I Want You to Show Me

This is a story with a slow burn so if you are looking for a quick stroke story perhaps keep searching and come back to this when you have more time.

This story has triggers, so if any of the following may cause you distress, please consider carefully whether it is safe for you to read this.

It deals with non-consent, incest, religious hypocrisy, pregnancy, and childbirth, and lactation. Also romance, age difference, and love.

Reader's discretion is advised.

As always, constructive feedback is very welcome.

I hope you enjoy this offering.

***

With arms full of grocery bags Tim shouldered his way through the heavy front door of his rundown apartment block, the hinges shrieking in protest.

Milo, the property manager, looked out the door of his unit to see who was entering the building. Rusty hinges and creaky stair treads were an effective way of knowing where people were, who was coming or going, especially on a Friday, being rent day.

And as far as the rent goes, the weasel faced man wasn't interested in excuses, only in cash; although if you were a female then he could negotiate some form of payment in kind. It was either that or find your belongings unceremoniously dumped on the footpath outside.

He didn't care, there were always people looking for a cheap room to rent, for a week or two, or a month or two.

"Hey, Milo, I want to talk to you about my heater," Tim called out as he handed over the rent money. "It's still not working, and you said you were going to get it fixed or replaced weeks ago. What's the hold-up?"

"Yeah, yeah, the sparky's waiting for parts. I told you that."

"Well replace the damn thing if you can't get parts for it."

"Do you know how expensive heaters are in winter? Tell ya what, if it isn't fixed in the next few weeks, I'll buy a new one in spring when the price drops or they're on sale again."

"Not good enough. Do you know how cold it is in my place? I'm sure you have an empty unit, grab the heater from there and put it in mine."

"I'll think about it."

"And when are you going to fix the lift?"

"Why should I, the stairs work fine. Stop ya complaining. If you don't like it here find somewhere else to live. No skin off my nose." He slammed his door in Tim's face, cutting off any further discussion.

Muttering away and calling into question the marital status of Milo's parents and grandparents, Tim climbed the stairs to his fifth-floor unit, turned on the small fan heater he had smuggled in, and put away his groceries.

Hanging up his thick coat with his gloves in the pockets, he rolled and flexed his shoulders and arms, working out the kinks from his well-used muscles. Tim was 48 years old, 5'11" tall, and worked as a day labourer, earning minimum wage while putting in a sold days' work. It was physical work, and he had developed the muscles, stamina, and flexibility to make himself sought after by the various construction companies who took him on.

Being more wiry than musclebound, at first glance he didn't appear intimidating, but people quickly learned that crossing him was a bad idea. People, that is, except Milo; he just didn't give a shit. If anyone tried to intimidate him, their belongings appeared on the footpath outside.

Tim had been living here for three years, yet there was nothing in the unit to show it, no personal items, pictures on the wall, none of the usual crap people buy to try to make a shoebox look like home. And no reminders of a past life. Tim didn't care. It was a place to eat, sleep, and try not to think.

***

The following Friday evening when Tim arrived home, he saw Milo talking to a young girl, maybe late teens but no older, and obviously pregnant. He thought that if she was wanting to live here, she had scraped through the bottom of her luck barrel.

She definitely wasn't dressed for the weather, and looked cold, her face and hands pinched and red. Neither the foyer nor the stairwell was heated but at least she was sheltered from the freezing wind outside.

Tim estimated she stood about 5'4" in her heeled ankle boots, and apart from the baby bump and boobs she was skinny. Her boots looked wet, and the summer dress only reached to mid-calf, and her coat not even to there.

She would have to be a minimum of eighteen to sign a tenancy agreement, but considering Milo's ethics he doubted many here would have a contract; he knew he didn't have one.

Her only luggage that Tim could see was a backpack slung over her left shoulder, leaving her right hand free to accept the key from Milo.

Tim was halfway up the stairs when he heard Milo tell her, "Rent is due every Friday. No excuses. Miss it and you aren't here Friday night. You are up on level 5, on the right. And if you're still here when you have the brat, keep it quiet. I don't want it keeping your neighbours awake. Any questions? No? Good. Welcome to Paradise, kiddo. Now fuck off, I've got things to do."

