Walking With Melissa - Cover

Walking With Melissa

by Cecilia Phourpleigh

Copyright© 2019 by Cecilia Phourpleigh

Romantic Sex Story: A physically damaged philanthropist and an emotionally damaged physical therapist find each other under strange circumstances in the mall.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/ft   Consensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   Military   Workplace   Incest   Cousins   Polygamy/Polyamory   Slow   .

I was in the Lindbergh Westfield Mall, minding my own business and shopping for a gift for my cousin Bobbi for her upcoming birthday. I wasn’t expecting any trouble out in the open, like the mall’s main concourse was, so it was quite unexpected when my front wheels wound up in a flowerbed and I almost tipped over.

“Out the way, crackuh mutha fuckah.”

“Sheeit. Gimpy muh fuckin’ road bump. Move out da way when we ‘round, hessay!”

There were three of them, and I’m not going to disparage anyone’s ethnicity, so suffice to say two of them were brown, but I was pretty sure it was the tall black one that helped me smell the roses. So, I dropped one of my ball bearings into my hand from the dispenser in my pocket and with careful aim, throwing with my ever so slight sidearm throw, very accurately put it into the back of his head. He wasn’t happy.

Now, if he had been wearing his hat backwards, like his brown skinned compadres, it probably wouldn’t have even hurt, but he was wearing it sideways. I just love that. In the movies, the gangbangers hold their guns sideways, too. I wonder how many of them get brass in their teeth. A discussion for later.

He wasn’t happy. As he came back toward me, a mall cop arrived, watching the entire scene and radioing for the real cops. There were generally a couple of them walking the mall. The city did that on purpose. As I watched the three musketeers approaching me, I didn’t even have to wonder why.

“What’chu do ta me, mutha fuckah. You think you can throw shit at Smiles and live through that shit. Naw, naw, mutha fuckah, I’m gonna ruin yo’ mufuckin’ dayee.” He reached for me and looked down the barrel of a 45 caliber Kimber. He had no idea how easy it would have been for me to pull the trigger right then.

“Back off, young man.” The black kid turned to see two of our city’s finest, the big one talking, and tapping a newfangled billy club into his hand.

Just then a young lady came over and told the police to move over, straightened the wheelchair, and pulled me backwards out of the flowerbed.

“Are you OK, sir? I saw that, and you could have been thrown out of that thing into that rose bush. That definitely would have hurt.”

I looked up at her and smiled. “You saw this?” She nodded. “Could you stay here for a bit, please?” She nodded again. I looked at the officer talking and told him I wanted to press charges under the hate crimes statutes, the handicapped protection laws, and the new gang violence protection laws that the city and our state had just passed.

“What, because a few kids were messing around? That’s a crock of crap, mister.” Problem. That was a younger, black officer, accompanying the big one, providing that input.

“Officer, you can spend the evening dusting off your resume. Tomorrow, you’re going to be asked to look for a new line of work. This one is certainly not your calling.”

“Was that a threat?” he asked putting his hands on his hips.

“Oh, God, no. I’m just a crippled old man at the mercy of some young kids having fun in the mall, right?”

He had the audacity to nod.

“That is not going to look good on the video monitor, Officer Temporary. Officer Billyclub, I do want to press charges, so if we can get to the nitty gritty?”

I’d seen the young lady walk over to where I hit Smiley, sorry, ‘Smiles’ with the steel ball. She looked around to where it had rolled, nonchalantly picked it up and put it in her pocket.

“Yes, sir. By all means. Tyrone, read those guys their rights, use nylon cuffs and pat them down. I’m right here if they try anything.” One started walking away, but the mall cop hurried to let him know he was being watched. Two more city policemen arrived and helped Tyrone out.

One of the new ones called back to Officer Belsher, it was Officer Billyclub, but by that time I had seen his name tag. “Sam, this one had a little Keltec three-eighty on him.” He had ‘Smiles’ cuffed, now in chrome steel cuffs and laid him belly down.

“Kids, huh, Officer Tyrone? Like I said, dust off your resume. You’re going to need it.” He looked back over at me and grimaced. I was no longer John Q. Public. I was now Officer Tyrone’s public enemy number one. I didn’t care. Not even a little bit.

Officer Belsher noticed as I put the Kimber away in its shoulder holster under my lightweight jacket. “Sir, can I see your permit?”

