Toyboy

1986, Yorkshire, England.

Part one

Chapter 1

It was around 11am I received the phone call that turned my life upside-down.

"Edward, it's for you", my mother shouted from the hall. "A girl."

Who this mystery female caller could be, I had no idea. My mother handed me the receiver with that knowing wink only a mother could give to her son.

"Hello?" I asked as much as greeted the caller.

"Edward, hey it's me!" Came the cheerful female voice, my mind was whirring at computer speed trying to process the identity of the particular me in question. The full name Edward was definitely said mockingly, in a way as to mimic my mother, everyone I know calls me Ed.

"I give up, who is this?"

"My god Ed, have you forgotten me already?" The voice was becoming more and more familiar with every word.

"Kelly? Wow it's been a while!" I finally put a name to the voice, a talent that was never a strength of mine.

"Your first kiss," She said (not hers), "walking home from school that day in year 8, did it mean that little to you?" She feigned offence.

On the contrary, it had meant the world to me. She was the prettiest girl in my year group, I was overwhelmed and couldn't kiss her for more than a few seconds as it felt like my knees would give out.

We went on a few dates and kissed some more, but attention spans are short at the age of thirteen, events took their natural course. Kelly dated a boy from year ten and I had my first heartbreak. Five years had passed since then and Kelly was on the phone to me out of the blue.

"Anyway, it's been almost two years since we left school, what are you up to these days? Are you on a YTS? I'm on one, training to be a hairdresser at my mother's salon." Kelly went on.

The Youth Training Scheme was a government initiative. Many eighties kids left school and went on a YTS, it was a full-time job that paid around the same as unemployment benefit, but was intended to give the young person a skill for a career. What it did for sure was remove them from the streets and the unemployment statistics.

"Yeah, I'm in the steelworks. It's hot and hard work but I'm hoping they'll take me on permanently."

"So now we've caught up, I thought we should see more of each other", she teased, as though she were coming to a bigger point. "A lot more as it happens."

"Really?" I asked, still unsure as to the direction in which this conversation was going.

"The crazy old man next door to you, he died a few months ago, yes?"

George, bless him, was a generous old gentleman. He suffered from what we would now call Alzheimer's disease, but in 1986 he was senile, or plain old crazy. "Yeah, why?" I asked.

"My mother has split with my stepdad, we're moving in next to you." Kelly finally got to the point.

"That's amazing, Kel, when do you move in?"

"Tomorrow morning, we're packed and ready, I can't wait to see you, now we're grown up."

It was only two years since I saw her last, but at the age of eighteen, that seemed like a lifetime. I remember our final week in school, she was so popular and stunningly pretty, her light brown hair always had blonde highlights and the style seemed to change every week.

Simply, she was way out of my league, despite our kisses years before. "Take care, Ed." was the last thing she said to me with a kiss on the cheek when school was over for the final time.

And yet, here she was on the phone. She had kept my number all this time. It would be a welcome sight to see her pretty face over the garden wall. Garden is what we called it, back yard is what it was in reality. A faceless terraced house on a terraced street in the town of Trembley, Yorkshire, England.

Trembley was a small town that grew up around coal mines. The mines began to disappear before I was born and eventually disappeared completely. The town was lucky, we had a steelworks half a mile down the road, and a big glassmaking factory just beyond that. Many towns and their inhabitants didn't fare as well.

We said our goodbyes until the morning. My mother had been listening from the other room "Anyone I should know about?"

"Our new neighbours, Mum."

Chapter 2

The terraced house in which I, my two younger brothers and two younger sisters were born, was too small for a family of seven. My father was a truck driver and we only saw him at weekends. Consequently, much of the time I was the man of the house. The kids were growing up fine and with good manners. I took pride and a little satisfaction with my part in helping with that.

The loft had been converted into a fourth bedroom for me. For this privacy I was grateful. It was to there I retreated after the call from Kelly. Maybe now, I wasn't out of her league completely like before.

The hot, manual labour at the steelworks kept me slim and fit without the need to work out. The dark brown hair which had been curly (for which I'd been teased cruelly in high school. "Pube-head" I was known as), was straightening into more mature waves. I was confident that my dick, which nobody had yet experienced the pleasure of, was a good size, or at least average.

