I’ll Take Care of You — Ch 01
The bus station was dark, dingy, and almost deserted when I finally gathered my courage and made myself get off the bus. I looked around, struggling not to let the tears brimming in my eyes fall.
I arrived alone, scared, and with barely three hundred dollars in my purse. I only knew one person here, and that was an old friend named Bethany that I had gone to high school with. I hadn’t seen her in almost a year but hoped she would answer when she saw my name on her caller id. I sat nervously on a bench near the ticket counter, clutching the phone, and was about to hang up when Bethany finally picked up the call.
“Riley, oh my God Riley, is it really you?” she shouted excitedly into the phone.
“Beth, yes it’s me . . . how are you?” I asked. After a bit of casual conversation, I got to the point of my call and explained that I needed a place to stay for a couple of days until I could find someplace permanent. Fortunately, Beth said I could stay with them (her and her boyfriend), for as long as I needed to as long as I didn’t mind sleeping on the couch. In the midst of thanking her, I burst into tears of relief. Bethany reassured me that everything would be fine and that she would help me find a place to stay and maybe even a job.
“You’ll be fine, Riley, stop worrying. I’m going to send my boyfriend Brian to pick you up, so in about fifteen minutes, be out in front of the station so you can see him, he’ll be driving a light blue mustang with a red racing stripe on the side.
“Riley, I’m so glad you’re here . . . I’ll see you in a little bit,” Bethany said and then disconnected the call.
Fifteen minutes later, I was pacing in front of the station anxiously scanning the street for a light blue mustang with a red racing stripe. At the sound of a beeping car horn, I turned to see the blue Mustang parked near the curb. Behind the wheel sat a nice looking man with a carefully trimmed beard who looked like he might have been a few years older than Beth and me, and from what I could see of his build, must have been into weight training. I assumed he must be Brian, Bethany’s boyfriend.
“Riley, Riley, over here,” he shouted. I ran over to the car and got in.
“Hi, I’m Riley Alston, Beth’s friend, and you must be Brian?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’s right. Well, let’s get going, Bethany’s waiting for us.”
Once I was in the car seated next to Brian, it was as if alarms were going off in my head. I couldn’t wait until we got to Bethany’s apartment. Maybe it was the way he kept stealing looks at me and saying things that had obvious sexual meaning. I didn’t feel comfortable, and I didn’t like him. By the time we arrived at Bethany’s, I was pressed so tightly against the passenger door that I could feel the handle digging into my side.
Bethany and I hugged, laughed, and cried when we saw each other, it had been a long time for old friends to be apart. Brian chose not to join us but preferred to drink beer, stare at me and play his video games, while Bethany and I sat up talking until midnight, making plans to begin my search for a job and a permanent place to live the next morning. I said good night to Bethany and, after a quick shower, snuggled under the covers on the couch and was quickly asleep.
I could feel myself being pulled into wakefulness, and the sound of moaning and mumbling as my legs were opened wider and a wave of warmth undulated through me. I opened my eyes, and although still groggy with sleep, I tried to scream before a hand was roughly clamped over my mouth. Brian, between my legs, had pulled himself up onto his knees and was bending over me.
“Be quiet!” he growled between clenched teeth.
His hand brushed over my nipple, making it immediately hard and erect.
“Because I like you, Riley, I’m gonna let you decide . . . you want me to fuck you, or you wanna suck my dick?” I could only stare at him, my eyes as big as saucers. When I didn’t respond, he stretched his massive body out, covering mine, and with his right hand, grabbed my pussy and started to position his cock to enter me. When I felt the tip of his cock, I swear, I was trying to push him off me like a crazy woman, all the while praying that Bethany would hear us and come into the living room. I began to struggle in earnest, but it was useless, Brian was a weight lifter and had to outweigh me by at least 100 pounds, I was trapped beneath him, legs splayed apart, pussy open and wet from his violation. Tears were trailing down the side of my face, my cries of, “Please, Brian,” quickly muffled by his hand.
Something made Brian stop, and he looked at me . . .
“All right, All right, I don’t need to force no bitch to let me fuck her. I’m gonna move my hand, and I’m warning you not to scream, you understand?
Terrified, I nodded my head.
