JENNIE

The club scene in London is pretty damn awesome. We didn't do it often but a good club crawl was just what I needed. My poor psyche was on maximum overload in a conflict of emotions, fears, and guilt. I needed to dance and drink and laugh but most of all I needed to forget about all the shit. Life was too short to dwell on the dark parts, or at least that's what my therapist said. I had an appointment with Dr. Roswell tomorrow at four o'clock and a dinner date with Lisa after. Our first step in the take-it-slow agreement we'd made on the phone. She'd told me she wanted to lay the cards out on the table and I have to admit I liked that. The truth works best for me. I really don't have anything to hide; it was more being careful about what I wanted to share. And I didn't know how much I could share with Lisa either. There was no guide map to help me. I had to ride the wave and hope I didn't crash into the reef and drown.

"Try this. It's magnificent." Mino handed me a tall orangey-red drink in a hurricane glass. "They're calling it an Olympic Flame."

I took a sip. "Nice." We both watched Rosie banging it out on the dance floor with some guy who would definitely not get lucky tonight. We'd hit three clubs so far and my feet were starting to put up a protest. My dark purple boots looked great with my one shouldered floral dress, but three clubs in and I was ready for some fluffy socks. "My cowboy boot fetish is coming back to haunt me I think." I smirked at Mino and lifted a boot.

"You own like ten pairs of them." He shrugged. "I think they look hot. You know," Mino said thoughtfully, "nude in boots would make some delicious portraits." He nodded quickly. "Your body and your boots. Am I right? I want to do it. I can light it very dark and cast the boots in color. You have so many different shades—yellow, pink, green, blue, red. They'll look brilliant. Just art, nothing overt." He looked at me. "Will you do it, Jen?"

"Well…sure I will. If you think it'll make good pictures then of course I'll sign a release for my boots." I stuck my tongue out at him. "My mother will have a coronary." I waited for Mino's sarcastic comment.

"Your mum needs a good rogering." Mino did not let me down.

I burst out in laughter at the absurd image of Clarice Huntington Kim Exley ever being rogered at any time in her life.

"Hell, nobody ever said you had to have an orgasm to get pregnant, and I'm pretty sure my mom only had sex the one time with my dad."

"I think you could be right, my luv," Mino said. He had met my mom a couple of times so he knew what he was talking about. "At least she got it right and made you if it was just the one time," Mino joked and I laughed some more.

My parents divorced when I was fourteen—probably from a lack of regular rogering and the realization that they had absolutely no interest in each other, but to be fair, they'd both stayed in the same general area until I'd graduated high school. My mother would hop across the pond to London when the mood struck and I would take great delight in shocking her with my friends, lifestyle, and general obnoxiousness until she'd had enough of that particular visit. Her new husband, Frank, was much older than her, much richer than my father, and probably delighted when she left San Francisco on her trips. I doubt she got much rogering with Frank either. Maybe Frank got some when she was traveling but who the hell knew. My mother and I were at odds most of the time.

Now Daddy was a different story. He'd always been my go-to parent. He called me regularly and supported my choices. He loved me for who I was. And in my darkest hour was the sole reason I am still here walking the earth. I wondered what Dad would think of Lisa.

Mino took off to chat up some hot blonde as a possible lay and I stayed and sipped my Olympic Flame.

"Hey, lovely lady, those are some purty purple boots you got on there." A big guy with red hair, sporting his own pair of boots, western jeans, and a belt buckle in the shape and size of Texas loomed over my table. An American for sure. There were tons of people filtering into London for the Olympic Games and this guy definitely looked like a European virgin.

"Thank you. I collect cowboy boots." I smiled at him.

"You collect cowboys, huh?" He dragged his eyes over me leeringly. "Then I s'pose I'm in the right place." He sat down next to me, his big body crowding me on the lounge seating. "I'll be your cowboy if you want," he muttered the rest under his alcohol breath, "you can ride me."

I scooted over on the seat and turned away.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"My name is, I'm-not-interested." I stone faced him. "And my middle name is, You've-got-to-be-kidding-you-drunk-pig."

"Now is that any way to be friendly to your American guests all the way here from Texas?" Big Red leaned closer and laid his arm on the back of the seat, pushing up against my side, his leg plastered next to mine, his breath blowing in my face. "You don't know what yer missin."

"I think I have a pretty good idea." I leaned back as far as I could from him and scooted further down the seat. "Do they teach you manners in Texas or do the girls there like obnoxious drunks who proposition them in public?"

Big Red did not take the hint, or maybe he was too dumb to comprehend my question because he grabbed my hand and lurched to his feet, pulling me along. "Dance with me, honey."

I balked but his grip was so strong I didn't have a chance against his tremendous mass. He was like a hairy red caveman who'd had too much grog, jerking me against his body and slithering us around the dance floor. His hand covered my ass and started creeping up my skirt. That's when I picked up my boot and rammed the heel down as hard as I could on his toe.

