Sarah s StoryChapter 7 Sarah and Deedi
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There's Something About Sarah - Chapter Four free porn video
There's Something About Sarah
By
Michele Nylons
Chapter Four - Bruno's Bar and Grill
The phallus was long, thick and veiny. The glans was an angry purple
color and clear droplets of pre-seminal fluid oozed from the eye.
The red nailpolish I was wearing contrasted nicely with the smooth,
almost silky pink flesh of the turgid member as I slowly stroked the
throbbing shaft. He sighed and then gasped as I extended a finger and
caught a globule of the precum and rubbed it into his fraenulum. I
smiled; gladdened that my ministrations were giving him pleasure.
He reached out and gently eased my head towards the rampant erection and
I opened my mouth obligingly and licked the clear syrup dripping from the
glans and then took the already pulsing penis into my mouth. I moved my
lips up and down the shaft; flicking my tongue around the sensitive base
of his glans; then his other hand also rested on my head and pulled me
harder into his groin.
He pushed up and grunted; forcing his hard manhood deeper into my mouth.
I didn't gag. I slavered at the quivering cock and sucked on the shaft,
evoking his orgasm. He moaned and shuddered as his penis pulsed and
erupted in my mouth. I swallowed the hot, musty seed, feeling both
submissive and powerful knowing that I had given such pleasure to my
lover.
When he had finished ejaculating I licked the last of his issue from the
eye of his penis and smiled. I looked up into my lover's face and that's
when I started to scream.
Staring down at me with a malevolent smile was Bing Holthouse.
I screamed and he started to laugh and I screamed harder and louder.
I woke up from the nightmare and opened my eyes.
I was lying safe in my bed in my small apartment and all was well. It
was just a bad dream.
I was in my first year at Haas School of Business at the University of
California, Berkeley where I was undertaking a two year MBA to be
followed by a one year Masters of Financial Engineering.
But once again I'm getting ahead of myself...
Amanda came running to me as I stood sobbing in the dust and exhaust
fumes as Drew drove off into the night.
I was inconsolable, tears running down my already mascara smeared cheeks,
my Prom dress ruined. She led me inside, undressed me and bathed me.
She wrapped me in a white woollen bathrobe and sat me down and lit me sit
me a cigarette and gave me a tumbler full of bourbon.
"You know you can't stay here Sarah. Things are not going to get better
for you," she sighed.
"I know!" I shouted.
We spent the rest of the night packing everything I had into two beat up
suitcases, drinking whisky and smoking but we never discussed what
happened to me. Unsurprisingly Sloane did not return home that night.
Amanda drove me to Austin; we left in the grey pre-dawn light and I
sobbed for about an hour, other than that we said nothing to each other.
My mind was racing; I needed to plan my future. I stopped crying and
began to think. I had the beginnings of a plan by the time we reached
the outskirts of Austin. Amanda broke the silence.
"Mary-Jo Bilkin rang me and told me what happened at the Prom. As much
as she knew anyway. I don't know what happened after you ran out of the
Prom and I don't suppose you want to tell me," she mumbled around her
cigarette.
I just turned and glared at her.
"That bad huh? I've been taken against my wishes more'n once; 'taint
nice but it ain't the end of the world neither," she said.
"You have no idea!" I hissed.
"Yeah, well once or twice there was more'n one," she squinted over the
smoke.
I shuddered at the memory of the previous night and then cleared my mind.
"I'll need money," I said woodenly.
"Taint much left but I guess now you're movin' on what's left is yours,"
Amanda lit another cigarette off the butt of the one she had just
finished and handed me a passbook.
"My trust fund?" I queried.
Amanda nodded; staring straight ahead.
I opened the passbook. There was a little over $7000 left in escrow. It
wasn't until I was on the Greyhound heading west that I flicked through
the well-thumbed little booklet to see that Amanda had spent over three
hundred thousand dollars over the twelve years I had been living with her
and Sloane. That's only $25,000 a year but still a pretty penny in 1986.
"And take this; you'll need some cash," she rummaged in the pocket of her
coat and thrust three hundred dollars in greasy bills into my hand.
