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Authors: Jenna Jaxon

7 Days of Seduction

BOOK: 7 Days of Seduction
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2

7 Days of Seductio
n
             
             

 

 

 

New Dawning International Bookfair

presents

7 Days of Seduction

An Erotic Novella

By

Jenna Jaxon

Copyright © 2012 Jenna Jaxon

 

Day 1

Last Friday Night

"Oh, shit!"

A fast, staccato beat pounded inside Ashley Thompson's head, not unlike the new Nikki Menaj song playing on the radio. She clamped her hands over her eyes to shield them from the bright morning—or maybe early afternoon—light that filtered through dusty mini-blinds. She breathed slowly, trying not to throw up. The worst fucking part of Friday night was throwing up Saturday morning.

The mattress shifted as someone rolled over, and a leg landed on her.

"Sam?" No answer.
Oh, crap
.
Revise that previous thought
. The possibility of waking up with a stranger trumped throwing up anytime.

"Oh, Jesus. Please, let that be Sam." She didn't sleep around, but after she and Sam broke up, they'd needed a way to look for new partners. The wild Friday nights grew out of their search. Unfortunately, when she partied a little too hardy--like last night--the possibility of agreeing to a hook-up with a total stranger increased a hundred fold. Ash had never actually woken up with anyone but Sam. Was that record still intact? She held her breath and turned her head to the right in slow increments.

"Sam. Thank you, God."

But she'd hoped for a hell of a lot better outcome from the party than her ex-boyfriend.. She'd have preferred to wake up next to Dirk Harmon, the football player with the tasty-looking ass. Quarterbacks always had an ass to die for.

Relaxing now the crisis had passed, Ashley stretched cautiously, and winced at the pounding soreness in both her head and pussy. God, she hadn't wanted to fuck Sam at all. Had he gone at her that hard last night? Memory evaded her, covered as though with a painter's drop cloth.

Damn, she'd better drag herself out of bed and survey the wreckage. Not much in the house could be trashed, but the human carnage sometimes needed to be dealt with. Sam never took care of puking friends. That seemed to be her calling in life.

To stand took an act of will often shown in Navy SEAL movies, but she finally made it to an upright position, pulled an oversized tee-shirt on, and began an awkward shuffle to the door. She'd grab some aspirin while she was out there.

Like a World War II soldier wading ashore on D-Day, she carefully picked her way through the sea of party debris on the living room floor, trying to recall what had happened last night. Why she'd ended up in bed with Sam. Still a blank.

She didn't mind giving him a blowjob now and then—his latest girlfriend had dumped him two weeks ago and she felt sorry for him—but she didn't want to become romantically involved again. Once had been enough.
And now, in a drunken fog, she'd apparently given in to him.
An even bigger argument for sobriety
.

By the time she'd reached the kitchen, she'd encountered relatively little in the way of broken items, although a series of overturned lawn chairs snaked around the room in a weird conga line. She really didn't want to contemplate what they had been used for. And the normal after-party litter had reached truly impressive proportions this week. Trying to shuffle around a pyramid of empty beer cans, she tripped over the threshold and stumbled to the counter.

She reached for the aspirin over the sink, popped the pills and chased them with water. Returning the glass to the sink, Ash glanced outdoors.

"Oh, shit."

Bodies that usually littered the living and dining room floors lay scattered all over the backyard. One sat passed out in a lawn chair, a green bottle clutched in his hand. Sam's friend Bobby lay spread-eagle on top of the barbeque grill. And some fool lay out on the grass hugging two pink flamingo lawn ornaments.

She shook her head, cringed, and remembered to grab the aspirin bottle for Sam. A detour to the bathroom for a pit stop and to brush her teeth seemed prudent.

By the time she crept back to her room, Sam sat at the computer, raptly staring at the screen. Nothing new. A computer geek from the top of his dirty blonde head to the soles of his narrow feet and every scrawny inch in-between, Sam would rather watch a computer screen than life around him. She dropped the bottle of pills on the desk and eased onto the disheveled bed.

"We've got to go take care of Bobby. He's laid out on top of the barbecue and if someone wakes up and decides to play a little practical joke, he's gonna be toast."

Silence.

"Sam." Just the quiet click of the keyboard.  "Sam!" Big mistake. Her head screamed back, and she dropped it into her hands. She gripped the sides hard, as if to smash it between her fingers.

"What?" He sounded distant, even for Sam at the computer.

"We need to go take care of Bobby."

"Uh, okay." A burst of frantic clicking at the keyboard and her head pounded worse. "Uh, Ash?"

"Yeah?"

"You need to come here. You gotta see this."

"See what?" Ash pressed her head harder and looked up.

"This film from last night."

Despite the ache in her head that worsened by the moment, she narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "What film from last night?"

"I recorded the blowjob you gave me." The son-of-a-bitch didn't even sound apologetic. They'd broken up mainly because of his obsession with recording their sexual activities. Ash had tolerated it for a while, but eventually got tired of having a third eye in the bedroom. The potential for watching herself being screwed on YouTube had also played a part in the decision.

"Well
,
I hope you enjoy watching it, because it'll be the last one you ever get from me. It was probably a pity-blowjob because Tiffany dumped you. But I told you before I don't want you taping that shit anymore and I meant it. So you can take that computer to bed and fuck the video, because it's as close as you'll get to me." She grabbed her head as it threatened to explode. Anger, yelling, and a hangover made for a deadly combination.

