Temporary Girlfriend Ch 01

This story spans many of the Literotica categories as it unfolds -- Erotic Coupling, Lesbian, Incest, Group Sex, and of course Romance to name a few. Unlike some of the stories here, this one has a plot and perhaps a few twists and turns here and there for our characters. Your votes and comments are encouraged.

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I knew my morning coffee was going to get me into trouble!

I'd had the same thing every workday morning for two months: a medium light blended vanilla decaf latte. It cost $4.24 including tax. I knew I spent over eighty dollars a month on this indulgence; I had this addiction that needed feeding. I was in a sorry state and starting to think about a twelve-step program -- 'My name's Megan and I'm addicted to lattes'.

I knew someone else that had an addiction to some Starbucks concoction too. I didn't know his name until one morning in early May.

I'd just gotten my morning "fix" -- the irresistible latte - and started to push my way out of the crowded coffee shop salivating over the odor of the brew as it wafted to my nostrils. Then "he" appeared - my handsome mystery man -- on his way to get his morning concoction and squarely in front of me.

"Oh, hello," he said. We both stopped and faced each other in the narrow vestibule of the shop. We both smiled at each other. He had nice teeth.

I looked up into his steel gray eyes and at his ash blond locks. "Hello," I said, "Are you here for your morning injection too?"

"Of course," he said. "I see you almost every day. I'm Josh -- Josh Bannock."

"And I'm Megan," I jockeyed my coffee into my left hand with my large purse and put my right hand out to shake his hand. I thought how clever I'd been to remember not to give my last name to a stranger. "Nice to meet you officially after all these months of passing each other."

Impulsively he asked, "Will you wait for me? Do you have time or are you late for work?" Those steel gray eyes looked at me and I suddenly felt like a soft ice cream sandwich on a hot summer day. I got all warm and mushy inside.

"Yeah," I said slowly, "I'll be outside." We squeezed past each other and I went through the outer door onto the sidewalk.

I wondered why I was suddenly so willing to meet a strange man, albeit a good-looking one. I still suffered from the abrupt exit nine months earlier of the last man in my life and I certainly wasn't looking for another jolt of pain right now.

A hundred feet to my right there was an empty park bench. I angled towards it and deposited my large bag then sat so I could see the door to the coffee shop. I felt awkward sitting as the world whirled by me all on their way to some meaningful employment. I also thought I should do this more often.

I took my first luscious sip of my morning latte and sighed with what was the closest thing to an orgasm that I'd had in almost a year -- except for all the other lattes I'd had since I discovered them.

I quickly tried to assess how I looked. I puffed up my hair a little, not something I would normally do and hard to do with the pageboy style I wore. I also popped open my purse and pulled my compact out and did a little brush up to my makeup. I didn't meet a guy this good looking on a regular basis; he'd certainly turned my head.

A minute later I turned towards Starbucks and Josh appeared looking around for me. I waved wildly until he saw me. He strolled towards me and I got a chance to look at him more carefully: mid-thirties, tasseled loafers, no sox, snug jeans that showed off long athletic legs and made me wonder about what else they might hide, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up two turns, and aviator sunglasses pushed up on his head. Best of all though was his smile -- a perfect smile with teeth that made some orthodontist proud and his parents poor no doubt.

"I almost feel as though I know you," Josh said as he arrived at the bench. I gestured beside me and he sat. "I've seen you here almost every day for months. I even notice what you wear; it's become a contest for me to see if I can remember when you last wore the same thing. For instance, today's blazer -- that was last Wednesday. Right?" He'd gestured at my jacket as he talked.

I laughed, "Right, probably. I don't remember." I paused and looked at him as he savored the first sip from his Starbuck's cup. I watched his eyes roll up into his head as that magnificent first sip touched his palette. "What do you drink?"

"This week it's a cinnamon dusted latte light brew coffee. I change from time to time; must be daring and take risks." He looked at me and sniffed the air; "You're having a vanilla latte. I did that two weeks ago. Yummy." He paused and added, "I also like the hint of perfume you're wearing -- Chanel?"

I laughed and nodded at his acute sense of smell.

