The full story of me and Mr. Davis - Sex Stories

The full story of me and Mr. Davis

... hours’ work each day, per our agreement, but I was there full-time anyway. Mr. Davis was single, and never married. He was much too timid to date a woman. He had just learned to live within the walls of his bookstore and within the pages of many of those books. He knew passages verbatim from many of the classic novels that he sold and could be a charming conversationalist, unless it was a woman client who came into the store. He froze up and could not talk to a woman.

Mr. Davis and I became friends, as he began to trust me. I would run errands, even go to the bank or post office for him. He would give me money for sandwiches while I ran his errands, and we would eat together. By this time, I had been working for Mr. Davis for several weeks. I felt I could confide in him and told him a cleaned-up version of my life’s story. He knew that I was currently living in an extra room of a friend, but I could not stay there much longer. He also knew why I sometimes came to work wearing wet clothes because I admitted to him that I had washed them in the sink of the local gas station. One evening he suggested I stay for dinner. His apartment was upstairs, and he planned to roast a chicken. It was too much food for just him, and he thought I would like a home cooked meal. It was during that dinner that I got to really know Mr. Davis. He was a gentle man who was just too quiet and humble to ever approach a woman. I noticed his hesitance on more than one occasion when a female customer ...

... came in and ask for a specific book, or gift recommendations. He would freeze up and not be able to say much to her, and it cost him customers and sales. He needed to be dragged out of his shell and I was just the girl to do it. Mr. Davis became my mission. I was going to turn him into a confident man. At the end of that evening, I gave Mr. Davis a big hug and told him he meant a lot to me.

Chapter three – my own place

One day he gave me the task of clearing out an unused storage area on the second floor of the bookstore, which adjoined his apartment. The storage room was full of outdated magazines, old publisher promotional posters, and decades of worthless junk. I jumped at the task and by the end of the day had disposed of all the trash and moved the old junk out of the room. I was exhausted from all the lifting and hauling. He told me “Before you go home, you can use my bathroom to get cleaned up. You don’t need to go to a gas station anymore”. At that moment, I saw something in his face that changed everything.

The next day he said we were going to close the bookstore early. He and I had a joint errand to run. I wondered what he had in mind when we pulled up to the resale store which was down the street from the bookstore. He said he wanted to convert that storage area I had cleaned up into a spare bedroom. And he wanted me to stay there. I was shocked. No one had ever offered anything so thoughtful to me without some ulterior motive. We found a single bed and ...