The Reluctant Samaritan

Chuck dropped the last of the mattresses, and it hit the stone floor with a thud. Dust began to settle back down, as he stretched his back, sighing deeply. The room looked empty and vacant now, but Chuck knew it would be cramped all too soon. The walls were cold and naked, and the mismatched sheets and pillows were unlikely to make the place feel any more like a home for its residents.

'That it?' Chuck asked the young man next to him.

'Almost.'

The man, Thomas, adjusted his glasses, as he put down a cardboard crate. He was slim, though not particularly short. Still, next to Chuck he seemed tiny, bright and colourful, like everyone Chuck had met here.

Thomas opened the crate, revealing a collection of old, worn-looking toys, and the two of them distributed a whole range of teddy bears, action figures and dollies among the mattresses.

'All generously donated by the public,' Thomas said beaming.

Chuck grunted in acknowledgement.

'Great. Looks like we've got everything, and thank you so much,' Thomas said, ticking boxes on a clipboard.

'Let's see if the girls have finished down at the hall,' he continued, and led the way.

The men left the grey room for a grey corridor, then a grey stairway, Chuck's steps heavy and regular, Thomas literally skipping. The hall did have more colour to it. The smell of fresh paint greeted the new arrivals, as did a bouncy young woman, who threw her hands in the air as soon as she'd spotted Thomas.

'What do you guys think?'

She indicated a fairly large banner with the words 'Refugees Welcome' written on it, which hung above a battered looking table. Chuck glowered at the 'no h8's surrounding the primary message, but said nothing.

Chuck had seen the girl around, and remembered that she'd introduced herself as Hope. In the three weeks he'd worked here she'd changed her hair colour at least twice, and Chuck wasn't sure if he was familiar with the current shade of bright green.

'Great job,' said Thomas.

No one seemed to expect Chuck to offer an opinion, and he'd already stopped paying attention to the decorations. He'd noticed a new face. Hope followed his gaze to the other girl, who was sitting on a wooden bar stool, one of many of the random pieces of furniture that they'd manage to collect.

'Oh yeah, you haven't met yet, have you?'

The young woman rose in a surprisingly cumbersome manner, then extended a hand. Chuck shook it.

'My, you are big,' she said smiling.

'Nice to finally meet you. Estelle Flores.'

Chuck nodded. He knew that name. She was the one who'd organised this project.

'Chuck,' he said.

She waited for more, but Chuck remained silent.

'Well, Mr. Chuck. I've been told you do great work here. I'm not surprised now that I've seen you of course.'

She glanced meaningfully at Chuck's broad shoulders and bulging upper arms.

'Keep it up.'

Estelle looked very different from Hope and Thomas, in what Chuck considered to be a decidedly good way. For one thing, her clothing wasn't nearly as loud. She wore no piercings or tattoos as far as Chuck could see, and while she appeared friendly there seemed to be none of that incessant, bubbly restlessness about her.

They were almost done for the day. All that was left was to tidy up the hall. Chuck was tasked with sweeping the floors. He had little problem with mindless tasks nowadays, he liked to have his brain free, even when there wasn't much on his mind. Now and again he would turn to watch Estelle, who was putting up a paper garland in the shape of people holding hands.

Chuck thought her quite beautiful, and he rarely noticed these things. Like most people she was short from his point of view, and her skin was slightly lighter than Chuck's own, exactly what he would never call caramel. She had a fascinating face. Her nose was long and straight, and she wore a perpetual smile, which was distractingly crooked, made even more noticeable by her very full lips. The dark eyes were calm, but something glistened behind them. She seemed fit too, and only very slightly curvy. Yet even though her hands were nimble and her back straight, there was something clumsy about the way she walked.

Chuck was careful not to be caught staring. People, especially women, were sometimes afraid when they held his attention for any prolonged period of time. Luckily Estelle seemed not to have noticed or didn't care, as she hugged him goodbye for the day, as did Hope.

Chuck found that he was treading a little lighter on his way home. A passing cafe's smell of grease made him remember that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and he decided to try it out. He'd bought a newspaper on his way to work and not bothered opening it up yet, and he began to leaf through it as he waited for his meal, already sipping a cold beer.

The majority of the paper he barely skimmed. He had zero interest in finance, and politics had become a samey blur of interchangeable names and faces, bills and changes that amounted to very little indeed. He tended to like the sports section. He rarely absorbed much of what he read, but it was oddly comforting to read about this safe world of healthy competition, about great records and human triumph, and the indomitable will of the athletes. Not to mention that the interviews were a lot of fun, fun as only people who kicked balls and ran in circles for a living could make them.

