Nathan and Iris
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Oral Sex, Slow,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Nathan is in his mid-twenties and is a free spirit who enjoys 80's pop music and assuming Goth dress. One day on a light rail train he witnesses a woman and her littler girl become separated. He steps in to help, only to be mistaken for a child abductor. This sets in motion a series of events in which Nathan finds himself more and more deeply involved with Iris, the child's single mother. Can a non-conforming twenty-something find happiness in the company of a middle-aged woman?
Nathan sat in a TransMet light rail coach as it worked its underground route. Rider volume was light due to it being mid-morning on a spring Saturday. The train stopped at a station and a woman and her little girl boarded and sat across from him.
He regarded the woman. She appeared to be in her early-to-middle thirties, with a round face and shoulder-length brunette hair. Her daughter looked to be about eight. He caught the girl staring at him and flashed a smile.
"Excuse me," the girl said nervously. "Are you a vampire?"
Nathan was dressed in black. Over black shirt and black twill pants he wore a black frock coat. His hair was cut short, but with bangs trimmed to come to a point on his forehead. He wore a black bowler hat and in his pierced, left earlobe he had a bone stud carved in the shape of a skull. He had gold-tone, wire-frame glasses with small, circular lenses and across his lap rested a silver knobbed walking stick.
"Katie!" her mother hissed.
He chortled. "No, I am not a vampire. You know -- vampires can't be out in the sunlight."
"There isn't any sunlight down here," the girl replied.
"You are right -- there isn't." Nathan glanced at her mother. "She's a smart girl. What is she, eight?"
"Eight going on eighteen," the woman replied.
The train stopped at another station and exchanged passengers. Nathan began playing a little game with the girl, trying to catch her staring at him. Then, aware that his stop was next he picked up his stick, and stood, holding onto the overhead rail.
"This is our stop," the woman said to the girl. "Let's stand by the door. Follow me and stay close by."
Several passengers lined up at the door. Nathan stood behind the woman and the girl. The train lurched through the tunnel, approached the platform and stopped. The doors opened and the passengers began to exit the car. An elderly man at the front of the line had some difficulty negotiating the exit. Those behind him filed out once he was clear of the doorway.
The brunette woman stepped onto the platform, her daughter following. Before the girl could step out, the doors began to close. "Hey!" she shouted.
Nathan reached over her head with his stick and wedged it between the doors in an attempt to force them open. Through the window he could see the girl's mother's frantic face. "Katie!" she shouted. The train began to move. Nathan pounded the emergency stop button to no avail.
"Mommy!" the girl wailed.
"It's all right," Nathan said. "The next stop is close by. We'll find a transit cop and tell him what happened. I'm sure your mom is looking for one right now. You're name is Katie?"
"Yes..." she said sniffling.
"I'm Nathan. Let's get ready. We have to get off this train."
The train stopped at the next platform and the doors opened. Putting his palm against the small of the girl's back he whisked her out of the car as soon as the doors opened. "Let's find a transit officer," he said. Taking Katie's hand he headed toward the turnstiles. He spotted a transit cop. "This way, Katie."
He heard footsteps approaching at a run. "There he is, officer," he heard a woman's voice call out.
He turned and saw another transit cop with his Taser in his hand. "Freeze!"
"He tried to abduct her," the woman said.
"I did not," Nathan protested. "This girl got separated from her mother. I was trying to help."
The woman put her arms around Katie. "It's all right, sweetie. You're safe, now."
"Against the column," the officer said. "Spread 'em." The cop grasped Nathan's wrists, pulled them back and snapped handcuffs on them. "Come along."
He could hear Katie's wailing as the officer led him outside the station and pushed him into the back seat of a squad car.
The squad car drove to Police Headquarters. Nathan was let to a detention area. An officer took his fingerprints and photograph. "You're making a mistake," he protested. "I was trying to help."
"Tell it to the captain," the officer said and led Nathan to a small room. "Strip down."
Nathan stripped to his underwear. The officer handed him an orange jumpsuit and slip-on shoes. "Don't I get one phone call?" he asked.
"Sign for your personals and we'll get you your phone call."
The officer led him to a booth with a wall phone. Nathan punched in a number. It rang and he heard a pause. He hung up the phone before the call could transfer to voicemail. "No answer -- can I try again, later?"
"Sure, pal." The officer led him into a cell and closed the door. Nathan sat on a bench, rested his elbows on his knees and planted his face in his palms.
Another officer opened the cell door. "North?"
"Captain wants to see you."
Nathan was led to an interview room. A plain-clothes officer sat across from him. He placed a document in front of him. "Is this your signature?"
"Yes," Nathan replied.
"This acknowledges you've heard your Miranda rights."
"This is all a big mistake," Nathan replied. "The little girl got separated from her mother and I was trying to help..."
"This is a witness statement that says you were seen dragging the little girl off the train."
"I didn't want her stuck on it. The door on that car must be defective." He sighed. "Do you know if they were reunited?"
"The girl and her mother."
