Authors: Stacey Summers
Copyright © 2013 Stacey
All rights reserved.
For the real Jason Chandler.
She felt him pulsating inside of her. His huge,
erect penis slid in and out. One hand clenching the pillow, the other on the
small of his back. She was not a virgin, but by the third orgasm, she may have
After muttering the word, her command was granted.
Jason's sweaty hands grasped Jamie's tight, and his hips sunk into hers. He was
taking her to a place she had never been before. She had never had a man like
At 26, Jamie
was already defeated. A semester away from completing Law School, she was
getting closer to both beginning her career and a life she did not want.
"The only thing that can help me right now is
a vodka martini," she said to her best friend Alicia.
"You know I'm always good for a few,"
said Alicia. "I'll text Christine, she never turns down a drink."
The last few weeks had proven very stressful for
Jamie, who hit the bottle far more often than was socially acceptable, even by
college standards. Her parents worried about her.
The girls sat down at the table inside
, Evanston's finest martini bar. The lighting was dark and most people
were dressed nice, not like the dive bars Jamie frequented when she was an
undergrad. She was grown up now, in her mind, and adults drink the nectar of
"This feels good, we need to do this more
often," stated Christine, who was sporting a fake smile.
Jamie, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from
her eyes, said, "I can't wait for this shit to be over. This has been my
life for the last six..no seven years. It's been seven fucking years since I
moved out of my parents house."
"Jamie, you're going to be a fucking lawyer.
This shit is going to pay off for you," said Alicia.
Jamie heard a buzzing noise coming out of her
purse. She reached in and pulled out her phone. It was her father calling.
Sometimes she answered phone calls from her father. She had not spoken to her
mother since last Christmas, when it is obligatory to speak to family you don't
like. Now was not the time. The phone took a final buzz and then stopped. She
slid the phone into her pocket.
"Did your vibrator accidently switch
on?" Alicia said with her smirk.
"Shut up!" Jamie said playfully.
"You said that loud enough didn't you?"
"I think those cute guys over there heard you
say that!" said Christine, who had not taken her eyes off of the table of
men since she walked in.
"They're probably gay anyways. No straight
guy comes here without a girl on his hip," argued Jamie.
The girls continued to exchange conversation on
the cold March night. They were within walking distance of Jamie's apartment.
It was something they use to do more often, back when Alicia and Christine were
also students at the university. Closing time was approaching, so they decided
to begin the short walk back. Opening the door brought a relieving breeze. They
stepped outside and made a left down the sidewalk. Laughing and walking in the
not-so-straight line only intoxicated people can, they continued their journey
until they reached about half way home.
"Hey, there is a guy walking behind us,"
"He followed us from the bar, he wants to
fuck you Christine!" laughed Alicia.
"Keep walking," said Jamie sternly.
"Let's go down this alley and get on that side street over there. That's a
shortcut to my place anyways."
The girls made a left down the alley between
buildings, and made it to the side street. They continued walking, but Jamie
kept a watch for the man to see if he would follow them.
"Come on Jamie!" Alicia shouted about
ten feet ahead.
The man's shadowy silhouette appeared in the alley
way, walking briskly toward the girls.
"What the hell are you doing?" shouted
The man pulled a pistol out of his jacket and
pointed it at the group. Christine and Alicia both let out blood curdling
"Don't fucking move or I will shoot! Drop
your purses!" the man shouted. "Don't scream again or I will empty
this clip right in you."
All three girls dropped their purses towards the
man. He raised his sock cap above his brow to examine the contents of the bags.
Christine and Alicia were both crying and shaking. Jamie looked down at the
contents of her bag. The man, with a smile of yellow and missing teeth, grabbed
Christine by the arm.
"You come with me. If you make a sound or
fight I will shoot you right between the fucking eyes."
"Please no! Please!" sobbed Christine.
The entire street lit up in a wave of red and
"Police! Drop your weapon!"
A tall police officer stood behind his car door, pointing
a gun at the suspect. He dropped Christine and took off running. The police
officer sprinted after him. He chased him until both were out of sight.
Christine and Alicia were both grasping each other, crying, and shaking. Jamie
stood and watched, as calmly as one could, flinching with the sound of a
gunshot, and the accompanying screams of her friends.
