Jenny Ch. 03 - The Whiskey Sours

We arrive at the hospital and go to the auditorium where red and green ribbons hang from the ceiling and a huge artificial Christmas tree decorated with glitter and snowmen and red balls sits in a corner. The room is almost empty. Disappointment registers on Jenny's face when she sees that the bar is not yet open.

A hospital administrator appears and he and Jenny chat interminably as I stand silently in the background. At first I think that he is the one with whom Jenny has fallen in love and will be fondling her ample breasts tonight while I ponder life without my soulmate, and I feel reprieved when she becomes annoyed with the man's sycophancy.

She moves on to others who pass through the administrative wing where the auditorium is located and I listen with interest for a clue to who my rival might be or any hint of Jenny's future plans. After listening to thirty minutes of boring chit chat, I too am ready to get drunk.

The bartender arrives and we go over to the bar, conversing idly with him as he sets up.

"A Whiskey Sour," Jenny demands when he is finally ready to begin serving.

"A Corona," I request, after he fills Jenny's order.

Jenny takes a gulp of the Whiskey Sour.

"I got drunk for the first time drinking these when I was a freshman in college," she announces.

"I thought you only drank wine," I counter.

"That's right. I do. This is only the second time in my life that I've drank hard liquor."

"What happened the first time you did?"

"That's a funny thing. I don't remember."

"You don't remember or you don't want to tell me?"

She rests her hand on my forearm.

"You hit the nail on the head," she says cryptically.

The room gradually fills up with the physicians from the medical staff as we sip our drinks. One of the partners in her medical practice greets Jenny, who then introduces me. He seems surprised to see me in her company.

"I doubt that anyone from the information technology service will be here tonight," he apologizes, consigning me to the realm of lesser beings who aren't members of the guild of the healing artisans.

Rebuffed, I leave the two of them and head back to the bar. Finished with my Corona, I use a scotch on the rocks to allay my fear that I am about to get dumped.

I pass by a no longer ill at ease Jenny who is animatedly conversing with three of her partners decked out in tuxedos. I feel foppish, dressed as I am in the green sport coat and red tie picked by me to reflect the season, as I try to make small talk with the leaders of the more formally attired local medical community. I finally get into a conversation about major league baseball with a chubby female family practitioner with short dark hair, similarly underdressed in pants and a white blouse.

I get another scotch and stuff a twenty dollar bill into the glass the bartender has set aside for tips, hoping for good luck. Maybe the fat family practitioner will want to fuck another geek like herself after Jenny dumps me.

I set my drink down on the bar and the music begins to play. I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and see Jenny.

"Let's dance," she commands.

I am led by the hand to the middle of the dance floor. No one else is dancing. The DJ is playing 'Bad Girls'. Jenny sways to the beat of the music while I randomly move my arms and legs in a vain effort to imitate my partner.

I have never been able to dance.

Upon seeing my predicament, Jennifer stops dancing and breaks out laughing. My anger surges and I want nothing else than to leave the company of the woman who is laughing at me the same way kids in eighth grade laughed when I tried to dance then.

But instead of pointing me out and getting the whole crowd to join in my humiliation, she strides up to me, throws her arms around the back of my neck, and plants her lips on mine. Her tongue penetrates my mouth. Not knowing what else to do, I wrap my arms around her, pressing her tightly against me.

Her tongue massages mine and it feels good, better than anything I'd ever felt. My member hardens. Jenny grinds her crotch against mine. Our lips are still together and I do it. I stick my tongue in her mouth.

I hear her moan softly as she uses my member to pleasure herself. I tighten my embrace and she rubs herself against me even harder. The song stops and our lips break apart. The couples standing around the dance floor applaud and Jenny acknowledges them with a nod.

"You're so cute," she tells me.

I release her from my embrace and she leads me away from the dance floor. Her partners greet her with exaggerated gestures of surprise over our display of affection while sipping champagne as we pass them by. Jenny's face reddens as we approach the bar.

I am not the least bit embarrassed. I finally conclude that I am the one.

"I need another Whiskey Sour," she announces to the bartender.

"You won't get sick, will you?" I fret.

"It's almost Christmas!" she counters.

"But you're a Jew!" I reply.

