Navy Seal and Homeless Woman

Navy SEAL comes to the rescue of a homeless woman.

Author's Note:

This is an Erotic Coupling story. There is no rape, forced sex, or sexual abuse in this story.

All characters portrayed in this story are over 21-years-old. There are no minors under the age of 18-years-old in this story. There are no sexual references to anyone under the age of 21-years-old.

# # #

Continued from Chapter 4: Navy SEAL and Homeless Woman.

He grabbed her by the hand and walked in the diner ahead of her while pulling his reluctant, early morning, breakfast guest along.

"Hi Pete," he said with a wave as soon as he entered the diner. "My sister and I are going to grab the booth in back," he said pointing to the empty booth.

Pete waved his hand.

"Yeah, sure, Christopher," said Pete smiling at Christopher before he scowled when eyeing the woman that he was with, and with her disheveled appearance.

Yet, no doubt, thinking better of it, Pete didn't dare say a work after Christopher stopped a robbery attempt at the diner one early morning. With the diner open 24 hours, his usual routine after his late night, early morning walk was to hit the diner for coffee with apple pie and ice cream. As he approached the restaurant, always alert, Christopher heard shouts from the street before opening the door to the small diner. He looked in through the big picture window and saw two men with handguns.

Instead of in the kitchen cooking, Pete was out on the floor. He's never out on the floor. He's always positioned behind the open, high counter window in the kitchen cooking, while his waitress takes cares of the customers out front. These two nitwits were holding up the diner.

With just a telling look from Pete, Christopher knew that there was more than just coffee brewing. There was trouble, serious trouble. Only, with him accustomed to trouble, trouble was what Christopher was trained to handle. Not waiting for the men to reveal their weapons again and make their deadly move, as soon as Christopher entered the diner, he made the first strike with a sidekick to the knee of the man who stood closest to him.

As soon as he kicked him, the gun that he held behind his back hit the floor. With him expecting the man to lose control of his gun, Christopher reached down and recovered the weapon before he did. Then, coming up fast and hard, he pistol whipped the second man in the nuts with his friend's gun while taking his weapon away from him, too. Like taking candy away from a baby, just as it was in the alley, the altercation was over in seconds. Just it did in the alley, it took him longer to disable the weapons than to defeat the perpetrators.

Pete called the police and had the two arrested. Ever since then, whatever he ordered was on the house. Only tonight, wanting to give this homeless woman a belated Thanksgiving Day breakfast feast, and not wanting to take advantage of Pete's generosity, he intended to pay for their food. Instead of only ordering apple pie and ice cream, after that altercation in the alley, he was hungry for breakfast food, too.

# # #

They sat in the booth across from one another. Sally, the waitress, handed them menus while looking from Christopher to stare at Susan before looking back at Christopher with a questioning look on her face. Clearly, she recognized her as the homeless woman who came in the diner to buy coffee whenever she had the money.

"Coffee," asked the waitress looking from Susan to look at Christopher?

Christopher looked at Susan and she nodded.

"Two coffees," he said and the waitress left to retrieve her coffee pot.

Christopher didn't even have to open his menu. He knew the menu by heart.

"Order whatever you want. Whatever you don't finish, you can take with you to eat later," he said. "Don't worry about what it costs. It's on me," he said.

Susan busied herself staring down at the menu.

"Okay," said Susan already looking at the menu before she looked up to study Christopher. "Thank you, but there's such a big, breakfast selection that I can't decide what I want."

Christopher turned to Pete.

"We're both really hungry. Give us everything on the breakfast menu, Pete. I'm paying," said Christopher.

Pete busied himself in the kitchen whipping up eggs, toast, bagels, bacon, sausages, home fries, pancakes, and waffles.

"You got it, Christopher," said Pete with a big smile.

He looked at Susan.

"What's your name?"

She smiled.

"Susan. Susan Jill Parker."

# # #

Navy SEAL and Homeless Woman, Chapter 5:

Christopher and Susan begin a beautiful friendship over breakfast.

"Nice to meet you Susan Jill Parker. I'm Christopher. Christopher Ryan," he said offering her his big hand.

