1 comments/ 18326 views/ 1 favorites Helen... Ch. 01 By: Sienna 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 still 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. But 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? Helen... Ch. 01 She looked up at Harry, as he stood infront of her. "No. I'm not that easy" she told him. Harry brushed his hand through his thick blond hair. Embarrassed. The attempted tease did not work in his favour. He should have realised that, but his testosterone told him differently. "I'll think about your offer. The one about moving in as a lodger. Then who knows," she looked at the declined swelling in his pants. "Maybe. Just maybe." "Ok, get in touch. You know where to find me." Harry left in a hurry. His masculine pride dented a little. She lay back on the bed as the door closed. Thoughts of what she had missed entered her mind. He was big and gorgeously sexy, but a stranger never the less. Besides, she was not desperate for casual sex. That evening Helen met the eminent professor as planned. The restaurant was full of diners, soft classical Schubert music played in the background, waiters of both sexes served their meals quietly and efficiently as the customers ate and chatted in almost whispers. In Helen's eyes, the place was "posh", reserved for those members of society that held a professional status or for those who could simply afford the extortionately high charges for the food and services. Lord had ordered post-main extras from the menu. Helen was content with her wine as she listened to him explain his project. She watched him consuming the sweets in between his nervous conversation, catching only snippets of his talk. Her mind concentrated more on watching him eat, adding to his mild obesity. His gestures and idiosyncrasies showed not only his nervousness, but also his dedication for the subject. "What do you think?" he asked. Without feeling embarrassed by not totally listening: "I think it's a good idea," she replied, raising a smile on his face. "Can we discuss this further? Invite me to your place." His smile grew even more ambitious in reply. This was what he had wanted more than anything else. It was a breakthrough to his ulterior motive. Helen was young and beautiful and he was lonely, in need of her company in absolute privacy. The thing was; Helen knew this. It was already late and she had a free day ahead. Time that should be reserved for private study. The cab ride across town and into the countryside was taken in complete silence between them, both concentrating on the possible outcomes of that evening. They arrived at Lord's cottage. It was a quaint homely place that suited his solitary life. A carefully tendered lawn without flowerbeds, in the middle of nowhere. She was unfamiliar with the surrounding countryside and so her bearings were completely lost. She decided to put her trust in the gentle man. Lord made coffee for both of them as she explored the cottage. She was intrigued by the number family photographs hanging on the walls. He atleast seemed to have two children on the family portrait taken many years ago. A boy, a girl and his beautiful wife. They were young, what seemed to be their mid to late twenties. He was much slender then with dark brown hair and quite handsome. His departed wife was lucky, she thought. "Ah... I see you found that picture." Lord placed the coffees on the table. "Yes, that was a long time ago. I was just a graduate then and so was Marie, my wife." "Do you miss her?" Helen asked. Lord looked down in sorrow. It was a natural reaction to hold out her arms to him. They hugged, as Lord seemed to cry in silence against her shoulder. He lifted his head and looked at her as he gently pulled way. There were tears visible in his eyes. "Yes, I miss her very much. She was my life. We worked together on many projects. The one I'm inviting you to be hers. That is why I want you to join us." He moved closer again has Helen turned to look at the photograph. Her next question was to ask about the children, but Lord placed his hand upon her bottom. She felt his hands smoothly feeling and made it her duty not to react. Afterall, it could be just sentimental, feeling for someone that was no longer in his lonely life. "You know, I often cry myself to sleep at night thinking of her." "And your children?" "They are both doing quite well for themselves. Married with tiny ones of their own now." This made Helen smile. "They live in the United States. I don't get to see them that often any more. They have their own lives I suppose. They don't need us anymore." Lords hands drifted further beyond the hem of her skirt, seeking out her thigh. Again, Helen did not react as his fingers touched her skin. She became more conscious of what he was looking for, what he wanted. "You have very smooth skin," he whispered. "I miss that too. Marie had lovely smooth skin. Pale and so..." Suddenly Lord stopped touching. "I'm sorry." "No, it's ok. I understand." "Do you really?" He offered her the cup of coffee. "I noticed that you let me touch you without even reacting." She took the cup and began to sip, holding it in both hands as she continued to gaze at the photograph. "Does that mean you want me touch?" he asked. Helen remained unmoved. And again his hand slid gently