Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

by erotic scribbler

©Copyright 2023 erotic scribbler

Can Margaret, a woman with a past she doesn’t want to remember, find peace in her new life as a rich wife, or will a conflict with her stepson’s new girlfriend and a friend from her past unravel the new world she wants to become a part of? A cloud of naughty erotica hangs overhead.

Chapter 1

I thought you liked her,” Samantha said.

“I did, do, I do like her,” Margaret said.

“Then what changed?”

Nothing had changed, Margaret thought, I do like her, a lot. “It's not like that.”

“Well, what's it like then? You like her, and Tony loves her. What's the problem?”

Still not ready to voice her actual concern, Margaret said, “It's like she didn't exist before Anthony met her on Spring break. What 25-year-old do you know who doesn't have any presence on social media?”

“Says the 30-year-old woman without a Facebook account.”

“That's different,” Margaret said. “You know how the family is about image. One wrong post on social media can blow up into a scandal.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Samantha said. “So why me? Can't you do it? Or better yet, use one of those investigators Andre uses whenever he hires staff for the house. I still can't believe it, you, Maggie May, have maids and a cook.”

Margaret stiffened and clenched her fists. “Samantha, please, this is important.”

“Just because you don’t like Maggie anymore, doesn't mean you gotta call me Samantha. At least call me Sam if Sammy is too much of a-”

“Fine, okay, fine, Sam,” Margaret said. “Will you help me or not?”

Again, Samantha asked, “Why me?”

“Anthony is in love, so if he ever found out I was checking on her, he’d never forgive me. Plus, you have ways, and know about things like this.”

Samantha’s thighs squeaked on the Escalade's leather seat as she turned her body sideways, facing Margaret. “I'll do it under one condition.”

Margaret throttled her exasperation and spoke softly, “What condition?”

“Tell me what really prompted this, because this isn't like you.”

Too quickly, Margaret snapped, “I’m different now.”

“Sure, but still, what turned you against her all of a sudden? Did something happen?”

“I think Anthony wants to marry her, and I don't trust her.”

“Don’t trust her,” Samantha repeated. “Did you see something, did she do anything, is she a gold digger? Tell me something.”

“I hope not, I really do, but I got this feeling.” It was more than a feeling, but Margaret wasn't going to explain, not now.

“He's your stepson, of course you have a feeling, but that doesn't justify digging up a girl's past . . . if there is one.”

“Sammy, please, see what you can find out,” Margaret placed her hand on Samantha’s arm, “and I’ll explain later.”

“Okay. You got a picture.”

“I texted you her full name, date of birth, and the town she’s from, supposedly, and the college she went to. Why do you need a picture?”

“So I’ll know what she looks like,” Samantha said. “Don’t you have one?”

“Yeah, sure.” Margaret found a picture of Jennifer and held out her phone.

Samantha snatched the phone out of Margaret’s hand and used her fingers to zoom in. “Shit, Magg-” She looked back and forth from Margaret to the redhead in the picture.

Margaret shrugged. “I know, she’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah, that too.” Samantha swiped through pictures, nodding her head. “You got a lot of pictures of her.” She stopped at a picture of Jennifer in a bikini that barely contained the girl’s breasts. “Are you sure Tony boy isn’t in love with his step-mommy?”

Margaret stifled a laugh, thinking about how horribly uncomfortable it had been seven years earlier when Andre finally introduced his twenty-three-year-old girlfriend to his son, Anthony.

For months, whenever Margaret saw the eighteen-year-old boy, his expression was either one of disgust or lust. Out of respect for his father, Anthony was civil toward Margaret and eventually friendly, but the idea of having her as a stepmother was something they both joked about even after the wedding. As it turned out, the family's international business kept Andre away often, so Margaret and Anthony spent a lot of time together.

She was grateful to have someone around the house who was close in age and not a servant. They became great friends and even confidants, but Margaret had no maternal nature to offer, and Anthony didn’t want it. “What are you talking about?” Margaret asked.

“This is you,” Samantha said. “She looks just like you back when it was okay to call you Maggie May.”