We sat and talked on the busy street as we savored our coffees. I shared that I ran the art department for a medium-size ad agency a block to the south. He'd heard of the company.

Josh talked about his work managing the investment portfolio for a charitable foundation a block to the north. I got the sense that he'd married his job. He did mention having grown up near Denver as well as still having family out there.

He mentioned he'd been an eagle scout growing up and was skilled at mountaineering and loved to camp out although he hadn't done anything with those hobbies since he'd gotten his MBA a few years earlier.

This guy appeared to be all work and no play. I guess I'd become that way too. I knew I was hiding in my work to escape the whole relationship and bar scene.

Why now did my head suddenly think that dating this relative stranger would be a good idea? I could hear the voices. My rational voice intervened and told me to stop having such dangerous ideas.

During our chat we somehow signaled that we were both 'unattached' and then kept talking about a hundred other things in that 'get to know you' conversation.

Somehow I shared that I'd grown up outside of Durham, New Hampshire, the daughter of a college professor at the state university there. We established that I was four years younger than he was.

Josh impressed me with his easy style and polite demeanor. He smiled often and I found myself drawn deeper and deeper into those beautiful eyes.

I even confess to flirting slightly. Maybe I was ready to venture forth into the world of dating again. All my friends seemed to have a foot planted squarely against my rear end pushing me to come back on the circuit. I'd turned down uncounted blind dates.

Our cups slowly emptied and I know I prolonged taking the last sip of my drink. As we talked and got to know each other, we sat and spun the cardboard protectors around our nearly empty cups, each of us slightly nervous and reticent before the other in this odd mating dance.

I didn't want to break the spell that seemed to have captured both of us. An aura of comfortable friendship that hinted at a potential for something more had descended upon us. I felt it and figured he did too.

Eventually, an hour after we sat down, Josh's cell phone beeped and vibrated quietly at his side. He jumped and after looking at the source of the call, routed the call to voicemail. "I should be going," he said reluctantly. "I can't say when I've enjoyed my coffee more. Will you meet me here about the same time tomorrow? I think the weather is supposed to be good."

There was that inviting smile again.

I nodded enthusiastically and agreed to our informal date. We rose, shook hands, simultaneously said, "Until tomorrow," and headed in our respective directions to work. I had a smile on my face for a change and I bet Josh did too.

I found it hard to concentrate at work because of Josh. He'd been so engaging and cordial. I'd left my last relationship with a low self-image, mostly created by my then live in boyfriend who had frequently told me how worthless I was. Even now, many months later, I struggled to overcome the psychological luggage from that four-year relationship.

At one point when I was in the women's room at work I stopped and looked at myself in the large mirror. Today was my black and red day. I had black shoes, black tights, a black skirt and a black blazer on with a blazing red scoop neck top. My dark brown hair only added to the message of invisibility I was trying to send.

I stood profile to the mirror. I still needed to lose twenty pounds. The blazer hid the fact that ten of those pounds were becoming a paunch and the other ten excess luggage in my butt. That said, my figure could be described as full with a more than adequate rack. I hadn't started to sag thus I still turned heads when I wore the right, snug fitting top or bent over wearing something loose. I could be a pretty good tease when I wanted to be.

Based on what others told me I was pretty. I had a 'girl next door' kind of face, smooth and oval without the angular cheekbones or jaws of many fashion models. Hazel eyes and bright white teeth accented the Mediterranean complexion I'd inherited from my father, a man of Spanish heritage.

I sighed and went back to work while rethinking how I could fit in more exercise and less food into my regime.

Tuesday morning I picked up my usual latte and as I left the store Josh arrived. I just said, "Bench" to him over the din in the store as we passed and gestured towards where we'd sat the day before. We gave each other big smiles. What a nice way to start the morning.

My God, this man was gorgeous. I'd had several Josh fantasies throughout the previous night including one resulting in a self-inflicted orgasm of very pleasant proportions. I shivered as I remembered the wave of pleasure. God bless battery-operated toys.

By sunrise, however, I'd decided I'd seen Josh through rose-colored glasses and that he couldn't be 'that' good. Yet, here he was again in his tall and handsome splendor. My heart did a little flippity-flop as I walked to the bench with my daily coffee.

