Jennifer Was the Beginning

[This is a story about making the best of circumstances that seem to come to us. It includes sex between a man and a woman, two women, a man and two women but no anal. It is about loving more than one person. It includes a bit of incest, a little violence and an automobile accident. No cheating wives, no cheating husbands, and no pets. Please enjoy and then vote and leave a comment. I'd like to know what you think of the story.]

First impressions

When I saw her for the first time I was sitting on a bus bench waiting for my ride to work. It was my first day riding the bus to work. A drunk had totaled my car the day before and I was without wheels for the day. She was walking towards me on the sidewalk. I looked because I heard her heels clacking on the sidewalk.

What I saw should have dropped my mouth open. My training in my parent's home stopped that from happening. Their training didn't stop my thoughts. The way she walked was what I would call a strut. She was wearing a teal dress that was the picture of summer. It flared out from her small waist and left her legs uncovered from mid-thigh down to the teal high heel sandals clacking on the sidewalk. At her waist the dress held to her waist by a shiny metal belt. Above the belt the dress held close to her body up to her barely covered breasts. Her upper chest was bare, showing a bit of cleavage and three thousand freckles covering all the exposed skin up to her shoulder length strawberry blond hair.

I memorized everything about her as she walked, until I heard another noise. I heard the squeal of car brakes! My vision widened and I saw the M7 BMW climb the curb and head for her! The driver looked scared to death and before I could even yell, the BMW hit her from behind. It was like watching a movie in slow motion. I saw the bumper hit the back of her calves, cut her legs from under her, tossing her up on the bonnet. Her butt hit the junction of the bonnet and the windscreen and that slammed her upper body back and her head hit the top of the windscreen frame. The windscreen shattered and the car slammed into the building next to the sidewalk.

Before thinking, I ran to the car, noticing blood coming from the back of the woman's head and the broken legs hanging beneath the dress. When I was closer I saw that the driver had slammed his head into the steering wheel and was unconscious. Blood was dripping off his nose.

I called 911 and told the operator what had happened. I was told not to touch either person and the EMT's would be there soon. As I hit the end button I heard the loud approach of the EMT van. In seconds they were all over the situation, working on both injured people. About a minute later a police car arrived and two uniformed officers began taping off the scene and interviewing the three people who saw what had happened. I told my story to Officer McMillan and then to a detective in a tweed jacket a while later. I listened as one of the uniforms called in on his radio. The driver was a Thomas Jenkins, 15, and the car he was driving was registered to a Mrs. Estelle Jenkins. The woman in teal was Jennifer Olsen, unmarried, 28, being transported to Harbor UCLA Hospital.

The interviewing detective wanted to call my boss and get me a paid day off. Since I work for myself it wasn't necessary. He gave me a ride to the station house and videoed my statement. The detective was really a good guy. He called my insurance guy for me and got the agent to get me a car. He took me to the rental agency.

I drove that car to Harbor UCLA Hospital. I said I was Jimmy Olsen, Jennifer's brother. Jimmy was the first name that popped into my head. The receptionist didn't think about Superman or, if she did, she thought I had strange parents. She told me to go up to the third floor and a doctor would come talk to me.

An hour later a doctor in blue scrubs did come see me. He told me my sister had bruised some of her back and butt, broken both legs below the knees, and had a concussion. She had been in surgery and was in recovery. He said she would have a couple nasty scars on her legs but all in all she would fully recover.

As he got up to leave he said I could see her in an hour. A nurse would come get me.

For the hour I thought about what I would say to her. She wasn't my sister. As I thought about what to say to her without her thinking I was some crazy man the hour passed and I found myself following a nurse down the hall to Jennifer's room. The nurse didn't come into the room, she just said, "She's in here," tapped the door and kept walking.

I opened the door and stepped inside. She was half sitting in the bed, meaning it was cranked so she was elevated from her waist up. Her plaster encased legs were elevated with just her toes showing. Everything was white. The pillows, the sheets, the blankets, and the room were white. Her blond hair spread out on the pillow. Her eyes were closed.

I sat in the chair. I kept looking at her, feeling like a peeping tom. I had no business being in her room. I had no idea what I would say when she woke up.

She woke up. She scanned the room and when her eyes met mine she looked at me as if she expected me to be there.

