by Jessie Jasen
Magic Juice
Part 1
Virgin Encounter
by Jessie Jasen
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Jessie Jasen
Published at Smashwords
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.
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Forbidden fruit tastes sweetest.
Chapter 1
The glass Concordia Shagger hurled missed Perry’s head by only an inch, hitting the wall next to the portrait of William Shagger I, Concordia’s great grandfather and the founder of the Shagger Inc. empire. The glass shattered to thousand pieces, scattering around the room and damaging the frame of Concordia’s great grandfather’s portrait, but omitting to damage its intended target—Perry.
"You bastard!" Concordia screamed, tears strolling down her cheeks. "How could you? How could you do this to me? I was saving myself for you! All this time! I was saving myself for you!"
"Concordia, darling, you know I love you," Perry said sympathetically, his straw blond forelock covering a pea-sized mole above his left eyebrow.
"I’d do anything for you, I swear. It was a mistake! A mistake, Concordia! Nothing more! I don’t feel anything for her. You’re the one I love."
"Perry, you’re such a liar!" Concordia shot back, spit of anger drizzling from her lips. "Ever since I got engaged to you my life has been hell. You’ve been telling me one lie after another. First you tell me you’ve quit drinking, and then I find out you’ve been sleeping with my best friend. My best fucking friend, Perry! If you were determined to cheat on me, couldn’t you have chosen someone who’s not my friend?"
Perry wanted to say something, but his insecurities rendered him speechless. Any comment he could think of was potentially damaging. He looked at Concordia despairingly. He was angry at himself for having bragged about sleeping with his fiancée’s best friend in front of his pals at his bachelor party. It was their mouthiness that turned his secret about his one-night stand into public knowledge. But what would be the fun in breaking a taboo if you had no one to share it with? The sex with Concordia’s best friend didn’t really bother Perry. He saw no harm in dunking his cookie into another woman’s cup of tea before their wedding. But he was worried about his future with Concordia. And yet, in spite of his worries, he was relieved that the glass Concordia hurdled at him had damaged her great grandfather’s portrait, and not his head.
Perry was aware that having cheated on Concordia was a mistake that could cost him a lot—his future as a spouse of an heiress to a business empire, and his reputation. Seen from that aspect, it was crazy that he cheated, but he didn’t think about the consequences when he was cheating. He was simply enjoying the adventure.
It was even crazier that he bragged about having cheated to his mouthy friends at his own bachelor party. His friends did a nasty thing—they told their friends, and these friends told their friends until the gossip made several circles, making the final stop at Concordia’s ears.
Crazy too was that Marianne wanted to sleep with her best friend’s fiancé at the wedding party of a mutual friend of hers and Concordia’s—wedding at which she and Concordia were maids of honor.
Perry saw the events of that ominous evening flash like a movie before his eyes.
It was a hot and a steamy night. Summer. About fifty guests were cramped on a relatively small dance floor, shaking their booties to top ten dance hits and evergreen romantic music. The atmosphere was heated and sexual. People sweated. Some were in bad need of deodorant wipes, but for the most part, the body odors were bearable. Others perspired so much, their clothes glued to their bodies revealing skin and voluptuous curves.
Like Marianne. Her dress was so tight, you could almost see through it. She didn’t wear a bra, which was very dirty, since her nipples stood erect on her succulent breasts like twin Eiffel towers on Mouth Everest, bouncing to the music above curvaceous hips. Perry thought that her curves broke all the records of architectural proportions for football stadiums.
Marianne asked Perry to dance an honorary dance with her to a romantic song. He agreed. As they danced together, her boobs pressing against his, she whispered in his ear how disappointed she was that Concordia, her best friend, didn’t catch the bouquet. She said that it meant Concordia wasn’t going to marry just yet.
Perry smiled and reminded her that their wedding was in two months. Marianne smiled back. Her eyes had a lusty sheen. Her sweat, the look in her eyes, but especially her deep cleavage exposing most of her breasts, shot an arrow of desire through him. Marianne’s sweat dripped down from the back of her head to her chest, meandering like a river as it entered the deep slit in her cleavage. He loved to watch women sweat. She must have noticed his gaze, because she laughed and told him she had something she wanted him to see.
The next thing Perry remembered was Marianne being alone in a dark room with him, her tongue deep in his mouth and he sucking on it passionately, while her hand wandered around his waist and down his pants. She stroked him intensively before she released herself from his embrace, walked over to the window pane, sat herself on it, lifted her dress, told him to come over, grabbed his hand and shoved it between her legs. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. Perry’s fingers stroke the slippery slope, gliding inside her naturally and penetrating her with very arousing thrusts.
