A Turn

I feel a familiar mouth around my cock as I blink the sleep out of my eyes. "urgh..." is the most I can say while the day is still being felt across the rest of my body. I yawn and stretch my arms and legs in turn, my cock hardening more in June's mouth. I feel her smile and she looks up from her most recent attempt to drain me of cum. God, she's beautiful. I'm lost in her wide eyes, her cherubic cheeks, full lips... With a start, I remember my side of the deal "That cock's not going to suck itself, bitch", I sneer. She dives on my cock with renewed enthusiasm, and my eyes roll back as her tongue lashes the head of my penis. I felt my balls tighten...

What the fuck did I do to end up here?

I'm a normal guy. The most exceptional thing about me is that I'm a bit taller than average, and with fewer friends. I'm 35 years old, 6 foot 2 inches tall, and heavier than doctors recommend. I've been in the same dead-end job for 15 years, in a water company where I'm a glorified receptionist, where everyone treats me like shit. My name's Mike. I think I'm a nice person. I used to do normal things, like going to the cinema, all the time. I still do normal things, most of the time.

My shift at the office finished at 2 am, so I guess I'm out on the street at about 2:30 in the morning. My office is just off a strip of nasty bars and nightclubs beloved by the city's youth. By 2:30, the streets are a mess of staggering drunken assholes. I'd walk the long way around to get to my apartment but I do love watching the hot young girls bopping about in their club wear.

I'm so tired.

I wander through the mess of bare flesh, slurred declarations of love/hate, and suspect meat snacks, to head home, fast. Ahead, I see four athletic-looking drunk guys in recently stained polo shirts sneering at someone I can't see. They look like every popular kid that bashed me at school, fixated on some unfortunate. I figure I don't need to avoid them. Anyway, I'm too tired to add the distance of crossing the street to my journey. I head towards them, watching the pavement in front of me.

As I get closer, I see a broken high-heel shoe by a concrete planter with a tree sticking out of it, near where the sneering idiots are focused. This starts to look nasty.

"C'mon ... Jim's the driver, he hasn't had a drink all night!" slurs the largest of the idiots, indicating another idiot, who's struggling to focus.

"No... I'm fine jush here..." comes a slurred woman's voice from next to the planter, now next to me. I look down to find the voice's owner.

She's a mess of bare skin, sequins, and ruined makeup. Her remaining shoe is a glittering strappy thing with a heel that looks about 6 inches long, or maybe it's her legs. Her legs go forever and seem to make up about 2/3 of her body. Wait, there are some arms in there too, they're just all tangled together.

I pause for a minute and survey the damage. She doesn't look badly hurt but she's moving slowly and awkwardly; her head slowly rolls on her neck until she's looking at me. She's stunning, in a tragically drunk kind of way.

She squints at me a bit. I can see she's clearly spent some time in a gym, with defined muscles across her whole body. She looks barely legal to get a drink.

"Hey you, fuck off! We saw her first!" yells the bigger idiot. I think he means me, I turn to face him. Given the hour, I've already got my resting bitch face on.

"So?"

"So fuck off before we smash you!" snarls the bigger idiot, he definitely means me. The other three idiots start to puff themselves up. They're in pretty good shape and close to half my age.

"I'm jush gonna go..." drawls the drunk girl, and she begins to unfold, and drag herself up and around the concrete planter. Muscles start rippling under her skin as she rises and she takes on the form of a slender, hard-bodied athlete. Not athletic - something more focused. She stumbles where her shoe used to be.

The bigger idiot lunges in and grabs her arm as if she were falling.

"LET GO OF MEEEEE!" she shrieks

"I've got you, it's OK..." coos the bigger idiot and starts to pull on her arm.

"Let go of her, now", I state. Nothing is resting in me, now.

The bigger idiot wheels on me in a moment, throwing a huge hook with the right hand he'd grabbed the girl with a moment earlier.

Some reflexes I trained in my youth fail to fire much and I duck into it, I think. Adrenaline spikes and time slows down.

I'm crouched low. He's still reaching high, momentum carrying him around like a top. I see my target, his liver, and I hit it hard.

Time speeds up.

I hit him in the body a few times and as he begins to slump, I grab his head in my right hand and launch it at the planter, the thump it makes doesn't sound great for him.

The bigger idiot is still on his feet, barely. The smaller idiots are fixed in place, staring.