I wanted to imagine Kelly, seeing her every day. Maybe sunbathing in the back yard, in a small bikini, asking me to rub the sunscreen on her back and legs, rubbing it into her perfect ass cheeks, untying her bikini strap and rubbing all over her back as she moaned with pleasure. I closed the bedroom door and imagined some more.

Tomorrow came. I awoke to the noisy clatter of a truck's diesel engine and the whoosh of an air brake. Glancing at the digital clock, I saw it was 7:30. After a week of waking at 4:30am for the morning shift, even this time was three hours more sleep than I'd had since the weekend.

I rose and looked through the window. A large, yellow removal truck was parked outside, waiting for the new owners to arrive with a front door key to get them working. A light blue Ford Fiesta pulled up behind.

The driver's door opened and she got out. Long, dark hair tied in a high ponytail, wearing a white vest top and tight blue jeans, even from two floors up I could see she had a body to die for. I didn't know Kelly could drive, but then again, why would I?

There was a lot of knocking and clattering as the furniture and boxes were moved in by the removal guys and by eleven, the truck pulled away, its job complete. "Next stop - the pub", I heard one of the men say through my small open window from the quiet street below.

I took a look down, she was walking back in after waving them off, her hair looked darker than Kelly's was normally, but she always did have a different hair colour or style on a weekly basis. Kelly said once that her mother used her for salon practice, but she was a willing volunteer. I could only see her from behind as she disappeared from view, but I saw a perfect ass and waist, her hips were sensational. She was all woman!

I decided to seize the moment and go down to offer my help. Running down two flights of stairs and through onto the street, I was at her door knocking in a heartbeat. The old, wooden door creaked open and my jaw dropped. Holy fucking shit! I thought.

Chapter 3

Standing in front of me was the woman I saw from my window, a creature of incredible natural beauty and elegance. Quite tall, with a Mediterranean, olive complexion, sparkling blue eyes and a smile that would turn any man to a quivering wreck. I had to speak before I gave away what I was thinking.

"Hi, I'm Ed, I live next door. I wondered if you need any help. Kelly called me yesterday and said she was moving in, we were in school together. Are you her..." I didn't want to say mother, she was definitely in her 30s, maybe an older sister or relative, Kelly had told me she was an only child, but...

She interrupted at just the right time. "I'm Kelly's mum, pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you Mrs Simpson." I said formally like a Victorian boy on his best behaviour.

"Oh please, Call me Millie. Pleased to meet you too, Edward." Using my full name like my mother was disarming, and from the glint in her eye when she said it, that was a fact she knew very well.

I walked in through the entrance hallway, the house was joined on to ours. Inside, the layout was an exact replica. The décor was from the 1930s, cigarette smoke stained flowery wallpaper, garishly patterned carpet and that distinct stale smell you get when an elderly person has stopped taking care of himself. One thing missing was Kelly.

"Kelly said she'd called you and you might knock, I'm glad you did. A lot of this stuff needs two people to shift, there's only me. She's at her boyfriend's flat. She spends most of her time there, now. A devious one, our Kelly is, she looks all sweetness and smiles, but she will manipulate anyone into doing something just so she doesn't have to, the lazy old so-and-so."

Okay so I'd been tricked. But still, what the heck. There was lots of work to do and I had nothing else going on. Besides, and this surprised me somewhat, with her tight Levi jeans, lovely ass, incredible hips, and gorgeous, inviting breasts that were maybe slightly larger than average, although that might be a consequence of her vest top giving away plenty of cleavage. Kelly's mum was a right looker!

Millie was still talking. I guessed this was something she did well and did often. Kelly was getting into trouble with boys, drugs and shoplifting.

"I told her, I don't want you making the mistakes I made at your age, she promised she won't - and she hasn't. She's made different ones! Heroin, stealing from shops, going round with boys in stolen cars. All I did at that age was get pregnant and marry a dickhead, excuse my French." She hadn't stopped talking since she let me in.

"Anyway, do you want some tea?" She finally took a breath.

