Other Voices - Alma

I grew up in Garden City, New York, mostly in foster homes, but at the age of ten, I was finally adopted by an older couple who tried their best to provide a good home. However, looking back, I can see that I was unprepared for the help they tried to offer. It wasn't anything they did, but being passed around my whole life had made me suspicious and resentful of everyone and everything. When I turned seventeen, I just filled my backpack and headed south on a Greyhound Bus.

I only had enough money to get as far as Norfolk. I had no idea of what to do or where to go, and as I stood in the middle of the bus station, that's exactly how I must have looked. Just then, a guy came up to me and said, "Hi, where ya headed?" I looked at him, noting that he looked only a couple of years older than me.

"Uh," I stuttered, "I'm waiting for someone." It was such an obvious bald-faced lie that he just laughed at my feeble answer. "Uh uh, " he said, "Listen, I've watched a hundred girls like you get off buses here and almost all of them end up on the street." Then he asked me a question that I definitely didn't expect.

"You a virgin?"

I was so surprised that I didn't know enough to be insulted by his brazenness "No!" I blurted without thinking. "Good thing," he answered, "Cause by morning, you probably wouldn't be." It suddenly dawned on me that I'd put myself into a situation that I was Ill prepared to handle.

Who was this person? Uncomfortable doesn't begin to describe my feeling at that moment. I was scared! I quickly looked around, hoping to find someone who I could ask for help, but no one seemed to be aware of us. I suppose we just looked like some young couple having a conversation.

"I'll tell you what, come with me and I'll at least get you a place for the night." The man reached for my arm as if to lead me somewhere, and I instinctively jerked away. He reached for me again, but before I could react a second time, I saw a hand appear and smack his arm away and I heard a deep masculine voice say, "Not this one Derek, beat it."

I looked up and saw a big man in his forties. He was dressed like a construction worker and as he stepped between myself and "Derek," I wondered who he was, where he came from, and what the hell would happen next.

Derek glared at the man and I wondered if he was going to try to hit him, but the man sort of smiled and said, "I wouldn't." Derek said something that I didn't quite catch, but it sounded defiant, but he turned and stalked out the doorway toward the bus bays.

When the man turned around, I immediately noticed his steel blue eyes and an old scar that ran from the side of his right eye to almost his bottom lip. "You okay," he asked.

I only nodded because words didn't seem to want to come, but I finally got out "Who... who... who are you?"

"Tim Moore's the name, I'm a policeman."

Now totally confused, I quickly looked around the station and asked, "Where did you come from... I... I didn't see you... "

"Let's sit down," I heard him say and I allowed him to lead me over to one of the benches. When we were seated, he explained that he was with the Norfolk Police Department and he was part of the gang squad. He told me that "Derek" was a recruiter for a local gang, and his M.O. was to look for runaway girls. If I'd gone with him, one of two things would have likely happened; either I'd be pimped out, or I'd be dead.

These words hit me like a ton of bricks and I put my face in my hands and sobbed, partly from the close escape and partly from the relief. Tim put his arm around me and said, "Where ya from?" It took me a while to calm down enough to answer his questions, but I finally confessed that I'd run away and why. When I got most of it out, he asked, "Anyone here you know?" I shook my head. "A Place to stay?" I sobbed another "no."

"There's a women's shelter I can take you to it, if you want, but it's up to you."

He let his offer hang in the air, not pushing me for a decision. I considered my options and decided that I didn't have any. I had sort of planned -Oh, that's a funny word- to crash somewhere and try to find a job, but now that I understood the danger, Tim's suggestion was the proverbial "lifeboat in the storm," so I nodded again and he helped me to my feet.

The Prager House was an old Victorian that had seen better days situated on a side street. The manager was a woman named Mrs. Reid and it was obvious that Tim frequently brought in girls just like me. They spoke for a while while I just stared at the floor, but when they finished, Tim said goodbye and wished me well. Mrs. Reid just went and got some papers that I had to fill out.

When I was done, she said, "Under state law, you can stay here for two weeks. Is there any reason you can't work?" I said, no. That was my plan. Mrs. Reid nodded and gave me a card with the address of the local employment bureau. "They open at eight." To me, it sounded like a command more than a suggestion. "I'm going to room you with Alisha," and she led me to the stairway to the upper floors.

