Dear Helen

"Patient, I'd have thought," I replied. "What kind of fool was I?"

"A gentle one," she said. "Your girlfriends, they were lovely. You were sweet. I was envious."

"Not jealous?"

"No. You were my friend, a good friend. I was content with that, because it was what I had. I envied them, sure, but you paid me attention too. You had a way about you. When you talked to me, I was the only girl in the world, right at that moment."

"Undivided attention. You're not the first woman to say that about me."

"You paid attention, then? To those women?"

"I suppose I did."

"David," said Helen, "it's time you paid attention to me. Unlock this bloody door!"

"Helen! So hasty!" I did as she commanded, and ushered her through the door. I didn't know who was more eager.

She kicked off her shoes, and came back to me, her fingers on the buttons of my shirt.

And there she was, this slender, lovely woman, channelling her teenage years, but at the same time, showing the poise and grace of the sensible woman she had become.

"I suspect," she said, undoing two more buttons on her blouse to reveal a lovely freckled cleavage between two firm breasts, shown off in a sexy, lacy bra, "that I might be rather forward. What with waiting all these years. That won't shock you?"

"Helen, do I look easily shocked?" I replied, as I undid the last two buttons on the front of her dress. She shimmied it down over her hips, and stood there in her bra and underwear.

She was a little self-conscious, saying, "I'm not the pert young thing I once was."

"Helen," I replied, "you can bench press your own weight. I don't think you have much to worry about."

"I don't know much about sex, though. I've not been with many men." God, she was so honest.

I looked at her, went to her, and wrapped her tight in my arms, my arousal pressing against her thigh. "Helen, I don't think that matters."

We kissed again, longer this time, until again we needed to breathe. We stepped back from each other, and she pulled my shirt up and over my head, dropped it to the floor.

"You do it." Helen gestured at my belt. "I'll fumble."

I fumbled instead, in my haste, laughing at my own excitement, hopping from one leg to the other as I pulled my trousers down.

"God, shoes!" I quickly tugged at the laces, pulled my shoes off, and finished the strip. "That wasn't elegant, was it?" I stood before her.

Helen didn't care. She was looking at my thick, semi erect cock, hanging down my thigh.

"My," she said. "That's worth the wait. Does it...?"

She held my shaft in both her warm hands, and my cock quickly grew to its fully erect size.

"It does! Can I...?"

Helen didn't wait for my reply. She pushed up against me like a cat does, and placed my shaft up between her belly and mine, then wrapped her arms around my back, holding me tightly. Holding my body against hers.

She tilted her head up to me. "David," she said, then kissed me, kissed me hard.

Our kiss broke. "Helen," I replied, "I..."

"Yes. Silly man. Of course you can."

I have no idea what I was going to ask Helen, but whatever it was, she said yes.

I dropped down to my knees before her, my hands down her back, over her backside, down her legs. She shivered, goosebumps on her thighs, but it wasn't cold. Helen placed her hands on my head, to hold me to her skin but not guide me. I knew my way.

I kissed Helen's belly, the tautness of her muscle tight under her skin. She was tanned, with shadow marks from shorts she wore in the garden, and a tank top with thin straps. I imagined she wore a sensible wide-brimmed hat, to keep the hot summer sun off her face. The young Helen was less cautious, she was always a darkness in summer, going a deep rich brown.

The skin on her belly was silvered with a skein of stretch marks from her babies, like fishes. I traced my fingers over them, closing my eyes as I did so, to absorb the warmth of her skin into my fingertips, to trace Helen's song lines, to learn her body.

I took my time, enjoying this drawing of Helen. My cock was hard, firm between my legs.

"This is so lovely," she whispered. "Your slow fingers."

Helen ran her fingers through my hair. "Touch me," she said. I knew where she meant, and peeled her panties down her legs. She stepped out of them, and eased her legs apart, just a little. Helen and her quiet invitations. I heard a soft sigh.

I looked up to her face, but her eyes were closed, she didn't see my look.

"You're smiling," she said, "I can feel it against my skin."

I rested my cheek against her belly, then kissed the tidy trimmed patch of soft hair. I eased my mouth lower, cupping my warm breath over the place where her clitoris hid. She didn't say a thing, but held my head there.

