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Sandy by Ann Douglas (mf/ff) 2/11
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 - (02/11) - ff - mf
Date: Thu Jul 6 05:09:01 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
always be answered.
Thanks,
Ann D.
-SANDY-
Part II
By Ann Douglas
(AnnD@Pipeline.Com)
The next day was Tuesday, and it was a day pretty much like
any other. Sandy had tried to call Peter several times but was
always catching him in conference or out. She knew he was
avoiding her, forcing her to decide between him or her job.
Well she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She'd teach him
to take her for granted. Wait until they went out on Saturday
night. Even if she had to tie him down to do it, Sandy was
determined to give him the fuck of his life. After that, lets
see him ignore her. After all, she remembered, at first he
really wasn't keen on the idea of her going down on him. Yet
after only a single demonstration, he quickly became a convert
to the idea.
The night passed rather quickly and midnight soon came.
Taking up an offer for a lift to the South Ferry Terminal,
Sandy had no trouble making the twelve-thirty boat. As was
her custom, she took her usual seat in the rear right section
of the boat. It was funny, she thought how people always seem
to go to the same seats night after night, even when there
was so many empty seats.
In fact, since most of the people around her were the same
night after night, she usually looked for the outsider to be
the player in her game. Bypassing the familiar faces, Sandy's
sights stopped for a moment on a tall olive skinned woman in
a security guard's uniform.
"Now there's a lousy job to have," Sandy said to herself.
"Long hours, minimum wage."
Discounting her as a player, Sandy's
imaginary scope moved on. After all, why pick the same type
of person two nights in a row. Finding no one that struck her
immediate interest, the blonde was surveying the choices a
second time when she took a longer look at the security guard.
"She's the nurse!" Sandy exclaimed to herself. "The hair is
black now and in a braid, but that's the same woman. I'm sure
of it. How could she be a nurse one day and a security guard
the next?"
Determined to get a closer look to be sure, Sandy waited
until the Ferry began to get close to port and people began to
line up at the front of the boat. That was another thing she
had never understood. Why with only about a hundred people
onboard, a line would still form at the gangway before they
even docked. Whatever the reason, it gave her an excuse to
take a closer look at this mystery woman.
Pausing at the row just in front of the woman, Sandy leaned on
an empty row of plastic seats as if to steady her balance.
Taking a long, hard look, she confirmed it was indeed the same
woman who had worn the nurse's whites the night before. Right
down to the bright red lipstick and the open buttons on her
blouse. After a few seconds, the woman looked up from her
newspaper and smiled at Sandy. Embarrassed at being caught
staring, the blonde haired woman quickly and wordlessly moved
to the front of the boat.
The next day, Sandy couldn't get the strange woman out of her
thoughts. This was a much more exciting game than she was
used to playing. Would she be back on the Ferry tonight, if
so, how would she be dressed...and why? The hours seemed to
go so slow and as midnight approached they seemed to go even
slower. Finally, the night was over and she rushed out the
door. When her ride to the terminal got stuck behind a bus,
Sandy watched the minutes click off on the dashboard clock and
as twelve twenty approached, she was sure she'd missed her
boat.
Rushing up the escalator, Sandy reached the top just in time
to see the sliding access door close to only a one foot
opening. She had missed it.
Suddenly the door stopped and began to side back open.
Pushing it was a different younger deckhand.
"Hurry up." He yelled. "You can still make it."
As she dashed inside, Sandy paused just long enough to smile
at the deckhand and say thank you. Between the humidity and the
rapid beating of her heart, she was covered with sweat and out
of breath by the time she took her seat.
It took no effort to locate her mystery woman, she had moved
to a new seat only a few rows in front of Sandy as if she
wanted to be seen. It seemed as if she was now an equal player
in the game, but what was the game and what were the rules?
As on the previous two nights, the woman now projected a
totally new image. She wore a bright blue business suit with a
matching skirt. Her buttons were firmly closed this time, her
top button covered by a small cloth tie. Her hair was still
black but now long and tied tightly into a bun. If she had to
pick an occupation for the woman, Sandy's first choice would
be a librarian.
This time, Sandy didn't approach the woman. In fact, she
waited until the boat docked and the "librarian" exited first.
All during the ride home on the train, Sandy couldn't contain
her excitement. This was exciting - who would she be tomorrow?
Thursday passed in a blur. All Sandy could think about was
the Ferry trip home. Peter had called and left messages for
her on her voice mail but she was in no rush to return his
calls. Let him wait a while and see how he likes it. Finally
as eleven-thirty struck, Sandy did something she had never
done before - she left work early. She just couldn't take the
chance she would miss the twelve thirty Ferry. It had been a
slow night and after making sure that everything that had to
be done was done, she left the office in the hands of her
assistant.
Reaching the terminal about midnight, Sandy carefully scanned
the crowd gathered in the large waiting area. There was no
sign of her. The sliding access door soon opened and the small
crowd surged inside. Checking her watch, Sandy took a
position right at the door and waited until the last possible
moment to board. So absorbed was she in looking for her quarry
that she didn't even notice that the door had begun to close.
"Hey lady, are you coming or what?" Called out the deckhand,
rousing Sandy from her trance.
Without a word, she ran up the corridor and onto the Ferry.
Taking her usual seat, she stared out the window into the
night sky. Watching the tiny lights spread across the harbor,
Sandy felt a little let down. The game had been fun and a lot
more interesting than it usually was. She was sorry to see it
end.
"Maybe I just missed her?" She said to herself. "Maybe she
was dressed in such a way that I didn't recognize?"
That thought in mind, Sandy rose to her feet and began to
walk the length of the small Ferry. After her second circuit
and an inspection of every passenger aboard, for all Sandy
knew she could be dressed like a man tonight, she finally had
to admit defeat. The boat docked soon after and a slightly
dejected woman walked to the waiting train.
The next day, Friday, seemed to be the worst day of the
summer. The mercury never dropped below 98 the entire day and
the setting of the sun beneath the horizon brought no real
relief. Nothing had gone right that day for Sandy. A short
blackout in her area had put an end to the air conditioner,
driving her totally up the wall. Inside her small apartment
the temperature soared over a hundred.
Her attempts to contact Peter had hit a stone wall. As far
as she knew, they were still on for tomorrow, but he was
being a real prick about returning her calls. She would show
him she thought, wait until I get him into bed. Maybe I'll
bring him right to the brink and then suddenly get a headache.
That'll show him not to play these games. That she was equally
guilty never occurred to her.
Ann Douglas
Ann Douglas
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