A Night At Debbies House

Please don't reproduce this copyrighted work without permission.

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A note of personal thanks to Bernard Lyons, a dear friend in Dublin, Ireland who provided me with his generous and timely editorial insight. Thanks B!

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The actors in this script are of legal age. This is a work of adult erotic fiction and contains descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults. If you're under the age of consent where you reside, delete this file immediately. If it is illegal to obtain adult literature where you reside, delete this file immediately. If it's entirely legal for you to read sexually explicit material, I hope you enjoy the story!

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If you haven't already read the previous five installments of the Jordan series, I suggest you do so before reading this sixth chapter for purposes of continuity.

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Just a final comment about the sex scenes. If you're searching for a story that's full of non-stop sexual activity on every page with very little plot and zero character development, this story may not be for you. This is a continuing erotic story about women loving and caring for women. The characters are portrayed in great detail and the story line – not the sex, is what it's really all about. If you still elect to proceed, I believe you will enjoy Jordan's continued exploits. Now, without further ado, on with the show!

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I grabbed the Victoria's Secret bags from my trunk and by the time I turned towards the house I almost did a double take. About seventy five feet away from where I was now standing I saw Erika waiting to greet me in her doorway. That in and of itself was not terribly surprising, since it was her house, but to see her wearing nothing but a black mesh body suit and her seven inch black heels nearly gave me a heart attack.

As I started to walk towards the door with my eyes fixated on the most perfect woman god had ever created, I knew I could not be any wetter down there if someone had just soaked me with a garden hose. I suddenly had a feeling that my time inside that impressive dwelling would become a defining moment in my life, as the very last thing I had on my mind before I kissed Erika was Debbie's face.

When I stepped through the doorway into the house it was nothing like I had expected or even hoped for. I had choreographed this scene in my mind's eye at least a hundred times since Erika invited me to spend the night with her, but it just felt . . . it just felt somehow strangely different to me. The sense of total euphoria that I had expected to simply overwhelm me within a nanosecond after first seeing Erika just seemed to be missing, but even more confusing to me - I had no idea exactly what I was feeling.

Okay, it wasn't at all what I had expected, but I wasn't exactly ready to push the proverbial panic button just yet. But I have to admit that I was combating cerebral overload right about now trying to fully understand exactly what was happening to me. With no answers readily apparent I finally decided to ignore my woman's intuition for the time and just wait and see what would happen as the evening continued to unfold.

Erika shut the door behind me and I guess the sound startled me somewhat because I instinctively jumped. My reflexive movement did not escape her keen eye. At first she chuckled at me and then quickly apologized. Then she walked past me in that incredible catch-me, fuck-me strut of hers with her heels clicking loudly against the wooden floor. For the first time since I arrived I could see the bodysuit had an open crotch and I felt myself swallowing hard at my discovery.

Erika seemed to be heading in the direction of the living room, smiling that incredibly sensual smile of hers as she passed me in the entryway bidding me to follow.

Watching Erika now was almost like an out-of-body experience of sorts. Unless you were actually blessed to see such a vision up close, you could not possibly imagine how simply stunning she looked, as she towered over me by more than a foot wearing that incredible outfit. To me it seemed as if it was made with her in mind.

I don't want you to think that this is a jealousy thing, but personally I believe that there should be some sort of law against anyone looking that incredible, especially when the person just happens to be an eighteen year old high school student. Alright, maybe it really is a jealousy thing, but at least I'm not from Wyoming and I don't need any counseling.

Well, at least I'm not from Wyoming.

Erika looked absolutely breathtaking in her body suit and the contrast of her long flowing platinum tresses feathered against the black outfit was simply spectacular. And if that alone wasn't sufficient to get my hormones in an uproar, the mesh body suit did very little to conceal her feminine assets.

Erika's nipples were undeniably hard and they were prominently on display as they had worked their way through the holes of the mesh. And it seemed almost as if she were toying with me when one minute they were fully exposed, and the next she would toss her head about and then they would once again be hidden behind her gorgeous locks.

As I followed Erika into the living room I knew my eyes were fixed on her perfect derriere and I suspect that she probably knew it too. At the same time something else became crystal clear to me. Of the many men and woman who seemed to lust after this beauty, I was keenly aware that very few would be privileged to be alone with her in the inner sanctum, as I now was. And suddenly that seemed to take on a different level of significance to me now that was somewhat unsettling.

Anyway, when we walked into the living room I really tried my best not to look too intimidated. I think most of my parents' house could have easily fit in that room; in fact as I continued to look around I was fairly certain of it. I'll desperately try to do the room justice.

We entered through a double set of wooden pocket doors that were stained in a light wood stain and both doors were currently fully opened. The walls were painted in a soft cream color and the entire floor was done in white speckled marble tiles. A massive dark green carpet was centered perfectly in the room covering about two-thirds of the total floor space, leaving a white tile border about six feet wide forming the outer perimeter of the room.

On the long wall to my left, the wall that backed up to the front of the house, a massive stone fireplace with a long wooden mantle was located at the center. There were four large intricately detailed models of the old clipper ships of the eighteenth century on the mantle spaced equidistant apart.

