Jo, T-Girl Goddess! Ch. 02

The rest of the money had been mostly swallowed up by Jo's £3,500 overdraft, but now, for the first time in years Jo's current account consistently showed a credit balance.

Emmanuel had praised her for putting the money to such sensible use.

She nearly hadn't.

After recovering from the shock of Ricki's gift, Jo had logged on to Selfridges online to ensure that the black Alexander McQueen Dredge Skull Sandals that she wanted were in stock in her size.

She had then noticed another three must-have pairs by the same designer including a pair of ballet pumps for £325.

She had then needed a dress or six to go with the shoes, especially the red V-neck maxi that literally had her name written all over it.

And then thinking that a girl must have handbags to compliment any outfit, she found that she couldn't choose between five of the eight bags by yes, the same designer.

It was like he made things with her in mind.

She could walk past Prada, Gucci and other such big name, but Alexander's stuff stopped her dead in her tracks.

She had cried buckets when she heard that he had committed suicide, her first thought being who was going to dress her when she became rich and famous, or won the lottery.

She had placed one last item in the online shopping basket, a dinky gold skull ring that would go fabulously with the skull shoes, and had proceeded to checkout.

Not that she'd intended buying them online, of course--one had to try before one bought--but to have them totalled so she knew a ball park figure.

The total, twelve thousand, four hundred and fifty-five pounds, had brought her back to her senses.

She'd been once again standing on the edge of financial oppression--she could jump and hope that she had wings, or she could step back and be safe.

For so many years she had hoped and prayed for the chance to wipe away her debt and start afresh.

Ricki had given her a once-in-a-lifetime chance...and Jo had realized that she couldn't waste it

She had dressed, left the house and put it all in Emmanuel's safe hands.

Jo had always sensed that he still felt a little guilty for dropping her so abruptly when he'd met Natalie, especially since Jo had been almost a virgin before she had started the threesome games with him and Ricki.

She'd never thought of Emmanuel as being hers exclusively since she'd always shared him with Ricki, but she been a little devastated at being dropped.

She still missed him and the thought of her first time with him still gave her goose bumps.

She was now like a daughter to him, but if not for Natalie, Jo wouldn't be opposed to giving her 'daddy' some ass any day of the week.

Or minute of the day for that matter.

"So, how was he?" Emmanuel teased, bringing Jo a fresh Piña Colada as the rush at the bar abated.

"He?" Jo responded, pretending that she had no idea whom Emmanuel meant.

She didn't know how he did it, but he seemed to know everything that went on in his bar.

He had been talking to a Lib Dem MP, a regular at the bar, when Jo had slipped away the previous night. She had tried unsuccessfully to catch his eye to let him know that she was leaving but he'd seemed too engrossed in conversation to notice her.

"Alan," Emmanuel supplied.

"You know him?" she asked in surprise.

"He's been here once or twice before."

"I've never seen him before last night."

"Simone was laughing her head off when you two left together. She said that she hoped he didn't pretend to be a virgin again."

"A virgin?" Jo repeated blankly.

"Apparently he's married and lives in Chelsea. Simone said that she fucked him in the gents right here one night--I, of course, told her off for lowering the tone of my establishment--and was bragging about it with a couple of friends a few weeks later when one of them said that Alan had been fucked by all the transgender men in the bars of Chelsea and Kensington, so now he had to come slumming in the East End."

"The sneaky bastard!" Jo laughed.

Alan had managed to fool her, though there had been moments when she'd wondered if he was more experienced than he'd pretended to be.

She hadn't planned on seeing him again. As a one-off he had been fun, but she had been relieved that he hadn't asked for her number or a repeat ass-fucking because he really wasn't her type.

But, if she'd suspected that he'd lied, she would have taken the greatest pleasure in ramming her hard girldick into his ass until it was so sore he would beg her to stop.

Perhaps not, she acknowledged ruefully, but she would have definitely fucked him without restraint, knowing that his 'virginal' ass had been plundered by several girldicks before hers.

