Sittish Itten

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The townhouse I was living in had a large kitchen window opening out onto a large grassy area, with a few trees for shade. There was another townhouse just across the grassy area that had been sold a couple of weeks earlier. I had seen a very pretty woman moving in the previous weekend, with a lot of help from several men and women. I didn't intrude at the time, as I thought that there was enough confusion going on already. I had planned on going over and introducing myself, but I hadn't seen anyone around since the moving in day.

This morning I was cleaning up the kitchen after a late breakfast, when I noticed that my new neighbor had parked her SUV in front and was attempting to move what appeared to be a rather heavy box up the stairs from the street. As she was having quite a time, and was resting it on the stairway banister every few steps, I went out to help her. I walked quickly over, introduced myself in a rather abrupt manner, and said, "Let me help with that."

I picked the box up out of her arms, and quickly discovered why she had been struggling with it. It probably weighed close to 100 pounds. I carried it up to her door, and asked her where she wanted it. She opened the door, and asked me to put it in her den, as it was full of books. I got it in there, and asked if there were any more. She blushed a bit, and said that there were another ten or so boxes about the same weight.

The stairs were narrow enough, and the boxes of a size that made it difficult for two people to carry the boxes up the stairs, so I simply carried them all myself. After getting all the boxes in and stacked in the den, she introduced herself as Meg, and asked if I would like a beer or a glass of wine. I accepted the wine, and we talked a bit about the neighborhood, the town and the sort of things that newly introduced people talk about when looking for a common ground.

I got up to leave, saying that I had to get back to work, took one step and pure agony shot up my leg. Every time I tried to flex my ankle, I got a shooting pain up the inside of my ankle from the bottom of my foot. I tried to walk, actually hobble, but it didn't get any better. Meg was clearly quite upset, and insisted on taking me to our local clinic for an examination. I finally agreed, as I couldn't see myself getting any better soon, so we went down to her car, with my arm over her shoulder as she acted as my injured leg.

It turned out that there is a large tendon that runs up from the bottom of the foot, along the inside of the ankle. Apparently I had pulled or strained it carrying the boxes up the stairs. The doctor's orders were to elevate my leg for at least the remainder of the day, and to stay off my foot as much as possible. She also gave me a prescription for a ten-day dose of an anti-inflammatory, and told me to make sure I took all of the pills.

Meg took me to the pharmacy, got my prescription filled, then got me home again. I hobbled into the living room, with her help as a crutch, and got myself set up on the couch with a couple of books, and a pillow to keep my foot elevated. Meg insisted that she would cook dinner and bring it over, "as it was the least she could do, considering that I had hurt myself carrying her boxes."

Meg left me to my own devices for the afternoon, arriving back about 6:30, with a bottle of wine, and several pans of food. She asked if she could use my stove and oven to heat things up, then was off into the kitchen where I could hear her rattling pots and pans as she got things going. After a few questions about where things were (including the wine opener), she brought out two glasses of wine, and we continued our conversation of the morning.

Although Meg didn't go into details at all, I did figure out that she had gotten out of a very bad relationship not too long before. Whether it was a bad marriage, or simply a bad relationship I didn't know at the time. In any event, she was certainly reluctant to be close to me, generally sitting completely across the room. When she did help me move around a bit, she didn't exactly pull away, but there was absolutely nothing sexual, or even I'm interested in you, in her body language. She was simply a tool, or it appeared that was how she was treating herself.

Dinner was wonderful, we finished the wine, and Meg quickly put the dishes in the dishwasher, packed up her pans, and asked if there was anything more she could do tonight. I assured her that I could get around, as I had the crutches I had finally remembered I had (and which she had dug out of my storage room). Meg left, and I hobbled around getting ready for bed and so on.

The next day she reappeared at my door about noon, asking how my foot was feeling. I assured her that it was vastly improved, and that I could actually get around fairly well without much pain at all.

Meg then informed me "In that case, dinner will be at my house tonight, at 7:00. Please come by at 6:30 for a drink before dinner."

