Bag Lady & the Retired Marine Ch. 04bySusanJillParker©
Dave befriends a homeless woman by giving her money and feeding her.
With hands and feet flying too fast for the untrained eye to see and definitely too fast if you're the intended victim to defend against, as if it was a slight of hand, card trick that needed to be seen in slow motion to see it, appreciate it, and enjoy it, the noise stopped immediately. Almost before it even started, the altercation was over. Having trained these very techniques thousands of times at home, in the gym, in the Dojo, and in combat, these three men didn't stand a chance against Dave.
Even though Dave already told them what he'd do to them and what to expect, they had no time to react. Before the smallest of the men could even react by reaching up his hand to slice him with his knife, Dave struck as if grabbing a fly in mid flight. In the way that he hit the little man on the side of the head with such speed and with such force, his right knuckle hit a bull's-eye on his right temple and he was unconscious before he even hit the ground. As if it was all a choreographed danced, the offensive moves were seamless. Fluid in motion and all at the same time, as if he was Matt Damon in Born Identity fighting the Zurich police in fast speed, when his hand hit the first man, his foot was already kicking the second one.
He kicked the gun out of the biggest man's hand by hitting a pressure point in his forearm with his steel toed shoe and while fracturing his arm in the process. When the man watched his gun flying through the air instead of looking at Dave, stepping into him with an open handed chop to the throat, the man fell to the ground in pain with two hands to his neck and gasping for air. With a quick step and a side turn to the left, he moved seemingly without even thinking. As if he was a piston, squatting down and using his whole body to explode up with high pressured power, he flicked out his hand and doubled over the third man with a Karate shot with the heel of his hand to his solar plexus. Without having the time to even lift the pipe he was holding, down on the ground, it was a hit that would have stopped his heart had Dave hit him just a little higher and a little harder.
Over in three seconds with one knuckle, one kick, one chop, and one open handed hit, it wasn't much of a fight. They would have had more of a chance had there been two more of them. He picked up the gun and as if disassembling his weapon to clean it and reassemble it again, he removed the clip, emptied the chamber, and threw it all in a trash bin. Then, he picked up the knife and broke it in two against the brick wall and tossed that in the trash bin too. Unless they were willing to jump in there and root around with the rats and roaches, he didn't think they'd retrieve them to use on anyone else. It took him longer to disable the weapons than it did to disarm the three men.
The perfect scenario for him, he couldn't count how many men he's trained to face three, armed men in combat and these three, hapless men were just misfit, training dummies, and all with weapons that they didn't know how to use. First rule, never point a gun unless you're going to fire it and keep a knife close to your body, otherwise your attacker will just take it away and use it against you. Moreover, never give away your intentions, don't even flash a pipe until you're ready to use it. He guessed they didn't know any of that.
"Are you okay?"
Her shirt ripped wide open and her pants pulled down, he looked down at Susan on the ground nearly naked. With her big breasts exposed beneath her torn, open shirt and her pants down around her ankles to reveal her blonde pussy, flat stomach, and round ass, Dave felt as much sensitivity for the woman as he did lust. It had been a while since he had sex and he was horny by the naked views of her hot body. He put an arm beneath the woman to help her to her feet, while she bent at the waist to pull up her pants. Being that Dave likes big breasted, blonde women, even homeless women who looked at hot as she still did, even in her disheveled appearance, unable to advert his eyes from her nearly naked body, he watched her tits fall forward when she bent forward to pull up her pants.
He couldn't help himself from imagining those big tits hanging down in his face while he felt, fondled, and sucked them and before she blew him. Recoiling from his leering stare, no doubt knowing that he's already seen most of her naked body, she clutched her shirt closed in embarrassed shame and false pride, being that she was homeless and sleeping in a dirty doorway in an alley. She grimaced when she reached her hand up to try and do something with her hair while holding her blouse closed with her other.
"Yeah," she said looking up at him with shock, "thanks." She surveyed the three men motionless on the ground. "What happened to them? How did you do that so fast? I didn't even see you hit them."
"I needed to stop the noise. They were making too much noise," said Dave holding his hands over his ears while shaking his head as if he was a disappointed and disapproving parent. "They were giving me a terrible headache with all the noise they were making. Dave doesn't like noise."
