Page 92 of Teach Me Dirty


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Dad waved her quiet.

Mum looked at Dad, and Dad looked at Mum, and my heart thumped.

“She is eighteen, George. You said the Sawbridges are a good family. I can’t see it’s so unreasonable.”

“Hmm. But her studying.”

“Her studying is going great, George. She’s doing really well.”

I could have hugged her. “My studying is going great, Dad. You can check.” And then I did the unavoidable, but I had no choice. “Harry’s nice. He’s good for me. I really like him, and I want to spend time with him, and I’m an adult now, and I should be allowed to stay over. I want to stay over.”

Mum squeezed Dad’s hand. “Look how happy she is, George. She’s been smiling ever since he came and picked her up for the ball. That can’t be a bad thing.”

He made a couple of noises, but they mainly sounded affirmative. “At least it’s put an end to all that teacher nonsense.”

Mum smiled, and I could have died inside. “We’re going away to stay with Auntie Mary over the holidays, between Christmas and New Year. Wendy and Bill were going, but Bill’s arthritis is playing him up. Maybe Harry could stay with you here, and watch the house?”

Dad visibly stiffened. “I’m not sure about that, Angela.”

She shot him a look. “Helen isn’t going to want to come away with us, George, not now she’s got a boyfriend.”

“We haven’t even met the lad. Not properly.”

“Not yet. I’m sure we will. We know Mick and Peggy.”

“We’ll be away a while.”

“She has a phone.”

“We should be together at Christmas.”

“We will be, Christmas day is all that matters. She’ll be here for Christmas day, won’t you, love?”

I nodded, mute.

“She’d have to take care of the cat.” Dad looked at me. “You’d have to take care of the cat, Helen, no gallivanting off and forgetting.”

I nodded again. “I’m capable of looking after the place, Dad.”

“No parties.”

I grinned. “When have I ever had a party?”

“I’m just saying. No parties.”

“Duly noted.” My heart was beating so fast I felt like I could fly.

Dad scowled a little, but resumed his eating. “I’m not entirely happy about this, but if that’s what you want.”

I clapped my hands, and couldn’t keep still in my seat, and my face was burning with excitement and relief and joy. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

They stared at me until I regained my composure, and then Mum laughed, and Katie laughed, and finally even Dad laughed.

And it was settled.

I had my two weeks, and there was nobody left to stand in my way.

***

I could feel the heat of him, and it was more than I could bear. Five days had taken their toll. Five days of wanting, and dreaming, and masturbating myself silly every night.

I inched my chair just a little bit closer and stared at my panto programme as everyone took their seats in the main hall.

“Miss Monkton got us good seats, at least,” he whispered.

I smiled. “Great seats.”

We were alone, by the lighting booth, behind all the main seating but the view was faultless. A couple of empty seats to our right threatened to spoil the moment, but the main lights dimmed without any additional occupants, and my heart soared.

I leaned into Mr Roberts as the music started up.

“I cleared it with Mum and Dad. I can stay out. I can do whatever I like over the holidays.”

“Whatever you like? Is that so?”

I nodded against his shoulder.

“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for,” he breathed.

His words brought tingles rushing through me and warmth between my legs. “I’ve been a good girl,” I hissed, pasting on a smile as the first act started up.

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to treat you like one.” His eyes twinkled in the darkness and it stopped my breath.

He shifted in his seat and his thigh touched mine, and it burned me. It burned so hot my throat dried up, and all I could think of was him. His body, his mouth, his skin. I watched him watching the crowd, and then his fingers found mine. Just the slightest touch, but it was everything.

His thumb stroked mine, and my fingers curled around his, but they wouldn’t stop moving, wouldn’t stop touching. In a roomful of people there was only the point where his body touched mine, and I couldn’t fight the way I felt, couldn’t fight the longing. My breath turned shallow, and so did his, and he squeezed my hand so hard, and it said so much. I needed him. I needed his touch more than I knew it was possible to need something.

He let go of my hand and his fingers touched to my bare knee, and then he stroked inside my thigh and I shivered and tingles rushed through my pussy. His voice was just a breath, and it was laced with promise. “I’ve a feeling it’s going to be a very happy Christmas, Helen.”

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