10 comments/ 21763 views/ 5 favorites A Misanthrope and Artichokes By: PayDay Author's Note: This is my story, I wrote it, and stealing is lame. If you don't like it, don't read it. This story is now perfectly self-edited (bring it). All of my characters, in all of my stories, are over eighteen, or older, any time they get naked and have intercourse. Thanks to all the favorites and feedback, hope you enjoy. This story has been re-submitted for spacing errors that might have been entirely my fault along with random and minor tweaks, so all feedback was potentially valid at the time it was originally posted. A Misanthrope and Artichokes Or A Variation on a Story The sound was eerily similar to that of a horse smacking its lips together. The sound of boredom expressed without words. This particular sound came from Penelope Alvarez as she leaned into the employee side of the checkout counter of the small deli and convenience store where she worked. She was a perfect woman for most, intelligent and athletic, but also naturally sexy and graceful. So, the sound made little sense, to no one in particular, at first. Most would think her gorgeous by looking at her never-ending legs, or the bottom curves of her cheeks just peeking out of her beige short shorts, or her heavy breasts hung against the oversized green 'uniform' shirt, or her softly ethnic facial features with golden brown skin across her body, but it was her movements as she leaned that were naturally sexy for the others: her shiny black pony tail swinging lightly in tune with her knee, her knee of the bent right leg moving side to side, her calf of the straightened leg as it randomly flexed, or her bangs left to hang on one side of her face while constantly fixing the other side behind her ear. (bam) No one, though, was able to see a smile with perfect teeth, for Penelope had a problem. Penelope was bored - hence the sound. Tuesday nights, the last few hours before closing, always sucked the life from her. She worked the night shift Tuesday through Saturday, and Tuesday was like this most of the time. On occasion, there had been a customer or twenty with large orders, she was betting and hoping on such things, but she knew the odds of such were worse than the beeping lottery machine to her left. The sound, similar to a horse, was heard by no one, again. Penelope knew this was not where she was supposed to be, this was not what she was meant for, and that only made the boredom worse. The boredom deafened her, defined her, and depressed her now. She was too energetic, too perky for this, but money always wins when there is none left over. She was stuck in her current life, and she missed her old life, the life she was living. The rumor ruined that old life. Gone were the groups of friends and endless parties and trips associated with them. Gone were the random kindnesses associated with beauty. Gone was her happiness and ability to love; the two things that she wanted most right now. Gone was her ability to get any job in town but this one. The rumor had been ruining her life for the last two of her twenty-five years. It had ruined her out of community college. It had ruined her out of her father's home and into her small efficiency apartment. It had even ruined her out of her family, friends, and love, into the job she now worked. The worst part of the whole rumor/boredom situation being that the rumor was not true. If the rumor did not exist, she would be somewhere else, and she would not be bored somewhere else, because she was the life of the party. Those wrongs everyone in her previous and current life so sternly accused her of had never happened. Well, mostly did not happen. Either way, she was still all by herself and stuck with it. As Penelope pondered her hole and more attempts out of it, through doldrums of boredom, she waited at the counter next to the phone, lottery machine, and register. Not a customer to be seen as she fell onto the counter with her left elbow, perfect apple-bottom in the air. In the last hour, before she began to draw invisible shapes on the plastic scratch guard over the counter, above the menus and winning tickets, no one had called in an order on the deli line. Penelope had cleaned the store, and the grill; it was cold sandwiches, quick groceries, and cigarettes only time. She was now bored enough to contemplate doing more of someone else's work. She was almost lost in her space, alone in the store, as she dropped her chin to the palm of her supporting arm and began tapping a finger to her temple. Penelope knew all the prices and specials, memorized as a consequence of past Tuesdays, there was nothing there but the same, so she compared that to her life. Penelope glanced over at her cell phone, her only phone with zero options, tucked in a corner behind the register to her right. No calls, no messages, not for many days now. The only calls she ever received these days were those from people who needed her to cover a shift; those of the older ladies with families and friends. Customers had told most of her co-workers of the rumor, this was her hometown, so they seldom spoke to her otherwise. Nothing here or there but the same. "Fucking Tuesdays..." she said aloud to herself after moving her gaze back to the winning ticket, below the plastic. It was a twenty-five dollar winner on a "Money 4 Life" scratch-off that she had been tracing with her free hand. Penelope had an hour until posted store closing, thirty minutes until she could "close early" due to lack of business. Her boredom would continue sustaining itself, as would her contemplation, contemplating everything she could because she was bored. She was contemplating hating the people that put her here, and everyone they knew. She was contemplating adopting a pet to ease her pain. She was contemplating how twenty-five dollars was winning for life. She was contemplating if that was a conundrum or irony. She was contemplating stealing dinner from the deli counter again. She was contemplating how she almost cried at a one dollar tip in her empty jar earlier in the evening. She was contemplating trashing hope and faith. Penelope was so lost in random thoughts that she never heard the bell as the young man entered, at least, not until the door closed. *** "D-d-done, fi-i-inal-ly," the young man of twenty-five said vocally as he finished, setting the soldering iron down on its burn proof stand. He plugged his obsession in and began testing. Wilbert was a listener and a looker, but always at a distance. He watched people be people, and he listened to what things could tell him, whenever they could tell him anything - seldom creepy. He couldn't help but look and listen, as talking for him was always a mess. Right now, instead of a person, object(s), or people, he was listening to his stomach growl. He needed real food beyond caffeine, and he also needed a shower. He smiled to himself as he packed the tested servo motor into the box with the bubble wrap and a static bag, packaging that he had set aside just for it. His nearby computer, as it shut down, played the 'log off' tone just as he folded over the edges of the box and began taping. He was being proud of himself, the only person he knew who always was. Two days straight it had taken him to build, that's the type of thing he did. He loved electronics and appliances; he always had, especially to his mother's detriment when he disassembled something