Mona Lisa Life 2003 Right Back Where We Started From
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Mona Lisa Life 1973: Everything's Groovy free porn video
Mona Lisa Life 1973: Everything's Groovy
By Heather St. Claire
Claire had gone all out for this anniversary dinner. She and Melissa had
been together for twenty years as of this evening. Claire and her love
had spent two decades in a small town together as a war widow raising
her two daughters with the help of her maiden aunt.
The roast in the oven was almost done; the potatoes and mixed vegetables
were coming along perfectly. Their best china rested atop their best
tablecloth. She took a moment to light the two candles on the dining
room table, then paused to give herself a quick self-appraisal in the
mirror; it was one of the countless female habits she had fallen into so
easily after her transformation twenty years earlier.
Through the magic of an angel, Claire (who had been a man named Bob) and
her companion Melissa (who had been a man named Troy) had been
transported back in time from the beginning of the 21st century to the
middle of the 20th. They found themselves assuming lives of women who
already existed; Claire had lost her husband on the battlefields of
Korea; and Melissa was her unmarried cousin who had come to live with
her and help her with the challenges of single motherhood.
It had been all their dreams come true and more.
Claire saw a 45-year-old woman looking back at her; she wore a pale
yellow sheath dress, and her hourglass figure was still nearly perfect
thanks in part to the more earthly magic of the foundation garments,
including a high leg girdle, that she still worse every day. She had a
double strand of pearls around her neck. Her hair was still in the
simple but feminine flip she had adopted after trying shorter hair in
the mid-sixties. (The flip was starting to go out of style, true, but
she liked how it looked on her, and this town was years behind the
fashion trends anyway. And it would come back one day. Fashion always
ran in cycles, she realized.)
Yes, Claire thought, not bad for a grandmother. She had become a
grandmother three years earlier when Patricia?Pat--had given birth to
her first child. Rose was still unmarried at 25, but Claire wasn't
worried; there was still plenty of time for her to start a family of her
own. In the meantime, Melissa and Claire were getting used to being
empty nesters.
Claire was fixing a stray strand of hair when she heard the front door
of the bungalow. She knew it was her darling Melissa. "Hey, beautiful!"
she called as she headed upstairs. "Going to change, and I'll be right
down." Claire knew that when Melissa came downstairs she would have shed
the pantsuit she had worn to her job at the bank and changed into a
short dress. While Claire favored the classic above-the-knee length for
her skirts and dresses, Melissa loved to show as much leg (and thigh) as
possible. "Why not?" thought Claire. "She's got the legs for it. She's
the sexiest great-aunt I know."
Melissa's journey over the years had been an interesting one
professionally as well as personally. She had hired on as a teller at
the town bank at the time of her arrival in 1953, and by the mid-
sixties, she was essentially running the place as chief teller. The
president, Mr. Johnson, was a figurehead. When she had been given the
title of vice-president three years earlier (but no additional salary),
Melissa figured that was as far as her career was going to go.
But then the women's movement came into full flower. And Mr. Johnson had
retired in 1972. Still, Melissa was more than a little surprised when
the bank's board of directors asked her to step into the job...and
accept a nice pay raise to go along with the title.
"You deserve it, and they know it," Claire had said at their celebratory
dinner. "Those poor men think they're keeping up with the times by
giving the job to someone who's earned it with almost twenty years of
outstanding work."
She paused, and had a lopsided grin when she continued. "Of course, I
think it's absolutely hilarious they felt they had to tell you you
couldn't start campaigning for the Equal Rights Amendment and you
couldn't burn your bra."
Melissa rolled her eyes. "As much as I would love to campaign for the
ERA, we know it's not going to make it, as for bra burning..." she
pointed to her rather ample bosom. "I NEED my bra, dammit!" she said
with mock seriousness.
There wasn't anything about Melissa's work wardrobe that would cause
concern for the conservative men on her board of directors. She still
wore dresses to work in her new role the majority of days, but more and
more she ventured out in dressy slacks and pantsuits. "It's what women
are wearing nowadays, and I like them," she told Claire. "Well, I
don't," Claire said, pouting. "I'm selfish, I want to see your beautiful
legs every moment I can. And besides, it's just not ladylike. You might
as well just grow back your male equipment."
Melissa pretended to be shocked. "The things that come out of your mouth
sometimes, woman," she said with a chuckle.
"Don't call me that!" Claire shrieked. Then, pulling her close, she
planted a kiss on her soft lips and said. "Wait! Call me that anytime
you want." Then she kissed her again.
Claire had entered the working world herself five years earlier, right
after she and Melissa had become empty nesters. Not surprisingly, her
maternal instincts caused her to gravitate toward children, and she was
hired on as a teacher's aide at the local elementary school. Being
around young children all day and getting paid for it? She couldn't
think of a better way to spend her days.
While it had been a dream come true in almost every aspect, a few storm
clouds had crossed their mostly bright horizons. One of the most
difficult periods had come just a few weeks earlier when Father McDowell
had rather rudely told them they were no longer welcome at their local
parish. "Other houses of worship in this community may be more tolerant
of....of your sin," he said from behind his desk. He gazed into the
distance instead of looking at them directly.
Father McDowell had only been in town a few months. He was a tall, thin
man with an angular face and harsh features. He didn't look happy even
when he smiles. What a contract from dear old Father McKenzie, a
potbellied, ruddy, jovial redhead who seemed to laugh his way through
life.
