All persons engaged in sexual activity in this story, are over 18 years of age.
It is certainly worth reading the preceding five chapters first, to understand the full background. However, if you read Ch 5, you will at least get an idea of the story, although you will not understand how I got into this position.
As in previous chapters, this is the background to the time and place.
This story is based 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 were 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 now 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, boys and girls at age 18 were often considerably naïve when it came to real sexual encounters and in the UK (as is now) anyone over the age of 18 could buy and consume alcohol.
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Ch 6.
"Was Helen ok last night," my wife asked me the following morning when she got home from her night shift at the hospital.
"Yes, she was fine," I replied, non-committal.
"Ah good, it's useful to have someone consistent for the children's sake, I think it makes it easier on them if they already know the person, don't you?"
"Yes, we should use her regularly," I replied, trying not to sound too eager.
"Good, because I think we have a few shift clashes coming up and I want to book her in advance, to make sure she is free for them."
"That's a good idea, I'll leave it to you to arrange," I said, secretly looking forwards to Helen's next visit, although a bit nervous about whether she had given any thought or said anything to anyone about the last time she was here.
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Sure enough, towards the end of the following week, our shifts overlapped again, and my wife told me Helen was going to sit for us.
"It was a bit strange though," my wife said, "although it is a Friday night again, she seemed very eager to come and babysit rather than go out with her friends."
"Umm, well, maybe she likes the bit of extra money," I suggested. "or maybe, she just likes to be able to watch TV on her own, without the rest of her family squabbling for which channel to watch," I laughed.
"Yea, you could be right, I believe her parents are quite strict with her, so perhaps she gets a bit of freedom being here on her own. I remember what it was like at her age," she smiled to herself.
Hmmm, I thought, if she is eager, then there can't be a problem and she must have enjoyed what we did together last time, perhaps she is looking for more? That gave me something to think about and anticipate for the next few days.
Friday finally arrived, and I made sure that I left work as early as I could, so that I could spend the maximum amount of time with Helen if she chose to stay and chat this time.
I was about a half hour earlier than normal when I got home. I could hear the TV on in the living room when I came in through the door and could see Helen relaxing on the sofa facing it. She was lying full length, head propped up on her hand supported by her elbow on the sofa. Her long slim legs seemed to stretch almost the length of the three cushions, but I guess that might have been the illusion generated by her tiny skirt, that I was sure was shorter than the last one.
"Oh, hi Pete," she said, starting to sit up, "you're earlier than I expected."
"Hi Helen, it's ok," I said, "if you're comfortable, don't get up, I'll just go check on the kids, you carry on watching whatever it is, I won't be a minute."
"Oh ok, thanks," she said, "they are fine, been no trouble at all," she added.
I went upstairs and did my usual look-in at the children sleeping peacefully. I couldn't remember what it was like to not have any cares or worries so that they could sleep like that. I closed the door quietly and made a detour into our bedroom to pick up something, then went back downstairs.
She was still lying on the sofa, on her side, her small, white, button-up shirt ending above her belly button, leaving a gap of bare skin between that and the waistband of her skirt. The way she was lying, her long blonde hair was falling down behind her onto the cushion of the sofa, leaving her face clear.
I went and sat at the very end of the sofa, and she bent her knees, withdrawing her bare feet enough so that I could sit down. Now that I was seated, and with her knees slightly bent, I got a tiny flash of white underwear under that skirt, and already my cock was telling me how exciting he found her.
"How have you been, since I saw you last?" I asked, trying make some small talk to see if she just wanted to go home now that I was back.
She turned her head and looked at me with those devastatingly blue eyes, "I've been great thanks, after our 'chat' I decided to stand up to those so called 'friends' I told you about."
"Oh ok, has it made any difference?" I asked.
"Well," she hesitated, "only in so much as I realised that they didn't know much about anything, and that someone a bit older is more interesting," she said, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.
"Riiiiight," I drew the word out, "as I said last time, they will soon grow out of it and realise that 'impressing the girls' isn't really about belittling them, but about being friends and being interested in them," I said.
"That's more or less what my sister said when I spoke to her this week."
"You have spoken to Cass?" I asked, wondering what they might have talked about and how much she might have said to her about what we did.
"Yes, she called me to see how I was, and how I got on here last time," a slight smile passing over her sweet features.
"I see," I said, but not really 'seeing' at all yet. "And...ummm, what did she have to say?" I asked.
"Oh, this and that," she strung me along, "I didn't go into details, but I told her you had helped, and she sort of laughed."
"Oh, ok."
I knew I would never get to know exactly what they had talked about, and in what detail, but it looked as if Cass was still orchestrating something for Helen even from far away.
"She told me not to be embarrassed if I wanted to ask you more, as you would be discrete, and I could trust you. I thought that was quite a compliment considering you and Cass only 'chatted'," she said, sort of tongue in cheek.
"Err, yes, well, she was probably just being nice," I replied lamely. "Were you watching that," I asked, indicating the TV and hoping to change the subject, "or are you ready to go home now?"
"It was just one of those travel programmes, but I was lying here imagining I was on that beach they are showing there, with the sun warming my body."
"In a bikini, like that girl there?" I said, as a well-built girl, accompanied by an athletic looking man, sauntered across the white sands in front of the camera.
"Ha, ha," she laughed, "I couldn't wear anything as skimpy as that, 'cos, as you know, I don't have the body for it," she ended, wistfully.
"Nor me in what he's hardly wearing," I said, trying to be empathetic, "I mean, it looks uncomfortably tight," I added.
"Yea," she giggled, "it's so tight, you can almost see all his bits," she said, still giggling, "not that I know what they might really look like."
Was she telling me she had never seen a man's cock? I found that hard to believe, even if it was just the cock of one of those irritating boys in her year group, that she had told me about.
"You mean you have never seen one for real?" I asked, watching her neck redden and the redness flow up into her cheeks.