I wandered my fingers up inside her thighs, easing her legs a little further apart, finding that first silky smoothness of skin, the plump lips of her pussy. I breathed Helen in, fresh, like a quick summer shower.

"I need to sit down," she said, "if you're going to do that to me, kiss me there. I'll fall over, I'm sure."

I stood up and took Helen's hand, and took her through to the bedroom, where she lay down on the bed.

"Much better, lying down. Why didn't I think of that?"

"I expect it's because you're always doing things. Lying on the bed would mean a snooze."

She smiled up at me. "Perhaps later. After."

She had such a simple, efficient way with words. Three words told a whole story, whereas I always needed hundreds.

"David, lie on me, let me feel your weight." She reached up for me. "Wait, let me take this off." Helen unclipped her bra quickly, as only women can, and lay naked on the bed before me.

I gazed at her slim body, tightly muscled, still her teenage weight. "Parked up, huh? Gone south? I don't think so."

I lay gently over Helen, taking my weight on my arms, and covered her face with soft kisses.

"This is so lovely," she murmured, again.

"You are," I whispered, and her eyes smiled into mine.

"I never do this," she said. "Make love during the day."

"Best time," I replied. "It's quieter, when the rest of the world is busy."

I moved my lips down to her neck, giving her warm kisses on her throat. I kissed a spray of freckles on her shoulders, both shoulders, then moved down to her chest, finding more freckles inside the curves of her breasts, like a delicate Japanese painting, quiet on a wall in the hall.

"Where are you going?" Her voice was soft.

"Down south. With stops on the way."

"I don't do that much," she said quietly, dreamily. "A slow starter, me." Her fingers gently stroked my arms, making trails. "Did you, with those high school girlfriends?"

"No," I replied. "I learned later, with university girlfriends, some long time lovers, what to do. They taught me."

There was a short pause, before Helen replied. "Good. I didn't miss out, then. At school." She chuckled. "Can we catch up?"

"Helen." I smiled with her. "So hasty."

"I know," she replied. "Very naughty. The things we do."

Then there was silence, for I'd found a pert nipple, then the other; and for some time I paid her breasts undivided attention. And all of the time, Helen traced patterns on my skin. Learning my flesh, I suppose, like I was learning hers.

In that quiet room, the song of birds outside, I slowly made my way south. My lips and kisses found her belly, her tight navel, a tiny faint trail of hair. I took my time with Helen, every now and then moving back up to kiss her, then moving down her body again, until finally I arrived where I wanted to be, between her legs, kissing Helen.

"Ohh god, that's lovely," she whispered, as I divided her lips with my fingers and kissed her, then covered her clitoris with my mouth, felt the little hard bud on my tongue.

Helen bucked under me, and I heard her breathing faster. I made myself comfortable between her legs, and pampered her there, all my kisses.

Her fingers in my hair stopped moving, then her hand left me, and I found it on the cover of the bed, gripping the cloth. I laced my fingers through hers, clasping her hand, pulling her to me. We joined our hands together as I kissed and licked her, my tongue sliding deeper between her lips. She shifted, spreading herself wider, and her hand held mine so tightly.

"We should have held hands at least," she said, her voice soft above me.

I had to kiss her, let her taste herself on my lips. I quickly moved up to her face, to kiss her again, to taste her wet kisses, to share the taste of her sex.

"Is that what I taste like? I didn't know." She looked at me with her dark, dark eyes. "Go down again, David, please... go there again."

I went down on Helen, because she wanted me there, and I remembered the words she'd written, it seemed so long ago: "A late bloomer shall we say. I had been an old 'spare' for so long I'd decided never to marry."

God, Helen! Did you really miss out on this? I determined to make up for lost time, and shifted on the bed, spreading her legs wider so I could kiss her deeper. I was rewarded with a moan, and both her hands tightened around my fingers.

"Oh my," she whispered. "You're very good at this."

I felt her body tremble. I disengaged one hand from hers and wetted my fingers in my mouth. I slowly eased two fingers into her, found that rough place, and beckoned her to me, my mouth slow and steady on her clitoris.

I quietly took Helen up into the sky, left her floating, heard her sighs; then with a firmer pressure, took her there. She came around me, her pussy hot in my mouth, her hands holding my head hard against her. I breathed her in, cupping her hot place with my open mouth, slow movements of my tongue to calm her.