"Holy shit!" shouted Jamie. Get up!
Stand up guys!".
Both girls stood up. Just then somebody turned the
"We got him! You're safe!"
The police officer walked towards the group. His
square jaw illuminated against the moonlight, almost angel-like.
"Is everyone okay?"
"Yeah we're fine. Christine may have a bruise
but we got off pretty lucky," said Jamie.
"How did you find us?" asked Alicia.
"I received a dispatch to come here. Somebody
called 911 and the GPS coordinates lead me here," responded the officer.
"Nobody called 911!" Alicia said.
"I did," Jamie said solemnly. "I
had my phone in my coat pocket and dialed with my hand inside. I wasn't sure if
it went through. You got here really quick," she said, still attempting to
catch her breath.
"What about the man? Did you shoot him?"
"He drew a weapon at me, so I had to use
lethal force. He is dead," the officer said regrettably.
"Oh my God!" Christine shouted, muffling
her cries with the palms of her hands.
Another police car pulled in. Seconds later, the
street was filled with red and blue flashing lights. Jamie sat on the curb,
opened her purse, and pulled out a half-empty pack of cigarettes. The flame of
the lighter illuminated her face a yellowish-orange, deviating from the
silver-blue the full moon was basking the street in. She took a drag, breaking
the promise she made to herself to quit smoking but rebuking that this was a
good exception to the rules. The smoke rising from her face revealed her blue
eyes, smoky in their own right. An ambulance pulled in. EMT's reviewed the
girls to make sure they were okay. The ambulance, sent with the intention of
picking up victims of an assault, instead picked up the body of the assaulter,
after the coroner and police were finished with him.
The girls spent most of the night at the police
station giving statements. Jamie had learned the name of the fast responding
policeman, Officer Jason Chandler. By sunrise, the girls were escorted home.
Jamie laid on her bed and imagined Officer Chandler. She had heard once that
the average response time for a police officer in Evanston was 12 minutes. In
that deadly situation, where seconds feel like hours, he was there in what
seemed like 30 seconds from the moment she dialed 911. Nevertheless, she was
safe. She rolled over in her bed and went to sleep.
The deadly encounter put an end to
the girls' social life. They all agreed they were not going out anymore. Alicia
and Christine had already been living this way since they had graduated, but
Jamie was disappointed. They had learned that the man who tried to attack them
was a sexual predator, William Raymond
previously serving prison time for sexual assault against a woman. The story
appeared on the news. Officer Chandler was commended for his actions that
night. Jamie had not seen him since the incident, about a month ago. She would
often look when squad cars passed her to see if she could catch a glimpse of
him. She did not hear a struggle between Chandler and the bastard, or yelling.
Just the one gun shot. They were far away though.
The BAR exam was fast approaching. Jamie picked up the empty bottles of vodka
that graced her desk and put them in the recycling bin. The bottles made a
terrible noise, glass hitting glass, that told Jamie what she didn't want to
know. She never told her parents about getting mugged and almost shot. She
figured her mother would flip out and want to come interject herself back into
her life. She wasn't going to allow that to happen. She had gotten so far. Her
father would just worry, and she didn't want that for him.
Closing her textbook for the evening, Jamie resigned to the kitchen. Opening
her cabinets revealed them to be quite empty. Ramen noodles were not on the
menu tonight. She grabbed her keys off the kitchen table and headed out to her
car, a maroon Camry. She looked into her own blue, tired eyes in her car
mirror. Letting out a half sigh, half mumble, she said "Fucking grocery
She entered the store and grabbed a cart. Her eyes
scanned the store for people she knew. Sometimes, if she was swift enough, she
could spot people she wanted to avoid and turn down an aisle to avoid
detection. This is why she knew she would never be a successful lawyer. Instead
of facing up to people, she avoided them. She wanted to make her father happy,
ecstatically bringing him the acceptance letter to law school and seeing his
happiness and tears of joy.
