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Sandy by Ann Douglas (mf/ff) 1/11
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: AnnD: REPOST: Sandy - (01/11) - ff - mf
Date: Thu Jul 6 05:08:58 1995
Hi ...... As always, comments are both appreciated and
encouraged. Tell me what you liked about the story and what
you disliked. Don't just say , "nice story" or "it stunk" I
only ask that you reply by e-mail instead of postings, that
way I'm sure to get your reaction. Any and all email will
alwayNs be answered.
Thanks,
Ann D.
-SANDY-
Part I
By Ann Douglas
(AnnD@Pipeline.Com)
"Hold the door!" Sandy yelled as she
sprinted the last twenty feet to the rapidly closing door of
the Ferry's waiting area..
With only a half foot to spare, the blonde made it through,
much to the disappointment of the deck hand who got his kicks
closing the door in people's faces. Had she missed it, it
would be a long hour's wait until the next Ferry at 1:30 AM.
No sooner had she cleared the boarding ramp when it began to
rise, freeing the Staten Island Ferryboat Alice Austin to
begin her journey across New York Harbor.
Taking the late night boat was only one of the problems Sandy
Carradine had encountered since going on her firms four to
twelve shift about fiv
Ne weeks before. Over a month and she
still couldn't get into sleeping during the day. In fact, the
fact that the school bus for the local Junior High School was
located right in front of her small apartment house guaranteed
that she would wake up to the sound of two dozen teenagers
beneath her bedroom window every morning at 7:00.
Dropping her large carrybag onto one of the hard plastic
seats, Sandy dropped exhausted into another. It had been
another hot and humid August day and the night had brought
little relief. The small Ferry was pretty empty this time of
night, relatively speaking. At least it was a far cry was the
two thousand or so who took the early morning Ferry ride she
had been used to.
"Damn Betty Palmer for getting pregnant!" Sandy said under
her breath. "It's her fault that I'm on this stupid shift
again."
Six weeks ago, Sandy had been summoned to her supervisor's
office and told that since Betty was taking early maternity
leave, she would have to replace her as the night shift
supervisor. The twenty five year old had protested that she
had only come off the night shift six months before. Therefore
it wasn't fair that she be sent back. That if anything,
Steve Liebowitz, the new intern who would eventually replace
Betty on nights when her four month tour was over, should just
take over a little early.
The reply that she had gotten was that with Betty's sudden
departure, they felt it would be better to have an experienced
hand at the helm so to speak. Liebowitz just wasn't ready
for all that responsibility. Fighting back her anger, Sandy
had to resist the sudden urge she had to tell them what she
would like to do with her experienced hand.
So for the last month, Sandy had rearranged her life to fit
the new work schedule. With a few bumps along the way, she had
finally settled into a more or less even routine. The only
really great problem now was her boyfriend, Peter Ryan.
Sandy had been dating Peter for about three months. They had
met through Jim Anderson, a mutual friend, at a birthday
party for his wife. Sandy was instantly taken by his rugged
good looks and electric personality. Six years older, Peter
had looked into her deep blue eyes and asked her out less
than five minutes after they'd been introduced. When they had
gone out to dinner a few nights later, it took all the former
Catholic High School girl's self control, not to jump into bed
with him at the very first opportunity. Instead she
congratulated herself on her self-control and jumped into the
sack on their second date.
That was where their newfound relationship hit it's first
speedbump. Peter Ryan may have been, tall, handsome, athletic,
and incredibly charming, but astonishingly as it seemed, the
man was absolutely boring in bed. Never in her life had Sandy
spent the night with a lover so unimaginative. Oh, he wasn't
a virgin, and he did manage to get the job done. Yet she
sometimes wondered of his previous lovers had been some kind
of cross between Mary Poppins and Snow White. Whenever she
had suggested they try something a little interesting to spice
up the night a little, he quickly backed off the idea. One
night he had freaked when she had slid her cum-lubricated
finger into his ass during a round of some pretty serious
screwing. He nearly jumped out of bed and yelled at her for
even trying such a thing. That was something that only
"faggot's" did he had insisted. Try as she could, she'd been
unable to regain his interest or erection that night.
Now it had been almost three weeks since they had slept
together and Sandy couldn't wait until Saturday night. That
was the only day of the week they could still see each other,
and Peter had canceled out the last two weekends due to sudden
emergencies. He made no secret of the fact that he was
totally unhappy with the new arrangements, and Sandy wondered
if he had canceled their last two dates just out of spite. She
remembered the anger in his voice when he had told her when
she talked to him last.
"It's not my fault that we only have one night a week that
we can go out. If you want to spend more time together than
you'll just have to find a way to make the time."
Sandy had been incredibly angry as she slammed down the
phone. What did he expect her to do --- quit her job?
Pushing the angry memory to the back of her mind, Sandy began
to look about the small cabin and take note of her fellow
passengers. It was a little game she sometimes played, a way
to kill time on the twenty minute ride when she didn't feel
like reading. She would pick out a person at random, and try
to make up a story about their sex life. It was a silly game
really, but it was fun sometimes. Of course, during the
daytime she had a lot more interesting people to choose from.
Her selection finally narrowed down to an cleaning lady who
looked like those old Russian woman you always saw in the
movies and a tall Hispanic woman in a crisp white nurse's
uniform. Feeling a little naughty in her imagination tonight,
it had after all been so long since she'd be laid - she
picked the nurse.
The woman looked to be about twenty-two or three , with olive
skin. Her hair was a soft reddish brown, highlighted with
gold. The buttons of her starched uniform were opened
exceeding low, revealing a more than ample bosom. Sandy
wondered if she normally wore it that way or had just opened
it due to the dreadful heat. Following her gaze downward,
Sandy noted the long slender legs the seemed to go on and on.
It was hard to judge her height from a sitting position, but
Sandy guessed it to be about five foot nine.
She must work at a hospital, Sandy thought, or be a private
nurse who covers a late shift for someone. A wicked smile
came to the office manager's face as she imagined the nurse
giving some dirty old man some tender loving care. She tried
to imagine the body under the starched whites, wondering how
she made love to a man. Was it any different? There had been
three Puerto Rican girls in her high school class but Sandy
hadn't been friends with any of them. There were a number of
Hispanic men and women who worked for the firm, four on her
night shift alone. But Sandy had always had to deal with them
in a supervisor/employee role and such a relationship didn't
easily lend to friendship.
Eventually, the boat docked at Saint George and Sandy
followed the small crowd through the terminal to catch the
next train southward. She'd passed the Nurse on the way out
but didn't give her a second glance. After all, the game was
over and she had to be sure and not miss her ride. Like the
Ferry, the SIRT only ran once an hour after midnight. If she
had noticed the woman in white, she'd have seen the small
smile on her red lips. Sandy's little game hadn't gone
unnoticed.
Ann Douglas
Ann Douglas
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