introduction
I wanted to pen Nervous for several reasons. I have always been intrigued by the short story I first wrote by the same name for The Sex Chronicles: Shattering the Myth. The complexity of the character drew me to her and so many readers felt a connection with the one known only as “SHE.” Many women have two sides to them: the good girl and the bad girl. Most of the time they try to hide the bad girl, not realizing how short life truly is and how at the end of it, there is nothing we can do about regrets and missed opportunities.
I thought about what was the wildest thing that could ever possibly happen to a woman and thus, Jonquinette Pierce was created. A woman that, in her mind, is a virgin, but she suffers with a split personality disorder. The other woman in her is a whore. The contrast between the two was a delight to write. I also love my character. Nervous is the second in a planned five-book series that features the psychiatrist, Dr. Marcella Spencer. Addicted was the first. After Nervous, Vengeance, Torn, and Patience will come. Dr. Spencer will become the main character in one, but I won’t reveal which one just yet. You will have to wait and see.
I hope you enjoy reading Nervous as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Peace, Blessings, and Love,
Zane
“Life has never been what I expected. I only hope that one day I can live a normal one.”
—Jonquinette
“Life is a bitch and then you die. What more do you want, heifer?”
—Jude
nervous
nervous*
For as long as I could remember, I had always been nervous. Nervous about school. Nervous about friends. Nervous about relationships with men. Even nervous about talking to my own mother. I don’t know whether it was something deep-rooted inside of me from an early childhood experience or whether it was something that was just meant to be.
I lived in my own little world by the time I was twenty-two years old. I was fresh out of college and working as a project coordinator for a nonprofit organization in Philadelphia. I selected that job because I wo
uldn’t have to deal with too many people on a daily basis. I only had face-to-face dealings with a few of the people from the office, mostly women, and I was very thankful for that. My daily routine consisted of going to work, stopping off at a carry-out on the way home to pick up dinner, and then retiring to my cozy but cramped one bedroom apartment for the rest of the night.
When it came to dealing with a man on an intellectual level, any man, my palms would get sweaty and my knees would tremble a little. I am not sure how noticeable it was to anybody else, but I was painfully aware of it.
I had managed to make it all the way through my high school and college years without a single boyfriend. But I was not a virgin by far. The weekends were her time. They were the times that SHE came out into the light. SHE was my wild side, the one who craved to be fucked. SHE was one who felt conversation was never needed, nor were games, because SHE knew within five minutes after SHE laid eyes on a man whether SHE wanted to fuck him or not.
SHE first appeared back in my freshman year of college. At that time, I would spend lonely nights in my dorm room masturbating myself to sleep by playing with my nipples and rubbing a sheet or towel between my legs. I imagined having wild, passionate sex with men that had no faces until I climaxed and the sheet or towel was soaking wet with my nectar.
I have always been a pretty girl, above average even, I would say. It was never a question of whether I thought I looked good enough to get a man. I was just too nervous to talk to the men who pursued me. They came in all shapes and sizes and from all walks of life. Most were extremely nice and attractive, but I wanted to wait and give my virginity to the man I would ultimately marry. SHE, though, could not wait.
One cold winter night of my freshman year, I was studying in the university library when SHE saw him. He was average height, about five-nine and not what one would call foine, yet attractive. It was his eyes that made him desirable. His eyes seemed to have a passion burning inside of them. SHE sat there, at a table across the room from where he was standing at a bookcase flipping through some pages. SHE could feel her panties becoming damp from the growing desire to feel him inside of her. SHE crossed her legs and moved them back and forth, creating a light friction against her vagina and making her desire even more intense. SHE didn’t realize that SHE was simultaneously sucking on the eraser of her pencil and staring at him, until SHE felt him staring back. SHE moved her eyes up from where they had locked on the bulge of his pants to his face and for what seemed like an endless moment, their eyes met. He broke the stare and smiled at her. It was then that SHE noticed he had the softest-looking lips. SHE yearned to draw the bottom one into her mouth and suck on it.
SHE looked back down at the economics books SHE was studying for a brief moment, contemplating her next move. When SHE looked up, he was gone. SHE panicked, quickly scanning the library, until SHE noticed him getting into the elevator. He looked at her and smiled as the doors were closing. Something within her exploded and SHE knew what had to be done. SHE jumped up from the table, leaving her books, coat and purse and ran out the exit door, going down the steps two at a time, hoping to catch up to him before the elevator reached the ground floor.
When SHE reached ground level, it was too late. The elevator was empty and he was gone. SHE went out the front door of the library into the cold, brisk, winter air hoping to catch a glimpse of his red ski jacket. But, SHE saw nothing. As SHE turned around to go back into the library and retrieve her things, with disappointment in her heart, SHE looked up and he was standing there. In fact, SHE bumped right into his chest and could feel her heart pounding in her own as he looked deep into her eyes, up close and personal for the first time.
He opened his mouth to say something, probably to ask her name, but SHE put her finger over his lips. SHE was unsure why she did this, but SHE knew that talking would only ruin the moment. Maybe SHE feared that I would rejoin the situation, bringing with me all my shattered nerves at the thought of a mere conversation with a man. Who knows?
SHE smiled at him, took him by the hand and pulled him back inside the library with her. SHE pushed the button for the elevator. When they got on, instead of pushing the button for the floor where her belongings were, SHE pressed the button for the basement where all the stacks were located. SHE knew it would basically be deserted and dark down there. It was the perfect place for what SHE had in mind.
When the elevator began to descend, SHE took his hand and placed it between her legs. SHE had on a black skirt with a white bodysuit and silk panties underneath. SHE could feel his fingers push the crotch of her bodysuit and panties aside and explore her wetness. He brought his face closer to hers and was about to explore her mouth with his tongue when they reached the basement level and the doors opened.
Just as SHE imagined, the stacks were deserted. He left his backpack right beside the then closed elevator, picked her up and wrapped her legs around his back. He carried her to the rear of the stacks where there were a few scattered desks. He sat her down on top of one of them.
Their clothes came off quickly, both of them ripping at the other’s until they were completely naked in the dimly lit room. SHE took one of her fingers and rubbed it against her clit. Then she removed it and put it into his mouth, letting him savor her juice. SHE rubbed the finger against her clit again; this time she brought it to her own mouth to suck the juice off her fingers. Then they began to kiss, both savoring her sweetness at the same time.