"Oh god," she said, from a long way away. "I wonder if I can do that again?"

I moved up to her, cupping her sex like a hot little bird, and gave her my mouth with her taste. She kissed me slowly, kissing her scent from my mouth. She rolled, and clenched my hand between her thighs.

"Just so you don't get away."

I laughed. "Helen, do I look like I'm going anywhere?"

"Down south again, later?"

"I was thinking of going up north."

"What do you mean?" She felt my cock, hard against against her leg. "Oh. In me, do you mean? I've never called it up north, before!"

"You should have paid more attention in Geography. Playing all of those paper games. Who was that boy again?"

She laughed, and look so much younger. "You'd better show me, then. North."

She let my hand go from between her legs, spread them wider, and reached down for me. With a look of intense concentration, Helen placed my tip between her lips, then kissed me.

"You can show me now, if you like."

I eased myself slowly into Helen, looking into her smiling eyes until they closed.

"Oh god," she whispered, "oh god."

I sunk my length into Helen, and she wrapped her arms around me.

"Can you take a while?" she asked. "This is so lovely."

I'd been very slow with Helen before, far too slow, so it was only fair that I paid more attention to her now. Now that I knew what to do.

I moved in her slowly, finding the way her body took me, deeply, then more quickly. I found a rhythm that opened her eyes, then closed them; swayed her breasts then I cupped them.

"Oh god, oh god."

She placed both her hands above her head where I held them, then she dropped one hand to my backside and urged me further into her, "Ohh, there, there, ohhh... I've not..."

I made love to Helen, and there came a point where I couldn't stop, my orgasm building up in me, wouldn't stop. She sensed the vigour in me, knew I was going to come but wasn't sure when, then she too was nearly there, and our voices were calling, calling, and then, on the bed, I exploded into her, and somewhere I called out her name and she held me against her breast and Helen quietly came, her pussy clenching, her arms around me, holding me tight.

And then I was too heavy and she was a slender, slim thing, and I rolled on my back and she curled her body up against mine, and kissed my throat, and I held Helen close to me, until my heart slowed and she heard it.

"Your heart beat, it's so steady."

I smiled, and waited.

"Wait. It stops for a moment, then catches up. Has it always done that?"

"Must do. Pamela heard it first, and told me. I never knew, until then."

"There must be a reason. Do you worry?" Helen leaned up away from me, looked at me, shook her head, and lay on my shoulder again. "You don't look worried."

"I'm not worried, not any more."

Helen took my hand in hers, and placed it on a breast.

"There," she said, "you can hold me. Your hands are so warm."

"Have you warm hands too?" I asked.

"Oh," she replied, "you mean here?" And she cupped my soft cock in one hand, and we lay there in post coital silence, our bodies comfortable against each other. We didn't say much. Words seemed unnecessary, because we had each other for comfort.

After some time, Helen turned onto her front and rested her chin in her hands. She studied me, traced a pattern on my face with a fingertip, then asked, "David, now that you're older, what's your recovery rate like?"

"You mean, can I go again?"

She nodded. "I'd quite like to go north again, if we could."

It took a little longer, but that was okay, because Helen discovered she was quite capable of several orgasms, under the right circumstances.

"I never quite knew that," she said, in between coming the third and the fourth times. "But you, young man, how are you going? I did think you'd want a younger woman wrapped around you."

"You did. But then I also said you hadn't remembered yourself quite the same way as I remembered you."

"Remembering your younger self, huh? Well," Helen declared, "it certainly seems to work."

She arched her back and wrapped her strong legs around me, "To keep you there," she said, as if I had any doubt as to her intentions.

* * * *

A few days later, at the airport, we waited for my boarding call. After it came across the loudspeakers, Helen turned to me, kissing me lightly on the mouth.

"David," she said, "do you think it will rain again?"

"Probably. Why do you ask?"

"You might need to come up here again. You know, make your way north."

Helen, and her quiet invitations.

Just before I boarded the plane, I looked back to see Helen standing there in her burgundy dress. She waved, I waved back, and then we were gone, back to our own separate lives.

* * * *

Dear Helen...

© Electricblue66 2022