Anonymous

WANDA

CHAPTER I

Wanda came to meet Mr. White in his broken-down real estate agency in Greenwich Village right out of college.

It was a fluke. She needed an apartment before she could go job hunting and the sign over Mr. White's office down in the basement of his building on Christopher Street had that kind of romantic enchantment that tugged at the young girl's heart.

Even before she took the cluttered stone steps down to Mr. White's door, she felt a kind of mood passing over her like a fog, which had something magical in it, but which she could not identify.

It was as if her heart had something even greater to sing about than the fact that she'd graduated at the head of her class and that she looked years younger than her age.

Wanda's eyes were lavender. She had long dark hair and perfectly white, silky skin. She had a long nose, but not all that long, sweet full lips, and a chin with a tiny birth mark on it, which she usually covered up with makeup.

Her breasts were simply glorious. They were ripe and swollen, and very sensitive. She adored her breasts. Often she would expose them to friends and strangers alike. She loved it when her tiny pink nipples hardened and became irritated-even raw sometimes-as they rubbed against her sweater or the fabric of a blouse that was rough.

She also teased her nipples a lot. She was years ahead of her time when she snapped clothespins to them, then jumped up and down in front of the mirror to see how the pins danced obscenely on the swollen tips of her breasts.

Wanda wasn't beyond snapping the clothespins to her cunt lips either. She got the idea from a sadomasochistic magazine her brother had found in somebody's garbage.

For years Wanda kept those faded, wrinkled magazine pages with the lurid photographs. She would also search diligently for more recent copies of these exciting magazines, but was unsuccessful. Often she would use the photograph of the girl with the clothespins hanging from her fleshy cunt lips to inspire her in masturbation.

She would lay naked in bed, spread her legs open to the air and hold the photograph aloft with her hand. With her other hand she would massage the outer folds of her cunt while staring at the picture. As her pleasure increased, she would pinch the lips of her cunt, imagining her fingers to be clothespins. She would squeeze her clitoris between her two fingers, her eyes ever on the photograph as the heat spread rapidly through her body. It was not so much the idea of the pain of the woman in the photograph that aroused her. It was the image of herself, which she superimposed in her mind over the woman on the page. She imagined it was herself posing obscenely for the camera, her legs spread wide, her cunt clasped by clothespins. It was not difficult to imagine as she squeezed her clitoris, rubbing it back and forth between her fingers. She could picture it clearly in her mind.

When she was not in the position to be alone with her fantasies, she liked to hide them beneath her skirts in a manner of speaking. One of the things that gave Wanda great pleasure was wearing silk stockings held up by soft, but firm, leather garters. It was particularly pleasurable to wear the garters at the very apex of her thighs, where their tops rubbed against her cunt in certain positions. All she had to do was rub her thighs together, which could be managed in practically every position in which she found herself, sitting or standing, and she would feel the soft, warm leather insinuating itself into her cotton panties, creating the most arousing sensations. This feeling, coupled with the fact that she was in public, often gave her small tremors, which were the beginnings of an orgasm.

As she sat in a dark, rather threatening room, waiting for Mr. White to come out of the living quarters behind his office, she imagined the leather wrapped around the tender flesh of her thighs and pressed her legs together. She could feel the edges of it cutting softly into her cunt. The image of the leather wrapped around her flesh aroused her.

"I'll be right with you, Madam,” he had called out after she had closed the office door with its pleasant tinkling bell behind her.

Wanda wondered how he'd known to address her as “Madam.” Then a concealed reflecting mirror caught her eye.

Mr. White had a pleasant voice. Wanda thought he sounded like an educated, sophisticated, even worldly, middle-aged man. She imagined him to be handsome with aristocratic sideburns, sculpted features and a shock of dark brown curly hair. Perhaps he even had a romantic moustache, she thought.

