Role Playing with Michelle Ch. 03

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An Ohio girl in New York trouble.
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 04/07/2018
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I decided to put the third chapter of this series in the non-consent category although the non-consent is part of a game. The timeline goes backwards here to the fall of the previous year (1974). The protagonists are the City College of New York students from the first two chapters.

Michelle is about five-foot seven and she has straight brown shoulder-length hair. She wears steel-rimmed glasses. Andrea has been mentioned in several stories but has not been depicted yet. I will do that eventually.

This should be fun

It was fortunate that my girlfriend, Michelle Ann Hanley, was more ambitious than I was when it came to paid work. By the time she was nineteen, even while attending City College full-time, she had a job at a Manhattan typesetting company as a paste-up artist and typographer. Thus she could afford a Queens apartment and a car which greatly helped our personal lives. Eventually, with a little prodding from her, I got a job there too.

I had only known Michelle a little over a month when she concocted a very elaborate role playing scheme for the two of us. We were in her apartment one evening in early November 1974 when she described the scenario. I had never participated in or even heard of these activities before.

Over time I would find out that Michelle and other women seemed to have real talents for creating and executing these roles. In contrast my contributions tended to be a bit on the skimpy side. Sometimes I speculated that girls had learned this through playing with their Barbie and Ken dolls and other toys, and then they were able to do something similar later in life with real people.

I remembered that Barbie had a pink sports car that even Ken couldn't drive. Michelle used her own vehicle - a 1971 Dodge Coronet - for a couple of memorable scenes.

In this case she had invented a character named Sherri who like her was a college sophomore but this person had grown up and now went to school in Ohio.

"There are a couple of major differences from what I'm like," she said. "One is that she is still a virgin. The second is that she is a major tease."

"A tease?"

"To be more exact, a cock tease. She hints at putting out a lot more than she delivers."

The plot would be that Sherri was arriving in New York to visit her older sister, a student at New York University, and somehow she got stranded one evening at the Port Authority Bus Terminal in Manhattan. My character was "Bob," probably about thirty or so, and I would be her "white knight" who offered to help her out of her jam.

"Bob looks like a regular guy, but he's not above being a bit sleazy," Michelle said. "I mean like pressuring her, trying to take advantage of her."

"What girl would be naive enough to go with some guy at the Port Authority? I don't even talk to anyone when I'm in there."

"She's naive all right. But she needs to get to her sister's home in Queens, and you offer her a lift."

That's where the Dodge Coronet would come into play. Beforehand I would drive into the city and park it in the rooftop garage of the bus terminal. Then I would go downstairs and "run into" Sherri/Michelle.

Michelle gave me further instructions. On the drive back to Queens I would get increasingly - forward, "fresh" - with my young passenger until I found some lonely place to park with her.

I asked, "So how far do I push this thing?"

"As far as you can."

"But won't this, ah Sherri, be resisting me?"

"Yes, but maybe she has some vulnerabilities you can exploit."

"So I'm in effect I'm trying force myself on her?"

"Maybe yes and maybe no. We don't really have a script for this. We'll improvise as we go along." I didn't yet realize that Michelle usually had planned some options for these games, options I didn't know about.

I said, "This is supposed to be fun? It seems like a pretty dubious idea."

"It will be interesting - just go with the flow, you'll get into it."

"You said you've done this kind of thing before?" With whom I wondered.

"Yes, but not on this scale. I think I may outdo myself this time."

The girl from Maple Heights

We started out at her Long Island City place one evening just after dark. I drove off to give her enough time to change into her "costume" for this event; then she took a cab into the city. By the prearranged time I had parked upstairs and went through an area near the ticket windows on the first floor. This location had been agreed upon in advance.

I had a surge of excitement when I spotted her. Maybe that was because I didn't know exactly how she would be playing this role. She was wearing various items that I had seen before but never put together in this particular way. She had a green and white striped blouse, a colorful short skirt, an unbuttoned tan raincoat, white sneakers, and white socks. Her glasses were on.

There was one unfamiliar item. She was wearing a straw hat with a band around it. It made a look more innocent than the Michelle I knew. Part of that impression, I saw, may have been simply acting ability - she held herself differently, she looked around the station with an air of excitement and nervousness. There was a big battered brown plastic suitcase on the floor next to her.

