Gwen's Journey Ch. 01

The little red convertible swooped into the lane, almost clipping the fender of Gwen's car. She swerved onto the shoulder of the highway, shouting curses at the receding tail end of the sports car. Fishtailing slightly, Gwen brought her car to a stop off of the road, cars whizzing past her without care. She folded her arms over the steering wheel and laid her head on them, taking deep breaths to relax her frazzled nerves.

A few minutes later, Gwen lifted her head and sat back in her seat. "Motherfucker!" she screamed, and flipped off the convertible that was at least five miles away from her by then. She spent the next minute trying to join the traffic flow and continued her drive home.

Gwen pulled into the cracked driveway of the duplex she rented in a poor but not destitute neighborhood. The rumor was that it had been a very nice neighborhood fifty years before, but it had declined rapidly over the last twenty years, and continued to do so at an increasing pace. She turned off the engine and waited until it rattled to silence before forcing the door open and getting out. The door creaked loudly when she closed it, and she put her hip to the door to secure it.

Her shirt was off before her apartment door was completely closed, and she kicked off her sneakers and peeled off her jeans on the way to the bathroom. She hit the light switch and began to run water into the sink, listening to the "tink, tink" sound of the flickering fluorescent light bulb before it lighted and stayed lit. The bathroom of the old apartment was painted yellow, and had old vinyl flooring that was cracked in places and curled up at the edges and corners. The tub was plastic, a single piece forming the shower/bath, but the counter top was real tile, and the sink enameled.

She pulled her hair out of her ponytail and shook it out, running her fingers through her thick, auburn hair. It felt greasy and had no luster, but at least she'd succeeded in growing it out past her shoulders. Normally she became upset and cut her hair short before it got that far.

She removed her bra and lifted her pert breasts in her hands, sneering disgustedly when she felt the sticky sweat that coated the lower swell. "I'm twenty-three years old!" Gwen screeched at herself in the mirror. "I deserve better than this!"

Gwen's work day began at five in the morning, when she'd crawl out of bed and take her first shower. She'd dress and eat a slice of toast with orange juice, and then drive for forty-five minutes through heavy early morning traffic to arrive at the plant by six thirty. She'd clock in and take her place on the line, inserting three eprom chips into each circuit board that passed her on the assembly line while she stood and felt the pain in her feet grow by the minute.

At eight thirty she'd take a ten minute break, and then clock out for her half hour lunch at ten thirty. She ate in the lunch room, surrounded by people she didn't like or have any common interests with. She had another ten minute break at one, and then left to go home at three, the afternoon traffic usually taking about an hour.

She stepped from the shower and remembered she'd left her only towel in the hamper in her room. She hurried to her bedroom and pulled the towel out, drying herself and wrapping her hair up in it. She intended to climb onto her bed and watch her little black and white television for an hour or so, but when she turned toward the bed something caught her eye.

Outside her bedroom window there had been a tall palm tree, but it was gone. She walked to the window and looked down and saw yellow tape intended to keep anyone from falling into the hole where the tree's roots had been. Sighing, Gwen looked out from her window at the new view. Directly across from her window was another window, the house next door being only fifteen feet away.

Through that window she saw a man. It was the cute new neighbor who'd moved in a few weeks before. She'd admired his handsome face and nice body, but she hadn't really had any opportunity to meet him yet. He was tall, about six foot three, and he had gorgeous green eyes that complimented his tanned complexion and thick black hair that was cut short. He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe forty, and he had seemed very fit.

He was moving around in his bedroom, and Gwen gasped softly when he peeled his tight shirt off over his head, revealing the rippling muscles of his back. His arms were impressive too, as finely cut as any youthful punk, but not overly muscled like a body builder. Her breathing quickened when he unbuckled his belt, and she put her finger to her lip when he dropped his pants to display his superbly muscled thighs and tight, hard ass. He turned slightly, and the bulge in the front of his white briefs made Gwen shiver.

The man left the window and Gwen laid down on her bed and started to rub herself wildly, finding she was already ripe and wet. In no time at all she'd brought herself to orgasm, crying out loudly when she came. The thought of his powerful arms, of running her hands over the hard muscles of his chest and stomach, of his intense green eyes, proved too much to deny.

