MISS RYN: A LIFE EVOLVING - CHAPTER 6 free porn video

CHAPTER 6

The next morning, waking up to the new day streaming into through the balcony door was different, delightfully different. The body sprawled out next to me in my bed brought back a flood of visions, sensations, and warm memories of the night before. And, more than those wonderful things from before, it brought with it promise and expectation for the future, and anticipation for perhaps the very near future. Like, yet today?

The new day’s first sunlight streamed into the room with a refreshing and gentle rush of air. I always loved these times, especially in this room. This room, with the balcony window/door open faced just the right direction for full exposure to the rising sun and the first glimpses of the new day and a promise that was sometimes very misleading. A storm coming from the west was completely hidden from view. But, I so preferred the promise of a bright day to the reality that I would soon enough realize and have to prepare for.

This morning was the same. The shears, pulled over the opening for a hint of privacy that was completely unnecessary in the isolation of the estate, billowed into the room creating a dance of sunlight that went from direct to muted as the shears moved in by the breeze. It was in that contemplative state that the body sharing my bed stirred next to me and drew my attention away from filtering light and breezes to the wonders that a naked body provides, especially when it is not yours and more especially when it is a body you have hardly begun to explore. So, I rolled to my side and pondered that opportunity presented to me.

Dori was spread out alongside me with maybe a foot between us after I turned onto my side. She was on her back, the top sheet that was our only needed cover for the night was pushed down to our feet. The warm night made any covering unnecessary, apparently, for both of us. I smiled at that. I knew nothing of Dori’s habits in such regards, this being the first time we had shared a bed. Some people need some covering regardless of the warmth or humidity, the need for u*********s covering for modesty overriding any other. She, however, was sprawled out in complete abandon. Dori was about 13 years younger than I was and her body showed it. As far as I knew, she didn’t purposefully workout, but she stayed active most of the day. She loved walking and refused to do things the easy way, not afraid to use her muscles and body to carry loads of groceries and supplies, even when the guys would offer to do it for her. Lately, after my offer to use the entire estate, her walks took her into the woods beyond the empty kennel building. She also tried the pool once when the guys were off working. Her suit was an old one-piece and I thought she looked ridiculous in it with such a body, but she moved back and forth in the water, breathing hard at the end of a few laps.

She had a lovely body in a simple way. I have always felt that beauty was of many forms. The cover girl beauty is false and unnatural except in the special cases of care in presentation of clothes, make-up, and positioning. Some are truly genetically fortunate to have bodies and proportions that just works, if they are maintained. Others, and Dori was one, have a different kind of beauty. Her beauty seems to come from within her. Even in rest as she was now, she had that sense about her, especially after taking away the conservative and frumpy appearance her hairstyle and make-up had previously given. Softening her hair and allowing it to hang and flow framed her with more warmth and openness. Styling her eyebrows and soft makeup around her eyes made them shine. A couple of simple changes and her entire image seemed to change, which indicated how pretty she really was, hidden under and behind her conservative, protective demeanor and clothing. These thoughts softened slightly, though, and I had to quietly giggle to myself as I watched her lying there next to me with her mouth hanging open and a soft, periodic snore escaping. I can imagine that this woman could be so embarrassed if she knew that image brought me delight.

I took a moment to reflect on the rest of her body as I had the opportunity, when it would not cause embarrassment for her. After the treatment, her body was as hair free as mine. Her skin was smooth and clear with hardly a blemish. Her general tone was firm but not in a way that suggested someone who worked out, but in a more classic sense of someone who was just active and was careful of what she ate. Her stomach was flat, but it wasn’t obviously muscled. In that classic image, she was trim but with some body fat, but nicely so that presented an image of smooth lines. Her hips were evident, her breast nicely sized, not large but definitely not small. The nipples stood out even darker on her black skin and were about the size of dollar coins. Her legs were well shaped, the thighs strong and the calves developed. Overall, I could have easily been jealous if not for the extra years I had on her. I sighed, I was really curious to explore her more intimately, to discover the hidden treasures of her pussy, the image of her open pussy against her black skin. But, that would have to wait, I didn’t want to push her too soon, too fast. I wanted, needed, her to take each step with the same desire, the same passion, that I felt.