"Dave? Who's the Hell is Dave? I thought you were alone," she said looking around the alley before taking a step away from him.
With a street smart look, she summed him up before grabbing for the wall with an unsteady hand.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He put a strong, steady hand beneath the inside of her arm again. She was rewarded with his kindness while he was rewarded with a feel of the side of her big breast pressed against his hand.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. I'm just a little dizzy. They hit me pretty hard," she said pulling away from him while rubbing her jaw with one hand and closing her shirt and clutching her ribs with the other. "I think he may have broken my rib when he kicked me," she said grimacing in pain while tenderly feeling herself through her shirt with her fingers. "If I wasn't feeling so weak from not eating, I would have kicked their asses."
"Breathe in," he said. "May I?" She allowed his hand access inside her shirt. Her reached inside her unbuttoned shirt to feel her rib with an experienced fingers and a gentle hand. "Take a big breath in and a slow breath out. Does it hurt to breathe?"
Being that she wasn't wearing a bra and her breasts were so large, when he reached his hand inside her open shirt to feel her rib, her heavy breast rested on the top of his hand. After having been groped most of their lives, especially if they happen to have big breasts, most women know that men don't need to use their fingers and horny hands to feel women's breasts. Men have breast sensors all over their bodies. They can cop a cheap feel of a woman's breast with their forearm, elbow, knee, leg, shoulder, back, and even with the back of their hand. Solely from the firmness of her breast upon the back of his hand, as if he was Sherlock Holmes on a breast investigation, he deduced correctly that she was younger than she looked. In the way that she was holding her own in fighting them, he wondered if she was an undercover cop but if she was, she'd have plenty of backup watching her back.
"No, it doesn't hurt to breathe but it hurts to move," she said.
"Lucky for you it's only bruised and not broken," he said reaching his hand inside her unbuttoned shirt again to feel her rib again as his pretense to feel her breast again, if even only with the breast sensors on the back of his hand.
"Thank you," she said and pulling away from him again when, no doubt, realizing that he was copping a cheap feel on the pretense of checking her for injuries.
In the way she was so shapely put together, in checking her for more internal injuries, he'd love to give her a complete physical exam from pussy to breast. She had a beautiful body and he wouldn't mind seeing her naked again.
"You'll be fine in a few weeks," he said reluctantly removing his hand from inside her shirt when she pulled away from him.
As if he was an emergency room doctor and, in the way that he's helped soldiers survive battlefield wounds, he was more than qualified to tend to her bruised ribs. After seeing her up close, a real diamond in the rough, he'd love to give her the full attention that she needs.
"Bastard," she said kicking the unconscious man in the ribs, the one who kicked her in the ribs, ribs, before kicking him in the face.
"That's going to leave a bruise," he said laughing. "Okay that's enough," he said wrapping his arms around her and pulling her away from the man before giving him his own, swift Karate kick to the ribs.
Definitely, in the way that he kicked him and knew how to hurt him, no doubt, he broke his ribs for the bruised ribs that he gave her. When he wrapped his arms around her, with both arms around both of her breasts and her round ass firmly pressed against the quickly emerging bulge in his pants, he imagined being with her and making love with her.
"Bastard," she said more focused on the unconscious man than on him holding her while feeling her body with every sexual nerve ending that his body possesses. When Dave pulled her away from going berserk on the man, she spit her outrage on the man after extricating herself from his hold again.
"You're thinly bony," he said. "You weigh nothing. When did you last eat?"
He looked at her while imagining her in cleaner clothes, a short skirt and a low cut blouse, her hair done, and wearing makeup. She'd be stunning. He looked at her while wondering why she was out here alone with no one to protect her. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.
"Eat? I dunno." She looked at him confused while wiping her nose with her dirty sleeve. "What day is it today? After a while, I lose track of time," she said with sadness. "When you're out here with no money and no hope, it's hard to tell one day from the next. They all feel the same with morning dragging into night before starting all over again."
"C'mon. The diner is open down the block. I could use some grub and I hate eating alone. My treat."
"Okay," she said picking up her two bags of cans.
"Leave them," he said.
