Jack Meets Jill

Story Info
Tired man meets lovely lady at The Goblet.
2k words
4.26
26.4k
1
0
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Jack loved this chair. They called it "The Emperor's Chair" here at the Goblet. It was one of those deep, high and bow-backed chairs that's not quite overstuffed, with sturdy legs and a particular smell that remind one of aftershave, cigarette smoke, and creepy, long jazz tunes that swirl around like a haze. It was tucked away in a nice, dark corner from where someone could see the whole bar. They called it "The Emperor's Chair" because it enshrouded the sitter like a king or queen. The chair also reminded the bar manager of the chair the Emperor sat in during Return of the Jedi.

It had been one of those days that had seemed to last a whole week. Furthermore, it was a Friday. Jack hated long Fridays, when it seemed like work would never end. All he wanted to do all day was go home, take a nap, and then head to the Goblet for their late night jazz. He had to pull himself through a ten hour workday before he could do any of it, and he didn't get the nap.

He did finally get to the Goblet, however. He loved the place. It was a small jazz bar on the east side of downtown. The Goblet looked and felt like someone's den. It had a small stage marked off only by its slight elevation and the wrought-iron rail before it. Books that no one had ever heard of lined several of the walls and there were two small televisions that never had any volume whatsoever and usually broadcasted the Weather Channel or some ball game. There was one pool table, and it never cost a dime and never seemed to be constantly played. All of the furniture was stuff straight out of someone's aunt's house. It was all hardwood coffee tables and couches and divans and overstuffed chairs. There were two ceiling fans which did little but re-circulate the smoke and the scent of freshly popped popcorn. The bar wasn't very big, but seemed to have everything you could ever want. The music was never so loud that you couldn't hold a conversation, and there were plenty of nooks and crannies to cuddle up in with someone.

Bill Jackson and Friends were playing. Bill's saxophone sounds seemed to massage Jack's spine as he finished his rather timid ginger ale and got up to get another.

As he stepped up to the bar and began to order, he was halted by the smell of perfume. He couldn't place it, but it was intoxicating. It was the woman next to him at the bar. Her back was to him. She was talking to some giddy faced man holding a gin and tonic. She was in an olive business suit and had short brown hair cut in a style that made her look strong, but not butch. She was drinking something dark and was bored with the man's talk about golf. Jack could tell by her posture. It was too straight, almost flattening out the curves in her hips and legs.

"Can I get you something, Jack?" Bobbi, the always attractive bartender, asked him.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, still enthralled with the woman's perfume. "Just another ginger ale."

"Okay." Bobbi smiled and went off to make his drink. He was unable to keep his eyes off her for very long. He wanted to say something to her, but she was now talking a little bit with the man about landscaping. Jack decided not to interrupt her and try his chances later. Bobbi handed him his drink with a sly smile, and he headed back to the Emperor's Chair.

He discovered that the Emperor's Chair was taken by a rather stiff newcomer and moved to his second favorite place, a dark corner lit by one small lamp. It had a very dark divan that blended right into the shadows. He would often sit there all night and watch people walk by him without noticing he was there.

He took a sip of the ginger ale and leaned his head back onto the divan. He closed his eyes and let the saxophone sound drift across him like a cool breeze. The back of his head seemed to become heavy. He could feel his eyes start to roll up into his head. He was unable to stop them. He was finally going to get his nap.

"Excuse me."

His eyes popped open, and he quickly sat forward into the light of the small lamp. He ran a quick hand across his eyes and tried not to look like he had almost dozed off.

"Yes?" He quickly asked.

It was her. She was standing there in her olive business suit, with her tall, crisp, slim drink in her hand, and smelling great. The perfume filled every space of the dark corner. Shadows lovingly caressed across her body, making her almost a ghostly vision of seduction.

"Hi," she said, "What do YOU do?"

"I...I'm a cop."

"Is it more interesting than landscaping?"

"Much more."

She laughed a sexy, little laugh that made his stomach jump and walked over to the divan.

"Jill." She shook his hand.

"Jack." They laughed, and with that, they sat there in the darkness, completely hidden from the rest of the bar, and talked and talked and talked. She was fascinated with the cop life and several of his stories. She was a librarian and private tutor. She was from Chicago, he was from Tampa Bay. She was in town for a few days with nothing to do.

There was silence then. A silence so long that, to Jack, it felt like Bill Jackson and Friends could have played an entire set. He was about to say something, anything, but she stopped him.

She suddenly sprang forward on the divan and talked him with a hot kiss, full of tongue and passion. Jack nearly dropped his drink onto the floor and wrapped his hands around her shoulders. Her tongue filled his mouth and her hand yanked at his belt, button, and zipper. She wasn't wasting any time. Jack practically clawed at one of her breasts through her business suit until he felt two buttons pop off her shirt. Her bra was silky and electrifying. Her skin was hot as a sunbather's. Jack pinched her stiff nipple through the smooth fabric and gasped as she got his pants open and slipped her hand into his boxers.

