“Rachel & Jenny Share a Tender Moment” – a bonus tale from the universe of Five Days
The following scene occurred approximately one hour after the departure of Sam and Alicia, the protagonists of Simon Jacobs and Amanda Woods’ new erotic e-book Five Days, recently published by OC Press. Sam and Alicia had previously used Rachel and Jenny’s dorm room for a sexual encounter.
That night, when Rachel and Jenny returned to 212 Moreson—the college dorm room they’d shared for the last two years—they found it in even more disarray than when they’d left it.
Rachel and Jenny were not messy people per se, but with regard to the cleanliness of their living space they were naturalists; that is, when a piece of clothing, book, or accessory fell to the floor, it was likely to stay there indefinitely. And tonight, the delicate mess of their habitat had most definitely been intruded upon.
Particularly, four of Rachel’s shirts were tied to the bedposts of her twin-sized bed. Rachel worked to unknot them, all the while growing more and more anxious. Who had been in here? Who had used her bed, and what sadistic game were they playing?
She imagined a naked body, each of four limbs fastened to a bedpost. It happened to be Jenny’s body. Rachel turned her roommate. She was by the door, unwinding her scarf. Rachel had always been entranced by the way Jenny wore her scarf, always over the lower half of her face, weather notwithstanding (for fashion above all else; the September weather was temperate).
Jenny stopped when she noticed Rachel’s distress. “Rachel, are you all right?”
“Someone’s been here. Look at that. Right on my bed. Look at the sheets.” She was suddenly struck with the desire to cry. Especially: to cry in front of Jenny.
She went ahead and did so, even fell onto her knees for effect. It was a matter of three seconds before Jenny was behind her, massaging Rachel’s shoulders and rubbing her back, both of which felt very, very good, and soothing, but, strangely, only made Rachel cry more.
“Rachel, what’s wrong?” Jenny asked.
“I—I don’t know, it’s just that someone’s been here, you know, in our personal space. It’s disgusting, Jennifer.”
That was Jenny’s given name. For some reason she’d decided in middle school to truncate it to Jenny. Rachel preferred the longer version—it seemed more elegant—and used it on occasions that she didn’t think Jenny would notice, like now.
“You don’t think it was Andrew, do you? I mean, you know he likes you.”
“And this is his way of showing it?!” Here, Rachel let herself collapse backwards into Jenny’s arms. The effect was wonderful, almost like snuggling. She luxuriated in it for a moment. Then her mind began to stew, and she came up with the beginnings of a plan.
Through more tears, Rachel said, “I can’t sleep on that bed knowing some crazy stranger has been there.”
“Couldn’t you change the sheets?” Jenny proposed, reasonably.
To this, Rachel let out a sob, which was a definite “no.”
Jenny paused for a minute, considering (hopefully) what Rachel wanted her to consider. Eventually, in her infinite goodwill, she said, “Well… I know you probably don’t want to, but you could always share my bed. With me. It’d be tight, but I think we’d both fit.”
Rachel sniffled, looked up at Jenny from her lap. With all of her might, she suppressed a smile. “Okay,” she said.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Sam runs into his long-time crush, Alicia, whom he hasn’t seen for years. Sam reveals that he only has five days left to live and the pair embarks on a blazingly erotic, cross-country journey through their collective past, trying to make up for all the time they have missed. Heart-wrenching, sexy, and romantic, Five Days will capture your soul.
Simon Jacobs is a young writer who currently attends an aggravatingly small college in the Midwest. In the time he doesn’t spend rambling about angst past and present, he edits the Safety Pin Review, a new medium for fiction under 30 words. His writing has appeared in places like Thought Catalog and Clean Sheets. Follow him on Twitter @mohawko, or read more protracted musings at simonajacobs.blogspot.com.