Her voice was very soft, almost a whisper. "I thought it might be you."

"Hi. I know I don't belong here but... here I am. I'm Nick. I told the nurse downstairs I was your brother, Jimmy Olsen. Is there anyone I can notify that you're in the hospital?"

"You mean my husband, boyfriend, brother, mom and dad? No."

"Pardon me for saying it but that's hard to believe."

"Why?"

"I would think someone who looks like you would have a husband or a boyfriend close at hand."

"Oh, I did. I even had a sister, until this morning."

"Oh my God! What happened to her?"

"She was fucked this morning and last night by my boyfriend. Sorry. My ex-boyfriend, Mike."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"So am I but, as someone says, that's water under the bridge. Time to move on."

"Is that where you were going this morning, moving on?"

"No. I was on my way to the harbor so I could drown myself."

"But..."

"But what?"

"Well, you looked so confident as you walked towards me. You looked like someone who has their life together."

"That may be what you saw but that wasn't and isn't me. I have a dress, the heels I was wearing and a purse with about sixty-five dollars in it. Now I have no dress, no heels, twenty pounds of plaster on my legs and the doctor says I need to be off my feet for six to eight weeks." She took a big breath, "My life is shit."

"Where will you go?"

"My sixty-five dollars ought to get me to a dock in San Pedro. The casts ought to help me sink."

"That is not what you're going to do."

"Oh? What am I going to do? Use my sixty-five dollars to rent an apartment, buy food, and live off what's left for the next two months until the casts come off?" Her voice was strained.

"What about your real brother? Or your parents, friends, someone?"

"My parents haven't got anything more than twenty dollars and I can't ask them for anything. They tossed me out years ago. I don't have any other family and no friends. Mike didn't like the way men looked at me so we didn't go out. I worked in the office at his auto repair shop."

"Ok. Enough. I work hard at being positive and your story is bringing me down. I've got a better story."

"I really don't need your story."

"What I have is a story to replace yours. You were hit by a car this morning on your way to a new job. The owner of the car is going to buy you a new wardrobe and pay your hospital bills. The new job begins as soon as you are physically able to start and your new roommate will cover your rent and food until you get your first check."

"Great story. Too bad that's all it is."

"No, it's the truth. I have a business that needs someone to answer phones, do some light typing, the billings and filing. On your behalf I'll negotiate with the owner of the car so she gets you some clothes and pays the hospital bills. I live in a two bedroom condo so you can be my roommate until you start getting paid for working for me."

"I don't even know you."

"I don't know you either. Are you really so anxious to see the bottom of the harbor?"

"No." She closed her eyes and sat quietly for a long time. I stayed. I asked myself why I offered her so much. She was right, I didn't know her. What if she was one of those women who thought nothing of ripping off men for everything they could? If that was what she was, she had an odd way of getting suckers.

It just seemed like the right thing to do.

Doing the Right Thing

The next day she was discharged from the hospital and I took her to my place. Between offering her a job and getting her into my home I did some preparation so I reduced the risk of being ripped off. I put a limit on outgoing phone calls from my phone to calls within my area code only. I put all my credit card and checking information in the safe at my office. I put clean sheets on the bed in the spare bedroom and on my bed. I cleaned and vacuumed the entire place. I bought food and beverages to stock the kitchen. I bought a woman's robe and a nightgown that were pretty modest.

On the way home from the hospital Jennifer asked if I could stop and get her a couple of things. I asked what she needed, thinking I could tell her I had it at home. She said her period was due and she had nothing to use.

I stopped and got her what she asked for. I bought three boxes. I figured she was going to be off her feet for weeks, might as well be prepared.

At home I carried her into the house and got her comfortable on the couch. I made some tea and we talked. Not about much, just getting to know each other and logistical things about living together. Mobility was going to be a big issue for at least two weeks. Jennifer was to stay off her feet for the two weeks until her next appointment. That made getting to and from a bathroom difficult. We talked about possible solutions and some of the ideas we had were funny enough that we laughed. I said I would carry her to and from the bathroom. She blushed and said I could get a bucket and put kitty litter in it. I said I could move her bed next to the window and she could hang her butt out the window. We laughed at those ideas.

