Jane Living and Loving

It was 1987 and about 7.00 AM on a warm summers Saturday morning. The phone rang in my new apartment on Sydney's northern beaches and my moving man announced to me that his helper had gotten drunk the night before and would not be able to work this morning. He couldn't find anyone to help at short notice and did I know anyone who could work then.

My mind twirled. I was 27 years old and, three days ago, I had walked out on my husband of five years.

I put the phone down after telling him to bring my furniture around anyway and that I would think of something. I sat there thinking for a moment. A thought jumped in, the surf club! At this time of the morning there were sure to be plenty of surf lifesavers still hanging around there after their regular morning training swims. I often saw them training when I went for a morning swim myself on hot days.

I rang the club and the club manager, Ian, answered. I identified myself and he immediately offered his condolences.

"I'm sorry to hear about you and Colin, Jane." he said, "He was in last night and told me you two had separated."

"I'm glad you are sorry, Ian," I replied, "Because I'm not. But thanks anyway."

I told Ian my problem and that I would pay well for a day's work unloading my furniture. He said that he would surely be able to find a couple of young fellows to help me out. He hung up then but called me back within five minutes and told me that two young guys were on their way around to my apartment now. I thanked him and hung up.

As I waited for the furniture van and the surf lifesavers to arrive I thought briefly on how I had gotten to this situation.

In 1981 I had finished three years of training at a teachers training college in Brisbane. I was to teach commercial courses in high school, typing, bookkeeping and the like. However, a look at what a first year commercial teacher's pay was like and a couple of bad experiences as a trainee teacher during my final year of training had convinced me to forget about being a teacher and find something more interesting and rewarding to do.

I looked around at all sorts of jobs and had lots of interviews but no-one was really interested in employing a 21 year old in anything but receptionist or junior typists jobs. That pay was worse than a first year teacher's.

But then a friend of my Aunty Cathy's found me a job as a junior bookkeeper at a chain of suburban real estate agencies. The money was better and I would have a chance to get promotions if I was good enough.

I enjoyed the job well enough although it could get a bit boring at times. I was responsible for making all the daily credit and debit entries into the right ledgers and making up the banking each day. Then I would pass it all on to the Head Bookkeeper who would check it all over before signing it all off and doing the actual banking at the end of every week.

Three months into the job, everything changed in a huge way. The Head Bookkeeper and the General Manager's secretary took off with the previous week's takings from all the agencies. The police fraud squad were called in and they found that he had also been milking the company for years and that the books were generally in a hell of a mess.

The company needed a new Head Bookkeeper and advertised for one immediately. The ad ran for a couple of weeks but no suitable applicants had applied. Good bookkeepers, it seemed, were hard to find.

With all the confidence of a 21 year old, I approached the General Manager and asked if I could apply for the job. He laughed and told that I was too inexperienced. I stood my ground and told him that I understood the system of bookkeeping the company was using well enough and all I needed was a chance.

Finally, in desperation I think, the General Manager decided to give me three months probation in the job to see how I would go. I was made acting Head Bookkeeper although I didn't get the Head Bookkeeper's salary then.

It was very hard work. I had two major jobs. I had to complete a full forensic check of the companies ledgers in conjunction with the police fraud squad to find out exactly how much had been swindled away. And I had to add to that the ongoing business of the company and have all the books at the company accountants on time at the end of the financial year. I worked until midnight on most nights and was in the office at six every morning. On the weekends, I would take the books home to Aunty Cathy's house and keep at them.

Did I succeed at my jobs? You better believe I did. Four weeks after starting, I presented my forensic report to the General Manager. He was stunned. The police had told him it would probably take six months to carry it out. They were damned impressed too. My report helped convict the Head Bookkeeper when they caught him and the secretary in Cairns.

And my end-of-year financial report was at the accountant's office two days after the 1st of July. When their audit report came back, it commended me on my accuracy and bookkeeping skills as well as my neatness.

