In August Gina had another excursion for us, but that would not be a transit trip. Her kinky guy-friend Richie owned a car, and he was going to take all three of us on a road trip up to Bear Mountain State Park. That was located on the far side of the Hudson River almost fifty miles from New York.

She said to us, “We don’t have to go there on one of those Red and Tan Buses. He’ll just take us door to door, or door to forest, you might say.” The transit option would have required us to go to the bus station in Washington Heights, and then take a pokey journey up two-lane Route 9W. 

Going by car seemed like the height of luxury to a city girl like me. I was old enough to get a learner’s permit license, but the restrictions on using that were pretty onerous. I couldn’t even be in the vehicle by myself. My family was the only one of us three that had a car, but it was pretty clear that I wasn’t going to get access to it until I was at least eighteen and could get a formal adult license.

On the appointed day, Richie picked us up in front of my building. The big surprise was his car: a 1967 Pontiac GTO with a four-speed manual transmission. That had been considered one of the major “muscle cars” of the 1960’s when it had been introduced. Gina got in the front next to him, and Jenny and I got in the back.

Richie drove rather sedately despite having such a powerful vehicle. He and Gina spoke readily during the trip, but their conversation was more like one between friends. The intense sexuality of their earlier BDSM scene was lacking, almost as if it had never happened.

He talked about the work he had done on the car himself to get it running again. He said, “It was nearly five years old when I got it, and it had been pretty well worn at that point. It had over 90,000 miles on it.”

Gina must have picked up some car knowledge from him because she used some mechanical terminology I didn’t know and had never heard her use before. I decided to ask him what positraction meant. Instead of saying, girls wouldn’t get it, he said, “I can explain it if you wish.”

And he did. I didn’t know what a differential was, but I got the idea that it was what connected the drive shaft to the rear axle. What they were referring to meant that it the rear wheels were “limited-slip” and made the car more drivable on snow and ice.

It was pleasant to ride out of the city along the parkways and highways up to the Tappan Zee Bridge. The front vent windows were open, letting the warm air into where I was sitting. Jenny and I were fairly quiet in the back, but we were enjoying the view outside. I was particularly impressed by the very long bridge over the widest part of the Hudson; I had probably been over it only a couple of times in my life.

I didn’t know anything about manual transmissions, and I occasionally watched Richie operate the floor-mounted shifter between the front seats. He had to use it frequently during the beginning of the trip as we went through city streets. Then, on the highway, he mostly left it in one position, which I later found out was the fourth or top gear.

Overall, I was reminded of Natalie Wood in Rebel Without a Cause. Being driven around by a guy in a powerful car must have made her panties damp, like was also happening to me on that trip. (Although Richie was inscrutable to me, he seemed to lack James Dean’s angst.) Why doesn’t Gina just get truly serious with him already? What is she looking for?

On the other hand, what is he looking for? This guy could have any girl he wanted, so what was with this bizarre relationship with my friend?

There was a very nice swimming pool up there, located at the bottom of a ravine, and the bathhouse was built into the side of a cliff. We all spent a couple of hours frolicking in the water. I sometimes glanced to see if Richie was noticing me in my blue two-piece suit, and he wasn’t. I was a bit miffed at being ignored by that guy I hardly knew. Swimming always made me feel aroused, and the contrast between the warm air and the cold water gave me tingles.

I was the only one of the three of us who hadn’t touched Richie during that basement session, but he was also the only guy I had ever seen ejaculate. We had shared a weird kind of visual sexual experience and I had masturbated a few times since then imagining him as my partner. Since I was physically small, I had pictured myself on top, say on the basement couch. At the pool that fantasy returned to me, and I couldn’t get it out of my head.

We had packed a cooler with our lunches, but Gina wasn’t happy with simply sitting on the grass next to the lake. She glanced up at the hill on the other side – it looked like a mountain to my urban eyes – and said, “Let’s find a place up there somewhere.”

The woods were different from a city park, and the terrain up there seemed pretty wild to me. We found a clearing where we could spread out a blanket and eat. Immediately after lunch, Richie brought out two joints for us. Where does this guy get his drugs? Is he a dealer perhaps?