I told her that she didn't need to do this, but she insisted, and I finally agreed to come.

Dinner that night was more or less a repeat of the previous night, a drink before dinner, a wonderfully cooked meal, and a bottle of wine to go with everything. We discovered that we both liked scotch and red wine. Did not like drunks or drugs. We loved to read, and had far more books than any otherwise sane person could imagine. We also discovered that we liked to talk with each other, and that we had many of the same interests.

A few days later, I had Meg over for dinner, and we continued our conversation, always finding something new and different to talk about. Over the next few weeks the dinner exchanges became somewhat of a fixture in our lives. We would often eat together two or three times a week. On occasion, we would use my hot tub, usually after dinner, but both of us were always in swimsuits, her suit always being relatively conservative, although she certainly looked good in it.

Meg traveled a bit for her job, going out of town for a day or two at a time. As I worked out of my home, I would pick up her mail, let the cleaning people in, and run the occasional errand for her. Despite the wonderful friendship we were developing, she was still as skittish as a kitten about any kind of body contact. As I had just gotten out of a rather acrimonious divorce not too long before, I didn't even try to make our relationship anything more than friendship. I simply had been too hurt, and was simply not ready for any kind of relationship other than just a friendship.

This continued for several months. We even got to the point that we would use her SUV to go shopping (my sports car didn't allow for many groceries), although we always had our own shopping lists, and paid for our own groceries.

Probably six or seven months later, it was my turn to go out of town on business. Meg took me to the airport, and agreed to pick me up when I came back, although I didn't know how long I was to be gone - somewhere around two weeks, but the time depended on the client.

I tried to call her several times while I was gone, just to give her an idea of when I might be coming back, but I kept missing her. She would return my calls, but I was also generally out, so it wasn't until the night before I was to return that I finally got her on the phone, and asked her to pick me up the next afternoon.

My flight got in about an hour after the scheduled time because of headwinds, but there was Meg, waiting for me as I straggled off the plane. It had been a very long flight; with the added hour simply compounding the stiffness and aches I had accumulated from being cooped up for so long.

When she saw me, her face lit up, and she ran over and gave me a big hug and a kiss on my cheek. This was a huge surprise for me, as she had previously shied away from any kind of contact like this in the past. We picked up my luggage, and walked out to her car, and it was as though we hadn't been apart for more than a day or so. Our talk simply picked up from where we had left off before I left. Meg told me that dinner was at her house tonight, and she had bought a special bottle of wine to celebrate my return home.

We got home, and went to our respective homes - Meg to cook, and me to unpack, start laundry, and clean up for dinner. Promptly at 7:00 I presented myself at Meg's door, and we had our before dinner drink. I did notice that her drink seemed to be a bit larger and a bit more colored than they usually were, but didn't really think anything of it.

We ate dinner, talking about what had gone on while I was gone. Meg told me she had taken me up on my offer to use my hot tub while I was gone. She then got a little red in the face, and told me that she had been using it without a swimsuit, because she really enjoyed the feel of the warm water swirling over her, and she hoped I didn't mind. I told her that of course I didn't, and she was to feel free to do that any time she wanted to.

We finished dinner, and Meg stood up, got the wine bottle, and poured the last of the wine into our glasses. She hesitated a moment, then leaned down and kissed me very softly on the lips and said, "I really missed you."

I didn't know quite what to say or do, so being a typical dumb male; I didn't do anything, other than kissing her back as gently as she had me.

"I missed you too."

I was still quite stiff and achy from the flight, and told Meg that I would like to go sit in the hot tub and soak the aches and pains out, and that she was welcome to join me if she felt like it. Meg told me to go ahead and get the tub ready, and she would be over in a few minutes. The hot tub is normally kept warm, so all I had to do was crank up the heat a bit, take the cover off and turn on the jets and lights. I got my swimsuit on, grabbed two glasses and a bottle of brandy, and headed for the hot tub, leaving the front door unlocked.

