Helen
- 1 year ago
- 25
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Helen… Ch. 01 free porn video
Helen lay on the single bed settee, covered only by a black duvet with her breasts exposed. She was reading a copy of Synchronicity by Carl Jung and deeply engrossed in its knowledge. From time to time she would unconsciously stroke her breast as if for comfort or unconscious amusement in concentration. The book purloined from the university library so that she could own it for as long as she liked.
Suddenly her phone rang out the comic laughter of a downloaded jingle. She answered it and politely said ‘Hello…’ yawning nonchalantly with tiredness. The voice of Jack replied in it’s seductive tone that made her feel alerted to his intentions.
‘Hi my sexy one. How’s things with you tonight?’ he asked.
‘I’m ok. Where have you been? I’ve missed you.’
‘Ah, now that would be telling.’
‘Tell!’
He started to laugh and that slightly annoyed her. She had missed him, which was true. Over the six weeks she had known him he supplied her with companionship and eventually romance as she began to admire his humour, kindness and passion.
‘I’ve been in Paris. It was urgent business I had to attend to.’ he replied, with a serious tone to his voice as if the visit was something he wished he could have avoided.
‘Why didn’t you call me and tell me where you were?’
‘No. I didn’t want you to get involved. My father had a heart attack and while I was there, he passed away.’
‘Oh no! You are joking. Tell me you are joking’
‘No, it’s true. But not for you to worry about. I’m home now and thought I should give you a call. Everything was dealt with. I’m now free to visit you again whenever you say it’s fine.’
I missed you lots. Really. I was worried…’
Helen pushed away the duvet. She sat naked on the edge of the bed to continue her much wanted conversation with Jack. ‘So, where are you now?’
‘I am at my apartment drowning my sorrows. I’ll be fine.’
‘I would come and see you, only I have a lecture in the morning.’
‘Today you mean. It’s almost one in the morning. I knew you would be awake or I would have left it. I have just got home myself.’
‘Well, thank you for calling.’ she smiled to herself, feeling much better and anxiously aroused by his voice. More than anything she wanted him near, although the voice contact would suffice for now. ‘I have been busy with this silly study program. I know it’s part of the whole thing, but I already know most of it.’
‘When does your lecture end? I was thinking I could take you to lunch or dinner in that nice restaurant we found. I know you like it. And afterall, it was the first time we kissed and for me that was like being in heaven and kissed by an angel.’
His charm ran like a torrential stream. She was not that impressed by it. Infact, she accepted it as part of his nature, like most men. Eventually it would set with the sun one day and be replaced by his true nature within. Did not all men do this? she thought.
Still, he made her feel wanted and loved. So much so she found him irresistibly provocative. His dark Gallic complexion and inflexions turned her on. Asking herself, is this the man she was looking for in life. Although deep inside she knew that there were more ideal men to discover and explore. At nineteen, life was still full of new horizons.
His intentions were obvious. He was eager to see her and quench his desires. She could tell with the charm he used and that tone of voice. It was his ‘come on’ voice despite the dilemma of losing his father.
He continued talking and making suggestions of what they should do when and if they were alone. Helen listened intently running her fingertips along her thigh until they rested upon her sex, not intrusively, but more tactile and gentle.
‘Are you touching yourself?’ he asked. ‘I know you must be.’
The whole conversation was turning into a typical erotically motivated phone chat. His voice making suggestions of how he would make love to her, as she stared out, imagining the fantasy which they both yearned to be real and would be soon enough.
‘Ok, lets leave it until we meet.’ she suggested. He accepted and they both exchanged their words of love for each other until either one of them gave up the call. And that was Jack.
Helen closed the book she was reading and snuggled inside the warmth of the duvet before reaching to switch off the bedside lamp. Soon without any help, she fell into a deep and calming sleep.
Her lodgings were meagre. Two rooms in all. A kitchen and living room with a bed settee. The bathroom was shared with four others on the third floor of the converted victorian house. Sharing the bathroom was inconvenient and to over come this, she used a bucket for convenience, only for urinating purposes. Such emergencies were rare however.
Helen had no problem with waking up without an alarm clock. The method she often used was still not proven as being reliable, yet it worked for her for some uncanny reason. Before sleep she would gently hit her head on the pillow for each hour of required slumber.
