Choices to be made
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CHOICES TO BE MADE.
(Like all my stories this is a work of fiction. However I have included names and references that follow the correct format of official records. None of them are complete in case I accidently post a valid record that might identify an unknown person.)
It was a dull but not cold November morning and I needed to pop into my bank to resolve some paperwork issues that had arisen regarding the renewal of a loan.
My branch is on a corner on the outside of the town square but its doorway cuts diagonally across that corner.
I was crossing the square to the entrance the first time I ever saw her, although she didn’t notice me.
She was talking to an older woman, but something about her grabbed my attention. To this day I’m not sure what it was. She was just there. What draws a guys thoughts to any particular woman? I did not notice anything outstanding about her. She was just sitting there talking. It was hard to judge her height and I only had a side view of her.
I guessed she was about twenty, and seemed to be of average build with dark, but not black shoulder length hair. She was sat crossed legged on a padded cushion as she spoke to the woman.
I entered the bank and resolved the paperwork problems quite quickly with a junior manager who was polite and efficient. If anything I was a problem customer as my brain was trying to work on two trains of thought. I wanted to get the paperwork done but for some reason my mind was on the girl outside.
As I exited the branch she was still sat there talking with the other lady. I noticed she was wearing loose fitting fleecy trousers and a padded anorak on top with a pair of old trainers on her feet. I guess they all kept her warm while she was sat there.
I had a choice to stop and speak with her, but I walked away, although there was still something niggling away in my head about her, and I found it difficult to get my mind to move on.
Eventually other thoughts did creep in and take control and I got on with my daily chores.
I thought about her occasionally over the winter but I didn’t see her again until it was late spring. I was walking up the road that leads up to the junction where my bank was located. It was a bright day and just before lunchtime and I was making my way home. I live about a mile from the town centre.
As I was walking up the slope in the pedestrian area I noticed her sat on a corner outside of Smiths, the newsagents. She looked to be wearing the same clothes and was sat on her cushion. She was cross legged and was reading a book that she was holding in her lap.
I was walking up on the opposite side of the road and I tried to take in more about her.
Other than her rounded face I didn’t really grab any more details as her concentration was on the book.
It has always been my policy not to donate to people begging on the street. Most of them are obviously alcoholics or on drugs and any contribution would continue to fund that lifestyle.
As I continued walking a little cog turned in my head and I concluded that she did not fall into either of those categories. So why is she begging on the street then?
As my mind was pondering on the matter she looked up and stared across directly into my eyes. She had large deep blue eyes and, for a few moments, we were just looking at each other, neither of us blinking. Eventually she gave the hint of a smile and looked back down at her book.
I have been told I have a smiley face and perhaps she just responded to that, but I chose to look away and continued walking. It was one of those times when you pass a stranger and both of you know you have made some sort of contact with the other, but neither of you speak or know quite what has happened.
Perhaps I should have spoken, even if just a ‘hello’, but I didn’t. The rest of my day was continually interrupted by my mind wandering as it tried to work out what had happened.
What was drawing me towards this young lady who was probably half my age? And why was she begging on the street?
I was sat at my desk towards the end of the day when a light came on in my head. Do I know she was begging? She looked to all intents and purposes as if she was, but she didn’t hold out a hand or speak and there was no mug or begging bowl on the ground in front of her.
Why am I concerned, is it concern or is it something else?
It was a few more weeks before we found ourselves in the same situation. Some kind soul had just given her a take away coffee from a local kiosk and was walking away. She took a sip and as she turned her head back around our eyes made contact for a second time, as I walked up the opposite side of the walkway.
It was like a replay, but this time our staring was longer and was only broken when her face suddenly burst into a beaming smile. I almost turned to see who was behind me before I realised it was meant for me and it triggered me to respond with a smile of my own.
Why did I continue walking on by? I’m almanbahis not a believer, but as the phrase goes ‘God alone knows.’ Is it a sort of shyness? I don’t normally have a problem in talking with strangers in any scenario. So why am I reticent to open a conversation with this young lady?
