Helping Her, Saving Me

"Yes.... I suppose that's true."

"And you like it here. The library wouldn't have any customers if it wasn't for you." Even through her tears I could see her smiling a little. "The librarian will probably... go into mourning when you go. She'll wear like a black veil, and everything."

I laughed at that. "That's certainly over-stating it."

"Well... I think you should stay here."

"Pen... you won't be here! There's no reason for me to stay."

"I'll be here sometimes. And it'll mean -- I'll always know you're there, if I needed you."

Some more sniffles followed. I moved a little gingerly up the bed and reached out and stroked her hair. I thought she might push my hand away. Instead she reached up and put her hand on mine, wrapping her small fingers around me.

I felt a lump in my throat. "Pen -- you're a capable, strong, brilliant young woman. Your mum would be so proud. You don't need me -- or anybody."

"Maybe. But I LIKE having you there. Just in case."

"I'll always be... ready to come and help you."

"But I want here to be our home. And I think... it would be good for you too."

This was, of course, a silly, rather childish, crazy, indulgent idea. She was only saying it, I was pretty sure, because suddenly the reality of going somewhere brand new and strange was imminent and scary.

"Go to sleep, Penny," I said. "We can talk about it tomorrow." Then, without thinking, I bent my head and kissed her on the forehead.

"You'll at least think about it?"

"Yes. I promise I'll do that."

Back in my room I lay there on my bed, unable to sleep. Yes, it was a crazy idea. But... why did it appeal so much?

Just as the first rays were coming through the windows, I made a decision. It was all in the hands of two people, I realised.

And then, finally, I fell asleep.

**

The first call was easy, and greeted with enthusiasm. The second call I decided to make in person.

Belinda led me into the same kitchen area where we'd had our spat, all those months before. We chit-chatted about her trip and the girls going off to college. Ellie was also a student, but her college was much closer and she was still going to be living at home for the foreseeable future. Belinda said that was just as well, because if she found herself with both girls gone she would be beside herself with loneliness and worry.

"Actually, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," I said.

I told her about what Penny had asked me. I said the idea had some appeal. I wanted to support Penny as best I could for a little longer, until she realised she no longer needed me. And, yes, I did like it here.

"And... I thought maybe..." I trailed off.

"What did you think?"

"I was thinking of... going back to study. Do a degree at the local college. Part-time... it'll take ages. And I'll have to balance it with my work so I can pay the rent and everything. I spoke to Yvonne this morning about maybe her getting me an interview as a mature student, and she thought it was a great idea."

Belinda studied me, a faint smile around her lips. "Well, well," she said. "Rob Mark 2. The caring uncle and the industrious student. Who'd have thought it?"

"And I wanted to know... what you thought about it."

"You want my advice, Rob?"

"I do, yes."

She didn't speak for a moment, just stirred her coffee. "Do you want my advice, or my blessing?"

"I feel like... I can only do this, if you agree and... you'll help. I feel like this town is... your home, not mine. I know it sounds crazy, but... I wanted to know that you were OK with it."

"OK with it?"

"Yes."

She was still looking at her coffee. "Or did you wonder, after that little interlude a few weeks ago... if perhaps I might be interested... in something more?"

I felt myself going a little red, which I hated. "I guess... maybe that was part of it."

She looked up at me again, another long, speculative glance that made me feel as if she could see right through me.

"You've been honest with me," she said. "I suppose I should be honest with you."

I nodded.

"When you called me," she said. "I was naked. I nearly always am, when I'm here. And when you said you were coming over, I went to put some clothes on. Because I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

I nodded, though I wasn't really sure what her point was.

"And part of me resented that, Rob. That I had to change who I was, for you."

"I would have been fine with no clothes," I said, trying to make a joke of it.

She didn't seem to hear me. "But I'll tell you something interesting. I found myself picking out what I should wear for you. Nice underwear, though I usually don't wear it. This top, with just the right amount of cleavage. These jeans. They're a bit tight, but flattering, I've always thought. Do you like what I'm wearing?"