she needed more often than not during his youth. He loved electrical things enough to make specialty parts in a hurry for well paying opposite coast and international clients. Sometimes he loved them to detriment of sleep and appetite; he loved the part he had just made that much. He loved electronics more than people, as electronics never berated him for his odd ways and people almost surely did. Well, people except for her. She had never really spoken to him though, more so the other way around. After eighteen years of unrequited love, longer than he knew what love was, she disappeared, even though in his mind, he had never existed as far as she knew. Now, mid-twenties, he could not remember how long it had been since last time he had seen her. Silently, he cursed himself for not speaking to her in grade school, then middle school, then high school, then college, when he had the chance. Wilbert Martin Powers really had not meant to faint that day at college, the last time he had seen her. He never meant to faint period, but he always did when he was overwhelmed, or almost when she spoke in his presence. When he awoke in the dark, on the college lawn and next to some hedges, he knew she was gone and had not even seen him. In fact, no one had seen him faint, and no one realized he was not around. His lifelong one-sided Juliet had only accidentally bumped in to him, almost running, and then continued on. He would have bet money that she did not know his name. That was also the first day he heard the rumor, but he knew it couldn't be true - well, not entirely true. The last time he had seen her was the closest he had been to her since Language class in fifth grade. He had fainted that day too, but at least the school had called an ambulance. That was the day they started calling him "WiMP" and it continued even now that he was halfway to fifty, some of his more evil ex-classmates still lived around the area. This was his hometown though, so he chose safety over friends and a new life. At least he always knew where he was going around the sparsely populated town, he really only went to the supermarket, hardware store, and deli. With little time in social context, he managed to keep the taunts, and faints, to a minimum. It wasn't that he was unattractive, in fact the opposite, and it wasn't that he was a 'loner' intentionally. Wilbert was just a super smart nerd with a speech impediment and glasses. So much so, that even the small children in his neighborhood called him 'the stuttering dork' and egged his house every Halloween and Friday. Wilbert set the now sealed box off to the side, checking to make sure his soldering iron, and other tools and gadgets were off. Double checking the address on the package, for shipping, he flicked the lamp on his work bench off, making his way towards his home and away from his little shop at the back of the house. He took a deep breath of fresh, late summer air as he walked through his over groomed yard, and past his in-ground pool, proud of his hard work here as well. Wilbert waved to his only friends along the way, his neighbors, the Evans's, sitting on their screened-in porch, a short distance above, and past, his privacy fence. They were a nice and wealthy retired couple, and he was always happy to help them when they needed it, free of charge. He was equally as well off after his parent's accident, even more so since his small business had taken off well from an after school hobby. Wilbert set his own hours these days, so he was always around to help the neighbors -- friends - whenever he could, or if they asked. The couple returned his wave, the gray man throwing out "Glad you're done Billy! You shouldn't work so much, lad! Honestly, Billy, two days straight?! You need to find a good woman! It worked for me!" He kissed his equally aged wife as he finished hollering. The pair of retirees returned back into their wicker and comfortable silences after sensing Wilbert was not in the mood to chat. He clearly smiled at the older gentleman and continued walking through the well lit landscaping, but he knew "Old Man" Evans was correct. Right now he loved the idea of a shower and the thoughts of food more than his benevolent electricity, and conversations about women, so he decided to skip an attempt at a talk with his best, only, and understanding, friend, other than Mrs. Evans and Lumpy. He made it to his deck at the back of the house before he remembered the note he had written on Sunday night, after he shaved last, just before bed. The note attached to his fridge that read "you only have beer and milk in here, so go shopping tomorrow before you start on the new contract." "C-crap-p-pola," he said to himself, the only person he tried to speak with often, as he ran his hand through his side-parted blonde hair, absently smoothing the calic at the back. "W-what t-t-t-time is it? ...E-e-excellen-ent," Wilbert said as he checked his watch, "8-8:3-3-30, I've g-got t-t-t-t-time, b-b-b-but-t I-i c-can't-t-t ss-shave if-f I'mmm g-gon-na m-mm-m-make it." As he ran in to the house and towards the shower, he was trying to figure out the last time he had been to LaVino's Deli, two blocks away, when it wasn't lunchtime. "Has to be like two years, right?" He was gargling water in the shower when he spoke the answer to the thought, and it was not clearly. It had taken him that long to figure out, when Penelope Alvarez disappeared from his life, through the fog of mind and memory and the shower. *** The sound of the bell on the closing door finally snapped Penelope out of her daze, causing her to look up. It was just in time to see the back of the young man's head, his blonde hair, and his ass in his cargo shorts. She was the sexual type, and a stunningly attractive flirt to go with it, but she had been alone since the rumor, and now found herself staring at every ass, even the bad ones, without saying a word. It was really all too much for her, being so pent up, and any chances at sex or relief were only with those dirty sleaze balls that clearly believed in lies. So she had zero chances. Maybe if she had a car, she could get away, but she left her father's house with nothing but clothes and a few dollars for a gross motel. Going from nothing to extreme poverty took this long; the car would have to wait. So Penelope watched the ass of the blonde man disappear, around an aisle, but his face was now visible. She knew him, the odd kid from her school days, the one who fainted in fifth grade when she asked him for the scissors. He was a smart one, but odd to her; always looking, never talking; a bad joke in motion with Alfalfa's sprouts to boot. She smiled to herself, and chastised herself for it, thinking of the day the principle had read the valedictorian speech. Wilbert ran off the stage, only moments after arriving at the podium, never saying a word beforehand. She had felt sorry for him that day, he did look terribly nervous, almost like he was going to cry, but it was still funny in a mean kind of way. Mean especially, because many of the students began chanting "WiMP! WiMP!" as he ran off the stage, and they were oblivious to the understanding looks of the parents and administrators all the while. As he walked through the aisles of pre-packaged gourmet foods, with Penelope watching in silence, Wilbert wished at the various items like he wanted them all, while she continued recalling what she knew about him; more