"Where you goin' hun?" she stole a glance at me.
I saw genuine sorrow on her face.
"I'll call...Or maybe I won't," the old car chugged into the bus depot.
Amanda didn't get out from behind the wheel. I realised then she was too
ashamed.
I climbed out of the rusty Ford pickup. Sloane and myself joked that the
panels had more Bondo than metal in them and the fading paintjob was a
patchwork of primer and mottled duco.
I was wearing skinny jeans, a baggy long-sleeved T-shirt and flats. I
had combed out the hairdo and wiped off the makeup that Sloane had
painstakingly done for me for the Prom and my hair was worn in a simple
ponytail and my makeup minimal. I hefted my suitcases out of the
pickup's tray and shouldered my large vinyl tote bag.
I didn't look back; I strode over to the ticket window and bought a
ticket to Oakland California. It cost me twenty five dollars and lucky
for me the bus was leaving in fifteen minutes.
By the time my suitcases were loaded and I was seated in the rear of the
half-empty bus I was mentally and physically exhausted and when the
Greyhound lurched out of the bus station I was fast asleep.
I awoke as the bus pulled into a gas station and diner on the outskirts
of Tucson.
"One hour stop folks; enjoy and don't be late re-embarking," the driver
called out as the brakes hissed and the door opened.
The diner was garishly lit; all vinyl and formica and it smelled of fried
food, stale coffee and disinfectant. I peed and then ordered coffee
while I laid out some paperwork on the table. A middle-aged travelling
salesman sauntered over, smiled a licentious grin and pointed to the
chair opposite. I turned down my mouth and gave him the finger and he
blushed, mumbled something unintelligible, and stumbled away. I later
regretted discomfiting him that way; but at the time I was in no mood for
a come-on - by anyone.
On the table before me were acceptance papers for both Texas U at
Arlington and the University of Houston. Both were out of the question
of course. There was also an acceptance from the University of
California. I'm not even sure why I applied; just to see if I could get
in I suppose.
I wrote down the number of the Dean of Admissions on a napkin and went
over to the payphone and dropped in a quarter. When I returned to the
table fifteen minutes and seven quarters later I felt a little better.
I smiled at the waitress and waved my cup at her for a refill and began
to stuff the papers back into the manilla envelope when something dropped
out. I picked it up and stared at it. It was a Polaroid taken by Amanda
of Drew and I dressed for the Prom.
A single tear ran down my cheek and then I felt my anger building and I
screwed up the Polaroid and threw it towards a nearby trash can where it
bounced off the rim and tumbled to the floor.
"Are you ok hun?" the waitress asked raising an eyebrow and smacking her
gum.
I gave her my best smile and nodded as she filled my cup.
I gulped at the hot coffee; I had no appetite but I was very thirsty.
"All aboard! Greyhound for Oakland California now leaving!" the driver
bellowed through the diner door.
People began to gather their belongings and file out the door and I
followed. I was last in line when I got to the door of the bus.
"Wait! Wait!" I squealed at the driver and ran back inside the diner.
I raced over to the trash receptacle and breathed a sigh of relief when I
saw the crumpled Polaroid still there on the floor. I snatched it up
and ran back to the bus giving the driver my biggest smile and he gave me
an appreciative grin, forgiving me for holding up the bus.
I fell into my seat and carefully smoothed out the photograph.
I took another bus from Oakland to Berkeley and checked into cheap hotel
and slept until midday. I bought takeout coffee, a bagel and a copy of
the local rag and perused the classifieds, circling potential lodgings.
I found a cheap one-room furnished apartment close to the University of
California and signed a one year lease, shelling out the bond from the
remains of my inheritance. The place was sparsely furnished but good
enough for my needs. Over the next few days I bought some curtains,
rugs, small appliances and knick-knacks to brighten the place up. I kept
myself to myself pretty much but I did go to the hairdressers and had my
hair dyed brunette and cut into a bob.
The extravagance of my first professional hairdressing experience was
wonderful and after the treatment I hardly recognised myself. I was
still attractive but I looked older and I hoped more worldly. I was very
much aware that I was a small town teenage girl in a big city.