Content that I had learned just a little more about my sleeping partner, I gently cuddled up alongside her. I hadn’t intended it, but I was soon asleep, again.

Waking the second time was a completely different experience. Instead of the shifting light through the shears, it was the gaze of Dori. She was propped up on her right elbow so she was slightly looking down on me. In a sudden twist, the examination I had so recently given her, now seemed a bit intrusive when applied to me. The look on her face was thoughtful, though.

Before I could even anticipate what it was, that same question resurfaced. “I am nervous, Miss Ryn. If I get myself ready to give myself to Jesse and Albert … what if they don’t find me attractive or desirable enough?”

“How could you even still ask that? Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You’re pretty, Dori. I am not just saying that. Do you feel they think I am attractive enough?”

“Of course! They both wanted you last night.”

“But you are considerably younger, firmer, trimmer, and … as much as I hate it, you don’t sag at all.” To emphasize my point, I hefted my breasts up. She laughed. “I’ll prove it to you. Let’s go downstairs and see the guys.”

That was when she looked at the clock on the bed stand for the first time. “It’s late! Their breakfast isn’t ready and they are probably already waiting.”

“Relax, dear. They are very capable of getting themselves something to eat on their own. Besides, last night was a big night for all of us. They’ll understand.”

I glanced behind me as I walked to the closet, “No, drop that.” She was stooping to pick up her nightgown. “You’ll wear one of mine and you’ll see what the guys think about you.” I found the gown I was looking for. It was a floor length, white, sheer lace gown that tied only at a spot just below the breast. The top was scooped to a low gap that showed plenty of cleavage. I loved this gown. Although the gown was sheer, the lace pattern provided the illusion of coverage. Standing still, it closed below the breasts. Walking, though, it gapped as you strode, legs flashing, and the loose gown flowing open and to the sides.

Dori was aghast when she put it one and stood in front of the mirror. “I can’t wear this! They’ll see every bit of me.” Her dark skin underneath the white was striking in the contrast. Her even darker nipples were prominent.

I chuckled, “Not really. But, isn’t that the idea? To give them a show, to entice them, and to tease them?” I put on the robe without ties, took her hand, and led her out into the hall and to the stairway.

We were both barefoot so our approach was silent. As we approached the kitchen, we could hear the two men talking. The closer we got, the more distinctly we could make out the conversation, even in their lowered tones. I stopped us before we got to the entry. They were talking about last night, the experiences, and the pleasure they received. This was not two men talking with bravado, sharing their conquest, and attempting to one-up the other. They were expressing to each other their gratefulness, the wonder of the experience.

“I still can’t believe this is happening to us.”

“I know. She’s a lady. I understand she is comfortable with us because of her past, but she is still a real lady. She could have any of those uppity society guys she wanted. And she chose us?”

“I don’t get it, except …”

“What? Except what?”

“Trust. Helping her experience things. Helping to challenge her into new experiences. But, at the same time, needing to be safe, trusting that she will be safe. That’s why it is us and not them.”

“Yea, so … how do we not mess this up? I mean not just for the sex … but, wow, the sex was great! She is really good! But, I mean, how do we make sure she’s happy? I mean … it’s Miss Ryn. She has to be our primary concern. Challenge her somehow, but keep her safe.”

“Not just Miss Ryn, though. What about Dori?”

“Dori? That goes without saying, she’s like my sister.”

“Yea, I pity anyone who tries anything wrong with these two women …”

Dori clutched my hand. I knew instantly what it was. The comment about being their sister. She was hoping to someday be more. I squared her to me, “Wait! Don’t over-react. I am going in by myself, get their attention on me, then when I raise my right arm, you come in.” She nodded, but she looked disheartened. I knew what she would see, though.

I walked into the kitchen and touched Albert on the shoulder as I passed him, “Good morning! How are you two this morning?”

They looked at each other, a little nervous, maybe. I suppose they were wondering if there was going to be any negative reaction to what had transpired last night. “Us? We’re good. It’s a beautiful day … but, we were wondering how you were feeling this morning, Miss Ryn.”

“Mmmmmmm … yes …” I moved to each one of them and kissed each on the mouth. “I am wonderful! More than wonderful, amazingly wonderful. I feel so alive this morning. Last night was … wow.” I had their attention, my robe open and my body exposed. I raised my right hand.

