Sometimes You Get Lucky

When I first saw the house in Kansas City I knew it was going to be my forever home. I'd been born and raised in the Carolinas but after a few business trips to KC I decided to relocate.

The place in Wilmington sold in just a few days and I found myself with far more money than I'd expected thanks to a bank executive who just had to have a place with room for horses. That made it possible for me to find a great old home in KC and have money left over for renovations.

I landed on a big 1915 Craftsman house along one of the city's many parkways. The home had a storied history but it had fallen into neglect courtesy of the last owner.

Due to a few water pipes breaking the foundation had crumbled and needed to be replaced. It was no small matter to pick up the whole house and move it to the back of the property while the foundation was replaced. The old foundation was quickly removed and then the real problems came along. The soil engineer said that there were too many organic materials in the ground and that the new foundation would end up failing because of these problems.

The solution ended up requiring a full basement to be installed and the footings for the walls would be supported by steel piers rammed into the earth. Quite pricey but still not a financial challenge for me.

The engineering issues required a consult with an architect and she recommended that since the house would now have a full basement and not just a crawlspace that we make it into additional living space. One of the things I opted to do was to install a windowless guest suite that would double as a storm shelter. To add a little mystery to the place the architect hid the door behind a well crafted wall panel.

You'd never know the guest suite was there unless you already knew it was there.

After nine months of work the house had been restored to her original glory but with some modern improvements that had been tastefully incorporated into the original design. The kitchen looked all original because the refrigerator and dish washer were hidden behind period cabinet doors, the central heat and air were carefully masked by period wall registers, and the big screen television would hide behind a perfect wainscoting when not in use.

Years of paint had been removed to reveal the original woodwork that had been designed by the home's architect, Francis Barry Byrne. You could see the Prairie School influence on Byrne's interpretation of the Craftsman movement and the result was simply amazing. That anyone had ever laid paint over such work was a crime.

The following few months had me busy working on the landscape and then bothering to find some actual work. My job search was brief and my new posting at a local railroad was a great fit for my resume.

That led to my next step and that was dating.

For a number of reasons none of my dates ever seemed to work out very well. None of the women I met did it for me. They were usually too concerned with other things in life to seem like they'd want to be the traditional wife and mother-of-my-children that I wanted from them.

It was nineteen months after the house was completed when one spring day we had a tornado warning and I retreated to my storm shelter to wait it out. As soon as I closed the heavy steel door the sounds of the outside world were gone. The sirens and the wind were not to be heard. I also imagined that I could not be heard outside.

That started me to thinking about maybe having a guest in my guest suite.

Having access to the railroad's machine shop it was an easy matter to convert the storm door to being opened only from the outside except by a little trick I could easily keep secret. Then I removed the phone line from the suite by pulling the wires up through the conduit. With the steel reinforced walls forming an effective Faraday cage there was not only no cell phone reception inside the room there was also no Wi-Fi signal even from my router just one floor above.

Anyone in this room would be totally isolated from the world.

With all of the meticulous planning and work I'd put into the house and the guest suite I had actually given very little thought to who would be the new occupant.

Over the coming weeks and months I found myself ruling out the women my own age simply because no matter how much I'd try they'd never be what I wanted. I needed someone younger. Not ridiculously young, of course, but college age would be perfect. Old enough to understand the world but not so old that she'd be set in her ways.

That had me looking at the girls at the local coffee shop. Then it was the young women at the hair place I frequented. Then it was the young women I'd run into going to and from work.

This one time I was at a coffee place and contemplating the little blonde barista getting forced into my car I stirred from my daydream and realized that I just didn't have it in me to kidnap anyone. And if I did kidnap someone I even vaguely knew then the odds were that the police would eventually find me.

It was with almost a sense of loss that I gave up on my idea. The fantasy of having someone all to myself simply did not comport with my abhorrence of what it would take to make such a thing a reality. It's just not me.

