Petey and Dene on the Town

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Forward: This story takes a 35-year leap forward from the 9-part “BeeBe and Petey” series. [ ] That series covered the years 1971-80. Although Chad (BeeBe) died early last year Kathy continued to be close to his sister, Dene. Here’s an account of the reunion Dene and Kathy celebrated last summer in Tennessee. -Valendon


July 2015

Finally! It had been a long flight! But now I was off the plane at McGhee-Tyson airport in Knoxville and walking into the arrivals area. I spotted Dene waving and hurried toward her. As I scurried, my mind flashed back to the first reunion we had in 1971. She surprised me at Thanksgiving that year with a trip back home to Corpus Christi during our freshman year of college. I’d been nude when she walked into the house through the garage door, fresh from playing with her brother Chad. I charged down the hall and leaped into her arms, wrapping my legs around her waist and arms around her neck like a monkey. That warm thought had me grinning from ear to ear as her hug and kiss greeted me. It was a circumspect peck on the cheek this time, so I assumed she had family close by. Knowing Dene, I’d been half-expecting some tongue!

I brought up that Thanksgiving ’71 visit.

“Damn!” she said, ” I was thinking the same thing! Great minds, you know!”

“I’ve got the same urge, but at 60, um, something, I don’t think I can jump quite as high!” I whispered, still in a fond embrace.

“Good thing-we’d both go straight to the floor now!” Dene whispered back. We were in pretty good shape for a couple of old broads-trim and toned-but decades are decades, after all, and we were getting a few sags and creaks.

Then turning, Dene motioned for her husband, Rex, and daughter, Nan. I knew Nan, of course, since I was also her Godmother and ersatz Aunt. Dene had married Rex about 5 years earlier, and although I’d seen Dene at least once a year in that span, I’d never met Rex-husband number 3. I judged him to be about our age. He was fit and had a nice smile. “Nice to finally meet you, Kathy,” he offered, “Denise has talked about you a lot.”

“Aunt Kath!” Nan gushed, “I’m SO glad you could come. Seems like forever since I’ve seen you. You look great!” she continued, giving me a long, tight hug and kissed me on both cheeks. I returned the hug and kisses, my eyes getting a little moist.

“Oh, Peanut, I’ve missed you SO much. Have you managed to get in trouble without me around to urge you on?” I joked. “Please tell me you have!”

“You just wouldn’t BELIEVE all the mischief I’ve gotten up to,” she teased back.

I knew better. Nan was Dene’s only child, and a straight arrow. She was a physicist with a PhD from Stanford. Nan and her husband both worked at Oak Ridge-home of the atomic bomb-east of Knoxville. She had been married to the same guy since she was 25, had two smart, pretty and very nice daughters and (as far as Dene and I knew) kept her sex life confined to her husband. She had definitely not modeled herself on her mother and me. I’m sure Nan had caught on by now that her Mom and I were lovers, but we never waved that in anyone’s face and she never brought it up. When Nan was a teenager, she and Dene had the usual mother-daughter conflicts. Nan called, wrote and visited me pretty often. She did the first two years of her undergrad at Eastern Illinois, close to my home, and usually stayed with me and my kids on weekends. She went to U of I to finish her BS and MS, and still got down to see us regularly. Much like my sister Jan had done for me, I gave her the straight scoop on sex (techniques included) bought her a vibrator for her 18th birthday and let her borrow my dog-eared manuscript of “Joyous Sex.” I held her when her heart was broken, celebrated good boyfriends and new loves, and soothed her guilt when she’d experimented with a girl. Her Dad abandoned them when Nan was about 12, and when she got married, it was Dene and me both who walked her down the aisle. I couldn’t have loved her more if she’d been my own but it had been about 5 years since I’d seen her.

Now her oldest daughter was getting married and I was there to celebrate with her and the rest of her family.

We piled in Rex’s car and drove back into Knoxville to the hotel where out of town guests were staying, compliments of the groom’s family, and where the rehearsal dinner was to be held.

“I’ll let you get settled in, Kath, then I’ll have about a half-hour to visit with you before Nan and I have to go over to the church. I’ll swing back by to pick you up about 6 to head down for the rehearsal dinner, OK?” Dene said as I stopped to check in.

“Give me time to grab a shower, OK? It’s been a very long day!” I waved as she, Rex and Nan headed for the elevator. I’d been in Seattle to work through a contract yesterday. I’d gotten to the airport at 4AM and had spent the day scrambling to recover from delayed and cancelled flights ever since.

