As a civilian apprentice working with the British Royal Navy back in the late 1970s, once my exams were out of the way I would spend my summer months working in places like Portsmouth, Plymouth, Newcastle and Glasgow to gain practical experience in the shipyards and naval bases. On my first visit to Plymouth, aged 19, little did I realise that I was about to gain practical experience on a more personal and life-changing level.
I loved working in the coastal towns and always selected to stay in a guesthouse near the seafront, as that's where girls would be found, enjoying their holidays and dressed in skimpy summer clothing. My naΓ―ve hope was to find a young teenager staying with her parents in the same guesthouse and maybe enjoy a holiday fling, luring her back to my room after her parents had retired for the night. Not surprisingly that never materialised, and probably just as well, because what happened instead turned out to be far more educational and of lasting benefit.
I arrived at my guesthouse after work on the first day and was greeted by Sue, the landlady. Smiling broadly, she welcomed me into her home as if I was family, putting me at ease immediately and radiating warmth and motherly charm. As we struck up conversation I took in how lovely she was, a full-figured bonny looking woman who I guessed was in her 50's. She was dressed in a flowing knee-length summer dress, her greying fair hair elegantly bobbed and wearing the minimum of make-up.
She led me up to my room on the 2nd floor and as I followed her up the stairs I was struck by how beautifully full and rounded her bottom was. More than that though, it was her leg appeal that affected me more. They were bare and lightly tanned with a lovely natural sheen to her skin, and slim ankles. Her feet were dainty, her toenails painted perfectly in a deep shade of blue and she was wearing white stilettos with a peep toe. The shape of the shoes was very elegant and she was displaying some lovely toe cleavage. Only with hindsight did I realise that she had equipped me to be a life-long admirer of feminine legs and feet.
She showed me the room and suggested that once I had freshened up I should join her in the lounge for afternoon tea. I suspect this was so she could find out about me at the outset and do a full character assessment. Not that I minded, I was going to be spending 10 weeks in her home. We spent a pleasant hour chatting and her interrogation was so subtle, and she was so engaging, that I was happy to play along. Sitting opposite me I found it difficult to not to steal glances at her lovely legs, especially as she had that wonderful habit of dangling a heel from her toes.
Slowly but surely I was succumbing to her feminine charm and couldn't help wondering if she was flirting as she started to quiz me about girlfriends. With a twinkle in her eye she told me she understood the way of young people and said she was happy for me to invite a girl back so long as we were quiet and didn't disturb other guests. By the time we finished chatting I realised that I was very attracted to her and that I would jump at the chance to be more intimate. I could never have guessed that the opportunity would come so soon.
During my first week at Sue's guesthouse I rarely saw her wearing the same attire twice. She was invariably presented perfectly, nails always beautifully manicured and hair neat, either up or down to just touch her shoulders. I soon realised she enjoyed showing off her legs, always wearing a skirt or dress and with high heels of varying colours and styles. I came to look forward to hearing her clicking heels on the wooden floors and wondering what she would be wearing. I would tease her about the extent of her shoe collection and she must have sensed I enjoyed seeing her legs and feet so much on display.
By the end of my second week we had established a lovely rapport with each other, I was the only constant guest, others came and went after a night or two. She came to ask me little favours like changing a light bulb or mending something, explaining that she had no man in her life. I noticed that she would often place a hand on my arm or playfully poke me in the chest during our frequent conversations.
On the Friday of that second week I had been planning to go home for the weekend but during the day the weather deteriorated rapidly with an Atlantic storm hitting Plymouth hard. I rang Sue during the afternoon and asked if I could stay for the weekend as trains out of the city were becoming badly delayed. She expressed pleasure with my change of plans and told me she had been dreading a weekend on her own now that the bad weather had resulted in other guests cancelling. A pleasant thought crossed my mind that Sue and I would be on our own in the house that weekend and at the end of work I hurried back to hers with a sense of excitement, wanting to spend time in her company.
With the storm starting to make landfall I arrived at the house soaked through and found to my horror that I had left my front door key in my room that morning. Hoping Sue would be in I rang the bell and waited ages in the rain until she came to the door. It was clear that she had been in the bath or the shower, her hair wet and wearing a long dressing gown and without her trademark heels. I apologised profusely for disturbing her relaxing soak and for forgetting my key but she would hear none of it, fussing instead over my bedraggled appearance and insisting I join her for tea after I'd showered and changed.
So there I was back in her lounge, two weeks after I had arrived and been given my interrogation. This time however, Sue came and sat next to me, still wearing her robe but having dried her hair and pinned it up off her shoulders, which I found very appealing. Her face was glowing from her warm bath and she smelt gorgeous. She tucked her bare feet under her legs, leaned into me and asked me what my plans were for the weekend. She added that the weather was going to get worse still and that she was worried about the warnings being given for the severe storm.