Posted by rache on August 22, 2004 at 18:22:39:
Story Codes: FF/M, Les, BDSM, NC, CBT, Null
Copyright 2004 Rachael P. Ross all rights reserved. May be reposted and/or archived to FREE adult access provided my name, email rache696@yahoo.com and this notice are included in the message text. All characters and events are fictional and no resemblance to actual persons or events is intended.
Author’s note: Originally written in 2000 or so, I was still in high school anyway, hence some of the references like the VW. I’d completely forgotten it until…lo and behold…I found it, along with other stuff. I dusted it off but didn’t do a whole lot of editing for content, just style really. The writing was originally quite atrocious! –rr
Van Dyke Street
Fiction by rache
I was sitting on my front steps with my best friend Jenny when the guy showed up. He was driving a little yellow VW Bug, one of the new ones using UFO technology. It wasn’t spinning around really fast or anything though, it was just pulling a U-Haul trailer. We figured some girl would get out. But it was the guy.
He was kind of cute, like Mr. Chekhov on the old Star Trek show, before he became the bad guy on Babylon 5, which I think was a sexier character…but young Mr. Chekhov looked sexier, in a queer nation kind of way.
“Are those posies?” Jenny asked me. “Or pansies?” She was pointing at the flowers in the UFO inspired flower vase molded onto the little dash of the VW Bug.
“I don’t know.” I admitted.
We sat there, just watching mostly as the guy unloaded his stuff. He looked like he was probably a musician, or a hit man for the mob.
“Is that a violin case?” Jenny wondered aloud, pausing to light a cigarette.
“Or a viola case?” I finished for her as she handed me one too. “Thanks, Jen.”
Every now and then the guy would look at us and smile, he even waved once, I think, or maybe there was a mosquito or something in his face. I thought about going to help him, but that would have been unethical, because Jenny and I had already decided we hated him.
“Why did he move here?” Jenny had conned Delilah, the black girl who lived in the basement, out of a forty and she passed it to me. “I mean, it’s fucking Dyke Street for crying out loud.”
“Technically it’s Van Dyke Street, honey.” Delilah said.
“Yeah, but you know what I mean.” Jenny held out her hand. “Hey bitch!”
I swallowed a couple mouthfuls of malt liquor and handed the bottle, still in a small paper bag, back to Jenny. “Sorry.” I grinned. “Maybe that’s why he moved here.”
“He’s a twink.” Delilah judged and went back downstairs.
“I don’t care if he’s fucking Tinkerbell himself.” Jenny sniffed. “I can smell his prick.”
This part of the Village, for a couple blocks anyway, was almost exclusively female. Lesbian supremacists like my girlfriend Jenny, and their muffs, like me, lived here. Having the guy move in was like a slap in the face for Jenny. I didn’t really care. I figured he was gay, so who cares right? Live and let live, that’s my motto, but that’s why I’m just a bottom bitch.
“Looks like he’s just about done.” I observed.
“Yeah.” Jenny nodded. “Why don’t you go say hi to the guy.”
I looked at Jenny. “Why?”
“Because.” She answered. “I want to play.”
“What if he’s gay?” Since he seemed to be, at least as we blithely stereotyped him, ignoring our own great distaste for such treatment.
“Then ask him if he’d take a look at our wallpaper.”
We’d done this before and I never quite understood the amusement, but Jenny was never one to be denied. I thought perhaps she enjoyed it as a kind of a punishment for me, or possibly some sort of proof of my devotion. She knew I didn't enjoy it. I stood up and pulled my skirt down and fixed my blouse, gave Jenny a quick kiss and walked over to the U-haul, leaning against it when the guy came back out of the brownstone.
“Hi.” He said when he saw me and he smiled. He really was pretty cute for being a guy.
“Hi.” I smiled too. “I’m Lisa, I saw you moving in.”
“Right, yeah, I saw you there on the steps.” He looked across the street. “I’m Eric.” He held out his hand, giving me the look, which I didn’t expect from a fag.
I touched him briefly with my fingertips. “That’s my friend, Jennifer.” I gave a little nod. “We were wondering if you wanted some lemonade, or iced tea or something.” I smiled and looked him up and down with my pretty brown eyes, giving him the same treatment he’d just given me. “You look all hot and…bothered and stuff.”
“Uh, yeah, well…Sure, some ice tea would be great.”