I saw Dori take a deep breath before stepping into the kitchen entry. Barefoot, she was quiet and not immediately noticed. I looked over at her, which drew the attention of the men to the doorway. She looked exquisite and the men seemed to agree. The white gown on her was striking and as she walked into the room, her black legs flashed out from the opening gown.

Albert made the opening exclamation, “Dori, WOW! You … you … are … beautiful!”

Jesse was simply nodding his head. I don’t think he could form any intelligible sounds at the moment. I looked back to Dori and she was all smiles.

* * *

Now, where did I leave off on the story? Oh, right, we were crossing the highway and Floyd said, “You are going to love Cheryl.” Well, he was right, I would love her. But that is getting a little ahead of the story.

As we approached the door to the café, I could see a little sign in the window on the left side, “Help Wanted. Waitress.” He smiled at me as he held the door open for me. He just nodded. Wow, Floyd was turning out to be a god-send. But, I had no waitressing experience.

He seemed to read my reaction somehow. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Just talk to her.”

We were seated at a table by a middle aged woman that did her job with a knowing and confident assurance that gave off the feeling that she had done this for a long time. I was hesitant in my breakfast selection, so Floyd made the decision for me. It was the heartiest breakfast I think I had ever had to that point. Maybe he thought it might be a while before I could afford to order like that, at least depending on what happened later.

When we were finished with our breakfast, I began to look around the café. Floyd made it sound so simple that I should apply for the job, but I had never before applied for work. I had no experience with either working or interviewing. Suddenly, that same woman who seated and served us slid into the booth next to me.

There wasn’t much indecisiveness about this woman. “So, Floyd tells me that you want to work for me.” I was surprised. The directness and self-assuredness in this woman. I was both intimidated and in awe at the same time. A woman like this isn’t taken for granted. “How much experience do you have in serving?”

I looked at Floyd, then her, and back to Floyd. He simply nodded. “None, ma’am. But, I know I can do a good job for you.”

“You think doing this is easy, then? No experience, but you can just walk right into it?”

I wasn’t sure what to make of that challenging approach, but Floyd’s calm face told me to trust in myself. “No, ma’am, not at all. All I mean is that I am a hard worker and bright, I catch onto things quickly. All I need is a chance to prove myself. I’ll work really hard for you; it’s the only way I know.”

She looked up at Floyd and I caught a little smile as she did and it was then that I realized that they had already talked and I was probably already hired, she just wanted to size me up herself. We ended up talking for another 45 minutes until Floyd had to leave to make his last delivery and his return home. We worked out my overall problem, which was that I had nothing and that included almost no possessions or a place to live. She owned the entire building, including the apartment above the café. She had an extra bedroom and offered it to me, if I promised not to bring anyone in, was quiet, and worked hard in the café. Everything she stipulated was exactly me up to that point.

When Floyd got up to leave, we both walked him out and he got big kisses from both of us. It turned out that he and she had known each other for several years. I was to learn a lot more about that later as she came to trust and confide in me.

I learned a lot during my time with Cheryl. It turned out that I really was well-equipped to make a difference. It wasn’t that I was a natural waitress or anything about running a café, but I was good with people, efficient in my time, worked hard, and my mind kept working. I quickly started seeing things that I couldn’t make sense out of. Eventually, as our relationship strengthened, I brought them up to Cheryl. She was open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but the competition for dinner was severe and required a more complex menu than the other meals. I also noticed that we were open without many guests after about mid-day. I asked about just being open for breakfast and lunch, save on menu options to save on items to stock and keep fresh, and save on cook and staff shifts. To her credit, she started paying attention and even consulted with some of her long-time patrons. Her profits went up when she closed down the dinner time, instead focusing on making her place the preferred breakfast and lunch location in the immediate area.

She had also always used paper placemats but the café was focused on the adult customers. With no option, c***dren were forced to sit quietly. That didn’t work very well and parents got frustrated. I bought some crayons at the nearby d**g store and gave a couple to each c***d. Soon, we were posting colored place mats on the little wall below the register and parents were regularly bringing their families in.