On the way, she told me that Alisha was a "short-timer," as I was sure that she expected me to be as well. "Alisha was transferred down here from Richmond to get her away from her pimp. He's already a suspect in a couple of murders, so Social Services thought she'd be safer here."

"My God!" I thought, "What have I gotten myself into?" Mrs. Reid stopped at a doorway and knocked, but there was no answer, so she reached for the doorknob and we walked in. No Alisha, so she was out. In the original house this had just been a bedroom and it still basically was. It was roughly twelve by twelve with a closet to one side and a window that looked into the alley in back of the house. There were two twin beds. One was unmade, and I assumed that was Alisha's. The other had a small suitcase laying open with a few clothes falling out of it.

"Sorry, no private bath. It's at the end of the hall." Mrs. Reid led me there and I saw a room roughly the same size as the bedroom. Half of it was a four-shower stall with no curtains. Two toilets and two double sinks. A stack of towels of different colors sat on a table by the shower and a large receptacle that I assumed was for laundry. "Mornings and Evenings it gets crowded here." I nodded. That made sense.

Before Mrs. Reid left me to my own devices, she explained that Prager House was partly a women's shelter and partly a halfway house. My housemates included two other runaways like myself, three women transitioning from prostitution like Alisha. Two unwed mothers and their children, and a pregnant teen. As she turned to walk away, I noticed the redness around her eyes, which I thought to myself, had probably seen it all.

I moved Alisha's suitcase and put it on the floor at the bottom of her bed, and as I picked it up I noticed a folded copy of yesterday's Virginia-Pilot opened to the help wanted section. I assumed that based on Mrs. Reid's comments, Alisha, like me, was probably looking for a job. I sat down on the bed and checked out the aads

I was just starting the process of finding a job opportunity that matched my limited skills when the door flew open and a woman whom I assumed to be Alisha swept into the room. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me and quickly glanced around the room to see where her suitcase had gone. "Who are you?" she asked with a touch of suspicion in her voice.

I dropped the newspaper and rose to my feet. "I'm Alma, and I guess we're roommates. Mrs. Reid just brought me here."

"Uh, okay.", Alisha responded, her initial anxiety seeming to ebb. Then, noting that my luggage consisted entirely of my backpack, she nodded in its direction and said, "You're traveling light." I followed her gaze and said, "Ya, kinda," and with that introduction we sat on our respective beds and related to each other the sad train of events that preceded our meeting.

Alisha's mother was black, but her father was a mystery. Her lighter cocoa-colored skin and narrow nose and lips suggested he was probably white, but she didn't know. From what I could see, she was an attractive woman a couple of years older than me about my size with a nice figure. She had gotten involved with a guy in Richmond who'd ended up 'pimping her out' to support his cocaine habit and he'd subsequently 'sold her' to a man named Marcus, who was the guy she was running from. Truthfully, it made my story of woe seem petty and pathetic by comparison, but we were bound by the knowledge we were both seeking a better life, even if neither of us could describe what that looked like.

The next day, I went to the employment bureau and filled out more forms, and took a typing test. That was one of the few courses in high school that I was any good at, and I hoped I could find some kind of clerical position, but I was ready to consider anything. When my name was finally called, I found the numbered desk and sat down in front of an older woman who was looking at my paperwork. "Mmm," I heard her murmur under her breath. I didn't know if "Mmm," was good or bad, so I waited expectantly for a clearer reaction.

"Miss, uh... " she started to say while looking for my name. "You basically have no experience to speak of, but uh.. where did you learn to type?" I honestly answered that I learned in high school and she asked how I happened to be in Virginia. I debated making up a story, but I figured that if I started lying that I'd get tripped up somewhere and so I admitted the truth.

"There's nothing that's in our system that fits you now, but maybe... " The woman seemed lost in thought for a moment then asked me to return to the waiting room while she made a phone call. A few minutes later, I heard my name again, and when I returned to the woman's desk she wrote out an name an address, and a telephone number and said, "This is just a connection I have, I don't know..." I quickly thanked her and I saw her smile as I headed to the door.

I'd never heard of the company, and it was getting a little late to call, but I was too excited to wait.

