The Beast

The Beast

We are all born gifted in different ways. Some get great athletic ability while some can't walk a mile without tripping over their feet. Some have great beauty while others have bodies only a mother could love. I fit in the latter category.

My eyes are spaced too wide for my face, my hair is the color of dirty dishwater and about as bouncy as an over ripe tomato. I did get the tall gene and topped out at an impressive five feet, eleven inches but my weight not only matched it but roared ahead into the sunset. I stopped looking at the scales before I turned fifteen. On the plus side I received a plus sized intelligence to go along with the plus sized body. You might imagine that I also got boobs of a size related to my shape and bone structure but it seems that the Maker of All Things decided to stop making at that point. In school I was affectionately called, The Beast.

Dating was never an option although I did try to ask a couple of my sized guys out only to be rejected. Seems that even un-dateable guys have unrealistic standards. This left plenty of time for study and to think about the future. By the time I was in my early 20s I had started my first business and by 30 I had made my first million. At least I had that.

The Internet was a great set of curtains for me to hide behind. Who cares what an on-line business owner looks like. Who even needs to see them in a universe filled with avatars and AI generated images. Behind that curtain I could be anyone and I found a meager substitute for a social life in the virtual world. It filled a void but still left me wanting. I was a forty plus, plus sized virgin and destined to stay that way. I was even thinking of getting a cat; maybe a lot of cats. Then it happened.

I was driving along a back road on the way to my seaside vacation cottage when I saw what looked like a human leg sticking out of the ditch. I quickly pulled over and walked back to find a smashed up bicycle laying atop what looked to be a dead cyclist. He looked to be somewhere in his 50s and he was bleeding from a nasty cut on his forehead as well as other cuts and scrapes on his arms and legs. If he was bleeding, he was still alive. Heaving myself into the ditch I stooped down to check his pulse. At my touch he moved and began to moan.

"Stay still," I told him, "I'm going to call 911."

I could not get a signal standing in the ditch so I walked back towards my car. Still nothing.

"Don't move." I called back to him, "Help is coming."

I was lying but I needed him to stay still until I could really reach help. Before I could walk to another location I saw him on his hands and knees crawling out of the ditch. I turned and ran (or did what, for me, passes as running) back to him.

"You really need to stay still." I said. "You might have a broken neck or worse."

He just looked at me and said, "I think my bike is broken."

"I think your brain is broken," I snapped back, "and if you are not going to stay still, at least sit down so that I can stop some of the bleeding."

That must of made some sense because he quietly sat down on the roadside with his feet in the ditch while I went back to my car to get a first aid kit. Fortunately, his cuts and scrapes were not as bad as they first appeared and he did not appear to have any broken bones. However, he talked nonsense and and kept asking about his bike even after he was told that it was a total wreck. It was obvious that he had a concussion and needed medical help. I still did not have a cell signal and no one seemed to be interested in coming down this stretch of road. If he was going to get medical attention, it looked like I was going to have to take him. However, he refused to get into my car until I loaded his bike into the rear hatch.

As we rode to the hospital, I asked him what happened. All he could remember was that he was riding along and suddenly everything went dark until he felt me grab his wrist. He did not remember where he was coming from or where he was going. He did not know his own name or anything else. This made social chit-chat somewhat limited so we rode the rest of the way in silence. At the hospital they first took my information and then checked him in as a John Doe while I went out to the car to see if his bike held any clues.

His bike was set up for some sort of trip with saddle bags on the front and back but aside from some clothes, a few tools, a sleeping bag and a tent, there was nothing to tell anything other than he was some sort of bicycle traveler. He did not have a wallet or any other identification either on his person or in his possessions.

The police eventually showed up and asked me to take them back to where I found him. I stayed in my car as they looked around for any belongings and tried to piece together what had happened. They then came back and questioned me again while one of them gave my car a very careful examination. I guess I was briefly a suspect.

Eventually, I went back to the hospital where I was told he would be admitted and likely held for a few days. I left feeling good about having been a good Samaritan. That was that or so I thought.

Four days later I received a call from the hospital. It was about my John Doe. The hospital needed the bed and there was no medical reason for him to stay other than the amnesia which was best treated as an outpatient. He had a little memory coming back to him but still did not know who he was or where he was from. The only person he knew was me and if I was not willing to help him find somewhere to stay while working on rebuilding his memory he would need to go to a state facility some 200 miles away. They wondered if I would be interested in helping. What the hell, I thought, might be more company than cats.

Every day I drove John to his therapy sessions and every day he came back knowing a bit more about himself. Turned out his first name really was John and over time we learned that he was formerly a chef with his own restaurant in upstate New York. He was 52 years old, a widower with no children and currently bankrupt. Covid and a greedy landlord aided by some insurance lightning had killed his restaurant and pushed him into bankruptcy. He had to sell his home, his car and most of his belongings to fulfill the judgment, leaving him him with a bit of cash in the bank, no hope for immediate employment and a desire to see the country from two wheels while he sorted out his life. We became friends and I kept wondering when his eyesight would connect my image to his brain sending him over the yonder hill faster than the hit and run driver had sent him over his handlebars. I dreaded that day. For the first time since I lived with my parents, I had someone in my daily life and I loved it.