Late afternoon came and the smelly old carpet was in a skip outside, the couch was in position, washing machine, refrigerator and cooker all fitted and working. Beds and wardrobes in their correct place and a sweaty Millie and I slumped onto the brown leather couch.

"Thank you so much, Edward. I couldn't have got all this done without you. The beer should be chilled now. How old are you by the way? You have to be eighteen to drink alcohol." I laughed and reassured her I was eighteen and a beer would do very nicely. Millie slapped my knee playfully as she got up and returned with two cold Stella beers. We cracked them open simultaneously as if celebrating a victory.

"I'm sorry there was no Kelly, or if you feel manipulated into helping today, I know you and her had a little thing together in school."

"Millie, honestly it's been my pleasure." I said truthfully, "School was a long time ago anyway, things move on don't they."

"They sure do, you're not wrong there." Millie said knowingly. "How much do you want me to pay you for helping?"

"One beer. Maybe two. That's all I'll charge, any time you want."

Millie took a large gulp of Stella and adjusted her position to face me directly, she had that twinkle in her eye again and a cheeky grin as she put a hand in her hair and rested her elbow against the back of the couch. "Edward, will you do something for me?"

"Of course, what do you want?"

"Swear, say some swear words."

A bit of an odd request. "Okay what do you want me to say?" I didn't want to go in all fucks blazing, Millie's language had been impeccable all day, even when she broke a glass bowl on the hard kitchen floor, "Blast it!" She had cursed.

"Anything, you work in a steelworks, I'm sure the men are swearing all the time."

"Every other word." I said truthfully. "Shits, bastards, fucks flying everywhere."

Millie laughed loudly. "Oh my god that's hilarious, any C-words?"

"Yeah of course."

"Go on then say it."

"Crap." I teased. Millie laughed with a sudden spray of beer that she had just sipped, it soaked me. "Oh god Edward, you know exactly what C-word I mean, say it."

"Cunt, cunts flying everywhere. Cunt, fucking cunty fuck fucking shitty bollocks!" I let go.

Millie threw her head back and laughed. "Oh that's amazing Edward, thank fuck for that. I've been on my best fucking behaviour all day, I can fucking relax now."

Chapter 4

This woman was a bag of surprises. She reached up and pulled out the band tying up her hair and, with a shake of the head, her dark brown hair fell down her back freely. "People might talk if you stay here too long mind, Edward. Do people talk around here?"

"They are probably talking already!" I joked, with a hint of the truth.

"I'm old enough to be your mother, how old do you think I am then?"

The worst question a woman can ask a man is to guess her age. He can't win. My dad told me once, "Go for what you think, minus ten years to be safe."

On this occasion, it wasn't too bad as I knew Millie had to be older than she looked. "When you opened the door, my first instinct was you were an older sister of Kelly, however I was pretty sure she didn't have a sister, but my initial impression was about thirty."

"Ooh Edward, you know how to charm a woman. Add another seven years to that and you'll be there."

I knew I was naïve and inexperienced with women, but even I could tell Millie was being flirtatious. Her hand running through her long hair, body turned toward me, her breasts directly in my eyeline appeared to be inviting me in, knees up on the couch pressing against my thigh. Her dark blue eyes were sparkling, I was captivated. I turned my body to face her, subconsciously mirroring her body language.

"Do you care if people talk then?"

"People have talked about me all my life. Might as well give them something to talk about instead of them making up bullshit."

There was a silence. Not an awkward silence, but one where both parties realised what came next might have consequences. "You need feeding, my boy." Millie said suddenly, changing the subject. "Look at you, got to get some weight on that stick of a frame of yours."

She went to the local chippy and brought back a minced beef pie and chips each for the two of us and cracked open another beer. I could feel the beer making me a little light headed so the heavy food was just what was needed.

Millie talked about her past, her name was Emiliana Marianelli, she goes by Millie as it's "less pretentious for Yorkshire folk." Simpson was her first married name, she uses it so she doesn't have to spell it every time someone writes it down. She was born after the war in a village by a beautiful lake near Verona, Italy. There were no jobs and her parents came to England looking for work, which her father found in a Trembley coal mine. That was where he was killed in an explosion and her mother died an alcoholic when she was sixteen.

