Women of the Mean Streets Read online

  “Strip,” she ordered me. Once I was done, she said, “Now play with yourself, make your nipples hard.”

  I felt awkward having her watch me touch myself. But I did as I was told. I had a lot to learn, and Amanda was teaching me.

  “Between your legs. Touch yourself there.”

  That was harder to do than my breasts. I had to close my eyes so I couldn’t see her watching me.

  “Make your clit hard,” she whispered in my ear. Then I felt her mouth clamp over a nipple. She sucked it, finished with a nip that made me gasp, and said, “Get yourself really wet. I want to put three fingers in you this time.”

  I wasn’t sure if I could have done that with just touching myself, but doing her had thoroughly soaked me.

  “You are so not going to be a virgin when I’m done with you,” Amanda told me. “Are you wet yet?” she asked as she licked a nipple. “Are you ready to be fucked?” She licked the other nipple.

  “Yes! Yes!” I was aching for her to touch me.

  “Keep playing with your clit. I want your hand down there while I’m fucking you.”

  Then her fingers were pushing inside me, pushing hard.

  “Breathe out,” she instructed. “Relax. Let me in.”

  Like I could relax with her touching me down there. I let her in; I kept my legs spread as wide as I could so she could do whatever she wanted to with me.

  She was right, once I let go it started to feel good, real good. She buried her finger in me, her palm hard against my labia. “Make yourself come. I want to be deep inside you while you come.”

  Just her voice was enough. I bucked and screamed, obeying her.

  She even let me spend the night, and we did it all again early in the morning before she had to leave.

  I’m in love, I thought as I rode my bike home in the early morning fog.

  Then it was another stretch of me sitting in the back with her friends at the coffee shop, handing out sandwiches to the homeless. I had to settle for her hand brushing mine as she passed out the peanut butter jars.

  She did pull me aside briefly when the skanky beard guys were loading the tables into the van and say, “I hate this, but we should be discreet and act like nothing is going on while we’re out here. Homeless work isn’t always as cool about lesbianism as other areas of social work.”

  She was right, of course. So I acted like she was just another classmate of mine from school and nothing more. I had to not even look at her if I could help it because when I did look at her it was hard not to remember her smiling at me while she lay on top or how glorious she looked naked. I had to hide my love and desire for her. If it was what she wanted, I would do it.

  It was almost two weeks of waiting and not being able to look at her before she made a point of catching up with me after class.

  “Walk me to my car,” she asked. She ambled slowly, letting the others leave.

  When we got to her car, she said, “Megan, I need you to do me a really big favor.” My eyes must have said yes, because she didn’t wait for me to reply. “I need you to take something to where we usually park the van.”

  “On my bike?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it’s not that heavy. It’s something the homeless population needs.” I must not have hidden my worry quickly enough because she added, “It’ll be safe, the cops just did a big sweep there and they’re still out.”

  She removed a small blue duffel bag from her trunk.

  “Go to right below the overpass and ask for Smiley. Give him this and tell him it’s the usual deal. He’ll know what it’s for.”

  I nodded agreement. This was for social work and Amanda.

  She hastily scanned the parking lot, but no one was near us. She quickly kissed me. “Don’t go home, come to my place when you’re done,” she whispered.

  I twined the straps of the duffel around my bike handlebars, balanced it, and then pedaled off into the afternoon.

  Amanda was right about the police. I passed three cars on my way there. One cop even asked me what I was doing and I had to show him my social work school ID and let him know I was doing outreach to the homeless. He shook his head and told me it was dangerous out there. I was polite and didn’t point out that social workers went places the police were afraid to go.

  Finding Smiley was easy. He looked surprised to see me with the duffel bag, but quickly took it from me.

  “Amanda says it’s the usual deal,” I remembered to say to him.

  He muttered, “Yeah, right. See ya in the funny papers,” and left immediately, getting into one of those big noisy cars.

  Social workers came in all varieties.

