The names of the husband wife, and prime tormenter in this story is the same as some you may see in other stories I have posted. These are all stand-alone stories. This is not a continuation of any others with the same character names. I am just too lazy to come up with other names for every story.
Jenny Marie Jenkins was apprehensive when the plane landed. The small private jet seemed to shut off its engines about fifty feet above the asphalt runway and dropped silently to meet the ground flying past them. When the wheels hit, the jets reversed their thrust and her heart was in her throat in more than one way.
She had many mixed feelings about the trip. As the wife of a minister, this was her first trip away from home. Her husband had been selected by their government to be an observer in the upcoming elections for a number of reasons. He was popular in their state for his writings on human rights. He and several others had been selected to assure their government that the election of the next president of Cape Verde was fair and legal.
When the plane stopped, there was not the typical air terminal most Americans are used to. Rather than entering a flexible tunnel that runs straight into a terminal on the same level, a truck with steps down the back pulled up so they could walk down, out of the plane onto the tarmac. From there, they walked to the rusty Quonset hut to show their passports and pick up their luggage.
As Jenny and her husband, Joe, got onto the tarmac, several jeeps with men in olive green camouflage uniforms and Uzis above their heads stopped and fanned out around them.
Out of the Hummer came a gargantuan creature. He must have been six feet six inches or more. As he tipped his dark glasses up off of his eyes and placed them on top of his baseball type cap, Jenny felt he looked familiar. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. Marcel Rousseau; the Black Onyx; Night Train Lorraine.
Like Jenny, he had aged somewhat. He had a little bit of grey in his hair; a goatee and a mustache, but the angle of his head as he walked; the rippling muscles and lean frame had not changed. He looked like he could still play. He had been tagged with the nicknames for the way he ran after he caught the ball. He got the name of Black Onyx from a sports writer who had seen him in practice. Without a shirt, and under a full lather, he looked like the legendary race horse; the sun gleaming off of the sweat made him look like polished stone.
Jenny had met him during track practice. With a full scholarship on the track team, she was determined to justify the coach's belief that this small-town girl from the Midwest could run with anybody. Jenny had not grown up in an integrated school, and had tried to mask her discomfort by over compensating with the blacks. She went out of her way to be friendly and gracious to the monsters that ran past her trying to snare long passes during practice.
Although she couldn't be sure, it dawned on her that she was being set up. The quarterback was probably throwing passes a little over Marcel's head so he could chase down the ball just in front of her.
The casual joking about him missing so many passes became a regular routine. After practice he would walk her back to the girl's dorm. He was eternally optimistic about getting a date with her, but she was terrified of what the other girls would think of her for going out with him.
Jenny gradually agreed to innocent meetings with him; coffee in the library, and eventually going to drive in movies where they would not be seen. Jenny was green about dating. Her parents had forbidden her to date during high school, and now she was on her own.
The young freshman distance runner was mesmerized and terrorized by the hulking senior football player and couldn't decide how she felt about him. Finally, after football season, he was drafted by the Chiefs. Although he continually mailed her tickets and plane fare to the games, she was a little apprehensive about what a weekend with him might become.
By the time his last week on campus was approaching, Jenny had resisted most of his advances for several months. She knew she would not likely see him again.
Jenny was shaking so hard she could hardly walk with him to the edge of the park. He had brought a blanket. She had brought a small picnic in her back pack. He took her back pack in one hand and the blanket under that arm as he held her hand and led her to the shade of the grove of flowering dogwoods at the end of the clearing.
Jenny was numb as she tried to make small talk across the long clearing. Neither of them was paying attention to the conversation. They pretty much knew what was going to happen once the blanket was down. It wasn't about the picnic. It wasn't about the backpack.
Jenny tried to be casual, but could hardly control the shaking in her knees as she held two corners of the blanket as they both tried to spread it out neatly on the grass. Jenny looked around nervously so make sure nobody would be able to see them if they walked or drove by. They were far enough from any trails or roads and the grass was tall enough that nobody would have been able to tell.
Jenny's long reddish-brown hair was woven into the beginning of a fish-tail braid just at the base of her neck. Her hair cascaded down her right side to her waist. Her blue oxford cloth button-down collar men's shirt was tucked into her Levi cut-offs. Her shorts were short enough that the pockets had been cut off so they wouldn't stick out past the bottom of her shorts. Jenny's lumberjack boots laced up to just below her knees, and the grey lumberjack hunting socks were folded back down over the tops of the boots.
She had come here to fuck him good-bye. She knew it and he knew it. Jenny allowed him to guide her onto her back and stretched her arms up over her head. Jenny was shaking so bad she couldn't talk. She forced a smile and closed her eyes to hide her nervousness.
Marcel tried to comfort her by stroking her hair and the sides of her jeans. Over a period of an hour or so, one thing led to another. Jenny tried with all her might to relax, knowing what was expected of her. Her first experience was to be with an NFL rookie drafted in the first round. "What more did she have to have?" Try as she might, she just couldn't relax. She struggled mentally to accept him. She hadn't been on the pill. That would have been too deliberate an act of acceptance for this teenager.
Jenny had seen articles on the internet about these issues. Girls were divided on how to accommodate their boyfriends and still protect against pregnancy.
In an effort to avoid full intercourse, Jenny allowed him to guide her hands to his clothes. Reluctantly, she allowed herself to remove his clothes and put them on top of hers at the edge of the blanket.
In an attempt to procrastinate, she allowed herself to be massaged everywhere. In return, she mimicked his actions as well. She knew things would not end this way.
Marcel rolled off of her. He pulled the naked teenager over, trying to get her on top of him. Jenny lay beside him; her legs at a ninety degree angle to his body. Her body was resting on his and her left elbow on the blanket beside him. Jenny laid her head on his abdomen and looked at the creature between his legs.
Jenny scooted herself down on his body so she could watch this monster unfolding in front of her. She positioned herself so she could see it and the reaction in his eyes when she touched him. Softly, inquisitively, she reached out. With the back of her hand, she brushed the soft underside of his shaft. She lay there, puzzled; fascinated; and terrorized by the animal unfurling itself in front of her.
Was it alive? It seemed to have a mind of its own. Marcel reached out with his left hand and pulled her legs closer to his body so he could reach her better. He ran his left hand up and down her leg.
Her soft shaven and tanned legs highlighted and accented the bare shaven vulva starring at him. Was it him touching her, or was it her touching him that made this glistening salamander grow in spurts. Every touch, every breath she took added an inch or so to the length of it.
"There's no fucking way that thing is going to fit." Her mind screamed. Jenny moistened her lips that seemed to be full of cotton. Jenny reached out behind her and grabbed a small plastic bottle of water. She moistened her lips in an attempt of build her courage.
They talked about not being able to see each other anymore. She agreed, without thinking, to take him up on his offer to fly her to the games. Little did either of them know or understand that promises made during sex rarely stand once the evening is over.
Jenny leaned forward, not quite sure what to do, and kissed him on the tip. Intoxicated with the power she seemed to have over this gargantuan creature, she licked him; first along the bottom of his shaft, then along the sides.
By the time they were done, the sun had set. Marcel wiped her off with a towel. They finished the picnic; folded the blanket and walked hand in hand back to his car.
After Marcel went off to the pros, Jenny felt reluctant about what she had done, and never seemed to have the time to join him out of town for any games.
Jenny had graduated, gone into the seminary, and married a fellow student. They co-pastored a series of churches in the Midwest. Joe had begun to receive lots of recognition for his writings that were being published.
.... There is more of this story ...