Sam and Tilly In the Beginning

(Part 1 from 1)

An unforgiving summer sun beat its heat down on the city. Blistering sidewalks and streets baked those brave enough to traverse the thoroughfares on foot. The heat waves rising from the roadway made strange ripples in the view and people and buildings seemed to bend and straighten when seen through the rising air. Venturing from work Sam left the gropers, perverts, drunken businessmen, and other strangers behind her. Working in a strip club you put up with a lot of crap – but Samantha didn’t stand for it was the rare stripper that didn’t the protection of a bouncer.

She rode the streets on her big hog Harley and wished she hadn’t worn the helmet. She wanted to feel the hot air rush over her face. She also wished she hadn’t geared up for the ride. Her chaps and jacket protected her from the pavement in case of an accident but cooked her flesh like a pot roast. She traveled a route which she thought was a shortcut but when Sam spotted the parking lot strewn with bikes, pickup trucks, and luxury cars alike she just had to check out the place. Maybe she would see some lovely little girl or a good looking guy that wanted to be abused that night.

Entering the bar, her eyes struggled to adjust to the dim lighting. Even so, this atmosphere was her home. Sam worked in a place not so different to this, only she danced nude there. Holding her leather jacket in one hand and her helmet in another she sauntered up to the bar, “Barkeep, any place safe to store this stuff?”

“Yea, sure, I’ll take it and keep them safe, chaps to if you want.” Sam handed the man the gear then took off the chaps. He looked appreciatively at her tall, muscled body. Marveled at her tight ass covered by the thinnest of material and shortest of black shorts. He ached to see the small breasts and six pack tummy which were covered only with a black ribbed T that clung to her like a second skin. Sam aware of his rubbernecking handed him the chaps, “I don’t like boys.”

“What can I get you?” he ask ducking his eyes away from her. The air of danger hung thick around the woman, he had the distinct impression she could and would hurt him. While he wouldn’t like, that several in the bar would love it. He shot her a tentative glance back at her piercing blue eyes.

“A draft and a shot of Jack,” she drank in the atmosphere of the bar. Bikers, rednecks, and sophisticated talked in their clicks. In the corner sitting alone a young woman appeared to be chasing off one guy after guy. Petite, pretty, and dressed to the nines. It was obvious she was a whore. The men that talked to her must be unwilling meet her price. Then a well-dressed older man walked up to her and started talking. He stood there with this lusty gawking expression as he watched her. The girl, for she was barely more than that, would shake her head. Undaunted he would make a new proposal.

Slamming down the drink Sam walked back to the table. She placed the beer on the table. Gripping the man's wrist she pulled him toward her. “The lady isn’t interested.” He started to complain, but something about her look frightened him. Perhaps it was her cold blue eyes, or the short man’s style haircut she sported, or perhaps the powerful muscles, or conceivably all of it combined to frighten him. He moved away grumbling about lesbos.

“I was in a negotiation,” her anger was apparent. The black girl laid her eyes on Sam for the first time. Her heart missed a beat. All those things that frightened men attracted her. Sam sat down next to her and wrapped her arm around the smaller more feminine woman.

“Negotiations are over for the night,” Sam smiled without waiting lowered her face and kissed the girl. Soft and tender their lips met. Something passed between them. When they broke apart, the younger girl sat speechless her mind whirling. Sam raised her index finger as the waitress approached then pointed her thumb to the black girl.

“Now don’t you look just like ninety pounds of dynamite? I’m Samantha but I go by Sam, and you are?”

“I go by Tilly, and I’m more like black powder,” she looked around the room no one gave them so much as a glance. “I appreciate the attention but I need to make some money or my Pimp will pound on me.” The waitress returned with a glass of ice and a clear liquid.

“Vodka Tonic,” the waitress told them she ten whispered in Sam’s ear, Sam extended a ten dollar bill and told her to keep the change. Samantha turned her attention to Tilly.

“I’ll give you whatever you need to give him,” Sam said rubbing the arm of the smaller woman in a tender embrace. “Even better than that I’ll be your pimp and you can keep your money.” Turning she took Tilly’s face in her hands and again kissed her. Tilly leaned into her felt her strength. The girl warped her arms around Sam. When they, at last, broke apart she looked up at the taller, stronger, woman.

