Helping A Friend Ch. 02

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Together, they helped a friend.
8.3k words
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/11/2003
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Fable
Fable
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[Reading the original Helping A Friend before part 2 is advisable....but not mandatory]

Benney’s world was turned upside down. Hollie was gone. For the past two years they had shared every important event of their lives with one another. Although they only met once per week, each meeting was a renewed familiarity that hurdled absences. Yet, each meeting rang with excitement, with the anticipation of new discoveries.

Hollie had scheduled the meetings randomly. They often met at an out of the way diner, several blocks from the office but on different days of the week and never at the same time. They had been open with one another, divulging their deepest secrets. It was as if they had known one another forever. Still, there was caution about her, an awareness of their surroundings, always on the lookout for danger.

She listened to him, advised him and teased him. She inquired but never pried. In turn, she told him things, secrets. And when he became serious, she laughed, automatically reaching for the strand of strawberry blond hair that always seemed to hide one of her green eyes from view.

On two occasions she had let down her guard. There had been the Christmas office party when Hollie had ventured into his department which was almost vacant. She jokingly pointed to the ceiling in a lawyer’s office, saying there was mistletoe above their heads. They kissed, then moved to the desk where Benney pinned her hips against it, stretching the knit dress with his leg between her thighs. “Too bad I’m wearing these damn pantyhose,” she had laughed when she felt his cock stabbing her stomach.

“I’m sorry about leaving you all blown up and no place to go,” she apologized when they met for lunch at the diner.

“What do you mean?” he ask, thinking he knew what she was referring to but wanting to hear her say it.

“The other day, your....condition,” she answered, blushing.

“Oh?” he teased her.

“You know what I’m talking about,” she said, leaning across the table, making him grin sheepishly. She watched him squirm before adding, “It will

be different next time, I promise.”

~*~

Benney didn’t notice when spring rains were replaced by sprouting flowers and greening grass. His mood did not change. Hollie was gone. Despondent, he felt sorry for himself. Unable to sleep, he took long walks and reflected on those meetings with Hollie, the only female he had ever known as a friend.

He sat on a park bench one early morning, sun drenching his back. Absent mindedly, he watched his shadow transgress the path, letting his mind reflect on their only night together. Tom, Hollie’s husband, had been called to his company’s home office, leaving two tickets to a hockey match. She had invited Benney to go with her.

Between periods Benney had gone to the men’s room. After waiting in a long line to take a leak he had discovered that his shorts were on backwards. His fumbling to get his cock out created a clamorous uproar in the men’s room. Hollie was in a rare carefree mood anyway, showing no concern about being seen in public with her young friend. Learning of his dilemma in the men’s room she elapsed into uncontrollable laughter, making a spectacle of herself. When she returned to her senses she suggested they leave because someone may have recognized her. In his apartment she had helped him change his bed sheets, then maneuvered him into it. They had slow passionate sex that lasted hours before Hollie pulled herself away. Now she was gone. He would never forget her and, unbeknownst to him, she would never forget him.

His head jerked, reacting to a shadow that crossed his, briefly . His eyes followed a trim body jogging down the path, ponytail transiting from side to side as it rounded a bend in the path and disappeared out of sight.

~*~

“Hey, why did you stop?” Jen turned and watched him scoop snow off of the bench. “Anything wrong?” she asked, running in place and blowing frosted breath from her mouth as she watched him take a seat.

“No, I’m fine,” he smiled up at her, “it’s just that I can’t help thinking that this is the first place I saw you, seems like such a long time ago.”

She stopped jogging in place and walked back to him, placing a gloved hand on his cheek. “I know, you remind me every time we pass this bench but you don’t have to stop every time.”

Ben stared up at the girl, wondering how he could be so lucky. A strand of hair had escaped from its binding and crossed her thin cheek. She blew it aside and watched him scrape snow aside to make a place for her.

“I want to show you something,” he said, reaching inside his running jumper.

“Okay, but make it fast, it’s not good to stop in the middle of a run, you’ll get a chill and stiffen up,” she said, taking a seat beside him.

“This came to the office yesterday,” he said, producing an envelope.

“Why didn’t you show it to me last night?” she poked his arm.

