Penny
Copyright© 2019 by Kaffir
Chapter 1
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A man in a hurry barges into a young woman who is concussed. He notices an old but large bruise on her cheek. He follows her to A&E who confirm that she has been brutalised. The man and his daughter offer to provide food and lodging. Things do not go to plan.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Slow
Peter Williams was in a hurry. His dental appointment had been forty minutes late and his parking ticket would expire in less than five minutes. Pitsbury traffic wardens were known for their quickness off the mark for people who ran over time. St Mary’s Street was a nightmare as usual. It was part of the city’s inner one way circuit and was always busy. Jay-walking was hazardous and the narrow pavements were nearly always crowded with slow moving, over-weight people. Two such were moving obliviously towards him. He glanced round them and reckoned there was a sufficient gap in the traffic to nip round them only to knock over a tiny little woman. The back of her head hit the pavement with a crack, knocking her out.
Peter did not hesitate and rang for an ambulance.
People had begun to gather. Peter knelt beside the woman. There was nothing he could do except keep people away from her. A young woman pushed her way through the gathering crowd.
“I’m a nurse,” she said. “Let me have a look at her.”
She knelt beside the woman and felt her forehead. Other than that she did not touch her.
“Out cold!” she said. “Have you called an ambulance?”
Peter nodded. “I was just about to call the police to clear the traffic so that it can get to her.”
“Do that. She’s got a big bruise on her cheek too but it’s an old one. A day or so I’d say.”
Peter did not need to ring the police as a constable arrived at that moment, quickly took in the situation and radioed for help to clear the traffic. He moved up to the end of the street to prevent any more entering it.
“Looks like one of the homeless,” observed the nurse. “Twenty-four hours in hospital and some decent food will help her a bit.”
“Does the hospital do anything about the homeless?” Peter asked.
“Yes. They notify the St Alban’s Trust but there’s not a lot they can do. There are so many and they give priority to the locals. This woman may be local and get lucky.”
“Hmm!” said Peter thoughtfully. “Oh shit! Er, sorry! I must ring the office.”
The nurse smiled at him.
He did so, confirmed that he had no appointments for that afternoon and would let them know his movements. He was concerned for this tiny woman that he had knocked down. She was so small that she might be mistreated by other homeless, especially young toughs.
At last the ambulance arrived. Peter had heard its siren some while ago and sympathised with the crew who had to struggle through the traffic-infested, narrow streets of the medieval city.
He watched the woman loaded aboard, told the crew what had happened, thanked the nurse and gave a brief statement to the police. He went back to his car. Sure enough, he had got a ticket.
“I shall dispute this,” he thought and tucked it in his wallet.
He sat in his car in thoughtful silence for several minutes. He was responsible for the woman’s injury. The hospital would only keep her in until the effects of the concussion had worn off and then she would be out on the streets again unable to stand up for herself if young thugs found her. It seemed most unlikely that the charity would be able to do much about her. He had to take her in at least until she had found a job and somewhere to live. The fact that he would be providing accommodation and food would mean that the council would put her on the back burner as far as accommodation was concerned. He wondered about her background. If she was homeless there was no family to support her. He had to help her and if he was going to do that he had to go up to A&E at the hospital and find out what they were going to do for her. He did so.
The receptionist at A&E was non-committal. There was nothing that she could tell him until a doctor had examined the woman and made a prognosis. He sat and waited; for the best part of an hour.
The doctor who finally saw him wanted to know what his connection with the woman was.
“I was the one who knocked her down and feel responsible.”
“You don’t know about any family or friends?”
“No! I was in a hurry, barged into her and injured her. A nurse helped me look after her until the ambulance arrived and it was she who noticed the bruise on her cheek. Quite a bruise!”
“Yes. So why do you wish to see her?”
“First of all to apologise and then offer her accommodation for as long as she needs.”
“Why do you feel you need to do that?”
“I got the impression that she was homeless and, being so small might not be able to deal with a thug who wanted to take advantage of her. From what the nurse who joined me at the scene said about housing the homeless it’s not just the injury I’ve caused. I get the feeling she needs help. I can do that. I can house her and feed her while she looks for a job and,” he grinned lopsidedly, “I’ve got a twenty year-old daughter who can chaperone her.”
