OK, I'm not really sure why I'm writing this, I don't think I'm feeling guilty but that could be one explanation for this missive. The other is that I want to pass on a good idea that worked out very well for me and I don't see any point in keeping the idea secret. I don't know which is the closest to the truth, and really I don't care. You, gentle reader can make up your own mind.
This story really started one Friday night at the beginning of spring. I had been out for the evening, well that was the original idea, with a young lady. Unfortunately it had turned into a disaster. The silly bitch had been too impatient to get at my money and had blown the whole night I had planned for us.
Just to help you understand where I'm coming from I'll give you a little background on myself. I'm in my early forties, and a little overweight but I have a healthy bank balance brought about by hard work and a little bit of luck. The luck being that I got out of the dot com business before the bubble burst.
Anyway, back to that spring evening. I'd pissed the money grabbing bitch off early and was making my way back to my Bimmer in a pretty foul mood. It was still early and most of the shops where still open, their bright lights depressing me as I strode through the city centre, which was still a chilly place at this time of night.
My personnel misery was rudely interrupted by a grubby hand being thrust under my nose and a whiny voice bleating, "Got any spare change, mister?" Normally in these situations I just brush past, I might be a bit paranoid but I'd worked hard to get my money and I didn't see why I should give it away for nothing. This time, for some reason, I looked at the owner of the hand, thinking to give some young sponger a hard time about being lazy.
The first thing I noticed was that it was a female and she wasn't that young, she had long, dark, straggly hair, pushed back behind her ears. Her face had that worn, dirty, lined look that being out in the wet and cold burdens a person with. Her clothing was a dark blue, ragged tracksuit that looked a little too large for the spare frame it covered. She looked to be in her mid thirties, but that really was just a wild arsed guess on my part.
The hand that wasn't thrust out in front of me was clutching a tatty old duffel bag that I guessed carried her belongings. The most striking feature in an otherwise weather worn face where the green eyes, they were still bright, almost sparkling, undefeated despite her current condition.
"And what would you want my change for?" I challenged, uncharacteristically for me.
"A coffee, sir, on this cold night." She said, trying to sound pitiful.
"Bullshit," I responded. My mind started weighing the options, what would it be, drugs or booze where the obvious choices. Booze, I decided. "You'll just go and get a beer and that'll last you thirty seconds."
She started to look a little angry, "So what if I do, what do you care?" She tried to straighten up, "A little bit of change isn't going to bankrupt you is it?" Her tone no longer weak and bleating.
I smirked at her honest answer, "No it wouldn't bankrupt me, but I'd get nothing for it either." I was about to walk away when a stupid idea hit me. I looked the woman up and down and actually smiled at her.
"I'll tell you what, you show me your tits, here and now, and I'll buy you a six pack, what do you say to that?"
She looked like a rabbit caught in a couple of spotlights, those green eyes grew incredibly round and her head shook from side to side. Whether she was saying no or looking around the street to see who was there was debatable.
I took a look around. I was on one of the side roads off the main thoroughfare. There was one of those cheap booze places on the corner where the street met the main road and close to the junction were a couple of the small shops that were still open. About half a dozen other people were walking along the street we were on, none of them closer than thirty yards.
"Well?" I pushed.
She still hadn't said anything, her mouth was opening and closing, a bit like a beached fish, inarticulate noise were slipping past her lips.
"No, Oh well you had your chance." I turned to leave, before I'd taken a couple of paces she called out.
"Wait, please wait." I looked back over my shoulder.
"Here, you mean I have to get them out here, now?"
"Yes, that's right, strip completely to the waist, right here, right now and I will go to that booze place and buy you a six pack. Anything else and I walk away."
I looked at her expectantly. Would she?
Her free hand was fiddling with zip that held her tracksuit top closed, the other hand, still holding her duffel, was swinging at her side. She cocked her head to one side, obviously appraising me. You could see her thinking, 'how much to show, will he cough up if I do, could I get away with less?'
