Almost Melting the Frost Pt. 01

This story is in the most part, a true story, based mostly on real occurrences, with a small amount of poetic licence, and of course, the names have been changed to protect the guilty. Because of its length, I have divided it into two distinct parts and should be read in sequence, despite my desire to have a story 'free standing' without prerequisite reading, real life isn't like that is it?. So here is Part 1.

This is a story of a man, a divorced man, a man with a conscience, with scruples, in effect, a thoughtful man. Impossible I hear you say. No such man exists, I also hear you say. But he does! I know this man, as well as I know myself.

jack_ffrost

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Jake fiddled with his cap some more, not improving the look. The mirror showed the silly elasticated cap covering all his hair and making his ears stick out even more prominently than they already did. The light cotton of the blue recycled material clashing with the dark brown of his eyes but matching the silly robe made of the same material that he was made to wear. Then there was the silly elasticated over-shoe things on his feet completing the ensemble designed to remove any form of style at all. Not that he was a slave to fashion at all, though at 38 and recently divorced, fashion was something that he hadn't worried about for some time, but he thought that might have to change in the near future; but still, there were limits to some things surely. Ah well, he thought, perhaps this was part of the penance that he had to serve.

Jake looked around the rest of the dressing room of the Trauma Clinic, and out through the large window to the rest of the penance he had elected to suffer. One drink too many had almost cost him his licence. It was community service or no licence, and the Trauma Clinic was the preferred option, although looking at some of the cases that had been wheeled in while he had been waiting, he wasn't sure if this was a good idea now. He was a strong supporter of the anti-drink drive campaign, and he supposed that this was to show him what could happen if he erred again. Tough justice? Probably!

A Trauma Nurse entered the room wearing the normal green scrubs he had seen on TV. She smiled when she saw his discomfort and his difficulty trying to make the shapeless sack sit over his large 6ft 2in frame.

"Mr Frost? You'll be working with Frank today, another one of your lot!" she said with a hint of a derisive tone. "Come with me and I'll take you to your post. You and Frank will be cleaning up the rooms after we have finished with each case ready for the next one. One of the junior nurses will instruct the two of you"

He followed her to a glass encased room, and saw what must obviously be Frank as there was no-one else wearing the silly blue, obviously disposable coverings. As he approached, it was also obvious that either Frank wasn't this person's real name, or he had a bad case of soft rounded lumps on his chest and two very attractive blue eyes.

"Frankie..." she said, thrusting out her hand "Frank for short... anything but Francesca OK?" she added, smiling.

"Frost..." he replied "Jake to my friends.."

"Jake Frost?...." she queried, One finger went forward, pointing, and smile appeared on her face, but he cut her off before she could say what she was obviously going to say.

"Yeah yeah,... Jake Frost...Jack Frost... I get it all the time... I wouldn't mind a dollar..etc etc." he said also smiling.

The morning passed quickly in the very busy trauma clinic, highlighted by his constant exits to the toilets to vomit. Whoever thought up this drink-driver rehab program certainly knew what they were doing. He and Frankie went to lunch together, not that he could bring himself to eat anything, but anything to get away from the blood and the gore of the cleanup.

Out of the shapeless cover-alls, he noticed that Frankie actually had a shape. The breasts that had been mere lumps under the material were now curved and voluptuous, somewhere around a D cup he surmised. Frankie wasn't a thin woman, but then wasn't fat either, and she talked quite freely over her lunch. He sat there, only able to sip water, watching her mouth move and her blue eyes smile, and the occasional peek at her cleavage that was only barely on show but visible each time she leaned a little forward. He was careful not to get caught looking.

The afternoon passed much as the morning had, up to their elbows in stained cloth, blood soaked floors and mops and buckets. Come the next morning he was not looking forward to the day, and vowed then and there to be more responsible, and never touch another drop of alcohol. He knew the last bit was impossible but he was certain he would never go through this again. Perhaps it was the desensitization of the previous day, or maybe the semi sleepless night he had had, haunted by the images of the previous day, but the morning didn't seem as bad as his first. He only vomited once, and at lunch time, he actually thought he might try a sandwich.