Tim felt the building shudder when Milo slammed his door shut, and in the fading echo he thought he heard a quiet sob. Poor kid, he thought.

He was in the kitchen making coffee and deciding on what to eat when he heard the floorboards groan in the hallway, soon followed by the closing of the door to the unit beside his. He'd guessed Milo would put her in there, it was the smallest and coldest room in the building, facing due south, never getting any direct sunlight through the filthy cracked windows. Hearing her boots on the wooden flooring meant Milo had even removed the threadbare carpet, cheap bastard that he was.

He briefly contemplated introducing himself to her, but when you live in this building you keep yourself to yourself. In saying that, though, he did know the names of every tenant, and the working girls knew he would come running if they needed help at any time; they greeted him by name and with a smile, but that was as far as it went. Each respected the others privacy.

The thin walls between Tim and the new girl's room meant he often heard her moving around. She woke early, too, and started her day with a hot drink, as did Tim, but all was quiet while he made his lunch and left for work.

When Tim arrived home the following Friday, the girl was again talking to Milo and asking for a receipt for the rent she had paid. He just laughed at her, saying he doesn't give receipts, too much paperwork.

"Excuse me, miss," Tim said, reaching over her with cash in his hand. "Milo, here's my rent. Has she paid the full week's rent?"

"Yeah, she has. Why?"

"Simple. I'm a witness that she's paid, so there won't be any argument about it, will there."

"Fuck off and mind your own business, smart arse," he growled at Tim. "And as for you, whatever your name is, I'll see you next Friday."

Snarling at Tim, Milo slammed the door to his room.

"Thanks. I didn't mean to cause any trouble, but I don't feel I can trust that man."

"You got that right. And don't worry, he'll behave. Just don't do anything to piss him off or he will have an excuse to kick you out just to get back at me for showing him up."

"Good to know. Thanks again." She bent down to pick up a couple of grocery bags and slowly climbed the stairs to their floor.

Watching her, Tim thought she looked thinner than last week, struggling to carry herself up the stairs, let alone the bags. When she paused to catch her breath on the first landing Tim took the bags from her and escorted her up the rest of the flights and to her bedsitter. When she opened the door to her room Tim felt the cold air flowing out and chilling his legs, the air colder even than in the unheated corridor.

"I'll take those," she said, holding out her hands for the groceries. "Thanks for helping. See ya."

"My name's Tim. I live next door so just bang on the wall if you need anything."

"I'm fine, honestly. I'm just tired, it's been a long day."

"OK. But the offer stands. See ya."

Back in his own unit he thought about the girl while he made a mug of jitter juice. From her doorway he had seen a mattress on the floor with a couple of thin blankets. The sink bench was clear, and there was a plate, mug, utensils, and on the shelves. The room was either Zen or Spartan, depending on your outlook.

He did see it was clean and tidy with the bed made, and the floor had been scrubbed. Even the inside of the window was clean.

Since Tim was up and away to work early and home late, he only heard the occasional sound from her room, and they didn't see each other again until the following Friday evening. Tim finished work a little earlier on Fridays and shopped for groceries on his way home, which seemed to be the new girl's routine also as she was again at Milo's door handing over cash.

Making it obvious to Milo that he saw the transaction, Tim handed over his rent, picked up the girl's bags, and carried them up to her room, leaving them outside her door while she was still heading up the stairs.

Taking a quick peek at what she had bought, he muttered to himself that it wasn't enough for a child, let alone an expectant mother. He was back in his unit filling the kettle when he heard her in the hall, her steps slowing outside his door, but carrying on to her flat.

The following Friday was a repeat of the previous: rent paid, groceries carried up to her door, but this time he slipped some extras he had bought into her bags - nothing extravagant, just things that help add bulk and healthy calories to a meal, and some decent coffee as he had seen she bought the cheapest available.

Guessing she would have something to say about it, he made two mugs of coffee and set them on the table, ready, and he didn't have long to wait. He heard her start muttering as she began unpacking the bags, getting more upset with each new find.

Hearing her stomping to his door he opened it before she could knock and invited her in.

"There's coffee on the table, the one on the right is mine. Sit down and drink it before it gets cold. I dislike things being wasted."