up and down her thigh. "Do you like me touching you like that?" "It's pleasant. You have a nice touch." Lord took that as a licence to continue. His hand moved upwards and settled on the place were her panties neatly met with the exposed skin. Helen again did not react, as she appeared to gaze at the picture still. Yet she was not concentrating on that picture. Her mind and senses were feeling the professor's intimate advances. It made her feel good and wanting him to carry on, which he did. His fingers found their way between both thighs. He had reached the most intimate part of her body so far. The warmth of her sex against his fingers as she made her first move. She opened her thighs a little more as she sidestepped. Her eyes still fixed on the picture. "I think you like that quite a lot." "Like I said, I don't mind." Helen smiled and took more sips of her coffee as Lord rubbed one finger against her sex, and the warmth turning to a detectable dampness. For Helen it was more than just "nice" or even pleasant. Now she knew that she wanted more as much as he did. She turned around quickly and placed her cup on the table as Lord rapidly withdrew his probing fingers. Quickly she lifted off her lilac top and exposed her bra-covered breasts for him to look at. They suited her slim stature, below average and pert. His eyes focused upon the vista before him and she watched carefully for his reactions. Too forward and it would make her appear too sluttish. Lord looked at her and smiled. "Are you willingly offering yourself to me?" he asked. "You seem to know what you want. Am I correct Professor?" "Not exactly dear. Not exactly." He walked away towards the window and opened the curtain, partly closed and held by ribbon ties. "What I wanted was the way it used to be," he gazed out of the window and the darkness. "The way Marie would allow me..." Helen listened, trying to understand him. He continued: "The way she and I both liked it. Me touching her, just like I did to you." He turned to look at her. "Now I know that you are not the right substitute. I don't think anyone could be." "Then what am I?" "Exactly. What are you my dear? A slut a minx? You didn't even bother to stop me." "Too easy you mean?" Lord was looking not only for company, but also a substitute for Marie to whom obviously Helen knew nothing. "Tell me, how did she die?" Again, Lord bowed his head in sadness. This time he spoke: "Tragically. I killed her by accident four years ago. Before my appointment at the university..." Jack was right in his assumptions and she continued to listen. "I managed to escape prison. The lawyer was good at his job and the judge and jury understanding of such matters. It was a small miracle as these things are. Even I was astounded by the result. And it was the reason our children never speak to me anymore." "How did you kill her?" Lord sat down in an easy chair and began to sip his coffee, thinking. "I killed her with love. Our kind of love. The way we both enjoyed our most intimate moments. I induced a heart attack. Atleast she died in ecstasy." Helens mind began to race. There was very little he needed to say. It was outrageously unbelievable. "It was our anniversary," Lord continued. "We planned it very carefully. The rope, the tape and everything. It was to be our most daring act. I tied her wrists to the bedposts and I taped up her mouth. Maybe the tape was too tight, I don't know, and never will. I fucked her the way she wanted it. The dildo, hard and fast, hard and fast for what seemed hours. I took her to that point she had always wanted to reach, submitting beyond her requirements and physical boundaries. I could see her enduring it and moaning through the tape. Her expression was pain and pleasure all mixed together. And then... it was over." Silence followed as Helen slid into her top. She could not say if he was making it up or telling the truth. He was silent, gazing into thin air with a deeply sad expression on his face. Was he acting? She thought. Her psychology was not good enough yet to decide. Was he testing her? "I'm sorry. I feel so silly." She replied. "No need. Marie always wanted me to take her. We simulated rape for many years, nothing more. It's the way we were. I had no regrets about being rough. Which I suppose defined our underlying fetishes. These things only happened in private of course. Our fantasy." Helen grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Maybe I should leave." She moved towards the door and Lord grabbed her wrist. Again, she felt no fear, just shock at his grip. "What?" "How will you get back into town? It's quite a long distance to walk at night." "I'll be fine." "Why are you leaving me?" Helen was not sure. It seemed a good idea to leave him alone. After what he had old her, it made her feel out of place and embarrassed. There was a slight hint of fear too, but she knew how to handle herself. Then after thinking she realised again how lonely he was and she allowed him to release his hold. "I suppose you haven't told many people about this?" "Only those I trust. And you are one of those, even if we are strangers still." Helen was still unsure of staying longer with the professor. The desired opportunity of sex seemed far away now. What made her want to stay was now fast becoming sympathy and caring. Afterall, he was a gentleman and he spoke his mind about her being a slut or a cheap minx looking for fun. She decided to stay a while longer, settling into the settee. "Anymore of that nice coffee?" The professor refreshed their cups and watched Helen as she held out her cup for him to refill. He noticed a slight tremor in her hand. "Don't worry, I'm not even going to try to rape you. You are not the one." "Ok, what if I had reacted? What would you have done if I had asked you to stop?