Abby

The first time that I saw Abby I was doing my best to have quiet beer in a crowded Sydney bar. Cigarette smoke was attempting to hold down the noise by sitting on top of it but was fighting a losing battle.

Three seats away an attractive woman who looked to be in her early thirties was desperately trying to ignore a heavily built man who, by getting right in her face, was making it impossible. The situation bore all the hallmarks of a domestic dispute. I knew from bitter experience that the best way to deal with this kind of disagreement was to keep right out of it. But I never learn.

For a short while the man continued to badger her, he was becoming ever more aggressive. Then in that way that women have of saying "This conversation is now over." She picked up her bag swivelled away from him and walked across the bar and out of the door.

For a moment he stood there mouth open looking stupid leading me to think that their argument was indeed over. Then in that way that drunken men have of saying "Bullshit! I ain't even started yet." He banged his glass down on the bar with such force that he smashed it then set off after her. This did not look good I finished my beer then followed him.

It might seem that I was being a little cavalier in finishing my drink before dashing off to rescue the fair damsel but in my experience these things usually resolve themselves if left to their own devices for a short time.

This time the devices had decreed that he hold her by the throat with his left hand with her head jammed against a wall whilst his right hand was cocked and ready to fire. Had he hit her with anything like his full strength, her head had nowhere to go. Bones in her face would be broken, brain damage was distinctly possible. She might even be killed.

I was ten paces away and closing fast but not fast enough so I yelled.

'Hey! Leave the lady alone.'

'Piss off.' He growled without turning his head to me.

'I'll piss off when you leave the lady alone.' Now I was standing alongside him.

'I said piss off'. This time he had the good grace to at least look at me.

'And I said that I will piss off when you leave the lady alone. Now let her go.'

He decided to take my advice but only because he realized that it would be easier to swing a punch at me if he released her. He was big but drunk and lumberingly slow. I could see the punch coming from half a block away making it easy to duck inside and fire off a quick penetrating right hand into his bulging belly. The air shot out of him like a deflating truck tyre as he began to double over.

First law of street fighting,

"Never give a sucker a fighting chance."

Before he could double over I shoved my shoulder into his chest driving him down to the footpath then followed through by straddling him with my knees pinning his shoulders down while my fist poised inches above his face.

'Had enough?'

He nodded his head .Yes.

I rose to my feet keeping a wary eye on him, which turned out to be unnecessary as he rolled over brought his knees up to his chest and began noisily vomiting.

I turned to the woman she looked puzzled. Women are usually bewildered by the speed with which violence occurs. 'Are you OK.' I asked.

She nodded dumbly then added 'Yes thankyou very much.' before bursting into tears.

It struck me that the time for crying was when her head was jammed against the wall but she was probably too terrified to cry back then. I took her by the arm

'C'mon let's get you away from here.'

We had walked a block and turned a corner she had stopped crying before I spoke again.

'I'm Danny. Danny McIver.'

We stopped under a street light she looked up to me. Dark hair, almost black, framed an elfin face with a wide mouth, slightly tip tilted nose and blue eyes that looked as if they were made of silk. That hair those eyes, so Irish that her name had to be something like Siobhan O'Brien. She smiled, eyes crinkled and said

'Abby; Abby Jackson. Thankyou for everything Mr McIver.'

'Danny please.'

'Danny then, and please call me Abby.'

'Pleased to mee'cha Abby.'

We stood shaking hands as if we had just been introduced at a formal gathering. The incongruity of it got to us as we both started laughing.

'I'm sorry for getting you involved in all of this Danny. I didn't mean-----. '

I cut in. 'You don't have to apologise and you don't have to explain.'

'I feel that I at least owe you an explanation.'

'You owe me nothing. But if talking helps go ahead.'

'David; that man back there, used to be my husband.'

'Used to be?'

'Our divorce came through over three months ago but he thinks that he still owns me.'

'Nobody owns anybody.'

'I tried telling David that but every time we meet this kind of thing happens.'

'You mean that it's happened before?'

'Yes. Not always this bad but he is a violent man.'

'Haven't you put a restraining order on him?'

'I didn't dare.'

