Being Mr. Nice Guy

When she came over, I tried. I really tried.

This story was written for the

750 Word Project 2024

. The story between the line and the asterisk closure has exactly 750 words according to Google Docs and Lit's story editor, while Word inexplicably say its 751. Go figure. The intent is to be short and to the point, leaving a lot to the imagination. Hope you enjoy!

© SouthernCrossfire - 2024. All rights reserved.

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She was a knockout and I wanted her.

I watched as she approached the bar, loving the way her dress fit her, the way she moved. She was a wet dream waiting to happen, and I was the dreamer. Then she came my way, and my dream grew.

When she sat down, I saw the sadness in her eyes, which were fixed on her hands, studying them intently rather than searching the bar for anyone, either in particular or in general.

The bartender started toward her but I signaled and she nodded just before the woman looked up, her gaze on me.

"Hi, ma'am, I'm Dustin. May I buy you a drink?"

She frowned and there was fire in her reply. "Am I old enough to be a ma'am, too?"

In truth, she appeared to be close to my age, probably early to mid-forties, so I gave a little nod. "My parents taught me that any woman one doesn't know, of whatever age, deserves that respect...at least until she does something to prove otherwise."

"Sorry, rough day. Didn't mean to bite your head off. I'm Jill."

"Oh, I think it's still in place, thanks," I replied with a chuckle. "It's nice to meet you, Jill. What would you like?"

She ordered a whiskey sour. "A really rough day."

"Sorry to hear that," I said, moving to the stool beside her. "Want to talk about it? Or maybe something else to forget it?"

There was that hard look again as she looked me over, glancing now at my hands. "Are you married?"

"No, not for several years. My wife decided she needed something on the side, with me still footing the bill. I divorced her when I found out."

"Cheaters. God I hate them." It was on the tip of her tongue, but then it spilled out in a torrent. "I went home early today and found my cheating asshole of a husband in bed with a woman from down the street. Her husband works at home so she came over to our house. To our bed. Ugh!"

"I'm sorry. Where are you going from here? Divorce? Reconciling?"

"I have no idea," she said, fighting tears.

Over the next hour or so, she poured out her heart, with me telling her just enough about my troubles to keep her going. During that time, my initial thought of picking her up, taking her home, and having mad, meaningless sex with her faded as I felt more and more like the friend she desperately needed.

Evidently, she didn't get the memo.

"Dustin," she said, "you asked earlier about where I was going from here. Your place. That's where I'm going. Now."

Her hand ran up my thigh as she said it and then she reached out and kissed me, soft, sweet, and so enticing. I hesitated at first but then went with it, closing my eyes as we lost ourselves in that brief union. We parted just seconds later, looking into each other's eyes.

She'd had two drinks—or was it three? The kiss was heated, needy even. In addition, she was fairly petite so I wasn't sure how much was Jill doing the speaking and acting and just how much was the booze doing it for her.

"Jill, no. Let me take you home."

"No! Gregory, the asshole, will be there. Your place. Please?"

I agreed, not sure if she'd make it or if I'd have to carry her the four blocks.

Somehow, she made it, so I offered her another chance to go into my guest room and sleep it off but she started removing my shirt and my pants and her clothes weren't far behind.

She was even more beautiful than I'd expected.

We were kissing.

Touching.

Caressing.

Loving.

I briefly felt bad about not being the nice guy she really needed, of taking advantage of her, but then she was rolling a condom in place and sliding her heat down on me. Slow at first, restraint was soon gone as we pounded together, going for an incredible ride, over and over, harder and harder, until we reached Nirvana.

As we lay there afterward, I smiled, holding her naked against me. I'd tried to be a nice guy, to help her, but tonight she'd needed a bad boy more and I'd filled the role.

Twice.

Thinking of all that had happened, I decided I'd try to be a nice guy again in the morning.

Maybe I'd make her breakfast or something.

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