"This is Eleanor," Stefan began with a sweep of his hand, stepping toward me rather awkwardly; the bare erection in his shorts undoubtedly rubbing sensitively on the cloth.
Eleanor's hand remained delicately in mine, "Nice to finally meet you, Sharon," she said, her sapphire-blue eyes locked determinedly on my own.
Her face was slim, the cheek bones defined and high, and her nose was slender; all features just like my own. Enviously, unlike myself, her lined skin sported a gentle bronzed tan to it. With her deep eye sockets and fair eyebrows, which angled downwardly at the centre, Eleanor emitted a distinctly vampish impression despite her relaxed demeanour.
So strong was her presence, it would have felt disrespectful to have looked away to Stefan.
I could not help but notice that despite the inevitability of lines with age, the crows feet were subtle in her complexion, perhaps more akin to the footprints of a domestic house sparrow. The soft flesh below them had feint lines also, and there was little discolouration, perhaps just a slight darkening, whereas beneath my own eyes there seemed to be permanent dark discolouring, despite the complete smoothness of my skin, undoubtedly due to my permanent state of stress.
Finally, Eleanor let her hand fall, before taking a seat on sofa, her tan coloured hold-ups contrasting against the powder-blue upholstery, whilst picking out the minimalistic gold swirl pattern.
I had only been into Stefan's house a handful of times, when Sarah and myself were still good friends. The decor hadn't really changed since their relationship had ended, which indicated that Stefan had certainly been the main influence on the tasteful furnishing, and felt no need to change when they separated.
Despite the closed curtains, the room remained bright with the two well-lit ceiling lamps at either end, whilst the four chrome, wall-mounted uplighter's, two on opposite walls, remained dormant, against the comforting, warm pale grey paint.
The longest wall was still adorned with white open shelves, and a myriad of books from countless paperback's, to large reference ones, primarily on paintings and photography.
A couple of table lamps, with their rounded, contoured glass bases stood on small light wooden side tables, whilst two powder-blue wing back chairs were opposite the sofa in adjacent corners.
A few small items of clothing clung to one, evidently deposited hurriedly without care or thought, I figured.
Eleanor now patted the cushion next to her, motioning for me to join her.
A look of confusion, perhaps slight fearfulness must have been etched into my face, but Stefan gave me a reassuring nod.
Eleanor crossed her legs, allowing her skirt to rise revealing the broad band of patterned laced material at the top of the hold-ups.
"I have heard a great deal about you, Sharon," she smiled, causing her face to soften remarkably, as she glanced to Stefan.
"All good I hope," I stammered nervously, realising both of my arms were crossed tightly over my stomach, like an armoured belt.
"You have no concerns, all very good," she replied patting my leg, giving a friendly smile.
I looked to Stefan, my arms till crossed defensively as I sat, "so what have you been saying?" I asked with a sickly nervous grin, acutely aware that he had been talking about me to someone I had never met, or even heard of.
"This young man thinks a great deal of you," Eleanor interrupted, "I just wish he was bold enough to follow through his thoughts," she continued intriguingly.
A little confusion know fogged my head.
"If he thinks so much of me, why is he here having sex with you," I replied, my tone a touch more defensive than it had meant to sound.
Stefan's face dropped to the floor, abashed.
"Don't be so silly, Stefan," Eleanor began, looking to him, "this lovely young man was lacking confidence after his relationship ended with the seemingly charming Sarah, and so I took him under my wing, so as to speak."
"Under your hips you mean," I said, starting to feel agitated that this beautiful older woman had stolen the man I desired, "and how do you know so much about Sarah?"
Eleanor ran her fingers through her shoulder length blonde curls, then paused.
"I own the printing business where Stefan works," she began, "as you may or may not know, we a are small company with seven staff. Stefan is a team-leader and in charge of printing."
"Oh," I exclaimed somewhat embarrassed at my own aggressiveness, "it never occurred that you worked together, I just assumed he had a new girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?" she laughed, "I am fifty-eight years of age, a tad old to be his girlfriend. I am merely restoring his confidence," she added, with a firm, dismissively reassuring tone.
I looked to Stefan, whose gaze has risen from the floor. A sheepish, uncertain smile was across his face, and I noticed the swelling in his shorts had reduced significantly, which was not surprising given the new dynamics of the room.
Eleanor carefully placed a hand my knee and smiled. The touch was almost reassuring despite the flutter of apprehension in my chest.
"I am doing this for the both of you," Eleanor began, glancing to us both.
"I don't think so," I blurted out aggressively, lifting her hand from my leg.
She placed it back down, ignoring my words and action.
"What Sarah did to Stefan was rather mean," she continued, "treating him like that."
"Yes, going behind his back with another guy was a horrible thing to do to him," I agreed.
He looked at me rather coyly, the memory still exceptionally uncomfortable.
Eleanor now began to stroke my leg, up to the risen hem of my dress. I shifted, but before I could speak she continued.
"Sarah not only went behind his back, but took the trouble to also inform him that her new lover had a larger penis also."
The caress of Eleanor's continued stroking of my leg now provided a perverse sense of comfort on hearing the pain he must have suffered from one of my friend's.
"Oh Stefan, I'm so sorry, I really am, what a bitch. I'm so sorry I once called her a friend," I practically begged, in a tone desperate for forgiveness, as I brought my hands to my mouth in despair.
He reassured me that all was fine, and I had nothing to apologise for, as her actions and words were hers alone.
Eleanor continued to stroke my pale flesh, her fingers immaculately adorned with light marshmallow-pink pearlescent nails, now slipped beneath the hem of the dress. I did not move.
Eleanor continued, looking to Stefan, "so during our lunch breaks at work, and occasionally during the working day we had some very, very long talks, to the detriment of the work in the print shop, to bolster your confidence haven't we?"
"We have," he replied, placing both hands on his hips with remarkable reassurance.
"I'd have given you all the confidence you need," I implored, my heart aching with compassion, "why didn't you tell me?"
