Helga and Hans

Be patient. I have included plenty of back-story to start but stick with me and you'll come to the sexual interactions. You'll find flesh on flesh in plenty of permutations, but it's more plot than stroke. As my character Jill writes this is a family saga. So the story became quite long in the telling. This is fiction drawn from my imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Helga

The afternoon sun shone through the west window in the living room. The elderly couple refreshed by their afternoon snooze and gently enjoyed their customary four o'clock tea and cookies. Their regular routine had reestablished itself following the disruptions of their seventieth birthday celebrations.

"Celia told me at the party that they had chosen names for their child." She was referring to their first.

"Really? Already? She's, what, only six months pregnant. Is it going to be a boy or girl?"

"They don't know. They don't want to know so they have chosen one of each."

"I thought all youngsters these days needed to know what colour to not paint the nursery. So what names did they come up with? Not ours I hope."

"No. They are not that stupid. But you'll be surprised. Shocked even. I was."

"So tell me."

She paused and took a drink from her decorated porcelain cup. "Helga and Hans."

He exploded. "What? Oh, that's so weird."

She repeated. "Yes. Helga and Hans. I wasn't sure whether I should tell you."

"Do they know?"

"Of course not. How could they? Of course there may have been the odd reference to those names floating around, but there's no way they could know."

"Coincidence then? A long shot, but possible I suppose."

They both fell into silence. They both sank deep into the matrix of their memories to reconstruct barely suppressed emotions the names brought forward. The pivotal influence of both Helga and Hans had on their lives.

Later that evening Jack sat down to write. He showed it to Jill when he finished.

Jill added her own comments. It turned out to be their saga.

"When I started this out I planned that just our relationship with Helga and Hans would be explained and recorded to cleanse any touches of guilt I felt and correct any other record out there that may exist. As you have seen I strayed from my original intention. As I write this I am afraid Jill may throw me under the bus for some revelations that will be news to her. I hope she can forgive me. I am going to forward it to her now."

I've brought this final paragraph of Jack's memoir up front. I'm Jill, Jack's wife for the last forty-eight years. For the sake of clarity, so you can distinguish my words from Jack's, I am writing in italicized type. Reading over the memoir -- and I am trying to come up with a better term, maybe Saga -- I realize how narrow Jack's view on the world is, or was.

No, I am not throwing him under the bus, but he may wish to do the throwing after I give my clear description of my sex life that not only included Helga and Hans but, like Jack, had a wider horizon. I will also insert some points of clarification, or give context to the events of the time. I will probably correct and edit some of his writings.

Younger readers, if there are any, may think seventy year olds do no have or think about sex. You are wrong. I think this journey down memory lane will educate you. Your generation did not invent sex.

I arrived in Kitchener, Ontario, Canada on tenth April 1979, shortly after my thirty-fourth birthday. Kitchener is a small city about two hours west of Toronto. I arrived alone, leaving my wife Jill and our four children in London, England. Jill had to pack up and sell the house and arrange to move a fair amount of our furniture out. Our family, Alan aged 12, Brenda 11, Carol 9 and David 8, were all born about fifteen months apart, before I had the snip and Jill had her tubes tied.

(Remember this is Jack writing. I add my comments in italics. You'll get the hang of it.)

I am a mechanical engineer specializing in machine tools. As a result of my specialized skills I was raided by a mid sized Canadian Company to set up a Skunk Works to establish a new computer controlled line of machines from scratch. I landed in Canada with a two-year contract, with a five-year renewal option, in my hand. At that time the compensation was three times my English salary, with good benefits and a pension provision.

I met Jill, who is two days younger than me, at London University where she studied and graduated in Modern Languages -- French and German. She was six months pregnant with Alan and three months married to me when she graduated.

So I moved to Kitchener, Ontario, Canada. Initially I rented a house at a very reasonable rent for six months to allow time to find our feet in this new land.

The family arrived at the end of July and had time to settle in before starting school after Labor Day.

