You Like Bad Girls

This is primarily a romance with not a lot of explicit sex. If you're looking for a good stroke story, this may not be it.

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"You like bad girls", she said with her lipstick askew. "I'm a bad girl."

I looked at the young woman standing in front of me. She appeared to be late teens or early twenties, with bleached blonde hair, too much makeup, not always well applied. She wore a skin tight top cut very low, no bra, a very short skirt, and very high heels. She had the perkiness of a teen, along with the awkwardness.

"Good girls go to heaven", I replied. "Bad girls go everywhere."

She looked like she was waiting for something, so I gestured for her to sit on the stool next to me. I got just a flash that told me she wasn't wearing panties, before she clenched her legs tightly together. She squirmed a bit trying to get comfortable, before smiling at me. She had a little lipstick on her teeth, besides the lipstick that managed to go somewhat beyond her lips.

"Buy a girl a drink?" She asked.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" I replied with a wry smile.

"I have an ID that says I am."

"Real, and yours?" I asked.

She squirmed in her seat again, then tugged on her top to show a little more of her b-cup cleavage.

I should introduce myself. I am Matt, middle aged straight male, graying a bit, but still with most of my hair. I'm in decent shape - trim at least with a little muscle from light weights a couple times a week along with extended workouts on an exercise bike to keep up aerobic fitness and keep my weight down. I was wearing khakis and a long sleeve shirt - business casual attire, having come from work.

I work as a number cruncher - real title financial analyst. Basically I work on financials for my employer, budgeting and comparing results to budget, then revising forecasts based on recent results. Hardly exciting, but it paid the bills comfortably. I'm divorced, for the past three years. She had a good job, so I got away with no alimony, but she got the house. She got remarried, to a high flier, and now has a child.

I haven't done much dating since my divorce. I never was exactly a great ladies man, even before I met my ex-wife. Now I just go out for the occasional drink and take in a few social events, just so no one, including me, thinks I'm some kind of hermit. Once in a while I do some light flirting, but haven't gone home with anyone since my ex-wife left.

At times, women flirted with me, but I had never had quite so blunt an approach as this young woman seemed to be making. I didn't really expect anything to come of it, but figured I might as well let it play itself out. No harm in that, as long as she was of age, not that I expected that to matter. She was starting to look just a little antsy, so I tried to make small talk.

"My name is Matt, what's yours?"

"My name is Tracy."

"Is that your real name, or just your nom de guerre?"

"My what?"

"The name you use when you're out having fun."

She squirmed a bit before replying. "My parents named me Donna, but that's so dull. Donna is a boring girl, Tracy is an exciting one."

"May I ask how old you really are/"

She squirmed again. "I'm nineteen, but I have an ID that says I'm twenty one."

"And what does a nineteen year old woman want with a fifty year old man?"

"You're still held together pretty well, and you look better than most of the sleazes around here."

"You've seen a lot of those sleazes?"

She turned red, and squirmed in her seat again. "I don't want anything to do with them, but they do hit up on me a lot."

"You do look like you want a certain type of attention from men."

"My parents would die if they knew I was out anywhere dressed like this."

"This isn't really the place to talk, and you shouldn't be drinking anyhow. Have you eaten dinner?"

She shook her head but looked a little uneasy.

"Let's get a bite to eat and talk. I promise not to attack you. I might not even attack you even if you want to be attacked."

She looked a little shocked. "Where... did you have in mind?"

"There's a little Italian place a few blocks down. We can walk unless you'd rather I drive you there."

"I trust you to drive."

I took the last swig of my beer, then stood and held out my hand to help her. She looked surprised and pleased as she hopped down, then tried to smooth her skirt to maintain some sense of modesty. She had a small purse, and I put my hand at the small of her back to guide her out the door of the tavern. As we got there, I stepped ahead and held the door open for her.

She smiled and I put my hand on her lower back again to lead her to my car. I have an Accord, about five years old, charcoal, with a six cylinder engine and a sunroof. Hardly exciting, but clean, practical, and functional. I opened the passenger door for her and held out a hand to help her sit. I got another brief flash of her pantiless crotch as she sat.