'C'mon.' I took her arm again as we walked.

'Where are you taking me?'

'To the police station.'

Sergeant Barry Hagan was manning the desk his dark head bowed as if he were studying a document. If I knew Barry that document would be the form guide. We went back a ways. Time was when we had danced around each other in the centre of a boxing ring. That was when I'd learned that the only way to knock Barry Hagan out was to hit him over the head with the corner stool. Only problem was that the rules didn't allow that so I'd had to stand and take what was coming.

'Hi sarge.'

Barry looked up. 'Danny McIver! It's been awhile. To what do we owe this visit business or pleasure?'

'C'mon sarge you know me better than that. If this was a pleasure visit I'd have a slab of beer under my arm.'

'OK. Business it is then. What can I do for you Danny?'

'Not me. This is Abby Jackson she wants to take a violence restraining order against her ex. I just had a quiet word with him.'

'I know your quiet words Danny. I'm surprised that he isn't the one standing here with a complaint.'

'He might be soon.'

Barry grinned. 'If you had to deal with him I'm sure that he deserved it. Leave it to me. Now Mrs Jackson tell me what's been happening.'

By the time that Abby had finished her story Barry was looking serious.

'You've done the right thing in coming in Abby. This man needs restraining.'

'It was Danny's idea.' Again that crinkle eyed smile. It occurred to me that she was more than attractive. She was beautiful.

Barry continued taking down her details he asked her address.

'Sixty five King Street.' She replied

'King Street.' I echoed. 'I live at number one five two. We're almost neighbours.'

We left the police station and walked to where my car was parked. As we drove home we took things beyond the 'Pleased to mee'cha' stage. I discovered that Abby worked as a receptionist at a busy medical practice, whilst she learned that I was a personal protection agent which is just a piss elegant way of saying 'bodyguard'. I was currently between contracts having most recently provided protection for a visiting American actress.

When we arrived at Abby's home I killed the motor turned to her and said.

'Remember this. There are two things that you have to do if David comes to your door. First call me, here's my number.' I gave her my card. 'Next call the cops.'

'Why do I have to call you first?' She asked.

'Because I live just over there and I will get here much sooner than the police.'

Again that smile. 'I really do feel much safer with you just over there. Thankyou Danny thankyou for everything.'

She leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. It was only a light kiss yet it was so soft and so warm that I knew that it would linger on long after she had left.

She got out of the car before realizing that she'd left her bag on the floor. Turning she bent forward to retrieve it. I'm a breast man, there was no way I was not going to notice hers. The top two or three buttons of her shirt were undone allowing more than enough of them to be seen. They were what we guys call "Perfect" firm and full they packed her bra to the limit. As I looked up to her face she smiled. I felt like a naughty little boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

'Goodnight Abby.'

'Goodnight Danny'.

When I reached home the phone was ringing. I picked it up.

'Hi Danny; Abby here.'

'Have you forgotten something?' I answered through the remnants of a still warm lingering kiss.

'Only to invite you to my place for a meal; just my way of saying thankyou.'

'Sounds great.'

'Thursday Ok? I have a rostered day off.'

'Fine I'm looking forward to it.'

We goodnighted each other again and hung up. Today was Sunday. Thursday seemed a long way off.

Wednesday evening was closer and that is when Abby called me again. There was panic and terror in her voice.

'Danny! David is at the door.'

She needn't have told me that, I could hear hammering and yelling going on in the background,

'Ok Abby don't answer it; call the cops I'm on my way.'

It was quicker to leg it over to her place than to take the car. Again as I approached him I yelled

'Leave the lady alone.' this time adding 'arsehole' in the interest of truth and accuracy.

He turned to face me waving an iron bar about.

'I thought that you might be hanging around dickhead. This time I'm ready for you.'

Second law of street fighting.

"If you are going to bring an iron bar to a street fight use it; don't threaten with it."

This time I had to move fast before he realized that he was contravening the second law. Before he could react I was close enough to grasp both of his shoulders.

You either have to go to Liverpool to learn how to use the Liverpool kiss, or you need to be taught by an expert. I had my own pet expert. What is not widely known is that the Liverpool kiss is a two pronged attack as David Jackson was about to find out.

