An Unexpected Entry

Summary

Bethan's back from her first term away at uni; freshly-pierced, freshly-tattooed and now, it seems... freshly-bisexual. And what better way to shock everyone back home than showing off her sassy, rebellious, dreadlocked new girlfriend Emily? But when they visit her old school friend Jadie, it's Bethan and Emily who'll get a shock. And Jim might just have something to do with that...

Jim's had his ups and downs in life; a parent at sixteen, an orphan at eighteen and a widower at twenty-four. Now, at thirty-five, he's a proud father, a successful businessman and a trusted neighbour. That last one might not be for much longer, mind. Something to do with his, ahem, unusual relationship with the girl next door.

That would be Jadie. She's heartbreakingly cute, disarmingly funny and fearsomely intelligent. Having grown up with internet access and all that entails, she's also preternaturally knowledgeable – not to mention utterly uninhibited – about sex. In short, she's the nineteen-year-old that every modern man secretly fantasises about. And Jim's been head-over-heels in love with her since that rainy afternoon eight months ago when she 'lost' her house keys and ended up in his bed.

Since they've been together, Jim's come to expect the unexpected. Even so, he didn't expect to find her quite so insatiable when he went round to see her earlier on. He definitely didn't expect Bethan and Emily to turn up and catch them, ah, in flagrante on the kitchen table. And, well, he would never in a million years have expected Jadie to invite the two girls to stay and... watch.

Is Jadie just not thinking straight because she's horny? It wouldn't be the first time. Or is she, once again, two steps ahead of Jim; that ferocious intellect of hers combining with her fierce love for him to take their relationship to places he could never have imagined?

Contents

Introduction: January 17th 2014

Part 1: A Serious Case of Middle-Class-Rebel-Girl

Part 2: Good Girl's Back

Part 3: Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Kitchen

Part 4: Coitus Interrupted

Part 5: Watching the Watchers

Part 6: I Want One Like That, Now

Part 7: That Awkward Moment

Part 8: Is That Even a Thing?

Epilogue

Introduction: January 17th 2014

My name's Jim Baines. But hey, you knew that already, right? What else you already know about me probably depends on whether you've read any of my previous story:

Indecent Descent

. In four episodes, that told the tale of my decline into moral turpitude: my journey from responsible, decent father to morally-bankrupt, teen-deflowering reprobate... with my teenage daughter's best friend playing the starring role.

She still

is

playing a starring role; in the story you're about to read and, well, in my life. I'm not going to go through all the details again of how that ridiculous state of affairs came to be. If you're really that interested, you can track down Episode One online; that pretty much covers how it all started. So, for the purposes of this story, I'll cut it right down to just the key facts. Sure, there'll be things which don't seem to make a lot of sense; probably times when you'll go "Huh?" and other times when you'll just stare at the page incredulously and think, "Oh, for God's sake... you expect me to believe that?"

That won't necessarily be because you're missing any vital information from not having read the previous episodes, though. That'll be more to do with the frankly unbelievable nature of what you'll be reading.

I

don't

expect you to believe it, though. Not any more. God knows I wrote enough of that I-know-you-won't-believe-me-but-I-swear-it's-true monologue stuff in Indecent Descent. Now that I'm back and writing again, a few months later... I'm kind of past all that. I know this stuff happened. The others involved; they know it happened. But well, I think it's better for

you

just to treat this whole story as the fantasy you'll undoubtedly believe it to be. We'll all be happy, then.

But hey, even a fantasy needs some factual details though, right? So, here we go again. Let's do a few of those right now.

You know my name. Well, actually, that's not quite true. Jim Baines? That's not my

real

surname, of course. Some of the other names have been altered, too. I don't want you stalking me, or anyone else involved for that matter. But most of the other factual details? Yeah, they're true. Some minor geographical and biographical adjustments just to keep the more-determined of you off our scent, for sure. But in the main, everything else is fact.

So. I'm now thirty-five years old. I live in Chelmsford with my daughter. I own and run a bespoke engineering business which has done remarkably well in recent times, so I'm actually pretty well-off these days. I'm English. White. Nearly, but not quite, six feet tall. Eleven and a half stone. Blue eyes. Brown hair, and plenty of it; not even a hint of MPB yet.