"Leave them? Are you nuts?" She looked at him as if he were crazy. "I can't leave my cans."
"You can't take those with you in the diner," he said.
"I can't leave my cans," she stomped her foot as if she was a spoiled child. "Someone will take them. It took me all day to collect those cans. There's enough money in those bags to buy me coffee and a muffin and to eat off of for a couple of days. There must be three hundred cans in those bags. That's about fifteen dollars and there's not another can to be found in this whole alley," she said looking at her bags with a knowledgeable eye but a bit hard pressed to do the quick math in her head. She stared at her plastic bags as they were filled with money.
"Here," he said handing her three twenties. "I just bought them from you. Now they're my cans. Leave them. C'mon, let's go eat."
"Okay," she said stuffing the money in her pocket while stuffing the bags of cans behind a trash bin and covering them with cardboard. "I'm just making sure that no one steals your cans," she looked up at him and smiled while wiping dirt off her face with her dirty sleeve. "Will they allow me inside? I know the diner. I tried buying coffee there once before and they were rude to me," she looked at him with sadness.
"Don't worry. You're with me. You're my guest. They'll allow you to eat there," he said with kindness.
"Even though I was so cold, so tired, and even though I just wanted to sit and rest before falling over, they said that I had to take the coffee outside to drink," as if she was about to burst in tears, she continued telling him her sad tale. "As good as any other customer, I was a paying customer too," she said with anger.
She paused as if thinking about if she should continue telling him the rest of her sad story. She looked away from him with an embarrassed look.
"What? Tell me," he said. "Trust me. You're with a friend."
"I really needed to use the bathroom and as soon as I walked back outside and the cold air hit me, I peed myself," she said beginning to cry. Dave wanted to hug her but backed off to give her some space.
"I'm so sorry," said Dave, "and I apologize for their treatment of you.
"I heard the waitress laugh to the other waitress that I smelled," she said looking at him with tears in her eyes. "Okay, yeah, sure, no doubt I smelled after I peed myself but I don't smell, especially in the cold," she said lifting her arm to smell her pit. "I don't know how anything can smell anything or anyone in the cold. Besides, I take a shower, not every day, but I shower in the shelter whenever I can."
"Don't worry about not being served. You're my guest and you don't smell," he said moving her long, blonde hair out of the way with his hand while sniffing her and before taking her by the arm again, as she buttoned what buttons were left on her shirt.
Not a typical bag lady, when he moved her lush, blonde hair out of the way, he imagined she was Rapunzel or Cinderella. He imagined moving her hair from her face just before her. As if she was a movie star on a sound stage, after seeing her closer and under the soft glow of the street light, and after she cleaned herself up, he wouldn't mind waking up to her every morning. Suddenly, he had an image of her wearing a long, lavender nightgown that buttoned halfway down the front. He imagined himself taking the time to slowly unbutton every button while looking to see what each unbuttoned button revealed before reaching his hand inside to feel her abundant breasts and finger her hard nipples while kissing her.
Continuing his sudden enamored vision of her, especially after seeing her without any warm outerwear, he imagined dressing her for the cold while warming her within his strong arms. He imagined buying her fleece gloves, a tam hat, in the way that Talia Shire wore in Rocky as Adrian, and a scarf wrapped around her neck. Wearing nothing more than an unzipped, 800 down vest to keep her warm and to protect her from his horny hands, he imagined himself kissing her while feeling her everywhere. He imagined marrying her and buying her a cute, little, green Mini Cooper S as her wedding gift. A common occurrence, a protector falling for the victim, he wondered if she was falling for him too.
"Thank you," she said. "You're kind."
"Here," he said removing his light jacket. He pulled out his shirttails to cover his holstered gun. "Wear this," he said placing his jacket over her shoulders while holding out the jacket to help her arm inside.
Taking her all in as if noticing her for the first time, he liked that fact that she was tall, maybe 5'9", and nearly as tall as he was. He liked that she was blonde and busty. He had a thing for blonde women with big tits. Only all the blondes he's ever been with were dyed blonde and judging from her pubic hair, she's a natural blonde just as her breasts are natural and not surgically enhanced. Unless she was a stripper and a hooker, he couldn't imagine a homeless woman living in the alley with silicone breasts.