We three girls shared part of the first one. Richie was sensible enough to stay clear-headed because he would have to drive later. But my friends and I were getting quite stoned, even if we could still talk. Mostly I liked sitting there observing nature in the raw. It might as well have been Glacier Park in Montana to me, although at least there were no grizzly bears in New York State.

But then why was it called Bear Mountain? There had to be some reason for the name, right? For a few minutes, I was paranoid about whatever one of those big mammals might be around.

By then I was trying to follow whatever Gina and Jenny were saying, while Richie was sitting a little off to the right, drinking a soda. He seemed amused by the three of us. That’s when the pot-induced sexual desire hit me, and I was pondering our male companion.

Hey, you got three females here, why don’t you take us all on right here on the blanket? Imagery of different combinations occurred to me. At one point I fantasized again about being on top of him as we screwed; Jenny presented her rear to my face so I could lick her. Oh, Chloe, this is a real panty-dampening fantasy, that’s for sure. You’ve barely started with Chris, yet you are now being unfaithful in your heart.                 

Then Jenny did something very different from her usual low-key behavior. She took out a black marking pen and said to Gina, “Hey, get on your hands and knees. I want to write something on you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Take your shorts off. I want to write on your skin.”

That was too much even for Gina, and she glanced nervously at Richie. He just smiled and shrugged.

Jenny was impatient. “Come on, obviously you can keep your panties on.”

Gina was confused for a moment, then she said, “All right, whatever you want. This had better be good.”

She removed her shorts and got into position with her ass in the air. Her panties were fairly skimpy, and Jenny pulled them up further into a wedgie. Gina’s behind was pale above her tan line. It was perfect for Jenny to write Kiss on her friend’s left butt cheek and This on the right one.

“What did you do back there? Richie, what did she write on me?”

He smiled, “This is between the two of you. I’ll not going to tell you.”

Jenny was eager to do more. “Hold still. I got something else for you.”

“Okay, okay, do it already.

Jenny carefully wrote on the back of Gina’s left thigh, This ass isn’t going to spank itself. Then she had a fit of giggling.

“Hey, what have you put on me? I don’t have a mirror.” Gina looked back at me, “Chloe, for God’s sake tell me what it says.”

It seemed that the prank had gone on long enough, so I told her. She replied, “Oh, that’s just so fucking clever.” Oddly, the pot hadn’t mellowed her as I had expected. She got on her side and was quite nasty to Jenny.

“I ought to write on you, insert penis here, and draw an arrow to your asshole.”

Jenny looked shocked, and Richie intervened. “Hey, that’s a bit much. Come on ladies, play nice with each other. Maybe you all need a couple more puffs to calm down.”

Maybe that helped because Gina didn’t try to erase the markings as she got her shorts back on. For the rest of the day, the words spank itself remained visible below the hem but she didn’t notice and I wasn’t going to mention it. Anyway, even though she didn’t apologize for her remark to Jenny, the latter never mentioned it again.

We remained up there for at least another hour, although I lost track of time. Eventually, it was time to head back downhill. It seemed that we were on that trek for a while, and I forgot about the glories of nature. Instead, I was paranoid about snakes that time, not bears. I asked Richie if there were any around. “I’m sure there are some. The ones you’ve got to watch for are rattlers.”

I wasn’t dressed properly for hiking in the forest. For one thing, I needed a decent pair of boots, not sandals. Also, the bare skin of my arms and legs got scratched as I stumbled through the undergrowth. It seemed like we might be lost, but I figured that if kept going downhill, we’d inevitably get back to the lake. We came out at a different spot than we had entered, but I was relieved to see other people in the area.

You should have been in the Girl Scouts back in the day; you’re not much of an outdoorsy kind of a chick. My two friends had never joined either. Our idea of a forest was the area on the far side of the Bronx River. The wilderness, even in a state park, could be daunting.

