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From: Ann Douglas <annd@pop.tiac.net>
Subject: AnnD: Sandy - FF / MF - (1/3)
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Hello once again.  As in the past, comments are both
appreciated and encouraged.  Suggestions are also
welcome. Please respond by E-Mail as it makes it
easier for me to get your reaction.   One  thing I do
ask is that you now include your first name and age
in  your comments.  It gives me a better idea who my
audience is.

	           -SANDY-
                       	by Ann Douglas
                        Part 1

	"Hold the door!"  Sandy yelled as she
sprinted the last twenty feet to the rapidly closing
door of the Ferry's waiting area..
	With only a half foot to spare, the blonde
made it through, much to the disappointment of the
deck hand who got his kicks closing the door in
people's faces. Had she missed it, it would be a long
hour's wait until the next Ferry at 1:30 AM. No
sooner had she cleared the boarding  ramp when it
began to rise, freeing the Staten Island Ferryboat
Alice Austin to begin her journey across New York
Harbor.
	Taking the late night boat was only one of the
problems Sandy Carradine had encountered since
going on her firms four to twelve shift about five
weeks before. Over a month and she still couldn't get
into sleeping during the day. In fact, the fact that the
school bus for the local Junior High School was
located right in front of her small apartment house
guaranteed that she would wake up to the sound of
two dozen teenagers beneath her bedroom window
every morning at 7:00.
	Dropping her large carrybag onto one of the
hard plastic seats, Sandy dropped exhausted into
another. It had been another hot and humid August
day and the night had brought little relief.  The small
Ferry was pretty empty this time of night, relatively
speaking. At least it was a far cry was the two
thousand or so who took the early morning Ferry
ride she had been used to.
	"Damn Betty Palmer for getting pregnant!"
Sandy said under her breath. "It's her fault that I'm on
this stupid shift again."
	Six weeks ago, Sandy had been summoned to
her supervisor's office and told that since Betty was
taking early maternity leave, she would have to
replace her as the night shift supervisor.  The twenty
five year old had protested that she had only come
off the night shift six months before. Therefore  it
wasn't fair that she be sent back.  That if anything,
Steve Liebowitz, the new intern who would
eventually replace Betty on nights when her four
month tour was over, should just take over a little
early.
	The reply that she had gotten was that with
Betty's sudden departure, they felt it would be better
to have an experienced  hand at the helm so to speak.
Liebowitz just wasn't ready for all that responsibility.
Fighting back her anger, Sandy had to resist the
sudden urge she had to tell them what she would like
to do with her experienced hand.
	So for the last month, Sandy had rearranged
her life to fit the new work schedule. With a few
bumps along the way, she had finally settled into a
more or less even routine. The only really great
problem now was her boyfriend, Peter Ryan.
	Sandy had been dating Peter for about three
months.  They had met through  Jim Anderson, a
mutual friend, at a birthday  party for his wife. Sandy
was instantly taken by his rugged good looks and
electric personality.  Six years older, Peter had
looked into her deep blue eyes and asked her out less
than five minutes after they'd been introduced. When
they had gone out to dinner a few nights later, it took
all the former Catholic High School girl's self control,
not to jump into bed with him at the very first
opportunity. Instead she congratulated herself on her
self-control and jumped into the sack on their second
date.
	That was where their newfound relationship
hit it's first speedbump. Peter Ryan may have been,
tall, handsome, athletic, and incredibly charming, but
astonishingly as it seemed, the man was absolutely
boring in bed. Never in her life had Sandy spent the
night with a lover so unimaginative.  Oh,  he wasn't a
virgin, and he did manage to get the job done. Yet
she sometimes wondered of his previous lovers had
been some kind of cross between  Mary Poppins and
Snow White. Whenever she had suggested they try
something a little interesting to spice up the night a
little, he quickly backed off the idea. One night he
had freaked when she had slid her cum-lubricated
finger into his ass during a round of some pretty
serious screwing. He nearly jumped out of bed and
yelled at her for even trying such a thing. That was
something that only "faggot's" did he had insisted.
Try as she could, she'd been unable to regain his
interest or erection that night.
	Now it had been almost three weeks since
they had slept together and Sandy couldn't wait until
Saturday night. That was the only day of the week
they could still see each other, and Peter had
canceled out the last two weekends due to sudden
emergencies.  He made no secret of the fact that he
was totally unhappy with the new arrangements, and
Sandy wondered if he had canceled their last two
dates just out of spite. She remembered the anger in
his voice when he had told her when she talked to
him last.
 	"It's not my fault that we only have one night
a week that we can go out. If you want to spend
more time together than you'll just have to find a way
to make the time."
	Sandy had been incredibly angry as she
slammed down the phone.  What did he expect her to
do --- quit her job?