I resolved to find out Josh's three hundred bad habits so I could get grounded again and lose this puppy-love crush I seemed develop overnight, heavily weighted by personality traits assigned by my own imagination.

A few minutes later he joined me on the same bench with his coffee de jour. He told me he often came by bus from his condo in Charlestown. I confessed to a studio on Beacon Hill and proudly told him I usually walked the short distance unless the weather was unbearable when I'd call a taxi. I noted that his neighborhood, adjacent to the Bunker Hill Monument, was considerably more upscale than my modest apartment even though I had a Beacon Hill address.

I asked him some more about his work as an investment manager at the foundation and that started a discussion about risk taking and being a risk taker. I confessed to not knowing where I stood on the risk taking scale since I'd grown up pretty sheltered, had a pretty bland college life, and then been in only two long-term relationships. On the other hand, while in those relationships some interesting and daring things had happened.

Josh asked about my last relationship, albeit carefully. I volunteered the disastrous nature of the relationship and how it had dragged me down for the last couple of years.

Predictably he asked how it had dragged me down.

I explained that after a few months of wooing me and getting me to move in with him that Roger had become a bastard. I'd become the slave and stayed way too long expecting that the situation would change. We'd talk and Roger would change for a few days or a week but slip back into his demanding and demeaning ways. He liked running me down. I lost the ability to resist as my self-esteem disappeared until finally one day I woke up from the bad dream and just walked out. I admitted my co-dependence in the situation. I probably went into too much detail but it was cathartic and Josh seemed to be actively listening as I dumped. Finally I ran out of steam.

Josh reached over and touched my arm gently, looked straight into my eyes and said, "Megan, I'm not Roger."

His statement surprised me on several different levels. For one it hinted that Josh wanted some kind of relationship. Based on what I'd been saying it also implied that he would be someone that would push me upward rather than pull me downward. It also suggested he wouldn't allow me to slip away in some negative co-dependent state.

I wondered if I was reading too much into his looks and his comments.

Josh suddenly said, "Megan, I know you've only known me for two of the past twenty-six hours but I have a question to ask you -- a proposition."

He looked encouragingly at me waiting for me to invite his question. My curiosity was piqued and so I nodded while displaying one of my genuine happy smiles. I figured he would ask for a date on the weekend.

He went on, "Would you spend the weekend with me -- in Aspen, Colorado?"

I know my mouth flopped open. I could feel the chilly morning air rushing in as I inhaled.

Josh babbled on, "It wouldn't cost you anything -- I'll pay for everything. You'd be doing me a huge favor. I'll pay for everything including whatever outfits you figure you'll need for the trip and the event I have to be at -- and you can keep those as your own. Oh, and I assure you I am of good moral character, have no designs on your body, and ... well, would you be willing to fly out there with me? I think it might be interesting for you if not a little bit of fun. I just really, really need a 'temporary girlfriend'."

Somehow my mind flitted to the love scene I'd envisioned just as my midnight orgasm washed over me. I tried to push that out of my head as not a relevant decision making factor. The scene reappeared anyway.

The brief discussion we'd had about risk taking and getting away from one's comfort zone in order to grow also flew through my brain - nothing wrong with my short-term memory.

I think I shut my mouth about then. I thought for a split second then blurted out, "Yes, I'd love to," before my rational self could intervene. I added, "Tell me more," a bit more quietly but audibly.

"Whew," he said. "There's a wedding out there and while I'm not "in" it, I'm sort of an important guest. A lot of my old friends will be there as well as my entire family."

"And you need a 'temporary girlfriend' -- a date?" I posited.

Josh replied tentatively, "Actually, I need more than a date -- if you're willing to rescue me from my hermit like existence. My brother, sisters, and best friends have all given me increasing grief for years about not having a girlfriend." He paused.

"Yesssss?" I said slowly, my brain actively engaged in assessing this new situation. Little red flags were waving as I wondered why he hadn't dated and described himself as a hermit.

He went on, "So I told a little lie when I was back there for a couple of days over Christmas."