I eventually concluded that there was some sort of attraction between us, but it hadn’t been defined and my mind couldn’t decide if I should put myself into what could be an awkward situation. She did have a lovely smile though.
It was several more weeks before I came across her again, in exactly the same location. She must have seen me first as she had a big grin on her face when I realised she was sat there looking across at me walking up the street.
I naturally smiled back, but behind the mask of that smile my brain had finally chosen that I should go across and talk to her.
As before, she was completely different from other beggars in that she made no attempt to elicit money from me at any point. I crouched down so I was closer to her level and didn’t appear in a position of power by standing over her.
She turned the book she was reading over onto her lap as I started speaking to her.
‘Hi…..I’ve seen you around several times…..how come you are on the street.’
She replied in a pleasant soft voice. ‘I was living with my mum but she had fallen behind with the rent so we ended up being evicted.’
‘I see…….so how are you coping at the moment? ‘
‘I get by from what people give me when I’m here. I am living in a tent in some woods for now and I’m just about coping.’
‘That’s not an easy thing to deal with……..how do you cope with cleanliness and food? ‘
‘The sports centre down the road lets me come in and use the showers and toilets if I pay a basic entry fee, and I take my clothes to a laundrette to try to keep them clean.’
‘Have you approached the council as they should be able to provide you with at least basic help?
‘They can’t or won’t help me as I am unable to prove my identity.’
I thought for a moment. ‘Does your mum not have any official paperwork to identify you? ‘
‘We went different ways and if there was anything it probably got disposed of by the landlord.’
‘Ok……and what about a job?’
‘Well…..I’d like to work in the care sector but because I can’t identify myself I don’t even get the chance of an interview.’
I thought for another moment.
‘Ok…….I might be able to help you there but I can’t promise anything. One of my interests is Family History and I’m often around here as our research centre is just down the road, and I also use my computer at home. It’s harder to obtain recent information because of privacy and security concerns but I’m willing to give it a try to find any evidence.’
‘Please…..at least it’s something.’
‘Ok…..if you are sure you can trust me then pop your name and date of birth into my phone and I’ll see what I can do.’ I handed my mobile to her and she keyed the details in, then handed it back.
I read what she had typed…….Jessica XXXXX……….. 25/04/XXXX. ‘Jessica….nice name.’ She just smiled at me as I looked down at her. I suddenly clocked that under those shabby clothes and what looked like a dirty face, but was in fact a tan from being in the open air, there was a stunningly beautiful young lady.
I kept that thought to myself. ‘Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can find out.’
‘Thank you’ she replied in that lovely soft voice.
One thing had surprised me as I walked away. She was actually in her mid twenties…….a lot older than I had first thought. My mind was also questioning why I had decided to help. Had I just chosen to be a Good Samaritan?
I logged into my account with the GRO (General Register Office in the UK. They keep official records of births marriages and deaths along with other data.) I searched with her name and date of birth and after eliminating items that didn’t match I thought I had her details. If correct she had a middle name she hadn’t told me, and an older sister.
Her mother was listed but not her father…….possibly born to a single mother I thought. I can remember her saying she was born in Dorchester but she was registered in Weymouth. There’s only five miles between them so I accepted that’s where her mother registered her birth.
I made a note of the record number. Volume B21D Entry XXX 5/96. I applied for a copy of her birth certificate but not surprisingly security kicked in and wanted me to answer questions about her father. I saved my request to complete later.
It was a few more days before I saw her back in her usual place on the street but I noticed immediately there was a change in her outlook. She saw me approaching but her smile had gone.
‘Good morning Jessica………..everything alright?’
‘Not really’ she said quietly.
‘So what’s happened then?’
‘The management at the sports centre have told me that I can almanbahis yeni giriş no longer use their facilities even though I have always paid for them.’
‘Ok….let me think about that. Meanwhile I may be able to get you a birth certificate but there is more information I need.’
‘You didn’t tell me you had a middle name’ I added.
She looked at me slightly surprised.
‘I think it begins with an ‘L’……..I waited to see if any reply agreed with my search.