Jack gives no clue of how big an enterprise the move was. He was needed in Canada immediately and left me to organize the move, the sale of the house and the transport of the furniture and us. My mother took the children for days on end, and I spent my time sorting things out. I even handed out a blow job to the moving expediter to ensure the household furniture and all the crockery were crated in time to catch a particular ship out of London. It was that or delay another month. Jack had no idea of my dedication to the job. I was also sexually frustrated with Jack away. As you read on you'll come to appreciate, if you haven't already from the evidence of four children closely packed together, I have a supercharged libido that needed regular attention.

We quickly found that we were saving at an unprecedented rate for us, and having the capital available from the sale of our house in England, we found ourselves in a position to buy our own home. The manager of the company's personnel department alerted us to a five-bedroom home for sale in a three-year-old development with half-acre lots that was taken over by the bank in a foreclosure. We bought it at a knock down price. We were awe-struck by our good fortune.

I enjoyed the novelty of discovering our new environment. Things came together when we moved to the new, for us, house. But I was emotionally stretched out from the all the move entailed. The least thing irritated me, and the family started avoiding me.

Jill was stressed in those early days. We were brought down to earth the end of the first week of school in early September. The school Principal, Mr. Johnston, called us in about our thirteen-year-old Alan. He was blunt. Accusingly he told us that the first impressions of Alan was that he showed signs of being almost illiterate based on the first tests, but he was good at math and art. He also acknowledged that Alan had a charming and winning personality that he tried to use to work around his inabilities. Did we know? We were both devastated. After a detailed discussion, Mr. Johnston suggested we get Alan tested and gave us a name of a good child psychologist. That we did. We also had our other three children tested and evaluated as well.

Perversely the crisis with Alan brought me down to earth, I sucked in my emotions and returned to my usual control. Jack beat himself up rather badly, blaming himself for not spotting Alan's deficiencies. I refused to take that monkey on my back. I had a sense that something good would come out of all of this.

Alan and our second eldest, Brenda, were both diagnosed as having dyslexia. Alan was much worse that Brenda. We eventually found out that he charmed the teachers in England by being bright and helpful. He also had a friend who used to help him with his English and other homework. A new regime was called for.

We were recommended to a tutor for Alan who coincidentally lived only three doors away from our new home. A neighbour. She was a qualified teacher and had a Master's degree in special education concerning dyslexia. We could afford the tutor's fees but were pleasantly surprised to find the fees would be covered under the company's benefit plan. Once more luck fell in our favour. The tutor's name was Helga Van de Oort. So we met Helga, and then her husband Hans.

Helga and Hans entered our lives.

We advised the school Principal of our plan to get a tutor for Alan and Brenda. Alan was cut some slack at school as the school gave him an opportunity to catch up.

Jill and I rode a wave of excitement as we settled into the home, for which I was given some time off to settle. We consciously made a decision to fuck in every room -- we did this when the kids were at school. We marked out our new territory. From this you will gather we were sexually very active.

This was true. Alan's crisis brought me out of my funk of resentment about being left with the move. My libido came back with a vengeance and Jack and I rode it out as he says in every room in the house, including some of the cupboards in the basement, on the drier, and on the patio in the back yard.

After two weeks we had the place in some sort of order. Then I was back to work. We called Helga with a vague hint that we may need her services as a tutor, but since we had no idea what she was like we rolled out an invitation to dinner as a new neighbor.

Jill put on one of our favourite meals -- roast leg of lamb, with all the trimmings, onion soup to start, crème caramel for dessert and we opened the wine Hans brought. The kids were at the dinner table and behaved well. We sat Helga between Alan and Jill. I could not help noticing how Alan seemed to flirt with Helga.

As soon as we met Helga I knew we were soul mates. I cannot explain it. She was five years older than me. She was like a mother to me. She seemed to make perfect sense every time she spoke. She made sensible suggestions. She was physically attractive. Taller than me she looked down into my eyes in a simple gesture of domination.