The leaves started to turn color and the air took on a crispness to announce the coming of fall. My lovely home was most comfortable in this time and it was not uncommon for me to fall asleep in my Gustav Stickley original chair.

Thus it occurred one Friday night in late October that I was awakened to someone pounding on my very solid front door.

I opened the door to see who it was and in stumbled a very rude and very obviously drunk person dressed up as Harley Quinn.

"About time you opened the door! Hey..." she looked around and then looked at me, "You're not Brian! Where the hell is Brian?"

That was the last coherent thing she said before she puked on the hardwood floor and then passed out.

I sighed at the intrusion and then set about making sure she didn't choke to death on her vomit. After that I cleaned up the floor to prevent her sick from ruining the new varnish.

As she lay on the floor I contemplated calling the police to have her hauled off to sober up.

That was when I started to give her a better look.

I noticed that she had a wig on and when I pulled it off of her head a luxurious tangle of natural red hair cascaded forth. And then I noticed that her skin wasn't pale from makeup but that it was her natural shading as a true ginger. She was maybe all of one hundred and fifteen pounds, I'd say she was about five foot and two inches tall, and the "EZE" wrist band she wore clearly made her a college girl.

"EZE" stood for Epsilon Zeta Epsilon which was one of the sororities at Rockhurst University. The local joke was that the members were all 'easy' girls because of the acronym of EZE.

I wondered how she'd ended up in my home. Opening the front door I looked around and found no trace of a strange car, her possible friends, or anyone else.

Closing the door I locked it. Then I took a deep breath and turned around to see her still passed out on my floor. A quick check verified she was still breathing.

I also checked for a purse and finding none I quickly searched for a wallet, keys, or phone. Again, I found nothing.

That meant that nothing of hers was telling anyone else where she was at the moment. No phone, no cell-enabled keys, nothing.

I pondered my next move for all of thirty seconds.

Maybe less.

I gathered her up and carried her down the stairs. She mumbled a little as I fumbled with the panel that hid the door to the guest suite.

Then she was safely inside my...what to call it? It was too nice to call it a cell so I just decided to call it her new home.

I sat her up on the bed and then caught the scent of vomit and cheap vodka. My decision to undress her was then somewhat defensible. After all, who would want to sleep in shorts and a t-shirt covered with puke? Right?

So off came the "Daddy's Girl" t-shirt and I gasped at the view of her flawless alabaster skin. The top part of her modest breasts could be seen and I estimated that they were 34B and after I took off her bra I checked and congratulated myself for getting that right.

The shoes, socks, and shorts came off next and I decided to leave her with the panties. At least for now.

I guess I should mention that I was rock hard by this point.

While I elected to leave her alone to sleep off her drunk I will plead guilty to allowing myself to stroke her perfect breasts with their perfect little gumdrop nipples. A little attention and her nipples responded to me quite pleasantly!

I eased her back into the bed and lay her on her side just in case she had any more to puke up. I didn't want to go through all of this and then have her choke to death.

With that I closed and locked the door to her room and then made my way upstairs. Her soiled clothes came with me and I thought about washing them but then decided to just toss them into the embers of the fireplace. It took a few moments but then the flames rose up and burnt off the remnants of her costume.

Shutting off the lights I made a few sly looks out the windows and was happy to see the neighborhood was peacefully slumbering and completely unaware of what I was doing.

A couple shots of whiskey and I was off to bed.

I was up early on Saturday morning and started by making coffee. I had my own cup first and then took a nice hot cup downstairs to my guest.

She was still quite groggy when I opened the door.

"Good morning!" I said cheerfully as I set her cup of coffee on the bedside table.

"Yeah...", she responded, "...where am I?"

"You don't know?" I asked.

She nodded that she really didn't know.

"You forced your way into my house last night and then you puked on my floor before you passed out."

She put a hand to her forehead, "Oh God, I knew I was drinking too much!"

She sat up and then she noticed something else. Her eyes went wide as she looked down at herself.