“Because I wanted to show it to you here at our bench,” he answered, removing a Christmas picture from the envelope.

“Who’s this?” she asked, taking the card from him. Then, seeing the young woman with the small boy and tall man she knew, even before she read the inscription, ‘from our home to yours, Merry Christmas, Tom, Hollie and Timmie.’ They wore matching green sweaters and stood in front of a two story house. Tom, the smiling executive, was wearing a stocking cap, hiding his receding hair line. Timmie was making a face. Hollie, looking as if she had just shifted a loose strand of her strawberry blond hair into place, was clutching her men as if they would bolt should she let go.

“There’s no return address,” Jen said, searching the envelope front and back. “Where do you suppose they moved?”

“The zip code is from a small town near Denver,” Ben answered, “I

suppose Tom took over the office there.

“Wonder why she didn’t put her address on the envelope.”

“I guess she doesn’t want me to have it.” He had given this thought and decided that Hollie wanted him to know that she was okay but had moved on. She had measured the risk of taking up with him again and considered it too great to chance.

“Come on, lazy, let’s finish, I want to go shopping for some curtains.”

“Aren’t you the domestic one,” he kidded as they resumed their run.

“My parents may stop by over the holidays, I don’t want my mother seeing those awful blinds you have up. What if your parents decide to come by? They’ll think I’m a tasteless decorator if I don’t do something about those windows,” she laughed over her shoulder, already two lengths ahead.

They took a long leisurely shower together and she dressed for shopping, he for housework.

‘Eight months ago I wouldn’t have thought of spending a Saturday morning this way,’ he thought as he plugged the vacuum cleaner cord into the wall outlet. He couldn’t help thinking of all that had transpired since that first meeting.

The day after her shadow had crossed his in the park he recognized the pony tail and the running outfit as he stood in line behind her at a coffee shop. He watched the small frame bounce to stay limber as she unzipped a pocket on her left sleeve. Her head turned to the left to peer into the empty pocket. There were beads of sweat rolling down her nose and cheeks.

“I can’t pay for this,” she was saying to the clerk. Her voice was level, unshaken by the shock of the empty pocket. She was pushing a hot cup of coffee toward the clerk.

“I’ll get it,” Benney heard himself say.

She turned and stared blankly at him, her eyes appraising the body that made the offer. “I can’t accept,” she said briskly, turning back to the clerk to offer her apology.

“Sure you can,” Benney insisted. As she squeezed past him he noticed that the coffee was no longer on the counter.

“That’s not good for you,” she scolded, pointing to the donut he had in one hand. She had waited for him to come out the front door. She was looking up at him, smiling. She was still in a bouncing mode, raising on her tiptoes and bouncing back on her heals. He smiled back and shrugged his shoulders.

“Thanks for paying for my coffee, I always have money in this pocket,” she began, pointing to the zipper on her sleeve, “will not always, obviously,” she laughed nervously. He nodded to acknowlege her thanks. She smiled again and walked away, briskly.

She did a double take when she saw him sitting on the bench the next morning. Stopping to run in place, “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, unzipping the pocket on her sleeve. “I’ve got money to pay you back.” She thrust a dollor bill his way but he refused to take it. “Suit yourself,” she said over her shoulder as she jogged down the path.

An irritating frown came to her face when she saw him there the next morning. She took notice that he was decked out in running gear and only slowed when it was apparent that he intended to join her.

“Did you stretch?” she asked, noticing how slow they were running.

“Sure,” he answered confidently.

“Been running long?” she asked, knowing the answer.

“Just started about two minutes ago,” he said truthfully.

“Can we speed it up then?” she said, beginning to pull away.

“How far do you go?” he asked, wanting to make conversation.

She looked back, thinking of a way to shake him. She could easily

sprint off and leave him but something made her slow down so he could catch up. ‘How much did you spend on that ridiculous outfit?’ she wanted to ask.

“This part of the course is four miles but I’ve already done two, It’s two miles to the end.” She looked over at him, wondering how long he would last.

“How often do you run it,” he panted, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Maybe you should walk the rest of the way, you’re breathing hard and there’s another mile to go,” she suggested, slowing the pace again.

Benney was determined. “I’m fine,” he boasted, wishing he could bring himself to give up.