I opened the door to Dene’s knock 20 minutes later dressed only in a robe. THEN I got some real eryaman genç escort bayanlar kisses! Dene was quickly inside the robe, hands on my ass, pulling me firmly into her. She broke the embrace with a sharp breath. She was dressed up, hair fixed, makeup in place. “I’ve got some wonderful adventures lined up for us tonight, lover, but if I don’t step back now, I’ll screw up the schedule for Nan this afternoon and I really don’t want to do that.”

“Dene, it’s OK. C’mon, let’s just sit and visit. Tell me about Rex-is he still being good to you? How’s he in the sack? He looks pretty hot!”

“He IS! He comes pretty close to eating me as good as you, and that’s really something! Waaaay better than Jack (husband 2) and if he takes his Viagra he can give me everything I need.”

“How’s your ass? Any welts or paddle-shaped marks?” I raised an eyebrow in a teasing glance.

“Well, that’s a different story. He’s coming around, but he doesn’t like hurting me and we don’t do that very often. Once, he got mad at me and gave it to me pretty good with his hand, but you know that’s not the scene I’m into. I want it to be fun for him, not an expression of anger. We didn’t do it again for a long time after that. Now we play that game you came up with-rolling dice or drawing cards to see how many swats and how hard. I have to bargain with him for that. For some reason, he thought I was turned off playing with his asshole and I never corrected him. He likes prostate massages, so that’s my bargainning tool-I ‘relent’ to running my fingers up his ass, and he rolls the dice to paddle me. It’s workable.”

“Careful-that’s how I started with The Prick and it turned him gay! Watch out if he starts asking you to peg him with a strap-on.” I was joking, but just barely. My 2nd husband, Dick the Prick, had left me for a gay guy. Dene stepped in as my attorney and took him to the cleaners. Actually, he didn’t put up much of a fight. I think he was feeling guilty and tried to buy his way clear.

“I don’t think that’s in the cards with Rex, and I don’t think you turned The Prick gay, I think he was already gay or at least bi when the two of you first hooked up.”

“Let’s not dwell on that,” I asked. “Did you bring ‘El Whacko’?”

El Whacko, or just “E.W.” was what we began calling the first paddle Dene ever bought. It sounds a little juvenile now, but his name was locked in ages ago and had an air of playfulness! He was a small, compact leather affair, about 9″ long total and 3″ wide with about 6″ of contact area and a thick, nicely shaped handle and a braided thong wrist strap. We called it a “one cheek wonder.” It had two pieces of leather stitched together on the business end. Dene had cared for it regularly with saddle soap and neat’s foot oil. When some of the stitching had begun to fray about 10 years ago, she took it to a shoe repair shop. The owner ended up doing a very nice repair in exchange for Dene taking five strokes on her ass as a ‘trial run’. Good for both of them! He began making custom straps, tawses and paddles that my sister Jan marketed for him, but I digress. Both of our asses were intimately acquainted with El Whacko. He was the first, and all the more special for it. I felt my pussy moisten from just saying his name.

“El Whacko is safely tucked in the liner of my suitcase, and he’s just itching to visit with you!” Dene replied.

“Does Rex get to use E.W.?” I asked.

“No, E.W. stays out of sight except for us-our special little 3-some.”

“Good-I guess I’m kind of possessive about El Whacko.” “Dene?”


“I’m getting wet. You got enough time to get me off and still fix your makeup?” She didn’t hesitate.

“Spread ’em, lover” Dene said and kneeled in front of me.

Damn-there’s just nothing to compare with Dene giving me head. She didn’t spend a lot of time warming me up-just licked up and down my slit for a couple of times, then ran two fingers up my pussy and began sucking on my clit in earnest. I was sooo ready for this! She got me off in a little under 3 minutes. With GREAT concentration, I managed not to clamp her head between my thighs this time. Dene always complained that my orgasms were going to decapitate her someday! She got up, picked a couple of my cunt hairs out of her teeth, fixed her makeup and was out the door blowing me a kiss as I sat spread-eagled and panting on the sofa. I took a nap, setting the alarm for 5:30 to get dressed for the rehearsal dinner.

The dinner itself was just very, very nice. Nan was glowing, her daughter and the groom were just as cute as could be and both families seemed to get along very well. The groom’s dad, though, enjoyed himself a little too much. He was way past loaded when it came time for the toast. In spite of the awkwardness everyone seemed to take it in stride. But then when we started lining up for the photographer I ended up next to him and he groped my ass! Not just a little pat, either. He was locked on and squeezing! I gave him the iciest stare I could muster and growled: “Really?” His wife caught on ankara escort bayan and pulled him closer to her. She caught my eye, shook her head slightly and mouthed: “Sorry.” I nodded slightly and gave her what I hoped came across as a sympathetic eye roll.