I'm blessed with a pretty-decent masculine body; I eat well, keep myself fit and stay in trim. This time last year I wouldn't have said that I was a particularly good-looking guy but recent events have persuaded me that I must be, really. So, yeah, maybe I'm cuter than I thought. And I don't

look

like I'm thirty-five, apparently. Whatever thirty-five is, you know,

supposed

to look like to nineteen-year-old girls.

Yeah, nineteen-year-old girls. My daughter, for starters: Kiera. I know, I know; you're doing the maths right now, aren't you? Yes, I really was a father at sixteen. That... well, that doesn't matter now. Like I said, if you really want the details of all this stuff, you can find them elsewhere.

For now, all you need to know is that she's grown up to be a stunning, intelligent, elegant young woman who's currently taking a year out to work and save up some money before she goes off to university later this year. Like any father, I'm fiercely proud of her. She's had some shit to deal with in her life. Recently, that's been mostly of my making.

I said girls, plural, though didn't I? And yes, there have been a few others who've featured in my life in recent times – Kiera's friends, mainly. Some have featured more, ah, heavily than others. Jess, Becky, Madison; they've all had stories which have intertwined with mine. Especially Maddy's little, um, unexpected suggestion last summer; that was a story all of its own. And Bethan, of course; she's going to pop up in the little tale you're about to read, along with her... companion.

But there's one of Kiera's friends in particular who... well, if I said she was now my

fiancée

then that just cuts straight to the chase, doesn't it? Her name's Jadie. She was – still is, incredibly, however hard that might be to believe – Kiera's best friend. She's lived next-door to us since she and Kiera were eight. And, since the rainy April afternoon a few months ago when she unexpectedly ended up in my bed, she and I have maintained a crazily-intense, secretive relationship that's turned my world completely upside-down.

I should perhaps point out that the ending-up-in-bed thing was unexpected to

me

. For her... not so much. You don't need to know about all that, now, though. Like I said, you can read about that elsewhere.

I guess you do need to know that I am still insanely, madly in love with her. So much so, that I proposed to her in November. Yeah. Love. Marriage. Not the sorts of words you expect to read in

this

sort of story are they? But, there they are anyway. For ten years I'd never imagined that I'd ever be married again; never thought that anyone could fill the gaping chasm carved in my heart when Katie – my beautiful wife and mother to Kiera – was taken from me.

But, somehow, Jadie has filled that chasm. She's more than filled it, to be honest. She's...

healed

it. But still... marriage? That does feel kinda weird, given that even now the only other person who even

knows

about our relationship is Kiera. Jadie doesn't wear the engagement ring. Not yet. Her parents – Keith and Sarah – still have no idea that their daughter has been fucking the nice, respectable chap next-door for the last eight months; yes, that same kind, caring man who's looked after their daughter all these years whilst they've been slaving away at their respective careers.

Yeah, I can't say I feel too proud about that level of

betrayal

, either. But, well, love happens, right?

They'll find out soon enough; Jadie's going to tell them. Pretty soon, as it happens. Keith's finally retiring and he and Sarah will be moving house in a couple of weeks, back to his native Scotland. Jadie's staying; moving in with Kiera and me until she goes to uni in the autumn. Keith and Sarah have bought a place somewhere near Inverness, I believe. A long way away. And a

much

safer distance away for Keith to be, once he's discovered the truth about me.

Anyway, Jadie is just... awesome. If you've read Indecent Descent you'll know that. If you haven't, well, I

will

actually take the time to try to explain again here. She's worth it. And, well, I like writing about her anyway.

So, where to start? You need to know what she looks like, right? Don't worry about the other girls; I'll cover them when we get to the proper story. But Jadie's the star of this little adventure and if it really

is

going to be a fantasy for you... I reckon you should find out now, before we start, whether she's your sort of fantasy material. Better that than reading the whole thing only to work out, too late, that she's not really your type.

Don't worry. She's not, like, twenty-stone with a face like a horse or anything. But still. She might not be to your tastes, I guess. Like, if you're gay, for example. Or if there's something

completely fucking wrong

with you...

Here we go, then. This could take a while...