He and Frankie had exchanged a few pleasantries during the morning as they moved between rooms, not always working together, but enough to add the odd comment or smile. At lunch, he was again amazed that she had a shape that had been hidden by the disposable trauma outfit. Today she was in a skirt rather than the jeans of yesterday, and the ribbed brown top she had on, clung a little tighter, showing off her curves to better advantage. The neckline was modest, but had a deeper V than yesterday's, so his view of her cleavage was enhanced slightly each time she looked away or down to her food.

She too, had had a few drinks too many 6 months previously and had lost her driver's licence. In addition, her penance was 120 hours of service at the centre, which was coming to an end and she could then re-apply for her licence again. Jake had only earned himself 40 hours service which he would do all this week having taken a week off work to do so. They chatted over a sandwich, and he found out that she was divorced from her husband who she had been unfaithful to and that she had a 6 year old daughter who spent every second month with her father. Jake's two children were in their mid-teens and he had brought them up on his own since their Mother had run off and left them ten years earlier. He found it difficult to explain to Frankie why it had taken him so long to finally get a divorce, and stammered on about focusing life on his kids and their needs for so long. In truth, it had been his ex-wife who had broached the subject and wanted to finalise the process. Not that he had still loved her or anything, it just seemed so unnecessary.

The next morning while he shaved, Jake found himself looking forward to the day, but wondered why. If he was true to himself, he had to admit to looking forward to lunchtime rather than the gory, bloody environment. This actually puzzled Jake somewhat, because despite Frankie being a lovely woman, to the best of his knowledge there didn't seem to be any spark there between them. Jake knew that he had been cursed by what female friends deemed an impossibility in a male, a conscience. He had had difficulty all his life and could never bring himself to have a one-night stand. He believed that sex for sex sake wasn't for him. Sex, or making love as he preferred to think of it as, was something reserved for someone you cared for, an extension of how you felt. Sure, as a younger man he had been aroused by women other than his wife, but knew he could never act on them. Even now at 38, he had a smattering of porn magazines and of course, there was the internet that he could amuse himself with, but to actually go out and make love to someone without any feelings involved was not how he thought. It wasn't a religious thing, nor was it a superiority thing, it was just....Jake!

With these thoughts circling in his head, Jake's morning passed by a little slower than he realised, and by lunchtime he was checking the clock every fifteen minutes to find that the hands had only moved two. Frankie had mentioned in passing about running off straight after her day at the centre, as she was heading off to a party some distance away, but when she walked into the lunch room at the Hospital, he wondered what sort of party she was going to. The brown leather hi heeled boots stopped just short of the knee, with a long expanse of shapely leg before the appearance of the hem of the matching brown leather mini skirt that barely seemed to cover her panties. Above that was a beige cotton blouse with a scooped neck that allowed most of the top half of her D cups breasts to be out on display. They wobbled and swayed as she walked towards him, the long dangly earrings, necklace and makeup having been just now applied to complete the ensemble. She wasn't thin, but the curves were in all the right places, and at about 5 foot 6 inches tall, had all the male eyes upon her as she crossed the room smiling.

Lunch went by, sandwiches were eaten, yet the conversation was somewhat stilted as Jake stammered and tried not to look at her breasts which were even more displayed with Frankie leaning forward; elbows on the table. The wide expanse of soft curvaceous skin was trying to draw his eyes towards them as surely as the mythical Sirens had drawn men to their watery doom on the rocks of their desires. He stared into her eyes, flicked them around the room, and she didn't seem to be looking away as much as she had on other days, was she trying to catch him looking? As much as he had been looking forward to lunchtime, and even with the glorious view before him, he couldn't wait for it to be over, he would be very embarrassed to get caught staring at them.

