tagRomanceChance Meeting

Chance Meeting

bymagmaman©

{There is almost no sex in this story.}

*

I had just waved goodbye to my client as the limo pulled away, taking him to the airport.

"Very successful meeting!" I thought. The signed contracts in my briefcase meant almost a half year's income to me.

I am a money finder, I find someone who needs money, then I find someone who has money, and I get in the way of it and make a few bucks as it goes by.

That's a bit simplistic but you get the idea.

So I was happy, the new startup had the 3 million dollars they needed, my clients had a nice 9% return and I got my piece out of the deal.

Of course my share arrived in bits and pieces over the terms of the deal, but the first transfer was already made, a nice fat 5 grand was in my account.

Once again, just in time, the house payment was due.

I turned and headed for the Max, our local train if you can call it that that runs back and forth from the suburbs to downtown.

If I had been looking at where I was going or what was around me everything would probably have been different but I wasn't. I was giving my bread and butter client a last bright smile.

Then my world seemed to explode.

Something hit me, it took me a few seconds to realize a woman had run into me full tilt. It didn't help that she wasn't looking either, she was looking over her shoulder.

There was a sickening flash of pain and shock, we hit dead square and down I went, her body momentarily on top of me and then rolling on past down the sidewalk.

For a moment I couldn't breathe, then the screaming pain in my groin added to the agony.

Somewhere in the haze of my mind I heard someone shouting, it was a male voice. Rolling over on my side, I saw a man holding the woman by her hair, his arm drawn back to strike her as she screamed.

I could see people standing around staring, none of them were making any move to help.

Sometimes I hate this fucking city.

I managed to get to my knees, tried to yell at the man who was now slapping the woman over and over but there was almost no breath to make a sound. She was struggling, trying to fight back but the guy was just too big, too strong.

Somehow, I managed to get to my feet, catch a breath.

"Hey, hey!" I yelled, reaching out to try and stop him.

That just got me knocked right on my ass again.

"Mind your own fucking business, asshole!" He growled, advancing at me.

Great. Now I did have his attention.

I was trying to crabwalk back on my heels and elbows as he moved at me, when mayhem came over the top of him from behind and he and the woman both ended up on top of me.

She was digging at his face, his eyes as I rolled aside, got back to my feet.

He shoved her and was just rising, his arm came back to belt her. I saw my opportunity and hit him as hard as I could, right behind the ear.

He didn't make a sound, just folded up and dropped like a stone.

The woman looked at him, then at me. Her face was puffy, red. Blood trickled from her nose and mouth.

I glanced around for my briefcase, it was gone. One of the street hoodlums that hang around the Max terminals had likely grabbed it.

God, I hate this fucking city!

Just then the man let out a groan.

"We better get out of here." I told her.

We boarded the train, as it pulled out I looked back, the guy was on his hands and knees. I had bonked him pretty good, I was a bit proud of myself.

Then I realized that my hand hurt. I looked down, two knuckles were already twice the size of normal.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, it came away bloody.

Looking around the rail car, people were pointedly ignoring us.

"What was all that?" I asked her finally.

"My ex-boyfriend."

"Oh."

I didn't really need to know any more.

None of my business.

But now I wondered why we were sitting side by side on the Max rail car headed for east county?

"Where are you headed?" I asked her.

"I don't know." Then she started to cry.

God, I hate that.

"Do you have some family, friends?"

"No.... No one."

"There has to be someone, some place you can go."

She sat there, silent. I decided to let it slide, none of my business.

My stop was coming up, I started to get up, wish her good luck.

"Hey......sir? Is there any way...can I maybe... stay with you for tonight?"

Stay with me?

I hesitated. Her eyes were puffy, red. She looked....hopeful?

"All right."

I have no idea why I said that, picking up some homeless waif off the street wasn't something I would normally do.

Beaten up be damned, not my concern. Call a cop, let them deal with it. That was the right thing to do.

But we did have the altercation in common, maybe that was it, I don't know. I still didn't even know what that was all about. Hell, I didn't even really care, I just wanted to stay away from that kind of stuff.

She got off with me, followed me over to the Park and Ride. It was nice to find my car intact for a change.