“I’m gonna let you suck my dick, Riley, and when you make me cum, I want you to swallow all of it, every fucking drop. illegal bahis Beth won’t swallow, but I know you will . . . won’t you?” he asked threateningly.
I nodded my head.
Brian told me to get up and kneel between his legs. Squeezing my cheeks, he tilted my head up to look at him and said, “Watch your teeth, and don’t you bite me, slut!”
His cock was hard and big, and at first, I could only get his huge, spongy cockhead into my mouth. Gagging, I slowly started bobbing my head up and down, coaxing his hardening cock deeper into my mouth.
All I remember of that night was his large tattooed forearms as he held my face in place; his red, engorged cock and the sound of him grunting as he rammed his cock forward and finally came like a bull down my throat.
That morning over coffee, I gave Bethany a weak explanation and told her I had thought about it most of the night and had decided it would be better for me to just rent a room for the time being. I didn’t want to be an imposition on her and Brian. She was obviously taken by surprise and asked if Brian had said anything to me that upset me, I told her of course not and then reassured her that if I were going to be on my own, then I needed to be on my own and not use her as a crutch.
Though disappointed, she accepted my explanation, and we spent the morning going through the real estate and rental listings. Miraculously, we found one that sounded too good to be true, and yet it was just what I needed and could afford. After calling the contact number, I spoke with Dr. Michelson, the person who had placed the ad. It was a small in-law apartment tucked back from the street surrounded by trees and flowers. The owner’s son lived in the main house, and the lovely in-law apartment was being rented in the rear. It was perfect, and I readily jumped at the chance to rent it. I moved in a day later, and that’s when I met Philip Michelson, the owner’s son.
The landlord, Dr. Michelson, was very nice and had stopped by with some papers for me to sign, and as we talked, ate freshly baked cookies and sipped coffee, I mentioned that while I had enough money to cover my rent, I did hope to find a job soon.
“Hmmm, he said. What’s your work background?”
“Unfortunately, not very much work experience. I did go to college for a couple of years, and I have an AA in Business, I’m really good on the computer, and if I do say so myself, I’m pretty good at managing an office.”
Dr. Michelson was a chiropractor with a busy, thriving practice, after a long pause, he said, “I have an offer for you. I need some part-time help at my office, mainly clerical and appointment scheduling. You could build up your resume and your work experience and help me out at the same time. The job would require you to work four hours each day, and I would pay you minimum wage, and to sweeten the deal, I will give you thirty percent off your rent. That would probably be enough to take care of your expenses and cover your rent. With the discount on the rent and careful management of your money, you should be okay. What do you think?
“What’s there to think about,” I said excitedly, “of course I accept.”
I didn’t have any references, but I could tell Dr. Michelson liked me and wanted me to work for him. I would start the following day. I was advised to spend the morning getting settled in at the apartment, and in the afternoon, I would report to work at Dr. Michelson’s office.
Dr. Michelson reminded me of my Dad. I had loved my Dad very much, and I had looked to him for guidance. Always an impressionable, submissive natured girl, now, as a woman looking back, I can see how he shaped my perspective of what kind of men I would become involved with and be attracted to time and again. In a way, I quickly began to look to Dr. Michelson for the same kind of guidance, support, and mentoring I enjoyed with my father.
Dr. Michelson was in his mid-fifties, an “old man,” someone I never thought I’d be attracted to. Medium build and tall at six feet, he was hairy-chested, with a sizable belly that would continue to grow if he didn’t start taking better care of himself. A head of thick silvery gray hair, pale blue eyes, strong, determined facial features, and a big, thick, uncut cock with large hairy balls that I am sure he was quite proud of. Despite his age, there was a sexuality about him that was undeniable.
It was late afternoon when I arrived at his office, and the Doctor had just seen his last patient. Dr. Michelson introduced me to Barbara, his medical receptionist, and then ushered me into his office. As I sat at the empty desk filling out various personnel forms, I caught him staring at me.
“I’m leaving Doctor, I’ll see you two tomorrow,” called Barbara as she picked up her purse and locked the office door behind her. I was seated at the desk, and he stood over me, explaining the filing system and other office procedures.
“Unbutton your blouse,” Dr. Michelson said, fully expecting me to illegal bahis siteleri do as he requested.
