Jennifer's Triad

by Laura Anne Turner

  I look at her in shocked disbelief, but she goes on. “And your ass is so absolutely gorgeous you need to show it off!” A sudden thought occurs to Ina, and she snaps her fingers. “Wait, there’s something you absolutely must wear with that dress.”

  While I’m looking at my ass in the mirror, trying to figure out why Ina thinks it’s gorgeous, she rushes to the back of the shop again. She comes right back, tears open a pack of black fishnet stockings, and offers them to me. “These stockings will emphasize your killer legs, Jenny. And your biker boots will work with everything else. The heels are just high enough.”

  A laugh escapes me. “But compared to Bette and you I’m nothing, Ina.”

  Ina rolls her eyes. “You’ve obviously got absolutely no idea of how hot you are, right? You’re one of the most gorgeous girls I’ve ever seen, and believe me, I’ve seen a lot.” She smiles at me with bedroom eyes and says softly, “Why do you think we wanted you to become one of us? It’s not just because you know how to rock, Jenny.”

  I look at Ina in shock and blurt out, “You only wanted me because of my ass and boobs?”

  Ina giggles. “Oh my God, Jenny, you’re priceless. Teasing you is so much fun.” She regards me warmly. “ Seriously though, Sweetheart, you’re perfect for us. You’re a really good bass player, you’re easy to get along with, and last but not least you’re beautiful.” She smiles and holds up the stockings. “Now try these stockings on.”

  “Oh Ina, I sometimes really don’t know what to think.” I sigh. “About how I look, about what people think of me…”

  “Oh Jenny!” She hugs me and kisses me on both cheeks. “We all love you, not just Nellie. You’re part of our family now, Jen. You’ll see.”

  Back in the changing room, I put on the fishnets, which fortunately turn out to be thigh highs, and put my biker boots back on. I pull back the curtain again, and when Ina sees me, she lets out an excited little scream. “Fuck yeah, you look like a total fucking metal queen!”

  Then, another idea occurs to her. “Now, just one more thing.” She rushes off again, and this time she returns with a pair of studded leather wristbands. She puts them on for me, and pulls me to the mirror in the changing room. She puts her chin on my shoulder as I stare at my reflection. “What do you think? Do you like how you look? Do you want these things?”

  I take a deep breath, and sigh and nod. “I love everything and want everything, too, but I don’t see how I can afford everything.”

  “But you’re not going to have to pay for these things, Jenny. I’ve discussed the possibility of ‘The Coldhearts’ buying you clothes to wear during our gigs, and Bette and Nellie and I have all agreed.” She smiles at me shrewdly. “And I’ll give ‘The Coldhearts’ a special price on everything.”

  I’m staring at her in wonder. “That’s very generous of you, but how can you give ‘The Coldhearts’ a special price on all this?” I ask. “I mean, what’s the owner of this place going to say?”

  “I can give ‘The Coldhearts’ a special price on everything, because I own this place, Jenny. Well, along with my older sister. We bought this place with money from our parents. My father is a partner in one of the biggest law firms in Munich, and he makes more money than he can spend. So my mother convinced him to invest into us, his baby girls.” Ina smiles. “We’ve done our best to make him proud of us by becoming successful businesswomen.”

  “You’re so lucky, Ina,” I say with a sigh. “My mother wouldn’t even think about investing in time in her kids, and my Dad…Well I know he loves me, and I guess I could push him to give me more money, but I don’t want to.”

  “Awww, you’re so sweet, Jenny.” She hugs me again. “I’m sure I told you that before, didn’t I?”

  I shrug helplessly, unable to remember right now.

  “Oh, and before you leave here, there’s something else you need!” Ina rushes off to one of the racks, and comes back with a pair of skimpy black leather shorts.

  “What do you think? All of us wear them, even Nellie, so you should, too!” Ina says enthusiastically.

  “I don’t know…”

  “At least try them on, Jenny. Please?”

  Even though I’m not convinced I try on the leather shorts, and they fit like a second skin. Looking at my reflection in the mirror I start to realize that my ass really does look good. When Ina sees me, she just smiles and sighs blissfully. “Wow, Jenny, just wow.”

  “They are amazing, Ina. And I really have a full ass in them.” This time I giggle as I pat my leather-clad butt cheeks.