I unlocked the old Volvo and she hopped into the passenger seat. I got some none too clean rags out of the back, gave her one to wipe off some of the blood, she was a mess.

Well, I guess I was a mess, too.

It was a short 10 mile drive to my house out at Corbett, a tiny community east of Portland.

We made the ride in silence, I was struggling with the controls since my leg felt swollen, my right hand hurt like hell with two fingers now going numb, and my balls still felt like someone had drop kicked me.

Well, I guess she had, even though that part was an accident.

I got my first real good look at her as she went ahead of me into my house.

She looked to be in her early 20's, she had maybe 10 extra pounds on her 5'3" frame. By no stretch of the imagination could she be called busty, in fact, I couldn't tell from the blouse and sweater she had on if she had any breasts at all. Her hair was dishwater blonde, stringy.

She looked to me to be a lot like the typical street kid I saw a lot of when I was downtown.

"Just great." I thought. Here I had lord knows what in my home and I didn't even know her name.

"I'm Dan." I told her.

"I'm Joyce. Everybody calls me Joy." She turned and smiled at me.

"Can I wash up?" she asked.

"Sure." I pointed to the bathroom, then I turned and limped into the living room. She stood there and watched me.

"I didn't say thank you."

"You just did. You are welcome." I collapsed into my recliner as she went into the bathroom. I reached over and flicked on my PC that sat on the table alongside, double checked the contract filings. They were there, recorded online. I felt better at that, whoever stole my briefcase got some paperwork and a $30 case.

Nothing they could use, maybe 5 bucks at the hock shop.

I soon heard the shower running, then she was singing, some song I didn't know. Her voice was pretty, I found myself listening carefully. Then the shower shut off, she came out with one of my big bath towels wrapped around herself.

"Can I wash my clothes?"

"Sure. Let me get you one of my T-shirts."

I got up with a groan, every movement was an effort. I hurt in places I didn't know I even had. She watched me with that same odd look again, almost like...an inspection?

I handed her one of my heavy T-shirts, it had lettering from some car company on the front of it. Then I limped back to the chair.

Joyce went into the bathroom, came out moments later with her clothing. The heavy T-shirt did a good job of hiding her figure, assuming she had any. I got up with another groan to show her where the washing machine was.

She thanked me, I went into the bathroom and took a shower, noticing my groin was swollen to at least half again normal size.

It hurt like hell.

I dressed in some fresh blue jeans and another T-shirt. I noticed she had cleaned up, carefully wiping down the shower stall, everything was neat as a pin.

When she came back in, I showed her my spare bedroom. It was a bit sparse but there was a table, a chair, and a bed.

I dug around, found my package of new toothbrushes, gave her the pink one that I would otherwise throw away. Then I went into the kitchen, rustled up some canned meatballs and gravy, some toast.

I called her into the kitchen, handed her a plate. We filled the plates right off the stove, sat and ate.

"Is there somewhere I can give you a ride to tomorrow?" I asked her.

"I don't have anyplace, I was living with Gerald."

"Gerald is the guy....?" I let that trail off.

"Yes, I met him when I got off the bus."

"The bus?"

"Yes, I came out here from Kansas City, I had a job waiting for me. But when I got here and called...."

I suddenly got the picture, she found herself abandoned, no place to go...the "nice" guy shows up, offers to "help."

Joyce looked at me, then her eyes looked down.

"He wanted me to....to...."

"I get the picture."

"Then when I refused..."

I let it go at that, after eating I went into the living room, sat down in one of my beanbag chairs.

I know I slept, I woke up to Joyce humming in the kitchen. I listened for a bit, then got up to go see what she was doing. She was just finishing up the dishes. The table was wiped down, my stack of newspaper was straightened up.

She looked up at me, gave me a dazzling smile, and just went back to work. I shook my head, returned to the living room. The old beanbag chair was the most comfortable, I plopped down into it.

It must have been 2 AM when I woke up in time to see a shape cross the living room and go into the bathroom. It was dark, just the tiny nightlight I kept in a wall socket barely lit the room.

She came out a minute or so later, tiptoed back across the carpet to the spare bedroom. I got my first real glimpse of her body framed by the light behind her through the thin T-shirt. She was slender, I doubt she weighed 120 pounds, but she had a little roll at her abdomen.