I waited while he closed up his now empty trailer, locked his little VW with a couple sharp beep-beeps, and we walked together back to Jenny. He didn’t seem like much of a twink to me. The guy was about 25 I’d guess, six feet tall with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, one of those v-shaped guys with good toned muscles, not the bulging kind, just well defined. His eyes were kind of gray, more than blue, and his hair was short and black and a little wavy.
I’m not sure what he thought of Jen and I. I’m a 22 year old dancer with the Greenwich Dance Troupe, rather smallish at 5’2” and 95lbs, with perky little breasts, a tight little butt, and great legs. My blonde hair is long and I wear it like a halo around my pretty face. Jennifer is a playwright and a director for Lilith Unbound, a small off-Broadway production company. She’s 37 and an attractive brunette with the most wonderful hazel eyes. She dresses down though, so it’s hard to tell she’s got a real hard body. I’ve been with her almost since I stepped off the bus 3 years ago.
“Eric, this is my friend, Jennifer.” I introduced them and Jenny kind of gave him a look when the guy extended his hand, but she took it gracefully enough.
“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave her a smile calculated to weaken a woman’s knees, the same one he’d flashed at me, and I wondered if he practiced it.
“Great.” Jenny gave him a smile of her own, somewhat less friendly, but just as calculated.
“I asked Eric if he’d like something cool to drink.” I smiled too, not wanting to feel out of place. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
I led the way, with the guy following and Jenny closing the door behind us. “So what do you do, Eric?” I asked just to break the awkward silence as we wandered through our living room and into the kitchen.
“I go to school, Columbia.” He replied, looking around. “Interesting place you have here, kind of got the post modern neo-Goth thing going.”
“I like to call it medieval renaissance, personally.” I giggled and pushed through a beaded curtain into the kitchen. “Have a seat, iced tea, right?”
“Yeah, thanks.” He sat down and I could hear Jennifer in the other room, fiddling with the stereo. The strains of 'A Valentine For Jesus' filled our little townhouse, but that was just a prelude to the real music.
I mixed a pitcher of instant and dropped a tray of ice cubes into it while I told him about Jenny and myself. It didn’t take long and I sat down with him, pouring a glass for each of us.
“So you’re a dancer, huh?” He sipped his tea and looked at my legs. “I can see why.” He nodded appreciatively. “Where’s uh, Jennifer? Isn’t she going to join us?”
“Oh, she’ll be along.” I put a little more sugar in my glass, stirring it slowly. “Do you have a girlfriend then, at this college of yours?”
The guy shook his head. “Nope, nah….I’m pretty much alone, still looking.” He gave me a little lift of his eyebrows. “How about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”
I wondered if he was serious. “Nope, I’m…I never found the right guy, I guess.” I laughed at the thought.
“I bet you’ve broken some hearts though, huh?” He chuckled.
“Only when they deserved it.” I smiled coquettishly and giggled.
“You know, I wouldn’t mind.” He said with just the right sort of soft sincerity to make me ask.
“Mind what?”
“Risking a broken heart.” His eyes were twinkling now. “Just to know you better.”
“Really?” I lowered my eyes demurely, letting a little blush come over me.
“Yeah, I mean it, Lisa.” He touched my hand, just the back of it with his fingertips. “I think you’re gorgeous.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” I looked up and tilted my head a little.
“I’d like to.” He leaned forward. “I’d like to know you a lot better, Lisa.” I became aware of his legs close to mine, the cool texture of his jeans against my bare thigh.
“I’d like that.” I said softly, licking my lips.
The guy’s hand was sliding along my forearm, back and forth, petting me like a little kitten. “Would you like to go out, get some dinner with me?”
“I have a better idea.” I lifted my other arm, putting my hand on his shoulder as I leaned forward so our lips were almost touching. “Would you like to see my bedroom?” I whispered, closing my eyes nervously.
“Are you sure?” His hand squeezed my arm gently, just above my elbow and I nodded.
“Yesss…” And I sighed as Eric kissed me finally, his tongue slipping past my lips.
I led him to the spare bedroom Jennifer and I kept, having found such a thing eminently desirable in the friendly bohemian atmosphere of our careers. It was simple enough, with a brass daybed and trundle, a small unfinished dresser, a desk with one of Jenny’s old computers on it, and numerous old black and white photos of women framed on the wall. My favorite was a picture of Sonja Henie from her Olympic gold medal performance. It was original and autographed, as were they all. Jenny’s, I think, was a photo of Margaret Sanger, caught in a candid moment on the street.
