The Taing of Jean

I have become addicted to the character of Jean and the next portion of her story appeared very quickly. I will repeat this is written purely for those who have requested more. You have seen the title if offended by previous chapters go no further, enjoy one of the other offerings on this site.

Jean shivered as the elevator descended the three floors to the reception. She had left her husband Ken asleep. After making love to him she had dressed and prepared herself to seek the wild rough sex her partner was not ready to give her. In the brief time it took to descend the three floors Jean studied her reflection in the mirrored surface of the elevator walls.

Her eyes were wide sparkling with the anticipation of finding someone, anyone for sex. Her re-applied make up glistened in the artificial light, she could see her breasts heaving as she drew in the short shallow breaths her arousal had created. Her fitted dress clung to her torso, she touched the satin fabric feeling her garter belt and stocking tops, she looked at her neatly manicured fingers, the highly glossed red nails that matched her lipstick. She tried to persuade herself , she did not want this, she did not need this. She could still remember the feeling of Ken's cock inside of her, spurting into her womb filling her. She could still smell his cologne, the taste of his lips on hers. She dabbed the corner of her eye she was close to crying. The door opened, she tossed her head back, sniffed back the tear and wondered into the reception.

She did not want to go by the function room where her husband's office party was just winding up. She did not want them knowing. She did not want the complication of cheating on Ken with someone from his office. This had to be strangers. Total strangers she could fuck and never meet again. She turned in the opposite direction circled around until she found the small bar filled with the remaining guests of the awful wedding. She could not imagine Ken having been so drunk that he would pass out on her. Especially not her wedding day. But this was the case with this groom, along with his brother. She could not begin to imagine the humiliation. Her conscience pricked again, it must almost be as bad as having a wife addicted to group sex with strangers.

Jean found the bar, she realised she had no money, only her room key. She looked to see if any of the men she had met earlier were at the bar. She could not see anyone but the barman saw her.

'Have you come back for your drink?'

'Pardon?' she said confused.

'The gentlemen you were with earlier, they bought you a Vodka, but then you left. I can pour it now if you like?'

Jean looked around the emptying bar, she did not know. Maybe she should go out, but where? She could return to her room for her purse but what if it disturbed Ken? She knew from experience he would not be ready for sex for at least another two hours. Jean needed sex and she needed it soon. Maybe she should take the Vodka and see if anyone appeared.

'Thank you. I will take the Vodka, he didn't pay for a Coke as well did he?'

'No madam but I am sure we can handle that for you.' The barman was cute, in his twenties quite slim, with long blond streaked hair. Jean sat on the bar stool this time she did not worry about how high the hem of her dress rose. Her thighs were exposed, but her stocking tops were just hidden unless she wanted anyone to see them.

She took the highball glass from the bar man. His hands were soft, gentle, his white cotton shirt still looked neat despite him having been on shift since 6.00pm or 7.00pm. He turned to wipe down the bar. He had a tight pert ass, it looked like he worked out a little maybe ran, in those black trousers he had the look of a Spanish dancer. He was young, but Jean could imagine him spinning her around upon the chair, and lifting her into his arms. She blushed as he caught her staring at his ass.

'Everything alright madam? Is there anything else I can get you?'

'Not yet.' Jean considered. 'In a little while maybe.'

As Jean drifted off into her reverie imagining a night of passion with the young barman, the weary tear stained bride wandered into the bar. Her eyes were smudged, her feet looked weary and her body heavy. She eased herself down onto the stool opposite Jean. She had decided she would join her husband in drinking her big day into oblivion. But instead of being lifted into a drunken euphoria she found only a deepening depression.

The bride, Sharon, ordered herself a glass of Champagne. She could at least get drunk in style. She reached across to Jean, grabbing her wrist.

'Would you like a drink to help me celebrate my wedding. Do you know this is supposed to be the best day of my life. The day I will remember always.'

Jean looked at the young woman, she was round faced, with what was once beautifully styled and piled dark brown hair. The hair was now spilling over her tiara and ringlets of hair bobbed across her face as she tried to speak. She had a pink lip gloss which matched her nails, and a long diamonte necklace which settled on the rise of her generous cleavage to match her tiara and bracelet. She looked a little like a fairy princess rather than a bride. It was what Sharon had planned to be her groom's fairy princess. Only her prince had been transformed into an ugly frog, by too much drink consumed with his family of wicked elves and gorgons. Well that is how she phrased it.