“It’s just a coincidence?” Margaret thought about the visceral reaction she had the first time she walked into a room and saw Jennifer. Flashbacks to a not long gone Maggie version of herself had left Margaret silent, staring stupidly at Jennifer until Tony cleared his throat and said, “Earth to Meg.” The shortened version of her name, only used by Tony in private had snapped Margaret back. With crimson cheeks, she said, “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Jennifer ignored the outstretched hand and hugged Margaret like an old friend. “I've heard so much about you.”

Margaret thought, and I've heard absolutely nothing about you.

Chapter 2

“You’ve got a lot of pictures of her.” Samantha kept swiping through Margaret’s gallery. “You and her at the beach, by the pool, out shopping, at Six Flags. Seems like you should know each other by now. Hasn’t she told you anything about her past?”

Margaret had been spending a lot of time with Jennifer since Anthony went to work in the family business. The girl filled the void in her life when Andre was away, the way Tony had years before.

Margaret felt so close to Jennifer at times, like she really knew her, except Jennifer avoided talking about her past and what Margaret knew she wasn’t sure she believed. It seemed manufactured. “Some, but not a lot, and I don’t want her to feel like I’m interrogating her. She might tell Anthony. That’s why I’m asking you to help me.”

“Alright, you convinced me.”

“Thank you.”

“What are old friends for.” Samantha leaned across the console and kissed Margaret’s cheek. “I better get going.”

Margaret waited until Samantha got into her Honda before driving away from her friend. There wasn’t anybody left in Margaret’s life who she had known longer, yet they barely saw each other and lived worlds apart. That was telling of the life that Margaret now lived.

---

On her way home, Margaret thought about what Samantha said, “That’s not like you.” It seemed that Samantha knew her better than Margaret knew herself lately. Why would she want to uncover Jennifer's past?

Margaret drove up the bleached-white concrete driveway that arched between the fountain and the mansion. She passed a red Corvette Stingray and a widebody hellcat Dodge Challenger and parked in front of Jennifer's second-hand Toyota Camry.

Most of the staff had nicer cars than Jennifer, and Anthony would have let her drive one of the many cars in the stable, but she insisted on putting that eyesore in front of the house. Thinking about it made Margaret smile.

Their favorite cars in the drive didn't mean they were home. For sure, Andre wasn't. He was somewhere in Europe finalizing a takeover of some company Margaret knew nothing about. Lily, one of the live-in staff, greeted Margaret in the foyer. She handed the woman her keys and handbag and told Lily she didn't need anything else. “Is anybody here,” Margaret asked, knowing Lily would understand who she meant.

Lily tsked. “No ma'am, but the girl is in the kitchen.”

Margaret wondered how long Lilly had referred to her as the girl or if she still did behind her back.

The smell of coffee reached Margaret before she got to the kitchen. The powerful odor said it was the strong stuff Jennifer liked. The motion of the girl's body told Margaret that, as usual, she was listening to music through her earbuds. Margaret paused and watched Jennifer sip the steaming black coffee, then reach for a sponge.

That’s when Margaret saw how worn the girl’s blue jeans were. Jennifer bent over to wipe drops of coffee off the tile, and threadbare patches stretched tight, cutting into tan flesh. She's either wearing a thong or nothing, Margaret thought.

She swatted Jennifer’s butt. It surprised Jennifer but didn't scare her. She touched the earbuds to silence them, squinted her eyes, and tried for a scowl, but a not-so-repressed grin and Jennifer's adorable face made Margaret laugh.

“You know I can be scary mean if I need to be,” Jennifer said.

There was no doubt in Margaret's mind that despite the cute sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks and those enchanting blue eyes, there was a fierce rage burning somewhere inside Jennifer. “I know you can.” Margaret wondered if Jennifer had ever felt like she was looking into a mirror at the future, the way she felt she was looking into her past.

“You know I can see your ass through the holes in your jeans,” Margaret said. “We could go shopping?”

Jennifer twisted further than seemed possible and looked down over her shoulder at the finger she had just poked into the hole. “Why, you wanna get a pair like these, too?”

With as much indignation as Margaret could muster, she said, “That’ll be the day.”

Jennifer firmly grasped Margaret’s ass cheek and squeezed it appraisingly. “You got the goods to rock a pair like these.”