I was promoted to Head Bookkeeper immediately after that with a huge increase in my salary.

A week after I was promoted, Colin Leeming came storming into my life like a knight on a white charger, if you will forgive the cliché. Colin's family owned a national real estate chain based in Sydney and were going to buy our company. Colin walked into my office to look over my ledgers and I fell instantly in love.

I won't bore you with the details but Colin was as smitten with me as I was with him. To coin another cliché, he bought the company and stole my heart. He romanced me relentlessly and we were married early in 1982.

I had promised my mother when I was 18 that I would stay a virgin until I was married. I had gone out with quite few boys since then, and although it was sometimes very difficult to resist the intense feelings within me, I had succeeded in remaining virginal in body if not in mind. I knew from an early age that I was a very sexual person with powerful urges that took all my mental strength to deny.

I almost kept my promise to Mum. Three weeks before we were to be married and one week after my 22nd birthday, in a Sydney hotel room, I gave Colin my virginity. Despite what my mother and many of my friends had said, the loss of my virginity was neither messy nor painful. Instead it released in me a frighteningly powerful emotion, a deep desire for sexual fulfilment that has never abated to this day.

After a beautiful wedding on my parent's farm in Queensland and a dream honeymoon in Europe, Colin and I moved into a new house overlooking Pittwater north of Sydney. Colin's father wanted to retire and handed the business over to Colin to run. I became the Head Bookkeeper for the New South Wales state franchise, a huge job for one so young but Colin had great faith in me after my successes in Brisbane.

Colin was 15 years older than me. He had never been married before and had somewhat of a reputation as a playboy. Many of his friends were surprised that he had gotten married at all and thought of me as a trophy wife. I did my best to rid them all of this notion and, in short time, I had succeeded. I have a strong personality and soon they knew that I had a mind of my own and that I was never afraid to voice my opinions. All of them came to realise that Colin and I were equals in our marriage and that to upset one was surely bring down the wrath of the other.

Sexually, I was in heaven. Colin was a gentle and attentive lover and I responded in such a manner as to leave him in awe. In fact I can say without doubt that Colin was the best male lover that I have ever had. Our lovemaking was always intense and passionate. Colin brought out in me all the hidden pieces of my sexual being that lived deep inside of me. I was still playing competitive hockey and tennis and would swim most days at the beach in summer and in an indoor heated pool during winter. Colin adored my fit, firm and trim body and would spend hours exploring it, driving me to ever new heights of fulfilment.

In turn, I reciprocated in kind. Colin kept himself in good shape running daily and sailing a skiff on the Harbour or on Pittwater every weekend. I loved to learn every hill and valley, every crest and crevice of Colin's body and I was always overjoyed to see him in his peaks of ecstasy.

After three years of marriage we decided that it was time to start a family. Colin was an only child and dearly wanted a son to keep his family line going. I was as keen as any young woman to have children of our own. I had been on the pill since just before our wedding so I simply stopped taking it one day and waited.

And waited and waited. After twelve months of no pill, there was still no sign of a pregnancy. We were still fucking like rabbits, four or five times a week like when we were first married. But nothing else was happening.

Then one day Colin came home and handed me a medical report. He had thought that perhaps there was something wrong with him and had been to see his doctor. The doctor had sent him to a specialist who conducted a sperm count. Colin's sperm count was completely normal.

So I went off to visit my doctor who referred me to a gynaecologist. He sent me for an ultrasound and some other tests and I returned to him the following day. The result was my worst fear; I had a form of ovarian cancer which had spread to my uterus. I was taken to hospital that very day and underwent a complete hysterectomy.

The hysterectomy was successful and I did not require any further treatment such as chemotherapy. So physically I was alright but my mind was very disturbed. For any woman to have such radical surgery while still in her prime, her childbearing prime, is a terrible thing and I suffered much depression.

