“She always walked to work.

With her dress flats in her large bag and a good pair of walking shoes.

Normally, she'd take the tram on days like today.

She doesn't any more.

Now she puts rubber booties over her sneakers and walks to work.

Besides, the tram was always overcrowded on rainy days.

Once, too many times, a stranger had groped her backside.

She never knew who exactly but someone always seemed to have a slimy smile.

The last straw was when she turned around one day.

Behind her, grinning, was a woman.

Now she always walks to work.”

'Meredith'

As always, today she had walked to work.

On a crystal clear day such as this, warm and sunny, the hills of San Francisco never looked so beautiful.

Without a cloud in the sky there was no need for rubber overshoes or an umbrella in fact, all she had was her dress flats in her large, cotton shoulder bag. She didn't even need a jacket over her thin summer, bright yellow, knee length cotton dress. Her large, oversized plastic sunglasses kept the glare from dazzling her deep brown eyes and her large, floppy brimmed straw hat prevented the hot sun from burning her head.

Despite the oversized accessories, she was herself quite petite, just five feet and two inches in her sneakers and slightly built. She was slim and although her breasts were small they were perfectly formed with nipples that were quite excitable for the smallest of reasons.

She was never happier than when she walked in the warm, California sun with her long brown hair swinging from side to side as she skipped along the sidewalk like the girl in the Silverkrin advert.

But, that was this morning.

As her working day neared it's end the sky had clouded over and was ominously dark, the air becoming heavy and oppressive.

She had left on the dot of five and had only been walking about ten minutes when the heavens opened and the rain began to fall so heavily that in no time at all the brim of her hat was sagging and her thin dress was so wet that it didn't look yellow any more as it clung to her flesh.

She didn't mind the rain, she was after all only twenty-two, but she still had another thirty minutes at least and her shoulder bag was not waterproof.

Her smile was gone as she squelched along the soaking wet road and when she looked down for a moment she wished with all her heart that she had not chosen that day to leave her bra at home.

The fabric was clinging to her body like a wet glove and her excitable pink nipples were almost crying out, 'look at us!'

Another five minutes walking along Powell Street brought her to an intersection with Washington Street and as she waited patiently for the 'Don't Walk' light to change a street-car squealed around the corner. For a very short moment she considered running to jump aboard but the memories of her previous experiences and the fact that it was bursting at the seams with passengers kept her glued to the sidewalk.

The light changed and she followed all the other dejected pedestrians across the wide road.

The tram had stopped to allow an exchange of passengers and as she walked past she didn't dare look at it, so conscious was she of her predicament. The last thing thing she needed was to catch the eye of some leering man who was probably ogling her as she passed. She didn't feel that she could have felt worse if she had been naked.

As the tram picked up its cable and moved away up the hill ahead of her she became aware that the rain was no longer falling on her even though the torrent had not eased.

She looked up.

“You looked so unhappy,” a friendly voice beside her said. “I hope you don't mind my intrusion.”

The voice belonged to a very attractive, elegant, middle-aged woman with flame-red hair who was holding a large golfing umbrella over them.

The girl smiled glad, at least for a moment to be free of this incessant downpour.

“Do you have far to go?”

“No, I...” the girl paused, something inside telling her that there was no need to pretend. “Well, yes, I suppose I do really. A little way yet.”

The woman smiled.

“I have an apartment just over the road. Why not come over and dry out, maybe give the rain a chance to ease and, if it doesn't then you can borrow my umbrella. How does that sound?”

The girl tried to protest, pointing up the hill towards her distant home but her nipples were yelling out at her her as they strained against the thin, opaque fabric, their excitement clearly visible.

Since the woman had not once taken her gaze from the girls face she relented.

“Thank you,” she replied. “That would be nice.”

Without another word spoken between them they walked back to the intersection and crossed over. A few more steps up the other side and finally through the glass door of the apartment building where the woman turned and shook the surplus water off her umbrella before allowing the door to close.

It wasn't a smart lobby, just a standard, everyday kind of entrance and on the elevator door was a notice, 'Out of Service'.

“Damn it, not again,” the woman cursed gently. “It's a good thing I don't live on the top floor.”

The girl smiled and waited whilst the elegant woman opened her mailbox which was in the centre of a group of identical boxes set into the wall behind the entrance door.

She wasn't sure why but the girl began to shiver. Perhaps it was because she had come out of the warm rain and her wet dress was cooling or for some other, inexplicable reason but the woman noticed.

“Oh, My Dear, look at you. We had better get you dried off before you catch a chill.” She pointed up the nearby stairwell. “Second floor.”

