Okay... to cut a long story short, I wrote this story a little while ago for one of the BEA writing contests. However, I found myself pretty busy and did not finish it in time. Not only that, but I did not finish it at all
So, I am looking for some options- either for some ideas and some motivation to help me finish it, or perhaps someone to write their own ending. I do not mind
The floor is yours ladies and gentlemen, I hope you enjoy what I have written so far.
----------
Brushing the long dark hair out of her eyes, Jennifer walked over to the mirror hanging on her wardrobe door and looked herself up and down. She was one of those extremely lucky women who, despite not giving two fucks about her appearance, somehow managed to stay in great shape and could charm even the most unresponsive men into buying her drinks with her looks alone. She pouted playfully to herself, admiring her flat stomach, her hands caressing the edge of her tight jeans where just a hint of a g-string could be seen trying to peek over the rim; no doubt trying to catch a glimpse of their wearer.
As a psychologist, Jennifer considered herself to be a particularly sane person, not to mention level-headed and extremely open-minded. As she searched through her drawers for a suitable top, she giggled to herself when she remembered the serial adulterer that had come to see her concerning his ‘little habit.’ The session had lasted barely twenty minutes and the gentleman in question had left her executive office cured of his rampant urges. Having screwed his brains out for nineteen of those minutes, Jennifer was confident that she would be able to cure him in due course. Down from ten women to just two- it was like he was trying to stop smoking by weaning himself off of them. Yes, her methods were unorthodox, but he was fit and she had wanted a shag anyway so, metaphorically, two birds were killed with one stone.
Picking a thin white blouse from one of the wardrobe drawers she slung it over her back and down her well-toned arms; arms that, despite their amazing look and feel, had never been toned on any form of gym equipment. Then again, sex was a great form of exercise, she had heard that on TV once; and to be honest, if she could use it as an excuse then she was more than happy to do several hours of ‘exercise’ every night. Pulling the two halves across her chest she looked down and concentrated on trying to mate buttons with holes. She wasn’t flat-chested, nor was she particularly busty, but her overall appearance made sure that her breasts were in perfect proportion with the rest of her body. Nevertheless, a tight blouse would accentuate them even further and so she ritually bought the smallest ones that she could feasibly fit into.
As she hopped playfully down the stairs of her apartment she tried to remember where she had put the information for that evening. Looking along the modern sideboard where the phone sat she stroked at her full lips unconsciously whilst she tried to recall where she had left the invite. Tonight would be a new experience for her and damned if she was going to miss it because of a bit of paper! Rifling through her plethora of purses she finally found the invite neatly hidden behind a ten dollar bill, Alexander Hamilton grinning mischievously back at her as if to indicate that his little game of hide and seek had been rumbled. The paper was fairly plain considering the evening of fun and games that it hinted at on the back. She pushed it casually into the back pocket of her jeans and went to find her boots.
---------
It was unusual, but not unheard of, that a good looking man got to her before she pounced on him. She had been sitting in an uptown jazz club **94** extremely expensive tequila, her feet up on the table in front of her, when a young, attractive guy had sat down and placed another shot of tequila next to her. Reaching over her high boots she had picked up her shot glass, taken a sip and replaced it casually on the table before putting her hand back in the pocket of her pin-stripe suit jacket. The man sat patiently next to her and she could feel his eyes looking her up and down, taking in her long legs and slim body. Normally they would go away by now but this guy clearly had the balls to go with his looks. She turned to face him and peered down her slightly retroussé nose at him, her green eyes sparkling in the lights emanating from the stage. He was very fine! Short locks of hair neatly arranged in the latest cropped fashion hung over pale, almost misty grey eyes, which in turn rested above a straight nose, a cheeky grin and a strong jaw. He was also wearing a suit though he appeared to be well-built underneath it.
‘Jonathan Samuels, at your service,’ he yelled over the improvised saxophone music before flashing a picture perfect smile and bowing courteously before her. She bit at her lower lip absent-mindedly as he rose and twirled a strand of hair around her index finger.
‘Jennifer Lewis, at yours,’ she replied in a husky yet sensual voice - the result of years of practice and probably far too many hours in smoky jazz clubs. He smiled again, his eyes roaming across her features, taking in her stunning eyes, incredible cheekbones and gorgeous lips. She kissed the air as he focussed on them and laughed as he shook his head apologetically.
