0 comments/ 6711 views/ 0 favorites Helen... Ch. 03 By: Sienna Dusk had descended and the house was plunged into darkness. There were no power supplies, which Harry in his infinite wisdom forgot to mention. He found a half burned candle and he lit it to bring some form of lighting into the lounge. Helen had the option to leave or stay, she chose to stay. The day had been hot and now the late evening was left humid. Helen sacrificed a hot shower and so followed Harry's suggestion to take a cold one instead. After drinking a hidden stash of beers, they felt tired, hungry and disappointed for their own reasons, especially Helen who had to cope with having her bag stolen with the car. They sat together on the settee. "Who are the O'Grady's?" Helen asked with curiosity. "Oh they are just friends." Harry replied nonchalantly. "Well, old friends. Quite old friends." "Are they the ones you were trying to drive away from, nearly killing us?" "Yeah, they were. I've been hiding from them for months. And today they found where I lived. Pathetic isn't it? If I hadn't have picked you up at the university, that wouldn't have happened." "Oh, so you are blaming me? Thanks a lot." "No, no. Indirectly. I wanted to pick you up. Show you this place. Everything turned out a bit arse over tit." "Harry be honest. Do you think I'm going to live here with no food, power or..." "Me?" Harry interrupted to continue her quoted list of reasons for rejecting the house. "I'm here. I can have things sorted in no time, before I move on." "Move on? You intend to leave this house... to me? What about the owner in...South America or Africa?" "He won't mind. He's quite a nice mate. We have know each other for ages." "Ages? How long is ages?" "About... five weeks. No... to be honest I don't know him at all. To be honest again I made him up. I'm a squatter. And you can be the squatter when I've gone. It's not a bad thing. Lots of students squat. You can bring some of your student mates around to move in." Helen looked and listened to him in absolute disbelief. He returned her glances knowing that she was not going to accept his outrageous offer. She was lost for words, but then what he said did not matter, even though it was rubbish. Watching him speak and hearing what he had said so nonchalantly just shown his overall personality for what it was. She liked it. There was something sexy about it and he looked so gorgeous in that candlelight. It was kind of "roughly" romantic. Harry raised a smile and mellowed through anticipated embarrassment. She was not going to fall for the excuses he had offered and he felt so stupid for trying. But there was one thing he did know, he fancied her like crazy. Helen smirked and sank back into the settee. She had forgiven him for his lame and, as yet, unfounded answers about his supposed landlord, who may not exist at all. Someone like Harry can never be trusted to tell the truth. However, she was willing to stand by him. Harry sat back next to her with his head slowly edging towards her ear. His hand rested gently upon her belly, with his thumb rubbing against her skin between the openings of her blouse. She felt his breath and then his lips as he began to kiss then nibble on her earlobe. It felt so wonderful, sending pleasant chills along her spine. Harry had conveniently found one of her erogenous zones and realised how much he could use it to take advantage. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as he continued to touch and feel, letting his hand glide over the curve of her breast. He was not content with just that; he began to open the top buttons to gain further skin contact as Helen enjoyed his tongue, smoothing and licking her lobe. Once her blouse was open, he exposed her breast. His thumb began to tease her aroused nipple, making it hard and raised from the smooth pink areola. It was what he had desired. To see and touch her breasts was his first conquest completed. Again, Helen seemed oblivious to all of this, but she knew exactly what was happening. She could feel him and did not want him to stop. His fingers playing on her nipple and his tongue licking on her earlobe was manifesting into total pleasure. However, she pretended to be lost in the moment so that Harry could make further moves. She enjoyed it when a man took advantage of her body. Harry realised that he had control of her. In his way of thinking, she was like putty in his hands. He opened up her blouse and began to grip and hold her breast, caressing it gently. His lips met hers and together their kiss began a journey of passion, becoming deeper and deeper in the wild exploration of each others mouths, tongues and lips. Harry wanted to feel and see more of her, but the candle's dying flame made the room darker, with only a hint of dim light coming from the window. Helen opened her eyes and acclimatised to the diminished light, feeling his fingertips run softly over her belly, before hitching up her skirt to the waist. His hand pushed her thighs open as she slid herself deeper into the settee. He began to manipulate her sex through the panties, pulling them to oneside in order to tease her lips open wide. Helen loved it when a man touched her in that way. The feel of his finger gently rubbing against her clitoris and then exploring into her welcoming vagina made her even more drenched and wanting. No words were spoken by either of them. There was only the sound of her moans and deepening breaths that broke the silence. Harry concentrated on his finger teasing, and then he kneeled between her thighs to slip off her panties, giving more access to her sex, allowing him to get closer. She could see his silhouetted body in the darkness removing his clothing and then his hands opening her thighs once more, to feel his slick tongue tasting her, probing within her and then tantalising her clitoris. There was now no reason to let it all stop. Her slow rise to orgasm was growing ever more stronger with each stroke of his tongue. She could hear and feel how wet he had made her during the act and it felt so good. This stranger she had known for only a short while was invading her body at will. The intensity grew stronger as Helen threw her arms around his shoulders, pulling Harry closer to her, fingers stroking his spiked gelled hair as she allowed herself to come for him, filling his mouth with the release of her liquid love. There was no doubt in her mind that Harry was experienced in what he was doing. In the darkness he lifted his head to hers and her fingertips felt his face and lips, wet with her love juice. She kissed him, tasting the sweetness of her, which only served to raise her passion even more. Harry raised himself and stood before her. She reached out and felt the long hard cock he was offering her. Her fingers explored it, feeling its protrusive veins and perfect form from base to tip and the smoothness of the head unsheathed. He wanted her to lick and suck it, and Helen had no bounds against giving in to his desires to feel her mouth upon him. She knew exactly what to do and it did not matter if it was dark, as the taste and feel of him was enough. It had everything in its natural form she had imagined and desired. Soon he began to yield to her, as his moans grew louder. She began to stroke it delicately, slowing down his ardour and finding it irresistibly intoxicating. Helen did not want him to come too quickly. She knew well enough that once he came, his passion and hardness might diminish completely, and she had not yet been completely satisfied. Together they relaxed for a while, resuming their sitting positions next to each other as Helen removed the rest of her clothing to match his total nakedness. His fingertips caressed her nipples gently, keeping them hard and aroused. "I always wanted to see you naked, ever since I first saw you." he said. "And how long have you been watching me?" "To be honest, for weeks before I plucked up the courage to talk to you. I know that might seem strange, but inside this rough exterior is someone who is really shy. Can you believe that?" "I would say roguish rather than rough," she smiled. "And yes, I can believe it." "You are someone I have always dreamed of meeting," he explained, lifting her face to look at her more closely in the partial darkness. "You are beautiful, you know that?" Helen replied with a smile, realising that this person was capable of being tender. That inner-self of his was now showing through. She also realised that there was a cry within him, for him to be understood a little more than he was. "What kind of trouble are you in Harry?" she asked, braving the opportunity to find out. "Lots to be honest. The errors of my ways are catching up on me fast. It's either the cops or those friends of mine who will get me first. The only one person I can turn to is Kenny." "And who is Kenny, if I may ask?" "My step dad." A few hours later they both retired to Harry's bedroom, or atleast the room in the house he claimed as his sleeping area. There another candle was lit which gave them more light to explore each other more clearly. Harry had staying power in his love making, enabling her to come many times before he did eventually as they furiously fucked to a crescendo of orgasms. This time she was careful, making sure he wore a condom. And, credit where it was due, Harry had a ready supply and considerate enough to use them. He lay beside her, removing his protection and disposing of it quickly. Helen laid her arm across her breasts, catching her breath. She could not help but compare Jack with Harry. It was the first thing that came into her mind, a comparison between the older mature man and the younger man of her own age group. And, out of all the boy friends in those past years of sexual exploration and discoveries, Harry had performed the best of all so far. Yet Jack was still the one who seemed to know exactly what she wanted and made it all happen, apart from the accident they had the last time, which made her worry about any consequences that may still arise. "You are an amazing fuck, you know that?" Harry said, adding a hint of humour to his words and meaning. It made her laugh at his brash description of her lovemaking and she tapped him gently on his arm. "It's true," he continued. "You blew my mind, as well as my cock. Totally amazing. Lets do it again." "Some other time maybe. I'm ready for sleep and there is the problem of my stolen bag thanks to you." "Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Was there anything valuable in it, apart from books and things?" "The only keys I have to my bed-sit, my credit card and loose change." She turned to face him, snuggling into his arm. She watched him contemplating some kind of solution, or atleast hoped he was. "Those books and notes are important. It was my study work, and I'm completely lost without them." "I'll have a word with Kenny later. See what he can do. The O'Grady's might still have them to return. But, you can kiss goodbye to your cash and credit card. They know a few tricks with pin numbers and if they get it, they will wipe you clean." "Pity they can't pay off what I owe. My limit is exceeded. They won't get anything." In their moment of chilling, Helen caressed his face with her finger. Slowly, they both drifted off into a state of slumber, fully satisfied and contented with what they had just achieved. The candle slowly expired too, as if all the timing was eloquently in tune with their minds and bodies and the passing of the last few hours. Later that morning, Helen was awoken by the sunshine beaming through the bedroom window. She turned to see if Harry was lay beside her, but he wasn't. His place in bed was empty. She drew back the duvet and began her search of the house for him. Every room was looked into as she called out his name and it became apparent that Harry had left her alone in a strange house, in a strange suburb of town without means of communication. At that moment she began to realise how important her phone was and her stolen bag with its other contents. After a cold-water wash and then dressing, Helen searched for food in the house. The milk in the fridge had gone sour. There was simply nothing to eat or drink but cold water. The front door was unlocked, and she was free to leave. She still knew nothing of the area or even where it was. She considered asking a neighbour, but that idea was soon dispelled from her mind. The house did not belong to Harry and they might ask too many questions. So, she decided to hold on a few more hours. As she sat in the corner of the lounge, arms around her knees after many hours of waiting, Harry returned carrying shopping bags. She raised her had to look at him. "Where have you been? She asked. "I'm sorry for running out on you. I had to see someone. Look, I've brought us some food." He took the shopping bags into the kitchen and Helen watched as he emptied their contents into the cupboards. "I've even got energy cards, so we can have electricity." "What about my things... my bag?" "Oh yeah. Well, we didn't manage to find that, so I bought you a mobile phone. Brand new and all connected." He took out the phone from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. It was still useless because of all the contact numbers stored in her usual phone. Not every one remembers so many numbers, including Jack's. There was however one number she did remember and tapped in the numbers. It began to tone and a few seconds later it was answered. "Hello? Who is this?" It was the Irish accent of a man, brogue and insistent. "This is the owner of the phone you have," she told him. "And I want it back." The phone disconnected before she could say anything else. Harry watched as she threw down the new phone onto the table. "Bastard!" "Wait. Was that one of the O'Grady's?" "So what if it was? I need my phone and my bag." "Look, you have to be careful how you speak to them." Harry became nervous as he explained. "They can be cruel and heartless in their violence. A family of thieves. Even the cops take a wide berth when it comes to dealing with the O'Grady's." That was nothing new to Helen. Where she had spent her childhood was full of families like the O'Grady's. She even befriended a few and found them quite generous towards her when it came to needing help with a few bullies at school. And the family that Harry mentioned was no challenge to her. "So where do I find them?" she asked. "No way! I'm not even going to think of it. You're safe with me. I'll sort something out." "Fair enough. How do I get into my place without keys?" "That's easy. We break in." During dinner, they sat at the kitchen table. Helen asked more questions about Harry and his sketchy lifestyle, making things clearer about him. He did not even own the market stall in town. His job was to guard it from shoplifters and rogues, like the O'Grady's, from having unhealthy interests in the businesses. He was a security man for his stepfather and his gang of rogues. And she also discovered that Harry had served time in prison until recently for violent crimes against other rivals. "I was framed. I didn't do half the things I was sent down for," he explained. "It happens I suppose. Dad, that's Kenny, he was furious obviously. The whole thing sparked off again. Mad as ever. Now the O'Grady's try to get one up on us. Like yesterday. They wanted my car to wreck and burn just for fun. Probably break my arms and legs too if you hadn't have been with me." "Stupid games." "Stupid yes, but serious. You're never going to get your things back. We can sort it." He put his hand on hers. "You're smart and I like you. Last night was good. I realise now that you were more than just a good fuck." Helens eyebrows rose at the expression. "No, seriously. I like you a lot. You've grown on me and I want to get to know you more." In Helen's mind, he was not the kind of man with his kind of lifestyle that she wanted. He was handsome in his own right, but wild, reckless and unreliable as well as a liar and potential vagabond. Infact, she wondered how much of what he had just told was for real. And yet she found him endearing and an excellent lover in bed. The old Victorian house where her bed-sit was situated had a back alley passage. Harry looked up at the crisscross of drainpipes on the wall, looking for a way into her apartment. Helen watched on as he studied the situation with concentration. "Thing is, how safe are those pipes? I could climb them and find myself falling off the wall. These old properties are not that easy to get into." Helen smiled at him, which raised his attention. "What? I mean it. I could seriously injure or kill myself." "There is a better way in." She said. "Safe and a lot easier." "Ok then, how?" "The attic. We climb up into the attic on the landing and look for the trapdoor on my ceiling. Get in that way and nobody will even notice." The thought had come to her while they were searching for a way in, and remembered the various trapdoors over every bed-sit apartment on that third floor. It was quiet. The rest of the lodgers were either asleep, out or too busy doing their own thing. She pressed the key code on the front entrance that gave them entrance to the house. On the third floor landing there was the trapdoor into the abandoned attic. Harry lifted her up to open the trap. She was light and the view of her panties and her delights within gave him an added bonus to the whole effort. Helen lifted herself into the attic and there was enough daylight coming through the cracked and broken glass of the skylight to see where she was. After searching, she found the trapdoor that would give her access to her tiny apartment. Harry waited a while outside the door until she opened it from inside. "See, it was easy," she said with a gleeful smile that signified self-cleverness. "Come on in. I'll make us some coffee." Harry had been there before and noticed how cramped the place was even more, because Helen was the prime focus of his attention on his last visit. It was tidy, yet there was that certain smell, an old musty smell that came with age and multiple use over the years. The furnishings were partly damage and the bed-settee had seen many comings and goings in its time. "You need to get out of here girl. You deserve better accommodation." He told her as she passed him the only decent coffee mug she had in the place. She drank from a cereal bowl and sat beside him. "I can get my house sorted for us both." "It's not yours." "That doesn't matter. We can stay there... for now." "The dreaded O'Grady's might burn it to the ground while we are asleep at night." She said jovially, but Harry found it disturbingly possible and shook his head in reply. "You have a point. I think I should find us a much safer place." "Us? Why do you say us? We are not a couple." "Well, I know that, but we could be." Later, the inevitable had to happen. Helen lay back on the bed settee naked on her back with her legs open over the edge as Harry thrust in and out of her with ambitious vigour. It was rough and hard as he worked his way towards a climax just wearing his open shirt. She began to moan out loudly as he made her come several times. His cock felt amazingly satisfying and he knew exactly how to use it. She pulled the pillow partly over her face to bite it, in effort to silence her ever-escalating loudness. Harry however could not silence himself so easily. He began to slow down, nearing his orgasmic release, moaning loudly with each thrust until it was close enough to exit and stroke himself to a finish. His warm spunk came in several long streams, hitting her belly. Helen looked at his charges, settling into white sticky pools on her skin as she took long breathes. There was no doubt that he had plenty to give. She leaned up and watched him slowly resting on his knees as his moans and gasps slowed down into recovery. Helen... Ch. 03 Then there were three taps on the door. "Helen, are you home?" It was the Gallic accent of Jack. He was unexpected. "Your neighbour down stairs said she could hear you." His presence made Helen panic and Harry dashed to put on his trousers, as she lifted the duvet closer to her. "What are we going to do?" she whispered loudly. Harry hopped around the room, not having any clue as to escape the compromising situation. "I can't ignore him. I need his help." She reached for her nightdress, which was nearby and she quickly slipped it on. "Hide in the kitchen." She ordered. Harry did not hesitate. However there was nowhere safe to hide in the ensuite room that served as a kitchenette. "What the fuck am I going to do?" Harry sought some answer, knowing there was no escape. "Shit! I'm a dead man." "I'll be ready in a minute my love!" Helen called out to her lover beyond the door. "The drainpipes. It's the only way to go." She told Harry. He opened the window and stepped out, braving the risky old fastenings to climb down and away. Helen... Ch. 04 Helen had to be quick at finding excuses. It was something she had always been good at and her explanation for the theft of her bag and why she had taken to her bed early that evening matched the questions that Jack wanted to know. The theft was a quick snatch on her way to university that left her feeling depressed, and going home to bed was her way of forgetting all about it. Atleast it got his sympathy. Making love was not on his immediate agenda and he encouraged her to dress and accept his invitation to an `all night` bar in town. As the soft jazz music played in the background, Jack plied her with a shared bottle of her favourite wine, merlot. Like always, he would lecture her about how she should move into his apartment and offer her everything she needed. She listened, but always made up her own mind at the end of the day. She was becoming fond of Harry, and she needed to see more of him. "I tried to pick you up from university this afternoon," Jack said. "Obviously you were not there. So I went inside and found your lecturer..." "Professor Lord?" She interrupted him, concerned. "Yes. I had a long chat with him. Not about his weird ideas about you, so please don't get concerned about that. Instead, I found a very interesting man. He intrigued me. We began to chat about something I loved when I was a boy. Falconry. Did you know he was a hawker?" Helen knew nothing about falconry. It was something she had heard about and associated it with a cruel sport like fox hunting, and something that boys would get involved in. He continued: "The professor has a friend in Yorkshire who owns lots of birds. Trained raptors of the highest quality in the whole of the country." He described it as if he was talking about fine wines. "I have never seen anything like that since I was young and in my youth. The idea of visiting and taking up his generous invitation was something I needed to embrace. So, I have arranged that you and I will go this weekend and enjoy ourselves. Will you come?" "With Lord? You actually made arrangements?" she asked. Jack smiled in confirmation. "You must be out of your mind." The thought was interesting and unbelievable at the same time. She thought about it and the fun element it had with it. She accepted eventually without any reservations of what would and could happen. Her phone rang and she answered it. Jack watched and listened. "Hello? I'm sorry I'm busy at the moment." She disconnected the call. "You have a new phone? Who was it?" "Oh yes. I had this one spare. It was just a friend from uni." "Why didn't you use it to call me? I would have been at your side if you had told me all about the theft." "Jack. It's ok let me deal with it. Weekend sounds good." Helen made her excuses to go to the bathroom. She called Harry, who seemed desperate to contact her. He was checking up on her to see if Jack was still around. "Of course he is. What is the matter? Why so urgent?" "I'm in hospital," he said. "They beat me up. I had just set foot into the back alley and two of the bastards jumped me. They know where you live. You have to move out." "Why should I move out? I have no business with them?" "It's not that simple. They think you are with me in everything and they have made you a target. We both have to hide for a while until Kenny can sort things out. They busted my nose and loosened a few teeth. I'll be fine. Just don't go back to your place. I'll call you later." He disconnected. Helen could not believe what she had gotten into by being involved with Harry. She sat and thought for a while on the toilet basin after using it. Maybe the weekend would be a good idea afterall. It would get her away from the escalating problems for a short while atleast, and allow her to plan some way forward and out of trouble. For the next two days leading up to the weekend, Helen moved in with Jack. It was safer that way she thought. He would drop her off at university and pick her up in the evenings before dealing with his own daily routines. She began to realise how good Jack was, not only in sex, but in his generosity too. He treated her to almost a brand new wardrobe of clothes, the ones he liked to see her wearing mainly. She did not mind that as it made her feel appreciated and loved. Jack was a natural lover and he knew how to romance a girl off her feet. The only problem in Helen's mind was; he had other lovers, which she had never met or desired to meet. She had to share him and now with the fondness for Harry, she too was playing the game, only it was more deceitful in her case. Keeping Harry at a distance was not easy. He began to call her every opportunity and inconvenient moment. She had text him in a nice way many times explaining her need to get away from him, if only for a short while, yet Harry seemed to ignore her messages. She began to realise how much one can fall in love with someone so unstable in his or her lifestyle. She was missing him; of that there was no doubt. After making love with Jack, she thought about Harry and compared them both. If she had to make a choice regarding the sex, then Harry would win. Jack's gentleness was fine, until Harry came along and shown her something else. The longevity of his style allowed her to enjoy more prolonged orgasms and when it came to spilling his precious seed, Harry knew how to deliver. Still, both men occupied a place in her heart. Love and sex was surely different. Jack held her head gently as she sucked him. Her hands gripped his thighs as she tasted his sweet salty precum, hearing his moans and gasps getting louder the more she worked her lips and tongue on his hardness. She loved giving head. It was her way of being dominant in sex, controlling every aspect. She withdrew him from her mouth and clenched his cock just under the head with her fingertips. This made Jack slow down, preventing his climax from happening a while longer. She wanted him to come when she was ready, no matter how much he pleaded with her. They both saw the funny side to the act. She loved to tease and he in turn submitted to her control. "You make me so hard." He told her. The more he said such things, the more she enjoyed it. It was even better than feeling and tasting his release. So, she made him wait until she herself was satisfied, using her finger to pleasure herself first before bringing him finally to his orgasmic release. It seemed that size did not really matter to Helen, as long as it hit the right spot at the right time. What did matter to her was the end result. During intercourse it did not matter either, but when it came to externally induced male orgasms she wanted to see and taste the results of her efforts. The more a man would come in both quantity and quality, the more she felt rewarded. Weekend soon came and Jack packed the boot of his car with everything they would need for a long weekend in the country. The weather was the best that they could hope for in a typical British summer, blue cloudless skies and warm sunshine cooled by a light breeze. Helen took the opportunity to open the car window and take on the sunshine and breeze as they headed north on the motorway to their destination. The car had satnav, which would prove valuable in finding the hideaway location of the manor house and falconry, hidden on the Yorkshire Dales. The journey took them all morning and into the early afternoon. Finally they arrived. They drove along a winding narrow drive that eventually led them to the quaint little seventeenth century manor. It had been renovated and modernised, freshly painted white exterior walls and the customary black painted doors and window frames. The whole area was surrounded by trees, which provided a deep forest setting. Helen could smell the scent of wild lavender as she stepped out of the car. It was one of her favourite fragrances. Professor Lord greeted them with handshakes and hugs. He was happy to see them, especially Helen, face to face again. During the past few lectures he had distanced himself and treated her as one of the students, not wanting to invade each others space. "Thank you both for coming. I was hoping you would. This place is amazing, and you must meet Jayne." Lord took them indoors and into the vestibule with its low ceiling. There were paintings hung on the walls of all the different types and species of hawks, which impressed Helen. She had no idea that there were so many. Then Lord took them into the kitchen to meet Jayne. She was in her middle age, blonde hair in the same style as Helen's, short and shoulder length. She was preparing dinner and was pleased to meet Lord's guests for the weekend. "This is my friend Jayne. You might say we are very good friends. We have known each other for, what? Four years now?" Jayne confirmed with a nod and a smile. Jack found her quite attractive and Helen could see his reaction, all too obvious. "Dinner will be ready in a few hours," Jayne announced. "You must be parched. David will show you to the lounge and I'll make coffee." At that Lord, took them into the lounge that was modern in its decorative style. The low ceiling made everything look cosy, yet also cramped. The wooden beams slung below the ceiling became a problem for Jack, almost hitting his head. Helen found it funny. "I hope you two will settle in. I know the place is cramped, but then Jayne has lots of furniture around. She collects antiques too as well as these old manor houses." "Is it a well known place?" Jack asked. "No, it does have history though. It belonged to a farmer's family for quite a while, then abandoned. Jayne's ex restored it and it is one of many she now owns scattered all over the country." Helen made herself comfortable beside Jack on the settee. Lord would give her sly looks, admiring the way she was dressed, as usual, leaving very little to the imagination. She knew exactly what Lord was thinking. She was also slightly surprised to know that he had a female friend, and she wondered how much he enjoyed his fetish with her, if at all they indulged. Jack and Lord seemed to get on well in their conversation. Helen admired the numerous antiques and paintings on the walls as the men bonded. Jayne entered carrying a tray of fresh coffee. She laid it on the low table and busied herself back in the kitchen. Jack could not keep his eyes off her while she was there. She wore a short skirt, which gave plenty for him to look at and fill his imagination with lurid fantasy. His liking for mature woman became obvious, as most of his other 'lovers' were supposed to be. "What a very charming friend you have." Jack said. "Yes, like a companion. I'm very fortunate to have met her." Lord replied. "Is she divorced?" Jack asked. "No, her late husband passed away. Like Marie. Heart failure." Lord looked at Helen. "I explained everything to Helen some time ago. And may I say, Helen too is a very charming young lady." Helen felt flattered, and wondered if she too had a penchant for older men. She did find them attractive and that mature experienced edge appealed to her needs. Lord had intrigued her for his confessed fetish. Such a charming man, a professor, into the things he was obviously fond of no matter how dire they were. That promise he had made was still standing, but not while Jack was around. It was not going to happen yet. "I can't wait to see your hawks." Jack commented. "When will we see them?" "Tomorrow. We'll take you to the common at the back of the manor. Jayne will join us. She is the hawker around here; I just go along with it. Quite getting into it. It's interesting, as you will agree Jack. Paris? You come from the city of romance I believe?" "Yes. I was born just outside of the city. My parents moved into Paris when I was fifteen. As a child there was falconry near our home. I would go there at weekends and join in with the other local hawkers. A fascinating sport..." "Its cruel." Helen interrupted. "Not at all," Lord said. "Its quite a natural sport. They are predator birds. They hunt in the wild and with such grace. You have to admire them. Marvellous birds. Infact, I wouldn't call it a blood sport." "I agree." Jack said. "It is a natural sport." "I think men are like predators." Helen said with a grin. "Jack is a predator. He's always hunting me down." She made the comment which was a hint aimed at Lord. "I think you like the thrill of the chase, don't you?" She looked directly at Lord. He thought for a while and then smiled. "Don't we all my dear?" They sat down to dinner in the spacious dining room. White wine was served with grouse specially brought fresh from Scotland. Helen assumed that Jayne was some kind of heiress or just affluent. She asked what Jayne's husband did in life before he died. Jayne was all too delighted to divulge. "He was an estate agent. A very successful one. Our only son Carl now runs the business. It's through Carl that I met David." She placed her hand on Lords hand in affection. This signified to Helen that they had an intimate relationship. Lord was certainly full of surprises. "David and I have been friends since." "Close? Close friends?" Helen asked. "Yes, we are. When we get to see each other that is. You seem surprised Helen." "Not really. I could never imagine my professor being involved in a relationship." "And why is that?" Lord asked. "Well... it's a bit like, your father being involved with a lover, apart from your Mum that is." "It's the way young people think." Jayne replied. "I think Carl still believes that David and I are strange, being as close as we are. Its not impossible for older people to have sex." Jayne looked directly at Helen. There was a certain glare in her eyes. It was the same look that men often gave her when they fancied her. Jayne kept the stare fixed and Helen returned it. "Sex, is the operative word I think." Jack laughed at the comments. "Of course, sex is everything." Helen looked at Jack. She did not expect him to say that. Somehow it defeated her thoughts about him. Sex was not everything. Sex had its place alongside love and romance. "It is true my love. Sex is what makes the world go around...and around..." "Shut up!" Helen retorted. She was annoyed with him for making sex the subject of ridicule. She personally believed that sex was a very emotional and private act and one that was to be regarded as seriously respected. Jack apologised and the subject of the discussions changed to other things, like the weather and their weekend plans. However, Jayne still held that certain stare on Helen. She did not respond, finding it strangely unusual. Did Jayne fancy her? Was she and Lord a unusual couple? The ones that indulged in what Helen affectionately termed as freaky sex? The guest bedroom was small but comfortable. There were real linen sheets and pillowcases, something that Helen could not afford. She cuddled up naked and felt the sheets around her body, smelling their freshness. Jack was busy pampering himself, applying skin cream, which he did very regularly these days to hide his progressive wrinkles. "I'm getting old." He said, peering hard at himself through the wardrobe mirror. "One day I'll be full of them, everywhere!" Helen giggled as she watched him. "I don't mind wrinkles," she said. "Can make them go away on a certain part of your body, so why should I be concerned?" Jack knew exactly which part of his body those wrinkles were. The flaccid cock, his relapsed member, waiting to be aroused. He jumped into bed beside her. They both lay staring up at the low ceiling, each of them wondering who was going to make the first move to make love. But Helen had a question she wanted to ask first. A serious question to relieve her anxieties over what was said at dinner. "Why did you ridicule sex like you did? You upset me. Infact, I have never hard you say things like that before, as if sex was just something you did." "Look, I'm sorry. It was a joke," Jack explained. "I was having fun with David and Jayne. I had forgotten how sensitive you were." Helen accepted his excuse and let it pass unchallenged. "You know one thing I noticed