I felt an expansive feeling; here she was, my girl Michelle, a good catch for a guy like me who had nobody just a few months ago. Then I had a pang of guilt when as I thought of my other girlfriend Andrea, whom I assumed knew nothing about this. I put that out of my mind as I strolled close to "Sherri" and caught her eye. She said, "Oh, mister, could you help me out? I just got into town and I'm supposed to be staying with my sister in Queens."

"Sure, what can I do?" Well, any hardened New Yorker might be inclined to help a girl this cute.

"You see, I was going to take the subway out to her house, but now that I'm here I think it would be better to take a cab - this suitcase and all - I was wondering if I could borrow money for one. I promise to pay you back."

The white knight with the dark heart came through, "I can do better. My car is parked upstairs; I'll give you a lift."

"Really, that would be super." Michelle never used that word. "I wouldn't be taking you out of your way, would I?"

"Nah, not at all." Did I just happen to be heading towards Queens? Why was I even at the station in the first place? This scene had the implausibility of a porn movie plot, which in effect in was.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Sherri." She actually took my hand and shook it. "The full name is Sherilynn but nobody calls me that."

"Well you can call me Bob." That came out wrong, but it didn't interrupt the flow. I hefted the suitcase, expecting it to be an empty prop, and was surprised to find how heavy it was. She said, "Well I need a lot of stuff for a week here."

On the escalators up to the roof she told me she was from Maple Heights, Ohio, that she was a sophomore at Ohio State University at Columbus, and she was a cheerleader for the football team. The last was a good touch, because Michelle was definitely not cheerleader material. It wasn't her looks, rather it was that the idea of it would make her gag.

I was struck again by her acting abilities. She really seemed to have the spirit and mannerisms of this Sherri person.

As we got to the car - Michelle's recently acquired green Dodge - I asked her the usual student question, "What is your major?" She was studying to be a pharmacist. I thought, this girl, unlike Michelle and me and virtually everyone we knew, might actually get a job after graduation.

After we were in the car and I had it started I said, "Ever been to New York before?"

"Once, five years ago, with my parents."

"You know it's not safe for a young girl to go around the city in the evening by herself - and with luggage yet."

"I know - that's why I'm so grateful to you."

"Did you father know what you were doing - not having money for a cab?"

"I guess I lied to him. I didn't want him to think I was a helpless little girl."

I thought it was time to start revealing some of Bob's unsavory side. "That was still wrong. You're not too old for him to give you a good spanking." Bob must have assumed, being all of thirty-years old, that he could offer some avuncular opinions here. Michelle stayed in character. She frowned at me over the rims of her glasses but otherwise didn't acknowledge my comment.

I said, "Anyway, unless you're in a big hurry, let's take a little drive around town."

"That's great; let's see Times Square." I drove down the ramp and was soon headed east on 42nd Street.

She said, "There sure are a lot of porno theaters here."

"This is only some of them; you should see Eighth Avenue."

"Could we go there?"

I had to go around the block to double-back to Eighth. She gaped at the scene as if she had never seen it before.

"Do they really have live sex in these places?"

"I suppose so, I've never been in one."

"Are there streetwalkers around here?"

"Yeah, they're most visible further west, but they're here too."

After about fifteen more minutes of aimless cruising around, I headed for the 59th Street Bridge. Sherri was a bit vague about where we were going, merely saying "Elmhurst." She talked quite readily about life in Maple Heights and then Columbus and what it was like being a student at OSU. I wondered if Michelle had ever been in either place.

At the first light after the bridge I thought it was time to make some moves. "So what is the name of the football team there?"

"Silly, it's the Buckeyes, everyone know that."

I dared say, "Sherri, when you're doing your cheerleader routines, do you like showing your panties to the crowd?"

"I don't think that is the point, Bob."

"Well I know as a member of the crowd I like seeing the panties. I mean, usually when watching college games on TV that is. What color are the ones on your team?"

"Red, if you must know."

I continued, "Do you ever fantasize about doing cheerleading and not wearing panties?" I was thinking about the National Lampoon yearbook parody that had been published that year

"No I've never thought that." She sounded haughty, offended.