I have no idea where to start, so I'll pick a random attribute. She's not very tall. Pretty short, in fact; only a couple of inches over five feet. And I guess that just accentuates the fact that she could never be described as skinny. Don't get me wrong; she's

not

fat – not by my definition – but, well, if you're a lover of the emaciated catwalk-model look then I suppose you might think she was carrying a little too much weight.

And I guess if that

was

the case, you'd probably also not be too keen on her gorgeous curvy midriff which doesn't quite fulfil the requirements for the

washboard-flat

aesthetic. I doubt you'd like her lovely, shapely thighs which are gloriously smooth, creamy and well-defined but which don't exactly conform to the stick-like ideal. You probably wouldn't be as enamoured as I am with her fabulous, round little bottom which... yeah, yeah, you get the picture. She's not a shapeless clothes-hanger waif.

But, well, to me... her body just seems to be all-in-proportion for her height. She's got curves, sure, but not

too

many and they're in all the right places, if you know what I mean. Especially around the chest area. Okay, I'll just come out and say it; she has the most

epic

tits. Epic as in form and beauty, that is, rather than size. They're not comically massive or cartoonish, yet still big enough on her short frame to be a distraction if you're trying to have a serious conversation with her. They are, it has to be said, utterly defiant of gravity; pretty much perfectly symmetrical and they possess the most incredible, delectable shape I've ever seen. The sort of tits that would mean no sane man could ever tire of her. Even if she

didn't

also happen to be achingly pretty. Which, of course, she is.

In fact, she's beautiful.

I mean there's different kinds of beautiful, of course. Refined; graceful; elegant... you know

that

sort of beautiful, right? That's my daughter, Kiera. But, well, that's not really Jadie. Honestly? I don't think anyone would describe Jadie as

elegant

. She's got way too much...

energy

for that. And if you've ever seen her sitting on a table, legs apart, wearing nothing other than a pyjama top and eating a bacon sandwich – which I have, of course – then you'd know that neither refined nor elegant would be the first words which came to mind.

Sexy

, for sure.

Dirty

? Undoubtedly.

Fucking hawt as hell?

Well, yeah, obviously. I mean, bacon, right? But elegant? Refined? Not really.

I doubt anyone would use the word graceful either; she doesn't have that self-conscious, narcissistic sashay thing going on when she moves and occasionally she'll trip or drop something. It's cute as hell when she does that; she says she's got a clumsy gene. But graceful? Nah.

And you know what? None of that matters. Because Jadie's got her own thing going on when it comes to beautiful. She's got the totally-cute, adorably-bubbly, so-pretty-it-hurts kind of thing going on. It comes from within; it's way more than skin-deep. There's a

warmth

there; a natural, healthy

softness

to her features which you won't find on those harsh, taut, preened magazine-cover models with their coldly-defined cheekbones and oh-so-obvious awareness of their own attractiveness. Jadie's not like that. She's just... unwittingly beautiful.

I guess you'll know if that's your thing or not. It's definitely mine. And having seen how much attention she gets when she's out and about, I think a fair few others would agree. Her face just sort of... captivates people. Her amazing eyes, which are an unusually bright shade of green, have a lot to do with it, I reckon. They're just so playful; insatiably curious, fiercely intelligent and there's a sparkle in them which just hooks you in.

Her smooth, young-looking skin keeps a sort of healthy light tan through the year which adds to that sense of... vitality she carries. Her hair hangs just over her shoulders if left to its own, straight devices, but she's always doing it up in a myriad of ever-changing styles, just to keep me guessing. She has naturally neat, dark eyebrows; a delightful little button nose and, in the summertime, she gets a scattering of tiny dark freckles across her cheeks and nose which are just adorable. She's got tidy shell-like ears and an impossibly cute mouth with natural, full lips; there's a perfect set of little white teeth behind them, too. Be assured, American friends, there are no English dental disasters here.

And wow, is that mouth expressive! She possesses the biggest repertoire of smiles I've ever known. There's one in particular she does where her entire face just lights up and my heart stops. Every. Single. Time.

Seriously, she is just...

so

pretty. So,

so

pretty.