"I was young and vulnerable." She explained of her first husband, "He was no good, I can see that now. He would steal anything that wasn't nailed down. The only good things he ever gave me was a pretty kid and an easy to spell surname. He lived like a dickhead and died like a dickhead, sniffing glue to get a cheap high in Town Park."

She didn't say much about husband number two, who was very much still alive. He was older and a safe choice of man. "I haven't lived a life." She said, sadly. "In the late sixties, while my friends were enjoying themselves, I had a baby, a waste-of-space husband and no life."

Millie wanted her youth back. So now, here she was in a terraced house, starting over once again.

Her accent was fascinating, broadly Yorkshire, but with just a hint of an Italian flavour which she used for emphasis. She had me hooked.

"You're a good listener, Edward." She said, clearing away the newspaper wrapping that once held our hot meal. Mostly, I had no choice but to listen, Millie enjoyed talking.

She returned from the kitchen and sat beside me once more. "Time is moving on, Edward. You'll get locked out of your home if you're not careful."

I showed her my key and she opened a third beer. "This is going to my head, I hope you're not going to take advantage of me."

"As if I would, Millie." I laughed.

Millie gave a mischievous smile. "Do you really think the neighbours will be talking about us?" She asked.

"Around here, it's all they have to do, talk and gossip. They're doing it already, I guarantee you. The fact that you bought two portions of pie and chips will be all over the street by now." I joked, although it could be true.

There was another silence.

"So..." Millie began, "I asked earlier if you want to give them something to talk about? If they're going to gossip, it might as well be true."

I smiled approvingly. Suddenly, my heart was racing. Millie leaned across the couch and kissed me on the lips. It felt like a long kiss but was probably only five or ten seconds. She looked into my eyes and gave me a sweet smile. "Where did you learn to kiss like that? You're a natural." With that she got up, straddled me on the couch and put her arms around my neck.

Her boobs were an inch from my chin as I looked up into her eyes. "I want more kisses like that!" She demanded. It seemed that Millie was a woman who, when she wanted something, she made sure she got it.

Millie's lips were soft and warm. She was high enough to be kissing down on me and was firmly in control. Her sexy ass was at a perfect height for me and I held it tightly, feeling the firmness of her cheeks inside her jeans. This made her kiss me harder.

After a much longer kiss, she pulled up and released me from her lips. "I know you're a lot younger than me and I won't push you." I was kind of disappointed, but it was all a bit of a blur. She continued, "But, when I kiss you, I feel twenty years younger. That's a big feeling for me, Edward. If you want me to stop, I'll understand."

I pulled her back to me and our lips met once more. Passionately, Millie's tongue probed inside my lips as if searching for something. I was turned on like crazy and she ran her hand down to feel the ever-increasing bulge in my jeans. As she did, I took the opportunity to run my hands over her breasts, I could feel her hard nipples through her vest top and bra, I wanted to release my dick and fuck her right there on the couch. Just then she stopped and stood up.

"I'm sorry, Edward. You'd better get back, I'm won't take advantage of you. It's been a long day and..." She tailed off without finishing the sentence.

"Don't fall for me, Edward." Millie said after kissing me goodbye, "I'm on the rebound. A woman on the rebound makes poor choices, and you're the very fucking definition of a poor choice."

"None taken!" I said, feigning offence.

Millie laughed and slapped my arm playfully. "I'm not calling you a wrong 'un! A bad choice for me, I'm more than twice your age."

"Like you say, it'll give people something to talk about." I said, reassuring her that I, for one, was perfectly fine with this attention from the older woman.

"It could be a bit of fun, come see me next Saturday if you like. I'll rent a film, something scary."

After a long, goodbye kiss, I left for home, next door.

Chapter 5

My father was a flat cap wearing, straight talking, foul mouthed, Yorkshire stereotype. A truck driver, I would mostly see him only when he came home on weekends. This meant I was quite handy at fixing leaks, broken appliances, drilling and such tasks. "Great for odd jobs." My mother would say. Helpful for new neighbours too.

Saturday evenings mum would go to the bingo hall, leaving Dad and the kids at home. It was her one weekly escape from the house. "Alright son?" He greeted me. "Where you been? Your mum said you were helping neighbours."