  “I would have known, Jenny.” She grins, looking me over appreciatively, and she goes on in a businesslike tone. “Now, Bette’s going to take some pictures of you in your new clothes, and she’ll post them on the band’s website, and Twitter and Instagram accounts, and I’ll post them on the boutique’s website and social media accounts, too.” She smiles, obviously quite pleased with herself. “So, you’ll be helping advertise ‘Rock the Goth’, among other things. And I haven’t had a gorgeous model like you for some time, Jen.”

  A while after noon I leave ‘Rock the Goth’ with two shopping bags full of new clothes, including the black dress, the leather shorts, the leather wristbands, two pairs of fishnet thigh highs, and a new black top featuring a practically nude picture of Taylor Momsen. I’m not even sure what else, because the makeover Ina just gave me has left me feeling a bit dazed and confused. I can actually see why Ina might think I might be apprehensive about the prospect of getting a makeover from her; it was quite an experience.

  +++

  “Oh my God, Jenny, you look like a whore!” Emilia bursts out. I’m shocked, and as my face falls, she goes on. “Look at yourself! They’ve changed you. They’ve turned you into one of them.”

  And suddenly I begin to feel sick. When I got home from ‘Rock the Goth’, I started putting away my new things. While doing this I began thinking of Emilia next door, and the idea of showing off my new look to her suddenly became overwhelming. Feeling a little wicked I quickly stripped, and put on my fishnets and my new dress without a bra or panties underneath it. The prospect of Emi seeing my hard nipples through my dress, and the idea of her being able to reach under my skirt without anything to get in the way of her hands turned me on even more. I put my biker boots back on, and I swayed slightly as I made my way from my apartment to Emilia’s.

  I cheerily opened her door, and discovered she was sitting at her desk with her earbuds in, and typing something on her laptop. I grinned, and striking a seductive pose in the doorway, I said in a husky voice loud enough she could hear me, “Hello, Emilia!”

  And she did hear me. She looks up, but I don’t get the reaction I was expecting. She’s clearly shocked, pulls out her earbuds, and I can see her hands are trembling. And then comes her outburst, saying I looked like a whore.

  “Emi, what do you mean, ‘one of them’? You mean the girls in ‘The Coldhearts’? I thought you liked them. And now suddenly you think they’re awful?”

  Emilia frowns at me. “Liking them and wanting to see you become like them are two different things, Jenny,” Emilia replies.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know what I mean. I saw them at their gigs. I saw them afterwards with all their groupies. I know what total sluts they are.”

  I sigh heavily and take a deep breath, before I answer. “Emi, you shouldn’t judge them like that. They’re nice. They care for each other. And they’re kind to me…”

  “I can’t believe you’re defending them, Jenny! I think they’ve brainwashed you!” Emilia’s voice is trembling with barely suppressed anger.

  I shake my head. “They didn’t need to brainwash me to make me one of them.” I sigh again. “I got this dress to wear onstage, because I wanted to project the same image as the other girls onstage. But I’m still the same girl as I was. I’m still Jenny.”

  I take a few steps forward, and kneel down next to Emilia’s desk chair, looking up into her eye
s. “When I got home, I was so excited at the idea of showing off my new dress for you, Emi. I thought you’d like how I looked in it. I thought it’d make you want me. I couldn’t help myself, because I love you so much…”

  My eyes begin to fill with tears, and as I touch Emilia’s arm gently, I can see and feel the tension begins to leave her. She reaches out and begins to stroke my hair.

  “I’m so sorry, Jenny. I love you, too. I just don’t like the idea of the girls in your band influencing you, changing you, turning you into someone I don’t even know…”

  “Oh Emi! I’m never going to be anyone but me. And I’m never going to stop loving you!” I take her wrist and kiss the palm of her hand. “As far as the other girls are concerned, I just think you need to get to know them better. And then you’ll stop being afraid of them, and being afraid how I might become like them…”

  Emilia looks down at me earnestly. “I don’t know, Jen. I’m so sorry how I just acted. Maybe I’m just stressed out because of school. I’m writing my bachelor’s thesis, and it’s in English, and writing in a language that I didn’t grow up speaking is so hard.” She sighs. “I think I really need to take a break from it, Sweetheart.”