  I hurriedly biked to Amanda’s place, desperately wanting to see her. I could almost taste her and feel her as I pumped my legs. Stop thinking these things, Megan, I had to admonish myself as I flew through a stop sign. It’s not safe and you’re going to ruin your nice leather bicycle seat.

  When I got to Amanda’s apartment, the door opened as if she was watching for me.

  “Any problems?” she asked, pulling me inside and quickly kissing me before giving me a chance to answer.

  “Nope, not a one. You were right about the police. There were a bunch of them out.”

  “Did any of them see you give the stuff to Smiley?”

  “I don’t think so. Not that I noticed. And he left pretty quickly. Does it matter? We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

  “Of course not, but you know cops. They think homeless people are scum and sometimes they cause problems just because they can.”

  “Well, they didn’t cause any problems this time,” I assured her.

  “Good. You’re such a smart kid.” And she kissed me again. “Hey, shower for you, you smell like you biked all over town.”

  She lovingly shoved me in the direction of the shower. “You’re not joining me?” I asked when she didn’t follow.

  “I just showered earlier. And I’ve got to make some quick phone calls. Once you’re done, I’ll be ready and waiting for you.” She gave me one of her radiant smiles, and my heart fluttered.

  I tried to hurry though the shower, but wanted to make sure I was clean for Amanda, so scrubbed a couple of times between my legs.

  Amanda was just getting off the phone when I came out of the shower.

  She pulled the towel off me, then kissed me hard, her tongue filling my mouth and her hands roving over my body, rolling my nipples between her fingers, then brushing her palm against my thighs.

  She pulled away, then grabbed one of my nipples with her fingers and used that to lead me to the bedroom. She pushed me down on the bed; I fell easily as I was too intoxicated with her to stand upright.

  “Have you ever used one of these?” she asked as she threw something long and purple on the bed beside me. “Of course not,” she answered her own question. “You were a virgin when you met me.” She smiled at me.

  “What is it?” I asked. It was some kind of deep purple rubber and it looked like—I looked closer—it looked like a man’s thing.

  “A dildo, a strap-on, a dyke dick.”

  “But why would you want to do that?” I asked, puzzled. “I like your fingers just fine.”

  “Because when I have this on, it rubs against my clit while I’m fucking you, so we both feel good.” She was taking off her clothes and I watched, mesmerized. She was so beautiful. She looked right at me, her green eyes sparkling. “Hey, kiddo, I’m blowing your world, aren’t I?”

  “No. No, of course not. It’s just that…just that…I’m new to…”

  She was naked. As she slid in bed beside me she said, “We can go slow. Or even just do what we’ve been doing. I want to make this good for you.” Her fingers gently circled my nipples. “Or we could try it. I’ll have to make sure you’re really hot and ready.” Her mouth followed her fingers.

  I didn’t even answer; what she was doing was too distracting for me to form words. She even kissed me between the legs, a long soulful kiss that got me close to co
ming.

  “Not yet, baby,” she murmured when she stopped kissing me, “not until I’m inside you.”

  Yes, of course she could be inside me, Amanda could do anything she wanted to me. I didn’t even need to say it; she could so easily see it on my face.

  Then she was on top of me and something was entering me. It was big and compared to her warmth, cold. I felt stretched tight, but I could see in her face that she was enjoying herself.

  She pushed deep into me, then said, “Your clit needs some attention, doesn’t it? I’m being a selfish pig and enjoying how hot it feels to be this far in you and forgetting some important things.” Her fingers slid down my side and she pulled out enough for her hand to get between us. Then she was kissing me and her fingers were rubbing right where it felt good.

  I had to trust Amanda, know that she would take care of me, and I had to give her as much of myself as I could. I was quickly bucking and thrashing under her, breaking our kiss because I couldn’t hold it.

  “Come for me, c’mon, baby, come for me,” she crooned in my ear and I exploded.