About a month after I had settled into my little apartment I became
acutely aware that I wouldn't be able to survive on my trust money. it
was dwindling fast and I had signed up for a pre-term coaching class
which started next week and I was yet to pay any of the University
tuition fees but I'd done the math and the payments were going to clean
out my trust. I needed a job.
One block down from my apartment was a bar called Bruno's Bar and Grill.
It wasn't so much seedy as, shall we say, atmospheric. Relying mainly on
students for cliental during the university semesters, it survived on the
patronage of locals during the breaks. I had been in the place a couple
of times just to test the water so to speak; the legal drinking age was
twenty one and I was sure I could pass with my new hairstyle, makeup and
the appropriate outfit. Both times I had been served a beer and a shot
without being carded.
I also figured it was the kind of establishment that didn't regularly
card its customers anyway; relying as it did on the college crowd for
income. I had noticed the sign in one of the windows 'Bar Staff Wanted'.
I dressed in a simple skirt and blouse ensemble and low heels ensuring I
was showing plenty of leg and fussed over my hair and makeup until I was
happy that I looked the part. I wanted to look fresh and sexy but also
mature.
Bruno Basso was a large, swarthy man; proud of his Italian heritage and
it was obvious he was taken with me as soon as he laid eyes on me. His
dark droopy eyes scrutinised me intently, lingering on my long nylon-clad
legs and my underdeveloped chest.
"You've got no tits but with legs like those and that pretty face you'll
pull in those college boys," was his assessment of me, without even
asking if I had any experience behind a bar.
I started working at Bruno's six nights a week; 7pm to 11pm Monday
through Friday and 4pm to 11pm on Saturdays. The job paid minimum wage
and I split my tips with Steve Soderman the other barman, and Lucy
Bellows the waitress.
Steve was a skinny kid about my age and it probably took me three shifts
to figure out he was gay. He was out and out 'faggy gay'; he had the
lisp, the effeminate mannerisms, and dressed al la David Bowie circa
1973. Also, he didn't hit on Lucy or me unlike Bruno who took every
opportunity to rub his crotch against our asses behind the crowded bar.
I didn't really mind, it went with the job and was reassuring in some way
that my secret was safe.
One evening Bruno cornered me in the stockroom; he'd been drinking on the
job and his blood was up. He pressed me against the shelving with his
big haunch and I could feel the heat of his erection on my belly. His
fingers raked my thighs and he lowered his face to mine and he opened his
lips. He smelled of garlic, onions and Jack cheese.
I slipped out his embrace and held him at arms distance.
"Bruno! Really! You'd only regret it and think of Mary waiting for you
at home," I chastised him.
Mary was Bruno's wife, she was petite and pretty and as placid as a
mouse. Bruno apologised.
"I'm sorry Sarah. You are so beautiful and sexy and I've been drinking.
I promise it won't happen again," he sighed.
Bruno put a twenty in the tip jar that night but his promise didn't stop
him copping a feel or rubbing up against me and Lucy whenever he got the
chance. We both just put it with it; we needed the job and it was the
1980s, and sexual harassment in the workplace was still 'de rigour'.
Lucy became my first friend in California. She was vivacious, loud and
sassy; the opposite to my shy, cool and demure demeanour. She wore her
blonde hair teased out with red and blue highlights, flouncy skirts and
dresses of tulle and satin, fluro-colored lustrous pantyhose, too much
makeup, too much jewellery and spiked high-heels. Think Cindy Lauper on
steroids.
The college boys and locals alike loved her. She teased and flirted with
them but never went beyond that and because of that the college girls
liked her too. She made double the tips of Steve and I but she still
insisted we split the spoils.
"Hey you're my sister in arms," she said one night and hugged me.
I thought of Sloane and held back tears.
I was well into my first semester and besides working at Bruno's, outside
of my classes I did nothing but study. Plenty of guys hit on me but once
again I had become the Ice Princess and they gave up eventually.
I loved living in California; it was so different to the small Texas town
where I grew up and the people were so different to the rednecks like
Bing and his football buddies. People were sophisticated and tolerant.
