Is Jack the Ripper alive today? Jessie is happy leading a hedonist lifestyle, with plenty of women to enjoy in or out of her bed. When Jessie's friend asks for help in finding her missing lover, Jessie is reluctant, however as increasing numbers of women go missing in the East End of London, she is forced into action. Jessie barely starts her investigation when she realises that she is being watched by a mysterious figure. With the help of her friends, and a ghostly visitation from her Aunty, Jessie learns that there is a connection with these recent disappearances, and the unsolved mystery of Jack the Ripper.
Jessie meets beautiful Rachel, who also wants to solve the mystery. However this new woman carries secrets of a mysterious Sisterhood who may be responsible for these disappearances. Both Jessie and Rachel find themselves hunted by members of this secret society, who want them silenced at any cost. Jessie has to trust her instincts in order to stop the bigger evil who threatens the lives of anyone who gets in their way.
Jessie receives help from unexpected sources, including a bounty-hunter, a horny librarian, a sex-starved police officer, and an army of prostitutes. These women enable Jessie to face the Sisterhood, and in doing so, she is also able to reveal the secret identity of the notorious Jack the Ripper!
“Spread them wider,” I snarled. I wasn’t actually angry; if power-play games were what it took to get Rachel off, then I was happy to oblige. I could play mean just as well as the next woman. “Didn’t you hear me? I said, spread your legs wider, bitch,” I snapped. Rachel bit her lip, drew her knees up, and widened her legs. I slapped her thighs, first the left and then the right; she quivered like she was already close to coming.
I lifted the bottle of lube, squirting a ribbon of the thick liquid into my right hand. I squished the viscous goo until it coated my fingers with a generous layer. “I’ve got a dare of my own,” I growled. “I dare you to take me in all the way without crying for your mother.” Rachel gave me a sharp look, but she said nothing. My index finger slid over her clit, tapping lightly. I circled her labia, and then plunged inside. Rachel groaned, moving her arse up and down. I pumped slowly, making her whine. This time when I bent my head to hers, she kissed me with no teeth involved. We were connected tongue to mouth, finger to crotch. We danced together on the bed, though no music played, save the Sonny and Cher tune that circled my brain. I reluctantly pulled away from Rachel’s lovely mouth, but my sticky fingers remained buried in her. My middle finger joined the first, moving in shallow little thrusts inside Rachel’s slippery pussy. When my ring finger joined the others, Rachel’s skin was covered in goose bumps. She humped my hand with desperation.
“Please,” she whimpered. I looked up at her, halting my movements. “Please, more,” she whispered. My little finger slipped inside. I added a squirt of more lube; the obscene sound of the bottle just added to the atmosphere of depravity. Shove twist, pull. Shove, twist, push. My thumb made the circuit complete. Rachel shuddered, making a primal noise low in her throat. She arched off the bed, sucking me inside her with no effort on my part at all. I was in up to my wrists, caught inside her hot pulsing pussy. Rachel’s body was tense. Her small nipples had magically grown twice their size. I watched hypnotised as her modest breasts bobbed up and down. Her clitoris stood to attention as I worked; a sweet red beacon that throbbed inches from my lips. I pulled back a little, and then I carefully pushed forward. Rachel wailed like a banshee. I found my rhythm as the different sounds played out; the squelch of my hand, the cry of pleasure. It was bliss. Rachel bore down, pushing harder against me. Nonsensical words fell from her mouth, “Please, oh, please, oh no, oh yes!”
My knuckles hit the bump of her g-spot as I plunged inside. Rachel’s eyes flickered open and shut. I felt a clamping sensation around my hand; the solid hold that always took my breath away whenever it happened. Just like the song, she really did have me. I was torn from my thoughts as Rachel squirted a thin jet of come on to the bed; that was a rarity in my experience, but I was an equal opportunities slut. Wet or dry, everyone was welcome.