pleased for the distraction than she anticipated. The two had gone to school, and college together, memories of him always in the distance. Penelope could not recall ever seeing him anywhere else though. Vaguely, Penelope remembered hearing about the local couple that had died in an accident with a deer shortly after she graduated high school, and that they were his parents. In the eighteen or so years of their proximity, and extended silences, it was her first attempt at his influences of personality, and the first time Penelope wanted to talk to Wilbert instead of barely asking something of him or saying nothing. He had somehow lodged in her head. Penelope knew he was never at a school dance, never at a college party. She would know since she had been to them all. Before the rumor, she was the popular one, the first squad cheerleader one, the always invited one, and the one who always had a date with the hunkiest guys around. Sympathy suddenly flooded her mind; she was accidentally where he had been for a long time: Alone. She continued dreaming with open eyes as he filled his taut arms with cans and bags of the various fine foods the deli offered. His muscles were flexing to contain all of the items, when baskets were but a few short feet away. "He's grown up since school," she thought to herself, now seeing a quiet awkward man instead of a scared and fragile kid who always fainted. She also studied his profile, guessing that he worked out, but not too much, as his dark blue t-shirt fit him nicely, all the while imagining him naked. "Get a hold of yourself, potential or not, he won't want a thing to do with you. He probably knows the rumor like everyone else. Besides, he's never spoken to you. He's just a customer," she was trying to convince herself, but failing. This was the first entertaining thing in hours, and it was keeping her feelings from hate and boredom. He finally looked satisfied as he made his way to the counter, and the register, as if he would fall if he stopped trying. The way he carried himself and his items was pure sweet amusement to Penelope. She couldn't help but giggle at his awkward demeanor while he stared at the small can he held in one hand - the only thing not in his arms. He was fascinated by the can, as if it could fix the world. Wilbert stopped walking at the sound immediately though, at the sound of female laughter. He stopped at the giggles that were long ago burnt into his memory. He was only a few paces from the counter when he heard it, and his jaw dropped as he lifted his head. He had found her, and he forgot where he was, and what he was doing. All he could hear was her husky voice, slowly fading into the distance. A small can of artichokes fell from his grip, he ignored it, his fascination was relocated. His Juliet was before him. "You want a sandwich or something, Billy?" Penelope was smiling at him and his lack of tact, suddenly remembering the years of middle school all at once. He had followed her around even back then, always in silence, always detached at a distance. Even though he had grown up, grown up handsome and strong, the look on his face, now, was the same as it was back then. "Billy...?" Penelope trailed off while she watched his eyes roll into his head, the mock groceries fall out of his arms, and his body fall to the floor. He had fainted, again. "Oh, Billy..." Penelope said as she walked around the counter to the fallen man and checked his pulse. For the first time in eighteen years, the first time of their entire non-existent relationship, Penelope Alvarez touched Wilbert Powers. Noting that he was alive, and warm, she smiled, walked over to the door, and locked it, turning off the light for the sign as she did. For once, surprisingly glad for a slow Tuesday night and cleaning jobs finished early, Penelope quickly returned to the fallen man to try and wake him. She flipped the sign to "Closed" before she went, fifteen minutes earlier than allowed by policy when there was little business. *** Someone was saying his name over and over. That did not make much sense to Wilbert, since few people knew his name, or cared enough to repeat it. He heard it again, like it was hushed and in another room. He was hearing it over the pain in his head and the pats to the stubble on his face. And then his nose started burning... Really burning... Someone was tickling his brain with stinky fire. *** "Are you alright?" Penelope waited until Wilbert finished blinking before she said anything. "I-i-i, I t-t-think-k I-i-i..." "Fainted? Yes, you did, Billy." Her face was all sympathy, angelic sympathy. "Are you ok?" Penelope put angelic concern on her face when he didn't answer, along with a slight smile, as Wilbert sat up. He was looking around while rubbing the back of his head. Apparently, he did not know where he was, or that's what it appeared to be. A Misanthrope and Artichokes "Billy?" She asked again when he didn't respond. "Y-y-y-y-you know m-my n-n-n-n-" Wilbert was looking right at her now. "Name? Of course I do, silly, we went to school together for so long, how could I not? But that's not important. Are you ok?" Penelope was beginning to get worried; she knew the dangers of concussions. He had hit the floor hard, and her nurses training, before she dropped out, had gotten well beyond that, just uncertified. "Um... m-m-my nose b-burns... and-d-d m-m-my h-h-h-" he spoke as if he were shivering, obviously struggling. "Head hurts? Yeah, you hit the floor pretty hard. The smelling salts made your nose burn," she held up the small tube; "From the first aid kit. Here... follow my finger for a second," Penelope said, holding a finger up and noting his eyes were a soft light green behind his newly unadjusted glasses. He followed it well; he was probably ok, but definitely in a daze. "Do you feel tired?" "Y-y-y" Wilbert chose to nod his head 'yes' instead of attempting to finish. "B-b-but-t-t I-i've b-been w-w-wor-work-king n-n-non-n s-s-" "Non-stop? Like all day?" This wasn't good, Penelope couldn't tell if it was work, or the hit, that was making him tired and aloof, she had to check his balance. "Can you stand up? Here... let me help you." She stuck out her hand as she stood. Wilbert got lost in Penelope's legs as she moved higher. They were perfectly shaped, tanned past her naturally light brown skin, and smooth as oil. Her skin almost appeared to be glowing in the harsh food-sale lighting. Around her right ankle, just above her sneaker and tiny sock profile, was a tattoo that said "CHAINS" with each letter separated by a link. "Billy?" Penelope saw him staring at her legs. She knew he liked her; he always had with silent brutal honesty. She had acknowledged it in passing amusement a few times in the past, but left it at that. The longer she studied him now, though, the more details of their quiet past floated foreword. "S-s-sor-r-rr- sorry," Wilbert said, finally accepting her hand. She grunted trying to lift him, and ended up having to lean back with the effort. He was heavier than his solid frame looked. Penelope nearly fell herself as he finally got to his feet under his own power. Up close he was a short length past her average height - Alfalfa hair length not included - and he smelled like a shower. "It's ok, don't worry about it. They are nice legs from what I hear," she was almost giggling at him again as she spoke in her sexy voice, and she could tell he was ok. His balance was steady