There was a payphone by the door and I fished for a quarter to make the call, which was answered after the first ring. I knew I was supposed to ask for Susan, but I was surprised when I found that she was the one who answered. Apparently, she was expecting my call. She sounded pleasant and said that she could see me the next day. I got directions and promised that I'd be there. I was so excited at the prospect of a real job that I kept squeezing myself.

When I got back to the Prager House with my hopefully good news, I found Alisha had something to tell me too. She had been referred to a trucking company and she told me that starting tomorrow she was beginning a career as a dispatcher and would be making $5 an hour! I was happy for her.

As excited as I was to hear about Alisha's job, it turned out that it wasn't the most exciting discovery of the day, but I had to wait until two in the morning to find out about that.

We had talked late into the night. I learned more about her and she about me, and for two people who had only met about thirty hours ago, we bonded quickly and I almost considered her to be the sister I never had. When we finally went to bed, I had trouble falling asleep, and when I finally did, I think it was the shallow kind, where you're still somewhat aware.

The previous night, I had noticed that Alisha slept nude. I had too, a few times, but usually, I went to bed in a t-shirt and panties. I remember that it was a typical sticky hot night, and the Prager House didn't have air conditioning. Alisha had thrown off the covers and even though the lights were out it was still possible to see her from my bed.

I had never been particularly interested in the female body, but for some reason, I began to visually explore Alisha who was sleeping only a few feet away. She was on her back with one leg bent and tucked under the other. In that position, her sex was not only visible to me, but seemed to be wontenly displayed for my benefit. She had shared with me some of her experiences as a prostitute and that plus the image of her naked body was having a profound effect.

I knew that sexually, I was a neophyte. I wasn't a virgin since I'd allowed a boyfriend between my legs once to my dismay. It was painful, uncomfortable, and gross. I remember thinking at the time, if this is how 'wonderful' sex is, I'll take open-heart surgery any day of the week. Of course, I'd discovered masturbation, who hadn't? But even that seemed more work than it was worth. Somehow though, lying there, looking at Alisha, I felt a new and interesting sensation in my pussy. Was I really getting 'wet' looking at another woman?

Skip to tonight. I was in that never-neverland when I felt the mattress move and Alisha's warm body pressed against me. I don't know if it was because of our conversations or what, but I knew that I welcomed her initiative. I moved over to give her some more room and she snuggled closer. I could smell her breath, her sweat, and something... else.

Her hand reached across my body and pulled my shoulder enough that we ended up face to face. Alisha didn't hesitate, and for the first time in my life, I felt my lips on those of another woman. They were soft and sweet. I could still taste what remained of her lipstick, and I thought, how different from the boys I had kissed. My tee had ridden up and I felt Alisha begin to caress my back, first below, then under my shirt. It felt heavenly. Her hands were soft and gentle and suddenly I was swept away by the emotion of the moment.

When she'd turned me, I found my hands trapped between our bodies and her soft breasts pressing against them. It took no effort at all to open my fingers and just let her softness fill my hands and I squeezed and kneaded the fat and felt her nipples harden in my palms. Alisha moaned as she felt my touch, so she rewarded me by giving me a taste of her tongue.

I had no idea where this was going, but I was content to just follow her lead. So when she broke our kiss and whispered, "I want you naked," I didn't give it a second thought. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and then skinned my panties off. When I did, I smelled my own arousal and realized that it was the same aroma that I'd been unable to identify earlier.

Alisha seemed to know what she was doing, and I knew that I certainly did not, but I was sure that I was ready to be taught. That night I got the whole introductory lesson.

When she broke our kiss, I felt one hand caress my cheek while her lips started kissing my forehead just at the hairline. It was a different kind of kiss than I had ever received. In addition to her lips, Alisha used just the tip of her tongue to occasionally swipe over my skin, and I found that the combined sensation was both pleasant and somewhat arousing. She kissed down my forehead, to my eyebrows then the bridge of my nose before spending a few minutes kissing each closed eyelid and my ears. I had never felt so loved and adored, and even though Alisha hadn't touched me below my lips, I could feel a growing dampness in my pussy.

