Helen in High Heels Part II of III [MF] – Short Sex Story

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Helen and I met every Monday that semester. We studied some. But it was mostly just talking. She shared her notes with me and I did well in the class overall but we had grown much closer by the end. We talked about everything: politics, religion, friends. She told me about herself. She was the oldest of 4 children. Her mother died when she was young and she raised her younger siblings. Her job, social work, wasn’t really her passion but it was an easy career that she could pursue while commuting to college and caring for her siblings. She missed out on fully enjoying her school years and her 20s. She had to be an adult and a mother too early.
Soon after, she met Jack. She was 29 to be exact, and married him soon after. He was older so they had 2 kids right away, now 4 and 2. Once Jack moved up in his job, she had realized that she didn’t like her job so she cut back to part-time and decided to go back to college and take some classes. She had money so she was able to slowly take one class at a time. Her ultimate goal was to apply to medical college, dental college or even nursing. But she was slowly realizing that she might not have time. She was 35 now and she would need 21 more credits before she can apply. I asked her how she plans on going through medical college with 2 young kids. She didn’t really have an answer to that. She said she was taking it one class at a time.

She tried to set me up with multiple girls in church during that semester and I repeatedly said I wasn’t interested. This led into us talking about what sort of girls I am interested in, personalities, body types, hair color and some about my past experiences… I tried to never give a straight answer. By that point I had been developing a shameful little crush on Helen. She incredibly easy to talk to and when we talked, I felt better about myself. She was encouraging and uplifting. I liked how she wondered I was.
I only admitted this crush to myself. I knew it wasn’t healthy for me, but I figured, what is the downside? I knew I was never going tell her and I accepted that. Eventually I would meet someone and this would slowly die off. In the meantime, she was helping me focus on college and I was helping her re-live her begone youth.

In addition to our weekly “dates”, we texted almost daily. She wasn’t into much of social media, so I introduced her to it. We made her a twitter, snapchat and Instagram accounts. Her favorite was snapchat. She didn’t have many friends on there but she shared everything with me. Meals she made, places she went, dresses and shoes she bought. That’s when I learned how detached her and her husband were. She never talked negatively about him; she was too classy for that. But she also… never really talked about him at all. Most of her stories were of places she went alone or with her kids. All her snap stories were of her shopping alone or eating out alone or driving the kids places and picking them up. She was a dedicated mom and loyal wife, but she wasn’t super close with her husband. On the rare occasion that she would mention him, she would say something like, “Jack has been on a trip for 3 days” or “his company flew us to Milan for whatever… and I got to explore the city all day when he was at work.” She seemingly never did anything with him. He was never around. But I was.

The semester ended. We both did well in the class. I got a B+, she had an A-. This was a gigantic improvement for me and I credited all to her. But now summer was here and there wouldn’t be much to study and no excuse to meet up every Monday. Nevertheless, we stayed in contact through texting and snapchat. One time, she invited me over her house for coffee. She said Jack was out of town but her kids would be there and that they would like seeing me. It was an innocent request on her part but I felt weird about it. In my heart I knew I liked her. I felt that showing up to her home when her husband was gone was breaking some sort of rule. But I couldn’t stop myself. I said ok.

She told me to come at 4 PM. I tried to make it seem very casual. I showed up late, 4:13. I pulled up in the driveway and kept my car running with the windows down as if to make it seem like I stopped by on my way somewhere else just to say hi. I honked my horn and she peaked her head out one of the windows and signaled me in, “coffee is ready”. I turned the car off and went in.

When I walked in my heart sank. She stood at the kitchen counter of her very well-lit kitchen. She had at all times been someone who was very well dressed but now, in her home, she was dressed down. She wore a white short sleeve shirt that turned almost sheer in the sunlight coming through the giant window of her kitchen. Underneath the white shirt, she wore another tank top, only that one was darker and sleeveless with spaghetti straps. On the bottom she wore modest black shorts that went down to the middle of her thigh. They perfectly showed off her incredibly long legs. The sexiest part of her outfit however was that she was barefoot. Every time I had seen Helen in the past year she had worn high heels that clicked and clacked everywhere she went. It got to a point where every time I heard heels anywhere, in a true Pavlovian manner, I would turn around and look for her. Now, she was barefoot on the cold hard wood floor.

