Helen... Ch. 14

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A young woman's discovery of her sexuality.
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Part 14 of the 18 part series

Updated 10/27/2022
Created 01/11/2009
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Sienna
Sienna
142 Followers

When Helen arrived at the university psychology institute, there was a crowd of students bustling around the notice board "What's happening?" she asked a fellow colleague. "Why is there so much fuss?"

"It's Professor Lord. He's dead."

"What?" She pushed herself through the gathering students to read the notice board which explained that the professor was no longer available due to death of 'uncertain' circumstances. She wondered what caused it to happen so suddenly. Perhaps a heart attack, or a disease he had been keeping a secret? Whatever it was, it made her feel sad inside despite the knowledge she had learned about him and his weird past. The so-called games she and David played, but most of all, like the other students, she would miss his tutorials that were made clear, concise and interesting.

"Didn't' you have this thing with him?" One of the other students asked. A girl with dark hair and steely blue eyes, renowned for spreading rumours of half truths around not only the institute, but the whole university.

"No. Who told you that?" Helen asked.

"Oh nobody in particular. It was just something I was told. They said it was suicide."

"Who said it was suicide?"

"I spoke to one of the bobbies who came to announce it to the dean this morning." The girl replied with that evil grin that Helen despised. She dismissed it has rumour. Suicide was impossible, or she assumed it to be. David had lots of interests in life with his experiments, the manor and his lesbian lady friend, not to mention his passion for the hawks and teaching his subject. He seemed happy, but then she realised that she was a threat to his reputation too. All tutorials were cancelled until further notice. A replacement had to be found.

It was an opportunity for her to return home and clean up, removing all signs that she and Harry were having passionate sex. Jack was due home that evening. It had been a while since she had seen him. His regular phone updates were too short and quick to know exactly what he was doing in Paris.

Harry was at old Bill Firman's house where he lodged. Market was closed that day and old Bill was Harry's landlord for want of a better word, a fellow marketer who was legal, whereas Harry was not. It was important for him to keep a low profile when working, passing on his profits to old Bill, who kindly returned them without deduction of tax. He relied heavily on Bill now for trying to improve his lifestyle and atleast make something worthwhile of his life. His main objective was to find the right partner, but as always his habits of casual sex when he could find it ruled his life. Long term relationships became boring and someone like Helen was the closest girl he had to his ideal lover. Secretly he was beginning to fall in love with her. Not only was the sex good, she treated him good and he felt security when he was with her. Thing was, she loved someone else.

Old Bill was almost hitting seventy and still as strong as an ox. He was a man who defied all medical advice. He smoked; he drank in moderation and endured all kinds of extreme weather. As a youth he had run away to join the merchant navy and pretty much saw most of the world in his time. Harry was becoming like a step son to him, and for a bullish man they both developed a kinship.

Bill laid a hot mug of tea on the low table for Harry. "What are you gloating about?" he asked. "This Saskia I suppose? She's run off with someone else I tell ya'. Not point in bothering yourself over a woman." He sat beside Harry on the couch with his dirty tannic stained mug of tea. "I never got married, engaged or even shacked up longer than a week with a bint. Fuck them and leave them I say." What old Bill did not realise was, Harry was doing exactly that since he was a teenager, old enough to seduce any girl he fancied.

"You know Bill? You're a dirty old bastard." Harry replied jokingly. Bill found his comment funny and laughed heartily. Harry was pondering not only the thoughts of Saskia and Helen, but also why Hoffman let him down. Or so he thought. He tried calling him on the phone for the umpteenth time.

All he got was a message simply saying; 'I'm busy!'

"Anyway, who is this chap you're trying to contact?" Bill asked.

"Oh some old mate who owes me a favour." That was all Harry wanted to say to describe the man who claimed to be an old family friend. And although it was not that many years ago since he was supposed to have met him, he still could not recall the occasion.

"Well, if he owes ya' money lad, then you needs to forget him. He'll be well gone."

Jack returned home later than expected. The heavy snow was causing delays. Helen greeted him with passion, pleased to see him again. They hugged each other, embracing their separation end. "I missed you so much." Jack said, taking her face in his cold hands. "And, I'm starving. Do you have any food?"

Their evening was the usual type of evening. Lots of sweetmeats and wine lay out before them on the table. Jack's favourite oysters, his aphrodisiac that always reminded of sex. Helen watched him swallow the contents admiringly. "I bet you missed me didn't you?" she asked with a seductive grin on her face.

"Of course, as always. Although unfortunately business did not go so well. I must try harder next time I visit. The family is good. We had a very good Christmas. It was good to see them again, despite the sad loss of..."