  “I love when you come, you make me so hot, I need it now,” and she was pushing in and out of me hard. It felt good and a little bit painful, but even if I wanted to protest, I was too spent from her making love to me to get a single word out. She grabbed my hands and held me down as she reared back and into me. Amanda was inside me and she was coming and I knew right then I would do anything to have her on top of me and taking her pleasure from me.

  She finally pulled out and rolled off me. “You’re amazing,” she said. “Wow, there’s a little bit of blood. You really are a virgin.”

  “It’s okay,” I brushed it off. “And I’m not one anymore.”

  She wrapped her arms around me and said, “You have to let me know if I ever hurt you, okay? Sometimes we can take more when we’re in the midst of sex then at other times.”

  “I’m okay,” I reassured her. “I liked it. I liked it a lot.” There was nothing Amanda could ever do to hurt me.

  She let me spend the night, neither of us had classes until the afternoon.

  Next week Amanda let me deliver another bag for her. I was happy to help her in her important work. And again, after the delivery, she let me come home with her. That was the best part. She was such a goddess, at times I wondered what she saw in me. But clearly she liked what she saw as she kept inviting me back.

  The next time I delivered the bag, Smiley told me that things had changed, that it would have to be half the usual as there were some difficulties. That didn’t sound good, so I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I delivered his message to Amanda.

  “Half the—what the fuck?” was her response. “That slime ball. That fucking slime ball.”

  “What’s the matter? Is there anything I can do?”

  She gave me a quick smile. “No, just the usual social work hassles. You go shower and let me make some phone calls. I’m going to need some stress reduction in a few minutes.”

  I came out of the shower in time to hear the tail end of her conversation. “Yes, I know.” A pause. “I know.” Another pause. “I don’t know, I’ll think of something.” A pause. “I understand. I’ll take care of it.” As she put the phone down she looked at me. “How much of that did you hear?”

  “Not much. I just got out.” I ruffled my hair to indicate how wet it still was.

  “Okay, good.” Then she added, “I don’t want to worry you, you’ve been so good to me.” She playfully ran her fingers through my hair. “Dripping wet, little girl.” She grabbed me by the hips and pulled me to her. “Time to get some other things wet as well.”

  Then it was a flurry of her hands, kissing me, fondling me, a pinch, a lick. We finally slowed enough to make it to the bedroom.

  “I really need to fuck you and fuck you hard. Is that okay?” Amanda asked.

  “I like you fucking me,” I told her, enjoying how easily I said the word.

  She quickly fastened the harness, then looked at me and said, “Let’s do something different. Turn over.”

  I rolled over onto my stomach. She knelt between my legs, then pulled me by the waist until I was on my knees. “We’re going to do it from behind,” she whispered in my ear. She grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under my stomach.

  Her hands seized my thighs, then a rough massage up to my hips and butt cheeks.

  “Ever been fucked in the ass?” she asked. I started to say no, but I was face-down and it came out as a muffled groan. However, she answered, “Of course not, you weren’t even fucked in the cunt when I met you.” I felt the cool rubber against my thigh, and she grabbed my ass cheeks and spread them open. “You’ve got a beautiful, tight little butthole. Someone should plow it for you.”

  “I don’t think…” But she placed a hand on my back and using her weight, pushed me down.

  “I like fucking virgins,” she said in a low whisper.

  Then she took her big dick and shoved it in me.

  In my cunt.

  I screamed, partly pleasure, mostly relief.

  With the rhythm of her pumping she said, “It feels good because you were scared. Heightened emotions—done the right way—can make sex really good. I wouldn’t shove a big cock in your ass.” She buried herself in my cunt and wrapped her arms around me, cupping my breasts, and said in a seductive low voice, “That has to be done right, slowly. A small butt plug to open you up, working up to bigger ones until you’re ready to be fucked. You’re going to let me do that to you some day, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” I mumbled against the sheets.

  “What? I can’t hear you,” she crooned in my ear.