In about a month, I went from just another employee to someone Cheryl leaned on not only around the café, but also in our quiet times alone in her apartment. At first, she just confided that her relationship with Floyd had less to do with him and more to do with his wife. She didn’t elaborate and I didn’t push. Soon, though, she confided something that few people knew about her and explained why she was alone in this town … she was lesbian. That also explained her deeper relationship with Floyd’s wife and I remembered him saying that she liked both men and women. I didn’t know what to make of this new information. Frankly, I had never, at least to my knowledge, ever known a lesbian or anyone gay for that matter. I also had to confront my own feelings about it. We were living in very close quarters but she never made any physical move on me or indicated any desire to do anything. On the one hand, I was relieved, on the other I was remembering another thing Floyd had told me about sex: don’t be afraid to try new things.

But, we lived our lives together with that ‘elephant’ sitting in the room with us, neither of us wanting or daring to reference it. After about a month, though, Floyd came back through and this time his wife was with him. They had specifically arranged a meeting of the three of them. I admitted to Cheryl, finally, that I was jealous.

“I know it is probably c***dish of me to even say anything. These are your friends and you certainly have every right to have relationships that don’t include me, but …” I looked her in eyes, “Floyd and I had quite a relationship that night, too.”

For the first time, she pulled me into a hug that felt less like a motherly gesture and more like … something else. “I know you did, I didn’t know if or when any reference to your sexuality could come up between us. We actually talked about you. Floyd would really like to be with you, again. His wife wants to meet you, too.” Her eyes lowered and she took my hands in hers as we sat on the living room couch watching some TV. She seemed to be considering something really hard so I just let her have her time deciding, but I was wanting her to express what it was, I had a wonderful feeling about what it was.

“Lauryn, his wife doesn’t just want to meet you. You know that, right? Floyd mentioned about his wife?”

“Yes, he did. Their life together sounds very … full and rich, at least physically.”

She smiled at that. She had long felt that she could be open with me but this apparently was something she was nervous about. She was like Floyd, she didn’t want anything to be against my will or mutual interest and acceptance. “Lauryn …”, but she stopped.

I moved closer to her, took her into my arms and hugged her, then separated my face to be in front of hers, and I looked into her eyes. I kissed her on the mouth. I could feel her mouth go into a smile as we kissed. And, with my mouth open to hers, I moaned into hers. I took the step to initiate the kiss, our first, and I was the one who felt overwhelmed by it. I had certainly kissed a few women, but they were friendship kisses, cheek kisses. This was entirely different. This was a passionate kiss, a kiss intended to convey a need, a desire. And, the desire was felt by me. The movement of her hands on my back, though, attested to her own desire response.

“Lauryn, I have wanted you a while now. I just didn’t want …”

“I know. I think I do, anyway. You didn’t want to create a situation where I felt forced or obligated because you were my boss or sharing your space.” She smiled at me. “Thank you for that. I don’t know what to do, though.”

She touched my lips with her hand, staring at them as she did. “But … you want to? Is that what you mean?”

I held her hand to my lips and kissed it. I nodded, looking into her eyes and looking and feeling more vulnerable than I had in quite a while.

That night, we entered into our first time together as more than employer/employee or even as friends. That night, we explored a relationship of sexual intimacy. With her hands on my shoulders, she twisted me toward her and she turned to front me, also. Her hands slid from my shoulders down my arms and back up. She took my face into her hands and kissed me, again. This kiss wasn’t only with passion, it was combined with her hands moving from my face, to my shoulders, to my arms, and ending on my breasts. It sent a shock wave through my body. A woman, a nice woman, a woman I had already come to fully trust and respect, was holding me like a lover, kissing me like a lover, and touching me like a lover. My body was supercharged, but I knew much of it was my mind. My mind was racing to catch up to what my body was feeling, experiencing, and yearning for. Unlike other times when my body and mind were not connected for protection, this time was entirely different. This time my mind recognized the joy and pleasure my body was receiving and was racing to get ahead of those feelings, to allow me the pleasure of anticipation and expectation.

Before I knew it, but not too soon for my needs, Cheryl was unbuttoning the front of my dress down to the waist belt. That she undid, before pushing the dress over my shoulders and off my arms. She looked at me with my dress bunched in my lap and still in my bra.