and even now, like when he had arrived - but before staring at the can. "So are you ok?" She asked him even though she knew, she wanted to be safe. His fragility was cute enough to almost turn her on, as it didn't fit his body, and it was reminding her of the lottery ticket's conundrum. Two things that don't belong together. "Y-y-y," he nodded 'yes' again, Ys were never his strong suit, and yes was always far behind. When he finished nodding, his head twisted to the side, and he studied her, and her blue eyes, for a long moment, as if something had suddenly become clear. "Want some help with this stuff?" Penelope didn't wait for his answer as she bent down and started gathering packaged goods from the floor. "R-r-r-right, y-y-y, t-thanks, P-p-p-en-nel-l," he didn't finish; instead he slowly bent down and began to help with the mess he had made, glad that nothing was in glass. "Just call me Penny, Billy, it will probably be easier, I think... and I don't mind," she said while her smile seemed endless, pearly whites on display. Arms full, she turned to lift and drop the contents onto the counter. When she had finished, she made her way around to the other side and began to ring the various items up. Wilbert watched her stunning rear and sculpted calves as she went about, but caught himself before Penelope did. "Ok-k, P-p-penny, s-s-sor-r-ry ag-g-gain-n f-f-for f-f-" Wilbert was turning to look at the floor where he had fallen, feeling dumb, and embarrassed at his actions. He was turning slightly red because of it as he tried to speak, even if he was quite tanned from the summer sun. "For fainting and the mess? Don't be sorry for that, Billy, and don't worry yourself. I'm not going to tell anyone. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen you do it." She stopped talking as she picked up the can of artichokes to check the price - his fascination - making a 'grossed out' face at it, and sticking her pink tongue out for just a moment before returning to her personable air. "I've never seen anyone buy this stuff, do you actually eat this? Isn't it gross?" Wilbert had heard her speak; he couldn't react: her tongue had shocked him, and she had used it in the sexiest way he could have imagined, between her bottom lip and top teeth. He just stared at her blue eyes, her perfect skin without make-up, and especially her juicy lips, hoping for a repeat performance. "Billy?" Penelope was starting to have fun, for the first time in a long time. She knew she had a huge effect on men, their rude comments and vulgar stares gave them away. Wilbert was different. He wasn't just attracted; he was enamored with her presence. By speaking again, she snapped him out of his gawk. "Uh... w-w-what? Oh, t-t-the ar-rt-t-tic-c, it's g-good. T-t-they j-j-just-t g-g-get-t-t a-a b-b-bad r-r-rap's-s-sall." He let out a breath as he finished speaking. Penelope figured this must be hard for him to do, talk this much. In fact, she had not heard him speak since language class back in the day, which was 'barely' even then. It was not like they ever interacted since - as far as she knew. He suddenly had a look of fear on his face as she gave him his total, and bagged the various foods up. Wilbert pulled out his wallet and paid, Penelope noting just how stuffed full of green it was. She knew he was smart, and now she assumed he had found success, but that mattered little compared to his expression. She could tell he was going to ask her something, that he wanted to, but it looked as if the fear would not let the words form. Sympathy struck her again, but not in a sorrow or pity type of way. She was going to help. "Just ask, Billy. Whatever it is, just ask. I won't be mean to you, I promise." Penelope was smiling between speaking, like angels and good mothers do. "You're too sweet for me to do that. You've always been nice from what I've seen. Don't worry, handsome." Penelope changed her smile to 'beat hell' as she finished and his body tensed to relaxed. She really did love the fact that he did not have a mean bone to throw at her, she knew it. It had been a long time since she felt that way. "D-d-d-do y-y-y-y-ou w-w-want t-t-t-t-to t-t-t-try s-s-s-ome? T-t-t-this-s i-i-is m-m-mmy d-d-din-n-n-r, b-b-b-" Wilbert was taking his chance, this couldn't be anything else but a perfect chance, and he wasn't going to lose it now. The effort on his face was visibly strained, mostly from the word handsome. "You want to have dinner with me? Aren't you so sweet? Are you trying to ask me out tonight, Billy Powers?" Penelope felt her heart leap, she had forgotten the sensation. A smart and kind person was asking her out for the first time in two years, someone who she knew liked her. Lucky for her, as extra from her boredom, she had forgotten to snag some food. Three years ago, she would have continued to pay him little mind. The thing on his mind though, was what she was paying attention to now. Not for his obvious money and surely not to use him. She could feel love, love from a person she did not know. A person, whom like everyone else, surely heard the rumor, and still desired her like men previously had in her old life - not because of lies. "Y-y-yeah, k-k-k-kinda..." Wilbert was looking at the floor, with his one hand rubbing his head, but not where he had hit it. The other hand was holding onto the counter with white knuckles. His nervousness was blatant, obvious, all over him. Penelope thought he might faint, again, if she wasn't careful. "I would love to eat artichokes with you, Billy," Penelope slid her soft hand on top of his, very slowly, in view of his down turned eyes, trying to reassure him and catch his gaze, praying he did not faint. She did not think Wilbert could take another hit like that onto the tile floor, let alone to the counter. "Did you drive here?" He didn't faint. In fact, Wilbert looked relieved from her attempts to reassure, he smiled for the first time since he had arrived, and it was a beautiful, genuine smile. "N-n-no, I-i-i W-ww, I-i l-l-live c-c-c-" He was pointing to a wall at the store with his free hand as he spoke, trying to get his point across without words though looking vastly confident beneath the strain. For the first time, he thought trying to be with Penelope might just be easier than the myths of anxiety foretold. "You walked here, and you live close by?" Penelope asked question on her face. Wilbert nodded 'yes' in reply. "Great! I wanted to make sure you got home safe anyway. C'mon, let me walk you." He looked full of sorrow as she pulled her hand away, grabbed her phone, and walked around the counter, keys suddenly jingling in one hand with her phone in her back pocket. His sadness was short lived, as it floated away when she hooked her arm in his, and grabbed the bag of goodies with her key filled hand, the pair making their way to the door. "You ready?" she asked him as she locked the door from the outside. She was looking into his eyes as she spoke, giving him proper chills. This time though, he didn't attempt a 'yes' verbally, he only nodded and lead the way to his home, just two blocks away. *** "When I said 'you need a girl' I didn't think it would be tonight!" The Old Man was smiling wide. He had caught a glimpse of the pair from his porch, strolling up Wilbert's driveway. The groceries were still in Penelope's hand and swinging slightly. The pair were still arm-in-arm. "Who's that?" Penelope asked Wilbert, her face full