There were two large double windows located on each side of the fireplace. Wooden shutters were the only window treatments used on these windows and the shutters were left open at about ninety degrees, allowing the remaining early evening sunlight to fully invade the room.

Adjacent to each window, moving away from the fireplace, was a built-in bookcase in the same light wood stain that appeared to be dominant throughout the house. The bookcases were easily eight feet high and looked to be about as wide. All the shelves were full of books and the wear that was evident on the spines indicated that these books were not there just for decoration.

The wall directly opposite the door we just entered was perhaps the most interesting to me. At the center of that wall was a long wooden credenza, with a short wrought iron lamp at each end. Hanging directly above the credenza appeared to be a family crest with two swords lying across its face forming a design characteristic of the letter 'X.' The piece looked authentic and if I was to hazard a guess I'd say it must have easily been more than two hundred years old. But despite the obvious historical value of the family crest, that certainly wasn't the most interesting thing to me on that wall.

There were also four framed photos mounted on the wall, two on each side of the coat of arms, and they appeared to be at least four feet in height and about three feet wide. They were clearly professional photographs that were taken during Erika's modeling career, but what made them particularly fascinating to me was that they each seemed to be from a different time in her life.

The first photo on the far left captured her on a ski slope apparently modeling alpine sportswear or maybe it was even the skiing equipment. The shot did little to reveal the incredible body under all that winter gear, yet the same beautiful and captivating face was in the center of the print staring directly at you. I would have guessed the photo was about four years old, putting Erika's age at the time at about fourteen, yet there was little doubt in those eyes even then of the wonderful things that were to come.

In the second photo it was more difficult to determine her age, but I would have guessed her to be about fourteen or possibly a year older. She was lying on her back across a flat expanse of rock at the edge of a very large body of water and she appeared to be looking straight up towards the heavens. The time of day was near sundown and the sky was a fiery orange with the water shimmering brightly under the fading light.

Erika's tan was as dark as any I'd ever seen on anyone before and her hair was much longer than it is now and it fell straight down cascading over the rocks under her. Her head was positioned towards the left side of the photo and her legs were directly opposite pointing to the right side, with just her left knee elevated slightly. She was wearing a two piece bathing suit in a solid color that was nearly a match to the breath-taking orange sunset. Like the others, there were no graphics printed on the photo, so you weren't able to determine whether the photo was taken to advertise the bathing suit, the tan or perhaps even the location, but in any case it was stunning and I'm sure the client was extremely satisfied with the finished product.

The third photo, which was the first one to the right side of the coat of arms, was a lingerie shoot with the tower of London in the distant background. Despite the women's attire I wouldn't necessarily describe the photo as racy or lewd, even though there was plenty of cleavage on display.

Erika was in the photo with two other beautiful women of about the same age or perhaps just slightly older, but the similarities seemed to stop there. One of the models, a long dark haired beauty on the left side of the photo, was much shorter than the other two and more on the thin or perhaps even anorexic side. She was wearing a black matching bra and thong outfit with a matching robe that was held open. She was gorgeous, but with the dark lingerie and the dark make-up and lipstick I think she appeared a little too Goth looking for my personal taste. After all, you know us Texas girls are a bit on the conservative side.

The second girl on the right side of the photo was nearly as tall as Erika. She was a gorgeous redhead who was wearing a red satin chemise with white thigh highs. Her hair was very thick and slightly curled falling to about her shoulders and she had those soft freckles on her face and arms that always seem to look so sexy on redheads. Her lips were very full and, along with her finger nails and toe nails, were a deep shade of red, serving as a fitting complement to both the color of her lingerie and her beautiful hair.

I'm sure that I'm extremely biased, but to me it seemed that Erika was the most prominent model in that photo and I suspect the photographer thought so as well, since she was given the coveted center position.

Her makeup was perfectly done and all of the colors perfectly accentuated her beautiful face, eyes and skin tone. She was wearing a light blue satin and lace corset with a matching g-string and a short mesh robe that remained open. I suspect the color was selected especially for her, since it was a near perfect match to the light blue color of her eyes. The corset had adjustable garters attached to white stockings, which had the effect of making Erika's beautiful legs appear to be even longer than usual, as if that were even possible.

All three girls were in bare or stocking feet, but I thought the photo looked incredibly sexy without appearing overly revealing. Erika looked a bit older than she did in the first two photos and I would have guessed her age to be either sixteen or perhaps maybe even a very young seventeen.

The last print served as a potent reminder of Erika's growing or maturing sexual aura and it seemed to more closely resemble the girl that was in the room with me now than the girl in any of the three previous photos.

She was wearing an extremely skimpy black thong bikini that barely contained enough material to adequately cover a female less than half her size. She was lying across the hood of what appeared to be an extremely expensive red European sports car, leaning her head on her right hand that was propped up on her elbow.