Initially Colin was very supportive of me. We still made love nearly every day but there was something indefinable and distant about Colin. Then as my depression started to lift and I felt that I was getting my life back to normal again, Colin started to change.

By this time, Colin was running the national franchise and I was not only the Head Bookkeeper but I was running a small real estate rental agency on the north side of Sydney myself. I had purchased it several years before with my own money and it was also very successful specialising in rental properties only.

So Colin and I did not see a lot of each other at work, usually a good thing since we did not become bored with each other.

One day, one of the girls in the accounts section came to me and asked to speak to me privately. She told me that she had been hearing rumours that Colin was having an affair with a young receptionist in one of the local agencies.

I was horrified! I had not never ever suspected that Colin was being unfaithful to me nor had I ever even though that he had it in him to do so. I had been utterly faithful to him. There was no way then that I would even consider wandering from our marriage bed. There was only one thing for it.

I drove over to Colin's office. He was very surprised to see me as I rarely ever needed to go there. I closed the door behind me and then confronted him outright with the girl's allegations. Colin went pale and, for the first time since I had known him, he was speechless.

He couldn't look me in the eye and I knew then the terrible truth. I stormed out of his office and went home and threw myself on my bed and wept.

When he came home that night he was drunk. I confronted him again and now he began to get loud and abusive. He started shouting at me that I was a barren thing and that I was fucking useless to him. He said that at least the receptionist would probably be able to bear him a child. I slammed the bedroom door on him and refused to let him in.

That had finished the love between us. We stayed married and living together in our home in separate room for another twelve months but it was, by then, a loveless marriage. Colin often stayed out all night, no doubt with his receptionist. Some of my girlfriends urged me to take a lover myself to pay him back but I resisted. I was still living in a bit of a fantasy world where I dreamt that everything would get back to normal again.

Then Colin came home one night to announce that his receptionist was pregnant and that he wanted a divorce so that he could marry her. I snapped back into reality and walked out of the door of that house vowing to do everything in my power to make him pay for his deceit and unfaithfulness.

Shortly after Colin and I had married my father and mother decided to retire from their farm. It was a big farm and my brothers wanted to take it over. My parents agreed to sell it to them but one of the conditions was that they pay me out the value of my future inheritance.

The result of this was that I received a very tidy lump sum and a healthy injection into my bank account every month for the next ten years. Colin had wanted me to invest this money in the real estate company but I decided not to. Instead I had purchased my own rental agency and several properties of my own around Sydney, rental properties that would give me a good income.

My investments had paid fruit and one of the properties I owned was a lovely two bedroom apartment on the top floor of a block of eight in Manly that just happened to be vacant. In fact I also owned five of the other apartments in the block. I decided to move there until i decided what I was going to do with the rest of my life. It had a lovely view of the ocean front at Manly Beach and my previous tenant told me that if I stood on the toilet seat and looked out the bathroom window I could nearly see Sydney Harbour. Hmmm...

And so today was moving day. The security bell rang and I looked at the monitor to see my furniture man waiting there. I buzzed him in and as I did, I heard a loud hotted up car roar up my street and come to a stop outside. Sure enough moments later the security bell rang again. It was the guys from the surf club and again I buzzed them in.

The furniture man was old Tom; I had used him many times before to help my tenants move. I told him what I wanted and where and he left to go back down to his van to start the move.

My hired help from the surf club were waiting in my kitchen. They were Peter and Brad, a couple of lads that I had seen on many occasions at the club. They were built like most lifesavers; they had swum in the surf every day, rain, hail or shine, since they were six years of age. Both had powerfully developed shoulders, flat stomachs and tight butts. Their legs were bundles of finely formed muscles from years of running in the sand. It was enough to melt the heart if nothing else of any woman.

I knew Peter's parents and I knew from them that he was 20 years old and I also knew that his cousin, Brad was only a year younger. Both boys had long shoulder length hair, still wet from training. Peter's was dark and wavy; Brad's bleached blonde from the sun and curly. They were both wearing board shorts and tank tops. Peter, I knew, was an apprentice with a local builder and also did some modelling for a surf wear company. Brad was on the dole.

