boasted a panoramic view of the island’s foliage, ocean front and well kept roadways. All of a sudden, a familiar sound stopped her dead in her tracks.
“Sassy Rose?”
Thom Sweets’ resonant bass echoed across the terminal and all eyes were on them as he hurtled his six foot four frame toward her, his blonde shoulder-length hair trailing behind him.
“Let me get that.”
One huge soft paw closed over her hand relieving her of her luggage. His sparkling blue eyes swept over her, head to high-heeled toe, before he kissed her gently on her cheek. His massive size and gentle self touched her deeply. She could smell him again, that sweet musky male scent that had filled her nostrils all through high school, staying long after they’d kissed goodnight. Her knees almost buckled, as she was reminded of first love and the part of it that stays forever. Thom let go of her baggage and held her at arm’s length, gazing brazenly at her massive breasts before easing her carry-on from her shoulder. “You look good enough to eat, woman!”
She struggled for words, couldn’t speak, and realized just how thrilled she was to see him. Her body radiated heat from her core, spreading upward from her pussy, coursing through her veins, carrying her back to the time when Thom was all she knew, all she thought about. And she hadn’t felt that way since. Twenty years disappeared in an instant and she was happy again, sixteen again, sitting on the hood of his forest green Morris Minor, her legs spread to welcome him. She could again feel his hard cock pressed against her soaking panties, feel their tongues doing their warm, wet tango beneath that ancient cedar tree. They were never able to part until they heard the impatient chords of one of her father’s favourite sonatas. Then, they’d force themselves apart, knowing that by the opus’ end, her daddy’s head would stick itself out of the bedroom window, just above them, impatient for the sound of a motor starting.
“Cat got your tongue,” Thom teased. “That would be a first!”
“What are you doing here?” She had to say something.
“My mom,” Thom said. “I just put her on a flight to London, She’s off to visit her sister in Uxbridge and here you are, in need of a ride home.”
“That would be lovely,” Sassy said.
Thom began to dance around her.
I'll take you there He sang full throttle, four Staple singers in one, moving his hips to the beat and oblivious to passersby. And Sassy melted to goo.
“I’m surprising my parents. I haven’t spent a Thanksgiving in Pageant . . .”
“For twenty years,” Thom interrupted. “I’ve kept up with your news and I’m very proud of you missy, but I’ve been expecting you. I was devastated to hear about your father,” Thom said, slipping his arm around Sassy. “I know how much you love him. I was going to get in touch with you, if you didn’t show up soon.”
“Why? What do you mean?” she asked, stepping away from him. There was so much sadness in his tone, so much caring. Sassy couldn’t process what he was saying.
“Oh fuck,” Thom said, “you know he’s not well, right?”
“Not really,” Sassy said. “Mom told me that he’d stopped playing at the church and had given up teaching, but that’s all she told me. What are you trying to say?”
Thom picked up her bags again and headed for the parking lot exit. “I suppose I shouldn’t have said anything, but Sassy, he’s not at all well.”
In an instant, Sassy’s world changed. Something was wrong with her father.
“Don’t send me into this blind, Thom Sweet. Talk to me! Is Dr. George treating him?”
George Sweet, Thom’s father, had been Sassy’s family’s doctor for as long as she could remember.
Thom took her hand. His was warm and reassuring, hers as cold as ice.
“Let’s go,” Thom said, leading her out of the terminal.
As soon as Thom had Sassy’s baggage loaded, he held the front door open for her and pressed a card into her hand.
Thom Sweet, Architect & Builder, #2 Sugar Mill Road 555-400-2020
Beneath that he’d scrawled, in the handwriting that she loved: 555-400-1000.
“That’s my cell number,” he said. “That’ll find me day or night.”
“Thanks,” Sassy said, turning the card over and over in her hands.
“Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I’m sure you’ll be spending it with your family, but if you need me for any reason, anytime, give me a call and I’ll be all yours.”
“Thanks,” Sassy said.
As frightened as she was, she felt safer and more alive than she had in a long while. She was realizing that she’d missed feeling love, being open and vulnerable, and she didn’t want to lose the feeling, she didn’t want to leave Thom’s side.
“How’s the love life?” Thom asked, as he turned onto single lane highway.
“Non-existent,” Sassy said, “and yours?”
“Divorced four years ago and I’ve never stopped missing you. Seems to me we have unfinished business. We’ll have to talk … seriously.”
Sassy didn’t answer, but the idea of unfinished business with Thom sent erotic waves flooding through her body. His face had decorated the headboard of anyone she’d ever been intimate with and he’d filled her dreams more times than could ever be considered healthy. They’d been teenagers in love and poised on the brink of sexual fulfillment for years, but Sassy always drew away, trying to be the good girl her mother wanted her to be. Sex comes with marriage, she insisted. But when Thom did ask her to marry him, in her senior year, her mother insisted that they wait until after she graduated from college. Sassy was miserable, but couldn’t stand up to her mother and it wasn’t until Sassy discovered that Thom had given up and was being satisfied by a beautiful city girl did she pull away from him, broken-hearted.
What a waste!
She was home. As Thom drove up that familiar steep hill and parked under that old cedar tree, Sassy’s heart leapt with love and lust and memory. The tension between them was undeniable and electric.
