Sod's Law Pt. 02

"Yes, I suppose you're right. I've certainly adopted her! So, a happy childhood?"

"Yes, I had a wonderful childhood, and I can only remember being happy. I had two or three really close girl friends from quite an early age, who stuck with me. I still meet them from time to time."

The rest of the meal passed in conversation about our interests, which we were amazed to find coincided on many matters. We both loved music of all sorts, drama and opera.

We liked hiking, telling each other of our favourite hikes; reading and telling each other of our favourite genres. She was into historical romances, and often researched the historical background to the societies she read about, whereas I was into crime and spy novels.

We both were interested in social issues and politics, Helen being much more left wing than me. Plenty to argue about.

I made arrangements to leave my car in the car park, and the restaurant called a taxi for us. Once seated in the vehicle Helen took my hand and held it, her thumb stroking the back of my hand. We shot each other smiles which at the very least said we enjoyed being with each other and I'm sure implied more.

At Helen's house I paid off the taxi, telling Helen I would walk home. At ten o'clock it was still quite light.

We stood opposite each other in the porch gazing at each other and smiling. The feeling was contentment with a hint of lust.

"I'd invite you in," she said, "but the place is even more of a pig-sty than usual with everyone packing to leave."

I risked taking her hand, after all, she'd taken mine in the taxi. "Shall we do this again?" I asked.

"We don't need to do an up-market restaurant every time," she said, smiling into my eyes, "though I'm very grateful we did tonight. We could spend time together doing other things. I'd really like that.

"I'll see you tomorrow anyway 'cos I've not quite finished painting. I'd not realised that gloss paint takes longer to dry properly, so I couldn't finish the walls as early as I'd thought."

"Good, I'll look forward to it."

"So will I!" she said with some feeling, and pulling me to her, kissed me softly and at length. There was no way l was going to end the kiss, and when her tongue sought entrance, I reciprocated.

It clearly gave Helen permission to press herself against me: I felt her breasts and her mound, which provoked an inevitable reaction in me. I knew she could feel my growing keenness, but far from pulling away she ground herself against me, letting forth a little groan.

Eventually, and by now I was fully erect, she pulled away.

"Phew!" she gasped. "I'd better go before I completely lose control and drag you inside."

"The house?" I asked with a grin I hoped was lascivious.

"That as well!" she returned brazenly and then gave me a sultry look from beneath her eyelashes. The girl had no reticence: straight as a die! With potential naughtiness!

"That's almost an offer, and I couldn't possibly refuse, so I'd better go."

"I suppose so. You must know I'm not usually this forward on a first date."

"If that's the case, I can't wait for the second date!"

"Down boy!" she said, looking pointedly at my bulging trousers. "See you tomorrow."

"You talking to me, or him?" I asked with a wicked grin.

"That's for me to know and you to find out - all in good time!"

We kissed again, nibbling at each other.

" 'Good night sweet prince!' " she quoted.

"Hey!" I complained. "You want me dead already?"

She looked surprised then realised.

"Oh hell!" she said. "I see what you mean. Hamlet had just taken poison hadn't he? How about this instead?

" 'Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow!' " she said gazing into my eyes, her hand dramatically on her delicious chest.

"Oh! Romeo and Juliet eh? Now can I remember? - 'Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast.' " I said, glancing down at the swell of said breast, both of them in fact.

"Wow, that's good! How did you remember that?"

"We did it as a school play in my last year. I was Romeo's understudy. Never got to kiss Juliet."

"I think we'll be going to a lot of plays together, and I think you already got to kiss this Juliet!"

"So I did! Good night."

"Good night."

There was another brief kiss, soft on the lips, and I walked away. When I looked back she was still standing on the step gazing after me. I waved, and she raised a hand in response before turning and entering the house.

In spite of my analytical nature which suited my profession as a lawyer, I did not think much at all as I returned home, made my usual cocoa and retired to bed.

What pervaded me was an excited feeling that I had found a woman who was as near perfectly on my wave-length as any I had ever met, along with a grudging admission to myself (never to them) that the women of the house were right. I wanted Helen badly. I fell asleep with a feeling of perfect peace and calm.