I was wearing shorts and a tee shirt with no bra. My black hair was tied back in a ponytail. I could feel the boy's eyes running up and down me as we spoke. In short time I felt I had been stripped naked and inspected closely from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. I knew that I looked pretty good dressed like that and the approval in their eyes was apparent. The feeling that approval left in me sent a tingle through me.

I spoke to both of them and told them that I wanted them to mainly help old Tom get everything up into the apartment. However I said that I also needed help to assemble my bed and my couch and that I would pay them more if they could help me with that. They agreed to all and I sent them off to start with Tom.

By midday, all the furniture was in the house and old Tom left then. The boys and I had a quick lunch from a deli nearby then we got back to putting everything together.

Both boys were good workers and things soon were going together very quickly. They both were very funny and their banter with each other and with me soon had me laughing and my cares about leaving my husband were fading rapidly away. Besides they were both built and I couldn't help but be a little turned on by their shows of strength as they moved things around. I love muscles on a guy.

By evening we were finished. I was very happy with their week so I paid them $250 each, cheap labour I thought. Then as an afterthought I asked them if I could treat them to dinner. They both agreed but said they wanted go and shower first. I wanted a shower too so we arranged for them to pick up a couple of pizzas and some beer and wine.

The boys left and I slipped into a shower. I was filthy from the days work and the shower was long and invigorating. I spent some time brushing my hair and put on a little make up. Then I dressed in a short turquoise skirt and a black halter top with only two strings at the back. The top had a deep neckline and it barely covered my nipples. It showed off my bare midriff and my flat belly looked good. It was a little raunchy, I knew, to be wearing when entertaining a couple of young men but I was feeling good and I didn't mind giving them a bit of a show after their work today. They deserved it. I dabbed a little perfume behind my ears and between my breasts.

I opened a bottle of chardonnay and poured myself a glass before going out onto my balcony. I sat on the recliner lounge sipping my wine looking out at the lights and waited for the boys to return.

The boys arrived back, all laughter and jokes, with the pizzas and drinks. They were both dressed in the standard surfies after dark wear, board shorts again but this time with clean tee shirts. They had deck shoes on their feet and both had washed and brushed their hair.

They both stopped and stared when they saw me dressed that way. Peter gave a low whistle and I smiled widely and gave them a quick pirouette to show them all sides.

Peter caught his breath first, "Wow Mrs Leeming, you look great!"

I smiled at him broadly and gave a little curtsey, "Thank you very much Peter," I said, "but please call me Jane."

He gave a mock bow and grinned, "Jane."

I grinned back at him then at Brad who was standing there with his mouth open, "May I say that you two look very nice too?" I said.

Brad found his voice, "Thank you Mrs Leem... uh sorry Jane"

As I turned and walked into the kitchen for some plates I heard Peter say to Brad," Fuck man, That is hot!"

I felt another tingle. Flattery does that to me.

We sat on the balcony and ate pizza and drank beer and wine for a couple of hours. The conversation was lively and funny. Both boys were great story tellers and had plenty to tell. Like most young men of their age, they thought they had done everything and knew everything. I didn't try to interrupt them at all, I just made a comment or two here and there to keep them talking.

By 10 PM we had moved into my lounge room. The wine and beer was starting to get to me, I knew that I was getting into my giggling phase, meaning that I was not too far away from being drunk. I was sitting on the couch with Peter next to me, not too close, and Brad was in the recliner chair across from us. Brad had the TV on and was flicking through the channels with the remote.

Brad found a movie on SBS. It was a European movie, in some unrecognisable language, with English sub-titles. A man and a woman were in a barn rolling around in the hay. The boys showed much interest as the man began to take the woman's blouse off exposing a very large but slightly sagging pair of breasts.

The boys were immediately interested. Peter turned to me.