Jean joined Sharon in a drink which became a second and a third. Jean tried to raise Sharon's spirits and between them they began to discuss attributes of the young barman.

'He has a nice ass. A really nice ass, you could sink your nails into as he pummelled you on the mattress.'

'Do you think he could last all night?'

'I bet he has a really gorgoeus long silky cock, that would simply slide down a girls throat.'

The barman appeared not to hear, as the girls chatter got lewder and lewder they took it in turns to suggest what they could do to him. There was one real negative to their plans and dreams, both of them had sleeping husbands in their rooms. Apart from which Jean was hoping for more than one man touching her body. All the talk had made her even more itchy than before. She would be fucking a chair leg soon if a man did not appear to fill her aching pussy.

The effects of the alcohol began to tell on the bride whose initial high spirits began to plunge her into depression, as they both lamented the lack of a man or men to make their night complete.

'It's alright for you, you still have your figure, you will get laid. But as my drunken husband, Carl, informed me, I am lucky to have him because I am so fucking fat, no one else would bother.'

Jean looked up from her glass, a drink induced moment of reflection had caused her to consider the age gap between herself and the youthful barman the women had lusted over. Sharon was big, bigger than Jean, but she was still sexy. She had the hour glass figure of a 50s pinup, her breasts were large, her hips broad, with an expansive bottom adored by Afro -- Caribbeans, her round features gave her a sweet almost child like innocence. The white bridal gown with its simple detail in the bodice drew the eye to Sharon's lightly bronzed bosom. Jean looked at the nature of the colour and decided Sharon had been expertly made up, even spray tanned to achieve the hue and return the fresh skin tone.

Sharon was a little round in the shoulders and her bare upper arms were not so muscle defined but in Jean's opinion that made her look more feminine. Sharon was close to tears again. Jean leant across the bar and hugged Sharon into her bosom.

'Don't be silly. He must be very conceited and very blind not to realise he is a very lucky man. You are beautiful Sharon. Every man likes a woman he can cuddle you ask my husband, he loved it when I gained a few pounds after having my children. You are just like one of those 50s film stars. Jayne Mansfield or Marilyn Monroe, I bet given the choice young stud over there would rather bend you over the table at the end of the night than me.'

The two women giggled into each other's shoulders, both were close to tears of frustration as well as darkening depression.

The young bar man looked across the bar, he had been checking the clock it was time for him to lock up and go home. He watched the two women, hugging each other in a now drunken condition. He smiled. He liked what he saw.

'Looks like you girls need a party to cheer you up.'

'You know of one?' Jean said raising her head from the soft pillow of Sharon's piled up hair.

'Yes. Yes I do. There is one here in the hotel, one of our regulars has a party once a month on a Saturday night. I set up the bar before I start here. Then I get to join them once I have finished. Interested?'

'Are there any attractive men?' asked Jean. Sharon pinched her giggling.

'Jean don't. Don't you'll get us into trouble.'

'You mean apart from me?' The barman said making it plain he had heard much of the women's conversation. They both coloured but Jean tried to retain her air of authority and control. Although she was ready to relinquish it to the barman or any other man prepared to take control of her.

'Whilst I am sure you would be glad to look after both of us, will there be anymore male company at the party. We are two women who would want to party.'

The bar man smiled and turned towards the house phone on the back of the bar.

'Ladies I am Sean. I will be your escort to the party. These gatherings tend to have a lot more men than women. I am sure you will be made to feel very welcome. Very welcome indeed.'

Sean picked up the phone as Jean rested her head against Sharon's cheek.

'You will have a night to remember after all.'

'I am scared Jean. Should we go? I am pissed off now. I will have a terrible hangover in the morning this is not the night I planned.'

'It will be alright Sharon. I will look after you.' Jean said her stomach performing summersaults. She too was beginning to have second thoughts but the ache inside of her drove her on, if it meant taking Sharon with her, then that was what she would do. It would be a long dark night waiting for Ken to wake and satisfy her. She needed a man, she needed sex now.