of divine curiosity. They didn't speak much during the short journey, Wilbert only asked enough to get her to answer about the medical training. At a glance, it was a pair strolling in the silence of contentment, all smiles at the clear evening and the sudden company. "T-t-th-tha, MMr. Eev-vans, m-my b-b-best f-f-friend. Y-y-you w-w-wa-n-n-want-t-?" "Yeah, let's go say 'hello' to him," Penelope knew the best way to learn about a man's heart was through his friends, after his stomach. She was going to be, at least, Wilbert's friend from now on. "Well hello there, pretty young lady. Name's Lord Alfred Evans the Fifth, Esquire and associated to royalty among other things, how to you do," the Old Man was bowing to her, with an invisible hat removal included. "You dirty old flirt," his wife said to him immediately after he finished speaking, smacking his side in tandem. "...and this is my wife, Deloris," he said, motioning in his wife's direction with a hand flick, as if it took too much effort. She remained seated, but shook hands with the stranger nonetheless. "It's nice to meet you both as well, Alfred and Deloris. I'm Penelope Alvarez, how do you do." The Old Man didn't miss a beat, but his wife cringed ever so subtly, missed only by Wilbert. The Old Man kicked his wife's foot with his own as he watched his friend. Penelope had all of Wilbert's attention, especially the phone pressed into her back pocket, and the ass it was against. The Old Man knew the name. This girl was the only person Wilbert had ever spoken of, and at great length. Plus, there was that rumor. "So you finally found her, eh, lad? This is her, huh...? Took you long enough." The Old Man turned to Penelope when he spoke next, he could tell Wilbert really wasn't paying attention anyhow, for the first time. "You know, I've lived next to this young man his whole life, and you are the first woman I have ever seen him with." The Old Man was trying every subtle trick he knew to throw the message to her, along with a few other things she should know, among which was "don't worry about my wife, she'll live." "Really?" she replied to the Old Man, her gaze shifting to Wilbert, her mouth going slightly agape. Penelope knew what the older gentleman was saying, even if the wife was snubbing her. He had, as casually as he could, warned her of Wilbert's virginity and inexperience. The Old Man knew his friend could never tell her himself. Wilbert was suddenly looking very nervous and red; he had started paying attention. "You know, Billy here has been telling me for years about you. Did you know that? He thinks you are the greatest thing in the world - besides electricity - so go easy on him, huh?" The Old Man was grinning generously, both at his ploy and at Wilbert's nervousness. "Oh, I will, don't you worry..." Penelope said, turning from Wilbert to the Old man, then back again. "Well, we just wanted to say 'hello' before Billy here makes me a light dinner. It was a pleasure to meet you both." Penelope was smiling to mirror the Old Man as she spoke, looking only at Wilbert. Finally she understood so much, from such a short conversation, about the boy who became a man, but still fainted, and never spoke to her when he had the chance. "Same here, little lady, you two have a fun night. Me and the Misses are heading in soon, so don't you worry about us watching you kids in the pool." The Old Man lightly punched Wilbert in the shoulder when he finished speaking, making the younger man jump out of his nervousness, and stare a 'thank you' and 'what the heck' at his best friend. "S-s-see y-y-y-you b-both l-l-later, t-t-t-then," Wilbert said nodding and turning, Penelope still at his arm. The pair left and made their way to Wilbert's porch, through the gate to the back yard, to the door towards the back of the house. "You have a pool? Oh that's wonderful, Billy..." was the last thing the Old couple heard as the pair slowly disappeared. "That's that girl who-" the Old Lady began to say as their neighbor entered his house. "Oh shut up you old nag," the Old Man said, smiling to his loving, and longtime, wife. "That boy deserves what he's got there, and you know as well as I do that rumors don't mean diddly. Hell, if I believed in them, we wouldn't be married." "I wish..." the Old Lady cut in without interrupting. "So quit being a prude and let's go to bed. I'm feeling frisky tonight." He offered his hand to his wife, almost curtsying as he did. "Aren't you always? You are such a sleazy old man..." His wife said, taking his hand and smacking him in the ass this time. The older couple disappeared into the house, shortly after an extended kiss on their back porch, flicking off most of the rear outside lights on the way. *** "Your yard is beautiful. I've never seen anything like it. Did you do that yourself?" Penelope had placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter as she spoke to him, looking around at the kitchen and pulling items out of the plastic. All of the countertops were marble, and all of the cabinets retro, but unfinished; though the appliances looked as new as they did fifty years ago. Each had the soft teal color of the older styles, the fridge being the kind they warned about climbing into, latched with a chrome handle. "Uh...y-y-" Wilbert nodded 'yes' again. "Did you fix all these up? Is that what you do, like appliance repair and stuff?" Penelope was pointing to the various items in the kitchen; she couldn't imagine how his entertainment system looked if he was using stuff like this in here. She was impressed at his skill, and the order and quality of the things she could see. Wilbert nodded again, another silent 'yes' as he began to get out a cutting board, and some plates, for serving the light meal. "I-i d-d-do s-s-s-ome-m other-r s-s-stuf-f t-t-too." He managed to speak as she floated towards the doorway to the dining room and living room, leaning in to glance. Through the stuttering he watched her single lifted leg and curious looks while leaning into the other rooms with a hand on either side of the frame, peering out of the kitchen. "D-d-do y-you w-want a-a-a b-b-beer?" was all he could think to ask, her person was cluster-fucking his mind. "Sure, thank you. You sure have a lot of albums in there, it looks like some set-up," Penelope commented as she headed towards the fridge ahead of him. She couldn't help but smile more at the note held by a fruit shaped magnet on the upper door of the fridge. She grabbed two beers, popped them with one of her key chains, and then placed the caps in the trash. Her keys and phone went onto the far end of the smooth counter, near the door, soon after. "Tt-thank-ks," Wilbert said to her as she set a beer down to his left. "W-why d-d-don't-t y-you p-pp-pick-k-" "Pick an album out?" She knew what he was asking, but after the sight of that stereo, she was not sure she could ever turn it on. She knew how to work vinyl, but that stereo was a whole other issue. Wilbert nodded, but he could sense her unease, he had seen it on her face before, the day he never saw her again. "J-j-just h-h-hit t-t-the b-b-big r-r-red b-b-but-t-ton. Y-y-y-you'll-l d-d-do f-f-fin-ne. D-d-dont-t w-wo-worry. I-if y-y-you-w b-break-k s-s-someth-thin-ng, I-i c-c-can f-f-f-fix it," he was teasing her as best as she could tell. She smiled, the worry gone, it was the first time, in a long time, that anyone knew what she was thinking or bothered to take the