Funny Face

Funny Face

It took me, Brad Overton, more than a year to recover from my bizarre marriage to Denise. It didn't end because either of us cheated -- if "cheating" is only related to sex out-of-marriage -- but because Denise became a different person. She was "nice" when we married; she became "mean" within three years, and I couldn't take it anymore. Therefore, since I had gotten good legal advice and had a great prenup, I exited our relationship without getting soaked financially. My business was not touched, and my financial life style wasn't significantly adversely impacted.

The major way that my divorce adversely affected me was the lack of readily available pussy and companionship. While Denise had become mean, she never withheld sex, so I was kept sexually fulfilled physically up until I actually filed for divorce. I'm not the most outgoing guy so I had trouble with dating in the year+ after my divorce, but had finally come to terms with the fact that it would be a while before I could find another significant relationship. I was still young at 30, however, so I wasn't really concerned.

I was still without significant emotional recovery from my divorce on a Tuesday late afternoon when I went shopping at one of my favorite food stores. The store was in an office building so that parking was on the lower level, with the majority of the store on the first level, and with either elevators or a shopping cart conveyor to allow customers to easily get their purchases to their cars.

As I was going through the store picking up what I needed I kept seeing a very unusual looking women who was quickly moving through the aisles getting her own purchases. We seemed to exchange looks every time our paths crossed; I don't know why her eyes met mine, but I know why mine met hers.

The unusual woman had a very open face with her eyes as wide open as any person I had ever seen in my life. While her face wasn't actually beautiful, it was intriguing. I couldn't figure out if she was pretty, exotic, or weird, but I was mesmerized regardless of how I would characterize it. Since her face was so different, and since I didn't know her name, in my mind I referred to her as "funny face," maybe because she looked a little bit like the TV actress Kate Micucci who had been in a number of popular TV shows including Garfunkel and Oates, Big Bang Theory, and Scrubs.

Her body was also interesting. She had on tight jeans that seemed to indicate that her legs were unusually slim, and her ass unusually large, round, and firm. The top that she had on was also tight -- and although her tits didn't seem to be extremely large, they did seem to be prominent and conical in shape, something that I was personally unfamiliar with.

Then there was her hair -- obviously dyed an unusual muted red, and shoulder length. While I don't normally like dyed, or red, hair, I had to admit that on her it enhanced her appeal, and again (I hate to keep using this word but it is the most descriptive one) made her "intriguing."

There was no way that I could determine her age since she didn't look like anyone else I had ever seen. If I had to guess I would say somewhere between 25 and 40, but since Kate Micucci is 46 and looks 26, I had no confidence that I was right.

She had no rings on her fingers; she did have a leather cord necklace on; not my favorite, but as with her particular hair it really worked.

Being as reticent as I am at putting myself out there with women I didn't seriously consider trying to talk to her; but then serendipity intervened.

As I was waiting on the lower level for my cart to come down the cart conveyor, who should come down the escalator right after me but "Funny Face." Her shopping cart was apparently also following mine on the conveyor.

When she got to the first level and stood next to me I was surprised that she was probably only about five feet three inches tall because I noted for the first time that she had three or four inch high heels on. (I wondered "who goes food shopping in high heels?" but that didn't dissuade me since I had already determined that Funny Face was very unusual). That meant that she was likely a foot shorter than I was, and I am normally attracted only to tall women.

Once my shopping cart came off the conveyor as I turned towards Funny Face her eyes bored into mine. Without thinking I found myself talking to her: "After you get your cart can I ask you a question?"

"You mean a second question," she laughed, "then OK." Her voice wasn't exactly squeaky, but high pitched.

I inwardly laughed at her "second question" remark since it was spot on, but unusual -- again, just like her.

When she retrieved her shopping cart we moved out of the way of other shoppers and I asked my "second" question. "Can I treat to you dinner Thursday night?"

"Why Thursday night?" she smiled.

"Because I'm very available then and restaurants aren't as crowded as on the weekend."

"What type of place will you take me to?"

"Any place you want."

"Not restricted to McDonald's or Wendy's?" she smirked.

"Absolutely not -- anywhere."

"I've never eaten at Morton's Steak House. If you'll take me there, I agree."

"What time is good for you?" I inquired.

"Seven o'clock would be great."