"Really? Well, I dislike people poking their nose in where it isn't wanted," she countered, stalking in but picking up the coffee mug and wrapping her hands around its warmth. "I don't need your charity; I'm managing just fine. Butt out of my life."

"How's the coffee?"

"It's actually really good," she said with a small smile, then remembering why she was there, she carried on, "but that's beside the point. Why did you think you had the right to interfere?"

"Please sit down. The chair doesn't look much but it's surprisingly comfy."

"Damn you, will you answer my questions?"

"I will," Tim replied, "but at the moment you are a bit too worked up to really listen. Sit, relax, enjoy the coffee, and thaw out. It's freezing outside and you look cold."

Putting the coffee mug on the side table, she took off her coat and lowered herself into the chair, using the arms for support, all the while keeping her eyes fixed on Tim's.

"Let's say I'm chill enough to listen, start talking."

"Hi, my name's Tim and I'm your neighbour."

"What is this, a meeting of 'neighbours not so anonymous' or something? Was that meant to be funny?"

"More of an ice breaker, really. What's your name?"

"Jessy. My name's Jessy. Happy now?"

"Did you lock your door before you stomped over here? The whole building knows where you are now, and there are some here who will take any opportunity to help themselves to what others have got."

"Yes, I locked up. Sheesh! I may be pissed at you, but I'm not stupid, Tim!"

"Good. So, you asked why I put some things in your groceries? Because I'm concerned about you. You've lost weight since you moved here, and honestly you don't have much to come and go on. And I don't know if you noticed but you're pregnant, you have to look after yourself for the sake of the baby."

She sat back in the chair, colour rising in her cheeks, the skin around her eyes wrinkling as her brows lowered.

"Yes, I know I'm pregnant, and I am taking care of the baby, not that it's any business of yours. I don't need your help and I sure as hell don't want it. Do you have a 'knight in shining armor' kink or something? I'm no damn damsel in distress." She shuffled to the front of the chair and pushed up on the arms to help her stand up. "No more. Leave me alone. Got it?" She said, draping her coat over her arm.

Tim held his hands up in surrender. "I've got it. I meant no offense."

"Thanks for the coffee," she said, closing the door softly behind her.

Tim made a point of being quiet while he prepared his dinner, and after tidying up afterwards, he went to bed.

Lying on his side, blankets up around his ears, he thought about Jessy and her situation. At least he knew her name now, though he doubted she would speak to him again.

With her out of her coat and sitting across from him this evening, he had a chance to actually look at her.

She was very thin, and her pale skin looked dry. Her dull blonde hair was lifeless and lank, though clean, and that strange length where it wasn't short or long, as if she didn't know what she wanted to do with it.

Her breasts were maybe a B cup and had obviously grown in size but going by the bulges, she still wore the same bra which Tim guessed would be very uncomfortable.

The baby bump was prominent and, the more Tim thought about it the more convinced he was that she was carrying lower than before. He had no idea when she was due, but he knew that if the baby had dropped then she was getting close.

Not my problem, he thought, she has made that perfectly clear.

All was quiet on the Western Front when he made his coffee next morning, so he again tried to be quiet while he made his breakfast and headed off to work his usual Saturday morning.

Arriving home that afternoon Tim heard Jessy moving around and with the walls so thin he heard the flushing of the loo.

He spent the afternoon like most Saturday afternoons, doing housework and laundry, cooked himself a meal, tidied up afterwards, and sat in his chair, staring out the window alone with his thoughts.

Next morning Tim followed his routine and indulged himself by going to the local diner for breakfast, where the servers welcome him by name. Having sat in Trixie's area last week, Buffy pointed him to a booth in her area while she grabbed the coffee pot and headed over.

"Hey sugar, this was freshly made just ten minutes ago. Musta known you was coming or something."

"You know I love it when it's hot and fresh, Buffs."

"I've heard the rumours but I'm yet to find out, hun. I may not be as fresh as some, but I can sure get hot."

"I bet you can. So, what's good on the menu today?"

Raising an eyebrow, she said "You mean other than me? Know something, in all the time you've been eating here, Trixie and I have told you the Specials, given you time to look over the menu, and you always choose scrambled eggs and bacon on hash-browns. Every Sunday morning without fail."