Seeing her up close, as if seeing her for the first time, he saw her bloodied nose, her split lip, and the discolored, puffy mouse under her eye. His hero, she took as much of a beating as she gave. Those bastards, for all that they did to her, if they were here now, he'd beat the shit out of them all over again. He was glad that she kicked one of the men when he was down. He was glad that he gave him a swift, hard kick, too. If he didn't have broken ribs, his ribs would certainly be bruised.

'How dare they hit a woman,' he thought with anger? 'How dare they sexually molest her by nearly stripping her naked? How dare they try to force her to blow them? How dare they try and rape her?'

The more he thought about it the angrier he became. With the odds stacked against her, he was just glad that he was there to help her and to save her from being raped or murdered. Bad enough that they beat her, there was no telling what those men would have done to her had he not been there to come to her rescue.

Definitely they would have forced her to blow them. They would have raped her. They may have even murdered her. Always just the tip of the iceberg, just another sad statistic, a homeless woman found dead in an alley, end of story, was no big deal. Most times, no one even claimed the body to identify it.

Buried in an unmarked grave, he couldn't imagine dying alone without family and friends mourning his death in the way that so many of his good buddies died on the battlefield. When he died, he wanted to die at home surrounded by all the people closest to him in his life. Only, having alienated everyone for the sake of serving in the Navy SEALS, other than his sister, he had no one to say good-bye, to watch him pass, and to wish him well on the other side.

With him seldom home, busy circumventing the globe, he no longer had any family and friends. His only family was his sister and her children, but he hasn't seen them in years. Embarrassed after running from her house because of her screaming baby, he hasn't even called her.

The last time he saw her was when he ran from her house screaming because of the noise her children made. In exchange for his Navy SEALs good buddies, he lost all contact with everyone else years ago. Now that he doesn't drink and party in the way that he used to do, he lost contact with not only his SEAL buddies, but also with his Marine, Green Beret, Delta Force, and Ranger buddies, too.

If he was penniless and homeless, he'd be much like her, alone on the city streets. Only, suspecting there was more to tell, he figured her for having more of a story than that. With everyone having a unique story to tell, he wondered what was her story? With someone as good looking, as sexy, and as shapely as she is, she definitely had more of a story to tell. Besides her good looks and hot body, there was real intelligence behind those eyes.

What he didn't know but he perceived, there was something in her that attracted him to her. Putting her beauty and body aside, be it her poise and/or her self-confidence, there was something about her that he liked. Having already seen her naked, he couldn't help from wondering what she'd be like in bed. With him not having had sex in a very long time, he imagined having a sexual relationship with her.

# # #

"Nice to meet you Christopher Ryan," she said returning his handshake with a smile before taking a big gulp of her hot, black coffee and downing the cup.

For a homeless woman, she had soft hands. He figured her for a sexy secretary or a bookkeeper in her other life. She looked around as if she was looking for someone or something before leaning forward to whisper to him.

"Do you think they'll allow me use the restroom?"

For someone so brave against three men, she was so timid in her request to use the restroom. He could only imagine the verbal abuse she must have been subjected to and taken when sneaking in a fast-food joint to use their restroom without having the money enough to buy anything. Putting up with three men beating her and trying to rape her was the least amount of shit she's had to put up with when being homeless.

No doubt, every day while alone, cold, hungry, and sleeping on the streets was a struggle that he couldn't imagine. Even with him sometime sleeping on the ground when in country, at least he had food to eat and water to drink. Yet, this was a woman alone and unprotected living out in the open without only cardboard to keep her warm.

"Sure. Of course, you can use the restroom. You're with me, a paying customer. C'mon, I'll show you where it is," he said standing and using that as his excuse to help her up when she grimaced from moving and stood with bruised ribs.

He pointed to the far end of the restaurant.

"It's right over there. You take your time and do whatever you need to do. I'll stay out here to give you privacy while making sure that no one else goes inside. Take your time to make yourself more presentable," he said.

It was then for the first time in the bright light of the diner that he saw how disheveled her appearance was. Looking as if she had worn them for days and, no doubt, slept in them too, her clothes were dirty, wrinkled, and stained. She looked as if she could use a bath, actually, a long soak in a bathtub would do her wonders.