also?" "What was that?" Helen asked. "Jayne. She likes you. I saw that look she was giving you." "Freaky yes. It made me feel very uncomfortable." "Yes, I know that, but she is such an attractive woman. You could learn a lot of things from her." "Like what exactly?" "Sex. You two could experiment and enjoy each others company." Helen turned herself away from him. "No listen. We have talked about this before. The fantasy you have about making love to other women. There is a chance that you could try it." "It was only a fantasy, nothing else," Helen replied, although the fantasy did appeal to her somewhat. She often played with her imagination, feeling another woman and being touched by her. This often became the phantoms of masturbation, which made her come so intensely. She threw back the sheets and quickly straddled Jack, pinning him down beneath her, feeling his hardness touching her thigh. "And you think the idea is a good one?" There was no need to ask. His cock said it all. They made love for what seemed a long time. Jack was holding back his orgasm as she straddled him, pounding down onto him, letting herself ride the long intense orgasm she was enjoying. Her mind however was not on Jack. The thoughts of Harry came into her mind as if she was fucking him, and then the imaginary vision of Jayne, fingering her to a wild extended climax. Soon Jack released, sending his seed over his belly and chest as he withdrew. The proverbial coitus interuptus. Neither of them cared how much noise they had made, as it was their business, and neither of them really cared if anyone else heard them. The following morning Helen and Jack rose from their contented sleep. It was another warm sunny day and that smell of wild lavender filled their senses from the open window. They had breakfast with Lord, serving them a simple bowl of cereal, explaining that they had planned dining out for lunch in the nearby village. Jayne had already left the manor and took herself the common to fly her falcons. They made their way to the common as soon as their breakfast was consumed. Jack was excited, almost childishly as if he was about to open a birthday gift. Getting involved with falcons and hawks was his most recent ambition. Helen on the other hand was passive about the whole thing. There was a narrow path, which led to the common, which was part of the feature garden, carefully taken care of by some employed or hired gardener. She was impressed by the variety of bushes and roses that lined the path, picking a few here and there that took her fancy. Being in the country was a rare occasion for her and the being there was her main enjoyment so far. The path opened up to the common, an undulating area of space surrounded by woodland. There, Jayne was in the company of an older man, the falconer himself, whose bird was in flight, diving as it hunted out its prey. As it flew with grace and Jack was impressed. "So amazing. Just look at that. Isn't it wonderful?" Helen on the other hand was not so impressed. The falcon had obviously found its prey, some small defenceless animal, a vole or mouse perhaps. To Helen it did not matter, the whole act being hostile in her opinion. Jack tried to explain that it was just nature and these things happened in a natural environment. Jayne had a falcon perched on her arm. She wore a heavy elbow length glove, the bird leashed safely to stop it from flying away. She asked Helen to come closer and allow the bird to greet her. She was hesitant, knowing how vicious such birds could be, an evolved raptor from way back when. "This is Timmy," Jayne explained. "He is almost fifteen years old and almost at the end of his life. So old now he is totally tame. Do you want to let him perch on your arm? I think he likes you." The bird cocked its head and with one eye it seemed to be staring at her as it ruffled its feathered wings. Jack handed her one of the gloves. Helen... Ch. 04 "Go ahead. Enjoy its company. It won't harm you." Jack said. Again, Helen hesitated, this time moving closer as she fitted the glove. Jayne held the leash as it hopped onto Helens' arm. She flinched a little, expecting it to struggle and possibly attack somehow. She could feel the sheer weight of the creature, which surprised her, thinking that such birds were reasonably light. Slowly she became used to the tame bird as it looked at her. She saw the realistic features that surpassed all the images she had previously seen in magazines or on tv. Infact, she began to admire it for its natural beauty and form. "Hello Timmy," she began to talk to it as it gazed back at her, unperturbed, calm and reasonably friendly. "Aren't you beautiful?" The others watched on as Helen became more acquainted with her newfound friend. The falconer handed her a piece of raw meat so that she could feed him. It hate gently from her fingers without pecking her with its deadly rapturous beak. Again, Helen became more and more impressed, growing used to it by the second. "Would you consider having one?" Lord asked. "Not really. But now I can see why they are so fascinating. He's beautiful." "He is tame," Jayne said. "Not all falcons are so pleasant." She pointed to the younger one flying above them. "Imelda is quite ferocious when she wants to be. She is one of the daughters of Timmy we decided to keep. The mother died a few years ago. She hit a tree and the collision instantly killed her. She too was tame, but then she had lived a long life, almost seventeen." "They have short lives." Helen commented, watching Imelda swoop down onto the falconers arm as he whistled her back. "So beautiful, yet so... savage?" The falconer replaced its hood and clipped on the leash. She did not want to be back, although the commanding whistle made her return, trained to take the orders of its human masters. It thrashed its wing until eventually settling, and yet Timmy seemed so content with being on Helens arm. As the morning progressed, Helen watched the others fly the two birds as she sat eating one of the apples from a nearby tree. She sat on a blanket enjoying the sunshine and layback to catch more of the rays and the soft breeze that blew over the common. Jayne noticed and slowly made her way towards Helen. "I see you like to sunbathe. Did you notice the swimming pool by the side of the manor?" Jayne asked, kneeling beside her. Helen opened her eyes and looked up at Jayne. "I like swimming too." "Good, then I think we should have a swim. Will you join me later?" Helen agreed and again noticed Jayne's amorous gaze. Maybe Jack was right, Jayne did fancy her. A lesbian who had obviously befriended the strange professor with his kinky ideas of sexual activity. Helen decided that it was the ideal chance of finding out more about Lord, and that promise to each other they had made. During lunch in a small quaint village restaurant and public bar they all discussed the weekend and Jack's teenage years in France. Helen discovered more about him, there were tales that surprised her about his earlier lovers and realised that her lover was a typical teenage Lothario, which was to be expected by the handsome man he was now and he certainly was during his younger years. Jayne was more interested in Helens' past, asking questions which bordered on the personal regarding her earlier sexual encounters. She gave limited information, cautious of where it may lead, until a question arose that confirmed her thoughts about Jayne. "Have you ever made love to another girl?" Jayne asked. Helen took a deep breath and thought of her reply carefully. "Not as such. I had a friend. We became very close over the years. We did indulge in discovering each others bodies... closely. I'm sure you can imagine what happened." Helens reply drew attention from both Jack and Lord. Jayne wanted Helen to explain more details. In a way, Helen felt a little humiliated and left their company by going to the bathroom, hoping that Jayne would not follow. Jayne stood outside the firmly bolted cubicle door. "Helen, did I upset you? I didn't mean to. I was just curious. I think you already know my sexuality." Helen sat on the toilet listening, reluctant to move. "Ok, I'm a lesbian and David and I are not lovers. We are close friends, and have been, as you know for a few years. If I have upset you or even offended you, I would like to apologise." Helen tided herself and left the cubicle to wash her hands. Jayne seemed upset and regretful of her intrusions. "I like you," Jayne continued, as Helen looked at her standing close behind her through the mirror. "I'm old enough to be your mother, yet that does not stop me from wanting a younger woman. It has been many months since I made love. She was one of the local girls and ever since I have wanted another like her. You made me think about it. Do you see my point?" Helen turned around to answer; "Oh yes, I see your point. Unfortunately I'm not the person you need." From then on the rest of the afternoon became uncomfortable for both women. Helen could not wait for Jack to bid his farewells until next time. During their long journey home, well into the late evening they remained silent, until Jack decided to ask a question; "Are you going to allow David to fulfil his fantasy? Only it sounds outrageous to me, not that I can stop you. It is something that I find absolutely deplorable and yet he seems such a gentle person." "We shall see." Helen replied. Helen... Ch. 05 Helen's move and stay at Jacks apartment had reached its third week. Both began to settle down, but Harry had not contacted her during that time. She had tried to contact him and his mobile phone was switched off, signifying there was a definite problem. It was so hard for her to even conceive that Harry would have abandoned their intimate friendship. She was becoming desperate for some news about his well-being. He was a high risk with everything he was involved in and he was either dead, injured or in police custody. "There is something worrying you." Jack said, as they ate dinner alone together. "I can tell, you are so sad and depressed lately. And if I may say this without upsetting you, it is getting worst." All that Helen could do was sigh in reply. She could not reveal her secret affair with Harry, even though her and Jack's relationship was open. "You can talk to me. I'm here for you." Jack took her hand across the table. "Am I not being the man you wanted to live with?" Jack was ideal to live with. He had behaved himself in her opinion by not inviting his girlfriends back to the apartment. He atleast honoured her as a close friend. The place was what she had always dreamed of owning herself one day. He made sure she had everything she needed, including his love. "No, it's not you..." "Is it Lord? Has he done something to you?" Jack jumped to a conclusion. "No no, it isn't him." She had to ease his concern now with some answer. Again, the truth was not that answer, not yet atleast. Although she did intend to be honest one day about her second lover. "I'm not sure if I'm pregnant or not..." It was the only answer she could find instantly. "You know, since we had that accident?" Jack looked at her. "You mean? Wait, why didn't you say something earlier?" "I didn't want to upset you. It's a lot to take knowing that you could be the father of my child." The more she weaved her tale, the more it felt as if she was deceiving him without due care. He was more surprised than she had expected. Jack stood up from the table and thought deeply. "You need positive confirmation. You must have proper tests. I know a brilliant doctor who deals with these things. And if it is confirmed, he could also help us to abort." "What?" Helen never expected to hear him suggest abortion. "You mean you would actually have me abort our child? How could you?" She stood up and ran to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her, leaving Jack wondering what he had said. In his world, accidents like those are so easily dealt with. A child would restrict him in his job and freedom. A man of his status in life could never be tied down. He tried to enter the bedroom, but Helen was clearly behind the door blocking his entrance. He could hear her sobbing and he tried desperately to console her. "Helen, please let me in. I didn't mean to say what I did. It was very wrong of me without talking it through with you properly first. I know how these things can hurt your feelings. Abortion can't be easy." She growled out and stamped her foot. She atleast expected him to sway away from his suggestion in sympathy. Jack was determined that the only answer to such a problem was simply termination. Now she was atleast pleased in part that she had told him a lie. A new aspect to his character had been revealed, and his ideas were not what she had believed in. She continued to listen to his appeals to let him in to comfort her. The situation was equalised. He confessed his beliefs and she had told him a deliberate lie. There was no alternative but to let him in. Jack cuddled her, taking her into his arms. Helen was both glad of him being there for her and angry for what he had suggested and still believed in. "I will not mention it again," he told her. That was enough for Helen, for that moment. Harry was her top priority and she needed desperately to get in touch with the smooth talking Lothario that had taken her by storm. One thing she loved was the way Jack would caress her breasts. Has they lay in bed; the feel of his fingertips teasing her nipple had relaxed her. Jack was fascinated by her nipples in the way that they were quite distinctive on raised pink areola, excited by his gentle touch. He had never had a small-breasted woman before and he wondered if they would stay so petite. A child would surely ruin their shape and form, he thought. Helen was not the person he wanted to ruin as an icon of beauty. Infact, he had already ruined two like her when he was younger and left them both with a child to raise without him, not taking up his responsibilities as a caring father. The thoughts of guilt had made him stop in his caresses. "Don't stop it is relaxing." Helen told him. "No, wait. I think I need to say something." Helen raised herself up on her arms and looked at him. "What's that, tell me?" "I have decided that I will marry you and father our child. How does that sound to you?" "Are you serious?" Helen asked. Another disastrous episode was being created, she thought. Suddenly Jack was being serious and the truth just had to be revealed before he committed himself even more. The table had been turned in a most incredible way. Jack was willing to break his lifestyle for her and their non-existent child. "I am very serious. I love you and our child." His hand drifted onto her belly as she watched him in awe. "In here, your belly is my future. Our future. I think its time to settle down. So I wish to propose. Helen my darling, will you marry me?" She lay back and clenched her head with both hands. His proposal was not what she wanted. He was not the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. That person had not yet entered her life and Jack was taken aback by her reaction. "What is wrong?" he asked. "I thought you would be happy?" "No Jack, no. I'm sorry my love, I really am." She gritted her teeth and decided that the truth had to be revealed. "I'm not pregnant. Forgive me." Jack threw the duvet aside and stood beside the bed. He wondered what was happening to him. The woman he truly now loved was telling him lies. How could he forgive her so easily? He was willing to give up his Casanova life for her. This woman who he trusted, believed in so much. "What made you say such things?" he asked. "Why would you try to convince me that you could be carrying our child?" "Ok, I'm sorry. The truth is, I love someone else as well as you." "Someone else? No, surely you mean a lover of sorts, like my lovers. I have now realised how much I want you more than them. For months I have felt guilt knowing that you accept them and tolerate them. Tolerate me for the man I am. I was willing to give them up for you." "Do you think I'm going to believe that for one minute? I would have been your tied down wife, while you fucked every woman you fancied. No Jack, I'm being honest with you. Marriage is not the answer." "What are you saying? That I am a man who cannot change for the woman I really love? And who is this other you love? Surely not the inadequate Professor Lord?" Helen got out of bed and began to dress. "Tell me, is this why you lied to me?" Jack asked. "Yes, if the truth be known. And no, it isn't Lord. It is someone I am beginning to care for because I know he needs me more than you do." "A younger man? I knew that this would eventually happen. Another student." "No. If you must know, he is someone like those I grew up with when I was a child. A real down to earth man with a reason to struggle in life for what he wants. A man who fell into trouble believing that crime was the only means of achieving his goals. He needs me Jack and I know together we can sort things out, for him atleast." "Is this what is worrying you so much? His future, which you know he doesn't have. A common criminal who is most likely deceiving you. Are you so easy to fool? He will drop you like... a piece of shit when he has done with you." "If that is the case, then I'm happy. I don't want to spend the rest of my life with him. Not yet anyway. I have a whole world out there to seek the right man. And Jack, if you must know, you are not that man." "Then go. Go into that world out there and see how hard it is. You'll never survive." "Oh I will. Just watch me." She packed a backpack with enough clothing to see her through a few days. Jack agreed to look after her other belongings until she either saw his way of things, or she had found somewhere to stay. The night was cold and the summer weather was turning. October was almost at an end and the dark nights were getting longer. Wandering the streets in search of Harry and any information about his health and whereabouts became her priority. She searched his usual night time haunts and hideaways until the following morning, drawing a blank on every location she knew. It was also dangerous. The places and people that Harry knew were the kind you avoided at night. The scrawny little public bars, the clubs and the lodges full of alcoholic deviants who had nothing else to live for in life but petty crime. Without any sleep, it was time to go to university for her lectures and study groups. During the course of the day she found it hard to resist sleeping and whilst sitting in one of Lord's lectures, he had noticed her napping. He found it hard to disturb her and allowed her to continue sleeping, even though she became the passive ridicule of fellow students who found her occasional snoring quite funny. After he had dismissed his lecture, he waited until his students had left the lecture theatre. Helen was still sound asleep and Lord watched for a while. He perceived that something was not going well in her life. He coughed to draw her attention, which resulted in nothing. "Helen!" he called. That too did not seem to work until he decided to approach her, placing a gentle had upon her shoulder. "Helen, wake up." Eventually she opened her eyes and gained her senses. She looked at him and then around her seeing an empty theatre. "You fell asleep my dear. The lecture is over and you missed most of it." Lord explained. "Did I? I'm sorry." She felt embarrassed and packed her books and notes into the backpack. "I'd better leave, I have someone to contact." She said. Lord increased his grip on her shoulder, preventing her from leaving her seat. "Helen, what happened between you and Jack? I know things are not good. You look awfully tired, untidy and your clothes are packed in that dirty old backpack. You are homeless aren't you?" It was nothing uncommon to find one of his students wandering the streets. They leave their accommodation or fail to pay rent on their lodgings leaving them evicted. However, Lord knew her too well and Jack was seen as her protector, landlord and guardian as well as her lover. "I'm homeless, yes. Not for long though. I need to find someone urgently." "I can help you if you let me?" Lord replied. "All you have to do is accept my help and join me for dinner this evening. Then back to my place for a nice shower and a good nights rest." "No, thanks, really. It's very complicated." "Helen, nothing is too complicated for me to help you with. If you and Jack have had arguments and disagreements then I can act as a mediator. It's so simple. But I think there is more to this than just you and Jack falling out. Let me give him a call and chat with him." "No! Stay out of my damn business will you!" Helen forced her way past Lord and headed out of the lecture theatre, leaving her professor stunned by her stressed attitude, and as he watched her leave, he began to tap out Jack's number on his cell phone. Helen walked the busy street alongside the passing traffic, students and tutors heading home after their day at university. Technically, she had nowhere to go, now that she had left Jack's apartment. Everything she owned was now stored in her backpack. There was still Harry to find and so she walked across town to the house he was supposed to live in. The evening sky grew darker with rain clouds and Helen felt a cold chill as the rain began to fall. The house was deserted, its windows boarded. She went into the rear garden only to find the alabaster man size statue broken into pieces scattered across the overgrown lawn. Her search for Harry was becoming more and more desperate. Again, she tried to call him on the phone and left yet another message for him to contact her. She feared the worst of what might have happened to him. Beaten up by the rival gangs in his life, possibly left to die somewhere. Helen looked up to the sky, letting the cold raindrops fall upon her face as she sat on a rubbish container. She was soaked through to the skin as the rain increased its downpour and the darkness of the dusk darkened her surroundings. There was nowhere to go, other than make up with Jack and return to his apartment. That was the last thing she wanted at that moment in time. She decided to walk back into town, her mind racing with scenarios of all negative kinds. Halfway there her phone rang. She looked to see who it was before answering. It was Jack, trying to contact her for the umpteenth time. "Hello?" she answered. "Where are you? Why are you not answering my other calls? Are you ok my darling?" Jack's voice was desperate and demanding. He was genuinely worried for her and he needed to know her whereabouts. "I'm fine." Helen was reluctant to answer all of his caring questions. "I'm cold and wet, but then again are you really interested to know that?" "Of course I am. Let me collect you and bring you home. I think we need to talk things through more clearly and air a few thoughts about us. This situation is silly. You have things of yours here and I know you had no intentions of leaving." Helen thought about Jack's request seriously. Now that she had heard his voice, she began to feel for him, and even want him again. "You asked me to leave. I'm not sure if I should come back or not. Is there really things we need to talk about?" "Yes, lots of things. Tell me where you are." "What about my other lover? Have you had much time to think of him in our future plans?" "Right now, I don't even care how many lovers you have. Look at me, I have lots and well you know. I can live with that. I just need you here, where you belong right now. You have nowhere to go. I can hear the rain from where you are. You are walking the dangerous streets alone." Suddenly she felt good to hear him pleading to her, not in a bad way, but in a caring way. "If I have to say this a million times," he continued. "I love you Helen. Please come home." Helen... Ch. 06 Harry felt the blow hit him hard against his jaw. The pain was excruciating and he felt something snap in his chin and mouth. He fell back onto the sacks lay out against the wall of the cellar, feeling dazed and allowing the mind numbing pain to subside a little. Mick the Mong looked down at him, the perfect resemblance of a James Bond Odd Job, waiting to throw another hard punch. Harry could not speak or gain his balance as he tried desperately to stand. "Wait Mick, not yet." Martin O'Grady gave his order. "Let him come around. He'll tell us soon enough without the violence." The big man backed off, as Martin walked over to Harry, kneeling beside him. "So Harry, where did you hide the two grand?" Harry looked back at Martin, his mouth pouring with blood from a few broken teeth. "Look... Martin..." He tried to speak, but the pain was coming back hard and fast. "I don't even know what you are talking about." His words were slurred. "For fucksake mate, give me a break will ya..." "Stand up!" Martin ordered. Harry slowly raised himself to his feet, swaying. He looked at Mick the Mong waiting to throw another punch at Martin's orders. "You know about the cash. We have good information that you were hiding it. Don't even deny it. Now where is it?" "Look Martin. I really don't know what you are talking about. You have the wrong person." "I don't think so. You need to ask Kenny." He wiped his mouth, smearing the blood onto the back of his hand and felt the loosened and painful teeth with his tongue. "Fuck, that hurts. Look what you did to me. Call Mick off." He looked over at the big Chinese henchman, who was snarling back at him. "You say Kenny? Your old man? Now that is sad." Martin replied. "Not one of my boys would even think of dropping me in the shit. Because, you know what I'll do to Kenny if I have to drag him in here." "Well, I don't know anything about your money. Nothing." "Why did you run away from my boys? Isn't that guilt?" Martin gave Harry that raging look of his. "I thought they were going to do me over. Wouldn't you run?" "Mick, give him another." "Wait! No," Harry held up his hand as Mick the Mong made ready to let his fist fly once more. "I'll tell you. I know where it is. One favour though. If I tell you, you have to let me go, ok?" "I don't have to do anything. Infact, you're going to take us to the money like a good boy." Harry realised what he had said. There were no dealings with the likes of Martin O'Grady, the notorious head of the family of small time gangsters. He was a man who knew the right people to get him out of trouble, along with his sons and nephews who did most of his dirty business. The thing was, Harry really did not know where the money was and he had to think fast. He felt the blood running down his throat and coughed. A loose tooth spat from his mouth. "Oh shit Martin, did Mick have to hit me so hard? It's going to cost me an arm and a leg at the dentist." Martin grabbed hold of his arm and pushed him up the basement steps and through the house followed by the mighty Mick. Outside, a saloon car was waiting. Martin was determined to find his money at any cost. If Harry did not take them to it, then the next stop for him was a hole on the moors, forever. Harry noticed one of Martin's nephews at the wheel. Barney was another feared member of the family and probably one of the cruellest of all when it came to convenient disposals. He had murdered and maimed atleast a dozen as far as Harry knew. They were considered as "low life" victims, fellow criminals whom the police had wrote off as bad surplus to societies requirements. Harry did not want to be added to that list. A rush of adrenalin and fear helped Harry break free from Martins grip. The leather jacket he wore was an asset and like the wind he was free to run. Mick and Barney followed with haste, but Harry was fitter than them, out running them as he dodged through alleyways and hid behind trash bins. Housing projects were one of Harry's battlefields from his youth days and hiding from bad guys was no mean task for him. He found a safe place behind an abandoned and wrecked car. He stayed low as Barney and Mick became lost and confused just metres away. Finally they gave up their search and headed back to Martin and his wrath. Harry relaxed, staying put for a while until the coast was clear and cursing the blood on the front of his best white shirt. "Ay! Are you ok?" The voice appeared as if from nowhere. Harry looked up and he saw the girl standing next to him. She was dark haired and an obvious member of the rough local community. He dress sense was cheap, yet reasonable, a short skirt and a top that revealed ample cleavage with a plastic zipper jacket in luminous pink. "Does it look as if I'm ok? Give us a hand." Harry held out his hand for a helping pull back onto his feet. He looked around to see if it was safe. Another lucky escape it seemed and just one of many. "What's your name?" he asked. "Saskia." The girl replied. Harry reckoned she was in her mid teens, on of many who would rather spend time at home and with mates rather than finishing off the state education poorly offered. In a community like that, with unemployment running high it was the norm. Sometimes the poverty was self-induced through drug addiction or alcohol dependency, people loosing touch with the real world. However, Harry was a little cut above the rest of them. He used his wits to perfect his scams and fiddles in life. It was enough to get on and survive, his drugs and alcohol addiction kept to a reasonable minimum. "Have you been beat up?" Saskia asked. "You look awful." "Yes, you could say that. Where do you live?" Harry asked. The girl pointed to one of the nearby flats on the third floor. Harry needed help with his one punch injury. He needed to clean up and seek medical help as his lips and face swelled up. Even talking was becoming more and more difficult and painful. Saskia's flat was humble and tidy. It was a small place that was issued by the local council for rent. "Where are you parents?" Harry enquired. "This place is a bit small isn't it?" She looked back at him with a quizzical look. "What?" "This is my place. I live here on my own." "Oh right." Harry reasoned that Saskia was old enough to rent a flat and not as young as he thought. "I need your bathroom." Saskia shown him the way and left him to it as she tried to be sociable by making coffee in the kitchen. Harry looked into the mirror and saw the extent of his injuries. One tooth missing and a very swollen bottom lip and tongue. He washed out his mouth with tepid water from the tap and then washed his face, discovering that his jaw ached like hell. Coffee was not what he wanted. He moved his lower jaw from side to side feeling a click and a sure sign of dislocation. Mick certainly knew how to throw a heavy punch. The thought of more punches being delivered scared Harry. He considered himself very lucky, until next time. Saskia laid a cup of coffee on the low table in the lounge with two painkillers for him to take. It was all she could do for him. He was a stranger and she was unsure of his background. In a community like this she had to be careful. Running away and hiding as a police witness to a murder hundreds of miles away, the flat was a security location. She was just coming to terms with it and trying to fit in as best she could. She was also lonely, absent from old mates and her parents. The whole thing was becoming a living nightmare. Harry settled down on the easy chair and looked around. His host sat watching him very closely. She was quite a looker he thought after some consideration. His curiosity was getting the better of him as he swallowed the pain-easing tablets without the coffee. "So, how does a girl like you get to live alone in a place like this?" he asked. A bad statement. "I can't tell you, it's private." She sipped the coffee. "So, how come a guy like you got beat up?" She turned his question around. Harry tried to smile but it hurt. "You need a hospital. You look a mess. Want me to take you. I do have a car." "A car? In an area like this? How do you stop it from getting stolen or worst still, wrecked?" "The garages are secure. It's just a risk getting in and out of them. Tell me what happened?" "I can't tell you. Do you have a phone I could use? I need to call someone." "You need a bath. You don't half pong mate." "Yeah I know, I've been kept in a cellar for a few days." "Kidnap? Did someone think you were rich and famous, then discovered you wasn't and beat the fuck out of your face?" Saskia was straight to the point, but then Harry expected her to be. He tried to laugh of the question. Him, rich and famous? He wished he were. Saskia found her cell phone and handed to him. With haste, he tapped out the number he urgently required. Helen lay soaking amid the bubbles in her bath, listening to soothing ambient music through her ear-phones oblivious to the fact her phone was ringing in the spacious living room. Jack was putting on his tie to attend a business meeting later that day. He realised that Helen was otherwise occupied and he answered it with curiosity. The display telling him that a person named Harry was calling. "Hello, who is this?" "Hi. Is Helen there?" Harry's struggling voice asked. Jack became even more curious. Who was this Harry calling his girlfriend? Another admirer? He had forgotten that Helen had mentioned him in passing. "Look mate, is she available. I need to talk to her, it's urgent." "No "mate" you listen to me, whoever you might be, she is not interested, ok?" "She's in danger. You will do. It's important you tell her, ok?" "Danger? What do you mean in danger? Are you taking the piss?" "No. This is genuine, trust me. Tell her the O'Grady's are probably looking for her and I'm ok for the moment atleast. She knows who I mean. She knows the score mate." "Ok, I'll pass it on. But you listen... I don't want you bothering her again." Jack quickly disconnected and head to the bathroom. He saw Helen chilled and relaxed and kissed her forehead. She was pleasantly surprised and sat up, removing the earphones to respond with kiss on his lips. "You can be so romantic sometimes..." But, jack was only being nice. He was concerned more about Harry's call and what it meant. "What is the matter?" Helen asked. "A call from Harry. He said you are in danger..." They both sat at the dinning table, Helen dressed in her bathrobe, open at the front and displaying herself to Jack who she trusted explicitly with her body. She explained to him about Jack and how he had gone missing for days. Then she explained the threat of the O'Grady family and how it was all tied in together. Jack was not impressed and he was growing angry about every part of her explanation as it progressed like a horror story, unfolding with danger. He was also concerned for her safety, her life even. Her description of the gang was not easy to take. He had heard of such things going on in England's rough neck communities. The same happened to a lesser extent in France. "Why did you get involved with such things?" he asked. "This Harry has led you into a mad and dangerous position. How can you get out of it? How does that affect us?" "Jack, I think you should let me deal with it. Trust me, I'll be fine. I need to bring Harry here so that we are both safe. The gang will never find us here. Please trust me." "Oh no! You can fuck that idea right away. My home here is yours and mine now. Do you think I should share it with a common criminal? They will find him, and that puts us both in danger with these idiot low lives. I'm not having it. I have thought it through as you explained things to me. We have to negotiate something." "Negotiate? What do you mean exactly?" Helen asked. There could be nothing to deal with this like some friendly game. The situation was bad. "You can't..." "We can, it's simple. I know how these gangs think. If they want this Harry so much, then the threat can be lifted from you. Tell me where they can find him and we hand him over. Problem solved, it's easy." Helen was disgusted by Jack's suggestion. She stood up and headed towards the bedroom, shutting the door and locking Jack out. She lay down on the bed and thought. "You fucked him didn't you?" Jack asked from behind the door. "You have a close relationship with this Harry. I know you do. He means a lot to you and he isn't worth it." Saskia pulled up in her small saloon outside of the hospital accident and emergency department. Harry looked at her, not sure if he should be thanking her. He would rather not be there because of too many questions that could asked. He can not exactly tell them the O'Grady's had been involved, as even the hospital staff could be part of their wall of silence. "Will you wait for me?" he asked. "If I must, yes I'll wait." Saskia gave him the reply he wanted. He was dependant on her and her car to move around. He knew that the more you kept on moving, the more unlikely they were of being found. He also knew how much risk he was putting Saskia in, and