  She pulls me closer, and I lay my head on her lap, while she keeps stroking my hair. She leans down, and kisses my cheek. Then she turns my head to face her, so that our lips can meet. She startles me by eagerly pushing her tongue into my mouth, but I’m not too startled that I can’t capture her tongue with my lips and suck it. Our kisses quickly become more and more heated, and I can’t contain my desire for her any longer. I rise and pull Emilia out of her desk chair and over to her foldout bed, where she lands on top of me. I cup her buttocks as she kisses my neck. Emilia slips her hand under the hem of my dress, and begins caressing my inner thighs. She moans into my mouth as she discovers I’m not wearing panties and how wet I am.

  “Oh God, Jenny, you’re so fucking hot. And that dress…I want you so much.”

  “Oh Emi, yes, fuck me.”

  Emilia slides a finger into my sopping wet pussy, and my hips jerk, as I desperately try to open the buttons of her jeans with my shaking fingers.

  “Wait,” Emilia whispers feverishly.

  She gets up and swiftly pulls down her jeans and panties, while I frantically struggle with the buckles on my new dress. Emilia pulls her sweatshirt over her head and tosses it aside, before she bends over me and helps me get my dress off. As soon as I’m completely naked, she pushes me down on my back, spreads my legs wide, and dives down between my thighs. I tilt my head back, and shudder and moan as I feel her lips and tongue on my pussy lips and on my oh-so-sensitive little pearl. I’m so wet Emilia’s able to slip two fingers into me without any problems, while her tongue dances on my lips and my clit. In the months we’ve been together she’s learned to make me cum fast and hard, but when a sudden thought occurs to me, I manage to put a stop to her ministrations for a moment.

  “Emi, wait,” I whisper huskily. “I want to cum with you.”

  She grins lasciviously, knowing at once what I mean, and she shifts her position on top of me, straddling my face with her hips. She lowers her pussy to my face, while she dives between my thighs, and slips her lips over my clit. I eagerly lick and suck her pussy’s sweet lips, and begin flicking her clit with my tongue. Before long I feel my eyes roll back into my head as my body explodes, and my hips rock and buck wildly. Emilia screams my name as she cums into my face.

  “I love you, Jen,” Emilia whispers to me a little while later as we are lying side by side, cuddling and stroking one another, our bodies flushed and covered with sweat.

  “I love you too, Emilia,” I reply truthfully. But then I close my eyes, so that Emilia can’t tell a sudden thought strikes me. It’s Nellie I’m thinking of, and how I long for her and desire her, and how I wish she were here in bed with us. And the thought of telling Emilia that terrifies me.

  +++

  It’s Carnival, and an odd thought flits through my head for a moment, just as my band mates and I arrive for our Friday night Carnival gig at a university some 50 kilometers away from home. It was a year ago today when those two bastards tried to rape me at my old band’s Carnival’s gig. I’m still not sure if one of them was Max Stauder, a guy I had a past with, but I’m not going to agonize over it now. I can hardly even think of it now, because I’m far, far too aware of Nellie’s presence beside me to think too much about anything but her...

  She’s apparently decided to become a bit of a Goth Girl, at least for tonight. She’s kept her adorable Alice Cullen hairstyle, but she’s dyed her hair black, like my own. She’s wearing makeup that emphasizes her pale skin, and her beautiful dark eyes are outlined in black. She’s as cute as ever, but she’s also sexier than ever. I can’t help noticing just how sexy she is. Nellie’s wearing tight, skimpy black shorts, which show off her perfect toned legs, and her perfect, round butt. She’s also wearing an equally skimpy black t-shirt that shows quite a bit of her belly when she lifts her arm. The t-shirt is captioned ‘Let’s cuddle and listen to metal’… on top of a picture of two girls cuddling and kissing. Naturally, it makes me think of cuddling with Nellie, and kissing Nellie…and doing more with her than just that.

  Our gig tonight is at an event called ‘The Rockers Ball’, and it’s held in the aula, the university’s largest auditorium, and in another, somewhat smaller auditorium, an arrangement allowing for two bands to play alternately without major breaks. ‘The Coldhearts’ are the event’s headliners, so we’ll be playing the aula.