"You told them you had a steady girlfriend," I said flatly.

Josh nodded.

"And I am the only hope you have to rescue your sorry ass and reputation from friends and family," I smiled widely as I tortured him.

"Yes," he said sheepishly. He looked down.

"And why are you in this situation?" I asked in a more serious tone, wondering if Josh was gay. Now I was turning the tables on him about the sorry state of our love lives. He became the confessor.

"Well," Josh said looking up and talking with greater animation, "I work too hard. I started the foundation I told you I work at about four years ago and I spend just about all of my time on it. I haven't really had much of a social life since I got out of grad school, just a few family events every now and then or an occasional friend stopping by Boston from out of town."

"You 'started' the foundation -- the charitable foundation?" I asked incredulously. "You said you worked at one yesterday but I didn't realize it was 'yours'!"

"Yeah," he said modestly. "The initial money that started it was part of a modest inheritance from my parents. They died in plane crash about ten years ago."

I stammered out, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Thank you and it's OK now," Josh said in a reverent tone. "It was a long time ago now - 1998. They were on their way to Europe on a Swissair flight that crashed off the coast of Canada. I'd just started grad school for an MBA when it happened."

"Oh," I said not knowing where to take the conversation.

I think Josh read my confusion as he studied my face. He took my hand in his and I willingly squeezed back to show I appreciated his candor and to show my sympathy.

"So anyway, about Colorado. The trip is to the wedding of one of my youngest sister," Josh said more energetically. "She's been engaged for the past two years to a nice bloke I've met twice -- the last two Christmases - and the wedding is Saturday afternoon in Aspen -- five days from today."

He paused and checked in with me to see if I was still on his wavelength. I was.

He went on, "We'll fly to Aspen from here -- Friday afternoon if you can do it - and, if you can spare an extra day on Monday we can see if there's spring skiing, otherwise I'll have you back here late Sunday night. Your duties would be to act like a serious girlfriend -- whatever that means. Are you good at acting?"

"I opt for the ski day," I said with a smile, "and I think I can play act my way through this. I'm not sure I like the idea of supporting your white lies to your family but I guess I will help rescue you."

Inside me a little voice was screaming, "No! No! No! Don't do it." I could also hear another little voice saying, "Finally! About time! Get out there, date, and be social! This guy's cute!" My two voices were fighting with each other -- not unusual.

Josh broke into a big grin. "Thank you so much. You are saving me from unbridled torture at the hands of people that say they love me."

My rational self started to kick in, "Now, what kind of 'duties' will I be expected to perform? And am I not supposed to know you better than that you hang out at the Boylston Street Starbucks at seven-thirty most mornings trolling for a 'temporary girlfriend'?"

Josh thought for a few seconds then said, "We have a few days before we would go. If you're free, we can keep meeting like this in the mornings and how about Thursday I take you out to dinner and I'll show you my condo -- you should have seen that before we go to Colorado? It's special and all my brothers and sisters have seen the place at one time or another during stopovers in Boston."

"I would be delighted," I replied with my Ipana toothpaste smile. "This gets more complicated but the whole idea excites me. I always did want to be in the theater. What's that quote? Something about 'all the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players'."

Josh said, "I've got to go but here's my business card. My home number's on the back. It also has my e-mail on it."

"Oh, let me give you one of mine too," I said. I dug frantically in my shoulder bag until I found my cardholder and produced a card. I wrote my home number on the back: in for a penny, in for a pound.

As I wrote I suddenly turned to Josh and asked, "You said the foundation was the reason you don't have a girlfriend. There's another reason, right?"

Josh studied my face as he accepted my business card, "Yes," he said slowly, "I guess I'm scared of relationships. I haven't been in a serious relationship since I was in grad school. To tell the truth, that one sort of hurt me a lot when it fell apart. She had more ambitions about the corporate world than I did at the time."

He went on, "Further, I guess you should know, I have a weird philosophy about relationships now and I'm guessing that no one in their right mind would probably want to get involved with me until I change somehow. I'll tell it to you one of these days. Lastly, I guess I'm scared of commitment; I've never found anyone that inspired my use of the word."