Caught off guard by his request and a bit unnerved that he apparently had no problem in asking me to take my blouse off, my first impulse was to get up and leave. It then occurred to me that if this was what I needed to do to get this job, then I’d do it . . . I needed this job. Unable to look at him, with a slight hesitation, I unbuttoned my blouse and felt the Doctor reach around me from behind and fondle my breasts.
“Doctor Michelson, w-w-what are you doing?” I asked.
“Very nice . . . a good handful of tit is more than enough for me. Lightly tanned breasts, wide dark areolas, hard erect nipples, perhaps a “C” cup, 36C? Beautiful,” he said as he came around in front of me, and holding my breast in his large, warm hand lowered his mouth to suck. I was shocked and then surprised at how pleasurable his mouth felt and how wet I had become so quickly. As the dampness between my legs increased, I tried to pull away only to have his grip tighten on my arm.
“That was excellent, Riley. I think you’ll work out very well, very well indeed, Sweetheart. Do you have any questions?”
Confused by his abrupt businesslike manner, I silently shook my head, indicating I had no questions.
“No, I don’t have any questions, Dr. Michelson.”
“Good, good girl, oh and by the way, when we’re not at work, you don’t need to call me Dr. Michelson, please remember to call me Aiden.”
Despite that strange first day at work, it was never mentioned again. The funny thing is, Aiden and I, despite our age difference (some thirty years), became good friends. It was the proverbial plutonic relationship that allowed me the freedom to enjoy being with Aiden, sharing experiences with him, learning from him without the pressure to have sex. We cared about each other, and I think that’s what made our friendship so special.
Perhaps four months after moving into the in-law apartment behind the main house, Philip (Aiden’s son) and I began dating. Though I don’t think Aiden was particularly thrilled with the idea of us dating or becoming a couple, he kept his opinion and comments to himself.
Things were going great with Philip, and we enjoyed several months of just getting to know each other. Seemingly the only point of contention in our relationship was our having sex. Sure, I sucked him off whenever he wanted, but I wasn’t ready to have intercourse, and when I think back, I now understand and can see that there was something about Phillip that bothered me. At the time, I was still a virgin, and though I knew that at some point, I would probably have sex with Philip, I simply wasn’t ready to take that step, something was holding me back. My refusal would always lead to an argument, and it would infuriate him. Eventually, he would do a Jekyll/Hyde and storm out or roll over and not speak to me.
It went on like that for a while until things finally came to a head. We had had oral sex one night, but it wasn’t enough, and he wanted to have “real” sex. When I refused, he’d gotten out of bed, put on his clothes, and left without a word about where he was going or when he would return.
Later that night, I awoke to him, crawling under the covers, smelling strongly of alcohol. Disgusted, I turned my back to him and closed my eyes. I cringed and pulled away from him when I felt his hand roughly squeeze my breast and pinch my nipple so hard I cried out with pain.
“Get away from me, Philip,” I demanded.
“Come on, Riley, you’re my girlfriend, we should be making love,” he said drunkenly.
“Stop it. Leave me alone!” I said
“You bitch,” he growled.
He forced me onto my stomach and got on top of me, grinding and rubbing his leaking cockhead along the crack of my ass. I felt him take his cock and press the tip against my hole and start to push it in.
“Oh my God,” I screamed, “Philip don’t . . . please.”
Unmoved, he continued until his swollen cockhead with a slow, agonizing pain pushed pass my tight sphincter ring. Stunned, I lay motionless under him. I could barely breathe as the rising panic gripped my chest and then a sudden intake of air followed by my muffled scream into the pillow as he forced his cock further inside me. Inch by slow inch, he worked his cock inside me, then to my horror, he slipped his hand under my hips and began rubbing my clit, forcing my body to respond. My legs tensed, and then my pussy as if in final acquiescence started to cum with a gut-wrenching orgasm on his cock.
As I began to come down from my orgasm, I could feel my hips involuntarily humping back against his cock as he stroked in and out of my ass, the pain slowly replaced with the pleasure of being filled by him.
“Oh fuck . . . it feels so good, Riley. Warm and so fucking tight; your ass is just like I thought it would be,” he mumbled.
He was so excited that he could only stroke two or three times before he finally canlı bahis siteleri exploded inside me, filling my rectum with his cum. As he emptied himself, he slumped forward onto my back and with his mouth next to my ear, said, “you wouldn’t give me your pussy, so I decided to take your ass,” and after a final hard thrust he pulled out of my ass, and rolling off me and was soon asleep.