I could not permit myself a lie-in that Saturday, for it was my turn to buy the weekly consignment of groceries and household necessities: the 'weekly shop'.

It was an easy if long-winded procedure. There was a master list of necessities with quantities needed for a week. All I had to do was to check how many of each item were still in stock and make appropriate deductions from the master list.

There was also the usual crop of post-it notes requesting basic things not on the list but which would be needed for what people would be cooking in the coming week, and there would always be personal and hygiene items for which the House would be reimbursed.

I did not have any breakfast, since I treated myself to pastries which I would have with coffee when I returned. I did however, consume a mugful of tea while I took the inventory.

I caught a bus to the restaurant and retrieved my car, blessing my foresight in that I had previously packed the crates and bags into which my purchases would go. Then it was on to the large supermarket.

The house was still quiet when I returned, and I unpacked and stowed the provisions for the week, putting the personal items on the kitchen table with appropriate post-it notes identifying the recipients and the cost.

Then I made myself coffee, taking the cafetiere with me on a tray, along with a small jug of milk and a plate containing a cinnamon whirl and a maple and pecan plait.

I felt the real satisfaction of a job well done, and always enjoyed my pastries with coffee in the privacy of my own room on those Saturdays when it was my turn to do the shop for the house.

As I poured the coffee, rain began to fell gently against my window panes, and I was glad that the heavy clouds that had accompanied me on my shopping expedition had chosen that time to release their gifts now I was safely indoors.

I remembered I had not picked up my newspaper from the post room. I went down and retrieved it, sorting the post which had arrived while I was out. Hearing voices and bustle from the kitchen, I did not go in, but returned to my room to luxuriate in reading the paper from cover to cover.

Much of my self-indulgent relaxation, solitude and comfortable satisfaction came from my previous night out. Those emotions warmed me as I reprised my feelings for her as she had showed hers for me. She had impinged on my mind while I had been shopping, now I had time to think. I felt a stirring just thinking about her.

There was something special in what we had, something - a closeness, a connection that I couldn't pin down. We seemed to complete or balance each other. We thought alike and there was real affection allied to a certain growing lust on both our parts. We were completely at ease with each other.

I certainly had never felt that way about any other woman, and I was more than a little surprised at how quickly I knew I wanted her above anyone else. Normally, with feelings like this, I would mitigate them by injecting a dose of realism - it was the newness of it, it would wear off soon enough, and previously, I have to say, it had done.

But this time? I had a conviction it would not wear off. There really was a connection. That was it - some bond or magnetism that had almost been waiting expectantly for us to meet so it could pull us together.

It was certainly there from the moment we first met, when she stood on the step and I thought she was 'ordinary' but still wanted to know her better. Ordinary she certainly was not!

I sighed with satisfaction and picked up the paper. An hour later I had reached the 'home and leisure' section and was attempting the Enigma puzzle, when there was a knock at the door.

On my invitation the door opened and Helen put her head in.

"I overslept," she said with a smile. "I had such a lovely time last night, I wanted to thank you, it was perfect. I'm going to try to finish the walls today. See you later," and she was gone.

By lunchtime there was a distinct odour of paint on the corridor, and I could hear her radio as she worked. I had an idea, went to the kitchen and made sandwiches and a green salad, brewing tea while I did so. Then I brought the food and drink to my room before going to hers and peering in through the doorway.

She was rollering the emulsion paint onto the wall and singing along to the song on the radio.

"I've made some lunch if you want it," I said from the doorway.

She stopped and looked at me.

"Thanks," she said with a grateful smile. "I'll just finish this wall and I'll be with you."

Ten minutes later she arrived, giving a perfunctory knock before entering without invitation. Then she stopped just inside, and closed the door behind her.

"I'm covered in paint splashes," she said. "D'you mind if I take these things off before I mess up your furniture?"

"No, go ahead," I said off-handedly. Did I mind if she stripped off? I ask you!

She did not wait for me to turn away, but as I watched she crossed her arms across her neatly swelling chest and lifted the loose tee shirt off, then pushed down her jeans and stepped out of them. She stood in front of me resplendent in a utilitarian bra and full, obviously ancient granny briefs.