I pulled the guy to the bed with me, so that he was on top of me, kissing and touching. His hands were on my breasts, on my thigh, sliding upward slowly and deliberately. I sucked at his tongue and gave a small shiver as I felt him rubbing at my sex. His fingers felt heavy and thick and clumsy and it was hard to concentrate.
“Wait…mmmm…hold on, can you…do something for me…” I breathed. My hand moved across his chest, down to massage the full hardness pressing like a knot against his jeans.
“What, Lisa…what do you need, baby?” He nuzzled my neck, sucking and biting at my delicate flesh.
“I want to try something…” I was smiling and almost giggling as I slipped away from him.
Eric rolled over, onto his back, smiling and catching his breath. “Oh, what a tease!”
I went to the dresser and found what I wanted, holding them up and grinning wickedly. “Please?” I asked softly. “If you let me do you, I’ll let you do me later!” I promised in a little sing-song voice.
“What a bad girl!” The guy laughed. “Just don’t break my heart, okay?”
“I swear!” I unbuttoned my blouse, leaving it on, but exposing my hard brown nipples. “Undress for me.” I told him.
He moved slowly, confidently aware of how good his body was. The man might be bi, I thought, but he definitely wasn’t a twink. When Eric pulled off his pants and then his briefs, exposing his very large and semi-erect penis, I let out the expected gasp and he chuckled.
“You like it, baby?” He stroked it for me.
“Uhmmmm-hmmm…it looks delicious!” But I didn’t waste time admiring it for too awfully long.
I used the leather cuffs on the guy. It wasn’t but a few moments before his naked form was spread eagle on the bed, bound to the strong brass frame of the bed. Eric struggled a little, just testing I think, and he was surprised at how strong Velcro could be. He smiled up at me expectantly and I reached under my skirt, pulling down my little pink panties slowly while his eyes watched my hands. I held them up for a moment and then wadded them into a ball for his mouth, pushing them deeply so they were wedged in tightly.
I stepped back then, buttoning my blouse again, smoothing my skirt and checking myself in the little mirror above the dresser. I ignored the guy’s muffled sounds of bewilderment and walked to the door, opening it and calling for Jen.
She appeared a moment later. She looked at me and frowned slightly. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
I shook my head. “No, he was fine. But I don’t think he’s gay though.”
Jen laughed. “No, I don’t imagine he is.” She glanced at him, seeing Eric’s wide eyes and hearing the bed creak and squeak as the guy tried to free himself. Then she kissed me, hard, possessively, to show the guy that she owned me utterly. Her hand went under my skirt, grabbing my bare ass hard and making me groan.
After several long minutes, during which I practically melted into Jen’s embraced, she pushed me down “Lick me.” She said, loud enough so that Eric could hear.
I knelt and undid Jen’s trousers, pulling them down and then her panties, exposing her soft lightly furred sex. She pulled my head to her, grinding her pussy against my tongue as I sucked and kissed and licked. Jen was staring at the man, watching him watching us, and smiling at him.
“So, you thought you could fuck my girlfriend, huh?” Jen chided the guy. “Just smile and she’d bend right over for your big prick? Is that what you thought?”
I heard some muffled sounds and I sucked Jen’s clit until I felt her fingernails digging almost painfully into my scalp. She reached down, grabbing my skirt and pulling it up to expose my ass and then my glistening shaved pussy as I spread my legs. Jen moved back so I was forced to lean forward, wrapping my arms around her to keep from falling face down on the carpet.
“After Lisa makes me cum, I’m going to cut off your balls.” Jen’s voice was breathless and I giggled as I pinched her clitty between my lips, knowing how that always affected her. “Oh…God!” Her knees were starting to go and she rubbed my face up and down against her cunt as she felt her orgasm coming quickly.
With a little cry, Jen’s bittersweet juices seemed to pour out of her and I pushed my tongue inside the woman quickly, feeling her vaginal walls trembling with pleasure. I could always make Jen cum quickly if I wanted her to, and having a man tied to the bed watching didn’t hurt either, it fed Jen’s darkest fantasies.
I leaned back, giving the pussy I served one last kiss as Jen stroked my wet and flushed cheek. I had her juices all over me, running down my chin and even my neck. I sat smiling and breathing heavily while Jennifer removed her pants and panties completely and walked over to the bed.
“Oh look, Lisa.” Jenny laughed. “He’s so hard!” She pointed at the guy’s penis, standing rigidly at attention from his prone body. His eyes were wide with fear and excitement, having just witness two attractive women engaged in lesbian sex. “How typical.”