"Should I pick you up or meet you there?"

"Let's meet there; it's only about three blocks from my apartment and I can easily walk there."

"Sounds good," I smiled. Then I reached into my suit pocket and handed her my card. "I'm Brad Overton; here's my card. Give me a call if you end up having some difficulties."

"I won't," she grinned as she took my card, exposing really white and straight teeth.

I let her go first in pushing our carts into the garage since I wanted to get a good look at her ass -- which when I got a really good view by following her found that it was even better for my tastes than I had previously thought.

As I returned my cart to the return area I saw her drive by; I was shocked that her car was still operable it looked so decrepit; I didn't know what that meant, but just shrugged my shoulders and went about my business.

I almost never dream. I was surprised when I woke up sweating about three in the morning after having a vivid dream about Funny Face -- she hadn't given me her name when I gave her my card so I inwardly still referred to her as that. What I remembered of my dream was freaky (and sexual).

***********

When Funny Face showed up exactly at 7 p. m. at Morton's on Thursday the first thing I did was to ask her what her name was. "Vespera Collins," she smiled.

"I never heard the name 'Vespera' before," I grinned.

"Supposedly it means 'evening star'; I do my best work at night," she grinned in reply.

Vespera was dressed in a sundress that looked a little worn, but highlighted her slim body and conical tits, and had three or four inch high heels and leather cord necklace on, maybe the same ones as at the grocery store.

The dinner with Vespera was as unusual as she was. She didn't really look at the menu actually even declining it when the waiter offered her one with the quip "I don't like to look at prices; my friend Brad will order for me."

With raised eyebrows I ordered for her, getting her the same salad, entrée, and dessert that I did.

Vespera was very animated in her conversation, but seemed to be very naive about what I would consider common knowledge. Some of the many things she was confused about that somehow came up in our peculiar conversation where: "Did dinosaurs really exist -- and did they breathe fire?" (that one was a doozy because who doesn't know that dinosaurs existed, or confuse them with fictional dragons); "Ostriches stick their heads in the sand;" "The man-in-the-moon is a cosmonaut abandoned by the Russians;" "Professional wrestling is real," and "Tigers are girl lions." I tried to correct some of her misconceptions, but eventually gave up and just smiled.

Talking and otherwise interacting with Vespera disabused me of a misconception that I had too; I thought that all people with autism (I was sure that Vespera was somewhere on the spectrum) are introverts; but Vespera was clearly an extrovert.

Verpera also had a healthy appetite and cleaned every plate put in front of her. While her voice was high pitched, it wasn't really squeaky as it was close to at the grocery store, and wasn't in any way unpleasant. While she was naïve about many things she was a big fan of sports and dancing. Our conversation never dragged, and there were no awkward pauses; plus I got some interesting personal information about her, including that she was 29. Overall it was a really upbeat experience and I was glad that I had done it.

One thing that Vespera did make clear during our meal -- although in a subtle manner -- was that she was not in a good position economically, and actually had paid for her groceries with SNAP benefits. That didn't surprise me given the status of her car.

After I paid the bill and we walked out of Morton's I was probably as confused as when I entered as to whether this was a woman who was possible relationship material, or just an enjoyable distraction. Things got even more bizarre when we were about twenty feet from the entrance to Morton's when she grabbed my crotch, rubbed my cock and balls through my pants, and smiled "It seems that you really want to fuck me."

Given the reaction of my cock -- which apparently had already been half hard when she grabbed it and which immediately rose to full mast when she did -- I guess she was right even though I hadn't been crude enough to think of it in those terms when we were eating.

Apparently Vespera could tell by the wide-eyed look I had to have had, and the condition of my cock, that she was spot on so she continued. "We can go to the Hilton on the next block, or you can take me to your house and then return me after we're done -- or in the morning," the "in the morning" stated with a giggle. "One thing though, I'm having a little difficulty with my rent and I was wondering if you'd give me $200. That wouldn't be for fucking, but because you like me, feel sorry for me, I'm a good charity case, and you're a good guy."

"WOW," I thought, "this night keeps getting weirder and weirder." I had never paid for sex before, but at the present time, especially given the condition of my cock and not having been laid in many months, after an initial shock I said "Tell you what. I don't pay for sex, but if I really get my pipes cleaned well I'll be in a good mood. Depending how good my mood is I might give you $100, $200, or even $400 to help with your rent. Now what did you say about the Hilton?"