The afternoon went quickly and after a quieter afternoon, he removed his outer protective suit and dropped it into the refuse container and made his way for the exit. As he approached, Frankie came out of another dressing room, pulling the short leather skirt down a few extra millimeters. She smiled and fell into step with him as he walked towards the exit. Standing side on to her, he could see almost all of the breast farthest away from him and was rewarded with a lovely wave motion across the top of her breasts. Having almost collided with the door post; he opened the door and bowed playfully allowing Frankie to pass.

"Thank you kind sir... I see chivalry is not dead." She toyed.

"No... but I think it is sick...perhaps it's on life-support somewhere" he countered.

She unlocked the door of her small Mitsubishi sedan and he reached out gallantly to open the car door for her.

"Allow me!" he said in his best upper class accent

"But of course" she said, mimicking him.

As much as he might like to think he was being chivalrous, he knew there was an excellent opportunity to look down on Frankie's chest from above as she got into the car. He was not disappointed. He saw right down to the lace of the bra she was wearing and the wide space between the two breasts and they jiggled as she climbed into the vehicle. The lovely curves of her breasts were visible as they not only curved up and over the top, but curved forward towards a point that he felt sure would have a lovely nipple at the end, but was now covered by the black lace of the bra she wore. What was not totally unexpected was a quick flash of the black lace of her panties as she put first one leg inside the car, then the other. The black lace contrasted against the soft white skin of her upper thighs, made possible by the shortness of her skirt. When she looked back up at him, her face was a little red and she made her hasty goodbyes and drove away.

After their third trip to the toilet, Jakes kids were now tucked up for the night. It was 11pm as he climbed into his own bed, naked as he usually slept, and flicked on the TV in the bedroom, but he didn't really look at it. Playing over in his mind like a VCR was the images of Frankie's breasts from lunchtime and from the end of the day. He revisited them in his mind remembering their shape and curve and he especially liked the way they wobbled and jiggled slightly when she walked and moved. His penis reacted at the thought and his hand went to it as the images played in his head. He imagined what the nipples might look like, what they might feel like in his fingers, in his mouth. He imagined what it might feel like to rub his now hard cock between the cleavage he held so clearly in his mind. He ached between his legs and considered reaching for the magazines in the bottom drawer to help with the relief, but decided he would just lay there and think about the images until he fell asleep. He lay there for some time before succumbing to sleep.

His second last day at the Trauma Clinic seemed a little different. Frankie hardly spoke to him all morning, but then, she was very busy in one of the other rooms, but there was something else; she wouldn't hold eye contact with him. He swore under his breath. She had obviously caught him ogling her breasts like some slob yesterday, and despite all the things they had talked about over lunch in the last three days, he had come across as a sex crazed idiot only interested in her tits! He had to ask himself is that was the truth or not, and while they were certainly very pleasing to the eye, and to the imagination as well, he didn't really harbour any strong feeling towards her, he just liked to look. He had come full circle and was now sure that he must have been caught looking at her. He remembered Frankie looking up at him when he helped her into the car and he remembered the red face and swore at himself again. This was obviously what it was all about.

At lunch, Jake was sitting eating his sandwich when Frankie came up and sat down. She had a shortish skirt on and a top that didn't display as much as yesterday's but still gave a very pleasing picture. She sat down opposite him, their eyes not meeting. She toyed with a bit of lettuce sticking out of the side of the sandwich as a couple of minutes ticked away in silent dread for Jake.

"Jake..." she said, "... can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure" he said, a little nervous. Here it comes, he thought.

"Are you....Gay?"

"What?... No..." came the puzzled reply, "Why?"

"Well..." she went on, seemingly fascinated with the piece of lettuce, "... Today is Thursday; I thought we got on really well on Monday, and again on Tuesday. I wore my new top on Tuesday... then yesterday....I ...er...wasn't really going to a party" She looked up at him, then down to the piece of lettuce again, "I thought my new top on Tuesday was a bit revealing, but you never looked once, so yesterday I put on my sexiest outfit, and ...well... I saw you look once or twice, a little... and thought... you are either really good at peeking and not getting caught...or you were gay." She finished, looking into his eyes.

Jake smiled at her, and reddened slightly, "I...er...think I'm pretty good at it" he admitted, not knowing what else to say.

