Freeing Kirsty Ch. 04

Date: 10.03.2009

Keywords: Freeing, Kirsty, 04, Ch.,

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She only does hairdressing to get out of the house and away from Buster her moaning husband."

Kirsty looked at him through greatly narrowed eyes: "Merrick, I'm finding this hard to believe. It is impossible that a Mrs Mop, the person you have described, can exist. Should you not admit to me that you have gone over the top a tad?"

"No, of course not."

"It's not fair on me to raise my expectations to unrealistic levels."

"I know darling; I'll tell you what. If you honestly conclude that I have been lying about this I promise not to make any sexual demand on you for one week."

"Um, that is excessive. What about one night?"

"Very well, done. But I'm not making a counter bet because you hate losing."

"Well now, how can I possibly lose - you have nominated me as sole judge."

Mrs Stewart arrived next morning, gushing on about Kirsty's flawless skin, the quality of her hair, the pert shape of her breasts, the flatness of her stomach and her shapely bum, as she called it.

Poor Kirsty. Her face was flaming red. She heard Mrs Stewart slurp her coffee and wondered whether she usually drank it out of the saucer. While Merrick was chatting to Mrs Stewart, Kirsty took a good look at her: A terrible skin, breasts hanging down to her pot belly and an as ass that could politely be called 'comfortable'. A sense of impending doom consumed Kirsty.

Mrs Stewart lifted a carton of bits and pieces on to the table, and shooed Merrick from the room. It was a common as muck beer carton.

As soon as Mrs Stewart swept the fingers of her right hand through Kirsty's hair Kirsty's heart lifted. Those fingers seemed to shimmer through the hair. They then moved over to the kitchen sink where the hair was washed, and only briefly massaged before they returned to the kitchen chair pulled well clear of the table.

Mrs Stewart walked around Kirsty completely to return facing Kirsty and then she took two steps backwards. She stood with her left arm folded over her belly and supporting the elbow of her right hand, the index finger of that right hand resting lightly on her right cheek. Mrs Stewart's eyes riveted on Kirsty's face and hair, and all she said was, "Hmmmm."

Kirsty silently shouted, " Hallelijah!" If Merrick had the sense to walk through the door right at the moment he was welcome to have her, right on the floor and right in front of Mrs Stewart she fantasized. She'd jumped to an undeniable conclusion that everything was going to be all right and that for the first time, or at least as far as she knew it would have been the first time, Merrick had not been lying to her. Her eyes remain closed as she heard Mrs Stewart rummage around the carton, probably for scissors. Yes, scissors. They were very sharp and passed through her hair in a hand that was butterfly light.

"What's he like in bed, love. I've often wondered?"

Kirsty's eyes flew open...

Twenty-nine minutes later with the hair blower switched off, Mrs Stewart screamed out, "Come and have a look at your darling."

Merrick bounced in confidently, grinned and said, "I guess it's sex tonight after all."

"At your ages I thought you would have it was also at noon," Mrs Stewart said, conversationally.

Kirsty fluttered her eyelids at Merrick, rolling her eyes at the same time. He got the message and smoothly changed the subject as Mrs Stewart worked on Kirsty's nails.

He began magnificently: "Do you like the result darling? No need to be shy if you are critical because Mrs Stewart is oblivious to criticism or reprimands."

"It's equal to the best my hairdressers in New York have done for me – a fantastic cut and shape," Kirstly enthused.

"I bet you were nervous about an old tart like me taking to your hair with a pair of scissors," chortled Mrs Stewart.

"N-o-o," began Kirsty, realizing that Merrick would now learn that she sometimes lied. She wanted to reach up and hug him when he cut in smoothly: "I sang your praises high and loud Mrs Stewart," he said. "Kirsty came to you with great expectations."

"Huh?" said Mrs Stewart. "I came to Kirsty actually, but I get the drift. I'll do your hair and nails regularly for you now if you wish, Kirsty. I love being around sexy people. That's the reason why I've been a house cleaner for his nibs here. Now your shoes you'll be wearing to breakfast love, do they need cleaning? I'll attend to them if they do."

"No thank you Mrs Stewart. I will be wearing a new pair. I must look my best."

"Well, if she's going looking immaculate I want you to dress up too, my lad. No jeans and Sloppy Joe."

"Yes, ma'am."

Kirsty smiled sweetly at this remarkable woman. "How much do I owe you, Mrs Stewart? Will eighty dollars cover it or do you want more?"

"Good heavens, girl. Put your money away. This was an emergency so there's no charge. In future a hair and nails combo will cost you $45 if I do it here as I get the whole fee and pay no tax."

