Literotic asexstories – Puppy-girl Ch. 01 by kittygirlxo,kittygirlxo
I’m hoping this will become a longer series. Let me know what y’all think!
—
I was getting pissed off. As much as I tried not to, I couldn’t help but feel that itching anger creeping over my skin as I watched the scene play out in front of me. A young girl, probably 21-years-old or less, being groped without consent by the drunk dude who had taken up residence next to her. I watched her swear at him, pushing his hand away as he tried to move it up under the skirt of her dress.
This was a dive bar, so I was used to this type of shit happening, but this punk was so drunk and brazen that I couldn’t help but get pissed off.
I watched him lean forward clumsily, his hands like leeches, as he tried to coax a kiss out of her. I decided enough was enough.
My hand reached his shoulder fast and I gripped him tightly.
“I think the lady said no,” I said, leaning down close to his ear.
The guy turned, his eyes wild with drink and anger. “Who the fuck are you? Y’wanna tell me again how to treat my girlfriend?”
I balked at the word ‘girlfriend’. This drunken punk was her boyfriend? I looked briefly at her; her pale skin had grown a shade of beet red. Her eyes met mine, a deep shade of brown, before they looked away quickly.
“He bothering you?” I asked her, my hand still resting on the punk’s shoulder.
He was trying to push my hand off him, but let’s face it — the guy was scrawny, young, and drunk, and I was a lot older and bigger than him. Probably twice their age, to be honest. I sighed as the girl didn’t answer, she just looked down at her bare legs like a small child.
“Get th’fuck off me,” the punk said, his hands scrabbling at mine to remove my vice grip. “I’ll fuck you up!”
Finally, I looked down at the punk. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had a snarl on his face. Very punchable, I thought.
So I decided that’s what I was going to do. I looked across the bar to the barmaid, June, who was watching the scene unfold carefully, her eyes meeting mine. Her head shook, almost warning me not to do it, and I shrugged apologetically.
Then I punched the damn punk square in the jaw. He went flying back into the bar, spilling his beer all over the place. He cried out like a little kid and when he managed to get back up, he yelled something incomprehensible to me, an angry red hole where his mouth used to be. But I wasn’t done. I gripped the guy’s shirt roughly and dragged him across the floor of the bar towards the front door.
“Thanks, Bill,” I said quickly to the portly man who had opened the door for me, and I threw the punk down onto the concrete.
I didn’t bother to wait and see if he would come back in. I knew he wouldn’t. From the tears running down his face, to the blood spilling from his nose, I knew he was done.
I returned to my seat and swallowed the rest of my whiskey. Turning to the girl, I saw that she was gathering up her bag to leave.
“You all good?” I questioned.
She put her small bag over her shoulder and looked up at me. She was striking, that’s for sure. Her long auburn hair was pulled behind her cute little ears, and her lips were plump and glossy. For wearing what looked like very little make-up, her skin was perfect.
“Um, yeah, I’m fine,” she said, a little breathless. Her hand went to her hair, toying with a long strands as she looked up at me through dark eyelashes. “Thanks, dude.”
I placed a hand on her arm to stop her from leaving. “Was that punk actually your boyfriend? You know you shouldn’t be treated like that, right?”
Her eyes moved down to my hand and she quickly, but gently, pulled her arm out of my grip. “I know. He’s not usually like that… he’s just had a few tonight.”
“Okay,” I answered, frowning at her. “If you wanna believe that then sure.”
“Listen, I’m fine,” she said with a petulant sigh, crossing her arms and looking at me more seriously. “I can handle myself.”
I nodded quietly. I didn’t know the girl, and if she wanted to keep that punk around and get in more trouble, she could be my guest.
“Okay, kid. But if you need anything, you can find me here,” I said, turning back to the bar. I signalled to June for another drink, and she handed me one quickly.
I didn’t watch her leave, but I felt the cool air blowing in from the door being opened and I knew she had. There was something about her, alright. All long legs and moody pout. I could imagine her being a handful, but that punk she was with? He was bad news.
June rolled her eyes at me. “Always sticking your nose in where it don’t belong, Joel,” she said.
“Yeah, well…” I shrugged and took another swig of my drink, my mind still on the young girl who had just left.
—
One week later
I pulled my shirt on and inspected my reflection, smoothing my hand through my hair. I grunted in annoyance at the grey hairs that were sprouting up more each day. Maybe Sasha was right — it was getting more normal for men my age to dye their hair, right? A little dye wouldn’t hurt to cover this up.
“You coming?” The voice of my friend, Sasha. “It’s nearly ten!”