"I do, don't I, and yet each Sunday morning you ask what I want when you already know. Funny, isn't it."

"Yeah, hilarious. I'll go tell the la la carte chef that you are getting all adventurous and want to try scrambled eggs and bacon and hash-browns today." Resting her hand on his shoulder, she leaned closer and asked, "Will there be anythin' else you'll be wanting to try, hun?"

When she leaned towards him her uniform top gaped, showing off her ample bust insecurely held in place by a plain white cotton bra.

"Just coffee, thanks, Buffs."

"OK, sugar. Your loss. I'll get your order in."

She sashayed back behind the counter with a chuckle. Trix and Buff had been harmlessly flirting with Tim since they realised he was now a regular and an alright guy. Tim knew they were both in solid relationships and it was just a bit of fun in an otherwise thankless and long day.

When Buffy returned to take his empty plate and top up his coffee, he asked to have a couple of BLTs prepared to go.

"What's this, you cheating on me, sugar? Who are you buying food for?"

"A girl who's recently moved in; she is the flat next door and is very pregnant. She'll kill me for interfering, but I think she could do with something she hasn't had to make herself."

"Aw, ain't you sweet. It'll be ready for you when you leave." She turned to head back to the counter when she turned back to him. "You know, Trix and I been talking, and we wouldn't kill you if you interfered with us." She smiled, batted her eyes at him, and turning away again added, "at the same time."

Tim spluttered coffee while Buffy roared with laughter and headed over to tell Trixie her latest shenanigans.

Tim quietly walked along the corridor and set the take-out box on the floor in front of Jessy's door, knocked and made a rapid tactical retreat to the safety of his room. He heard her open her door, pick up the box, and mutter at length about it, but she closed her door, and he heard her chair creak as she sat down.

Monday was a typical Monday; Tim again tried his best to quietly go through his morning routine before heading off to work. The evening was just like the previous weekday evenings - dinner, tidying up, and bed. Sometimes he even slept.

Rinse and repeat through to Thursday.

Friday started off the same as usual, however that evening when he shouldered his way in through the front door and paid his rent, Milo asked how the girl was as he hadn't seen her for a couple of days, and she hadn't paid her rent.

"I haven't heard anything from her. Have you knocked on her door to check?"

"Hell, why would I do that? It's up to her to pay the rent, I shouldn't have to chase her for it."

"You really are an arsehole, Milo, you know that? I'll check on her for you, then."

"Your call, I didn't ask you to."

Tim ran up the stairs two at a time with his bags of groceries, and after dropping them off in his flat he knocked on Jessy's door. Hearing nothing he knocked again and thought he may have heard a groan.

Knowing he would get the bill if he broke into her flat, Tim went down to Milo's and asked for the key.

"Ain't no way I'm handing my keys over, hang on," he said, taking a ring of keys off his desk. Flicking through them, he chose an odd-shaped one and fitted it into a keyhole on the lift button plate, turned it and pushed the Up button. The lift doors opened, and he led Tim into the car, pushed the button for the top floor and watched the doors close.

"You have gotta be kidding me. The lift isn't broken?"

Milo didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed. "Do you know how much this is to run? Too much, that's how much. Takes a huge chunk of the profit."

Milo had the key to Jessy's room ready and unlocked the door. Tim pushed past and putting a hand on Milo's chest told him to wait right there.

Jessy was lying on her side on the mattress on the floor, barely conscious. He barked at Milo to get an ambulance, his tone spurring the man to obey without dissembling.

Tim soaked a tea towel and used it to wipe the sweat from Jessy's face, talking to her, letting her know that help was on the way.

Jessy's body froze and with a grimace her head rolled back as she was hit with a contraction. This lasted for well over a minute, and Tim glanced at the clock to note the time. The next contraction arrived with the ambulance crew, and after a quick but thorough exam she was lifted on the gurney, taken by the lift to the ground floor and sped away under lights and siren to hospital.

Tim didn't follow the ambulance to the hospital that night, nor did he go there on Saturday. He knew she was in a bad way so best to let them work on her in peace.

Sunday morning, he went back to the diner, and sat in Trixie's area.

"Just the usual for you today, Tim?"