thevirginchronicles

by Willows, Jennifer

  This is a disclaimer… pretty standard… this book is not about you or anybody you know, any brands listed are their own and are not being advertised. Please don’t give this book to any other persons… it’s not a cold, don’t share the file please… the FBI looks down on that sort of thing… I wrote this work, and it is self-edited. Yes, I made this cover as well. So with that being said, all errors are my own and I can’t blame anyone but myself for any mistakes. There are some risqué elements in this story, so please don’t be offended if you choose to read any further than this page. If you are under the age of consent wherever you are, please read something else and not this book until you are old enough to do so. I am not responsible if you try anything I depict in any of my stories this one included. With that said, enjoy and happy reading!

  Jennifer Willows

  This is for all the reformed bad girls and the backsliders out there…

  Jennifer: The Best Part of Waking Up

  The Wednesday morning started at work with training on MART, also known as the Management Access Resource Tool. The company upgraded two months ago and traded an older system to the newer, supposedly quicker programming. Jennifer Talbot was seated in the third row, the last seat of the last row in the small cramped classroom. The room sat twenty-one people not including Riordan Jamison, the software engineer from FarleyJamison and creator of the programming. His company currently provided vender services to her company, Southern Wireless. As the newly minted Assistant Director or AD, she ran several of the companies departments, but mainly worked with the individual department supervisors. Since one of the departments she was overseeing rolled out the MART, there were five times the number of user generated errors in her daily Excel reports, hence the re-training on the system and the spectacular view of man teaching it.

  Jennifer first noticed that his hair was overly long, more so than the last time she saw him over six months ago when the locks were shorn close to his scalp. The color was a tawny brown with a smatter of gold and his mane appeared thicker than before, especially noticeable with the amount of hair scattered along his nape and shoulders. There was barely any curl to the locks, as though it were too heavy to do anything more than wave lazily around him. His eyes gleamed amber, not quite brown, but too deep for any other color to lay claim to the iris. A thickly bridged nose and sensual lips made him appear more masculine even as the features heightened his beauty. A square shaped jawline just perfected the face and if he'd smile, a dimple would crescent his cheeks to match the tiny cleft in his chin. She could see the hint of the grooves forming commas around his mouth.

  She had seen him several times before, but he'd never seen her, and previously he more or less glossed over her in his vision. Considering she was a one-eighty from the last seminar he gave six months prior to launching the MART, she didn’t blame him for not recognizing her. After shedding a large amount of weight, Jennifer now was a svelte version of her former self at a hundred and fifty pounds. She wasn't ready for the Sports Illustrated swimwear guide, but she looked and felt great.

  She finally let her hair grow out, now the auburn locks skimmed her bra strap. She has stopped perming her hair ages ago and now kept her hair straight with Dominican blowouts. Her skin was tanner, bronzed by sun to a mocha color. She disguised her short stature well with heels, the same height as her mother and grandmother at five foot four. Her face was cute more so than sexy, a gamine ethnic mix of features. Her lips were full, almost African puffy, combined with large round eyes and pert petite nose. A pretty decent mixture, at least she hadn't had a man put a bag over her head yet. Before, her small handful of dates may have wanted to put one over her body, but never her face.

  She hated training. It was always a long day of classroom instruction interspersed with grainy screenshots and a bunch of handouts. She was personally able to use the MART, so really why was she here anyway? Her lost management needed the help way more than she did. But she did have to admit, the view from here was great. There was the luxury of her emails, a.k.a. busy work, half of which could be deleted without reading. She didn’t really need to know what the cafeteria was serving for meals this week and she didn’t have the time to sign up for more college classes. After a slew of messages were put in the recycle bin, she took care of the ones that really were in need of immediate attention. But the cleanup of her email box took longer than necessary due to her distraction with the incredibly handsome man at the head of the room.

  Riordan: Three-Cup Morning

  Riordan hated training. He didn't really like speaking in front of others and to boot the coffee sucked here. But the woman in the last seat in the back of the room looked extremely familiar. He just didn't know why. The entire morning's seminar was spent covertly ogling her, trying to place her. He would be here teaching for the next three days, as all software engineers and programmers taught the users their creations.

  The rule was good and bad for different reasons. It was a good idea since the rule forced their teams to develop user friendly systems, for no reason other than the idea of retraining non tech people. The bad part was that he was the one who had to teach groups of people en-masse and he had to spend his nights in the bustling beach town. He preferred his nights be quiet and private and felt phobic in the tight confines of a city for more than a couple of nights. He was lucky that he would be home by the weekend. He didn't live too far away, just outside Raleigh. But as he always burned the midnight oil, he wasn't one for mornings. Most nights he spent working in codes and beta testing his own software, and didn't see his bed until the wee hours of night/morning.