The present batch of pot was affecting my emotions differently from the earlier one. I didn’t realize that illegal drugs could vary a lot according to content and potency. As we were driving out of the parking lot, a sense of paranoia came back. I remembered that Gina had the second joint in her purse. I fretted, “What are we going to do if the cops stop us?”

Richie said, “Calm down, everything is going to be okay. You’ve seen that I drive pretty carefully.”

“But maybe they’ll stop the car merely because it’s a GTO with four young people in it.”

Gina was annoyed at me. “All right Chloe, we’ll stop and stow this – in the trunk I guess?”

Richie said, “That’s a good idea. They have to have probable cause to search the car. I don’t think they would do that.”

After we pulled over, we opened the trunk and looked around. Gina lifted the floor panel and looked at the spare tire. She took the wallet out of her purse which held the contraband. “Under here looks pretty good.”

Richie said, “They’re not going to have drug-sniffing dogs, that’s for sure.”

When we were back in the car, he turned to look us over after he had started the engine. “Chloe, since you’re so nervous about this – look, on the slim chance we are stopped, they will talk to me. You don’t have to say anything.”

I attempted a joke, “Maybe they’ll think you’re violating the Mann Act.”

Gina shook her head. “Oh please! All right, let’s go already.”

My mood changed again, and I was having romantic thoughts about my seatmate Jenny. She was receptive to my advances, and within a few minutes, we were having a passionate make-out session. Gina looked at us and said, tongue-in-cheek I think, “You’re not supposed to do that in the back seat when there are people in the front.”

I giggled. “I’d like to get down with her on the floor but there is this bump in the way.”

The two in the front answered simultaneously. He said, “That’s the driveshaft hump” and she said, “What, are you planning to lick her?” Then Richie chided me. “Relax Chloe, you’ve got to rein yourself in a bit.”

I almost said, I’ve been a very bad girl, I need a spanking, but I didn’t. I was causing enough trouble on that return journey already.

****

I had no idea what was going to happen when we arrived back in New York. Gina asked that we be dropped off at an intersection several blocks from my house. After she had retrieved her wallet, she said goodbye to Richie, who didn’t seem to mind that his part of the day had ended.

I got out on the left side, and I was still feeling frisky. I blew a kiss to Richie and winked at him. I was thinking, I’m going to be fantasizing about you tonight, but I kept that to myself.

When the car was gone, Gina said, “Look, it’s time that I finish consummating my relationship with Jenny.” She addressed me. “I mean physically. So Chloe, we’re going down in the basement, but we need some privacy just like you did. Is that okay with you, that we just leave you now?”

I couldn’t argue against that, so I agreed. “Sure, I understand.” And yet when they left me there on the corner, I felt at loose ends.

As I walked around for a while, just to have something to do, I realized that we were all three years younger than Richie. We imagined ourselves to be mature women, but in his eyes, we were likely just high school girls. He had compartmentalized us. We were suitable for his kinky games, but not for any serious romantic or sexual activity.

******

When I went to my room that night, I had to release that sexual energy I had built up during the course of the day. I had plenty to inspire my imagination. People would be amazed at what sixteen-year-old females are capable of. (At that moment I refused to think of myself as a girl.)

I still had half of my first joint from the one Gina had given me on that earlier day. It was in a bottle in my dresser drawer. As I had done before, I smoked it while leaning out the window. Then I sat on my bed and I lifted my sleeveless nightgown above my waist. After that, I went at myself with my fingers and brush handle.

Instead of going back to the “wilderness” at Bear Mountain, I set my scenario in my comfortable if somewhat shabby basement hideout. Otherwise, the plot was similar. I mounted Richie cowgirl style on the floor while Jenny presented her bare underside for me to lick. Thinking all that resulted in a powerful orgasm for me, and I gritted my teeth to avoid yelling.

Then I imagined that Gina pushed open the door – why hadn’t I locked it? – and she caught us just as we were recovering from our bout of sex. She was wearing her gray business suit, and she went into aggrieved teacher/adult mode. Chloe, Jenny I’m dismayed by your shameful behavior. You’re both going to be punished to teach you a lesson and to make sure you don’t do anything like this again. Present you rear ends for my discipline.