time, let alone tease her with kindness. Wilbert really was sweet. Before she went to pick the album of her choice, she kissed him lightly on the cheek of his stunned face, with a foot lifted and a hand on his solid chest, the other on her beer. "Thanks, you really are a sweetheart," she said after the light touch, making her way to the living room. This man was letting her use his stuff, she knew how big of a deal that was. Wilbert had set the knife down when he saw her coming; he really didn't think he could stay conscious with the vision before him or with her bouncy breasts touching his arm. He was amazed that he had not fainted, again - so far - to begin with. He didn't pick the knife up, or continue setting things out, until he followed her frame out of view. He also waited until after a very large and deep breath, followed by a chug of his beer. When Wilbert heard Buffalo Springfield start to play, he knew he was in love. Well, he knew it after he fought the urge to faint, again. Penelope had picked one of his favorites without his suggestion. He finished re-seasoning the various foods to his taste shortly after, and made his way to the living room table, two unopened beers and a bottle opener included. "So what's your turtle's name?" Penelope was asking him, hands on her knees, and bent to look into the small creatures face. Wilbert could only stare at her bottom as he set down the tray. He didn't respond, until she turned her head to face him, winked, and asked again - with a smile. "T-t-t-or-t-t-toise..." His intention and her interpretation finally went all wrong after he spoke this time. "Your turtle's name is Tortoise? That's kind of silly..." Penelope really thought it was. Before she had ever finished, Wilbert was laughing. It was the first time she had heard him laugh, and she knew what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. She wanted to make this man laugh forever. It was the sexiest thing she had observed a man do, and he did it well. Not to mention it was the most wonderful sound she had ever heard. It would become her goal; nursing job and wealth be damned. His laughter came clear, and stutters free, with the beauty of its honesty shining through the full body movement. It was at that same time that she decided to try and sleep with him, his whole self was making her wet, to her own surprise. A Misanthrope and Artichokes "N-no, i-it-t's a t-t-tor-r-toise, Pp-enny. H-h-his n-n-n-name i-is L-l-lump-p-py." Wilbert was fighting to watch her eyes, as her nipples had become hard through her shirt. The look on her face was new to him also, but it paled in comparison to her appearance in his soft interior lighting. He forced thoughts of turtles and tortoises through his mind, hoping his slowly growing penis would listen and act the part. Wilbert needed all his blood in his big head, he needed to stay conscious. "Oh... right of course, duh," Penelope laughed at both herself, and the new name, as she bonked her own head with her palm. "Well hello there Mr. Lumpy, aren't you a cutey," she wiggled her finger at the large glass tank, towards the watching tortoise, as she now spoke. The sight of her fine behind, visible once again as she re-bent, slowed Wilbert's descent to the couch. Penelope turned and went to join him; she had busted him staring, again. "It's ok. You can look all you want. I don't mind in the least, Billy. It's nice to have some kind attention for once." She sat close to him, but not touching, as each was now splitting one of the two seams of the three cushions on the couch. He smiled and handed her a plate. There was already a few napkins, and some forks, on the table, brought with the tray. He did not take his hand away, though. He held his index finger out over the plate for a moment. When it was clear Penelope was watching the hand and finger, he moved it a short distance from his face, to point at his eyes. Then there were two fingers. He was silently saying "watch" as he reached for the specialty toast he had bought for a 'fresco' meal. Slowly he dipped the hardened bread into one of the minced substances, and set the combination onto his plate. He then grabbed a fork, scooped some of the artichokes from the can with the lid removed, and placed them onto the combination on his closer moved plate. "A-al-l l a-at-t w-w-w-once," Wilbert said to her as she concentrated on his movements, she had the entire time he instructed her, amazed at his silent communication. He popped the crunchy, yet moist, concoction into his mouth, smiling and grabbing a cut slice of imported, and hardened, cheese. He closed his eyes as he chewed, clearly enjoying the flavor. After a few moments, he took a bit of a bite of the cheese, washing it down with some crafted beer, and opening his eyes to look at her. "T-t-trust m-me, y-y-y-y-u, it's g-good." He was smiling at her attention, looking at the details of her expression. Wilbert's eyes went incredibly wide, and his brow furrowed with upturned eyebrows, when her sparkling irises went from blue to purple. It was the first time Penelope Alvarez knew how she was going to live in her world. She would take joy beyond pleasure from the smallest of moments. She had just witnessed such a thing for the first time, and she knew that's how Wilbert had survived. Now she understood how he lived through the taunts, the stutters, the ridicule, and the hate. "I've never had anything like this... but, I do trust you," Penelope said to him, though her face was now slightly wary. She went about the same routine as Wilbert, short of putting the cheese on her plate and grabbing a napkin beforehand. She clutched the napkin aside in the same hand she used for serving herself the whole time she moved around. "G-g-good c-c-choic-se, b-b-by the w-way," Wilbert was pointing with his index finger, beer still in his hand, right at the main receiver to the stereo. "L-l-lllove th-th-this-s." "Oh, Buffalo Springfield, yeah my dad used to listen to this all the time. He said he and my mom made me while it played. He listened to it when he missed her, and I missed it. It's been a long time since I have heard it... Long time..." Penelope looked far away and sad for a moment, her eyes turning blue again. "Ok, here goes nothing!" She had shaken her head for clarity before she spoke, popping the combination, the same as he had eaten, onto her tongue all at once after she had finished. There was a flash mob in her mouth, and everyone was invited to the party. It was almost too much food for her to fit at first, causing her to breath deep in her nose when she began to chew. The attack of multiple, clearly separate, flavors mixing in her mouth made her 'mmm' continuously. Penelope had never known food was like this, the feeling and depth of taste compared to her beloved chocolate. She had always been a normal eater; gourmet was never on her mind. It was then she remembered the cheese and the beer. The roof of the party was raised, and her palette could not have felt better if she were licking heaven. "Oh Billy..." she whispered as if in his ear. Wilbert could only watch, in disbelief, as she smiled, never breaking eye contact, and tongued her own mouth while it was closed. There is a point where the little head will win. His manhood leapt in his pants, it had just intercepted and run for the touchdown. The game was on at the sight of the Juliet before him. For the first time, Wilbert was having a date, and