The races and the sexes mixed freely. Women still hadn't broken the
glass ceiling but around Berkeley and most of California you weren't
likely to be beaten up because of your race, sexual orientation or your
beliefs.
One Saturday evening after we had closed up, Lucy and Steve collared me
and talked me into having a drink before we left the bar.
"Hey Sarah why don't you come out with us," Steve asked flicking ash from
his cigarette into the large crystal ashtray.
"Nah. I'm really not up for it. I wanna study tomorrow for an exam I
have on Monday," I replied.
"Oh fuck me Sarah! You're acing your grades and you're top of your
class. You're the only one of us girls who won't have to give professor
Biderman a blowjob to pass his trickle down economic theory class!" Lucy
laughed.
"And what! Boys can't give a professor a BJ to pass?" Steve rejoined.
We all laughed.
After a couple of freebies on Bruno's tab they talked me into going out
with them.
We squeezed into Lucy's beat up Toyota and she drove us downtown and
parked in the parking lot of a club that was garishly lit with pink and
aqua neon. 'Bendy Wendy's' was the name of the club which I figured was
cute and later discovered was also apt.
We coughed up the two dollars admission and got stamped on the wrist.
The stamp was a cartoon figure of a vamp lady, think Betty Boo, sitting
cross-legged on a barstool displaying her stocking tops with 'Bendy
Wendy's' lettered underneath.
The place was dark, with booths running along the walls, a long bar and a
small dance floor and it smelt of stale beer and cigarette smoke. An
all-girl band was on the small stage cranking out a pretty good rendition
of 'Walk Like an Egyptian'. We made our way through the crowd to the bar
and to my surprise an elegantly dressed lady who looked a little like
Betty Boo herself leaned over and kissed Lucy on the lips.
"Wendy, meet Sarah; Sarah, meet Wendy," Lucy smiled as she made the
introductions.
Wendy took my hand in hers and kissed the back of it.
"Charmed I'm sure. Any friend of Lucy's is a friend of mine," she smiled
at me with brilliant white teeth framed by her bright red lipstick.
"Two Jack's and coke; and a beer for Steve," Lucy smiled.
Wendy poured the drinks and put them in front of us then she leaned over
the bar, her ample bosom nearly spilling out of her bustier and enveloped
me in a cloud of perfume. She wore a lot of makeup, her eyes outlined
with kohl and her lashes heavily mascaraed, her cheeks were rouged and
her lustrous black hair was curled and framed her pretty face. I guessed
she was in her forties but it was hard to tell.
"Your first drink is on the house darling; after that you pay...one way or
another," she stroked the back of my hand and smiled licentiously.
She reached across the bar and kissed Lucy again, this time the kiss was
passionate with lots of tongue action. Wendy stroked Lucy's face as they
kissed. I blanched at this open display of affection but then I looked
around and reality hit me.
Boys were dancing with boys and girls with girls. There were some boy-
girl couples but not many. A lot of the couples were kissing and groping
each other in the dark club and I felt an uneasiness creep over me.
"Oh my god you should see your face Sarah!" Lucy grinned.
"You've got a lot of growing up to do you Texas cornbread hick; kick that
cowshit off your heels and smell the perfume sugar," she laughed.
I smiled back at her and raised my drink. We clicked glasses and both
burst out laughing.
"I'm sorry I just never guessed," I smiled at her.
"Yep I'm a big lezzo and Wendy is my squeeze," she smiled back.
Steve had wondered off and was sitting with a group of young guys talking
animatedly over the music.
"Let's get a booth," Lucy took my hand and led me to a quiet booth away
from the bar and the dance floor.
"To my first gay bar experience," I raised my glass to Lucy and we both
drank our drinks.
A waitress arrived immediately with refills.
"The perks of fucking the owner," Lucy smirked.
We chatted for an hour or so and then Lucy excused herself and got up to
dance with Wendy. I had quite a buzz going and was feeling very pleasant
as I sat there perusing the passing parade. I almost didn't notice that
someone had slid into the booth and was sitting beside me.
