No Strings Pt. 01

"Yes, and I meant it. Whatever you need, I'm here to help. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come."

"I appreciate that...Well, my brother lost his job, and I'm still looking for work. I have several possibilities, but even once I get hired, it will be a while before I have the funds I need...and I have to be out of my apartment by this Saturday."

"I'll help however I can. Don't be afraid to ask, or be embarrassed. We've all had our rough spots."

"Thank you. Well, honestly, I wouldn't feel right taking money from you, but if you could put me up for a couple weeks, that would be greatly appreciated. My girlfriend offered, but she has a studio and I'd be sleeping on a couch with no place for my belongings."

"Well, my place isn't huge, but I do have a decent spare bedroom; and it's yours for as long as you need it."

"Are you sure?"

Her eyes teared up, and she looked like she was ready to break down. I reached and patted her hand.

"Yes, I'm sure, Lynne. And like I said, 'no strings'. I mean that."

She looked at me for a second, then hesitantly asked, "Um, you live alone?"

"No, I have a female companion."

"Oh?"

"Her name is Tom. She's a cat."

She laughed, "I love cats. I used to have one, when I was young. Why did you name her Tom?"

"I didn't; long story. And you look pretty young, now."

"Oh, thank you. I meant, when I was young, young. And I'm not that young now. How old do you think I am?"

"Hmm, mid-twenties," I guessed, and meant it.

She smiled, "Thanks again. No, I'm probably as old as you. I'll be 33 next week."

"We'll have to throw you a birthday party," I grinned.

"Oh, goodness, no. So how old are you?" she asked.

"Not near as old as you!"

She laughed, "You're terrible."

"Actually, I'm 36."

"Hmm, I would have guessed younger, but it's hard to tell with the beard."

"Yeah, it's my boyish good looks."

Dryly, she replied, "No, that's not it."

"I deserved that - touché." I noticed she still had something on her mind, "Is there something else, Lynne?"

"May I ask, do you have a girlfriend or significant other?"

"No, I'm unattached, and I'm not gay, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm sorry. It's just that, I've been surprised that you haven't, um, showed...you know, that sort of interest in me. I'm kind of used to guys hitting on me."

"Lynne, you are definitely a beautiful woman, but like I said, I'm no masher. I'm not going to take advantage of you just because you're in a fix. But don't think that means that I don't find you attractive. It just means I'm not going to do anything about it."

"That's really decent of you, Matt."

"Considering my usual, it's a bit out of character. I'll just chalk it up to temporary lapse in judgement."

"I know you're kidding," she smiled, "And I'm surprised you don't have a girlfriend or that you're not married."

"Well, I was married; divorced about a year ago; and I have a few friends I see now and then."

"A few friends?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah."

She pursued the 'friends' thing. "I assume you mean 'friends with benefits', which brings up our arrangement. I promise I won't be in the way. If you have someone coming over, I'll..."

"Lynne, I'm not going to ask you to get lost while I have some woman over. I won't do that. I'm not that much of a cad. However, if you want to stay and watch..."

"Oh, you're incorrigible," she laughed, "Of course, if you promise a good show..."

It was my turn to laugh, "Thank you for getting my sense of humor. Not everyone does."

"Well, I appreciate it. I usually work with a bunch of stiffs. Your humor is a refreshing change."

We chatted through dinner, talking about our histories, getting to know each other. I learned she was also recently divorced - seems the hubby had a weakness for the fillies, as in 'the ponies', not women; so after he bankrupted them, she dumped him. The more I talked with her, the more I was impressed by her. Lynne was no ditzy blond; she was sharp with a quick wit and a great sense of humor; but I'm not downplaying her physical beauty.

Her long, blond hair was subtly enhanced with highlights and lowlights, and hung to below her shoulders. Her lovely oval face was highlighted by bright blue eyes, a medium, straight nose, and a lovely mouth with classically shaped, medium full lips. When she smiled, it was dazzling, revealing a set of perfect, white teeth. Her make-up was very tastefully done, only accenting her natural beauty. I couldn't tell a lot about her body. The last time I saw her, she was wearing a 3/4 length coat, and tonight she had on a gray, pantsuit outfit with thin, dark-pink pinstripes, complimented by a dusty-mauve colored blouse. I could see that she had a nice, trim shape to her and an obviously decent-sized bosom. I was quite taken with her.

The whole platonic, 'no-strings-attached' deal was going to be more difficult than I thought.