Dene and I headed back up to her room about 8:30. I figured we’d let her change and grab E.W., then head to my room, shower and hop in the sack. Nope! She did change-into a light, summery skirt, a silk sleeveless shell and coordinated jacket. Notice I didn’t mention bra and panties-none of that! I gave her a quizzical look. “Let’s take E.W. to your room for when we get back and get you changed.”



As she changed purses and dropped in E.W., I noticed her pistol was already there. Dene carried a compact Ruger .357 magnum revolver most places, so I wasn’t especially surprised to see it. It was a slender 5-shot powerhouse, and in Chicago, Dene felt a lot safer with it close at hand, firearm restrictions be damned. Still, I had a hunch we weren’t headed to the opera. I usually carry a Kimber Micro .380, but decided against fussing through flying with it. Rex and Dene had driven down, so airport security wasn’t a problem.

“You gonna clue me in?” I asked.

“In due time-won’t be long.”

I left in a straight aqua skirt and thin short-sleeved white blouse. I could feel the fabric of the skirt rubbing against my bush and the rayon blouse lightly stimulated my nipples. My nips have always been prominent-the size of pencil erasers-and when my areolas pucker up, they really poke out! In the mirror, I noticed that without a bra they were now erect and clearly outlined. I considered adding a jacket but decided: “Screw it.”

As we headed through the lobby, I noticed male eyes picking up my chest as my nipples bobbed and danced under the thin fabric. Dene’s jacket was evidently concealing her jiggle just enough that eyes found me first-I smiled inwardly and saluted Dene for making me ditch the underwear. This old broad’s still got it!

In her car, we turned west off the Interstate onto Kingston Pike. That rang up an old memory! “The Ballad of Thunder Road” had the moonshine runner going “out on Kingston Pike!” I hadn’t realized it was a real street! After a little bit of a drive, Dene turned left into a strip mall, and pulled up in front of an adult store!

“Hmm! This looks interesting!” I offered.

“First stop,” Dene replied. She got out of the car and shrugged off her jacket. “Let’s see if anyone notices us!” she said with a wink.

Things had changed a lot since Dene and I worked in Jan’s adult lingerie and “novelty” store in Corpus back in the early 70s. Back then, customers were nervous high school boys trying to look 18, horny service men with big grins, and overweight old guys that wouldn’t look anyone in the eye. In this store there were mostly couples and a wide span of age groups! The sales counter had a 40-something woman behind it, wearing a nametag (Janine.) Everything was brightly lit and nobody was looking at the floor. We got smiles and nods from a few, and an open-mouthed stare at our chests followed by a smile and a thumbs-up from a trim, gray-haired guy in a sport coat. Janine gave us a friendly greeting and offered to help us.

“We’re looking for some new toys,” Dene proclaimed, “and some advice on strip clubs if you can clue us in.”

“Sure thing, ladies. Are we looking more for insertables or vibes or some BDSM gear-maybe some e-stim?”

“Insertables, I’d say, Dene, wouldn’t you?”

“We’ve got some nice strap-ons,” our guide suggested, “or have you tried a Feel-doe?”

“Haven’t heard of Feel-does,” Dene said.

“Oooo-let’s go look at some!” she said, “They’re damn nice. Kind of a strapless strap-on. We have different sizes. Some of them will take a bullet vibe in the base.”

I could feel my nips tighten, and even without looking, I knew they were putting on a show.

“I think I’ve tweaked your interest!” Janine said, staring unabashedly at my tits.

“Lead on, Janine,” I replied, watching appreciatively as her tight ass walked through the aisles. Dene and I exchanged a glance and a nod, both approving of Janine.

The Feel-does did indeed look like fun! They had two protrusions-a traditionally shaped phallus, and a shorter, bulbous one arranged in a kind of wide “V” shape. The idea was for one of us to slip the bulbous end up our vag, turning us into chicks with dicks.

“Janine, does that really stay in a gal’s pussy without a strap?” I asked.

“Pretty much, yeah. You’d be surprised! But we sell these too, if you want a little back up,” she replied, showing us a package of lycra panties with a reinforced opening for the dick.

“You sound like you’ve got personal experience with these, Janine?” I asked.

“Well, we’re not supposed to personalize things, but yeah, I’ve got one and I love it! I usually use it without the panties.”

“Both gals must feel like they’re getting fucked, huh?” Dene asked.

