Hair Makes the Man

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Asian

The characters and events in this story are the inventions of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real individuals and events is purely coincidence.

* * * * *

We all have crosses to bear during our lives. If we’re lucky we learn along the way to deal with our crosses and get rid of them. This story is about how I was able to get rid of one of my crosses with the help of a woman who was beautiful both physically and as a person. The events of this story are as clear to me as if they happened yesterday.

My name is Rick Scofield. I’m a normal kind of guy with normal desires. My needs are simple and my luxuries few. It was not like this in my youth. Puberty for me occurred during the 1960’s also known as the Age of Aquarius and the age of the sexual revolution. They never knocked on my door once. I was what you’d call a late bloomer in large part due to a painful shyness around women. When I finally broke through my shyness I discovered I had another problem. If I found a young lovely interested in a relationship with me it didn’t last long. It wasn’t that I treated them badly or because I had bad breath or something like that. I was, and still am, hairy. The only parts of my body without hair are the palms of my hands, the soles of my feet and the cheeks of my fanny. As soon as a relationship got to the touchy-feely stage things would turn very chilly. When my lovely companions would see or feel the mat of fur covering my chest and stomach it was all over.

This situation had me very confused. I had read all the men’s magazines and how to books so that I wouldn’t be a total klutz. According to those “experts” there were women out there who adored a man with a hairy chest, there were even supposed to be a few driven so wild they would practically rape a guy with hair on his chest. I can assure you my virtue was never in danger.

This all changed the winter of my twenty-forth year. I found I had a love of cooking why I don’t know. When I graduated high school I tried to enlist to become a cook. The military said I had a Rheumatic heart and disqualified me. I worked full time at a job I hated and enrolled in a school of culinary arts at night to learn cooking and restaurant management. By the time I was twenty-four I was cooking full time and still going to school part-time. I had a dream of owning my own restaurant and wanted all the knowledge and experience I could get. The restaurant where I worked was a mom and pop place called J&M’s. A sweet couple Joe and Maria owned it. They had no kids of their own so I became their adopted son.

As my surrogate mother Maria felt it was her duty to find me a wife. She set me up with every available woman she could find. She started with the waitresses at the restaurant, then her bank teller, and daughters of friends. The result was always the same. I finally begged her to stop trying to set me up. A guy can only take so much rejection from the fair sex and I had more than my share.

Joe’s competition started offering entertainment along with food. Joe decided he had to do the same so as not to loose customers. He started offering light entertainment. Small jazz, blues and folk combos and piano players and the like. He even had a small dance floor installed. One day Joe came in all excited, he couldn’t wait to tell me about the act he had just hired. “Rick wait ’til you see the act I just hired. Maria and I just had a demonstration and we hired the girl right on the spot.” I had never seen Joe gush before.

“What kind of act is it Joe?”

“It’s a mind reading act that is unbelievable. And wait ’til you see the girl!”

“When does this lady Svengali start.”

“She starts Friday night and will fill in between the band’s sets.”

Friday night was business as usual. The early sitting orders had me hopping. Our new star must have come in the back and changed because I never saw her. I didn’t even know she was there until I heard Joe introduce her. The act was one where she talked to members of the audience for a few seconds then began to tell them things about themselves she should never have known. She was very good at it. Her voice was low, sultry and very sexy. If the rest of her matched the voice this was one sexy lady.

Most nights there was a lull between the first and second sitting and that night was no different. I used that time for my break. My assistants finished up getting ready for the next sitting while I had a soda and a smoke at the staff table. That night I joined Maria and a couple of waitresses at the table.

“What did you think of the new act,” Maria asked?

“I only caught bits and pieces from the kitchen. What I heard sounded pretty good.”

“What about the young lady?”

“I never got a chance to see her Maria. She has a sexy voice though.”

Just then I heard that voice behind me, “Well big guy, now’s your chance to see the rest.”

I began to stand and turn with my hand out then stopped dead in my tracks. Looking back at me through lavender eyes was the prettiest face I had ever seen outside a fashion or glamour magazine. She had shoulder length blond hair nicely styled and was covered from neck to toe in a escort bostancı flowing diaphanous gown. She was also tall, she looked me in the eye and I stand six feet.

Maria saved me by saying, “Rick I would like you to meet Glenda Miller. Glenda this is Rick Scofield our cook.”