There was the usual dash to the bathroom and as always she made it before the other girls. She did her usual ablutions within a space of fifteen minutes, occasionally being reminded by the others that they were waiting patiently for their turn. She acknowledged them with a simple reply… ‘Ok, I’m nearly finished!’ which was sufficient.
She hardly knew her flatmates. They were not her type of young women to befriend so easily. Often they would be drunk and or high on some obnoxious narcotic which made them argumentative. However, life had to continue that way for a further two years and she had become used to it after one year.
She desired a better place to live. The rent would sap up most of her annual grant and leave her with almost nothing to live on. Her parents were both unemployed and far away. And in her case, she was atleast carving a future in psychology, which would hopefully give her a better chance in life of avoiding the social poverty she had escaped from.
Professor Lord was her favourite lecturer. This made studying Carl Jung easier for her, if only to look at her tutor and listen to his smooth voice. He was three times her age and it was not sex or the desired want of it with him, it was more admiration than anything else. He was someone to look up to and it seemed he had desires on making her his favourite student.
After the morning lecture, Lord took her to one side for a quiet chat. Helen enjoyed those private one to one extensions to the lectures. This time he looked less ambitious and concerned as if holding onto something he wanted to reveal.
‘I’ve been watching you,’ he announced. Helen listened with curiosity hugging her notes. ‘It’s difficult for me to explain to such a beautiful young woman as yourself.’ He began to gesture with his hands nervously. ‘I have to ask you this, and please be gentle with your answer should it be negative.’
‘What is it? I’m fine.’
‘I want to ask you to join me for dinner or whatever it is you like best,’ his face gave a slight blush as he anticipated her answer.
‘You mean you want to become more friendly?’
‘Well, yes. I think I need your company, as a friend. It is something I have been meaning to ask you for a very long time. I know I’m an old man and perhaps an old fool after my request. But I need to see you more often. I think you would be an ideal professional in the field. Last years paper said it all. You have that unique talent that I am looking for. A student in my project would be really good. So, I have decided that student is you.’
Helen was flattered yet she thought deeply about his proposal. How would she study if she joined his project and would it help in achieving her degree? It seemed that Lord was waiting for an immediate reply. ‘Can I get back to you Professor?’
‘Of course, please take your time. Yet I stil
l would like to have dinner with you perhaps?’
She thought about dinner and was suddenly reminded about Jack that she had forgotten about. ‘Can you excuse me Professor, I need to make a phone call?’
‘Yes, of course my dear. I’ll be here waiting.’
The term ‘my dear’ had never been used before by Lord and she saw it as endearment that was now beyond Lord’s usual rapore. She left him in the corridor and found somewhere isolated to call Jack. The reception was poor, but sufficient.
‘Jack, it’s me Helen. Are you free this afternoon for early dinner?’
‘Sure. My place?’ he asked.
‘No. Not yet. I want to visit that restaurant again in town. I think I need time to think about a few things. Not us, just studies that have become a little complicated.’
‘I can help you to relax and that would help you.’
‘I don’t think so,’ she replied with an amused tone. ‘I know what you really want and I think you will have to wait a little longer for that.’
‘Ah, I see. Is it that time of month? I can wait my sexy princess.’
‘No. As I said, it’s studies. And I love you.’ She hung up before Jack could answer with a smile. Then she found Lord waiting patiently. His anxiety for her reply was making him appear nervous. He was sweating as most over-weight men in their middle ages do.
‘So? Dinner this evening?’ Lord asked.
‘Yes, at eight if that isn’t too late?’
‘Not at all. Eight will be fine. And thank you.’
Helen returned to her bed-sit and prepared herself for Jack. She liked to tease him and keep him keen. Denial of sex was a means of keeping him ‘warm’ and wanting. It was a kind of sacrifice for her own needs, then again, the longer he waited, the better the sex was in her opinion. She dressed to kill. Just a simple blouse, skirt and thong that left nothing to the imagination. She had perfect breasts, firm and still youthfully pert. The show of aroused nipples beneath the light green blouse was a way of drawing attention, not only from Jack but also others who noticed.
She found her way to the restaurant in town. It had been a while since they had last visited. The meals were French, like Jack. She enjoyed everything that was gallic as it reminded her of those school trips to the continent twice every year, if only they lasted a weekend each trip.