As the girl climbed the stairs her dress clung to her like a second skin and her sneakers squelched with each step. She was conscious of the woman following her and she knew that she could see every curve of her body and yet, somehow, she felt at ease and she smiled to herself.

Every step she took left a trail of water droplets surrounding the imprint of the sole of her shoes and whilst she waited for the woman to find her key, a small puddle formed on the floor.

The apartment was nice. Spartan but nice. The door opened into a living room which was furnished with just one large sofa and a small TV. On the far side she could see a small kitchen diner and off to the right were two closed doors.

The woman smiled.

“It's small but I call it home,” she said.

“It's nice,” the girl replied through chattering teeth.

“Thank you but oh, look at you.”

The woman's eyes lingered on her shivering form and for the first time, at least that the girl had noticed, looked at her nipples which suddenly became more excited than ever.

Before she passed any further into the apartment, the girl removed her sneakers slipping them carefully off her dainty feet so not to leave wet shoe marks on the spotless floor but her short ankle socks with the yellow frills to match her dress were equally soaked so she took those off too and entered barefoot.

Behind her the woman watched the wet foot prints of her delicate feet appear on the polished wooden floor for just a couple of steps before they faded and smiled.

“There are some towels in the closet in the bathroom,” she pointed to the furthest closed door and paused for a moment. “If you wish you can take shower... to warm yourself... if you want to...”

The girl hesitated, unsure. She suddenly realised that she was with someone she didn't know, alone with her in her apartment and... “Yeah, right,” she thought to herself, “You're not in some Hollywood B-movie. Stop being so paranoid!”

“If you are sure you don't mind...”

“Not at all,” the woman replied as she took the girl's shoes and hat. “Take your time, relax. I'll put some coffee on.”

Above the wash basin was a large mirror and the girl studied herself for a minute then shook her head. She looked awful! Her long, chestnut hair was straggly and hung in strands clumped together and her mascara had run down her face leaving long black streaks on her cheeks as though she had been crying. No wonder this kind lady had taken pity on her, she thought.

Reaching behind her she pinched the zipper at the back of her sodden dress and pulled but it wouldn't budge. It was so wet that she couldn't grip it securely enough to stop it bending.

She stepped back into the living room.

“I'm sorry, could you help me please?” she asked. “The zipper is stuck.”

The woman stepped behind her and with a gentle and tantalisingly slow tug pulled the closer fully down to the base of her spine exposing her entire back.

Was it accidental, her imagination perhaps or did she just feel the gentlest touch of the woman's fingertips on her lower back?

She turned her head and over her shoulder said,

“Thank you.”

“Welcome,” was the short reply.

Back in the bathroom she peeled the thin, wet fabric from her shoulders and allowed the dress to fall with a discernable 'plop' onto the tiled floor.

She paused as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties before peeling those to over her taut buttocks and stepped out of them.

From the kitchen she heard the woman call,

“Throw your stuff out. I'll put in front of the heater to dry.”

Opening the door just enough to get her arm through she did as she was bid and dropped her dress and panties onto the floor just beyond the door and watched, unnoticed through the small gap as the woman picked them up and turned away.

She didn't know why, maybe it was the surreal situation she found herself in but, as the hot water cascaded over her tight young body the girl was more excited than she had ever been in her life. Her nipples were as hard as little rocks and her breasts ached so much that she couldn't help but squeeze them.

She turned her face up towards the large silver shower-head letting the hot water wash over her face and cascade down through her hair which hung to her bottom.

In a moment of abandonment her hand slithered down her flat, firm stomach and her fingers disappeared into the nest of tight brown curls.

She pressed her straining nub, rotated around, teased it all the more, it's sensitive head crying out for release.

She allowed just one finger to slip inside her feeling the slippery moisture and the intense heat that her excitement was generating.

Back and forth, her fingers separating the swollen petals of her labia whilst the hot water ran over her exposed clitoris.

Leaning forwards with her left hand against the warm tiles of the wall, her belly tensed and her back arched. She bit her lower lip as her orgasm built deep inside her until she could take no more and the intense flame of her excitement exploded. She clenched her teeth trying to hold back the audible evidence of her impending release but in her intensely excited condition it was impossible, she mewed aloud and quickly covered her mouth as her muscles twitched uncontrollably as her knees buckled and then straightened once, twice.

“You Okay in there, Honey?”

The woman's voice from beyond the door.

Taking a deep breathe in an effort to recover quickly the girl called back.

“Erm, yes, thank you. I'll be out in a minute.”

“No rush, Honey. I just thought I heard you call out, is all.”