Chuck was quite surprised that Estelle was on his mind still, and he made a mental note to wank over his memories of her tonight, before he began tucking into his burger. It was a good burger, the fried onion and bacon were a nice touch, he thought, and he'd gotten plenty of chips with it, enough to sate the appetite of someone as big as Chuck. He'd have to remember the place.

It had been a good wank. Relaxing, not too short, enough for the satisfied feeling to stick around long after he'd dried himself, and cleaned up. It was almost a shock when the memory lingered on still. Chuck saw in front of his mind's eye that hint of feminine curves, the soft lips curled upwards unevenly, clothing drenched in sweat and paint. He hadn't felt anything like this in a long time, and he decided against ignoring it.

Chuck wasn't in any hurry though, nor knew he exactly what he would hurry along. He wondered if people noticed that he behaved differently, small though the changes were. He'd begun to show initiative, and at times even talked to the others without being asked a question. When he had no task, he would find Estelle, and ask her if he could help. If anything they appreciated his newfound enthusiasm, as they were almost ready to receive their guests.

He was starting to notice that Estelle was quite invested in the whole project. Spending so much time in her presence even allowed Chuck to see the cracks in her facade at times. Preparations were going well enough, but from what he could gather the people coming would be far too many to accommodate. There were other small organisations with similar housing projects, and Estelle was apparently not one to turn away those seeking shelter, resulting in a few promises that Chuck doubted the decrepit, old building could quite fulfil.

It was on the day before the train's scheduled arrival that Chuck made a discovery. He was schlepping an enormous sack with provisions upstairs, flour and rice mostly as well as an assortment of tinned and canned goods. Just as he put down his load in the small room they used as a pantry, he could hear Estelles voice. It was muffled as though she was trying to keep it down, but laden with emotion, with frustration.

'Crap! No, no, no, not now! Ouch, darn it!'

In a strange rush Chuck opened the door to the sleeping quarters and barged in.

'You alright, Ms. Flores?'

They hadn't changed much, although Chuck had had to haul in twice again as many mattresses as had originally been planned.

Estelle gasped as he entered. She was sat on a mattress, and Chuck stared in astonishment realising that she was crying.

She glared at him, and wiped away her tears, but couldn't hold it for long, buried her face again and continued to sob.

'Sorry,' Chuck said.

He looked around, then listened. No one. If it had been Hope, he would've gotten someone else, but now... He approached carefully, then had to gasp himself.

'Your leg,' he said stupidly.

Estelle had discarded her jeans, and they were crumpled up in a small heap next to her. Out from one of the trouser legs stuck a plastic leg, a prosthetic.

He swallowed, and turned to look back at the young woman on the mattress in her pure, white blouse and her plain, pink panties. In place of a left leg there was only a stump, no longer than maybe three inches. She was clutching it with both hands, and Chuck could see that it was terribly swollen.

'Didn't know,' he explained.

No answer but sobs.

'Want me to get some ice or something? I think we got frozen veggies in the kitchen.'

'No, no, no, can't you see it's pointless!'

Her entire body was shaking, and angrily Estelle started to hammer her fists against the stump. Chuck reacted automatically. He caught her arms, and with no effort restrained her.

'W-what are you doing?' he was utterly confused now.

'Let go! Let go!'

She pulled and strained to no avail.

Chuck looked around helplessly. He didn't know what to do, but at the same time, he didn't want anyone to come running in.

Wasn't there anything he could do?

Estelle wouldn't stop, she fought with all her might, screaming in anger. Chuck couldn't think. He took a deep breath.

'Hey!' he bellowed, and Estelle froze with terror.

Now horrified himself Chuck stared at Estelle's frightened face. For a few seconds the world was still.

Chuck held his breath expecting another attempt at escape, but Estelle seemed to have lost all of her willpower. She slumped down limply, and continued to weep, quiet, weak and pathetic now, all the furious energy having evaporated.

'So, so sorry, really,' Chuck said, and let go. 'Didn't want to be so rough, you were just...'

'I know,' her voice was tiny.

She turned away form Chuck, and assumed a sort of fetal position.

Chuck's mouth was dry, and he wanted to seriously punch his own stupid face for noticing Estelle's great arse right at this moment, firm and round, and with just enough bounce to it.

'That painful?' he asked.

No answer.

He reached out with his arm, then hesitated. Estelle didn't move or talk, and she was still trembling. Chuck placed his gigantic hand on her shoulder. He could see her tense up, but she soon relaxed again.

What to say? What to say?

'Sure you don't need that ice?'

No answer.

'Ms. Flores?'

'No ice. Thank you, Chuck.'

Chuck felt like he remembered something about this.

'You sure? Looks like it could help, is all.'

To his surprise he could feel her delicate fingers on his hand.

'I'm sure, thank you... and thank you.'

Once again she wiped away her tears, then slowly sat back up.

