86th and Park

She had not been prepared for this; she had never been with a woman who gushed before, so she managed to drink only some of her juices. The rest dribbled down her chin. She felt like she'd been baptized.

Jane pulled her up close, and they lay for a while in each other's arms. Then Jane said, "Let's get dressed and go home. You'll be spending the night with me."

E I G H T

The warm, tangy juices bathed the back of her throat. Sandy gladly drank down all of Jane's offering. She had gotten the hang of her gushing orgasms by now. Nothing dribbled down her chin anymore. She continued to lick her pussy till Jane put a hand on her head. That was the sign to stop. Jane's amazing, she thought. She's on an important conference call, she has a huge orgasm and she doesn't even lose her concentration. Her voice, her breathing don't even change. Amazing.

She crawled backwards to get out from under the desk. They had been playing the game Jane had introduced her to on her very first day of work, on Monday. Jane called it "Bill and Monica," and they had played it at least once each day since then. Today was Thursday, her fourth day. Jane had even bought a box of cigars and twice had used one on her or made her use it on herself.

She stood and straightened her skirt and blouse. She jerked her head at the main office door, silently asking if she should unlock it. Jane nodded, then smiled and blew her a kiss. After unlocking that door she walked back to the door at the right rear of the office that opened on a short hallway, lined with file cabinets, that led to the office's private bathroom. Just on the other side of the door, on the right, was a small alcove where her desk was situated. Jane had her typing transcriptions and correspondence, filing and proofreading. It was mindless work, but she enjoyed it. She headed to the bathroom now to brush her teeth and freshen up.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She had the odd sensation of both recognizing and not recognizing the person she saw. Jane had bought her three business suits and a half dozen blouses, dress-up clothes for a girl who never wore anything but jeans and T-shirts. She smiled at this young woman. She had been in New York for only about three weeks but already Sandy from Detroit had been molted. The future gave her pause though. She was falling in love with Jane, but Jane and Holly had been together for years, and she had promised not to enter their part of the apartment unless given permission. Nothing good can come from this. She decided to put that thought out of her mind. For the moment she was happy, and that was the important thing.

* * *

Jane had finished her conference call. She picked up the receiver again and dialed an extension. "Ah, you're there. Good. That girl I told you about, Sandy, the one who is staying with us and working for me, she's in the office today. I'd like to introduce her to you. Can you come down now? Okay, see you in a minute."

Indeed, in a minute there was a knock on the door, then Gerald McNeil walked in. "Hello, counselor," he said. "Hello yourself, counselor," she replied. He settled in what had become his customary chair, one of the two in front of her desk. They had known each other only a few weeks but had become close friends and confidants. They recognized that a strong sexual component cemented their friendship, despite her lesbianism, but it was tacitly understood that it would not be acted upon. Too many complications could ensue, one of which was the problem of his relationship with his daughter, Jessica.

Just last week he had come to Jane, desperate. He had to talk to someone about the riot of feelings he was holding inside about Jess. He was in love with her, his own daughter, insanely, passionately, undeniably in love with her. He was certain she loved him as well -- they were having an affair after all -- but he had not seen her since Valentine's Day, more than three months ago. She was away at school, at Vassar, and she had been responding to his phone calls and e-mails more and more tardily, although she had recently written that she would spend the summer at home. She was spreading her wings, asserting her independence, and as her father he had to accept that, hard as it was. She was bisexual. He knew she had both a girlfriend, Hitome, and a boyfriend, Stone, at school. He encouraged her lesbian tendencies but felt strongly jealous of Stone, or any male she might get involved with for that matter. In his heart he sensed something was wrong with Jess. Even if she needed more time on her own, it was not like her to shut him out the way she seemingly had. So between fatherly concern and an ardent lover's longing, he felt torn in two and almost utterly unable to cope.

He had thought about talking to a therapist or a clergyman but had almost immediately rejected the idea. Then Jane had entered his mind. He liked her, respected her and had intuited that she would be nonjudgmental. After all beneath her conservative exterior lay an "outlaw" sexual nature. She would understand his own outre desires.

She had shared intimate details about her relationship with Holly in their very first private conversation, something she did not have to do. She had trusted him. He could trust her as well.