“Yeah, I’m comin’,” I answered.
I walked out into my living room and saw Sasha applying another layer of red lipstick. I rolled my eyes at her.
“You look fine, Sash’,” I said as I pulled on my coat.
“Mm,” Sasha grumbled in response. “I’m gonna score tonight, Joel. Paula will regret ever breaking up with me.”
“Come on, hot stuff,” I joked, opening the door, and watching her grab her things.
“I’m sorry,” a small voice chirped out behind me. “June said you would be here.”
Turning, I was astounded to see the young girl from the bar standing at my door. She wore a pair of blue jeans, and a maroon coat was wrapped around her. Her auburn hair looked messy, pulled up into a bun, and her little face seemed timid. Her eyes dashed from me, then to Sasha who had walked up behind me.
“Jeez, Joel, wait until I’m gone before you bring your booty calls round next time, alright?” Sasha said, eyeing up the girl.
“She’s not a booty call,” I responded quietly, not taking my eyes off the girl. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh… June gave me your address. You said I should find you if I needed anything?”
“Well, yeah, I meant at the bar, not at my home address,” I answered, and mentally I made a note to reprimand June for giving out my address to random women.
“Well… I need something,” she said, ignoring my comment. “Can I come in?”
Without waiting for an answer, she pushed her way inside, moving into my living room.
“Make yourself at home,” I muttered, watching her move to my sofa and perch herself on it.
I heard Sasha sigh behind me. “Is this gonna be a thing? Cause I really need a drink.”
I waved at Sasha distractedly. “Go. I’ll text you when I’m on my way to the bar.”
Sasha left, shutting the door behind her.
I moved into the living room, watching the girl carefully. Her hands wrung together as she perched on the edge of my sofa.
“So…” I said curiously, heading across the room and leaning against the wall.
Her eyes rose and met mine. “So… you were right. My boyfriend is a psycho drunk, and I don’t know where else to go.”
I nodded. “Right… you don’t have family or anything you can go to for this instead of some stranger you met in a bar?”
“No, my family live in another state. I moved here with Hugo a couple of weeks ago.”
She seemed to shrink as she spoke, each moment causing her to diminish in confidence and size.
“No friends?”
“No.”
Jesus christ, this girl…
I was about to open my mouth to speak when she blurted out, “Can I stay here? Just for tonight, I won’t be a bother. I’ll be gone in the morning when I can catch the bus back to my parent’s.”
I stayed silent for a moment, regarding her. I wouldn’t usually let random people into my house to stay, let alone some random girl I protected in a bar one time, but there was something strange about this girl. I felt protective of her, like I owed her something. I looked after her at the bar, and it was now on me to make sure she was okay, and that she behaved herself.
I pinched my fingers between my eyes, sighing. “Okay, fine. You can stay.”
She jumped up, rushing towards me and pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you!” she said happily.
When she pulled away, her face was flushed that deep red again, and she had a little smile on her face. I cleared my throat awkwardly, trying to ignore the fact that her body pressed against mine felt… good.
“Yeah, well, anyway,” I cleared my throat again. “You can stay in my room. I’ll just sleep out here.”
She nodded, evidently pleased with the arrangement. “I’m Violet.”
“Joel,” I answered.
Pulling out my phone, I sent a quick text to Sasha:
Wont make it. Somethings come up. Text you tomorrow.
My phone buzzed a moment later with a response:
asshole! Hope ur allg
“You hungry?” I asked after a moment, unsure of what to do now.
Violet shook her head, her auburn hair falling out of the bun it was precariously tied in. She had taken off her coat now and had sat it next to her on the sofa. She wore a t-shirt tucked into her jeans of some obscure band I hadn’t heard of.
“I’ll have a drink if you’ve got one,” Violet said, her smile slightly shy.
After fixing us drinks — me, a whiskey, and her a vodka orange juice — we sat down on opposite couches. She folded her legs underneath her and sipped her drink awkwardly.
“You wanna tell me what happened with your boyfriend?”
“Ex-boyfriend,” she answered quickly. “And not really. But I think I owe you that much, considering you’re letting me stay in your house.”
“I’d say that’s right,” I answered.
“When we got home from the bar last week, he went pretty crazy. Talking about how I was fucking other people. How I was cheating on him with you.” She blushed at this comment. “I told him it wasn’t true, obviously, but he wasn’t having it. Then he just kept drinking every night and becoming obsessed with the idea I was cheating on him. When he smashed my laptop, saying I was messaging men online, I knew I needed to leave.”
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