"Don't think about it my love," She put her hand on his. "These things always have sad attachments to spoil the occasions." Jack smiled with agreement. "You are back home now atleast. We can continue our lives together. Remember, our new start. Let the past go and look towards the future."

Jack leaned closer to her across the dining table. "You are so right. Let us make love."

Liam was a stocky man in his mid thirties. He had to be strong to do his job as a 'clean-up man' for Hoffman. It was the very early hours of the morning. He had just finished dragging the dead weight of Mick into the back of his white van. He was very tidy in his work. He had to be. He grabbed a garden rake from his van and carefully raked over the trails in the snow where he had just dragged four body bags. The whole thing took him two and a half hours in total. Packing up bodies, removing blood stains from furniture, walls and surfaces using his own mix of cleaning fluids. By trade Liam was a biochemist, but he had other interests besides researching the chemical functions of bodies, such as disposing of them for a reasonable fee.

He checked that everything was where it should be and returned to his van parked at the back alley of the O'Grady residence. He slipped out of his dark green coveralls, lightly blood-stained, but not detectable as being blood at a glance. He then removed his rubber gloves, throwing them and his coveralls into the rear of the van. To him the collection and clean up was completed. His detergents left no DNA traces or stains. The odd items, such as carpets and other woven materials were taken up for disposal. Lucky the O'Grady's had a mosaic kitchen floor. The whole task was a challenge to him, especially the next stage. Dismembering the remains and using a relative who was a fisherman to gradually dump various bagged up parts far out into the sea.

Helen lay back enjoying the relaxing feeling of Jack's fingers and tongue as he licked gently in circles around her clitoris and his fingers working her magic spot within. She had to resign to the way he liked to make love; there was no chance of her making suggestions or taking the initiative. Although his treatment worked well and this time it was gentler. She arched her back in response to her orgasm and Jack became excited as she came, pushing his fingers in faster still until she could take no more. He took his hand and made him stop, trying to be gentle about it. "I can make you cum lots more..." he told her. Helen did not want to cum more. She wanted to feel him inside. He obliged by removing his fingers, four in all, and they kissed and cuddled. Within minutes Jack began to fall asleep, maybe tired from his journey, and the chance of being fucked or her fucking him had gone.

The following morning Jack was romantic enough to wake her with breakfast in bed. His usual favourite, croissants, grapefruit and coffee, served with a red rose from the bunch he had brought with him on his return. She loved the attention that Jack gave her, but he made his quick escape to leave for his office, explaining how busy his day was going to be. As usual she accepted that he was busy with things she did not understand. It was what he did. Although she wished that he would give her more time to be together. An offer to visit Paris and have some fun would have been nice. It was obviously the last thing on his mind. No doubt he had another woman at work to play romance with, and no doubt that other woman joined him in Paris over the vacation period.

During the day Helen received a call from the dean's secretary. A new lecturer had been found to replace David. Helen recalled the name from a previous stand-in and hated her style and knew straight away her studies were going to get harder. A welcome call from Harry right afterwards made things feel better. "Hi my little love goddess, how was Jack last night?" he asked.

"I don't think I should tell you. It's personal." She replied with a smile. "Besides, I think he learned something from his French girl friends over there."

"I still think you should dump him and live with me. I miss you in, let's say, many ways."

"Oh dear, I think you are falling in love with me."

"To be honest I am." Harry replied. This made Helen think. Her long pause thinking of a reply was now significant. He wanted more than just a play mate. He was getting serious as there was sincerity in his voice, and Harry realised that he may have said something too soon. "Anyhow, heard anything about that kinky professor of yours?" He changed the subject rapidly.

"They found a replacement, some clap trap bitch I hate. Still we can't pick and chose these things."

"So you are back to uni again?"

"Tomorrow, yes."

"Is it safe to call around for coffee? I need to talk to you."

"Look, Harry, I know what you want to talk about, I think. I don't think it's a good idea for a few days. Let us both think about this love thing you have. You know it isn't possible right now." Helen made it clear to him, and Harry got the message.

"Sure, maybe your right. Just me, feeling a bit lonely and depressed with this bloody weather. My balls are freezing off standing in this snow flogging videos of movies that people saw over Christmas. You know, the old family favourites, and I need a shag."

Helen laughed. "Sounds like you're desperate?"

"Oh babe. You know I'm desperate. I can't stop thinking about you. I'm as jealous as fuck of your froggy guy. I really do need time out with you."

"Well that might be impossible. I'm due my monthly and I'm not taking any chances of spoiling things."