it was the best date of his life. The food sex they were having continued throughout as they munched away to smiles and intermittent conversation. It was the first time in his life that he thought he might be able to sleep with a woman, let alone his Juliet; Penelope's nipples were pointing the way. *** "Y-y-you s-said u-u-u-used-used to... Y-y-your d-dad-d, d-did h-he d-d-die?" His head was bobbing front to back in time with the syllables, as usual. The tray still sat on the table, both new beers opened by Penelope. The couple had eaten their fill, relaxation abounding; now sipping away, each leaning on an arm of the couch, facing each other. They had been almost touching throughout the big little meal, short of when Wilbert went to flip the vinyl, or change to the other record of the set. He spoke after arriving at the couch only moments ago, he lounged with his right knee past the center line of the couch, short-sock covered foot dangling in the air. The other sole rested on the floor. Penelope had been sitting the same way, but moved to sit on her left leg after he asked about her father, inadvertently about her family. She pulled into herself, but only a little. "No. No he's still alive. He, uh, just sort of, just stopped talking to me. I kind of, well, got, uh, exiled from my family..." She had the sad look once again, still just as beautiful. "'C-c-c-cause of-v..." Wilbert stopped, he had caught himself late though. His intention was to just avoid this. He felt unintelligent and embarrassed again. "Way to blow it, dumb-dumb," he thought to himself, the look on his face now as hers. "The rumor... Yeah, everybody knows..." the couple sat in silence for a long while, Wilbert avoiding her soft gaze of study. Penelope could tell he didn't want to talk about this, probably more so than she. Penelope decided to bring it out, to put it in the open for the first time with another person. Before she could, Wilbert beat her to the punch. "Ii-it c-c-can-n't-can't b-be a-all t-true a-anyw-way. Y-Y-Your n-not l-l-lik-ke th-that, a-an-and i-i-itw- w-wou-wouldn-n't m-mmat-tt-ter a-a-an-ny-w-w-w-ay." Wilbert looked as if he wanted to throw up. He should not have eaten so much, but with little choice, he took beer as an antacid. He had not expected all of this, he was hoping against this talk. He survived though, quietly holding back a burp with his fist. "How would you know?" Penelope knew she should be offended for his judging and assumptions. She almost was as the reflex phrasing came out. "Who is he to think he knows who I am?" flashed in her thoughts. The look on his face though, he was watching her now, was almost pleading. His eyes were the saddest thing she had ever seen, puppy dogged for her. For a moment, she could believe the rumor was about his actions instead of her own, pure empathy bringing her to a sniffle. She stayed calm despite her genetic fury. "Did you see it? The video...? A lot of people have... everybody I think." Penelope moved her leg to touch his as she spoke. His skin to her skin was hot, fire and burning, the room felt smaller. All of it was more comforting than anything else, Penelope never cried even though she wanted to. She had always been a strong person, but his muscles flexing slightly and staying to her touch, and his perfect natural loving reaction, were making her tingle in reception. This is how she used to live, how she used to feel. This is what a man was supposed to feel like - and she cursed her self for never noticing. Wilbert nodded his head 'no' in reply to her questioning statement. Wilbert leant forward, seeing Penelope was not angry, and brought his shoulders tight and square. He made a few angled punching moves into the air between Penelope and himself before he started speaking. He moved like a professional fighter, two punches flew faster than even they usually muster. "F-f-f-frist-t t-t-time, o-o-only t-t-time I-i e-ever h-h-hita g-gguy, i-i-in," he paused. "E-eng-gi-n-nneering," he panted heavily, and then continued on. "T-t-trie-ied t-ta g-g-giv-ve m-me a c-c-copy. C-c-callLed y-y-you," Wilbert switched to a mock tough guy voice as he leant back on the arm of the couch and continued, " 'You S-s-should-d- dasee t-t-t-his b-b-bitch.' " His head and shoulders bobbed left to right together, for the first time she had noticed, while he moved with the parroted syllables. It made her smile, clear and cute both ways from either. "You did that? For me?" Wilbert nodded a few times slowly in reply to Penelope's questions, 'yes' this time, showing confidently that he was proud of himself. "Oh Billy... Well thank you, that was nice. When was that? You didn't get in trouble did you?" He was shaking his head 'no' as he tried to speak: "H-h-he-h-h, i-i-it-itw-w-was-w-" The moment he stopped shaking his head, he scrunched his face, almost angry, but more than frustrated at himself and his impediment. He instead chose to point off in the distance a few times before putting his hands in his lap, saddened. His brain continually screamed "fuck" at itself, very loudly in an internal voice. Penelope moved forward and placed a hand on his chin, pulling to look him in the eye before she put the hand on his in his lap. "Good. He's an asshole. Your right, it's not true, I'm glad you felt that way about it. You are probably the only one..." Penelope was smiling at him for the pause before she straight-faced and spoke again. "They uh, it was legitimate, you know, a contract, but, uh, it was supposed to be, like, normal one on one. It was just for money, and it was... We were dating, ya know? But then, he drugged me, on this break, like in the water bottle? I should have known better cause it was open, but I was having fun... and then, the... Well the other guys... and no lawyers would take it..." Penelope was far-off, but not sad, and not speaking in complete thoughts. It felt nice to just get it out what she could and not be judged wrongly. Wilbert made a hand sandwich and patted the top of hers on his own. Just looking at her and blinking, like he understood. He just watched and listened. The silence was left for a few seconds before he spoke. "S-s-swim-m-ming aw-aw-always m-m-makesm m-me f-feelL b-b-better. D-d-doit aw-all lth-the t-t-time. Aw-aw-always-e e-eig-ghty d-d-degr-grees, h-h-heat-heated." He was stating it as best he could verbally, but his face was asking a question with its eyebrows up and his green eyes wide. The slight frown, pouted lower lip, and directional head jerk at the end only emphasized his statement. "Ok, but, Billy," Penelope pointed at him with her free had, index finger out, a comically serious look was strewn across her face. "I'm not getting naked." She continued to point until he reacted. The sound of laughter flowed to her ears again, and she closed her eyes to burn it into her brain. She hummed to herself in a high pitch, crowding her shoulders and knees together in pleasure as she reveled in the sensation. Somehow they both were barely touching the other's entire side, and they were both on the center cushion. Wilbert stood up, holding her hand to guide her off of the couch. When Penelope stood and looked at Wilbert, he Groucho'd and shrugged his shoulders. "Y-You-your c-c-call." With that he led the way, both with thoughts of the body on the mind. *** "Oh my... Billy... It's glorious. I haven't swam in like, two years, last summer or this one, yet." Penelope had just tested the