"I don't know what the fuck I am tonight."

I ask the bartender for a soda, needing to have a drink in my hand but wanting to maintain a bit of sobriety lest I snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

Only ice is left in the glass that had held Jenny's second Whiskey Sour.

"Don't you dare stop drinking!" she shouts, spraying drops of spittle onto my face.

"Don't you think one of us should keep their wits about them?"

"What's he been drinking?" she asks the bartender.

"Scotch on the rocks," the bartender replies.

"Give him another one," she commands.

The bartender looks at me, I nod my approval, and he places the drink in front of me. Jenny opens her purse and I watch her fumble to get her wallet out. She places a dollar bill into the glass the bartender has set aside for tips, and then seeing that it already contains a twenty dollar bill, retrieves a C-note from her billfold and leaves it for a tip.

"Merry Christmas! Maybe I'll get lucky tonight," she tells him, her words slurred after gulping down the Whiskey Sour. We leave the bar hand in hand.

She leads me out of the auditorium into a dark hallway. The noise level has pleasantly decreased but we can still hear 'Wild Horses' by The Rolling Stones playing.

I am suddenly ensconced in her embrace and right in front of the office of the hospital president she begins leading me in a slow dance.

"Is this where you bring all your men?"

"No," she replies, her voice suddenly serious.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that."

"You're fine. Don't worry," she replies. Again she begins to grind against my tumescent organ.

"Rick, I haven't been with anyone for a really long time."

"I've wanted this for a really long time."

"And you're going to have it."

I plant my lips on hers and we kiss again. Our tongues dance in the chamber of love our lips have created.

"Hey, get a room!" some lout shouts.

"Maybe we better get back to the party," she says disappointedly.

There are more couples dancing and Jenny drags me into their midst. 'La Bamba' is playing. My soulmate forces me to mirror each of her moves and I finally manage to move to the music by the time the song is over.

I use my newly acquired skill to accompany my partner on the dance floor for a couple more songs. The DJ then decides to take a break and the loud music is replaced by the twittering of the crowd.

We grab some food and I, now her beau, stand proudly in Jenny's embrace as she talks hospital politics with her colleagues. My mind drifts as I hear nothing of interest to me. Strangely, I think not of what awaits me when my soulmate and I are alone together tonight. It's as if we've always been like this.

The minutes pass slowly and my head begins to ache as the alcohol wears off. I sense that Jenny feels the same, the gleam leaving her eyes as one of her colleagues drones on about the hospital's failure to keep its promise to upgrade the operating rooms.

"I need another drink," she says with mock seriousness when we finally break away.

"What will you two have?" the bartender asks.

I'm ready to say, "Scotch on the rocks," but before I can utter a word, Jenny interjects in her drunken voice, "He can't have anything!"

"It won't matter. I'm not touching your car tonight."

"You're damn right. But there's something that I need you to do later," she explains.

The bartender smiles and Jenny says commands him in too loud a voice, "Give me another Whiskey Sour!"

She smiles at me lasciviously as the bartender makes her drink. We head to the nearest table and then, suddenly chivalrous, I pull out a chair for her.

"Why thank you, Rick."

She takes a sip of her drink.

"I'm drunk," she quips.

"It's OK. We all need to let loose sometime," I reassure her.

"I really shouldn't have. I feel like a slut now."

My mood sinks. She is reverting to platonic Jenny. I might not get any tonight.

"You're anything but a slut!"

"What else is a girl who kisses you and rubs up you that way?"

"A woman in love."

She says nothing and takes another sip of her drink. And then another sip and another sip as she ponders my words. Soon the glass is empty.

"I'm sorry RIck," she says.

"I'm not."

"Can you call Uber?"

We make sure that the Jaguar is locked and a few minutes later our ride arrives. We hold hands as the driver takes us back to Jenny's home, staying on our respective sides of the back seat, fearful of what a display of affection might lead to.

We arrive at her residence and Jenny pulls out a wad of bills and hands it to the driver for a tip. I don't think she's counted it.

We walk up the driveway to the mini-mansion owned by Jenny and a local bank. She is humming the tune to 'La Bamba'. Although the gleam is back in her eyes, I wonder if I will end up crashing in the guest bedroom where she has until tonight consigned me whenever I visit.