“We need to do something about that.”

“About what?” I responded a bit defensively.

“If you are going to start letting others see your underwear, you need to have some nice underwear for them to see you in. And, it’s about time to get you some new dresses. If you want to attract people, you need to be attractive. What you have been wearing is great for hiding in plain sight.” I was embarrassed, but I knew she was right.

In no time, with the practiced hand of a longtime lesbian, she had me stripped of my remaining clothes. She then took my hand and pulled me from the couch, leading me to her bedroom. I stopped her, “Cheryl … I … I don’t know what to do …”

She only smiled at me. “Tonight, my dear Lauryn, you do nothing. Tonight it is all me doing to you. Remember, as long as your body will let you, what feels good to you can be enjoyed; then, sometime, soon I hope, you can return the pleasure to me.”

That was my first woman-woman experience. It wasn’t my last. In fact, it was only the first of many leading up to Miss Helen.

Several weeks later, Floyd and his wife rolled in with the semi. His wife was everything Floyd had indicated, maybe more so. And he was also right about something else he said to me; she was very interested in spending time with me. The only night they were in town, the four of us spent in the motel room across the highway. This time, though, he got a room with two beds. That night I made love to all three of them and I had my first experience in a threesome. While his wife and I were in a 69, he fucked his wife. That was so erotic and stimulating. While licking and sucking a lover’s clit and pussy, my nose was being bumped by his cock and balls.

Over the next year and a half that I spent with Cheryl and her café, I was without cock except for the sporadic visits from Floyd. I was a woman simply enjoying the relationship and company of a woman. There was never any thought of ‘becoming gay’. I learned a lot from Cheryl over that time about life, about what it meant by ‘gay’, about sex and my body, and about remaining open to what life brought. I was comfortable in that part of my life and that part of my life was with a woman. Like Floyd, Cheryl reinforced the concept of keeping an open mind. She also reinforced, like Floyd, to be watchful for those who might want to take advantage of my open mind and my tendency to do what others directed. She noticed that in me, too.

Not having many expenses, I was able to save money. So, after a year and a half with Cheryl, I left. It wasn’t an easy thing to do by that time. I came to love the life I had with her, sharing the apartment, the quiet and intimate moments. I also loved the work at the café, the people who worked there and the customers that frequented it. But, I had my dream and Cheryl was the prime mover to push me to finally try to realize that dream, to at least make a deliberate move towards it. So, with her behind me encouraging me, I was enrolled into the community college in the next large city to pursue becoming a Vet Tech. I was both excited and sad. But, I knew that Cheryl was right. Our time together was magical and wonderful, but a dream has to be pursued or it will forever hang over you as a ‘if only’.

At about 20 years of age, Cheryl helped me enroll and find an apartment near enough to walk to classes. For the first time in my life, I was on my own. I was enrolled for advanced education aimed at getting me into a field of work I was sure to be my dream. And, I would be completely in charge of my life. The school didn’t scare me; I always enjoyed learning and knew I would once again immerse myself in the passion of learning. What did scare me, though, was being on my own. It was the first time and I was unsure of what that would mean to me and for me, but I hoped the activities of school, and focusing on the requirements of the two year program, would offset those concerns.

For one and a half years at the community college, everything was good. I loved the coursework, the field I was entering and I was again into something that I was excelling at and receiving the positive reinforcement I had while in high school. Then, it all fell apart. When I went into the Registrar’s office to pay for the final semester of coursework, I didn’t have the money. It seemed that I had so much money after working for Cheryl. How could there not be enough money? But, I had no concept of where money was spent, had never been educated in the pitfalls of spending, or learned the dangers of small, wasteful purchases. But, I resolved that it would be only a small set-back. I would go back to work for a time, save more money, and finish my certificate. That was the plan. My plan for escaping the family worked better than this one.

Girls at the school told me that better money and much better tips could be realized at bars. Despite not being much of a drinker, that sounded like the quickest way to getting the money I needed to finish my certificate.

The first bar I applied at, only wanted experienced servers. They, apparently, could be fussy. The second bar was a little lower in the scale of attractive in location and clientele. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be there, but they felt they didn’t want me there. They didn’t look like they could be that fussy by looking at the place, but there was something about the interview that the manager just didn’t seem to be interested in me. As I was walking out the door, one of the existing servers met me.

