Chapter Seven XHamster Profil for Love2Bused
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Didn't I Used To Be ... free porn video
Didn't I Used To Be ...
By
ABC de F
Chapter One
It was still afternoon, bright and cloudless, when he pulled into the
apartment complex parking lot. His reserved spot was directly in front of
his door, not that it mattered much to him; he was never in a hurry.
The drive home had only taken five hours but he felt mentally groggy and
physically numb, as if he'd been sitting behind the wheel for twice as
long. There was some nice scenery between Pittsburgh and home, but it all
tended to blend together when you traveled on one of the characterless
interstates. The entire trip was quickly turning into a fuzzy memory.
He pulled his suitcase and computer case from the backseat and used the
handle and wheels to get the large piece to his front door.
Though they called him a computer geek he really wasn't. He taken some
classes after high school and read a lot and tinkered a lot, but he was
no code jockey. What he could do is set up a LAN at a Mom-and-Pop
business, and fix simple operating system and software program glitches.
That was enough to have a small business of his own, working out of his
apartment.
Most people, he'd found, only knew how to use their computers to do the
things they did daily - simple bookkeeping, email, maybe basic inventory,
and the like. If caches got full, if they attached a new printer to an
old computer, if they added an employee and needed an additional
workstation, or had a software glitch they were completely at sea.
Big companies had their own IT people, but for people working out of
their homes or in very small businesses they called Sammy.
It was a solitary occupation - he didn't have friends, really, but was
friendly with everyone at the office of every customer.
As soon as he entered the apartment he felt something was wrong. He stood
in the doorway and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place, but then
he hadn't memorized where everything had been. It just felt wrong.
He propped his door open with the suitcase and quietly went down the
hall. Both bedroom doors were open and he carefully looked inside each
room. The spare bedroom was an office, and his desktop and two laptops
were where he'd left them. His actual bedroom also looked undisturbed.
But as empty as the rooms were he still had a creepy feeling that someone
had been inside his place.
He brought the suitcase and computer case into the bedroom and put them
on the bed. He tossed the dirty clothes into the laundry tubs he kept in
the walk-in closet, emptied the rest of the stuff on the bed, and put the
suitcases back on the top shelf.
He checked his computers. Both had invisible keystroke recording
software, and it was set to On, just as he'd left it. Neither showed any
activity from the time he'd left until now.
He found panties, bras, stockings, high heels and three dresses in his
chest of drawers.
Irrationally, he turned around and looked behind him.
He listened, but there was no noise in the apartment.
He looked under the bed.
"What the hell?" he said, out loud.
He wandered the apartment, now examining everything very closely, looking
for anything just slightly out of place. He didn't find anything.
Allissa was the neighbor he knew best. A black woman across the hall who
was probably sixty or more, she was friendly and kept her eyes on things
around the apartment complex.
"Welcome back, Sammy," she said when she opened the door to his knock.
"Thanks," he said. "Everything okay?"
"It certainly is," she said. "Anything wrong, I'd know it. Not much gets
past these old eyes," she said with a laugh. "Anything I should know
about?"
"No, nothing at all," Sammy said. "Uh, did you happen to see anyone in my
apartment while I was gone?"
"Nooooo," Allissa said. "Just Sandy." A look of concern crossed her face.
"That was all right, wasn't it? She had your key, and a note from you,
and everything. Knew where you'd be and when you'd be back. She said she
was apartment sitting. Is that right?"
Sammy was disturbed, but he didn't want to alarm the lady so he said,
"That was fine. No problems, then?"
"None at all, Sammy," Allissa said. "She was nice as can be, always
smiling. Pretty little thing. You never told me you had such a pretty
girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend," Sammy said.
"Well maybe you ought to look into that," she said with a grin.
Sammy nodded. "Thanks, Allissa."
"Glad to have you back," the woman said.