* * * * *

Gwen had last had sex about a year before, when she'd been left at the bar by a girlfriend who'd gotten lucky with a cute stock broker. She'd drank too much, and had woken up in the bed of a fifty-two year old who was balding and whose bed had smelled slightly of Scotch. She'd been able to dress quietly and sneak away without waking him, despite the fact that her head had been pounding and her stomach sick.

Six months before that she'd broken up with Herb, a boy her age whom she had dated for nearly a year. The sex had been okay, and he had been cute and very charming, but she'd lived in fear of the results of her medical screening after finding out how promiscuous he'd been while they'd been dating, and how indiscriminate. She'd gone to church the Sunday after the results came back, keeping her promise to God.

Before Herb there had only been Roy. He had been very sweet, but overweight and not big on personal hygiene. They had been each other's first, and he'd ruined their friendship by pawing her and making lewd comments to her after they'd done it. She noticed that about Herb as well. As soon as she slept with him, her name changed to "Babe", and he felt he had the right to grab her inappropriately.

The only offer she'd had for sex that she'd entertained in the last year since the one night stand, was a fascinating woman named Julie. They went to the same bar and Gwen had mistaken Julie's flirting for friendship, right up until the lingering fingertips on her thigh. With her eyes closed she could come fantasizing about Julie, but frankly, the real thing scared the shit out of her.

* * * * *

Gwen was still panting and covered with perspiration, her fingers slick with her cum, when her cell phone rang. She indecorously wiped her hands on her bedspread and found her phone still in the pocket of her discarded jeans. Seeing the caller ID, Gwen flipped open the phone and held it to her ear as she went through the apartment gathering her clothes.

"Hi Ronnie," she said, her voice still husky from her arousal.

"Oh Baby," Ronnie laughed, her own voice scratchy from her pack a day habit. "You sound like you just got fucked! Spill!"

Gwen blushed deeply and giggled. The phone was cradled on her shoulder and she tossed her dirty clothes into her hamper. She noticed the smell of sex in her bedroom and glanced at the window nervously. "Nah, I wish!" Gwen said, trying to get her voice back to normal. "I was just um, I just got home from work."

Ronnie gave an evil laugh and said, "Yeah, I know what you were doing. Sorry to interrupt you, but I kinda hoped you'd go with me to The Grotto tonight. Maybe we can find one of those things you need with a guy attached to it."

"That's the problem," Gwen said, cocking her hip and putting her finger to her lip, "they usually are." She agreed to go, and Ronnie promised to pick her up at eight. She jumped back into the shower for a minute, to get the smell of sex and the sheen of perspiration off of her, and then, towel again wrapped around her head, she went into her bedroom to pick out a suitable outfit.

Ronnie had told Gwen that her biggest problem was her need for a make over. She was average height, five foot six barefoot, and weighed one forty on her small frame, a bit soft and a little thicker than she wanted to be. In high school she'd weighed about one fifteen and had turned heads, but then the additional weight had also added a full cup size to her now large grapefruit-sized breasts. She had liked her legs better when she was thinner, but she had to admit they still got looks.

Taking out her "Date Underwear", consisting of a black lace push-up bra and matching low-rise string bikini panties. Since it was hot out, she decided against stockings or tights, and picked out a short black pleated skirt that showed several inches of thigh above her knees. Her green satin empire top with a v-neck would show off her cleavage while complimenting her light skin, auburn hair, and hazel eyes. A simple gold chain necklace finished off her look, and she went into the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup.

Gwen used her blow dryer while she brushed out her hair, and her thick tresses fell straight and shined. Smiling at the one thing she liked most about herself, Gwen created a soft part on the left that allowed her bangs to sweep down over her eyebrows and to hide her eyes if she wanted to be mysterious.

A few passes of the mascara brush and accompanying eyeliner made her eyes "pop", and she applied a minimum of pale green shadow. Other than that, she had only to apply a bit of bright red lipstick and she was ready to go, which was a good thing because Ronnie arrived at that moment. Gwen paused only to put on her best black sandals with a four inch heel.

Strangely for a Thursday night, they found parking less than a block from The Grotto. There was a wait for a table, but the girls proceeded to the bar and ordered beers. Their frequent patronage of the bar was the only thing that kept both girls from being carded. Looking around, Gwen judged it to be a good crowd, with many nice looking boys and even what looked like a couple of men.