She just felt up my ass, Margaret thought, I knew it, it wasn’t my imagination.

As if Margaret hadn’t believed her, Jennifer continued, “I mean it, your body is insane, and I rarely see you using the gym.”

Chapter 3

Certainly not as much as you, Margaret thought. She often considered joining Jennifer, but the girl was a machine, working out as if her life depended on it and on a schedule that she stuck to. Even though the gym was in the house, it had become a challenge for Margaret to get there twice a week.

“It’s an accident of birth,” Margaret said, and that’s how she had always thought of her looks, nothing to be proud of. The way she and Samantha had learned to use their bodies to get what they wanted was another story.

“I suppose you’re right, but I need to . . .” Jennifer trailed off and looked away from Margaret.

The awkward silence was broken by Jennifer, “Hey, Tony has been working late and going in early. His father must think it’s time for him to learn to run a company . . . or he’s trying to keep him away from me.” Jennifer laughed, but Margaret knew the girl wasn’t being facetious, and she very well could be right. “So you wanna have dinner with me?”

Margaret took a minute to act as if she were considering it before saying, “Sure. Do you have an idea of what you want to eat? I’ll tell-”

“No, I’d rather go out and at least pay for the food someone else is cooking and serving me.”

After growing up the way she had, and doing what she had done to survive, Margaret totally got it. It had taken years to become somewhat accustomed to having other people cook and clean for her. She smiled sympathetically at Jennifer and said, “That’ll be great.”

“Thank you,” Jennifer said. “I know a great place, and I’m buying.”

“How should I dress?”

Jennifer laughed. “I’m going just the way I am.”

The words, just the way I am, coming out of the younger version of herself, made Margaret’s eyes sting. It was the code she and Samantha lived by. They were what they were, doing what they had to do, and they wouldn’t change for anyone. She had told Andre, “This is who I am, so don’t ever say you didn’t know what you were getting into.” Full disclosure.

He had given her that dazzling grin she fell in love with and said, “I know, and I’ll take you just the way you are.”

Had Anthony gotten the whole truth about Jennifer, whatever it was?

---

As promised, the restaurant was a hole-in-the-wall with great seafood and a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean, and Margaret enjoyed it more than she could have imagined. It wasn't the food, the atmosphere, or the spectacular sunset; it was enjoying all of them with Jennifer.

Margaret had always liked Jennifer and enjoyed spending time with her, but without Anthony or any reminders of the lifestyle he lived, Jennifer was different. Her smile seemed more genuine, she laughed freely, made jokes, and even cursed. It was contagious.

Margaret couldn't remember the last time she had laughed loudly in public or at all. It was so much fun that Margaret forgot why she had agreed to dinner in the first place.

That was until they decided to take a walk on the beach. Jennifer was happy, talkative, and maybe ready to open up. “Nothing like Kansas, is it?”

Margaret saw Jennifer's expression and demeanor change and thought she either wasn't from Kansas or something bad happened there.

“Did I tell you I was from Kansas?”

“You must have because I know,” Margaret said. “Unless Anthony told me.”

Jennifer nodded and kept walking until she finally said, “Definitely not.”

They continued on, but Jennifer’s steps seemed lethargic, and she remained silent. It made Margaret feel bad. She had spoiled the evening with one question.

Margaret offered, “It's not anything like where I'm from, either.” It didn't work, Jennifer only nodded.

Margaret crossed her arms and shivered. “It got chilly.”

“Yes, it did, we should head back.”

On the drive home, Margaret tried, but the new Jennifer, who was probably the real Jennifer, couldn't be resurrected again. She pulled her Toyota up in front of the mansion and told Margaret she planned on spending the night at her apartment. Wherever that is, Margaret thought.

Margaret expected it would be a while before she got to be alone with Jennifer again. That wouldn’t make sense to most people, but Margaret completely got it, and that made her more determined to find out the truth about Jennifer.

Chapter 4

Over the next few days, Margaret thought about the girl who likes to make her own coffee and clean up after herself even though nobody expected it. Jennifer was more comfortable driving her own car and eating at a seedy bar-restaurant where there were live bands on weekends, maybe a fistfight, and someone would probably fuck in the restroom or parking lot.