Hans was a large man. I recognized the "I want to take you" look in his eyes. Unlike Jack, his latent power scared me a bit, but Helga put herself between us and seemed to protect me. I felt a new sensation of being putty in her hands. I could tell that Alan felt the same. She would be good for him.

Hans was a big man, over six foot two inches and broad. He had a gentle smile and his presence offered no sense of threat in spite of his size. Helga was also tall at about five foot ten, although with her slim frame, albeit with a generous bosom, looked small compared against Hans. I estimated they were about five years older than us, possibly over forty.

After our youngest was put to bed, and the others went to the family to watch TV, we adults were able to get down to the business of the tutoring. It was quickly and easily arranged. Our conversation then eased into information about the neighbourhood, Hans' plant nursery and landscaping business, and Helga's involvement in the community. We sketched our history and what I was doing. The most important outcome for me was that Jill seemed to get along with Helga.

The following week Jill took a reluctant and somewhat rebellious Alan over to see Helga. That evening over dinner, when we discussed his new regime of seeing Helga three times a week for an hour after school, Alan had come around to grudgingly agree to comply. He was read the riot act and huffed off to his room as soon as we would let him escape. So the tutoring began.

There was no need for the riot act as Alan was already eating out of Helga's hand. He told me when I tucked him into bed that night that he thought Helga could really help him. He had finally recognized his own deficiencies and was ready to do something about them. I was deeply relieved and thankful to Helga. I had no problems in sending Alan over to Helga after school. He was eager to go.

Helga invited me over to morning coffee and muffins. I discovered she spoke German. She was born in Canada but her parents were Germans who left in 1936. We conversed in German, although my German was quite rusty from lack of use. Our conversations ranged over everything from the political system in Canada to Opera to sport.

My morning sessions with Helga occurred three times in the first week and four in the second. Helga took me around the best shops to buy in, the community and fitness centers and library and the Church for a service at the weekend. She was kind and gentle. Her suggestions seemed so sensible. I signed up for fitness and yoga and some swimming in the public pool.

Three weeks later Helga and Hans invited us all over for an early supper prepared on the barbeque. I should describe their property: their ranch, single story style house with a L-shaped plan was located to one side of a double lot. They had a full acre. The back of the house terraced down to a small lake that was home to Trumpeter Swans. The slope of the lot allowed for a walk out from a large basement family room through full sized patio doors onto a patio area contained within the L-part of the house. The patio was well equipped with chairs and a large dining table. A large swimming pool, with a side hot tub was located on a lower terrace a few steps down from the patio. Hans told us the water was still quite warm, and the kids who had been pre-warned were soon stripped down to their swimming gear and enjoyed splashing around in the warm water.

Hans proudly showed me around the grounds, including an almost large denuded vegetable garden, some clever things he had done with retaining walls for the terraces, the lakeside platform, and the black painted, clever copper tubing arrangement he had rigged up to heat the pool water using just sunshine and a pump. Jill and Helga just sat and drank wine and chatted, whilst we carried our beer bottles with us. Jill later told me she had been given the tour earlier in the week.

Helga gave us an account of how her first couple of weeks had gone with Alan. Overall Helga was positive she could improve Alan's reading and writing but it may take several years to undo some of the work-around and hiding habits he developed. We were asked to make a long-term commitment, and we did. Helga also agreed to take on Brenda for one session a week to ensure she caught up and stayed that way. We talked frankly about the costs, and agreed to a fee structure that was fair to Helga and to my company.

After Hans established I could not skate, he suggested I try curling at the local rink. He would introduce me. It sounded as exciting as lawn bowls, but I recognized I needed to make the effort to embed myself somewhat in the community. Along similar lines Helga induced Jill to join both fitness and a yoga class as well suggesting she come along to a library board meeting to see if she would like it. Hans and Helga took us under their wing and planned to get us involved in local activities.

Helga and I continued our morning meetings when Helga was available. The winter weather with snow blew in. Helga and Hans educated us in how to cope and what to do. Helga took me shopping for all the winter gear -- it was expensive for the six of us.