“Maybe you should do something about that, Jen.” I laughed too and stood up, peeling off my skirt and losing my blouse so I was naked.
“Bad penis!” Jen spoke as if speaking to a dog. Then she slapped it hard with her palm repeatedly. The guy on the bed struggled at this rough treatment, pulling at the cuffs holding him tightly down on the bed and attempting to turn his body away from Jennifer’s hand.
“We can do whatever we want with you, guy.” Jen was saying. “This is Dyke Street, nobody cares what happens to a man around here. Even the cops. If they send somebody it’s gonna be a female. It’s gonna be a big blue bull and she’s just going to fuck my girl and be on her way. You know how I know that?” She smiled.
“Because it happened before.” I nodded. “Officer Stevens…Mmmmm…” I gave a little sigh thinking about the 5’11” black woman, all 170lbs of her, squeezed almost impossibly into that sexy NYPD uniform. She'd been taking the report on some homeless guy who’d up and died out on the street, choked to death on his own penis. But Officer Stevens had spent most of her time giving me the third degree on our living room floor, much to Jennifer's amusement.
“Happened before.” Jen echoed.
The guy’s eyes were open real big and I could tell he was more than a little nervous, as well he should be. But he was excited too, his cock was still rigid, despite Jen’s none to gentle attentions.
“I think he likes it.” I crossed my arms over my chest looking down at him. “Are you one of those masochist guys?”
“He looks like a pain slut.” Jen nodded in agreement. “Probably a closet case.”
The guy was shaking his head and making some noises like he desperately needed to tell us something important. But it could have been the secret recipe for Kentucky Fried Chicken, we wouldn’t have cared.
“How about it, guy? Are you Goldilocks?” I laughed as he made little sounds of confusion.
“Go get my tool box, Lisa, we’ll get this over with.” Jenny stared down at the guy. “We’re not going to kill you, we’re just going to do something about that little problem between your legs. If you’re real good, it won’t even hurt.” Jenny shrugged. “Well, not too much. But if you’re bad.” She clucked her tongue. “Then it will hurt a lot. I promise.”
I went to the closet and found the big plastic fishing tackle box in which we kept all the odd little tools we needed to fix things around the house. I put it on the bed next to the guy and opened it for Jen.
“Let’s see…” Jennifer teased him a little. “We have this.” She held up a ball peen hammer. “And this…What do they call these, Lisa?” She held up some wire cutters.
“Dykes.” I laughed.
“Oh yeah.” Jen smiled and set them down. “And, oh! Here we go, nothing like a box cutter to get to the bottom of things.” She pushed the blade out and we all examined it. “Looks a little dull, doesn’t it? Well, it’ll work I think.”
I went to the kitchen and got our big heavy wooden cutting board and brought it back. The guy was being very quiet now, maybe hoping if he was good we’d just smile and tell him we were teasing, then let him go and everyone would have a good laugh. I slid the cutting board under his balls, lifting them gently and spreading them nicely on the scarred wood surface.
“Cut?” Jen held up the box cutters. “Or hammer?” She held up the hammer.
The guy started squirming then, making a lot of muffled sounds of protest, which we largely ignored.
“He was trying to fuck you, Lisa, so you pick.” Jennifer smiled at me.
I looked at the guy and rubbed my nose thoughtfully. He had been kind of nice, almost polite, but still…he had definitely tried to put that thing inside me. “Hammer.” I nodded.
The guy was bouncing up and down then, making the whole bed creak and rattle and his eyes were big and pleading. I almost felt sorry for him. “Oh, don’t worry.” I shushed him, grabbing his still hard penis in my hand and stroking it. For a guy about to get his balls smashed with a hammer, he certainly was keeping a very fine erection. “We’re just giving you a hard time. Nobody is going to hurt you, okay? Just relax and we’ll let you go, huh?”
He settled down a little and I kept massaging his prick, sitting on the bed next to him while Jen sat on the other side of the guy, nodding and smiling like it was all a big joke. His eyes closed and he gave a weak sigh of relief through his nose. That was when Jen smashed the hammer down on his balls as hard as she could, over and over and over, while I held his cock and smiled happily into his suddenly horrified and pain-filled eyes.