And he had been right. She had listened sympathetically as he had poured his heart out to her. He had told her about his late wife, Miranda, her bisexuality and their many affairs, his decades-long interest in d/s and finally his obsession with his daughter and her bisexuality and submissiveness, how he had deflowered her on her eighteenth birthday, last October 26th, and how conflicted he felt about her. She had told him about her own interest in d/s, the sexual goings-on in her house and the arrival of Sandy. She had concluded by saying he was a good man and suggesting that he follow his heart's desire. If his love for Jessica were true, as she believed it was, however abhorrent it might be to others, then he must be guided by it. He had felt enormous relief as a result of this conversation, and from it the deep roots of their friendship had taken hold.

Jane picked up her phone now and pushed a button. "Sandy, would you come in here, please?" Almost immediately a tall, slim young woman with long straight brown hair appeared in the room. Gerald thought she was beautiful and noticed despite the slim build and loose-fitting blouse that she had large breasts. He detected sadness in her light-brown eyes, which added to her appeal. Jane has terrific taste in women, he thought. He reddened. He had almost said that aloud. He stood.

Jane said, "Gerald, I'd like to introduce you to Sandy Pokanovich. Sandy, please meet Gerald McNeil. He's a senior partner here and a very good friend."

"How do you do, Mr. McNeil." They shook hands. She thought he was a very good-looking man, tall and slim, with a nice smile and manners. His hazel eyes were a little sad. She found that touching. If Jane says he's a friend, then he must be a pretty cool guy, she thought.

"Oh, please call me Gerald. Jane tells me you're new to New York, and you don't know many people. I have a daughter, Jessica, who is about your age. She's just finishing up her first year of college and will be coming home for the summer next week. If you'd like, you and Jane can come for dinner next Friday and meet Jess. We live just down the street from you, at 72nd."

"Oh, thank you, I'd like that." She looked at Jane.

Jane said, "Yes, that would be lovely, Gerald. Holly and Helen will be spending next weekend in Provincetown getting the summer house ready, so Sandy and I will be at loose ends."

Jane and Gerald exchanged a glance. Each knew what the other was thinking. He shifted his gaze, ashamed. But excited as well. Jess and Sandy together. That was what they both wanted to see.

N I N E

"Oh, daddy, you have to stop now. You have to take me to school. Besides, you're hurting me."

"Baby, baby, just a minute. Daddy's close to shooting his hot load into your tight baby pussy."

Sandy actually came first. Her long legs were wrapped around Helen's waist, her left hand on her shoulder. She masturbated with her right hand as Helen fucked her with the huge black strapon. Helen had opened her up so much with this dildo through repeated usage that she was able to take its entire ten-inch length with ease.

She closed her eyes and saw red projected against the inside of her eyelids as Helen pounded her and her body spasmed. When she finished Helen quickly doffed the dildo and sat on her face. She came almost immediately as she licked her, crying out, "Yes, yes, yes," and slamming her palms against the wall behind the headboard.

They snuggled. They were in a phase of their lovemaking in which they role played a lot. D/s and incest were always involved, and Sandy was always submissive. Usually Helen played dad while she was daughter. Sometimes the relationship was mother/daughter, other times big sister/little sister. Helen was insatiable, wanting sex morning, noon and night, everyday. At work Jane was forcing her to masturbate at least once a day. Between her two lovers her pussy was chronically sore. But also chronically excited. She even had moments, alone, when the desire to masturbate was irresistible. Lately she had been fantasizing about men and rape while she played with herself. It had started with the cab driver, but the fantasies had quickly become more elaborate, even incorporating Gerald McNeil, whom she had just met the other day. She was becoming confused about her sexual desires and decided now to speak about what was on her mind.

"Hel, let me ask you something. I've been having weird fantasies lately. I've been fantasizing about getting raped. It's fucked up. I've been thinking about men and getting real excited and jerking off. Do you think that's weird?"

Helen stopped nuzzling her shoulder. "You're not going straight on me, are you, girl?" They laughed. She continued, more seriously, "No, I don't think anything's wrong with that. They're just fantasies." She began to caress one of Sandy's nipples.

"Something else happened. At work last week. You know Jane's assistant, Marian --"

"Know her? I've, like, had sex with her about a dozen times. She's a nasty little slut."