'I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to see me like this.'

Her eyes were red and swollen as well now.

'That's okay. We all got bad days,' Chuck said.

Estelle's expression hardened.

'It's not just a bad day. We can't do it. We tried and we can't! There isn't enough room, there isn't enough food, there isn't enough anything!'

She threw a pillow not very far at all.

'And now my... my... my... freaking leg won't go back on!'

Chuck laughed.

'What are you...!'

'Sorry. I just realised I never heard you swear. And I never heard anyone not swear so bad.'

'I-I... What? This isn't the...' Estelle was completely nonplussed.

Chuck tried look serious again.

'Sorry things aren't working out so good. But you did all you could do.'

'Did I?'

Chuck shrugged.

'Don't really know, but, fuck, you care. Don't know how but you do, and you're giving it your all. What else can you do?'

'I honestly don't know.'

'You shouldn't worry that much. What happens happens, nothing for you to go crying over.'

Estelle looked at him intently.

'So you don't care at all what happens to those people?'

Chuck was annoyed at how confrontational he felt like being.

'Terrible things happening to loads of people, pretty much all the time.'

Estelle shook her head.

'They've told me not to hire you, you know.'

Chuck shrugged.

'Not surprised.'

'They said you wouldn't fit in.'

'I don't.'

'An ex-convict, prone to outbursts, couldn't keep a job down if his life depended on it. But I said: no. All he needs is a chance, and look at you now.'

'Sorry but I'm not like you.'

'You're wrong. I've seen you around. You are transformed. You are working hard, you are volunteering for extra tasks, you can't deny that, you're changing already.'

Chuck laughed. He wanted to play along so much, but knew he wasn't capable of it. Too bad. He'd started to like this job, and it was one fine piece of arse.

'Yeah, yeah. Right you are. I care, I do. I saw you and then I cared real good. I saw you and I wanted to fuck the saint outta you so bad. That too fucking selfish for you? Then fuck off!'

Estelle's jaw dropped.

Chuck had stood up, and was now towering over her, tense, with gritted teeth and he loathed every fibre of his being.

Then his jaw dropped.

Estelle had ripped open her blouse.

'Do it!'

Chuck stared at the small, perky tits in her bra. She was panting heavily and her heaving chest made heat rise up within Chuck.

No! She couldn't be serious!

'Do it!'

Her smooth, dark skin glistened with sweat. There was a hunger in her eyes as she leant back, and spread her leg and stump.

Chuck moved. He was on her, his hands tearing fabric, grabbing smooth flesh, squeezing that perfect fucking arse, kissing the lips, so soft, caressing the tongue, so eager.

This was unlike anything Estelle had ever experienced. Chuck was wild and unpredictable, his body tense and rock hard. She had to feel him, all of him, scars and tattoos and everything. She wanted to taste that rugged, hairy, sweaty beast she'd set free, and she took his manhood, and his moans were gratifying beyond belief as Estelle took the throbbing shaft, and closed her mouth around it.

Chuck was grinning with astonished triumph watching Estelles body contort and tremble as he fucked her face, buried his member deep within her mouth until she gagged and spat.

Estelle was dripping wet, and a cry of happiness escaped her quivering lips when Chuck pulled back his strong fingers from her clit, and introduced his cock. His grin grew broader still, as he watched her face, almost like a virgin's, full of anticipation, terror, pain and finally blissful relief. Every single movement of his sent her on a whole journey, and they all culminated in fits of ecstasy. Chuck's own excitement began to build. He thought of Hope or Thomas barging in, staring right at his bare arse, jumping up and down right over their naked boss with her leg and stump spread under him, and impatiently he sped up.

Estelle was at her limit. She grabbed Chuck with all her strength, her fingers digging deep into his flesh, and arrived to a new height of glorious pleasure.

'Oh my... fuck!' she screamed, as she was thrown about by the relentless spasms of her climax.

Calm. Only the pair's heavy breathing could be heard over the silence. Estelle lay on top of the hulking figure, their naked, sweaty bodies pressed up against each other, Chuck's various odours having enveloped her entirely. She was drained and exhausted, and a weak smile seemed permanently etched into her face.

'The fuck was that?' Chuck asked.

'Amazing.'

'Yeah. You got fire in you.'

He slapped and squeezed her bum.

'You sound surprised.'

'Duh.'

He grabbed her stump.

'Leg's better too. Really didn't need the ice, huh.'

Estelle sighed happily.

'Right. I needed... this. I needed you.'

Chuck laughed.

'Gonna need me again?'

To his astonishment she kissed him, not like before, not forcefully. It was soft and long and sweet and gentle, it was warm and comforting, and Chuck was lost.

What to do?

Maybe he would stick around for a while.