Over their meal Helen and Jack exchanged both conversation and glances. She was dying to challenge him on one recent aspect. ‘Jack, what would you say if I told you that there was a middle-aged man wanting to fuck me?’ Jack paused in taking a sip of his wine, looked at her and thought hard.
‘Well, that doesn’t surprise me one bit,’ he said with a grin. ‘Has this lucky man told you this?’
‘Not in so many words. I think he hinted in a certain way. The question now being, would you mind if he did?’
Again Jack thought before offering his answer: ‘No. You are a free agent regarding your social life. I have no god given right to stop you my love. But there is one question I must ask you Helen,’ he sat back into his chair. ‘When do we make love? Before or after this assumed person has made love to you?’
‘He isn’t assumed. He is real and I think quite serious about it. I can tell. He’s quite lonely and probably desperate. A widower of some four or five years and a respectable…gentleman.’
‘Gentleman you say? Interesting. So are you going to keep me in the dark with his identity, or do I have to guess from your present social life? That is, if you have one beyond you and I?’ He took her hand in his across the table and kissed it. ‘Am I that gentleman?’ he almost whispered.
‘No. But you thought I was referring to you. I don’t even know your age yet. So, having mentioned middle-age, you responded with yourself in mind.’ She laughed softly.
‘You are clever. You would make a splendid psychologist. Yet my age is not important. Or is it?’
‘I’m just curious.’
‘If you must know, I am forty-four. Is that all you wanted to know?’
‘It wasn’t intended. I really do think another man wants to fuck me besides you.’ Her smile said it all. It was something that she could tease Jack with, and make him jealous, if that was at all possible. She loved to make him jealous if only he showed it. Jack was a self-preservationist and did not wish to appear imperfect.
‘I see. And how do you know this if this gentleman has never directly asked you?’
‘I don’t. I’m guessing.’
‘You assume.’ He corrected her. His charm began to falter before her very eyes. Had she achieved her goal, her objective to make him jealous? ‘Come back to my place. Let me show you what real love making is.’
‘I can’t. I have dinner at eight with one of my tutors.’
Jack nudged forward, grasping her hand again. ‘Wait. Is this the gentleman you are speaking of? If it is, then enjoy his company. That way I can show you who is the better lover.’
It was jealousy. Helen was convinced. She had achieved that goal. Nothing changed in Jack’s usual behaviour. When it was time to leave the restaurant they kissed passionately with gentle hugs that showed no aggression or possession of each other. Their relationship was on equal ground and still fresh.
Helen wanted to make her own way back to her lodgings. The day was warm and pleasant and there was some shopping to do on the old open market, even though the shopping was just looking and not purchasing. The old town market was the place to find some artifacts from the distant local past. That interested he quite a lot. History should have been her chosen study perhaps.
Whilst meandering she caught the eye of a young stallholder. He whistled and drew her attention to which she ignored him at first. He called her over until she responded. His brashness amused her and reminded her of the lads at home in Leeds.
‘Can I interest you in some rather entertaining DVD’s?’ he asked. ‘You look the type of girl who would find pleasure in what I’ve got. Under the counter of course. Nothing the kids can see.’
‘And what would that be?’
The lad reached down under the stall and produced a blank cover. ‘This stuff is red hot.’ She looked at him with a smile knowing it was not a family film for a wet Sunday afternoon. ‘I think you’ll like it,’ he continued.
‘Ok, what is it called,’ Helen folded her arms in wait.
‘This is the best lesbian porno out at the moment.’
‘What makes you think I’m a lesbian?’
‘I don’t. I assume. But if you are not, then may I offer you this one…’ He reached down again to produce another blank cover. ‘Gang bang orgy… again a brilliant movie by the equally brilliant Hollywood porn directors.’
She looked him in the eye and so did he in return, leaning forward across the counter. ‘So, what do you think? Do you want it?’ he asked. Helen was impressed by his innuendo about wanting. He was trying to impress her with his style of charm. He liked what he saw and wanted it. Wanting her.
‘Movies like that don’t interest me.’
‘Ok, fine. The real live thing is always best. And this is your lucky moment. I can offer you an invite to a very exclusive party. Are you interested,’ Again his brashness impressed her. She smiled, thinking as he exchanged his glances with hers. He waited for an answer.
