Jaq

This is another long one, more than twenty-four thousand words, which is why it's in Novels and Novellas. It contains depictions of straight, lesbian, and group sex. If that's not your thing, stop now and turn around. If you're still here, I hope you enjoy...

Jaq.

She walked to the end of the street and stepped into the bus shelter out of the fine drizzle. Checking both ways along the road, she moved to the back corner of the small concrete building. The stench of piss and cheap cider made her gag, so she quickly reached down and pulled her long socks from below her knees, to mid thigh. Pulling the tails of her white blouse out at the waist, she rolled the waistband of her skirt a couple of times, until the hem was just above the tops of her socks. Checking the street again, she loosened her tie and unfastened two buttons of her top. Her shoulder bag yielded a small mirror, eye-liner pencil, and lipstick.

Her fingers shook a little as she applied a thick line around each eye, then painted her thin lips black. Satisfied with her new look, she put away her makeup and watched the bus approach.

The rain was heavier now, and there were hurried footsteps running up behind her as she climbed the step and showed her student card to the driver.

"University campus," a voice gasped behind her. The driver issued the ticket and the bus pulled away from the curb.

The damp red-head smiled as she took the seat in front.

* * *

"Good morning," the balding man said as he entered the room. "I'm Bob Pickering. You can use Mr Pickering, Bob, or professor, I'm not fussed which. I'd like to know all your names, please," he said, opening a folder, "so I can begin to get to know you all."

He pointed to a man close to the front of the lecture hall. "We'll start with you."

He checked off names from his list and got a little information from each student.

She was the last one he came to. "And you are?" he said.

"Jaq Bailey," she said.

"Jack? How are you spelling that?"

"J A Q. Short for Jaqueline. I don't like my name that much."

Professor Pickering nodded. "Noted. I'll try to remember. Are you local?"

"I just moved here from London, with my mother," Jaq said. "But I grew up around here, as a child."

"Well. Welcome to you all. You have your reading list for this semester, and I hope you have already sourced the main course books. We'll start, today, with..."

The door burst open, and a bedraggled girl staggered into the room.

"S-s-sorry I'm late," she said. "They told me the wrong building."

Professor Pickering smiled and glanced at his list. "Ms Andrea MacKinnon, is it?" he asked.

"Um, yes. I prefer Drea."

"Noted, Ms McKinnon. Please join us."

"You were on the bus," Drea whispered as she took the seat next to Jaq.

"Mm Hmm. I'm Jaq," she said, as the professor launched into an outline of the year's syllabus.

* * *

Jaq grimaced at the lukewarm, bitter coffee. She pushed it aside and retrieved a can of cola from her bag. Drea joined her at the cafeteria table, sliding a loaded tray of food across the Formica top and dropping into the seat next to Jaq.

"You're going to eat all that?" Jaq said.

Drea smiled. "I missed breakfast, and I won't have time for dinner. I'm working tonight."

Jaq nibbled her tuna sandwich as she watched the small woman pack away three courses. Drea was at least four inches smaller than her and, though she had a nice figure, was by no means fat.

"Where do you work?" Jaq asked.

"A filling station in King's Heath. I work seven till midnight." Drea pushed away the tray, belched, and giggled. "Sorry!"

Her eyes drifted to Jaq's left ear, and she reached up and touched a small piercing. "This is a tragus, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Jaq was a little uncomfortable with the girl's touch, but it would be rude to pull away.

"What's this called," Drea said, stroking the long bar piercing the top of her ear in two places.

"That's called an Industrial. It hurt like hell."

"I think I want one of those," Drea said, pulling back her explosion of crinkled red hair to show unmarked pale ears.

"Get one, then."

"Can't. Mum won't let me."

Jaq gave her a quizzical look. "You're eighteen. You can get what you want."

Drea shook her head. "Not while I live under her roof. She won't let me have tattoos either. I'm here on a scholarship, or we wouldn't be able to afford for me to come at all."

"Well," Jaq said, clearing her rubbish into a bin. "I'll get you an Industrial piercing when you get your own place."

Drea smiled happily as she cleared her tray. "What do you have in the other ear?"

Jaq pulled back her hair, longer in her right side, and showed a total lack of piercings. Drea gasped as she spotted the small, red heart tattooed on the ear lobe. "That's beautiful."

"My mum doesn't think so," Jaq said. "She almost had kittens when I got it done. I was only sixteen."

"How? You have to be eighteen, don't you?"

