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Published by Shana Mahaffey
Short Story about Mary McMorrow's fantasy and how it got fulfilled in a most unusual way...
Short Story about Mary McMorrow's fantasy and how it got fulfilled in a most unusual way...

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Published by: Shana Mahaffey on Feb 07, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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Copyright 2011All rights reserved
By Shana MahaffeyIt was the craziest threesome Mary had ever been a part of. She’d been fantasizingabout taking part in one ever she turned down an offer from her roommates in college.OK, threesomes weren’t on her One Hundred Things to Do Before You Die list, butMary figured if the opportunity presented itself again, she could definitely swap runninga marathon for it.The event itself happened on a Friday morning, after many martinis and a few errantolives. Like most threesomes, this one was spontaneous and not at all what Maryexpected. The seeds, though, had been planted at a family dinner about six monthsearlier. They’d just cleared the dinner plates and were waiting for dessert when Mary’sfather, Mr. McMorrow, said “I’ll be going down on Mrs. McMorrow soon.”When he heard this, Joseph, Mary’s elder brother and only sibling, spit his mouthfulof thirty-two dollar South African shiraz across the Belvedere Ivory table linen. At thesame moment Mrs. McMorrow walked in carrying the cherry pie they’d been smelling allafternoon.She paused in the doorway and gushed, “Oh honey,” as her face flushed pink.Mr. McMorrow narrowed his eyes and set his mouth into a mean line. “I’ll only begoing down on the first Mrs. McMorrow. There will be no room for the second one.”The pink hue on June McMorrow’s cheeks turned purple. She slipped the cherry pieinto the palm of her left hand and said, “We’ll see about that,” punctuating her words byhurling the pie, shot-put like, straight at Mr. McMorrow.
Copyright 2011All rights reserved
 2An hour later, as Mary wiped cherry backspatter off the dining room wall, she askedJune, “Why did you marry him?”Mary knew why her father chose June because she’d had a hand in it. Although, ittook two marriages, some lesbian experimentation, and five years of therapy to discover this. Fresh off a recent breakthrough, Mary had hoped to start making amends over a bucket of soap and water.“It was 1972,” said June. “I’ve never been a modern woman.” Modern enough to goto key parties, thought Mary. “And I was a widow without the means to support myself.”A widow? After ten years she’s still telling that lie?June had told everyone her husband had died while they were on a trip to Ohio wherethey both grew up. June said she had decided to go ahead and bury him next to his parents before returning home to San Francisco. Everyone believed her until six monthslater, the divorce papers arrived, certified mail, at the doctor’s office where June workedas a receptionist. By the following day, the word had spread that June’s husband wasalive and living with a bisexual Jewish acupuncturist in New York.June greeted her divorce papers like a liberator. She immediately started wearing perfume to mass and had taken to sitting in the pew at church directly behind Mr.McMorrow.Several hours, a bottle of stain remover, and four Bombay and tonics later, June askeda now cringing with regret over her desire to make reparations Mary, “Do you know whatyour father said to me on our first date?” Mary didn’t want to know, but before she couldsay so, June continued, “He told me everyone deserved a good spanking.”
Copyright 2011All rights reserved
 3Having been on the receiving end of countless “well deserved” spankings, Maryknew exactly what her father meant. But she only nodded, hoping no reply would end thecurrent conversation thread because before they married, it was common knowledge toeveryone, but Mary’s father who didn’t listen to parish gossip, that all it took was a diner dinner and a bottle of twist top to get June on all fours, arms outstretched, her ass high inthe air ready for a good spanking.When it came to Mary’s father, June, on a matrimony mission had managed to keepher ass out of the air. And Mr. McMorrow, a novice to this sort of thing was genuflecting before her with a ring in six short weeks.When Joseph heard his father was planning to marry “loose baggage” who’d beenaround every available block in the Bay Area, he immediately jumped in his green FordGalaxy and drove over from Berkeley.Twenty minutes later, Joseph pulled into his parent’s driveway and vaulted out of hiscar without switching off the ignition or shutting the door. Mr. McMorrow opened thekitchen window to greet him. The soon-to-be-second Mrs. McMorrow stood next to himsmiling and waving as Joseph collapsed down on the front lawn. His new girlfriend,Marta, a hula hoop instructor who swore by L.S.D. and Earth shoes, stood behind him, positioning a neon orange hoop on her waist. As Joseph arched over and pounded his fistson the lawn, her hoop began to whirl in a tangy blur of accompaniment to the words,“Dad, for God sake, sleep with her but don’t marry her.”Mr. McMorrow’s face registered confusion over this piece of performance art. Thesoon-to-be-second Mrs. McMorrow’s smile just split wider while her hand wagged in the

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