Melissa had just sat there, open-mouthed, when the priest told them they
had to leave the parish. Claire, normally the less assertive member of
the couple, was the one who flashed in anger. "Just what sin are you
talking about, Father? You know we're both in your confessional weekly,
and we confess ALL of our sins."
McDowell stared back at her without a hint of warmth. "You know the
abomination I'm talking about. You know it very well. We're done,
ladies," he said, rising to leave.
Claire grabbed a tearful Melissa's hand to help her to her feet, she was
so shaken. "Yes we are done, Father. Good day."
For a few weeks, Melissa had been too hurt to venture into any house of
worship. But at Claire's urging, she had attended a service at the local
Episcopal Church. With the familiar rituals and the welcoming smiles
that greeted them, she knew immediately they had both found a church
home.
Claire's thoughts shifted back to the present when she caught sight of
her love coming down the stairs in a curve-hugging black mini-dress that
showed every bit of her legs, had a low, scooped neckline that revealed
plenty of cleavage, and basically left little to the imagination. They
offered a prayer of Thanksgiving before beginning their delicious meal.
Mostly they made small talk about life in town, at the bank, at the
school; but over their after-dinner coffees, they turned back to the
subject of their banishment from the church and to a pair of visitors
coming that weekend.
"I'm so glad both of the girls can make it out here at the same time,"
Claire said.
"Me too," Melissa said, nodding. "You really think it's time we told
them?"
"Past time," Claire said. She playfully twirled a strand of her hair.
"So before they get here, let's make sure we wear ourselves out." She
winked at her best friend, companion and lover of twenty years.
"You got it, babe. The dishes can wait until later."
Claire and Melissa were up early for the hour drive to the airport. The
two girls had flown into Denver on separate flights, and then taken a
plane together to their final destination, the big municipal airport
about 45 miles from their hometown. They could have gotten closer by air
if they had taken a commuter flight, but their mother and aunt insisted
they stay away from small planes.
They had a wonderful family reunion at the airport gate that continued
on the drive home. Claire and Melissa may have known that President
Nixon was a year away from resigning and that Oakland was going to win
two more World Series, but they didn't know what tomorrow would bring in
their own lives or the lives of their daughters.
They had both pegged Rose, their girly girl (another term still decades
away from being coined) as a traditional housewife and mother for sure.
She was the one who had eagerly gone for the fitting of her first
foundation garments, while younger sister Patricia, the tomboy, had
fought her initiation into a bra and girdle mightily. They had imagined
Pat, as preferred to be called from adolescence on, as the free spirit
roaming the world or settling in as a full-time career woman. College
sent both of them onto different paths.
It was one of the most tumultuous eras in American history, and although
the small state campus where both girls enrolled was spared the worst of
the upheaval, enough of the revolutionary spirit was in the air to
transform Rose's horizons. She shifted her major from psychology to
political science and by her senior year was making plans to spend a
year in the Peace Corps. Much to the relief of her mother and aunt, she
had returned from India safely, and quickly enrolled in law school. She
was getting ready to graduate this year and was sending out dozens of
job applications to organizations that dealt with civil rights and
environmental issues.
Something very different happened to Pat when she arrived on campus a
couple of years later.
She fell in love.
She came home at winter break of her freshman year to announce that she
was engaged, and that the wedding would take place six weeks later.
("You aren't pregnant, are you?" asked a skeptical Aunt Melissa.) No,
Pat assured them, she and Dan simply couldn't wait to begin their lives
together. Two children had arrived in rapid succession?April, the first
grandchild, in the fall of 1969; Charles, named for her late father, in
the summer of 1970. ("I can't believe I'm a grandmother!" Claire had
exclaimed. "You're the sexiest darned grandma I know," Melissa had
replied.)
The four women spent the day getting reacquainted. Claire had a big
spread ready for dinner. She had just poured the coffee to go with the
desert and sat down. She picked up her coffee cup, started to speak,
then put the cup back in its saucer. She started again, this time
forcing herself to deliver the news: "Girls, there's something you need
to know about?about your Aunt Melissa and me. We're not just cousins.
We're lovers. We're lesbians." She looked into Melissa's face, which was
filled with concern and love. Melissa looked at the girls and nodded.
The girls looked at each other, than at the women who had raised them
with so much love and devotion.
"Oh, mother," Rose cried. "Don't you realize we've known for years?"
"Known? But how? When?" Melissa asked.
"Oh, mother, Auntie, it was pretty clear by the time we were teenagers,"
Pat said with a shake of the head. "We could hear you moving quietly
between each other's rooms after you thought we were sleeping. When we
were little, we thought it was because one of you had had a bad dream
and was scared?just like us. But by the time we were 14, 15, it was
pretty obvious something else was going on."
Rose added: "The way we'd see the two of you hugging and holding hands
every chance you had, just the way you treated each other with such
affection?more than just the affection two cousins would have for each
other. That told us a lot."
Pat chimed in: "And that taught us a lot. About love. About being
devoted to your mate."
Rose finished: "Whoever he?or she?may be."
"Oh, and the fact that neither of you gave any handsome bachelor even a
second glance was also kind of a dead giveaway," Pat said with a small
chuckle. The two older women shared a meaningful look and chuckled too.
Melissa managed to say, "Oh, girls," before she dissolved in happy
tears. Claire couldn't utter a word. Soon the room was filled with hugs
and happy tears. Claire wondered one more time why she had been so
exceptionally blessed.
Josephina
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