I take a moment to breathe, it's been a while. Blood drips from his face. All I can see is an asshole that bullied me in high school. I grab his head again and smash him face-first into the concrete planter. I hear the crunch of his nose breaking and blood splashes all over his face, his shirt, the planter, and the ground; he drops to the ground where the girl had been slumped. His face is a bloody wreck and his polo has a lot of new stains.

"The smartest move you three could make is to take your friend to the hospital... NOW!"

The idiots aren't feeling puffy any longer and mutter something and slowly move over to the groaning bigger idiot.

The girl slips off her shoe and walks around to me, mostly steadily, on bare feet.

"We should go," she says, as she leads me away from the scene of the crime.

"That was a mess. I'm glad you were here, though. Thank you." she says once we're clear.

"Um, yeah. I... I don't do that sort of thing" I stammer. The adrenaline is coming off in a hurry.

My head hurts. I think that guy clipped my head with his punch.

"Can I call you a cab?", I offer.

"Don't worry about it. I only live a few minutes away, I'm on James Street"

"I'm heading that way too, I could walk with you, if you'd like"

"Thanks... I'm not usually like this" she says, quietly. Her speech is clearer and quieter, now.

"Not like this, how?", I ask.

"I don't go out partying... I don't get drunk and go to clubs dancing or get guys to fight over me... I just don't." she looks at the ground as she walks. I don't know if she's telling me or herself.

I sneak a look at her as we walk. She's wearing a sequinned black one-piece clubbing outfit. it's hotpants with two big straps that go around her neck like a halter top. It suits her and it shows off her hard body well. As I go back to staring at the pavement, I wonder what magic tape kept her boobs inside when she was slumped on the ground. She seems to have little tits; I wonder if that makes it easier or harder to conceal them under that top...

"This is me" she announces as we arrive at a massive apartment tower. The lobby is dark, dingy, and empty.

"Could you walk me up, please?" she gives me her puppy dog eyes, which probably works on her parents. Turns out, it works on me, too.

"Sure," I say, and follow her in.

We get to the fourth floor, down a grimy corridor, to her door.

She opens the door and walks straight in - then a lot of things happen very fast.

"HimumthisguysavedmefrobeinggangrapedandwalkedmehomeI'mgoingtobedgoodnightIloveyou" the girl says to her mother, vanishes through a doorway, and closes it behind her.

Mum pauses mid-way through sipping a beer on the couch to look at who's come in the door.

I realize mum is possibly the sexiest woman I've ever seen.

Momentum carries me through the door.

Heat from inside the apartment washes over me like a wave. It's tropical in here.

The door closes behind me.

In truth, the only thing I'm sure of, is that mum is smoking hot. I'm trapped in this apartment until I can politely leave. The rush of many senses competing for my attention stops me in my tracks.

"Hi, I'm June. I don't think Zoe mentioned your name. What was she talking about ... 'raped'? Did someone hurt her?" June asks in a tone that starts mild and ends up on the edge of threatening.

"Um ... I'm Mike... I think the only injury was to her shoes, maybe my head" I stammer. My senses are starting to form a queue. Damn, she's gorgeous - like a pin-up stepped off a poster and pulled on some little pajamas, sitting on the couch. Her pajamas are a loose crop top and some board shorts. She could have been wearing a potato sack and she would have looked amazing. June pulls herself off the couch and takes the two steps across the tiny apartment towards me.

All I can think of is not to stare at her tits. Under her thin top, her buoyant tits are moving around to their own rhythm as she walks, and her nipples look like they're trying to find a weak point in the thin fabric.

"I know it's late but could you tell me what happened tonight? Zoe has a huge day tomorrow and she'll already be asleep."

"I can offer you a beer..." she adds hopefully, her eyes as big as dinner plates.

"OK, sure, I guess"

June fetches me a beer out of the back of the fridge and I watch her ass press into the flimsy shorts as she reaches in. She is divine! June looks a few years younger than me but her ass is pert, tight but round and smooth ... I can feel my cock hardening in my pants.

She beckons me over to the couch and curls up in one corner with her beer and pats on the couch next to her. There's space for my generous frame, barely.

Opposite, a muted TV is playing "Star Wars".

I give her a blow-by-blow description of everything that happened, even not-totally-necessary bashing of the idiot's face into the planter.

June pauses and sips her beer again, closing her eyes. I wonder what her boyfriend looks like, I wonder what he might say about me sitting here... I wonder what her tits look like under her top. Her eyes flick open, at last.