When we got to Room 418 at the Hilton Vespera was really excited because it had a whirlpool bath and a king size bed with an overstuffed mattress.

I was really excited too, but not because of the room. Vespera wasted little time in getting naked and her naked body turned out to be even much more desirable than I thought looking at her clothed. Her tits really were conical, and when freed from her bra look significantly bigger (and suckable) than when she was clothed. While her calves were thin her thighs were toned and perfect in size, and her shaved pussy looked luscious.

I was also flattered because Vespera oohed and aahed about my cock. While I never considered myself a real cocksman Vespera had really nice things to say about its shape and size, and she giggled when she gently bounced my testicles chortling "They're almost as big as lemons!"

As we showered Vespera enjoyed playing kissy-face while she fondled my cock and balls, and no part of her body was off-limits to me.

The real treat was when we got between the sheets. We immediately got into a 69 with her on top and I found her to be a master cock-sucker, better than anyone else ever in my experience. Her pussy was delectable and she made many enchanting sounds and movements as I abused her kitty. When I was close to going off -- and not wanting to waste one in her mouth -- I moved out of the sixty nine.

Vespera expertly maneuvered me onto my back, rose above me, and with a big smile on her open face slowly lowered her very snug pussy over my cock. Once she was buried she went wild, seemingly moving in several different directions and manners at the same time, while with genuine enthusiasm I massaged her conical tits. It wasn't long before I was ejaculating a seemingly endless stream of jism into her tight pussy with the power of a power-washer, and she was screaming in ecstasy. She collapsed spent on my chest, and I stroked the sides of her tits as we lay together with my dick still ensconced in her pussy.

After about ten minutes I finally went a little flaccid and popped out of her vagina, and she rolled off of and next to me, with the most expressive grin on her face I had ever seen. "Wow, that was really fun, dude," she chirped.

"The understatement of the year," I chuckled.

"Let's get a little sleep and then do it again," she grinned as she snuggled up to me and put her head on my shoulder. Her idea seemed great to me, so that's what we did.

After two more top notch orgasms for me, and about five for her, I thought to myself "I've heard that people with autism are really good at one or two things. If she does have autism I know one of the things that she's really good at -- fucking!"

We finally dragged our asses out of bed at 7:56 the next morning. As we ate breakfast at the Hilton we were both smiling widely. After she finished her omelet and trappings with gusto she asked "Are you in a good mood this morning -- like you said you might be last night."

I laughed, pulled out my wallet and gave her all my cash except one $20 bill that I needed before I could go to the bank; I think that I gave her $387.

"Thanks," she chuckled as she stuck the bills into her purse. "Wouldn't you like this to be a regular thing?" she asked, her face even more open and expressive than normal.

"Sure would," I replied.

"Let's meet Saturday and work on a plan; care to give me your home address, Brad?"

"I will; but can your car make it? -- when I saw you in it at the grocery store garage it looked about to conk out."

"I don't drive it more than two miles from my apartment because I have the same apprehension that you do. How about giving me your Uber account information in addition to your address?" she beamed.

I still wasn't sure about a real relationship, but I damn well was sure that I wanted a sexual relationship with this woman. The previous night was the sexual pinnacle so far in my life. So I wrote my home address and my Uber information on a business card and gave it to her.

***********

Over the next two months I became a very sexually satisfied man. Vespera usually met me for dinner Tuesday and Thursday afternoons and then stayed the night at my house and we would find at least two or three hours on a weekend day to do things together, always concluded with a great fuck. Her body and energy seemed to get better all of the time -- maybe it was just in my mind, but there was no doubt that physically speaking I was getting the best sex of my life by a factor of two.

There were only a couple of drawbacks:

1) Although I enjoyed Vespera's company at all times, especially her enthusiasm for life and optimism, and of course the sex was other-worldly, I really was not excited about a long term relationship with her. I couldn't really put my finger on why, except that she was so unusual, but even though in the past I might have terminated the relationship at this stage there was no way in hell I was going to stop getting my ashes hauled by this sexual savant.