"Well, this is what happened. Have you been to Jane's new office?" Helen shook her head. "Well, she's got a big walk-in closet in her office. The other day she tells me she wants me to go into the closet in exactly ten minutes. I mean, I'm gonna do exactly what she tells me, right? So I watch the clock and in ten minutes I go over to the closet. I hear this cracking sound and I open the door and here's Jane spanking Marian with a paddle. Her skirt is on the floor and her writsts are handcuffed over her head and Jane is cursing her and telling her how stupid she is. Then Jane gives me the paddle and says, 'You hit her.' And I'm like, 'What?' And she says, 'You heard me.' And it's like, I'm not gonna say no to Jane, right? So I start spanking her and I'm real clumsy at first, but then I start to get into it and I start to get real turned on. I like hurting her. And I guess Jane sees this because she takes the paddle away from me and says, 'Go to your desk and masturbate.' So I did and I have this huge orgasm. So, you know, I don't know what's going on. I mean, I'm a sub. I mean, you and Jane made me who I am."

"Yeah, you're a sub with me and Jane. But that doesn't mean you can't have different kinds of relationships with different women. Or even men. Me, I can only be one way. But maybe you're more versatile. Maybe you're a switch. Anyway, don't worry about it. I mean, you don't look worried anyway."

"No, I guess I'm not worried. I just been thinking about it. I'm confused, I guess." She shifted on the bed to face Helen, propping her head up with an elbow. "Here's what I been thinking, Hel. Tell me what you think. You know, sometimes we pretend I'm your little sister. Well, I'd like to have a little sister to play with too. You could be our big sister or our mom or dad. You know what I mean?"

"Ooh, baby, that is so fucking hot." She clapped her hands once and hooted, then mirrored the way Sandy lay on the bed. She thought for a moment. "Here's what we can do. Let's go to The Duchess tonight. Maybe there'll be a girl there who can get into it. You down with that?"

"Totally."

"All right then, we got ourselves a plan. Okay, little girl, on your stomach."

* * *

It was just about ten o'clock when Helen held The Duchess' front door open for Sandy. Helen wore her standard bar-going uniform, dark blue jeans and light-blue workshirt. Sandy looked smashing. She had put makeup and glossy lipstick on and wore tight jeans, high-heeled strap-ons and a midriff-baring, too-small T-shirt. No bra of course. Now with Helen's hand in the small of her back steering her, she jiggled her way toward the lone vacant barstool, leaving turned heads and suspended conversations in their wake. She sat in the stool, and Helen stood behind her with a foot up on a rung. It was Saturday, and the place was near capacity.

On Saturdays and Sundays the bar was tended by the owner, the eponymous Duchess, Glenda Russell, who had had the place for forty years or more and who reputedly had been born into English nobility. No one knew for sure. In her seventies or eighties -- again no one knew for sure -- she was a small, wizened but energetic woman with snow-white hair and the palest blue eyes. How she was able to run a busy bar at her age was anybody's guess, but she was a legend in the local lesbian community, a symbol of gay pride. She and Helen were old pals. She stood before them now and said, in perfect Queen's English, "Hello, Helen. I haven't seen you in a while. I hope everything is well with you. And who is your lovely young friend?"

"Hi, Duchess. Everything's cool. I'd like you to meet Sandy. I met her here in fact. Sandy, this is the Duchess. Her name is Glenda, but everyone calls her Duchess. This is her place."

"Hi, Duchess. It's nice to meet you."

"It is my pleasure to meet you, Sandy. When you came in I looked up and thought an angel had descended from heaven to grace our humble establishment." She laughed merrily. "Now what can I get you ladies?"

"Oh, the usual. A couple of Rolling Rocks," said Helen.

The Duchess set their beers in front of them, then covered Sandy's hand with one of hers. "It would be lovely, dearie, if you came round to the bar again sometime to say hello to an old woman."

She smiled. "Thank you, Duchess. I will."

They drank and scanned the room for their "little sister." Their ideal girl would be young and petite, probably blonde, probably an NYU student. At first glance no one fit the bill. They ordered another round.

A few rounds later, near midnight, they decided to pack it in. At that moment though the door opened and two girls came in, a small blonde with short hair and a taller girl with long wavy black hair. The blonde was really cute. They walked straight to the back, where there were tables, a jukebox and a small area for dancing. The black-haired girl came right back to the bar. She ordered a pitcher of beer. The blonde went to the jukebox and studied what was on it. Sandy and Helen looked at one another. Helen grabbed her wallet and pulled a few singles out. She shoved them at Sandy. "Get over there and play some music." Sandy shot off her barstool.