I walked in and she immediately shushed me, “The kids are napping.” She gave me a friendly kiss on the cheek.
“Oh crap, I hope I didn’t wake them up with my honk.”
“I think we are safe. Here.. grab some coffee while I finish the dishes.”
I walked over to the coffee maker trying not to turn around to watch her. She stood at the sink, slightly bent over and washing the dishes. Her breasts shook slightly as she scrubbed. I was having dirty thoughts, I felt ashamed but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. I watched her as I poured coffee into my cup.
She turned around, “It’s not Starbucks but its ok, right?” She startled me.
“You can say that again. $7 per week can really add up.”
She turned and smiled. I took my cup and walked away. I was aroused. I had to hide it so I sat down in the living room and turned on the TV. “So what have you been up to?” I yelled across the living room so she could hear me in the kitchen.
“I signed up for Biochem next semester. Are we gonna be in the same class?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t signed up yet. Which one did you sign up for?”
“Biochem 192 I think. It’s with a professor DeFranco.” She was now walking over with a cup of coffee, still barefoot. “It’s on Mondays and Wednesdays 4:00 to 6:00”
“That’s a rough time slot.”
“Yeah, I am gonna have to alter my work schedule and find a baby sitter after school. Jack doesn’t get back from work till 8, 7 at the earliest.”
“That’s rough. But we can head there together from Starbucks.” I said.
“Exactly.” She winked and raised up her coffee cup. I felt reassured our dates would continue. I raised my glass back.
“In other news, I am going up to the beach with a Wayne and Steve next weekend.”
“That’s fun, what are you guys staying”
“Not really sure, we didn’t really plan anything. I am sure we are gonna find something, Steve is driving.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun. Any girls coming?” She asked inquisitively.
“Yes, lots of them. I am sure. None that any of the three of us would be talking to. But, yes, I am sure there will be lots of girls at the beach.”
She chuckled. I like to make her laugh. “I am sure you guys will be beating them off with a stick.
“We are gonna be beating off alright.” I said that line quietly and under my breath. I wasn’t sure if she heard me, but I was embarrassed for saying it and wished she hadn’t heard it. It was immature and she was a classy woman. I needed to be better.
“Well, if we are talking about vacations, I can tell you about mine.”
I looked up. “You going to the beach too?” For a split second I wondered about her slender body and long legs in a swimming suit with her hair carried by the beach breeze.
“No, nothing so exotic. Jack said he was taking me to the Amalfi Coast.”
“Aren’t we fancy?” I said sarcastically. “Is this one of Jack’s business trips?” I unintentionally let some of my disdain for him slip out.
“No, I don’t think so.” She wasn’t certain. “I think he planned this one on his own. I got a new swim suit, want to see?”
My eyes widened. I had only imagined this a few minutes ago. I couldn’t believe I was about to see it. I tried to not seem too willing. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “sure” slightly shaking my head.
She sprang out of her chair and ran into upstairs. I watched her walk away. It struck me how light she was. She didn’t walk across the living room. She glided, with only her toes touching the ground. She made no noise. Only the wind as she moved across me to get to the stairs, wind that carried her scent.
I waited eagerly and she wasn’t gone for too long. I imagined her coming down the stairs wearing a bikini that showed off her breasts and her complete figure. I imagined her stopping at the second to last step of the stairs and holding out her hand to me and asking, “What do you think?” In a sultry voice “do you like it?” I imagined grabbing her hands and pulling her towards me and kissing her on the lips, a deep, long kiss. I imagined that I would answer her that way.
I saw her feet first… she slowly glided down the stairs, each step revealing more and more of her legs. My heart beating louder and louder with each step. Her knees then her thighs, then I saw her black shorts again. She was not wearing the bathing suit. She descended more and I saw the bathing suit hung on a skimpy little hanger as she carried it down. I tried to not let my disappointment show. I was also relieved. What was I thinking? Was I really thinking about kissing Helen? What the hell is wrong with me? Her kids are upstairs.
“Do you like it?” She asked innocently.
“Yeah, it’s cute. I am sure it will look great on you. Where are the kids? I miss them?” I tried to distract myself.
“They are asleep. They were up late last night.” She seemed disappointed at the question.
“You let them stay up late? That’s unlike you.”
