Gorgeous George: Beauty Is Skin Deep, Ugly Goes to the Bone
Copyright© 2021 by OmegaPet-58
Chapter 6: Life of Mystery Beyond the Smock
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 6: Life of Mystery Beyond the Smock - ... But Stupid is as Stupid Does. George barely finished high school with an un-diagnosed learning disability. By chance, he found a coach to help him learn and communicate. He got a better job as a bookkeeper. One day a young woman, Annette, sought help. His loving parents accepted her into their home. Growing closer, they courted, as far as her battered (yet beautiful) body allowed. Then came the lawyers. Motivational flan. Backyard nudism. Waffles. Family ties. The women's clinic.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Rape Heterosexual Fiction Rags To Riches Anal Sex First Oral Sex Nudism
Several weeks after their big date, George approached his mother for help.
“Mom, I’m quitting at the Peppy Pig. I am looking for a bookkeeping job, and I need an interview suit. Also, I have a laser printer now, so I want your help making up a résumé and cover letters.”
“Sure, son. Did you get that bookkeeping certificate?” “Yeah, the test is on the web now, so I could read at my own pace. Once I get a job, I will need more office clothes too.”
Emmy, somberly: “So shall it be laser printed, so shall it be done.”
Many weeks later, George was spending his work days in a cubicle updating ledgers and verifying journals. His salary was modest, yet stratospheric compared to his wages at the store. He had put away some cash, and increased his rent payments to his parents. He wasn’t yet ready to set up his own household. But he had completed probation and now received insurance and paid time off (“PTO”).
One day, he was enjoying a routine Friday lunch at the corner café. Suddenly a young woman blazed in and took a seat at his table. “Mnph?” sputtered George, mouth full of sandwich. She spoke urgently: “Please give me a minute, I’m being followed by a bad guy.” She unfolded a tall menu in front of her face.
A burly man darted in, surveyed the room, and rushed back out. “I think he left. I’m George, George Durand; what’s your name?” “Annette Carter. That was Jerry, that creep has hurt me for the last time!”
“Would you join me? Anything you want on that menu? It’s my treat.” A nearby server pulled out her pad. “Um, thanks, I’ll have a chicken salad sandwich on wheat toast, and coffee with cream and sugar.”
Just as Annette turned back towards the table, a hairy arm seized her by the elbow. An angry voice: “Come on, bitch, we’re leaving!” Annette shrieked and twisted in his grasp. Reacting quickly, George dumped a pitcher of ice-water on Jerry’s angry face.
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