it was best telling her nothing. He had to protect her and Helen now. One innocent helpful stranger and a woman he loved to boot. The hospital was busy and there was a considerable amount of waiting time. Harry tried to swing it with the reception, telling them that he suspected a punctured lung and in need of immediate attention. The receptionist reasoned that he had no such fatal injury and told him to wait with the rest. He was suspicious of others waiting. One of them could be a spy, expecting him to turn up at the accident and emergency for a quick and easy pick up. There was nowhere he could run if they did. The whole situation was risky. Saskia walked in and that was all that Harry needed. She sat beside him and looked at him. "I'll stay with you and make sure you get treatment. I can't just leave you." "I told you to wait for me." Harry was now desperate. If the expected spy had seen her with him, then she was definitely in danger. There was nothing he could do. "You should have waited in your car." "No. I'm here now and I'll stay. Why are you so fucking concerned anyway? I thought you would want me to be at your side?" "Yeah but..." The answer he wanted to give her was not appropriate. "Ok, be it your way. Thanks babe." "And don't call me babe. I'm not your babe, ok?" Harry noticed one of the waiting casualties staring at him. If anything he thought, he could be one of O'Grady's spies. The man seemed over interested, too concerned with checking him out for some reason. He stood up and made his way to the gents bathroom, probably to make a quick call. Harry gulped and envisioned what he now assumed to be his capture. Within minutes the man returned and walked right over to Harry and Saskia. "Don't I know you?" he asked, pointing his finger. "I do, I know you..." "No mate, I've never seen you before." Harry was convinced. The man had his hand wrapped in a makeshift bandage stained with blood. He took his place beside him, smiling and nodding his head slowly. "Yeah, I know you. You are Kenny's boy. Last time I saw you, you were fourteen years old. Your old man and me go back a few years. We served in the Royal Marines together. Of course not long after I last saw you I did time in prison. Not for the bad things I did. Some silly burglary I did." Harry looked at the man's injured hand. "Oh that. I picked up a knife the wrong way around. Stupid or what?" "So you know Kenny? Does he know you are around? Have you seen him?" Harry asked. "Not yet. I can't find him. Maybe you could give me his number?" "No way. You give me your number to give to him. Do you think I'm stupid?" Harry looked at him cautiously. The man grinned at Harry's reply. "What's so funny?" "Nothing kid, nothing. You are very wise." The man took out a calling card from the inside of his jacket pocket. "Here, give him this. I'm back in business if he wants to know." Harry took it and read it: G.K. Hoffman, private services. "Are you the G? What is the G for?" "Gerry. I do personal services and not those services you are thinking about either. I'm like a private detective, a difficult situation tidy man. You tell Kenny to contact me." Hoffman was called for attention, leaving Harry with his contact details. What he did was a little hard to comprehend. What was a difficult situation tidy-up-er? Whatever it was, Harry had to let Kenny know his friend was back in town. He tried to cast his mind back to when he was fourteen, but nothing came to mind regarding the man or his identity. Helen... Ch. 07 Jack's attitude had suddenly changed. He was no longer the open-minded man that Helen had become used to. The urgent call from Harry had changed him. He became more protective and hostile and Helen was desperately fighting him off most of the time. He had a plan to remove the danger from her life that she did not agree with and Jack was adamant that it was the right thing to do. However, the love she had for Harry ran far too deep to betray him. The night Jack received the call from Harry the tension began to grow between them. Helen had locked herself in the bedroom and jack was in possession of her mobile cell phone. Every time Harry called, jack cancelled it and removed all text messages sent from him. He perpetually called to Helen through the bedroom door, telling her that betraying Harry was the right thing to do because he loved her and wanted nobody else but her. She could no longer stand him pleading with her, sometimes softly and other times frighteningly aggressive. She packed a backpack once again and decided that it was time to leave once more. She opened the bedroom door, dressed to leave instantly. "Get out of my way!" she told Jack pushing him away and dashing to the apartment door. He grabbed he arm and tried desperately to restrain her, but her adrenalin rush had given extra energy to push herself free. "I'm not coming back this time. I accepted you as you always was." She told him. "Now you've changed." She snatched the phone from his hand and left. Jack was in shock. He had never expected her to leave him in that way. Once she was free that cold rainy late evening, she tried to call Harry. His phone was switched off and as she walked the streets trying to find space, she had realised that there was no other place to go. She needed to be in one stable location at all times in order to continue her studies. Leaving jack was just simply futile. There had to be a way she could convince him that she was safe in her own opinion. Both Harry and Jack were not thinking clearly, she thought. She saw no threat to her life because she knew nothing about the gangs that was possibly useful to anyone. On her way back to the apartment she tried to call Harry. She had no information from him that told her how he faired personally. She assumed that he was still in hiding somewhere and even if Jack wanted to deal with the O'Grady gang, he had nothing to deal with yet whilst Harry remained underground. She tapped on the apartment door after using the numerical code to enter the secure building. She still had a door key, but she wanted Jack to answer. She wanted him to forgive her, hoping that he would understand why she left. Jack responded and opened the door. "I thought you had left me for good?" "I can't." She looked up into his eyes and then hugged him tightly. Jack instinctively accepted returning the affection. "I'm sorry," she whispered repeatedly. The two had once again found their affection for each other so it seemed. Jack was thinking something else beyond affection. He had to show her that he meant business and her running away from him was not good for his self-pride. He saw himself as the dominant protector now that things had become dangerous for them both. The walk through the rain drenched Helen and she removed the backpack, resting it onto the floor. Jack locked the front door once she was inside. She turned to look at him, wanting more of his affection. Jack folded his arms, body language that told her that he was not going to give her any at that moment in time. "You are soaking wet. I think you should strip off those clothes." "Yes, good idea, I need to shower and relax." "No. Just strip now. No shower." Jack demanded. Helen thought the demand was not his usual nature. "Do it!" He snapped out his words. She wondered if this was a game he wanted to play because she ran away again, or atleast attempted to. "Are you serious?" she asked with a quizzical smile. "Of course I'm serious. If you don't, then I will." "Wait... you are suggesting that I strip or you will rape me or something like that?" "Yes, exactly. The Professor told me all about your plan, confirming to me that is what you liked. Am I correct? Is that true? That you have a rape fetish?" "Er... not exactly a fetish..." "Then what? Let me test you on that. Strip off all of your clothes now." "Wait... I don't think this is a good time to play out these games..." Before she could finish her statement, Jack lurched forward and pushed her onto the couch. He held his hand around her throat, not too hard, but hard enough to scare her. His eyes stared into hers with meaningful objectivity. She looked back at him, realising that his grip was not exactly hurting or choking her. "Ok you bitch, shall I continue?" He asked. She nodded and somehow thought the whole act was no longer unpleasant. Infact, it was becoming quite erotic, just like the time when she and the professor were discussing the act of premeditated rape and surprise. Was Jack now doing it for him? she thought. Jack clutched at her denim jeans, unfastening them in haste whilst still restraining her by the neck. He pulled them down as far as he could and then with both hands he lifted her and turned her around, pushing her head into the backrest of the couch. In that position he could pull down the jeans to the bottom of her thighs, restraining her legs together. Then with one almighty pull, he ripped apart her lace panties, exposing her whilst still pushing her against the couch with one arm. "OK bitch, I'm going to fuck you both ways until you beg me to stop." Those words reminded her of the professor once more. They were the kind of words that he would have used whilst fucking his late wife, especially on the night she had accidentally died during the sex act. Jack wasted no time in freeing his hardness and using its head to seek out her anus between her cheeks. With one almighty thrust he entered her sharply. Helen was not accustomed to harsh anal penetration, but that no longer mattered. It hurt her at first and then the pain turned very quickly to pleasure. Although she was unable to spread her thighs wider, Jack found it easy to thrust into her with vigour. Helen gripped the back of the couch, feeling every single pounding thrust of his hard cock. She could feel the tingling pleasures of it inside as it touched a similar g-spot to the one within her vagina. But then Jack stopped and withdrew, sliding his penis up and down between both orifices. "Please don't stop." Helen softly whispered, her head buried into the backrest of the couch. "Oh you want more you dirty fucking bitch?" Jack shouted. "Ok bitch, take this!" He thrust deep into her tightened vagina. This time, unlike the anal, which was dry and rough, his penetration was easier and less harsh. Helen felt no pain as his cock smoothed its way between her buttocks and into her liquid love soaked yOni. What was now different than normal was the way he pounded into her. She had always insisted in being taken from behind gently to gain more control on tightness. This was surely rough now, and if it were real rape she would be scared even more. The rapist would come inside of her without regards for consequences. Would Jack do the same? Would he really meaningfully defile her like a real rapist? Her emotions suddenly became mixed. She was almost close to her orgasmic peak and likewise for Jack. It was the halfway point of no return for both of them. Nothing could stop it until it ended, and soon it did as they clearly climaxed together. Jack's hot spunk merged like a torrent with her juices within. Suddenly the sex act had reached its most wettest as Jack began to recover quickly from his orgasmic release. Helen wanted more from the act now. The fear factor had subsided and she was enjoying every single moment and thrust of his cock as it softened gently until she could no longer hold it inside of her. Jack settled back, kneeling. She turned to sit and look at him. His pleasure and wildness had turned to remorseful tears. He lowered his head and sobbed. Helen realised that he had committed an act that he never truly wanted to take part in. Something the professor had discussed with him and Jack had used it as a dominating punishment. Yet Jack was not a Dom in any sense. He believed in free spirits when it came to sex, and it seemed that the professor had encouraged him to go against his grain. Helen knelt before him and hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry my love. I did not mean to do that." "Hush... it's ok, I understand. I've put you under lots of pressure lately and I've pushed you too hard. This affair with Harry is too much for both of us. Maybe I'm not thinking straight. This is all new to me. I thought Harry and I had connected somehow, but I think I'm wrong." Their hug had tightened, and eventually it led to a kiss that both of them appreciated. It had been a while since they kissed so passionately, full of meaning and a true expression of their love for each other. Harry had gone into hiding at Saskia's flat. He tried desperately to contact Kenny, but his phone was switched off. He made a point of reading Helen's text messages, thirteen in all as if it mattered. Her message was clear, she needed to see him desperately and she reminded him that the danger of being found by the O'Grady gang was more his danger rather than hers. She mentioned nothing about Jack's plans, although now she was more convinced that Harry had to seek protection from the law. Harry thought differently. Going to the police was not an alternative to escape the gang. He had committed minor crimes and the police would definitely throw the book at him. Saskia was now his only hope for salvation. He soon discovered that she was lonely in her own hiding from other problems elsewhere, and like the lothario he portrayed to be, it was not long before he made advances. Saskia however had shown some rejection. She was not only lonely and desperate in many ways. She was also a virgin, conscious of who she should chose to provide her with the right kind of love to forfeit her status. For a start, they had only just met. Together thy sat in her tiny living room discussing their situation. Again, Harry stressed the dangers that he may have brought upon her for being involved. "Look babe, I'm sorry about all this..." "I'm not your babe. How many times do I have to remind you!" "Ok, ok... just a figure of speech. Although you could be my babe." Harry was quick to suggest. "Where am I going to sleep? Your bed?" "You are dreaming. There is no way you are sleeping with me. Besides, you have a girlfriend." "Well, she's not exactly a girlfriend. More of a mate." Saskia looked hard at him. She now realised how much of a lothario he was denying his relationship with Helen. Previously he had explained to her the situation and all was supposed to be good. Now he was trying to get into her panties at the nearest possibility. "You know, I ran away from someone like you," she told him. "You are so pathetic. How can you even think about shagging someone else?" "No wait. I'm not trying it on babe... sorry. I'm thinking about you. You might need some company while I'm here. And if you want I'm willing to show you my care and appreciation for what you have done for me. And your couch doesn't look that comfortable." She could not believe his brash forwardness. It was so pathetic. She had heard those appeals from so many other men recently. Although he was quite handsome and she had thought about the possibility of resigning herself to him, but her intentions to pick the right person was foremost. "What are you running away from?" Harry had to ask to satisfy his curiosity. Saskia did not feel the time was right to reveal those facts to anyone. Harry was a stranger and the police informed her that she should be careful whom she trusted. "It sounds serious." "It is, but I can't tell you. You don't really need to know." "Try me." Harry was persistent. He felt that he did need to know as a means of getting closer to her. He had noticed, despite her resistance, that she fancied him in a certain way. He was quick to notice these things by passed experiences. The look she gave him and the way her eyes followed every single move when she thought he had not noticed. "You can trust me you know. I am willing to trust you. I have got you involved with my problems. We should share them." "Look, lets skip that. You can stay here for as long as it is needed. Just keep your fucking problems away from my door, is that clear?" "Sure, no problem babe... er sorry." His persistence to call her "babe" was not a mistake any longer. He saw a weakness and he wanted to use it to break the ice-cold wall between them. In his mind, she was just another girl to lay and then abandon when someone new showed up. Now it became clear why he had cut off communication with Helen. He was concerned, but his agenda was now one of masculine instinct and sexual conquest. Saskia was proving hard to get, which provided a challenge that he had to face to satisfy his male pride and ego. David Lord sat his desk in the private office the university gave him to use. He was tapping out some notes on his laptop with office door open as usual. The noise of passing students along the echoing corridor outside never seemed to bother him. He was able to switch off to the outside world and focus his thinking on whatever he was doing. Helen stood at the open door for almost a minute before he looked up and noticed her. "Hi, Helen. Come in, take a seat." She kept her eyes focused upon him as she pulled up a chair and placed it at his desk, sitting and resting her attaché case beside her. "Can I help you?" he asked, realising that her stare meant business, a serious look, the look she gave everyone when something was on her mind. "How is Jayne?" "She's fine thank you. Can I offer you some coffee? I have plenty in my thermos. I always bring three with me. I hate the refectory and machine coffee..." "Did you discuss our talk to Jack?" she interrupted. "Did you tell him everything?" She kept her gaze firmly upon his eyes as if trying to penetrate his mind. David felt as if he was about to be grilled and looked down submissively. "You mean the rape scenario?" "Yes. Well, did you?" Ok, I'll admit it. I did. I thought it best that Jack carry out your fantasy. He understood my situation regarding that. After thinking about it I didn't think it was right for me to carry it out. He is your lover and after all..." He paused to think. "I am still grieving my wife's unfortunate death after all of these years." She began to sympathise with him once he had mentioned his wife. It struck her as being honest and sincere. Yet the feeling of having her confidence betrayed by him was still an issue. An issue that had stuck in her mind knowing that Jack would never do to her what he did and then instantly regret it. She had studied the game play too intensively to let it go. She needed answers to stem her curiosity and atleast have David's admittance. "You look upset?" David asked. "I hope that it didn't..." He realised that he was using the past tense and Helen would not notice. "I mean I hope if he carries it out eventually he doesn't hurt you." That morning Jack had called him. Jack was sobbing, telling him that he had done the deed and how. Their conversation was not for Helen to know or find out. He looked at her, wondering how she would react next, but she had blanked him, thinking. He was struck by her beauty again and the irresistible urge to carry out his secret act of desire. In essence, he wanted her so much. There was a jealousy between him and Jack that lay dormant within him. The way Jack had described what he had done in detail aroused him. "No, he didn't hurt me. I liked it." Her mind focused, replaying what had happened and how it felt to be taken. But there was one problem she had to resolve, and that was, she had preferred David to do it, not her lover. Her fantasy had been disrupted, not as it should have been and certainly not upsetting Jack the way it did. "Look, I apologise if it wasn't the way you wanted it. I looked at you both very carefully before I decided it wasn't right the way we vaguely planned it. I saw the way you and Jack love each other and asked myself, was it fair." "It upset him. Did you ever think about that?" she asked. "No, I didn't. I should have I suppose." It had been a long time since David had participated in sex. The night he paid a prostitute to give him a blowjob was the last time. It was months ago and that was out of desperation to be relieved. Jayne and he were just friends and he would never lower himself to ask her to do it. Besides, he respected the fact that Jayne was now a dedicated lesbian with no desire for men, apart from their friendship. Helen was different. In her he recognised the ability to be subjugated, a young woman trying to find her own sexual lifestyle. David stood from his desk and walked over to close his office door quietly and turn the key. "Helen, I have something I want to do right now. And, I know you want me to do it." Helen turned to look at him. She did not fancy him or have any sexual love for him, yet she knew what was on his mind. The turning of the door key gave it all away. "I want to make amends for my error in judgement." He explained. "I realise what I have done." Helen stood up and waited. "I feel inside that I have let you down. So, now I'm going to fuck you, but not rape. I need your consent for me to do it. That would satisfy us both I think." Her heart began to beat faster as she listened to his words. The unexpected surprise of his intentions made it all the more arousing, although she was not sure how to react physically. It was up to him to make the moves and give out the orders. "I want you to strip, remove all of your clothes without finding excuses not to." Helen removed her clothing slowly as David watched. She kept her stare fixed firmly upon him. He began to get aroused as one of his greatest desires unfolded before his very eyes. The desire that encouraged him to masturbate, yet resist that temptation on many occasions. His imagined vision of seeing her in the natural naked beauty that nature or god had gifted her. He stopped her as she stripped down to her white panties. "Just stand there for a while and let me look at you." She stood, almost to attention as he moved closer to her. His hand slowly reached for her belly to feel the soft skin around her belly button. He breathed in deeply, sensing her perfume that only made him feel more aroused. As if by natural instinct, Helen lowered her head in resignation, feeling his fingertips drifting over her skin towards the waistband of her remaining single piece of underwear. His hand slipped inside gently and began to explore her shaved and smooth mound until they settled upon her damp and warm sex. It was part of the act and Helen wanted him to touch her in that way. Helen raised her head with her eyes closed, giving out a soft satisfying sigh as he placed one finger between her outer lips. "You like that don't you?" he asked. She nodded her reply. "You want me to touch you don't you?" Again, she nodded in response. Then he probed deeper, feeling her warm moistening velvet domain, seeking out her vagina so that he could hook his finger deeper inside. He watched her reaction. That look upon her face so beautiful in his eyes made him want more. He wanted to taste her, smell her scent and arousal. "Sit on my desk." He almost commanded, although not intentional. If she had been his lover then the command would have been more demanding. Helen leaned against the desk then she raised her legs sitting on its edge comfortably. Slowly she allowed him to slide away her panties as he knelt before her. As he removed them from her ankles she instinctively opened up her thighs revealing to him her full feminine sex, watching him as he looked at her most private part, exposed and partly open, her soft pink inner lips neatly folded. Then his eyes looked up at her breasts, small and petite. To him they were nubile and they reminded him of those breasts upon the bodies of the erotic nymphs in the paintings that he had collected with such dedication over the years. Those paintings were his erotic stimulation. The thoughts of having them made him hard and suffer the denial of masturbation. He wanted something real; the flesh of a real nymph and Helen was that person who could give him that satisfaction to and fulfil his wishes. Helen... Ch. 07 He moved closer, parting her thighs a little more so that he could sense her sweetness, the aroma of a mature young woman, well kept and perfect in every way. His tongue tasted her outer lips and then deeper, parting her until it settled upon her clitoris, the swollen nub of pleasure that instantly made her moan softly as he allowed his tongue to gently stroke it. Helen had never sensed such sensual softness before. Her past lovers had always treated it with vigour as if they were hungry and desperate to taste her. Even Jack was not as gentle as David. She savoured his tongue and the way he used it. It made her feel good and the quickness of her tingles in reaching an orgasmic level made her want to cum for him, not fast, but slowly and more lasting. To her it was the best oral sex that she had experienced as his tongue explored every single part of her sex. She leaned further back on her arms, allowing him better and more open access, raising one leg as both his finger and tongue pleasured her. She gave him as much liquid love as she could muster, for him to savour and drink as she held on to her orgasm, letting him know that what he was doing was good by giving out continual soft moans of pleasure. David knew exactly what he was doing. It reminded him of the days of his youth, the days before he met his wife, and the days he too had realised his sexual requirements as a Dom. In his youth he had conquered many women and girls with his charm and looks. He found it easy to talk to them and cajole them into submission. Over the years his maturity and settling down with his ideal partner had some how mellowed his temperament towards sex. Besides, he was not as handsome has he once was, age and experienced had honed him into the man he was now, a respectable Dom, seeking out something more exotic and satisfying. Helen lay back and signified that she was ready to feel him inside of her. David freed his manhood, as he played upon her clitoris, gently rubbing with his finger, keeping her orgasmic senses high. If there was a barrier between them, then it was now dissolved. It was time to complete the act. "Don't cum inside," she almost whispered. It was the only thing she insisted upon and David was willing to oblige. He knew the inevitable consequences if he did cum inside. His spunk was potential, probably more than ever after months of holding back and he knew it would be fast and furious. He slid himself slowly within her and again Helen realised that no man or boy had ever penetrated her so gently until then. He was hard and he pushed himself to the limit. He felt big and so thick, although she could not see his cock, the feel of it was enough to gauge its size. And then it began. His thrusts began to increase as his moans became more and more intense. To her it was like the others, as if there seemed to be no other way. Men were like that she thought. When it came to fucking they became overwhelmed with lust that they had only one intention and that was to cum. Soon it was over. She felt him withdraw and then the warm splash of his charge hitting her body. Covering her breasts and then her belly as the streams of man-cum were depleted in the shower, the sound of him grunting out every last drop as he stroked his cock. Their orgasms quick and over in almost an instant. Something that she had learned by past experience and recently discovered through her studies that men did that for survival. The fuck and run theory as it was still considered. Yet, David had nothing to run away from and nor did any of the others. Helen... Ch. 08 Harry was becoming increasingly attracted to his new-found-friend. Saskia was cold towards him still, only offering her companionship to protect him from the gang he was hiding from. Her flat was becoming more and more his domain as the week passed by and Saskia did not mind either. She had someone around to break the loneliness, the solitude of hiding away from danger. Harry was very conscious of the danger he too was bringing to Saskia just by being there. For Helen, life continued as normal. She attended her lectures as if nothing happened between her and the professor. He too showed no obvious signs that he and she had played around. Although Helen could not forget that day. David was someone, to her, that seemed to have shown her a new horizon when it came to relationships and sex. She had realised how strong her submissive side was and enjoyed it. In the past she would hide it, thinking that it was a weakness. She had now realised it was also a powerful position to have when it came to such things. Jack was becoming more depressed and work was being disrupted by his concerns over Helen's safety, and his too. His lady friends began to notice how much he had changed since Helen moved in to his apartment and they had stopped visiting him there. Helen had not yet told him about the morning that David fucked her. They sat down to dinner as usual, a wall of silence between them, with only the sound of smooth classical jazz playing in the background. It was Friday night and neither of them had any plans for that weekend. "David told me everything." Helen broke the silence. Jack looked back at her. He was shocked slightly, not expecting to even hear David's name being uttered. "What did he tell you?" "What you and he had planned and discussed. The other night when you forced me to have sex. He admitted his part in it and how he thought you should do it and not him." "I would rather forget it if you don't mind. It was not easy for me." "He has a certain power over you doesn't he?" Helen asked. Jack wondered exactly what she was hinting. She seemed calm and matter-of-fact, showing very little emotion. He felt as if he was being interrogated. "He made you do it. Forced you. Convinced you." "Wait. What are you talking about?" "You know what I'm talking about. David is that kind of person. He controls people very skilfully. The nice persona he has also hides something deep inside. He can convince you of anything he wants." "I was not manipulated. He merely suggested I carry out what you and he had planned originally." "Even though you hated doing it. I understand, no need to explain that." Jack remained quiet as his mind thought it through. She was correct, David had convinced him that it was his duty and that was what she wanted. He knew too that if he was the one to carry out her fantasy then it was best he did it rather than her professor. He objected to both at first and then resigned to it, knowing that was what David wanted, even if Jack did not himself agree with the act. Afterall, it was just a game, but Jack wanted to get back at Helen for running out on him that evening and it seemed appropriate to carry it through at the time, as punishment. "I don't normally do those kinds of things." Jack replied. "Ok, I admit it. And you know how it hurt me to do it. I'm not the cruel dominating man. I love you because I feel that way about you, above all of the other women I know. You to me are... you are like my younger sister who needs protecting. And at the same time our love is much different." "He fucked me." Helen let her words go freely, breaking his explanations which she did not care too much to hear. She knew what kind of love they shared. Jack lifted his glass and drank, then slowly rested it back onto the table. "He did what?" "I let him fuck me." She stared at him, watching how he was reacting. It was something he did not want to hear. Yet, he agreed at the beginning that she could see and have sex with anyone she wished, as long as he too could enjoy such privileges. He had to be careful now. If he reacted badly, then it would obviously show a change in how he thought. "That's fine. Did you enjoy it? Was he what you expected?" "Infact, he was a lot better than I had expected. It was quite gentle. Probably the first time anyone had fucked me in such a caring way." She could see him struggling and fighting with his inner emotions. It was what she wanted to see, not through malice, but through curiosity. Jack held on to his feelings. The whole conversation was becoming a cold-war situation. A mind game. A human game of chess without the pieces, to see which one would break first. She wanted him to admit that he cared for her. He did not want to show how much he had changed his mind about her. "Do you still see your girl friends? You haven't mentioned them in a while." "You know I can't bring them back here. It would not be right since you moved in." "What happened to those thoughts you had about having threesome trysts? I was quite looking forwards to being part of them. Who knows, I might have liked them. I am quite capable of making love to another woman if I think she would satisfy my needs." "I don't think we should talk about that." Jack replied. "Why not? Does it bother you? I might even let Jayne show me a thing or two." "Stop it. You are going too far. This conversation is leading us both nowhere." "I know for a fact that you wanted to see Jayne and I get it on. That is your fantasy, to watch me have sex with another woman, and perhaps jump in yourself. But Jayne is a lesbian..." "I said stop it!" Jack left the table, his meal hardly touched and no longer required. Helen was winning her battle and yet she did not see that Jack was depressed and the whole game was unfair on his behalf. "I don't want to hear anymore about David or Jayne," he explained. "That day we had together was about making new friends. It was not about having sex or an orgy..." "You wanted to fuck her. Admit it." "I fancied her, ok? I like lots of attractive women. But it doesn't mean I want to fuck them. Like you said, she isn't interested in me. She wanted you." "You noticed? Or should I say, you knew and David planned it? It's ok, he told me all about it." "What did he tell you?" Jack realised there and then that David has revealed everything to her. But, he had not. He returned to the table and looked at her. "It was just fun. Yes, we planned it all that evening, but you turned cold towards her. David and I thought it might be interesting to see what happened between you and Jayne. The whole thing would have been a terrible mistake." "It was then you knew how much you cared about me?" "To be honest, yes it was." "Are you and David still friends?" "Weirdly enough, we are. I find him intriguing. He is the expert in these things. It is what he studies and teaches, and you know that. And yes, he makes suggestions that I find intriguing. He is a man who knows how I think and what I like, and I find it hard to resist him." Helen had squeezed out the answers she wanted. David had a certain control over Jack and it confirmed everything she thought. If David told him to experiment then Jack would do it, even if he did not want to. In a way, the professor was the Dom in both their cases. That led her to a final question she had to know the answer to. "Do you fancy him? I mean sexually?" she asked. Jack looked at her, this time not surprised at her question because it was seeking out a truth. Jack did find David sexually attractive. For a long time now he had been hiding from what he had regarded as being unusual. He was bi and thought that admitting to such things would harm his status and career, even his relationships with other women. "Whatever you do, you must never tell a soul beyond these walls." Jack pleaded for her confidence. "I could never live with people knowing that." "Surely David knows that?" "No. I have restraint for my sexual feelings. I just enjoy him for his solid guidance and advice. I like to follow his instructions, carry them through, no matter how much I regret doing them afterwards." Helen could identify with that. She did not think that David was a person she could fall in love with, but she too enjoyed his dominance, no matter who else she loved. David's love seemed different somehow, power and control over her sexual weaknesses, which she accepted. That evening was a time for revelation. The game was now over. They looked at each other across the table, their meal hardly eaten. She felt the urge to make love and equally, so did he. She wanted to tell him how much she wanted him to take her, rough and demanding with submissive resignation. The fantasy of playing out the act of rape without the unknowns of being violated by a stranger. "I want you to fuck me, like you did the last time." She requested. Jack however was not prepared to do that. He could never hurt her in that way again. "It's ok, I want you to do it." He saw her request as an order. But this time it was from the person he respected in a different way to David. "I can't do it. Not again." "Why not?" He explained his feelings towards her. The love he had which was not motivated by violence, only caring for her safety, the gentle satisfaction of her needs. Helen thought about it and accepted his answer, setting her limits that seemed convenient for both of them, the way it was before and how