An hour later it was no longer a discussion, it was a need. I picked her up and took her into the bathroom. As I lowered her onto the commode she pulled the hospital gown out of the way. I left her for a couple of minutes until I heard the commode flush. When I came back I brought the nightgown and the robe. I had left the tags on the robe, in case I needed to take it back.

When Jennifer saw the robe she started to cry.

"Jennifer, why are you crying? Have I offended you?"

"I lived with Mike three months and he never bought me anything. He never asked if I needed anything. I've known you three days and you bought me a robe, a nightgown and Tampax."

"So, I did good?"

"Yes! You did good. Now turn around and let me change."

I turned and noticed that I was at the right angle to look in the mirror and watch without her seeing me do it. I could see her body but not her face. She took off the two hospital gowns they let her come home in and I saw lots of bruises and scrapes. I also saw two beautiful breasts. Jennifer was pale and slim with slightly-larger-than-handful sized breasts. What really got me were her nipples. They looked puffy, swollen, and were a beautiful dark pink. My reaction was to begin to harden. I looked away. It wouldn't be right hitting on her when she was pretty defenseless.

I carried her to the couch and we watched TV for a while. She put up with my programs, I think. When I shut it off she said, "Mike didn't have a TV. I heard him say TV was for people who didn't like to fuck."

The memory image of her bruises told me we would have TV for weeks. The bed closest to a bathroom was my bed. I carried her in and put her in it. I told her that if she needed the bathroom to call me. When I got to the door she said, "Nick, can I ask a favor?"

"You can ask."

"If you slept in your own bed you would sleep better and be closer if I needed your help."

"That's true, but what's the favor?" I was smiling. I wanted her to say it.

"It would be a favor to me, if you slept here with me."

"Oh. That. Well, OK. But I have rules. Rule number one, no jumping on the bed."

We both laughed.

"And rule number two?"

"No getting out of bed alone."

"And number three?"

"No secrets."

"OK. I accept."

My clothes came off, except for my underwear, and I got into my bed. My memory went back to the last time someone else had been in my bed. It was a fading memory but still strong enough to provoke a smile. Jennifer reached over and shut off the lamp and we settled in.

I was almost asleep when she spoke. Her voice was barely even a whisper. What she said had me believe she was talking more to herself than to me.

"I am so lost. I can't even get up to pee by myself. This guy offers me a job, a room, and now we're in bed together. My Mother would freak." Her breathing slowed and she twitched twice. She was asleep.

I woke to the soft sound of my name being called.

"Nick. Nick, I need to go."

"OK. Give me a sec." I got up. She turned on the lamp and I picked her up. In the bathroom I helped her sit and she let it go before I could even turn to leave.

"Sorry. I couldn't wait another second."

"I wonder why people think peeing is so private. We all do it. It sounds about the same from men and women."

"Probably because of where it comes out."

"Hmmmm. Done?"

She lifted her arms and I picked her up. I was glad she was so small and light. I put her back in bed and walked around to the other side. I got back in and could feel that the bed was still warm. Jennifer shut off the light and I heard the rustle of cloth. I opened my eyes and saw her drop the nightgown on the floor.

"It doesn't fit?"

"It fits fine for sitting on the couch or lounging in a chair. I've slept better nude since I was eleven and got these." She held her tits in her hands. I wished the light was still on.

"OK. I don't need to take the nightgown back?"

"Nope. I like it. What I like best is that you bought it without me asking for it."

"For a six to eight week convalescence I will need to get a few more. Now that I know what size to get it won't be difficult."

"Please, no more nightgowns. If it's Ok with you, I'd rather wear your t-shirts and be more comfortable."

"Sure?"

"Yes! Now let's sleep." She turned away from me and we both went to sleep.

The next time I woke up the phone was ringing. I sat up and Jennifer picked up the phone and handed it to me. It was my mother.

"You're not at work?" Sometimes my mother is more New York Jew in the way she speaks that anyone I've ever known. The voice tone and inflection are practiced and perfect. That four word sentence is at least a hundred words long.

"After my car was wrecked I needed a couple days."

"And?"

"And I've hired a new woman for the office. She can do the filing, answer the phone, typing and billing."

"What's her name?"

"Jennifer Olson."

"So. A goy."

"It's business, Ma."