  When he looked up from his notes, he saw half the class appeared to be sleeping. The other half of the classroom was alert, but all paid more attention to their phones than him. Riordan checked the clock, he noted that it was nearly eleven and decided to stop for a short break. Deciding to use a MART feature he was going to cover tomorrow, he stopped in mid-sentence and input some codes into the crappy mass client PC's used by the company. Within moments every cell phone in the room went off. It was hilarious as all of the sleeping students lurched up their eyes darting left and right, one even wiped his mouth with the back of a shirt sleeve. Several of the texters in the class dropped their phones, eyes also darting left and right. Anyone left holding their devices saw a brief message: You are welcome to take a twenty minute break, and none let grass grow beneath their feet, just grabbed their bags and left.

  The only one not startled was the sexy woman in the back. She was one cool customer, but her mouth was red-hot sex on a stick. He had to know her name. His eyes were drawn to her lush figure when she walked in, neater than a pin. Her skirt was black leather, just to the knee where the fabric met a boot in the same material. A crisp white shirt tuxedo style shirt up top with the collar popped upright and a long chain dotted in pearls wrapped her slim throat. She wore a simple pearl stud in each ear to match. Her hair was the color of reddened fall leaves, cascading down her back in a simple ponytail at the nape. He was dying to know what her panties looked like based on the outfit.

  He knew she was wearing some, her eyes showed an innocence that the lips belied. But what those panties would taste like in his mouth saturated with her female nectar is what kept him at attention. Within moments, she stood and walked towards the small back office break room. He waited a moment and followed her unashamed that he was curious as to what she was doing. The answer revealed itself when she sauntered to the smokers booth located outside. The weather was balmy for a fall day and he watched the heavy ponytail she wore swish in the gentle breeze. Apparently, she smoked infrequently, as he watched her bum a smoke from one of the classmates, who appeared to be surprised at the request. He could hear snatches of a conversation,
just random bits, but what stuck out was the subject. Him.

  "Girl, that boy looks like a good piece of white chocolate. If I weren’t so damnit old I'd fuck him."

  "Lola," The newly minted object of his fantasies spoke in a chastising tone. “You know better than to talk like that at work. If somebody from HR heard you, it would take an act of god to keep you employed."

  "Jennifer, quit playing. You and I both know he is definitely worth giving the kitty-kat up to."

  He watched her shake her head, the motion jerky and abrupt. As if she wanted to deny it, but had a hard time lying to herself. Let alone lie to someone else, Riordan could see the piercing gaze of the older woman from where he stood.

  "Yes I would give him the time of day, if I was his type. And I highly doubt that I am. He seems as if he'd prefer someone more in shape or barring that, his own color."

  "Girl, you got plenty of shape, it may not be popular now, but in my day honey you would have had to beat the men off with a stick."

  Jennifer: HR Appropriate

  Jennifer knew she better stop the current dish session with Lola in its tracks otherwise, they would be late back to the training. She stubbed the smoke out, barely tapped in the bin reserved for butts. The cleaning crew needed to get on it, the thing was a fire hazard waiting to happen. The building was already over capacity, and well over a third of the nineteen hundred employees smoked. The poor weather beaten canister reflected it, overflowing with stubbed out smokes. As she walked back up the short cobbled sidewalk trail, she saw Riordan walking back towards the building via the side smoker’s door. His view from the back was just as beautiful as the front. He would tower over her, most likely by a foot. He wore a simple polo emblazoned with the company name on front and logo on the back. His slacks were pressed, tight creases on the front and back of the flat front khaki material.

  Jennifer vaguely wondered if he overheard any of her conversation with Lola on the smoke deck. She highly doubted it, he wasn't a smoker. Maybe he was taking a walk, or having a conversation on his phone. That made more sense than any of the alternatives she could speculate on. The butter soft leather caressed her knees, reminiscent of fingertips smoothing over the dimpled joints. She peered at the watered down reflection in the windows as she glided past. Damn, if she didn't look the best she had since... ever, if she were totally honest with herself. When she checked the time on her phone, she decided to hit the company cafeteria. There was a cuppa Joe calling her name.

  After dashing in then back out of the busy cafeteria with the perky French roast teasing her nostrils, Jennifer made her way back to the cramped room. The class was trickling in slowly, couples and singles taking their seats. She took hers, glad that it was nearing lunchtime.

  She covertly watched Riordan take his seat, before class could resume they had to wait for the remaining stragglers to get back inside. The remaining hour until lunch flew by, as it was more interactive than the early morning dry "getting to know your system" session. When it was time to break for lunch, he sent a message to all the room users in the MART system with a special addition. This time he sent a message just for one person. Jennifer. He let the class go and generously told them to be back in two hours. The time would allow diligent personnel to finish lingering paperwork and emails.

  Jennifer was in the process of collecting her Coach bag to depart when the phone at her hip buzzed and blinked. Her disbelief quickly flipped to anticipation when she took stock of the message the handheld contained.

  Come here before you go to lunch.

  She looked up, his gaze locked with hers as if he anticipated speaking with her too and maybe his desire for a parlay surpassed hers. Although she only realized that part once she looked away from their staring match. She didn’t want to be obvious and took a moment for everyone to file past her as she pretended to be occupied with her phone. When the last straggler scurried out of the stale classroom she walked to the front.

