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This release is really back to my roots, romance and erotica, ships passing in the night. I love the feel of the story, the atmosphere is perfect. I hope you like reading it as much as I did writing it. ENJOY!

HI, MY NAME IS MARYANNE, this story is my attempt at releasing a few cobwebs, I have never told anyone about this event, not even my, now, husband. I’ll start with a little bit about myself……

I’m a 37 year old married woman, although I was not married at the time this story took place. I’ve been married for just a little over 3 months, and the event I’m about to write about, took place, just over a year ago. I’m 5’5″, with long dark brown hair, lightly permed, with the full length cascading down over my shoulders, and wrapping neatly in toward my body. I’m of a nice build, not skinny, and also not overweight, what I would like to call nicely rounded. 34C-30-32 for all those with an eye for detail.

I’m straight, although the story you are about to read is about me and another woman, it was very much a one off event, and even though I did enjoy it, I prefer men. I can remember it as if it was only moments ago, I was sitting quietly on the couch, watching TV, when the door bell sounded. It had been a very long week at work this week, and to be honest I was all for letting it ring, I didn’t want company, and least of all, I didn’t want to have to move from my comfortable position. But then the Ringing got more intense, which brought a tone of panic to the room, I started to think what if it was serious? Maybe a relative was sick, or worse still, DEAD!

I jumped up, running for the door, my breath now rapid, and my mind swimming in a pool of fear and worry. I had forgotten that all I was wearing was my nightie, which although long, down to my calves, it was rather flimsy, and almost transparent. I didn’t even take time to look through the eyepiece on the door, and thinking back on it now, I acted rather stupid, if there had been a guy at the door, he would have seen a little more than he’d bargained for.

Margo?!! I thought, as I opened the door, seeing her standing there. How the hell did she know where I live? And what is she doing here, at this time of the night? My mind asked.

“I’m s-s-sorry Mare”, came her apologetic sobs.

I was speechless, I couldn’t think of anything to say, my mind was too busy trying to work out what had happened, here was Margo, whom I ‘d only known about 3 weeks, after taking her on in my office, to do some light office work. She had walked into the office only 3 weeks ago, for the interview, and had told me all the things I wanted to hear, at 21 with experience in computers and typing, she was perfect for the job.

Since then I ‘d got to know that Margo was a very pleasant girl, well spoken, neatly turned out, and just recently I had noticed she was also very witty, after seeing her reduce the office to a room of giggling gals.

At 5’2″, and slim, she was a petite girl, and her mid-length brown hair, sparkling green eyes and very warm smile were more than enough needed, to catch the attention of every guy who entered the office.

“Margo?!!” I finally heard myself say. “What’s wrong hon? you look distressed!”, I said, after seeing the horror behind her eyes, they were no longer sparkling prettily, they were bloodshot, tear filled, and her pupils were dilated, almost swallowing up the green surrounding.

“I’m s-sorry”, she repeated, still sobbing, “I’m sorry for disturbing you at this hour, I had nowhere else I could go”, she finally managed, between bouts of tears.

This I could understand, she’d only moved to the city 4 weeks before this night, after living over 200 miles away, in a little town called Angola, all her life. I had learned, how she grew up there, and only moved away with her boyfriend, Peter, as her parents were not keen on him, which she had assured me was due to him not being able to find work.

“It’s ok, sweetie”, I reassured her, with my tones now, gentle and caring. “Come on in out of the cold”, I said, taking her hand, and leading her into the living room, closing the front door behind her.

“I’m really sorry, I…” she started.

“It’s okay, now forget about being sorry, and tell me what happened”, I interrupted, my tone still caring, but now with a hint of intrigue.

I showed her to the couch, where she sat down, telling her to gather her thoughts, as I went to make us some tea, to calm her nerves. When I returned, she was still sobbing, her face no longer the pretty picture I was used to seeing about the office all day long, and instead I was now faced with a girl who was afraid, worried, and god knows what else. Handing her a mug of hot tea, I placed a pack of McVities Dark Chocolate Digestives on the coffee table in front of her, and then my own mug beside them.

I always found that chocolate was up to any occasion, and almost always enough to change a frown into a smile, it was not going to work this time, I could tell that, but every little bit helps, as my mother used to say.

I sat next to her, then in a mother’s tones, I asked, “now sweetie, tell me what happened, I can’t help if I don’t know what went on”.

I’d never been a mother, but I ‘d always believed everyone had maternal instincts, whether they got to use them or not, and I was getting to use them now.

“My boyfriend….”, she began, then after a sip of tea, she continued.. “He.. He..”.

She went on to tell me exactly why she was here, her boyfriend, Peter, who, she now told me, was abusive, both mentally and physically, had accused her of sleeping around, of which she assured me she hadn’t. He had then lost his temper, which was apparently a regular occurrence, and had started to yell and shout at her, but this time he had really lost it, and as she tried to calm him down, and make him see reason, she noticed he had returned from the kitchen with a rather large carving Knife.

“When I saw the knife, I started to scream, and ran for the door”, she had informed me.

“He was screaming, I’ve never heard him so mad before, just screaming, screaming out, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU BITCH!!!”, she went on to explain.

She had managed to get out, and headed for the local taxi depot, which she knew would still have people around it, even at this late hour. And after realizing in her hurry to leave, she had not taken her purse, and only had loose change in her dress pocket, which amounted to just over $10.00. That rule out Uber, so a taxi it was.

Then she had thought of how I had once mentioned I lived in University Rd. Which was within her financial reaches. After paying the taxi driver, she had then knocked on doors, until she found someone who knew where I lived, leading to where she was now. She didn’t have my phone home or cell phone number, so she was unable to call first.

When she’d finished telling me, she was sobbing heavier, almost speaking in frantic tones nearing the end, I reached out my hand taking hers, holding it gently, and using my thumb to delicately stroke the back of her hand, as I was looking into her tear-filled eyes, and spoke to her in firm tones, “He won’t find you here, we’ll call the cops, and you can stay here, as long as you want, he’ll pay for this, you can be sure of that”.

“No, Please. NO POLICE!!” she screamed, with a new terror in her voice.

“Honey, you’ll have to get them involved, he was going to kill you”, I heard myself reply.

“Please, you have to promise me, NO POLICE, they can’t do anything, and it would only make him madder”, she pleaded, with begging eyes.

“Okay, I’ll not call them, but I still think you should, and I hope you change your mind.” I said, my voice returning to comforting whispers.

For the first time that night, she showed the merest shadows of a smile, which although not entirely heartwarming, it was a lot better than distraught, desperate sobs.

I returned her smile, if you could call it that, and held her hand tighter. At that moment I moved my gaze back from her face, and noticed her hair was soaking wet, then as my gaze moved further, I noticed that in fact she was soaking wet all over, I hadn’t noticed it was raining outside, and with her going from door to door looking for me, she must have been caught right in the middle of it.

She was only wearing a light summer’s dress, with a mid-length neck line, and a hem line which reached down just above her knees, with light spaghetti straps over her shoulders. And a pair of Cherry red Dr. Martin boots, which threw me back for a second, I ‘d only ever seen her conservatively dressed, although doc martins were hardly appropriate for an office, I giggled to myself inwardly at this thought.

Her skin was red, and I could now see her shivering, which I had mistaken earlier as part of her sobbing.

“Sweetie, your soaking right through, I’m sorry, I never even noticed, now let’s get you a nice hot bath, I ‘ll get you something to wear, and you’ll be feeling better in no time”, I assured her, as I jumped up, still holding her hand in mine, leading her to stand, and taking her to the bathroom door.