"No, Ash, wait. You gotta come here. You gotta see this."

"Why do I want to see me going down on you? Am I suspended from the ceiling and lowered with ropes and pulleys?"

"No, but…" Grinning, Sam peered around the computer screen at her. "You just need to look."

Ashley sighed and hoisted her aching body off the end of the bed. She bumped Sam with her hip to get him to slide over on the bench seat, and plunked her ass down beside him. "So what the fuck is so important I have to interrupt my splitting headache to come see?"

She glanced at the screen that showed her dimly lit bedroom, the bed and two figures, obviously engaged in fellatio. Sam lay at the end of the bed with his legs over the edge, knees wide apart. Ash knelt between them, her head moving up and down slowly, engulfing his dick to the hilt as she always did. "So? After all this time, you want to discuss my technique?"

"Wait. Let me move it forward." He manipulated the touchpad and a new image appeared.

Ash stared at the screen, wincing as she tilted her head back and forth, trying to understand the images on the screen. She turned to Sam, met his puzzled eyes then blurted out, "Who the hell is that guy with his dick in my pussy?"

Sam's head snapped toward her, eyes wide.

"I don't know. I figured you knew him. You mean you don't?" His gaze slid back to the screen to stare at the serious pumping action going on.

"Stop that." Ash pushed the laptop's screen closed.

"What are you doing?" Sam scrambled to open the computer, but Ashley swatted his hands away.

"You are not going to watch that guy screw me. I'm not putting on a show."

"I'm part of that show, too. That's my dick in your mouth, in case you didn't notice." Sam's eyes lit up and his voice took on a reverential tone. "It's a
ménage a trois
. And I caught it on tape."

Ashley groaned and dropped her head back into her hands. "Why can't I remember anything?"

"Because you drank about a quart of tequila last night. I'm surprised you're conscious now."

"I was celebrating my promotion. Can you blame me for getting a little wasted?"

Sam's hand stole back to the computer case and Ash slapped at it.

"You are not going to watch…Shit." Ashley's fingers fumbled as she tried to flip the lid open again. "Help me."

"I thought you didn't want me to watch the Last Tango on
Parker Road
."

"Did you notice if he wore a condom?"

"Shit." Sam shook his head. He opened the computer and his fingers flew over the keyboard. "I'll back it up to where he…Oh. I guess that answers your question."

"What? Back it up to where he came in. Did he put it on on-camera? Why did you stop?" Ashley poked the hands that lay motionless on the keys.

"Unless the guy's dick was transplanted from a Smurf, he's wearing a condom." Sam pointed to the screen, frozen mid-stroke as the mystery guy pulled out of her pussy. She followed Sam's finger to the big, bright blue cock protruding from between her legs and nodded. Glad the guy liked color in his sex. One crisis averted. Now, who the hell was he?

"Back it up to where he comes in the room. You're sure you don't know him?" Ashley took a good look at the man's face for the first time. She didn't know him, but man she wished she did. Curly dark hair, nicely tanned skin, straight dark brows over wicked eyes. The camera caught the half-smile that widened to an outright grin as he pounded into her again and again. Her pussy clenched at the sight, as though trying to recapture the moment. She groaned.

"Go to the beginning. Who is that son-of-a-bitch? Did he just walk up and stick his dick in me? Did he even ask?"

"I don't know, but you seem to be enjoying yourself with whoever he was." Sam pushed a couple of keys and rubbed his fingers over the mouse. "Here we go. You'd just put my dick in your mouth. Hadn't even gotten a decent rhythm going yet, and then he walks in."

"Why didn't you say something when he came in?"

"My eyes were closed, I had a great buzz going, and your lips were around my dick. The house could have burned down and I wouldn't have known it."

Ashley propped herself up on her elbows, inches from the screen, clutched her hair, eyes riveted as the door opened and Mr. Hunk walked in. Yeah, a hunk, no question about it. He didn't seem surprised to see her down on her knees, her lips shrink-wrapped around Sam's shaft. A smile curled up on one side of his lips, in fact, and the sudden gleam in his eye made her swallow hard.

He strode over to stand behind her for a moment, then grabbed her arm and pulled her to stand in front of him. Her lips leaving Sam's dick made a funny sucking sound. Ashley looked into his face, cocked her head, and smiled at him.

"Hi."

"Hi, Ash. Mind if I join you?"

He knows me? How does he know me?

On-screen, Ashley grabbed his face, pulled him to her and fastened her lips to his.

What the fuck?
Ash gawked at the couple as her alter-ego ran her hands down the guy's back and squeezed his ass.

Oh, hell. I did not just do that
.
Why can't I remember any of this?
And oh, oh…
She deepened the kiss, her jaw widening, then his. She pressed her naked breasts against his chest.

I so wish I could remember this
. Her body did and started humming. So agonizing to watch but not be able to feel.

She writhed until she released his lips and Ash sighed with relief. Too soon. The guy's hands traveled down her back and cupped her ass, squeezed it in turn as his lips fastened on her right breast. Her pussy flooded with moisture; too late she remembered she hadn't put on panties, so the tee-shirt was going to get wet. Make that soaked. The Hunk paused and pulled his white Polo shirt over his head, revealing a chest thick with dark hair she itched to get her hands on.

BOOK: 7 Days of Seduction
8.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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