The rising summer sun caught Victor Haig in its yellowish glow as he walked along the riverfront.
Vic was in his late thirties – a man with nothing. Correction, he had a near clapped out car and residing in his rented room were his alarm radio, TV set and other assorted possession that packed into a suitcase and six cartons.
Two wives in quick succession – each with a child not fathered by him – had engaged good lawyers to systematically stripped Vic financially. So for the third time he moved on to once again start from scratch.
This time was different: this time Vic had a plan. He was looking for a woman who'd been through the mill herself.
Observers might dub Vic a 'loser'. Well, he certainly acted like one. Vic's problem had been he'd twice shared part of his life with two women who didn't really love him and were too smart for him. So the plan was to find a discarded woman who was no smarter than him. From this it appeared the unemployed computer technician was a capable of being a problem solver in his personal life.
Okay, let's go find this woman, Vic decided. First he tried the bars but found all the ones who responded had a husband or boy-friend in the bar who stood looking menacingly at Vic; those unattached he approached were prostitutes. Not wanting a crushed skull or an STD he decided to look elsewhere.
The 'personal' columns in newspapers and internet dating sites were as unfruitful as the bars – the women were either married and keen to have a hot night with someone new or appeared promising but specified someone tall, dark, handsome and wealthy which left him out of contention on every count. So the medium height, dirty blonde, crooked nosed guy on a social relief benefit stood at the end of the wharf looking at the rush of the outgoing tidal stream contemplating shortening his future when a in his head a hooter sounded: Patrol the riverfront at dawn!
Yes, that was it! His brain had figured that as everyone fucked at dawn – they did, didn't they? – then if he were a female discard what would he do in despair at dawn when there was no-one to plug into any more? Of course, go down to the riverfront to watch the sun rise and weep.
Two mornings in a row Vic found a distressed woman but unfortunately both were still attached although dissatisfied with their man. Both opened up to him verbally and seemed to be taking a bit of interest in him sexually, as far as he could determine. But after an earful of moans because of both women's emotional overload, Vic decided he'd have to sharpen up his selection process and not be too much in a hurry to grab some pussy. So here he was, on day three working to The Plan.
Vic looked along the stretch of esplanade. He could see three hunched females on the first six or seven seats. Time for action. In each case he nodded an early morning greeting but was ignored. The first woman was worth a miss – she looked about sixty. The second with big tits was a real possibility until Vic spotted a lap dog nestled in under those boulders. He moved on because he disliked dogs who liked women. He immediately veered away from the third target after suspecting it was a male in drag.
Well, Rome wasn't built in a day, Vic thought philosophically; try again tomorrow morning, buddy. He walked on to the wharf to watch the seagulls feeding. He sat on a seat to rest. A little later, sizing up what was about to happen he said, "Ma'am, I wouldn't advise you to jump at this moment. The tide is full so you'll only stay floating where you jump in rather than being washed out to sea with a whoosh. Wait another hour or two."
At first the woman with the long dark hair didn't answer, didn't even look back at him. Then she stepped back, turned and said, "I wasn't contemplating jumping." After a pause she added, "Will you talk to me?"
What a ridiculous question, he thought. Why waste his time with someone who hadn't yet hit the upswing from being a loser. Then he saw the tits – real beauties.
"It would be my pleasure. Come, we'll sit on that seat over there. Want me to fetch you a coffee – there's an all night bar just opposite?"
"Thank you – a touch of milk, no sugar."
Vic returned with two coffees and two chicken bread rolls, unsure whether she'd be there. Most likely she'd taken off; but no, she was there staring down to the river to the sea.
She said, slightly thickly, "If the tide had been streaming out, anyone accidentally falling off the wharf would be out there, probably crying for help."
"Nah, the sharks wait for food at the end of the sandbar. They line-up like people at a diner."
"Thanks," she said, taking the coffee. "Oh God, how awful. Sharks!"
"They're okay – just a little enthusiastic about eating anything that looks like food. Does it matter?"