it was since their first time together. The sun shone through the windows of the flat, waking Harry from his sleep on the couch. That always annoyed him in the mornings. He looked at the clock on the shelf, which told him it was almost noon. Everything was as it had been before he fell asleep, after the friendly game of cards he and Saskia played until late into the that morning. He realised that Saskia was still sleeping in her bedroom and he had decided to surprise her with a cup of fresh coffee, which may help to break the wall a little more between them. He wanted sex badly and she was his chosen partner. Slowly he opened the bedroom door holding her favourite mug of coffee, not wanting to wake her until he had set up the surprise. Saskia lay on her bed, the duvet in a heap on the floor. She was naked, still fast asleep on her back. He did not expect to find her that way, but he too was pleasantly surprised. Now he could glimpse the flattened roundness of her breasts and the thick tuft of pubic hair that covered her mound. He hesitated, wondering if he should just admire the beauty she portrayed or gently cover her before waking her up. His desire to make love to her was now in his mind more than ever before. He was becoming hard, spurred on by the erotic sight. However, he was also a gentleman in nature, to take her there and them would be obtrusive, it would most definitely spoil his chances, and the security she provided him with. He set the mug of coffee on the pink bedside cabinet and sat beside her. "Saskia," he whispered, then again louder. She opened her eyes slowly. "It's only me. I brought you some coffee." She suddenly realised her predicament of being totally exposed and screamed out, sitting up and covering her breasts with her arm. One hand conveniently covering her sex. Harry jumped up and stepped away. "Wait, I only brought you coffee." He held up his hands in resignation and forgiveness. "Oh my god, tell me you didn't touch me?" she asked with self-consciousness. "Please tell me you didn't try anything?" Harry was stunned, watching her panic and he wondered why she would react to him in that way. Her eyes noticed his hardness inside of his shorts and that sight had only filled her with more dread. "Why are you hard? You tried to touch me didn't you?" "Look, there was no way I would do that. I brought you some coffee, hoping to surprise you. That was all I intended to do." She feared the fact that he would touch her and take advantage, that was not what she wanted. Her past experiences made it more fearful, to be touched by a man whilst being so vulnerable. Gradually, she came to terms with her nakedness in front of him, his hardness had lapsed which signalled to her that he was no longer a threat, sexually. She pulled the duvet over her and began to drink the coffee, thanking him for his gesture, and now trusted politeness. Once again he sat beside her, calmly explaining his intentions with more clarity. "You're a bit of a dark horse," he told her. "You are like a safe that is hard to crack. I wish you would tell me more about you, so I can understand you better." He was sincere. "You can trust me you know." "No. The less you know about me the better I feel. You forget why I live here far from home. I'm only following orders from the cops. Besides, you also have many spiders lurking in your corners too. I only want to help you, as long as you tell me I'm safe now and then." "So, we can't get closer than we are? Maybe a little fun now and then?" "No chance. I don't even fancy you that much." "Oh thanks a lot. Now I feel much better myself." His confidence to lay every single female he made contact with was suddenly dented. He had never failed until he had met her. Yet, still there was one woman that did impress him so far, and that was Helen. "Anyhow, fro what I've seen of you so far, you are quite impressive, physically that is," she began to explained to him with a churlish grin. "You have a nice cock. Well, from what I've seen of it in your shorts." "I take it then you like cock?" "Well... the look of them anyway." Now Harry was curious about her even more. Saskia had never felt the pleasure of a man inside of her. It was still a teenage virgin desire to want to. The times she had searched the internet to find pornography, which opened up her mind and curiosity has to what they looked like and what could be done with them. She found the male erect phallus erotic, the variant shapes and sizes and more intriguing to her was the sight of seeing it come. She had only briefly felt one, a daring act of playing with a boy friend so long ago. "Trust me it's quite nice. My cock has pleased lots of girls in the past. I regard it has my best friend and it could be your friend too," he explained. "Let me show you what it's like. Nothing intended." Saskia felt the dirty talk making her excited. Maybe a look at it would not be so bad afterall, she thought. She shyly nodded her reply, holding onto her mug tightly. Harry took out his half erect penis and stroked it gently. She liked the size of it; it's perfect form and even more, how he manipulated it with his fingers. She had the desire to want to feel it, it was visible this time and not just a brief feel in the dark. It became harder until it stood upright by itself. "You can touch it. Trust me it, it won't bite." Slowly she reached for it and felt it's smooth head with her fingertips, the whole act of feeling it made her even more excited. It was hard and proud as she detected the slight pulsing of blood in its veins, and even more the way Harry reacted to her touching. She felt powerful, as if she had that certain control seen clearly in the pornography she had watched and enjoyed. She felt herself becoming moist, the way she did whilst masturbating, stimulating her clitoris that gave her a satisfying orgasms, one after another until she could take no more of the pleasure. Suddenly there was a knock on the front door. Harry ran to answer it, taking every precaution to check who it was. He peered through the spy hole and noticed the last person he thought he would ever see, the burly stance of Gerry Hoffman. He had also intruded on a moment that was working in favour of Harry's deepest wishes and he opened the door with anger. "What the fuck do you want?" "Calm down lad," Hoffman smiled, pushing his way in gently. "I thought I'd pay you a visit. Something told me you need my help, and don't deny it, I don't like people being defensive beyond need. You are in trouble, and I am just the person you want." "Look mate, I don't even know you, let alone need your help. This is my girl friends flat and I think you should leave." This made Hoffman more determined. He closed the door behind him and made his way into the lounge. Harry wanted to force him out, but then, Hoffman was much bigger in size and weight than he was. Such a thought would be a bad idea. "Well, make us a brew. Tea would be nice." Helen... Ch. 09 Hoffman's visit to Saskia's flat was an eye-opener for both her and Harry. They discovered what seemed a fair gentle man with a very mysterious business. Harry still could not place him when he was a teenager, even though those days were as clear as day in his mind. The stranger invited them both to his penthouse apartment in town. They were surprised to see where Hoffman lived. It was the most expensive block of apartments in town. Only the rich could afford such accommodation. "You live here?" Harry asked, looking up at the tower block from the court. "I can't believe you live here. This is just amazing." Hoffman smiled in reply as he led them into the main foyer and the escalator. And as the lift slowly made it's way to the twelfth floor, Hoffman took the opportunity to scan his eyes over Saskia. He liked what he saw and realised that he had never had the pleasure of such a young woman in ages. Harry was too busy watching the numbers flash on the board. "How many floors does this place have?" he asked. "Eighteen. I'm on the twelfth." Hoffman replied just as the lift stopped and the doors opened onto a corridor. There were four apartments on each floor and he led them to his, sliding his key card through the reader and letting them in. The apartment was spacious, a huge window opening up the afternoon autumn sunshine into the lounge. Everything was glass, stainless steel and soft cushioned furniture. A modern executives paradise. "Make yourself at home. Then I can talk business with you both." Harry and Saskia sat together on the lush expensive settee. They could not believe that the place belonged to a man like Hoffman. He did not even look that affluent, just simply dressed and smelling of cheap aftershave. "How did you get this place?" Harry asked. Hoffman grinned in reply offering them both a cigarette. Saskia took one and shared the light from Hoffman's lighter as they both lit up. "Lets just say, I inherited this place. Not family, but old acquaintances. Well, one of them anyhow. Such an amazing man who is no longer with us." Hoffman sat in an easy leather chair and looked at them both. "I'm glad you like it. It's far too big for me. I like something simpler. Would you like to live here?" "What? Me? Here?" Harry was taken aback by the offer. "Are you taking the piss?" "No. Bring your young lady friend with you. Settle down, get married, etcetera etcetera." "You are taking the piss mate." "Mister Hoffman, what is it you do?" Saskia asked. He looked back at her with a grin. Harry was still trying to let the offer sink home in his mind, still thinking it had to be a joke that was not exactly very funny. He hated people being patronising towards him and making jokes on his personal expense. "My business my dear is life. Just as simple as that." Hoffman gave his reply still looking at her with desire to have her, take her as his, if ever that was possible. He could almost taste and smell her nubile essence from where he was sat. Pure imagination based upon past experiences. "What exactly do you man by "life"? Harry asked with curiosity. "Life isn't a business." "Oh yes it is. My business is very unique and very useful to many people, like yourself." "Yeah yeah, so you said, but in what way?" Hoffman looked at Saskia. "Run into the kitchen and fetch us some cold beers," he almost commanded with ease. He watched her closely as she left the lounge. "Your friend is very pretty Harry. I feel almost jealous of you." Hoffman laughed knowing that would wind up his guest. In the kitchen, Saskia opened the fridge door to take out three cold cans of lager. Then her gaze met with something she never expected. In a glass jar there were lots of eyeballs crammed together pickled in some kind of fluid. When the initial shock had passed she realised that the contents were almost human, each one having their own individual colour. She shivered and closed the fridge door quickly. "So, explain this business of yours more clearly?" Harry asked. Saskia handed out the cans of beer, then retained her place beside him as Hoffman pondered some kind of answer that would seem more understanding to his guests. "Let's say I... settle scores for people. I once helped your stepfather many years ago. It was a great pleasure that I won't forget. And now I think I can help you the same way. These people who are making your life a misery. The ones that smashed your face for instance?" "Oh wait! Don't mess with those guys. They are crazy." "Nobody is crazy. Just stupid." Hoffman replied with his grin. "I can deal with them. Let's say as a favour in your case. You can have a freebie as I'm quite well off at the moment and I need some fun." His eyes continued to gaze on Saskia as he spoke. "Look mate... no my girl ok?" Harry was quick to notice. "And these people I'm having bother with are not the kind to play any games. They are after my guts because they think I stole from them." "And did you?" "Course not. I don't need their cash. I have means of making my own." "Wouldn't you like to see the back of these people? All of them? For good?" Harry realised what Hoffman was hinting. "Wait a minute. You are not suggesting what I think are you? For fucksake this is not happening. You are crazy mate. I don't think I want to know anymore." "Ok, lets just say, I've been one hundred percent successful so far. Now that is quality." "I don't care. You're taking the piss." "I assure you I'm not. That is my business and I'm very good at it. I work alone in my own time and collect the fees, no questions asked. Quite lucrative actually." "A contract killer?" Harry asked in amazement. "They only exist in the movies or the mafia." "Well, let's just say you have met a real one and I'm on your side." Saskia nudged Harry and whispered in his ear; "He has eyeballs in his fridge" Hoffman could hear the whispering and smiled. She looked back at him realising it. Was it a mistake? Harry needed to know what she had seen. What would or could happen next? "Don't worry. Yes I have human eyeballs in my fridge. They are a delicacy." "Fuck me!" Harry said, shouting out his words. "You're a fucking Hannibal The Cannibal. Tell me this is just a sick joke?" Saskia held tighter to his arm, shocked at what was being discussed, yet she saw them in the fridge for herself. Hoffman sat back into his chair and sipped on his can of beer, lighting a cigarette, his injured hand bleeding through the bandage. "They are my victims eyes, yes. And no, I don't eat them. I collect them for a friend. Her birds of prey have a liking for them. The rest of the victims' bodies you may ask? Simple, I burn them. No trace, just a pile of ashes. I have another friend who deals with that side of things." "You're bleeding." Saskia pointed out. Hoffman looked at it and smiled, taking no notice of it. To him, the injury was superficial, a deep cut left by his recent victim only a few days ago. "I'm retiring." Hoffman announced. "I've had a enough of all this killing. It's time I got away somewhere nice to enjoy my life. Of course, I can't tell anyone where I'm going. So, I need to leave you this apartment, all yours, in exchange for silence and the thrill of my final kill." "Your business is taking life," Saskia said, staring at Hoffman, still feared of what such a gruesome man like him could do to just about anybody, without feeling any regrets. "How do you get away with it?" "Simple. I'm good at what I do dear. I have realised that killing essential and influential members of the O'Grady's can do two people a favour. Those two people are you Harry, and your stepfather. You have both suffered badly from their threats and their violence." Hoffman could see Harry thinking deeply, considering his proposal. "Don't think too much Harry, the answer should be yes." "Ok, how will you do it?" Harry asked. "You give to me a list of names and I will deal with it. No need to know how or where I do it. I can plan that out quite easily, remember, it's what I do. And instead of you and your stepfather paying me, all I ask for is your silence, and accept this gift of the apartment." "Is this place kosher? I mean will it be mine?" "All paid for, ready to hand over the deeds to you. Give the list and move in when you like." "No, wait, that's far to fucking easy. There has to be a catch." "No catch. Actually I do owe you a favour. It's best not to go into those details." "What favour? Tell me." Hoffman thought about his answer, knowing that he needed the list from Harry by mentioning it, and hoping that Harry would want to know and accept. Nothing fazed him, he could tell him anything to get that list of names. He leaned forward from his chair and looked Harry in the eyes: "A long time ago I did something wrong. It was an unfortunate accident on my behalf. To make it plain and simple, I killed someone who was close to you, but you were too young to realise it. Infact, I don't think you even missed them to be honest..." "Who?" Harry asked, "I don't even know what you are talking about." "You once had an older brother. He died at my hands. He was unfortunately a hostage of a gang and I didn't know they had captured him. It was a kill I did without realising he was there. He perished with your stepfather's enemies who I eliminated. A factory blaze, unrecognisable bodies associated later with the owners. They were corrupt and your stepfather owed them a lot of money. At the time I took your fathers money and hid, job complete. Only a few months later one of the bodies were still unknown and your brother was missing. Two and two made four." Harry sat absorbing the facts. It was true; he never did know an older sibling, his stepfather and mother kept everything quiet. The lad was still a statistical missing person to that very day. And Hoffman was right; it was something he did not need to know. He was growing angry inside at the thought, but it was no use taking it any further. There was a debt to be paid and Hoffman's honesty outshined anything else, despite him being a killer. Saskia listened and held Harry close to her. All of this was like a bad dream. She was in the middle of it all, implicated in a conspiracy to wipe out members of a family she did not even know. It seemed that she had to keep silent or wake up and realise all of this was a crazy dream. "Ok, I'll give you the list," Harry replied. "If this is going to get them off my back, then yes, I want it done. Besides, I like this apartment." Hoffman handed him a pen and writing pad and Harry wrote down the names of at least eight people and gave it to him. The list contained those members of the O'Grady family that hurt him and gave him grief. The list also included Mick The Mong, the Chinese henchman that caused his painful injuries. "The dentist bill is going to massive. It would be a pleasure to see him out of the way." In exchange for the list Hoffman handed Harry an envelope containing the essential documents of ownership of the plush apartment and set of keys. "Thank you. It's all your. Now I can go. You will never see or hear of me again. Saskia grabbed the keys and envelope. "Thanks, this could be a new life for me. It's just a shame that Harry had to pay for it by giving you that list." She explained. She snuggled into her newly acquired friend and now what seemed to have developed into a lover. Or was it just a show for Hoffman's' convenience? It did not matter tio him. He took one last look around the lounge and picked up a small briefcase waiting at the door. "Well, I wish you both happiness, and don't worry, everything is taken care of. And by the way, there is a suitcase in the bedroom waiting for you. A bonus. Enjoy it." With that he smiled and left. Leaving the two amazed new owners baffled. "A bonus?" Saskia asked. "What does he mean by bonus?" "How the fuck should I know? But we'll find out." "It might be a bomb or something, or even a corpse of one of his latest victims..." "No. Hoffman wouldn't do that. Let's go and see." The bedroom was luxurious. A round king sized bed, not even slept in, and there was the suitcase upon it waiting to be opened. Harry did not hesitate for one minute. He lifted the lid and inside were piles of money, bundled together in what appeared to be neatly counted lots. There were UK and US denominations. Harry had no idea how much until he could count it. Saskia gazed a the so called bonus. "Are we rich?" she asked. "We?" Harry questioned. "Er... at the moment it's all mine. And what's with all the lovey dovey clinging back there? We have not even made love. So you are just a mate that walked into my life so far." Saskia folded her arms and stared at him. "Oh I see. You like money instead of sex I take it? And that makes me slut I suppose?" "Not really. There is still time. You still owe me a blow job." Helen... Ch. 10 Helen began to stroke Timmy on his head as he sat on his perch, his claw fixed firmly to it just in case he did decide to make a flying dash. She became used to him, not as aggressive as Imelda who somehow seemed to take a noisy dislike to Helen, fluttering in her cage nearby. David Lord returned to the aviary with a bowl of what looked like mashed up flesh. "It's their favourite" he said with a smile. "Eyes...animal eyes. They love them." Helen felt sick at the sight of their meal. David placed the mashed pulp into each of the falcons feeding dishes, and Helen watched as both birds feasted hungrily on their food. "So is Jayne out of the country for long?" Helen asked. "Just over Christmas. She'll be home a week after New Year. She often visits her friends in the States. I believe it is quite nice where she is, Wisconsin somewhere. That is if you like that kind of festive thing." "I should imagine it's quite nice," she replied, her eyes fixed on the way the falcons devoured their dinner. Or maybe their festive treat? David was more interested in her, the way she dressed so warm in the faun jacket and matching trousers, insulated from the seasons cold winds. There had been no snow yet, but then in the UK, snow now tended to be a rarity it seemed. Jayne was away with her so called "sisters", a non-relative but very sexual group of friends. The whole thing was a sapphic orgy. But then, Helen herself became curious as to what kind of vacation it did involve. "Never mind. Atleast you and I have Christmas together here at the manor." David said. Helen turned her head to smile at him. "Jack obviously has his family commitments in France." "Yes, it's a thing he has. I'm just a little pissed that he never invited me." "No need. Your endearing professor is here for you." On the way back from the aviary, Helen and David walked along the footpath covered in the autumns rotting leaves. They held hands as they exchanged conversations about the way that Jayne had kept her estate in good condition with its gardens and of course the aviary and the open field were her prized falcons do their exercises obediently. It seemed that obedience was important to both Jayne and David, although they had never made love together, or so it was to be believed, their idea of sexual obedience was something new to Helen. "It's fun. You must admit my dear?" David said in his jovial comment on the very idea. Helen was still unsure. Of course it was exciting being taken. Role-playing rape was interesting. She never expected it to be in his study. He promised to do it and not in a way she had expected. "I want you to be honest with me for a moment," David stood still and looked into her eyes, the warm pink neck scarf clashing with her blushing cheeks from the cold. It was getting dark. "What do you think of my Domination?" Helen brushed her hair to one side and looked towards the ground. "I think it's cool actually." She grinned and looked back at him. "Does that make me kinky?" "I don't think there is anything wrong with being kinky, do you? I think it's a sexual lifestyle." "And Jayne? She fancies me doesn't she?" Helen smiled; her mind drifting towards that fem to fem love making that was always hinted. "I'm not very sure about it." "Can I tell you something? And you promise not to mention it to Jack?" "Of course. Jack and I are not supposed to keep secrets from each other, but who cares anyway, because we do." Helen laughed and noticed that David was serious as he stood looking back at her. "What's wrong? What is this secret anyway?" "Well, I'm not sure of how you are going to take this..." "Tell me David." Helen hated secrets being revealed to her that seemed to come with a warning of content first. "Jack and I, well we didn't exactly have anal sex..." "Wait! Stop right there!" That initial admission was enough on its own to shock her. "Please don't tell me that you and Jack had sex? Please... please don't." "We did." David replied. His hands open expecting her acceptance of the matter. But Helen rejected him and turned away from her trusted professor. The thought of anything like that upset her deeply as tears began to well in her eyes. She did not want to know the details. "We sucked each other off, nothing else." David revealed. "And ok, we even kissed each other. He likes me and I like him." Without turning to look at him, Helen annoyingly waved her hand. "So you and Jayne are just two kinky gay people who live together now and then?" Then she turned to him in anguish. "You actually sucked off my partner? A gay relationship?" "Look, Jack and I are not exactly..." Helen interrupted him by turning around and running back to the manor alone. Inside it was warm and welcoming with the log fire crackling flames in the grate, throwing off that glorious calming orange yellow heat. It was something she had rarely experienced in life. This was old world effect, something she had only seen in a few historical based movies and TV dramas. She sat close to the grate, hypnotised by the dancing flames. The thought of Jack being gay was unbelievable, even though he jested at the fact now and then which made her laugh. She pulled her knees up to her chin and huddled in the warmth as David came in. "Look, I'm sorry dear if that upset you." He begged an apology. "No, it's ok. I'm passed the shock now. The cold outside didn't help much." "Yes, I think it's going to either rain or snow tonight. We are in the best place I think." "I think we should talk actually David. Get it all out in the open." "Yes of course. Some mulled wine I think would help along." That evening Helen sat by the fire drinking her mulled wine offered by David as the soft classical music played in the background. David had made himself comfortable in his favourite armchair remaining quiet. Helen was quiet too. Her thoughts on what had happened between Jack and David. What seemed to be a joke was now confirmed as something that really did happen. She was not a homophobic of any kind. In her mind it was something she could accept between two strangers, but not Jack. He was the man she really did admire and love and she was missing him so much. "I'm sorry the evening turned out so bad." David said, trying to break the silence. "I really thought you would understand." Helen heard him. She thought it best not to reply so soon. "I thought we could carry on as we planned." He continued, watching the time, just minutes away from midnight and Christmas Day. Helen thought for a while about their plan. Of course, the plan. No matter how much she hated what had happened between Jack and David, which would not stop the "special" plan. All day she had thought about it. It was supposed to be a spiritual thing. Far from the festive spiritual. More of a dark spiritual thing. A defiance of all that was normal. It was another of his promises, a special treat like an unopened present she was about to open and experience. The clock chimed twelve times. On the last chime they both looked at the old eighteenth century time piece and then at each other. "Merry Christmas." Helen smiled and David replied likewise. "So, it's time?" She stood up and faced him. "I think we should do it." "Only if you want to." David replied. "Oh I do. I've been waiting for this." "Besides, I've never seen the cellar in this house before. Jayne's private chamber." "We share it. But only on those special occasions. This time it's your turn and I think you will enjoy every moment of it." They both made their way down the old stone spiral staircase into the cellar. It was cold, very cold. Once there Helen noticed the wine racks, filled with her vintage collections. Then she saw the rest of the place. A wooden table with wrist and ankle cuff locks in stainless steel. And on the far wall were the cuffs and chains. It reminded her of the torture chamber that David had described to her weeks ago when the plan was hatched. "For this I think the table is the best choice." David said. Helen smiled excitedly and began to strip herself naked as he watched. "Ah, that's good my dear. A full growth of pubic hair. That makes it all the more interesting." Helen crossed her arms over her breasts, shielding herself from the bitter cold. "I just wish it wasn't so cold." She began to shiver and goose bumps formed on every exposed area of her naked flesh. "Why does it have to be this way?" She could feel her nipples hardening against the skin of her arms. "It's part of the experience. I promise you will enjoy every moment. This is a very special bondage." She was not too sure about it now that the biting cold had struck her so fiercely. Yet she trusted her Master. It was not love, but his power of control over her. She could not help being intrigued by his nature. He was such a gentle person beyond this kinkiness and his shyness hid a secret Dominant Master. He stood behind her, prompting her to unfold her arms as he slipped the red elasticised blind fold over her head. Now there was both bitter cold and darkness. David helped her onto the wooden table and began to lock all four cuffs on wrists and ankles. The cold somehow was getting less severe as the process began. "I have never seen your nipples so hard before," he told her, just as the last ankle cuff locked into place. His eyes concentrated upon her spread open thighs. "I promise there will be no pain involved. This is about giving you pleasure." Helen resigned to her position, under his control. There was no escape from the bondage of the table. He placed two fingers onto her pubic mound, feeling the coarseness of her hair. "You are so beautiful. I can't believe that we are doing this. That is my pleasure in all of this." His fingers found their way to her moist lips and he began to spread them apart. The pink flesh of her sex revealed and most noticeable of all, the hardness of her nub protruding from the hood of her clitoris, partly by the cold and excitement of what was about to happen. "Just relax." He told her. She could feel something cold clamping her sex wider, opening her up. Then the feel of something hard and cold enter her. It was an implement of some kind, not plastic, but either glass or metal. She wanted to see but obeyed his orders to keep relaxing. Then she felt him slowly fucking her with the object, his finger gently playing upon her sensitive clitoris. She shuddered as the tingling and cold sensations filled every sensorium of her body. There was no doubt in her mind he was attempting to give her pleasure. Suddenly his fingers stopped teasing her clitoris and she could sense him coming closer to her upper body. He was stood beside her, giving her reassurance that everything was fine. Then she felt her nipple being clamped and a cold chain connecting the other clamp to her other. There was the initial sensation of pain, but it soon subsided into pleasurable tingles, adding to what already pleased her and excited her. She gave out a low moan as David swept his fingers over her navel and further, feeling the softness of her skin. David remained silent. His fingering motion on her clitoris continued as the hard object was thrust in and out of her. She began to feel the tingles increase in intensity as she moaned out with pleasure. Again, David moved his fingers rapidly across her sensitive clitoris. Now those tingles grew more and more intense as she began to climax. The wetness of her sex coating the implement with a thin layer of love juice, allowing it to thrust into her more smoothly. The orgasm was amazingly strong and uncontrollable. Her body began to shudder and shake as she was taken higher and higher into the extremes of almost unbearable pleasure. She released her screams of ecstasy, but David continued, fingering her faster and faster, thrusting the object deeper and deeper. She begged him to stop. David continued. Helens body arched, fighting against the tightness of the cuffs. There was no way she could fight it. She had never felt such an exciting yet almost unbearable orgasm which took her to new form of spiritual level, inexperienced before until that moment, and David was determined to take her to the limit. An orgasm she had no control over no matter how much she may have wanted. This was real. The limit had been reached. Her screams and quaking body signified it had to end soon before she blacked out or entered a fitting state that would take her beyond the spiritual experience. Was there such a thing? He pulled out the implement carefully, slowing down his finger strokes against her swollen clitoris. No sooner had the implement been removed, Helen released a long and almost unceasing stream of liquid love across the cellar, splattering the cold walls with its bodily warmth. She was still in the state of orgasm even though David had released all contact. Slowly she resumed a calming state, breathing heavily and moaning with pleasure. The clamping and coldness of the air was no longer felt. She had certainly been taken to her ultimate limit of sexual ecstasy as he had promised she would. A certain kind of heat embraced every part of her body as if the cold air around her was insignificant. A warmth from within perhaps? Or was it really a spiritual thing she had experienced? Suddenly she felt the tepid splashes of David's ejaculate as he came over her breasts. The gift had now been completed and she smiled with relief mixed with an amazing feeling of total calm and relaxation. In the apartment, Christmas was to say the least boring. Both Harry and Saskia lay naked on the bed gazing up at the ceiling. Saskia's thoughts were on the Christmases she had spent as a child, opening presents she believed the red and white bearded gift bearer had left under the tinsel covered tree. Harry sucked on his half smoked spliff and inhaled slowly. The smoke adding to other drags beforehand that sent him slowly into a world of his own imaginations. To him, it killed the boredom of a festive day. All their money spent weeks ago on weed, beer, wines and spirits, all exhumed before the big day itself. And they were still in hiding of sorts. At least, Saskia was no longer a virgin. She had finally given up her resistance to stay untouched by a man. In all it was her fairytale idea that one day she would meet the right man and get married before having sex. With Harry around, that was impossible. "So, what do we do now?" Saskia asked. "It is Christmas Day you know." "Is it?" Harry gave his questioning reply. He did not really care. Christmas to him was now a non entity. The day was just another day like all the rest. "We could watch TV, but I hate all those fucking repeats." He handed her the spliff, but she refused. "you need to chill out babe." "How many times do you have to call me your babe!" She sat up and looked around the room for something to wear. "You never listen do you?" The short pink satin nightdress caught her attention and she dashed across the room putting it on. "I've really had enough of this Harry. I thought living here with you would at least be fun." "You know what babe? I feel the same about you." He sat up, dumped out his rolled up cigarette in the nearest ash tray and stared at her. "At first I thought you were the right girl for me." Saskia looked back at him, waiting for him to continue. "And, after all these weeks, you have just been as slutty as the rest of them." "You bastard." She said in almost a whisper. Then she walked calmly into the lounge, untidy with empty bottles and cans mixed with kebab wrappings and curry cartons scattered everywhere. She picked up a bottle of spirits. It was empty as she tried to drink the last remains. She threw the empty bottle across the room, repeating the words "bastard" and then moved on into the kitchen. There were soiled bone china plates and cups stacked waiting to go into the dishwasher. The apartment looked as if a big party had been held there. There was, with only two hosts. They had locked themselves in the apartment for safety, having fast food delivered every day. The money that was left for them was spent on providing the food and the US dollars were all that remained, unspendable unless exchanged at a bank. Harry dragged himself out of bed and for the first time in weeks he put on the only clothes he had. Those he arrived in weeks before. He realised by speaking his mind that he had upset Saskia too many times and he had to leave if only for a walk around town. It was Christmas Day and the risk had to be minimal. Before leaving he stood at the door of the kitchen. Saskia was bent forward, loading up the dishwasher and he noticed her naked thighs and buttocks which almost made him think twice about leaving. She turned to him and picked up a jar from the table, thrusting it into his hands. "Get rid of those things if you're going out." It was the jar of human eyeballs left by Hoffman, still preserved in the liquid within. Harry examined them closely as he gazed into the jar. "If you could change your eyes for any of these, which colour would you go for?" he asked. Saskia raised her head and whispered something to herself. He realised he was stretching her patience and decided to leave with the jar to dispose of it. The air was cold and fresh as Harry got onto the street. He was surprised with the amount of traffic that