The girl turned the faucet until the flow was reduced to just an occasional drip and stepped out onto the soft square mat. She opened the door of the small closet in the wall opposite to find an empty shelf. No towels!

“There's no towel here,” she called out tentatively.

“Oh Lord, I'm sorry, I had forgotten!” the woman called back. “I washed them and haven't put them back yet! Hang on, I'll get you a couple.”

Seconds later she knocked on the door and passed them through to the girl who took them gratefully.

They weren't very large towels but since she also wasn't very large, the larger of the two towels covered her, providing she kept a firm grip on the overlap.

“Do you have a robe?” she called out.

“Oh Honey, no I don't. That is actually in the washing machine machine. Doesn't the towel cover you?”

The girl sighed and stepped out into the living room.

The flame haired woman looked at her and smiled.

“I'm sorry, Honey, I just wasn't expecting company today.”

“No, please don't apologise,” the girl implored her. “You have been too kind as it is and I am very grateful. There is one thing I would ask though, if it's not too much trouble.”

“Sure, ask away.”

“Would you pass my hair brush please, it gets so knotted if I leave it. There's a brush in my bag.”

The woman did as she was asked and then returned to the kitchen to pour coffee.

“How do you like it?” she called.

“Black, no sugar please,” the girl called back and then, under her breath. “Damn it!”

The hairbrush was caught in a tangle and she couldn't free it.

She tugged as hard as she could but with only one free hand she just couldn't manage to free it.

She tried to let go of the towel and hold it with her elbow but as soon as her grip loosened she could feel it begin to slip.

“Here, let me help you.”

The woman had placed the two mugs on the small table and in an instant was behind her, taking the brush along with a handful of hair. She tugged gently but firmly and soon the the girl was tangle free.

The woman continued to brush.

“You have gorgeous hair,” she said.

The girl blushed and she felt her nipples harden against the coarse towelling.

“Thank you, so do you.”

“You think so?” the woman seemed surprised.

“Sure I do,” she affirmed. “It suits you, so thick and long and with such blue eyes. I think red hair is beautiful.”

Now it was the woman's turn to blush.

“No one has said anything so nice to me for a very long time.”

The girl was surprised.

“Really?” she asked. “Why?”

The woman shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe I am not really so...”

“But you are. Look at you. Tall, elegant, a fabulous figure. Why wouldn't anyone think you are gorgeous?”

“My husband never said I was. Not since we were married, anyways.”

The girl looked around. There was no sign of anything masculine in the apartment. No after-shave in the bathroom and only one toothbrush.

The woman saw her looking.

“We got divorced six months ago,” she said sadly. “He took everything. This was all I could afford. I guess it was a blessing that we didn't have children.”

The girl was shocked. How could anyone be so cruel to such a kind, attractive woman!

She reached forwards to touch the woman's arm, to offer her some sort of empathy, completely forgetting for a moment about the towel and the moment she let go it fell open around her.

She grabbed at it but it was too late, she was exposed!

In her haste to re-cover herself she inadvertently exposed even more and when she was half-way decent she stopped. The woman was sitting perfectly still, staring at her nakedness with a glazed look in her eyes.

“I, I'm sorry,” the girl stammered with embarrassment. “I didn't mean to...”

The woman blinked and looked away.

“No, no. It is me that should apologise for staring at you. You are... are... beautiful. So perfect. You have no need to apologise.”

“But, but how can I be? I am a shortass. Five feet two with tiny breasts and no waist. How is that perfect?”

The girl stood up to emphasise the point, leaving the towel on the sofa and turned first one way and then the other.

The woman stared once again at her naked form, her eyes fixing on every point of her sweet body and swallowed.

Getting to her feet she went over to the girl who's excitable nipples were now showing just how unmistakably excited they actually were.

As she bent forwards the girl looked up to her and their lips met gently. Such a kiss the girl had never experienced before and although little more than a touch of lips, the tingle that ran through her made her gasp.

“Oh gosh! What am I thinking! I'm so sorry!”

The woman turned away quickly to hide her embarrassment but the girl grabbed her arm and pulled her back and down then pressed her lips hard against hers.

This time the connection was made and they kissed with a passion that the woman had not experienced in many years.

Dropping to her knees the woman wrapped her arms around the girl and held her tightly as their tongues entwined and slowly she slid her had downwards and cupped the girls firm buttock, giving it a loving squeeze.

The girl smiled inwardly and pressed herself tighter against the woman, enjoying the touch, feeling the moisture bubbling inside of her. She remembered the last time she had been on the tram. She had known all along that this was the woman who had grabbed her ass that day.

Inspired and encouraged by the flash fiction of Meredith. For you, James.