She put a small but strong hand in mine and said, “Nice to meet you Rick.”

“My pleasure Ms Miller.”

“Oh, Glenda please Rick.”

The eyes the voice and the warm hand were sending shivers up and down my spine. She joined us at the table and we began to get aquatinted. Just then one of the kitchen staff came to tell me that orders were starting to come in. I excused myself to returned to the kitchen and never made it back to the staff table. When I looked at the clock it was 11 PM and we were cleaning up for the night. I was putting the finishing touches on the range when I heard that voice behind me. The shivers came back.

“Good night Rick. It was nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure was mine Glenda. Good night.”

She waved and was gone. Over the next several weeks I got to know Glenda better. She would make a point to stop by the kitchen between sets to talk. Sometimes I would catch her looking at my arms and hands as we talked. The heat of the kitchen forced me to wear a tee shirt, but I always wore my apron up so the thick chest hair wouldn’t show. I didn’t want to scare this woman away. Slowly I learned that she was about six years older than I was and divorced. She had a ten-year-old daughter and lived in an apartment. Despite getting to know her I still didn’t know what her figure looked like. She looked to be thin what the fashion folks called willowy but beyond that nothing. Glenda had slipped into my fantasies and I looked forward to the weekends again.

About a month later fate intervened. One night Glenda was late, so late that she missed her first show. This was totally unlike her and we were all a little worried. She finally showed up just in time for her second show, and apologized profusely to Joe and Maria for being late. Her car had broken down on the way to the restaurant and she’d had to get a cab. The car was left where it stopped because there was no time to call for a tow. As I was closing up the kitchen that night Joe appeared in the door.

“Rick, would you see that Glenda gets home and her car gets taken care of? I’d do it myself but Maria doesn’t feel good and wants to get home to bed.”

I could see Glenda behind him in her winter coat with her garment bag over her arm and an anxious look on her face. I said, “Sure, I’d be glad to. Give me a minute to change and I’ll be right with you.” She looked relieved.

In the changing room I traded my apron and tee shirt for the flannel work-shirt and jacket in my locker. When I came out I looked at Glenda, “Ready?”

“Let’s go,” she said.

When we got to my car Glenda ooed and ahed. The car was my one luxury then, and my pride and joy. I called her Baby. Baby was a bright red ’69 Mach One Mustang with 390 interceptor engine, Holley carbs, Hurst shifter, dual exhaust, positraction rear end, and tuck and roll red leather interior. She was as fast as she looked too.

Once inside with the heater going full blast Glenda told me where her car was. It took about twenty minutes to get there. I lifted the hood and found the problem after about five minutes. I got back in the car blowing on my hands.

“I have good news and bad news.”

“What’s the good news,” she asked?

“I can fix the problem.”

She looked hopeful and said, “What’s the bad news?”

“It won’t be tonight. It’s too cold outside and all my tools are at my place.”

“Damn. I need to be at the doctor’s office early tomorrow for Rachel’s appointment. Now what am I going to do.”

“Relax Glenda. I have an idea.”

I got on the CB radio and raised my buddy John. He ran a towing company and I’d worked for him a while back. John could give us a tow if we could wait about forty minutes he was on another job right then. I told him where the car was and said I’d meet him there.

I looked at Glenda. “How about a cup of coffee while we wait?”

“Sounds good to me,” pulling her coat higher.

There was a diner about a half-mile away so I headed there. Once inside the delightfully warm diner we found a booth and gave our order. I slipped off my jacket and put it on the bench next to me. Glenda removed her coat and placed it over the back of the booth then shook her mane of blond hair and it fell nicely to frame her face. She was wearing a turtleneck sweater that was so bulky I couldn’t tell how much of the figure I could see was sweater and how much was her. I still had no idea what her body looked like. The waitress brought our coffee and I told Glenda my plan.

“I’m going to have John tow your car to my place. You take my car tonight and get your daughter to the appointment in the morning. When you’re finished come to my house and we can trade back.”

Glenda started shaking her head. “I can’t take your car Rick. That’s too nice a ride and I would be afraid of getting in an accident or some jerk banging it in a parking lot.”

“Glenda, ümraniye escort I know you and I trust you to take care of Baby for me. Just be careful and you’ll be fine.