“How long are you staying?” he asked.
“About ten days. I haven’t accepted any bookings for November or December, so I’m flexible. I wanted to see how my dad was before I decided anything.”
“Then we have time.”
Sassy felt like time had turned in on itself and she loved Thom with the certainty of a fourteen year old. She wanted to pull him inside her and make her feel. She wanted to see his eyes glaze over, when she pulled his head into her breasts. She wanted him to suck them like he used to, only harder, and this time, until she came.
“You have my number,” he said softly, twisting to open his door.
“What’s wrong with my dad, Thom? Is it serious?”
Thom turned back. “Yes.” “Is it cancer?”
“Yes.”
“Is it serious?”
“Yes.”
Thom’s eyes were brimming with tears, but that’s not what Sassy wanted. Her daddy was dying. She could read it in Thom’s eyes. She needed much more than Thom’s fucking sympathy. She grabbed the ends of her scarf, uncoiled it from around her neck and tossed it over Thom’s, trapping him. She pulled him into her and began kissing him. His mouth still tasted of something vanilla and his tongue was still thick and strong. She was like an animal, pinching his nipple through his shirt and sweater, so hard that he whimpered, an overly aroused animal, needing to mate. She traced his cock with her fingernails. She teased it, bending over to blow hot breaths, massaging his sweet spot until she drew pre-cum and laughed at the wet spot that spread over his dark slacks.
“Are you sure?” Thom asked, as she slowly unzipped his slacks.
“Take it out and feed me,” she growled.
Thom lifted himself off the seat and eased his pants down over his well-formed ass. His cock stood at perfect attention.
“Ooh,” he groaned, as Sassy took his cock in her hand and begun to attend to it with long, slow ice cream cone licks. She used her hand to stroke, drawing his foreskin over the head and back, feeding it into her dripping, warm, wet mouth every time. She used both her finger and tongue to circle his sensitive sweet spot, while she tickled his balls and teased his ass. And then she fucked his cock with her mouth, fucked it soft, fucked it hard.
“I can’t take much more,” Thom said. “I’ve missed these!” He squeezed and massaged her giant orbs, pulled at her nipples, until she groaned with pleasure.
“Baby want my titties?” Sassy cooed, sitting and slowly raising her turtleneck up and over her head.
Thom leaned into her and kissed her ear, his tongue quickly tracing her lobe. Sassy could smell his aftershave and the moist heat of his breath travelled from her ear, down to her chest, heating her skin and stiffening her nipples. Blood rushed through her body and into her pussy, soaking her pants with her horniness.
She threw her sweater into the back seat and twisted into Thom. Her custom-made grey lace bra maintained the line of her cleavage, while exposing an endless landscape of breast flesh that flowed onto her lap. Sassy knew that Thom wouldn’t be able to resist her nipples and she settled back, her pussy throbbing close to orgasm, as she awaited the pleasure.
Thom used his large hands and builder’s strength to lift both breasts to his face and began to pleasure one nipple and then the other and then both. Sassy had wiggled out of her slacks, spread her legs and was rubbing and teasing her clit with her own hot juices. The feel of Thom’s teeth, nibbling, sucking, his fingers twisting and pulling, was driving Sassy to an edge, and soon there was no return. She arched her back, clenching her legs together, as she screamed a silent scream and came for the first time in her life. She wanted more.
“Come,” she said, quietly opening her door, stepping out of her pants and the car and moving to the front of Thom’s hood. How many times had she been in this very spot, wanting him desperately, refusing him? It was dusk and his blond hair shone in the waning light. “Fuck me, Thom.”
“I might be paranoid, but I think I saw your dad pass by the window.”
“Fuck me, Thom,” Sassy said, manipulating her nipple. “I’m hot, Thom. Make me feel good.”
Thom rested his cock against her clit and spanked it gently. Sassy was soon squirming, lifting her hips to meet him. He entered her slowly, reverently. She welcomed him with strong muscles that massaged him, stroked him, driving him toward the finish line. And he responded. He fucked her with all the love he’d ever felt for her. He drove into her hard, destroying all the resistance of their youth. He panted over her, slowing himself down, denying her almost. Denying her completely.
“I need to come. Put it in. Fuck me, please.”
Thom was ready for her plea and plunged. They bucked and reared like two healthy horses until they broke through the rails and ran and ran free.
“I’m coming, Thom,” Sassy wept. “I’m coming.”
They dressed quietly, as though they were in church. There was so much love, so much grief and worry between them that they clung to each other like two frightened kids. When they heard one of her dad’s sonatas, such sweet piano warming the evening’s damp, it seemed like a blessing and they cried and cried and cried.
Her dad was till playing when Thom walked her to the door and carried her bags up the kitchen steps.
“Do you want me to come in?” Thom asked.
“Later,” she said, “maybe tomorrow.”
“That’s if your mother will have me.”
“Oh she’ll have you. It’s been a long road, but she’ll have you.”
Sassy watched Thom walk down the steps, across the yard, and disappear. Her heart was pounding ferociously, her palms were damp and cold, but her heart was restored. She was finally home for Thanksgiving. |