"Get your hand off my ass before your balls become pom-poms for my boots. You have two balls and I have two boots—one for each." I gave him a fake smile.

He grunted at me and narrowed his eyes. I could tell he was contemplating if I was serious or not and then he made a sneer and backed off of me. "Cold, English bitch," he muttered, weaving through the crowd, off to harass some other poor person most likely.

"I'm an Korean, you asshole! From the good part of the country!" I yelled at his back before spinning into the hard wall of a male chest. A chest I'd been up against before. A body that carried the scent of pure intoxication for me. Lisa.

She did not look happy as she scowled at the retreating bulk of Big Red and then back at me. Lisa pressed her hand to my back and pushed me toward a table. I could tell she was pissed. But even angry she still looked beautiful in her black t-shirt, dark jeans, grey jacket, and that wickedly serious glare on her face.

"Why are you here, Lisa?"

"It's a damn good thing I am, isn't it? That ape was all over you—his mitts on your ass—no telling what he would have tried next!" she glowered at me in the plush seat, her jaw a hard line, her lips set in a slash.

"I believe I handled him very well all on my own—"

Lisa took my face in her hands and kissed me, holding me trapped to her mouth, pushing her tongue in, demanding I allow her access. I moaned and kissed her back, tasting only mint and the faint taste of beer. I still couldn't believe she was a smoker. I could never smell it on her. Even if I'd wanted to deny her kiss, saying no to Lisa was next to impossible. I always wanted her. She pushed all the right buttons for me and for that reason she was dangerous.

"Look at you," she said slowly, eyes raking down at my outfit and then back up to my face, "it's a miracle there aren't fifty hard-ons trying to get at you."

"Nope. Just two—Big Red and you."

"Who?" she narrowed her eyes.

It was my turn to raise a brow at her. "Mino was with me until a few minutes ago, and I'm gonna let that one slide, Lisa. Not sure where to go with it." I folded my arms beneath my breasts. "Are you supposed to even be here, Lisa? Better yet, how did you know I was at this particular club? Are you stalking me now?"

She raked a hand through her hair, and looked away from me. A bleached blonde cocktail waitress appeared instantly, blushing and jiggling as she took her drink order. I'm sure Miss-Sex-On-The-Beach wouldn't bat an eyelash if Lisa asked her to sit on her lap. Seriously, how did she even come to a place like this without women stumbling at her feet?

When Lisa asked me if I wanted something from the bar I simply shook my head and lifted the drink Mino had bought me. The waitress gave me a look as she took off, hips swinging.

"What do I do for a living, Jennie?" Her voice was steely and I had to give her credit for not looking at her ass considering she practically waved it at her like the Olympic flag, and the fact she was speaking toward the dance floor, sweeping the room with her eyes.

"You own Manoban Security International, Ltd. and have the tools at your disposal to stalk your dates?" I said sarcastically, tilting my head in question.

She spun back to me and flicked her eyes over my body. "Oh, we're well past you being just a date, my beauty." She leaned in, her lips at my ear. "When we fucked in my bed you passed into uncharted territory—trust me on that one."

My heart stuttered at the look on her face and the words she'd just spoken. Instantly wet for her, I tried to steer the conversation away from the sexual. I don't know why I bothered though; Lisa probably knew I was panting for her as we sat together.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Song's credit card popped up. Only the work of a moment." She reached for my hand and caressed it with her thumb. "Don't be angry at me for coming. I would have just stayed back if you were with your friends but that fucking cowboy put his hands on you." Lisa brought my hand up to her lips, the brush of her lips a touch I was beginning to love and take for granted. "I wanted to see you having fun. You looked so sad the last time I saw you in that cab."

Lisa smiled and her whole face changed.

"I love when you do that," I said.

"Do what?"

"When you kiss my hand."

She looked down at my hand, still clasped in her. "It's a very lovely hand, and I would be devastated if anything ever managed to harm it."

Her eyes returned to mine again but she mostly stayed quiet and watched me, rubbing circles with her thumb or pulling my hand up to her lips when she wanted to. Lisa needed to touch. It was just something she did that I understood about her. And oddly it comforted me. I couldn't explain it really but I knew how she made me feel when she touched me. I suppose it was something I should talk to Dr. Roswell about at my next appointment.

Lisa's choice of words struck me as unusual though. She was definitely overprotective, like she worried about me getting hurt. That train pulled into the station six years ago, Lisa.

Mino and Rosie showed up, did the meet and greet with Lisa, and then slipped away about as inconspicuous as frat boys at a kegger thinking they were playing it cool. Whatever. I'm sure they would stay up half the night speculating anyway.

When her drink arrived she used her left hand to hold it. Lisa never let go of my right one. Not until she put me in her car to drive me home.

She kept looking over at me in my seat, pulling my eyes to her repeatedly; arousing me to the point I felt the urge to squirm to relieve the ache between my legs.

"Why do you keep staring at me like that?" I finally asked.

"I think you know." Her voice was soft with a hard edge to it.

