Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 41

Despite Barbie’s nudging, I was still dubious about taking the plunge, though secretly, my attraction to Jayne was growing even stronger. I observed her closely and realised she was indeed interacting more with me during our group outings, than with the other blokes. She would make a point of sitting next to me, and would get a little bit flirty, without going overboard. My resolve was weakening. But did I really want to get involved with what was, effectively, still a married woman.

The forces were really hot on its members not getting into ‘adulterous relationships’, and I was not sure they would accept the separation as a valid excuse. Usually ‘offenders’ would be posted, like immediately, as far away as possible from the other party. For me that would mean being kicked off my course and kissing my promotion goodbye. I had to carefully consider my position before acting. In the end though, my dick overruled my brain and my hand was largely forced, by TFMD herself.

The Easter break was on us, and we decided to have a group evening out, before we all went off for a couple of weeks ‘end of term’ block leave, at cease work the following day. I was planning to go back to my parent's home again. If I recall correctly, we went tenpin bowling, after which we, inevitably, ended up in the pub. As had become the norm, Jayne plonked herself down next to me on the bench seat at our table.

We sat having a quiet drink (it was a ‘school night’, so nothing heavy would have gone down) and chewing the fat. At one point, someone must have said something amusing. We all had a good laugh and, as was not uncommon, Jayne leant into me and laid her hand on my arm. The difference was that this time it stayed there; or more accurately, it linked through under my arm and came to rest on my forearm, and she made no move to pull away once the laughter had abated.

I too did not attempt to break the contact, why would I. I was enjoying Jayne’s closeness. The warmth of her body next to me. The occasional brush of her smallish, but firm breast on my arm. The waft of her perfume (Fidji I later learned it was called. I recently tried to get some for her as a nostalgic gift, but it’s no longer available.) At some point, I caught Barbie’s eye and saw she was smirking and sharing knowing looks with Jayne. Of course, the women had engineered this. I was being too slow on the uptake (or too stupid in their words), so they decided to force the issue. Thank you, Barbie, I will for ever be in your debt.

Come closing time, we all, Barbie and Ken included, took the short walk back to our flat for a coffee and a snack before we called it a night. Jayne remained locked to my arm as we strolled. It already seemed natural and nobody had, as yet commented openly on the new phenomenon. Let’s just suck it and see I decided.

Supper finished, Barbie and Ken needed to get back to base, and went to order up a taxi, but Stewart, my roomie, offered to drive them home; he’d had just one pint all evening. The other two residents had already turned in for the night, so Jayne and I found ourselves alone in the sitting room, sat together on the settee. It was a bit awkward at first, we had not really had any ‘lone time’ until this point. Gradually though, without any spoken agreement, we reached out for each other, embraced and started to kiss. Quite chastely at first, then with a bit more vigour.

It was then that I almost totally fucked up and ruined things before they even started. As hopefully I’ve demonstrated in my accounts so far, I’m usually quite reserved when it comes to making sexual advances on a woman. I try to be respectful and wait to be led or invited to proceed with any kind of physical contact. On this occasion, something snapped in my head. Was it because I saw Jayne as, the ‘married woman’ obviously no stranger to sex; an easy lay perhaps. If so, it was certainly completely unconsciously.

Almost at once I started to grope at Jayne’s body, zeroing in at once on her clothed tits. She tensed momentarily, then appeared to relax. Her breasts, as I have already indicated, were quite small, but felt firm and inviting in my hands. Without waiting for any sort of affirmation, I unbuttoned her shirt, and pushed up her plain, salmon pink bra, baring her pert, white, pink tipped breasts.

Pushing her back into a semi-reclining position on the settee, I went straight in, kissing and licking at her nipples, then gently nibbling on them with my teeth. After a few minutes mouthing her tits, I reached down between her partly open thighs, where through the tight, tight jeans she was wearing, the cleft of her fanny was clearly outlined. I firmly massaged up and down the camel toe, focusing my attention on where I assumed her clitoris would be.

Whilst Jayne made no attempt to halt my groping, she gave no sign that it was in any way pleasurable for her. My lust was making me blind to this, and I would no doubt have gone on to try and fuck her, forgetting that my roommate would only likely be gone for 30-40 minutes, dropping off his passengers. Jayne heard his car pulling into the parking area downstairs, pushed me off of her and dashed for the bathroom.

It started to dawn on me what a fucking imbecile I was being. Not only were my advances obviously not especially welcome that early in our, well, whatever this was between us right now, but I’d very nearly put her in an exceedingly embarrassing situation with Stewart.

Letting himself into the flat and entering the sitting room, Stewart was surprised to see me still up. I told him Jayne was still there and had just popped to the loo. Acknowledging this, he just said his good nights, and retired to our room, to bed. After a few minutes, Jayne emerged from the bathroom, her bra and blouse fully back on and fastened. Without further delay, she grabbed her coat, saying she had work in the morning too and needed to get off. I offered to walk her back to her own place, but she declined the offer, saying It was only five minutes round the corner, and she’d be perfectly safe on her own; did I detect undertones in her voice that said, ‘safer than here, at least.’ She then promptly left, without anything further being said. I sat up for another half hour or so, cursing my stupidity, knowing I’d royally fucked things up, and that was probably the last I would see of Jayne.

