by Ray Gordon
She squeezed her legs together in a vain attempt to conceal her slightly damp underwear, and her free hand lifted protectively towards her breasts, hovered awkwardly, and then lowered again. Arthur nodded agreeably and smiled as he focused on the ripe, smooth flesh filling her straining bra, her cleavage deep and shadowy.
'I don't know why you're so shy,' he said. 'Relax, I'm not going to bite.'
'I'm embarrassed,' she replied honestly. 'Any girl would be embarrassed standing in her underwear before her next-door neighbour.'
'But why be embarrassed?' he quizzed. 'We've known each other for years.'
'It makes no difference how long we've known each other. I'm an eighteen-year-old girl, a young woman, and I find it embarrassing standing here like this in front of you.'
'But I'm not just a neighbour, Emily, am I?' he said. 'We've always got on so well together. We're good friends, aren't we?'
'But I wouldn't stand like this in front of my parents, let alone a male friend.'
'Perhaps we're more than friends,' he suggested, focusing meaningfully on her bra again.
'What do you mean by that?'
'Just what I said,' he stated simply. 'Perhaps we have something other than just a friendship. Perhaps the time has come to...
'Are you still cold?' he suddenly asked, lifting his eyes again to her lovely face.
'No, I'm quite warm now.'
'But you're shivering.'
'A little, yes,' she acknowledged as he poured her a coffee and moved close to hand it to her.
'Here, get that inside you,' he said, remaining close in front of her. 'Then that will become a part of your ongoing education, Emily,' he went on.
'What will?' she asked.
'Fighting your embarrassment,' he qualified. 'You shouldn't be embarrassed about your body. You should be proud of it. You should be pleased that I enjoy looking at you. You have a lovely body, my dear... a really lovely body.'
'Arthur...' she whispered awkwardly, looking into his face, trying to decipher his thoughts, 'you shouldn't be saying that.'
He moved and Emily stiffened. He touched her hand, his fingers lingering on it for long seconds as he held her eyes with his, and then he took the wet dress from it and draped it over one of the kitchen chairs.
'You must learn to deal with your embarrassment, my dear,' he said, his voice a monotone. 'Sit down,' he went on, pulling another chair out from beneath the table for her, then doing the same for himself and sitting facing her.
'Thank you,' she said shyly.
Sipping his steaming coffee he smiled at her. 'You see, it's working already.'
'What is?' she asked.
'You're looking more relaxed already,' he said.
'I don't feel it,' she admitted. 'I feel uncomfortable in my underwear with you so close, with you looking at me.'
'But as I said, Emily, you have a lovely body and you should be proud of it. You have firm, shapely breasts.'
'Arthur, don't.'
'A very inviting cleavage.'
'Inviting?' she gasped, shocked. 'In what way inviting?'
His eyes moved lower. 'A flat stomach.'
'You really shouldn't.'
'Trim hips.'
'Arthur, I...'
His eyes continued their downward journey. 'Toned, slender thighs.'
'I think I'd better be going.'
'Smooth, healthy skin,' he concluded, and looked back up at her face, staring deeply into her wide, clear eyes. 'You certainly have no reason to be embarrassed about anything. And particularly not with me. I'm your friend. I'm on your side, remember?'
'My side?'
'Against your parents.'
'Arthur, I don't like the idea of going against my parents,' she stated. 'I don't want to lie to them. I don't like the idea of that.'
Arthur tutted and shook his head. 'And neither do I, Emily,' he told her. 'I don't believe in lying, you should know that. We'll just be doing a little covering up for you. And I'll be doing the covering, so you don't have to worry your pretty little head about that.' He lifted a finger and tapped the tip of her nose affectionately.
'How are you going to do that?' she asked, concern reflecting in her eyes.