I turned and was about to tell the person that the seat was reserved for
Lucy when I looked into the most gorgeous face I think I had ever
encountered. Her face was elfin; heart-shaped with green eyes, tiny nose
and cupid's-bow lips. Her jet black hair was short, emphasising her long
elegant neck and alabaster skin. She was wearing a green satin Cheongsam
with a Mandarin collar; the hem rested at the top of her thighs showing
off her long elegant legs sheathed in sleek flesh-toned hosiery. Her
waist was tiny but her bosom was quite ample.
"I'm Tina," she smiled at me and offered her hand and my heart melted.
Other than Sloane, who I worshipped as a sister, I had never been
attracted to a woman before but I became instantly infatuated with Tina.
I took her hand in mine.
"I'm Sarah," I smiled back at her.
She leaned forward and kissed my cheek.
"With that accent you definitely ain't from around here," she grinned.
"No I'm from Texas," I replied.
The conversation came easy and before I knew it I was telling Tina my
life story. That is the life story I had concocted; no mention of me
being adopted as a small boy named Stephen Grayson or of the events of
the Prom night. I glossed over all of that and told Tina of being taken
in by my aunt Amanda while I was still a little girl and of my love for
my sister Sloane. It was all happy families and serenity. No mention of
Amanda being a whore and Sloane following in her footsteps. No mention
of me being outed as a trans woman at the Prom or the assault that
followed.
Tina and I fell into an easy repartee, drinking and joking and more
drinking. Some time during the evening we danced; basking in the comfort
as we held each other close.
Lucy came back to the table sometime later. I had lost track of time.
She scrunched up beside Tina and me and grinned.
"Well! How good is this! My two best friends sitting together and
getting cosy."
"I'm taking Wendy home; she's had enough to drink and the staff can keep
the place going until closing time. You girls play nice," she winked and
squeezed my knee.
"A parting gift," Lucy dropped two joints on the table and Tina slipped
them into her purse.
After Lucy left I felt a little vulnerable; Steve had departed earlier
hand in hand with a Bowie lookalike; 'how Steve' I thought.
Tina sensed my discomfort and took my hand in hers.
"I have a car. Let me drive you home," she said.
"Aren't you a little too sloshed to drive?" I asked.
"Shit girl! This is California! You can be arrested here for sober
driving," she chuckled.
Tina had a Mini; it suited her diminutive build. I couldn't help but
steal a glance at her long, well-defined legs as she engaged the clutch
to shift gears. We chatted about my studies at college during the short
drive and when I asked her about what she did she was evasive but said
she worked in the film industry.
"I'm usually behind camera," was all she let on.
"But tell me more about those hunky Texas high school football players
Sarah; I bet one of them popped your cherry," she smiled.
I shivered as I remembered being bent over that park bench and she felt
my angst.
Her hand caressed my knee.
"I'm sorry if I bought up some bad memories babe," she said consolingly.
"Right here. This is my place," I pointed to my apartment block and we
pulled up outside.
There was an awkward silence for a while and then Tina opened her clutch
and took out the two joints and held them up.
"Do you wanna?" she looked at me with those big green eyes and once again
my heart melted.
"Fuck it! Lets do it!" I grinned.
"That's my girl," she beamed back at me.
I lit some candles and put 'Dark Side of the Moon' on the turntable and
we sat on the rug with a glass of bourbon each.
"You southern girls do know a good bourbon whisky," Tina held her glass
up to the candlelight.
"Ok cowgirl, here you go. Just take a toke and hold in the smoke.
You'll want to cough but hold the smoke in to get the full effect," Tina
had lit one of the splifs.
I took it from her and drew in a lungfull of the acrid smoke. We sat
crosslegged on the rug and swapped the doobie back and forth until it was
gone. The narcotic effect of the marijuana began to kick in and I lay
back on the rug listening to 'The Great Gig In The Sky' and closed my
eyes.
I felt Tina's body as she lay on top of me. She lowered her lips to mine
and I responded. She tasted like candy and bourbon, sweet and mellow.