Helen watched as Sandy stood next to the blonde, towered over her actually. She saw their heads turn together. They're talking, she thought. Sandy reached into her pocket and handed a bill to the girl, who fed the machine and punched a few buttons. The music came on, nice and loud, and the girls started moving their hips, more or less in unison.

The black-haired girl carried the pitcher and two glasses back to their table, which was out of Helen's line of vision. The blonde saw this, touched Sandy on the arm and pointed to their table. Sandy nodded, and they went over to it. Helen couldn't see anything, but then Sandy was approaching the service bar for a glass. She smiled at Helen and flashed the okay sign. She returned to the table with her glass. This is fun, thought Helen, and she turned to the Duchess for another beer.

About twenty minutes had passed when she saw Sandy and the blonde near the jukebox, dancing. They stood close together, hands on each other's hips, heads down, gazing at each other's crotch, slowly swaying. When the song was finished Sandy led the girl by the hand over to her.

"Hey, Helen, this is Allie. She goes to NYU. I told her about our big idea and she's totally into it." She doubled over in laughter. She was pretty ripped.

"Nice to meet you, Allie. That's great that you want to play, but you know, I gotta ask you. What about your friend?" She eyed Allie. Up close she was even cuter than she first thought. Great skin and teeth. A nice tight little body. Small tits. She was young.

"Oh, she's just a friend. She's cool with it. I have a girlfriend, but she's back at the dorm. She's got one more paper to finish before her semester is done. I'm all done, so I'm ready to party, woo hoo! Actually I should call her to tell her I might not be back tonight. I mean, we're together and all that, we're in love, but we give each other permission to fool around." A grin split her face as she pulled out her cell phone.

Helen said, "Let's get this party started then. Oh, taxi." She hailed an imaginary cab. They waved good-bye to the Duchess and made a beeline for the door.

* * *

Allie talked nonstop all the way to 86th and Park, even as Sandy and Helen groped her. She sat between them in the cab, and they half listened as she told them about growing up on a farm in Wisconsin, about her parents and four older siblings, about her high-school affair with her soccer coach, her first love, that taught her she was a lesbian masochist, about being the first one in her family to go to college outside of Wisconsin and finally about Renee, her girlfriend, who was Japanese-American and a domme. Helen interrupted the monologue at one point to ask how old she was. Nineteen was the reply.

In the bedroom Helen said, "You two get started. I'm gonna go to the bathroom, then get some beers. Here's the deal. I'm the mom. Sandy, you're the big sister. Allie, you're the little sister. When I get back I wanna see some action." She left the room.

Sandy said, "Take your clothes off, Sis."

"Make me," Allie shot back. So she grabbed Allie by the hair and forced her to her knees. "Take your fucking clothes off, bitch." She was so excited by what was happening her voice and knees were shaking.

"Okay, okay," said Allie. They both began to undress. When they were naked Sandy again grabbed her by the hair and rubbed Allie's shaven little-girl pussy hard with the palm of her hand. "Yeah, yeah, I like it rough, hurt me," said Allie. Sandy slapped her face and pushed her down on the bed. She jumped on her, and they began to wrestle. She wanted to rape this girl. She was much bigger and stronger and quickly forced her legs apart. She began to hump her like she had a penis.

Helen reentered with a six-pack, which she rested on a window sill. She looked over at the writhing girls. "Now that's what I'm talking about. Hot fucking lesbian sex. Which reminds me." She snatched a beer, popped the tab and began rummaging through her DVDs. She held one up. "Aha, I haven't seen this one yet." She ripped the cellophane off the cover and put the disk in the player. It was another movie in the "Slaves of Madame Sakura" series by Jon Lynch. She skipped through scenes, looking for the blonde who was listed in the credits and whose character name was Aurora. "Ah, there she is." She pushed the play button. In the scene Aurora was naked and bent at the waist with her head and arms in held in a stocks. Gravity drew her luscious breasts toward the floor. The same beautiful Asian girl was playing Madame Sakura and she was whipping Aurora's breasts mercilessly with fishing line. The camera closed in on Aurora's face, and Helen could see she was in genuine distress. She took her clothes off, sat in a chair and began to masturbate. She called over to the bed, "Hey, Sandy, Allie, check this out." The girls broke their clinch and sat up.