  “Yes! Yes! I love you so much you can do anything you want to me.”

  “Megan, you know I won’t hurt you, maybe push your good-girl limits a bit, but I’ll never hurt you,” she said as her hand moved from my breast to between my legs and she took me to heaven. She even made me come again without stopping.

  The next morning while pedaling to school, I was happier than I’d ever been. A few weeks ago, I had been a shy, nerdy girl, stuck with being smart because I couldn’t be anything else. Now I was a ripe, sexually adventurous woman, one who could do things like get fucked in the cunt and even contemplate being fucked in the ass. I had the best girlfriend in the world.

  We saw each other only in class for the rest of the week. She had asked me to be discreet and I obeyed. She didn’t even go out to coffee with her friends, so I couldn’t sit in a corner and steal glances at her when she said something funny or smart.

  This will be over soon. Once she finishes her internship with the homeless she can move on to something that’s more accepting and we wouldn’t have to hide our love, I reminded myself on a lonely Friday night. I was home by myself, eating popcorn and watching something stupid on TV.

  Just as I was getting ready to go to bed at around midnight, the phone rang. Expecting a wrong number I picked it up, but Amanda’s voice greeted me.

  “Megan, I really need your help.”

  “Where are you? What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I don’t have time to explain. Can you meet me in the school parking lot in fifteen minutes?”

  “But what’s going on?”

  “Please, just trust me on this. I’ll explain once this is over.”

  She hung up and I hurriedly dressed and sped to the social work school. It didn’t feel right being out this late riding my bike. It’s Amanda, I reminded myself. She needs me.

  I got there in fourteen minutes.

  She was already waiting for me.

  “I told Smiley to meet us here,” she said. “Park your bike over there so it’s hidden.”

  I did as she instructed. When I returned to her, she opened the trunk of the car and took out one of the usual small duffels. And then she took out a gun.

  “What do we need that for?” I asked. It seemed so out of place.

  “Smiley isn’t thinking, asking us to meet him at this hour,”
Amanda explained. “So we need something to scare people off. I just need you to hold this while I talk to him, then we’ll go back to my place.” She smiled at me.

  I would do anything to go back to her place with her. I could already feel the pulse between my legs.

  “I need you to hold this,” she said as she handed me the gun. “Keep it hidden. I’ll talk to Smiley. Only show the gun if I tell you to, okay?”

  “Yes, of course,” I replied, thinking it was a good thing that it was a little chilly and I was wearing a jacket. Amanda was cold enough to be wearing gloves. First checking to make sure the safety was on, I tucked it in the waistband of my pants. I’d been brought up with guns, being the youngest and only girl with four brothers and a father who liked nothing more than hunting.

  Smiley’s noisy car drowned out any further conversation. He really needed to have that muffler looked at. He pulled up right in front of us and got out.

  “You wanted to talk?” he demanded of Amanda.

  “Half the usual isn’t good enough. And taking an extra month to get it to us isn’t good either. We had a deal. You need to stick to your end of the bargain,” she replied.

  “I got other people breathing down my neck and they get taken care of first. Besides, what are you and your carpet muncher going to do about it? Now give me the bag and maybe I won’t make you wait two months.”

  “If you don’t keep your end of the bargain, I’m not going to keep mine,” Amanda told him.

  I wanted to say, “But what about the homeless people? They need this,” but Amanda knew what she was doing so I needed to follow her lead.

  Smiley spat on the ground. “Fuck this. I got better places to be.” He took an envelope out of his jacket and threw it at her. “One quarter now, and if you behave I’ll give you the rest next month. Now give me the bag.”

  “No. All or no deal.”

  He spat again, then muttered, “You bitch. You’ll regret being this hard to deal with.” He spun on his heel.

  “Now, Megan!” I guess I didn’t move fast enough because she said, “He’s going for his gun!”

  I pulled the pistol out and pointed it at him, just remembering to flick off the safety in case he did pull a gun.