Nothing to Lose - Cover

Nothing to Lose

Copyright© 2018 by Its a Kilt, Not a Skirt

Chapter 2

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Olivia doesn't feel like she has anyone in the world anymore. She's still young, yet life seems stagnant...until a chance encounter with a young man she used to babysit when she was a teenager opens her eyes again. Turns out he's all grown up now, and can teach her something about the world and love.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cream Pie   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Safe Sex   Babysitter   Slow  

Just as she began scrubbing the suds into her hair, the telephone in the hall outside Olivia’s apartment began to ring. It rang and rang, and then finally was picked up by a neighbour. Moments later, there was a loud and insistent banging at her front door.

‘Olivia, it’s for you!’ Her loudmouth neighbour bellowed. ‘Are you in? Come out, it’s for you!’

Cessie. It had to be Cessie.

‘Just a moment!’ She called desperately. ‘I’m in the bath! Just let me get my dressing gown. I’ll just be a minute.’

‘I’ll leave the phone for you,’ her neighbour yelled back, and Olivia quickly doused her hair with water before wringing it and hastily flitting around her apartment buck naked in a desperate attempt to locate slippers and dressing gown. After was seemed like ages she found them and wrapped herself up, leaving her front door open in her hurry to get to the telephone.

‘Hello?’ She said breathlessly into the receiver, cradling the device to her ear.

‘Olive,’ came Frances’ warm voice. ‘Sorry to disturb you. This doesn’t seem like a good time.’

‘No, no, it’s okay,’ she said quickly. ‘I hope you didn’t have to wait too long; I was in the bath--I just needed to put something on before coming out to take the call.’

He laughed. ‘No, I didn’t wait all that long.’

‘Oh, good.’

‘Listen, are you free tomorrow at noon? Surely you don’t have to work Fridays, do you?’

‘Yes, I do,’ she said, disappointed.

‘That’s a shame,’ Frances said, his voice mirroring her own feelings. ‘And I have tomorrow off from classes, too. It IS nearly June. Soon there’ll be hols.’

‘I suppose you’ll be going home to Québèc for those,’ Olivia said sadly.

‘Oh, no,’ Frances said. ‘I won’t. I live here now. I might go for a visit a time or two, but this is my home now.’

‘I could take my lunch break with you tomorrow,’ Olivia suggested, hopefully.

‘Yes, that’s something,’ Frances agreed thoughtfully. ‘I had just hoped to spend a little more time with you all in one chunk.’

‘Life gets in the way, sometimes,’ Olivia said, repeating one of her mother’s favourite sayings. Frances laughed.

‘I suppose it does. I’ll see you for lunch, then?’

‘Yes. But where do I have to meet you?’

‘Nowhere. I’ll come to the library and pick you up. We’ll head out together.’

‘Okay.’ The smile couldn’t seem to get off her face. ‘That sounds great, Cessie. Goodnight, then. See you tomorrow.’

‘Sure thing. Goodnight, Olive.’

It had been two days since their chance encounter at the library, and now he had called, just as she’d waited for. Olivia felt a child-like sort of a delight fill her at the whole thing. She was way too excited for this, but the truth was, she hadn’t felt as happy as she was now for a long time.


That morning on her way to work, the day was softly breezy, hinting at a pleasant, milder day than the scorchers they’d been getting recently. Olivia got off the bus where she usually did and walked the few remaining blocks to the library where she worked.

Last night she’d had an unexpected dream--one she was embarrassed about. She hadn’t had such a graphic dream about someone since her early high school days, and none of that ever played out either.

In her dream, she had been the girl in the drawing, the one with the young man in it, and Cessie was the man. They started right where the drawing started: he slid into her thickly, nipping at the back of her neck, and she shuddered at his touch.

That was another thing she hadn’t had since high school: sex. It had been too busy, since then, to really have a chance to think about a partner, or love, or the body’s physical needs. They could be pushed away from mind so easily in times of crisis, deemed comparably unimportant. In her past, when she had had sex, it was to experience it, and not because she was in love.

Only a few weeks after graduation, her dad died, and there had been no warning. Her mum, who was already ill on and off, began to relapse, and her brother closed himself off from the world. Her father’s will was left to Olivia to deal with, and the responsibilities following so soon after intense grief caused the weight of her burden to increase.

Only a few months after the will had been sorted out, (while Olivia had been attending all the night classes she could to catch up on her Bachelor’s in her hometown) her mum lost touch and had to be either nursed, or put in a home.

Her brother had already disappeared off to God knows where with no way to contact him, and so that left Olivia, the responsible one, to sort out what to do. She stayed for five years, until her mum’s death, and then moved here.

Sometimes, life gets in the way.

Olivia let the peace of the early morning wash over her, letting all her guilt and sadness wash away for just a moment.

She didn’t have to think about any of this today. Today, she could file books, and think about Cessie and how nice it was to see him. She would think about him ... but she wouldn’t think about her dream.