He unzipped his pants and took her right there on the window pane, unable to control his desire. He stuffed her deep with his slender cock, howling like a wolf at a full moon. He thrusted and thrusted, completely oblivious of the surroundings or the fact that he was engaged and about to get married.
His senses only returned when he came, spilling his seed inside her like toxic waste.
The sex was short but very exciting, as forbidden sex usually is. The following day, after his head had sobered up, Perry found himself looking for excuses, excuses on every account to why he ended up sleeping with his fiancée’s best friend.
It was the heat that evening, he told himself, the heat and the music, the informal atmosphere, Marianne’s sexy looks, her inviting cleavage, her long legs. It was the alcohol. Yes, the alcohol was to blame the most. When Perry had a few drinks, his sense of judgement, his sense of what was right and what was wrong was lost. With his moral pushed to the side, he turned into a stereotypical male whose basic instincts ruled his conduct, not his mind and certainly not his heart. How could have he controlled himself with a gorgeous woman leading him on?
No man would have been able to withstand the temptation, he told himself, the temptation of having an innocent one-night stand with no strings attached.
But women didn’t think this way. A woman was guided by her heart and her heart was the key to her fidelity. Concordia’s reaction was in sync with the way Perry thought about women. They were emotional and attached themselves physically to the partner. A woman who loved her man didn’t stray. Unlike the man who loved his woman. For the man, feelings were irrelevant when it came to sex. He could have sex with many, but love onl
y one.
Perry realized he was in dire straits. His gullibility and weakness for women who exploit men sexually brought him in serious jeopardy. In Perry’s eyes, it was Marianne who exploited him by seducing him. He had no wrongdoing in what had happened. He was drunk when the sex happened, and inebriation absolved him of responsibility.
But not the guilt.
He was ready to repent, but the odds of Concordia accepting his apology played against him. She was hardheaded, stubborn and rebellious, the type of a woman who would never let a man tell her what to do.
The worst of all was the realization that Concordia might break off the engagement. She was still a virgin. She had been saving herself for him, and now Perry, who was to take her virginity in the most romantic way, had betrayed her trust. Concordia had played out the scenario of them making love for the first time in her head millions of times since she was a teenager. She had told him about her secret fantasies. Now it was obvious that her fantasies would never come true, and she was deeply hurt. There was a realistic chance she would break off their engagement.
His engagement to Concordia was Perry’s ticket for the ride into her family’s highly profitable business. After their engagement had been announced, Concordia’s father, William Shagger III, offered Perry to take over the position of the manager in his multimillion dollar enterprise—after the marriage with Concordia had been sealed, of course. The thought of having his ticket annulled, of not having the chance to climb the social ladder and step up from the bottom rung straight into wealth was harrowing. All the years he had been working on seducing Concordia and preparing her to become his would be gone in a blink of an eye.
Concordia stared at her fiancé with outmost wrath. This was it for her. This was the final straw. If Perry intended to hurt her with his carelessness, he definitely shot an arrow in her Achilles heal. Perry, her fiancé, the man she loved so much, trusted and believed in, slept with her best friend Marianne at their friend’s wedding party. Argh! Concordia wanted to run away somewhere far, into the woods or to the top of the mountain, and scream her anger to the world. And Marianne? Well, she had nothing more to say to that bitch. Concordia wished that Marianne was dead, or better—divorced after being married for three months and left broke by her ex-husband. No spousal support! In Concordia’s eyes, a short-lived marriage was the worse thing that could happen to a woman. Worse than dying. Divorce was a public admittance of failure. Death was just a fact of life.
She wished that the glass she threw at Perry had landed on his head. It would have been just to see him bleed. Bleed, like her heart was bleeding.
"You don’t have anything to say to me anymore, Perry?" Concordia asked, her voice clearly burdened by hurt and pain.
"I’m so sorry, Concordia," Perry said, doing his best to let his vocal cords echo the remorsefulness and the guilt he thought he felt.
"I’m so so truly sorry. I beg of you, Concordia—forgive me."
Concordia wiped away the last tear that fell from her cheeks, the last tear she would shed for this man. She was going to cry no more. She was going to be strong and brave. Fuck romance. She was going to survive, and have the time of her life on the way.
She walked over to Perry and looked him deep in the eyes, those wonderful blue eyes that were like two magical waterfalls, innocently blinking underneath his sun-burnt straw blonde hair. There would be no romantic first time with Perry, no realization of her teenage fantasies in which she straddled him and sat on his face, fantasies in which he rode her from behind and let her suck on his gorgeous cock.