It irritated Sammy that he hadn't noticed details when he'd left. Had he
left the magazines exactly where they were now? Was the coffee cup in the
sink in exactly the same place? He gave up trying to recall and went back
to his chest of drawers.
His socks, underwear and the other clothes that had been in the chest
turned out to be buried under jeans and a shirt in one of the plastic
tubs in his closet. That's how whoever it was had made room for the
girl's clothes.
But who? And why? What did they want? How had they gotten in?
He thought briefly about calling the police but realized he had nothing
concrete to tell them. Allissa would tell them about the mystery girl but
where was the evidence of a crime?
He braced the apartment door that night and decided to have the locks
changed in the morning, after tossing the girl's clothes in the dumpster.
He'd have to give new keys to the complex office, but decided to hold off
on that for as long as he could. No one had gotten a copy of his key from
him, so the office must have been the source.
He wrestled with the few facts he had but didn't come up with any
sensible answer. Nothing was missing, and the laptops especially were
both expensive and easy to walk away with. And why leave the clothes?
None of it seemed to make sense, and by late evening he gave up thinking
about it. Part of that was because he wasn't feeling well, symptoms of a
cold or flu were noticeable: tiredness, a small headache, a touch of
dizziness. He slept fitfully.
Chapter Two
Many of his customers had small shops or home businesses in the
neighborhood, so when he walked into The Shamrock, his local watering
hole, he knew people and people knew him.
Two guys, Junior and Bret Wallace, sons of a middle-aged couple that
owned a flower store, invited him to join them at a table.
"Haven't seen you around much lately," the older son said.
"I've been busy," Sammy said. "I got a one week contract in Pittsburgh to
help install a new office. I just got back yesterday."
"How'd that go?"
Sammy had to think about it and realized that the trip was a fuzzy memory
already. "Good," he said, a bit off stride. How could he not remember
details of a whole week out of town? All he could conjure up was a vague
impression.
"Excellent," the younger brother said. "We had to call your office Monday
and Sandy answered. She came over and fixed the machine; no problem."
"Sandy?" Sammy said, bolting upright. He had believed Allissa, but to
find out that the invader had passed herself off as his assistant was
startling. That took a lot of balls. And what was the point? If she
wanted to get into his customers' systems and hack their accounts for
money why had she been so open about her presence? She could have just
copied his hard drives; they had a lot of information from a lot more
customers.
Bret laughed. "Don't tell you forgot her already? That's one lady that's
hard to forget." His older brother smiled and nodded.
Sammy did the same, not wanting to look like an idiot. But who the hell
was Sandy and had they really gotten it right that someone had answered
his phone? His phone in his apartment?
"We went out a couple times last week," the younger one said. "But she
hasn't answered the phone in the last two days." There was a question
mark in the statement.
"No," Sammy said.
"She didn't say anything about just being a temp," the guy prodded.
"Probably hoping for full time," Sammy said.
"Have you got her number? She told me I could reach her at your number,
but if she's not going to be there anymore ..."
Sammy thought quickly, "I probably have it back at the apartment. Listen,
guys, I hate to cut this short but I've got to get home and do something
I just remembered."
"Sure, man, go do your thing," the older brother said.
"We'll get the beer."
Sammy hurried to his car.
Chapter Three
Over the next month the problem of the mysterious Sandy almost
disappeared. Bret had cornered him the next time he was in The Shamrock,
but Sammy told him he couldn't find Sandy's telephone number.
"Oh, man, that's too bad. She was really hot," Bret said. "Ooops. I'm
sorry. No offense, man."
"None taken," Sammy said. "Just a temp. I don't even know her."
"Oh. Well, man, I'd love to tag up with her again. Very talented lips, if
you know what I mean."
Sammy made a fraternity-of-guys expression. "Good, huh?"
"Excellent," Bret said. "She went after it like it was her favorite thing
in the whole world. Best I ever had."
"Did she say what her last name was?"
"You don't know her last name? Didn't the temp agency tell you?"