*****

The End

Jo's next adventure finds her and her friend, Trisha, running for their lives, pursued by a muscle-bound bully who doesn't appreciate Trisha's little 't-girl' surprise. After Jo sorts out Trisha's problem, she decides to fly to Barbados to see Ricki and have some Fun in the Sun!

Jo blinked as she walked out the dimness of Fire nightclub and onto brightly-lit South Lambeth Road.

It was five thirty in the morning and she'd had a blast.

But, the club hadn't felt quite the same without Ricki.

They had gone to the club together for years, not as often as they would have liked because Norman had kept Ricki on a tight leash, but whenever they had had the chance they had torn the place up, whether it was a house or a gay night.

It was way, way out of the way for two East End girls, but the club, regarded by most as a cult classic, was as addictive as a drug. To avoid being hit upon by anyone else she and Ricki had danced with each other all night and no one seeing them would have believed that they weren't a couple.

They had behaved outrageously and no doubt several of the men, if they hadn't been lucky enough to pull someone that night, would have gone home with bursting cocks and pairs of very blue balls.

Since Ricki had left for Barbados several months ago, Jo had felt the need to come back to the club and enjoy its unique atmosphere and music...and hopefully miss Ricki a little less.

It had worked for several hours as she had gyrated among the regulars and had more fun than she'd had in a while.

But moments ago, the DJ had played one of Ricki's favourite songs and the emptiness inside Jo had threatened to overwhelm her.

Missing Ricki with a sudden, stomach-clenching intensity, she had needed to get away from the noise and the crowd immediately.

It had been better than staying at home, she conceded, as she filled her lungs with the crisp morning air.

She was glad she had made the effort to come, but she would never come again.

Not alone, certainly.

Now tired and hungry, she needed her comfy, king-sized bed and needed it right now.

When she had left home earlier she had intended to leave the club at six in the morning and take the Tube from Vauxhall Station, returning home the way she had come.

She had a valid monthly Zone 1-4 Travelcard in her purse and wouldn't pay a penny if she went home that way.

A cab from here to her Wanstead flat would cost her nearly £50, including the tip.

Having freed herself from under the burden of debt with Ricki's generous and totally unexpected £50,000 gift, Jo had vowed never to let herself be trapped again. She hadn't realized how much having a huge debt had affected her, until she'd paid it off and felt a weight magically lift off her shoulders.

She was trying to be sensible, trying to live within her means and not spend money unnecessarily.

But the idea of sitting in the back of a warm cab, dozing lightly, as the driver took her straight to her front door was so appealing.

Night buses, filled with drunken club goers, wouldn't be as comfortable, though they wouldn't cost her anything.

But she would have to change buses at Trafalgar Square and there would be no guarantee that the bus that would take her two corners from her flat would come before she froze to death.

She would be sensible, she decided...but not this morning.

Soon I'll be home and in my warm bed, she thought blissfully as she lengthened her stride and headed towards the nearest cab office.

Turning the next corner sharply, she narrowly avoided the punch the burly man in a rage threw at his cowering girlfriend.

Hell no!

Jo didn't even think twice before wading in and kneeing the man in the groin before he realized her intention.

As he went down clutching his pulverized balls, Jo grabbed his girlfriend's hand and made a dash for the N87 that had stopped at the nearby stop.

The bus was heading in the direction opposite to the one Jo needed, but getting out of the immediate vicinity was her main priority; she would worry about finding her way home once she had put some distance between her and the woman, and the raging man.

She let the woman proceed her into the bus and stood in the doorway, nervously flexing her thigh muscles as the man's girlfriend rummaged through her small bag.

"Do you need the fare?" she asked the woman helpfully, trying to curb her impatience.

How could the woman possibly have lost anything in such a tiny bag?

"No, I have a Travelcard," the woman replied, glancing fearfully over her shoulder instead of into her bag.

"If you have a pass, go on then, love," the kindly bus driver told the woman.

"Thank you."

Jo touched her Travelcard to the Oyster card reader and threw the driver a grateful, relieved smile as he closed the doors and pulled away from the bus stop.

Just as the woman's boyfriend managed to get to his feet and started stumbling slowly towards the bus.

He stopped, cupped his crotch and dropped to his knees again when he realized it was moving off....