"Oh! I love this scene" June pipes up, and un-mutes the TV. 'Luke' is flying about in space. I like this scene and watch it for a moment.

My head hurts, my back hurts, my neck hurts... I appear to be waking up... Nothing feels normal... My arm's still asleep... My pillow's wet. My pillow's warm and very soft and smooth...

"There you are..." coos a female voice.

June... My brain starts whizzing into action and I sit up with a start. June has a broad smile on her face and regards me gently, "Did you have a nice nap?", she asks.

I realize that I'm still on the couch at her place, "Star Wars" credits are rolling, and my saliva appears to have left a wet patch on her pajamas, over her tits. James Bond, I am not.

"I think we both dozed off, we should get some rest" June offers, to break the ice that's suddenly formed.

I hastily agree and start collecting my coat and bag.

"What's your phone number?", June asks.

I rattle it off mechanically, as she writes it down. "Why?"

"No daughter of mine is going pull that damsel in distress routine and leave it at 'thanks'. That's all she said isn't it?", using her 'disappointed mother' tone.

"yes" I feel like a snitch.

"Expect that she'll call you and offer to make you dinner; it's the least we can do. Unfortunately, it's also the most we can do. She's a great cook so you should take her up on it", June announces. I realize that I'll be back in this apartment, soon. June announced it, it will happen.

The next afternoon, a new number appears on my ringing phone, I answer. Zoe thanks me again for saving her and, as her mother had announced, she invites me to dinner at their apartment. She asks after my favorite meal (a lamb roast and baked spuds) and points out clearly, and repeatedly, that June will not be cooking.

This "thank you" dinner has me rattled. I don't go to dinner with beautiful women. Not occasionally, not ever. The only fact saving me from a nervous meltdown is that I'm going to dinner with mother and daughter... The timing's awkward, too - I've got an early shift to follow so I can't stay too late. I tell myself that I don't need to worry. It's not a date - Zoe has been instructed by her mother to make me dinner. Not a date.

As evening rolls around, I find myself dressed a bit more nicely than average (wearing a shirt, with a collar, and my jeans without holes), buzzing Zoe and June's apartment. Zoe lets me in to the building and is waiting in the doorway of her apartment when I get to their floor. The corridor is filled with the smell of roasting lamb. Zoe's wearing a university team tracksuit and the vibrant complexion of youth and unusually good health, and a massive toothy grin. She runs down the corridor and gives me a huge hug; It feels like the embrace of an anaconda. I wonder if her hugs leave bruises.

"Thanks again, Mike! I've made dinner, just pull it out of the oven when the timer goes. I have to help Barbie upstairs. I can't stay, running late. Thanks again! Mum shouldn't cook anything." she says in one breath, and plants a big kiss on my cheek. "You're awesome Mike! Goodniiiiiiight!" and the lift door closes between us... I'm a bit dazed. I turn back to Zoe's apartment and realize that it will just be June and I having dinner now... I pray to a God, that I don't put my foot in my mouth.

I find the door to the apartment wide open, it's really warm in there, again. I call out to June. "Hi Mike, sit down, I'll be out in a moment..." comes June's voice from the door inside the apartment. I close the front door behind me and try out a chair at their little table, and instantly regret my decision. Before I can move, June emerges from what appears to be the bedroom.

I thought she looked good in shabby pajamas, but it's nothing on what she's wearing tonight. It's not complex so it doesn't distract from her amazing curves. It's just a simple white dress, with some thin straps over her shoulders, supporting and mostly covering her generous breasts. The dress hugs her body to her hips and hangs loosely down to just above her knee; from there there's just perfectly formed legs and some towering heels that complete the outfit. I'm suddenly very clear that I look like crap and she would look at home on a magazine cover, if they still existed.

"Hi Mike, you scrub up well!", she lies. "I didn't know what to wear... I wanted to make the right impression but Zoe thought all my ideas were terrible and picked this out. Do I look OK?" As June speaks, she swishes back and forth, striking different poses, and playing with her dress as she goes. She's mesmerizing. As I watch June, my eyes take in every perfectly turned curve. Her swishing dress shows flashes of legs that have been sculpted by a master.

"Yes, you look amazing" I understate, criminally.

June settles down her show and fetches me a glass of wine and we exchange pleasantries, news of the day, and banal small talk.