The trio rode silently in the elevator to the top floor of the hotel. The bravado was ebbing quickly from the two women, Sean watched them clinging to each other. An interesting couple he thought such stark contrasts, an ageing slender milf in black, a young full figure bride in white. They would certainly make the party go with a swing. The elevator doors opened and the two women looked out down the quiet corridor. Where was the party?

Sean pushed in behind the pair, with a hand of each of their hips he guided them out of the elevator. His hand slid onto their buttocks. He could feel the movement of their asses, Jean's shorts beneath and what felt like the bare skin of the bride. Was she wearing any panties or just a G string? He guided them along the carpeted corridor to a door at the far end. Jean look behind her, she saw the elevator door closing and the arrow signalling its descent. Jean could feel Sean's hand on her buttocks the fingers moving across the back of her dress to the high cleft of her ass. She looked across to Sharon, who was becoming red faced and a little anxious. She saw the young bride reach behind her, raisng Sean's hand to her waist.

Sean knocked on the room door, all seemed very quiet, what kind of party was this? The door slid open a few inches Jean could see small dimmed ceiling mounted lights spreading across a large room. Behind the door the brown face of a woman who could have been a model appeared. She had high cheeks exaggerated eye lashes, stiff black hair. Jean wondered if it was a wig. The bright red lips parted and a set of white even teeth smiled at the two women.

'How I am Shona, you girls with Sean? Want to come to our party, it's just getting warmed up.'

Jean hesitated, as Sharon started to edge away from the door. Jean could see shadows moving around inside and the dull thud of dance music vibrated across the carpet into the soles of her feet.

'Don't be shy.' Said Shona stepping into the corridor and taking hold of Sharon's hand, pulling her reluctantly into the room.

'Aren't you just a picture? Just married and out on the town already. What a girl. Come on through, you'll soon get to know everyone real well.'

Jean followed her new companion into the small ante room of what opened up into a large penthouse suite. To one side was a toilet and kitchen, ahead of them was the main sitting room and beyond, were the bedrooms. Jean counted three doors. Shona shimmered in the glow of the low ceiling lights. Her skin had the warm colouring of dark coffee, the shimmering was a deep blue metallic dress that clung to her hour glass frame, plunging deep at the back to the base of her spine, similarily opening almost to her midriff at the front. The dress was long but split at the side showing off long slender legs. She moved effortlessly on six inch heels worming her way past the other guests till she was at the center of the room.

Jean was captivated like Sharon by the view across the night sky and the winking lights of the town spread out before her. One entire wall was an open picture window. Jean saw her reflected image and that of Sharon against the glass. In the shadows she could see the shapes of the other guests. She realised very few were women, nearly all were men. The few women there, were each engaged by at least one man if not two, who were kissing and stroking their semi clad bodies. As Jean looked at the reflections closer Jean realised many of the men had open shirts or no shirts on at all. Jean rolled her lower lip over her teeth. She could feel the tension the excitement rising inside of her. But she could also see the lost look of terror gradually creeping over Sharon's face.

Jean turned to Shona, 'Is this the party?'

'Darling you and the virgin bride are the party. Normally we get quite a few girls come up from waitressing at the end of the night. But there is some fancy company do downstairs and they have all gone there. To be honest we were pretty glad when Sean rang up and told us he had two women in need of a good time. You sort of even the numbers up a little, we are now down to three men per woman.'

Jean pulled Shona close to whisper in her ear.

'I don't think you understand. We only came up here for a quiet drink. Sharon 'The Bride' has had a very traumatic day, her husband passed out on her blind drunk. I don't think....'

'I think all your friend needs is a little soft music, some gentle carressing and she will be fine. She looks a little lost why not give her a hug.... or a kiss maybe. These boys have been promised a little show, a little entertainment.'

Whilst Jean felt happy to even up the odds, take the strain off of Shona, she did not want Sharon to remember her big day for all the wrong reasons. Jean was also uncertain of the suggestion she should initiate Lesbian sex with Sharon.

'No wait Shona, me it's fine. But Sharon, she is pretty depressed, really cut up.'

'All the more reason why you should show her how to relax and enjoy herself. Sean will be around if you need a hand. Sit yourself down on the sofa over there while Sean fetches you both a nice drink. Champagne wasn't it girls?'