went about. Not the usual everyday busy traffic, but more than he expected for a vacation day. He took one last look at the jar and dumped it into a trash container, then moved on to find a store that might at least be open. The Asian communities often owned stores that remained open during Christian holidays and he found one, purchasing a pack of cigarettes with the change in his pocket, to feed his increased smoking habit. Drugs were out of the question and so were rolled spliffs which he really wanted. He turned down a few empty streets onto a main street leading to a local square where carol singers had gathered. He listened for awhile until an old lady rattled her collection box at him, collecting for some charity. He smiled and moved on. Harry never gave nor supported charities, only his own. He met a few homeless tramps he knew and talked himself into sharing a bottle of spirits with them. One mouthful of the concoction was enough as he took a swig. "How the fuck can you drink that stuff?" He asked. The tramp laughed and once again he moved on. Turning down yet another side street, Harry lit his second cigarette when he heard a distinct click and something hard against the back of his head. "Don't move." He recognised the rough foreign voice of Mick the Mong. A man who rarely spoke, thought to be non converse with the English language or simply dumb. Harry instantly realised how stupid it was to leave the apartment and that Hoffman had not yet gotten around to his task. Helen... Ch. 11 It was not too long before Harry found himself locked up in Martin O'Grady's basement cellar for the second time. And big Mick and a hand gun was not the right person to argue with, as he sat watching him with a constant evil and cold stare. "Mind if I have a piss?" Harry asked. Mick pointed to the stainless steel bucket in the corner of the freezing cold room. "Oh very nice. I see that everything I need has been taken care of. So, when do I get the pleasure of Martin's visit?" Mick remained silent and Harry made the best of the empty bucket. It was so cold; Harry thought it might freeze as he peed. "I suppose he's busy with family, being Christmas Day and all that? And I can guess a Chinese guy such as you don't mind working during the festive season?" Again Mick remained silent. For the first time when Harry was picked up from the street hours ago, he realised that if Mick wanted to talk, he could. "I hope you're not going to beat the hell out of my teeth again. I'm just about recovering from the last instalment." Harry held his bottom jaw as he spoke. "Big hitter, hard fist, much damage. Oh for fucksake Mick, why the silence. I know you can talk." "I chose not to." Came back the reply. "So sit down and be quiet before I hit you again harder." His accent was pure local English. Although it did not surprise Harry. There were plenty like Mick in China town. "Look," Harry began to plead, "I didn't steal Martin's money. He's got it all wrong. I've got a steady girl now and we are happy together. I don't need this shit. You can understand that, can't you?" Mick continued his silent stare, unimpressed. And Harry realised he was not getting or going anywhere. "So, what's planned for me? I can't shit money I didn't take." He sat down and took a long chug of the beer from the bottle provided for his refreshments. "A mince pie would be nice. I'm starving." "Good." Mick replied. "Me too. Boss never gave me any food either. You have a beer." "Look, you and I could sneak out and find a place to eat. The boss wouldn't mind. You can bring me back later." "No. The boss is on his way and he's angry." "Well that's his problem. He could have picked a better day." Few minutes later the basement door opened and down the steps Martin entered in his festive white roll neck jumper and slacks. He looked as if he had just finished Christmas dinner with his family. He seemed his usual self, a smile and obviously an uncertain mood. Harry jumped to his feet to face his host. "Ay Harry, how's your Christmas day going?" Martin asked pleasantly. "Well it was until Mick here abducted me. All I wanted was a pack of ciggies. And if you're going to ask about the dosh I was supposed to have purloined, I don't have it and never did. I'm the wrong guy, ok?" "Don't worry Harry me lad. I know. And I also know who stole it. Sorry about the beating you got off Mick here. I would like to compensate for damages if I can?" Martin was too pleasant for the hard man he was, and still alive. Harry wondered when Hoffman was going to do the do. "I found out who it was. Someone you know I believe." Martin continued. "A man called Hoffman?" Harry tried hard not to look surprised and cast his mind back to the suitcase of money half spent. "I'm not sure. The name doesn't register with me." "Come come me lad. You know this man well. He just cut my nephews' throat a few days ago in front of his family. He told his distressed wife who he was and who arranged it." Martin pointed Harry's chest hard with his finger. "He left a note too. Admitting he stole the money." "Bastard," Harry exclaimed in a quiet voice. One to look sympathetic and another to express being annoyed at the dirty trick Hoffman pulled, landing poor Harry now firmly in the mess. Martin took the letter from his pocket and handed it to Harry. "Read the rest. I think you'll find it interesting lad." Martin said, with a grin from ear to ear. Obviously Harry barely made out a few words. "He explains that he left an apartment and my money, waiting to collect the keys from you. So, may I?" Martin held out his hand. "Please?" Harry had to think fast...very fast. Handing over the keys to the apartment would put Saskia at certain risk, but the sound of Mick's knuckles cracking was encouragement enough. He dropped the keys into Martin's expecting hand. "Good lad. I'm keeping you here a little longer in the company of your best friend Mick. I know you two love each other so much." Martin said, turning to Mick with a grin. "I'm sending Shaun. He can check the place out. Maybe find my money" She opened her eyes and threw back the duvet. Naked, she dashed to the bathroom to tend to her ablutions and afterwards noticed the door to David's office was open. She could hear him downstairs busily preparing dinner and quietly made her way inside. There was an open note book on the desk, a kind of diary. She picked it up and began to read it. The last entries described what had happened earlier that morning. She read back, discovering snippets of more documented information and she began to realise things she never knew before. Helen sat in the armchair with a glass of mulled wine whilst David continued to prepare their Christmas dinner of turkey and everything that went with it. The manor was warm enough for her to sit in panties and an open white lace shirt. Cosy. She felt at total ease with what she had experienced. She even began to enjoy David's smooth jazz music which prolonged her feeling of tranquillity even after an early morning sleep and something she had accidentally discovered. David entered the lounge and looked at her with admiration for her youthful beauty and then poured himself a glass of wine from the terracotta jug. "Are you warm enough my love?" he asked. Helen rested her head back and glanced at him through half open eyes and just nodded her reply with a smile. "Good. Dinner should be ready in a few hours." He raised his glass and almost in a whisper he wished her a happy Christmas for the umpteenth time that morning. "When are you planning to play with me again?" she asked. "Play? I don't call it play what we did. It's more..." He thought for a while. "I call it love." "To be honest David, I don't really love you." "Oh I know that. Jack is the man in your life and I appreciate that." David replied. "How come you seduced him?" she asked. "The act of homosexuality that I never expected between you and him?" "Best not go into that my love. I know it upsets you." Helen let the query go. She concentrated on the spiritual experience and something else that was on her mind that bothered her. "How did you learn how to do what you did to me? It was amazing, I admit." "Well, it all began when I was a student many years ago. A keen interest in extreme lovemaking and BDSM. I made it my specialist subject when Marie and I got closer together," he felt comfortable with his explanation. Enthusiastic even. "We began to experiment and through that we both improved our methods over the years. I gave her that pleasure of reaching the ultimate spiritual high in orgasms and I loved to give it. Again, she had to submit to my demands. After all I was the Dom in our relationship." Helen raised a smile. Then she took a black diary from the side of her, hidden between the arm of the chair and her thigh. She threw it onto the floor and instantly David recognised it. "Where did you get that from?" he asked. "That is a very private diary." "I found it this morning on your desk. You left it out. You must have forgotten about it." "Umm... yes, I think I did." "Do you always write what you do to everyone?" Helen asked. "Always." David smiled. Helen stood up, rested her glass on the low wooden table and gazed at him. "Does it bother you?" He asked. "Well, kind of. What you did I can't deny I loved every moment it lasted? But then I read a certain page marked by a slip of paper. The bit about you and your wife?" she began to explain. There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone. David kept himself composed even though a secret had been discovered. "You actually killed her. You took her too far over the edge. It was no accident or natural heart attack. You wrote the whole thing down in every detail. She had a heart condition and she couldn't take it. What did you call it? Death in extreme pleasure?" "That diary was supposed to be private, Helen my love. My notes." "And your confessions of murder too. You said you couldn't stop no matter how far her orgasm began to increase into a wild state of sheer ecstasy and beyond the spiritual level, that she became a spirit herself. You wanted it to happen. You wanted to kill her." "No. It was an accident. Let us say an experiment gone slightly wrong. I suffered her loss. I loved her as I have explained." Helen looked at him with a grin. "It was just unfortunate. She was ill and I should have realised that." "And then you began to seduce your students?" "In your case, you enjoyed my seduction." Helen walked away and up the stone staircase to her guest room, leaving David pondering what was going to happen now his written secrets had been foolishly discovered. The diary could open up secrets he did not want to be known, especially by the authorities. It also painted a picture of him that he wanted hidden. A cruel and devious pervert rather than a man who helped people discover their sexual limits. The diary also contained notes of seduction on young women, too young to even experience sex. And Helen browsed them enough that morning to discover who and what David really was. There was now a dilemma. Helen was curious about her host and teacher. The perverted professor of psychology was beginning to open up her own thoughts about human psyche. The way people become freaks. But, was David really a freak of human nature? She needed to know more about this man and the only way was to stay as his guest and not run away. At dinner the twosome company remained silent as they ate. David was an excellent cook and she was also hungry. Not for sex anymore, but food, wine and knowledge. Helen sipped her wine and placed it upon the table beside her. She could see that David was getting more and more nervous. He expected her to leave knowing what she had discovered. Once more he became the quiet almost stuttering man she had first met in the lecture theatre. Suddenly roles had reversed. "Why do you do these things." She asked. David looked up at her from eating his meal. "What do you mean?" "The kinky stuff? The young women, men and people like me? Is it a pleasure you get from it?" "Look, I don't think we should talk about this anymore. How was dinner?" "It was scrummy yummy. I want to talk about these things...professor." She sent him a long smile, gazing across the table at him as she leaned her head on the palm of her hand, playing with the fork on her empty dinner plate, scraping it annoyingly. "I have an excellent Christmas pudding. Would you like some? And please stop playing with your fork on the plate, it annoys me." "Then talk." David threw his napkin onto the table. "Look, if you are going to run to the authorities and report me it's not going to work. I threw the diary onto the fire. It's gone, destroyed forever. And why have you started to call me professor all of a sudden?" "Oh I'm not going to report you to anyone. I'm curious about you. You have become my subject. I intend to study you in many ways. Understand how you think." She explained. David looked at her as if she was being impudent. And she was. Despite the friendship they had developed, she was now determined to manipulate him to her favour. That afternoon Shaun O'Grady made his way to the apartment. He drove through the town in his car. The streets and roads quiet and lit only by the street lights. Beside him was a street map which he gazed at now and then whilst tapping the faulty sat nav and cursing it. He was Martin O'Grady's eldest son, taking after his mothers' complexion with red curly hair. A true Irish Celt in every way. Eventually he found the apartment and he checked the small calibre gun in the back of his belt, hidden but ready to use if need be. The elevator doors opened and he noticed the apartment number. With keys ready, hoping that the woman inside he was expecting had not secured it within, he made for the door. There was a choice. The use of a metal lock key or an electronic slash card. Again, he was in hope that either would work. Turning the lock he pushed open the door slowly and noticed Saskia immediately. She was tied up; knees close to her chin and wrists tied firmly, a black nylon stocking in her mouth used as a gag. She made warning noise as her eyes stared at with desperation at Shaun. "Well what do we have here then? Your boyfriend certainly is a kinky devil that he is." He walked towards her, but her warning muffled voice became more desperate. "I'm not going to hurt you." He said, holding out his hand. "Now I'm not that kind of person you know." The door closed behind him. Shaun recognised a click and he knew right away that someone was behind him with a weapon. He tried to slowly reach for his gun. "Don't even think about it Shaun. If you move I'll kill you," warned the voice. "Don't even turn around." Saskia panicked, trying hard to scream out, knowing what was about to happen. Shaun raised his hands in resignation. "I don't know who you are, but I hope you know who I am. If anything happens to me you're in serious trouble that you are. So, stop this nonsense right away." Shaun said. "Put that fucking gun away and be a sensible chap now." "You have no chance Shaun. You're a dead man. The first of many it seems." The reply came from Hoffman who moved in closer. Shaun recognised the voice from a while back and began to laugh. To be honest, if Hoffman was going to kill him and he would not be the first. Only a few weeks ago Hoffman had killed Shaun's cousin in a knife brawl. It seemed the so called contract was more than a contract now. "Your boss, your father stole my money. Not the other way around." Saskia was so distraught she urinated herself in sheer panic, bursting into tears and closing her eyes tight. There was a muffled bang and she felt Shaun's warm blood hit her with clumps of brain matter. Hoffman decided to pull the trigger of his silenced gun and then his victims body fell at her feet. There was no stopping her stifled cries. Hoffman lowered his gun and looked around. "It's a good job the neighbours are out spending Christmas with their relations." He told her. "I hope you and Harry enjoyed your last day together this morning. Pity if you didn't. Still this might be the right time for you and the little sneaky bastard to part company. Another one of life's scum." He raised his gun again and cocked it. Saskia trembled uncontrollably knowing now it was her end. "Sorry to have to do this. You're such a cute thing, but you've seen too much. I have a job to do. And I'm surprised you didn't join Harry this morning. These complicated things happen and have to be dealt with." Hoffman explained, but little of his final words did not penetrate her ears. Her desperate cries and distress missed most of it. "I enjoyed the rape you provided," he continued. "You have a nice body and, well I was kind of desperate to fuck you. All I can say is thank you." Without mercy he squeezed the trigger and let out two shots. Saskia's life ended quickly as one bullet hit her directly in the forehead, the second one directly in the throat. Hoffman was surely a cold blooded murderer, taking out even the innocent ones to cover up his moves without compassion. He looked at both victims and gave out a sigh. Both for relief and obvious sadness for a deed need doing. He hated killing women, especially those innocent ones. His mobile phone bleeped unexpectedly. "Hello?" The recognisable voice of the professor hit his hear. "I need your help Hoffman." David asked his favour. "I have someone who needs taking care of. A young woman. I'll pay your rate." Hoffman sighed again. His list was growing larger including the innocent extras. "Well, can you oblige?" "Who is it now? Did someone upset you again David?" He stepped back away from the trail of blood moving towards his feet. "Sixty grand on this one. I'm asking a top rate because I'm busy dealing with others," he replied. "Name and location?" There was no doubts that Hoffman was getting busy. Helen... Ch. 12 Suddenly, Harry was hoisted bodily by Mick from the O'Grady's basement cellar and threw out onto the street. It was cold and he had no idea why he was released so urgently as the house door was slung shut. He picked himself up and worked out that it was either late or morning. Hard to tell during those winter nights. His watch had been taken and he was penniless. The only way to get back to the apartment and Saskia was to walk across town in the freezing clear night. His thoughts were on Saskia and what Shaun would have done to her. He had hoped that she had carried out her plans to visit relatives or something. It took him hours to reach the block of apartments. One thing he had hidden on him was the slash card to get in. The cold was biting into his skin, even below his clothing and it was not doing his mouth injury to good either. Although an atheist, he thanked God that Mick had not hit him again. He reached the apartment door and opened it. Shock or surprise, it did not matter, the place was totally empty. No furnishings, carpets and every room stripped to its bare emptiness. "Saskia?" he shouted repeatedly as he searched each room. She had gone. The smell of cleaning fluids lingered in the cold air. "What the fuck happened here?" he asked himself. He searched his jacket for his mobile phone, but even that had been taken off him by the mad Chinese Mick. He searched for notes or a letter and there was none to be found. He realised there and then Hoffman's free offer was definitely not going the way he thought it would. Saskia had given up her home weeks previously, so there was no point in searching for her there. Thankfully he knew a friend somewhere that he could go to and left the apartment in disarray. Two weeks passed by and Harry had put past events into the back of his mind regarding the O'Grady's, Hoffman and Saskia. Although he worried about Saskia and where she had gone so mysteriously, even though things grew stale between them. He found somewhere to live. His old pal was atleast accommodating him with shelter and he was back on the retail markets, earning honest money again, selling old movies and games to any willing customer. It was snowing at last. The days following the Christmas vacation where bitterly cold and atleast snow tended to warm things up a little. He was having his usual breakfast in the cafe he visited. A good old English breakfast, with all the trimmings and a mug of hot tea. There was a tap on the window which drew his attention. When he looked there was Helen, wrapped up warm against the snow falling around outside. She gave him a smile and entered the cafe. She ordered a coffee and sat opposite him at his table. "Nice to see you again." She said, removing her gloves and waiting for one of the staff to deliver her beverage. "Is it? Thought you had floated out of my life for good." He replied. Though deep inside of him he was pleased, despite his cold greeting. He looked at her over his mug of tea, took a sip and then rested it beside his empty plate. "Don't be like that. You know you're glad to see me again." "Well, let me say I'm sorry for making a mess of things." He replied. "All sorted." She smiled. He melted at her beauty that was always irresistible. "So, come on, tell me how things are with you. I'm curious, I need to know." "I'm doing fine. Bad Christmas, but you don't need to know. Let's just say I'm on my feet again." "Good." The staff member delivered her coffee and she thanked her. "Then life is good?" Harry waved his hand signifying so so. "I kind of missed you." She admitted, which surprised him under the past circumstances. "We had fun." "Yeah, we did. Anyhow, I'm changing my life. Going celibate. Missing a girl friend I shacked up with. She just vaporised out of my life." Helen began to listen sympathetically to his story as he explained more or less everything she needed to know. "How's your frog boyfriend? Are you two together?" He asked. Helen laughed at the derogatory term 'frog' meaning French. A word used by the English for a while now, which made reference to the French delicacy of eating frog's legs. "You mean Jack? He's fine. He is still in France visiting family and trying to do some business." "So you're alone then?" "Yes. Apart from studies, I'm also bored." Suddenly Harry remembered his time with her. The sexual activity and lust they shared. His instincts began to kick in. "I can keep you from being bored." He chanced. She looked at him with a smile, with equal thoughts of sexual pleasure. She liked the idea and wrote down her address on a napkin and handed it to him. "Let's say after seven this evening?" Harry took the note, looked at it and grinned. "You bet. I wouldn't miss it for the world." Helen prepared a light meal for her guest. A simple buffet of assorted sandwiches and nuts with a chilled bottle of wine. It had been a while now since that Harry had come into her life, despite the chaos that came with him. She liked his smooth jack-the-lad attitude to life and his humour. Of course at the same time she liked the way he fucked. And to add, there was no way that Jack was due home for another few days. Someone like Harry was what she needed and he was no stranger. It was cold and snowing heavy outside as she looked out of the window. Her guest was running late and the thoughts of being let down began to enter her mind. Harry was that kind of man who could let anyone down anyway. Then the door buzzer sounded out. It made her jump, waking her from her deep thoughts of what she might be missing. She opened the door and there was Harry, clutching a bunch of roses and a bottle of no doubt cheap red wine. "Hi babe, sorry I'm late. Had a few things to sort out." He said. Helen looked at is gifts and laughed gently. "These? Well it's what they do in the movies isn't it?" Harry shrugged his shoulders and made his entry, pushing the door closed with his foot. "The important thing is, I'm here." Helen replied with a nod and smile as she detected his after shave lotion. She liked it. It suited him, but he still wore the bland clothing he always wore, but that did not matter. Harry laid the roses and wine on the vestibule table beside the telephone. Then he reached beneath the table to disconnect the phone. She watched every move he made. Then he turned to her and gently pushed her against the wall. He leaned both arms on either side of her. For a while they gazed into each other's eyes in silence. Then he moved his face close to hers, prompting a kiss which started slow and tantalising. She responded, slowly warming to his move. The kiss grew more and more passionate and it made her tingle all over. Jack's kisses did not do that to her anymore. It was only sex now that satisfied her passions with the Gallic lothario. Harry was more passionate, just the man she yearned for there and then. Her fingers ran over his white shirt, feeling for the buttons and one by one opening them while their deep kissing continued. Helen had no intentions of letting that moment stop, as tongues teased in play. Harry removed his jacket quickly and threw it anywhere, as she pulled his open shirt from his trousers. Harry resumed his position, leaning his arms on either side of her, a sign in human body language of his domination and control. The deep passionate kissing continued even more. If they could eat each other, then they would. It did not take long for Helen to totally resign to him, as he began to lift her restricting roll neck pink sweater to expose her bra covered breasts. He pulled away one of the cups to release one of her breasts, noticing the hardness of her nipple. He could not resist kissing and caressing it with his lips and tongue. She wanted him continue, to be taken, to be stripped naked and offer her body to him. He lifted off the sweater and keeping their kiss alive he began to open her bra, releasing it from her shoulders and flinging it just anywhere. Helen stared back at him as he admired her pert breasts, exposed for his hands to gently squeeze them, thumbs playing with each hard nipple that sent tingles to her groin. "I missed you," he said. "You have the most desirable body I have ever seen." "No. You say that to every girl you seduce. I know you too well." She replied. "You spoil the moment. But who gives a fuck. Right now you are all mine babe. Every inch of you and I'm fucking hard as hell." He knelt down, running his fingers gently along her slender legs, upwards on to her thighs. That felt so good to her. This was much better than David's sexual experiments. This was real erotic passion and much more romantic. Harry did that for her and she enjoyed each moment of it, clutching her breasts and squeezing gently, keeping the sensual feelings alive. Harry lifted her denim skirt as his fingers ran higher. He could see and smell how excited she was, her panties revealing a slight damp patch clearly visible. He had always realised how much Helen loved to be turned on so much by foreplay and seduction. It was always visible and detectable and his resistance to touch was never there. His fingers pulled her panties to one side and then he stroked the fine blonde pubic hairs, seeking out her outer lips. Helen closed her eyes and gave a satisfying gasp as Harry found her most sensitive part, his gentle fingertips pulling her sex apart as they both enjoyed that closeness, revealing her wetness and pink inner sanctum of privacy. She loved to share it. Offer it to her lovers. Especially Harry more than anyone now. He was young, gentle and experienced. It had been a while. Probably far too long in her estimation. His fingers stroked her clitoris, making it swell as more of her juices dribbled free from her widening vagina. She was already close to cumming, before he even got started. The teasing alone was enough and Harry looked up to see how much she was enjoying his actions. In his experience, Helen was the only woman he had ever known who could react to his foreplay so instantaneously. Slowly he slid off her panties, allowing her to step out of them and again throwing them just anywhere. Keeping her skirt around her waist Helen obliged and widened her thighs, knowing exactly what she wanted him to do. Without any hesitation, began to lick his slick smooth tongue between her lips, tasting what she had to freely offer. His tongue settled upon her clitoris, teasing it as she responded with almost silent extended moans of satisfaction. She felt her body quiver and gave him more of her liquid love. Already she was riding an orgasm and she did not want it to end. Forget the spiritual highs, the gentlest and smoothest were always the best in her opinion. Within seconds they were both naked. He wanted to take her from behind and Helen obliged by keeling on the couch, arms over the soft beige material back, offering herself to him as he stroked the smooth skin of her buttocks. She waited, not impatiently, for him to enter, feel his hardness smoothly run deep into her wanting vagina. She loved his cock, his hardness. She could grip him within and allow them both the pleasures of fucking. And Harry began to rub the tip of his manhood against her outer lips, taking on her lubrication before penetrating. The feel of him now teasing her lips and clitoris made her grip tightly on the back of the couch. She wanted him to enter there and then, but she waited, knowing that it was coming soon. He pulled her buttocks wide, exposing everything he wanted. Then slowly he entered. It made her gasp feeling his hardness within, the edge of his cock head touching that certain sensitive spot within. It was time to show her what he desired, a slow gently fuck, not too rough, but enough for them both to savour its pleasures. Her essence gave him the aromatic thrill of sex that kept him going slowly, letting her inner creaminess cover his manhood each slow thrust he made. Helen was now having those slow multiple orgasms, nothing too intense, just continual pleasure that made her moan softly. Harry placed a finger onto his cock as he withdrew to taste her exotic juices. That alone was enough for him to appreciate what he had in Helen. She was somebody who deserved to be treated gently during love making. He was feeling ready to cum, but Harry had control to keep it back. Helen was beginning to show she wanted it faster now by thrusting back against each penetration he made. Holding and gripping her buttocks, he obliged, speeding up to the demands of her excited screams and requests. She was at her highest point and so was Harry. He pulled out and she turned, sitting to face him. Harry stroked himself to his ultimate climax, allowing streams and streams of his cum to spray onto her lips and face. The celibacy he had forced upon himself allowed him to store his semen and it seemed as he was never going to stop as he moaned out wildly, giving her more and more of his warm thick creamy cum. The more expensive chilled white wine was all they wanted. Naked together on the couch they both looked at the layout of food. "Were you expecting more guests?" Harry asked in his dry sense of humour. Helen laughed. "That was for us." "I think we both had what we needed. Still, I'll have it for breakfast if that's ok with you? I intend to stay the night and make love to you more and more. You are so fucking hot babe, I find you irresistible." Helen sipped her wine and thought about his slightly crude comment. She wondered if he was falling in love with her, which would be out of the question. This was pure erotic lust and that is as far as it was going to go. The love of her life right there and then was Jack and nobody else. Even though sex with Jack was boring, there was a love and admiration. Harry was just for fun and yes, she wanted it to continue for as long as possible. Harry made her feel good. His love making was ideal in her mind and above all, he reminded her of those young men in her youth who were older and experienced enough to take her virginity with consideration for her feelings. In Harry she had rediscovered a play mate, not a lover, who could satisfy her the way she really wanted. The following morning, Helen woke up, her head resting on the pillow expecting to see Harry beside her, but he was gone. The apartment was in silence and through the window the snow continued to fall. Harry had risen hours before, well before the sun had risen to take up his job on the open retail market. She noticed that part of the buffet meal had been eaten. Atleast Harry had helped himself to breakfast. Helen wondered what kind of people endured the cold winter to sell their wares, especially in the snow. The same respect more so for the customers too. It was turning bad outside, almost all over the country, record snow falls were causing problems everywhere. Whilst taking a shower she heard the newscast on the radio that said the severe winter snow was affecting most of Europe, which included Paris where Jack was still working. In all of her life so far she had only known mild winters and it made her think of the problems of global warming, yet all around her outside there was nothing but freezing snow. It was time to wrap up warm and make her way to the institute. At the door was a small brown package that the post person had delivered. Its contents were bubble wrapped to protect it from damage. She had to open it. Her name and full address was clearly written on it and it was not often she had gotten packaged mail like that. Intrigue and curiosity had gotten the better of her as she tore back the stapled seal. Inside was the content of one mobile phone. I was not new and seemed to have been used quite a lot by whoever owned it. She flipped it open to reveal just one number. Again, curiosity got the better of her. Who could it be? She pressed the call button and waited. Harry had just collected a plastic mug of hot coffee from the mobile cafe. The retail market, full of shoppers taking advantage of cut price winter bargains dashed and took time to look at the offers on sale, although most of the goods were either second hand or rejected seconds. Harry's stall was quiet, there was not much demand for old movies or the under counter pornography. He sheltered from the snow under the canopy and leaned against the wooden structure to sip and warm his hands on the welcoming coffee mug. His mobile phone bleeped out its jingle in his pocket and he checked who was calling before answering. "Saskia?" he murmured to himself, "What the fuck?" He answered the call without hesitation. "Where have you been? Where did you go?" he asked immediately. "Harry? Is that you?" the reply came from a familiar voice. It was not Saskia, but Helen. Helen... Ch. 13 Harry looked at the number again on his mobile phone. It was definitely Saskia's number filed under her name. "Where did you get that number?" he asked. "I never gave you any numbers, not even mine?" "A phone was delivered to the apartment this morning. It had a number on it, so I called." Helen explained. "It came by parcel post." She looked at the package closely. "It's stamped and the postage mark is London. Is Saskia in London? And why is she sending me her phone?" Harry had to think about that. His girlfriend. Missing. Why would the phone be sent to an address she did not even know? "Wait... there is something wrong here," he replied. "I don't like this one bit." He asked Helen to describe the make and style. The description fitted exactly. "Can you meet me on the High Street market? I'll be in my usual place, the DVD stall?" "I'm on my way." Within the hour Helen arrived at the market and noticed Harry standing under the canopy, shivering in just his usual clothes. He caught site of her and waved her over. The snow was still falling heavy but the grit was melting it as fast as it was falling. She handed the phone to him. "What is going on?" "Fuck knows. This is mystery." He looked in the video file. Something Helen neglected to do. "One video. She had loads as far as I know." He started the video running. His eyes widened at what was recorded. He turned away and vomited instantly, throwing the phone onto the stall counter. Helen watched wondering what he had just seen. She moved to help him, but he put out his hand to stop her. "No, don't. Leave it." He grew pale, the burn of the cold on his skin suddenly reduced on his face. "Don't look at the video. Leave it." Helen stepped back and waited for him to return to some normality as he caught his breath. "Ok, what is on that thing? What did you just see?" Helen demanded. He leaned on the counter staring at the phone. "Saskia is dead. Definitely dead." "How do you know? The video recording?" Helen asked. He looked up at her and nodded slowly. "Then you must go to the police with it. Get whatever happened sorted out." "It's not that simple." "What do you mean? May I see it?" "No. Don't, it's not pleasant. Infact it's fucking horrid. Shaun O'Grady is a dirty cruel bastard." Harry replied with bitterness. "I knew he'd hurt her. But there was no need to kill her. Not the way he did." He realised that Hoffman was doing nothing about it, or so he