"That's Transit business. We're City Police."
"Look -- I'm single and live in a loft with another guy. Why would I want to abduct a little girl?"
"You tell me, pal."
"I'm not saying anything else until I see an attorney."
"Suit yourself. We're forwarding this to the D.A. We're recommending attempted child abduction. We'll let the D.A. give you a bail recommendation."
"Don't I get my one call?" Nathan asked.
"You didn't get a call?"
"I called but no answer. He said I could try again."
A uniformed officer escorted Nathan from the interview room. "Make sure he gets his call," the captain said.
Nathan found himself back at the telephone booth. He punched in the number and again hung up before it could transfer. "Still no answer."
"We'll try later."
Nathan looked at the walls of the cell. He sat and ground his teeth. An officer opened the door. "Now what?" he asked.
"You're being sprung. Come get your street clothes."
"Yeah ... It seems the lady and the little girl came in and corroborated your story. Seems our witness is some busybody who wasn't even on the train." He led Nathan to a changing room. Slipping out of the jumpsuit Nathan pulled on his own clothes. He pocketed his keys, wallet and cell phone. Then he picked up his hat and walking stick.
"This way," the officer said and led him to a waiting room.
"That's it?" Nathan said. "Just out the door -- no apology, no nothing?"
"Have a better one, pal."
Nathan headed for the street. The woman from the train and her little girl approached him. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said. "Katie told me what happened and we've been frantic to get it straightened out. This whole thing has ruined our Saturday."
"Yeah? Mine, too." He regarded her. "I'm sorry -- it wasn't your fault."
"Can you give me your name and number? I have a cousin who's an attorney. I think you might have a case. I'll pass along your information and see what she thinks."
Nathan opened his wallet and handed her a business card. She reviewed it. "Nathan North ... Network Engineer." She held out her hand. "I'm Iris Longfield and this is Katie."
"We've met, haven't we, Katie?" Nathan replied.
"I have my car outside. Can I give you a lift anywhere?"
"No thanks. I'm just going back to my apartment and try to forget today ever happened."
Nathan unlocked his apartment and stepped in. Sitting on a worn sofa was a pudgy young man with an unkempt beard wearing jeans and a tee shirt, watching the TV. "Hi Larry. Where were you all day? I tried to call."
"My cell went a-roaming last night and the battery's dead. It's been on the charger all day. Why? What did you want?"
"It's moot, now." Nathan removed his hat and coat and hung them on a coat tree by the door. He opened the refrigerator and removed a half-empty carton from a Chinese restaurant. Popping it into a microwave oven he pressed the keys to warm it up.
Abduction or good Samaritan? came an announcer's voice from the television. This and more after these messages.
Nathan carried the warmed container to the sofa and dug into it with a fork. "Hey!" said his roommate. "HEY!" Larry jabbed him with his elbow.
"Look at this! That looks like you, man!" Nathan regarded the news broadcast and saw video of the TransMet station. "Who else wears that getup?" Next came a slide of his mug shots. "It is you, man! They busted you?"
"I just want to forget the whole thing."
He watched a reporter interviewing Iris as she related the story, followed by a TransMet official explaining how the coach in question would be examined for malfunctions.
"Wow," Larry exclaimed. "As they say, no good deed goes unpunished."
Nathan tossed the empty container into the trash. He picked up his coat, hat and stick. "I'm going for a walk." He headed out the door.
Nathan walked from the TransMet station to an office building. With a magnetic pass card he opened the door. Down the corridor he unlocked another door and stepped into the technology lab. He hung his hat and coat and propped his walking stick against a corner in his cubicle. The message light on his desk telephone flashed.
He entered the pass code for his voicemail. You have fourteen new messages. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed and pressed keys to run through the voicemail messages. "I got calls from all the TV stations, the local NewsRadio station, the major networks -- all wanting interviews."
Larry poked his head over the cubicle wall. "This TransMet thing is going viral, man. This is your fifteen minutes of fame."
"If my fifteen minutes of fame is over this -- I don't want it." He pressed keys to delete the messages.
"Aren't you gonna call 'em back."
"No I'm not gonna call 'em back." He set down the handset. Then, he took his iPod from his pocket and docked it with an outboard speaker system. He pressed Play.
"If you're going to listen to that crappy music, turn it down," Larry called from the other side of the cubicle.
"Crappy? This is Queen -- Bohemian Rhapsody. It's a classic."
"Turn it down, Nathan." Nathan turned down the volume. "Why don't you use earphones?"
"'Cuz I hate earphones."
A slim, young woman with blond hair in a pageboy cut approached him. She was pushing a shopping basket. "Hello, Nathan," she said.
"You need to sign for this." She set a receipt before him.
Nathan grabbed a pen. He made two back-to-back capital Ns on the sheet and then scrawled 'orth' across them. "Here."
"Here." She handed him a box with overnight express labels. "I saw you on the news last night."
He sighed. "I think everyone saw me on the news last night."
"You know -- that goofy costume of yours probably didn't win you any points with the cops."