'Well, for example,' he started pensively, 'if you say to me that you want to go out for an evening, I'll ask your parents whether they'd mind if I take you out somewhere. They'd have no problem with that if they thought we were going somewhere worthwhile; a play to help with your studies, something like that. I'll drop you in town, and then while you're enjoying yourself with your friends I will go to the theatre or the cinema. I generally go by myself anyway, so I won't mind that. Then I'll pick you up afterwards, bring you home, and no one will be any the wiser.'
Emily smiled gratefully, but looked uncertain. 'I still feel bad about it,' she admitted.
'Perhaps you'd rather stay at home during the evenings and study, instead of being out having fun with your friends?' he said, squeezing her knee encouragingly.
'I don't know what I want,' she replied, glancing down at the hand on her leg. 'It just doesn't seem right.'
'What doesn't?'
'Any of it,' she answered. 'Any of this.'
'Why not?'
'Well, I shouldn't be sitting here with you, like this, in just my bra and panties.'
'It's all about boosting your confidence, Emily.'
'My confidence doesn't need boosting,' she said, but she realised that his attention and compliments were making her feel a little less shy already, and the more she thought about Arthur helping her, the more she thought it just might work. Yes, it was the right way to go, she decided, relaxing just a little. Arthur looked at her, focused on the tiny white triangle of cotton tapering down between her thighs, and gave her a reassuring smile. He was an older man with greying hair; she was safe in his hands.
'Time is running out,' he reminded her. 'When your parents get back things will have to revert to the way they were - on the face of it, at least. Unfortunately we've wasted valuable time already, but now we understand each other we should be able to make some progress. Unless you trust me, however, unless you put yourself in my hands completely, we'll get nowhere. You either comply absolutely, or we forget it.'
'Comply?' she asked.
'Yes, give yourself completely to my experience and methods,' he qualified. 'Work hard with me and we might just have enough time for me to help you before your parents return.'
Emily thought about what he was saying for a few moments. 'Very well,' she eventually said, somewhat carefully.
'That's my girl,' he said, smiling, and then they sat together in silence for a while, sipping their coffee, looking at each other over the rims of their mugs as they drank.
'I'm sorry,' Emily said softly, placing her empty mug back on the kitchen table.
'Sorry?'
'I shouldn't have behaved so childishly with you before. It's made your job of looking out for me more difficult than it should be. I should be grateful to you, not making your life difficult.'
'Don't apologise,' he smiled, squeezing her knee warmly, his hand inching up her thigh a little. 'If anyone should apologise it's me.'
'You?' she queried. 'Why?'
'Because I came down too hard on you, Emily,' he said. 'I was trying to please your parents when I should have been considering you more all along.'
'So this is a fresh start,' she smiled.
'It is,' he concurred, nodding, making no disguise of eyeing the upper slopes of her breasts swelling enticingly from the cups of her bra, then his eyes crawled down to the white cotton between her thighs, then completely out of the blue his hand caressed along her thigh and he actually pressed his fingers against her there.
They sat in silence, staring at each other, neither of them moving, his fingers wedged between her thighs, pressing against the front of her panties.
'Is that nice?' he eventually asked.
'I... I thought,' she stammered, as he began to massage the soft swell of her se
x lips through her flimsy panties.
'Yes, what did you think?' he coaxed.
'I didn't think this was a sexual thing,' she whispered.
'It's not a sexual thing, Emily,' he countered gently.
'Then why are you...' she didn't want to hurt the man's feelings by implying something improper, buy making inaccurate accusations, 'why are you touching me like that?'
'To gauge your reaction,' he told her. 'I need to see if you really are with me - to see if you mean what you say. I don't want to find I'm wasting more of my time.'
'You're not, Arthur,' she insisted meekly, 'but I'm not sure you should be touching me like that.'
'Then how would you like me to touch you?'
'No, no that's not what I meant.'
'I've known you for years, Emily, haven't I?'
'Yes...' Emily began to feel ashamed for questioning him.
'So you know you can trust me, don't you?'
