Helen... Ch. 02

The material of her black thong appeared to Jack like the gateway to heaven. His fingers drew across her inner thighs like the claws of a cat tamping for comfort, feeling their smoothness. All that he could do was touch and look as her open thighs revealed what he desired. For Helen the waiting was part of the game, the foreplay. She liked the idea that Jack was in control of what was happening and going to happen.

Slowly, Jack unfastened the cords one by one. The material fell away to reveal her sex, and the partly open gate. No hair, no blemishes. His fingertips gently caressed the puffy rise of her inner lips, still nubile and virginal, although he had been there many times before. All that Helen could do was lie back, head on pillow and arms stretched, waiting. His finger slowly opened her outer lips to reveal more of her sex. The pink folds of her inner and moist lips that held their sweet musky aroma that enticed him to go further, to open them and softly play within, seeking out that final gateway that was already open and dilated by her expectancy.

Helen gave a sigh of pleasure as Jack ran his fingertip over the hooded clitoris, swollen to its fullest acclaim. She was small and endowed with only the smallest clitoris that still gave as much pleasure to her than any other size, larger or smaller. Infact, size did not matter when describing that button of pleasure, the female penis. And Jack was the expert in pleasing slowly, as he opened her lips wider to reach in and lick gently with his tongue. Helen at that moment began her journey to ecstasy. Everything was physical and no longer imaginary. His tongue touched like she always liked it, teasing her, sending her on that much-desired trip.

His tongue slip down to find its way into her vagina, curly and twisting as it probed deeper, the tip of his nose just applying enough pressure upon her clitoris to keep the pleasure growing. Soon his tongue was replaced by one finger, then two, massaging and stimulating her within, continuously and with ever increasing gravity, using his tongue to play upon her pleasure button, teasing it from its protecting hood of skin. Within a few minutes, Helen reached her first climax. Her moans signalled to Jack that his job was being done well, but not yet over. Helen needed more and more to feel satisfied. Each climax grew more intense until she finally reached the ultimate one. Jack watched her; now using fingers inserted and thumb upon her clitoris. He liked to see the pleasure upon her face as she rode the waves of induced ecstasy, her liquid love spilling over his fingers until she could take no more.

It was now time for him to feel the physical pleasure. His cock was hard and stressed as if every second beforehand encouraged his desired needs. Its finely smoothed head was exposed atop a lengthened shaft of skin, revealing its veins and almost blemish less skin, dark with the natural tone of his gallic skin. Slowly he entered her as he elevated above her, supported by his strong muscular arms, their lips touching in playful kisses, growing ever passionate. It was the kissing that Helen loved so much as his cock thrusted with ever increasing vigour as their gasps broke their kissing until they could no longer hold them. Jack began to use his tongue to lick her neck and face, adding pleasure to the feel of his hardness. His actions inevitably brought him to the point of no return, all normal senses lost in a swage of emotion as Helen felt his warm spurts within her as he moaned out in pleasure, still pushing the final drops of his seed ever deeper within her.

They had temporarily forgotten the accord they had made. He was never to come inside without protection. Helen was the first to realise what had happened as she looked at him, recovering the normality of his breathing with closed eyes as his orgasm waned away, bringing him slowly to a state of tranquillity that matched her own.

"You said that you would never cum inside of me," she whispered. Jack opened his eyes and looked into hers. He then realised this and wondered if that mattered afterall. "We have no protection."

"I know that. But I could not stop myself. Forgive me."

The thoughts of consequence began to play in her mind, becoming more serious the more the pleasant feelings subsided. Those thoughts made her think of her older sister, who had a child, wanted, yet not in the right circumstances that she and the rest of her family wished for. A lover had left her child fatherless, missing without a care for what he had done. Helen did not want the same to happen to her.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed and lit his cigarette. Helen remained in her place, lying beside him still in deep thought. "It will be fine," Jack said. "Let's not think about these things and spoil the moment." Helen listened and wondered if his comments were justified. Maybe he was right.

During their previous encounters, Jack would come onto her belly so that she could admire his creamy charge spill onto her skin, warm and thick. That was part of the pleasure to her. Now she had consumed it within as his sperms invaded her. Never before had a man come inside. She was always careful until now. And she knew that Jack had other lovers elsewhere, which she did not mind. Her thoughts on those matters were always open.

They showered together like always. It was full of play and bodily contact, a post sex game that they shared, kissing and hugging, swapping innuendos and mildly accepted dominance that could always be equalised. They were at Jack's apartment and Helen left the shower cubicle to accept a text message on the phone. It was from Harry:

*Where are you? I need to see you again. I still want to fuck you. You make me hard*

It seemed that Harry had become another admirer with ambitions. Their encounter the last time had made him think. The message was blunt and it could also be a teasing friendly joke without intention. But Helen knew there was an underlying motivation that only needed her to say: "Yes, take me, I'm yours." She did not reply.