I sat down in the driver's seat and started the car. "We're going to Lorenzo's on Florida Avenue if you want to let anyone know."

"You seem like a decent guy."

"I think I am, but appearances can be deceiving, you know."

"For some reason, I trust you."

"So what are you doing, out at a tavern, dressed like that?"

"I don't think I wanted to go home with anyone, but I wanted to let loose and have some fun."

"Too many guys could get the wrong impression."

"And did."

We talked as I drove and at the restaurant. It seems Donna, or Tracy, was the only child of some very religious parents. Her parents had sent her to a strict church school until she got to her teens and started to act up. They pulled her out of school and home schooled her through a high school degree. She'd taken some equivalency tests to grant her a diploma.

Her parents wanted her to quickly marry a good church-going boy and settle into being a wife and mother. She wanted to go to community college, get a degree and a job and have some fun before settling down. Against her parent's wishes, she enrolled in college and got a job. She refused to let her parents set her up on dates with boys they thought were suitable.

She had gone on a few dates and found that the guys fell into two groups - those who only wanted sex, and those who wanted her to be a proper housewife and mother. She wasn't really ready for either. She fought with her parents until she moved out. Now her folks decided she was some sort of fallen woman or slut and wanted nothing to do with her.

She worked at a coffee shop and at work and school she dressed very dowdy and plain. Every once in a while though, she felt the urge to dress sexy and try to have some fun, which only seemed to attract more guys who only wanted sex. The impression I got was that she was still a virgin, but conflicted about losing her virginity.

She seemed to be a nice girl, and probably pretty, once you get rid of the ill-applied makeup. I was not certain I should be the one to take her virginity. Frankly, a woman less than half my age, who still isn't sure what she wants is not a good prospect. She wants fun, but I also got the feeling that she wanted some sort of commitment, and I wasn't there by any means.

We chatted and flirted and had a nice meal - my treat, of course. Probably the closest I'd come to a date since my ex-wife and I married. Since she couldn't legally drink, I just had soda. She implied that she'd like a drink, but knowing she was under drinking age, I wasn't going to do that. It began to get late and the conversation was starting to flag.

"I've enjoyed having dinner with you, Tracy. I might like doing that again, if you're amenable."

"I guess that means this is over?"

"It is getting late and I presumed you'd want to get home."

"I - I've been staying with my aunt. If I come home at this hour and dressed like this, she'll think the worst."

"What do you normally do?"

"On Friday nights, she's in church until 10 pm, so I always try to get back before that and change."

It was already close to eleven. "So what are the options?"

"I don't know if I'm ready for - "

"I don't think you are."

She looked kind of shocked at that. The once sexy and flirty girl was now looking more like the church girl she was raised to be.

"What do we do then, Matt?"

"I could let you sleep on my couch tonight. We should swing by a Walmart though and get you something cheap and modest to wear home tomorrow."

"I could call my aunt and tell her I'm spending the night at a girlfriend's house."

We got her a pair of sweat pants and a baggy sweatshirt, and she also got some wipes to clean off her makeup. We figured she could sleep in the sweats and wear them back tomorrow. She also picked up a bra and panties and some cheap sandals. We came back to my place and I showed her around. I had one bedroom and one bathroom, a kitchen and living area.

"I feel like I'm taking advantage of you, Matt."

"You're not the cheapest date I've ever had, but you're not the most expensive either."

"Maybe I should be more expensive, next time." She spoke in a flirty way.

"I'm sorry to have to put you on the sofa, but I'm a little too tall to sleep comfortably on it."

"That's okay. I appreciate having a safe place to crash."

"With a lot of guys, this wouldn't be that safe."

"But you aren't a lot of guys, are you?"

"I'd like to think not."

I began to think that I must be crazy. Here was a young woman who I only met a few hours ago. All I knew of her was what she told me. I'd never even so much as kissed her, and I was letting her spend the night on my couch. She could rob me, or kill me, or claim I tried to rape her. I began to think I must be totally insane to have invited her back here.