Tightening my grip on his shoulders I hammered my head forward whilst simultaneously bringing my right knee up. The top of my forehead slammed into the bridge of his nose, opening his face like a split melon at the same time as my knee crunched into his crotch. Nobody ever carried on fighting after the kiss was correctly applied. David was no exception; before he hit the deck both of his eyes had swollen shut his hands were clutching his crushed gonads and he was once again busily vomiting.

I rang the doorbell and spoke quietly.

'It's OK Abby it's Danny.'

She must have been standing right behind the door because she immediately opened it. She was wearing a silken housecoat that hugged her gorgeous figure.

'Oh Danny thank God you're here.'

She looked past me to where David was selfishly keeping his agony to himself. Again she burst into tears.

'I thought that he was going to break the door down and kill me. He was furious because I had put that restraining order on him.'

I turned her around and propelled her back into the house closing the door behind me.

'Where's your kitchen?'

Once there I got her to make us coffee. It's always a good idea to keep someone busy when they've been under stress.

'Have you phoned the cops?' I asked

She nodded. 'Yes as soon as I'd finished speaking with you.'

We had hardly started our coffee when the doorbell rang. Abby froze.

'Don't worry it won't be David he won't be up to ringing doorbells for some time.'

I opened the door to Sergeant Barry Hagan framed by two younger uniforms.

'Evening Danny.' he said politely. 'I can see that you haven't forgotten that Liverpool kiss technique that I taught you.'

'It's been handy more than once sarge this time that idiot wanted to wrap an iron bar around my ears.'

'Fair enough Danny. Not much in the way of police work left to do here just a bit of garbage collecting. Hey you two.' he addressed the younger cops 'Load that piece of broken nosed shit into the paddy wagon.'

'So what happens now sarge?' I asked.

'Oh I wouldn't be in lover boy's shoes for all the tea in China. Margaret Lane is the duty magistrate tomorrow and you know how she feels about wife beaters who break restraining orders. She'll be having what is left of his balls for her breakfast.'

He grinned, gave me a friendly punch that nearly broke my shoulder and disappeared into the night.

When I reported the gist of our conversation to Abby she again started crying but this time it was tears of relief that flowed down her lovely face. She controlled herself long enough to ask.

'Is it really over Danny?'

'Put it this way. David would have to be stark raving mad to come back here again. Not only would he have me to cope with but he would also definitely end up in prison.'

Her relief was palpable I could literally see the weight being lifted from her shoulders as she straightened and took a pace forward to wrap her arms around me.

If there is one thing that is sexier than a beautiful naked woman then it is a beautiful naked woman wrapped in silk. I couldn't see but could definitely feel every curve of her body including the two delightful nipples that pressed against my chest. I looked down to see those lovely nipples graze their way up my chest as she raised herself onto her toes so that our lips could meet. This time her kiss was more than soft and warm; it was long, lingering and full of promise. As we parted she asked.

'Are you staying for dinner?'

'I thought that dinner was planned for tomorrow night.'

'It is.'

I would like to report that we both had the most incredible earth shattering orgasms but I don't tell lies. There are times when I can be so sensitive that I even surprise myself. Something inside me just knew that Abby needed to feel safe and protected far more than she needed sex.

So despite the fact that I spent the night with a truly beautiful sexy woman in my arms nothing happened. Yet somehow it felt right and it felt good when she whispered, 'Thankyou Danny' just before she kissed me goodnight.

It was on the beach the following day that I learned how Abby kept her figure in shape. Swimmers like Abby do not wear bikinis. The great pity is that nobody has designed a two piece costume that could withstand the stresses and strains that she would put it through. I'm not a bad swimmer but definitely not in her league. The words Grace Beauty Strength and Power leapt to mind as I stood on Bondi beach watching her slice through the water without seeming to make any effort.

Whilst she was busy keeping her figure in shape by cutting laps parallel to the beach I splashed around body surfing. Why would I want to get in her way while she was trying to improve on perfection?

Just how perfect I was to discover soon enough. I was lying on the beach working on my sun-tan when she came out of the water.