"I made the check out to them," Sammy said, trying to find a plausible
explanation. "I'm sure I knew it, but I don't remember it."
"Well call them, man," Bret said.
"I did," Sammy said, feeling as if the conversation was starting to get
dangerously convoluted, "but she took her name off their list. No longer
available. She must have gotten a permanent job somewhere."
"Pretty crappy record keeping," Bret said. "Damn, I hate to let that one
get away."
"Whadda gonna do." Sammy shrugged.
After that contact nothing came up to remind Sammy of Sandy, and he
settled back into his routine.
Chapter Four
His regular customers worked business hours, but some of the businesses
were retailers so he would occasionally get calls at eight or nine at
night and on Saturdays. Days of the week didn't meant much to him but he
still hated Monday mornings.
He hit the alarm and rolled out of bed, trudging blindly to the bathroom.
Even throwing water on his face didn't clear his head. Must be a
hangover, he thought as he headed to the kitchen to make coffee.
He stopped. Hangover? No. He tried to remember how much he'd had to drink
and couldn't. He didn't remember anything. Where had he been? He didn't
know. What about Saturday night? He shook his head in confusion. Where
the hell had he been Saturday night? Nothing. He drew a complete blank.
Friday night? Zero.
Drunks had lost weekends but he wasn't a big drinker.
So where had the weekend gone?
He thought hard over coffee and thought he remembered stopping at The
Shamrock, but wasn't even sure of that.
He sat on the couch in his underwear, sipping a second cup of coffee,
sure his brain would start working sooner or later.
He got a call, a referral, from a new gift shop in the neighborhood.
Sluggish computer. Could it be a virus? He promised to be there in forty
minutes.
After a quick shower he went to his dresser to get underwear and socks.
Instead, he found three bras, four pair of panties, two sets of high
heels, and three dresses.
"Damn it!" he yelped. "Damn it, damn it! What the fuck is going on!"
He gathered everything and made a pile on the bed.
He was furious, and paced the bedroom floor, staring at the pile.
He had a thought and raced to his door, but both the front and back doors
were locked solid, security chains in place.
"It's not possible," he said out loud.
He returned to the bedroom, half expecting to see that the pile of
clothes had magically disappeared. It hadn't.
He thought he knew where his underwear and socks would be and wasn't
surprised to again find them in the clothes tub under a pair of dirty
jeans and a shirt. It was just a quirky detail but it made him madder.
His stuff was being shoved aside like it, like he, wasn't as important as
the bras and panties in his chest of drawers. He was being dissed by
someone who could
walk through locked doors.Or windows.
He almost slapped himself for not having thought of the intruder getting
into his apartment through the windows.
It was very disappointing to find them all snugly closed and locked.
He finished dressing, gathered his laptop and case and went to the door.
"Why bother?" he said, his hand on the knob, but he locked it anyway.
There was no virus; the operating system just needed some routine
maintenance, and he was back home in an hour.
During the next week he stayed at home every minute he wasn't working.
He'd decided to keep the girl's clothing this time, stuffing it back into
the drawers. He checked it every day and it was always there.
At the end of the week he threw it away. He got a phone call and he made
a plan.
The phone call was from someone named Cullen Wray who said he'd worked
with him in Pittsburgh on the week long installation and had another job
lined up, this time in tiny Elmira. Sammy almost turned him down. First,
because he couldn't remember anything about the Pittsburgh job, and
second because he couldn't remember Cullen Wray. But the money was good,
and on the spot he thought of a way to deal with the elusive Sandy.
After he hung up he called Zach Mycroft, the only guy that he could
reasonably refer to as a friend, and asked him to apartment sit for a
week. He knew that Zach had moved back in with his parents after he'd
lost his job and would probably be willing and able to get back to solo
life for a week. He was.
Sammy threw the girl's clothes in the dumpster and left the next morning.
