All persons engaged in sexual activity in this story, are over 18 years of age.
Due to circumstances, it has been a while since CH 1, but I recently saw Cass, (real name) the babysitter in this story, now a happily married woman and the memories came flooding back. These are real events, as I remember them. I can't recall the dialogue word for word of course, but the flavour of it is as near as I can get.
It may be worth reading CH1 first, but there are enough references to it in CH2 to make it a stand- alone story if you wish.
As in CH1, this is the background to the time and place.
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This story is based on real happenings that took place in the mid 1980's in the United Kingdom, when the internet was barely an infant and not available to the majority of individuals. As for mobile phones, they were huge, solid, brick-like blocks weighing over two pounds and were owned by only the very wealthy. This meant that knowledge of sex was gleaned mostly by looking at adult magazines aka Playboy, Hustler and so on which were often bought by older brothers or sisters. Certain books like 'Tropic of Cancer' that were 'borrowed' from someone's father's collection also worked a treat. Hearing playground chat amongst more or less 'informed' friends, proved popular too.
Finding out officially what 'sex' was all about was mainly limited to the teachings of the Biology teacher who, if he/she was confident, would talk you through the reproductive cycle of humans or if not, would tell you how frogs and newts reproduced (not very useful and definitely not very sexy!). Boys and girls were nowhere near as mature or knowledgeable about sex at age 18 compared to many of today's 14 or 15 year olds, thanks mainly to the multitude of internet 'information' that can be accessed by anyone that can type 'sex' into a search engine.
All of this is to set the scene for you, to make you aware that in the late 1970s, early 1980s, unlike the present, many boys and girls at age 18 were considerably naïve when it came to actual sexual encounters and in the UK (as is now) anyone over the age of 18 could buy and consume alcohol.
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It was about ten days after the first incident that we needed Cassandra to babysit for us again. My wife who was a nurse had again picked the short straw and was working a full night shift, which coincided with one of my late shifts, that didn't finish until around 11pm. On the last occasion when I had arrived home, we had had a drink together and following an increasingly intimate chat, things had got a little out of hand, resulting in some heavy foreplay that probably shouldn't have happened. Although she seemed fine when I eventually drove her home, I was a bit concerned about how she might feel now, having had some time to think about it.
I remembered that Cass had asked if her boyfriend could occasionally keep her company in future and I had agreed, albeit reluctantly, on condition that she promised to make sure she was not distracted from her main job of making sure the children were ok. Having only just turned 18, her mom was strict with her, and we had agreed that it would be better if she wasn't aware of the arrangement. I assumed that he would be there with her this evening and would take her home once I arrived, so any lingering awkwardness would be avoided.
I was surprised therefore to arrive home about 11:15pm and find no other car on the drive. I opened the front door and went inside to find Cassandra sitting on the sofa in the living room with the lights dimmed, watching TV alone.
"Hi Cass," I said, in my best, normal, 'nothing ever happened last time' voice, "is everything ok?"
"The children are fine and fast asleep." she said, a bit subdued, "they have been no trouble."
"Thanks Cass, that's great, I will just go and check on them and then I'll take you home," I said, turning and quietly walking up the stairs.
We trusted her with the children, so as I expected, they were just as she had said. After watching them in their untroubled sleep for a few moments, I closed the door quietly and walked back downstairs to the living room. I turned the lights up a bit and sat down on the far end of the sofa and looked over at Cassandra.
I took in the sight of her, dressed in a white, short sleeved shirt and a tartan mini skirt, that I noticed was certainly 'mini', as I could see a good deal of thigh. Although something seemed not quite right with her. It looked as if her eyes were a bit puffy and slightly red and although she was looking at the TV, it was clear she was not really engaged with the programme. She seemed to be shaking slightly too.
"Hey," I said, "are you ok, are you not feeling well?"
"I am not sure I want to talk about it Pete." she whispered, and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
"Has something upset you?" I said, immediately beginning to wonder if it had anything to do with our last encounter and what she was thinking. Also, she had never called me by my first name before and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
"I don't know whether I should say anything," she whispered again.
"Say anything about what?" I nervously asked, certain now that she had thought about what we had done last time and had had second thoughts. "Com'on Cass what's the matter, I can see you are upset about something," I said gently.
There was then one of those pauses where I could only hear my heartbeat and the drone of the TV in the background, my heart was beating faster and I felt my stomach tightening up, thinking of the repercussions if she had decided to tell anyone. I rode out the silence and wait for her to speak.
After what seemed like an age, but was probably less than a minute, she said quietly, "It's my boyfriend."
"Your boyfriend," I repeated like a parrot, letting out the breath I didn't know I had been holding, "what about him?"
"Well, you know you said he could come and keep me company here occasionally."