"What was that? A message from your strange professor?" Jack asked, stepping out of the shower. She had mentioned everything to Jack about their conversation at Lord's cottage, and how she had to brave the darkness of night walking home. "He is kinky," Jack continued wrapping a towel around his waist. "You should report him. He might turn dangerous and hurt you or somebody else."

"No. He is ok. I think he just wanted to express his fantasies."

"Yes, but he has already man slaughtered his own wife, accident or not. He was lucky to have gotten away with it." He embraced her naked thighs from behind, finding the erogenous spot at the nape of her neck and shoulders. Helen began to feel the tingles as she thought about Lord and if he would carry out his fantasy by surprise. Would she be able to play along with it?

Jack's hands reached around to hold and cup her breasts. Helen felt her desires growing again, as he gently tweaked on her nipples, pulling them between thumb and finger, coupled with his caressing kisses on her neck. They had just showered and although more sex was ideal in her mind, there was another time soon, but not then.

"I must go." She pulled away from his advances, feeling his cock rising under the towel. "I have things to do before I go to bed."

"Wait! You can stay here with me. I will change the sheets and freshen the bed. You know you are quite welcome." This was something he wanted. He wanted to have her next to him whilst falling asleep and waking the following day. Helen however felt intrusive by doing that. She would love to move in and escape the hovel of her dingy student bed-sit. But Jack had other lovers and she might get in the way. One night would be the start of forming that "live-in" situation.

The following morning on her way to university, Helen sheltered from the rain by calling into a café and ordering a cappuccino to take out. Sitting at a table was Harry. They both noticed each other and he waved to gain her attention. Helen joined him, looking out of the window at the increasing intensity of the rain.

"Bad morning," Harry pulled up a chair. "But not for ducks."

"Not at your stall this morning?"

"Not yet. I have my mates sorting it out. You know me, always in charge, always on top of everything, except you..."

"Is that wishful thinking?" Helen sipped her hot fresh coffee and forced a smile.

"Give me half the chance and find out where it leads."

"I got your text."

"You didn't reply. I was hoping you would. I think you and I would make a great couple, sharing my big house. Imagine the friendship we would have, and also the sex..."

"You are very forward with your... attitude regarding me. What makes you think I'm so easy?"

He pointed his finger at her, a marked habit he had. "You know you want my friendship. I can give you everything you want and you know it."

"Could you take rejection?"

"Should I? I never get rejection."

"Never ever?"

"Until now." He smiled at her and she returned it. Somehow this man was growing on her. She liked his wit and business-like brashness. He appeared to be a true salesman and trying so hard to sell himself in his efforts.

The rain outside was stopping as the sun broke through to lighten up the street. "I'm late, I must go." He grabbed her wrist, gently holding her back, as she was about to leave. She was beginning to wonder if all men did that. An act of dominance.

"I'll pick you up later. What time?" he asked. She thought a while and decided his invitation was good. She needed to know more about this market Valentino, with his expensive black leather jackets and swept back blond hair. It could be in her interests, that is, if he was telling her the truth about his friends house and his real status. She agreed.

Lord was in his office as she walked down the corridor towards her tutorial. She stopped to gaze in at him as he sat behind his desk writing his notes, and then moved on. The same unanswered questions entered her mind: would he do it? Would he dare to even rise to the challenge that she gave him and would she enjoy it? There was something deep inside her mind that wanted him to atleast try. It made her feel aroused, the thought of being raped by a man like Lord, even if it was only pretend. He was well endowed and knew that he could get hard. Hard enough to satisfy.

The accident with Jack that morning would be nothing compared to what Lord might do. It was going to be rough and instant. Would a man playing out his fantasies in such a away use precautions? This made her think again, igniting the worries she had about taking chances.

Harry was waiting outside the university campus in his battered and dusty saloon. They both caught each others eye and Helen made her way towards her possible new landlord. She had questions to ask about the security of living at his friends' house. Giving up her bed-sit would mean she would become homeless if it all went wrong.

"Get in, quick!" Harry told her, nervously looking through his rear view mirror. As soon as she sat beside him and before she could fasten her seat belt, Harry put his food down on the accelerator and drove at speed down the road. Every few seconds he checked his rear view. "Bastards!" he shouted, hitting his hand against the steering wheel. "I knew I should have sorted them out."

"Who?" Helen asked, concerned about what she had gotten herself into.

It's ok, nothing for you to worry about. Just some one I know."

"Are they chasing us? You're going to get us both killed."

"No chance, I'm a fucking good driver. I have to be."

He was obviously running away from somebody. As soon as the car joined the traffic turning onto the main road, whomever it was following was gridlocked far behind. It was now a case of dodging their way out of the situation. "Look, I didn't need to get involved in your...shit." Helen snapped. "I'm only going to look at this house of yours."