She smoothed down her skirt and, making sure she wasn't observed, slid one hand up inside her skirt between her parted thighs to readjust the garters. Instead of pulling them down to where they fit more properly around her thighs, she pulled them upwards slightly, so that they moved into her cunt more tightly. Then, glancing around her, she moved the strip of soft but firm leather against her clitoris and rubbed it there.

Crossing her legs, she rocked back and forth slightly in order to feel the garters moving across her cunt. Depending upon her position, the edges either came together as if they were taking hold of her clitoris and pinching it slightly, or the edge of one garter rubbed against her aroused, hard clitoris, while the other cut into her flesh. In her current position, her clitoris was pinched, as she rocked back and forth so that the edges moved against one another like two fingers.

Then Mr. White appeared.

"Oh God,” she exclaimed to herself, half-aloud. But Mr. White heard it-that was for certain.

"Did you say something, Madam?” He was a huge man, a veritable giant with a white beard and hair flowing to his shoulders.

Mr. White wore a wide handlebar moustache and cowboy boots.

"Why no, sir,” Wanda replied.

Mr. White cleared his throat as he sat down behind a huge, cluttered desk.

"Thought I heard you take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” he said grumpily as he made himself comfortable. “Thought I did."

"No sir,” she said. She was sorry she'd reacted so violently to his appearance. It was just that she had imagined him so differently. Her garters were still coming together over the surface of her cunt, exciting her.

He placed his hands behind his bull neck, exercising his eyes by opening and closing them, and cleared his throat again.

"So, Madam, what can I do for you this fine summer morning?” He was gruff, with the voice and manner of a giant.

"I'm looking for a two-room apartment in the neighborhood,” Wanda replied sweetly, turning on the charm. She showed her white, even teeth and subtly moved her upper body just enough to give sway to her ample breasts, which began to undulate in a rhythm no eye could miss.

"Ah, so,” he rejoined. “In our little neighborhood here?"

"Yes sir, preferably not far from the subway on Sixth Avenue. You see, I am going to get a job and I will need convenient transportation.” She smiled beautifully, showing a gleam in her lovely soft eyes, “If it's possible, I would like something on this street or the next street. Maybe you have something vacant there?"

"Hmm… you don't have a job?"

"No. But don't you worry, Mr. White. You are Mr. White, aren't you, sir?” He nodded and closed his eyes. She was going to tell him she was independently wealthy.

"You see, sir, I have a lot of money and I always pay my way.” With this, she uncrossed her long, nyloned legs and gave him just a tiny flash of the silky white skin above the expensive stockings she'd bought. She wondered if he'd caught a glimpse of her garters.

Wanda didn't know why she felt the need to wear this clothing to go apartment hunting, but here she was. Her skirt flashed open a bit wider than she had anticipated. Mr. White not only saw the lovely smooth flesh above her stocking top, he saw the inside of her milky white thigh and her pale yellow panties, as well as a dark brown strip of something around her thighs.

Wanda didn't know that.

"You always pay your way, eh?"

Wanda saw him ogling her exposed legs and blushed. She recrossed her knees and leaned forward. The blouse she wore opened down to the third unbuttoned button and Mr. White had a wonderful view of Wanda's gorgeous breasts. They were swollen and plump, and looked as silky smooth as her inner thighs.

"I mean, there's no question that I will have a job by the time next month's rent is due. I have one month's rent and two month's security, if you will accept that. I also have a bank account with over one thousand dollars in it, sir."

"Over, one thousand?"

"Yes. Well over."

Mr. White sat back. His prick was thickening inside his trousers. It'd been a long while since he'd had a client quite as beautiful as this one. He pressed his thick fingers over his throbbing penis and pushed it down between his thighs. Then he passed Wanda an application.

"You go sit over there at that desk,” he told her in a firm but not unfriendly voice. “Fill out the application. I'll be with your shortly. Got a little somethin’ to do back in my quarters,” he said.

"Oh, you live down here in this cellar?"