  "Yes?" The question though simple, held multiple meanings.

  "I just wanted to ask you to lunch." His voice was low, the tones serious and meant for their tete-a-tete only.

  Jennifer wasn't sure what to say, she wanted to go, but wasn't sure of herself. And she was definitely unsure of the man in front of her. But her longing over took her common sense and she gave the answer she really wanted to, instead of the practical or professional response she should have.

  "Yes." Even before her mind could interfere with her tongue.

  "Where do you like to go?" He asked, his tone indicated that he wanted to make a good impression.

  Jennifer had a problem. As a dieter, she didn't eat out much anymore, but she had to take the offer. "I really don't have a preference."

  "How about Italian?"

  Jennifer smiled. She hadn’t had good Italian in months. "That would be nice. There is a really good place on the outskirts of town. They have a white sauce to die for."

  "Sounds nice. Would you like to ride with me?"

  Jennifer hesitated to agree to that much just yet. She didn't want her business out on Front Street. They were at her job after all and she did have a position of some visibility. He rescinded the offer with a polite rephrase. "Perhaps I could follow you then?" She was grateful at his quick agreement. But she did have one thing she needed to do before she could enjoy lunch.

  "That would be wonderful, if you don't mind following me to the bank first. It’s just around the corner." Jennifer queried.

  He agreed with a nod, and described his car so she could recognize him when he pulled behind her.

  The needed deposit was quick and within fifteen minutes the two were outside of town at Gio's, a small Italian diner. Typical decor, the diner was dark, even in the bright lights of day. The intimate space boasted high backed dark wood booths, Chianti bottles complete with small stubs of taper candles and checkered tablecloths. The food however, was not Chef Boyardee typical. The menu included delicious antipasto, the tomato and mozzarella caprice salad were surprisingly flavorful considering how simple the recipe was. The conversation seemed stilted at first, with Riordan making all the opening gestures. He asked about her family and got a generic mom, dad and one brother response. Jennifer wasn’t big on bragging or too much conversation about herself. The result was that her closed mouth made him open up even more and it seemed he wanted to guilt her into more conversation. It worked.

  Riordan told Jennifer stories of how he was years ago as an awkward teen. Even then he was tall, but he had a pair of really bad glasses and an even worse case of acne. He didn't wear pocket protectors, or suspenders, but otherwise was a stereotypical nerd. He told her how his younger twin brother, Kendrick, was popular, funny and handsome in school. All the other kids let him be when they realized Kendrick wasn't going to let anyone bother him. So he never was stuffed into a locker, beaten up, or abused. He told her how he went to college at sixteen. None of the girls paid him much attention, due to his age. But a meeting with one woman did help him become a better man.

  "Her name is Monroe. She was a junior and I was in my sophomore year when we met. I was trying to graduate early and just needed three more credits to enter my senior year at the time. But she was struggling with her Calculus class as she hated math with a passion. I opted to test out of Calculus, so she asked for my help when she met me at a tutor’s conference. A couple of professors would let me tutor students as part of my early opt out, and the advanced math class was one of them. When we met in my dorm lobby, she took one look at me and shook her head. She told me that she was going to fix me. I know I laughed at her and she looked hurt. So I told her she could do whatever she wanted, just to take that look off her face. My skin had cleared on its own over time. But she took my glasses, clothes, shoes, even my tighty whities."

  Jennifer chuckled, asking, "So what happened? I mean, I can see she did a great job..." and immediately wished she'd kept her mouth shut. She could see the light in his eyes brighten, and had to look away, pretending to be inte
rested in a breadstick.

  "Well, she took me to the mall for starters. I had a pretty penny saved from tutoring, and some other money I'd earned. She started grabbing everything in sight, and made me try it all on. After two hours of that, we had to take the bags back to the car. There was just so much stuff." He laughed and continued, “Next, she got me a haircut. It wasn't bad, but I really prefer a bit more hair than what I had left. The glasses were next. She got me contacts, but I made her help me get another set of glasses too. I hate contacts. I have some, in case of emergency, but I don't enjoy the way they feel at all. We bought an entirely new wardrobe, and she even went and made me pick a new watch." Riordan just looked at Jennifer, story told.

  Jennifer still had questions though, and her curiosity made her ask. "So what happened after that? Did you date her? Or somebody else that liked the new you?"

  He smiled. "Yeah we made love in college. Nothing long term though. I wasn't her type."

  Jennifer let the implications the simple statement made absorb in, and asked him. "Why?"

  Riordan apparently understood what she asked and responded. “She prefers women. That’s why. But she wanted to see if she could be with a man that way and enjoy it. She trusted me more than any other man and so she asked me. We were both virgins, but the experience was great, for both of us." Before she could ask, he said, "If you want more, tell me something about yourself." She definitely wanted know more, but if so, she was going to have to divulge more of herself to get it.