Before I continue, I realise that I had omitted to mention the fact that I am left-handed. Whilst not uncommon, it's something I take for granted but in this particular episode, it is important. Think about it!
A right handed man will generally feel a woman's left breast first, whereas a leftie will fondle her right one! A rightie will usually sit/lie to the right of a woman, whereas a leftie would be to the left. A rightie will cock his right leg, whereas a leftie cocks his left leg.
Conversely, because of these positions, a woman tends to use her left hand to hold a rightie's penis, though she would normally be right handed herself. For a leftie, the woman tends to use her stronger right hand! Subtle differences to be aware of.
To continue, in February 1985 I moved to my new job in Salford, a bit nearer home, but I still managed to get my own small terraced house to live in. As April arrived I was sent on a detailed technical course held in Birmingham. This is where I met...
THE FIT WOMAN (1985 ~ 25)
The course was two weeks long starting on the Monday. I arrived in the hotel late Sunday about 9pm and after checking in and unpacking went to the bar for a drink. It was about 9:30pm when I first saw her, coming out of the restaurant and going to the lift. I thought she looked "a stunner".
At breakfast I saw her again, still looking "hot". The third time was coming out of the hotel and getting into a taxi. The fourth time, no less, was in the foyer of the conference facility as we both checked in. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her in the same training room as I entered. I just had to go and speak to her, so I walked over to the seat next to her.
"Excuse me" I said "You won't believe it but I've followed you from the hotel to here and we're on the same course! Now that's got to be spooky. My name's Joe, by the way." as I sat down next to her.
"Helene", she replied, in a very slightly French tinged accent "and I did notice you being in the same places as me!"
We casually chatted until the course started, when we had to introduce ourselves. It came round to Helene.
"My name is Helene DuBois, I work for an Anglo-French financial institution. I was born in Belgium but my parents moved across the channel to Kent when I was about 11. I attended Queen Mary College in London studying Economics and International Commerce. I run daily and I am keen supporter of Tottenham Hotspur."
I listened, almost amazed, then it was my turn. "This may sound a little like deja-vu! My name is Joe Barker, I work for an electrical engineering components company. I'm originally from Preston, but when I was very young my family moved a whole 20 miles up the road towards Blackburn. I thought about going to QMC to study computer science but went to Leeds instead. I also run daily and have supported Blackburn Rovers for as long as I can remember."
During the break we spoke again, particularly about our experiences at our differing universities. It turned out Helene was a year ahead of me. As we ended the day's session, we shared a taxi back to the hotel. I asked if she would like to go running before the evening meal, and she agreed, saying we'd meet outside. Having got changed into my running gear, I went down to find Helene dressed in tight lycra leggings and top. I could even see the gap between her legs, they were that tight! The leggings I meant.
"That's not fair", I said, "You look stunning and I look like a tramp."
"When you've got style!" she retorted.
"Flaunt it," I answered, "but I can run faster!!" then set off running.
She chased and caught up with me as I slowed for her. We ran for about 30 minutes and agreed to eat together after we'd showered and changed. Tuesday and Wednesday we breakfasted and shared a taxi, worked together in a team on the course and ran before sharing an evening meal.
On the Wednesday night conversation at the meal turned to football and a semi-heated debate about the season so far and the relative chances of Blackburn and Tottenham. Finally, in a determined voice, she said, "With the form Falco is in they stand as much chance of winning the League as you have of... of bonking Christie Brinkley. No chance."
"Mmmm. Right. So a shag's out of the question then?" I quipped.
"Only on Holy Days", she replied quickly.
"I'll have to check my diary and get back to you!" I answered.
"Good. Let me know when you do." she answered back. I wasn't sure if that was a come-on or not! We finished eating and had a drink or two before retiring to do some more course work.
That night as I was getting undressed for bed, I couldn't help but think about Helene, her body and the semi sort of flirting that was going on between us. I was as horny as hell. I hadn't brought Cunty, so I pulled two of the pillows to the end of the bed and folded them over. I put a condom on my aching erection and slipped it in between the fold of the pillows. I fucked that pillow, thinking of Helene with her legs splayed wide. Soon I was ready to shoot my load, which I did with knee shuddering delight. I slept well satisfied, but woke up to another stiff appendage. I just pulled away slowly, thinking again of Helene, until I ejaculated over my stomach. The shower beckoned.
Thursday evening we ran before the meal as we had previously. When I came down for the meal, I was stunned to see her walk in dressed in a snug fitting catsuit.
"You'll have to stop doing this," I said.
"What?" Helene queried, feigning innocence.
"Making me look like a tramp!" I replied.
"Sorry," she answered, "I thought you might like the outfit."
"Believe me," I said back, maybe a little too eagerly, "I most certainly do!"
It was difficult to keep my eyes off her breasts while eating, the nipples on the end of her round breasts were obvious. After the meal, Helene said she fancied a walk. So off we went around the area of the hotel but shortly she said she felt a little cold. I took off my jumper to put it on her as we walked back. By the time we got back I too felt cold and suggested a drink of tea or coffee to warm up. I suggested my room rather than the bar area. Helene agreed.