Our little corner of peace and quiet was broken by the sound of her duffel hitting the pavement between her legs. She grasped the tag on the zip and quickly pulled it down. I caught a glance of a grey coloured top before it vanished from sight as her arms twisted around pulling it over her head.
Keeping the top in one hand she grasped the front of her bra, which I could now see had once been white, with the other hand and pulled it over her head without unfastening it exactly as she had done with the top.
She stood before me, in the middle of the street, her hands by her side, one holding her top the other her bra. Her little tits were topped by small, stiff nipples which she kept pointed straight at me.
She tried to give a little jiggle but not a lot happened, "Happy now?"
I smiled mostly with surprise. I hadn't really expected her to do it.
"Do I get my booze?"
I nodded my head, and set off back down the street, walking past her. I may be a bit of a bastard at times but I will always keep my part of any agreement I make. By the time I came out of the off licence she had her tracksuit top back on.
Still smiling I handed her a 6 pack of lager, "I look forward to seeing you again, " I said with a leer. Without a word she grabbed the six pack from me, twisted around and forced the six cans into her duffel before turning and running away from me.
Though surprised at her abrupt departure I continued my journey home, smiling and a lot less depressed than I had been.
So here I was wandering the city streets in the early evening, staring at the various dropouts and bums and that littered the streets. I'll admit now that I was curious about the little bit of stuff I'd had some fun with last week.
Various thoughts kept going through my head, not all of the charitable. Was she all right? How far would she go? Was she clean? And a million similar ideas. That was the reason for my evening stroll on the darkside of city life, a mix of curiosity and dark fantasies.
It was the duffel bag that lead me to her, though I hadn't consciously remembered it, seeing it triggered a buried memory. On the bottom had been a picture of a fish in a slightly darker blue than the rest of the bag. There, resting on a bench by the bus stop was that same bag.
I made my way over, almost sneaking up on my intended victim. As I stepped in front of her she jumped and started looking for a way to escape, it was only after she saw she was effectively trapped that she even looked to see who I was.
When she looked straight at me it was I who got a shock. She'd been beaten up, it was obvious from the discoloration around one eye and the healing split on her lower lip.
"What the hell happened to you?" I burst out before she had a chance to say anything some of my shock no doubt showing through.
Her breathing slowed as she realised I wasn't attacking her, then I noticed recognition in her eyes.
"Oh, it's you." She said. "Well I didn't get to drink the booze you got me. A couple of blokes took it from me." Her hand came up and touched her lip, "and they wouldn't take no for an answer."
"Tough, and don't tell me there was nobody to report it too."
"What do you think, the pigs are more likely to give any of us a kicking than help us, even if we're in the right."
Now that I could understand. The police might be a fine upstanding body but it was your average citizen that paid their wages, not layabouts who didn't have jobs.
"So, do you want somewhere to stay?" I asked surprising myself.
She looked me up and down as though trying to fathom my intentions, I reacted badly to her inspection. "God No!" I exclaimed, "I've got a shed in the back garden you can use for a couple of days, nothing else."
What I didn't tell her was that my shed as I'd called it, was actually a three roomed summer house made of twenty five millimetre seasoned pine. It was triple insulated and had a log burning stove to keep it warm. As well as full plumbing and power to it. I'd actually stayed in it for the odd evening when I'd had to much to drink and couldn't be bothered to go back to the main house.
I glanced about before looking down at her and saw that she was trying to spot the catch. So I'd give her a catch, hopefully I thought, smiling internally, one she'd go along with.
"If you want some booze" I paused, "I'll get you the same as last time." Another pause, "All you have to do is ride home in my car, topless."
She swallowed, her Adams apple bobbing noticeably as she did so. "Topless, you mean like I was when you were staring at my tits?"
"That's right, nothing on above the waist from when you get in the car to when you get out."
.... There is more of this story ...