2) I was concerned about her monetary situation. While I never paid her for sex at the end of each of the last two months I asked her how much she needed to be sure to pay the rent (both times between $300 and $400) and gave it to her. She always earnestly thanked me, but not with sex. I knew that she had a minimum wage job at a fast food restaurant and would never really be able to make ends meet.

I was at least able to do something about issue 2). In my interfacing with her I found out that she was almost certainly on the autism spectrum although a rare extrovert with that condition. As I earlier indicated I believed that most people on the spectrum have one or two things that they are really good at and aside from her unparalleled sexual abilities I found that she had an almost GPS mind. Whenever we drove someplace she could direct me there flawlessly; she told me of several Uber drivers that she directed for faster trips to my house; and she liked talking about maneuvering about the city (I'm not sure that her skills would translate to other places, although maybe they would after some orientation).

At about the same time that I was recognizing her GPS persona I was becoming unhappy with the delivery service that the company I own used during the day for taking parts, drawings, or documents to customers or providers; or chauffeuring my employees to meetings so that they didn't have to drive. I finally decided to take a car service in house, and not use the contract service any more.

Verspera was thrilled when I offered her the job of being our messenger/chauffeur at 3 ⅗ times her pay at the fast food restaurant, and with an actual real health plan (which she didn't have). I scheduled her for 30 hours a week which would make her a full time employee, and since her jalopy had died bought (in my company's name) her a three year old hybrid Honda Accord that was in good condition and gave her a gas credit card. I also told her that she could use the car outside of work too, as long as she didn't take it more than 60 miles from our office.

Also, to insure no legal complications, I had an experienced employment attorney write up an agreement that he insisted was entirely legal in our state insuring which provided that she could never legitimately claim that our sexual relationship was necessary for, or related to, her employment.

Things worked out better than I could have predicted. It turns out that my other employees loved Vespera's upbeat, optimistic, cheery attitude, and open, innocent face; she did a much better job with the deliveries and chauffeuring than our contract service had done; and she provoked no drama. In fact within two months after she started working for me there was no doubt that Vespera was, with the other employees, the most popular employee that I had. Even one curmudgeon who disliked everyone and who I kept on the payroll only because he was a whiz with spreadsheets, had a smile on his face every time that he saw or talked to Vespera.

Another bonus: after she had worked at my office for two weeks that Thursday night she was even more energetic and amorous than normal (hard to believe) and told me during the next three day weekend I should take her to a resort promising that "you'll never regret it" as she started sucking my cock within seconds of when "regret it" came out of her mouth.

We did go to a four star resort on the three day weekend. There were only two problems. I had been fucked so often and so well that I could barely see on the ride home, and it took me a full day of missing work and punting on our normal Tuesday overnight to recover. What horrible problems to have, huh?

**************

You dear readers will know from your experiences in real life that there has to be a "But..." coming, and of course you're right.

After about six months of me thoroughly enjoying Vespera's company both inside and outside of the sack, and with never a cross word between us, as we were about to fall asleep one Tuesday night after yet another unbelievably fabulous cowgirl ride, as we cuddled she softly said "Oh, Brad, honey; I forgot to tell you that I can't make it this Thursday so maybe we could do Friday instead."

"Why, sexy?" I inquired since she had never before missed a session (although I had to miss a couple for business trips).

"Because I have to go to a thing with my husband; I can't get out of it."

BOING!

I immediately transitioned from about to revel in a really enjoyable sleep, to being wide awake with my heart pounding.

"You what?" I asked, probably with more voice volume than I intended.

"My husband, Jerry," she innocently replied, with no change in her normal after-sex expression except maybe her eyes were open even a little wider.

"I didn't know that you were married... why did you never tell me... how could you get away two nights a week..." were some of the things that spontaneously came out of my mouth, although with stuttering and angst, not as calmly as I had thought of them, and without waiting for replies.

"Oh, I thought that you might get upset; but after spending all of the wonderful hours together that we have I know that you're past the point that you'd want to stop," she grinned; yes, actually grinned!

I put my face in my hands, then stumbled out of bed and sat in the padded chair in my bedroom. Vespera was clearly concerned and sat naked on my lap and put her arms around my neck. "Are you mad, Brad?" she asked, and then chuckled at her little rhyme.

I wanted to yell at Vespera -- but her earnest look on her open funny face, and her conical tits, distracted me, so I couldn't. After a pregnant pause I sighed and said "No, I'm not mad, just disappointed. I'm sorry but I just won't have sex with a married woman."