# # #

In a country so rich and in a country that routinely helped the people of other less fortunate countries, he felt sorry for her and angry for her unfortunate situation. Feeling the need to help her, we should take care of our own citizens before reaching out to help the citizens of the world. With them being unappreciated and disrespectful, so many don't want our help.

Why we even bother helping them, he didn't know? Only, there was always something in it for us, usually oil or some other natural resources. Somehow and in some way, after we fed and clothe them, we raped them of whatever things they had of value that we could use.

He never understood why we give our money to Pakistan so that they can shelter the Taliban. It angered him that we give our money to Egypt to watch them burn our flag in their streets. We should pull the plug on the gravy train to watch them come crawling and begging the United States of America for help.

He was angered that so many people were unemployed or underemployed. He was angered that so many people working two and three jobs to make ends meet, and who didn't even have health insurance. With them busting the unions, he was angered that we sent all of our manufacturing jobs overseas to Mexico, Japan, Taiwan, India, Brazil, Indonesia, Sri Lanka, and now China. It's nonsense that we support China by employing their people with all of our jobs and then have to borrow money from them. When did that happen, and why is it still continuing?

In a country so rich and so productive, everyone who's able to work and who wants to work should have a job, a good paying job, a job that allowed them to feed, clothe, and educate their children. Everyone should have free health insurance and, for those who want to attend, our citizens should have a tuition free, college education without having to take out financially crushing loans. No one should wander the street with no place to sleep. No citizen of the United States, people he risked his life to protect, should go hungry.

In the way that the CIA routinely replaced one dictator for another dictator, it's time we cleared those old, white men out of Washington and replaced them with those who are willing to serve the public and not themselves. Instead of a Republican Party or a Democratic Party, just as our forefathers envisioned, we should have one party, the American Party. Not a party for the rich or a party for the poor but a party for every citizen of the United States of America.

# # #

He watched her walk down the hall and disappear in the ladies room. Nearly as tall as he was, she was tall and he didn't realize how tall she was, maybe 5'9" or 5'10" tall, until she stood next to him. Wondering if she was wearing heels, she wasn't. She was wearing dirty, white tennis sneakers. That's when it hit him. With most women having dozens of pairs of shoes, what woman doesn't have a proper pair of shoes to wear?

Hard not to notice and to be sexually attracted to, he wondered if she didn't have the body of a porn star, if he'd still have the need to help her and if he'd be sitting here with her now in the diner ready to feed her. Truth be told, obviously, he was just as alone and lonely as she was. Yet, was sex getting in the way of his compassion and commonsense? Was he more interested in fucking her than in helping her? Toying with his emotions, had seeing her nearly naked turned his head completely around.

Living in a dirty, back alley, she was a homeless woman for God sakes. Was he that desperate for a woman that he's now searching the back alleys of the city for homeless women to date instead of hooking up with someone on an online dating site or in a bar? Maybe, with all the shit that he's had to deal with in his life, he felt as disconnected as she was. Maybe, he needed to hunker down with a real woman, a homeless woman, before climbing up to mingle with the rest of society.

He's been too wrapped up in himself and in the military while fighting wars around the world. He never had the time or the need for a woman in his life as he had the time for and wanted to make the time for someone now that he's retired from killing the enemy. Nonetheless, the sudden sexual attraction that he felt for her, he'd like to take her home with him. That is, if she was agreeable to that but he didn't know how to ask her without coming across as a player. He didn't know how she'd react to his invitation for her to bunk with him.

Not very suave with the ladies, he didn't even know how to go about asking her without insulting her or offending her. Just because she was homeless doesn't mean she wasn't proud. Everyone has pride whether false or real. Yet, if she was to accept his offer of shelter, once there, once alone with her in his house, then what? If she had accepted the invitation to bunk with her, with him horny and sexually frustrated after seeing her nearly naked, would he try and sexually seduce her. No better than the three men who sexually molested her, would he sexually molest her, too?