I was now away from my business for over a month and while I was able to take care of many things online, I knew that I would eventually have to go back to my year round home in the city and attend to things more or less full time; likely more. I knew that John would not want to go and frankly, his memory was fully restored. I planned to buy him a new bike and wish him well before heading in my own direction. I would really miss the wonderful meals he made for me as one way of repaying my kindness.

I was standing on my porch looking at the ocean one evening a few days before I planned to leave and I felt it was time to let John know that I was heading back to the city and that I wanted to buy him whatever sort of bike he wanted so that he could get on with his journey. I know nothing about bicycles and I planned to spend a day or two driving him to a few bike shops to buy whatever he needed. John sat on the steps as I rattled on about what fun it was having him around and why I wanted him to have something really top quality to replace the bike he lost. John was quiet throughout my long winded parting speech and said nothing when I finished. When I looked over at him, he had tears running down his face.

"John, tell me what's wrong." I asked, "If you don't want to get back on a bicycle after what happened, everyone will understand. I'll even lend you enough money to do something else. Lord knows I have enough of the stuff and little else to spend it on. I'll even pay for a place for you to stay while you think about it. It will be okay. Just tell me, please."

He was still quiet for a few seconds but finally he spoke. "You've been more kind and generous than I could have ever expected, Helen. I don't how this would have turned out for me if you had not taken me in. You don't owe me anything and I have no right to ask anything of you. I certainly can understand how someone as successful as you needs to get back to work. You don't need to buy me a bike or rent me a place. Now that I know who I am and have replace my bank cards, I'll make my own way. No, what you gave me Helen was something missing from my life and something with a value that I can never repay. I guess I was being foolish in dreaming I could."

He got up and came over to me. He looked up into my eyes and gave me a hug.

"I know I say it every day," he said, but thank you Helen. I want you to know that I really mean it. You are a beautiful person Helen, inside and out. The most kind, loving and beautiful person I have ever known."

His face was tilted up to mine and his eyes were full of tears. I felt something tell me that a moment had arrived and I needed to seize it. I bent my face down to his and taking his head in my hands, I kissed him fully and deeply on the mouth, my body guided by some primal instinct that I never knew I had or could have cause to use. His mouth melted into mine and together our bodies negotiated an agreement. My arms encircled him and lifted with a strength I did not know I had. Together we moved as one into the cottage and onto the sofa.

As I sat, John flowed down my body and onto his knees on the floor. His mouth found my legs and warm kisses began at my ankles working their way under my dress and up my calves. Oh my god! This was happening and over twenty years of longing took control of me. As John neared my thighs, I spread my legs wide and grabbed the back of his head pushing him into my wet panties. Rather than pull back, John pushed himself in as deep as the fabric would allow. We stayed locked together like this, my hands hold him in and his entire body aiding my efforts. Together, we simultaneously decided that the panties had to go and four hands worked with a fury to pull them down. When they reached my knees, John ducked under them as my legs circled his back. Lips touched my mound and I exploded and then exploded again as his tongue worked in and around my sex. Together we ground his face deeper and deeper into me with his tongue reaching and working a wonderful magic inside of me. My body shook and spasmed until I felt something let go, soaking my legs and John's face.

John's efforts slowed as if on command while my body relaxed in the glow of orgasmic glory. I gently stroked his head and then lifted my dress, pushing his head back slightly so that I could use it to wipe his face. John seemed ready to continue but my body wanted something else. I gently pulled John to his feet and unbuckled his pants. They fell to the floor. His underwear went next allowing his large, erect penis to stand in full glory. I lowered him to the floor while grabbing a throw pillow to slip behind his head.

I stood over him and spread my legs wide while lowering myself down to take him inside of me. I had heard that this was supposed to be painful the first time but what I felt was as far from pain as one could imagine. He slipped easily inside of me and I lowered my full weight onto his pelvis to get every inch. I could feel him thrust in response to my rocking back and forth until a sudden warmness splashed inside of me causing my body to shudder and my mind to fill with the most wonderful glow. We stayed like that for quite some time with me rocking back and forth as I felt him grow smaller inside of me. If my weight was uncomfortable on his slight frame, he must have ignored it as his hands held my hips and encouraged my movements. After a time I felt him grow again to fill me and we increased our rhythm. We moved more gently this time with his thrusts more directed and my motions lingering with his penis pressing on my clitoris. It took longer this time with increasing intensity until we both exploded at the same time; him inside of me and me all over him.

I lifted myself off of him and sat down on the floor. He moved his body around so that the back of his head rested in my lap. We lay like that for a long time without talking until John spoke. "If it is all the same to you Helen, I would like to go back to the city with you. After what just happened, I think we have discovered something. I'm not sure if you will get tired of me but I'll bet I can find some way to keep you entertained while being useful."

Well, I already had one use for him and my mind was already imagining so many more.