What Part of No?
A short erotic encounter. It contains, at the end, detailed description of ANAL sex so if that is not your ‘cup of tea’ then please do not read this story.
The title is a reference to a song by Lorrie Morgan with the same title.
It was about 7. I was sitting in a corner of my usual wine bar nursing my second glass of Cabernet, feeling pretty sorry for myself as my decree absolute had arrived together with the news that my wife had custody of my daughters.
I was ‘people watching’. It’s a diverting pastime. I noticed a young woman come in. I didn’t take much notice until she sat at the bar and I saw her reflection. She had a fringe (or, as they say in the US, bangs) of quite bright red hair. A couple of unnoticed, appreciative glances then I just cradled my drink until I noticed two guys go up to the bar and sit either side of her. The situation intrigued me so, although I couldn’t hear the conversation, I watched carefully. It was clear they were trying a pick-up but also that she wasn’t interested by several shakes of her head. They edged closer and almost seemed to be whispering. She was obviously becoming distressed.
OK, time for the Knight. I walked over and met her eyes in the mirror and winked. “Sorry I’m late Sharon. Look, the tables booked. Just leave the drink.”
“OK Tom,” she said, taking my arm, “where are we eating?”
“The little Italian,” I replied as we left.
Outside she said, “Oh God, thanks for that. They were really coming on.”
She laughed. “OK. I’m Joyce.”
I nodded. “Mike. Hi!”
“Hi. Did you actually have a table booked?”
“No. I had my shining armour on and just came up with it. Look,” I continued, “if you’re not meeting somebody we could do dinner.”
“Mmm,” she said, “this is the most detailed pick-up line ever,” Then she smiled as she saw my face. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist it. That would be nice. Might cheer me up!”
We did end up in the little Italian and over the meal were well into our second bottle of Pinot Grigio. Conversation hadn’t gone that well until the death of the first bottle.
“I’m sorry Mike. I’m not very good company.”
I smiled sadly, “I’m probably not helping. Trouble?”
“Yep, big trouble!”
“I know we’ve only just met but they do say a trouble shared is a trouble halved.” She smiled cheekily. Hell, she was beautiful. I was caught off guard then and she must have noticed how she had affected me.
“I tell you what. You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine!” That was also followed by a lovely innocent smile and a fluttering of her eyebrows that clearly indicated the almost double entendre.
I love a fringe and, for just a moment my eyes lingered there. Her hair was almost orange and seemed to frame her face.
“Hello! Anyone home?”
I laughed nervously. “Sorry. Distracted. Mines easy,” I said. “Got my decree absolute today.”
“Makes you single. Gotta be good.”
I sighed. “Not at the cost of my kids!”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Wanna unload?”
Why not, I thought. I hadn’t really expressed my feelings to anyone. I smiled sadly, “Only if you promise to tell me yours.” She laughed and nodded. You know, every time she smiled she cheered me up.
“She’s younger than me,” I began, “and she had an affair with one of my pals who now works in the US. Finally decided to kick me into touch and get a divorce.” I took a deep breath mainly to control my anger. “She completely bushwhacked me and managed to get custody of the girls. So she left for the States last week without telling me,”
“Cow! You didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to your kids?” I shook my head, too emotional to answer. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have pushed.” She gave me an apologetic smile.
I smiled sadly in return and met her eyes; a beautiful light blue. “It’s OK. It’s nice to actually have someone to talk to. OK, I’m bucked up, it’s your turn.”
“Mine’s boyfriend trouble. We’ve been having an on and off fight for a couple of weeks and it boiled over. He came to my work and made a terrible scene and, as a result, I got fired.”
“That’s not good. Where is he now.”
“I don’t know. Probably back at the flat. Look, I’d better get back and try to sort things out. It’s really been nice. Thank you for stepping in and for dinner. I can pay my share of the bill.”
I laughed. “Wouldn’t have very shiny armour if I made the distressed damsel pay for her dinner!”
She laughed. I found I liked it very much when she laughed. “Errm, look I know you’ve got a boyfriend but, on the off chance that . . . well you know, here’s my card.”
She took the card, glanced at it, and tucked it in her bag. “I’ll just call an Uber.” She did and soon disappeared. I called one too. I had mixed feelings in the car. I did feel a bit happier having got some of my frustration off my chest but that was balanced by the realization that I would never see Joyce again. Ships that pass in the night, I thought, with a soft smile of memory.