I could hear Meg open the front door, call that she was coming in, then walk down the hall to the bedroom and out the sliding door. She was wearing the same neck to ankle robe that she always did, which I had always wanted to tease her about. She was so very pretty; I could see no reason for her to hide like she did. I never have teased her, simply because she was so skittish that I thought it might well ruin our relationship.

I was pouring myself a bit of brandy, and asked Meg if she would like some also.

She replied, "Sure, a good sized one please." then "I hope you don't mind."

I was concentrating on pouring the brandy, and assumed that she was talking about the size of the drink. Of course I told her I didn't mind at all. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Meg taking off the robe, and then I almost choked - she simply didn't have a thing on underneath the robe. As best as I could tell, she was blushing a considerable amount, as her face and upper chest were considerably darker than they normally were. Meg stepped down into the hot tub, picked up her brandy glass, then moved over and sat on the opposite side of the tub from me. I suppose that if we stretched our legs out, our feet would have reached to the other person's knees, or maybe thighs, but that is the closest we could come.

I must have indicated my surprise a bit, as she said a bit defensively, "Well, you said I could any time I wanted to."

I hastily agreed and tried very hard not to stare at her breasts, which were very close to my dream breasts. The only lights were the lights in the hot tub, which were dissipated considerably due to the bubbles from the jets, and an indirect light from my bedroom bedside table. Meg looked, as best I could tell, a bit uncertain and hesitant, but she took up our dinner conversation almost immediately, so I simply sank down in the hot water and let it ease the aches from the long flight.

Meg suddenly sat up a bit straighter, knocked back the last of her brandy, and asked if she could have another. I started to reach for the bottle, but she stood up, and told me that she would pour it. She crossed over to my side of the tub to get the brandy, poured a very hefty shot, and drank about half of it at once.

She then sat down next to me, and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. This went on for a few minutes, and I was having difficulty in concentrating on the conversation.

Meg then reached over with her hand and gently rubbed it up and down my thigh. "Don't you think you have a few too many clothes on?" she asked.

I really didn't know what to say. I did not want to lose our friendship, but I also did not want to turn down what appeared to be a wonderful invitation.

I stuttered and stammered a bit, and Meg sat back and said; "Let me tell you a bit about myself."

She then just started in as though she were reading a story - in a monotone. What I had suspected wasn't even close to what she had gone through. Her ex-husband, who she had married very young, was really into bondage and pain. Meg had been brought up a good church-going girl, and had simply assumed that this was the norm for all marriages, as her wonderful husband could not simply be a pervert or sadistic.

He apparently could not achieve orgasm without the use of such implements as nipple clamps (which he also used on her clit), paddles, and so on. She had submitted to this for a period of several years, hoping that she would "finally see the light."

She had gone to her local church for help, but the minister (priest, pastor, I have never known which), simply told her that it was God's will that she submit to her husband in all his desires.

Sex, and anything associated with sex simply brought up very painful memories for her. She had found that she liked me, and she thought I was a very gentle person, and she wanted to see if sex could be anything but a painful ordeal that was simply to be endured.

I am not saying this very well; you would have had to be there, and listened to her pain to understand even a portion of what she was feeling. Meg then fell silent, and we simply sipped our brandy in silence. I had no idea what to say.

I leaned over and very gently kissed her lips, then told her that in my opinion, the greatest gift that a woman could give a man was to let him inside her. No pain, no spankings or whippings. Just gentle loving.

I stood up, took off my swim trunks and tossed them on the deck. I told Meg, "Let's see if I can show you what loving should be" and held out my hand as I climbed out of the tub.

She hesitated a moment, then gave me her hand, and I lifted her out of the tub. I picked up a towel, and begin to gently dry her off, running the fluffy towel over her body very gently, and approaching her breasts and pubic area with great caution.