Her face might have been pretty, but her body now revealed was perfectly shaped with its gentle curves, and though her dress the night before had hinted at her assets, now all was revealed, minimally clad, in perfect proportion.

"If I'd known I was going to do a strip-tease," she said, totally unconcerned at her near nudity and my startled but appreciative gaze. "I would have worn something more appropriate underneath."

I had to say something, "I wonder if you'd like a bathrobe?"

"Yes, please," she said. "You never know who might come calling."

So she would remain nakedly revealed with me, but not for anyone else! The intimacy that showed warmed me, and excited me mentally and physically. I could feel a growing pressure in my jeans.

I went to the bathroom and retrieved my bathrobe, going to her and holding it for her to slip her arms into the sleeves and folding it round her in a hug.

She tied the garment round her waist and turned with a fluid movement and kissed me, putting her arms round my neck, then leaning back with a grin to see what effect she'd had, which resulted in pushing her hips against mine.

I hugged her to me, caressing her hair, and kissing her forehead in return.

"Mmm, nice!" she murmured, so we kissed again.

"Lunch?" I suggested at length. She sighed and nodded reluctantly, and we sat at the small table and ate our meal.

"You make good sandwiches," she said gratefully.

"More?" I asked as she finished.

"Thank you but no," she said. "I'd get nothing done this afternoon if I ate more!"

She stood. "Back to work," she said with a shrug.

"You're welcome to use my shower after you finish if you want," I offered.

"Thanks, that would be great. Mine isn't fit to use at the moment. It's full of boxes."

She went to the en suite and returned without the bathrobe. I was entranced by her body as she moved across the floor. She smiled at my gaze, and bent to pick up her tee shirt and her breasts hung loosely in her bra, almost on full view. She donned the shirt and then wriggled her way into the jeans. My excitement began to rise again.

"See you later," she said, grinning knowingly at me as she glanced at my crotch while opening the door to leave the room.

I surprised myself: I should have been embarrassed at being caught ogling her body, but felt at ease. I think it was her knowing grin. "I'll look forward it," I said with an answering grin.

She blew me a kiss, puckering those delicious lips, and was gone.

I took the crockery back to the kitchen with s light heart, washed it and put it away. I was leaving the kitchen when Christian arrived. He saw me and looked worried.

"Hey, man," he said. "I didn't know you were with Helen! I'd not have tried if I'd known. She just told me she was with you."

"No problem, Chris, but I don't understand why everyone is so hung up on Helen. I don't remember anything like this when the other women arrived."

"That's because you weren't interested in them. Hey! Harry and I tried it on with all the new arrivals. We're men! What d'you expect? You just never noticed."

"But you all get on so well-"

"Man, it's nothing serious. Guys and girls, you know, we try, they say not interested, fine. We do it all the time, pubs, clubs, work. Girls expect it. Helen said she was disappointed you didn't make a play for her - she said she made it obvious enough! It's a wonder she didn't take her clothes off in front of you!"

I bit my tongue. I nearly said that was exactly what she had just done. Instead: "We had a good evening last night, so I think we might have a future."

"Yeah, she said that. You really float her boat Davey! What you doin' tonight?"

"She turned you down and now you want to take me out?" I said, affecting amazement. I'd tried the same line with Harry and was delighted it still worked.

"No, you berk! What you doin' with her tonight?"

"Don't know. Wouldn't say if I did!" I grinned wickedly.

"Well make sure it's something! She's expecting."

"Pregnant?" I tried to look aghast, but couldn't hold it.

"You know what I mean!" Christian scolded me. "Everyone here thinks you two are suited. Well, the women do." He rolled his eyes with a grin. "It'd be good to see you happy, bro."

"I wasn't aware of being miserable before!" I said with some surprise.

"No, you weren't, but you were buried in work and nothing else. It was a half life. This could be good for you."

"Thanks Chris. You're a good mate."

"Don't let us men down. Go for it!"

I was laughing as I made for the ballroom and the Wimbledon tennis on TV. I hoped 'You cannot be serious!' McEnroe would be playing. He wasn't, but the matches shown engrossed me, so it was only as I went back to my room as evening came, that Helen's behaviour came to mind.

