There isn't much hope for a girl born on the wrong side of the river. Even less hope if she happens to be plain of looks and wide of hips. She either ends up at the local bar or cleaning houses on the right side of the river. That isn't the path this tale takes.
She was born in the cold dawn of a November day. Her mother prayed a prayer mothers have prayed since the first babe was born. "Let her grow up good. Let her grow up strong." It was a prayer that was granted.
She grew up good. Followed all the commandments and laws. Never even got a detention in school. She grew up strong. Working in the small family store she often lifted the heavy boxes her ailing grandfather couldn't.
She grew up strong of spirit too. Burying both her mother and beloved grandfather before she was ever really full grown. She made sure her little sister was set up with a well off husband, whose family adored her. Then made sure her baby brother was set off on a promisingly military career.
At the old young age of 23 she was good and strong, but lonely and unsure. As good and strong as she was she held an uncertainty. That uncertainty made her as fragile as glass. Seeing all she had seen on the wrong side of the river she still an unearthly innocence that was child like and rare.
What happens when you're full of contradictions? You become prey for the wolves or the prize for the hunter. To be prey or prize?
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She was slinging whiskey at a local dive bar when he walked in. He was class; right side of the river clearly, but he had a glint in his eye that said he spent time on the wrong side.
She looked up from the beer tap as he made his way. She tried not to notice him, but was like trying not to notice the sun had risen.
His voice was smooth and deep as he ordered, "Whiskey sour and a vodka chaser." She sat his order before him. He caught her wrist as she was turning and pulled her closer.
Her breath stopped and her heart skipped as he smiled, "What's your name?"
His voice was a velvet glove caressing her. "Grace." Her answer shy and soft.
He echoed back, "Grace." That was how the spell was cast. The chase was on. Grace would see him enter and before he was seated have his drink ready and waiting. This amused him. He smiled at her a twinkle in his eyes thanking her.
It took a month for her to build up the nerve to ask his name.
He studied her. She tried looking confident, but he could tell she was uncertain and nervous as she wiped the bar top.
"Perhaps one day my Grace I will tell you my name, but I like how sir sounds as it falls from your lovely lips."
She blushed and had the urge to say "sir" just to watch him watch her. "Oh." Was all she could muster.
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So, the chase went on. It was more than petty flirtation between the pair. Grace swore the heat she felt was like nothing she'd ever known. He would find small reasons to touch her.
Sometimes he would come in nightly. Then days would pass without him patronage the dive. She grew anxious when he didn't come in. She day dreamed about him coming to sweep her off her aching feet.
Sadly she sigh. She wasn't built for that Hollywood fantasy. She plumper than she should have been. Broad shoulders and wide hips. She curved, but didn't have a defined butt. She had a decent bust line and could have showed it off, but was too shy.
After all she was just a nobody. She heard it often enough from her ex boyfriend before he left her. She still day dreamed.
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It had been four months since he had been coming to see her. That's what told her once when she asked why he came in. "Too see you my Grace."
His tone teasing he asked, "So, tell me my sweet Grace is there one of these...men that catches your fancy?"
She shrugged and smiled, "Yes, but I doubt he'd fancy me."
"Inconceivable! Impossible!" He knocked on the bar top, "Point him out."
She giggled and decided to tell him. Shy, yet bold she leaned in motioning him too, "It's you sir."
Her smile was angelic. His smile was devilish. "Me?" His voice teased. She nodded filing a drink order. "Why sweet Grace I am beyond flattered." He gave her a short bow.
Coyly she asked him, "Sooo, is there a girl in here that catches your eye?" She felt her face flush as she hoped it was her.
"As it happens there is." He answered catching her wrist as she reached for an empty bottle. His fingers from enough to feel her pulse jump as he said, "my Grace."
He waited for her in the parking lot as the bar closed. She said good bye to her coworkers. Turning she saw him posed effortlessly on the hood of his car. "May I offer you a ride?"
"Thank you sir." She said walking toward him. He noted how she nibbled her bottom lip nervously as she slid in.
The ride was quite and oddly comfortable even though Grace's body hummed with nervous energy.
He walked her to the door. She turned to ask him in. He was do close. He leaned in trapping her between him and her unopened door.
She closed her eyes and waited. He smiled at with eyes closed silently asking. He rewarded her with a light kiss gentle and chase. "Good night Grace."
He brushed her cheek. "Good night sir." She said blushing.
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She did not see him for several nights at the little five hole in the wall. Her heart sank some, maybe he was just playing with her. Shaking her head she chuckled, "still exciting" she thought.
She sat at home writing in a notebook. It was 9 o'clock by the chime of old timey; the antique clock left to her by her grandfather. She started a bath and undressed. When down to just her panties there was a knock. She grabbed an old blue fuzzy robe as she went to answer the door.
He stood there in jeans and a T-shirt looking casual. His smile held the intensity that his body didn't show. "Hello my Grace."
She swallowed, "Hello sir."
Several moments passed before he asked, Am I disturbing you?"
Flustered she motioned him in, "No I was just getting ready to take a bath." She turned pink. Oh God why did she confess that!
He stepped in turning as she shut the door, "Please continue I can wait for you." His smile bordered predatory. He looped a finger into the robe's belt and pulled her closer.
"I suppose I could help." He pulled her even closer, "Would you like me to help you my Grace?" He lowered his head to whisper in her ear, "Ask me to help you with your bath."
She couldn't help herself. Her voice became breathy, "Please sir help me with my bath."
His hands opened her robe. He played with her nipples, "Ask me again my Grace." His tongue traced her ear.
"Please sir help your Grace with her bath." Her body trembled as he caught her chin in his slightly callused hand making her look at him.
