Helping Jeanny [5]

"How's the reading?" I ask Jennifer, who has just come out of the courtroom. She's so tense and scared that she screams at the top of her lungs. The police officers guarding her are instantly triggered and point their guns at me.

"Hey... hey... take it easy," I say to them while raising both my hands.

"Jesus Christ! Why did you surprise me like that?!" Jennifer scolds me. Then she says to the officers, "It's okay, gentlemen. I know him. He's a friend."

"You're so tense," I remark with a grin.

"Imagine being the one targeted for murder—tell me, can you really stay relaxed?" she grumbles.

"Relax... you're no longer in danger," I assure her. She squints her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" she asks, confused.

"The reading is over, right? His time is up," I reply.

"So, if his time is up, he won't come after me anymore? I'm afraid he'll become even more obsessed," she says, clearly not trusting me.

"Just... trust me on this, okay?" I assure her.

"How can you be so sure?" she asks, interrogatively.

"He's an assassin. He kills because someone pays him. His work has a deadline. Once his time is up, he won't go after you because he won't get paid—even if he manages to kill you."

"How do you know so much about assassins?" she asks, growing even more curious. I shrug.

"I learned it from movies." My answer makes her roll her eyes. Even though she doesn't let her guard down until they reach the police car, I manage to relax her a bit.

"Do you mind if we have dinner?" she suddenly asks once inside the car. I raise an eyebrow. "I mean, to properly show my gratitude for your help," she continues. "Belladrick is guilty as charged, and that wouldn't have happened without your help."

I shrug again. "Sure," I reply.

"Great," she responds, then hands me a name card. "Please contact me so we can arrange a time and place." Then she closes the door, and the car drives away.

The dinner is set for two days later. She chooses a luxurious restaurant where, no matter how rich you are, you won't be admitted unless you're properly dressed. So, I have to wear my formal suit—and I hate wearing suits.

When I arrive, she's already there, wearing a formal yet simple black dress. The dress features a Sabrina neckline with spaghetti straps. Her neck is adorned with a diamond necklace, and her hair is styled up.

"You look good in a suit," she compliments me.

"You look beautiful as well," I reply politely.

The dinner starts off awkwardly, but it improves after her third glass of wine. The wine loosens her up, and she begins to talk a lot—mostly about her work and some law jokes that, honestly, I have trouble understanding.

"So, what do you do, Bennet?" she asks.

"I'm a freelancer," I lie with a straight face—I've told that lie more than a thousand times already.

"Interesting," she says, taking the bill offered by a waiter and simply signing it—seemingly a member of the restaurant. She then sips her last glass of wine. "What kind of projects do you usually do?" she asks more intently.

"Nothing special... just eliminating people," I answer casually. As expected, her eyes bulge, but when she sees me laughing, she giggles. "I just do random stuff... things that people can't do on their own," I add.

"You can't be good at everything," she says in disbelief.

"I'm not, of course. I have a team—we're each good at our own skills," I reply.

"What are you good at?" she asks again.

"Sex," I answer plainly. She laughs.

"You're funny, Bennet," she says between laughs. I simply smirk.

I stand and pull out her chair as she begins to rise. "Thank you. That's so nice of you," she says with a softened glare.

I walk her to her car. The view of her from behind is very alluring. Her simple black dress isn't so simple after all—it features a very low back cut that only covers from her waist down, showcasing her back to the fullest. She has a sexy back.

"It's been a nice dinner," I say—a signal that it's time to say goodbye as we arrive at her car.

"It really has," she responds, staring at me in a daze.

"Are you sure you can drive?" I ask.

"Sure... sure," she says, then walks to the car door. She tries to open it, but fails—the door won't open. She attempts again, only to trigger the car alarm. I sigh.

"Let me drive you home," I say, taking the key from her hand. I press the button to disable the alarm and unlock the car. I then help her into the passenger seat before settling myself behind the wheel.

She sleeps throughout the entire journey to her home. Fortunately, her address is saved in the car's GPS. To my surprise, she lives in an elite apartment building. Her family must be rich—there's no way her salary as a D.A. could afford such a place.

In the parking basement, I wake her up. She invites me in for coffee, and I agree, entering her apartment.

"Wow, this coffee is really great," I compliment as I sip.

"I told you I have the best coffee," she says, then sits beside me on the couch, sipping her own mug.

"So... I won't see Jeanny again after this, huh?" I ask after a while, raising one corner of my lips. She nods.

"Yeah, Jeanny has done her duty," she says, nodding again.

"To be honest," I say, pausing to sip my coffee, "I hope you don't take offense, but I like Jennifer's appearance a lot more than Jeanny's."