I was numb.
Stretched out next to him, his leg resting casually across mine, I lay there crying and hating him for what he had done to me. Philip had destroyed any feelings I might have had for him, and I swore I’d never allow anyone to treat me that way again.
I hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, and looking toward the window, I could see it was just beginning to get light outside. I carefully got out of bed, and walking with some discomfort, made my way to the bathroom, ran a hot bath, and lay in the soothing water soaking.
I didn’t go into work that day or the next, and when Aiden called, I didn’t tell him anything about what had happened the night before. Concerned, Aiden had come by the apartment, and though I knew he sensed something was wrong, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Aiden that Philip had anally forced himself on me.
I told Aiden that I wanted to change the apartment’s door lock, and although never receiving a full explanation from me, he reluctantly agreed. I took out a restraining order against Philip and ignored or deleted his calls, texts, and emails. For all intent and purpose, our relationship ended that night, but that didn’t deter Philip from refusing to let it end, until as he said, “he was ready for it to end.”
Except for my fear that Philip would want to get back at me, slowly things seemed to resume some kind of normalcy, and I found myself turning more and more to Aiden for support and guidance. As I continued to rebuff Philip, he became more insistent in his narcissistic belief that we should be together. Upset by my growing attachment to Aiden, Philip began again calling and texting incessantly and even coming by the apartment in defiance of the restraining order. Any hope that Philip would move on with his life and leave me alone was not going to happen.
Two weeks later, in the middle of the night:
“My God! It’s late, and that frigging phone wouldn’t stop ringing,” Aiden grumbled to himself. As he reached over and picked it up, half expecting it to be a wrong number, as soon as the call connected, he recognized Riley’s voice.
“Aiden . . . Aiden, please come!” Riley shouted hysterically into the phone.
“He’s in the apartment, standing outside my bedroom door . . . . he’s trying to get in! He’s drunk, Aiden, I don’t know, but I’m afraid. Please Aiden hurry . . . he’s going to get in, and he’ll hurt me.”
In the background, I could hear Philip banging on the door and shouting, “Open the fucking door, Riley!”
“Open the fucking door, Riley, or I swear I’ll break it in,” Philip threatened. “You holier than thou little bitch . . . just wait until I get my hands on you. I’m going to fuck that pussy of yours until you beg me to stop and then I’m going to fuck your nice, tight ass again . . .”
“Aiden, Aiden,” she kept repeating my name, “. . . please . . . please help me. Please hurry,” she said again before bursting into tears and more intelligible pleas.”
I heard heavy kicks against the door, and then the bedroom door slammed open against the wall.
“Hang up the phone,” Philip told her
“No! Please Philip, just go away . . . go away, or I’ll call the police,” she threatened. I could hear the muffled voices in the background of them arguing, the sound of a hand slapping flesh, and then the phone went dead.
I threw on my pants and a shirt, grabbed my keys, and tore out of my house. It only took me five minutes to make the short drive. I ran around to the rear of the house and down the pathway that led to Riley’s apartment.
The front door stood open, “Riley, Riley,” I shouted, and when there was no answer, I headed down the hall to Riley’s bedroom.
As I came through the door, my son Philip stood over her adjusting his dick back inside his jeans.
“Hey Dad, just in time, he said. I know you’ve had the hots for her for a while . . . well, she’s all yours now. You’ll like her, she was a virgin, but she has the potential to be a damn good piece of ass,” he said with a sickening laugh.
Before I realized it, I hauled off, and with all of my strength, landed a sounding blow along his jaw. Phillip staggered back, holding his face, and recovering, lunged at me, pushing me into the hallway.
“You fucking son of a bitch,” I growled and tried to take another swing at him. Philip managed to get in a good punch that stunned me just long enough for him to break away and make it out of the front door. Torn between going after him and tending to Riley, it was an easy decision, and I went over and bent down next to her.
Riley was lying on her back, naked on the bedroom floor; her beautiful young body seemed even smaller than it was. In addition to cum covering her breasts and face, her thighs were parted, and an abundance of Philip’s spent cum could be seen slowly dripping out of her abused pussy.