"Friend of a friend was learning. She didn't ask too many questions."

* * *

Jaq and Drea parted company as they got off the bus. Jaq wandered up the street to number 42, letting herself in and shedding her jacket by the door.

"Mum?"

There was no reply, These days there never was. She found her mother in the lounge, still surrounded by packing cases from the house move. Akari Bailey was perched on the couch, a forlorn figure, hunched over a photo album, tears dripping from her cheeks onto the plastic coated pages.

"Mum."

"Oh, hello love. I didn't hear you come in. Do you get off for lunch?"

"Mum, it's almost five o'clock. Have you been here all day?"

Akari closed the album and placed it beside her on the couch. "I have some nice chicken for out dinner," she said, standing. "I'll go and start it while you get changed." She looked more closely at her daughter, now. "Is that what you were wearing this morning?"

Jaq looked down at her short skirt and thigh-high socks. "Kinda. Dress is a lot more informal at Uni. I changed it a bit."

Akari nodded and turned towards the kitchen. "I wish you'd grow your hair. That boy's style doesn't suit you."

Jaq sighed and headed up to her bedroom. She stripped out of her clothes, already planning what to wear next day. She stopped as she passed the big mirror. She didn't like her body. She wanted breasts, but took after her mother's side. The small bumps with their puffy nipples were all she was ever going to have. Like her straight black hair and almond eyes, they came from her grandfather's Japanese heritage. She worked hard at her study of Taekwondo, and had managed to develop a small, rounded butt, muscular legs and strong arms, but her tits were a lost cause.

The steaming hot water of the shower soothed her, and she soaped and rinsed her body and hair on autopilot. Her fingers drifted to the sparse black triangle over her pussy. Dipping a single digit inside her, she massaged her stiff little clit with the other hand. Her back was pressed to the cold, white tiles as she scrunched her eyes closed and hunched her shoulders, fingertips flying over the sensitive bud as she jammed another finger inside her wet tunnel.

"Gah!" she shrieked as her pussy spasmed around her hand. She slid down the wall, wet fingers going to her mouth as she sucked her spending from them.

"Jaq? Are you ready for dinner?" came her mother's voice.

"Coming!" Jaq called, then grinned. Cumming was more like it.

* * *

Jaq put away the last of the dishes from dinner and hung up the dish towel. She stood behind the couch, watching her mother turn the pages of an even older book of photos.

"I'm going over to Uncle Alan's, Mum."

"Ok," her mother said. "Give him my love."

"I'll probably stay the night," Jaq said, picking up a small backpack. "I've got my stuff for Uni tomorrow." A picture caught her eye. "Is that you and Uncle Alan?"

Akari quickly flicked the page, the back of her neck reddening. "Yes, there are a few of me and him about somewhere." Her mother closed the book and turned to smile at Jaq. "I'll see you tomorrow night then."

Her mother looked at the stack of packing cases. "I'll try to do better at unpacking tomorrow," she said.

"It's Ok," Jaq said, hugging her mother. "Dad dying so suddenly like that... It's hard... for both of us."

"I love you, Jaq."

"Love you too. Mum."

* * *

Jaq thought about the picture of her mother and Uncle Alan as she walked over to his house. He wasn't a real uncle, but she'd called him that all her life. He was a university friend of her mother's, though the picture she'd just seen suggested they might have been more than just friends.

She'd grown up only a few streets from here. Her father, Thomas Bailey, had returned from Japan in 1996 with a master's degree in Japanese art and a new wife. Akari, ten years his junior, started at the university, while he went to work at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery.

Jaqueline Ann Bailey had arrived a few years later, just after her mother graduated with a bachelor's degree in English Literature. Two days after her eleventh birthday, the family had moved to London for her father's prestigious new job at the National Gallery.

Alan Floyd's house appeared on her left, and she walked down the side path between the house and the garage. The side door of the garage was open, and she stepped inside.

Alan's red Triumph Spitfire sports car stood gleaming on the far side of the building, but close to the door sat the frame of an early Honda 750 motorbike. The fuel tank lay on the work bench, alongside the dismantled top end of the engine.

Jaq picked up a piston, noting the scoring on the side. There was a soft noise behind her, and she spun around, a grin splitting her face.

"What are you doing her, nosey girl?" Alan said.

"Checking up on you," she said. "I hope you're replacing those pistons."

"Getting it re-bored," Alan said taking the piston from her hand and setting it back beside the other three.