“You don’t smoke, do you?” She hadn’t seen any signs of tobacco use. She watched him shake his head.

“It’s those donuts you know,” framing her hands around her trim midsection to illustrate their affect on his gut.

She pitied him. They slowed to a rapid walk. He fell silent, beaten, but she made small talk as they walked to the end of the course. He was still breathing hard and only half heard her tell him that she ran the course four mornings per week but on Saturday or Sunday she crossed a small bridge and did two miles of the other leg of the course. “I’m training for a 10 K that’s coming up,” she volunteered.

He invited her to join him for coffee but she turned him down, saying that she would be late for work. He had wanted to sit with her and learn more about her.

“I’m Benney,” he extended his hand.

“Jennifer,” she said cautiously as she placed her small hand in his.

He decided to skip having a donut with his coffee. It was while he was shaving that it occurred to him what she had implied when she said she would be late for work. He had slowed her down.

The next morning she did not show up. ‘This may be the day she lays off, she said she runs the course four days,’ he thought. He set his new stop watch and took off at a slower pace than Jennifer had set. He finished the two miles winded but happy with the accomplishment.

He ran the two miles every morning, four with Jennifer, the other three on his own. By the end of two weeks he was able to carry on a conversation over the two miles that he ran with her. They chatted about their families and their jobs and their friends. He learned that she was a graphic designer in an advertising agency.

“I’ve heard the name,” he admitted thoughtfully.

“We do work for your company, that’s probably where you heard of us,” she teased.

It was a Sunday morning. When they reached the end of the course she headed for the bridge and the other leg of the course. He followed her.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she ask. “I’m not going to slow down for you.”

He had been extending his run each day but was still short of four miles. He pounded his gut with his fists to show that it was slimming down. In addition to the jogging he had begun visiting a gym two nights each week, working mainly on his mid section. He had not made much headway, only succeeding in becoming quite sore.

Two more weeks passed before she agreed to have coffee with him. She told herself it was a reward for the hard work he was doing. They agreed to meet at a central location one hour after finishing their run. This would give them time to stretch and shower. She arrived a little late, dressed in a short sleeved dress with a white sweater thrown over her shoulders and matching sandals. This was the first time he had seen her in a dress. It displayed her perky little breasts and her thin but muscular arms and legs.

“It must be nice to have your own place, I had to wait for the shower,” she

said, explaining why she was late. He noticed that she had taken time to highlight her eyes and brighten her thin lips. Absent was the customary pony tail, her hair streamed down on both sides of her face, nearly covering her small breasts.

This was the first time she had spoken of her living conditions. “Why, do you live with someone?” he asked, crossing his fingers, anticipating the answer.

“Two of them,” she said, shaking her head in dismay, “it was great at first, hanging out together, sharing cooking and housekeeping duties, always having someone to talk to. But things changed, we have practically nothing in common. I run, they don’t, I’m an early riser, they stay in bed, I’m a slob, they’re both neat freaks.”

She stopped talking long enough to order a bottle of water. “I’m not usually this bitchy, it’s just that I got home and there was no hot water. They had both showered. Then they complained about the way I left the kitchen.” She looked at him and laughed. “I’m not a very good room mate, that’s why I’m going to get my own place and live alone.”

“Are you really a slob? I don’t believe it,” he said. She dismissed the question with a nod and a smile.

“You’re developing some nice muscles there,” she commented, reaching across the table to feel his biceps. Her hand was small but strong. He reacted to her touch, flexing his arm.

“The race is next Saturday, can you come?” she asked, watching him for a reaction. Her hand had moved to his forearm, still resting there.

“Sure,” he beamed, feeling her hand tighten on his arm again.

She came in 25th overall, behind 20 males and 4 females. At the finish line their eyes locked. He was cheering wildly as if she had won the race.

He escorted her to a grassy spot some distance from the finish line. Too winded to speak, she leaned on him for support. He enjoyed the closeness. She pulled away to sit on the ground.

“Rub my legs,” she said, leaning back to rest on her elbows. He was happy to oblige, taking first one leg and massaging the muscles, then switching legs.