“You’re big and strong, but he is bigger, stronger and meaner. It just can’t be done,” the dejected black girl told her. “I’ll be doing what he says for a long time I think.”

“Bullshit, I can take him. Why don’t you finish the drink and take me to him?” it took Sam several minutes to convince her.

Wrapping her arms around the woman Tilly felt the rumbled from the powerful motor through her body. She clutched the woman struggling with a small fear that they would crash. The streets rushed by and Tilly gave instructions. The town grew more seedy the further they went. Darkness covered them in the run-down part of the city, streetlights were dim or not working at all. The windows of the houses were dark and many were abandoned left empty to fall apart from entropy.

The darkness seemed to grow as the motorcycle pulled into the drive of the derelict house. Clouds covered the half moon, the house stood as a testament of man’s neglect to the ghetto of the community. Shingles were missing from the roof, which sagged in the middle, much of the siding had fallen off and some places big holes gapped through to the nasty interior. The couple entered the dwelling and moved through it to a big master bedroom.

The pimp arched his hips into the face of the girl. She gagged and spewed as she sucked him. He froze pushing her head down on his cock. He made small humps whit his hips pushing dick deeper into her mouth as he disgorged his seed. The whores watched the nightly ritual of him showing he was the boss. He forced a different girl every night to suck him off, beating them before and sometimes afterward to make a point. After he busted his nut, he became aware of Tilly standing near the doorway.

“Tilly what the fuck you bringing a john here for?” pushing the girl to the side he stood on the ratty mattress on the floor pushing his cock back in his pants he zipped. “Shit, you’re a fucking girl. What you wanting to hustle for me – dike?”

“I’m going to kick your ass and take these girls from you,” Sam said throwing her coat and helmet on the floor. She reached down and unsnapped the chaps then opened the buckle and let them fall to the carpet. He snickered and pushed his hand in his back pocket. He was quick to formulate his plan and shoved the brass knuckles on his hand. Keeping it behind his back he approached the woman in a cat like slowness cutting the distance between them.

“Kick my ass, take my fucking women, bull-fucking-shit!” he charged her. Sam’s body twisted to the side and her knee rose to her chest she snapped her foot out hard crashing into his chest. He was lifted off his feet and flew back to the gritty mattress. In two quick bounds, Sam jumped on him. With swift hard blows, she bashed her fist to his face and nose. Then she jumped off and stood in the middle of the room.

The pimp held his nose and screamed out incoherent curses and threats at the woman. Getting up he again charged her. “Dumbshit never learn,” Sam thought as he threw the punch she deflected it with ease. She turned her back to him while holding his arm. Bashing her elbow into his side several times, Sam, spun away and then pirouetted around kicking his chin. He tumbled down on his knees. Sam grabbed his scruffy hair and clutching it drug him upwards. She then threw blow after blow to his stomach and ribs followed by a straight hand blow to the back of his head.

In a heap on the floor, he struggled to catch his breath. Pushing up with his hands he rose up, Sam kicked his ribs, then again, and again. The snapping and popping sound rang out as bones broke. Standing over him as he gasped for air, Sam knew he was done, the awful sucking sounds of his pain as he tried to breathe filled Sam with joy. For good measure kicked him again hard.

“Get the fuck out of my town,” she then kicked his broken ribs again. “Be gone by midnight tonight or,” she lowered the register of her voice to nearly a growl, “I’ll fucking kill you. You are done here you got your ass kicked by a girl.”

Sam left him with one hundred dollars and his pink and purple pimpmobile. He didn’t stop at an emergency room until he got to Tulsa. When the doctor asked what happened, he said he had fallen down a flight of stairs. Under his breath the doctor commented, “Stairs with a with fast fist and feet is my guess,” to his nurse.

Sam told the girls they were free to work the streets and keep their money. She would keep as close an eye on them as she could but had her own job. The whores told her they would give her ten percent of their money if she would watch over them. A quick calculation told Sam she would be many dollars ahead with ten percent of fifteen whores money. She would dance part time and take care of the whores full time.

Sam had a problem, she didn’t want Tilly to work the street, but how to tell her? For that night, it didn’t matter. The went the girls and Sam and Tilly cruised up down the boulevard making sure the girls were safe. Tilly talking to Sam and telling her about the other women. At three am she order the women to go home. Tilly and Sam followed them to their respective motels, apartments, and abandoned houses. The two women went to Tilly’s apartment. When they entered Tilly turned on a lot of lights then sat on the couch. Sam switched most of the lights off and set next Tilly.