After duty the following day, I headed off on leave as planned, assuming there was no reason at all not to do so. I could not however relax and enjoy my time off. My mind was constantly on Jayne. Fighting with myself wether or not I should just accept I had screwed up my chances and forget her; or whether there was any way I could salvage things and perhaps persuade her to forget that part of the night had happened, rewind and try again.

After just a couple of days, I considered heading back, but realised I actually had no way of contacting Jayne. She had no phone and, although I knew roughly where she lived, I didn’t know the full address. Barbie would have known, but She and Ken had also gone away for the two weeks, so returning would have been pointless, so I stuck it out.

After a couple of days back from leave, Ken collared me and told me Barbie wanted to talk to me. I was to meet her at the NAAFI café after we both finished work that evening. It wasn’t an invitation; it was an instruction. I was waiting, with two large milky coffees when she arrived at spot on 5:30pm. I took the bollocking I was expecting like a man, albeit a very scared and humbled man.

The one-way conversation basically went: what had I been thinking! Jayne was not a piece of meat for my pleasure. She thought better of me than that. She would never hav ‘fixed us up’ if she’d thought for a moment I’d pull a stunt like that (ahh, the truth at last),etc, etc., etc. you’re an idiot, Titus, a fucking idiot. God knows why, but Jayne is willing to forgive you for virtually raping her (bit strong that). If you are still interested, pick her up, at her flat 7pm, and be ready to wine and dine her!

Surprised, but happy, that it seemed I was getting that second chance I’d hoped for, I arrived at the address given to me by Barbie, at the required time. I was somewhat taken aback when an elderly man answered the door, (the landlord, who occupied the ground floor of the building, but let out the upstairs rooms). Closing the door on me, he went to tell Jayne I was there. When she appeared a few minutes later, she was looking really hot in blouse and tailored slacks, topped off by a thigh length jacket. I think the most dressed up I’d seen her to date.

We strolled to the restaurant I’d booked. Conversation was stunted, but friendly enough. We enjoyed a nice meal, and by the time we’d finished, the awkwardness barrier had mostly been breached. I asked Jayne what she wanted to do next, and she asked to just go to our local pub for a quiet drink, which was fine by me. We were fortunate enough to get a table in a quiet corner of the lounge bar, where we could talk freely.

As I collected our drinks from the bar, I tried to assess the situation. Although we were there together, alone, there was still a tension between us. I decided, correctly thank goodness, that both of us needed to confront the elephant in the room and clarify where we stood. After settling in at the table, I wasted no more time and waded straight in. I apologised profusely for my behaviour that night before leave. I wasn’t going to make excuses; it was not excusable. But I did stress that it wasn’t the real me. That nothing like that would happen again, without her full, unambiguous consent, if that was ever to be given.

Jayne made her case too. She was attracted to me and as I’d made no move, she gone along with Barbie’s plan to push us together. She’d got impatient that night, and yes, had probably sent out mixed signals. But when I started pawing at her, she had been quite upset. In that moment, she saw me as just another bloke wanting to get in her knickers, for his own gratification (which in truth at that moment in time I was). She’d had enough of that in her failed marriage. She had wanted to slap me and tell me to fuck off, but some unknown force had told her to give me some latitude, that it could be better, and here we were. She went on, she liked sex as much as the next person, but as an equal participant, not as an object, to be taken at will. She needed me to take things slowly, and when the time was right, who knows.

We had both laid our cards on the table and we went on to agree to forget our previous encounter and start again; well, just start really. The air cleared, we both visibly relaxed. The remainder of the evening was very pleasant, we gelled well and before we knew it, last orders and closing time came. I walked Jayne back to her gaff, hand in hand this time. At the front door, we paused for a moment, agreed we were glad we’d sorted things out and arranged a next ‘date’. I quickly embraced her, and was rewarded with a brief, but very welcome and enjoyable kiss, before we parted ways.

We essentially now entered a period of ‘dating’, like a couple of teenagers, (I was actually twenty-three by then, and Jayne was two years older at twenty-five.) We did all the normal things, eating out, pub, cinema, day trips to the seaside, etc. I had a lot of studying to do for upcoming exams, and Jayne would often just sit with me, reading or watching TV as I pawed over my books. In fact, she became almost a permanent fixture at our flat, rather than sit alone in her own cold, dreary bedsit; but she always, at that point, returned to her own place to sleep.

And gradually, over a couple of months, our relationship started to become more physical too. One night, after the other residents had retired to bed (we were down to three of us by then, one had failed too many progress tests and been removed from the course, he’d get another chance the following year and passed out successfully on that second try), we were smooching on the settee, as we often did. Without warning, Jayne took hold of my hand and placed the palm directly over her breast.