"You're beautiful," I said, and meant it.

She looked at me solemnly. "I'm going to take them off now. And, if you're serious about staying, if you're serious about me... you should get undressed too."

She slid off her stool and undid her jeans, sliding herself out of them with an easy, practiced movement. Then her top was off, and her underwear, and in what seemed like a blink of an eye she was standing beside me, completely naked and utterly lovely.

A little less smoothly, I began to undo my own clothes. I fumbled a little with the buttons of my shirt and she came closer and undid them for me. Her fingers brushed the skin of my chest and it felt like little sparks of electricity flew between us. As she tugged my boxer shorts down my swollen cock swung free and upwards in the cool air.

"Mmm," she said, and stroked me gently. "Hello again."

"I'd like to take you to bed," I said. "Please, Belinda."

Her fingers encircled me in that teasing grip I remembered so vividly.

"Yes," she said. "Please do."

**

Her bedroom was large and plush, with a huge double-bed neatly made with cool, crisp white sheets. I stood and kissed her and held her close, feeling my hardness pressed against her belly, her nipples and breasts crushed up against my chest. She moaned softly as I kissed her.

"God," she said. "I really need you so badly."

With other women I had always been a little selfish. I had used their bodies rather ruthlessly, focusing exclusively on my own pleasure, my own orgasm. They had mostly been drunken, sweaty, frantic joinings. The few girlfriends I'd had -- no relationship had lasted more than a few weeks -- had seemed perfectly content with my performance.

No, as I kissed Belinda, I felt a surprising nervousness. This felt much more important than any sex I'd had before. I realised I wanted to please her far more than I wanted to please myself.

"Tell me what you like," I whispered to her. "Tell me what you like, please."

"I like to be fucked," she murmured. "I like to feel a man inside me, taking pleasure from me, using my body as it was meant to be used. And I like to do this, Rob."

She sank to her knees and took me in her mouth. She looked up at me, a vision, her eyes gleaming as she sucked me. Her mouth was like an oven, and I groaned.

For a few minutes we stayed like that, her hands kneading my buttocks as she sucked me with a loving fervour that was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. She was almost in a trance, as if she was worshipping my cock, sometimes taking me out of her mouth and rubbing it against her cheek as if to reassure herself of its existence and hardness. Then she would take one of her hands and stroke me and cup my balls and run her fingers up and down its length before sliding me back into that welcoming hot wet mouth.

I'd never seen a woman so totally lose herself in the act of orally pleasuring a man. It was captivating. But I didn't want it all to be one-way. She was too important to me.

"Please," I said. "Lie down."

With some reluctance she let go of my cock and rose to her feet, kissing me quickly on the mouth. I could taste the faintest trace of saltiness.

Then she lay down on the bed in front of me, and spread her legs.

"Fuck me," she said. "Fuck me now, please."

But I wasn't quite ready to do that. Well, I was more than ready, but I had other plans first.

I knelt between her legs and kissed her gently around the tummy, then started to work my way down her body. The tops of her hips, so perfect and rounded. The inside of her thighs. Closer and closer to that perfect wet slit.

"Oh no," she said. "You don't need to do that... you can just... oh god!"

She broke off as my tongue flicked across her clit for the first time. I was gratified that her body convulsed as if from an electric shock. Her legs involuntarily tried to close themselves but I nestled myself lower and fitted more snugly between them, ensuring they remained open and nothing could stop me continuing.

I felt her hand in my hair.

"God that's amazing but you don't need to... oh fuck!"

I let my tongue answer her faint protests, working up and down either side of her entrance, relentless circular swirls, as my fingers first stroked her hips and then reached up to encircle her nipples.

I don't know how long we stayed like that. Two minutes? Five? Ten? All I knew was that I wanted to feel her orgasm burst onto my tongue, and until I did that I was content to stay there, feasting on her. Her body seemed to have surrendered to me now, and although her hand was still in my hair now it was pushing me downwards, guiding me. Her hips rose and fell as she sought out the friction she needed and craved and I tried to work with her, only occasionally teasing her by pulling my head away so the contact between us was momentarily broken. When I did this she whimpered and moaned but for now words seemed to be beyond her.

