Chapter 1

The Pawn_Athan Ayo.

Her countenance defied the raunchy memories burning through her soul; paradoxically, she cast the striking aura of a cherubim who brought good tidings at yuletide. Her last boyfriend was a sissy, the introverted type between whose thighs she had found quietude to her white-hot sexual hankering--or so she had been delusioned before that coward made a bolt for it the previous night.

Of course, Jenny was no rookie to shady games and fancy metaphors from toy-boys, but the latest sharp twist came off quite a shocker in her sexual escapades. Jenny and Jimmy had grown fond of each other's carnal details. She had practically schooled that rookie through the 69, missionary, and the doggy bed-time acrobatics and, in turn, Jimmy had rhythmically sailed between her curvy, luscious thighs each randy moment, sating her burning sexual calls in proportional doses. But darn! How could Jimmy possibly resist her dying thirst for the seventh bout of sex last night? Damn! She had overrated his frail macho. That coward, he fled! He had ditched her in the most wanton state of orgasm. Jimmy is such coward!

Poor pretty damsel. She could not even hide being a nympho to her past conquests, who had each failed to match the tempo of her sensual agility.

Now she's jaded. She craved a respite from sexual adventures and, more than ever, a truce with the holy grail. She was stuck in such oscillation between her fleshly tendencies and her spiritual craving. Somehow, she had consoled herself to devise every means of dousing her undying urge for sex. Who knows, she would possibly find her much-needed respite from the synagogue.

She cut a forlon figure in her seated position this morning before the altar. Out of the blue, a bellow of _''praise the Lord''_ sharply pierced her warring thoughts and jolted her back terms with reality. She had been in trance, almost oblivious of the order of program in the synagogue. Now, she was back to context, and before the altar of the Sunday tabernacle. She gathered some rhythm, winked her heavy lashes, pursed her soiled lips, and let out an inaudible, sensuous _''hallelujah''._ She had missed a large part of the sermon, but she shrugged it off and consoled herself to come off better with a good number of regular appearances. She maintained a calm appearance through the remainder of the sermon. But then, nagging at the back of her mind is a stabbing guilt that she had allowed that rookie to use her. It is aching, but she was not new to breakups, only that the latest bitter pills had been dished her by the one she had trusted beyond measure. The punging guilt seared through her spirit and soul all that morning, while she subconsciously pertook of the Hymns recitation. She had equally received the Eucharist in affected composure. Somehow, she felt a mix of hangover and hope.

The morning service rounded off, and she set about heading home when some random young man--smartly dressed in a three-piece suit--drew up to her and offered his welcome message, also urging her to stay consistent, while shoving some bulky jacketed leaflets and flyers in her palms. She had not really focused on this passing moment of the welcome gesture, as she had set her heart on leaving the vicinity of the church as soon as she could. For Jenny, it was one hell of a boring morning.

Back in her cosy condo located on Brook Street on Walter Island--one of the few islands that offered the residents scenic views of nature in the country. As it was her custom whenever she was alone, she stripped herself of the velvety, knee-length gown she had been wearing all day. She had not bothered to carefully select the gown earlier, but what did it matter anyways? She only needed a refreshing break, and now the gown felt heavy and more like a burden. She could not wait to strip herself bare to her purple panties and the glistening, fluffy, black brassiere, with the cups fitted enough to emphasise her pointed, round breasts. A trickle of sweat ran across her glistening cleavage as she made for a bottle of whisky from the chiller across the lounge, in the small recess of the living room. She reached for a plastic crate of wine cups perched on the top of the shelf, just adjacent to the chiller. She pulled out a fat glass wine cup, rinsed it in the small basin fixed on the wall, then poured herself a handful of whisky. She gulped it down, and rumpled her face in disgust as though the liquor seared her throat. She banged the wine cup on the shelf and gulped another shot in quick sequence. This time, she was beginning to get a bit tipsy. She staggered across the living room, and made for the bedroom, while muttering a curse, as she made subconscious effort not to bumble into the funiture.

''That Jimmy was a cheat...Motherfu***ing coward!'' She grumbled, swinging the door open; she clenched to the threshold of the bedroom for support, and took a long dazed look around the bed and the rumpled duvet that lay haphazardly on it.

The animalistic scent from the previous night's sex still pervaded the air. For a moment, a memory was triggered; she was aroused, even as the smell wafted into her nostrils. She released her grip from the threshold and made towards the bed. She was all set to dive in, but she felt a pair of muscular arms hurdling her from behind. Who was this intruder? She had not left anyone in the apartment earlier on. Was she in danger now? Her heartbeats gathered more speed than before, as she struggled to regain some consciousness. The masculine arms were firmly clasped around her breasts, and her waist was jerked back only to rub against the firm phallus of a man. She was startled to death, and instantly turned her head round to shoot a curious, but terrified look at the tall, dark figure looming behind her. Heck! It was Jimmy. A mix of sexual excitement and resentment was written all over her face. Before she could utter a word, Jimmy had buried his lips into Jenny's. She tried to resist him at first, but the resistance never materialised; it only dared to develop and died in her head. ''I'm sorry about last night, baby,'' Jimmy said gingerly.

Jimmy was all over her; she could do very little to resist him now. He slid his fingers beneath the cups of her brassiere and groped for her nipples. His fingers firmly wrapped around the fullness of her breasts now, he caressed each one artfully. In turn, Jenny swung round to meet his wanton gaze and, In a reflex, she swung her arms around his around his neck while they nibbled each other's lips in sheer fondness. It was not long before they fondled into the comfort of the bed, and Jenny found Jimmy thrusting himself into her world again.