Unable see, he wondered what color eyes she had. Always too busy being a hardcore Marine, he never took the time to really look at a woman until now in the way that he was looking at her. All the women in his life were one night stands of drinking, desperate groping, and sweating in a cheap motel room. All of the women in his life didn't matter to him in the way that this woman suddenly mattered to him now. He wanted to help her and take care of her. Was this fate that they met or was he thinking more about her as a romantic connection than she was thinking about him?
"Thanks," she said putting on his jacket and zippering it against the cold and to hide her exposed breasts while staring down at his concealed weapon. "You have a gun?"
"Yes. I do. A part of me as if it's an extension of my hand, I don't go out without my weapon."
"Then, I don't understand."
"What don't you understand?" He looked at her.
"Why didn't you use it on them?"
"I didn't need to use my gun on them. I was in no imminent danger or threat of death to use deadly force. Besides I never pull my gun unless I'm going to use it," he said. "Furthermore, my gun could be taken from me and used against me. Besides my real weapons are my mind, my resolve, my hands, and my feet. None of those can be used against me. Sometimes, especially in close combat, a gun just gets in my way." He looked at her and smile, "And besides," he said with a laugh, "there were only three of them."
"Yeah but, they could have--"
"They could have what? Bled, vomited, and peed all over me?" He laughed. "As it was, it wasn't a fair fight," he said with a smug laugh. "Seriously," he said as if it was no big deal, "There were only three of them. Having been down this road before in more dangerous situations, it takes more than three to get the better of me."
"But one had a gun, the other a knife, and I saw the third one reaching for a pipe. How is that not a fair fight? Fair for them but not for you," she said with a look of disbelief.
"It was obvious to me in the way they were standing and holding their weapons that they had no idea how to use them. As far as I was concerned, their weapons were my weapons to take from them and to use on them," he said with a grin.
"Who are you?"
"I'm a United States Marine, Gunnery Sergeant Ryan, retired at your service Ma'am," he said with a shit eating grin.
"Wow! Lucky me," she said returning his smile. "I'm unfamiliar with all the military designations but isn't a Gunnery Sergeant in the Marine Corps equal to a Sergeant Major in the Army?"
"Yes. The navy has their Master Chief Petty Officer and the Air Force has the Chief Master Sergeant. All are the same pay grade. Why do you ask?"
"I'm a movie buff. I used to watch the old black and white movies when I was a kid. A latch key kid, my Mom worked during the day and I stayed home alone after school. I remember watching this one, old movie, Soldier in the Rain, one of my all time favorite movies, right up there with Requiem for a Heavyweight with Anthony Quinn, on the Waterfront with Marlon Brando, and Old Man and the Sea with Spencer Tracy. Anyway, Solder in the Rain starred Jackie Gleason and Steve McQueen. Jackie Gleason played a tough, smart, Sergeant Major who did crossword puzzles in pen. Have you seen the movie?"
"No. Well, here we are," he said opening the door of the diner.
"Wait. I can't go in there. Can't we take the food to go," she said baulking by taking a step backward. "They'll recognize me. I'm hard to miss. There aren't many homeless women living in the street, especially one that's a tall, blonde, with big tits," she said with a laugh. "TBBT."
"TBBT? What's that?"
"That was my nickname in high school, TBBT, tall blonde with big tits," she said with a laugh.
Grabbing her by the hand, he took her hand in his and walked in the diner ahead of her while pulling his reluctant, late night, supper guest along.
"Hi Pete," he said with a wave. "My sister and I are going to grab the booth in back," he said pointing to the empty booth.
"Yeah, sure, Dave," said Pete smiling at Dave before he scowled when eyeing Susan and her disheveled appearance.
Pete didn't dare say a work after Dave stopped a robbery attempt one early morning. Open 24 hours, his usual routine after his late night, early morning walk was to hit the diner for coffee with apple pie and ice cream. As he approached the restaurant, always alert, Dave heard shouts from the street before opening the door to the small diner. Pete was out on the floor. He's never out on the floor. He's always positioned behind the open, high counter window in the kitchen, while his waitress takes cares of the customers out front.