‘Y yes’ she stuttered…..it’s Louise.’
‘That’s good’ I replied ‘that’s what I’ve turned up………and you didn’t tell me about your older sister.’
She stood open mouthed for a moment. ‘How did you find that out?’
‘I am used to researching family history, I told you previously. If you know where and how to look there are a lot of things you can find out.’
‘How long do you plan to stay here today?
‘Well……I usually stay for about another half hour before going back to my tent’ she replied.
‘Ok…..I’m prepared to drive back here and pick you up and you can use my bathroom and I’ll wash your clothes and you can have a clean bed for the night. You need to think carefully as you don’t know me and it will be a one off, but it will give you time to try and sort yourself out.’
She mumbled… ‘I suppose it will be the usual blow job or fuck in payment.’
I was a little shocked as that comment was completely out of character up until now. I should have realized.
‘My offer was unconditional………but I assume that’s a no.’ I turned to walk away.
She took hold of my sleeve…’Wait……….I’m sorry……….Please…………If it’s still ok…..I will come with you.’
I took a deep breath…..am I making the right choice?……..’ It will just be the one time……I’ll be back here in half an hour.’
I walked away to where I had parked the car wondering if I had been stupid, I’d never have made that sort of offer to any other beggar so what is it about her that’s driving me to help?
I drove back to the town centre to collect her and after the short drive we arrived at my house. She followed me in and looked around.
‘Wait here in the kitchen for a moment I’ll fetch you a dressing gown.’ I popped upstairs and grabbed the gown from my spare room. She hadn’t moved but was taking in her surroundings in my home.
I handed her the gown ‘the main bathroom is the second door on the left, if you change into the gown and bring the clothes you are wearing back out I’ll add them to your bag of clothes and put them in the washer/dryer.’
She smiled and walked away to the bathroom. I took the clothes from her bag and popped them in the washer and waited for the clothes she had been wearing. I called and asked if she would like a tea or coffee.
‘Tea please’ echoed from the bathroom. Good I thought…..I’m predominately a tea drinker. I handed her a cup as she returned and swapped it for the pile of clothes she held in her hand. I noticed the pair of pink cotton briefs on the top of the pile.
There was just a hint of a smile on her face and I wondered if she had put them there deliberately to see my reaction. I wasn’t not going to look and realised they matched some others I had already put in the washer. I added them to the machine and turned it on.
We sat and drank our tea. ‘Are you ok with lasagne for dinner as I’ve already got some prepared that just needs heating.’
‘Yes…..thanks…..it’s not often that I get a cooked meal…….unless I can afford a take away.’
‘Ok…….I’ll pop them in the oven while you’re having your shower.’
We finished our tea and I took the lasagne from the fridge and set it cooking as she headed for the bathroom.
After a short while I heard her call out for help. I tapped on the bathroom door and it swung open a little. ‘What’s up?’I asked from outside.
‘I’m not sure about the controls can you come in and help me?’
I pushed the door open and she was stood facing me in the large cubicle but she was completely naked. I looked; obviously, I’m a man after all. But I started to turn away, when she said ‘Stop…… please.’
We stood looking at each other. It was hard to keep my eyes on her face and I knew my brain was logging my periphery vision.
She spoke first….’I don’t mind you seeing me naked……..you won’t be the first man to have done so……but I don’t feel threatened here.’
I took the inferred permission to take a look at her. She stood there in front of me completely relaxed.
I guess she was 5′ 8” or 9” taller than the average young lady. She was nicely proportioned. I guessed her breasts to be 34 b ish with quite pert dark pink nipples that were standing slightly proud. I wasn’t sure if she was slightly aroused by my looking or whether that was her natural state.
Her stomach was quite flat and smooth and her hips curved slightly outwards and back to a pair of quite muscular legs. I assumed she walked everywhere almanbahis giriş and that kept them in an athletic state.
She had a small covering of soft looking hair on her mound and I assumed she kept it trimmed. What really grabbed my attention though……..she was one of those ladies, who, when they stand, there is a gap right to the very top of their legs. For some reason that attribute always attracts me.