“Well,” Till fiddled with the hem of her dress. Sam put her finger to Tilly’s mouth.

“Time to talk after,” she kissed her as her hands roamed over the black girls body. Tilly’s response was instant, her body moved to the woman and their hand clutched, stimulated and explored each others bodies. Clothing peeled off by one another hung from a limb here or dangled from the arm of the sofa there. Hungry mouths moved over a neck, breasts, tummies, and then lower, lower still. Fingers press inside followed by caresses with lips and deep thrust with tongues. Instinctive passion led Tilly on what to do and when. Having never done this before there was a slight awkwardness, still she knew what to do to a woman to make her feel good. She knew would make her feel good so did that to Sam. Sam having more awareness, certainly knew what Tilly needed.

An intuitive dance ensued as the women alternated between kissing each others mouths to concentrating on other lips. Hips moved in a rhythmic synchronicity of lustful, passionate desire. The two were fitted together in a natural way as though designed one for the other. Their heads between each others leg they explored the flowered landscape testing and tasting one another’s passion. They explored each others carnal, desire until finally they culminated together in a massive fervid, euphoria.

In the early morning hours, with predawn light filtering through the bare window of Tilly’s seedy apartment, the two women lay clutching each other. Tilly curled into the bigger stronger woman a feeling of satisfaction filled her. A content she had not felt in eight years.

“I want to know all about you,” Sam told her.

“No, you don’t know want to know all my shit.”

“Yea, I really do,” Sam said blankly. “I think we should tell everything important right up front. No secrets, put our cards on the table.” Tilly thought for a minute. Then sat up and walked out of the room. Sam worried she had done something wrong. Tilly walked back wearing one robe and holding another.

“Might not fit,” She handed the pink robe to her. Tilly sat on the couch with her feet under her. “You go first.” Sam stood and in a futile attempted to put on the robe. Laying the robe on the back of the sofa she curled up on the couch and layed her head in Tilly’s lap.

“I remember when my mom died, I was eight years old, that was eighteen years ago now, my dad went to pieces. Somehow we made it through the funeral. Dad tried to be father and mother, he didn’t do to good a job on the mother part. He taught me to play baseball, basketball, and soccer. He coached little league teams, and I was a star, player. The girly things he didn’t know how to do.” Sam sighed and rolled into her tighter. Tilly smoothed Sam’s short, brown hair and rubbed her bare arm. The big muscles were hard to her touch. She ran her hand over the in the tender manner she could feel the pent-up energy in them. They were coiled ready to be used.

“In high school only a few boys ever worked up the nerve to asked me out, it never lasted long. Between my less than feminine ways and my fathers bear like appearance it didn’t take long for a boy to lose interest. I went to college and got a degree in English. I have a teaching certificate, but I didn’t like teaching. The snotty middle school brats drove me insane. I started dancing on the side and that ended of my career in education. Once the school board found out, I was fired.” Tilly leaned down and kissed her and smiled. Sam smiled back.

“I have been in a lot of spats, arrested and thrown in jail overnight twice for assault, but charges were never filed. The guys were too ashamed to admit a girl beat them in a fight. I have fought in underground fights, mixed matches were women fight men. I have a few lovers, a couple of men, maybe four women and no one-night stands,” she paused. “This isn’t a one night stand is it?”

“No, I don’t think it is,” Tilly allowed and traced her finger down Sam’s nose moving it to her lips. Sam kissed her finger and Tilly raised her finger to own mouth and kissed where Sam had. They exchanged a look, a smile perhaps, or it may have been deeper than that.

“Your turn,” Sam said sitting up then laying back. She indicated for Tilly to curl up with her and as natural as breathing air the two held each other in a loving embrace.

“It was a Sunday night and my twelfth birthday. My daddy came home drunk, nothing unusual about that. He came in and saw my presents and had this strange look in his eyes. What happened after that was terrible … he took me … with my momma watching.” Tears flowed as she spoke and she blubbered a few moments. I tried to stop him but couldn’t.” Sam held her so tight she wanted her to know she was there for her.