For some reason, Richie was dismissed (fantasies can have gaps in time and logic), while Jenny and I bent over each end of the couch. Gina was going to spank our bare behinds, and I came long before Gina was finished with me. My orgasm that time was at least as strong as the one during my first fantasy.

Then I relaxed in the afterglow. For some reason, maybe because of the influence of the drug, my Catholic guilt got to me again. I enjoyed imagining a complete confession because I had so many juicy details to reveal.

Bless me Father, for I have sinned. Ah, do you know anything about BDSM? It stands for Bondage-Discipline-Sadomasochism. Yes, I’ve started thinking about that during masturbation. Sometimes I want to be dominant, sometimes submissive, maybe even with the same person. I know, I've been a bad girl for masturbating, but I have to confess the particulars here.

You see Father, I want an outfit for my dominant phase. I want to be a real mean bitch teacher. I’d have a blue or grey suit, and I’d vigorously swing a paddle on naughty student’s backsides.

As a submissive, I’d like to be a schoolgirl with white knee socks, one of those little blue warm-weather skirts, and modest white panties. I’d offer my rear for punishment by someone, maybe my friend Gina, or this guy Richie, or one of my teachers at the Dexter Academy. Either a male or a female teacher would do.

I had no trouble picturing myself over the lap of my female history teacher. My grades weren’t up to par, although in reality, that was one of my best subjects.

What, how many Hail Mary’s do I have to say? I’ll be at that all week! I know, you have to spank me too. Please do it really hard so I can be a good girl again; I deserve every whack.

My mind wandered back to the dogma I once learned from the Church. I didn’t believe it any longer, but neither was I a true atheist. Why had God given us a clitoris and other sensitive parts if we weren’t supposed to have pleasure? And wasn’t the flesh of our behinds there to be firmly corrected when we were naughty? It was even mentioned several times in the Bible.

Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him. – Proverbs 22.15.

But what happens if the rod of discipline results in erections and wet vaginas, perhaps for both the spanker and the spankee?

The ways of God certainly seemed mysterious, and I was in no condition to think about it further. I was so tired that I lay back and instantly fell asleep. I didn’t even think of pulling my nightgown back down. God had also given me pubic hair, so I let that be visible during the night.

*****

A couple of days later, Gina came to talk to me in the park. She was very excited about something.

“I was behind the counter at work, and who comes in but Nancy Orshan from Evander. You remember, the girl with the revealing halter top.”

“Okay, I remember that. She has a boyfriend named John, right?”

Gina just kept talking. “So she knew who I was! She said, ‘Hi, you’re Gina Pucci from my English class last year.’ So I said something like, ‘You’re Nancy, I know you too. I think this is the first time we’ve ever spoken.’ And no, she wasn’t wearing a halter.”

I quickly caught on that Gina was impressed by her classmate, and normally she wasn’t impressed by anybody. But that time she was all aflutter that one of the cool girls at Evander knew who she was.

As Gina went on about that person, something else struck me. I’ve always been attentive to the feelings of other people, and I had gotten even better at it during my close relationships with my two friends. It occurred to me, I think Gina is attracted to this girl and her sometimes visible boobs.

Then she just had to mention that she had discussed me and Jenny. “Nancy knows Jenny too! And I told her that you live in the neighborhood but you go to school downtown. However, I mentioned the bakery where you work.”

I thought, I hope Nancy doesn’t show up there.

******

Then the very next afternoon, a girl walked into my bakery and said, “You must be Chloe. Your friend Gina mentioned you. I’m Nancy, I go to school with her at Evander.”

Maybe I sounded a bit abrupt. “Yes, she has talked about you before.”

She smiled and said, “Only good things, I hope.” Yeah, mainly how you flaunt your body to arouse your classmates.

I took a moment to assess that Nancy person. Her brown hair was short for the era, and she was slender and several inches taller than I was. That would make her about five-seven. She was attractive but not head-turning gorgeous. Yet she projected an air of confidence that I and my two friends could not easily do.