"I've heard those excuses before." Harry said and then laughed it off, just in case it was true and he knew how sensitive women can get about those things. A blow job can turn quickly into a nasty bite job, something he had experienced a few times in the past. They quickly changed the subject of conversation about the weather an how old Bill was looking after him like a son. He explained Bill's history and how tough he was for his age. That reminded her of her grandfather who was still running around somewhere in the world, or atleast she assumed he was. Notification of deaths in her family often came late or never.

After a long this and that conversation, they bid each other goodbye. Harry flicked his phone off and turned around to serve what he thought as a customer looking through the stock on the counter. It was not a customer, but Hoffman. A welcome or unwelcome surprise? It did not matter. Hoffman grinned and lit up a cigarette. "Pleased to see me as well as the voice of your latest lover?" he asked.

"Where the fuck have you been? And what's going on?"

"I've been busy. And what is going on is my business." Hoffman replied. "Don't ask about the apartment I gave you, its still yours remember. You have the deeds and I thought you would atleast have moved back in."

"Why did you strip it down? No furniture, nothing."

"That unfortunately was something I needed to do. Let us say, to save both our arses."

"And the other favour, what about that. Who killed Saskia?" Harry asked, annoyed with his visitor. "I should be reporting this to the cops."

"Don't even think about it. The O'Grady bunch are now gone you'll be pleased to know, including your old bruiser, Mick. He was a tough one. Not easy to lie to rest. And if you must know the truth about Saskia, then it was her who brought you and I together. Let's say she was one of my jobs that needed dealing with. She had enemies and they paid a good price."

"You evil bastard." Harry replied. "All that shit about knowing me was a fucking lie."

"I'm afraid so chum. Cutting my own hand so I could meet you two in hospital wasn't really my style, but it worked. It's healed up nicely now." Hoffman raised his hand to show Harry the scar. "Another thing, someone put a contract out on your present girl friend. So coincidental, yet these things happen. But don't worry, all that has been dealt with too. I hated the person who gave me the job. Another perverted twat."

Harry thought for a while, put two and two together, came up with four and a half and assumed it was the professor perhaps? "So now everything is done?"

"Not exactly. I spoke to Martin O'Grady a few times, sizing up the situation. I told him that I stole his money and hid it in the apartment, to coax atleast one or two of his boys there. Of course you know about that. Must have been very cold in that cellar with Mick for company? Hope he didn't hurt you?"

Harry could not believe how cold Hoffman was, but clever all the same.

"So where does the not exactly come into it?" Harry asked. Hoffman finished his cigarette, dropped the butt and crushed it into the frozen ground. "What other freaky coincidence have you got?"

"Mick. He wasn't as silent or mad as you think. While I was working on him he realised what was going on. Gave me his credit card and pin number willingly to spare his life. I took it obviously, but that was no good. The job had to be done. His last and final words were; 'Get the person who made you do this to me.' And so I checked his account. Eighteen grand. Not bad I thought. I like to oblige a dying mans requests if it's possible. So, you are the one. Best quote I've had in a long time."

"Wow! You can't be serious?"

"Seems so. But then I thought. I've done my quota for this area, made some nice profits, went against my usual style a few times, and a few dead bodies' last wishes and requests could be added to those changes. So don't worry Harry. You're safe, and so is your girl friend. Call it an additional gift to go with the apartment."

Harry was atleast relieved. Hoffman was evil though and Saskia did not need to die. "You could have left Saskia out of it," Harry said. "You could have made allowances or something."

"Not possible. That one had to be completed or else I would have been on someone else's job list. And not the kind of people I like to annoy. Saskia got herself into big trouble, hence the relocation by the police. It took me a long time to find her which earned me a bonus."

"Big trouble? That bad eh?"

"Still, let's not go into that. You are alive, be thankful, I'm pretty efficient."

"You enjoy singing your own fucking praises too I see?"

"If I don't, nobody else will." Hoffman pointed at Harry. "Look after that apartment. If you don't want it put it up for sale. They go for really handsome prices these days." And at that, Hoffman smiled and walked away without a word of farewell. Harry was not sure if he was relieved to be alive or still angry about Saskia. She did not seem to be the kind of girl to be in trouble that bad. The police tended to find places of safety abroad, not in the same country they lived in for really serious trouble from a mob of some kind. Maybe Hoffman made a mistake somehow? Maybe he found the wrong girl? Saskia then being the wrong person on his list. Harry this time came up with the correct answer.

Just two minutes later, there was a loud scream from further down the market, which drew everyone's attention. He went to investigate. There was a crowd gathering around the car park entrance and he pushed his way through. Lying on the ground with his throat cut was one dead contract killer.

Sienna
Sienna
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Helen... Ch. 13 Previous Part
Helen Series Info