  Paula, president of the local students’ organization, and also co-chair of the local LGBT student’s group, welcomes us. She has short, brown hair, and she’s dressed as a rocker dude from the nineteen fifties, with a black leather jacket, jeans, and a white t-shirt. Next to her stands a slim, pale, blonde girl with pigtails, who’s wearing a pink blouse, a puffy pink skirt, and Mary Janes. I immediately assume she must be Paula’s girlfriend.

  “I’m so happy to have you here tonight,” Paula says, shaking hands with us. Her enthusiasm puzzles me a bit. “I think it’s important for all the LGBT students here that they be properly represented. Don’t you think so, too, Emma?”

  “Yes, absolutely,” Emma agrees in a tiny voice. Emma is the blonde girl with the pigtails.

  “Maybe you might like to make a statement?” Paula resumes, looking at us expectantly. Does she want us to make a political statement?

  I look at Bette, Ina, and Nellie who’s standing so close to my left that our fingers nearly touch. Bette immediately smiles, and as usual assumes the role of the bandleader for us.

  “We’re very grateful for your invitation, Paula, but if you’re asking us to make a political statement, I’m sorry. We don’t talk politics onstage, any more than we sing about politics.” Bette smiles charmingly. “But I think we do make our own kind of statement, by being who we are, and making it clear to people just who and what we are. I think it’s a kind of statement people understand very well.”

  Bette speaks softly, smiling at Paula under her long lashes, “As I think you’ll see when you watch us tonight, Paula.”

  Paula looks absolutely staggered at Bette’s mildly flirtatious behavior, but she quickly regains her composure. She takes a quick look at Nellie’s t-shirt. “I suppose you’re right, Bette. After all, it is a Carnival party, not a political forum. I’m sure you’ll rock the house tonight. C’mon, we’ll show you around.”

  She and Emma show us the stage on which Bette’s brother Ralph and our road crew has already set up our equipment. Then the both of them guide us to the next auditorium where the party has already started, but since it’s still early the place is fairly empty yet. There’s a DJ playing classic rock songs from The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and Status Quo, while the other band’s equipment is set up.

  “The other band playing tonight is from around here,” Paula informs us, yelling over the den of the music. “They play oldie stuff as far as I know.”

&n
bsp; Then Paula and Emma guide us to a hallway outside the auditorium, which holds a long bar counter at which most of the people who are here seem to be lining for drinks.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Paula addresses Nellie and me. “If I may say so, you two are a really cute couple,” she adds with a polite smile.

  While I’m still staring at Paula in confusion, Nellie smiles beatifically at her. Grabbing my hand she says, “Oh yes, we are a couple, Paula. And yes to a drink.”

  I blush as Nellie’s touch gives me goose bumps.

  “What would you like?”

  “I’d like a beer, thanks,” I answer.

  Nellie’s still holding my hand, and I begin to feel warm all over. “I’ll have a beer, too,” she says.

  “Anyone want something different?” Paula asks Bette and Ina.

  “Beer is good,” Bette replies, and Ina nods and adds, “We never go on stage drunk or wasted. Unlike some other people,” she sniffs, apparently thinking of the dickheads from ‘Testosterone Poison’.

  “Sarah! Four beers for ‘The Coldhearts’,” Paula cries to one of the girls behind the bar. Her voice is loud enough to catch not only the attention of the bartender, Sarah, but makes a number of heads turn around to look at us.

  Sarah is a cute blonde girl who’s dressed like Madonna in her video for ‘Like a Virgin’. She smiles at us, as she pushes four bottles of beer over the counter.

  “Something to drink for you and Emma, too?” She’s speaking to Paula and Emma, but she’s staring at Nellie. I can’t exactly blame her.

  “No, not right now. Oh, and Sarah, the beers are on the house,” Paula says.

  We clink our bottles, and I take a big gulp of beer. I suddenly realize Nellie is still holding my hand. Our eyes meet and she returns my smile, while Ina and Bette watch us, clearly amused. Neither of them says a word, however.

  We watch as more and more partiers arrive. It’s strange and fascinating to see how everyone’s dressed as rock stars and rock fans from the fifties to now. There are guys in rockabilly outfits, and girls dressed in miniskirts with bouffant hairdos. There are hippies from the seventies with shoulder length hair and bell-bottom jeans. There are punks, and gender benders from the eighties. And there are quite a number of people dressed as David Bowie, from all his many different incarnations. Nellie explains that it’s a kind of tradition for this event.