"Where the hell are my clothes? Did you undress me? What the fuck?"

Then her hand went to her head again. Clearly she was experiencing a very memorable hangover.

"You're fine. The clothes were destroyed and I'll get you new ones soon enough."

She looked at me with her pretty green eyes and there was a mixture of pain, anger, and helplessness in them.

"Here, let's start with some introductions. My friends call me Baz, what's your name?"

She pulled the blanket up to cover herself. "I'm Jordan and can you get me something to wear and maybe get me a phone so I can call someone to pick me up?"

"Yeah, sure, but first why don't you tell me what happened?"

Just asking this seemed to set her at ease.

"I just got into this sorority and the sisters have a Halloween drinking tradition. You have to roll two dice and then take that many shots before you go on a scavenger hunt and I rolled a nine."

I interrupted, "Aren't you too young to be drinking?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I'm eighteen and I don't like to drink that much anyway."

I asked her to continue.

"So I left campus looking for a guy named Brian who was supposed to have the first item on the list and he's supposed to live on East 54th."

I shook my head, "Jordan, that's got to be seven or eight miles from here. How the hell did you end up all on the other side of town?"

It was her turn to shake her head, "I'm not sure. I don't know."

"Okay, so I'm going to go get you something to wear and I suggest that you go take a shower and clean up. You can check the cabinet in the bathroom and you'll find some Tylenol and you might want to take a couple, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks."

I left the room and secured the door. Going upstairs I went through my closet and couldn't find anything even remotely close to her size. I figured she wasn't going anywhere so I got in the car and a few minutes later I had a cozy fleece sweatshirt, you know, one of those long sweatshirts that doubles as a nightgown? And I got it in green because Jordan looks great in green.

All told I was away for about half an hour.

When I got back to her room she was showered and wrapped in a towel. She took the sweatshirt from me and retreated to the bathroom to put it on. When she came out she looked so innocent!

"Hey, um, I tried to open the door and it was locked from the outside. Mind if I ask why?"

This was my now-or-never moment. I could let her go and there was no harm and no foul. I'd be the nice guy who helped her out when she was drunk and who was cool enough not to turn her in for underage drinking.

Or I could say what I actually said.

"Jordan, about that door." This was a serious step so I drew a breath.

"I really don't want you to leave."

And right there was when she went into a complete meltdown. She was justifiably angry and afraid and she didn't hold back.

In a way she was confirming for me that Fate had picked her for me. She was spunky and she didn't back down from a fight even when the opponent was stronger and twice her size. She was feisty in the way that red haired women are said to be feisty and with her petite size it made her maddeningly attractive to me.

She made threats about what her parents and brothers would do to me, she threatened me with the police, she threatened me with a beating, and then I held up a hand to interrupt.

"WHAT?" she shouted.

"I'm going to let you calm down and when I come back I'll serve you some dinner and we'll talk. Calmly, okay?"

She scrambled to race past me to the door and I easily scooped her up and tossed her back on the bed.

She made another run at the door as I closed it and secured it. It didn't matter now if she was screaming her head off because no one would hear it.

I went outside to do my usual Saturday chores and wave at the neighbors as usual. The point of the exercise was to be normal and not to give anyone a reason to wonder if anything was different at my house. It worked, too.

Come dinner time I made a modest pasta dish and brought it downstairs. When I opened the door she was sitting on the bed and was much calmer than before.

"You might want to eat this while it's hot." I said as I handed her the plate.

She looked as if she was going to throw it at me.

"Jordan, if you throw that at me I'll just have to take a shower right here."

"I won't throw it at you."

I smiled. "Good. Now let's talk."

Over the next couple hours we talked and while she was initially very cold to me she eventually eased up and became a bit of a chatter box. I heard all about her growing up in Michigan, this being her first time away from her family, how she liked a Catholic university, and her plans to get a degree in communications.