The day seemed to go quickly. Olivia was working hard and very busy--the library was packed this morning--and it made time go by faster. She could hardly believe it when a glance at her watch revealed it to be quarter past eleven. Only forty-five minutes to go!

However, her agony of waiting was somewhat abated when Frances arrived early. She was shelving again, and humming, when he tapped her on the shoulder. Turning, she saw him and her face burst into smiles.

‘Hi!’ She checked her watch and looked up at him quizzically. ‘You’re early. I don’t get off until noon.’

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Yes, I know. However, I thought I might catch up on some studying at the same time. Would you perhaps assist me, Lady Meminger?’

Olivia laughed as he took her hand and bowed gallantly over it, kissing it. It was just like he used to do when they were in choir.

‘Of course.’ She stepped down from the step ladder and brushed her hands off on her skirt. ‘Do you need me to bring you a shrubbery?’

This time it was his turn to laugh. It was a Monty Python joke, from ‘The Holy Grail,’ a mutual favourite.

‘I’m playing the gallant today, not a knight who says ni,’ he said. ‘Could you direct me to the wildlife section, Olive?’

‘Sure.’ She pointed. ‘Just back there--can’t miss it. I have to get back to work now, Cessie. I’ll come find you when lunch starts.’

He nodded and started off.

Some things haven’t changed, she thought to herself with a little smile, as she finished with her cart.


At noon she went to the bathroom quickly before emerging to go seek Frances. He was smack in the middle of the wildlife section, at a table, reading intently.

‘Cessie.’ She sat down across from him, pulling a chair out and leaning her head on a hand. ‘I’m all free now--for an hour, that is.’

Frances looked up from his book at her. ‘Good. Ready to go?’

‘Sure.’

They emerged from the library into the cool day, not speaking yet, and just ambled along for a moment or two before Olivia spoke.

‘So, where are we going, Mr Mystery?’

‘Just a little café,’ he said. ‘Not much farther than this.’

‘Maybe I know it.’

‘Maybe. Did you have a good morning?’

‘Yes. It was jam-packed, though. Very busy this morning. Do you think it’s because your school’s out today?’

‘Probably. I saw a lot of people I know there today.’

‘Why did you decide to study here?’ She asked curiously, turning to face him more as they walked. ‘I’m sure there are plenty of excellent schools in Québèc.’

‘There are,’ he said, ‘but this is where my father went. Well, not exactly. He went to school in Ontario, but the school he went to doesn’t offer my program, so I had to forgo that bit and take a hit for the team, so to speak.’

‘Oh,’ Olivia said. ‘It’s too bad you couldn’t follow in his steps. Besides, Ontario is practically kitty-corner to Québèc.’

‘Right,’ Frances agreed. ‘I can go home whenever I need to.’

‘How are your brothers?’ she asked eagerly. There had been three Beauclair boys, and Frances was the middle child, caught in the ever-present tug of war between eldest and youngest.

‘Oh, fine. Willy is just finishing high-school now, and Jack is married,’ Frances said, with a wry smile.

‘He’s married?’ Olivia repeated, not expecting it. ‘Already?’

‘Yep. He found his wife during high school. They were planning to get married anyway at some point, but life got in the way... ‘ Frances gave a little smile and one of those French shrugs. ‘They have a daughter. She’s three now. They’re happy.’

‘Wow,’ Olivia breathed. ‘I feel so behind.’ Then she blushed, realizing what she’d said. ‘Oh, sorry. Do you have any photos of her?’ She said quickly, before he could turn the questions on her.

‘Yes. Just a mo.’ He dug around for his wallet and then opened it, flipping through the plastic protective sheaths for photographs. One photo whizzed by she thought she recognized.

‘Who’s that?’ She started to say, but he was already past it, and handing her the wallet open to a photo of a little dark-haired girl grinning at the camera.

‘She’s très mignon,’ Olivia said appreciatively. ‘Very cute. I can see Jack in her face.’

‘I can, too,’ Frances said, taking the wallet back when she offered it and studying the photo for a moment before flipping through to find another one. ‘Her name’s Marie-Claire.’

He handed her the wallet again, watching her face as recognition swept through her.

‘That’s the year we went to Provincials!’ She exclaimed, glancing back at him. ‘Was it that important to you?’

He smiled. ‘Yes, and to my mum too. She has a large copy of this photo framed in her bedroom.’

Olivia looked at the photo for another moment. ‘There you are,’ she said, pointing out the short boy standing at her side in the photo. Everyone’s arms were around each other.

‘It seems like it was yesterday,’ she sighed. ‘And look at you now. A foot taller than me and built like a brick shithouse!’

She clapped her hand over her mouth when she realized this last statement had actually been voiced. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Cessie!’

Frances, however, was laughing. ‘It’s okay. We’re both adults; you can curse and not offend me. I take that as a compliment.’

‘Well, it is,’ she said, passing him the wallet back. ‘You’ve changed a lot.’

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