Renee awoke, but not with a start. It was a soft, emerging sense of consciousness, and she was only vaguely aware of the faint smile on her face. She had been curled up on her side, and stretched out to all 5'2" of herself. It was then that she became aware of not being fully covered by the... blanket? She felt for it and cracked an eye open. She was covered only by a t-shirt draped over her; she was on an unfamiliar couch in an unfamiliar place, and in that sleepy place of muddy memory, her heart skipped a beat.
Then the 19-year-old remembered. Yesterday, she had received the phone call which announced she had been unceremoniously evicted from her apartment. An acquaintance from work—a man old enough to be her father—had offered his spare bedroom for a night or two. Renee accepted, and in the comfort of his home she had tried to repay the kindness by using her hand on him. But he desired more, and he took more. Awaking on the couch, Renee ran a hand over her rear end. The cheeks still felt a bit sore from where she had been spread open. Where he had taken her small, puckered tightness.
Renee shuddered, the soft, lazy curves of her body moving. For a moment, the memory of last night made her feel violated. Then she reminded herself that though she had almost told him to not take her there, she had felt his desire. She had felt her burning instinct to please. She had ultimately asked him for it, with her own creamy, high voice. She had been left a sweaty, panting mess, and had fallen asleep on the couch right after quickly cleaning herself.
The living room was bright with early morning light. She sat up, the t-shirt sliding off of her quite large breasts, her wavy brown hair tussled yet reaching her shoulders nonetheless. She looked around the impressive yet restrained living room. She was alone, and the apartment was very quiet. Renee felt out of place, yet had to do something. Her wallet and phone were in the spare bedroom; the only set of clothes she had with her was in the washer, waiting to be dried. There seemed to be only one thing to do: she stood, grabbed the t-shirt and the green panties left tangled from the night before, and went into the bathroom to take a shower. She wished she could stay under the hot water forever. It was a safe place where all the questions in her head did not need answering.
Yet the time came where she needed to get out of the shower, and after she shut the water off and started to dry herself, she became aware of another sound: that of frying. The pleasant curve of her tummy let out a grumble, and Renee became aware for the first time since waking up that she was hungry. She put on the borrowed t-shirt and panties again, and sheepishly made her way into the hallway.
"I'm in the kitchen, Renee!" His voice was deep yet cheery, and Renee felt herself relax. She turned the corner to see him standing at the stove, his back to her. The smell of bacon filled the air.
"Um, hi. Good morning," she said sheepishly, unsure how to proceed.
He turned, his smile wide. "Good morning, you! Did you sleep well?" He opened his arms wide but did not walk forward. He was silently asking for a hug, but letting her decide. Renee felt her body step forward, into his arms. She pressed her head into his chest, feeling his warmth, hearing his heartbeat, loving the feeling of protection as his arms closed around her. Then she felt him pat her rear end. He repeated his question. "Did you sleep well, Renee?"
She nodded, and the hug broke. "Yes, I did. Thank you."
"Breakfast is almost ready." He motioned to the table and added plainly, "Sit down."
A minute earlier, Renee's every intention was to get properly dressed, make her morning-after exit, and figure out the next step now that she was without her own apartment. Now, she was sitting down at his first say so. She sat there, feeling her hunger rise as he silently cooked, his back to her. She felt the silence pressing against her, and found her fingers fiddling with a napkin. It did little to help, and she felt she couldn't formulate in her mind what to say next. Uncertainty flooded her.
Then he was turning around. "Eggs and bacon, just for you." He put two plates on the table; Renee noticed she had extra bacon on her plate. She looked up at him, and he smiled at her. "Something tells me you're a bacon fan," he said earnestly. Barely conscious of the action, Renee's hands moved to tug at the waist of her t-shirt. Her curves made it tight at the tummy. Then he was sitting and said plainly, "So, let's eat."
Renee found the meal simple yet wonderfully delicious. There were a few moments of idle chitchat, and she felt herself once again relaxed and in the moment. Then she cleared her throat and said in a small voice, "After breakfast... I guess I'll throw my clothes in the dryer and be on my way. I appreciate that you let me stay here last—"
He interrupted here with a wave of the hand. "I want you to understand a few things, Renee. One, you may leave whenever you want. If that is what you want. Two, you may stay here as long as you want. Days, weeks, however long it takes for you to get on your feet again. As long as you want, so long as you help out and follow the rules." Renee smiled, feeling relief wash over her. He continued. "What happened last night... it was incredible, it was lovely. It's not the reason I am offering. More doesn't need to happen." Then he repeated, "You just need to carry your weight around here and follow my rules."
Renee blushed at the word "weight." Underneath the table, her fingers were fidgeting with the napkin again. She wondered how he could make his little words tweak her out of the blue.
"Do you agree, Renee?"
She nodded.