“No. I have one, but I don’t need it here, and you know it. He does, unless he’s 21 and has a clean record, and I’ll bet that’s two strikes. Run the serial number and you could probably strike him out, but with Officer Tyrone around, I doubt you will go to that trouble.” I used a whiny voice when I said “Officer Tyrone” then smiled. He frowned then followed me with a much weaker one. The young lady at my side giggled. She had a really cute giggle.

“How about an ID so I can start with the paperwork on Mr. Eldon ‘Smiles’ Bridges over there and his two yet to be identified buddies. By the way, we know the kid, and you are correct. That would be two for two. He’s in trouble. Officer Williams was out of line. I’ll admit that. Really bad time to do it, too, wasn’t it ... Oh, shit. Mr. Allen.”

“Yep.” I grinned up at him.

“Hey, Tyrone. He’s probably got a point about your resume. You just gave a ration of shit and tried to talk down to the mayor’s cousin and our boss’s nephew. You screwed up, young man. I figured it would happen, but not this soon, and not this badly. Oh well, partners are a nickel for six. They used to be a dime a dozen, but the police force is cutting back.” The young lady giggled.

“Belsher, come up with another one. I want to hear her giggle again.” She giggled and covered her face. “You have such a wonderful voice. Please stay until they get this cleared up. Is that OK?” She nodded, uncovered her face and smiled. Beautiful girl.

“Mr. Allen, we’ll need you at the station tomorrow morning, but I need a quick run down.”

I told him what happened and what was said. Then surprised him. “I’ll have a copy of the audio from the time my wheelchair was jostled and pushed sideways and then the video from there out as I turned to face the three amigos. I’m wearing a body camera. You might tell Officer Williams about that later. I don’t think he likes me right now.” The young lady giggled again. I turned and looked at her. She covered her face again but parted her hands at the bottom to show her mouth that she was smiling. “You’re cute. Would you join me for dinner down there at Ruby Tuesday’s when we get done here?” She nodded again. “Thanks.” She patted my shoulder. “Officer Belsher, you’re going to see me do something in the video that you aren’t going to like, so I’m going to tell you now and let the chips fall.” I turned to the young lady and held my hand out. She put the five eighths inch steel ball in my hand. “In an effort to get their attention, and let them know they acted inappropriately, I reached out and touched the one that pushed me. He has a knot on the back of his head about this size.” I showed him the ball. He looked at me with a frown. “Yes, you’ll find it on Mr. Smiles at Bridges if he admits I got the better of him. With a marble. We called them ‘steelies’ when I was a kid.” He shook his head and went over to talk with the others.

I looked up at the young lady holding my hand out. “Douglas Allen, damaged philanthropist.”

“Melissa Ashton, damaged physical therapist.”

“Shit, and I thought you might be a nice person, so cute, and with that beautiful giggle. Here I find out you work for ... Them.”

“Oh, you’ve had experience with the Pain and Torture Gang, have you, Mr. Allen?”

“Lots and lots and lots, Miss Ashton. I do hope it’s Miss?”

“It is, but I’d rather it be Melissa.”

“Then I’d like to be Doug, unless I ever see you at work and then I’d like to be ... In Nebraska. Anywhere but around your kind.” I smiled at her. “You’re pretty. I’ll bet you have someone telling you that every day, though, don’t you?”

“Not currently. Well before just now, no, not for some time. Uuht, here come the coppers.” We turned toward Officer Belsher as he walked toward us.

“Here’s my card and a case number. If you can check with the desk tomorrow, at your neighborhood substation, there’s the address, I’ll have one of the people there get your statement, and the evidence,” I nodded as he spoke, “and, ma’am, if you saw it, as I think I heard you say, it would be very appropriate for you to be there as well. Nineish tomorrow, for both of you, if that’s acceptable.”

“Please, let me check.” She called someone on her phone, explaining the situation then ended the call. “I’m good, they’ll move my one patient to another tech. Slow day in the dungeon tomorrow.” She giggled again. This girl was a beautiful little giggle puss. I could feel my heart flutter. Not a common occurrence at all.

Officer Belsher continued. “Thank you for standing your ground, Mr. Allen. Regardless of who you are, this was a bit more serious than my short-lived partner gave it credit for, and you hit the jackpot. Three of a kind. We know Bridges. The two with him are new to town. LA Crips, if you didn’t catch the artwork on the one’s neck and hand. In any case, if you file a complaint against my partner, spell my name right. S A M.” He laughed, and as the other three cops wrangled the three desperados out of the mall, he began to follow them. “You two have a good evening and we’ll be in touch, I’m sure,” he said over his shoulder.