She seemed friendly rather than arrogant, yet I knew I was in the presence of one of those popular girls who I always found so intimidating. I briefly pondered how I looked with my green uniform, white apron, black knee socks, and sneakers. Kind of dowdy, perhaps. My insecurities got to me. Chloe, you’re already turning into an old Italian lady.

Nancy didn’t linger there for long. “I know you’re busy right now. How about meeting me later so we can chat?”

About what? I didn’t like how she had just met me and now she was inviting herself into a longer conversation with me. I tried to hide my lack of enthusiasm, but I felt obligated not to be rude. We agreed to meet later at the old foundations in the park.

She responded, “That sounds great. I know where that is.” There was something about her that bugged me but I couldn’t quite define what it was. When she turned to leave, I had an urge to smack the slim seat of her blue jeans. That brought a smile to my face and I felt a bit better.     

Well, your need to be polite, instilled in you by my parents, has resulted in this. You have to meet her, but maybe you can make it brief.

****

Nancy was already there when I arrived at the park after work. She seemed genuinely glad to see me, although I couldn’t be absolutely sure if I was correct. I guessed that she had some agenda that I couldn’t grasp. Why would she care anything about me?

I was still wearing my bakery uniform, but at least I didn’t have that silly round hat on. We started by chatting about something inconsequential, namely the origin of the factory foundations. I knew the story about that.

“It was a tapestry factory, of all things, built in the nineteenth century by this guy named William Baumgarten.”

Nancy shortly got to the topic that really interested her. “Gina told me that you’ve got a sort of clubhouse in a room in the basement of your building. I mean, you and Jenny go down there with her.”

“She really said that?” I was shocked that Gina had so readily revealed our secret to that annoying smartass. Richie was different because we girls had dominated him in that room. That Nancy, however; I didn’t trust her. Sure enough, she asked, “So what do you all do down there?”

I could feel that I was just about to lose control over myself. “We have fun obviously.”

“I bet you do!”

Honey, you have a big mouth, and now I’m going to test you to see how bold you really are. As deadpan as I could make it, I said. “Well, since I live upstairs, I sometimes go there by myself. I mean, it’s perfect if I need some place to masturbate during the daytime.”

Her laugh was like a squeal, mixing delight with surprise. Well, if she can’t take it, she can get up and go right now. But she didn’t go so I went on. “I like to get up on the arm of a couch down there and rub my bare vulva on the cloth until I climax. It feels absolutely wonderful.”

You’ve underestimated me, haven’t you? I’m not the innocent girl you thought I was. I couldn’t decipher her expression exactly, but I had surely discombobulated her. I continued, “That couch has two arms. Come down with me right now and we can whack off together.”

She gave herself away by the nervous way she was wringing her hands. “Do you think that is a good idea?”

I was struck by how calm I was. “It’s a great idea. You see, Ms. Orshan, I think you’re looking for some girl-on-girl action.”

She was probably wondering how I had discerned that. “Well, maybe that’s true, I guess.”

“Maybe? What about that boyfriend of yours, John is his name?”

Then she really gave away a lot. She blurted out, “He doesn’t like the taste of pussy.”

“Well, I certainly do. But first, you’ve got to prove yourself on the couch as I said.” She looked a bit doubtful. I said, “I know you think you’re one of the queens of cool over there. Well, cool girls can handle their own sexuality, right?”

I stood up, and I felt confident and powerful. Yes, me, in my green bakery uniform and black knee socks. “All right, Twentieth-Century Fox, are you coming or not?” I sang one line from the song, “ ‘But she’s no drag, just watch the way she walks.’ ”

I turned to walk, and she got up. She stumbled a bit on the grass, then she fell in next to me. She said, “I think you’re daring me to do this.”

There was a page from Gina’s playbook. “Yes, I am daring you. I want to see if you’re woman enough to handle a whack-off session next to another girl.”

On the way over, I did most of the talking. I repeated the conversation I had with Gina about Mrs. Marchetti and their opinions of hippie girls. Once inside the room, I locked the door from the inside – I mentioned that to Nancy to reassure her.