Jaq reached up, wrapping her arms around Alan's neck. She pressed her body to his as their lips met.

He pushed at her as her tongue slipped between his lips. "What are you doing?"

"Taking up where I left off," she said, pulling him in for another kiss. His arms encircled her, hesitated, then hugged her tight.

"This is wrong," Alan said, sitting down on a stool beside the work bench. "It should never have happened."

"I enjoyed it, I'm guessing you did too," Jaq said, running her fingers across his biceps.

"It was a one-time thing, Jaq."

"Um... about a dozen times, over three days, Alan."

"You know what I mean," he muttered. "Your dad had just died. Your mum sent you here to get away from the media circus. We were both upset. I was only trying to comfort you. Things got out of hand."

"Do you wish it had never happened?" Jaq said, a tear forming in the corner of her eye.

"Don't do that. Don't turn on the waterworks. No, I don't wish it had never happened, but it shouldn't happen again."

Jaq glared at him. "I started masturbating when I was fourteen," she said. "There was one fantasy in my imagination. You. I told myself that one day, when I was a woman, I'd give you my virginity. You made my dream come true, you fucking bastard. Don't tell me it wasn't good for you too!"

Alan held the sobbing girl, feeling the wetness of her tears on his shirt. He stroked her fine black hair until her breathing slowed and she looked up at him.

"I'm old enough to be your father, Jaq."

"You've got blonde hair and grey eyes, Alan, I'm a quarter Japanese. I can assure you that you're not my father."

"You know what I mean, brat."

Jaq looked into Alan's eyes. "I'm going to take my clothes off in a minute. Your choice is whether to fuck me over your work bench, or take me up to your bedroom. Which is it going to be?"

Alan took her small hand in his and led her into the house.

Jaq's eyes never left Alan's as she shimmied out of her jeans and slipped her sweater over her head. She stood watching as he pulled off his trainers and a pair of cargo pants, then took off his tee-shirt.

"Wait, I want to," she said as he hooked his thumbs into the waist of his boxer shorts. She knelt before him, reaching up to slide his last garment off. His stiff cock caught on the elastic waist and bounced as she freed it. Her small hand encircled the thick shaft as he stepped out of the discarded underwear.

Alan moaned as Jaq's mouth covered his leaking tip. She licked at the pre-cum, then sank half his shaft into her mouth. She gagged a little, then bobbed up, gasping before forcing him to the back of her throat again.

"Jaq, go easy," he said, grasping at her short hair. "Stop or I'm going to cum. It's been a while for me."

Jaq smiled around the fat intrusion and renewed her efforts.

"I'm... I'm gonna cum!" Alan grunted, as the first volley of hot semen splashed into her throat.

Jaq swallowed fast, just keeping up with the flood of sticky cum that filled her mouth. She nursed his cock until there was nothing left to take, then let the softening member slip from her lips.

"Come here," Alan said, pulling her to stand. He reached for her mouth, his lips ready to claim hers.

"Cum breath," she said, pulling back.

"Don't care."

His hands caught the edge of her camisole, pulling it up to bare her small breasts. Jaq resisted the urge to cover them with her hands. Instead, she slipped off her black lace panties and jumped onto his unmade bed. She lay back, self-consciously spreading her thighs, running her fingers through her tidy patch of dark hair.

"Eat my pussy, Alan," she said.

He moaned, "Oh fuck," as he crawled onto the bed, his head sinking between her legs.

She gasped as his tongue licked the length of her dripping slit. He slipped it between her lips, the hot, wet feeling driving her crazy as she tried to grip his short hair and press her cunt against his gritty face.

A thick finger wormed its way inside her as his mouth clamped over her clit. Her mind went white for a moment, then colours began to bubble up, rainbows soaring behind her closed eyelids as she climbed to her orgasm.

Alan's strong hands gripped her hips, fingers sinking into her flesh as she bucked and gyrated her way through her climax. Jaq realised she'd been screaming, just as she stopped. She opened her eyes to gaze down at her lover's dripping face.

"Come up here and fuck me hard, Alan," she said. "Remember the second time we did it? The time after I gave you my cherry?"

"Yeah," he panted.

"Do it like that."

"Condom."

"I'm on the pill now. Get that thing in me."

Jaq shuddered as his strong body towered over her. She felt the tip of his cock touch her labia, then he was sinking into her. Their eyes met, unblinking, as Alan's pubic bone met hers. Her mouth was open, a perfect circle as he pulled back and drove in hard.

"Unngh! Yeah. Like that," she grunted.