Mr. White looked up sharply, and frowned. “Eh? Oh yes. I do. It's not a cellar, however.” With this, he disappeared behind the velvet curtains through which she'd seen him enter.

She went to the desk and turned on a lamp. A soft golden light glowed from the desk lamp, contrasting with a florescent lamp about it, which had a pleasant purple glow.

The chair on which she sat was lower than most and the position was not all that comfortable. She did some adjusting before she settled down.

Wanda was astonished at how long the application was and at the top, she saw the bold print: ANSWER EVERY QUESTION. It would take fifteen minutes or more, she thought, as she busied herself.

Behind the wall along which Wanda sat was Mr. White. He sat in a chair facing the wall. He was stark naked and jerking off his cock evenly and smoothly. He had a marvelous, perfectly clear view of Wanda's legs. The one-way mirror, aided by the magic of the fluorescent lamp and the reflecting golden glow, presented a dazzling view of Wanda's legs. As she became more and more uncomfortable sitting there and filling in the answers, she fidgeted, twisted, squirmed. Each time she did, more and more of her lovely silken legs came into view. When the heat in the curiously unventilated room began to get to her, she hoisted her skirt high up to expose her panties and the plump mound of her gorgeous cunt.

Mr. White was grinning to himself. As the moments passed, he saw Wanda dip her hand down inside her blouse to tickle and squeeze her nipples. She even pulled the blouse down to peer at them in all their naked splendor.

Mr. White could see Wanda fingering her cunt through her panties. She ran her finger over the surface of them, as if the panties were a balm that she was rubbing into her flesh, and she poked her finger into her cunt, pushing the fabric of the panties between her folds. And then she spread her thighs wide, to Mr. White's extreme astonishment and joy, and pulled the edge of her panties to the side of her inner thigh. She stuck two fingers into her open cunt and withdrew them, tasting them. He could see the leather bands wrapped around her thighs as she ran her fingers along them, caressing them as she closed her eyes. He'd never seen anything like it before.

He snorted and got down on his knees in order to get a closer look at her cunt and inner thighs. He held tightly to his cock and pumped his hand up and down the length of it, all the while staring at the lovely sight of her open legs. He thought of what it would be like to put his cock there, to have it resting against her silky flesh, to have it rubbing the leather garters, which he could see clearly now. He wanted to thrust it into her wet cunt. He masturbated himself on his hands and knees, while she continued to fill out the application and finger herself.

CHAPTER II

When Wanda came to the last question, which asked for references from people outside of her intimate family, she filled in all the lines but one. She wanted to use Alice Long's name but wasn't sure that Alice would reply if Mr. White wrote to her for a reference. Alice was probably still mad.

The longer she pondered listing Alice's name, the more engrossed she became in memories of her. The memories were so powerful, so fresh in her mind that just thinking about them was like stepping back into her recent past.

Alice Long was a middle-aged dowager of great wealth. She was as beautiful as she was withdrawn. She lived in Greenwich Village on West Ninth Street in a lovely-and very expensive-three-story brownstone.

Wanda had met Mrs. Long, as she called herself, at the graduation ceremonies of her college. Mrs. Long was an alumna and a sponsor of several girls majoring in history, of whom Wanda was the most promising.

The two women had liked each other immensely from the beginning. Wanda found Mrs. Long ("please call me Alice, won't you, Wanda?") pleasant, inspiring and an excellent conversationalist. She also found her terribly sexy and exciting.

Wanda, try as she did, was unable to deny the wild sensations that flowed over her body at the mere thought of being intimate with Mrs. Long… with Alice.

Wanda noticed that, in Alice's presence, her breasts and her cunt reacted strongly. Especially in their last week together on campus.

Once, when they were both traveling to a meeting of the graduates in an inn downtown from the university, they were seated quite close together in the back seat of the car. Wanda's elbow had more than once casually and, of course, accidentally brushed across the sloping curve of Alice's firm, almost pointed breast. Alice had looked at Wanda from the corner of her eyes only to catch her looking back. Both grinned.