With that Vespera started crying. I patted her shoulders as she bawled. She finally went from crying to asleep on my lap. Once I heard her light snores I stood up holding her, placed her on my bed, and covered her up. Then I took a shower, and after putting my underwear on, went into a guest bedroom to lick my wounds. I finally fell into a troubled sleep.

I awoke from my troubled sleep the next morning with a pleasant sensation at my crotch. My mind was confused enough from what happened the previous evening and my troubled sleep that I wasn't quick on the uptake. By the time I realized that Vespera was sucking my cock with alacrity it was too late to stop, and I ejaculated a half dozen streams of cum into her mouth before Vespera pulled off of me with a big smile on her face.

"You sure seemed to enjoy that, Brad; why would you want to give that up?" she giggled.

I groaned. "Vespera, having sex with a married woman is beyond my moral and belief system. You had me past the point of no return before I realized what you were doing. I'm sorry, Vespera, but we have to stop."

We were almost silent during breakfast. Since Vespera now had her own car we didn't drive into work together, but just before we were about to leave my house she jumped up on me, like a baby monkey might its mother, clamped her thighs around my sides and her arms around my neck and kissed me full on the lips. I didn't really return the kiss, but I didn't push her off me either. When she finally jumped off of me she had the saddest look on her funny face, with a tear in her eye.

************

The next month was really hard on me, especially when several of my employees asked "What's wrong with Vespera; she's not her cheery upbeat self?"

"Don't know," was my curt reply, but each time I was asked it was like a knife was driven into my chest. I had come to enjoy Vespera's company so much -- let alone the mind-blowing sex -- that I was suffering too.

I don't know how long my malaise would have continued when on a Monday about month after I had stopped having sex with her Vespera didn't show up for work. She also hadn't called in -- something that never had happened before. I tried to reach her on the cellphone that I had given her but it went straight to voice mail. About an hour after I tried to call her I got a call from the local hospital.

"Brad Overton," I answered the phone after seeing the hospital's main number come up on my caller ID.

"Mr. Overton, this is Mary Blythe, a social worker at Veteran's Memorial hospital. I'm calling about an employee if yours, at her request. Her name is Vespera Collins."

"Is she ill, or was she in an accident?" I blurted out, my blood pressure suddenly rising.

"Actually, probably worse; she was beaten by her husband Jerry Collins. She was admitted yesterday and will probably have to stay here the rest of the week, but she is anxious about her job, and hopes that you will come to see her."

"What room is she in, and when can I come?" I asked.

"She's in room 318; because of the excellent health plan that your company has it's a single, and you can come anytime from now until 2 p. m., and if you can't make it then between 5 and 7 p. m."

"I'll be right over," I said.

I put my suitcoat on, told my secretary what was going on, and told my #2 man (she's a woman but I still call her that) to handle a meeting with a customer that was coming up in half an hour, and took off.

I was surprised by the feelings that I had on my way to the hospital; they were very confused. Of course I had concern for Vespera as a person and an employee, but there was something else too that I either didn't want to recognize, or couldn't.

I talked to Vespera's nurse and took several deep breaths before I entered Room 318. Her eyes were closed, but she clearly wasn't asleep when I approached her. The IVs and tubes going into her made me gulp. I pulled up a chair and sat next to her and held her hand. Her eyes opened wide and despite some damage to her mouth the biggest smile in history overwhelmed her face.

We had a light and easy chat for five or ten minutes, including her telling me with her characteristic enthusiasm that she saw highlights of a professional wrestling match on TV that morning and who won. I chuckled that she was still a believer.

Then I got to the serious subject. She had tears in her eyes as she related the situation with her husband. It was like a knife in my heart when she said he was pissed that she wasn't cheery like normal after I found out that she was married, and when she told him why (he apparently did know about us) he beat her.

"How could you have gotten away to see me all of the time, being married?" I asked in a curious, non-judgmental, voice.

"Jerry drinks a lot and likes to hang out with friends so he was never home Tuesday and Thursday nights," she replied without making eye contact.

I comforted Vespera until the nurses kicked me out. Then I got to work on her problems.