When her lips dropped to my neck, I let my head drop back to expose as much skin as I could and Alisha took full advantage of the opening. If you've never been gently kissed on your neck, it's an experience that I highly recommend. The feeling is exquisite. When her lips had finished there, they slid down to my collarbones and across to each shoulder, leaving thin trails of her saliva damp on my skin.

As Alisha had dropped lower, I lost contact with her breasts, so not knowing what else to do with them, I put them on her head, but not to guide, just to feel her and somehow communicate how wonderful she was making me feel. When Alisha felt my touch, she paused briefly to silently acknowledge my gratitude, then went back to kissing her way down my body.

By the time she reached my own breasts, my nipples had swollen to hard erect nubs, and she went directly to one, then the other, kissing, biting, and rolling them with her lips and tongue. I moaned with pleasure, and the verbal feedback seemed to spur Alisha even more. I had never thought that my breasts and nipples were very sensitive. Certainly, in my own hands, they'd never been, but Alisha was creating feelings that seemed to bely that early assessment. As she sucked, I began to sense a pathway of pleasurable sensations connecting my erect nipples and my clit. Once her eyes raised to look at my face, and when she found my head was thrown back and my eyes wide, she just smiled in recognition and returned to work.

Soon, I felt her fingers replace her lips on my nipples and though the touch was different the pleasure was the same. Alisha had started kissing down my stomach and it was clear where her lips and tongue were headed. Oh, I was aware of oral sex, even though I had never experienced it, and in my heightened arousal, I waited anxiously for it to happen. Had you asked me my opinion about a woman pressing her face between my legs earlier in the day, I would have probably said it was gross. But not here and certainly not now.

Alisha's lips had found the first wisps of pubic hair and was using just the tip of her tongue to make small circles in the sparse foliage she found growing on my mound. She'd descended too far to maintain her grip on my breasts, so now she was holding me by the hips as her mouth continued to kiss its way to the cleft of my slit.

I knew what she wanted to do, and it was a revelation to me that I now wanted her to do it, but before she could, we needed to adjust our positions. I could have just rolled on my back and that would have sufficed, but Alisha had a better idea. She rose and turned me ninety degrees so that my butt was just on the edge of the bed with my legs hanging over the side. Then, sliding to the floor, she placed my legs over her shoulders, such that my sex was fully exposed and only inches away from her face.

During the entire journey from my head to my pussy, Alisha had not uttered a single word, but now, poised at my gates, she raised her eyes and said, "Alma. What do you want me to do?" Was she serious? Did she want me to beg? Oh, I did consider those questions, but only for the briefest instant, because I heard my own unbidden response...

"Eat me! Kiss my pussy! Tongue my clit! I want it so bad! I want it so bad!... Please! Oh, God... Please!

I sensed rather than saw Alisha smile, but then I felt her lips touch me there and her tongue snaked between my folds and wedged itself in my slit where it began to explore the damp wetness that it found there. When she touched me I instinctively arched my back which had the result of pressing more of my cunt against her lips and the resulting pleasure wrenched a long "agggghhh," from my mouth.

Alisha, well aware of what women find most pleasurable, wasted no time. I was aroused, I was wet, I was as ready as a woman can be. Her mouth covered the top of my gash and her tongue searched for and easily found my erect clit. At her touch, I felt a jolt through my whole body and my back arched some more trying to harden the contact between my throbbing clit and Alisha's flicking tongue. It was too much... too much... too damned much!

My orgasm hit like a freight train, and I twisted away from Alisha when it happened. I had thought I knew what an orgasm was. I thought I had that experience when I had diddled myself, but this wasn't anything like those puny sensations. My body exploded in waves and my mind was desperately trying to sort out the input. Was it pleasure? Was it pain? Was it a little bit of both? It had no clue. I pushed Alisha's head away and closed my legs to guard my throbbing clit against any more stimulation. Any more and I thought I might die!

My hands pressed into my groin as if to try to stem the flow of the waves that seemed to emerge, but they did little to stop them. My legs shook uncontrollably as they marked their passing and I felt every bit like a small ship in a raging ocean of chaos. I had no sense of Alisha because my tightly clenched eyes were focused on the spasming of the walls of my vagina, and I could sense the clenching of my opening. I had stopped breathing at the moment of climax, but now in the immediate aftermath, I gasped for air in short staccato bursts in the same rthymn.