water from the middle of the pool with her bare foot, as the motorized cover finished its run. "G-g-glad I-i c-c-could h-hhelp," he said as he stood next to the outside switch panel on the side of his workshop. "Y-y-you a-ar-are g-g-g-on-nn-na l-l-l... l-LL-l, w-w-watch..." He had scrunched up his eyes toward the end of the statement, but flicked various light switches on and off. The well lit yard now had soft blue lighting in the flower beds, making everything black and white. The main lights were off, and the pool was glowing a soft blue that seemed to stop at the water's surface. "Wow... It's beautiful... ...electricity, huh?" Penelope, enthralled and looking around, noted as he nodded his head in reply, just before taking his shirt off. He had thrown his wallet and keys by her phone on the counter in the slim kitchen. Both of their pairs of white cotton socks had been left on the floor by the door. The feeling of her bare feet on the concrete around the pool reminded Penelope of a nail file compared to the grass in the yard; the grass felt like cotton. She moved to one of the inlaid slate stones at an end of the pool. Wilbert had been observing the porch light as the only light in the Evan's yard, the only other house for a great distance while he stopped removing his shirt; thought had stopped his physical actions. The back yard was separated from most of the other houses as his parents had owned the empty lot next door. Now though, he was watching her stare at his shirtless chest and abs as he held the shirt on his forearms. She was jaw dropped and viewing unrestrained, causing Wilbert became immensely confused and nervous. "W-w-what?" was all he could muster. "Look at you... Oh, Billy... My-my you are grown up... Aren't you?" she said as he tossed his shirt to the grass while chuckling timidly. His pants had been slung low, but his shirt had hid that well. He did not have a belt on, and the very edges of his hips were peaking from the waistline. As he turned and dove into the water, embarrassed at the compliment - but smiling nonetheless - the dimples on his back were exposed with dots on his ribs as he struck the pose for a second before motion. His diving form was flawless in cargo shorts ending at his knees, like watching an Olympian play. Penelope gawked at where he had been until he came out of the water. She then turned to his treading form, and closed her mouth. He looked fit at the store, and in the kitchen or during dinner, but he was build different from the workout freaks she had known. He was a swimmer, long and lean from a lifetime, making the water look effortless. He did not have underwear under his shorts, she could not believe that, or his flawless tan skin. He looked like model, better than most models, all beauty to spite his non-physical flaws. He was her perfect man, he had been there all her life and she never knew it. Penelope had been looking too hard for other things. She felt like herself again just from being around him now. She decided to put on a show, he was watching, treading, waiting. She decided to apologize as she undressed, hoping he wouldn't faint in the water. Wilbert deserved a good show for his loving kindness. "I'm really sorry for never talking to you, Billy. I see now what I've been missing," her belt hit the grass. "I don't know what I was thinking. I should have come to you. I know, now, that you were trying to tell me. I just wasn't listening," her over sized green shirt hit the grass, near her belt. Wilbert's mouth hung open as he walked towards her and the shallow end where she had moved, stopping mid-abs in the water at the sight of her breasts. They were magnificent, easily an oversized C, jammed into a plain white, small C brassiere. Her dark, but small nipples were visible through the cups barely sheer material thanks to the lighting. "I just feel so terrible," Penelope had her hands in her hair, grabbing handfuls of it in the sexiest way she could, slightly twisting her body and bending her knees. When she removed the fingers, they came along with a hair-band on her wrist as the locks spilled free, and flowing. It was like raining silk, and blacker than night, with a reflection on the sheen that made it glow with her skin. "Do you think you can ever forgive me, Billy Powers?" She was fooling with the button and zipper of her shorts as she spoke with the sexiest uncaring mock face she could play. Out of the blue, the lighting that is, the almost too short shorts unclasped, and unzipped, while she slid them down to her feet, past her bent knees, and onto the soft dark red of one of the slate pads cast into the concrete randomly around the slim patio of the pool. Those pieces of slate now appeared black from the light of the gardens and water, while Penelope's skin appeared light gray; both contrasting her glowing white thong and bra. Wilbert could see the darker wet spot at the crotch of her panties, along with the finger of her right hand playing with the string for a waistband and the split of her rounded full lips molded by the fabric. Penelope was falsely, sexily, chewing at the nail of the other hand's index finger. She was watching him react, loving the sensations his eyes produced. "Do you Billy? Do you think you can forgive me? I know you've been waiting." Penelope's tongue came out and touched the index finger on her bottom lip, but only for an instant, teasing. Wilbert could only let out a groan. This was something he could not have imagined, something to destroy fantasy. He felt like he was losing it. His footing wavered, but only for a second. He didn't faint, instead, he fought. He scrunched up his face as hard as he could, and shook his head vigorously for a second or two. Instead of being tired, like he should be from two days of desk naps, the shake brought him his second wind. He was suddenly coursing with energy that he did not know was sexual. Wilbert was still a virgin at twenty-five years of age. When he opened his eyes, Penelope had not moved from place, she only smiled, one leg bent and crossed over the other. Her hands were still on string, and mouth, as she slowly moved her body side to side the way only the Latin woman and women enamored can. The zipper of the cargo shorts began to pinch his full erection. He was forced to adjust it to the side in full view of his Juliet. "Good, thank you, Billy. Thanks for dinner and the lovely evening as well. It could not have come at a better time." Wilbert returned her compliment with a smile, a smile not unlike her own, along with a nod to go with it. Penelope cannon-balled into the water in front of him, splashing Wilbert in the face as she hit, jumping as soon as she saw his answer. They were very near each other, barely at the depth of treading water as he moved to where she surfaced. "Oh, you were so right! This is the best I've felt in forever." Penelope was slowly moving in circles around him, wiping the water and hair from her face, the tops of her breasts peeking the surface as she went around. "I-i n-n-n-knewy-you-you you'd-d l-l-Like it," Wilbert replied as he slowly turned in place to follow her circle. Penelope looked free to him, the way she did before the lies. He decided to answer a question - though well belated - from earlier at dinner. He knew he could, he knew they had forever. He took off his glasses as she approached the side his shirt was on, throwing them onto the clothing from the pool.