After we were dried, I took her hand (and the brandy glasses) and led her into the bedroom where I turned down the bed and had her sit down. I gave her a brandy glass, and told her not to talk at all. I then proceeded to tell her how lovely I thought she was, how her breasts were simply wonderful, and that she was, in general, my idea of a very pretty woman. I also made sure to tell her how much I appreciated her mind as well as her body.

Meg finally seemed to relax enough that she finished her brandy, and then lay back on the bed. "Please make love to me, gently. Show me how love should be."

I lay down beside Meg, kissed her very gently, ran my hand down her check and neck, and asked her if she was sure this is what she wanted. She simply grabbed my hand and pulled it to down to her groin. Hoping I was doing right, I simply begin kissing her lips and neck, as well as nuzzling her ear. As we progressed, I let my hand wander over her breasts, down across her stomach and over her thighs. I was absolutely determined that the last thing that was going to be satisfied was my needs tonight. Meg needed a whole lot of very gentle loving.

I worked my way down from her neck, kissing her breasts, and very gently nibbling on her nipples. My fingertips gently trailed up and down her thighs until I allowed them to begin to brush the hair above her nether lips. I very slowly spread her lips, and inserted first one, then two fingers inside her, as my mouth worked it's way south, concentrating on her nipples first, then on across her stomach and navel, until I finally reached her mound.

I caressed her thighs with my tongue, drawing wet trails up her thighs into her most private areas. Finally, I begin sucking and nibbling on her clit, which was now standing up and revealing itself, however slightly, and licking down between her lips as my fingers titillated the very sensitive area between her lips and rectum.

I continued teasing, trying my very best to give her what she should have always had - a loving sexual relationship. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity her hips begin to move, and she begin to pant.

As I moved back up to pay attention to her breasts again, I noticed that her chest and breasts had become much redder, and her nipples had become much more erect. I worked my way back down, inserting my fingers into her, and probing slightly upward toward as I sucked on her clit. Suddenly, hips started forcing themselves toward me, and she begun gasping, and started moaning "Oh, God, Oh God", and then shuddered several times. "Come here now" she pleaded, several times, as I reversed myself.

I entered her, trying very hard not to simply impale her, and then slowly begin to make love to her. Within minutes, I spent myself, and we lay back together in a spoon position. Meg told me that she "had never known sex could be so pleasant", then grasped my hand and pulled it up to cover her breast.

We drifted slowly off to sleep, comfortable with each other.

I awoke fairly early the following morning. Meg was huddled on the side of the bed, still asleep. I just lay there for a few minutes rehashing what had happened the night before - the wine, the dinner, and then what I would have thought was something unthinkable for Meg to do - she offered herself to me, despite the quite apparent fears she had of sex and pain.

I got up quietly, and gently pulled the covers up over Meg a bit in case she was cold, before I got my robe on and went out to the kitchen. I deliberately left the door to the bedroom open so I could hear Meg if she called. I started a pot of coffee, and begin looking in the refrigerator to see what could be done about breakfast.

The coffee was nearly done, and I was sitting at the table trying to get clear in my own mind just where I wanted this relationship to go. I hadn't thought that I was ready for any kind of romantic involvement yet, but I certainly didn't want to lose the wonderful relationship that appeared to be developing without my really being aware of it. I was certainly comfortable with Meg, and I really liked her, but I wasn't sure where all this was headed. I was still mulling this over when I heard sounds from the bedroom indicating that Meg had gotten up. I started to go back to the bedroom, but Meg came in, with her all concealing robe on.

I started to hug her and give her a kiss good morning, but she initially shied away a bit, then laughed rather nervously, kissed me and said, "After last night, I really shouldn't be nervous around you." She then put her hand on my arm and asked anxiously "Was it alright, you're not upset with me?"

I didn't know what to say, but I knew I had to say something. I finally came out with something about the previous evening had been absolutely wonderful, and that I couldn't imagine why any man would be upset with her. I certainly wasn't. I realized as I told her these things that I was quite sure I wanted our relationship to go on in a romantic sense, but that I had better not push things too fast or I could very well scare her off entirely.