Author's note:
This story is intended as a two part series only. However if there is enough interest I may add a third part, as I have left a few open threads in the storyline.
W
-------------------------------------------
The sharp rap on the door as the brass knocker banged urgently echoed down the corridor causing Jeff Lake to raise his eyes from his journal and look forlornly at the offending portal.
He had just settled down to read an industry magazine, reclining back on the luxurious sofa, whiskey in hand. "God sakes! What is it now?" he muttered, putting down his glass and magazine and standing up.
The knocker rapped again, louder and more insistent this time.
"Coming! Coming!" he shouted. His tall, lean frame strode down the long hallway wondering who would be out in weather like this. It had been a cool but mild afternoon, average for late autumn, then scarcely fifteen minutes prior a howling cold wind had blown up bringing a bitterly cold rain and plummeting the temperature dramatically.
'God forbid if its one of those door to door sales persons,' he mulled to himself. He reached the door as the knocker started again and pulled it open towards him.
His eyes opened in wide surprise. This was no annoying sales person, but the girl from next door; Jennifer Carson.
She was in a state. Shivering from cold as it appeared she had been caught in the storm wearing only a thin blouse and short skirt for protection. Tears streamed down her pretty face and she looked sadly up at him.
"Jennifer! What the hell are you doing out here? Come inside, quickly!" Jeff grabbed her hand and pulled her into the warmth of his house and shut the door on the raging wind.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her to the lounge where he seated her down and then went to the fire place and heaped a few more logs on to it. He then went to the kitchen and poured a double scotch and water and returned to the sorry sight on his lounge.
Sitting next to her her gave her the glass. "Here, take a sip. It'll warm you up."
"Thank you," she replied with a half smile forced through her tear stained face.
"I'll be back in a moment." He jumped up and proceeded to the bathroom.
Jennifer held the tumbler tightly and took a sip of the liquid. It was strong, stronger than any alcohol she had ever tasted. Braving a larger dose she took a mouthful and swallowed it carefully. She coughed suddenly at the unexpected fire in her throat, but as the amber liquid settled in her stomach she felt the warm glow extend through her chest and reach tendrils deep into her belly. She sighed deeply and started to feel better.
As Jeff returned to the lounge, he stopped at the doorway to one side of the lounge and looked at the form of Jennifer as she sat, head bowed, soaking up the heat from the fire and sipping her whiskey. Jennifer, or Jenni as she preferred to be know was eighteen years old, the daughter of Michael and Tracey Carson. He had know the family for about ten years from the time they had moved in next door. Jenni was eight and her older brother about twelve or so at the time.
Jeff had become very good friends with the family, having his own two children, Karen and Brad in their early teens. He was raising them as a sole parent now that a year previous to the Carsons moving in his own wife had died tragically in a vehicle accident.
Jennifer's brother had recently joined the armed forces and his own two children flown the coop a few years ago to pursue their lives elsewhere. He lived alone in the big house pouring his energies into his work.
She looked up and turned her head, spying him at the doorway and smiled genuinely at him.
"I got you a towel to dry your hair and ummm, a box of tissues," he held them out to her as he walked over to the lounge.
"Thank you. You are too kind," she remarked as she took a handful of tissues and wiped the tears from her face and blew her nose.
He sat down next to her. "Now what were you doing out in that weather and why aren't you inside your own house?"
Jenni looked up at him tears starting up in her eyes. "Uncle Jeff." She had called him that from a young age as he had often helped with babysitting the Carson's children and he almost came to know them as his own, especially Jenni.
"Uncle Jeff, I...", she started and then gulped down the rest of her whiskey, coughing slightly again from the fierceness of the liquid. The warmth penetrated deep into her belly and the dizzying effects of the alcohol hit her brain with the most unusual sensations.
"I, I," she stuttered slightly, "I got home and the door was locked and I forgot my key, and mom and dad weren't home and then it started to rain and I had a really big fight with my boyfriend and I was cold and, and I just didn't know what to do!" Her voice reached a high pitch as she finished and then sobbed and buried her face into his chest.
He wrapped an arm around her and let her cry out her anguish. It wasn't the first time he'd had to console a distraught teenager; his own daughter or Jenni.
"That's okay honey," he hushed. "Everything will be fine."
She clung to him as she sobbed and he was becoming acutely aware of her body pressing against him. He had seen Jenni grow from a pretty young girl into a beautiful young woman in the span of a decade.
He remembered her lithe figure from a few weeks back when he went to the Carson's for a pool party. It only seemed like yesterday she was a blossoming adolescent, and now all of a sudden she had flowered into full womanhood. Jenni had strutted about for most of the afternoon in a skimpy bikini, her firm, medium sized breasts barely covered by the two small triangles of material, bounced slightly as she walked. She could easily be a model he had mused, appreciating her slender form: flat belly, nicely curved hips and small round backside.
He studied her closer; She had a fine featured oval face, slightly wide mouth with full lips above a strong jawline. High set cheekbones accentuated her large blue eyes. Her blond hair was tied back in a pony tail falling a little past shoulders that displayed a strength and sculpting from years of sport and activity. She had a feminine grace that drew one's eye; a slightly bowed back highlighting her round butt and long legs on her five foot seven inch frame that led forever upwards to a mound barely hidden by the bikini bottom. When she had climbed out of the pool he couldn't help notice how the wet material clung desperately, drawing inwards slightly at the middle where her labia met. He could clearly see her pussy lips were quite thick and scanning upwards he saw how her erect nipples strained against the top.
