Returning the favor

This is not exactly about lightning striking in the same place twice, but it’s close. In the middle of November of the year after he met Mary Nelson, George Chitwood went past the Greyhound station after work on Friday. No, you haven’t been here before, not exactly. He did this a couple of times a month for some years, especially on Fridays. Again he was asked about money for a meal by a young woman. Again, as seventeen months before, he made an offer to pay for the meal rather than give money, and offered the couch if it was needed. This coincidence started to get to him, so he rolled with it and they went to the same restaurant. The woman’s name was Elizabeth Cooper, and she was about twenty. She had been travelling from New Jersey down to her grandmother’s place in North Carolina. She had a job lined up there starting on Monday morning, but she missed the connection to Asheville because the bus broke down on the Jersey turnpike. When she got into D.C., she found that her money was gone. It was either stolen outright, found on the floor by someone who kept it, or maybe left at State Roads somewhere. The driver helped her look for it, but without any luck. She still had the ticket, so she could have survived until the next bus came on Saturday morning and through the eight-hour ride to Asheville, but she would have been awfully hungry when she got there. She figured that George had a kind face and she tried asking him for money. Elizabeth said that he still had a kind face while he was stuffing it, so she took up his offer of the couch. Well, she was bolder than Mary Nelson started out to be, maybe from being older. Maybe it was as well that she was just passing through if there was any chance her, um, appetites were like Mary’s, George thought. He started paying attention to the differences — blond hair, thinner face, bigger boobs — to avoid thinking that he was in some great grinding cycle without end. She was more talkative than Mary, and quicker-witted (or maybe just more articulate) and George found himself liking her fairly well by the time the meal was over. If she were staying around… Well, that would be a different situation. They walked to his apartment (still the same as the year earlier) and George made the comment that he had made to Mary those months before about sexual interest being reciprocated if it was there. She kissed him and said no. Oh, well. It was worth trying. Elizabeth put on earphones and listened to the radio, then she got bored and read sections of the newspaper as George finished them. She was half-dozing when he said goodnight to her and went to bed a little early. It felt odd to have a woman sharing the apartment and not sharing his bed. It felt even odder to his subconscious, it seemed, because his dreams that night were about undressing her and raising her knees and sliding slowly into her… In the morning George moved carefully out of bed to avoid waking her and he went into the bathroom. He had not remembered the night before to leave his bathrobe right to hand (it was in fact in the bathroom, since he seldom used it) so he had to streak. But the sound of the shower, or maybe just the daylight, must have woken her. The shower stall door opened and Elizabeth was standing there stark naked. “Is there room for me? Do you mind if I join you?” she said. This was the sort of request that George found it very difficult to refuse a naked woman with a great body. Not that many had ever asked, at least not as many as he might have liked. Elizabeth stood in the falling water looking lean and young and beautiful. “I lay there last night thinking about the way you acted, and the way you looked, and being a few feet from you and I started getting horny. I wanted to masturbate, but I decided instead that if I felt the same way in the morning, I would go to you instead. I did, so here I am. That glimpse of you zipping by me was the final temptation. “This might be the last chance I will have for a while to get any action, since I’ll be moving in with my grandmother and I don’t know anybody down there. You might say I don’t know you, but I think I can pretty well judge you from what I’ve seen. I mean you don’t have any diseases or anything, I’m sure.” “Certainly nothing I know of.” “And I’m on the pill. I’ve been thinking about this,” she said, reaching between his legs. “Though there’s more to it than I thought.” She soaped his penis and worked at it until it became long and hard (which really wasn’t much time at all). Then she pushed his erection to the horizontal and clung to him, sticking it out between her legs, and moved back and forth rubbing its length against her labia. “I can’t take very much of this,” George said to her. “I would be glad to take all of it,” she responded. They were not talking about quite the same thing. George shut off the water and grabbed a large towel off the rack, then he led her back to the bed. He spread the towel over the sheet to keep it dry, and then he spread Elizabeth over the towel. He bent over her body and used his lips and tongue on her nipples. She grabbed his head, perhaps to work off the nervous energy that was building up in her. He pulled away from her hands and moved down. He heard her gasp as she figured out what he was going to do, then again and louder at the first contact of his tongue down there. “I’ve never had anyone do that, it feels strange but so good,” she whispered. George worked his way in and around, as deep in as his tongue would go, spreading her open with his fingers to force the tongue in as she jerked and shuddered under him. “What in the world are you doing? It feels like you are pulling me apart, but it doesn’t hurt! I can’t believe you can get your tongue in that far! Oh! OHHH!” Then he shifted around to lie on the towel alongside her and build her the same way toward another climax. This time her hand reached timidly out to his erection and stroked it, then brought it toward her mouth. She wasn’t sure just what to do, but it was very nice regardless. Her tongue flicked around the end of his erection, then up the underside of the shaft as if she were licking a popsicle. She kissed the tip then and stretched her lips slowly down, taking inch after inch into her mouth. After a while, George pulled away from her and got above her. “Oh, yes, lift my legs up like that,” she said. “That’s always nice and it’s so good that way.” He poised just at the entrance of her tunnel with his hard shaft, wet with her saliva, barely parting her folds. Then he came down. “Oh, Jesus, all the way in at once!” The hard fast deep entry was a shock to her nervous system, almost overwhelming her with sexual sensation. And he did not let her recover. George pounded hard at her, pausing each time at the deepest point, Her vagina soon started to twitch and contract whenever his testicles slapped against her. It happened more and more until they exploded together. Perhaps twenty minutes later, they got up and went into the shower again. They went to the bus station that afternoon, and George saw her off to her grandmother’s. Elizabeth wrote a week later to thank him for his hospitality. Himself, George thought it had been well repaid already.