"Like. This. Baby?" he asked, slamming his impossibly hard dick home with every word.

Words had left her now. She was aware that she may be dribbling a little as sharp sounds exploded from her lips with each stroke.

"Uh, uh, uh, fuck, uh, cum, uh, uh."

You want it in you?" Alan whispered as his cock seemed to swell inside her.

All she could do was stare into his eyes and nod her head. She was on a knife edge. His fat cock was crushing her clit on every stroke, her orgasm was just there, waiting to roll over her.

Alan pulled his hands from the mattress either side of her head and placed them on her chest. His weight forced the breath out of her lungs, then she felt his cruel fingers grip her hard nipples.

It was a perfect storm. Pain shot from her small tits to her throbbing clit, just as Alan groaned and his semen flooded into her pussy. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body shaking, out of control. The wail that escaped her throat was almost inhuman as she writhed and shuddered beneath him.

His weight settled on her, chest hair glued to her sweaty tits. Her eyes opened and his face was right there. Her mouth latched onto his, tongue searching, teeth nipping. Animalistic. That's what she had become. Barely even human. She pulled him tight to her. Sweat mingling, his juices running down the crack of her ass. His cock began to soften and she pulled him even tighter.

"Don't move," she growled. "Stay there."

It might have been five minutes or an hour. He was hot. He smelled of sweat and engine oil. His unshaven face nuzzled her neck. Sharp teeth nipped at the tattooed earlobe. Finally his cock fell out of her slippery slit.

"Good?" she asked, as he rolled off her.

"I've never..." he began, then gave up. "Yeah."

* * *

They'd showered and changed the sheets on his bed. Alan lay on his back, Jaq pressed to his side, a leg thrown over his, her head on his chest. He smelled clean, now. Soap and coconut shampoo. Yet still she could get a slight scent of sex from his warm skin.

His callused hand reached across and stroked her breast.

"Not enough there to bother with," she mumbled.

Jaq squeaked as Alan turned her on her back and threw his weight on top of her. He gripped her wrists, pinning them above her head as he straddled her hips.

"Don't!" he said.

"What? What's wrong?"

Alan's eyes were cold, grey. "Don't put yourself down. We just had the most amazing sex of my life. You are perfect. Your body is perfect. Your tits are perfect. Do you hear me?"

For the first time, Jaq was frightened of the big man. Alan saw the fear and released her, rolling to the side of the bed and sitting with his head in his hands.

"Sorry. I'm sorry!"

Jaq sat up and climbed to the edge of the bed, sitting beside Alan. "It's OK."

"No, I frightened you. It's just... I don't want you to ever think you're not enough. You are. You're beautiful, and strong, and clever. There is nothing you can't aspire to, Jaq. Your tits don't define your worth, and I love them as they are... love you as you are."

"No boob job, then?" she asked.

Alan glared at her, then saw the cheeky smirk on her lips. "No. Never."

Jaq cuddled into his side. "OK."

"Come on, get dressed," he said. "I suppose I'd better feed you."

Jaq licked her lips and stared at his cock.

"Food, you nymphomaniac!"

* * *

A frozen pizza and oven chips filled their bellies, and they sat, quietly, sipping on bottled beers.

"You and mum," Jaq said. "You were more than friends."

"What makes you say that?"

"She was looking at old photos. There was one of you and her."

Alan nodded. "And?"

"You weren't a university friend, were you? You were in uniform in the picture I saw. You had her in your arms and your hands were on her ass."

Alan was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "She told me she'd burned all the old pictures years ago," he said.

"This was after her and dad were married. You were having an affair, weren't you. You were fucking her."

Alan's head dropped. He gave a resigned smile. "What do you want me to tell you?"

"The truth, Alan. You've been inside me today. Don't I deserve the truth?"

"We had an affair for a year. Your dad was in Japan with your grandfather on some buying spree for the museum. We did things we shouldn't have."

"Why did you stop?" Jaq asked.

"He was due to come back. I wanted Akari to leave him and live with me. She said no."

"That's when it stopped?"

"I got stationed abroad," he said. "I think that's one reason she refused me. I'd get these short postings at almost no notice. I could be gone a week, or a year."

"What did you do, in the army?"

"This and that. Mostly driving."

"Drivers don't get sudden postings like that. You said I deserved the truth, Alan."

"I can't tell you." Jaq began to object, but Alan raised his hand. "I can't tell anyone, Jaq. Official Secrets Act."