Dear Readers, this is a departure from my normal story. There's no Dani, getting embarrassed and humiliated by being naked in front of one or more women, or being persuaded to wear girl's underwear. This is a one-off story that I can't get out of my head and so I'm writing it out in the hope that that will put it to bed so to speak and I can then return to Dani's Adventures. The story contains sex between a man and a much younger girl, she and all other characters are though demonstrated to be over 18. I hope you enjoy. Dani xxx.
Zoe
"Dad?" my daughter put on that voice she uses when she wants something, down the phone. "You remember Zoe, right?" I racked my brains. Zoe was a blonde, a year younger than my daughter, they had met on some summer camp thing when my daughter was just turning 18 herself. Yep, I remembered her, they'd become good friends over the last 18 months despite the slight age gap and had spent my daughter's last college year socialising and making up for Covid lockdowns. I'd played taxi driver for the pair of them on more than one occasion. Zoe was intelligent, a bit more outgoing than my daughter, but still considered to be a 'sensible' girl. All this went through my brain in milliseconds as I responded to my daughter, Mary.
"Um, yeah, blonde girl a year below you, you met on some summer camp thing."
"Dad! You know very well who Zoe is. She only lives around the corner!"
"Yeah, alright, I remember her, what about her?" I wondered where this phone call was leading.
"Well, she's in her final exam year now, and she's struggling with one of her subjects."
"And?"
"It's Economics, Dad, she can't get her head round Accounting or something, you work with finance all day, right? So, I told her you would help her out."
"Help her out? How?"
"Dad, just explain to her, like you used to help me with Physics. I'm sure you'll be a big help. Anyway, I gave her your number so she can contact you direct and arrange a time. You will help her won't you, Dad?"
"Um. Well, yeah, um. Ok."
"Great, thanks Dad, you're the best." She hung up and I sat there thinking of Zoe. I mentioned it to my wife that evening as we sat finishing dinner.
"Oh, Zoe was so nice to Mary in the last year, she really helped her come out of her shell. If she needs a bit of help with Accounting then you should help her. Don't let it mess up our plans for the weekend though." At that the conversation was closed and the wheels were as they say set in motion. The next thing was an Instant Message to my phone the day after.
"Hi, Mr D. It's Zoe. Mary said she'd asked you to help me with some Accounting studies, would it be ok to come over?"
"Hello Zoe, yes she did, when are you free?" Of course, that was a mistake, I should have taken control and had her come over early on a Saturday morning, now I'd given her the advantage.
"I have a free period on Friday morning, no lessons until after lunch. Sort of sucks having to go in on a Friday afternoon, but that's how it is."
I should have declined, after all, I was working all week and could easily have said that I would be working Friday morning. The fact was though that I worked from home and my boss was very flexible, as long as the work was done, he didn't much mind.
"Oh, ah, ok. Sure."
"Great Mr. D. See you on Friday then, 10:00?"
"Fine, Zoe, see you then."
Thursday night saw me doing some preparation for Zoe's lesson. To be honest, I didn't know what part of the subject she had problems with. I always thought though it was best to be prepared to start from the beginning and then adapt any lesson to the audience. In fact, I'd taught basic accounting at work on many occasions to junior staff. Particularly those without a finance background or role, usually the sales team, and I had a few lesson plans tucked away that I dusted off.
As Friday morning dawned, I felt prepared and ready and was actually looking forward to sharing knowledge. Of course, the fact that my class was an audience of one and that she was a fit looking blonde, as far as I could remember, certainly helped. I followed our normal morning routine. Up at six am I pulled on my bathrobe, then I prepared breakfast for me and my wife. Next, I put her packed lunch together ready for work. Finally, I dressed in some running tights, a fleece and a waterproof and dragged the dog out for his first walk of the day. In honesty, it was the dog, Bob, dragging me round the neighbourhood for 25 minutes but I always insisted that no, I was in control, and I took him for walk. Only Bob and I knew the truth of it.
By 7:30 my wife gave me a big hug and kiss and walked out the door to drive to work. Bob, curled up on the kitchen floor and I had time to grab my own breakfast. It was a routine that worked for us and was an adaptation of the one we'd had when my daughter lived at home, the difference being I no longer needed to drive her to school at 7:30 and so now had time for breakfast.
By 8:00am I was working away at my laptop in the kitchen, breakfast eaten, dishes piled up at the sink; I would deal with them later, before my wife came home. I remained in my running gear as I usually gave Bob another long run at midday and only after that did I shower and change into jeans and shirt.
Time passed as I worked away, with the occasional chat to Bob and then before I knew it there was a knock on the front door. It was 10 o'clock.
Bob, of course ran to the door to see who our visitor was, I knew it would be Zoe. I opened the door with Bob in one hand and greeted her.
"Hi, Zoe. Come in, you remember Bob."
"Of course. Hi Mr. D. Hello Bob," she crouched down and gave Bob a big cuddle. She was still blonde I noticed; her curly locks flowed down past her shoulders. From my vantage point I had a great view down her chest and her C cup boobs were clearly on display, her white blouse unbuttoned enough that they showed plenty of cleavage but closed enough to contain them. She wore a short, no, a very short black mini skirt, white socks and a pair of Nike trainers. Don't ask me why I noticed they were Nike but being my own preferred brand, I tended to notice these things. My eyes were drawn back up from her shoes though, to her firm thighs, bent at the knee as she squatted with Bob, the skirt bunched around her bum. I could almost see her panties, but not quite.
Once reacquainted Bob lost interest, happy to know who our visitor was, he scampered back to his post by the patio door in the kitchen.
I ushered Zoe into the kitchen where Bob was already curled up on his mat. We both sat down on the stools at the breakfast bar and we started to talk.
"So, Zoe, you are struggling with Accounting?" I broke the ice.
Zoe explained that she was struggling with the subject as nothing really made sense and clicked for her. I suggested the lesson plans that I'd drawn up based on the ones that I used at work and immediately she seemed a little more enthusiastic.
My training plan assumes no knowledge of Accountancy, and explains the basics, which can then lead to more complicated scenarios, using a hands-on practical approach. I had knocked up some mock share certificates, bundled up some monopoly money and the idea was to play out the transactions practically and then sit down and see how that corresponded to actual accounting entries. I'll stop there with the details so as not to bore you all. Zoe though seemed to catch on to the approach straight away and things seemed to start to click. By the end of the lesson, we had a profit and loss account and a balance sheet and Zoe had a smile on her face as she realised that finally she understood what was going on.