But she was here, and I'd invited her to sleep on my couch. I let her go into the bathroom to change and clean off her makeup, as I went in my bedroom to change into loose shorts and a tee shirt. I normally just slept in my jockey shorts, but I wasn't going to wander around in the flat dressed like that with her there.

She came out of the bathroom in the sweats, with the makeup gone, and her hair in a ponytail. Honestly, I think she looked about sixteen, not nineteen. I got really concerned. Then again, I had no intention of sleeping with her, so her age should not be a problem. Look, she was cute, but I have no desire to be jailed for statutory rape, or even being accused of it.

I got a spare blanket out of the closet and one of the pillows from my room for her. I figured she'd want to settle down and get some sleep. Instead, she seemed to want to watch a movie.

"There's a romantic movie on one station", she said as she changed the TV to that station. "Would you sit and watch it with me? Please."

I sat down on the sofa and she scooted right up alongside me. So now the little church girl was getting daring again. We watched the movie and she snuggled up to me, particularly as we got to some of the more romantic parts. During one part, she turned and looked me in the eyes.

"You could put your arm around me. I - I don't mind."

I put my arm around her and she snuggled very close through the end of the movie. By the time it ended, it was quite late and I was tired.

"I'm pretty tired. I think I'm going to bed now. The sofa should be comfortable, so I hope you can rest comfortably, Tracy."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. Could you do me a favor though?"

"Sure, what do you need?"

"A goodnight kiss. Nothing real passionate, just - "

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please."

I walked over to her, stopped and gave her a quick peck on the lips. She looked at me, then looked down.

"A little more than that. Don't get carried away, but more please."

I put my hands on her shoulders and drew close touching my lips to hers. I felt her open her lips as she kissed me back. She put her arms around me as we kissed for maybe thirty seconds or so. I kept it to lips only - no tongue and no straying of the hands, but I could feel a warmth in her and it spread through me as we kissed and I could feel my face and body getting very hot. She let go of me and pulled her face back from me, and I let go of her.

"Thank you, Matt."

"It was my pleasure."

She sat down on the sofa and I was almost in a daze as I turned and walked into my bedroom. I pulled off my tee shirt and shorts and climbed in bed. My head was still swimming, but I realized that if I had to go to the bathroom during the night, I should at least wear the shorts. I lay down in bed and all I could think about was that kiss with Tracy.

I finally fell into a fitful sleep. I woke to the sound of the bedroom door opening and Tracy coming across the room. There was a dim light and she saw me lift my head.

"I - I had a very bad dream. Please hold me and let me sleep beside you tonight."

"I don't think we should - "

"I don't want anything except you holding me. We don't need to do anything else."

She lifted the covers and slipped into bed and lay down with me spooning her. I'd been lying on my side anyhow. She reached behind her and found my hand and brought it around and placed in on her midsection, keeping her hand on mine. She was still in her sweats, though I was only in my jockey shorts. She wiggled slightly as she settled in.

I couldn't help but get hard. I had this cute young woman in bed with me. Her ass was right up against my groin and she had to feel my erection, even through my shorts and her sweats. She did a short low giggle, then sighed as my prick pressed up against her bottom though our respective clothes. Her breathing became shallow and regular as she dropped off to sleep.

It took me a lot longer to fall back asleep. I wasn't used to this at all. For the last ten years of our marriage, my wife and I barely touched each other in bed. We had not made love much for the last few years of marriage, and I hadn't been with anyone since the divorce. I did drop into a restless sleep, and Tracy was in the center of all my dreams.

...

I woke up the next morning still spooning Tracy. Now my hand was on one of her boobs, but her hand was still on mine. I don't remember moving my hand during the night, but there it was. I was immediately hard again, and I could feel my prick pressing up against her ass. I didn't even want to move. I was going to move my hand off her boob, but she was holding my hand tight.

She slowly began to stir and I could hear a contented sigh as she snuggled in closer to me. Her breathing picked up and she seemed to wake with a start. Her boob still felt soft wand warm as her hand continued to clutch my hand. I desperately wanted to stroke and caress that boob, but didn't dare. We lay there for a minute as her breathing got heavier and my hard-on pressed into her.