Obviously she was well fed, at least up until now. Not a street kid, I decided. Just someone caught up in circumstance.

The next morning I tried to get up and my right leg wouldn't work.

I began crawling across the floor to try and get to my closet, I had a pair of crutches stored there from back when I went up on Mount Hood to pretend to ski.

Joyce came out of the spare bedroom, stopped.

"Oh! Oh my!"

"Can you get my crutches out of the closet, please?"

She got them, helped me get to my feet. I managed to hobble into the bathroom and turn on the water into the tub, screaming hot.

While the water was running, I sat down on the toilet lid and removed my pants and underwear. My right testicle was the size of a damned grapefruit and discolored. It was quite a bit worse than I had thought it would be.

I took off my t-shirt and managed to slip into the hot water, settling back with a groan.

Joyce knocked on the door.

"Can I help?"

"No, I am in the tub. I am all right."

"I'm coming in."

The door opened before I could holler no again, she came over and kneeled down beside the tub.

"Let me see."

"Jesus Christ!"

"I have seen men before, just relax."

It was an order.

She reached down under the water, gently put her fingers on my groin.

"Oh, my."

"I am pretty swollen up."

"Let's get you out of there, I don't think the hot water......"

She helped as I managed to stand up, the hot water had seemed to ease the pain some. I was standing stark naked in the tub, supporting myself by holding onto the handrail. No way could I put my full weight on my right leg. She reached for a towel and began to dry me off. Then she helped me step out, I wrapped the towel around my waist, feeling vulnerable being naked in front of her.

Joyce led me into the spare bedroom, had me stretch out on the bed. Then she got some ice and more towels, and rubbed the ice on the upper part of my scrotum. Oddly it felt numb but hurt at the same time.

All I could do was lay there and turn red as she carefully used the ice, then wrapped a cool pack around me. Reaching for a blanket, she snugged that up over me, then checked the swellings on my face and hand.

"Sorry." I told her, not sure why.

"Hey, you helped me, it's the least I can do."

Then she left me alone, I soon went to sleep.

I woke up hours later to a cool feeling, she was lightly rubbing ice over me again. I looked down at myself, the swelling did seem to be subsiding.

At least the swelling in my testicle was, the other part wasn't. I felt my face flush red.

Joyce glanced up at my face, then back to her ministrations.

"Relax, I have seen men before." she said again, sensing my discomfort. Then she pulled the covers up and stepped out of the room.

I slept some more, woke up to find her standing at the open door looking at me. I hastily pulled the blanket up tight over me, unsure why.

Hell, she had already had her hands all over me.

"I have some food ready."

"Ok." I struggled up, my leg was working better now. I found my old robe in the closet, I probably hadn't touched it in 5 years but I didn't want to put pants on right at the moment.

There was a stack of waffles sitting on my kitchen table, she had found my waffle iron in one of the drawers. I never used it, preferring to heat and eat, mostly out of cans.

Living by myself didn't lend itself to fancy meals or taking a lot of effort. Most of the time I grabbed meals at restaurants. Not the best lifestyle, I knew, but my business was spotty, I was always on the go.

We ate in silence, she had even taken the time to heat up the syrup. The waffles were good, light and fluffy, I wondered how she had made them since I didn't have any pancake flour or anything.

"I made those from scratch, I couldn't find any pancake flour." she said, reading my mind.

"So have you decided where to go?" I asked.

"I was thinking....You need help and maybe I can cook and clean in exchange for staying...?"

"Just for awhile..."

"Hey, look. I don't need any...."

"Yes you do! I won't be in the way."

I just looked at her. I really didn't want a housemate much. I had lived with a woman a year or so before, in no time she was telling me when to come and go, into everything.

She even bought me some brown slacks. I hate brown slacks.

Hell with that.

"I know you probably have a girlfriend, I won't be any trouble."

"I won't take anything.." she read my mind again, I knew nothing about her.

I thought about it for a minute, hell, if she took everything I owned she still wouldn't have anything.

So that was settled, Joy lived in the spare room. I went about my days normally, I even got used to having a decent meal regularly.

Several times she used ice on me, once towards the last I reacted and she smiled.

"Should I take care of that?" She asked.