She stops in front of my rented Mercedes.

"I've never made out in the back seat of a car. Do you want to?" she asks, mischief in her eyes.

I click the keyless entry. The doors unlock as an electronic chirp emanates from the vehicle. Unable to wait, Jenny throws her arms around me and my glasses fly down onto the ground as our lips meet.

She tries to lead me in a dance on the slick pavement as I try to avoid destroying my glasses and struggle not to fall. I open the back door of the car and she falls inside, giggling as he lands softly on the back seat.

I retrieve my glasses from the pavement and get into the driver's seat. I press the starter button and the motor comes to life. Chimes sound, imploring me to buckle myself in. I turn on the fan and the heat to maximum and try to figure out how the tuner on the radio works. My member stiffens in anticipation of what is about to happen and my warm breath surrounds me in a cloud, condensing on my cold glasses as I search the dial. Finally hearing something I like the sound of, I turn off the headlights and join my soulmate in the back seat.

We're too big to lie atop one another, so Jenny sits on my lap facing me and our lips meet. She pulls down my zipper as we kiss passionately. She wraps her right hand around my rigid cock, now wet with my secretions, and strokes it hard.

I reach underneath her and begin fingering her through her underpants. She shifts her crotch to position my index finger on her clitoris. Her body stiffens and, no longer interested in kissing me or fondling my cock, she sits up straight. Her eyelids droop and the corners of her mouth rise so that a slight smile lights up her face. As her excitement builds, it looks like she has stopped breathing, her chest only allowing in a little air after a soft grunt or a moan.

Completely under my spell, if I stop for an instant, she will start to grind on my finger, savoring every moment of excitement. I see that the car windows have become opaque, the moisture evaporating from our bodies having condensed on the glass.

It doesn't matter what happens after this. We can go into her bedroom and fuck or just go to sleep, because now she's mine, I know.

Jenny grunts loudly and then is stiff and motionless. She then collapses on me and her breaths become long and deep.

"I've never had one when I've been with a guy before," she whispers.

"I love you, Jenny."

She lifts her head and we kiss again. Her right hand finds my cock again and she starts lightly stroking me.

"Rick, I love you too."

"Will you still love me when you're sober tomorrow?"

"I loved you back when we were in college and I still love you now."

"Then why didn't we do this before?"

"I was shy when we were in college and then when I got into medical school I thought I had to put my life on hold. And when I found out how successful you had become, I figured you wouldn't need to bother with someone as unimportant as me."

But she isn't telling the whole truth, which is a subject for another story.

"You're my first. The most I've gotten after a date is a peck on the lips."

"I don't believe that."

"I started thinking I couldn't even get laid in a morgue."

Jenny's chest rocks with laughter.

"You're gonna get laid tonight by someone who's heart is definitely beating!"

She gets off my lap and puts her shoes on while I lean forward and push the button to turn off the engine. I grab the handle to open the car door but am interrupted as Jenny wraps her arms around me and presses her lips against mine.

"You're so much fun to kiss!" she says playfully. Her eyes are lit up by love and lust after she releases me from her embrace.

We stagger to the house hand in hand. I shiver as Jenny fumbles through her purse looking for her house keys. When she finally opens the door, I scoop her up in my arms and carry her across the threshold.

"Just like newlyweds," she remarks.

"You've been my woman since the day we met."

I carry her to her bedroom and lie her gently on the bed. I take my shoes off and lie next to her, still fully clothed.

I remember falling asleep on Jenny's bed in college and sometimes, if she did not want to awaken me, she would fall asleep next to me. But she gave no indication that she wanted to be touched, and I scrupulously avoided touching her at all, lest she think I was going to force myself on her. So upon awakening, I would always leave, fearing the smallest touch would be deemed inappropriate by my friend, who would then never again speak to me.

I lie stiffly, despite our make out sessions, feeling like the nerdy college student, wondering if I'm welcome in her bed.

Did she really say I was going to get laid tonight?

I just fingered her. So I must be welcome in her bed!

But what if she's changed her mind? What if she just wants to go to sleep? It's her house and I've just taken up half her bed with my stinking body!

Before I've had a chance to rue over my misgivings very long, Jenny turns to me.