Jill broke the kiss with a wet slurp, bit his neck, and slithered down his body to take him into her mouth. Jack's back arched off the divan, and her tongue caused his arm to jerk out and grab it for support. His thrashing nearly knocked the solitary lamp off the table, and he then realized that this strange, sensuous woman was going down on his right in his favorite bar where anyone could see them if they just walked back there.

Jack began to say something, but Jill's lips sliding up and down him turned his words into a shaky hissing sound. He turned off the small, dim lamp and plunged them into complete darkness. She giggled with her mouth full of him, sending hot shivers through his abdominal wall.

"Where do you live?" Jill asked in a steamy voice.

"Ten minutes from here," Jack huffed.

"Take me there," she begged. "We'll finish this."

The tires of Jack's Sunfire spun with fury as they peeled out of the parking lot of the Goblet. Jack was cutting down every back alley and shortcut he could find; rolling through stop signs and blasting through one red light completely. Jill's head was in his lap the whole time, making him grip the steering wheel so tight he thought it would snap off. He found himself nearly driving up onto the sidewalks and rear ending cars.

They pulled into the underground parking garage of the eight-story apartment where Jack lived. He took her by the hand and ran her to the elevator. Once inside, she pressed him against the wall and they locked lips again, sucking each other's lips and tongues and groping each other through their clothes.

The doors opened with a perfect bell chime and Jack ran her to the end of the hall where his apartment lay. He fumbled with the keys as she reached around and fondled his bulging pants. He shoved the door open, and Jill pushed him inside. She slammed the door as locked it as he dumped his coat on the hardwood floor of the hallway. He leapt at her, pressing her back up to the door. They kissed hungrily as he pulled off her jacket and clumsily worked at the buttons on her shirt. Jack slipped his hands inside her shirt and around her waist, walking backwards, pulling her after him, never breaking their lip lock.

They stumbled into the living room. The backs of Jack's thighs hit his couch and they fell back onto it. They bounced on the soft cushions and half fell onto the floor between the couch and coffee table. Jill sat up on the couch while Jack yanked down her skirt. He grabbed her low-cut panties at the hips and pulled them off as if they were giving her third degree burns.

She grabbed a painful handful of hair and wrapped one of her muscular legs around Jack's head. His tongue went to work immediately, licking and lapping with quick strokes on her clit. She bucked in short, little motions on his face and came quickly, almost like a pre-orgasm.

She pulled him up to her face, her fists full of his shirt and her tongue plunging between his lips. She pulled and yanked at Jack's shirt, like a boxer locked up with his opponent in the clinch. Jack's pants were shoved down to below his knees with two quick motions, and her fingernails stung into his back as she pulled him inside of her with one hand.

Jack's head shot back and he let out a loud breath from the sudden onslaught of heat and muscular silk. He grabbed two handfuls of cushions and began pumping, trying to control his breathing at the same time. Jill's arms moved up over her head so she could grip the back of the couch. Her hips moved in perfect time to him. Jack's arms were aching with stress from being locked rigid from the first wave of sensations. He managed to get them to bend at the elbow with great effort and nearly fell atop her.

Jill responded by tightly wrapping her arms around his back and biting down hard on the spot where his neck met his shoulder. Her fingernails scratched jagged lines all over him and felt like they would pull his shoulder blades out.

"Oh, Jesus!" Jack yelled and started to shake involuntarily from the chest up. He could hear Jill panting, gasping, and growling.

"Oh fuck, yes! Fuck me!" She yelled, making Jack shake even worse.

Jill started bucking and slapping up against Jack in short bursts and loud cries. Her inner heat jumped up five notches and Jack couldn't handle it anymore. She suddenly sat up with unexpected speed and propelled him back onto the coffee table so he lay criss-cross upon it. She rode him with her sweaty body, smiling down at him with a glowing face. Her hips made small circles on top of him. She licked her upper lip and laughed a deep, guttural, almost spooky laugh. Jack was breathing in quick gasps, synchronized with every movement of her body atop him.

Jill slid off him and dropped down to the floor as fast as a panther. She grabbed his slippery erection in one hand and kissed his stomach right at the base. Jack came and came and came, with a loud cry and his back arching so high he nearly slid off the coffee table. She kept pumping him of every last bit, it never seeming to end as it made him slick. His hot cum splashed her hair and cheek, making her giggle. She finally gave him a gentle squeeze that made him sit bolt upright. She kissed him sweetly and pulled him atop her and back onto the couch.

Jack didn't know how long they laid there, but he soon fell asleep for the best nap he had in weeks.

Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
Share this Story

Similar Stories

An Aggressive Learning Strategy A young Indian-American's woman's first guru.in First Time
Snowed In Co-workers find each other stranded at work on Christmas.in Erotic Couplings
Faith, Hope and Love A Holiday Romance.in Romance
The Hemingway Maid ('16 revision) or, an Essay on the Folly of Not Drinking Enough Rum.in Romance
Snowed In with the Boss Getting snowed in with the bitch boss turns into a surprise.in Erotic Couplings
More Stories