“Listen, honey. If you want to work a place like this, you have to look like you are interested in fitting in. Look around this place. There isn’t much here, but the guys like to flirt with us servers. The manager took one look at you and just knew that wasn’t going to work. A skirt down over your knees and a top that is completely shapeless. I don’t know where that look is going to work …”

I thought that was harsh and rude, but … on reflection later, I knew she was right. The image I was projecting was still the old, conservative, safe attitude I was brought up with. I went back to my cheap, run-down apartment and dug through things to my little closet until I found the clothes Cheryl help me with. The ones she got me for our fun nights and when Floyd came into town. If flirty was what was needed …

The next bar I tried, I walked in, and within five minutes, I walked back out. I had never been in a strip bar before, though I had heard about them from comments that Pa and the boys made. It was interesting to say the least, but not the place for me to attempt to have a short-term (I hoped) job.

The one after that was better and seemed focused. It had several pool tables, a number TV’s on the walls only showing sports, including car racing (I never did understand the attraction). I walked in with a tighter skirt that was well above my knees and a top that fit my curves well. It was early in the evening but there was already a crowd gathering, I suppose from the after work group. Before I even got to the bar, I felt the eyes of a number of guys on me and that wasn’t lost on the manager as he watched me approach through the bar. The first thing he did was check my ID, and then ask what I wanted to drink.

“I don’t really want anything to drink. What I would like is the job you are advertising.” I tried to make myself sound a lot more self-assured than I was feeling. I guess he liked that because he said he would try me and I should start the next night.

What I thought was going to be a short-term thing turned into a two year chapter of my life. It wasn’t bad by any means but it certainly wasn’t what I was wanting for my life. I continued to learn things about myself and during this time, I learned a very big thing about me that would stick with me for the rest of my life. As both Floyd and Cheryl had quickly identified in our time together and warned me about, I was easily manipulated by others. As time went on, it became increasingly evident that when sex was also involved, I was even more susceptible. That became very apparent during this next period in my life.

It became very clear to me that taking a job in a bar when you have no experience with drinking and understanding of the bar scene was naïve. Although it was easy enough to perform the task of serving well, given my experience at Cheryl’s, it was an entirely different experience given the clientele and atmosphere of a bar. And, that bar wasn’t the high end of bars.

In no time at all, I found myself being pursued by an increasingly large number of guys. My approach to service that worked so well at Cheryl’s seemed to lead guys on in a bar. It wasn’t like I was purposely being a flirt, but that was the way it was coming across to the guys in the bar and the longer we were together in the bar, the more they obviously had to drink, and the more intentional their behavior became. I had never been exposed to so much male attention before, so many guys appreciating me, becoming friendly, and wanting the same response from me. The more it happened, the more flattered I became, and the more I reacted to it. Initially, I reacted with a soft touch as I took drink and food orders, an approachable smile, and laughing at nearly any joke told. I was a popular server and the manager was appreciative. It seemed that most of the women serving were jaded by the exposure to the bad jokes and leering attention as the drinking increased over the night. To me it was all new and exciting. If I had been worldlier, I might have also recognized it as dangerous. But, I wasn’t worldlier. I found it all very exciting.

The first man to entice me into spending time with him away from the bar was about ten years older. He seemed so experienced in life and confident. He spent time at the bar and we talked frequently during the evening. Initially, he was perfectly gentlemanly, taking me to simple dinners and maybe a movie. Without my own car, he was the transportation and that seemed like the way it should be. The initial dates we kissed in his car when he brought me home. I supposed we were acting like teenagers, like we had no place to go, but I knew enough to keep my apartment private for now. By the third date, after a movie, he asked me to come back to his apartment. I accepted. We had sex. It wasn’t even very good. He was urgent and fast, demanding and not attentive to me. I wrote it off as our awkwardness of getting to know each other. I was wrong. Once he fucked me, for that was the way it seemed, he seemed to act like I was now his and I was available to him when he wanted me. I thought it would smooth out, but he started getting upset with me and other men when I was doing my job in the bar, being friendly and flirty, which was good for bar business and my tips. That was when I broke it off.