Neurotically walking down every aisle, Jamie's
eyeballs danced around, she occasionally taking an item off the shelf and
throwing it in. She made a left down the main aisle, and spotted the alcoholic
beverages. She made herself not go that way, heading steadfastly to the
produce. She took a deep breath, and smiled. Her father always told her that
she didn't smile enough. That she had a beautiful smile. She continued into the
produce and suddenly stopped in her tracks as if she had been struck by
lightning. There was Officer Chandler, examining cantaloupes, as if it held
some clue at a crime scene. The trauma from the first time they met left her
memory spotty about his appearance. Tall, maybe 6'3, broad shoulders, dark
brown hair. That jaw line. She didn't know what color his eyes were.
"Pardon me!" said an old lady, waiting
to escape aisle five, but encumbered by Jamie's frozen nature. She slid out of
the way and debated if she should try to talk to him. She could feel the sweat
forming on her brow. She nearly turned and went down the way she came, but alas
her instinct propelled her forward. She pushed her cart, growing an intense
anxiety with each squeak of the cart's wheel. He looked up and made eye
contact. Green. Jamie flashed her smile, and casually said "Nice set of
melons you got there!".
Officer Chandler smiled back with a laugh.
"Thanks! I remember you! How are you?"
"I'm holding up, better than my friends. They
have resorted to locking themselves in their apartments and never coming out.
I'm not going to let that guy win like that."
Officer Chandler had some stubble, suggesting that
he had not been at work in a couple of days. "What was your name? I feel
like we need to give ourselves a normal introduction. My name's Jason. Jason
Jamie, who had not stopped smiling, introduced
herself and shook the hand of the olive skinned police officer. During
conversation, Jamie's eyes peered down at Jason's left hand. She examined his
fingers and saw what she had hoped for. They continued a conversation for
"We should get lunch or grab coffee sometime.
I'm always in town," Jason said casually. He scribbled on a piece of paper
and handed her his number.
"That would be fun. Here, I will give you my
number. Let me call you."
Jamie fumbled with her cell phone and managed to
dial Jason's number, hands trembling. Music started coming from his pocket, he
reached down and pulled out his phone. "Breaking the Law, Breaking the
Law" played his phone.
"Sweet ring tone, you like Judas
Priest?" asked Jamie, proud that she could identify the band.
"Yeah, but I can hardly believe you know that
band. That's fucking awesome!" said Jason with a puzzled, yet happy grin
on his face.
"They're my dad's favorite band. I grew up
around that stuff. Rob
is the shit!"
Jamie said with a charismatic smirk.
"You are getting coffee with me! I'm calling
you!" Jason half-yelled, drawing the eyeballs of shoppers nearby. The two
made their own separate departures from the store. Jamie drove back to her
apartment all smiles. For the first time in what seemed like years, she had
something on her mind besides school, her mother, her career, or getting
mugged. She fumbled with her keys attempting to gain entry to her apartment.
Upon stepping inside, she threw her keys on the table and set her groceries
next to the refrigerator. She made her way down the hall, opening up her
bedroom door. Turning the lights on, she collapsed onto her bed, staring up
into the light. She laid deep in thought, mind transient to the whim of sheer
coincidence. She unbuttoned her pants and slid them off. The bare skin of her
legs felt divine on top of her freshly washed bed sheets. Her hand, like a
predator honing in on its prey, maneuvered slowly down to her waistline. Her
middle finger leading the slow charge. She began by softly rubbing her clit.
Her legs stretched. Immediately wet, she continued with light strokes on the
inside of her labia. Her pace quickened. Her index finger came back up to the
clit, now lubricated from her own arousal. In a rehearsed motion, her index
finger slid into her vagina, with her thumb now stimulating her clitoris. She
often used her vibrator for times like this, but Officer Chandler had already
gotten her off to a head start. Jamie moaned this time, which was unusual for
her. She didn't care if her neighbors could hear. She climaxed with an
intensity that was rare for her, and it left her out of breath. Her clean
sheets were no more. Walking to the bathroom continued the sensations. She
turned the bathtub knobs over and walked back into the kitchen, grocery bags
still strewn about the floor. She found the bag she was looking for, picking it
up retrieving her traditional post orgasm food, ice cream. Jamie opened the
pint to find it half melted. She got a spoon and took a bite.