‘Sorry, it’s just, well… wow! I don’t see many women like you around and you are incredible by the way…’ She put her legs under the table and sat around to look at him straight on while he continued talking. …’And your eyes, dear God they are amazing, it’s like drowning in…’
‘Jon. Do you mind if I call you Jon?’ He shook his head slowly, his face red after his brief outpouring of romantic sentiments. ‘I think you are very good looking. Is that okay with you?’ She rested her hand on his knee, the two of them sitting barely a foot apart.
‘I think I can cope with that,’ he replied, once again attempting to compete with the vocals of a particularly loud part of the music. She slid her hand heavily up his thigh and moved closer towards him, her jacket sliding open to reveal her tight blouse beneath. His eyes opened wider and he swallowed nervously. Jennifer chuckled to herself- she loved teasing men, it was like an art form and she was the mother-fuckin’ Matisse – original, impressionistic and, more often than not, inspired all those who experienced her work.
‘In which case, follow me.’
‘Where are we going?’ He asked as she stood up and buttoned her jacket over her breasts.
‘To my house,’ she answered looking around. ‘To fuck,’ she added casually, just in case he hadn’t caught on. Patting his head playfully she started to leave the club by the nearest exit, her dark auburn hair flowing behind her. Jonathan Samuels, unlucky in love, had pulled in less than two minutes. He had also won fifty dollars in a bet but in all fairness that was right at the bottom of his priority list. Standing carefully he also buttoned his jacket, though for an entirely more obvious reason; downed the shot of tequila still sitting on the table and hurried after his mistress.
-----------------------
Her heels clicking rhythmically on the sidewalk, Jennifer recalled her first night with Jon, the man she was now going to meet. He was a guy with a surprising number of hidden talents. They had got back to her apartment at just gone one in the morning and, instead of the all too frequent and usually boring pre-coital chat and coffee; he had pushed her up against the wall and kissed her. Not one to be outdone she had thrown him back across her thin **103** hall and given him a stern glance, which had shocked him completely. And then she was in front of him, ripping his jacket from his body and stroking his muscular arms, her lips kissing at his strong neck.
‘Do you wan..?’ He had started, but she had already unzipped his trousers. Reaching down he tapped her on the top of her head, her hair silky to the touch. ‘Jen, up here. Stop that…’ She stroked at his boxer shorts with her hand and looked up at him, her other arm still pinning him to the wall.
‘Don’t you like this?’ She ran her fingers up and down the front of his shorts, his manhood swelling beneath her touch. Looking up at him she pouted innocently and nuzzled against his well-defined stomach, her hair falling against his crotch and stimulating him further.
‘Well I was going to suggest that we found somewhere more comfortable but the hallway is fine for me. Could we perhaps close the front door though?’ Looking behind her, Jennifer noticed that the front door was still wide open. A **93** tramp walked aimlessly past on the other side of the road, his single chance of voyeurism that night foiled by his own inebriation. She kicked the door shut with a booted foot, the letter-box flapping shut on the other side and then looked at him deviously.
‘How about,’ she rubbed her nose against him and bit at the top of his underwear before pulling them down with her teeth. ‘I play with you for a while, then you get to play with me, and then we get to see how long we can keep each other on the verge of cumming. Then I will tie you up and tease you, you can spank me a bit and then we fuck each other senseless until it’s time to go to work.’
‘Er…’ His cock now fully erect, Jon was having difficulty thinking. Jennifer stroked his balls tenderly with her left hand, her fingers rubbing them together. ‘Yeah… I didn’t know we had an itinerary but that sounds great!’ He exclaimed sharply as she took him inside her mouth and started sucking him. Hard! Never had a woman been this forthright with him!
‘You know,’ she said between mouthfuls, ‘perhaps we should go into the lounge. It is more comfortable in there. Besides, you can relax a bit rather than me having to hold you against the wall.’ Standing slowly in front of him she removed her jacket, her blouse shimmering in the moonlight coming through the frosted glass on the front door. Turning slowly, Jon was rewarded with a stunning profile shot of her as she hung her suit jacket on one of the pegs by the door, her amazing features highlighted in a pale blue luminescence. Grabbing hold of his penis in her hand she pulled at it playfully. ‘Follow me,’ she whispered.
--------
As Porky Pig would say:
"bergeh, bergeh, bergeh, bbb... Thats all Folks!"
Comments and criticisms on a postcard to... well, my inbox or this thread. Thanks for reading