thought. And why did Martin O'Grady throw him out onto the street? Why not kill him as well as Saskia? There were many questions now popping up in his head. He found it hard to think, but Helen being close by consoled him just a little. David gave his lecture in his usual smooth toned manner. His voice clear to all of his students across the lecture theatre as he explained the theory behind the Electra complex and incest. His eyes gazed around, trying to seek out Helen, who he now feared would reveal his secrets. She was not there that morning and that worried him even more. Perhaps the job he had asked for was done without payment up front as it were? He doubted it. Hoffman never worked that way. Later as the winter evening drew darker, Hoffman parked his car, an old model, scruffy pea green and not worth gathering the attention of anyone. Conspicuous in other words. Always conspicuous. He waited at the forecourt entrance for the one he needed to speak to. The heater in the car barely worked, but it provided some heat to take away the cold of the outside. He lit up a cigarette and noticed that the snow had stopped falling, watching the students pass by. He liked the young females and his mind began to wander a little. In his anima instinctive imagination he could smell and taste their hidden sex. He caught the burly figure of David crossing the fore court, trying to stay upright on the icy snow. Has he got closer to the car, he beeped his horn and opened the passenger side door. "Get in, quickly before the heat escapes." David slid in and closed the door. "I suppose you are either desperate for your money or you have come to deliver more eyeballs for the hawks?" David asked. "I have your money." He slipped a brown paper wrapped wad from his briefcase. "It's all there, sixty grand you said?" Hoffman just stared ahead without acknowledging him, smoking his cigarette calmly. "The job I ordered. The girl?" "I know who you mean," Hoffman replied. "The nice one. Too nice to die without pleasing first." "Well, if that's the way you want to put it yes. It would be nice to be there when you do it. But I suppose you are far to clinical in your work to oblige me that pleasure?" "You are a pervert professor." Hoffman replied. "No worse than you my friend." David grinned, handing over the wad. Hoffman looked at it and pushed it back. "What?" "I don't want it. Not yet anyway." "Up front, like you said. Take it." Hoffman wound down the window and threw out his cigarette butt. Then he turned to David. "Are you demanding again? I thought you were a clever man professor? Can't you understand English?" "My apologies. I didn't expect you to reject payment." Hoffman wound his window closed and quickly started the car, moving it out into the traffic. David was not expecting a lift home. "Where are we going?" he asked. Hoffman remained silent. "I'm not staying at the manor. You don't know where my cottage is." Still Hoffman remained silent, concentrating on his driving. "Nasty job," the police officer said to his colleague, as he looked up at the bridge. His colleague looked up and watched the suspended body hanging by the neck from the bridge's iron barrier. "I think it's the weather that makes people commit suicide. That and other things." They continued to watch has the police rescue men hauled up the body, laying it on the bridge pavement for the paramedics to confirm death. David's eyes stared up at them, blank and lifeless as they removed the rope noose from around his neck. It was the third suicide by hanging that day. Winter depression and cold weather forcing stressed out victims to take their own lives. Martin O'Grady opened his front door. "Ah! There you are," he said in a happy tone. "I was wondering when you were going to turn up." Hoffman stepped in and opened his scarf. "I've got my lads with me in the living room, so we can chat in the kitchen. A bit a of irish malt." Hoffman followed and threw the opened wad of money on the kitchen table. "There, twenty grand in cash." He said. Martin smiled, pleased to see his money back. "I told you I'd give it back. And..." He reached inside of his coat taking out a thicker wad of money, laying it on the table. "That's forty grand extra." "What for?" Martin poured out two glasses of whiskey. "I'm not greedy Mister Hoffman. The twenty will do nicely thank you." "It's for Shaun." "Shaun? Why Shaun. He did a runner on Christmas day with the..." Martin suddenly realised that he had accused Shaun for taking the money from the apartment and running off with it. He looked at Hoffman. "Where is Shaun?" "Where some people think he ought to be." "And, tell me. Where would that be?" "Now that would be like giving away a trade secret." He grabbed the glass of dark malt whiskey and drank it in one long swallow, allowing it to warm him. He had been out in the cold far too long that day and he needed a quick means of relieving his arthritis. "Listen Mister Hoffman, whoever you really are, I want to know what you did with Shaun and I need to know right now. You are playing with the wrong man here and I can make you regret it." Hoffman smiled as he stared back. "You like being the tough daddy of the gangster world don't you? Well, you and the rest are just playing like children in my opinion. Your threats don't even touch me." "Oh I see. You like to play with fire and guns too? You know I thought you were a decent kind of fella' when I first met you. Seems you need to know who is who around here. Not even the cops will touch me or my family, you know that?" Hoffman continued to smile unimpressed. "They can never find me. So I think we are kind of equal on that score." Martin became annoyed by his guest's bravado and insolence. He opened the back door and called out for Mick, supposedly working on something in the garden shed. There was no reply. "Climbing over your backyard wall quietly, set off my arthritis pain. It wasn't nice." Martin called out for Mick again as his two younger sons entered the kitchen from the lounge to see what the fuss was all about. Hoffman turned quickly and fired his gun, hidden within his coat. Two direct head shots and they fell to the ground as the silenced gun popped its charges. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Martin cried out. "Those are my boys you bastard." He ran to their limp bodies leaning against the door frame on either side of the lounge door, instantly lifeless as Martin made a desperate shout again for Mick's attention. "No use calling for Mick," Hoffman said, pointing his gun directly at Martin's head. "I think you'll find him in the garden resting in peace." Martin looked up. "You fucking murdering bastard." Hoffman looked down at him and agreed with a slow nod of his head. "You killed my fucking boys for nothing. They have nothing to do with all this." "I don't agree. I'm sure I made a promise to someone that I'd make all of you a job lot. Including the big Chinese guy in your garden. He wasn't that easy." "I hope you rot in fucking hell for this." Martin growled. "Still the tough guy right up to the end," Hoffman replied. "I admire your corruptness a little more now. I did expect you to plead for your life. Don't even think about moving Mister O'Grady," Hoffman noticed his victim try to make a quick one on one dash for the gun. "I don't like making people suffer. Quick and easy, that's my method. Not like your gang who have been known to hurt and torture their victims for almost nothing." Martin listened as he stared up at his predator. "This arthritis of mine really does hurt." Hoffman turned his head away, and in the same instance, pulled the trigger. Whilst Gerry Hoffman continued his frenzied killing spree, Harry and Helen put the situation to one side for a while. Saskia was dead and has yet Harry did not know why. Helen took him back to her apartment to make the most of Jack's absence in Paris, knowing that he would be catching up on old sexual acquaintances, male and female now it seemed, if David was to be believed. She did not care one iota about Saskia. She could not bring herself to do so because she had been her playmate's lover and probably if they had stayed together, she would never have met him again. The blinds on the windows shielded out the winter outside. The king size bed with its black satin sheet became their playground as both lay naked upon it. Helen turned and lay upon his body, teasing him with tiny kisses on his lips that grew more deep and passionate by the second. It was time to show Harry what she could do in the art of seduction, this time hoping for a more positive result that Jack could never give her in love making. Sensual and satisfying. Harry lay back, submitting to her moves, enjoying the control she had over his body. Soft romantic jazz music played in the background. Slowly Helen moved over his body, placing gentle licks over his chin, finding his erogenous zone on his neck and dwelling there listening to his responsive moans. A place she had found and enjoyed giving him pleasure by. She moved further with her tongue, slowly moving over his chest settling on his nipple, the cold of her saliva making him harden, goose bump as she moved over his navel. His manhood twitching between her breasts, getting harder by the second. She looked up at him and saw his eyes closed signifying that all was well with what she was doing. Her tongue licked gently over his cock, making it throb with pleasure. Harry was well endowed, just the right size for her. The smoothness of its head, purple and shiny to her tongue and lip caresses made her hot for more. She looked at how it's almost bow shape lay against his navel, furled with a tangle of veins. Its base wrinkled with skin that formed the bulge of his sack, too irresistible not to lick, giving teasing bites now and then. Harry began to moan in response, running his fingers through her soft smooth hair. His light brown preened pubic hair signified that he took great care in the appearance of his sexual parts. He tasted clean and if the rest of his body did on occasion smell sweaty, his manhood was fresh and hygienic. Helen was determined to change all of that. If he was renown to cum so hard, now she was going to see how much she could force him to do so with oral sex. His treat and her desire. Harry lay back stroking her hair and reaching out to feel her erect nipple and breast as she slowly took him into her mouth, feeling him on her tongue until she was confident enough to take him deeper, slowly, sucking gently, covering every centimetre with a mix of her saliva and his precum the more she took him in until her lips touched his pubic hair. She held him there until she pleasantly gagged upon him, releasing him to twist stroke him, which drove him crazy with ecstasy. She knew she had to slow down her technique a little or he would cum far too soon. To remedy the situation and cool down his ardour, she began to hold him the base and give him gentle licks up and down his cock. The more she tongue played against him the more his fingers pulled and twisted on her nipple, sending tingling sensations through her body, raising her orgasm, making her moan with pleasure. It was now too irresistible to ignore the feel of him inside of her. She needed to ride him until he was ready to yield his charges, hoping for the best yet. This time she was not allowing him to cum onto her face or in her mouth. This time she wanted to see it. Helen straddled his hips and guided him slowly into her moist vagina. Wetness against wetness made it easy. So easy she tightened her muscles around his shaft, riding it, letting herself eventually cum first. His hands grasped her buttocks and rhythmically swaying hips as he watched her pert breasts move with the smooth slow motion upon him. It felt so good to both of them. He could not resist holding her breasts and running his thumbs over her taught nipples, watching her close her eyes in total pleasure as his cock touched that certain magic spot within with each of her controlled thrusts onto him. Her total control brought her to her orgasmic climax, holding back the need to scream, until she could no longer constrain herself. Her massive gush of love juiced bathed his cock within. He felt it running over its length until it spilled out over his sack. It was not a great deal, but enough to soak him with her liquid love, filling the air with her sweet essence. Allowing herself to throb around him, quiver in ecstasy, she could tell by his moans that he was almost ready to shoot. Slowly she dismounted, much against his need to stay inside of her. She took him in her hand keeping the rhythm going until he jerked and gasped out. He was cumming and she continued to stroke until the first spurt arrived, followed by more and more thick creamy spunk, which landed in a thick pool on his navel. Now she could see it and let the last drops run down her fingers. There was always something wonderful about watching a man cum so much. It was irresistible to want to taste his salty tang. As Harry gasped to recover, she licked her fingers, showing him how much she appreciated it. Then she began to lick the remainder from his navel, consuming it, making him quiver with the sensation of her tongue and sight of her taking every drop to swallow. Simultaneously, he could feel her cumming on his fingers as he sought out the moistness of her sex. Helen... Ch. 14 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. Helen... Ch. 15 Harry looked across the table at the woman. She was checking through a file, her dark brown hair tied back into a bun, concentrating on the information thoroughly. Harry assumed she was in her forties, a very seasoned detective inspector by all accounts. Probably quite a bit of a stunner in the days she was just a constable. He was there for enquiries only. The last person to see Hoffman before his throat was cut. Again, he thought, a honourable death for a contract killer. What you give, one day you take back. The Tec looked up at him. "So, can you tell us anything about the dead man? A name perhaps? What was he looking for to buy on your stall?" "All that I know was he was a stranger, like many others. He was asking for a copy of Die Hard I think and a few other movies. Then he left. Next thing I know he was dead on the car park." "One stall owner tells us you were arguing with him?" "Well you do get the odd customer abuse. He wanted something for nothing." "We might want to speak to you again, if that is ok? We have no positive identification on this man and maybe you could later tell us something." "Fine by me babe... I mean Inspector, sorry." She smiled back. It had been a long time since anyone called her "babe" and she liked it. Normally she would not accept that term so easily, but Harry was different. He was handsome and it was taken as flattery from such a person. He seemed out of the 'picture' of the crime so far and perhaps a second visit just might bring him into contact again, if only to see him. "Well, I thank you for helping us with your enquiries. Try and think back to another time or place you might have known him." "I'll try, but I doubt it. He was just another potential customer." He replied keeping his anxieties well sealed in. He was glad to see the back of Hoffman and believed he had gotten his just dessert for killing Saskia, for whatever reason. Helen received a letter. She opened it and read its contents carefully over her morning coffee. It was Saturday and Jack was taking a shower in the bathroom. He was singing some French song loudly and he did not have one of singing voices in the world. It was annoying her a little as she tried to concentrate. The letter was from David's lawyer. His last will and testament was to be heard on the following Tuesday. It was obvious that she had been mentioned in it. Jack appeared from the bathroom, naked apart from a towel around his waist. He was in good spirits and kissed her on the forehead whilst giving her a breast a cheeky grope. "I feel good today, the snow is almost gone. That rain last night did us all a favour. Now I can drive safely again, walk the streets without slipping like an old man on the ice." "You are an old man." Helen replied in jest. Jack fluffed up her hair in reply and he was pleased to remove his towel to show her his proud manhood standing to full attention. "I see another old man is happy too." She replied giving it a lingering look. "Put it away. You can't use it yet. I'm on my period and you are just teasing me." Jack covered it up. "Atleast a quick blow job would be nice. But then again, I understand your feelings too." He poured a coffee and sat at the table. "What is the letter? It looks very official?" He tried to take it. Helen pulled away to stop his prankishness. "Oh, I see you have a secret you are not going to share with me. We must not keep secrets." Helen gave him a wry smile in reply watching him slurp his coffee. "If you must know, its business I need to tend to. Nothing important." She told him. Jack held up his hands in acceptance. "An old friend needs my help. You don't know them." She replaced the letter inside the envelope. "I think we should go shopping. I need some new clothes and you did promise." "That I cannot deny. Maybe some sexy underwear?" "That and other things. I can't walk around in just sexy underwear. Besides I have a two-piece suit I like. I hardly wear things like that and I think it's time I should." "With spectacles, you would look like a sexy secretary or one of those business women I often have to deal with." "Don't you mean fuck?" Jack grinned. "You do not know that. And remember, we agreed not to talk about those things. When we are both apart we fuck anyone to satisfy our needs. How is Harry by the way? Have you seen him over Christmas and new year?" Helen playfully hit him on the head playfully. His comment was a clear tease in retaliation for her earlier comment about his love making habits with other women while he was away. And yes, they did agree and she was glad that he had remembered. "Poor David. I miss him and Jayne. Do you?" Jack asked. "You know, for a lesbian she is a good fuck. It was a pity you did not join in that threesome and make it a foursome. Now those things are over." "They both taught us to be submissive. I don't think I liked that. It upset both of us for a while." "Yes it did. Maybe we are not submissive after all." Jack replied. Helen looked at him for a while thinking. "What? Tell me what is on your mind?" He asked. "Well, atleast you discovered one thing. You are bisexual." Jack frowned and thought hard and deep about her comment. "Yes, I admit. You are right." Harry stood in the middle of the empty apartment lounge he had inherited from Hoffman. The thing was he did not know where he had put the important deeds. He needed them to put the place on the property market. His idea was to sell the apartment, keep some money for himself and find somewhere else smaller to live. After all, why would he need such a big place stripped of its furnishings? He was penniless basically and selling was his best option. "I would rent it." He turned quickly to the open door and saw the owner of the voice. She was tall, blonde, eyes like sapphires and in his instant estimation sex on two legs. The stranger walked in looking around, getting a feel for the spaciousness. Harry was taken aback by her forwardness being uninvited and brash. "Excuse me? Who are you?" he asked. She grinned at him with a wink. "I'm the one with the deeds. May I introduce myself? I am Greta Hoffman." She held out her hand to him and he shook it nervously. Greta Hoffman? Something was weird about the whole thing. Hoffman having a relative or even a young wife? "I'm Mister Hoffman's adopted daughter." And with that, it answered his forthcoming questions. Harry's eyes were all over her, the open jacket and white blouse unbuttoned half-way showing her ample breasts, snug in a tight black bra. Her pleated knee length skirt matched the jacket ad there was no doubt in Harry's mind she was either wearing stockings or tights. She opened he shoulder purse and waved the brown envelope containing the deeds. "How did you get that?" He asked. "The police found it in my dads' car. Your name is on the deeds, so don't worry, I'm not going to be able to steal this place away from you. But if you are thinking of selling then all I can say is that it's a bad idea. It's got income potential and I think you should think wisely about that." She placed the envelope in his hand. Harry barely caught most of what she said. His eyes were elsewhere having a detrimental effect on his hearing too. "Ok, got ya babe. So, what did the cops say about finding a document like this having my name on it?" "Not a lot. You didn't sign it. So they assumed it was on its way to you. Just another customer on the property market?" She looked through every room as Harry followed her. "It needs furnishings. Good top range modern styles to attract the right clients." She turned to look at him. "I can deal with that, so don't worry." "I have to ask. Did you know exactly what your step father did for a living?" "Oh yes," she said with a grin that was partially considered as evil. "He was in the disposal business and I believe you were one of his clients, am I correct?" Like father like daughter Harry thought. Hoffman was not exactly a loner in his business by the sounds of it. "Yeah, but I'm sure he did a good job on one of my friends..." "Saskia yes." She interrupted. "I have to agree. She was the wrong victim unfortunately. The Saskia he was told to dispose of did quite a lot of talking to the authorities in Italy. Dad's clients were not happy and so he himself was disposed of. Shame really. He being so good at his job." She brushed past him, showing no emotion over her fathers' death. Harry was beginning to realise that these people were born to be emotionless and above all evil when it came to other fellow humans. She stood in the spacious lounge. "I know what is on your mind Harry." She turned to look at him. "Right now you are thinking that you would just love to fuck my butt off. So I'll tell you, you have no chance whatsoever, so forget it." "Wait. You can't say that. I'm a decent guy. I don't think about those things... well, not often..." "Oh shut up. The deal is I have this place painted and furnished. You find a client to rent it and we split the rent between us. That sounds fair to me. Sixty forty. Sixty percent obviously to me for my maintenance services." "Hang on. I own this place. I should be offering you a price for regular maintenance, not you dictating it. When did you become my boss regarding this place? Besides, I haven't decided what I'm doing with it yet. In other words, no deal babe, ok?" "Oh you will see it my way. Believe me, you will." She replied with that confident smile which scared Harry just a little. He was confident enough to make up his own mind, and hid his doubts well. Something he had become accustomed to during his roughish survival childhood. She offered him her calling card and he took it. With that she left him alone, disappearing through the door and he had no desire to follow her. Helen prepared for the reading of David's last will and testament. The new suit that Jack treated her to was ideal for looking the part. She showered and began to dress, first the purple bra and hipster panties with suspender belt to match, then the dark grey silk stockings. For the first time in a long time she was out to impress whoever was at the hearing. The blouse followed as she admired herself in the mirror. The day before she had he hair trimmed and streaked with brown highlights, and then the knee length grey skirt and jacket. Jack was right; she did look like an executive rather than a student struggling to graduate, penniless without Jack to lean on for assistance. He was the man she hoped to marry one day and move to Paris, although he did not know it yet. It had been well over a week since she saw Harry. The break was good, but she was now feeling horny for a session of sex with him. He was the lothario lover who she intended to play with like a toy boy and again Harry was unaware of her thoughts and feelings for him. They were simply play mates and that was all Harry needed to know. There was no love lost. Yet she desperately needed satisfaction. First, the business ahead. What exactly did David Lord leave to her, if anything at all in his will? Harry had other things on his mind that afternoon. Greta had invited him to the swankiest hotel in town for lunch. The Victoria Grand was for the very rich and he had problems getting through the reception. He was too casually dressed for their high standards, and Greta rescued him at the door from the bullying security men who were going to throw him out bodily onto the street. The restaurant played soft classical music at low volume. The diner's voices mingled with the music like a hum. They ordered their lunch. Cod and chips did not go down well with the waiter and Greta corrected it for the nearest type of cuisine on offer. "I've been thinking about this rent thing of yours." Harry told her in almost a whisper across the table. Greta poured herself a glass of water willing to listen. "Good. Because I've already found a client." Greta replied with confidence." "Hold on! I was supposed to do that. You do the furnishing and decorating." "I can't trust you to find anyone decent enough." "So, tell me what part do I play in this deal? Do I get the sixty percent?" Harry asked. Greta just smiled and said nothing. "So this is the way you intended to force me to accept the deal on renting. But I'll tell you now, you are out of order. And who is the client? Some rich Arab sheik I suppose?" The waiter delivered their meals, laid it out and poured the wine. "Would madam require desert?" he asked, completely avoiding asking Harry. It was obvious that he was out of place. Greta shook her head and dismissed the waiter. "No Harry, it isn't an Arabian oil baron. The client happens to be no other than myself. I quite like it to be honest. Situated in the middle of town. I can conduct my business from there. It's ideal." "And what is your business apart from everybody else's?" Harry asked, realising he was served lobster rather than fish, with minted mashed potato and various vegetables he had never even seen before. Greta watched him picking at his meal. He tasted it and found it quite edible, besides the fact that he was very hungry. "I can't tell you what my business is. It's very private." She told him. Harry grabbed the glass of white wine and emptied the glass in one prolonged swallow, then resorted to eating the lobster with his fingers. Not that Greta was bothered, infract she found it amusing. "I hope you don't treat your women like that?" She said with a grin. "Want to try me?" Helen arrived purposefully late at the lawyers office. She phoned ahead to tell them she was on her way. She wanted the reading to be quick and over with in order to avoid Jayne or any others that may be present. Meeting David Lords' relatives was something she wanted to avoid as much as possible. All that she knew about those kinds of proceedings were simple. Someone leaves you something and you collect the legal right to them. The thing was, deep in her mind she partially blamed herself for encouraging his suicide by discovering things about him. She was shown to the office by the receptionist. Inside she was greeted by just one other person, the only one apart from the lawyer himself and that was Jayne. Instinctively, Helen accepted Jayme's hugs and then they both sat before the lawyer's des who seemed patient to begin. "This will not take too long. The executor being present." The lawyer nodded to Jayne. She turned to Helen and smiled, reaching out t take her hand. Although Helen did not really want to take it, she did out of respect. "To my wife and executor Missus Jayne Lord..." The lawyer began, and Helen suddenly realised with that Jayne was David's legal wife. "...my full estates and properties herewith listed..." The list seemed endless as the lawyer reamed off various articles of small properties including his ex wife's' jewellery and items of priceless antiques. "And to my friend and student, Miss Helen Mason, I leave the sum of eighteen million pounds along with the remaining sum of fifty two million pounds to my wife and executor Missus Jayne Lord." Helen could not believe it. David had left her an amazing sum of money. He was a latent millionaire. He had to be to have so much money. "Can you repeat that sum again please?" she asked. The lawyer repeated the lines on the document again. She thanked him, trying to absorb the figure in her mind. Eighteen million. She too was suddenly a millionaire. "May I continue?" the lawyer asked. "There are conditions." Helen wondered, what conditions? Something she did not expect. She looked around at Jayne who continued to smile. "The conditions are as follows..." the lawyer carried on reading the document. "In order that Miss Mason inherits the said sum, she must make a legal and binding contract of partnership with Missus Jayne Lord, thus sharing all remaining property and that listed above at the consent of Missus Jayne Lord." "A binding contract?" Helen queried. "You mean I must marry her? As in a lesbian partnership?" "Exactly that Miss Mason. As there is no legal marriage possible between two members of the same sex, a legally binding contract of partnership is sufficient." The lawyer explained. "And then the eighteen million pounds is yours." Helen let go of Jayne's hand quickly. "No, no... That can't be right. I don't want a contract with her." "Then your inheritance of eighteen million will be left uncontested. Neither of you get that sum until it is legally claimed." The lawyer explained. Helen became a millionaire and suddenly she was poor again. Jayne remained silent whilst Helen thought hard about the situation. "There is one bonus to that contract," the lawyer began, in order to speed up a conclusion. "Should the contract be ended, by demise of one or the other partner, the two remaining sums or whatever is left of those sums will legally belong to the surviving partner, unless either makes a last will and testament countering the agreement." "What he means dear Helen is, if I die, all of David's money is yours, including my share." Jayne explained. "But you have to enter a binding contract of partnership with me. It's the way he wanted it I suppose. Personally I don't mind." Helen could not believe that such a condition was concocted. Jayne had to be an accomplice in the whole situation. She could not even believe that Jack was not mentioned either, just to make it all one complete 'kinky' ride. She had to decide on the condition, but she was not ready. She was not a lesbian. "I need time to think about it." She declared. The lawyer looked at Jayne and she nodded her reply. "Then a second reading will be held in a few weeks time," the lawyer explained. "That will give you both time to discuss the disputed conditions and you will be informed by my secretary of the date. I thank you both." Greta and Harry returned to the apartment after their lunch appointment. To his surprise the whole place had been re-furnished and decorated. There had been no time wasted. And to add to that, Greta wasted no time in seducing Harry. There was no way she was going to let him seduce her or allow sexual intercourse. The terms for sex had to be entirely dictated by Greta. And she had no objections in making her next desired move. Harry sat on the brand new leather settee with his pants around his ankles. Greta sat beside him, leaning into his hard manhood, tasting it as she swallowed and gulped on his precum, expertly stroking him to his climax. Harry griped her blonde hair as gently as possible as he tried to hold back his load a little longer. His moans echoed louder around the walls of the lounge until he resigned himself in declaring; "Oh fuck, I'm cumming... I'm cumming." Greta looked up at him as he filled her mouth with thick warm spunk. She kept on stroking and sucking him until he could take no more, letting every single drop of his cum empty into her throat. Harry caught back his breath as Greta licked every drop that had escaped around her lips. The whole act was unexpected. "There," Greta began. "I did tell you that you would have no chance of fucking me. But, what was to stop me fucking you?" Harry was speechless, recovering from what he described as the most spontaneous blow job he had ever experienced. Now it was over, he felt as if he was truly forced into resigning to this strange, but beautiful woman's desires. The fact was, Greta found him sexually attractive and being the 'slut' she was could not resist in finding out what he was made of and what he tasted like. "Do you normally do business like that with all of your business partners?" Harry asked, still holding onto his semi-hard manhood. Greta threw him a tissue to wipe himself clean from the neat silver fresh wipe dispenser on the low table. She had nothing to say in reply. The sex was over and she was personally satisfied until she found the time alone to enjoy her trusted toys. As far as men were concerned, they had cocks, they had spunk, of which she found irresistible, and that was it. Helen... Ch. 15 Greta opened a bottle of Moet Champagne, poured out two flute glasses and handed Harry one of them to seal the deal. Harry recognised the blow job as an extra incentive. "Wait!" Harry held up his hand. "What is the deal?" "Oh sorry, I forget to mention." Greta smiled. "I give you a fixed sum of seven hundred a month and that is it." Harry wasn't sure if that amount was even a going rate for such a massive luxury apartment. He had no time to check it out. Greta seemed adamant that that was the price and there was no more to be said or negotiated. They clinked their glasses and cheered the deal. It was done. "Hang on. What about inflation? Don't I have the right to increase the rent?" Greta gave him that evil suspicious grin and told him; "I will dictate that, not you." "Ok, throw in a blow job every so often and I might be happy about it." Greta lit a cigarette, one of the expensive pink wrappered brands often smoked by ladies of class. "Let's just say Harry, I'll call upon you when I need to give you a blow job whenever I feel inclined to give one." Harry somehow felt as if he had no control of what the deal entailed. All he got from it all was a fixed sum every month a 'promise' for more amazingly expertly given sexual relief. Although full blown sex would have been a better promise in his opinion. He wanted her body, a good session shared amicably, but he did not press the issue for now. Quickly his thoughts turned to Helen, who atleast provided such sharing whenever Jack was not around. Harry returned home to old Bill. He explained the amount that he was to receive. "You've been done lad. That's all I can say. That apartment is worth atleast two grand a month. You need to learn a thing or two about properties." They shared a six pack of larger between them whilst Harry pondered what Bill had explained. "I think you should go back to her and re-negotiate that rent." "I can't, I signed a rent agreement. It's sealed." "Then all I can say is...You're a bleeding idiot." Bill replied, looking very disappointed in the young man he trusted and liked like a son or nephew. Although only a respected retail marketeer, old Bill knew his property knowledge from others in his trade, who also dabbled in that area of business. "Still, I'll up your wages a little to help ease your mistakes. Then you can find a small place of your own. Sounds like this bint is a femme fatale lad. I'd keep a close eye on her." Helen... Ch. 16 It was almost 6am. Helen could not sleep for thinking about David's will, which she was adamant that Jayne had manipulated when David was alive. And that made her wonder even more about his suicide. David was not the kind of person who would so easily commit suicide unless he feared what she had discovered. Helen would not reveal his secrets to anyone. He was a friend and another sexual play mate. She had fallen in love with the hawks and the only way she would get to see them again was accept the proposed contract. That itself would split her and jack's relationship, unless he joined in the threesome arrangement. As yet, she had not told him and that made her even more uneasy. Jack stirred from his sleep beside her. "Are you awake? I felt you tossing and turning all night. That isn't like you Helen. There is something on your mind, I know and feel it." Jack said. They both slept naked, enjoying the skin to skin contact when they slept together. Helen turned to him and hugged him for comfort, and she began to break down, sobbing. "My love, what is it?" Jack asked, comforting her. "You must tell me." The first thing Jack thought was she was pregnant, but that was far from