My trip only took a few minutes and I had batıkent escort settled into the sofa with more wine – I had decided that, all things being equal, drunk would be good! First sip and my phone rang. I thought for a moment. Who could that be at almost 10. Answer it!
“Hello! Is that Mike.” A distressed female voice. It clicked.
“Yes. I’m sorry for calling but there was no one else. He knows all my friends. I’m scared.”
“He’s wrecked the apartment, cut up all my clothes and set them on fire! The Fire Brigade had to come and the landlord threw me out! I’ve got no money. He cleaned out the bank account too! Please, can You help?”
Well! The same damsel in distress. “Give me your address and I’ll get an Uber to bring you here – if that is OK.”
“Yes, oh yes. Thank you.” She gave me the address and I arranged the pick-up. Joyce arrived about 20 minutes later. I watched for her arrival and nipped out to tip the driver and guide her in. It must have looked a little like I had called an escort!
I sat her in the lounge and poured a glass of wine. “I’m so scared Mike. He’s got violent. I had nowhere to go. He would find me if I went to any of my friends and I haven’t got a penny! I thought of you and the bar and dinner.” She started to cry. What to do. Hug? No, I took her hand.
“It’s OK Joyce. You can stay here. I’ve got two other bedrooms.” I gave her a box of paper hankies. “Would you feel better after a shower and a change of clothes?” She nodded. “OK, I’ll show you the bedroom.”
I led her upstairs to the second bedroom. “You can have this one. The bathroom is through there. We do have a problem though. I don’t have any women’s clothes.”
She gave a sad smile. “Not a transvestite then!”
“No. There are shirts, lounge pants or shorts and men’s underwear in the wardrobe if you want to change.”
“Oh thanks. Thanks so much.”
“No problem. I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk or you can go straight to bed. It’s made up.”
Back downstairs I continued to cradle my wine and wondered if she would come down. I don’t know why but distressed as she was she looked even lovelier. I supposed it was just the fact that she was in trouble and needed help. For a few moments I described her to myself.
Joyce would be in her mid twenties I thought, though nowadays a woman’s age is difficult to assess. About 5’9″ – quite tall! Slim. Breasts small. Nice shape. I noticed a woman’s arse first and hers was proud below slightly wide hips. Her hair was a gingery orange red and was cropped to nect length framing her face. It was the fringe that did me above those devastating blue eyes. Ever since I found Betty Page pin-ups I’d been in love with bangs! She has a small nose and a lovely smile.
As I thought this she came into the lounge hesitantly. She was a picture of strange loveliness.
“I found these! No bra though.” I could see that through the thin material of one of my shirts. She smiled, “Not that I need one!” Added to the shirt was a pair of lounge shorts that showed a lot of very nice leg. “Can I finish the wine?”
I was taking deep breaths as my Male was at full throttle. What is it when a woman puts on a man’s shirt? I passed her the glass and she sat in one of the armchairs crossing her legs with little concern about the amount of thigh she exposed.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I said hoping to distract myself.
“Well, it was like I said on the phone. Every single bit of my clothing was ruined. He smashed some furniture then set the remains of my clothes on fire in the middle of the bedroom. It set the sprinklers off. They put out the fire but the Brigade came for the alarm. My landlord was pissed and told me to leave. Then when I tried to get some cash there was no money in the fucking account. Sorry. He’s really screwed me! I have no money, nowhere to live, and I got fired!”
“Not too good!” I said with a smile.
“No, not too good,” then she giggled. “Whoda thought that I’d be sitting in your lounge, in your clothes, drinking your wine at midnight.”
“I must admit it did cross my mind in the Uber!” She looked then laughed. Then she became serious. “It’s difficult. You don’t really know me but, oh fuck, I don’t have anywhere to go. Can I stay here for a couple of days?”
“Of course. I can have my sister bring over some clothes in the morning. You’re about the same size.” She stood then about 4 feet away from me. She looked good enough to eat!
A strange expression came over her face as her blue eyes met mine. “I . . . I can’t . . . well I can’t. . . . I don’t have anything, any way to repay you . . . but . . . well,” she trailed off. For just a moment I really did want to collect but it would have been wrong. I stood, put my hand on her shoulder, and lightly kissed her cheek. “I haven’t done nearly enough to deserve that,” I said with a sad smile, “and anyway, I wouldn’t want that just as a reward.” She stood still for a moment then she reached up and returned the kiss beşevler escort on my lips.
“I like you!” She turned and walked away. My eyes followed the sway of her hips under the shirt. Wow!
I got up early – I usually did, and started some bacon and eggs. I always ate a large breakfast because most days I worked through lunch!