On another occasion that very week, Alice visited Wanda in her dormitory. She had come a little early, and had the opportunity to catch Wanda in her panties and brassiere.

"Oh,” Alice said, making a circle of her lips, “you've a lovely body, m'dear."

"Why, thank you,” Wanda replied demurely, half-blushing. She felt Alice's penetrating eyes as they lingered on the flesh-colored bra, which cupped two perfectly molded, virginal breasts, whose delectable nipples were visible through the transparent material of the sexy brassiere. Alice's eyes moved slowly down to gaze on Wanda's pubic mound.

"Really, dear, it's delicious,” Alice Long repeated before sitting down on the little couch in Wanda's private room.

"You really think so?"

"Oh yes… but yes. When I was your age, Wanda, and honestly,” she laughed softly, “it wasn't all that long ago, though I make it sound as if it were, my body was nearly as perfect. Especially my breasts."

Wanda's eyes moved slowly over Mrs. Long's breasts, which were concealed under the black silk dress she wore. The bodice of the dress molded her firm, swollen breasts and emphasized their magnificent proportions. They were larger than Wanda's.

"They're still very attractive,” said Wanda, licking her lips.

"Well,” said Mrs. Long, “I don't mean to say that they have fallen apart altogether,” she smiled, cupping her breasts with both hands and massaging them gently.

"They certainly haven't."

Mrs. Long shifted uncomfortably in her position on the couch. Her skirt, so silky, slid up to expose a good expanse of nyloned leg above her perfect knees.

"And your legs are lovely,” Wanda said, now sitting on the edge of the bed. Wanda was making no further effort to dress. After all, there was really no hurry.

"Are they? Oh, do you really think so, dear?"

"Oh yes.” Wanda stretched out her long slender legs. Of course, they were bare as were her little feet, her tiny toes painted bright scarlet red.

"I like yours, too,” said Alice, smiling as Wanda wiggled her toes. “They're strong and healthy,” she added.

"Oh yes. I love to run. I like my legs. I really do,” she said. She stood and turned to show the back of her long curvy legs and ankles to Mrs. Long.

"Oh, I love your bottom,” Mrs. Long crooned. “You have a heavenly ass, Wanda,” she laughed softly, “if you don't mind my using the word ‘ass.’”

Wanda laughed. “No. Don't be silly. I love the word. It's so explicit,” she said. Wanda turned and sat down on the bed again, this time drawing up one knee to clasp it with both hands as she began to sway lazily back and forth.

Alice Long's eyes began to turn misty and liquid as she stared at Wanda's body. Wanda's luscious breasts were undulating in a quiet sexy rhythm inside her tight brassiere.

The mound between her thighs, which Mrs. Long could plainly see, seemed more plump than ever. Alice Long could see the delicious crease, the split between Wanda's pussy-lips, the slight, curly tendrils of cunt hair sticking from the panty edge.

Alice's eyes seemed glued to Wanda's crotch and Wanda could feel the warmth spreading there as they looked quite candidly, between her white, silky thighs.

It made Wanda a bit nervous and she felt herself flushing. Suddenly, Mrs. Alice Long closed her eyes and shuddered, the spell she'd cast seeming to evaporate.

"Wanda, dear, my I ask you a serious question?"

Wanda smiled and lay back on the bed, raising both dimpled knees. Now her lovely bottom, encased in pale yellow clinging panties, which provocatively outlined and molded Wanda's adorable crotch, was never more attractive.

Wanda crossed one knee over the other and then clasped her hands behind her neck to raise her head up a bit. She looked over at Alice Long and saw that the older woman was quite flushed. She was breathing heavily now. Her large breasts were moving inside the silky dress and Wanda was certain she could see Mrs. Long's nipples becoming excited.

"Of course you may ask me any thing, Mrs. Long, I mean, Alice,” she corrected herself. “After all, you are my sponsor. And I'm so grateful to you… for everything."