"Thank you," she replies softly.

"Yeah... but I like Jeanny's personality more," I add, glancing at her for a reaction. She doesn't seem angry or insulted. I sip my coffee again.

"Tell me... how can you be so natural playing Jeanny? I mean, both of you are bold, but Jeanny is so aggressive, wild, and... flirty," I ask.

Jennifer turns to me. "Would you believe me if I told you that Jeanny is actually the real me?" she asks. I don't respond—inside, I don't believe it.

"The legal world is a man's world. A woman is considered too weak and emotional, so I learned to act more like them—logical, cold, ruthless," she explains, then sighs. "I guess... I got carried away."

"Actually, men think more with their dicks than with their brains," I remark, chuckling.

"I'm surprised you admit that," she says amusedly. I shrug.

"You've already proven it," I remind her of that shameful night. She laughs.

She continues laughing as she runs her hand through her hair. "You're so funny, Bennet," she says.

"You don't even say sorry," I pout theatrically.

"Do you still want your compensation?" she asks. My eyes light up for a moment as I notice her blushing cheeks. I reach for her cheek, softly tugging a few strands of hair near her ear.

"Nah... dinner is enough," I tell her afterward. She looks at me in surprise, perhaps a little hurt by my rejection. I glance at my watch. "It's late—I have work tomorrow," I continue before finishing my coffee. "Thanks for the coffee. It really is delicious."

I stand and walk to the front door. Just as I'm about to open it, something—well, someone—pushes me toward the door. I turn, and at that very moment, a pair of lips attacks mine

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[WARNING 18+ ONLY]

Both of her hands cradle my ears while her lips devour mine. She's still wearing her heels, so our heights are almost equal.

She teases my mouth open with her tongue. I willingly part my lips, meeting her tongue with mine. Her hands travel to the back of my head at the same time I do the same for her. We push each other's heads to deepen the kiss, sucking the breath from each other's lungs.

She pulls away slightly to catch her breath. I bite her lower lip and take a deep breath before closing the gap between our mouths again. Her hands wander to my neck and then to my suit jacket, attempting to peel it off my body.

She withdraws her lips from mine and moves them to my ear. But I half-force her face upward to meet mine and steal another kiss. I still haven't had enough of her kiss—it's intoxicating. I could kiss her for hours, yet she clearly craves more than just kissing.

My suit jacket is already discarded on the floor. Once more, she breaks our kiss to pull my shirt off and begins unbuttoning it. My hands roam over her sexy back while my lips nibble along her ears and down to her neck.

"No hickey," she warns me between breaths. I obey, ceasing my desire to suck her soft skin. Instead, I lick the hollow of her neck. She shivers under my touch.

My hands reach her waist and zip down her dress. With my mouth, I bite the fabric that still clings to her right shoulder, helping slide the dress off.

She lifts my head to meet her kiss again. Then, while we're kissing, she turns me around so that she's sandwiched between me and the door. She's already unbuttoned my shirt and is now trying to remove it completely. I get the message—she wants to race to get naked first. Of course, I don't intend to lose.

My right hand flicks the fabric on her left shoulder, breaking it—it's less than half a centimeter thick. Once the dress is off halfway, her breast pops up.

"You broke my dress!" she pouts.

"Sorry," I say in a hoarse tone. As an apology, I let her take off my shirt easily while my mouth busily explores her breast. Her nipple is still secured with tape. When I bite the tape off, she moans. I suck on her bare nipple to intensify her moans.

She then voluntarily slips off the other strap of her dress, and it drops off in one motion. Now we're both chest-naked. I suck on her right breast while massaging her left.

She rides my waist, dropping her heels along the way, once again demanding my kiss. I clearly don't mind—I love kissing her. We continue kissing furiously as I carry her.

"Couch or bed?" I ask, panting.

"Bed," she answers shortly before kissing me again. "To the left," she directs. "No, my left," she corrects when I head in the wrong direction.

I open the door and gently place her on the bed. She wriggles up as I unbuckle my belt and drop my suit trousers.

I crawl to her, burying myself in her kiss again. It's rare that I find myself more interested in lips than in breasts, but I don't let my hands idle—I massage her breasts while she catches her breath.

"Let me pamper you. I wanna hear you scream," I murmur in a low, hoarse tone. This elite kind of woman clearly loves to be pampered.

"Oh, I wanna know how you try," she replies seductively.

I trail my lips southward, inch by inch, nibbling, licking, and kissing her soft skin gently enough so as not to leave a mark for tomorrow morning.

