I'd known Sheila since early childhood. We'd gone to the same infant and then primary schools from the ages of five to eleven together, before separating to go to different secondary schools. We'd never met socially after that, no playing together, and playdates hadn't been invented back then anyway. Even though we lived in different parts of the same small suburban village of North Manchester, we didn't meet that often anyway.
So, it was another seven years, when we were aged eighteen, that we met again. We had begun to drink in the same pub and bumped into one another one night. Once more, we didn't get together, although we did rekindle our former childhood friendship but nothing else. One thing I had noticed, however, was that Sheila was by now a very attractive and sexy girl.
She had always been on the skinny side of things, not anorexically thin, but not a fatty either. As a kid, she was whip-thin, leggy and gangly would be the best description of her.
She was still the same, very slender and tall, but her boobs had formed and developed, her hips had widened, and she had a tight, firm arse. Her long, pretty face was still framed by her lustrous black hair, which was now styled in a fashionable late 1970s "Purdy" cut.
One thing I did acknowledge to myself, Sheila had become one of the sexiest girls I had ever met. There was just something about her, that to me, screamed out raw, undiluted sex appeal.
Over the next couple of years, we were both in relationships of one type of another. Sheila was married for a very short time. I became engaged before being cruelly dumped and left with a very broken heart. In the background, however, there was always that childhood friendship between us to call on.
I'll admit I fancied her, and I asked her out on a couple of occasions when we were both unattached, but for some reason of her own, she always rejected my advances. It was strange because I knew that in a way, she fancied me as much as I did her. I could see it in the way she looked at me at times. The same as I looked at her, with lust and wanting.
Anyway, we were happy to be just friends, although we occasionally paired up to go on to the local nightclub when the pubs shut. That was a natural thing to do as I had a car and could drive, Sheila didn't and couldn't. This was all back in the 1970s when driving after having a drink wasn't the taboo thing (rightfully) it is now. There was never an idea that we were out on a date together though. We'd chat, drink and have a dance and that was it. I knew exactly where I stood one night when we were having a slow smoochy dance. I moved my hands into a more natural position than they currently were, my right palm slipping lower on her hip, almost but not quite cupping her tight little arse cheek. My left had moved across her back and was dangerously close to her bra strap and clasp.
Sheila's nails and they were like talons at the time, dug into my arm. I couldn't move, they hurt that much. I desperately explained I wasn't trying to 'cop a feel' of her bum or undo her bra. Eventually, Sheila relaxed her grip, and we carried on dancing, but there was an uneasy tension between us for the rest of the night.
Our friendship blossomed and grew even more throughout our early twenties, as we became really close, but platonic friends.
One night we ended up back at her tiny one-room plus bathroom flat, and I stayed the night, sleeping on the floor, while Sheila used her sofa bed. My resolve was pushed to the limit that night when Sheila had got ready for bed and came back from the bathroom, having changed into her nightclothes. I don't know if she meant it, but she looked like sex personified to me. She was wearing a powder-blue baby-doll nightdress and matching panties. I was convinced she didn't have a bra on as I could see the outline of her tits and nipples through her nightie. Her panties were pulled tight, and I could see her camel toe taunting me. The fact that she was standing above me and I was lying on the floor looking directly up her long slim sexy legs made them seem even longer.
She bent over and gave me a goodnight kiss on the cheek, confirming that she was braless and then hopped into her bed. Sheila knew that she could trust me, then again, I've always been like that. I never force things, if they happen great, if not, then I take the philosophical view that it wasn't meant to happen in the first place. As far as I'm concerned, I've not gone short using that approach.
Halfway through the night, I woke up to the sound of soft crying. Sheila was in pain from her back. She had injured it when she was working as a nurse. She had been on solo night duty on a ward when a patient had fallen half out of bed. Sheila had tried to support him while desperately calling for help, at the same time trying not to wake the other patients. Well, the strain of holding him up made a mess of her back, so much that she had to give up the career she loved. That, in some ways, had been the start of her downward spiral. And, was why she was now living in this grotty little bedsit.
I moved to her and ran my hand over her forehead, stroking her hair and comforting her. I even kissed a tear off her cheek. There was never a thought in my head to make a move on her, not at that vulnerable time. My cock desperately wanted me to though.
Gradually Sheila calmed down, then said, "If you promise not to touch me, you can get in with me."
I didn't even think before I answered. "Sheila, if I get in bed with you, there is no way I will not be able to touch you. So I'm not going to take the risk." As soon as the words left my mouth, I thought,
You idiot, why did you say that
? Sheila sighed but didn't say anything else. All the same, I knew that if I had have got into bed with her, I'd have made the move that both of us seemed to want, but would ultimately have regretted in the morning.
We had one other chance of getting together when we paired up as a foursome with another couple of friends at the same nightclub. When we got back to Sheila's, I was hoping that we would hook up together at last. Instead, I ended up with Hilary, the other girl, for a night of unsatisfying sex.
Hilary had had a thing for me for a while, but she wasn't really my type, so I'd resisted her advances until then. Now don't get me wrong, I didn't have women chasing after me all the time, the opposite in fact, but I just didn't fancy her. Sheila, by this time, had got the reputation of being a bit of an easy thing. Not with me for some reason, though. I'd have been happy for a one night fling if she'd given me any chance for one. Or have been happy to take things further.
I'd been home on leave for just over a week from my job as an electrical engineering officer in the British Merchant Marine. I'd been away for over four months on a trip down to South Africa, and as I wasn't re-joining the ship when it sailed on its next voyage, I had at least two months leave due me. So I was ready to party with a capital P.
I had gone to the pub for a couple of pints and a game of cards or darts when Sheila came in, and we got talking. As was usual, we had a game of darts together, and for once, I won. That despite Sheila being on the Ladies team at the time. The pub was closing, but I was ready to continue enjoying myself, so I asked Sheila if she fancied going to our old nightclub. There was never any doubt that we would get in as I had been a member from the day it opened and had a lifetime platinum membership. When Sheila said yes, I went home, picked my car up and off we went.