In my male mind it seems to be an invitation to slide a hand or a cock into that warm recess.
As I centred my look on that spot the slight indent of her slit was visible and I tried hard not to lick my lips.
It was probably only seconds that I was looking, but it seemed like minutes before I dragged my eyes back to hers. I thought there was a hint of a smile in those big blue eyes, acknowledging that she recognised my appreciation of her body.
‘You were going to show me how it works.’
‘Yes…..yes’…..sorry…..that wasn’t polite behaviour’ I stumbled out from my mouth……I slid the door fully open. ‘This turns it on and controls the pressure and this controls the temperature….it’s set to medium at the moment.’
My arm accidently brushed against her breast with its hard nipple as I moved back from the cubicle. I felt sensations run up my arm, I was about to leave when she said ‘Please, stay here with me.’
I wasn’t sure what to make of that. ‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’
She turned and gave me one of her beaming smiles and a gentle nod of her head.
I sat down on the bathroom chair.
The shower kicked to life as she turned the controls and the water started to cascade down her body.
‘There is soap or body lotion on the shelf……just help yourself to which ever you would prefer’ I offered.
She turned and smiled and I watched as the spray changed its pattern as it ran over her breasts. She chose the lotion. I was mesmerized watching the patterns of bubbles sliding down the different shapes her body made as she massaged the lotion in every nook and cranny.
My problem began as she bent forward to wash her legs. Her lovely rounded but tight ass cheeks slowly parted in front of my eyes. I was sure that puckered little circle winked at me, but it must be an illusion, caused by the water, my brain tried to say. Her slightly plump pussy lips parted as her fingers slide back between her legs and bubbles ran everywhere.
My cock was heading skywards and I had to slip a hand into my pocket to release it from the grip of my briefs.
I was sure she glanced back and caught my movement but nothing was said. She stood back upright and allowed the spray to wash the bubbles away. I saw her look up at the shelf.
‘The black bottle contains a shampoo and combined conditioner’ I said, as I guessed that was what she was looking for.
‘Thanks’…..she looked back over her shoulder…..’Do you fancy washing my hair for me?’
‘Shit’….my mind said…..she caught you out there…….you weren’t expecting that…..it was bad enough when she asked you to stay and watch.
I only had shorts and t-shirt on so it wouldn’t be too difficult. ‘Ok ‘I said…’if you are sure.’
I stepped out of my slippers as she handed me the shampoo. Her hair was already wet so I pointed the spray away and started to gently lather her hair as she held her head back towards me. It was enjoyable to gently run my hands through her hair and massage her head. I thought she quietly moaned a couple of times. My imagination? Or was she teasing a little?
I put the shampoo back on the shelf and adjusted the spray to wash the lather from her hair and I watched as the bubbles slid down her taught body.
I turned the water off and reached for and handed her a large bath towel to dry herself. I was about to leave but she asked me to stay again. I was wary of getting myself into a situation that could prove awkward. I had chosen to help her but I didn’t want to be accused of assaulting her.
I sat on the seat again and watched as she slowly dried herself. It was almost like a slow torture as she carefully ensured every part of her body was dry.
She hung the towel on the drying rack and I held the dressing gown for her to slide into. She gave me the hint of a naughty smile as she turned her body into the gown.
‘I’ll show you the guest bedroom, there is a hair dryer you can use in there.’ She followed me to the room and I showed her the dryer and a clean brush.
‘Would you like to finish the job and brush my hair for me?’ she asked.
She quickly sat in the bedroom chair before I had the chance to refuse.
I was worried about being dragged into a place I didn’t want to go. Although I don’t think that really explains my situation. Any other time and place if a beautiful young lady was offering her body to share I would be more than happy to take up the opportunity. But I was supposed to be helping this one, not taking advantage of the situation she was in.
Anyway she had played me well…if it was a game we were in. I took the dryer and started working on her hair. As it dried I gradually brushed it out smoothly. It was quite relaxing and almost therapeutic in a way. As I finished I heard the oven alarm start up telling me dinner was ready.
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