"Yes it does. What if I were, um, floating down with the tide for a swim. Think of this lovely body of mine being ripped open by sharks. Ugh!"
Vic's answer was an uncontrolled reflex. "You have a lovely body?"
Instead of answering she stood, faced him and opened the light wrap. "Tell me if I'm exaggerating."
The pink lacy bra contained beautifully two exquisite orbs, two darkish nipples peeping over the top. They were among the five top brace of breasts Vic had ever come close to laying hands on. The slightly rounded firm looking belly looked ready to be licked and kissed. His eyes slid over the matching panties that outlining a plump camel-toe and then his gaze met rosy flesh bulging slight over the top of thigh-high stockings; he almost ejaculated on the spot.
"Very nice, I agree, cover it up quickly," he admonished hoarsely.
"Well, if you insist," she said a little haughtily. "I am used to being admired."
Vic recklessly decided to confess. "Sorry, it's almost a month since I've come this close to a nubile woman."
"Oh, you poor darling," she cried, a motherly tone in her voice, pulling aside the bottom of her panties. "Oh look; I'm, dripping."
"Hey you, over there; beat it. The notices say no loitering."
Vic opened his eyes to catch the malevolent red-rimmed eyes of the female uniformed Port Authority security guard. He turned to shake awake his sexy companion, but she wasn't there. Nor were their coffee paper cups and the two bags that had contained the rolls.
"Move it buster," she said, swinging her baton, her whistle in her mouth.
"Okay, I'm going," Vic said and walked off the wharf. There was no sign of the thirty-something woman and there was no twenty-four hour bar opposite either. The sign stated "Opening hours 10am – 10 pm."
Damn sleep, cussed Vic. Dreams like that I can do without. Well, I'll try again in the morning – but no falling asleep on patrol, you mutt, he admonished. That's no way to find a woman who needs you.
Strolling along the tree-lined promenade, hearing the town clock chime 8:00, Vic saw up ahead two youths struggling with a woman who was screaming, "Leave me alone your scum."
Vic raced up, seized one of the guys around the hips, upturned him and dumped him into and empty refuse bin, where he stuck by the shoulders, his legs waving comically in the air while he yelled for help. His mate let go of the woman and crouched waiting to repel Vic's attack.
Vic threw a very weak left; the guy grinned and unleashed a powerful swing from below his knee to Vic's jaw which Vic ducked as he kneed the guy between his legs. That guy fell to the ground, doubled up and screaming.
"Come," Vic said urgently but lowering his voice to avoid frightening the woman. "Take my hand and let's run."
They ran, not talking, and at the first opportunity went up the steps from the promenade and on to Riverside Highway. There was a diner opposite them.
"Breakfast?"
She looked hesitant.
"We'll be out of sight in there should those two hoons come looking for us."
She nodded, pale faced and wide-eyed. Beautiful blue eyes actually. She attempted to free her hand but was unsuccessful. Vic led her across the now busy highway. This time he knew he wasn't dreaming because he felt the warmth of her hand.
As they climbed the steps he asked, "Why were those hoons molesting me? Do you think they mistook me for a hooker?"
"How could they possible think that?"
She eyed him gratefully. "I'm Nina."
"Hi Nancy, I'm Vic – Victor Haig."
"My full name is Nina Alice Raymond. Thank you so much for saving me. I'm nothing but trouble. My mother died three weeks ago and my father has gone to pieces. I have been unable to console him. He arrived home last drunk last night with two women and threw me out of the house, warming me never to return."
"He'll think differently today after a good sleep and a big breakfast."
"I don't believe so. He'd doomed and has decided to die. He's drinking heavily and has been shouting that at me for days on end; it's been terrible."
"Okay, enough of that. You need coffee and something good for the soul. Have whatever you want on me."
"Oh, I really can't accept that. Besides, I owe you for saving me."
"You pay for dinner tonight."
"Then I'll be seeing you again?"
"Yes, you come and stay with me in my room."
