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Sandy by Ann Douglas (mf/ff) 3/11
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 - (03/11) - ff - mf
Date: Thu Jul 6 05:08:55 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 III
By Ann Douglas
(AnnD@Pipeline.Com)
During the dinner break that night, Sandy mentioned the
strange woman on the Ferry to a few of her friends. She left
out the part about her little fantasy game of course, just
mentioning how she had seen this woman dressed up a different
way each evening. Each of the people at her table had a
different idea of why the woman was dressing up like that.
Sandy listened with interest at each suggestion.
"A lot of people have both a day and night job, maybe she
just has a lot of different part time jobs." Suggested Kathy
Davis.
"I thought about that," Sandy replied as she nibbled at her
salad. "I could match up her being a nurse and then some other
kind of professional the night she wore the suit, but somehow
being a by the hour security guard didn't really fit in."
"I'll bet she's an actress." Mary Jane Sullivan suggested.
"You know they sometimes really try to get into a character
when they're trying out for a role. Maybe she's just
attending a lot of auditions."
"That's a good idea, I hadn't really
considered that one." Sandy said. "But wouldn't most
auditions be held during the day?"
Mary Jane thought about it for a second then nodded in
agreement. She hadn't thought of that.
"There's another possibility that you ladies have
overlooked." Said Timmy O'Brien, the only man in their little
quartet. "She could be a hooker."
"A hooker?" Sandy repeated in surprise.
"Yeh, think about it." Timmy continued. "A lot of guys are
into that role-playing scene. Maybe she gets a turn-on
wearing her outfit of the night home."
"Speaking from experience are we?" Kathy quipped with a sly
smile.
"Or maybe she just doesn't have time to change since she has
to catch the 12:30 Ferry just like Sandy does." Mary Jane
interjected.
"I don't know." Sandy mused. "Well no matter the reason, she
wasn't on last nights boat so I guess she was lucky enough to
get off the night shift. Something none of else will ever do
if we don' get back to work."
With a serious of faked moans and groans, her three dinner
partners rose from the table and returned to their jobs. The
last to leave the table, Sandy gave the mystery one last
thought before turning her mind back to the work at hand.
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully and it wasn't
long before Sandy was saying her goodnights. As she stepped
out of her friends air conditioned car at the Whitehall Street
entrance to the Ferry Terminal, Sandy was engulfed by the wall
of heat and humidity she stepped into.
"Please let it rain soon." She said to herself as she looked
up into the lightly clouded sky. "Or at least let the air
conditioning be back on when I get home." She substituted as
she shuddered at the thought of trying to fall asleep in this
inferno. The weekend was the only time that she was able to
sleep late, but in this heat, sleep would be next to
impossible.
Friday nights there seemed to be less people on the late
Ferry. Most people must leave early to get a jump on the
weekend. By the time Sandy dropped into her regular seat, her
blue blouse was already wet with perspiration and sticking to
her skin. Every window on the boat was wide open but even the
breeze was warm. In vain she had looked for an outside seat
but quickly found them already occupied.
Producing that day's copy of the Advance from her bag, Sandy
began to read. Absorbed in her reading, she didn't immediately
notice that someone had sat down directly opposite her. This
was unusual enough as the interior cabin of the boat was
almost ninety percent empty, most of the passengers choosing
to sit outside. As she turned the page she became aware of the
other person. When she lowered the paper to take a look, it
was all Sandy could do not to drop the paper in surprise.
Sitting not four feet away, was Sandy's mystery woman.
Sandy's mouth hung open as she took in the image before her.
Gone were the professional outfits, or even the blue collar
security guard's uniform. The only job description that her
current outfit could fit was that of a 42nd Street
Streetwalker.
Her hair was now a bright and curly blonde, a color so
unnatural that Sandy was sure that it was a wig. Her lips
were full and red, and the small stud earrings she had worn
on previous occasions were now replaced by wide gold hoops.
Her large 38 inch breasts were barely contained by the red
bikini top she wore. In fact, the points of her nipples were
clearly visible through the thin material. Her blue pants
were cut so short that if Sandy was sure that if she looked
closely, she would see a few loose pubic hairs sticking out of
the edges.
The woman just seemed to smile at Sandy, then ignored her
completely. Sandy tried to go back to her paper, but was
unable to stop stealing glances. With an eerie fascination,
she watched as droplets of sweat formed between the woman's
breasts and ran down her stomach and disappeared beneath the
material of her oh so short pants.
Sandy had never been attracted to other women, but couldn't
take her eyes away. She could feel a familiar wetness between
her legs and was lying to herself when she blamed it on the
humidity. The olive skinned woman just radiated sexuality, a
raw unbridled lust that hit Sandy full force. The tingling
between her legs grew so strong that Sandy wished she was
already home so she could find some relief. Instead she sat
there with her paper, trying hard not to show the arousal
sweeping within her.
The scantily clad woman just continued to smile thought out,
she knew the effect she was having on Sandy. She was now in
control of the game and found immense pleasure in hitting all
the right buttons to drive Sandy to distraction.
Finally she looked right into Sandy's bright blue eyes and
seemed to capture her soul. Her tongue glided sensuously
across her full red lips as she brought a hand up and ran her
long fingernails down the crevice between her tanned mounds.
Sandy was no longer making any attempt to disguise her
interest. Wiping the sweat from her breasts, the woman
brought her index finger up to her mouth and slowly licked it
clean.
"Any more of this and I'm going to cum right here in my
panties." Sandy thought as she watched the woman cup her
other breast with her free hand. "I can't believe I'm getting
this turned on by another woman."
Then, abruptly, the woman stopped her
caressing of her breasts and rose from her seat and headed for
the front of the boat. It was only then that Sandy realized
that they had docked and most of the people had already left.
Grabbing her bag from the floor, Sandy began to quickly follow
the woman off the boat. Her steps propelled by a strange
mixture of both fear and excitement.
Ann Douglas
Ann Douglas
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