"I bet you have. Sometimes nice girls like you are very naughty. Maybe you're not wearing underpants right now."

"I certainly am wearing them."

I was surprised when she raised her skirt and gave me a flash. Her panties were white, skimpy and sheer. I caught an outline of pubic hair through them. I thought I knew Michelle's supply of underwear pretty well by then but these didn't look familiar.

So Sherri wasn't so offended that she couldn't put on her tease act. I said, "Do you have a boyfriend in Ohio? Do you let him do things to you, feel you up?"

"Bob, we shouldn't be talking about these things, but, ok I'll tell you this much - I let him touch my breasts sometimes. Nothing below the waist." She was claiming to be virtuous, in a way, and she wanted to boast about it too.

"You should at least give him a handjob to relieve him."

"If he needs release, he does that by himself. After all, he's got two hands." I had heard that expression somewhere before.

"So you've never seen a man come. You should, you might be impressed."

By this point, instead of heading for Elmhurst, I was driving around Long Island City. I saw a side street off Jackson Avenue that led to the Long Island Rail Road tracks. There were several such streets running parallel to each other and I knew I had been down a couple of them with Andrea in her Oldsmobile.

"Why are we going down here?"

As I parked I said, "Sherri, I'm really doing you a big favor by giving you this ride. You owe me something in return."

"I do appreciate it Bob, but I didn't promise you anything."

"This is New York baby. Everything costs something."

The engine was still running as I unzipped my pants and let my fully erect cock out. "Come on honey, touch it, just a little. I'll supply the motion, just touch it a bit."

"Hey Bob, put that away."

"What's the matter, ever see the one on your boyfriend? It won't hurt you."

I turned the engine off and in a moment I put my arm around her shoulders and my face into her hair. The familiar scent of Michelle came to me.

"Hey sweetie, you're so pretty - you know that."

It seemed like an instant, but then we were grappling with each other. It didn't feel like playacting now. I was trying to push her down on the seat and get on top of her. She pushed back; she was surprisingly strong and I'm not a big guy. I heard myself saying, "Okay, little girl, you had your chance, now I'm going to bust you, I'm going to bust your cheerleader pussy right here whether you like it or not."

I got my hand under her skirt and began yanking her panties off. She suddenly relaxed. "All right Bob, take it easy, I'll help you, ok?" She was half under me when she reached a hand towards my crotch. I thought, hey my fantasy of banging this cheerleader with the straw hat was about to happen. I had to give Michelle credit for coming up with a great scenario.

That's not what happened at all. She made a fist, swung it up, and popped me right in the balls. It wasn't a really strong blow, it was comparable to getting hit with a softball, which had happened in my inept attempts to play the game. It was certainly enough to get my mind on other things.

I struggled upright. "You bitch, you really hurt me." I had never called Andrea or Michelle that before; this was aimed at Sherri.

"You asked for it Bob. You try anything else and I'll get your license plate; I'm going to get it anyway."

I was trying to recover and didn't have a response. She said, "Don't bother taking me to Elmhurst. Drop me where I can get a cab."

"Sure, just give me a moment here."

It took more than a moment, but I got the car going and headed into Astoria. I stopped at Steinway Street where it was easy to hail a taxi. I offered her a ten dollar bill for cab fare and also as penance. I struggled with her bulky suitcase as I took it from the trunk and then had to do it again with the taxi.

Just as I closed the trunk lid, I said, "Hey, no hard feelings, let's exchange phone numbers, start over."

"Fuck off, asshole." She got in and slammed the door.

That hurt more than the ball-popping. She seemed genuinely angry. I was used to Michelle's sassy sense of humor but she had never been nasty to me before.

I then drove around Queens for about thirty minutes. My balls stopped aching but I was in a foul mood. I was quite angry, but at who, Sherri or Michelle? I was sexually jazzed as well; I thought of her panties giving way as I pulled them. Jesus, had I really been thinking of raping her? "Whether you like it not." I had been prepared to penetrate her right there in the front seat.

It was worth the pain

I got back to Long Island City and rang her bell. She came to the door wearing the same clothes, including the hat but minus the raincoat. "Paul, where have you been?" She threw herself around me and began kissing me. I felt relieved to have my generous Michelle back.