"No, that's OK." I told her, suddenly bashful.

I must have been out of my fucking mind.

A couple of times she went with me to a local store, we stocked up on a few items.

Somehow we settled into a life, just living together.

I healed up nicely, feeling normal after just a couple of weeks.

Joyce spent most of her time wearing my T-shirts, the sum total of everything she had was a blouse, sweater and the slacks she was wearing when she arrived at my house. In 3 weeks she never left except for the few trips with me to the store, that was it.

In the evening she sometimes sat and watched TV with me, or she sat in her room and read. I had a lot of books, she seemed to always be halfway through one.

There wasn't a spec of dirt in my house, everything was put away, always.

Completely abnormal to my usual lifestyle.

Then I was coming up my driveway and noticed the rock borders that were normally scattered around were all back in place, the tiny lawn, if it could be called that, was turning green and trimmed. The shrubs were taking on color and were no longer scruffy looking.

She not only was taking care of the inside, but the outside too.

I parked my Volvo and got out, my next door neighbor Harold was sitting on his porch. His place was always perfect, either he or his wife were outside messing with shrubs and plants all the time.

He waved to me, I waved back.

"Looking good over there, Dan!" He called out.

I nodded, surprised. I doubt that Harold had said two words to me in the 5 years or so I had lived there.

"That little woman of yours is busy as a beaver!" he grinned at me.

Little woman? I shrugged and went inside.

Little woman, huh?

I was thinking things were maybe getting a bit too damned domestic, my lifestyle really didn't have a place for a full time woman.

Besides, I was feeling pretty chipper again, and was thinking of heading over to the local massage place, called Margie's. I liked the place, there were four gals working there, for a $50 bill and a $20 tip I could count on a nice set of hands taking care of me.

Sometimes they would take off their top and let me play with their titties, too. Once in awhile if I was in the mood I would have Margie herself do me. She was older and a bit on the heavy side, but she just plain loved to suck cock. None of her girls really would, using their hands instead. Of course that meant a nice $50 tip and that wasn't in my budget very often.

It was just fun, filled a gap in my life.

There had been nothing sexual at all between Joyce and me, she had helped me of course with the injury. Well, she had "suggested" once when I erected at her touch but that was it. I had turned her down, too many possible complications and all of that.

Around the house she always wore my T-shirts. She took showers and I saw her with a big towel wrapped around her from time to time but thoughts of her like that hadn't crossed my mind.

Of course with my nuts sore and swollen up, sex hadn't really been on the agenda anyway.

I went inside, dinner was ready, it always was.

I sat down to roast beef and potatos, salad, peas on the side, good like always.

"I am going out tonight." I told Joyce as I finished up.

For some reason that was hard for me to say, I felt guilty about wanting to go take care of my needs.

Like I was fucking cheating on her or something?

Hell, that was silly, but I still felt that way.

"Oh, Ok." She got up and started on the dishes.

I showered and shaved, cleaned up. I hopped in the Volvo, headed over to Margie's Therapy center, thinking of getting a nice rubdown and a sweet hand finish.

It had been way too long.

I ended up downtown at a Freddie's department store instead. I bought several blouses, some slacks, some simple undergarments. I also bought a small suitcase. Then I spotted a soft blue dress, it was conservative and pretty. I had a fair idea of Joyce's size, the dress was expensive, over $300. I bought it, too. I even bought a small purse, realizing she didn't have one.

Then I drove back to my house.

I was thinking with some clothes, something for a beginning, she could move on.

Joyce looked up at me as I came inside.

"I bought you a few things."

She opened the packages, looking each item over. Then she opened the one with the blue dress.

I realized her eyes were damp.

"You want me to leave?"

"Well...you can't stay here forever.." I managed to get that out, feeling guilty again.

"All right. It's OK, I will manage."

She got up and headed for the spare bedroom, turning back at the door.

"Thank you for the clothes, Dan."

I sat there for a long time, feeling miserable and not really knowing why.

I went to the office the next day, she was gone when I got home. I guess I had expected that, but it still was a bit of a surprise.

Several times I walked into the kitchen, almost expecting her to be there. It was an odd feeling.

My life went back to normal, a couple of weeks went by. I ran into Harold, or I should say he was waiting for me when I got home.

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