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Something about Jennifer

Jennifer has certainly captured a fancy ........

 Jennifer was a very shy girl, yet an intelligent student in class. Somewhere in the nooks of Liverpool was a house, where Jennifer lived with her parents and brother. Her father was an executive, he was very gentle in nature, very charming person, her mother Barbara was a typical housewives, engaged in chores, some or the other... often wished life could take some turns, no she wasn't an envious lady, she had friends both rich and middle class, she was just herself... she just wanted to spice up life. So, back to Jennifer, despite being shy Jennifer communicated with boys, not a lot ... ut she did get along with few of them, like most girls she kept most female friends and she loved them all, she had male friends as well, but she knew her limits. Jennifer followed her own very fashion, brown hair tied up in a pony tail, pouty lips pursed, making them even softer. Decent pair of tight jeans and a t-shirt, she didn't like to reveal a lot, but she wasn't old fashioned either, she knew she should be admirable, but certainly not get vulgar. She didn't like being called 'hot' or 'sexy', even though she secretly enjoyed attention from males.  Being a girl of nineteen, she was quite healthy, round and curvicious hips, well toned legs and thighs, her usual attention always drove down to her back, to her buttocks, she knew they were round, perhaps just a bit too round and curvy, thought Jennifer to herself.... actually she liked it, having her buttocks a bit meaty definately seemed hot for her, wearing tight jeans definately teased her round buttocks, the two mounds of flesh seemed to just fight against the fabric and just jut out. Jennifer didn't mind at all, infact she thought of herself a woman and a woman who had decent curves. For her age, she didn't have big breasts, but a decent pair of two round ones. She admired her breasts, she knew she would be just as attractive as her mother someday, not to mention Jennife often peeked to her parent's room just witness her mother changing her bra, therefore Jennifer had already concluded that her mother did carry out a a body to really look at.

     So, back to Jennifer. The whole neighbourhood on streets of Liverpool were familiar with this young woman, she maintained a healthy happy relation with all her neighbours. She loved little children, but to an extent untill they didn't get on her nerves, yeah she did agree to babysit, sometimes even more extra hours... not for spending the whole time with troublemaking brats but for some extra money, somehow Jennifer enjoyed the job, the children loved her a lot, she got along well with the kids. Jennifer was full of smiles and sushine, she was positive, caring and nice, even thoughsecretly naughty and frisky, Jennifer didn't dare to flirt with a guy yet, not being amongst much guys at school, she didn't dare to approach or await a chance. Jennifer loved being herself, she loved things to be in limit, even being dressed or spending time with friends, she wasn't into pubs or clubs or even late night discos. She had turned down many such invitations from friends, she knew no matter what, she had to be home by 11, and thats all, she didn't care of the world... she loved being in her own way. She was sweet, she was caring, she was naughty, she was just Jennifer. Jennifer was partially aware of all the attention she got, sexually. Having a decent curvy figure, she did draw some pairs of eyes, one of them was the black bluesman who lived in the same lane, just a couple of houses away, his house was somehow very small, worn out and quite old. The bluesman was almost a middle aged guy, slightly wrinkled face, rough pair of grey-black beard and moostache, apparently 45 years of age. Shiny bald head, usually glistened with big beads of sweat. No, no... the guy wasn't a crook or a rogue, he was quite decent and friendly, even though he hardly showed it. Being in an almost white community, he had felt a bit uncomfortable getting almong with neighbours, but he also made some nice acquaintances, he knew most parents really didn't like him, looked at him with the 'the big black monster will now eat our children' look, the bluesman didn't care a damn as well. He knew he had people who liked him, people who hated him, he was just being himself, sitting on the balcony of his house, with a pair of drums, kicking back on the armchair, enjoying the soft warm breeze. As evening approached the sound of his rough palms on the drums would fill the whole air, the ears of the neighbours, some found it awfuly irritating, some really enjoyed it. Life for the bluesman was just the usual everyday, so back to Jennifer.. she definately had captured the bluesman's fancy, not just once but a couple of times. The bluesman found Jennifer to be mysteriously beautiful, it was almost her personality that made him more and more curious, she wasn't envious, she didn't wear cheap dresses to reveal herself, she wasn't bitchy like most girls he had known. That wasn't all, the old middle aged pair of eyes often got drawn o the soft silky brown hair tied in a pony tail descending down to a beautiful pair of blue eyes and down to pouty pink lips, just like rose buds, the fresh pale creamy skin, so smooth and so butterly, thought the black bluesman, as Jennifer passed by his house, he would often beat his drums twice. It was like every usual day, Jennifer just didn't care or give any attention to the man. She carried on her way. The bluesman never failed to lay his eyes on the pair of her fine buttocks that wiggled all the way as she walked, the tight material of the jeans tries so hard to hold the grip of the two fleshy mounds, so soft like buns... thought the bluesman, his eyes had witnessed a lot of skinny girls.... he seemed really sattisfied with Jennifer's healthy physique. The girl was an angel, thought the bluesman... his palms careesing the surface of the drums, his fingers tapping against them. Jennifer was somehow aware of the peeks given by the middle aged bluesman, till an extent she found it to be sick, on the other hand...she didn't seem to mind a lot, she thought of it to be natural, knowing men were secretly beasts, she unhesitantly allowed the middle aged black man to ogle her, it was somehow the beat of his drums thatirritated Jennifer, gave her goosebumps as well, everytime she would cross the lane by his house, the man never failed to beat his drums twice....  the sound scared her, excited her too. She was confused, but she didn't care, she knew the black bluesman was good for nothing, she had found it quite amusing to find him in her community where she had really never been amongst black people... but she dind't hate him either, she had never found him to be negative, nasty or brutal, though she was scared to have him approach her way.