'Yes... yes I suppose so.' Emily didn't move as Arthur eased his fingers a little deeper between her thighs and stroked the swell of her panties a little more deliberately. 'Arthur, I'm confused,' she confessed as he ran his free hand up her arm to her shoulder, then her cheeks flushed and she gasped sweetly as a fingertip managed to prise just between her sex lips.
'I know you are,' he breathed huskily, his hand starting to move rhythmically between the tightness of her closed thighs. 'That's why I'm doing this for you.'
'What do you mean?' she whispered. 'I... I don't want you to...'
'It's all right, Emily,' he encouraged, and his hand moved slowly down and pressed flat to the upper slope of one warm breast. 'Just trust me.'
Emily's thoughts were spinning, compounded by a nagging feeling that Arthur had touched her intimately before, after she'd drunk that wine. 'But...'
'Don't you trust me?' he pressed. 'After all these years we've been friends, don't you trust me?'
'Yes, yes I do,' she insisted desperately, not wanting to hurt the man's feelings. 'I suppose I'm still embarrassed though.'
'That's one of the things we're overcoming here,' he told her. 'Let's work together on this, Emily. Okay?'
Emily didn't know what to do or say for the best. 'Well, I... I suppose it's all right,' she said quietly.
He smiled and nodded. 'Good girl.'
Closing her eyes and relaxing her tensed thighs just a fraction as she felt his fingers moving more freely against her hidden sex lips, her face flushing, her breasts rising as she breathed deeply, she did her best not to protest. It was humiliating to be touched so blatantly, sitting in her underwear in her neighbour's kitchen, but she trusted Arthur. As he said, they'd known each other for years. If she couldn't relax with him, then she'd never feel relaxed with anyone. Finally letting herself go and trying to clear her mind, she had to admit that the feel of a man's fingers stroking her sex and a hand cupping and caressing her breast was very nice.
A battle began to rage in her tormented mind, and she felt as though she was drowning in confusion. She began to tremble, her secret excitement mounting, finding it difficult to believe she was allowing her next-door neighbour to stroke her sex through her panties and touch her breast through her bra. But, she consoled herself, this was part of her learning curve. As Arthur assured her, this wasn't sexual.
With the man's fingertips moving up and down against her sex, the movement causing his hand to stroke the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, adding to her excitement, she knew her clitoris was stirring. How far would Arthur go? Was this stage of her education nearing completion? She could feel her love juices seeping into the crotch of her panties as he continued to probe with his fingertips against the dampening white cotton. And then she gasped, her moist lips parting slightly, as his hand crept from one breast to the other, and then moved so he could pinch her stiffening nipple through her bra.
'Is that nice?' Arthur asked, rolling the nipple between finger and thumb and squeezing the gentle swell of her vaginal lips.
Emily nodded.
'Good, you're doing very well,' he encouraged. 'And as you're being so good I have a present for you.'
'You have?' Emily murmured. 'What is it?'
'I'm not going to spoil the surprise,' he teased, and suddenly his hands withdrew and he stood up, adding to Emily's bewilderment. She opened her eyes and noticed the slightly distorted front of his trousers, only a foot or two from her flushed face. 'That's enough for now,' he said, and Emily realised she actually felt disappointed that his attentions were over. 'You go home and put on some dry clothes. Then come back here and we'll see what I've got for you. Okay?'
Emily nodded, then stood on rather shaky legs so he could slip his raincoat around her shoulders.
Chapter 12
Emily was aware of feeling excitement as she dried her hair after taking a warming shower. Then she put on some fresh white panties, her white bra and a light blouse and skirt.
She looked pretty, she reflected happily, gazing into her dressing table mirror, then standing and smoothing her skirt against her hips and thighs with her palms. Turning this way and that, she knew she looked good. She also felt good. Arthur's recent attentions seemed to liberate her feelings.
Wondering what the present was as she trotted down the stairs, she realised she'd lost all feelings of anxiety. He was harmless, she thought, leaving the house by the backdoor. Besides, deep down she'd rather enjoyed his intimate touches. Not that she'd admit it to him, she vowed as she walked up his garden path. The feel of his fingers against her sex and his hand on her breasts had been rather nice. But was it right? Deciding to relax and stop dwelling on things, to try and get the best from Arthur's help, she walked into his kitchen and called out.