# # #

He's never been in a committed relationship. If nothing else, she could shower and he'd take her to buy new clothes tomorrow. Maybe, he could take her someplace to get her hair, her makeup, and nails done. His very own version of Julia Roberts as Pretty Woman, he was curious what she looked like beneath all that dirt and bad attitude.

Then what? Once he feeds her, shelters her, bathes her, clothes her, and gets her hair, her makeup, and her nails done, what happens then? Not being much of a deep thinker when it comes to women, playing it by ear, and with unable to answer his own question, he didn't know. Never in a serious sexual relationship, the only women that he knew were Simone, Lucy, and Carmen, prostitutes.

Yet, careful where he thread, maybe she'd think that after saving her from those three men and buying her a hot meal that she'd be obligated to accept his invitation to bunk with him. Maybe, she'd think that he wanted her for sex and, maybe, he did want sex. Other than having fun with some local prostitutes, he hadn't had sex in a while, since before he left the service and visited Bangkok for some much-needed rest, recreation, and relaxation. He wasn't as interested in having sex with her as much as he was in helping her, or so he convinced himself to believe.

Yeah, sure if sex was on the table and if sex was offered, he wouldn't refuse it but more than that, he was lonely. He was more looking for companionship and conversation than in fucking her and in her sucking him. It's sadly funny how the pain of isolation and loneliness can sometimes hurt more than the searing and piercing bite of a bullet.

Having survived three bullet wounds and after receiving 5 Purple Hearts for injuries received in combat, he was a coward when it came to love. He was tongue tied when it came to women. He feared starting a relationship that he wasn't capable of finishing. As if he had been shot in the heart, he was suddenly sad that he never married and had children.

# # #

It was obvious to him now that he was no longer a SEAL, how empty his life was. A life that was the envy of his friends, especially when he showed up wearing his uniform with all of his stripes and medals, he was the one who was envious of them. Having gotten all that he wanted then, they had all that he wished he had now.

"I'm buying," said Christopher walking over to Pete standing at the order counter while waiting for Susan to emerge from the restroom. "Whatever she doesn't eat, wrap it up and she'll take it with her," he said to Pete before turning his attention to the waitress. "And the next time she comes in for coffee, let her drink it here out of the cold, and don't embarrass her by saying that she smells."

Sally, the waitress, gave him an embarrassed look.

"Okay," said Sally. "But that wasn't me who said that she smells, Christopher. That was Molly, the new girl. I'd never embarrass anyone in public."

Sally touched his arm.

"Especially now aware that she's your sister and being that it's been so cold outside, I would have allowed her to drink her coffee inside, Christopher," she said with a kind smile. "She's welcome here anytime, even just to use the ladies room, and I'll make sure of it."

Christopher shook her hand.

"Thank you," he said to her.

She paused as if rethinking what she was about to say.

"Having been there myself, before I got this job, I know how it is on the street," said Sally. "I'll never forget how cold I was, the coldest I've ever been, while standing around with no place to go and counting down the minutes when waiting for the shelter to open. Then, standing in line with so many pitiful people, the thing that stuck with me was the indignity of it all and how I wasn't even able to support one person, myself."

Christopher nodded his head.

"Actually, she's not my sister. She's my friend," he said again, this time with a smile. "Thank you for your kindness," said Christopher handing her twenty dollars.

# # #

As if she had taken a bath, Susan emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later looking like someone else. Instead of dragging her tired ass behind her and instead of having the angry look of Tugboat Annie on her face, she strode from the bathroom as if she owned the place. Her hands and face were spotlessly clean and her hair was pulled back away from her face enough for Christopher to notice that she had big, blue eyes that he couldn't stop staring into them.

She had changed her blouse and her pants. She was wearing a bra. Yet, the biggest change in her was in her attitude. With her big, blue eyes beaming, she was smiling instead of frowning.

"Wow," he said. "If I didn't know we were the only two people here, I'd think that you were someone else," he said with a laugh. "I hardly recognized you. You clean up really good. Actually, you're very good looking and with the right clothes, your hair done, and some makeup, you'd be stunning," he said while Roy Orbison's Pretty Woman played in his head.