  At Jennifer's school, things were pretty normal, she maintained a normal healthy relation with her teachers, she even helped the juniors in her science lab, she got along with her classmates quite well, Jennifer wasn't envious nor bitchy either, therefore she didn't draw any foes, but certainly drew good companies. Jennifer was happy with her life, she had friends who were in a relationship, who loved to party, have sex, but she didn't care... she made her believe everyday, she just wasn't ready for a relationship yet. She knew she needed time, she needed time to realize if she can eally keep any faith on men or not. The only man she could trust was, ofcoarse her father... though she was more close to her mother Barbara. Jennifer loved to engage herself in books and films. When not being able to concentrate on studies, she would just end up watching a film or reading a book, something to have her mind engaged on, she hated being idle minded. It was just another day, Jennifer had turned down a prom night invitation from a friend, talking of prom nights, last month was all she could think about ... a guy had asked her for a dance, he seemed so gentle... she tried hard, but couldn't refuse, he had more than five pegs and sooner accidently split some drink on her evening gown, not just that... but he was also quite drunk... and forced her to dance even more, she couldn't take it anymore and just had to leave. No more proms, no more silly accidents, no more crazy men, thought Jennifer to herself as she took a book and started reading.
Yet it was another fine cool breezy evening on Sunday, Jennifer decided to do some chores, she opened the windows.....breathing slow and enjoying the fresh chilly breeze. the soft melody of slow swift winds along with the little children playing entertained her ears untill the sound of drums struck again, Jennifer could see the window of the bluesman's house from her room, he knew the old guy would be beating his drums and singing now. She decided to get back to work and not pay attention, the little noise of tribal songs hit Jennifer's ears, she liked something about it, maybe the warmth of his voice, the emotions in it, the music of his own soil. Jennifer found herself enjoying the song. The bluesman didn't care about drawing any attention, there were many who didn't pay a single attention but the children did enjoy it, they would stop playing and just stare at the middle aged black man playing his drums. as Jennifer proceeded her way to the marker, she decided to just stop by the bluesman's house and just listen, just listen to the song was she wanted, she didn't intend to steal glances. She walked to the fence and stood by the tree listening to his song, the warmth passionate dark voice along with the beating of drums had her skin tingling, she started to sweat... the bluesman seemed to potray his emotions freely from his songs, Jennifer couldn't help but go a bit near to his house and stare at the man, his eyes closed... an old brown hat on his coal black head, a warm smile lay between his rough moostache and whiskers, the rough pair of big hands never stopped beating on the drums. Thick beads of sweat dripped from his forehead to his broad black nose and to his thick lips, his coal black skin glistened with sweat, Jennifer was forced to lock her eyes to his. Those eyes were saying a lot, almost in tears, either of joy or grief. He lay there comfortably on his jacket, an old pair of pants and boots. Jennifer was totally in silence, when suddenly she just let out a cough, oops thought Jennifer to herself. The bluesman's eyes sprang open.... finding Jennifer standing by his fence, a pair of tight jog pants and a dark t-shirt that seemed to contrast very well with her rich pale skin which were almost pink from sweat.... for some moments they just locked their eyes on each other. The bluesman had his eyes scanning every nch of Jennifer who was trembling and couldn't move an inch. His eyes moved from her well toned feet to her slender legs ascending to her thick curvy thighs and upto her fleshy arms and a round warm face. Those flesh requires a rough pair of hands to careess them, thought the bluesman naughtily. Without hesitating, he got up from his arm chair and started to walk down his stairs and proceed towards Jennifer. Jennifer could hardly move, she just attempted to move her toes and go back slowly, trying hard to escape as soon as possible. Realizing Jennifer's attempt to move back, the bluesman commanded in almost a rough voice to stop, Jennifer felt a chill down her spine, she couldn't move back any further. She just stood still and closed her eyes in fear, she tried to console herself that the man was not a bad man and would do no harm, still she was shivering. The bluesman was just some inches closer to Jennifer. His drums held tightly on his palms. His eyes deeply engrossed looking at the expression in her face, the expression of fear, fright but curiosity till some extent. None of them moved any inch, Jennifer just stood still, her body trembling, her eyes closed . not being able to anticipate what will happen next. There was a strange tension between the two. Time seemed to have been ceased for the moment. 

 The Bluesman got closer and closer untill he was just two feet away from her. Jennifer managed to open her eyes, opened them very slowly, tried hard to look at the bluesman. Atlast her eyes had finaly met his, she looked at him, there was warmth in his kind face, eyes filled with passion and curiosity.

 To be continued....


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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