“Yeah-it’s great! I etimesgut escort love not having to fool with a harness. But” (she leaned in and lowered her voice) “I use it on my guy! And it’s not the same feeling as when he’s fucking me, but it’s way better than the strap-ons and it’s not like I miss out on his dick later.”

“Cool, Janine, you’ve sold us!” Dene picked out two-one of each size, both with pockets for vibes in the base.

“If you use lube, make sure it’s water-based,” Janine added, “need any?”

“Sure,” I said, “get us a couple of bottles of your favorites.”

“So, Janine, you ever get to strip clubs?” Dene asked.

“Yeah, sure. I even danced in ’em for a while. Now Jimmy and me go just for fun. You’re pretty classy gals, you’re probably gonna want the Lamb’s Ear.”

“Well, run them all down for us, if you don’t mind.”

Janine told us all the clubs were full-nude, but dancers had to put their panties back on for lap dances. In the end, we headed farther west on Kingston Pike and after a few more turns ended up at “Take-a-Chance.” From the outside, it looked like we would be taking a chance to go in, and Dene’s hand rested in her purse as we walked toward the door. The security guy at the door waived cover charges for us! That was nice! Inside, the club was pretty basic with more of an industrial look than anything. There were a couple of stages with guys pulled up close and offering bills to get the dancers close. We chose a table next to the wall and settled in without creating much of a stir. We ordered coffee instead of booze-we rarely drink much when sex in on the horizon and never when we’re driving. We sure don’t need our inhibitions lowered, and this was a place where we wanted full alertness! As our vision got used to the dim lighting, we could see only two couples in the crowd, no single women and about 20 or so guys in groups of 2s and 3s. It was, as Janine had advised, a blue-collar place. We chose it, though, because Janine also told us the dancers were more inclined to allow touching than in the other clubs.

The girls on stage when we got there looked like they could have been in high school! When they finished a 2-song set, they’d put their bottoms back on and troll for tips, rubbing close to the guys and usually doing well. They ignored the 2 old broads against the wall. We sat through 3 sets of dancers and started to get a little bored before “Tina” came on stage. You could tell from the whistles and table-pounding Tina was a crowd favorite here. She looked to be in her mid-30s, but was WAY more active and erotic than the teenie boppers. Rather than stringing everyone along until the last half of the 2nd song before getting fully nude, Tina stripped quickly, without flourish, and then concentrated on humping the pole, sucking her own nipples, rubbing her tits on the guys around the stage, spreading her ass cheeks, rubbing her pussy and generally heating up the room. Dene pushed her way up to the stage and slipped her a $20! Tina sat on the edge of the stage, pulled Dene in close and kissed her repeatedly, to the delight of the guys close by! The guy seated closest reached up and cupped Dene’s right tit through her blouse as she was turning to leave. She gave him a warning glance and dug her thumbnail into his wrist as she moved his hand away. Tina cautioned him too, and he apologized.

After her set, Tina made a few brief calls on guys, collecting more gropes and cash as she made her way to our table. She hugged Dene and gave her another kiss to thank her for the tip, then asked if we wanted a “table dance.” Turned out that meant a brief lap dance for each of us. We both got “tittie smackers” (she caressed our faces with her tits) and pulled our skirts up enough that we could feel her mostly bare ass on our thighs. I instinctively reached to cup her tits when she backed onto my lap, but she gently grabbed my wrists and lowered them. “I’d love to have you feel me up, hon, but I’d get in trouble and you’d get kicked out.” We each tipped her another 20 and invited her to sit with us a while.

“Sorry for trying to cop a feel, Tina,” I apologized, “but Janine up at Erotic Super Store said touching was OK here.”

“Depends on who’s lookin’ hon. That table over there? Vice cops. They’re about due to leave, though. Listen, if you want to head back to the VIP room, there won’t any extra eyes. I gotta keep my g-string on except when I’m on stage, and I can’t ‘touch you sexually’ but we can get way more personal back there. Annie and Ginger are using it now with a bachelor party, but their time is about up.”

“You ‘spose there are any cocks out of their zippers back there, Tina?” Dene asked.

“Oh, I’d pretty much guarantee it!”

“Well, that sounds good to us, Tina. You want to sit with us till it opens up?”

She did. In her warm Tennessee accent (probably West Tennessee or Mississippi, to our Texas ears), Tina chatted freely and we were tickled to learn that while she was bi, she preferred women, was pissed that the club wouldn’t let her grow her bush out, agreed with Janine about Feel-does, danced between 5 and 10 sets a night depending on how many other girls showed up and routinely pulled in $500 a night in tips. She was very choosy about who she took to the VIP, and made it no secret that she was really going to enjoy her time with us.

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