"And I want you to tell me because I really don't know."

"Jennie, I'm looking because I can't keep my eyes off you. I want to be in you. I want to fuck you so badly I can hardly drive the damn car right now. I want to come inside you and then do it again. I want your sweet cunt wrapped around my cock while you scream my name because I made you come. I want to keep you with me all fucking night long so I can take you over and over again and you don't remember anything else but me."

I gripped the armrest and shuddered, sure a mini orgasm just rolled through my body. My panties were so wet I could have slipped down the leather seat if my boot heels weren't dug into the carpet of the Rover.

By the time Lisa pulled up to the curb I was shaking. She got out and came around to open my door. She didn't say anything and neither did I. At the porch I fumbled for my key and dropped it. Lisa picked it up and got it in the lock and us into the foyer. She held my hand through five flights of stairs, neither of us saying a word.

I pushed open the door to my flat and Lisa followed me in. And like other times, the instant we were closed together in privacy, a different person emerged. A person barely contained in her hunger for me. I knew I would not say no either.

My back hit the wall and I was lifted off my feet in two seconds. Lisa's mouth was on mine, probing and seeking two seconds after that.

"Wrap your legs around me," she said, tightening her grip on my ass.

I did what she told me to do. Spread against the wall, my purple cowboy boots dangling to the sides like a frog for dissection, I surrendered to whatever she had planned. I accepted that Lisa drove this part of us—the sex. She was in charge of every commanding thing she would do to my body, and I craved her touch far too much to have second thoughts right now.

"Unzip me and take out my cock."

I did that too. Her hips pulled back to give me access, but her mouth and tongue still plundered as I unzipped her jeans and sprung her, hard as bone and sheathed in silk. I stroked her flesh with my hand as best I could and reveled in her guttural hiss at my touch.

Lisa got her hand up my skirt and her fingers under my thong. She ripped it up the back, snapping the material like a rubber band before impaling me on her enormous erection. I cried out as she filled me, so stretched by the size of her I convulsed from the sensation. She held me suspended for a moment, our bodies finally joined.

"Look at me and don't stop." She tightened her hands under my ass cheeks and started pumping into me. Hard. Deep. Punishing really but I didn't care. I wanted this from her as I stared into eyes burning fire at me.

"Lisa!" I moaned and writhed against the wall of my flat as she fucked into me; her cock owning me from the inside out. I kept my eyes on her. Even when I could feel the pressure start to build in my womb, and the tip of her penis hitting the deepest spot she could reach, I kept looking at her. The intimacy was off the charts and I could not have looked away if I'd wanted to. I needed my eyes wide open.

"Why am I doing this, Jennie?" she demanded.

"I don't know, Lisa." I could barely speak.

"Yes you do. Say it, Jennie!" I tensed as an orgasm started to rule me but she immediately reduced the pace, taking it down a notch with slow pulls in and out of my spread sex.

"Say what?" I cried, frustrated.

"Say the words I have to hear. Say the truth and I'll let you come." She speared into me slower and nipped at my bare shoulder with her teeth.

"What is the truth?" I was starting to sob now, completely at her mercy.

"The truth is," she grunted the rest on three, hard, punctuating thrusts, "You. Are. Mine!"

I inhaled on a cry at the final thrust.

She sped up again, fucking faster. "Say it!" she growled.

"I'm yours, Lisa!"

The second I said the words her thumb found my clit and released the orgasm, rolling and crashing as hard as a powerful wave breaking onto the shore. Like a reward for obeying her. I cried through it, pinned to the wall of my flat, Lisa still going hard at me through the shearing pleasure.

A roar came from deep within her chest as she started to climax; the stare of her eyes almost frightening. She thrust hard one final time, buried to the hilt as the hot seed pulsed up to soak me. She crushed her lips to mine and kissed, rocking the last few slides slow and gentle as she finished. Her strong arms still held me up and I don't know how she managed to do it but she did, kissing me sweetly and in total contrast to the sex-crazed madman of a moment ago.

"You are," she choked out, "mine…"

She set me down from the wall, holding me steady until my feet were solid, and then pulled out of my body, breathing hard. I leaned against the wall for support and watched her tuck herself back into her jeans and zip up. My dress fell back down. To anyone who walked in at this moment, there would be nothing to show we'd just fucked each other's brains out upon the wall. All an illusion.

Lisa put one hand up to my cheek, holding me captive but gently to face her. "Goodnight, my beautiful girl. Sleep well and I'll see you tomorrow."

She brought her hand over my face, over my lips and chin and throat and down my front. The look of longing told me she didn't want to leave, but I knew she was going to. Lisa kissed me on the forehead so softly. She paused and inhaled like she was breathing me in, and then she walked out of my flat.

I stood there after the door closed, my body still humming from the orgasm, my ripped underwear up around my waist, the warm trickle of semen starting to flow down my thigh and listened. The rap of footsteps following her retreat was a sound not to my liking. Not one bit.