Date: Mon, 23 Apr 2001 05:10:08 +0800
From: Inked Soul <inkedsoul@hotmail.com>
Subject: Jetaime Chapter 1

This is my first attempt at writing lesbian literacy, and will gladly
welcome any comments about my works. Encouragement and demoralizing
criticism are equally welcomed. Do email me at inkedsoul@hotmail.com.
Here comes the mind-numbing disclaimer:

The following story below is written by Inked Soul, and can be freely
distributed publicly so as credits are stated clearly to Inked Soul.
Also, sexual contents, female/female sex and other relevant adult
material are included in the story. Do not read any further beyond this
sentence if you (1) are under legal age (in your country) or (2) do not
favor such sexual material.

That's about it, people. Read on and I do hope you enjoy it!


Jetaime

Chapter One


Sam stared with bewilderment at the aspiring Marilyn Manson girl
in front of her. She shudders to think what it'd be like, to wake up in
the middle of the night and seeing a walking corpse like her having
coffee on her 1800s Victorian dining table. Lisping through her pierced
tongue, the Marilyn Manson wannabe grunted,

"So, do we have a deal here or not? I may have problems paying for
the first month's rent though..."

"Erm, Marley right? I'll get back to you, ok?" Sam replied
nervously. "Sam, poise yourself. You deal with ugly 50-year-olds
perverted businessmen in your job, and now, you can't handle a 19-year-
old angst filled teenager?" she thought.

"Yeah, just don't take too long." Marley glared with her red
contacts eyes.

"Well, that was quite an encounter..." Sam thought in disbelief as
she watched Marley leave. That Marley girl was her 7th applicant for the
afternoon. Sam lives in Brooklyn, NY, down at 18th Street, alone in a
luxurious 5-room apartment, which she inherited from her grandfather. 5
rooms became too much of an isolation for senior marketing executive
like her, who happens to be in the Single's club for the last 2 years.
She thought it could be healthier for her to have some socialization at
home, perhaps with a roommate. Thus, she placed an advertisement on the
classifieds a couple of days back, offering a room for a nominal sum. To
Sam, money is secondary to human companionship. However, at the rate it
was going so far, she would be better off getting a dog.

Sam signed as she sunk into her amazingly comfortable red
armchair. "How the hell did I end up this way?" regrets ran bitterly in
her ocean of thoughts.

Samantha Francis. 29 years of age with short chestnut brown hair
and hazel-brown eyes that seem to speak silent words of expression.
Towering the average woman at 5'8", with a well-toned body to match,
it's little wonder why the typical chauvinistic men find her
intimidating. Not that she complains though, since she has entered the
beautiful yet condemned world of lesbianism 6 years back, when she met
Cheryl. At that point of time, she thought Cheryl was the one. She toyed
with the idea of spending the rest of her life with her. "Always expect
the unexpected," she scoffed at herself. It was on her birthday, 4 years
into their relationship, when Cheryl mercilessly stabbed her heart with
the words,

"I've been seeing someone for the last 4 months, and I love him."

Him. A male. At that point of time, Sam's eyes piled up with tears
of sorrow instantaneously. She was too stunned to even utter a single
word. All she managed to do was to look at Cheryl vacantly. Suddenly,
their train of emotions, thoughts and physical intimacy doesn't seem to
exist anymore. Cheryl has backed out from the complications of being a
lesbian, something that society doesn't accept, and has succumbed to
following the norm. A tiny tear tickled down Sam's chiseled cheeks as
she reminisce her one and only lesbian relationship 2 years back. Since
Cheryl abruptly walked out of her life, she kept herself extremely busy
at work, and managed to be promoted within a short span of 1 year.
However, she withdrawn herself from the dating field and hasn't quite
glued her broken heart back.

"Ding Dong!"

The doorbell interrupted her thoughts. Sam dragged herself to the
door, expecting another eccentric applicant. As she peered behind the
door, she nearly fell over at the sight of the finest of God's creation
at her doorstep. There the stranger stood, at about 5'4", with blonde
hair flowing down to her slim waist and crystal blue eyes.

"Hello. I'm Jetaime McGuire. I was wondering if your room is still
up for rent?"

"Huh? What?" Darn! She thought. Wake up Sam! Say something
logical! She was too mesmerized by the beauty in front of her that her
brain came to a halt and everything seemed to freeze in awe of her
beauty.

"It's ok. I guess I came too late." Jetaime began to turn her back
to walk away.

"No, wait a minute! Sorry," Sam recollected herself up. "Actually,
my room is still open for rent, do you want to view it?"

Jetaime smiled. "Oh god, that smile is lethal," Sam thought as she
showed Jetaime into her apartment. She explained to Jetaime that she
found having 5 rooms to her more of a liability, since she doesn't have
anyone in her life, and that she can't exactly sell the apartment away
since her deceased grandfather gave it to her. "It isn't ethnical," she
explained. As Jetaime continued exploring her apartment, Sam watched her
every move. "Wow, she's beautiful..." her thoughts lingered on before
she realized she hasn't exactly interviewed Jetaime.

"Sorry, but I didn't catch your name just now,"

"Jetaime."

"What?" Did she just said she love me? Sam thought shockingly.

"Jetaime McGuire. I know, I have a stupid name. My ever-romantic
father thought it would be special to christen me after his over-
exhausted word."

"No no no, it's beautiful, believe me"

"Thank you," Jetaime blushed slightly. That's one of the vices for
having snow-white complexion. It's obvious when you blush.

"Do you want to sit down while I get you some coffee? I do have to
interview you, you know, regardless of how pretty you are," Sam grinned.
Shit! She was flirting! When was the last time she did that?

"Haha," Jetaime laughed nervously. "Ok..."

Sam made coffee and they spoke for about an hour in her cozy
living room decorated with such exaggerated English concept, courtesy of
her grandfather. Sam found out that Jetaime is 24, currently majoring in
Communications in NYU, and her accent came from living in Manchester,
England, for the last 5 years. Sam wondered if she should notice Jetaime
of her sexual orientation. Nah, I'll just keep my life low profile. She
brushed the moral voice inside her.

With that, Jetaime was told to move in the following week. No
drugs, no more than a friend over for the night and no prostitution.
That was the basic ground rules laid out clearly for Jetaime. It sounds
good, Jetaime thought. Sam seems like a nice person. She can't wait to
finally move out of her disastrous house, which she suffering tediously
living with her family.