The Divine “Miss M”

Never met anyone like Maggie before. At 26 she was independent enough to leave her family in Europe and relocate to New York’s hippest Brooklyn neighborhood. For two years she had developed a whole new life with an entirely new identity. It was the happiest she’d ever been.

Working locally in a variety of retail stores, all of the locals knew her, if not by name, by site. Maggie was statuesque, standing 6 foot 2” tall as she walked to work each morning. She had a strong Irish accent with the expected green eyes, curly red hair and a multitude of freckles. Always wearing long skirts, baggy shirt with boots and a slight bit of makeup Maggie could be seen from two blocks away. Her presence was always undeniable.

Still a very private person, she never invited anyone into her home. Maggie seemed happiest spending time with the gang of like aged guys who lived and worked in the neighborhood. They referred to her as “The Divine Miss M.” A nickname she wore with pride.

Most evenings after work Maggie hung out on the sidewalk of the local Irish Pub with her friends. They’d sit around bullshitting while people watching. Each took a turn making sly and sometimes derogatory comments about people as the crowd leisurely breezed by. Always noticing what fashions people were donning, the abs on a good looking guy or the great rack on the girl at the next table.

Maggie noticed good looking ass across genders. In fact, ass watching seemed to be what she enjoyed most. The guys all agreed that The Divine Miss M was an ass connoisseur. They commented that “she may look like a girl… but she thinks like a guy.” After a few hours of drinking and spectating, Maggie always excused herself from the group and headed home alone.

Even after a year of hanging together, Maggie never dated or showed interest in any of her comrades. It made them wonder about her. So, when she wasn’t around they took bets on who would be the first one to get her into bed. None of them ever won because they weren’t ever welcomed past her front door.

A Voyeur’s Story…

On a warm evening in August, three of her friends decided to follow her home looking for answers as to why no one was ever welcomed into her home. Having drunken too much, they weren’t thinking clearly and thought it would be fun to deviously spy on their mysterious buddy. She lived in the back apartment on the ground floor so they decided to peek at her through the windows.

One of them watched her doing something in the living room while the other two stood at the bathroom window waiting for her to enter. They figured the bathroom would be the best place to watch. Indeed it was.

The light switch turned on and the drunken boy’s eyes opened wide so as not to miss a beat. Maggie walked in picked up the toilet seat and her skirt, then relieved herself standing with a full stream arching into the bowl.