Ronnie was a hit, that was for sure. She always was, Gwen reflected. Ronnie was only five foot two and made up for it by never wearing anything less than a five inch stiletto or post heel. She always wore stockings, that night a fine mesh black fishnet, and short, tight skirts. The first thing most men noticed was her rather impressive chest. Her breasts were firm and round double-D cups that she displayed proudly. Gwen would too, if she'd paid as much for hers.

She had thin hips but a tight round ass, and a waist that created a perfect hourglass shape on her. Ronnie's wavy blonde hair cost her a fortune to maintain, but her sparkling blue eyes were natural. Her nose wasn't and it was perfect, and there was some debate about the nature of her luscious, plump lips.

The second thing most men noticed, and the first thing everyone else saw, was the constant cigarette that waved around Ronnie. She was a chain smoker, and while it hadn't caused any obvious problems with her appearance, there was the smell and the air quality around her to contend with. It made life difficult for Gwen, being the wing-girl for someone who spent half of the night on the smoker's patio.

Alone and on her third beer, Gwen saw Julie on the other side of the bar. The beautiful Asian American woman of Chinese descent was gazing at her and they smiled with warmth at each other. Gwen waved and blew a kiss, before grimacing. When she looked again at Julie she saw the woman smiling and shaking her head slowly. Gwen looked around and thought to herself that if she didn't find Mr. Right-now soon, she might just see how the other half lived.

Gwen realized she hadn't seen Ronnie in a while and she wandered over to the smoker's patio. It was usually almost deserted, unless Ronnie or another popular smoker made the non-smoking crowd more willing to weather the fumes. She stepped through the small, dark hallway and took the first of the three steps up onto the patio. Gwen stopped and moved back slightly, not wanting to intrude.

The patio was small and intimate, completely enclosed on three sides by bamboo paneling and on the fourth by the bar itself. Three wooden tables occupied the ten foot by fifteen foot space, which was lit by tiki torches and strangely, strings of colorful Christmas lights.

Ronnie was leaning against the wall, her arms folded and resting against it. She was bent, with her ass sticking out behind her, and her head rested on her arms. Her skirt was gone, and her fishnet tights were crotchless, showing off a large area of her creamy bottom. There were two men standing close to her, one, a tall, muscular man covered with tattoos and wearing a tank top, stood close up behind Ronnie, his hips jumping as he thrust his dick into her forcefully. The other man, not as tall as his friend, but similar in appearance save for his goatee and thin mustache, stood next to Ronnie, stroking his hard cock.

"Ooh yeah," Ronnie said quietly but with passion, "fuck me. Fuck my pussy!" The sight was stimulating, and Gwen felt her pussy get very excited. She had known Ronnie was a slut. The main reason the two dissimilar women had become friends was that Gwen didn't judge Ronnie. In fact, she enjoyed a vicarious thrill whenever Ronnie recounted one of her many adventures. "Fuck my pussy harder!" Ronnie hissed, looking back over her shoulder at the tough looking man, and Gwen pressed her hips to the corner of the building and slowly rubbed her pussy against the brickwork.

"You like that, Baby?" Tattoos said, slapping Ronnie's ass with a sharp crack.

"Fuck me harder with your big fat cock!" Ronnie moaned, and her hips began to hump back against his thrusts more actively.

Goatee reached under Ronnie and opened her blouse and then pulled her tits free of her bra, free to swing with her body's movement. He grabbed one of her nipples and twisted, and Ronnie turned her head to face him, hissing something that Gwen couldn't make out.

Tattoos leaned over Ronnie's back and he reached around to fondle her tits himself, but the new position made his cock fall out of Ronnie's slick cunt. While she castigated him for not being able to keep up, Tattoos grabbed Ronnie's waist and he turned her and forced her forward onto a nearby wooden table. Ronnie cooed when the cock slammed back into her, and she raised a leg up and put her knee on the table, allowing Tattoos better access to her pussy. Not having to support her body, Ronnie was now free to reach over and grab Goatee's cock, and she began to stroke it so hard that Gwen winced. It looked like she would break it.

For several minutes Gwen watched the man fucking her best friend, it never occurring to her to give them privacy. Her own pussy was so wet and aching that she was tempted to pull up her skirt and rub herself. She instead settled for rubbing against the wall and pinching and stroking her nipples through her top and bra.