Even that was a new experience. And, it was a new learning experience about myself. I could make these kinds of decisions for myself, if I needed to. That was a relief for me to realize. Even if I was prone to taking direction and being compliant in a relationship, if I needed to for my well-being, I was capable of separating myself. That was the beginning of a realization of what being submissive, obedient, and compliant meant for me. Despite those tendencies, it was still ultimately my giving another person power over me that would keep me in that mode. If the situation wasn’t good, beneficial, and fruitful, it was within my power to take back control. In a way, that realization allowed me to become more comfortable with new relationships.

One thing that made all the difference going forward for me was developing a trusting relationship with the bar manager. My performance in my job and the way customers responded to me, gave him an initial incentive to be watchful and attentive. That quickly moved into protective and fatherly. Just knowing I had someone like him to intercede or to go to, made a tremendous difference.

My relationships bounced from guy to guy with little interest in long-term commitments but more for fun … and sex. I learned that I really did like sex and became more and more willing to experiment and be led into new things. These singular and casual relationships was my introduction to many new positions and eventually into anal. I can’t say that initially I enjoyed anal, but I also quickly discovered that the partner made a tremendous difference. A partner that was attentive and considerate of the experience for me would make sure I was properly lubricated and he took his time, allowing me the time to adjust to him in that tightest of places.

After more than a year, I was still drifting through experiences and relationships. The ‘plan’ to save money quickly and return to school also seemed to drift away. I was making some money and saving, but I also became more aware of my appearance and how the way I dressed and the makeup I used might affect the men around me. And that took care of a lot of the money I was making.

My life took an even more interesting and exciting direction when I was enticed by not a single man, but a group. It had been several months since my last relationship of any significance when a group of three young men about my age made themselves known, seeking out the part of the bar I was serving. I learned that they had been coming in for quite some time, had noticed my propensity to becoming involved with guys I met in the bar, and finally decided to act. They noticed that I was not specific in my attention to anyone at the moment and seemed to be merely my general flirty self to the patrons of the bar. They were just as impressed that I sometimes seemed to flirt with the women as well as the men. It was excellent for business as it kept the atmosphere easy, fun, and slightly erotic with the teasing mixed in with sports and the pool playing.

When they made their move on me, they did it as a group and not as a single guy. They became regulars for me and would be in the bar at least three times a week. The first ‘date’ was with one of them, the guy I had already identified as the more dominant and leader of the group. He seemed to me to be intentional in his manner and approach. He would seemingly give me options of how we spend the evening, but it was always at his apartment in the end.

After a few times with him, the other two would also ask me out. The same thing would always happen. The evening might be somewhere, but we always ended in their apartment. Initially, I would insist on being driven back to my apartment afterward, but it didn’t take long with each one until I was spending the night with each. Then, I would end up being dropped off at my place on their way to work. Once home, I would shower, crawl into my own bed, and get some more sleep. I was lucky, I suppose, because I could just get some more sleep before my shift at the bar would start sometime in the early evening. They, however, had to be exhausted. But, that was where naivety came into play. It wasn’t until later that it occurred to me that they were rotating to keep me occupied and to push the relationship into higher gears quicker. A normal relationship might take months, whereas when it was being spread among the three guys, my familiarity, and movement into more relaxed sexual activity was accelerated. Within weeks, our times together became three and one. Three guys and me.

The first time, I found myself being passed around among them in one of their apartments. I know each one of them fucked me twice. In the morning, I felt like a rag doll and slept the morning away once I got back to my apartment. In a month, I was the object of an airtight fucking. Every hole was filled at the same time. With these guys, it was always something new and it was almost always extremely exciting.

When it started falling apart, was when they were all out of town at the same time for some big event they just had to go to; it was some guy thing. I sat at home, mostly reflective of my times with them. At first, it was a marvel of everything I was now doing with them, but then I realized what was actually happening: I was nothing but their fuck toy. Oh, don’t get me wrong, they were great. They treated me well, they were considerate of my body, and they made sure I had my pleasure, too. But, I was their fuck toy! More and more of their friends were getting involved. I found myself being a party girl, entertaining a room of guys. It never got to be more than five at a time, but … where was this going? What was in it for me? I don’t mean that in the sense of being paid for it. I wasn’t looking to become a whore, being paid for the sex I was giving out. But, really … what was in it for me?