"I'm sorry, Tracy. I didn't mean - "

"That's okay. I invaded your apartment and your bed. I shouldn't really complain about you playing with my boobs."

She was still holding my hand tight. "I should remove my hand."

"It feels good there, but I guess you should move it."

With that, she lifted my hand off her boob and I pulled it free. She rolled over facing me in bed. For all that happened, she didn't seem in a great hurry to get out of my bed. I was hesitant to hop out of bed in my jockey shorts, and she was now between me and my regular shorts. It appeared as though her sweat shirt had ridden up so a little of her midriff was showing.

"I guess after that I should get another quick kiss, Matt."

"Quick like last night?"

She moved closer to me and our lips met. After spending last night in bed with this girl, I wanted nothing more than to madly fuck her, but I knew I shouldn't and didn't think she wanted me to. I responded to her kisses, but didn't want to push it too much. We kissed for a minute or more and I was about to reach out for her boobs again, when she pulled back and got out of bed.

"That was a very nice wake-up, but I guess I should get out of your hair."

"You are more than welcome to stay."

"If I do that, I think we'll end up some place that neither of us are ready for. Besides I have to get to work."

I got out of bed and slipped on my shorts, then followed her out of the bedroom. She went in the bathroom, so I went back and got into jeans and a tee shirt. I grabbed some old running shoes and came back into the living room as she emerged from the bathroom. She was still in the sweats with her hair in a ponytail, but looked a little closer to nineteen than to sixteen.

"I suppose you need to go home to change?"

"No, this is close enough to what I wear for work. But I would appreciate it if you could give me a ride. I don't know the bus routes or schedules for this area and I'd rather not be late."

I went to get my wallet and keys as she gathered up some things. When I came out, she was holding her short skirt and plunging top.

"I don't have anything good to carry these in. Do you mind if I leave them and pick them up later?"

"I don't mind. Maybe we can get together later."

"We'll see. Meantime, I need to get to work."

We went out to my car and I drove her to a coffee shop a few miles away from my place. It was pretty close to the tavern where I first met her. I gave her my phone number and she said she'd call me later about getting her clothes and possibly getting together. She had me stop about a block away from the coffee shop, so no one saw her ride there with me.

Month end was coming up, so I went to the office for a few hours to get a start on it. After working, I went home and spent a few hours on the computer catching up on what was happening in the world. In the afternoon, I got a text from Tracy, asking me to pick her up from work and to help her with something.

When I got there, she was standing outside. Her eyes were red and she was shaking. I wondered what in the hell was going on.

"Are you okay? What's the matter?"

"I called my aunt during a break. I told her that I'd spent the night at a girlfriend's place."

"She was unhappy about that?"

"She called me a lying slut, and told me I couldn't stay there any longer."

"What are you going to do?"

"She also said she threw all my stuff out on the front yard."

"That's terrible."

"I need you to drive me over there and help me get my stuff, if there's anything left."

We drove over to her aunt's house, with Tracy giving me directions. When we got there, we saw a small pile of clothes and things sitting out. We gave no thought at that point to making things neat. We were just trying to gather the items up and get them into my car. While we did that, a very austere middle aged woman came outside and watched us.

"I suppose this is the 'girlfriend' you spent the night with."

"I'm a friend who's trying to help her out."

"Help her out of her clothes, most probably."

"Believe whatever you want."

"Well, Donna, or whatever you call yourself when you're out whoring around, this man will use you then throw you away, once he's ruined you thoroughly."

"Well, you could always reconsider throwing her out."

"I won't have her use my house as a base for prostituting herself."

"So charming to meet you."

"And don't think I don't know how you dress when you go out."

By that time, we had her stuff, such as it was, in my car. We could try to sort it out later. Tracy was crying as we got back in the car and drove off, with the woman still standing there, with her arms crossed and scowling.

"So are you going back to your parent's place?"

"My aunt called them and told them what she thought happened, and they won't take me either."

"What are you going to do?"

"I can't afford a place by myself. I'm trying to find someone who'll rent me a room or share an apartment."

"Any luck so far?"

"Because I was home schooled for so long, I don't have school friends."