Helen meets Marianne
Marianne had fulfilled my requirement and only sent me a message on Friday. To be more accurate, on Friday... at 1 a.m., asking to speak to me, "please," "urgently."
I texted her back during my coffee break the following morning:
"I have a super busy day. It'll only be possible by the end of the afternoon, around six. I will walk the dog along the river, near the south jetty of the marina."
"I'll be there," she wrote back.
And there she was, in a beige anorak, her head inside the hood and the face framed by the fur hedge.
My heart jumped. *She's so pretty!*
As soon as she saw me she started walking in my direction and jumped on my neck to kiss me.
"It's too cold and damp to stand still," I said, and I kept walking.
It was already night, and there were few people. We walked silent for a minute, and then Marianne said without a single pause: "Sorry. I didn't know. Believe me, please. Please! It was a perfume my friend gave me on my birthday. Only when you told me that I went to check. In fact, it had pheromones. I already threw it away."
The way she said it, and the body language showed that she was telling the truth.
"I believe you," I replied, putting an arm on her shoulder. She shuddered, which was a sign that she had been in great tension.
"I didn't even know exactly what pheromones are. When you turned off last Saturday, I had to go search on the Internet," she added in a very low voice.
She seemed so fragile at that moment. We went back and I took her near the car. She hugged me very hard and I returned the hug. We kissed long.
"Tomorrow at ten, don't be late and don't forget the math book and notebook," I said.
She went to the car. I stood by a street lamp with the phone in my hand, and sent her my address. She still hadn't start the car when my message got to her phone.
Marianne opened the message, looked at where I was and, smiling, waved goodbye.
Friday night was the "night of home and Helen" - or at least that's how I thought of it.
Helen had been my housekeeper for four years back then. It had been a complicated story, but, as an author I like writes, "everything is worth it if the soul is not small."
Four years earlier, tired of hiring cleaning services to keep the old family home in a decent state, I had put a job ad to hire a housekeeper. It was when I met Helen and her story.
Helen was married to a guy who lived on businesses little (or nothing) legal. The couple had a little daughter. Meanwhile the man had left Helen, to go live with another woman.
Helen had open a divorce case, but she had no money and the man didn't want to divorce, and started threatening her and chasing her. Worse, as Helen had no job or income, she ended up accepting that he could keep their daughter at his and his mistress's house.
When she answered to my ad, Helen was a woman in panic. She told me how much she needed the job, but warned me that if I accepted her the most likely would be that the jealous (still) husband would threaten me too. I hired her.
Turns out I have a good friend who's a police inspector. I contacted him and briefly explained him the situation. Suddenly, he became very interested when he heard Helen's husband's name. He told me that he had been able to frame the man twice, but he had always managed to escape with false alibis.
My friend told me that if I could get some evidence, or at least some good information about the man's activities, he'd be right on his back.
The next day I made my lawyer aware of all this, and hired the services of a private detective's agency he advised me.
One week later I was warned by the private detectives that the man was surrounding my house. I contacted my inspector friend again and he managed, I don't know how and in just two days, that an officer in uniform was placed at my door.
The man disappeared, and about a month later the detective's agency handed me a detailed report, with photographs and other material evidences, which linked the man to various illegal activities.
I asked my lawyer, my friend inspector and the head of the detective's agency to have a meeting with me at my house. I introduced them and explained how I'd like the subject to be dealt with.
Heading mainly to the inspector, I said: "This report, which resulted from the investigation work of the detective's agency here represented by its head, contains several incriminating evidences of Helen's husband's illegal activities. It would probably be easy for the police inspector here present to frame the man.
However, this may not be the best way to deal with the matter in order to ensure the long-term security of Helen and my own.
Everything in the report are small crimes. If the man gets arrested and has a good lawyer, the maximum penalty he'll probably get will be a prison sentence of one or two years. Worse, he'll get out of prison with more prestige among his peers, and with new potentially more dangerous contacts.
But if the inspector starts arresting the man's contacts one by one, they will quickly realize that the common link is him. Then they won't want to do more business with him, and they'll even ostracize him.
That's exactly what we need. The inspector will have the report with him, and will only arrest the man in case something happens to Helen or me.
What do you think, gentlemen?"
The detective immediately said: "Sounds pretty logical."
The inspector hesitated a little before saying: "It might work."
Finally, the lawyer said: "So, we agree?"
Now, mainly addressing the detective and the lawyer, I continued: "But, as you surely have already realized, in order to obtain favorable results for Helen I will have to confront the man with some of the evidences on the report. And for that I will need the help of all of you.
The detective's agency will arrange for someone to convince the man that it is in his interest to come to my house and talk to me. And, the day the man will come here, two strong and experienced men will meet him at the door, to disarm him and lead him directly to my office.
The attorney will prepare, please, the documents the man will sign for granting the divorce and for the delivery of the daughter to Helen's family.
In the safekeeping document for the daughter it will be noted that the father can, if he desires, see his daughter one Sunday per month, always in public places and accompanied by the mother. What does not need to be in the document is that on these days Helen will always have close two discreet bodyguards.
The inspector will do me the favor of being by the door that gives direct access from the library to my office, which will be open enough so that he can hear the whole conversation with the man. Alea jacta est."
Fortunately, everything went about as planned.
When Helen realized that she would finally have her divorce and her daughter back, she fell on her knees and wept in gratitude.
Helen was then a twenty-seven-year-old woman. She is almost as tall as me (about 5.8 feet). Slender, muscular, firm body, it has a remarkable physical appearance. She is the daughter of a couple of Azerbaijani immigrants. She has light green eyes, brunette skin and dark hair. She could easily have been a photographic model.
She is extremely competent in her work and has an almost canine adoration for me, but she feels good in her role as housekeeper. In fact, I think she'll never want to get married again.
It is not surprising that a relationship of intimacy and trust was easily established between us.
After what happened she got a big lack of self-esteem. Every time a weekend approached, and she had to pick up her daughter at her parents' house, she got very nervous and insecure. Especially on the weekend she was to meet her ex-husband and his lover. That's why I instituted Friday as "Helen's day."
That Friday in particular, after I quit Marianne in the parking lot, I came home and went to feed the dog. I went back inside to the dining room where the table was already set.
I sat down, and soon after Helen showed up to serve me. As it was Friday, she wore her French maid uniform. She served me with all the requests and I, as usual, pretended that I was not full of desire for her.
After she brought the main dish to the table, I - as usual - invited her to sit with me and eat. We ate quietly, anticipating what would follow.
When we finished eating, I moved the chair a little away from the table and asked, looking at Helen with a smile: "No dessert?"
"A man of your age should not eat too much on the evening meal," she replied trying to disguise the laugh.
"But I want dessert... despite my age," I said blinking my eye.
"There's only milk... Um... evaporated", she replied.
"I accept."
Helen stood up serenely and came to seat on my lap, facing me. She unbuttoned the top buttons on her shirt and released the magnificent breasts right on my face.
I slowly rounded her already hard nipples with my tongue, getting a small moan. Then I licked her tits from the bottom up before I put her nipples in my mouth, one at a time, and sucked. I got a bigger moan.
Helen was able to put her hand in my crotch and realized that my penis, completely erect, was along the leg of my pants.
"Do you want me to suck you now?" she asked.
"It's too early. You'll only have your milk dessert before you go to bed" I replied.
She laughed loud, something she did very rarely.
"Yes, please."
I gave her one last strong suck on the nipples and pushed her out of my lap to get her up. I told her: "Go dress something comfortable while I clean the table.
Next we will see a movie, a romantic classic that someone mentioned today in university and I don't remember having watched before."