It's useless to have contacts that can help someone you care about unless you take advantage of it. I happen to have a great relationship with Bill Winston, the police captain who is in charge of the Police Boys and Girls club in our city since my company is a significant sponsor; Kathy Grimes is one of the local assistant prosecutors and my older sister's best friend, and I helped Kathy out of a bad situation when we both were in High School; and I have good karma with Jill Benson who handled my divorce and who I've referred many other people to and she and her husband have socialized with me in the past.

In view of my contacts -- and my willingness to foot the bill for Vespera's divorce -- by Friday not only was Vespera's husband in jail but he had been denied bond and I was assured by both Bill and Kathy that he wasn't getting out, and Jill had filed for divorce on Vespera's behalf and told me that it would be a quick slam dunk.

Despite her husband's vicious attack on her Vespera was reluctant to file for divorce since she was afraid of him and since she had no place to go if she vacated their apartment since the lease was in his name. I put her at ease when I told her that she could come and live with me; that is she was at ease as soon as she stopped crying and said "I love you Brad!" I didn't say that I loved her in return, yet, however after analyzing my feelings since the last time that she was in my house I was rapidly concluding that I was, in fact, in love with her too.

After she was in the hospital for a week Vespera was discharged to my house. I had a meeting with all thirty of my employees to tell them the situation; rumors could adversely affect morale. I told everyone the truth; I had feelings for Vespera, I felt an obligation to see that she got better, and that after she recovered if she wanted to come back to work she would be welcomed with open arms by me, and hopefully all of them. The unexpected cheers my talk was greeted with -- including by the curmudgeon -- left no doubt that having the talk with everyone had been a good idea; in fact productivity increased by more than 10% that week.

Although Vespera was feeling much better when she moved into my house, and slept in the hospital bed I had rented for her and was in my first floor den, she needed care and companionship, so I hired someone to be with her at all times. I also gave her access to any movie or TV program she desired, or any book. I would also eat dinner with her in the den on meals prepared by a chef I had hired. What she seemed to like the most, however, was first when I would snuggle her without hurting her bruised body; then when she improved some more kiss her on the lips; then after more recovery rub her tits under her top garment; and when she was getting close to normal then play with her pussy to orgasm.

After about a month in my house she was doing so well that we returned the hospital bed and she slept with me in my bed. Our first sexual experience when we did that was different than our previous often wild, but always athletic, previous sexual encounters. We made love. It really felt different, just a pleasing physically, but so much more emotionally satisfying that it was a completely different experience.

After the first night that we slept together Vespera returned to her normal upbeat ebullient self. Three days after that she was able to come back to work -- not much got done at the office that day because everyone wanted to talk to her and bask in her sunshine -- but by the next day things had returned to normal.

After her first week back at work I had analyzed my feelings and had to admit to myself that I was in love -- so that weekend I finally told her. I wasn't completely prepared for her reaction. While she had a couple of tears in one eye her main reaction was to attack me like a sex-crazed bonobo. While we had been making love for more than a week, that night it was pure primal lust as she rode me like I was a rented mule. Fortunately I did survive the ride, and later that night we made love. After a very sanguine peaceful experience she held my face in her hands. "Please don't ever kick me out, Brad; I couldn't take it."

"I won't, funny face," I chuckled as I pulled her into contact with my shoulder and she fell asleep in my arms.

***********

It was lucky that Vespera's divorce came through within four months because her being attacked and her subsequent hospital stay apparently had done something to her birth control because she was pregnant. She was apprehensive when she told me, but I was happy and convinced her of that. Even though at that point I had little leverage, without even reading it she still signed the prenuptial agreement I presented her with since she said "I know that you didn't like me cheating on my first husband so I want to set your mind at ease, and I know what type of person you are so I know that you've been fair in this agreement." We were married two months after she told me she was pregnant.

The wedding turned out to be a bigger and more expensive deal than I would have liked, since every employee made it known that they wanted to attend (most with their significant other); but on the other hand the wedding was a big morale booster for all of the employees.

************

It's now ten years, three kids, and two dogs later, and I couldn't be happier. I've found out that Vespera has another hidden talent besides her sexual proficiency and directional abilities -- she's a perfect mom, and wife. My only regret is that sometimes I have to put up with professional wrestling blaring away on a big screen TV in our house because I still haven't been able to convince her that it isn't real!