Joyce came into the room in one of the Japanese silk dressing gowns my ex had left – she never liked them. “This is so nice Mike. It sort of strokes your skin.” Yes it does, I thought, and I love the touch – and she is probably naked under it!
“I bought them but my ex never liked them.”
“I think it’s fabulous. Is that breakfast?” She walked close and the gown wasn’t tight.
“Yes. It’s ready!”
“I’m sorry,” she said contritely but with a cheeky smile. Wow, she was lovely. No makeup, natural bangs. Deep breath. I shouldn’t be pushy.
“It’s fine. Let’s sit and eat.” We did and she chatted most of the time. Despite her quite desperate situation she didn’t seem discouraged. She also didn’t seem aware of how loose the gown was!
Her situation caught up with her as she finished eating.
“I’m sorry to be a nuisance.” She wore an apologetic look.
“You are not.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Well you can stay here.” She met my eyes and the gown showed most of her breasts.
“I can’t pay you but . . . Upstairs?” The look was mixed. Apologetic and sensuous at the same time. Another clear offer.
“Yes. Upstairs.” You are going to say, idiot! Take the payment — but she wasn’t an escort; a call girl. She was a girl in trouble.
“I thought so.” She smiled almost knowingly. “I had better put on some clothes.” She left. Idiot, I said again to myself! Take her to bed. No, that would be wrong. She would be doing it for the wrong reasons.
Gracie arrived a few minutes later with a suitcase.
“OK, Tell all big brother,”
I smiled. “Not much to tell really. I met this girl. She’s in trouble. I gave her a place to stay.”
“No. No funny business.”
“OK. Where is she?”
“Upstairs. Second bedroom.” She turned and left.
She poked her head round the door some 10 minutes later. “I like her. She’s cute.” She came close and hugged me. “Be careful Mike. You’re. . . well . . vulnerable!” Despite being 3 years younger Gracie had always mothered me and she had been a great support over the past few months.
“I’m OK Gracie. Really. Heck I like her too but . . . we’ll see how things go.”
She kissed me and left. I must admit that the fact Gracie had liked Joyce had made me feel good. Gracie had never really liked my ex.
Joyce arrived back down a while later. “Look,” she said twirling, “clothes!”
She was wearing jeans and a tea shirt and it was obvious that Gracie was at least half a size smaller than her and didn’t have a bra that fit.
“It’s a bit tight. Your sis is tiny! Lucky I’ve no tits but not so with a fat ass!”
“Sorry. That’s what my ex boyfriend used to say! What do you think?”
“Is that a ‘does this make arse look fat’ type of question?”
She giggled! Oh my! “No. Truth. He was wrong.”
She laughed. “I really like you!” Then she was almost tearful. “What am I going to do? No job. No money. Nowhere to live.” She looked so plaintive, desperate. This sudden change of mood was something that was beginning to fascinate me.
“I can help.”
“You’ve done so much already.”
“I just gave you somewhere safe to stay. Look, I think I told you I was a software engineer.” She nodded. “Well, I work from home. I have an office. My ex was also my secretary part of the time so now I don’t have one. A secretary that is. You worked in HR so I imagine you could do that.”
“I was a secretary for my first boyfriend.”
“So you could work for me. I could pay you . . “
“But you didn’t pay your ex?”
“No but I can easily afford to pay you.”
“How much?” she asked with a cheeky smile then, “Kidding. I’d do it for nothing.” Her eyes met mine and again I sensed an offer.
“No, it would not be right. We’ll work out how much and you can stay here and, if it’s OK be a housewife.” She tilted her head and smiled her sexy suggestive smile which seemed to make her eyes sparkle. “You know, cook etc.” I added hurriedly.
“I think I’d like that. Where is the office.” I walked to the kitchen window and she followed.
“Down there. It was a ‘granny’ flat but I converted it into a three room office.”
“Not far to go to work! If I’m going to work for you can I have an advance? I really need to buy some clothes that fit!”
“Use this,” I said, giving her one of my credit cards.
“As much as you need.”
“Wow!” she said with that smile. “I’m gonna have to work real hard to pay this off!” She turned and left. I knew she was either testing me or teasing me. I think she liked the fact that I didn’t want payment from her body. No that’s wrong. I did ‘want’ but I chose to do nothing about it. There was ankara escort no doubt in my mind that Joyce was a very sexy lady! I left for the office and continued work on my current project.