Tattoos pulled his dick out of Ronnie and slapped her ass, and Ronnie obligingly stood up and turned around. Tattoos lifted her onto the edge of the table and she laid back, her legs coming up and spreading wide, revealing her shaved pussy. Then Tattoos was in her again, but now he was able to lean forward and suck on her tits as well. Moaning loudly, Ronnie resumed her hand job on Goatee.

Without warning, Ronnie whined, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" and her back arched as her face twisted. Tattoos pulled his dick out and quickly stripped off he condom before stroking his cock in his hand. His fingers flew like lightning, and then he grunted and his cum shot out and coated Ronnie's belly.

Gwen bit her finger softly, her attention on the gobs of white that ran and pooled on her friend's hot skin, and she barely registered that Goatee had rolled a condom on his dick and had replaced Tattoos between Ronnie's long, shapely legs. She whined softly when Goatee entered her, and then Tattoos pressed his flagging meat between her lips and she began to suck on him happily.

Gwen was taken by the little movements. The way Ronnie's tits rolled and bounced in response to Goatee's hard, forceful thrusts inside her. The shaking of her hands as she ran them down over her belly and smeared the cum into her skin like a moisturizer or cream. The way Ronnie's feet kicked out and her legs shook when Goatee slammed hard into her.

Ronnie pulled her mouth from Tattoos' cock and she let out a long, low wail. Her face was a mask of passion's pain, and her whole body started to shake from intense internal tremors. Gwen saw Goatee's fingers dig hard into Ronnie's soft thighs, and he slammed his cock inside her deeply and stayed there, his body shaking. Gwen could see his ass had tightened up and was trembling furiously as his cum filled the condom.

Goatee pulled his cock out of Ronnie and he stripped off the condom, offering it to Ronnie for some reason, but she shook her head. He dropped it on the table and stepped back, pulling up his pants and closing them. Tattoos had finished dressing and had retrieved Ronnie's skirt from the ground near the wall and he handed it to her. The men helped her up and they spoke too quietly for Gwen to hear.

Gwen realized they were about to turn and discover her, so she turned and rushed away, mindless of the staccato click of her heels on the cement floor. The beer she'd ordered arrived at the same time Ronnie did, and Gwen tried hard to ignore the distinct smell of sex emanating from her friend.

"I met a couple of guys," Ronnie said into Gwen's ear, "but you already know that, huh?" Gwen tried to look innocent, but Ronnie said, "I saw you watching. It made it better." They looked at each other in silence for a moment before Ronnie said, "I need to drop you off. We're going to one of the guy's apartment to continue our little tryst, okay?"

Ronnie paid their bar tab and they didn't speak much at all on the short drive to Gwen's duplex. She was about to get out when Ronnie put her hand on the bare skin of Gwen's knee. An electric thrill shot directly up Gwen's thigh to her pussy, where it increased her ache before moving on to electrify the rest of her body.

"I mean it, Gwen," Ronnie said seriously. "That was some hot fucking, but it was so much hotter because I knew you were there, watching me. I don't know why, but it was..." Gwen waited a few moments for Ronnie to complete her thought and then put her hand on the latch to open the car door.

"Gwen?" Ronnie called, and Gwen turned to look at her. "Do you want to, I mean...oh shit. Can I kiss you?"

Gwen's excitement multiplied and her very womb cried out "Yes!", but Gwen shyly looked away and mumbled, "Not tonight, okay? Maybe we can talk about it more later?"

"Yeah, okay," Ronnie said, nodding vigorously. "Okay. Well, have a good night. I'll call you this weekend?" Gwen nodded and she turned and quickly walked to her door, fumbled with her keys for too long, and went inside. She'd closed and locked the door before Ronnie drove away.

Gwen changed out of her party clothes and into the oversize t-shirt she wore as a nightgown. She was keyed up, horny, frankly, and she had to concentrate to keep her knee from shaking while she carefully cleaned away her makeup. Clean and ready for bed, Gwen walked into her bedroom and glanced at the window, remembering her neighbor's hot, hard body and gorgeous hair and eyes. It didn't take a moment's thought to know what her plans were for the rest of the evening.

Gwen slipped her t-shirt off and sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the night stand. After a few moments, she quickly reached down and pulled the single drawer open. The box where she kept her dildo, an eight inch pink slim model with a single twist adjustment dial for the vibrator on the bottom, sat next to an almost empty plastic bottle of water-based lube. Under those items were two sets of softly padded handcuffs, an unused but occasionally perused butt plug, and at the bottom a box of condoms, probably expired.