Shona clicked her fingers and Sean headed off to collect the champagne. The smile dropped from Shona's lips as she pushed Sharon deeper into the room and onto a large white leather sofa. Jean noticed the steely look of determination on Shona's face. Sharon in her bridal outfit was to be the centre piece of the evening. Jean followed hearing the shuffling of feet above the music. A couple embraced and stepped up onto the floor, holding each other very close, they were virtually making love to the music, two men joined them taking turns in kissing the woman on the mouth, the shoulder, the back. Her short dress was pulled high onto her hips revealing her tiny black panties barely covering her pussy. The men's hands circled the lace top of her stockings, before she shuffled eased her thighs apart and rubbed herself up against one of the bulging erections pressed against her. Jean felt her own pussy spasm at the sight of the woman grinding against the covered cock. She imagined the feeling of the heat coming from the groins of the three men dancing around her. She so wanted to be like that girl, feeling horny hands and bodies writhing against her.

The champagne arrived it was cold effervescent and sparkled like the cold coal eyes of Shona as she stared into Jean's face.

Sharon leant into Jean's body.

'I don't think this was such a good idea. I feel a little dizzy. Maybe we could leave.'

'Give it a while. Maybe some more people will come. It will be alright.'

Jean put her arm around Sharon's head, gently stroking the soft ringlets of dark brown hair. She could feel the warmth of the other woman against her. She could feel the rapid pulse in the young woman's trembling bosom, see the eyes watching her, feel the bodies shuffling closer to her. Shona leant over the two women, her long finger nail gliding down Sharon's back.

'You look like a real picture princess. You make such a lovely bride. What a pity your man isn't around to see you now. Are you wearing something really special under your dress for your big night? Are you packing some really wicked underwear beneath this lovely bridal dress?'

Shona purred sliding the glass of Champagne across Sharon's back. Jean could feel the young bride trembling. Shona whispered into Jean's ear.

'Kiss her honey. Her man aint going to. She needs some loving, some real gentle loving.'

Jean saw familiar movement out of the corner of her eye. She could see some men gathering reaching into their trouser pockets, feeling for their rising shafts. She had never kissed a woman. She had never touched a woman. Not the way they wanted. She so wanted to run away. To hide. Briefly the image of her sleeping husband came to mind. His cock which had recently filled her mouth, was sleeping waiting for her return. Around her the women, were being touched stroked, their breasts exposed, their flesh kissed. She could feel the heat of Sharon against her, she watched as Shona massaged the bride's bare shoulders and back. She so wanted someone to touch her. She leant forward kissed Sharon's forehead, her cheek. It was soft with salty tears. She kissed the bridge of the girl's nose. She brushed her lips over Sharon's.

'I am frightened Jean.'

'Don't be. Everything is going to be alright. Everything is going to be just fine.'

Jean kissed Sharon's trembling lips. She pressed against them, till they parted. Sharon's hands briefly pushed against her chest, then slid about her shoulders pulling her closer, deepening their kiss.

Jean heard the sound of a sliding zipper, it was Shona undoing the back of Sharon's dress. Jean felt Shona's fingers inside the bodice, squeezing the full bosom of the bride, the back of her fingers rubbing against Jean's aching nipples.

Jean's lips slipped onto Sharon's neck, sliding down the nape as Shona eased the bodice of Sharon's dress down her body. The young woman was wearing a white jewelled corset. Satin bows edged the bra cups, and strips of satin decorated with clear crystal diamonte, detailed the ridges of the bones of the corset shaping her torso. Jean stroked the delicate detail and looked into the frightened eyes of the young woman. She was so desperate for affection, tenderness, she so wanted loving. Jean was not her husband, her man, but she was gentle, considerate, and reassuring.

Sharon was turned on the sofa and laid back into Jean's arms, as the couple carressed and explored each other's body the audience became more aroused. Shona eased the wedding dress down Sharon's body, stripping it away till she lay in her corset, her tiny white lace G string panties, white stockings and white heeled shoes. Her round soft thighs were eased apart and Sean stripped of his bar man's clothes dropped between her knees. His smooth frame was lean, the fine muscle developed and toned every movement on display. His soft blond hair played across the exposed area of her belly below the edge of her corset, his young lips carressed her pink thighs, kissing the triangular edge of tiny white panties. His young shoulders pushed up under her knees, as his hands gripped the big fleshy expanse of her naked buttocks.