I was surprised. She was behaving as if we'd been together for weeks or months. I reprised her casual stripping in front of me instead of going to the bathroom for privacy, then her turn to me after I helped her with the bathrobe and the intimate gentle kiss.

There was no inhibition, no concern about near nudity. It was the behaviour of a long married woman with her husband. I wondered if this openness was just for me or whether it her was attitude to lovers in general.

Then her kisses the night before. She was passionate in the extreme, open mouthed and pressing herself against me. It all made me think we needed to talk.

I did not have much of a chance to think about that any more, since she arrived shortly after I did.

"Finished!" she said on entering, with a sigh of relief. "That shower offer still open? As I said, my bathroom isn't habitable."

"Sure," I said. "Towels in the cupboard. You know where the bathrobe is."

I noticed she had a rucksack with her this time, and she went straight into the bathroom without removing any clothing and shut the door.

There was the noise of the shower running, and I did what any male would do in that situation - I imagined what she looked like naked with the water running in rivulets down her body, dripping off the end of her tits, while she lathered her body with sensuous fondling of her beasts and between her legs, and it got me quite excited.

She emerged looking rosy and freshly scrubbed in the bathrobe with a towel wrapped turban-like round her hair in that way women have.

"Have you got a hair drier?" she asked.

I rose and took it from its drawer in the dressing table, plugged it in and handed it to her, than had the privilege of watching her dry her hair, and I do mean it was a privilege! There is something so sensuous watching a woman combing through her wet hair with long sinuous strokes.

She saw me looking and smiled: she knew what she was doing and the effect it had. I smiled back, hopefully showing my appreciation of her loveliness. When she had finished, her hair shone like silk. She stood and returned to the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later in a skinny-rib jumper, sprayed on jeans and bare feet!

She came and plonked herself down on my knee, her arm round my neck. I got a smacking kiss on my cheek and a press of her bra-less chest accompanied by a happy smile.

"So what are we doing tonight?" she asked. "I assume we are spending this evening together? In any case, I have things to say to you, and perhaps you to me."

I couldn't face the rest of the residents, and especially I couldn't face the women, so putting together a meal for the two of us in the kitchen was a non-starter.

"I know we ate out last night-"

"You want to avoid our housemates, don't you?"

The woman was so perceptive where I was concerned!

"Yes. You've no idea how many questions, glances, smirks-"

"Smirks!" she crowed. "I love that!" Then she calmed down. "I want us to talk tonight, peacefully, without distractions. So yes. David, let's eat out again. But cheaply, 'cos I'm paying!" And she cackled. How I loved that woman!

"Fine," I said. "How about the 'Village Tandouri'? They always have empty tables and their curry isn't half bad."

"Brilliant! I love Indian food, even if it's really Pakistani!"

How did she know that? The family who ran the restaurant were tolerant Muslims, in that they served alcohol while never drinking it themselves. I resolved to ask about her knowledge another time.

We left the house and went to her place at her request. She invited me in, but I said I'd stay in the car, though to this day I have no idea why. She shrugged, and got out of the car.

"Won't be long!" she promised and disappeared into the house. Five minutes later she emerged in a summer dress which hinted at her shape and allowed two thirds of her thighs to see the light of day, though the top did not plunge enough to show her cleavage.

She saw me looking. "I want to talk with you tonight, and I want you to keep a clear head - in fact I want you to be able to think with this head," she said, stroking my cheek, "without your little head distracting you as it was with my sweater and jeans." She laughed. Was I so transparent? "So? Dinner?"

"Dinner!" I replied and we drove to the restaurant. She was right about the sweater and jeans though, she was so sexy in them.

We crunched on Poppadums dipped in mango or onions or raita while we devoted ourselves to the immensity of the menu. So many dishes to choose from!

However once the starters and main courses where ordered Helen became serious. I wondered whether to be fearful or not. Was she going to distance herself? Was this the 'let's just be good friends' routine?

That option flashed through my mind at the speed of light. Stupid really, since her words would make everything clear - eventually.