"You look uncomfortable," she says as she loosens my tie.

"I shouldn't have lied down here. I can go to the other room.

"No. You're staying here with me. And tomorrow I'm going to get drugs from the hospital that will make you go to sleep. Then I'm going to drag you down to the basement and lock you in there. And then you'll be mine. Forever!"

"That's funny. I was thinking about doing something similar to you."

We both laugh loudly.

Jenny gets up and straddles me. She undoes my tie and casts it on the floor and then unbuttons my shirt, exposing my pale chest. While grinding on my rigid member, she unbuckles my belt, unbuttons my pants, and pulls down the zipper. Then moving to my side, she pulls down my trousers and Jockey shorts.

My rigid cock stands at attention for her. She wraps her right hand around it and starts to lightly stroke my member.

"It feels so good to do this in my own house. No roommates, maids, parents, brothers, or sisters to open the door and disturb us."

She kneels between my legs and leans forward. I watch my cock disappear into her mouth as I am fellated for the first time in my life.

My excitement builds. I grab the sheets. Instinctively, I thrust my penis into her mouth.

My arousal builds. Her lips and tongue feel so much better than my hand. And I haven't even been inside her pussy yet!

My fellatrix has gotten me ready to explode but what if I do? Is it gross to cum in a woman's mouth? Will Jenny feel like a slut tomorrow when she remembers what I did? Porno films show women eagerly swallowing semen, but is this what happens in real life?

She knows what's going to happen. She's a doctor. But maybe she doesn't know how close I am.

I want to cum so badly now. But what if she decides tomorrow this was a mistake? If I don't fuck her tonight, will I ever get to have sex with a woman who wants it because she likes me, not because I have a lot of money? Wanting to know what the inside of a pussy feels like is the only thing that holds me back as I grit my teeth and tense my muscles trying to hold back my orgasm.

I am relieved when she expels my dick from her mouth. She rises up, sits between my legs, and takes my rock hard cock in her right hand and begins lightly stroking it.

"You liked that, didn't you?" she asks. Wet with my secretions and her saliva, my cock glistens in the moonlight streaming in through her bedroom window.

I smile and nod in agreement, still trying to hold back the inevitable.

"I can't believe that some girl hasn't fucked your brains out yet. You're kind and gentle and not bad looking. Those eyes-they're so innocent. You're honest. You care about other people's feelings. You'd never hurt a fly. You'll be a perfect dad. What more could a woman want in a man?"

I shrug my shoulders.

She looks beautiful in the moonlight. On her face is a slight smile. Not the smile of actresses and models who know how to pose so that their beauty is captured perfectly by a camera lens, but the smile of someone who is happy. The moment of our love is not something that has come upon us; it is as if it have always had and will always have.

Her gems glitter in the moonlight. Her breasts are pert and her nipples are erect. I no longer feel like I need to ejaculate; I feel like I can just lie here forever and gaze at her illuminated by the moonlight and listen to her soft voice as she strokes my cock.

"Now I'm going to do something now that I've wanted to do for a very long, long time," she announces.

I watch as she pulls the little black dress over her head and tosses it onto the floor, She unhooks the clasp between the cups of her black brassiere and they fall away, exposing her bosom. She wiggles her torso and her bra falls off her shoulders. She then rolls over my right leg, landing on her tush, and proceeds to remove her black bikini panties and thigh high hose.

She lifts herself onto me, straddling my legs again, and then moves herself forward, smiling naughtily as her pudenda approaches mine. An instant later, I feel the lips of her wet pussy kiss my rigid member. The urge to ejaculate returns as the walls of her vagina slide over my cock. I listen to her sigh as I enter her.

She looks down on me with love as we savor the feeling of being linked intimately for the first time. I feel her body slowly moving up and down. How my cock feels in her wet pussy is even better than the way it felt in her mouth when she teased me with her lips and tongue.

It occurs to me that there's a good chance I will impregnate her.

The religion whose tenets I violate too often and the church I don't attend is the Roman Catholic. I think a person should either believe or disbelieve what they're parents told them to, so I'll never change. It begins to nag at what's left of the good Catholic boy in me that if I impregnate her, she might decide to have an abortion (not that it wouldn't be her right).