Chapter Five
It was a tough week and outside of the work he was pretty brain dead. But
the fat paycheck made it all worthwhile. For the first time in his life
he nodded off while driving, jerking awake as soon as his chin hit his
chest. It had just been for a second and he hadn't even left his lane,
but it scared the crap out of him. He pulled over at the next rest area
and walked around, getting the blood circulating and making sure he was
totally alert before getting back behind the wheel.
When he got to his apartment he knocked and called out before using his
key and opening the door. Zach was sitting on the couch, a huge grin on
his face.
"You son of a gun," Zach said.
"What?" Sammy said, putting down his luggage and looking around.
"What?" Zach mimicked. "You are something, buddy."
Sammy knew what had happened. The plan hadn't worked. She'd been there.
"Sandy was here?" he asked.
"Ooooh, was she here? Yeah, she was definitely here," Zach said. "She
says there's nothing between you two. That right?"
If he was going to get information out of him he had to go along. "Yeah,
just a temp. I hardly met her."
"Your loss, let me tell ya," Zach said. "She is one hot lady. Good
looking. Funny. She's got it all."
"So Bret says," Sammy said.
"She told me about him," Zach said. "Just a casual thing, from what she
said. It wasn't so casual with us, buddy, I can tell you that."
"She just showed up?"
"As if you didn't know," Zach said, his grin back. "She said she was
supposed to stay here, that she'd stayed here before because it was where
you work out of. I told her you'd asked me to stay here and apartment sit
for the week. Damn if she didn't look me up and down and tell me it was
no problem."
"What did she look like?"
"I thought you said you saw her," Zach said.
"Someone I assumed was her. At the temp office. We were never
introduced."
"And you just gave her your key and she moved in?"
"They're bonded and everything," Sammy said. "She came highly
recommended."
"Yeah, I'll bet she did," Zach said.
"So what'd she look like?"
"Cute as hell. Maybe twenty, twenty-one. About five-six, I guess. Long
legs, blonde hair, nice body."
Such a general description was useless. "And you two hit it off?"
"Like we'd known each other forever," Zach said.
"The first night I slept on the couch, but we slept together after that.
I hope you don't mind. I mean, your bed and all ..."
Sammy waved it off. "That was pretty fast work," he said.
"Well, I do okay with the ladies," Zach said. "But she's pretty special.
There were sparks between us the minute she walked in. Like I said, we
really hit it off."
"You must have if you spent every night in bed with her," Sammy said.
"Oh, yeah," Zach said. "Maybe I shouldn't talk about her, but just
between us guys she about wore me out. When it comes to the ol' huffin'
and puffin' she is something else. Twice a night with that lady, and it
was hot. Very hot. And she blew me every day and that was even better.
The lady really loves going down on it."
Zach seemed to drift away, lost in the wonder of it.
"Did she leave a card or anything?" Sammy asked.
"A card? You can get in touch with her at that place, can't you?"
"Sure. Of course," Sammy said. "Are you going to see her again."
"She going to call me," he said. "She lost her cell and has to get a new
one. She thinks she's going to go full time someplace. With you both
doing the same thing you'll probably run into her. Or when she calls me
maybe we'll double-date or something."
"Maybe," Sammy said.
"And hey, I probably shouldn't have told you about, you know, the sex
stuff and everything. Not if I'm going to keep seeing her, I mean. You
won't say anything, will you?"
"Of course not," Sammy said. "Just guy talk."
"Yeah," Zach said. "Just guy talk."
As soon as Zach left, Sammy went into his bedroom and checked the chest
of drawers. The top two drawers were filled with girl's clothing. The
third drawer held make-up and jewelry.
Chapter Six
The Shamrock was packed and Sammy spent a lot of time weaving through the
crowd before being sure that Bret, Junior and Zach weren't there. He did
run into Dylan Phillips, the new owner, who was circulating through the
crowd, making sure everyone was taken care of. Phillips welcomed him back
and asked about Sandy.