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe... maybe I would have been tempted my dear. Then again that would have been another crime I would have committed. And I don't think I wanted to go down that road." He set down the coffee pot on the table and returned to his armchair. "To be honest, I'm not a man to be tempted so easily. I think I would have apologised and asked for your forgiveness. That way I would have left the next move to you." "I did move. I accepted your advances. Yet you refused to continue." "Not the same. I wanted you to be mad with me and then calm you down with my apologies. I wanted you to be submissive in a different way than you were. I wanted you to resist and then submit. Is that possible?" "It could be." Helen found his explanation interesting. It was part off his fetish to upset his "victim" first, then make up, leading them into accepted domination. She had got it wrong, but then again, she did not know his intentions so well. She was not the one he was looking for. "So, this project," Lord settled back into his chair to relax. "Are you interested in joining us?" "I will think about it if..." "If what?" Helen braced herself. She was intrigued to know what his reaction would be to her sincere thoughts. "If you fuck me..." The thoughts made themselves clear. She was curious about him and she wanted him. He was probably the person she needed to experiment with; another experienced middle-aged man with a fetish now revealed. He looked surprised and wondered for a while. Helen could only wait in total seriousness. She meant it. "Wait," he pointed at her. "Are you being serious? I am older than you. Look at me, a widower who has never had sex in the past four years. Does that not make you cringe with disgust?" "Not at all. I quite like experienced men. I have a boyfriend who is slightly younger than you. I love sex with him. He makes me feel good." "But I am fat, over-weight and lazy. I have lost the knack, but not the willingness. Infact, I am desperate to feel a woman again. Smell her and caress her, taste her and enjoy the things that nature has provided us with regarding all things sexual. And besides, I am..." "Yes?" "I am terribly nervous and I don't understand why I did what I did," he reached for his coffee cup and took a sip. "Does that make sense to you Helen? Does it?" "Not really. Maybe you are just playing a game with me? A test. To see how much I have learned about mindsets. Am I correct?" "No. I want you like mad. I can't stop thinking about you. The sight of you makes me hard and I think I am ready to try making love again. And then suddenly, earlier, something happened. It wasn't right. You weren't right?" "Maybe it was that fetish. What would you do if I submitted to you? To be quite blunt, what if I let you rape me with my consent? Would you then make love to me?" "Of course. But then you are a stranger. Would you enjoy it with another stranger like me?" "I think so. I have never been raped before. Not that I want to be raped..." "That's it!" He stood up. "That is exactly it!" He moved towards her. "You don't want to be raped. Yet I want to rape you, like it was real. And I want you to react, like it was real. Could you do it?" Helen was forced to think. She was analysing this man and his confused ideas, trying to understand him and his weird yet intriguing mind. In her mind he was asking her to "act" the part he wanted her to play. That was not easy. She was not an acting person and sex to her up to that point was naturally and gently progressive. "You want me to play a role? The victim?" "Yes. The young innocent victim in this case. Like Marie often did. Only now, what makes this more interesting is that I feel as if I've been stalking a complete stranger. Someone I only know as a random student in my lectures. Does that make any sense?" "I think so." She submitted her mind only. "Should it be done special? I mean if it is a role-play. Don't you want to take me by surprise? Like a real rapist? Only this time it would be acting. I would know it was you when you decide to... leap on me." Lord thought. This suggestion appealed to him. Infact, it was that certain something he really wanted. He tried the hard way and it failed. She was far too easy and it made him feel unaccomplished in his desire. He pointed his finger at her. "You are right. I never thought about it that way? It could work." She took up her bag once more. "So I pass your test?" she smiled. "Wait, what test. This is no test," he replied in shock. She stood up and headed towards the door. "Wait, are you leaving?" he demanded a reply. Helen was not prepared to offer him one. If it was a test then she had uncovered his trick. If however it was not, then it was up to him now to carry out his fantasy, when he was ready to do so.