"My mates house. The one in South America."

"Wait. You told me it was South Africa. This friend of yours travels the world a lot."

"Does it matter?" As soon as they had a green light, Harry nudged his way onto the main road following a line of other cars, hoping that his pursuers would be stopped by another change of traffic signals. It seemed to work and he began to drive normally in the evening rush hour.

The question; "Did it matter?" deserved an answer, but Helen decided to leave it. The less she knew at that moment in time, the safer she considered herself. No more words were exchanged during the rest of the journey. Harry kept on taking sneaky gazes at her thighs and she could feel his eyes upon her. Soon they reached the suburb where the house was situated. It was within a professional class area of town. The houses had well kept lawns, neatly paved driveways and leafy borders. The houses themselves look quite spacious and expensive, each to the owners ideal variant designs.

Harry turned his partly battered car into a driveway and stopped a few metres from the front door of the house. Helen stepped out and looked at the house. It was slightly smaller than the rest, but still it was "posh" in her way of thinking. Not what she expected to find.

Harry opened the front door and let them in. Helen was surprised at the sparseness of the furniture in the lounge. Just a settee, low table stacked with adult magazines and a tv set. He watched her as she moved into the empty dinning room and then the kitchen, checking for the usual greasy and dust surfaces. It was fully equipped with the usual requirements. She inspected the cupboards and draws to see if they contained crockery and eating utensils. Surprisingly they were. Then she checked the refrigerator, which was empty apart from half a carton of milk. "You live a hungry life I see."

"Not always here. I eat wherever I can. So what do you think? Can you turn this into a home?"

"It already is someone's home. What's upstairs?"

The bathroom contained a shower, washbasin and toilet. The basics, and nicely decorated in pink. There were four spacious bedrooms. Only two had beds and wardrobes. The others empty apart from the usual accumulated dust and spiders' webs in each ceiling corner. Again, Harry followed her around, looking at her, perving her body with his eyes. He liked the way she dressed, leaving hardly anything to the imagination. A thin blouse that emphasised her breasts, small and yet firm. The short skirt, which exposed a lot of her toned thighs and legs, athletic, yet perfect in his eyes. There was no doubt that he wanted her. And Helen loved to tease and lead on, taking chances with a young man who was still a stranger.

She was beginning to like him, warm to his personality and astonishing good looks. However, the escape in the traffic made her wary of just what the market trader was involved in. Nobody runs away like he did from "mates" who did not mean trouble.

"Well, it's up to you. You can share my bed or use the spare. I suppose you will need your own room. Then again, I can still let you sleep with me." Harry said. He moved closer to her as she listened to him, looking out of the bedroom window and into the rear untidy garden below. Harry put his hand gently onto her buttocks and squeezed. She did not take much notice of him. What she saw in the garden was more concerning.

"What is that?" she asked.

"My hand."

"No, not that. In the garden, down there."

Harry took a look beside her, moving the net curtains to oneside to get a clearer look. What they both saw was unexpected, especially to him. He lived there and it was the first time he had noticed. The object was atleast two metres tall covered by a canvas sheet. "That wasn't there yesterday. They've put it there recently. The bastards!"

He ran downstairs and into the rear garden via the dinning room. He looked at it as Helen watched from the bedroom window. He nervously bit his thumbnail, hesitating, before pulling off the canvas sheet revealing the pure white alabaster statue of a Venus de Milo, a copy obviously, but a perfect replica of the real one. "No! I told them not to bring it here! Fucksake!"

Suddenly Harry heard the distinctive sound of his car being revved up at the front of the house. He hastily made his way through the house to notice his beloved saloon turning onto the street from the driveway. Three youths laughed, jeered and sent abuse to him before driving away. Harry was furious. Then another car drew up at the driveway with one driver winding down the window. He knew the man inside and Harry became aware of who was behind the theft. "Harry boy thanks for letting us know where you live. From now on, you had better watch your arse!" shouted the bald rough man before driving away.

Harry stood on the driveway, cursing himself with hands on hips and thinking of what to do next. Helen stood behind him in the doorway, arms folded, wondering if things could get worst in such a pleasant leafy suburb. Harry tapped out a number on his phone and the call was quickly answered: "Kenny, I have problem here. The O'Grady's have just stolen my car..."

Helen watched as he pranced up and down the drive, oblivious to his conversation with whomever on the phone. It was not her business to get involved that was until she realised something. "Oh fuck fuck fuck." She shouted. Harry finished his call and looked at her. "You are going to have to call the police." She told him.

"Why?"

"My bag is in your car. My books, my notes, phone...everything."

"I can't get the cops involved. No way."

"Then... how will I get them back?"