Concordia raised her right arm and slapped Perry across the face with full force, catching his nose.
Perry’s upper body tilted to the side, so strong was the blow. A few drops of blood fell to the floor, staining the points of his shoes. He cupped the tip of his nose as if to verify that it was really happening, that his nose was really bleeding. Shocked and incredulous to see it was true, he gave Concordia a frightened look.
"What the fuck?!"
Concordia smiled crookedly. "Serves you right. Pity the glass didn’t hit your head."
"Fuck!" Perry exclaimed, collecting drops of blood from his now profusely bleeding nose and shaking it from his hand.
Concordia turned around and marched off to the door of her living room.
"Where are you going?" Perry called in despair, uncertain if the despair was greater over losing Concordia or over losing the prospect of becoming wealthy. When she didn’t answer, he became desperate.
"Come back here!" he called, staring at her back. "I won’t let you leave like this. I won’ let you leave, Concordia! I’ll keep coming to you until you take me back!"
Concordia raised her middle finger high in the air as if it was the Statue of Liberty, and walked out the door.
***
The cream-colored leather seat of Concordia’s space shuttle Lioness was cold. In fact, the whole cockpit was cold. It would take ten, maybe fifteen minutes until the heater began blowing hot air and the space shuttle warmed up.
Lioness had been in Concordia’s possession for two months. From the moment she laid her eyes on this shuttle, she was fervently in love with it. The model was the latest available on the market, and among all space shuttles she owned, Lioness was her favorite.
It was no surprise that she instinctively chose Lioness to get away from her home planet as far as possible, this shuttle and no other. It was a gift from her father for her last birthday, red in color and powered by a Ferrari engine, which meant that it had enough horse power to fly her through the entire galaxy if she wanted to. She didn’t have to fear star storms or star dusts. Lioness was double-shielded and there was nothing more reliable than a Ferrari engine when it came to star storms.
Concordia ignited the engine and flew out of the garage of her home, leaving her former fiancé and bad memories behind. It felt good to be inside Lioness and away from Perry. That bastard, she thought. She’d never want to see him again.
The space shuttle flew into the golden sunset of an early evening. Concordia remembered how much she enjoyed flying this beauty of a shuttle that had a built-in stick and an automatic pilot. The first time Concordia flew Lioness with gear stick, she struggled to get it right for two hours, chocking the motor over and over, and hang gliding in space. Still, the experience was making her horny. To learn to control a mechanical beast as untamed as Lioness was orgasmic.
But once she learned to control her, a triumphant feeling eroded all the frustration that had build up inside Concordia, lobbing her spirits into a post-orgasmic state of bliss.
Two months later, Concordia had gained enough experience as a gear shift pilot to win the space race. Not that her joy of flying and the golden trophy mattered right now. The debris of her broken heart was polluting her on the inside, and the pain rested heavily. But it was important to remember things she liked about her life, especially at moments like these.
She turned the autopilot off and clasped the stick, shifting gears as the shuttle flew through the stratosphere. Watching her home planet from above made her feel aloof, and feeling aloof was a good thing, because it was exactly what she needed—distance, distance, and more distance.
And yet, maintaining distance was hard. At this moment it was even impossible. What had she done to deserve such a treatment from the man she loved? Did she pick the wrong guy? Was Perry nothing but a prick who glued to her for her money, and she was too blinded by her love to see the truth? Poor me, she thought, feeling pity for herself, than scorning herself for being miserable over a prick of epic proportions who didn’t deserve to be called a man.
The round top of the shift stick felt good in her hand. It made her think of Perry’s own man-stick. She couldn’t help but compare the two, wondering what it would have been like to shift the gears of Perry’s stick until the motor exploded. The wedding was to be in two months. Concordia had been counting the days and the nights, eager to experience the feel of his stick shifting inside her.
She had seen him naked on a couple of occasions, and on no account would she now admit that she liked what she saw—not after all that had happened. But she remembered well that it was long and straight, with a perfect girth and a finely shaped pink crown.
She was certain his stick would have had a long staying power during their cruises.
Once upon a time, she read an article in a women’s magazine about the sex with the ex. The writer claimed that seducing her ex-boyfriend was one of the hottest sex adventures she experienced in her life. Concordia sighed. For a moment she wished she had given her virginity to Perry before the wedding night, because if she had, she would have seduced him after slapping him properly on the face. She would have practically violated him, and then when she’d taken her pleasure, she would have stood up and left. She wouldn’t have told him she was leaving him forever. That would have been the surprise. She would have just got up, and left the room without a word. She wouldn’t have mentioned that in her heart, he became history the moment he slept with her best friend Marianne.