When I asked her if she planned on having a family someday she said she would but that she wanted to live her life first and then maybe find someone to marry. For now she'd never even had a boyfriend and I was pretty happy about that part.

I asked her what her Catholic view on birth control was and she very bluntly told me that she was against the Pill because it violated her views on life but she was okay with condoms.

Then she looked me straight in the eye and asked me if I was going to rape her.

"I'd rather not. I think I'd like it to be your idea when the time comes."

She visibly hardened herself and then replied, "That time will never come."

I left her alone to sleep for the night.

The next morning was better. She accepted breakfast without any drama but did ask me if I was ever going to let her go. I told her that maybe someday I would but not right now.

For the next two months we went on like this. We'd talk about the future, she'd ask to be let go, and then we'd talk some more.

One Thursday night before Christmas she asked me what it would take for her to be free again. I told her I was waiting for her to take the next step and I was willing to wait for her to do that.

The next night when I got home from work I made dinner as usual and then went downstairs. Our usual banter was exchanged and we had dinner together.

When I went to leave her for the night I gathered up the dishes and was about to close the door when I heard her say, "Wait!"

I stopped and opened the door to look at her. She was clearly about to say something important.

"Maybe after you put the dishes away you can come back?"

I looked her in the eye, "Jordan, tell me why I'd come back here. To do what?"

Her hand went to mine. "Maybe I've waited long enough."

I leaned down to kiss her to see if she was serious and she did a pretty good job of holding still as I lightly kissed her on the lips. I could tell she wasn't 100% sure of what she was doing but that her decision was more a deliberate choice and not something from the heart.

Which was fine by me.

I put the dishes away and then went to clean up. I took a quick shower and got on a shave to clear my five o'clock shadow before putting on the barest hint of cologne.

Given that I was already getting hard I just put on a robe and then headed off to my first 'date' with Jordan.

When I got into the room she was sitting on the bed in her usual sweatshirt but I did notice her slipper socks were off and her pretty feet were bare. I closed the door and let it lock and then I turned to her.

"Jordan, is this going to be your first time?"

She nervously nodded and said 'Yes' at the same time.

I walked over and sat next to her before asking why she wanted to do this.

"Can I be honest? Really honest?" she asked.

"Of course, you can. Go ahead."

"I'm so bored. I know this is wrong but I just want you to be here and I want to do something new and I think I just want to have sex and know what it's like instead of waiting a bunch more years for no reason."

I smiled a little. "So you just want to use me for sex, is that right?"

She nervously laughed and shrugged.

"That's okay." I leaned in and kissed her. "I'd rather you be honest with me."

I stood up and had her stand up. She looked up at me and I pulled her close to kiss her. This time she started to respond so I took my time and gently shared a long kiss with her.

I couldn't hide my hardness and she modestly tried to step away from it.

My robe dropped to the floor and I took her small hand and guided it to my warmth. She sharply drew a breath as she touched it and then she lightly caressed it. I reached down to her hips and gathered up her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. When it came off her red hair flowed down and around her body, almost hiding her little gumdrops that I'd be longing to see again.

I noticed her panties were already off.

The sheets were pulled back on the bed and when I guided her to it she lay down on her back with her hands defensively covering her perky breasts.

"Can you turn off the light?" she asked.

"No, I want to see you." My voice became a little huskier as I got onto the bed.

Her pussy hair was just as bright red as the hair on her head. It was all I could do not to just force myself onto her.

I know I should have been more patient and kissed her and played with her first but I'd already waited over two months for this moment and I wasn't interested in waiting any longer.

Her legs were straight out and tightly together and I gently took them by the knees. She resisted but then went along as I pulled her knees up and out to make way for me. A hand darted down between her legs to cover her pussy as her flower opened for me.

I let my weight slowly press down on her until she pulled her hand back. My lips sought out her neck and I kissed her as I started to grind myself into her.

My cock ran across her pussy lips and I felt a little moisture.