I asked if she needed help getting her belongings from the apartment and she did. We arranged to meet at her building on Saturday morning. With that, we said goodnight and I walked her to her car, a late-model Prius - a nice, practical car, but not a lot of room for moving. I have a mid-sized SUV, and between our two vehicles, she was certain we could handle everything in one load.

After I got home, just as I was getting ready to jump in the shower, Sylvia, one of my 'friends', called and asked if I wanted to get together - she's a divorcee that lives down the hall from me. (Sylvia's the tenant that fed Tom after she was abandoned.) As Lynne had left me in a bit of a state, it was a welcome invitation, and I said I'd be over after a shower.

Sylvia's quite a gal. She's forty-eight years old, but still a damn good-looking woman. She's petite, like Lynne, but there, the similarities end. She's small breasted, has narrow hips, and is more on the diminutive side. Her body is in good shape, and she has only the slightest tummy. She has reddish-brown hair, worn short, and dark-brown eyes. She has a slender face that features a smallish nose, and what some would call 'rosebud' lips, and really doesn't show her age. She's a good friend, and a dynamic lover. She's a real survivor with a surprisingly upbeat attitude. She's buried one husband and divorced two, almost killing one with a steak knife when she caught him screwing her bff.

When Saturday came, I met Lynne in front of her apartment building and we rode the elevator up, together.

"I can't thank you enough for this," she said.

"You've already thanked me too much, Lynne. Really, I'm happy I am able to help. Besides, maybe we can arrange for you to work it out in trade."

Her eyes got big, and she started to protest.

I quickly continued, "Yeah, you can help with the chores, and if you can cook, that would be a bonus for me. I can cook okay, but wouldn't mind someone to share the duties."

She laughed, and slapped my shoulder, "You were having me on, weren't you?"

"My job," I quipped as the elevator stopped.

The door opened, she stepped out, and over her shoulder, remarked, "I'm a very good cook...and by the way, I am quite talented in some other areas, too."

"Okay, now you're not playing fair," I parried.

"My job." she remarked.

"Touché."

As we were getting ready to take the first load down, her brother showed up, face all bandaged and several lovely shades of red, gray and blue - his face, not the bandages.

"Who's the guy?" he politely greeted me. Okay, he wasn't greeting me, and he wasn't polite.

I thought, "This could get awkward."

"He's a friend who is helping me move," she answered curtly. I surmised they weren't on the best of terms.

"Friend, huh?" he grumbled as he pushed past me to get his things, obviously not recognizing me.

"Just make sure he doesn't get any of my stuff," he huffed.

Lynne snapped back, "Like what, Leo? All you have is a pile of dirty clothes and some junk I wouldn't touch. Just get your crap out of here. We have to be out by noon."

After they exchanged a couple more pleasantries, we got back to moving.

When we were in the elevator, I asked, "How can you two possibly be related?"

"Different fathers. He's my younger half-brother and was raised by his father and my mother. When my parents split, I went with my father."

"Got it."

We were just able to fit all her belongings in the two vehicles - quite a few boxes and a bunch of clothes, which I understood. As a legal secretary, she would need a decent wardrobe. When we got to my building, we lugged everything to my apartment, then she went about getting situated while I did some of my weekend chores - laundry, vacuuming and such. I keep a neat apartment, and Tom's a clean cat, but she does leave some cat hair around, and the occasional hairball; and there is one slob here I have to clean up after. Tom's tried to get rid of the slob, but I keep coming back.

Speaking of Tom, she's a big, beautiful, brown and gray Maine Coon, and I can't imagine why anyone would abandon such a lovely, sweet cat. While I was vacuuming, she scooted out onto the balcony. She's basically an indoor cat, but since she's never shown any inclination to get off the balcony, I put in a kitty door and keep her litter out there. When the weather's nice, she likes to go out and sun herself. I like to sit outside and read, and she always lies in my lap and sleeps. Yes, I'm fond of the little gal. Lynne was immediately taken with her and it was mutual.

III. UNWELCOME GUEST

I found out Lynne's birthday was on Wednesday, so I took off work early, picked up a cake, some Chinese food, and had it all set up before she got home. She came in looking defeated.

"No luck so far?" I greeted her.

"Hi Matt. No, I have two more interviews this week and I've sent out more resumes, but so far, nothing promising or that I would accept. I think my former boss put the word out on me."