the real reason for her being upset. "No, I can't, I can't tell you if you don't know already." "Well, if you tell me then I might know." She looked at him with tears. She was thinking hard about revealing the contract. "I'm not a lesbian and you know that. I have never wanted another woman, apart from my fantasies. But I can't in real life." Jack wondered what she was trying to say. "I can't do it. Not even for eight million pounds." "Eight million pounds? What are you talking about girl?" He wiped the tears from her face as she sighed. Already she had almost said enough. She looked down knowing that he was going to want to know every detail. "You had better tell me." He insisted. "You must share our emotions, we agreed. And eight million is a lot of money for doing something against your will and personal standards. This amount of money you mention sounds too extreme. Did someone ask you to do something?" Helen had said too much mentioning the money. She found the guts and comfort to eventually reveal all about David's will. Jack listened with patience as Helen stared outwardly as she spoke, resting her chin on her knees, a sure sign to Jack that Helen was revealing a disturbing truth, still a child within, as if she was revealing something that bothered her, scared her. Jack could hardly believe the revelation. He was disturbed to think that David was cruel enough to manipulate Helen's life like he had done in the will. Eight Million pounds was a kind gesture, but the strings attached made the gesture disgusting and unacceptable. The weekend that they had stayed at the manor were just friends having outrageous fun, not a reason to even think of manipulating someone's life? And yes, Jack realised that Jayne was capable of supporting such an idea. She was desperate to have Helen all to herself, and David gave her that opportunity in his will with the enticement of money. "Listen. No matter what money is offered, you must tell the lawyer you do not want the contract with Jayne. This money you never had will never be missed. Life will still go on. Our lives together. Do you hear me?" Jack explained. Helen found his reply comforting. He was angry, but not at her. He was angry with both Jayne and the demised latent millionaire, David. They both held each other close and Helens tears were not for fear, but now for relief that she had told Jack everything. He was right, the eight million would have changed their lives, but love was more important to both of them. Proof positive that they were special together, despite the games they both played with other 'lovers'. The day arrived for the second reading of the will. Helen was confident about what she should do. In the lawyer's office Jayne sat waiting with a smirk on her face. Soon, she thought, Helen would be hers. Eight million to spend and the contract would be like a lesbian marriage, tied together in a contractual matrimony which the lawyer read out clearly. The contract was there; ready to sign by both parties. The lawyer slid the document towards Helen across the desk, with the cheque clipped to it for Helen to take for just her signature. The lawyer seemed concerned as he handed her the pen. It was something that he seemed to disagree with, but Jayne was his client, and everything was legal. Helen slid the document back. "No, I'm not signing it. I don't need the money." She turned to Jayne whose face had turned into a disappointing grimace. "And, I don't want anything to do with her either. This is conspiracy between two people. And, I don't even love her." The lawyer took the document and slipped it into a folder as he looked at Jayne. "I'll arrange for all the money to be made out to you Jayne. I think this case is done with." "No!" Jayne stood up in anger. "You are a lawyer. You must force her to sign." "Yes, I am a lawyer. But I'm not the law. It sees clear to me that Miss Mason is not interested and that is entirely up to her. She refuses, and then the conditions are cancelled. Nobody can make her sign, not even a judge under these circumstances. It should have been discussed properly between all three parties. I'm sorry. I did warn you." Helen left the office and Jayne followed in haste taking Helen by the arm, pulling her around to face her. "David wanted this. You are so cruel not to accept it. And, I admit, although you might not accept this, ever since the first day I met you I started to want you for my lover." "Well all I can say is David was very generous. But I think you manipulated him into those conditions, which makes you a cruel bitch." Helen replied. "I'm not. I just wanted you to have security, someone who will take care of you. There has to be no sexual relationship between us. I just care about you." "And Jack? Where would he fit into all of this plan of yours?" "Helen I swear it isn't my plan. David wanted you and Jack to live with me in the manor. Jack is part of this, if only you would understand. He realised how you felt about the place, the hawks and I agreed entirely. That is how much I care and...Love you and Jack." Helen thought for a while and decided to invite Jayne for coffee in the nearest restaurant. Jayne suggested a tea room that was quiet enough for them to continue their chat. Helen needed to hear more, as Jack seemed out of the picture when she read the contract briefly. Greta waited outside the market for Harry to finish his work. She was leaning against her very expensive saloon car, looking as sexy as ever in his eyes. "Hello Harry, how's it going?" she asked with a wanting smile. "You know business as usual. What are you doing here then?" She shrugged her shoulders. "I thought I might invite you to the apartment. I've been thinking if you might want something nice to eat." There was innuendo in her manner of speech. Harry smiled, pondering the offer. "You know I don't often have guest over for dinner, unless it happens to be someone special." "Oh, so you've decided I'm special then?" "Well, let's say I'm willing to see how special you can be." Immediately Harry knew exactly what the offer was. Greta's alluring smile gave it all away. But, he had a more alluring offer from Helen. Jack was in Paris on business again. They had not seen each other for weeks and Harry wanted a lot more than just something to eat. He was a man caught between two offers, yet he knew which one he wanted the most. His tongue knew exactly where to touch as his fingers stretched open the inner lips of her sex. She did not want him to stop. She was sensitive and needed to cum so much and he was the man to take her to her climax as he body tingled in every part imaginable. She wanted him to taste her sweet nectar so much. It had been a while now, and Jack was not as expert as Harry was, as his lips began to tease her clitoris with gentle and subtle kisses that turned gradually into sucking. That was it as far as Helen was concerned as she reached her peak, her climax, letting him know that she was ready to cum with her gasps, moans and quaking muscles. If anyone could bring her to the point of ecstasy it always had to be Harry. David was too rough, too wild, but Harry knew exactly how to use his lips and tongue in the best sex ever that Helen loved, the oral delight of his fingers inside of her as he teased her with his tongue into yielding the nectar of love. She had already given him her first taste. Harry knew there was more of her sweet yet slightly tangy love juice. Helen writhed as she kept herself at peak, continuing to let him know he was doing exactly what she wanted and needed by her gasping moans. Like all men, it was the signal to carry on, but without haste. The pleasure was smooth, slow enough for her to enjoy it and yield more nectar for him to taste and drink. To him, Helen was worth waiting for, because he knew like she, the time to release their desires where the ultimate in sexual pleasure. If only she would see that, and make her realise that he was the right lover for her, not Jack. Entering her was a good feeling for Jack. Helen felt him slide in gently and tightened her muscles, watching him appreciate how much that made him feel so good. She was very moist and that made it all the better for both of them. Still, Harry took his time as they kissed passionately. Only this time that kiss was stronger and more meaningful and Helen realised that. It did not perturb her that he was more passionate than before. As always he fucked her slow and deep whilst massaging her breasts gently, thumbing her hard firm nipples. Again, Helen responded with her moans of pleasure, only this time Harry joined her. Together they became a sexual choir of harmonious joy until it happened. He had released his cream inside of her. This time there was no pulling out and spreading his cum where ever she wanted. Their gasps and moans slowed down as they relaxed. They stared at each other in silence, knowing that a golden rule had been broken in their recent agreement. No chances were to be taken. Only Jack was allowed to cum inside of her now. She had given up on the contraception in order to atleast become pregnant with Jack's child per chance. "Why did you let that happen?" Helen asked softly. "I wanted you to cum on my tits. You came inside." "I know babe, I'm sorry, I couldn't help it." He pulled out his still semi hard cock and lay beside her staring at the ceiling as she turned on her side to cuddle up to him. "Must admit, that was one of the best fucks I've had with you." He told her. She listened, above his crude manner of explanation. She considered herself not just an object to be fucked, but to made love to. "I couldn't hold back, I was turned on so much..." Helen put her fingers against his lips to stop him from saying anymore. She knew what he felt, what had happened. After all, people fall passionately in love, including play mates, eventually. She was beginning to feel the same way about him. If only they could see more of each other. "You mean to say that this Hoffman fellow's daughter turned up?" Helen asked. She and Harry were having breakfast. As always, his eating habits were messy to say the least as he tried to reply with his mouth stuffed with baked beans and toast. "You're going to choke one day." Helen commented. "Yeah," Harry managed to swallow the food in haste. "She's the tenant in the apartment now. I fucking regret it though." He wiped his lips with a tissue. Helen watched finding his piggish habit funny as well as his comment. "Ripping me off as if she owns the place. Dictating to me on how much rent she pays me. I'm not used to things like that. What do I know about property rents?" "Kick her out. Send her a revised rent agreement and if she refuses, kick her out." "I wish I could. But there is this contract thing I signed that she wrote. You know me, my reading isn't that good and she told me it was a great deal. For her, she meant. I get almost fuck all from it. And another thing..." Harry stopped talking and thought a while. He remembered he was talking to Helen, and his next comment about the gradual enticement to having sex with Greta in order to manipulate him more was not for her ears. "Go on. This other thing?" "Nah... Doesn't matter babes. She's got me by the balls really." "I just can't believe this is Hoffman's daughter." Helen grinned. "Are you sure?" "Well, she said she was. Who else could she be?" "She could be anyone. She could even be a part of those who killed Hoffman. The gangsters?" "Those, yes..." Harry sat back thinking. He had never even thought of that before now. It was a huge possibility too. Greta could be planning something. And, how did Hoffman really get the apartment in the first place, so willing to give it away so easily. He lit up a cigarette, one of a few he was allowed to smoke whilst being in Jack and Helens home. "I'll let you think about it. I have to get ready for uni." Helen went towards the bathroom. They touched fingers intimately as she passed him, leaving him to think things through and make some sense of what was really going on. Greta could indeed be a trickster. And who are the people involved in killing Hoffman? Helen could hardly concentrate on the lecture. Her mind was racing through all kinds of things; Jayne, Jack, David's suicide and Harry. She realised that her emotions were starting to alter towards Harry. This play mate situation that her and Jack played whilst they were part companied was fun, but it was all one sided. She knew nothing of any of Jack's lovers in France, yet Jack openly accepted the fact that Harry would always turn up when he was not around. In other words, Jack's lovers were secret and that began to make her feel vulnerable slightly. One day he might never return to England. Everything they have coming quickly to an end. Harry so far was not the kind of person she was looking for regarding a stable future. Yet he was the gentlest lover she had ever experienced so far. Harry could do anything to her regarding sex and she loved and appreciated it. Yet as a partner, the future father of her children and living together knowing what his personality was like was not quite right for her longer term ambitions. Whereas Jack could provide a future, much more comfortable, good education for their offspring and a new place to live in France. Jack was her prince in shining armour, despite their age difference. She wondered if that was why she loved him. Had she got the concept of true love wrong? Almost every man she passed in the street looked good enough to eat. It did not matter about their age either. Some older men looked sexier than the younger ones. She imagined at a glance what kind of lovers they would make, like labelling them; poor, good, possibly excellent. Although it was only a game she was playing with herself, it did make her realise more about finding the right person. It was fine placing labels on certain men at a glance of how good a fuck they maybe, but what else could they give to her regarding happiness and security? Was it really a game of chance? Every night she and Harry spent together in Jack's absence was amazing. He was everything she could want regarding sex. She could allow herself to be more closely intimate with him and he never once complained. He allowed her to do anything to him and he never objected. Infact, he refined the act into something more beautiful and erotic, even romantic, such as showing her how to deep throat carefully without it being distressful. The gagging turning into a more pleasurable, intimate experience and a sharing that was almost defined as unity. He understood how much power and pleasure the act gave to her as well as feeling good for him too. The swallowing of his cum was another taboo she had learned to master. Once she thought obliged to take it, but Harry explained how closer it made them, to share the tastes of each other in a more acceptable way for both of them. And where did a man like Harry learn his skills? Were they natural, animal instincts of the human love maker? She realised his lifestyle made him what he physically was. He moved fast, ate enough and kept himself reasonably fit. A product of human life in the human zoo we call a community. He was quite entertaining too. He was funny because of his brash attitude and almost devil may care outlook on life. To top it all, he was in her eyes simply beautiful. In contrast, David's styles of kinky sex were simply fetish based. She self admits that she did like to take part in the darker sexual acts. It was another stage of setting the limits of likes and dislikes and the most extremes she was prepared to go. She thought his role play ambitions of stalking her to rape her were strange yet exciting. Something she did not want in "real "life, but was accepted in a game. Everything that Harry did was simply "natural". Everything that Jack did was based upon self satisfaction and ambition with respect. He was also bi-sexual and obviously had more experience in both sexes, even though he kept the gay side of him as secret as possible. Regarding Harry, her education told her the signs. He was falling in love with her, whether or not he knew it himself. And she too felt that emotion for him more and more. It was the same with Jack, but now in a different kind of way. Fate was dealing its hand and aspirations meant nothing. What was to be will be? Was it to be after all, a resignation towards the fittest of men? Her own sexual experiences had been lacking. As a teenager she was more reserved than experimental, yet peer pressure played its part amongst friends. She had experienced a sexual intimate friendship with a girl once. She enjoyed the same sex empathy of sharing, but men were more interesting and mysterious. And then the time came when she realised how much attraction she had for both sexes. She developed into an object of desire, blessed by nature for nature itself to play its part eventually. Procreation. "Hang on a minute!" Harry pointed a finger at Greta. He had made a quick visit, using his key card to get in. Greta was watching the TV and she was caught by surprise. Before she had time to use the remote control to turn off the set, Harry noticed what she was watching. His eyes were fixed upon the screen and the CCTV footage of the market he worked on. Greta quickly turned it off and he looked at her. "What was that you were watching?" He asked. "Nothing special." Greta found it hard to explain herself as she stood beside the TV. She became nervously agitated, no longer the confident natured person she always shown him. This time she was embarrassed. "Why would you be watching CCTV footage? The market place?" "Why would you let yourself into my home uninvited using a key?" "Because, technically I own this gaff, ok?" "Look, let me explain a few things..." Greta began to explain. "I...er... oh shit!" "Well? I'm waiting. Only the cops have access to stuff like that. So how come you have it?" Greta gazed up to the ceiling in resignation. She threw the remote control onto the couch and then looked back at him. "I'm waiting for an answer." He insisted. "I am a cop, ok?" Greta replied. "I have my ID in my purse. I didn't want you to know, not yet atleast, not until I can clear you from the scene of the crime." "I've already been interviewed. I know nothing." "Well, something turned up unexpected. So now I'm on the case. To be honest I don't think my technique was working. And, yes, I went a little too far offering you sexual favours. I have been warned about it all." Harry listened, trying to make some sense out of what Greta was telling him. "So, let me guess, you are not Hoffman's daughter, or bloody step-daughter, or whatever you are fucking meant to be apart from my rip off tenant." His voice was raised. He was angry. Helen... Ch. 16 "No need to shout, ok? I just openly explained to you who I was, ok?" "Why are the police investigating? What are they investigating? Me?" He asked. "Yes, you. We think you know who Hoffman is." "I see. And you don't?" "No we don't. We have a dead body. Murdered in the market place and basically you were the last person to speak to him. But, the man who killed him wasn't you. We have the whole thing on CCTV record. Thing is Harry, he never really existed. And so we discovered that he actually gave this place to you through a contact I can't name. There is even a second incident this contact mentioned." "Which is?" Harry was beginning to make sense of the sexy cop before him. "The murder of a girl? Right here in this apartment." Harry was now thinking faster than he had ever done in his whole life before. It was catch twenty-two. He had to remain calm, cool and placid as if he knew nothing, just like he was at his interview, especially now that Saskia was mentioned, the girl who was murdered, possibly on the exact spot that Greta was standing. "I see. And you can't say who this contact is?" "Unfortunately not. He says he can tell us everything. Actually he's playing with us. He leaves messages now and then. He probably is the murderer..." "Or you think I am. Right?" Harry butted in. Greta nodded her reply. "The only thing you need is evidence, witnesses and all that?" "I've had forensics in here. They found nothing conclusive. Look, to be honest, you don't fit the profile of a murderer. That's my job with the police. I'm a profiler." "Oh I see. So giving blow jobs is what a cop profiler does?" Harry asked. He was still annoyed with her for playing with him. She reached for her purse and produced her official ID and moved closer to him to show him the wallet. Inspector Greta Gee. All ways now revealed to him. "I was warned not to use sex as a means of getting information. I'm sorry about that Harry." "I'm not bothered about that, it was good. But what I don't like is being tricked. And another thing, the rent you lot are paying is ripping me off. I'm going to have to increase it." "Well, we have done all we can here. The reason I'm staying on is to use it as a base and keep the yellow and black tape off the door. This apartment is evidence and you are still a suspect." "Ok, I forgive you for the cover up," Harry calmed himself down. For Greta it was a kind of weight being lifted from her shoulders. She was a psychologist and not an actor. The whole charade was starting to make her job more difficult. And another thing was; it was her very first case. That she was not going to let Harry know about. "So that means I can sell this place or move in myself?" Harry asked. "Maybe. I don't know what the outcome is." She walked around the couch, leaning forwards. Harry noticed her breasts cleaved inside of her top. She was flirting and that was Harry's natural weakness. She was sex on legs, a gorgeous woman and she gave very nice blow jobs. Thing is in Harry's mind; he never got to see or taste all of the goods. "You being a suspect or a witness is a problem. That is until this stranger reveals himself and what he knows." "And?" Greta leaned forwards more. Only this time, now that all had been revealed, it was not an act. She wanted him, but did not know how to say it apart from the body language she was displaying. "Well I think I might have to keep a closer eye on you. To clear you from being a suspect." She tried to make it sound matter-of-fact. Harry was not impressed. It was openly clear that she was flirting with him. It had been a long time since she had last had full bodily sex with a man. The enticement the other day was just her idea of starters, and the act she had to follow gave way to that. Harry was a perfect specimen of the man she wanted, if only to taste him first and then go the whole way later. In her mind, that was still a huge possibility. As beautiful as she was, the opportunity for sex with a man became rare. She had been away on training courses, shared lodgings with fellow women police students, and only managed to have 'near sex' with one of them that she found attractive. All that amounted to was kissing and touching. It was nice of course, but both of them were cautious of just how far to go. Her preferable sex was with men. And Harry was not to be rejected when the opportunity arrived. And giving oral sex was where her sex life began, years ago, as a not so innocent girl. "Ok, you're act is over. So what do you have on me so far? It's clear you are telling me I'm not the man on the CCTV, right?" "The girl? Saskia?" Greta pointed out. "I have something to show you and it isn't nice." She produced a photograph, the same one as he had seen on his mobile phone. He had to pretend he had not seen it before. He winced and turned away. "That is the girl who lived with you here, isn't it?" "Yeah, Saskia. And I had nothing to do with that. We shacked up together for a while. I went out for a pack of cigarettes and got lost." "What do you mean, you got lost? That's not like someone who knows this town inside out. Explain to me how you got lost?" "I got clobbered by a mugger and they kept me in a basement somewhere. No idea where it was. They released me after a few days, bastards. When I returned, this place was stripped down to nothing. Completely clean and empty. Saskia had gone." "Why didn't you report the incident?" Greta asked. Harry lit a cigarette. His lies and part truth to cover what really happened made him feel nervous. "Surely being mugged, locked up and your girl friend going missing were worth reporting?" "The cops don't do anything anyway. You lot are fucking useless." "Well, it would have helped at this stage if you had. Instead, I have to investigate and you are a murder suspect, especially for the missing girl. Someone cleaned up and disposed of her body Harry. Where did you put her?" "What? I didn't murder her. This other guy must have done it or even Hoffman. I had no reason to murder Saskia. Besides, I don't even own a gun and never have. Things can get rough in this town and ok I'm a bit of a rogue as your records will show, but I have never used a weapon. Check it out." "I did. You're right, but it doesn't me you didn't do it." "So how did you get that photograph?" Harry asked. "The person who gave it to you is obviously the murderer. Maybe he's some kind of serial killer. I could be next on his list." "You know Harry, you're clever. And for some reason I believe you." She replied. Harry shrugged and left the conversation at that point. He thought it best to do so while he seemed to atleast have her confidence in his innocence. "So, why did Hoffman give you this place?" "Look, he was a complete stranger. Saskia and I were looking for somewhere better to live. He was on the market one day and we were talking. Out of the blue he said I could have his place, this one, for absolutely nothing. He was like some kind of angel sent from heaven." "And that was it? You never even queried it? You and Saskia just happened to move in and he gave you the deeds of ownership, just like that?" "Yeah, just like that. Never saw him again. Amazing isn't it?" Harry replied. "But you did see him again. The day he was murdered. What did he want?" "Oh yes, that. He just asked how things were." "Look at the date on the photograph Harry. It was taken by a mobile phone camera. Hoffman was murdered a few days later. Saskia died earlier, that is obvious. Can you explain that?" Greta held up the enlarged photograph. It was clear alright. He did not have to think fast on that one. The truth again fitted in with his lies. "Well, I was locked up in the muggers basement wasn't I. I've already told you that." She was trying to catch him out with very little success. "Ok, let's talk about these so called muggers. How much did they take from you? And who were they?" It was already on police records that he had dealings with the O'Grady's. Their missing bodies would surely have been noticed by now. He had to think again. The police might just link him once again if he told her it was their basement. "How about jogging my memory a little?" he asked. Greta looked at him curiously. "Amnesia. Sex is supposed to be good for that so I'm told. And besides, you fancy me like crazy. Nobody is going to know about it. Are they?" "Are you suggesting something?" Greta replied. "Yeah. A good fuck. You are gagging for it. I can tell. And, here I am ready and waiting." Greta found his request very tempting, although it was forbidden and she had already broken procedures earlier with the oral sex. Her human desires to go the whole way with him began to make her feel horny and it was tempting. He was just the kind of man she needed. Was the offer refusable? "You really think you could satisfy me?" she asked, again sending him a teasing glance. "I'm quite a handful you know. I can get very rough. I like to domineer my men." "I did notice. But then again, I fancy you too. And perhaps a bit of domineering might just jog the memory?" The thought of having her began to make him hard. She was after all sexy and there was no problem of standing to attention when she blew his cock, at the same time as refusing more. But then again, that was just an act at the time, part of the cover-up of being Hoffman's daughter. The prospects seemed more open now. Besides, it might help her have more confidence in his innocence, although he had to hide the fact that he was involved as an accessory to Hoffman's murders, apart from Saskia's of course. It was both a gamble and a means of satisfying his and Greta's desires. Helen... Ch. 17 Greta was not the domineering type she said she was. Infact quite the opposite. Harry thrusted into her with long gentle strokes. Greta felt every push deep into her, stimulating those vital parts that made her climax almost instantly. She was a noisy love maker and her moans and constant screams begging him not to stop just made Harry more excited. "Oh fuck, faster, faster, faster" she begged and so Harry obliged. To Greta it was one of the most amazing fucks she had had for a long time. "Fuck babe. You must be desperate." Harry said, almost out of breath, holding back his orgasm as best he could. He stopped and moved down to Greta's sex to lick her gently. Her taste was exquisite, she had cum. Not the gushing type, but the thick creamy cum and lots of it. He concentrated on her clitoris, keeping her orgasm flowing high. And flow it did. He began to taste her love juices and they were plentiful as he reached up to grip her ample breast. Greta screamed out, gripping the bed posts with clenched hands. Greta wanted her orgasm to last forever. It had been so long ago and no toy or wild finger masturbation could achieve the feeling of ecstasy Harry was giving him. His act of oral sex was better than his straight forward fucking. And then better still, he brought his fingers into play as he continued teasing her clitoris with his slick tongue. She began to realise she was right. This handsome brute could deliver what she wanted. Helen of course had her concerns. She wondered how faithful Harry was. Not that it bothered her too much yet, but cumming inside of her at her most fertile period of the month made her worry. Sex without protection and coitus interuptus had failed them both. And Jack could see there was more trouble on her mind. "Every time I return to England you seem so bothered about something." He commented as they began dinner at Jack's favourite restaurant. "Is this playmate Harry giving you trouble? You should never get deeply involved." "And how deeply involved are you Jack, with your playmates? You never talk about them or how many you are fucking while you are away." Her question had a hint of annoyance. It was so right. Jack never revealed anything. "To be honest, I have only one. And he is very faithful to my needs while I'm away." "He? A man?" she queried. "Yes, a young man. Old enough. We have been friends and playmates for a while. He is very effeminate. You are now the only woman in my life that I love. He is nothing but a friend. Just sex. And I get the best of both sexes with him." "What do you mean?" "He is a transsexual. A chick with a dick I think you call them in English?" Jack was so matter of fact about his revelation, as if it was alright to be straight forward, but Helen was deeply shocked. A transsexual was yet another aspect of her lack of understanding. She could now accept his bi-sexual behaviour, but both sexes in one person were a concept she understood, but did not totally accept. She saw them as freaks. "He insists that I call him a she. I don't even know his birth name, just Kristina," Jack explained. "I met her a long time ago. She is so beautiful, but not as beautiful as you." Jack put his hand on Helens hand across the table. She wrenched it away quickly. "I can't believe I'm in love with you." She said. Jack noticed her expression. Maybe he was revealing too much of his private life away, yet it was part of their agreement. Helen had never asked for details until now. "Why are you like this?" "I don't understand? I love you too," Jack replied. "One day we will marry and have children. Live in Paris, or wherever we both decide. Are my sexual preferences so bad?" Helen stood away from the table, throwing her napkin at Jack before walking away. He called her back, but she ignored him, making him dash after her. He took her arm and gently turned her to look into her tearful eyes. "Why are you reacting like this?" he asked. "First I get to know you had shared David and Jayne. And now you tell me you are seeing a woman who is really a man. Jack, what are you? I love the man that I always believed you were. A real man with straight forward manly thoughts. Now I'm discovering who you really are and what you are." "Then what am I Helen Tell me?" "You are not the man I always thought you were. I love you still, but I can't grasp your...your..." "A freak? Go ahead, say it. I am a freak because I am open about sex and allow the freedom to exist between us. Everyone is not the same. Each and every one of us is different in the way we think, act and like and dislike. That should not affect the way that we love each other. Why are you running away Helen? Running away from the truth?" She listened to him. He was right in every sense of the word. Suddenly she realised that Jack was not the person she wanted to settle down with, allowing his ideas of sexual freedom to play a part in her married life with him. The marriage she had in mind was what she saw as normal. Two professional people living together, comfortably raising their children without the abnormalities of one parent being strange in their lifestyle and habits. Besides, he was also too mature and set in his ways. Maybe too old to be an agile parent as their children grow up. She needed someone younger. Her and Jack living together was just a teenage fantasy and now was the time to account for reality. Of course she loved Jack as visa versa. He was the most handsome man she had met already with a kindness and respect for her. Yet was he as good as Harry? Would Harry make the ideal partner she was seeking? He was handsome, but not as beautiful as Jack in looks. That again was something she had placed first above someone like Harry. Or, maybe she needed to wait longer for that certain person she sought? She took a deep breath as Jack waited for an answer. "I'm leaving you Jack." His pallor turned grey instantly with shock. He was not expecting her reply to be so straight and honest. "I'll look for somewhere to live. I'm sorry." "Wait! Wait!" Jack cried out, but it was no good. He could not reply. There was nothing he could say other than defend himself and his lifestyle habits. It was obvious that she rejected them and that was her honest thoughts. If he had hidden his secrets anyway, they would be revealed one day too late. Back at Harry's apartment the wild sex continued. Greta's domineering side emerged as if from nowhere as she rode him cowgirl style. It was clear to Harry that she was hungry for sex. He held her buttocks as she pounded down onto his proud cock, soaking it with her love juices and now making it less tight than when they began. Greta needed it. She was desperate and after seeing his manhood for the first time in her disguised play days ago, she knew it was what she wanted. In her mind it was just right and those passing hours of fantasising were really happening. Her libido was high and she loved every feel and orgasmic climax he provided her with. However, Jack obliged by holding back as long as he could. The sight of her ample firm breasts moving with every thrust and her gorgeous face in ecstatic pleasure was too much. "Get off Greta quick..." he managed to urge in almost a whisper. "I'm going to cum...Now." Greta dismounted and held his manhood in her hand as he released his streams of cum, shooting it all over her breasts. Greta was ecstatic as she began to calm down. Already she was numb with the constant trembling of her multiple orgasms. She lay beside him, catching her breath. "Fuck that was wonderful." Harry managed to comment. "You are one hell of a girl. I've never met anyone who could fuck like that." "I did warn you I was desperate." She turned to snuggle up to him as he began to regain his senses. The unexpected happened. This young cop was certainly after him in two ways and he could only oblige in one. "Did that help you to remember, like you said it would?" Infact, the opposite. Harry knew he had to be cautious of what he said, but at that moment in time he had forgotten the questioning. Has she snuggled up to him he suddenly realised that she had compromised herself. Having sex with him was taboo. He was a witness and suspect and she had made that mistake. Yet there were no witnesses to prove what just happened. His word against hers. She could even say he raped her or something stupid like that. They both shared the shower together as the door chime rang. "I think you have visitors." Harry said, running his fingers through his hair, washing the evidence of sex away. Greta looked surprised, grabbing the bathrobe and warning him to be quiet. She dried her hair quickly as