“Well, that was fun, Melissa. Still want to join me for dinner?”

“Yes, Doug, I’d like that. What’s this I hear about you being kin to the local government officials?”

“Yes, my uncle is the Chief of Police. He’s been a cop since he got out of community college a hundred or so years ago. Forever, anyway. His daughter was recently elected mayor. She’s a hoot, my best friend, and a wonderful lady, on top of that.”

“May I ask the ultimate poopoo question?” I nodded. “Why is a handsome fellow such as yourself in a wheelchair? I hate to say it, but you look to be in perfect health.”

“You should never hate to tell anyone they look to be in perfect health, Melissa. It’s got to be a compliment unless they’re playing possum.”

“Bad choice of words. Sorry. Spinal?” I nodded. “Have anything looked at recently? Things are changing pretty quickly in medical technology these days.”

“Yes. I’m getting some experimental stuff done soon. Well, I should say I’m being evaluated for some more of it. I have a friend in the business. He wants to use me for a lab frog. You know, dissect it, name the parts, put them all back in and, well, hopefully not throw it in the trash in a plastic bag. He thinks he can have me walking in a year or two. I think he’s nuts, but he says he’s serious.”

“Who and where?”

“Calvin Thomas, Barnes-Jewish Medical Research Center. He’s a professor, research director, and plain old-fashioned neurosurgeon there at the Wash U side. He thinks with his filet knife, a pair of pliers, and some superglue, he can fix me. One thing he told me was that he’d make sure I was no worse off, and that I wouldn’t have to spend a dime for it. Nifty. The one person in the world that needs it AND can afford it, and it’s free. I hope they find someone else like me, if it works, and it’s still an experimental thing, that CAN’T afford it, and help them out. Of course, if it kills me, that wouldn’t be my hope. No.” I smiled up at her as we were moving toward Ruby Tuesday’s.

“And, Doug, you said friend. How do you know Doctor Thomas?” We were just being seated, at a table with only three chairs. I fit right in.

“Childhood friends. Elementary through High School. He went to Wash U for pre-Med, then Medical School, and I went off to the academy and into the service.”

“Oh, which academy?”

“Air Force. I graduated there and went on to flight school and a short career as a fighter jockey. I had a bit of an issue, and when they (I air quoted) ‘stopped the bleeding’ and sent me home, Calvin stepped up and volunteered a lot of time and effort into trying to make me whole again. He’s pretty close, actually.”

“How’s that?”

“I normally walk, with braces. The reason I’m in this chair today is that I’m having some severe pain in my feet, which is actually a Godsend, considering. I didn’t feel them for the first several months. Calvin’s having a field day with his superglue.”

“Doug, can I ask what happened?”

“I was shot down. A missile hit the fuselage right behind me and my lower back caught some secondary shrapnel. I understand it wasn’t pretty, in medical terms. The pictures were kind of ugly, too. I’ve been told I used to be quite photogenic, but now, the area just above my gluteus maximus is not a competitor for any photo contests. One nurse said, ‘night of the walking dead’, jokingly, but she said it was pretty bad, and I was extremely lucky to be alive. That was in Germany. I asked her out for dinner, and she said as soon as I was in good enough shape to ask her husband if she could go, she’d go. She was a card. She kept me in stitches the whole time. Stitches. Melissa, hospital humor?” She finally caught up with the conversation and giggled.

“I’m sorry, Doug, it was funny, but I was distracted. I’m so sorry. I asked and then when you were answering, and all I could think of was the missile and you ... Ackkk. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. The fact that you’re still here is a plus for me. I get very few second dates. Very few. Will you try to be one? I think you’re a doll, Melissa. Your smile and your giggle, especially, entrance me a bit. Oh, and I was hoping it would be more than just our date at the police station tomorrow.”

She giggled again. “You’re too cute. Yes, Doug, I’ll go out with you. You’re not afraid to be seen with a teeny-bopper? Not going to smear your image as a super hero crimefighter?”

“Teeny-bopper? You said you were a physical therapist. You can’t be that young. That’s at least a two-year program, right?”

“Yeah. I started early and ended early. I’ll be nineteen in May.”

“You look a lot older than that, but that’s legal, right? I mean, I won’t go to jail for too long, will I?” She giggled again. “Last time I was caught at a movie with a teenager, I was a teenager!” I smiled with a bit of a leer, acting like a dorky stalker.