	Pushing the angry memory to the back of her
mind, Sandy began to look about the small cabin and
take note of her fellow passengers.  It was a little
game she sometimes played, a way to kill time on the
twenty minute ride when she didn't feel like reading.
She would pick out a person at random, and try to
make up a story about their sex life. It was a silly
game really, but it was fun sometimes. Of course,
during the daytime she had a lot more interesting
people to choose from.
	Her selection finally narrowed down to an
cleaning lady who looked like those old Russian
woman you always saw in the movies and a tall
Hispanic  woman in a crisp white nurse's uniform.
Feeling a little naughty in her imagination tonight, it
had after all been so long since she'd be laid - she
picked the nurse.
	The woman looked to be about twenty-two
or three , with olive skin. Her hair was a soft reddish
brown, highlighted with gold.  The buttons of her
starched uniform were opened exceeding low,
revealing a more than ample bosom.  Sandy
wondered if she normally wore it that way or had just
opened it due to the dreadful heat.   Following her
gaze downward, Sandy noted the long slender legs
the seemed to go on and on. It was hard to judge her
height from a sitting position, but Sandy guessed it to
be about five foot nine.
	She must work at a hospital, Sandy thought,
or be a private nurse who covers a late shift for
someone.  A wicked smile came to the office
manager's face as she imagined the nurse giving some
dirty old man some tender loving care.  She tried to
imagine the body under the starched whites,
wondering how she made love to a man. Was it any
different?  There had  been three Puerto Rican  girls
in her high school class but Sandy hadn't been friends
with any of them. There were a number of Hispanic
men and women who worked for the firm, four on
her night shift alone. But Sandy had always had to
deal with them in a supervisor/employee role and
such a relationship didn't easily lend to friendship.
	Eventually, the boat docked at Saint George
and  Sandy followed the small crowd through the
terminal to catch the next train southward.  She'd
passed the Nurse on the way out but didn't give her a
second glance. After all, the game was over and she
had to be sure and not miss her ride. Like the Ferry,
the SIRT only ran once an hour after midnight. If she
had noticed the woman in white, she'd have seen the
small smile on her red lips.  Sandy's little game hadn't
gone unnoticed.


	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.


	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.


