Jenny, Is Your Bed Still Empty? Part 3.

in #fiction6 years ago

Some people might call me a louse or a lech. Loving women isn't a disease. Trophies? I don't hurt people. I just like to have a good time.

A single silver point in the sky shines like a brilliant carving knife resting near an overstuffed Thanksgiving Turkey. We never knew him, not really.

The pain in my back is an afterthought. There's some kind of lump in the grass, which is quite wet. Half fizzled rings levitate upward from my just smoked menthol. I'm high as a kite. Kendrick was right. This is some good shit.

The loose shadow of a springy hangman protrudes outward for maybe 30 feet. Jenny sits within the darkness created by it's disheveled arm. She's all the way down, like I am. All the way down the rabbit hole.


Source: Pixabay.com

Despite my inebriated state, I pull myself back up by my shirttail so that I am leaning awkwardly against the huge figurine, accidentally tipping over my half opened green companion. Only a few left.

She flicks away the roach of our final joint with great precision, leaving an orange burning trail in the sky like a tiny comet.

There's work to be done here, and here I am lollygagging like some stoner pinhead. Before I can utter any random idiotic phrase Jenny speaks up for the first time of the evening.

"I'm not shy you know." she raises her head, tilting to look at me like a doll from an exceptionally uncomfortable Hitchcock movie.

"I'm ugly. The fateful bruise that life has forced upon me runs all across my soul. It's deeper than you can imagine. Hate, disgust, despair, rage.... they're all rolled up into a pretty black ball. I bet you'd like to touch it? Wouldn't you? WOULDN'T YOU?"

"Jenny." I reach out to place my open hand on her shaking shoulder, but she pushes me square in the chest nearly knocking me on my ass.

"It's what you want isn't it? WELL GO AHEAD THEN!"

She pulls down her tight black skirt and rolls down her flimsy stockings in one fell swoop. I'm a bit shocked to see that she wasn't wearing any underwear at all. The black scarf hangs down to her knees, her straight hair falls behind her supple butt cheeks, her Siouxsie and the Banshees shirt cuts off just below her naval. She is naked from the waist down.

I have to admit that I'm a little bit out of sorts at this point. I definitely feel my body reacting to the sudden stimulus. My drunken mind tries to create order from chaos but it's an impossibility right now.

She is mad. And naked. And hot.

I start to take a step but I'm not sure if I want to go forward or backwards. I think about what happened next a lot when I'm laying in bed late at night.

She lurches forward like a steam train, grabbing my right hand and thrusting it between her legs. I can feel that she's quite wet, and that is incredibly exciting to me, but she is squeezing my hand with a strength that is beyond anything I've felt before.

It fucking hurts.

I try to pull away but I just can't budge. I'm a pretty big guy. Strength has never been an issue.

Suddenly I see her left hand come down from behind her back, holding a foreign object that could not possibly be there. The cut is quick, if not particularly deep.

My shirt had said To all my ninjas. Now it said To all my followed by a huge blot of purple wine, which was actually fresh blood.

I guess it was the rush of adrenaline that comes from intense fear. Fight or flight. Or both, in the case. I pushed her hard against the metal man that stood towering behind us. Her head hit the side, making a loud clanking sound before she fell to her knees.

She was up in a flash, but not quick enough. A smoke shaped version of me lingered for a split second, as the actual me was already at my Golden Goose. "Good luck figuring your shit out you crazy bitch!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

She was rushing at full speed but my baby starts on time, every time. I can still see her in the rear view mirror when I close my eyes shrieking like a banshee out of hell.

I didn't get a picture out of this one.

In fact, I took all of the pictures down.

There's a dark well of loneliness inside of all of us. You can use that loneliness as a river to drown yourself, or you can build yourself a lifeboat and seek other people on the shore.

Jenny had been consumed by some horrible darkness. I never even found out what it was. She gave me a shallow cut, but she held a much deeper one within her soul. I truly do feel sorry for her.

She was wrong about me. I'm not a bad person by any stretch of the imagination. I love women, and I love life but I've never hurt anyone.... and I never will.

I do hope she figures all her shit out. She's gonna have to do it without me.

Part one is here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@jeezzle/jenny-is-your-bed-still-empty

Part two is here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@jeezzle/jenny-is-your-bed-still-empty-part-2

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Your story was very graphic @jeezzle. Do you like writing romantic fiction? You painted a very clear picture of your almost sexual encounter with Jenny after you smoked cannabis. I felt like I was there lol.

This is a really good short story. You painted a great picture for the reader. The beginning was a little confusing, but after a few paragraphs I started to catch on!

Damn women, they are crazy sometimes!

I don't really like writing romantic fiction that much but you never know what's going to come out sometimes.

Go here https://steemit.com/@a-a-a to get your post resteemed to over 72,000 followers.

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