This is a new story. All characters are over the age of eighteen before any sexual situations are involved.
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Thanks for reading.
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Yvonne was the daughter...well, one of them, anyway...of a couple that were friends of my parents when I was growing up.
She was one year younger than I was, and I last saw her when I was thirteen. She was a tall, scrawny, geeky, bespectacled girl with a bad attitude, fiery red hair and a smattering of freckles. The hair, freckles, eyes and attitude were inherited from her mother, which is one of the reasons I didn't miss the whole family one bit when they fell out of favour with my parents.
***
Years go by. Seasons change. I grew up and moved on with my life, which took me a long way from the small town I used to call home.
My job was to examine the loan applications received at my bank branch, plough through the numbers, and come up with a recommendation to either accept or reject the client's paperwork. Boring doesn't begin to cover it, but it was a paycheck.
I picked up the file from my 'in' box, and glanced at the name. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but it took me a while to place it, and the last place I placed it was twelve years and over two-thousand miles away. It could be someone else, but how many 'Yvonne Michelle Fevine's could there be? The surname alone was unique enough that I'd never seen it anywhere but that one family.
I picked up the phone, and punched a few numbers. The line rang once, twice...then crackled to life.
"Hello?" the voice on the other end said. The tones were soft, feminine, and bordering on sultry.
"Yvonne Fevine?" I asked.
"Yes!" she responded. I introduced myself.
"It's Richard Douglas, at Premier Bank...your loan application landed on my desk, and I have questions before I pass it on. Are you available to come in for a few minutes, sometime this week?" Truth be told, it could have been done over the phone, but I was curious. Could it be my old childhood acquaintance?
"Absolutely," she said evenly. "I could come in today, if you have time."
I looked at my calendar, and found that I did indeed have time.
"How's eleven sound?" I asked her.
"Eleven it is!" she sang. "I'll bring my business plan, and anything else that might be helpful. Thanks for calling."
I actually found myself looking forward to it. I'm not sure why, given that, if it was the same person, she'd always been quite the bitch to me.
***
I came out of the elevator, and walked past the reception desk.
"Your eleven o'clock is waiting in your office," the receptionist said.
"Great. Thanks," I replied turning down the hallway towards my office. I was lucky enough to get the larger room at the end of the hall, and my door was open, so I could see her immediately.
It had to be her.
She was sitting in the guest chair, with her legs crossed. Her back was angled toward me, and a cascade of sexy, wavy, flaming red hair tumbled well past her shoulders. As I approached, she turned her head slightly, showing me her profile, with a cute nose, plump, pouty lips, and black framed glasses.
I walked in, closing the door as I did.
"I once knew an Yvonne Fevine," I began.
"And I once knew a Richard Douglas!" she replied, turning as she stood.
I was right...it
was
her, but this was not the Yvonne I remembered. No...that scrawny, freckle-faced tomboy had definitely grown up. Wow!
"Hi, Rick!"
She was tall, easily six feet in her heels, a pair of glittering silver and navy blue pumps with moderate spikes. Long, slender, shapely legs disappeared under a knee length navy skirt, that wrapped her apparently firm ass nicely. Up top, well, let's just say she had my rapt attention...and what appeared to be a larger than average pair of breasts. They were full, and round, but not so much that they looked out of place on her body. I don't know what fabric her blouse was made of, but it was cream coloured, and draped over those luscious curves in the sexiest way, magnifying even the slightest jiggle.
As good as her body appeared to be... and if you read the previous paragraph, I think you'll agree she wasn't chopped liver...her face was stunning. Huge blue eyes, surrounded by the black rectangular frames of her glasses, contrasted the fiery explosion of hair. She had fashion model bones, with high, wide cheekbones, a perky nose, and softly pointed chin line. The final piece of the puzzle was her mouth, a bee-stung masterpiece that had me wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips.
Most unusual of all was her smile, not because it was unique, or exceptional, or anything like that, although it was both of those. What made it unusual was that it was there at all, as I couldn't recall seeing it as a child. Anyway, it was there now, and it was shining at me.
"Hi Yvonne! Long time...no see," I replied, extending my hand. She looked at it and laughed.
"After, what?... Twelve years? I think we can do better than a handshake, don't you?" She stepped over and pressed against me in a hug that was close enough to a brother-sister one to be acceptable in a business environment. I say 'close enough', because it was a longish hug, and she couldn't hide those yummy, firm globes, that caused dents in my chest. "What are the odds... after all this time, and so far from home...that we meet this way? It's great to see you. You're looking good."
"Thanks," I answered, returning her smile, "I can't believe how good
you