“Nope, I’m legal. How old are you? Fighter pilots aren’t all that young. Or old either, are they?”

“Most are between the ages of about twenty-four and forty-five. There are a few outliers, generals, wing commanders, and their staffs stay qualified sometimes, but most of the front-line pilots fit in there. I was thirty when I got popped. It’s been about a year and a half. I’ll be thirty-two in May, myself.”

“You’re not tooooo old, I guess. You don’t even look that old, really. What day in May? I’m the twenty- second.”

“We might be long-lost twins, Melissa. Me, too!” She giggled again. We’d been eating this whole time. I just had salad and some buffalo chicken wings, although I did ask the waitress to walk through the garden with me a second time. Melissa dismissed her and did it for me instead, then went back for a bit more salad herself. That’s all she wanted. She definitely looked like she didn’t eat much.

She really was a nice girl, and I was very attracted to her. It wasn’t just her beauty. She was a nice person. She exuded a caring, compassionate, outgoing personal aura. Yeah, strange words from a guy, but she did. I couldn’t explain it then, and I don’t have to now.

“Melissa, I have a problem. I still need to find my cousin...”

“The mayor.”

“Yes, the mayor. I still need to find Bobbi a birthday present. I need to go back out there looking for trouble. You still available?”

She looked at her watch. “Sure. I’ve got some time.” She stood, and I guess that was the first time it dawned on me. She dressed like a teeny-bopper. A cute one, but nonetheless, a teenybopper. She was wearing a little pastel blue miniskirt, a little T top, and light blue Keds with dingle balls on the backs of footie socks. I thought about that for a bit, but it was a Sunday, in October, and it was nice out.

We meandered around a bit looking here and there, and finally, with all of my ideas gone, she asked if Bobbi liked art. We were outside a gallery that had several paintings and some little sculptures and such. I found a painting that looked like Bobbi’s back yard, which overlooked a huge hillside, but there were horses in it. Perfect. She always wanted horses. She also always wanted a husband, children, and a quiet housewife’s life. Struck out there, too. Her husband left her when they found she was barren and she decided to go back into politics, having a staff instead of being the staff. City Councilman, County Alderman, and now, mayor of a pretty good-sized city. In any case, it was perfect. They wrapped it for me and even offered to have it delivered to her office on her birthday.

Leaving the mall, I thanked Melissa for all her help, and let her know how much I was feeling pulled to her for some reason. She admitted she felt the same way, even though she didn’t understand either. She told me she’d not looked for, nor wanted, a relationship after the last two crashed and burned. She just didn’t, but she didn’t think that way now, for some reason. I gave her one of my cards with my personal phone number on it, but I was afraid to ask for hers.

“Melissa, please call me. We’ll see each other tomorrow, but after that, I mean, please give me a buzz. I really like you. Oh, and thanks for pulling me out of the Rose Garden in the mall. This thing wasn’t meant for four wheelin’.” I smiled at her and got one in return.

“I will Doug. I will. And, it was no problem. I spend some time pushing and pulling those things around at work, so it was no big deal. The main thing was to straighten it out before I pulled, or you would have seen the thorns and not the roses, or however that song goes.” She giggled, I laughed.

I reached for her hand and pulled it to my lips kissing it. “Thank you.” She bent over and gave me a peck on the lips.

“You’re welcome. Do you need help to or at your car?”

“No, I’m fine. I’ve kept you long enough. See you tomorrow?”

“Yes, Doug, you will.”

I was lying in bed later, looking up at the ceiling thinking about Melissa when the phone chimed. It was Melissa texting.

Her: You awake?

Me: Am now.

Her: Oh, sorry.

Me: No. Teasing. Lying in bed thinking about this evening.

Her: Me too Why???

Me: I don’t know. For two people who weren’t looking ... I don’t know.

Her: Me neither Dinner tomorrow? Talk? My treat.

Me: Dinner, yes. Talk, yes. I’ll buy. I owe you for the tow job still.

Her: LOL - We’ll decide in morning. Thanks for chat. Good night.

Me: Thank you more (smiley face emoticon) much better night now.

That couldn’t be a bad thing. She’s feeling it, too. I smiled, turned off the TV that had been droning on in the background, and fell asleep thinking about her miniskirt, the cute little Keds, and those gorgeous long tanned legs in between.