As the winter settled in my work went well, although the hours I spent at work stretched out somewhat. We bought a second hand car for Jill to get around on her own. The persistent post-pregnancy fat Jill developed after David arrived started to melt away with her new exercise regime, and she started to get toned to the level she had when we first met. I was surprised to find that I liked curling and proved to be quite good at it. The kids settled into school and their tutoring sessions.

During the first year the rhythm of life was constantly new to us. The cold and snowy days, the warm friendships other than Hans and Helga that developed, the shopping routines, the occasional visits into Toronto, getting the kids involved in the local hockey, Brenda in the continuation of her piano lessons, Carol in ballet and a host of other small things all had a frisson of novelty and excitement about them. We were explorers in a new land -- to us.

If anything our intimacy deepened, and our sex life continued with a sense of fun energy.

The novelty of the newness wore off as the seasons and the years rolled by. There were the usual life's up and downs, with Alan rebelling and Brenda getting very emotional as she entered puberty, but on the whole we were a happy family. My work proceeded well. I received unexpected generous bonuses along with salary increases when we met scheduled milestone events. Financially we felt secure and our standard of living gradually improved. The pace of the project was picking up and I worked longer and longer hours. My contract was renewed at a generously increased rate and the bonuses written in, along with defined milestone events. Jill remarked on my absence but never really complained.

When we were in our third year in Canada my frustration with Jack's continual absences began to wear on me. I chatted with Helga about it. I spoke to Jack but I am not sure I was assertive enough or he failed to hear my pleas for help. That summer Jack once more received a significant bonus for the work he was doing. I admit to feeling resentful about the bonus, considering that Jack received it at my expense. When it arrived in September, shortly after a trivial argument we had, Jack gave me a check for a thousand dollars to spend on myself. Maybe he sensed my attitude and tried to compensate. But I took it even though I was uncertain how to spend the money. Helga suggested I get a whole new wardrobe.

Hans' two hundred acre tree farm, after ten years of careful husbandry, produced trees for sale for the first time that summer. What had been a constant drain on their funds became a bit of a cash cow. Hans heard of my gift and matched it for Helga.

October that year, Jack had arranged his first trip to Taiwan for something to do with circuit boards. My mother, Joan, came over from England to keep me company and help with the kids. That's when Helga and I arranged a serious clothes-shopping trip to Toronto. Jack was away and with my mother was there to look after the kids.

It so happened Hans had business in Toronto so he volunteered to drive us in early. He deposited us on Bloor Street in the heart of Toronto. We had coffee in a tony coffee bar and then hit the shops at ten in the morning. We shopped until noon, had lunch at the Windsor Arms Hotel, consuming cocktails and a bottle of wine. Then there was more shopping until we met Hans at four in the afternoon for the return journey. We hit the traffic. Helga rode in the back with me. I dozed off with my head on her shoulder. She had her arm around me.

When we arrived home they invited me in. I phoned my mother to see if I was needed. She told me they were about to go out for supper/dinner at McDonalds. She gave me strict instructions not to come home unless I was absolutely ready. She loved having the children to herself.

I readily accepted a large glass of red wine Hans handed me, kicked off my shoes and once more snuggled up to Helga on the sofa in the family room with a fire to one side warming my shoulder. Hans sat the other side of Helga on the sofa and leaned forward to quiz us about our shopping. We gave him the full story. Hans asked to see what Helga had bought. She unpacked her various bags and held up her trove of new garments. I was then pressed to do the same. Hans then told us that he couldn't really picture how the clothes would look on us and suggested a fashion show. Helga and I were both a giggly after a second large glass of wine and the suggestion seemed like a wonderful idea.

Helga and I withdrew to the bedroom. We stripped off our outer clothes, skirt and blouse for me, and trousers and sweater for Helga. We pranced around like kids before starting the show. We went back and forth six times to the family room with a different outfit on each time, grabbing a gulp of wine on every circuit. We both were very merry.