‘What kind of person do you think I am?’
‘Dressed like that? One that I would certainly like to know.’
In a way the lad was quite handsome. His brashness turned her to favour his chances even though he was still a total stranger. His style was cheeky and that tended to make her think he was not the usual kind of charmer one would find in nightclubs and bars.
‘What’s your name?’ she asked.
‘Harry. And what is yours?’
‘Helen. I’m a student at the university. I live quite close to here.’
‘I see. And are you free right now?’
‘I could be. Why are you asking? He looked down as if he was pretending to be shy. B
ut he wasn’t. He looked up at her and waved his hand to another stallholder who came running over. The man seemed responsive as if Harry had a self imposed leadership status.
‘Do us a favour mate. Watch the stall for us and take care of business. I have something urgent to attend to.’
Both of them walked the tiny streets in the old part of town. Her home was part of the Victorian sector, partly preserved and partly abused by local business and time. Harry knew it well as ‘studentville’ a name given by the local townsfolk because of it’s high population of students living in cheap accommodation advertised as being historically aesthetic. Helen was lucky. Her cheap aesthetic accommodation was probably the best.
She invited Harry into her bed-sit. She offered him coffee to which he accepted whilst making himself comfortable on the one easy chair. ‘This place is a dive. You can live with me if you like. It’s much better than this hovel.’
‘Do you live alone?’ she asked, handing him his cup. He took a sip and found it too hot to drink.
‘I do. But where I live is a palace compared to this. Two bedrooms a bathroom, kitchen and lounge.’
‘Is it your parents house? Be honest.’
‘No. It belongs to a mate of mine.’ He looked at her in a certain way as he spoke, moving closer to her. ‘He’s in South Africa.’ He raised his hand so that the back of his finger touched her blouse gently. Helen watched and waited with that certain expectant smile on her face. ‘He studies butterflies or something like that.’ His finger touched the outline of her nipple, noticing she did not intend to stop him. Her test confirmed that his brashness was only a mask. He pulled away quickly and coughed before drinking more of the coffee. ‘So, what do you think?’
The idea of living with Harry was still a far off goal. Atleast for now. The brash stranger was worth studying some more. His looks and mind intrigued her and in a way, he was what she was looking for regarding the same age group. Older men were mature enough to supply the sexual experience she wanted. Younger men were fun and more energetic. They reminded her of who she was. And taking a total stranger back to her bed-sit? That was a risk she was prepared for. She trusted her knowledge of personalities and characters. Harry was too well known in the market community to be a great threat to her life.
‘Don’t get me wrong Helen. I’ve been watching you for a long time.’ He began to confess his interests in her, and she listened. ‘You and that other guy. The one I saw you with for weeks. Is he your boyfriend or a relative?’
‘You mean Jack. He’s a boyfriend. I love him, or atleast I think I do.’
‘Ah… you think? Now that is another thing.’ Harry gestured with his finger. ‘You have to be sure. He’s old enough to be your father. Am I right?’ Helen nodded her reply. ‘Good, see, now that is important. Guys like him only want you for sex. Well, that’s what I think anyway.’
‘And guys like you?’
This made Harry think. He finished his coffee and walked around the room pondering. She was amused to watch him. He stopped and turned to her again, pointing his finger. ‘No. Guys like me respect girls like you.’
‘You touched me in a very intimate place. Don’t you think that was a little disrespectful?’
‘No. You invited me.’
‘How?’
‘Flaunting yourself. You enticed me. Dressed like that, it’s not easy to resist. I know what your game is. You are looking for sex. And, I think I saved you from being abused.’
‘Really? How?’
‘By being here.’ His answer was direct. The look upon his face was sincere and also wanting. He wanted her badly. His youthful desires made him like a sexual predator and she was his prey. His cock, swelling in his leather pants said it all as he stood before her. She had noticed it quite clearly.
His intentions became obvious. He was cautious in touching her. Now it was Helen’s turn to touch as he moved closer, letting her eyes focus more on the object of desire. She knew the game he was playing, taking chances with, testing her. Helen was not falling for it. It was too early to get dirty with a stranger. It was not her style. She was not the slut men thought she could be. Flaunting yourself never really means that. Or does it?
Latisha
- 10.06.2021
- 6
- 0