During our conversation I noticed that Glenda was having a hard time keeping eye contact with me. Then I noticed where her eyes were straying.

“Rick, would you do me a favor.”

“Sure, what can I do?”

“Would you please button the top buttons on your shirt. It’s driving me nuts.”

I looked down and saw the problem. Trying to get dressed fast at the restaurant I had missed the top two buttons on my shirt. This woman I liked and respected had seen my shame. I was devastated; the relationship that seemed to be warming would now come to a screeching halt. I couldn’t look her in the eye.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that Glenda.”

“What do you have to be sorry about? It’s my problem not yours. It’s not your fault that body hair on a man turns me on.”

“You mean you’re not totally disgusted with what you saw?”

“Why would I be Rick?”

I told her my sad story with all the details. When I finished she said, “You can take it from this gal that I think you’re a stud.” Now it was her turn to blush.

Just then I noticed the clock on the wall past her shoulder. I told Glenda we had to leave. She looked relieved that our conversation didn’t go any further. When we got back to the car John had just finished hooking it up to the wrecker. He asked me where I wanted it taken and I told him to my place. I asked him how much it would be. “For you buddy it’s on the house.” I thanked him and headed back to the car.

I went to Glenda’s side of the car instead of the driver’s side. When I opened the door and helped her out I said, “It’s time you got familiar with Baby if you’re going to be driving her.”

She looked a little nervous as I escorted her around the car to the driver’s side. When I was back in the passenger seat I thought of a question I should have asked before.

“Glenda, can you drive a stick shift?”

“Sure.”

“With a competition clutch?”

“What’s that.” OOPS.

“Step on the clutch Glenda.”

She did then had to grab the steering wheel and practically stand on the clutch to disengage it.

“This will take getting used to,” she said.

“Just take your time and you’ll be fine.”

It took her going through the gears a few times before she was comfortable, but then she did OK. I gave her directions to my house and soon we were pulling up in front. John had just unhooked her car in my driveway and waved as he pulled away.

“Rick, I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness. It’s very sweet of you.”

“Just get your girl to the doctor’s and I’ll see you after.”

Before I could open the door she leaned across the console and kissed me on the cheek. I stood on the curb in silence with my hand touching my cheek and the other one waving as Glenda pulled away.

The next morning I got an early start. I had Glenda’s car purring like a kitten in about an hour. Then I puttered around the house for a while. I had just fixed a sandwich and was sitting at the counter to eat it when I heard the familiar rumble of Baby coming in the driveway. By the time I got the front door open Glenda was walking up the footpath to the door. She handed the keys to me and I invited her in while I got hers.

I was fumbling in my jacket for her keys when I asked, “Would you like to stay for lunch?”

“I’d really like that Rick, but I have another appointment I need to get to. I like your place though. It doesn’t look like a typical guy’s place.”

“Thanks.”

There was a moment of awkward silence after I handed over her keys. Glenda finally said, “Rick, I still feel like I owe you something for your kindness. Would you like to come over for dinner Tuesday night?”

I started to protest but said, “Any meal I don’t have to cook myself is welcome. Sure, I’d love to.”

She smiled and her hand went behind my head. Then she leaned forward and gave me a warm gentle kiss. It wasn’t long enough to be truly passionate yet it conveyed passion.

“Good,” she said, “I’ll see you tonight, and on Tuesday then.”

She was gone before I could reply. The kiss lingered on my lips and had me all mixed up. What the kiss hinted at had me warm all over and thinking maybe this gorgeous woman was coming on to me. Then I thought of past experience and my mood changed again. I cautioned myself not to get my hopes up.

That night at the restaurant was very slow for a Saturday. I actually got to spend time at the staff table for a change. When I would sit down and Glenda was at the table if I didn’t sit next to her she would move next to me. The conversations at the table were lively and Glenda used her hands a lot to emphasize her points. One time she was making a point to me and rested her hand on my arm. When she realized the palm was resting on the mat of fur on my arm she pulled it away quickly and turned a pretty shade of pink. She recovered quickly and no one seemed to notice. I also noticed that her leg began making contact with mine under the table, and it kartal escort bayan became more frequent as the night wore on. By the end of the night she was holding her leg next to mine whenever we sat together. It was a good thing I had my apron to hide the almost continual hard-on I had that night.