"Thank, you Erica, for that observation."
"What's in the box?"
Nathan pulled it open. "New router."
"See you around, Nathan." Erica pushed her cart out the door.
"Erica thinks you're hot," Larry said from his side of the wall.
"Is that a fact?"
"She also thinks you're weird."
"Who doesn't think I'm weird?"
"I don't think you're weird," Larry replied. "I think you got style ... a weird style. But weird style don't mean you're weird. I think Erica wants you to ask her out."
"You think so?"
"Yeah. But if I were you I'd lose the Goth stuff first."
"If a woman can't accept me for who I am, then I am not interested," Nathan retorted. "I'm not gonna change my style just to..."
"I was about to say, to appeal to some vapor-headed mail-room chick. And, since when are you the big expert in romance?
"It don't take an expert in romance to realize the product you're offering isn't selling."
"And the product you're offering is? When was the last time I came home to find a necktie on the doorknob, Larry? Oh, I forgot. You don't own a necktie."
"I'd just use one of yours."
"Yeah, right..." Nathan busied himself unwrapping the packaging on the router. "I think I'll go replace that flaky router with this new one ... then I gotta get the old one back to the vendor."
His phone rang. "Nathan North," he answered. "No, I am not interested in an interview. Goodbye." He hung up the phone.
"It's gonna be like this for the next few days," Larry observed. "Next thing, that video of you will be on the YouTube top ten."
"Great. Just fuckin' great..."
"You need to work this, man. You need to figure the angles. This is just like that Henry Louis Gates business. You could end up having a beer with the president."
"It isn't anything like the Henry Louis Gates business," Nathan retorted. "That was blown out of proportion because of the racial aspect."
"Those cops picked on you just because you were dressed weird. That old lady fingered you because you looked different. You were simply exercising your First Amendment right to freedom of expression and you got nailed for it. You weren't bothering anybody -- you were trying to do a good deed and you got nailed just because you don't fit the mold of a normal, upstanding citizen. If you had been wearing a polo and Dockers it wouldn't have happened."'
"Beer with the president, Nathan. Think on it."
"I gotta get this router swapped out..." As he picked up the router his phone rang again. Nathan let out an exasperated sigh and picked up the handset. "Nathan North."
Nathan? It's Iris. You remember, from the train?
"Iris ... Yes, how could I forget?"
I spoke to my cousin. She thinks definitely you have a case. She knows the city attorney and she thinks she can wrangle a settlement for you.
"I'm not interested in a settlement. What I really want is an apology."
A settlement is the sincerest form of apology, don't you think?
"I dunno -- maybe..."
I'm sure she can secure an apology for you, too.
"What I really want is to have the arrest record expunged. No telling what that might do to a background check down the road."
Maybe she can help with that, too. Is it okay if I give her your number?
He sighed. "Okay, Iris. Go ahead and give her my number."
There's something else. I'd really like to do something to make up for what happened.
"That's kind, Iris -- but it wasn't your fault."
I know. But you went out of your way to help a stranger. I appreciate what you did ... what you were trying to do. I want to show my appreciation.
"What did you have in mind?"
Well ... I'd love to have you come to dinner.
Yes ... Katie's been bugging me to make lasagna. My recipe makes more than we can use, so I only make it when we can invite company.
"Cut the recipe down."
It won't come out right. I've tried. What do you say? Feel free to bring a guest. Do you have a significant other?
"I have a roommate -- but you wouldn't want him in your place. He isn't housebroken."
"HEY!" he heard Larry call from the other side of the wall.
"But I'll accept your gracious invitation."
How about tomorrow night? Iris asked.
"Tomorrow night is fine. Where do you live?"
213 Elderberry Lane.
Nathan turned to his computer. He brought up a map and found the address. "I see it -- right off of Exchange Street. Isn't Exchange where they put that new streetcar line? The one where they run the historic trolleys?"
Yes indeed. Believe me it was a nuisance for a year and a half while they laid the tracks.
"I imagine -- some city supervisor's pet project. What time?"
Does six work for you?
"Six works. What can I bring?"
Please -- this is our treat.
"Okay -- six tomorrow. See you then, Iris." He hung up the phone.
"What was that about?" Larry asked.
"Oh ... That mom who got separated from her kid ... She wants me to come to dinner."
"To dinner? What's she like?"
"I didn't get a real good look at her ... at the time I was rather distracted." Nathan closed his eyes and attempted to recall a mental image. "I'd say thirty or thirty-one years old ... brunette to here." He held his hand shoulder-high. "Round face..."
"No, she struck me as being slim ... not rail-thin, but not one of the lard tubs we see all the time around here."
"Are we talking MILF territory?" Larry asked.
"She struck me as a very nice lady," Nathan replied. "I'm accepting this more to be gracious than anything. My idea of a date is not home-cooked lasagna with a family I've only recently met. Now ... I gotta get that router replaced."
He picked up the router and his phone rang. "Nathan North," he answered. "No I am not interested in appearing on your program."