She looked around. “It’s certainly, ah . . .”

“Cozy? That it is, for sure.” I lifted my dress above my waist, revealing one of my favorite pairs of panties, the see-through blue ones. “So what do you think of my underwear? I like to have provocative underthings beneath my uniform. It makes me feel sexy, not like merely a store clerk.”

I deftly removed my drawers and tossed them aside. “Well, let’s get to it. I’ll take the side to the left.” Then I got up on the sofa arm with my left foot on the floor and my right knee on one cushion.

“What exactly do I do?”

“It’s simple. Take your panties off and get on top of it like I just did. Of course, you have to remove your jeans first. Anyway, I like facing backwards so I can hold on to the rear panel. Then rub your vulva back and forth on the cloth. Believe me, you’ll come pretty quickly and it will be truly lovely.”

She looked doubtful. “That will really work?”

“Yes, Nancy, it will work. I first tried it on the sofa in my apartment when I was alone there.” I got a bit didactic. “You see, I had found out that women have a whole set of sexual organs hidden under our flesh down there. So I experimented to find out what would happen if I stimulated them. And, yes, the experiment succeeded wonderfully. Ah, do any of these details sound familiar to you?”

“I suppose so.”

“Then go ahead, give it a try.” Nancy had modest cotton drawers under her jeans, and she doffed those but kept her sandals on. I noticed her dark pubic bush as she mounted the sofa. We looked at each other and I said, “Just do what I’m doing, and it will all be fine.”

With that, I began sliding my sensitive underside along the rough cloth. In a moment, I put my right hand down to fondle myself while I held on to the back with my left one. It felt great, as I knew it would be. I looked over at Nancy, and I could tell she was enjoying herself too. She had thrown her head back and she had already begun to moan. I encouraged her, “That’s it, honey, give your pussy the workout it needs.”

We said things to each other that I don’t remember, but we had a great time anyway. I liked looking over at her and seeing her slender ass as she vigorously humped the sofa. Trust me, Chloe knows what a girl needs to satisfy herself.

Nancy came first. She was moving faster and faster, and then she leaned back and loudly yelled in pleasure. I commented, “That’s it baby; if you’ve got it, flaunt it!”

Then I climaxed, and just as I did I said one of my usual ridiculous statements. “Oh my God, I’m coming, I’m coming right now!” I didn’t know if Nancy was looking at me or not.

When I was done, I rolled over and wound up sitting on the couch; she did the same thing and sat next to me. As she pulled herself together, she seemed upset. “You really don’t like me much, do you?”

“That is completely not true!” To prove it, I took her hand in mine.

“But I was kind of embarrassed. I mean, you know, I never with someone else . . .”

“Nancy, you were magnificent, a true sexy girl.” I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to me. “You are worthy of being one of us, the Secret Society of the Bronx River Sisterhood.”

“Is that what you call yourselves?”

“I just made that up, but I think it fits. Here, have one of these.”

We had pooled our money to buy a small refrigerator for the room, and Richie had bought us some beer to stock it. I took out a couple of bottles and gave her one. That seemed to placate her a bit. “How did you get these?”

“Gina knows an older guy who buys them for us. You see, we have a pretty good deal going here.” I looked down at my bare thighs. “Hah, I see I’m bottomless, yet I still have my sneakers on.”

“I’m like that too, except I have sandals.”

I pushed against her body, bringing my bare legs in contact with hers`. I said, “Now I know Gina likes you, but I have to talk to her first about what’s going on. As you might have guessed, she is our de facto leader.”

“Do I have to pass some kind of approval?”

“You already passed, honey, with flying colors. It’s mostly a formality, but we’ve all got to talk about some things. Let’s just relax right now and have our beers.” I took her chin in my hand and kissed her. She kissed back.

I was feeling great. There I was, making out with that attractive half-naked girl, and I had taken the lead in how it had all happened. I knew that at a future session, we'd have our mouths on each other’s pussies. I had felt a bit guilty about being a smartass at the beginning, but Nancy and I were by then on good terms. At that moment, life seemed very sweet indeed. 

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