California

Wow, this place is really amazing. I'm kind of shocked one family would have so much money, and would buy such an expensive "summer cottage." Jenny uses this as her home, to avoid paying the room and board charges at school, and with three bedrooms and three bathrooms, I'm just what she needs. Who would want to live on campus anyway? I know the kind of girls who do that, and most of them would probably end up dead for crossing my path. Them and their asshole bad boy, football playing boyfriends.

The outside has a rather gothic feel to it, almost looking like a miniature model of a medieval castle, even has a little moat around it (you probably think I'm joking, but I'm not). The place is fenced in with a very high and large wrought iron fence, and has a foot bridge leading from the front yard where the car is parked, to the front door. The backyard has a foot ge lge leading out to what looks like a small gazebo with another man-made lake. What is this family with their lakes anyway?

The building has three floors, with a spiral staircase leading to each. The first room I come to is the dinning room, which has a huge chandelier hanging above it. This room also has a large screen TV set, a very plush couch, DVD and vcr players and a small bar with ice machine. A table in the center of the room has a ton of the latest magazines, most of which I most of which I don't care for. Vanity Fair (who cares), Elle (ditto), Cosmo (double yuck), The New Yorker (snooze) and Rolling Stone (feh).

Jenny is saying something about the books she lent me.

"Faith!"

"What, Jenny?"

"Did you find anything interesting in this one?" Holding up Papillion.

"Sorry, missionaries to Africa aren't exciting to me."

"What are you talking about? Didn't you know it's about a daring prison escape?"

"Sorry, Jenny, I'm too busy reading this," I found an interview with Weezer in RS, which seems to be about as good as I'm gonna get.

The kitchen really isn't much to scoff at either, but who cares about it? A chef does all the work here anyway, and this is getting boring enough as is. My bedroom is on the second floor across the hall from Jenny's room. Right now I'm going to lie on this nice bed and sleep for a good, long time.

Jenny's room is the nicer of the two, of course, but I'm not complaining. Another wide screen TV with a DVD player and VCR sits in the middle of her room, with another stereo with probably a few hundred CDs, tapes and LP albums. Lying out on top are the new albums by Zwan, the Roots, Ours and King Crimson. Her room has many posters of different films, including Fight Club, Blade, The Godfather, Psycho and a couple for The Pussycats, all of which are signed by Melody.

I'm probably boring you right now, you don't really care about this house, but I certainly am astounded by it. And just to think a few short hours ago I was listening to my cell mate breaking down. I often wonder how Tammy is holding up without me there to comfort her. She's probably bouncing around in a padded cell now, with her hair matted in blood from bashing it against the toilet, screaming how "That fucking whore Faith fucked me over," all the while plotting the revenge of the century and screaming something nasty about Jenny and/or Buffy. That, or she's now the bitch of some really nasty bull dagger who's beating the shit out of her, heh heh heh.

"How's your dinner, Faith?" Jenny with blue eyes blazing, smiling at me at the dinner table. I shake my head yes, "At least it's better than Chef Boyaredee!" Jenny blushes while her cook shoots a nasty look my way. "Just kidding, yes, I like it a lot."

Tomorrow I plan on paying the gang a visit. By now they've read about the Hitchens lawsuit and the list of prisoners who have been released to the public. I'm sure Willow is steaming mad they let me out, probably afraid I'm gonna break up her and little Tara, just like I fucked Xander before she could. Heh, I won't break them up, they're both invited in on the fun. B, on the other hand, is probably back with some stupid limp dick boy, maybe even Xander, who is probably happy I'm out for other reasons, reasons that won't come true, at least not until I've had my fill of B and Red. I'm supposed to be on my best behavior, but if I see that little farm boy, I'm gonna rip his fucking heart out, and shove it down his throat. It isn't like anybody would miss him, and I sure as fuck would be doing B a favor.
r ber being on the nice side of town, the nights here sure are noisy. A railroad track is two miles from the house, and wouldn't you know the busiest night of the year would be my first night here? Why do they always blow their whistle anyway? I've seen the place, it's a single lane track, if there was a train coming the other direction, they sure as hell better have more than just a train whistle. Way I look at it, anybody stupid enough to drive their car on train tracks when a train is coming deserves to fucking die.

The next morning I'm face to face with Jenny much too early.

"Rise and shine sleepy head."

Oh God no, not this already. Nobody should tell me when to wake uxcepxcept for me. I'm nude, wrapped up in blankets, wondering if I should get out and put on a little show for Jenny. My erect nipples clearly show through the silk sheets. I can imagine her blushing again, acting embarrassed and modest about me doinge dae dae dance for her, but deep inside wanting me.

Before I can, she walks out of the room and calls from the hall, "Don't be too long, you're supposed to be up by now, but I let you sleep in a little bit. I got you an interview for a job at the library at noon, better get dressed, washed up and eat a little something."

Knowing it's either this or the big house, I'm up out of bed, and walking down the hallway to the shower in the buff. I hear Jenny gasp as she walks out of her room. I laugh as I shut the door behind me and get in the much too large for one shower. I wonder if I'm everything she thought I was? Jenny should be joining me right now, her lathering me up, massaging my breasts, my hand rubbing her belly, sliding between her legs, parting soft, moist lips. She does have one of those shower massager things. That definitely is going to come in handy.

The shower today has to be cut short, since Jenny informs me I have 20 minutes to get dressed, throw some food down my throat and be off. Thankfully the library is just down the street, but I still am not happy with this setup. I was thinking it would be so much easier, just me and Jenny sitting around all day. We'd listen to some music, have some fun with each other in bed, maybe hit the clubs at night after she made her prison call, join the others and it'd be like old times. Never did I think the grind of being a wage slave would play a part in it.


*****

God, what a lame fucking job. I hate the people I'm working with already, and I've barely been here an hour. The boss yells at everybody to get back to work, yet he's spent the entire day with a bottle in his mouth. When he walks by, he reeks of the $5 liquor he probably bought at the local secondhand store.

Then there are the bitter old women who can't stop bitching about what sluts their daughters are. They look at me with disgust, probably because I didn't wear a bra today, and their tits are no longer firm like mine.

But that's nice compared to the young guys who are here. Brad, the douche bag frat boy from the local college never looks me in my eyes, only at my tits. Okay, so I deserve that for wearing this shirt without a bra, but the way he keeps asking me out, even when I tell him no is pissing me off. Is he that fucking stupid that he doesn't even know what "I'd rather eat dog shit" means?

God, Jenny, why this fucking dump? Why now?

I sneak off to the basement to have a Mars bar in peace, and to get away from the bitter bitch posse, and Brad the deaf frat boy. *Sigh* Only three hours until I can get back home. I'm bringing myself a Discman tomorrow. If only Jenny would tell me how to make those cool mixed cds.