A fan must have been pointed directly at her, because her hair was blowing slightly off of her shoulders. She was wearing black four inch stilettos with no platform soles. With a substantial portion of her breasts visibly pouring out around the outside of her top the photo was a real eye grabber and I had to believe that if it was ever mass-produced and sold in the United States it would wind up gracing the walls of dormitory rooms on every college campus.

A large plasma television screen that looked wider than I was tall was affixed to the center of the wall on the right side of the room, with a rather impressive looking sound system situated on both sides of the screen. With the exception of computers, electronic components are usually pretty alien to me, so I had no real idea what I was actually looking at, but it certainly looked impressive and I was sure that it would cost more than a brand new teacher would make in a month. Make that three months.

The room seemed to be divided into two separate living areas. On the right side of the room, three long medium brown leather overstuffed sofas were arranged like three sides of a square facing the television screen. A small coffee table was positioned in front of each sofa and there was an end table flanking each side of the middle sofa. On top of each end table was a crystal and brass lamp not more than twenty-four inches tall, topped off by a lampshade that appeared to closely match the cream color on the walls.

On the left side of the room was a large tan floral print overstuffed sofa that was positioned about ten or so feet from the fireplace, so that anyone sitting on the sofa would be directly facing the fireplace. To each side of the sofa there was a wingback chair positioned so that they were facing each other. The chairs were in a solid green color that appeared to match the carpet. A long, narrow glass and brass coffee table was centered between the three pieces.

Erika walked over to the sofa by the fireplace and sat down and watched me as I stood in the room about ten feet from the door and just looked around. I walked closer to the far wall so that I could get a better view of the four photographs. I started my tour on the far left.

I stared at each photo for a couple of minutes taking it all in before slowly moving on to the next one. It was simply fascinating to see Erika's beauty develop and mature in those photographs from one year to the next. I finally stopped at the fourth photo and realized I was simply mesmerized by this woman. I wasn't even conscious of the fact that as I stood there looking at her lying across the hood of that car I was busy touching myself over my skirt.

"You don't have to stand over there admiring the print Jordan, the real thing is waiting for you right here."

I turned my head to look over at Erika, who must have been kneeling, with her arms resting on the back of the sofa as she watched me. It was hard to imagine looking at her there perfectly still, yet I had to admit that she was even more beautiful than she appeared in any of the four prints adorning the wall.

She must have been watching me the entire time as I studied her photographs. She had that incredibly sexy smile on her face, the same smile that turned my entire life around just two days ago. Then it suddenly all seemed to fall into place for me. I was staring at the one person who unknowingly changed my life. A week ago if anyone would have suggested to me that such a thing would be possible and it would be an eighteen year old girl who would be responsible, I would have scoffed at the notion. Yet here I was and definitely there she was.

I turned and walked slowly towards the sofa and circled around behind it and then I moved to one of the wingback chairs and sat down in the one positioned to Erika's left. Then I dropped my Victoria's Secret bags on the floor by the side of the chair and shifted my body to face Erika, who had spun around and was now sitting in the center of the sofa facing me.

I could immediately tell from her expression that she was puzzled by my choice of seat, yet she said nothing. She crossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest and just continued to watch me. This time, however, her sexy smile was gone. This time she could tell that I had something on my mind and from what I already knew of her, I sensed she'd be as patient as necessary. I also knew I'd need every bit of her patience right now.

We never broke eye contact as the minutes ticked away and the sunlight that had been invading the room earlier was now starting to disappear. We could still see each other clearly, but in another twenty or thirty minutes that too would become much more of a challenge. After about five minutes I was still tongue tied, so Erika – god bless her, took the lead and said something.

"How about a glass of wine, Jordan? I know I could certainly use one about now." She said, as she stood and began to head for the doorway without even waiting for my response.

"I'd love to have a glass of whatever you're having," were the only words I could manage before she reached the doorway.

Once Erika got off that sofa I nearly made a strategic blunder. I almost watched her walk out of the room. I sighed deeply knowing full well that if I had done so, any resolve I was trying now to develop would probably erode.

I don't know how long she was gone, but during her absence the room continued to grow darker and then suddenly two lamps on the credenza against the back wall were turned on and I looked towards the doorway and saw that Erika had flipped a wall switch. But that wasn't all that I saw.

As Erika turned and walked towards the sofa I could see that she was carrying a bottle of wine and two wine glasses in one hand, but the big surprise was that she had changed her clothes. Gone was the outfit that nearly had me in a cold sweat when I arrived more than thirty minutes earlier.

This version of Erika was wearing a black AC/DC tee shirt that went down past her waist, certainly not the usual flattering form-fitting top she would normally wear in public, along with a pair of black satin athletic shorts. She was barefoot and she had pulled her long hair back into a pony tail using a black scrunchy. She was still a real beauty, but for the first time she appeared just a little more normal. It seemed that Erika now felt comfortable enough to be herself around me and in that revelation I found a real measure of relief.

She put the glasses down on the table and then filled them from a bottle of chilled white wine she had obviously opened in the kitchen.

She let me help myself and then she took her glass and curled those incredible legs underneath her body and sat down on the end of the sofa closest to where I was sitting. Then she took a sip of her wine before she spoke.