"Well, hopefully I can cheer you up a bit." I stepped away from the cake I was hiding behind me, and exclaimed, "Happy Birthday, Lynne!...Um, sorry, I didn't think to get candles, or a gift, or any party favors, or invite anyone...but I did bring home Chinese food!"

She surprised me, coming up to me, kissing me on the cheek, and wrapping her arms around me. Then she started crying, then sobbing. I patted her back and tried to reassure her.

"Hey, don't you worry. It'll just take time, but you'll find a job, a good one. And until you do, this is home. Don't think otherwise."

"Thank you, Matt. I...I don't know what I would have done...if you hadn't come along in the parking lot...if you hadn't offered to help me...if you..."

She started crying again. Good grief. But honestly, holding her against me, felt pretty nice.

Over the next few weeks, we got into a routine. Since I had to leave early, I would shower and get ready first. In the evening, she would get home before me, straighten up, feed Tom and have dinner ready when I got home. It was pretty comfortable.

As time passed, Lynne was getting more discouraged, and I tried to keep her spirits up. She had been religiously pounding the pavement, and had been on three interviews in the last week without finding suitable employment. I insisted she not take a substandard position, that she wait for a good job. I was in no hurry for her to leave. Though I felt bad for her, I was secretly happy it was taking some time - she was a damn good cook, which I was going to miss; and just having her around was pretty nice. I was getting very used to her presence.

My friend, Sylvia, had commented that I had become a bit more amorous during our lovemaking. I didn't tell her why, but she guessed. She knew about Lynne and had met her.

"I can't believe you haven't bedded that woman, Matt. Are you losing your touch?"

"Hey, I told you, we have an arrangement."

"Oh, bullshit. I've seen the way you look at her, and they way she looks at you."

"That's your imagination, Sylvia, now, can we do the cowgirl thing. I can go again, but you've worn my ass out."

"Oh, you're just being lazy, but yes, cowboy," she grinned, "I'll ride you till you're broken in properly!"

"No spurs this time, okay?" I joked.

Of note, since Lynne moved in, I quit seeing all of my 'friends', except Sylvia. And I only see her on the evenings or weekends when Lynne would go to see her girlfriend from college.

As far as Lynne goes, since TB, I've become pretty stalwart when it comes to matters of the heart. Now, though, I was starting to find a few chinks in the wall I had built around it. Lynne was eroding my 'stalwartness'.

One Friday, when I got home from work and walked into the apartment, I was greeted by some lovely aromas coming from the kitchen. Then I was greeted by a lovely sight. Lynne was in the living room, straightening up, and at that moment, was bent over the arm of the couch. She was wearing black leggings and a white halter top. Her firm, perfectly shaped butt was staring me in the face, and as I am a legs and ass man, I really didn't need to see that.

When she heard me enter, she stood and turned. She was wearing the white halter top with no bra, which did nothing to hide the shape of her breasts, ugh; and it left her trim midriff and cute navel exposed. She normally didn't dress like that, and it caught me off guard. Good grief, I didn't need this one bit.

Okay, I guess here is a good time to describe Lynne's physical attributes for the guys, and for the gals, depending on which way you roll...

Lynne is somewhat petite but not diminutive, about 5'-4" tall, maybe 120 pounds, and very well proportioned - her torso features an average-sized chest for her height, which tapers down to a narrow waist and flat stomach, and her hips flare out nicely to give her an overall hour-glass-shape. She's bosomy, but not top-heavy, with firm-looking C-cups. I could make out her slightly-dark aureoles and pert nipples through her halter top. Her legs are about perfect for her height and build - slender, shapely, slightly muscular, and they end at petite, very pretty feet. With her long, blond hair and beautiful face, she really is a stunner.

When she saw me, she grinned, "Oh, you're home," and exclaimed, "I have some great news," then squealed, "I got a job!" and rushed up and jumped on me.

Yes, she jumped on me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, mashing her braless boobs into me, and wrapped her strong legs around my hips. I reflexively grabbed her around the waist and held her to me.

"Wow! Great! I'm very happy for you. I guess this means I can finally get you out of my hair."

Still holding onto me, she dropped her feet to the floor and leaned back, meeting my gaze, "I know you don't mean that. Besides, it will be a while before I can afford to move, so suck it up, buster. Oh, and I have lasagna in the oven. I hope you like it. It's been a while since I made it."

She was bubbling over, and I was genuinely happy for her, but her body pressed against mine was having an effect and I was afraid I was going to embarrass myself.