"That's very generous of you, Mrs Stewart."

"Call me Milly, honey, but he can keep on calling me Mrs Stewart; I like receiving respect from younger men."

An idea appeared to be forming within Kirsty.

"Mrs Stewart, do you and your husband like dancing?"

"I do, but that old coon won't go out at nights, so I miss out unless there is a girls' night out organized at the saloon; I usually get invited because most of them respect me."

"Well, this Sunday night would you be the guest of Merrick and me at a dine and dance - I just feel the need to reward you in some way for preparing me so beautifully for my imminent appraisal."

"Invited to a restaurant and at night. Oooh, I say. Yes dear, I'd be honored, but I must ask that you take me home because I do tend to over-imbibe at such functions."

"Collected and returned in a door-to-door service guaranteed," Merrick grinned, "but bring your husband. Tell him women showing lots of tit will be there. He'll go stale on you if he doesn't get out and about."

"That's lovely," trilled Mrs Stewart. "Right you two, your time is running out. Off and get ready. You don't leave this house unless you pass my inspection."

Kirsty, standing still completely nude while Merrick sprayed perfume over her entire body, said: "That was an unbelievable experience, darling. I still am shaking my head. She is so good."

"You are on a learning curve, darling. Kiwis are amongst the world's most creative people when given raw materials or implements. They even amaze the new technology gurus in the way they can adapt new hardware and software."

"That's very interesting darling, but please hurry. Your steel blue suit would be best, I think."

"Me wear a suit to my mother's house? That simply will not do. She will be convinced that you have bewitched me – that is, providing she recognizes me. No, a smart open neck shirt and sharp creased trousers finished off by shiny shoes. That passes mum's muster."

"I'm not sure what you are talking about, but pl-e-a-s-e dress and act to meet her highest expectations of you."

"I will."

They paraded before Mrs Stewart, who thought Kristy looked stunning.

"Those breasts dears, you height, your hair. You make me go weak at the knees," she said, making Kirsty feel a little edgy.

"Passed with honors," decreed Mrs Stewart.

She then inspected Merrick. "Nice butt," she said, giving it a playful slap. Then she cried, "Go replace those shoes - wear black for God's sake!"

"I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen," said Kirsty, as Merrick slunk off to change his shoes.

"Continue to apply the pressure, my love," advised Mrs Stewart. "Men really have little in the way of good taste; they must be manipulated."

"Thank you, Milly, responded Kirsty. "You are a wonderful mine of information."

"When sex leaves our lives, that is one of our few relevant functions," replied Mrs Stewart, with profound certainty that rocked Kirsty.

"Make sure that you build your foundation of marriage around more levels than sex," Mrs Stewart said, giving Kirsty a huge wink. "You know, you are very much like the daughter we never had. We had a son, but he no longer wishes to know us."

Walking up to Merrick, now preppy in black shoes, Kirsty announced that she was prepared as she ever could be for the head-to-head meeting. She surprised herself at baring her soul: "Thank you darling, for assisting me in my moment of need."

Merrick only vaguely knew what she was on about, whereas Kirsty knew, even in this modern technological age, she was being swept up in one of the most ancient rituals of mankind: meeting the prospective mother-in-law.

Kirsty was nervous and quiet in the drive over to the North Shore so Merrick left her to her thoughts and instead amused himself by trying to imagine what was passing through his mother's mind.

The reality was that Mrs Linda Jamieson was an ageing widow who'd married a man with the unflattering name of Basil, now deceased. Linda Jamieson was very aware that her son Merrick had allowed one marriage to slip through his hands and now he was attempting to achieve a more successful replay.

Merrick sighed as he continued to think about his mother. She regarded his previous wife as being more or less a self-ingratiating cow and it was unlikely that this new candidate would be any better, particularly as she was an American - and not only that - a New Yorker. In Linda's mind this was an unbalanced relationship and was doomed. Not only that but Linda would be consumed with jealousy when she saw her son's new lady. Not only did the New Yorker sport a flash new haircut but her finger-nails were done to perfection and she was dressed in clothes to die for.

Actually, thought Merrick, would the fingernails be noticed? His mother would certainly notice according to the scheming wench at his side, togged up in clothes more suited for a revival Sunday School picnic. He then imagined his mother pulling her right hand up near her face and looking at the jagged, bitten nails. She would then scowl, what right has this American intruder to outdress and outshine me!
With a wave of his hand, a shimmering fog appeared, opening in its center, a shining white city taking form.

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Keywords: Freeing, Kirsty, 04, Ch.,


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