Joyce came in sometime later. She was wearing jeans that fitted her much better, a light top (with a bra) and sneakers. Her fringe was in evidence! “Did you have any lunch?”
“Is it lunch time?”
“No. It’s 3 oclock.”
“Well you should! I brought you coffee and doughnuts.”
“Great. I’ve just got to . . .”
“The coffee is hot and the doughnuts are fresh. Eat them.”
“Yes ma’am!” I threw a mock salute. She poked out her tongue. WOW! Sexy. She sat at the desk in the other room.
“What’s all this paper?”
“This and that.”
“You don’t know do you?”
“Thought so. Shall I start work now.”
“Err. That would probably be good. Thanks.”
“Eat your doughnuts.” I did and drank the coffee. I buried my mind back in the computer when I felt her hand on my shoulder. “Are you always like this when you work?”
“Dead to the world. I’ve been talking to you.”
“Sorry. I get involved.”
“I noticed. You have been going solid for over 3 hours. Anyway, did you know you have an appointment tomorrow at 10?”
“Fuck! Oh sorry. Where?” She told me. “I’m going to have to work to get everything done.” I turned back to the computers.
“I’ll bring you some dinner then.” I didn’t hear her leave.
I smelled food sometime later and she was there with a tray.
“Dinner and I’m going to sit here until you finish it!” She did! It was pretty good too.
This set the pattern for our life together for the next few weeks. She basically looked after me. I actually made meetings on time and prepared. I felt better because she didn’t let me work stupid hours and she fed me. She also interfered with my sleep, unintentionally of course.
Now Joyce would have said that she had no tits and a fat arse. Although you might think that, she did have tits, albeit small. What she did have were large nipples and, as she seldom wore a bra, they were pretty obvious. Did she do it on purpose? I didn’t know at the time. As to her arse. Well I am something of a connoisseur when it comes to the female arse. Anal is my favourite kind of sex – it was how my ex hooked me!
Joyce did have a biggish arse that may have looked a little out of proportion but it was perfectly shaped and certainly had no excess fat. She wore clothes that accentuated her arse after the first couple of weeks and I spent much time thinking about it. Strangely I didn’t try anything nor did I masturbate so my libido tended to be high.
I had been going to sell the house, it had depressing memories but Joyce created new ones. She was always happy and displayed her thanks for my help in loads of little ways.
When she found out it was my birthday, 43, in a few days time she set about making plans for the day. Gracie, her husband John and their two kids came over in the afternoon and Joyce set up a sort of quiet party. She got me a beach shirt that made everyone laugh.
Gracie and the family left about 7 and Joy and me just sat and talked about everything.
“I think I’ll go to bed,” she said around 9. “It’s been a busy day. Why don’t you turn in too?”
I looked at her standing there and for the umpteenth time regretting not accepting her ‘payment’. I took a deep breath and was glad I didn’t. “Good idea,” I said laughing, “I aged a year today.” She laughed and left.
I sat in the lounge for a while just thinking. I was lucky, I thought. Joyce had brushed away all the bad memories about this house left by the divorce. She was always bright and cheerful. I smiled to myself and decided to go to bed. I didn’t, and I hadn’t, watched any porn, and just stripped off and laid on the bed. I always sleep naked! I must have dozed off because I was startled by a knock on the door. Without thinking, I walked over and opened it, luckily not too wide!
“Hi.” It was Joyce. I closed the door a little realizing that I was naked.
“Errm,” I managed.
“Hello! It’s me, Joyce. Remember?” She was laughing.
“Sorry, I was half asleep. Is something wrong?” I had let go of the door and now she pushed it open. I was still somewhat startled as she looked me up and down.
“Mmm,” she said, “nice. No. Well yes I suppose. I forgot one of your birthday presents.”
I smiled, “You didn’t need to come down specially.”
“I did!” She opened her dressing gown. She was wearing a white lingerie set with suspenders, white stockings, and red shoes. The gown fell to the floor and she stepped forward, her arms unfolding me. Call me dense but I didn’t get it right away. “Oh God Mike, wake the fuck up!” I did.
“Yes me. No dope, I expect to get fucked so you had better buck up!” Then she giggled, “mmmm, I feel that you have.” I could feel it too! I put my arms around her and pulled her close. My mouth covered hers in a passionate kiss. Her tongue pushed into my mouth and danced with mine. Stepping back from the kiss I looked at her.
“You are bloody gorgeous. Why?”
“Because I want you so fucking much and it’s still your birthday! You daft sod! I’ve wanted you since you turned me down!” Would any man ever understand women?