	Following the last of the crowd into the St.
George Terminal, Sandy could see people ahead of
her make the right turn that led to the train and the
various buses. To her surprise, the object of her
interest turned instead to the left and disappeared
into a closed off accessway.
	For a long minute, Sandy stood at the
junction as the last of the other passengers
disappeared from sight ahead of her. Finally
overwhelmed with curiosity, she carefully began to
follow the "streetwalker" down the corridor.
	About thirty yards  down, the causeway again
branched off to the left and Sandy stopped dead at
the corner.  As she peeked around the wall's edge,
she had to bit down on her lip to keep from making a
sound. There, about  ten feet away, stood  one of the
deckhands from the Ferry she had just exited.  His
back was to her so she couldn't see his face. What
she could see all too clearly was the mystery lady
from the Ferry on her knees in front of the man.  Her
position and the motion of her head couldn't be
mistaken for any activity other the obvious.
	From her vantage point, Sandy could tell that
the dark clad man was already near to climax. He
was either incredibly horny or she was one talented
cocksucker to bring him off so quickly.  Sure
enough, Sandy heard a loud gasp from the man as he
exploded into the woman's mouth.  Sandy watched
for a few more seconds as the tall hooker, she
couldn't think of her any other way right now,
withdrew his cum covered cock from her mouth and
proceeded to lick him clean.
	Suddenly aware that she could be caught,
Sandy began to quickly and quietly retrace her steps.
She'd gotten halfway down the dimly lit corridor
when she heard the man turning the corner.  Quickly
she ducked into a small doorway covered in shadow.
She held her breath as she watched him pass.  no
sooner did he turn the corner, Sandy heard the
hooker's footsteps coming from behind her.  Again
trying to blend into the darkness, Sandy waited until
she had been passed by.
	The hooker stopped abruptly, just out of
Sandy's line of sight.  Sandy's heart was racing like a
triphammer as she heard the soft footsteps suddenly
stop.
	"I hope you enjoyed the show."  The hooker
suddenly said.
	"Oh God, she knows I'm here!"  Sandy cried
out in her mind.
	"Come on out, I don't bite."  The Puerto
Rican woman said. "Unless of course you're into that
sort of thing."
	Stepping out of the shadows, Sandy blushed
bright red with embarrassment.
	"I figured you'd follow."  The tall woman
continued.  "I could see how hot you were getting
back on the boat."
	Before Sandy could answer, the woman
stepped forward and slid her hand under Sandy's skirt
and into her panties.
	"I knew it,"  She exclaimed. "You're dripping
wet."
	The sudden thrill as she felt this strange hand
caress her pussy caused Sandy to freeze in her tracks.
Again the potent combination of fear and excitement
took hold of her body.  Before she could respond to
the surge of mixed emotions, the hooker pressed her
against the cool tile wall.  Opening her mouth to
protest, Sandy felt the softness of another woman's
lips pressed against her own for the first time in her
life.  This was immediately followed by the wetness
of a tongue as it invaded her mouth.  The taste was
tangy and familiar, and it took a second for Sandy to
comprehend  that what she was tasting was the last
traces of the deckhand's cum.
	Drawing her attention away from the erotic
kiss was the sudden penetration of her wet mound by
one of the woman's long slender fingers.  With a
rapid motion, she slid first one, then a second, deep
into Sandy. Then she withdrew them as quickly as
they had entered, only to quickly replace them.
	The frantic friction against her clit sent ripples
though her body.  She barely noticed the soft caress
of the woman's tongue which had now moved to her
neck.  It wasn't until she felt a sudden tweak of pain
that she became aware  that the woman's other hand
had slid beneath her blouse and now cupped one of
her naked breasts.  All that she cared about was the
rising crest that was building between her legs and
the eruption it foretold.
	Then, barely a few minutes after she had
started, the mystery woman felt Sandy's body quiver,
then tremble as she slipped over the crest into a
powerful orgasm.  Pulling Sandy tight against her,
she kissed her once again, this time finding no
resistance to her tongue.  Her fingers buried
themselves deep within her as she squeezed hard on
her soft white breast.
	Sandy lost all sensation of time as she
dropped into a bottomless pool of delight.  All she
cared about at that moment was that she wished that
it would never end. That this incredible feeling had
been initiated by another woman was the furthest
concern in her mind.
	But eventually it did end and Sandy's
attention returned back to her situation.  The woman
withdrew her fingers from within Sandy and from
under her blouse.  She stepped back and took a good
look at Sandy's now disorganized appearance.  Her
blouse was now hanging open, with one breast
exposed.  Bright red lipstick marks covered her
mouth and neck.  While her blue skirt now covered
the cum soaked panties, the strong fragrance of
girlcum told the tale.
	"I knew you'd get into this."  The hooker
said. "I saw you checking me out the other night
when I had that nurse outfit on. After I saw you
search the boat for me last night I knew that you'd
follow me tonight."
	"You were on the boat yesterday?"  Sandy
gasped as she tried to control her breathing.  "But I
looked everywhere."
	"No, you only check were passenger's are
supposed to go. I was nice and cool in the crew's
cabin. It's amazing what a little promise of a blow job
can get you."
	Sandy then realized that it was the delivery of
that promise that she had witnessed.  Even now she
found it exciting. More so was the idea that she had
cum at the hands of another woman.
	Sandy watched in erotic fascination as the
woman brought her cum covered fingers to her
mouth and licked them clean, just as she had licked
the deckhand's cock.
	"Mmmm."  She purred. "I figured a fine lady
like yourself would have a good taste."
	Reaching into her small purse, the woman
withdrew a small card and slid it into the straps of
Sandy's exposed bra.  She leaned forward and kissed
her again, this time it was lightly and quick.
	"If you ever want to find out what it would
really be like, give me a call."  She said with a smile.
"In fact, for a pretty white girl like you, I'd do it for
free."




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