*************

About a year later, George Chitwood was sent down for computer training in Atlanta. His agency was willing to pay plane fare for him by coach, but he decided to take a little off the top and drive both ways, and pocket the rest of the money. That was the theory. The reality was that the car didn’t make it back. It broke down in Asheville, North Carolina on Saturday morning. The garage wouldn’t take a check for the repairs, wouldn’t accept his credit card, and would only take cash. That blew the difference he had figured on pocketing, plus more. In fact, it left him with two choices. Either he payed their whole charge in cash and had no money for a hotel room, then left Monday morning and got to work a couple of hours late; or he came back down to Asheville to pick up the car. George was standing there wishing he knew somebody in Asheville, when he remembered that he did. Sort of, anyway. Elizabeth Cooper had stayed with him one night back in November of the year before, and had shared his bed, so to speak, on the morning after. It was worth a try. There was only one Elizabeth Cooper in the telephone directory, at a different address than the one in his personal phone book. That either meant a different person, or she had moved out of her grandmother’s. He hoped for the second. It was. She remembered him, and when he told her the story she told him how to get to her place. When he got there, he told her right off that he of course did not expect quite the hospitality that she had shown him back in Washington. Elizabeth smiled and said that he was quite right not to expect it, but he seemed too nice a person to expect it anyway. George raised his eyebrows and agreed. She did ask his help with one possible problem. She had been dating a local man and getting rather close to him. She had not yet gotten to the stage of going to bed with him, but it was close. She liked him, and it really might spoil things if he knew there was another man staying in her apartment. So she wanted George to stay out of sight and dead silent if he were in the place. It would only be for a few moments at about seven that evening and maybe about midnight when they came back. Of course, if they spent the night at his place, there was no problem — the man wouldn’t need to come in on Sunday morning. This was easy enough. The two of them were only there for a few minutes in the evening. When they came back at quarter to twelve, however, the man pitched it to Elizabeth hot and heavy, and she only convinced him to go home at one in the morning. She knocked on the door of the side room George was staying in and thanked him for staying invisible. George saw that she was flushed and her clothing was disarranged; it had been a close thing, he thought. George had been sleeping until they came home, and he just tossed on a bathrobe when she knocked. He took it off again and had almost drifted back to sleep when Elizabeth turned the knob of the door again. George woke up immediately and saw that she was now in a short red nightgown. She fumbled for words and finally said that her boyfriend had gotten her worked up and eager to go to bed with him. She might have at another time just brought herself off with masturbation. But she thought about George… She knew that she could trust George. Even if he wanted to talk about this, he couldn’t possibly harm her reputation except in a city hundreds of miles away. Would he be offended at being asked to be a substitute for someone else? He would not mind at all, under the circumstances. He got up from his bed and walked naked to hers. They lay down together and George found that the spot where she had been was still warm. Her body was also warm under the nightgown, especially her firm breasts, which his lips enjoyed kissing a great deal. When George kissed her further down, between her legs, she reacted more freely than she had a year before. She told him that the prior occasion with him had been her first time at that, but not her last. She had learned to like it. She had George turn around and she worked on him the same way. She showed him that she had learned other things in that last year. Before she had fumbled at this, but now she had a delicate and sweet touch at making him grow.

She raised herself up after a while and came back down, sitting on his hips and taking him all the way up. Her legs were spread wide apart and she built quickly. But not to a climax; she stopped short and had him roll onto her without pulling out. She slowly worked her legs up until her knees were at her nipples and George gave her another half-dozen hard thrusts that took them both over the top. In the morning George awoke to find her washing his penis with a washcloth. Then she came down with her mouth and proved even more what she had learned since that stop in Washington. The semen shot out sweet and hot under her tongue and hand. George thought maybe he could have done yet more with her on Sunday night if he had pushed for it, but he didn’t. He also might have ruined it all. He left her early on Monday morning and drove back to D.C.