I reach the skin between her breasts and alternate sucking on each nipple until they're both hard and erect. She hisses in pure pleasure. I continue further south until I reach her navel, licking it to send shivers down her spine. I love her scent—it's a mix of sandalwood and delicate flowers.

I lick her navel once more before moving my lips to the area just below her belly, while my hands slide smoothly down her panties. Now completely bare on the bed, she waits for my next act.

I decide to give her a tongue service. My face hovers just in front of her "mountain." She shivers as she feels my warm breath on her opening.

"What are you doing?" she asks, her head lifting slightly.

I smile mischievously and then trace my finger along her opening. She gasps, her eyes wide. I rub my finger a few more times before slowly inserting my index finger inside her. She throws her head back onto the bed, her hands clutching the sheets as I move my finger in and out. She tilts her head from side to side.

I add another finger, and she moans in pleasure. Her eyes squint shut, and she bites her lip to stifle a scream. I quicken the pace of my finger movements. She opens her mouth briefly but then covers it with her hand. To my surprise, a couple of seconds later she arches her body and lets out a muffled scream.

I withdraw my fingers and inhale their scent—her liquid smells clean and fresh. I can't help but put my fingers in my mouth and lick them dry; they taste good too. I wipe away some juice that's still flowing and then lick my fingers again. It arouses me even more.

I take my trousers and retrieve a condom from the pocket.

"You brought a condom to dinner?" she asks in shock.

"Hey… I always prepare for the unexpected," I defend myself.

She doesn't argue further as I remove my boxers and roll the condom onto my already half-erect manhood. I then position my body back on top of hers, demanding another kiss. Her kiss quickly brings my erection to full hardness. I position it at her opening and rub it slowly. She moans while I nibble her neck, suck on her breasts again, and return to kissing her lips.

"Ready for your second climax?" I ask with a smirk. She stares at me, her face hot and red as I continue rubbing my buddy against her opening.

"Please… please, be gentle," she whispers, her voice betraying a hint of fear beneath the lust.

"I can't promise you that," I reply.

"I…I'm still a virgin," she admits shyly.

"What?!?!" I exclaim in surprise. "You're kidding, right?"

She shakes her head. "I was raised Roman Catholic, so I was taught that I can lose my virginity only after marriage," she explains. I pull away from her.

"Then why did you want to give it to me?" I ask, confused.

"Because… because…I'm already in my late 20s and still a virgin," she says, then buries her face in her palms. I sigh.

"I'm sorry. I don't do virgins," I say.

"Why?" she asks.

I shrug. "Too demanding," is all I say. In silence, I dress and lead myself out of her apartment.

I ride a taxi back to my apartment, completely forgetting that I left my motorbike in the restaurant parking lot. Oh well—I'm still in deep disappointment, and it only fuels my lust further. But it's late, and the Cougar Momma had already closed, so I decide to go straight back to my apartment.

I doubt my decision to forgo taking her virginity. But… "Naaah," I tell myself. It's not worth the complexity.

I've experienced sex with virgins twice before. Both times, they ended up giving me headaches afterward. Even though we agreed it was a one-night affair, both were so clingy—they called me every day, asking for more sex, even getting jealous and ruining my nights with other girls.

That's why I don't want to get involved with another virgin. And especially not Jennifer. She's not some stupid, silly girl I can easily discard. It would be too troublesome.

After grabbing a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, I collapse onto the couch. I turn on the television and switch to a porn site where I'm a gold member—I need to release my tension one way or another. I pick my most-watched playlist and decide on a blowjob scene.

An image of a blond with huge boobs appears on screen. I slightly lower my trousers and boxers and grab my still half-erect manhood. "Sorry, pals," I murmur.

I watch as the blond performs an erection that suddenly pops up on screen, taking it into her mouth like a lollipop and kissing the head with a satisfying murmur.

My hand grips my manhood and starts to rub it hard while I watch the blond lick the erection with twirling motions; her hand plays with her balls. She sucks on it and moves her head back and forth, letting her mouth thrust against it. I rub harder and faster as my erection grows bigger. I close my eyes.

When my eyes are closed, Jennifer's face suddenly appears—her full lips around my dick, sucking it hard while her tongue twirls it. Shit! I open my eyes, trying to shake off her image, but I know this is just a hallucination. In my eyes, the blond is now also Jennifer, winking naughty at me as she sucks my entire erection down to her throat, leaving no space uncovered.

My hand rubs my dick faster as I imagine her sucking it hard and furiously. When her teeth graze my skin, I cum with a loud groan. Thirty seconds later, when I open my eyes again, my body and the couch are a complete mess.

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