“Just my lower legs, silly,” she laughed when his hands moved down to her thighs. “Hold still,” she commanded, placing her feet to his chest and pushing him backwards until her legs were fully extended. She bent her legs back, the forward again, pushing him back several times.

They were still performing this strange maneuver when they heard a high pitched voice, “that’s vulgar.”

“It only looks that way,” Jennifer said, extending her hand to Ben for him to help her up.

“Mom, this is Benney, he’s just helping me recover,’ Jennifer spoke to the woman. She was carrying a warm up jacket. “Benney, this is my mother.”

The woman was slightly taller than Jennifer but only a few pounds heavier. She smiled as she shook Benney’s hand, “So you’re Benney,” she said as if she had heard all about him, seemingly forgotten about the precarious position she had seen her daughter in.

She took the jacket from her mother and turned to Benney for him to help her put it on. “I won’t be running for a couple of days but I’ll come over and time you if you want,” she said, turning her head to look up at him. He could only smile and nod, unable to describe the warm feeling that had come over him.

“Thank you for coming,” she whispered, standing on tiptoes to brush his cheek with her lips.

~*~

“I hear nothing but good things about you Benney,” his uncle announced from his end of the table. The entire extended family had gathered for Easter dinner. Like several other holidays, attending this family dinner was one of those obligations that he couldn’t shed. He wondered what Jennifer was doing today, she hadn’t said.

His uncle continued to talk but he couldn’t make out what he was saying because of the chatter between them. Relatives were exclaiming, wishing him well. “What is it that you do exactly,” Priscilla, his cousin across the table from him enquired as she reached across her husband’s plate to retrieve a bowl of peas.

Benney begin to explain his job at the insurance company but soon realized that he was ‘off the hook’ when Priscilla’s husband took issue with his space being invaded. They exchanged looks and spoke to one another in hushed tones for a full minute.

When Priscilla looked his way again it was apparent that she had either missed his answer or forgotten the question.

Dessert was served and the meal came to a conclusion. After a respectable time, making the rounds, conversing with each of the family members, his father steered Benney and his mother toward the front door.

It had rained that morning and the air was still cool as they walked down the front walk. “Hold on a minute,” his uncle shouted from the steps. “Benney, I need to talk to you, how about coming upstairs one day next week? I’ll have my secretary arrange an appointment, we need to spend about 30 minutes together.”

“Okay,” said Benney, somewhat confused by this strange request. His uncle had been firm about them not knowing one another at work.

“What’s that all about?” his father wanted to know.

“Beats me,” Benney admitted. What had been a temporary job until something better came along had become interesting. Not content to be just a clerk, Benney had expanded his role within the legal department to become an integral cog in the works. He had cataloged the claims, assigning a numerical value to each file, based on its probability of going to trial.

His charts were used by the chief to assign work to the staff.

“See Benney on that,” was often heard in the office when one of the lawyers questioned why he was working on a particular case. Benney would

explain how he had arrived at a high numerical value that pushed a claim

ahead of older claims.

“Get cracking,” the chief would say, “I’ve never known him to be wrong.”

Although Benney was still classified as a clerk, he had received two

very substantial increases in pay.

“Can we make it another day?” Benney said to his uncle’s secretary when she called to set up an appointment. “Personnel wants to see me at that same time,” he explained.

“What’s this about?” the chief yelled, making an infrequent appearance in the outer office of the legal department. He headed towards Benney with a sheet of paper in his hand. “What does personnel need this for?”

Benney could see that the chief was holding an evaluation form with his name at the top.

“I don’t know Mr. Shaw,” Benney answered, puzzled.

“Why so pensive?” asked Jennifer, “you’ve been in your own little world all evening.” He toyed with his grape nut pudding which she had insisted he try.

“I’m twenty-five,” he blurted out.

“Yes?” she said, bringing him out of his repose. He had tried to shake it. This was important, it was their first real date and he was so lost in his own thoughts that he had ignored her.

“It’s something at work,” he explained, putting down his spoon and looking at her. Jennifer was wearing a black satin dress, off the shoulders. He had seen the dark stockings and envisioned black underwear beneath the dress. Her long hair had been wrapped in a bun at the back of her head. A single strand of pearls adorned her neck. ‘How could he ignore this beautiful creature.’

Fable
Fable
41 Followers