Author foreword: This project is most certainly a child of lockdown and the virus. I started writing "Driving Miss Lawrence" on 28
th
Feb 2020 with the intention of it being another Jack Spencer two or three chapter tale of debauchery. Then it kind of got away from me, and I was tinkering with it over the months, to the point where I had not published anything in a year, which was absolutely not my intention. Just as I was getting ready to wind up this story, another idea would pop into my head and on we went. The most difficult part was eventually to write the ending, but I managed that a while back, then took time out on some other projects before coming back to share this with you. It's in six chapters that I will release a few days at a time, and I do hope that you enjoy it. Comments are always welcome.
Jennifer was half awake in the darkness, her head gently but insistently thudding to remind her that mixing the antibiotics and the free booze on the flight to London had been a very bad idea. The room was unfamiliar, but these days the interminable press junkets for her movies meant she spent a lot of time travelling and spending a single night in one hotel room after another. She picked up her phone, briefly unable to focus but used the light from the screen to find a bedside lamp and turned it on. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she cast a glance around her, and it felt very different from the endless array of cookie cutter hotels she had been spending her time in.
The room was tastefully decorated and she could see her clothes neatly folded on an armchair in one corner, though she had no recollection of doing that and frankly she normally tossed her things in a pile when traveling, so it looked as if someone had tidied up after her. At the bedside cabinet was a welcome bottle of water and a couple of pills in their packet with a lavender scented note to say to take them in the event of a sore head. It was signed Debbie with a little heart over the 'i', which she thought was kind of cute. Her head reminded her of the need for these so she gulped down half the bottle and took the pills.
Feeling slightly more together, she decided to go to the bathroom, and slipped out from under the duvet, putting her feet tentatively on the warm, soft carpet. She wobbled as she stood, walked to the doorway and turned on the light to find a small but rather nice en-suite toilet and shower. She flipped the lid, dropped her shorts and sat, still trying to gather herself. A few minutes of gently massaging her temples and her head started to ease, with the painkillers finally kicking in. She flushed, stood and washed her hands and took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. The eyes were unsurprisingly baggy and bloodshot, though for sure she had seen herself in worse states than this. The pink tee shirt and shorts were confusing her. She didn't own anything like that never mind remembering packing them, and a peek out into the bedroom confirmed no case, only her small trolley bag that she took onto the plane.
Now a little anxiety started to kick in...where the fuck was she, why was she in these pyjamas, and where was her damn suitcase? Going back to the bed, she picked up the phone and now able to focus she saw what looked like dozens of messages, emails, and at least five voicemails. Then it started to come back to her. The flight from LA the previous day. The doctor prescribing antibiotics for a persistent cough the day before, but assuring her that she was fit to travel, but to avoid alcohol...ah fuck it the complimentary Buck's Fizz and a couple of glasses of wine with her meals had left her feeling woozy and a lot more drunk than they should have. Arriving to discover the stupid fuckers had lost her case, and vaguely recalling an angry exchange with the airline who promised to get her bag there as soon as they found it.
She did remember getting collected by her driver, who was surprisingly great and started to sort things out. She recalled a conversation in the car where there had been a small fire at her hotel and being completely unable to get a half decent room anywhere. Jack, yeah that was his name, had taken her to his house while they sorted out her accommodation, but had little recollection after that, with a combination of pills, booze and jet lag defeating her and passing out on a couch.
So she was at his house...maybe. No locks on the doors told her for sure that she was not in a hotel, but she had her phone, and someone had got her undressed and in bed, left her the water and painkillers too. Was it the redhead or the blonde...she kind of remembered a polite and pretty redhead getting her some tea when she arrived. The blonde was kind of a knockout, pretty smile, fab body and an accent she wasn't familiar with. Oh god...she had changed her into these things so had definitely seen her naked, though thanks to the iCloud leak so had most of western civilisation. Jennifer may even have pulled her in for a hug and slightly tearful thank you when she finished. Fuck this was going to be really embarrassing when she saw these people sober. Jennifer was scrolling through answering messages and emails assuring her manager, her agent, the PR people for the movie and her mother that she was fine and would speak to them later. It was still dark outside, but she could not fathom how long she had been out for, though her phone told her it was a little after three in the morning. Now though she was thoroughly awake, and horny as fuck too...her nipples had been standing to attention since she had woken, and she gave them an experimental brush of her fingers that confirmed her arousal in no uncertain terms, accompanied by a moan which she immediately stifled. The people in this house obviously had looked after her, but masturbating and giving them a free sex show was not in her plans!
Still she felt majorly turned on, and wondered if a bit of quiet self pleasure might help relieve that and help her to relax and get back to sleep. Before she could decide there was a definite moan of pleasure from a woman through the wall. If you spend enough time in hotels you eventually hear people fucking or masturbating, and Jennifer recognised that sound well enough. She did wonder if perhaps she had some voyeur tendencies, as she almost always pleasured herself when that happened. More moans, definitely a woman and definitely having a good time.
She briefly put her ear to the wall, and was treated to a symphony of the sounds of sex. Squeaking bed springs, the gentle slap of flesh on flesh, a commentary of moans, sighs and encouragement to do more like it. In her head Jennifer now envisioned the driver Jack and the redhead going at it, him pounding her from behind. One hand slipped under the tee shirt now and twisted and pulled her nipples as she listened to the sex show next door. Now she heard a second voice, female also and thought it might have belonged to the hot blonde from earlier. Maybe she was banging the redhead, and whilst she was fairly sure that she had little interest in women, she still enjoyed getting off to lesbian porn, and here she was getting a live sex show through the wall.