Ever since man first started scrawling on cave walls he has been trying to capture the image of a beautiful woman walking out of the ocean. Sandro Botticelli tried it on canvas with the Birth of Venus. Blake Edwards tried it on the big screen with Bo Derek in 10. I'm here to tell you that nobody got it right.

Water streamed from her to pool in her footsteps as if it were loath to leave her. With shoulders held back and chin high there would have been an almost regal air about her posture except regal ain't so downright sexy. Her jet black hair hung over her right shoulder and cascaded down to her cleavage. Did I just say cleavage? What I really meant was cleeeeeaaavage. Her swimsuit which looked hot when it was dry was now wet and clinging to her in a manner that was downright erotic. The way that her cold erect nipples stood proud through the fabric confirmed what every man on the beach was thinking, that this lady did not have or need a built in bra. Her six pack of abdominals rippled when she moved while the swell of her hips swayed. But it was her incredible legs that drew most attention, long, and perfectly formed, the play of muscle, as she walked, went way beyond what music, poetry or art could express. Smooth bronzed thighs formed a vee and where they met a hint of a camel toe just in case there was any doubt that she was all woman.

I rose to my feet to meet her.

How To Make Danny McIver feel like King of the World. 101.

Just let Abby Jackson walk out of the ocean throw her arms around him and give him a long lingering sexy kiss.

This will also earn you a credit pass mark in. How to make the rest of the male population green with envy. 101.

Lunch at a quiet restaurant overlooking the beach consisted of a light seafood salad washed down with a Riesling that did more than compliment the food.

Our fingers had sneaked across the table to touch and caress each other whilst toes had mirrored their actions beneath the table; her skin, her touch, both soft and silken sending electrical impulses coursing through me.

We had reached the delightful stage of finding out things about each other. The things that matter the small intimate things that make life interesting: things to do with wants, needs, ambitions and challenges.

It almost came as a shock when Abby spoke of the kind of person she needed in her life, some-one she could depend on, strong enough to take care of her and yet be sensitive to her needs. A man who could make the hard decisions yet not be afraid to show a gentle side. A man she could depend upon and would depend on her. Abby was describing me.

Then when it came to my turn to speak of the kind of woman that I was seeking; an independent lady who needed some-one strong to care for her who would be sensitive to my needs yet unafraid to voice her own. A woman who would stand at my side when hard decisions needed to be taken, a lady who had experienced life and knew what she wanted out of it. I was describing Abby.

It was then that the lightning struck us. How can I describe this thunderbolt? It is all of the above and so very much more. It is as though all of the tiny gaps in your life have been filled. It is an understanding, no! Much more than that. An absolute certainty that the person before you is the right one for you. It is a blinding realisation that you belong together, that you are each incomplete without the other. It is all of this and an overwhelming physical need.

How we kept our hands off each other in that restaurant I will never know. I hope that I paid the bill because I have no recollection of doing so. Neither do I remember driving back to Abby's place. But I do know that we left a trail of clothing between the front door and the bedroom. All of which was achieved without a word being spoken since the moment that the lightning struck.

I told you awhile back that there is nothing sexier than a beautiful woman wrapped in silk. I lied. Because the most erotic sight of my life now stood naked before me; her breasts heaving while desire blazed in her eyes. I have no memory of when or where my erection started only a sudden awareness of it. I had never been so hard in my entire life; it was as though my cock was made of stainless steel and covered in a skin of silk. Abby's desire was equally obvious; her nipples stood proudly erect in the centre of their pink areoles. Her mons bore a small vee of soft dark hair pointing down to the junction of her legs where the neat slit of her sex glistened from the slick juices that came from within her.

For a moment that seemed like an hour but was little more than seconds we stood frozen. Then we reached out and touched and all of the force that the thunderbolt had infused in us leapt from one to the other. The fusing of minds and bodies that occurred is impossible to describe. We became one. Our lips met trying to draw even more from each other, our bodies melded; flesh joining flesh. Her pussy left a trail of juices down my leg as my cock lavished precum across her abdomen; each of us endowing a liquid testament of our needs. Unbelievably my prick grew even more rigid till it was almost painful; every ridge and vein distended to its utmost.