“Next morning, my Momma made all kinds of excuses for Daddy. He was a man, a man has needs and you have to respect your Daddy. She let me stay home from school to heal up, that was how she said it. “You need to heal up La Quitta. You don’t wants nobody think you Daddy hurts you.”

“I watched something on TV, I think a rerun of an old TV show called ‘Wings.’ The TV stopped playing said “We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for this important message.” The little bug down the corner changed to a news channels. There was a newsman on there talking about an accident in New York City. Only it wasn’t an accident and the world came crashing down that day. How these planes ran into two buildings, The World Trade Center buildings, then one building just fell, crashed in on its self. One floor fell into another and so, just like you pulled the wrong stick out in Jenga, it all came tumbling down, just like my life.” Tilly felt Sam’s strong hands running over her body in an oh, so, tender and loving touch.

“I watched the news all day the first time I every paid attention to the news. They said it was a terror attack and I felt like them buildings myself. Like I had my own terror attack. The ceiling fell on me a the floor fell out from under me, we all came tumbling down and shit covered me. That was when I made up mind after they were asleep I left. I have never been back. I thumbed rides until I got here. I became a whore and now its 8 years later and here I am.” Her eyes were glassy, but she didn’t cry. The warmth of Sam’s touched felt – strange, delightful, and so very right.

“I have never had a lover,” she stopped then added, “before, I have fucked a lot but tonight was the time I made love. Never been with a woman, until you. I never was attracted to any female. Shit, then I saw you standing there giving that guy the bums rush. My heart most burst in my chest. You were tall, beautiful, and powerful never saw a woman like you before in my life.” She snuggled into Sam, “I’ve been raped six times in eight years. Had my money stolen, I have been beaten up by johns and other whores. I am so worthless I don’t deserve no one, especially no one like you.”

“Hey, I won’t hear that talk you deserve the best,” she decided it was time. “That brings us to something else. I don’t want you working the streets anymore. You run the girls and live with me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Why?” Tilly asked her. Tilly was pleased with the what she said, but she didn’t understand it, she wanted to know what Sam’s meaning was. She wanted to know why!

“That’s how I want it. I want to protect you,” she didn’t know how to say what she needed to say.

“Why? You don’t know me nor do you owe me anything.” Tilly pressed her.

“I know I want you,” she paused and pull the girl to her. “I know you fill a whole. I don’t know what else to tell you. I don’t have to know you for months or years to know I care for you. I want to be with you, someday that might change, but not today. I don’t see a time when it will ever change.”

“You know what that’s called?” Tilly asked her.

“I know, it is such a beautiful word but I fiend it quite hard to say,” Samantha told her an awkward truth. “I have never been able to get that word out, not so far.”

“You got to some time,” Tilly told her as the sunlight broke into the room. The ball of fire climbed in the sky, but the two slept on a large, clean couch until the heat built up in the apartment. Sam changed her schedule that day, she would only work mid-week and only until 10:00. Her open days she cruised the avenue watching her girls, after work the same. Weekends was nearly around the clock. And almost all of the time, Tilly was with her.

At times, Tilly stood watch over the girls. She drove the Street and if necessary she could call Sam, who rushed to the aid of one of the women. Eventually, the whores moved on and Tilly found a new line of work. There was a constant in her life, Samantha, her liberator, protector, lover, friend, and so much more.

Once the girls were gone, Sam went back to dancing full time. She enjoyed it and the customers loved her. The mean Bitch Goddess stripper. What can be said, some men love tall, muscled women that treat them like dirt. Tilly found a new profession, an odd way of making a living considering where she started in life. Tilly also became an expert in martial arts, though never as proficient as Samantha, she was still deadly good with it.

One day sitting in the Club where Sam worked she looked at Tilly. She admired her slender build, her dark complexion, her deep penetrating gazes and way she had climbed out of the gutter to make something of herself. She couldn’t help herself the words just flowed from her. The three most important words a person can hear.

“I love you,” Sam said it casual like she had said it every day for years. Not at like it was the first time she told someone.

“I know,” Tilly answered, “I’m uneducated, not stupid.”

This is certainly not an end to their story.

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This story is about a married couple that definitely approach sex in a way some of us would find a little too planned and structured. They are both perfectionists, obsessive, and deviant. This story begins when they are in their late thirties, their names are Ken and Debra, and they have two adopted children, Lisa and Mike.