"Lynne, don't take this wrong, but you need to let go of me. I may be a decent guy, but in your present attire, with you pressed up against me, it's a little disconcerting."

"Oh crap! I'm sorry, Matt," she exclaimed as she released me. "I was going to change before you got here, but forgot. I'll be right back."

She spun on her heel and headed for her bedroom. As I watched her leave, I realized I was becoming more than slightly aroused. I beat it to the bedroom to calm down and change. Besides the stirring in my pants, I felt a strong tug on my heart - yeah, maybe more than a tug. It was going to be very difficult to see her go.

When I came out, Lynne was setting the table, and had on a sweatshirt, but was still wearing the damn leggings. The bottom half of her buttocks were showing, and now that I was fully aware of them, they were a real distraction.

As we set the table, I asked, "So when do you start?"

"Monday, week after next. And, guess what?"

"You had to sleep with the boss to get the job?"

"Yes, but only once...No, silly, my boss is a woman. I'll be her personal secretary," she grinned, "and I'll be making twenty-five percent more than my last job, plus, after ninety days, I'm eligible for medical and profit-sharing benefits!"

"I couldn't be happier for you. Now, are we going to eat? I'm starving."

"Oh, yes. Sorry, I'm just so excited."

"I am very happy for you, Lynne, very happy," I replied sincerely.

She came around the table, put her arms around my neck, and started to pull me to her, "Then why don't you show me, and kiss me."

I gently took her arms and removed them, "Lynne, I can't do that; not without wanting to do more, and I made a promise."

For a moment, she looked hurt, then recovered, and in a sultry voice, she offered, "Well, what if I said your promise was no longer binding, and that I didn't mind if you wanted to do more?"

Our 'situation' was interrupted by pounding on the front door. The police had finally tracked me down - for which incident, I wasn't sure. I went to the peephole.

"It's your brother. I think he figured out who I am."

"Oh shit! Don't answer it. What do we do?"

"Well, eventually, one way or the other, I'm going to have to deal with him. So, you answer the door and let him in. Just stay out of the way."

"Are you sure?"

"Yup, go ahead."

She pulled the door open and her brother barged in, a wild look in his eyes.

"YOU, MOTHER FUCKER! I remember where I saw you before! I'm gonna rip your fuckin' head off!"

"Oh, hi, dickhead. How did you find me? Bet you followed your sister, I mean, my girlfriend, I mean, my little sex kitten. You know, she's a real hot fuck!" I goaded him as I backed into the dining area to give me some maneuvering room.

If he was mad before, he was enraged now, and I'm sure he interpreted my retreat as fear. He charged at me, which was exactly what I wanted. As soon as he was a stride away, I dropped down and to the side, swinging my leg out and catching him just above the ankles. Unable to stop his momentum, he pitched forward and crashed head first into the coffee table, breaking the legs on it as he fell.

"AGHHH!" he screamed as he slammed his already busted-up face into the table top.

I immediately jumped on him, cracking, "Did that hurt, dickhead?"

I grabbed his hands and jerked them up behind him, wrenching his arms as hard as I could. I nodded in the direction of an extension cord coming out of the wall, and shouted to Lynne to grab it. She quickly complied, and started wrapping it around his wrists as I directed; then, as I tied it off, I instructed Lynne to quickly close and bolt the door. I thought his buddy might be lurking somewhere nearby. I didn't want any more broken furniture.

As I finished tying off his wrists, Leo spit out, "I'll fuckin' kill you, mother fucker!"

Which came out sounding like, "I'll fuffin' kill you, muffer fuffer."

"I was afraid you would say that," I calmly replied as I fastened an arm around his neck and choked him out.

He only struggled for a short time before passing out. I rolled him over and checked to make sure he was breathing; then I dragged him over and propped him up against the end of the couch. Tom had been sleeping there, but when the yelling started, she hightailed it to my bedroom. While I waited for Leo to come to, I went and washed the blood off me, then got some rags and cleaner for the floor. Lynne took them from me and bent down to clean up.

"Will he be okay?" she asked.

"Sort of. He's pretty much crushed his already broken nose, split his lip wide open and maybe broken a couple teeth or knocked them out; but yeah, he'll live. My coffee table won't though; it has two broken legs, so I guess I'll have to shoot it."

Lynne, shaking her head, laughed and with a little awe in her voice, remarked, "You can joke, even at a time like this."