I met her at the police station on Broadway in the morning, both of us arriving at about eight forty-five. She saw me getting out of the car and once I was out, and on my feet, she walked over to greet me.

“Good morning, Miss Ashton.”

“Stop! Good morning, Doug.” She used both hands and gently pulled me down by my jaw to kiss me. “I thought about you all night. You need to watch out, or you’re going to have a teeny-bopper stalking you.”

I held her hands out and looked down. She was wearing a similar outfit, only in pink. “I don’t see a down side to that yet. Keep talking.”

She took my hand and we started toward the building. “Ever had butterflies?”

“Yes. Before that kiss last night, it was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.”

“I did last night, too, and just now. I feel them holding your hand. Am I crazy?”

“If they are for me, you might be, but I’m not going to complain.” I stopped, turned, and looked at her. “You are adorable, sweet, charming, and just plain fun to talk to. But be careful, Melissa. I don’t want to turn you away, quite the opposite, but one of the things I thought about on the way here was what would happen IF? What if we did like each other enough to date, and more? Grow to love each other? As I said, I’m not, certainly NOT, trying to talk you out of it, but I’m not the best a beautiful girl like you could do, so be careful. On that note, I want to take you out tonight for dinner and then to dinner and a movie, or a movie and dinner, again on Friday or Saturday. You get to pick. All of it. I’ll pick next week when we go out again.”

“OK. You were scaring me.”

“Not my intention. Melissa, honey, I’ve been hurt very badly. I will act like a man who doesn’t want to be hurt again. I’m sorry.”

“Doug, I think that may be my problem here, as well. I’ve been hurt badly, too. Very badly, both physically and emotionally. A couple of times. I’m very leery of people, but not you. I don’t understand that. At all. But I’m letting go, one more time. If I get hurt again, I’ll probably just lock myself in my closet and hide for the rest of my life, but something, for some reason, is telling me to give you the benefit of the doubt, and I hate to be obvious about it, but it hasn’t got anything to do with your predicament.”

“My predicament?”

“Yes. The fact that you’re walking when you shouldn’t be able to and all. I see you as a man, Doug. Not the guy in the wheelchair last night.”

“Good. That’s probably a good way to start out.” She looked at me like I was being a smart-ass. “No, really. I’m not the wheel chair. I’m not the braces. I’m a guy that used to be an Air Force fighter pilot, but I don’t do that anymore.”

“What do you do? You never really said.”

“I’m the sole heir to the Allen fortunes. A few billion dollars that grows faster than I can give it away. I’m what they call a professional philanthropist. I was going to mention last night that we are both a pist. I’m a philanthropist and you are a physical therapist. I make lives better and you make them...”

“Don’t say it you big ... Don’t say it!” She stopped me at the front door on the way in, then looked up at me, with a sincerely solemn expression, directly into my eyes. “Tell me I’m not crazy, please, Doug.”

“I don’t think you are. If you are, then I am, and if I am, they’re going to put me on an allowance and take all my money, so that ... Let’s don’t go there. Melissa, let’s just see, OK. Let’s just give it time and be together and try. If it works, we’re better off for it. If it doesn’t work, I know I’ll still have been better off for it. Somehow, you are a positive force in my life. I just know it, for some reason.”

“Ditto. What the cute guy just said. Come on, let’s get this over with. We have until one, then I have to be at work. We get done here and do lunch? You OK with that? Sorry, I shouldn’t presume.”

“A couple of things I need to say to that. First, and most obvious: You go to work looking like that? Do you need any more patients? Second: Don’t worry. Say whatever you want and ask whatever you want. I’ll let you know, but, and take this carefully, I don’t have any other personal engagements, or entanglements, so you may presume a little, and I may ask you to accompany me to some things, you know, so you don’t get jealous of me running around with gorgeous women in gowns and high heels.”

“First, and the most obvious, yes, then I change into scrubs at the clinic. I would love to have you as a patient, but not at work. We’ll talk. Second: OK, I won’t worry, but I’m limited on cocktail circuit attire. I have one fancy dress, my prom dress, and I was with him, so I will not wear it again, ever, let alone with you. I would burn it, but my foster father told me he’d buy it, if he could take my picture in it. I feel guilty. That, I thought, was an innocent request. Maybe I’ll donate it to Goodwill? Never mind. Did you say you were rich?” I nodded. “I’ll make you a deal. I’m not a gold digger. I really like you, but if you want to take me somewhere nice, and want me to look nice, you’re going to have to dress me. Pretend I’m one of those paper dolls or something, but I’m really what you see. I have a couple pairs of high heels, but they go with my casual clothes. They certainly aren’t satin dancing shoes.”