"When does she start?"

"It might be a little while."

"You need help now."

"Yes, Ma. She will be in the office as soon as she's able."

"She's sick?"

"No. She was hit by a BMW three days ago."

"The driver was insured?"

"Yes."

"Good! Otherwise she's in debt forever. Who's her doctor?"

"Ma. Enough. You'll meet her. You'll like her. She's nice."

"How old?"

"Ma!"

"OK. You know a mother always worries."

"Ma. I love you. I'll call in a few days."

Jennifer had her hand over her mouth. She heard both sides of the conversation and wanted to laugh.

"Was that for real?"

"I sometimes think Billy Crystal is my brother. I love her, but sometimes..."

"What is she going to do when she finds out your sleeping with a non-Jew?"

"Probably go to confession!"

"Jews don't have confession!" She laughed.

"No. We have guilt! She'll be fine until the wedding. Relax."

"Whoa! You used the word wedding."

"I did. I joked. You aren't my type. You aren't my father's type. If I had a brother you wouldn't be his type either."

"And what is your type?"

"Short. Slightly dumpy. Makes Challah every Friday. Never wears heels."

"Liar! What is Challah?"

"Bread. Jews break it and eat it with dinner on Friday night. I love it."

"I could learn to make it."

"I'll bet you could." I flopped back in bed and lay there next to Jennifer. We were both uncovered to the waist. Out of the corner of my eye I watched her breasts move up and down as she lay next to me.

"Nick isn't a Jewish name."

"Nope. I changed my name while I was in the military. Too many people had trouble saying or spelling the name my parents gave me. Shlomo."

"I like Nick. It sounds like a name a private investigator would have."

"Thanks."

"Can I ask a personal question?"

"Yes. I may not answer, but you can ask."

"When I told you last night that Mike said TV's were for people who don't like to fuck, you didn't even make a mild pass at me."

"You have two legs in casts, bruises all over, a three day old concussion and scrapes. A brute might want to risk hurting you to fuck with you. I'll wait until you are better able to fight me off before I make a pass. I want to throw away the TV. I wanted to throw it away last night."

"OK. I don't think I'll fight you off. I appreciate having some time to mend first."

"I have some things I need to get done today. I'll work it out to be gone no more than three hours so I'm back often enough to help you pee. I want you to promise that wherever you are when I leave you'll still be right there when I get back."

"OK, Boss."

I dressed after a quick shower and asked Jennifer where she wanted to be for the next three hours. She opted for staying in bed.

I went to my office, made and answered calls for two and a half hours and then turned the answering machine on and went home. Jennifer was right where I left her.

"Can we hurry? I need to go."

We made it. As she went I realized I needed to go, too. I carried her back to bed and then I went. She called out, "How come you stay with me and then I don't get to watch?"

"I didn't know you wanted to watch."

"I do."

"Maybe next time. What would you like for lunch?"

"Challah"

"Not today. Second choice?"

"Ham and cheese on rye bread with spicy mustard and a great pickle."

"My mother would plotz!"

"Plotz?"

"Fall over dead, or at least fall over."

"Why?"

"Jews aren't supposed to eat pork or meat and dairy in the same meal."

"I could have the pickle?"

"Ok. A pickle and rye bread sandwich, coming up! You still want the mustard?"

"Wait! I'm not Jewish. Can't I have the whole sandwich?"

I smiled. "I'll go down the street and get you the sandwich. You like chips too?"

"No, thanks. A Diet Coke would be good."

"Right! I'll be back soon."

I was. Twenty minutes door to door. We sat on the bed and ate. When we were finished I took the top sheet, that we had used as a table cloth, and pulled it carefully from the bed. My intention was to take it outside and shake it. When I pulled it off the bed Jennifer made no move to close her legs or hide her treasure. I stopped and looked.

"I'm feeling better today."

"You look better today, too."

I took the sheet out and shook it. When I brought it back Jennifer had taken off my t-shirt and was holding her breasts.

"Could you help me? I want to see how the bruises on my chest are healing. Would you touch them?"

It had been a while since anyone had asked me to touch their tits. I sat on the bed near her and she released her breasts to me. I closely examined the right breast and touched each area of discoloration. She said, "Nope, doesn't hurt," each time.