'In here,' Arthur called back, and she found him in his lounge.
'You look lovely, Emily,' he said admiringly, looking her up and down. 'You're a lovely girl indeed.'
'Thank you,' she said coyly, blushing yet again. 'So, what's this present you've got for me?'
Arthur chuckled. 'Now, now, all in good time,' he chided good-humouredly. 'Would you like a glass of wine first?'
'In the middle of the day?' she giggled. 'Um, I don't think so, no.'
'Of course you would,' he goaded, moving to the sideboard and pouring her a glass. 'I chilled it earlier in readiness for our celebration.'
'Celebration?' she echoed, cocking her head to one side. 'What celebration?'
'All in good time, young lady, all in good time,' he teased again. 'I'm afraid I have a little bad news for you first. Your father rang.'
'Oh?' she said, her stomach sinking. 'What's wrong? Are they all right?'
'Yes, yes they're fine,' he said hastily.
'What's the bad news then?' she asked, accepting the glass of wine.
'He asked me whether you'd been out late at night.'
'And what did you tell him?' she asked anxiously.
'I said no, not at all, that I'd been mistaken when I thought you'd come home at two in the morning. I told him you're being very well behaved and have not been out, that you're spending most of your time studying.'
'Well someone must have said something to him,' she said warily. 'He wouldn't have asked unless someone had said something.'
'At a guess, I'd say he might have spoken to Christine,' he suggested. 'Perhaps she inadvertently let it slip.'
'Christine? No, she wouldn't...' her words tailing off, Emily frowned. 'Why would she do that? How could she do that? She doesn't know the name or number of their hotel.'
'Don't worry, I covered for you, just like I said I would,' he assured her. 'Your father's quite happy now he's talked to me about it. I will say this, though; I wouldn't tell Christine anything, if you know what I mean...' He looked at her meaningfully. 'She might let something else slip, something we definitely wouldn't want your parents knowing about.' He tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially.
'No, we wouldn't,' Emily agreed, thinking she knew what he was alluding to. 'I do wish my phone was work
ing. Have they told you when it'll be fixed?'
'I've been onto the phone company and they're looking into it,' he told her. 'Perhaps, as your phone wasn't working, your father rang Christine. He might have called here when we were out and decided to ring her place to see whether you were there.'
'Yes, yes he must have done,' she agreed, nodding contemplatively. 'I thought Christine had been keeping a bit quiet. She's not been in touch for a while.'
'Now you know why. As I said, it would be best not to say anything to her about anything. We don't want anyone to know I'm helping you, now do we?'
'You've got me worried now,' Emily sighed, finishing her wine.
'I wasn't going to mention this,' he said, lowering his voice a little, 'but if I tell you something will you promise not to say anything to her?'
'What is it?' Emily asked, getting worried again.
'You must promise me.'
'Yes, yes I promise,' she said hurriedly, desperate for him to divulge whatever it was he had to say.
'She's not a good friend,' he stated flatly. 'She phoned me the other day.'
'Why?' the worried girl asked. 'What did she say?'
'She suggested that I make you stay in during the evenings,' he disclosed.
'She did what?' Emily squealed, aghast.
'Can't you guess why?'
'No, I can't.'
'Think about it, Emily. Why would Christine want you out of the way? You dwell on that while I refill your glass.'
Frowning, Emily couldn't think why Christine would do such a thing. But she was now sure the girl had spoken to her father. What was she trying to do? Why try to get her into trouble? Watching Arthur pouring the wine, she couldn't think of one reason why her best friend would want her out of the way. Unless... a terrible thought struck her.
'I take it you've worked it out,' he said, handing her back the refreshed glass.
'Because she's after Jack,' Emily said angrily. 'She wants me out of the way so she can have a free go at chatting up Jack.'