She smiled at him, somewhat relieved.

"Well...like I said, we got on ok, we talked and stuff, and you told me on Monday that you were divorced and that you weren't seeing anyone...and... I thought...what with the outfit yesterday...I... wondered...why you hadn't made a pass at me...or even asked me out for a drink...or...something" Suddenly the piece of lettuce had become very interesting again. "I thought that with what was on show, you would ask me...if you weren't gay that is."

Here was a dilemma he had never faced before. Usually he got into trouble for peeking or even blatantly looking at women's bodies, or at least parts of them. Now, here was a woman that he was going to have to tell that he had been ogling her from the beginning, secretly and enjoying what he saw, so as not to hurt her feelings! He tried to get his head around the difficulty and thought that in such a case as this, blatant honesty was probably the best policy.

"I am not Gay...believe me, I am so incredibly not Gay" he started, looking her squarely in the eye to emphasise the point. She smiled again and looked back at him "I think you are a very attractive woman, and I have to admit...I have been looking at you... especially yesterday...here at the table...and getting into the car...damn...how could I not? I am a very shy person, perhaps it's the low self esteem, or the fear of rejection, but I have trouble taking things to the next step... not that I wanted to...you know..." He breathed out hard. "Sorry, I am mucking this up big time. I think you're nice...very nice... and I have a good time talking with you at our lunches...and... I have to admit to some... thoughts of...yesterday's outfit and...things...sometimes..." he stammered, digging himself into a hole.

"Oh really?... Do tell!" she demanded, one eyebrow perched higher than the other in mock indignation.

The supervising Nurse walked in at that moment looking for them both and saved Jake from the last question. They donned their outfits once more and went back to their tasks, Jake feeling a little better after the talk at lunchtime. Jake loitered at the exit when he had finished but Frankie was gone. One of the nurses told him Frankie had had to leave earlier and pick her daughter up from school, after skinning a knee or something. As he drove home, he examined his feelings. There wasn't the 'spark' with Frankie that he had felt with others he had relationships with, but she was a lovely woman. He enjoyed the time they spent together, liked to let her talk about herself and her days, but...but what, he wondered? As politically incorrect as it was these days to objectify women, she was certainly pleasing to the eye. She had curves in all the right places, dressed nicely, seemed a very sexy woman, and she was a refreshingly independent, forthright woman, but didn't mind showing off the merchandise to get what she wanted. And those breasts! But ...what about the 'spark'? Without that, did he want this to go any further? Could it go any further? How far was he prepared to take this to see if anything were to come from it? Yet, as noble as all that sounded, he couldn't help thinking that it had been a long time between drinks for him.

The last day of his Community Service, Friday, came as a bit of a shock. Frankie wasn't there. Thinking she might have a problem with her daughter Jake asked one of the nurses, only to be told that Frankie's time was up. She had gone and not said goodbye. The morning dragged and lunchtime too was a drag; the only highpoint was that this would be his last afternoon. As he walked out at the end of the day, he knew that, that was one part of his life that he wouldn't repeat. He climbed into his car and was about to move off when an idiotic driver pulled up in front of him, blocking his way. He wound the window down to yell out for them to move, only to discover Frankie sitting in her car smiling at him.

"My place 7.30pm" she said, shoving a piece of paper at him through the window with her address on it. "I need some help with something." she said, then climbed back into her car and drove off before Jake could say anything.

No matter how much Jake scrubbed in the shower, it was hard to remove the antiseptic smell that permeated all of his orifices. His kids had noticed it on the first day and he wanted to get rid of that smell, it reminded him of....Frankie. He was surprised by the thought, having initially thought of the blood and the mess. Showered shaved and shampooed, he made his way to Frankie's house and knocked at the door. A little sing song voice called out from inside, and the door opened. Frankie stood before him in jeans and a t shirt. It didn't take him long to realise that she wasn't wearing a bra; the cooler outside air made here nipples retract and press forward. Her larger unfettered breasts hung a little lower than usual but still pressed forward quite appealingly.