It's not all about looks, though. Honestly, it's not. Okay, yeah; if she

was

twenty stone with a face like a horse then maybe I'd not be quite so keen on the whole touchy-feely thing. But Jadie would still be one awesome girl.

She's funny, for starters; she's got an unusually crude, juvenile sense of humour. She likes word-play too; we've bantered about together ever since she was a kid, and her vocabulary can make it sound like she's ten years older than she really is. There is one word which seems to be missing from that vocabulary, mind: Inhibition. Probably something to do with all that porn she used to watch, growing up.

She's clever, too. More than that, actually. She's ridiculously intelligent; picking up a whole string of A's and A-stars from her GCSEs and, more recently, her A-Levels. Next summer, she's off to California, having won a place on an undergraduate programme at one of the most prestigious universities in the world. So, yeah, she might

look

a bit like your typical dumb Essex-girl (although not so much these days, now the fake tan's faded and her hair's not dyed blonde any more) but as soon as she opens her mouth it's obvious that she's got

way

more going on in her head than spray-tans and nail-painting.

Science is her thing – it always has been – and she's forever reading articles and journals and high-powered academic stuff that's well beyond my comprehension. She remembers it all, too; she's got this borderline-savant memory which used to annoy the hell out of Kiera when they revised together. Her trade-off is the clumsy thing. Sports... well, they don't suit her too well. Apart from the bedroom-based ones, of course.

Despite being a science geek, she's also one of the most caring, loving people I've ever known. Sorry. That was unfair. I know, I know... lab techs have feelings, too, right? Okay,

as well as

being a scientist, she's incredible warm and compassionate. The way she...

nurtured

Kiera when they were younger; taking her under her wing and somehow fixing my daughter when I thought her mother's death had left her irreparably broken... that was pretty amazing. Jadie did that purely through love, devotion and an insatiable desire to

understand

Kiera, so she could help her get better. I loved her for that, already; long before we ever started sharing a bed.

I tell you, it's so fucking weird, having known her for all that time as a child and a teenager growing up, to have ended up... in a relationship with her now. Okay, yes, we did have an unusual affinity even before we got together properly. With her dad away all the time and her mother working all hours, Jadie spent more time round my house with Kiera and me than she did with her own family. I was her best friend's dad but, yeah, I kind of saw her as part of our family too. We were close.

And obviously, having said that, I am duty-bound to point out that nothing, you know,

happened

between us until she was eighteen and – this is the important bit – I couldn't have been more surprised when it did. Really. We hadn't been

that

kind of close. I never

planned

for this to happen. Honestly, that's the truth... your Honour. But, well, I won't dwell on that anyway. You'll either believe me or you won't. I've covered it well enough, elsewhere.

So, yeah, that's Jadie. Sorry. I got a bit carried away there, didn't I? That was probably way too much detail. Short, cute, funny, caring, clever, big tits... that would probably have been enough for you, right? But at least...well, at least you might have some idea now of just how completely in love with her I really am.

And, I guess, that probably covers everything that you need to know before I begin properly with my account of this next little adventure. It

is

a love story, I'm afraid. A ridiculously-unlikely, somewhat-depraved, filthily-explicit and inappropriately-lurid love story, yeah. But still, in the end a love story. There are...

shudder

... emotions involved. Just, like, so as you know in advance.

Anyway, boys and girls. Oops, sorry,

ladies and gentlemen.

At least, I hope that's the case as this is most definitely

not

a tale for boys and girls. Don't say I didn't warn you. But now, with that all done, I think we might just be ready to get on with the show at last. A show that consists of a detailed account of the events which took place, in a quiet corner of Chelmsford, on Thursday 19th December, 2013.

All sitting comfortably? Trousers adjusted, yes? Good. Then I shall begin...

Part 1: A Serious Case of Middle-Class-Rebel-Girl

A voice called through from the kitchen.

"Dad, I thought you'd

been

to Morrisons?"

Morrisons was the supermarket just a few streets away from where we lived. And I

had

been. In fact, I'd not long got back.

"Uh, yeah. I have, Kiera. I went this morning. Which you'd know if you'd actually managed to get out of bed at a reasonable hour."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm practising for student life. Deal with it," she called back. "So where's the milk that you would definitely

not

have forgotten to get, then, if you'd really done the shopping?"