Sunday and Monday seemed to drag by. It gave me too much time to think. I tried to keep myself busy, but my mind would wander back to Glenda and that kiss. By Tuesday morning I was so confused I didn’t know which way was up. Finally I decided to forget everything be myself that night and let things happen as they would. This gave me enough peace to survive until it was time to leave.

Pulling into the parking lot of Glenda’s apartment block I realized that this was no working class area. It wasn’t one of those exclusive places but was definitely upscale. I rang the door bell a minute or so after 7:00. The door opened and those lavender eyes met me. Glenda was radiant. Her hair was nicely done, make-up was light and accentuated her eyes and high cheekbones. She was wearing a floor length house gown that left her slim arms bare, and revealed her lovely neck. After a quick peck on the cheek Glenda stepped aside to let me in. Behind her was a miniature Glenda.

“Rick, I would like you to meet Rachel. Rachel honey, this is Mr. Scofield.”

I bent down with my hand out and she placed her tiny hand in mine. “Hello Rachel, it’s nice to meet you. You can call me Mr. Rick if you like.”

“Hi.” She said shyly.

Glenda looked relieved when I took of my jacket and revealed the turtleneck sweater underneath. She smiled a thank you.

“Sweetie, why don’t you take Mr. Rick into the living room while mommy finishes getting dinner ready.” That’s when the aromas of dinner hit me and I realized how hungry I was.

Rachel and I sat on the sofa and talked a while. I found out she was in the third grade and very intelligent. She was also very mature in some ways for a girl of only ten. Then she trounced me in hangman before dinner.

Dinner was great and the company was excellent. I had two attractive and entertaining hostesses and everyone seemed to have a good time. When the dishes were cleared from the table Rachel was ready to leave.

“Mom, can I go to Melissa’s now?”

It seemed that a sleepover had been arranged earlier and this was the big night. Glenda asked if I would walk Rachel to the little girl’s apartment. It was in another building of the complex. The night was cold and crisp and we could see our breath as we walked.

“Mr. Rick, do you love my mom?”

Talk about delicate questions. “Well, Rachel that hasn’t been decided yet. Why?”

“Well, the only people she has that really love her are me and my gram and grampa and she has been awfully sad. I just thought that if she had someone else to love her like we do she might be happier, you know?”

We had stopped and I stooped down so that I could look in her eyes. “Rachel, I promise that if I decide I love your mom you will be the first to know after her. OK?”

She showed me that she had inherited her mom’s smile too. “OK. But if you decide you do I think I’ll know before you tell me.” Like I said, very mature in some ways for a girl of ten.

I returned to the apartment and rang the bell again. My lovely hostess met me with another kiss. After hanging my coat she took me by the hand and led me to the sofa.

“Rick, we need to talk.”

We sat close to each other but not touching. Glenda turned slightly so she could see me as she talked and I did the same. I had noticed two glasses of wine on the coffee table and she reached for one of the glasses and took a sip, then cleared her throat took my hand in hers and began.

“There are some things you need to know about me before our relationship goes any farther. I come with more old baggage than a child and a failed marriage. A little over two and a half years ago I was in a car accident. I wasn’t badly hurt but my head took a savage blow and I ended up in a coma for almost a year. When I came out of the coma the life that I knew didn’t exist any more. The husband I thought loved me left me for a woman he’d been seeing while I was in the coma, and divorced me. I also found a big empty spot where some of my memory used to be. The last big blow was my body. Before the accident I weighed a hundred and thirty-five pounds and had a figure I was proud of. By the end of the coma I weighed eighty-five pounds and looked worse than one of those stick figure fashion models.”

She took another sip of wine before continuing.

“My family and friends have helped me regain the memory I lost. When my ex-husband filed for divorce my dad called his friend who just happens to be the best divorce lawyer in the state. The material things Rachel and I have are the result of the generous settlement he arranged. My body has been another matter. It has only been within the past eighteen months that it has become even a shadow of its former self. It’s been like going through puberty again. The doctors have told me that my body should return to its former fullness, but I look in the mirror and see what it is then remember what it used to be. Vanity has been making me miserable. I have felt so undesirable that I haven’t even felt worthy of the interest a few men have shown. That’s why I wear the clothes I do. I don’t want those that knew me before to see me as I am now.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın