With a surge of warm expectation he heard the car pull onto the drive. From this point there would be no turning back and his new life would be formally launched tomorrow.
Joe's existence during the two years since his wife had succumbed to breast cancer had been pretty miserable, but his imminent marriage to her sister promised a return to a comfortable, if not particularly exciting, future.
Pauline had been their young bridesmaid when he'd married Brenda more than twenty four years ago. The two girls were close then, but the bond between all three of them had grown even stronger as the years had passed.
It had been a happy marriage, marred only by their inability to have children. Ironically, Pauline had given birth to a daughter less than a year after her own wedding, just six months before her husband was killed in a road accident.
Baby Charlotte, perhaps due to the lack of a father's discipline, had grown into a rebellious adolescent, frequently leaving her mother at the end of her tether. Eventually Joe had intervened and tactfully nudged the youngster away from most of the potential catastrophes that threatened to transpire and, as a result, had built up a tremendous rapport with the girl.
She had a lot to be grateful for, even though it had been some considerable time before she admitted it.
He had bought off the irate shopkeeper and persuaded him not to report it when she'd tried her hand at shop lifting at the tender age of twelve.
By fourteen she'd been taught that swearing was only a sign of immaturity and that being polite often achieved more than her previous rudeness.
At sixteen her hormones had become a physiological time bomb. Her wish to pierce her nose and lip was negotiated down to a minor ring in her belly button where it wasn't so obvious to potential employers. Similarly, the tattoos intended for her arms were eventually talked down to a single, tasteful rose on her left buttock.
All this, and much more, had been achieved without reference to her mother who, Joe guessed, was happier in her ignorance.
Pauline had been brought up as a Catholic and tended to see life through rose tinted glasses. She loved her daughter but felt God would provide all the direction necessary to enable a proper upbringing. After all, she'd conceived her baby without any formal sex education and Charlotte could, she felt sure, expect the same celestial guidance throughout her life.
Joe realised his intended second bride was relatively inexperienced and, apparently, had little interest in sexual matters, but loved her enough to settle for the promise of companionship and the remote hope of some occasional intimacy.
He opened the front door before Charlotte rang the bell.
After tomorrow's ceremony he would reside at Pauline's address and, at his suggestion, her daughter would take over his bungalow. He'd argued that, as the youngster was now eighteen, she needed her independence while the parental couple could benefit from being alone to settle into their new life.
She hugged him and kissed his cheek.
"I'll leave my stuff in the car for now," she said quietly. "Give me a quick conducted tour around what you're leaving and then I'd like to talk."
Joe gave her a quick look, sensing another counselling session was at hand.
"Have you got a problem?" He asked tentatively.
"Not really," she murmured, "it's nothing we can't work out between us."
Now apprehensive about the possibility of further, untimely demands being put upon him, he quickly whisked her around the property that was to become her home and then steered her back to the small conservatory.
"Sit down," he instructed, "and I'll go and mash some tea."
"I'd rather have a scotch," she murmured unexpectedly, "and it might be a good idea if you had one as well."
"I'm not sure I approve of you drinking spirits..." Joe observed hesitantly.
"I don't usually, but today I think we may both need a little Dutch courage."
He chose not to argue any longer and made for the drink's trolley, watching her carefully while pouring the whisky.
She was clearly agitated about something. Her fingers kept flicking the long hair back over her right ear while she crossed and uncrossed her bare legs.
Her eyes were everywhere except on him.
"Okay," he muttered when passing the glass, "perhaps you'd better get it off your chest?"
She sipped the amber fluid, took a deep breath and finally locked her huge green eyes to his.
"I want you to show me how to fuck."
The words bounced repetitively around Joe's brain as he sat gawping at her.
Incapable of speech, he couldn't believe what he'd heard.
The silence seemed to go on for ever as he consciously attempted to grapple with the implications of her request and stared at the girl as if seeing her for the first time.
Charlotte appeared to relax now that her wish was revealed, leaning back in the armchair to await his response.
As beautiful as her mother had been at the same age, but a damned sight more provocative.
Long, red hair down her back, thick and burnished by brushing. An oval face with a sprinkling of freckles on high cheek bones. A snub nose and large mouth below the glinting green orbs that were her eyes. She wore a white halter top over unrestrained breasts, revealing several inches of bronzed skin between it and the short skirt that hugged her slim hips. Her lean legs were long for someone of such short stature, terminating with tiny, childlike feet.
She was sensational, the very essence of a sensuous young woman, he thought, as a stonking great erection threatened to burst through his pants.
"I don't understand," he finally managed to reply in a strangled voice. "Try reading the sex manual I gave you."
"I know the theory, almost off by heart," she murmured, wrinkling her nose with impatience, "but if I'm old enough to be independent, it's time I got some practical experience."
"Oh, come on," Joe exploded. "If you've succeeded in keeping men at arm's length all this time, I'm amazed. However, if it's true and you've now decided the time is right, lower the defences and give the boyfriend a treat."
"I intend to," she said, pouting before going on, "but I don't want an amateurish fumble with him, so please teach me how to do it properly."
"I can't," he gasped desperately. "How can I possibly make love to you the day before I marry your mother. For Christ's sake, I'll be your stepfather tomorrow!"
"That's why it must be today," Charlotte grinned disarmingly. "Right now you're free to make it with who you wish, but once married, I suspect your principles will get in the way."
"But, why me? I'm old enough to be your father!"
"Because I trust you, because you understand me, because you'd never hurt me and because, in a funny sort of way, I love you," the youngster gushed. "Is that enough reasons? Besides, I believe if you're honest, you'll admit you'd like to do it and I think I owe you the opportunity."
"Your mother would never forgive me...," Joe continued to put up a half hearted fight.
"She'll never know about it from me," the girl interrupted earnestly. "I know you're not intending to see her between now and the ceremony, so I could stay the night without anyone being the wiser."