she made her way to the apartment door. Helen was leaning against the outer door frame. The tears had made her mascara run like stripes of black ink down her face. "Yes? Can I help you?" Greta asked. Helen pushed her way past. "I'm looking for Harry. I know he's here. I need to speak to him." She took her purse from her shoulder and threw it onto a vacant armchair. Greta looked at her with astonishment of her intrusion. Helen stared back, arms folded. "Well? Where is he?" "Excuse me, but I don't even know you," Greta replied. "You just entered my home uninvited. I could arrest you for that." "Oh I see. So you must be the gangster's moll he mentioned. Arresting me is a bit out of place don't you think?" Helen replied avidly. "And I suppose you seduced him too?" "What? Hold on miss..." "Where is he? I know he's here, ok?" Harry entered the lounge with a white towel around his waist and his hands raised. "Ok ladies, let's not argue or even go there." Helen noticed right away. The other woman in a bathrobe and Harry still wet wearing a towel. It was obvious they had taken a shower together after some really messy sex. Harry introduced them. "This is Greta by the way. She's not a gangster's moll, she's a cop. And Greta meet Helen, a friend of mine." "A friend?" Helen replied. She was annoyed. "So I'm just your friend? Not lover or playmate anymore?" "Well, all three babe. I was being polite." Helen looked at Greta, now beginning to back off her defensive guard. "And you are a police officer?" Helen pointed. "May I ask something officer?" "Go ahead if you must." Greta replied. "Are you fucking my playmate lover? Be honest." Helen's question was direct and with a bitchy attitude that Harry had never seen before. He scratched his head in frustration, thinking about what was coming next. "No," Greta replied. "We were just..." "Look, if the truth be known, I fucked Greta. I seduced her ok?" Harry explained. "She just needed some loving. It was personal, not professional on Greta's behalf. That is what happened." "So you're the tenant ripping my boyfriend off?" Helen asked. "A police officer, who should know better. Well I think you're about to be evicted soon, so be prepared to find somewhere else, because I'm moving in with him." Helen pointed directly at Harry. "You're what?" He asked, totally surprised. Helens eyes kept their focus on Greta. "When did you decide this? Things are a bit complicated..." "I'm prepared to move out," Greta said. "That's no problem. Infact I can move out right now if you don't mind being kept under house arrest. Your lover boy is a suspect in a murder case." Helen turned to Harry. "Is that true? Are you? Is it because of Hoffman?" "Ah, so you also know of this Hoffman?" Greta asked. "That's interesting because now we are starting to get some answers. Helen, would you care to answer a few questions please?" Harry did not want Greta to know that Helen knew. It was too late. Helen was going to tell the whole thing in detail as he told her. And the truth about him agreeing to kill the O'Grady bunch with Hoffman will most probably land him inside for a stretch. Something that he was trying to avoid again and again no matter what. The three eventually sat down to talk. Greta informed Helen of the situation. That Saskia was most likely murdered in the apartment by a serial killer that was teasing the police with bits of information. And that Hoffman was an unknown person without any official identification. Helen listened intently as Harry watched on nervously, hoping that she would not say anything to compromise him. "Well, all I know is," Helen began to explain. "That this Hoffman fellow, a pretty weird stranger from what I gathered, gave this apartment to Harry and Saskia, including the deeds. Then next I heard that Harry was taken hostage by someone for no reason at all. When he came back to the apartment it was stripped of everything and Saskia was missing. Then of course this stranger, Hoffman was killed by someone soon after." "Umm, that seems to match everything we know so far. The forensics can't prove that Harry did kill Saskia." Greta replied. "But, two things we need to know. Where is Saskia's body and who actually killed Hoffman. Oh and a third thing also." Greta looked at Harry. "Who mugged you and took you hostage?" Helen knew the answer, but she decided to keep that safely in the back of her mind. "I'm going to show you a photograph Helen. It isn't pleasant." Greta handed the enlarged mobile phone picture of Saskia, tied up with a bullet hole in her forehead. Helen cringed. She had seen it before on Harry's phone, but still remained oblivious of the fact. "Can you identify that person?" "No. It's horrid. Who is it?" "It's Saskia. I take it you two never met?" "Harry never introduced me to her. All I know is that she moved in here with him." "Ok, then I'll be honest with both of you," Greta began to explain. "The photograph doesn't give much detail of the location and like I said, forensics can't find anything here in this apartment that point clearly to it being the place of murder. And another thing, Saskia's remains need to be found." "So what are you saying?" Harry asked. Greta thought hard before answering. There were real facts and a personal fear that Harry might mention the sexual event they had. "We can't make a house arrest. I was not being honest about that. Infact, there is very little we can do until more information emerges." Greta looked at them both. "I am moving out. My surveillance can be done elsewhere." She stood up and hung her purse on her shoulder. "If you two think of anything else that might help, please get in touch with me." They both watched her leave quietly and unexpectedly. Harry could not help but take one last glance of Greta's sexy body from behind. When the door closed he gasped a sigh of relief. Helen had surely saved his day. "Thanks babe." He said with relief, but Helen was far from being happy. "So you seduced her did you? Fell for your charms I suppose?" Harry lit a welcoming cigarette to calm himself. "Look, you saw her. You know me babe. How could I resist? She's too fit to be a cop. A fucking waste if you ask me." He began to play for sympathy and she knew him too well. "Thanks anyway. You saved my bacon." "Was she good?" "Eh? You mean the sex?" "Yes, was she as good as she looks?" "Nah, complete disappointment. Made a mess of the bed. Needs sorting out." Helen saw the funnier side of things and in her own mind she was prepared to forgive him, atleast for now. She needed somewhere to stay and the only place would be with Harry in his apartment, even though there was a huge mystery hanging over it thanks to Gerry Hoffman, the contract killer with no identity. And, she needed to more. And she also had to explain why she left Jack, for good. Harry supported her reasons. His angle to the explanation focused more on the risk of AIDs or HIV and he insisted that Helen take tests just in case she was infected. Helen agreed but insisted that Jack was always cautious and would not take chances. Then they discussed Greta and how the situation leads to Harry fucking her. She was impressed by the way Greta had seduced him. The blow job seemed a good idea and she found it totally erotic. What Greta could do, she could match it even better, only more romantically, after all, Harry's cock was something to be admired in its almost perfect masculine anatomy. Helen sat on the couch beside him exchanging passionate kisses as she pulled aside the towel. Already he was semi-hard, and some delicate and gentle stroking brought him to full attention. That shape and form was enough to set her hormones racing. He had insisted there was to be no intercourse, so the only thing to do was play with him, give him something for his hardness and atleast provide them both with pleasure. Helen unzipped her evening dress and let the straps fall down her arms. Harry watched intently as she slipped away her strapless bra, revealing her pert pink nipples already aroused by what was to come next. "I love those breasts," he said, feeling them both with his hand. "You have perfect tits. Smooth, petite and those nipples, just amazingly suckable babe." He moved closer, his tongue sweeping delicately over them in turn. Helen could not help but react to the tingling sensation his actions created. And when he began to suck on them, kiss and caress them, she gave out a moan of satisfaction. She loved the way his tongue swirled around her nipples, leaving a cooling sensation by his saliva that enhanced it even more. Her tongue began to lick the tip of his manhood, detecting the taste of precum that formed from the tiny slit on the glans. Then the feel of his cock head, large and smooth under the head on her tongue was delightful. This made more of his precum appear that tasted exquisite. Sweet and tangy, unlike the full load, that tasted salty. He began to moan with pleasure, head back almost pleading for more. And with obligation she gave him more, slowly taking him into her mouth, the underside of his glans against her tongue first, then the feel of his tight skin, wrinkled with his veins, pulsing with blood and throbbing with pleasure. Eventually she felt his glans touch her throat and gagged, coating the whole length with her throaty saliva. Harry loved to see her lips against his pubic hair. If there was one thing that Helen was good at when giving oral sex was the deep throating and tender sucking, that sent tingling sensations through his whole body. Harry lay back naked as Helen began the slow stroking with her grip, slightly twisting and spreading her saliva as she took him in and out of her mouth repeatedly. She loved that thrusting sensation against her tongue, controlling the amount of sucking to make him moan loader. Watching his reaction, she could tell when he was close to his orgasm. This time she was determined to take him all the way until he came. She did not expect too much cum, as he had already released with Greta. But, then there was the amazing surprise she did not expect. Harry quivered and held his breath, and then he released his salty load of thick creamy man juice down her throat and filling her mouth with more. She gagged a little and then swallowed. Then cleaned him off with her tongue until every last drop was gone, still stroking him and keeping his orgasm high so that he could hardly bear it anymore. Another trick that Helen had almost perfected in her oral sex skills. She had per chance to gain lots of experience, not only from Jack or even Harry. There were others in the past that she had sucked and swallowed, but nobody sweeter than Harry. Afterwards, to derive her own satisfactory pleasure of an orgasmic release and climax, she allowed him to snuggle up and kiss her breasts, neck and lips, tongues playing in passionate embrace as she fingered herself, filling the air with her sexual essence until she slowly came to a slow and easy climax. Harry licked her tasty fingers, cleaning them of their sweet and tangy nectar. This time there was no gush of clear love juice, just the release of her vaginal unguent promoted by the fingering motion against her sensitive inner spot. Atleast it was safe and enjoyable sex, amidst the fear that Harry had about Jack transmitting sexual diseases from his kinky habits. Helen... Ch. 17 Four weeks later the spring had arrived that new year. Helen had taken her STD test and she was clear. During those weeks waiting she had not had sexual intercourse which proved to Harry that atleast she cared. Jack constantly tried to contact her in many ways too, by phone and often driving down the street, stopping to ask her to return to him. Eventually it became far too much hassle and she threatened to call the police and file an injunction order against him. For Jack, that was enough. She also had a positive effect on Harry. Although both short of money at times, she began to smarten him up by buying clothing that he badly needed. Soon his wardrobe selection grew into something with more variety rather than constantly washing the same old garb whenever he got the chance. A luxurious apartment and hardly any money, they soon got used to living that way together. Helen invited lots of friends from university to her twentieth birthday party, celebrated by cans of beer, bottles of cheap wine and a massive joint order from a local Indian restaurant. It was no different from any other student party, only it looked and felt as if it was being held in "Daddies" rich apartment. The walls were sound and heat insulated and there was very little of complaining to do from the neighbours as the varied music from dance to rock played loudly. Of course, there was the odd matching of couples fucking their night into oblivion. That provided eye candy for Harry as he watched the exhibitous students making love on lust and alcohol. He turned to Helen; "Is that what happens at all student parties?" Unable to keep his eyes of a couple naked on the couch, him on top of her, raunching away as if they did not care, with the sound of orgasmic cries almost drowned out by the music. "Some of them, yes." Helen replied laughing. "It's only fun. Lots of parties end up like mini orgies. Sometimes just the odd couple. Anyhow, enjoy it; you're getting a free show. If it was your birthday and I was drunk enough I'd probably treat you to a hand or blow job so everyone can watch." "I see." Harry thought, but not seriously. "Does that mean I can lick you out at this party and give you a five finger shuffle?" "No chance. I'm not an exhibitionist like some of these." She laughed, knowing that Harry was only joking. The following day, the part over, Harry woke up beside Helen in the guest bedroom. She was still sleeping off the booze and he felt a pounding in his head, remnants of alcohol in his system and the noise of all the music with screams and laughter of the party guests. It was hard to remember exactly how it all ended, but the number of people as a figure remained in his memory. He looked up thinking of the number sixty four, realising that was how many guests he had counted. The next thing to hit his senses was the desperation to pee and a dash to the bathroom. His stride was quickly halted as soon as he entered. There was a girl kneeling at the toilet basin where she had fallen asleep after vomiting. Her head was hanging over the seat, and the basin full of the vomit she had disposed of. Atleast the floor was not targeted by anyone. He checked her out, gently easing her against the wall. She was still alive and pitied the headache she would suffer once she eventually woke up. As he peed, he could hear the sound of snoring, getting louder by the second. It was not the girl, but a young man who lay sleeping in the bath tub, grasping a bottle of plonk against his chest. If that was the bathroom, he dreaded what he would find in the rest of the apartment. The lounge was scattered with a few bodies, some half naked, the others totally, all sleeping off the party effect from hours earlier. Empty cans, broken glasses, squashed and intact plastic cups and empty bottles scattered amongst the bodies of the strangers. There were even used condoms amongst the debris that he dare not even think of touching. If only he could remember those final hours of the party, and what he did himself. One thing to be thankful for was he woke up next to the girl he loved. He could smell the aroma of frying bacon coming from the kitchen. His curiosity made him cautiously go and find out. "I've done some of the cleaning up," the girl said, frying up breakfast for whomever. The only thing she wore was a kitchen apron. "I felt a bit hungry so I thought I'd make a bacon sandwich. Would you like one?" she asked. It was the last thing on his mind. Helen... Ch. 18 Helen woke up and discovered that Harry had gone from her side. Things slowly came to mind about the party and she began to recall the last events slowly which explained the smell of stale sex around her and on her naked body. She sat up and held her head in her hands, not just for the hangover but also what had happened, as things got wild and out of control. She brushed back her hair to one side and looked around before getting out of the bed. Harry came back into the bedroom with a tray bearing gifts of bacon sandwiches for both of them. It was not only a gift as such. It was also a peace offering. She found her robe and covered her body as Harry laid the tray carefully on the bed. "Help yourself babe," he told her. All that Helen could do was fold her arms in disgust, not just for herself for letting things get out of control, but also for Harry for letting it happen. "There are still a few people here." He explained, tucking into the greasy sandwich. "That Australian girl made the breakfast for us." That Australian student was the problem. She had manipulated both her and Harry to take part in a threesome, of which Helen began to regret. At the time it seemed fun, something she had not done before and it was different. Harry enjoyed himself too. Having two women making love to him and then watching her and the unknown girl partake in lesbian sex. Helen felt sick. The stench alone began to turn her stomach along with the smell of greasy fried bacon on the sandwiches, which Harry seemed to be enjoying. "Have fun?" she asked, staring directly at him. "I know you did babe. You were lapping it all up... literally and physically. I see you liked the taste of another woman. You surprised me. Didn't think you liked that sort of stuff. I enjoyed it. It was fun, well the bits I could remember that is..." Helen picked up a pillow and threw it hard at Harry before storming out of the room to the bathroom. She found it difficult to do her ablutions with the two unconscious bodies in there, but atleast she tried as long as they remained unaware. Then the Australian student stormed in as Helen sat contemplating on the toilet. "Oh sorry," the girl apologised politely. "I was hoping to take a quick shower before going." She gave Helen an appreciative smile. "You were brilliant by the way." Helen remained unmoved by the unwelcome comment. "No really. You were amazing. I never even had a threesome before." Helen was surprised. That made two of them in the same situation, only the girl seemed very pleased about the first time experience. "You mean you never had another girl before?" Helen asked. "Yeah. It was different. Exactly like my mates said it was like, but in the flesh it was even better, you know what I mean?" She was still wearing the kitchen apron that barely hid her breasts. Helen nodded her reply, both thinking and looking at the student. It was both their first time for a threesome tryst. She wondered who taught who what to do. Or was it Harry? The sexually manipulative lover. Harry walked into the bathroom for a brief moment. He gave the student a quick squeeze around her naked hips. She squealed her delighted reply, much to Helen's disagreement. Helen remained calm. She had no other alternative after what had happened. "We have to get rid of these bodies." He said. Referring to the drunken people scattered around the apartment. "Last time I'm holding a party in here. It's a mess." "Isn't he a cutie?" the student remarked. Helen never really liked the Australian accent and the sound of the girl's voice made her shiver. "I'm really pleased you invited me Helen." She said. It was bound to happen. An open invitation posted on the snack bar wall. A bad idea now, Helen thought. She did not even know most of the people who attended the party. Infact, she never expected to see so many turn up. Helen raised herself onto her feet from the toilet basin. "It was a pleasure I'm sure." She answered the girl and began to wash her hands as the student desperately took her place on the toilet. The student looked at Helen, sighing with relief as she let her bladder contents release noisily. "So, what are you studying at uni?" Helen asked. "Art. I'm in my first year. Originally from Brisbane." "I've never noticed you before. I'm studying psychology." "Oh my God! Did you have the guy who topped himself?" The girl asked. She was obviously making reference to David's suicide, not knowing that the term "have" meant something more than just lectures. "Yes. It was a big shock to everyone I suppose." Helen checked her face in the mirror. A shower was definitely needed, as she felt the dried remains of Harry's cum on her forehead. More of the memories flashed back to her about what actually happened. She and the girl sharing Harry's spunk as he came on both their faces, after taking turns in blowing his manhood. That was after they had given each other oral sex until they both released their juices for tasting in turn, and before Harry himself fucked them both generously. Helen looked at the girl again. "Brisbane?" she asked. The girl replied with an excited nod and smile. "It's a long way to come to study isn't it?" "Yeah, my parents are originally from Coventry. They told me all about England and so I had to come here. I might even stay when I graduate. Australia is so boring." Helen was still wondering who had inspired their sexual activity. Maybe it was a combination of a wild party atmosphere, booze and of course Harry. It did not matter any way. What was done was done, and the girl was not getting another chance. Later, after all the drunken bodies had been kicked out gently back to wherever they had come from, Helen could finally have the shower she desperately needed as Harry cleared the mess around the apartment. She was unaware that the student was still there until she burst into the bathroom, fully clothed, her brown hair tied back into a pony tail. Helen stepped out of the shower and the girl threw her arms around her, hugging her and then kissing her on the lips. "Thanks for a great night Helen. See you around uni." No sooner had she entered, she had dashed off again, dampened from Helen's freshly showered body, which made Helen step back again for another shower, to get rid of the stench of stale and cheap perfume. It was quite obvious the student from Brisbane was happy about what happened. That evening a wall of silence fell between Helen and Harry. Neither of them really knew how to make comments about the situation. It was total avoidance on each other's behalf. Then Harry noticed an article in the newspaper; "Businessman and his sons go missing." He read it carefully and slowly and it mentioned the O'Grady's. Their departure from life was finally noticed. Police were trying to contact friends and relations and atleast Harry felt comfortable with being neither. He decided to keep the article from discussion with Helen. The less said the better things would be. He looked over her shoulder has she prepared the evening meal, taking in the aroma of the spaghetti Bolognese sauce. He could not resist a quick squeeze of her breasts and the quick feel of her posterior. Helen found it intimate, and pleasant as always, but there was still something bothering her. That sharing with the student, his encounter with the law in more ways than one. And poor Saskia. The question was; could Harry be a reliable trusted partner, full stop? Or was he going to be trouble and another lothario like Jack, who was hopefully now well rid of. That however, raised its ugly head a few days later. Somehow Jack had managed to obtain Helen's new phone number. Again and again he would call her pleading for her to rearrange a new relationship and all that she could do was cut off the calls without a reply. As if that was not enough, the Australian student turned up at the university refectory. There were thousands of students and out of the blue one lunch time she appeared at Helen's table. "Hi, may I join you for lunch?" she asked, holding a tray of food and drink. Helen was not the type of person to reject the request of a "passing" acquaintance. Helen was part way through her lunch and it did not take long for the student to catch up. She had a voracious appetite, and then the chatting began. Helen did not even know her name. "You know I've been trying to catch you for weeks..." "Hold on." Helen stopped her. "What do I call you? What is your name? If you have mentioned it before, forgive me for letting it slip my memory." "Oh sorry, my name is Dahlia. Dahlia Andrews." Knowing that made Helen feel a touch closer to her passive "friend". Although she still was not sure if she wanted to be any closer than they had been. "Yeah, I wanted to contact you for weeks. I think you're a cool person and very generous for what happened..." Helen raised her hand politely, not wishing to discuss that generosity "that happened". Harry and she were now over it and there were definitely no wild parties planned again for the future. "I was just wondering. Could I ask a personal question?" Dahlia asked. Helen nodded chewing part of her meal. "Oh good." Dahlia was delighted, although it depended on the question whether or not her delight was going to be sustained by the nature of the question. The passing weeks gave Helen the time to recover and consider some kind of friendship, offering Dahlia help wherever possible. "Can I move in with you and Harry? Only I'm getting kind of kicked out of my lodgings. Some of my mates think I took some of their things. You know, robbed them. And I'm not that kind of person, trust me. So it was a case of lets all vote and the reply was... she has to go." Helen did not expect that request, although again, it had to be an obvious one. "That is kind of cruel without evidence." Helen replied. "Can't you come to some amicable agreement?" "Well that's not all," Dahlia continued. "I gave my best mate's boyfriend a few favours." "Gave? As in did?" "Yes, as in blow jobs." Dahlia replied. Helen began to think. There may have been no real evidence of Dahlia taking peoples personal items. There seemed evidence however that she had stolen somebody's lover's spunkies. "The disaster was..." Dahlia continued. "These guys were both gay." The plot and scenario thickened. What else would Dahlia do or atleast attempt to do? An answer to Dahlia's question could not be decided upon alone. Harry had to be involved and she explained that clearly. The apartment did belong to him, whether it was legal or not. It was their love nest and they had agreed not to share it. Besides, both she and Harry had plans to sell it if possible and find somewhere more convenient. Harry was selling his wares on the market. The day had turned treacherous with more heavy rain which made customers go into hiding. And then the unexpected visit of Greta, the police detective with a high libido and penchant for Harry's manhood graced him at his stall. She stood under her official black umbrella and searched through his stock of DVD's. "Hope you are not selling any dodgy ones?" she asked. "There are lots of paedophiles around and I would hate to charge you with aiding and abetting them." "Look, if you found anything like that in my stock, then I'd offer you my wrists for the cuffs, ok?" "Ummh sounds tempting." "Ok babe, what is it you want with me now? Found evidence of another dead body in my apartment?" "You know what I want." She sent him a wanting gaze backed up by a smile. A quick fuck and away until next time. The once in a while steamy session that had to be strictly unattached to business. Harry was now beyond that. No matter how tempting the offer was on a rainy afternoon. He and Helen had made agreements to stay faithful lovers. "Well?" she asked. To Harry it was still tempting and hard to resist. There were no doubts in his mind that Greta was an amazing lover or to be precise an amazing fuck with no holds barred. She was continuously on heat and ready for action and so was he to be honest. "No chance Greta. Helen and I are strictly one on one lovers these days. Sorry to disappoint you and all that my love. You gave us a chance of a clean start and that is what we are doing." Harry made it quite clear. Greta replied with a resigning look and accepted the situation. She had lots of evidence on him, but could never use it because of her misconduct. Morally, she was pleased that atleast he and Helen were going straight and honest. However, there was something Greta wanted Harry to see. She reached into her bag and produced a DVD in its plastic sleeve. "What's this? One of your private porno movies for my personal pleasure?" Harry asked, taking the disk. Greta laughed finding it highly comical that he should be thinking on those lines. "No. But you might find it quite arousing. Your girl friend certainly likes her sex on the kinky side as I am sure you will see. It's a copy of a home movie we retrieved from the Professor's private collection. Enjoy it or not Harry," Greta smiled and moved on leaving Harry with the mysterious content of a home movie. The Professor, a man he never really knew, yet what he did know was that Helen became somewhat fond of him along with her ex. Harry had just one hour to view the DVD before Helen returned from university. The television set revealed the title, which simply read "Helen Cums!" The picture faded in and there was the whole kinky scene of the old professor forcing Helen into a wild screaming orgasm as she was tied helplessly to a table. He was neither disgusted nor aroused. But it was something he rather not have been shown or told about. The Professor committed suicide for some reason and he convinced himself that Helen was not the cause. He switched off the recorder and ejected the disk. The images he saw were firmly locked into his mind and maybe it was just Greta being cruel. All these things were heading from both their pasts now. There was a new clean slate ahead. A new life and possibly marriage, children and everything else expected of a descent modern couple. He decided to hide away the disk for future disposal. "Hi darling we're home!" The cry made Harry startled as Dahlia dashed into the apartment and flung her arms around him. Helen shrugged her shoulders as Harry looked towards her for a reason. The Australian student had decided to intrude before Helen could stop her. "Thank you for saving my life Harry." Dahlia said excitedly. "I would have starved to death on the streets. Kicked out on my ass and left to the rapists and thieves in the night." Helen could only laugh at the style of endearing Dahlia used. She and Harry had not yet decided on letting Dahlia share the apartment. Harry was clueless, with Dahlia still clinging to him like a vine. "Hold on babe..." Harry pushed the girl gently to arms length. "What the fuck are you talking about?" "It's ok." Helen broke in to explain as she calmly dropped her bag on the table. "She wants to stay with us for a short while until she finds somewhere else. I said you and I will discuss it. But it seems our friend already thinks we have." Harry was personally not opposed to the fact of having two women living within his company. A repeat of what happened last time was definitely not on his mind, although Dahlia's toast was just right. Not many people know how to make perfect toast. He held up his hands and thought a while. Then he looked at the pretty girl student who was full of life, energy, excitement and of course the downside, a nonstop conversationalist. "I agree if Helen does. You keep to the spare bedroom. That is your domain. Is that clear?" "Crystal clear! What about my rent? I can do favours." "Favours?" Harry asked. His mind focused again on the last kind of favours, which Harry did as any normal heterosexual male enjoyed. Again though, there was a move away from those activities. "Yes! I can clean, cook... anything domestic. I have a very strict mother!" "Oh yeah. Sure." Harry felt relieved. Obviously Dahlia did not intend to pay cash for rent. Like most students too far away from home he reasoned, she was probably broke and waiting for her strict mother to send some money. "Well you'd better move in then. Where is your gear?" "That is the problem." Helen said with a grin. "At the moment, she lives in what she wears. Her nice roomies sold everything of hers to pay for things they believe she stole from them. What you see is Dahlia and Dahlia only." "Fuck! You're in a mess babe!" Over the next few days it seemed that Helen had a complete change of heart for Dahlia. Their friendship began to grow and Helen found her antipodean humour satisfying. Although the same age as Helen, Dahlia had a more child-like view on life which made her appear immature, but she knew her study well. The first thing that Helen had to do was find Dahlia a complete wardrobe of suitable clothing from the help of the Oxfam organisation store and anything of Helen's that would fit. Eventually the cheque from Dahlia's parents came through. She offered Helen and Harry some of the money for rent, but they did not need it. Dahlia had now become a part of the household features as well as an apartment roomy. Art being her topic, decorative design was another and she started work on murals of all three copied from photographs and painted on the walls. Helen in the master bedroom with Harry and Dahlia's in her own room, which was now her home. Helen watched Dahlia very carefully for signs of thieving which she was accused of by her old roomies. There was nothing. Infact, she had the greatest respect for both her hosts and obeyed all house rules implicitly. Dahlia's wild sexual nature had not been tamed during that time. There was one evening when Helen and Harry were making love and like a storm, she dashed into their bedroom. "Can I join in?" she asked standing totally naked by their bed. The timing was right or wrong, as Helen was riding an amazing multiple orgasm and Harry, now being cautious, was about to fill his condom full of a mammoth load of his cum. "Jesus! Dahlia! Can you knock on doors?" Harry was annoyed. Helen was too far into her orgasm to realise what exactly was happening. "Look, I heard the noises you two were making. I thought it would be ok to join in." "Not anymore babe." Harry was sympathetic with his answer. However, Helen was coming back to reality with a displeasing mood. "That was a long while ago. A party. One huge fuck off party that made everyone go wild on booze and drugs." "Sorry about that guys." Dahlia apologised. Harry noticed her slim petite body. He suddenly realised he had two fuckable women in his presence and he was still horny. His morals snapped back into order as soon as he realised which of the two women he was supposed to be in love with. Helen lay back on the bed holding her hands on her breasts staring at the ceiling. She had cum and there was the usual evidence on the bed sheet beneath her buttocks. She was annoyed by the intrusion, but far too placated to react or say anything. Later, Helen thought it was time for a chat with Dahlia before their friendship was ruined. They chose the cafe across the road from the market where Harry was working. He was in eyeshot of both of them. "He's great isn't he?" Dahlia said gazing at him being articulate with a customer in the distance. Helen smiled at gazed at her. "You're so lucky to have him Helen. I have to admit to you..." Dahlia looked down into her coffee and thought before continuing. "I like Harry too. And I know it's not going to be possible to share him between us." "Have you shared a man before?" Helen had to ask. There was still so little she knew about her. "Yes. In the flat before I got threw out. I suppose I intruded. I fucked two girlfriends boyfriends regularly until they both found out. They trashed my clothes and kicked me out." The truth was finally revealed. Helen took a deep breath and looked out of the window at Harry, who was oblivious of the conversation. "I'm sorry if I'm upsetting you Helen." Helen... Ch. 18 "No, not at all." She looked straight into Dahlia's eyes and smiled. "Infact, I don't think Harry and I are really working out together." She sat back in her chair and gazed upwards to think. "It's time I really moved on and left him, though I know I'd miss him like crazy." "Helen, what are you saying?" Dahlia was surprised to hear Helen say such things. "You two are a couple. I was only chancing my arm the other night when I burst into your room. That's me. That's those stupid chances I take." "No. I noticed the way he looked at you. He is only trying to convince himself he is in love with me." She looked out towards Harry again. He was teasing a teenager and flirting, not much younger than Helen and Dahlia. Dahlia watched too. "He's a relationship drifter. I'm holding him down. He's not ready to settle yet and..." "And?" "He has problems he is trying to run away from, which I won't go into. Too elaborate and boring. I too have a problematic life and past. I think it's time to move on Dahlia. If you like him, then it's up to you to show him when I'm gone." Helen put her hand onto Dahlia's to atleast reassure her. The next question was going to be obvious. Where was Helen going and when?