The timer on the oven pings.

June pulls a small, but perfectly formed, lamb roast out of the oven and serves up a lamb roast that any restaurant would be proud to serve. It's not particularly fancy but it's about as good as home cooking gets. Mentally, I apologize to my late mother - this is much better than she was capable of.

June brings some plates over to a little table. It's barely big enough for our plates. It takes a minute to figure out how to arrange our feet so they don't end up on top of each other.

"Zoe said she'd gone to see 'Barbie' upstairs. Who's Barbie?" I ask, as we set upon our meals.

"Barbie's a friend of Zoe's, who lives in one of the nice places upstairs. She's lovely but basically lives by herself in a massive apartment. Zoe stays there one or two nights a week, usually"

"A couple of nights a week? Maybe they're more than just friends?"

"I don't think so. She'll tell me if something is going on. It's technically Barbie's parent's place but they're never here so she has it all to herself. Zoe helps her a lot with studying and I think Zoe likes the space to spread out her things for school. There's not much space here."

I ask about Zoe - it turns out she's 19 and an over-achiever - sports scholarship to university, academic prize winner, and more. June is proud of her and it shows, she seems to glow when she talks about her daughter. They moved here recently so Zoe could take up a sports scholarship, and Zoe this, and Zoe that...

June asks about me and it feels like a trap...

"There's not much to tell. I'm an orphaned 35 year old loner..." I confess. I'm pretty sure this is that moment when it's a fast path to the exit.

"Wow. We're like the same person. I don't go out, I'm 34, and an orphan, too" June offers, brightly.

"My parents died in a car crash a few years ago, yours?", I ask.

"Shot, when I was four. Things didn't get much better from there."

No one seems to know what to say after that. So far as date night conversation goes, I realize, this is as bad as it gets.

"State care ... was bad. Later was ... worse. Zoe and I haven't had it easy."

I was wrong.

June changes gear, "Why did you hurt that guy? He was beaten, Zoe told me his friends had given up the fight. You could have just walked away."

"I ... I don't know", I lie.

June calls me on it, "I think you know. Zoe sure thinks she does"

"I guess... I just wanted to hurt him. I wanted to be the bully, for a change", I say.

"I was hoping that was the answer"

June is no end of surprises.

"You feel better that I'm an asshole who bashes people?"

"Yes. Mike, I really like you. You're polite and nice, and you took care of my girl when she needed you. You take pleasure in hurting people". She pauses.

"Some men would have raped her, or me, or expected money or blow jobs, or something. Even more, if they're the people who are bullies. You didn't"

"June, that means I'm not a total asshole. I'm mostly an asshole."

"I've known a lot of terrible people, Mike. I'm glad you're not one of them."

"Thanks, I guess"

"Mike, I need to tell you something. I'm not well."

June continues down the rabbit hole, "The state care home I was in wasn't normal. They used us kids as guinea pigs in a crazy experiment. The government eventually broke it up, but It fucked us all up. Most of us took refuge in drugs; the drugs never stuck with me but I still got messed up, in here", June taps her head. "Most of the others ODed". I expect she's going to offer me a red pill soon. At some point, the Mad Hatter will turn up and the Queen will shout "OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!!!"

June continues, "I need to know something, I need you to be honest with me. This is important."

I wait...

"Would think about a relationship with me, or do you just want to fuck me and ghost me?" she asks

I'm dumbstruck. My jaw drops open. It takes a while before I remember to do things, like blink, or breathe.

"It's OK, Mike. You can fuck me tonight, anyway."

"June, I..." I'm still working on the rest of that sentence... June is watching me like a hawk. The rational bit of my brain breaks through with a plan.

"June, only a crazy person would ghost you"

She seems very pleased with this non-answer.

"If you want to fuck me anyway, what's so important?" I ask, wondering why we're still talking...

"If we have a relationship, I need you to dominate me. If you don't, things could get ugly." OK, we can talk a minute more.

"What do you mean 'ugly'?" I ask, with some trepidation.

"My ex-boyfriend was a lovely guy and a great job - so sweet and thoughtful and generous. He was my first try at a healthy, normal relationship, and I destroyed his life."

"what's 'destroyed'?"

"He's a hopeless drug addict who lives under a bridge, across the country", June clarifies.

"Do you think you can dominate me? We can try tonight and if it doesn't work out, you can just ghost me then, I guess."