Eventually I felt the pressure building up within her. Her soft noises of pleasure began to change and became more urgent and insistent. The movement of her hips became faster and more rhythmic. I became more brutal in the use of my tongue, more forceful, and I slid one of my hands beneath her so I could lift her body up to meet me.

She came with a loud, drawn-out cry that was as lovely as any sound I'd ever heard. Her fingers squeezed my scalp and suddenly her body collapsed below me. I could feel her shaking. I lay there, proud and pleased and smug, as only men know how.

"Oh god," she finally managed. "Oh my fucking god."

It was my turn now to rise up along the length of her body and kiss her. My cock dropped deliciously down between her legs and her eyes widened at the contact.

"I want to fuck you now," I whispered.

"Oh fuck if you don't fuck me now... please god put your cock in me."

I eased into her. She was tight after her orgasm and she whimpered again as my cock slowly stretched her out.

"Oh I love how you feel inside me," she said.

"I love being inside you," I said.

"Fuck me hard, Rob. Use me. Just use me, please."

I had been intending to use a more gentle approach, wanting her pleasure to at least match mine with slow, gentle teasing strokes, but her words excited me and, in truth, echoed what I really wanted. So I began to slide heavily in and out of her, building the force and rhythm with each third or fourth stroke, until I was pounding at her with a force and ruthlessness that I could never remember using before.

I was worried that I would hurt her, but her arms were tight around mine and her mouth was next to my ear, murmuring and gasping encouragement and wonder.

"God yes fuck me hard just like this... it's been so long..."

I knew I wouldn't last long. My orgasm was approaching, very soon now, and I was greedy. I wanted to prolong this glorious feeling of being lost inside her -- in truth I never wanted it to end. But when I tried to slow down she scolded me softly and encouraged me with her hips.

"Next time," she gasped. "So many next times, Rob. I promise."

And with that I decided to let go. I hammered deeper into her, frantic, desperate, strokes.

"Oh fuck Belinda I'm going to..."

"Yes... come inside me... fill me up."

I exploded inside her. Just like the time when she'd masturbated me to orgasm on the table, it was almost painful in its intensity. A searing heat that consumed me, shooting out of me and into her even as it raced to every corner of my being. I felt my body shake -- once, twice, three times -- as my cock spat its tribute into her tight, welcoming body.

The next thing I can remember is the feel of a cool damp sponge on my groin. I opened my eyes and saw her, smiling a secretive little smile to herself as she cleaned me. Then she put the sponge carefully away on a bedside table and lay back down beside me, nestling herself into my shoulder as I put my around her. I kissed her hair.

"On balance," I said, a little faintly, "I think you've persuaded me to stay."

She kissed me back. "I was rather hoping I had."

We lay there for a long, lovely time, not needing to speak, just enjoying the closeness and the feeling of our bodies pressed together. Then we enjoyed a long, leisurely shower together where, I'm proud to report, we both brought each other to orgasm again.

As we were towelling ourselves off in the bedroom we heard the door slam downstairs.

"The girls are home," she said. "I should get some supper for them."

She hung up her towel and sauntered towards the door. I was admiring her body when I realised she was intending to go downstairs without a stitch of clothing on. And, not only that...

"Fuck!" I said. "My clothes are in the kitchen. You'll have to bring them up to me."

She turned slowly and looked at me. Her eyes were bright and devilish.

"Certainly not," she said. "Come just as you are, please. House rules. This is the new you, remember?"

With that she went out of the door, closing it behind her. I stood there for a few moments, listening to the sounds of cheerful conversation from below. I picked up my discarded towel and fastened it around my waist. I turned and regarded myself in the mirror.

Slowly but deliberately, I took it off again and hung it up beside hers. I opened the door. Then I took a deep breath and followed her down the stairs.

**

With thanks to VM and JR for proof-reading and very helpful feedback.