Once inside I asked, "You're not angry at me, are you?"

"Of course not. You did a great job; you were so convincing!"

She sat down on the sofa and patted it to indicate I should do so too. She poured glasses of wine for both of us. She must have noticed something about my expression; she said, "You really disliked Sherri; I didn't care much for her either."

"And Bob was no winner. I thought this would be more fun than it actually was."

"The point of role-playing is to explore, find out things about people they don't usually show. I've got a couple more scenarios we might try."

"You - you punched me in the nuts."

She shrugged, "Yes but not too hard. It's an anti-rape technique perhaps - if you can get a hand or a knee in there, wham-bam-goodbye ma'am. Well, it might be too risky if you actually have a gun to your head."

I said, "That Sherri really was a tease. She wanted to cruise porno theaters. 'Do they really have live sex in there?' "

"Bob was a creep too. He planned it out during the trip from the bus station."

"But neither one of us is those people."

"It doesn't matter, we made them up."

I said, "Maybe you should take acting classes. You seem to have a knack for it. I really thought this Sherri person was real somehow."

"How are doing now? You seem tense. I would have to guess it's a combination of anger and sexual frustration." I didn't want to answer because her assessment was so accurate. Some of my feelings about Sherri and Michelle were mixed together. And I don't think I had ever been truly angry at Michelle.

She leaned back on the sofa, spread her legs, and raised her skirt. "Would you like to finish what you started?"

"And who are you going to be, Michelle or Sherri?"

"Who would you like me to be?"

"How about a little of both? Just keep that hat on."

"Of course, that's fine."

I pounced on her and quickly pulled her underpants off. My hand roamed her crotch, a little roughly, and I stuck two fingers into her. She was already quite damp. "You little tease, you're already creaming yourself." I undid my pants and released by cock. "There is it, every man wants to put it to every cheerleader's cunt. Rah-rah my ass."

She laughed at that. She was also squirming as I fingered her. Andrea seemed to need a lot of warm up, but Michelle was sometimes happy to take a cock right out of the box. This seemed to be one of those times. I slipped a hand under her buttocks and lifted her up from the couch. A moment later I was rapidly thrusting into her. "So Miss Ohio State of 1974, if they could only see you now." She laughed again, but after that she made a lot of noise so I didn't hear any words.

I knew when Michelle really liked it because of what she did with her legs; they were all over the place. Sometimes she spread them wide, other times she gripped them around my body. I felt her sneakers rubbing on my back; her hands were inside my shirt and pulling down the back of my pants. When she came she lifted off the cushion and yelled. I said as matter-of-factly as I could, "Should I come in you?' and she answered, "Please, dear God, do it."

For a while I lay there, murmuring "Michelle, you're great, I love you" and she answered "I love you too." After I was more relaxed I thought for a moment and said, "I'm not a rapist, I'm I?"

"No, of course not, but you know how to play one."

"I was going to rape Sherri, that girl I just met, right there in the car."

"Are you having trouble with that?"

"I wish I didn't know I could do it."

"Don't worry too much about it. That's what role playing does, it allows for exploration of personality - whatever may come up."

I thought about that. Michelle said, "You know, as I said I have a couple of other ideas we should try out."

"Hey, what is in that suitcase? It weighed a ton."

"I stuffed it with books; it seemed more realistic." She was a stickler for details.

"And another thing; have you ever been to Maple Heights?"

"It's some suburb of Cleveland, I found it in an atlas."

"So do the cheerleaders at Ohio State have red pants?"

"Damned if I know."

I said, "The thing about cheerleaders . . ." The word "retro" wasn't in common use yet and the term "politically incorrect" hadn't been invented.

I came up with, "It's so unhip, maybe that's it." However, I knew that even City College, which hadn't had a football team in decades and had long been a leftist stronghold, had cheerleaders for the basketball team.

Michelle said, "Yet guys still love them and there is no shortage of girls willing to be them. If you like, I could probably find somewhere to rent a cheerleader outfit."

I couldn't help it, I liked the idea. "With pom-poms too?"

"What would a cheerleader be without pom-poms?"

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