At first we just brushed our lips together then she slipped the tip of
her tongue into my mouth. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her
close and we kissed deeply, our tongues intertwining.
Our nylons rasped as I raised my legs and slid them along hers; her
breasts pressed against my flat chest. She stroked my face and looked
deep into my eyes and kissed me again.
Tina's hands slipped under my blouse and she tweaked my nipples. I
wanted to touch her breasts too but the Cheongsam was difficult to
unbutton. Tina raised herself off me and opened the buttons on the front
of the Cheongsam and took my hand and guided it to her breast. My hand
slid inside her satin brassiere and found her plump mounds, her nipples
were erect.
I wanted to apologise for my meagre breasts but Tina had already lowered
her face to my bosom and flicked my nipple with her tongue. I gasped and
reciprocated and she gasped too. I cupped her breast in my hand and
suckled her nipple and she moaned. We kissed and suckled on each other's
breasts, our lust heightened by alcohol and narcotics.
Tina's hand slipped down to my legs and disappeared under my skirt; she
stroked my thighs. I was still wearing the control-top pantyhose that I
wore to work at Bruno's, her fingernails gently stroked my upper thighs.
My penis was straining against my gaff and I was leaking pre-seminal
fluid. Her hand drifted across my satin panties.
"You're getting wet," she smiled down at me and extracted her hand from
under my skirt and licked her finger as she looked at me, the lust
apparent in her eyes.
Tina tried to put her hand under my skirt again and I gripped her wrist
and stopped her.
I started to cry.
"I'm sorry there's something I should have told you. It's a secret that
I have never told anyone," I sobbed.
Tina was straddling me and she lowered her face to mine and kissed me
tenderly. She raised herself up again and looked down on me.
"You mean this?" she whispered.
Tina hiked up the hem of her Cheongsam exposing her stocking tops and
white nylon panties.
She put her hand inside her panties and fumbled for a few seconds and
then released her turgid penis. It was long and slender, the glans
glistened with her secretions.
"It takes one to know one," she smiled down at me.
She put her hand inside my panties and tore open the gusset of my
pantyhose and ripped away the cosmetic tape and freed my rampant member
from the imprisoning gaff.
She pressed our achingly hard members together and lowered herself to me.
We kissed as we frottaged and groped at each other.
If not for the booze and the drugs I probably would have panicked and
fled, but it felt so wonderful and so right.
Tina lifted my legs and nestled her penis against my anal bud. I tensed
and pushed on her shoulders.
"Shh babe...relax," she smiled down at me.
She snatched at her nearby clutch and took out a tube of KY.
She entered me slowly and tenderly; stopping to kiss me and caress me
until she was fully inside me.
Unlike the awful experience with Bing and his troglodytes; this time it
felt sensuous and erotic. The sensitive synapses in my sphincter
reverberated with pleasure. I felt full; but joyfully full. Tina's
glans was pushing against something inside of me that intensified the
sensuality and excitement and I lifted my legs and wrapped them around
her slim waist and held her too me.
We kissed and caressed as Tina slowly fucked me. Her back arched and she
mewed as her hot seed ejaculated deep inside me and I felt my own orgasm
wash over me as I spent my semen against her belly.
We lay in each others arms, pressed against each other until we were both
sated.
Tina rested on her elbows and searched my eyes with hers. I was weeping.
"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? Did I make you do something that you're
regretting?" she said, obviously concerned.
I gazed into her exquisite emerald eyes and pulled her face to mine.
"No. It was beautiful. So beautiful. I thought I was a freak but you
made me feel so wonderful; so special," I sobbed.
"Sarah; you are wonderful and you are special," she kissed me tenderly
and I held her tight.
In the early hours of the morning I awoke in bed and wondered if I had
been dreaming but I felt Tina's warm body next to mine and I snuggled up
to her. She rolled over and kissed me; her breath smelled of cigarettes,
whisky and marijuana but it tasted like an elixir to me.
She was naked except for her stockings and panties and I was naked too
but still wearing my panties and now shredded pantyhose. We intertwined
our legs as we hugged each other until we drifted off to sleep.
To be continued.
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