"You know her?" Sammy said.
"Just to speak to," Phillips said. "A beautiful young lady. I understand
she's doing some work for you?"
"A temp," Sammy said.
"Ah," Phillips said, nodding. "I wish I could get temps that looked like
that."
"You don't need to," Sammy said. "Since you took over this place attracts
more beautiful girls than I've ever seen here."
"It's the ferns," Phillips laughed. "Of course the good looking lads I
hired to tend bar don't hurt, either."
Sammy smiled. "Well, you're working some kind of magic."
"Speaking of tending, I'd better tend to my customers. Say hello to Sandy
for me if you see her again."
"I will," Sammy said. "Say, you know Bret and Junior don't you?"
"Surely I do," Phillips said. "Good boys."
"You seen them tonight?"
"They were in earlier. They didn't stay long, though. The older brother
said something about getting a job out of town, but I wasn't really
paying attention. I think he said Pittsburgh. Do you want me to tell them
you're looking for them if they come back in?"
"If you would," Sammy said. "How about Zach Mycroft?"
"Now him I don't know," Phillips said. "Is he a regular?"
"Not really," Sammy said. "I think he's been in a few times."
"I try to get to know all my regulars," Phillips said. "It looks like
we've struck out tonight. They must all be inhabiting a parallel universe
some where." He laughed and asked, "Anyone else you're looking for?"
"No, I guess not," Sammy said.
"If any of them show up, I'll tell them you want to talk to them."
"I appreciate it," Sammy said.
"Not a problem."
He stayed for an hour, had a couple drinks, and then returned to his
apartment. There was no telling what might happen when he wasn't there,
so he tried to stay home as much as possible.
He got Zach on the phone the next day. He hadn't seen Sandy, but he was
eager to get in touch with her.
Sammy asked him to call him if she showed up and he promised he would.
Chapter Seven
Sandy woke up feeling rested but groggy, as usual. The alarm went off as
she sat up and she smiled, clicking it off.
From the bed she could see into the walk-in closet. All Sammy's clothes
were still there. It was about time she did something about that, once
and for all.
After her shower she went through the chest of drawers. The selection was
skimpy and she decided that as long as she was going to clear out the
closet she might as well do the same with the drawers. But first she had
to do her mental exercise: Where had she been last night?
Nothing. It was frustrating to not remember something that should have
been clear in her mind. That started happening a few months ago and it
about drove her crazy at first. It wasn't so bad lately, but there were
still a lot of blank spots and that wasn't normal.
The Shamrock! That's right, she had stopped in at The Shamrock late in
the evening and danced with a couple guys and let them buy her a drink
each. And the owner had come over and said the elusive Sammy had been in
earlier looking for her. She would have liked to have met him, but it
really didn't matter anymore. Sammy was gone, so he was no longer a
concern.
She felt so good about her returning memory that she sang as she gathered
the guy's underwear from the bottom drawers and started packing the
clothes in the closet. United Way would take them; they were all in nice
condition. She used all the grocery bags from the kitchen and all the
pillow cases from the closet and still had clothes left, so she wrapped
them in a bed sheet.
There was a drop box a mile or so away, down by the mall.
The drive made her happy. It had been frustrating sharing an apartment
when she was just a temp, but now that she was full time that was over
and done.
Mission accomplished, she returned home.
In the short time she'd been gone she'd gotten two messages. The first
was from someone with a computer virus - but they always thought that and
it usually turned out to be something else. The other message was from
Zach asking Sammy if he'd seen Sandy. She smiled and decided to make him
wait before calling him back. First, she had a computer to fix. And now
that the apartment was completely free of guy stuff, she had one big
chore to take care of.
She had to go shopping.
The End
Not explicit, and some things left for you to imagine on your own.
Perhaps a bit ghostly or ephemeral. Does that make the story something
your Review would suggest others not bother reading? Or should they spend
the time?
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