Goodbye Jennifer Brown Ch. 02

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Chapter 2.

The visiting manager from head office was 42 years old. He was reserved, efficient, highly successful, and (as Jennifer Brown had been quick to appreciate) quite handsome.

Today, however, he was not feeling efficient or successful, he was feeling deeply frustrated. He had planned to spend two days in this one-horse town getting the company’s regional office in order, but he had apparently underestimated both the scale of the job and the incomptence of the middle managers. The only person who was of any use at all was the bloody secretary. But today not even she had managed to turn up. It was looking as though he would have to extend his booking at the local hotel to the end of the week, and he was not happy about it.

He was still glowering as he stalked through the foyer of his hotel, carrying his briefcase and heading for his room. He paused in front of the lifts, then suddenly changed his mind and turned away, making instead for the busy lobby bar.

‘Whiskey on the rocks,’ he muttered to the bartender. ‘Room 16.’

At the sound of his voice a woman a few barstools away stiffened, and flashed him a glance. She looked away again almost immediately, almost as though she was embarrased, which was a little odd. He shrugged and picked up his drink, but in the absence of anything else interesting to look at he found his gaze drifting back to the woman at the bar.

She was worth the second glance, he decided. Her hair was loose and thick, and dyed a firey red which was quite arresting. She was a bit on the plump side but she was wearing a tight black skirt that hugged her bum and legs all the way to her knees, a wide red belt, and a white blouse unbuttoned over a generous cleavage. Someone had done her makeup in great dramatic style, with red lips and sweeping bonus veren siteler dark eyeliner.

He realised he was not the only one observing. Out of the corner of those sexily painted eyes she was watching him too. Well, he was here alone for another night and it had been a shit day, what was the harm in a little conversation. If it came to nothing he’d still have something nice to think about while he masturbated later.

He closed the short distance between them.

“Good evening,” he said. But that was all.

The woman was looking straight at him, a little quizically, her cheeks a little flushed, her spine very straight. But after a couple of beats she almost seemed to relax a little, and she replied, just a little hoarsely, “Hello.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

She smiled slightly. “Yes. Yes you can. Better make it a double, though.”

He inclined his head. “Certainly. A double what?”

“Oh, a double anything actually. Whiskey. Vodka. Rocket fuel.”

“Has it been a bad day?” He barely took his eyes from her as he placed an order with the bartender.

Her drink arrived and she took a quick gulp, grimacing slightly, then half-smiled. “A bad day? No. It’s been a … revealing day.” She met his gaze, again with that slightly secretive, inquiring look. “I hope, however, that it’s going to end a very good day indeed.”

He frowned slightly. “I’m sorry, but you remind me of someone. Have we met before?”

Her smile turned into a teasing grin. She had lovely little white teeth. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly say for certain. You must meet so many people!” It was as though she was playing a game with him, but he had no idea of the rules. He was intrigued in spite of himself.

“Tell me then, what has made your day so revealing.”

“Well, bedava bahis I met a very interesting woman. One I hope to develop a very rewarding friendship with in time. But you don’t want to hear about that. Surely you’d rather hear why I’m hopeful that my day is going to end so well?”

“Sure, tell me that.”

She turned and leaned in toward him, as though she was going to tell him a secret. Her blouse gaped invitingly, and all the gentlemanly insticts in the world couldn’t keep his gaze from dropping. Her breasts were pale and round and barely confined by a pretty white lace push-up bra. His cock, already stirring, filled and lengthened appreciatively.

“I’m hoping,” she whispered huskily, “To find someone in this bar to take to bed with me.”

Well, that was it, there was no way he could stand up now.

“I see,” he responded, as gravely as he could. “Who did you have in mind?”

She leaned back again, tapping her full bottom lip with a red-painted fingernail.

“I did consider the barman, first,” she said consideringly, “But I think he might be a little young for me. Then again, he’d probably be very virile. He looks like he’d have a lot of energy, don’t you think?”

They both looked at the bartender, who was probably in his early twenties, tall and lean, with dark floppy hair and fashionable stubble. He was polishing glasses, oblivious to their assessment.

“Hmm. He does seem scarcely out of the school room. Aren’t you worried he might prove a little… premature?”

The woman’s delighted gaze returned to him, and he was surprised by the jolt of pleasure and relief it gave him to have her attention again. She was enjoying their game very much, her eyes were practically sparkling with excitement. It amplified deneme bonus his own excitement too.

“Premature? Well, maybe. But I feel sure I’d be able to … resurrect him. Again, and again if need be. You see,” and again she leaned forward to confide, and again he saw the straining of her bra and felt an echo of it in his pants, “I have a lot of … energy too.

He cleared his throat. “I see. Anyone else?”

“Well, do you see the man in the corner, the one in the jeans and boots?”

“Yes. The one with his mate, looks like he’d drive a ute, lining up the beers.”

“I’ve been thinking about him, too. I’ve caught a few lines of their conversation, I think he’s recently broken up with a girl and he’s drowning his sorrows. I thought maybe he’d like someone to … take his mind off things. I thought, an enthusiastic blow job and a quick fuck with a stranger would suit us both pretty well. We could both go home happy after that – surely!” She looked at him from under her eyelashes. “Don’t you think? Wouldn’t that make you happy?”

He took a deep breath, apparently having forgotten to breathe while she was talking.

“No,” he answered firmly.

She looked downright dismayed and he found it fucking enchanting but he didn’t smile. “No?”

“No. That would not make me happy. It would be gratifying as hell and a great end to the rubbish day I’ve had… But what would make me happy is to take you upstairs… Push you up against a wall, rip open your blouse, lick your breasts until you’re wet and squirming, then push your underwear aside and fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked before. Then,” he pushed a lock of hair out of her face, loving that he could hear her panting softly as he spoke, “Then I’d like to undress us both, stand with you in a steaming shower, and fuck you again. And then I’d like to lie you naked on my bed and explore every last inch of you as slowly as I like, finding out what you like, and make you come… hopefully for the third time.”

He leaned back. “That would make me deleriously happy.”

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