I realized that weekend that something critical was missing. I was looking myself in the proverbial mirror at 26 years old and wondering what I was doing with my life. It wasn’t terrible; it wasn’t abusive; and, it wasn’t even something I didn’t want to do. I was not being forced into anything. I liked the sex, the giving, and the receiving. But, where was it leading? Was this going to be my life? A party-girl for some guys that were nice to me but had no long-term commitment to me? Was that even what I want? A commitment? I had no idea. I was looking at myself very critically in that high intensity mirror that only you can see yourself in. And, I wasn’t sure what it was that I wanted.

I woke the next morning feeling fresher than I had in a long time. Part of me wondered if it wasn’t having two good night of sleep and rest for my body. Another part wondered if it wasn’t that I was truly thinking of myself critically, again. What was it that drove me so much years before? I had a dream and a passion. I had a goal and focus. I let that slip away and get lost in the pleasures of a world that wasn’t even real for me. I wasn’t just a party-girl or a whore, even if that was what I was acting like.

I was looking through the Sunday paper. It contained a lot of ads, which I went through and more news than I truthfully cared about. Curiously, I found myself combing through the ‘Jobs’ listing in the Want Ads. I stopped and thought about that. Would a change in job location help me? Maybe it would. Maybe, a fresh start, new people, and new experiences could help set me back on track to something more lasting, more rewarding.

Then I saw it. The ad just jump out at me. The reality was that it was a small, inconspicuous ad, very plain type, nothing dramatic or flashy. But, to me it was a neon sign to my eyes: “Woman Wanted to care for dogs and kennel. Good pay, health benefits. If interested call.” An out-of-state phone number was listed. I wasn’t sure at the time, but the number seemed to be Alabama. I had always liked dogs. It sounded like something different. And it would be change of location and people. It said good pay and health benefits. It must be a good position if they give benefits. What could I lose? I called. After a long phone interview during which the man asked an extraordinary amount of questions, both about schools, experience, family, and personal things, I was offered what he referred to as a real interview. It would have to occur at the estate and it would be over a weekend. He said they would pay for the bus fare for the visit, all expenses would be paid, including any refreshment expenses along the route. I was just to keep the receipts. What could I lose? I accepted.

That was how I arrived at the estate for a weekend interview. The year was 1995.

* * *

The guys had looks of disbelief on their faces. It was Dori who expressed it, though.

She slapped the table, staring me down. “No way!” She looked at her companions and back to me. “No way! You came to the estate to take care of the dogs and the kennel?” She just shook her head. “No way …” but there was less conviction in it. Like it was coming together for her, my life as a girl, the family issues, the running away, Cheryl, and the string of men after that and somehow ending up at the estate. Why would working the kennel be any harder to believe than any of the rest of it? It actually kind of fit, in a bizarre kind of way.

Albert wasn’t letting go, it still nagged at him. “But … just taking care of some dogs and the kennel? How many dogs were there? Was that same building there? How much work could that be?”

I smiled at them and let them wait a minute. “I had talked to Mr. Taylor on the phone. I had to come here to talk to Mr. Thrower. I wasn’t told much about the job, I had the same questions, but … I thought, you know how some rich people are, if they wanted to pay me to take care of three dogs, fine by me.”

He still shook his head. “No, not just taking care of some dogs. Are rich people that crazy?” Then he looked up sharply at me, “Ugh, no offense, Miss Ryn.”

“None taken, Albert. I know you better than that.” I gave him a lusty, knowing smile. Then to others, as well. “I know you much better than that, don’t I?” Everyone shared shy glances and everyone nodded. “Yes, rich people can be really crazy with their money. But, I had no idea how crazy this was going to be.”

They looked at me expectantly, but I volunteered nothing further. Not yet. They moaned and complained, but I was feeding this out to them to experience it in pieces. I wanted them to think about each part, accept it, and make it a part of who I was to them. I smiled at them as I got up to begin my day. The next part … hmmmmmm … the next part … why I came here, the reason I was brought here …

* * * CHAPTER 7 will follow * * * Thanks for reading.