“You just made my day.”

We spent all of forty-five minutes talking to a woman who introduced herself as a detective. She spent about fifteen minutes with the both of us, ten minutes with each of us, then a few back together. Seems the mall security people were able to provide them a recording of the entire incident that looked like mine from a different angle. When we were on the way out, she told me, “Mr. Allen, your balls are not considered deadly weapons, but they can do a lot of damage. Be very, very careful in the future.” I did my best not to crack up, but when Melissa lost it, I followed. The detective did a doubletake on herself to figure out what was happening, then broke out giggling and told us to get out before she arrested us both for police harassment. It was a really funny situation. She was a really good sport about the whole thing. Melissa and I walked out holding hands.

“Follow me to Denny’s?”

“Yes, hon, lead the way.” There was one right up the freeway, so she led the way, and once there, we walked in together.

We were placed in a booth across from each other. “You walk a bit stiffly, but pretty well considering. Does it feel like it’s getting better?”

“If so, it’s so slowly I can’t tell, but remember, when I got home, I couldn’t lay on my back or even sit on my ass, let alone walk, so yes, it’s obviously getting better.” The giggle. Again. I’ll bet I’m hooked. The whole thing with her was moving way too fast, but I figured I was probably hooked. She was so young, and I was so broken, but she was such a breath of fresh air.

“You asked if I needed more patients. Would you approve of me talking to Doctor Thomas? To see if I can help. It’s a proven fact that the more often people participate in,” she giggled, “organized Pain and Torture, the better they do.”

“I was kidding about the more patients thing. I like seeing you in your street clothes, doll. You’re gorgeous, and an eyeful, and ... Really easy to look at.”

“Thank you, but I was being serious. While maybe a bit pushy and clingy, still quite serious.”

I might have gotten just a bit defensive, but I asked her, “Melissa, do you just want to be around me to see if you can fix me? A work in progress? An experiment just to say you could?”

“No, Doug, it’s because I love you and I want to help you.”

“You love me?”

“I think so. I’ve never felt this drawn to anyone before. This connected.”

That kind of threw cold water on my tantrum. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t think ... Melissa, it’s only been ... Hell, less than a day.”

“How long does it take to realize water is hot?”

“Wow. I thought I was a romantic.” Her statement threw me. She was serious.

“You are. I want scrambled eggs, toast, and tomato juice. And water.”

“Wow. I want scrambled eggs, toast, and tomato juice with hot sauce, and water.”

“Stop making fun of me.”

“I wasn’t. That’s generally what I order for breakfast when I’m out.”

“Ut Oh.”

“No shit,” I said. Then, I thought knew what was going on. We were made for each other. I hoped. Sounded too simple at the time, though.

We parted ways after eating and talking over brunch. I was quite literally stricken by this doll. We just seemed to mesh. I shouldn’t have questioned her motives like I did, but once we were past it, I’m glad I did. What a revelation! In less than a day, this treasure, this beautiful creature, thought she was in love with me. A lot to swallow, but it tasted pretty good. That didn’t come out right. Still, even though it was a bit scary, I had been scared before and lived to tell about it. At least this one didn’t have a warhead on it.

During our conversation, after I was a jerk, after I was told she loved me, and after I came to my senses, I told her that if she wanted to talk to Cal, she should do just that. She explained her motives. Me walking was secondary. Me happy was primary. I had already caved and texted Cal about her and her intentions that afternoon.

I picked her up for dinner, parking just outside her apartment. It looked like an old two-story motel building renovated so that every two rooms were made into a single apartment. Pretty sensible idea. It wasn’t much, but she was young, on her own, and just starting out in the world. She let me in when I knocked, pulled me down for a kiss, and showed me around. A bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, and living room. Period. But, unlike the area around it, or the building itself, the inside of her apartment was very nicely done, very well organized, and clean as a whistle.

She looked even better. The skirt was a touch longer than the previous ones, and a darker blue, the blouse a bit dressier and white, and the heels, strappy stiletto sandals, made her legs look divine. A second look showed she was wearing hose. A really flattering color of a light brown with a reddish tint. She was an absolute wonder.

 
There is more of this story...
The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.


Log In