Jennifer had to do it hard because the bed absorbed a lot of the energy, the cutting board bouncing a little under the rain of blows, but pretty soon it was over. The guy had been screaming, although it was muffled quite a lot by the panties stuffed deep in his mouth. Then he’d cried a little and his body seemed to convulse. I think he would have thrown up, except he couldn’t with the gag in place. I suppose he could have drowned on his vomit, that might have been interesting to see. But he didn’t. He just passed out.
The guy’s balls actually held up pretty good, at least from the outside. They didn’t actually rupture externally or anything, but after Jen was done and I took them in my hand it felt like they were full of pudding. His cock had spurted a little semen, not a lot though and it seemed slightly pinkish and of course he was totally limp now. But I thought I could fix that.
His eyelids fluttered a bit and a throaty groan sounded in his chest as he started coming back around.
“There, see?” Jen was smiling. “Now we can be neighbors and I won’t have to worry about you trying to fuck my muffin all the time.”
I was stroking his cock slowly, trying to work it hard again. The guy was dreadfully pale now, bathed in sweat and his eyes were lidded, as if he was drugged. There was some wetness leaking from the tip, pinkish and watery. I rubbed my thumb over it, wondering what it was, while Jen put her tools away and picked up the cutting board.
“Are you going to play with him?” She asked me, and I thought her voice sounded just a little sad. Jen had never, ever been with a man. I had, once when I was 16, but I’d only been experimenting. But still, it did make me a suspect, I knew.
“I just wanted to see if I could make him cum.” I shrugged. “I bet it would be pink.” I giggled a little at the thought and Jen rolled her eyes.
“Well, don’t get too attached to him. As soon as he can walk we’re kicking him out.” Jen gave him a last look and disappeared down the hall.
The guy moaned and his eyelids fluttered a little more and then he fell completely unconscious. I let go of his penis with a sigh, resigning myself to the fact that he just wasn’t going to ejaculate one last time for my amusement. I contented myself with playing with his balls, rather enjoying the mushy texture as I squeezed his testes repeatedly.
A little while later I was back outside, sitting with Jenny on the steps. The sun was going down and the street was relatively quiet. It was our favorite part of the day and we sipped iced tea and smoked our cigarettes and listened to some old Stones coming up through Delilah’s window.
“Who’s that?” Jen elbowed my knee and I looked.
“I don’t know.”
She was with a friend. Two women, one dressed nice, like a lawyer or a stock broker maybe. Tall with short black hair and fine, fine legs up to the short hem of her business skirt. The other was shorter, a little mousy thing with a button nose and pouting lips. She wore a Yankees t-shirt over her large and unrestrained breasts. She was cute and shy, it looked, almost terminal.
They were walking up to the guy’s apartment, ringing the bell and looking around. The tall woman stared at us, the smaller one looked up and down the street. After a few minutes they walked over.
“Hello.” The woman in the suit said, smiling at us in turn. “I’m Kathy.”
“Hi. I’m Jenny and this is my girlfriend, Lisa.” Jenny didn’t move so neither did I.
“Nice to meet you.” Kathy glanced at her companion. “This is my friend, Samantha.”
“Just Sam.” The girl, who couldn’t have been more than 18 I thought, smiled apologetically and nodded. “Hi.”
We nodded back as Kathy looked across the street at the guy’s apartment. “You, uh…you haven’t seen the guy driving that yellow bug, have you? Tall, black hair, good looking?” She looked back searching our faces.
“Carrying a violin case?” I asked.
“Viola.” Samantha spoke quickly. “It’s a viola. I go to Julliard.”
“That was your viola?” Jen asked.
“He’s my brother, Eric. He’s helping us move in, Sam and I, and uh, he was supposed to be here. I see my car and the u-haul but…”
“That’s your Volkswagen?” I asked, suddenly feeling very unhappy. “You’re moving in and not…” I swallowed, “…your brother?”
Samantha giggled and Kathy gave her a look, the same kind Jen would have given me and I understood their relationship immediately.
“Of course he’s not moving in.” Kathy gave me a little look. “This is Dyke Street, isn’t it?”
“We’ve been waiting months for a place to open up here.” Samantha leaned a little closer to Kathy and the older woman put an arm around the girl protectively.
"Ever since Sammi moved in with me." Her voice was full of affection for the girl. "My apartment in Midtown is so small..."
Samantha nodded. "But this will be perfect and Eric is so nice to us. He's straight, but he's so understanding about everything.” She looked into my eyes and smiled. “I hope he comes back soon, so we can introduce you guys to him!”
the end
rache696@yahoo.com