“Jack wanted us all to watch a movie together when he got home from work last night.” She sipped her coffee. “He said he wanted to start a new ‘Family movie night’ tradition.” She raised her hand in a single-handed air-quotes. The other hand held the coffee.
“Oh that’s fun.” I eyeballed the bikini lying on the couch next to her. “What movie did you guys…” My phone went off.
It was my older brother. He had let me borrow his car and now he wanted it back because he wanted to go somewhere. He demanded I come home immediately or else he would never let me borrow it again. He was an asshole like that sometimes. I argued with him but I actually welcomed a way out. It suddenly dawned on me what I was doing. There was no justification for what I wondered. She was a married woman, her kids, sleeping upstairs. What did I think was gonna happen? I needed to go and be alone with my dirty thoughts.
I hung up, quickly excused myself, thanked Helen for the coffee. “I will text you” she said.
“Tell the kids I said hi.” I kissed her on the cheeks good bye. Got in my car and drove off.
I wondered about Helen all night.
…
I left Helen’s house that afternoon riddled with guilt and anxiety. Did she notice my confusion? Can she tell I was checking her out? Where were the kids? Were they even home? Did she notice my obvious erection under my basketball shorts? Was she teasing me???
So many questions raced through my mind and I almost crashed my brother’s car on the way home. When I got home, I went into my bedroom and locked the door and wondered about Helen. In my room, my thoughts were amplified. I was scared that I had misinterpreted an innocent situation. After all, she wasn’t WEARING the bathing suit. She just showed me what it looked like. What if she saw my erect cock and that made her uncomfortable? What if she tells Jack and he gets mad at me? What if she tells the pastor? What if she didn’t want to be friends anymore? I hated the wondered of losing her.
Then, my anxiety made me relive the situation. I went over every detail; it was all fresh in my mind. I remembered her legs, her shorts, her toes. I remembered the white shirt and the one the underneath. I remembered her ample breasts bouncing ever so slightly underneath the two shirts as she stood at the sink. I wondered about her coming down the stairs but this time wearing the bikini. I wondered about the long kiss we would distribute and how I would carry her, her legs wrapping around my waist. I wondered about kissing her neck and running my hands on her bare back as she moaned quietly in my ear. I wondered about untying the strings of the bikini top and letting her breasts drop out of them then taking one of her nipples in my mouth as her moans grew louder and louder. I then wondered about setting her down on the kitchen counter and sliding her bottoms to the side and then my cock deep inside her already lubricated pussy as I kissed her shoulders passionately. I saw it all, vividly. I wanted it. I then wondered about carrying her over to the kitchen table. I wondered about laying her on her back and taking her long gorgeous legs on my shoulder. I would thrust into her, slowly at first, then quickly and ferociously. I wanted to make her moan and scream my name. I wanted to yell her name too. Loud enough for her stupid negligent husband to hear. I wanted to kiss her legs as they lay on my shoulders. I wanted to hold her by her feet as I pulled her onto me. I heard her voice, shaky and soft as she quivered and came on my cock. I felt her body shake and tense then relax as she dropped back on the flat kitchen table exhausted from intense pleasure.
No amount of shame or guilt could conquer these thoughts. She was a gorgeous, strong woman and she needed the love and care of a man that cared about her. Her husband wasn’t giving her that. That was the real sin. He ignored her and focused on her work. She was a queen that needed to be adored. Not kept at home to cook and clean and drive kids. That was a much greater transgression than my desire for her.
…
We didn’t text or snap for the next 2 days (which had become out of the normal for us at that point). On the third day, she posted a pic of herself in a first-class seat on a place with the caption, “Off on an adventure”. I remembered that Jack was taking her on a vacation to the Amalfi Coast. What he couldn’t give her in love and attention, he was now trying to provide with money and lavish vacation. But she was clever. She could see right through that.
I didn’t know how long she would be gone so I waited. She usually sent me a text or a picture when she was back to let me know. I waited. I waited for her to send me a picture of her in the bikini with a caption like, “Wish you were here” or “thinking of you” or even “I knew you were wondering what it looked like on me” and I would respond in the affirmative… Only that text never came.
I waited. One week, two, then 3. Nothing. I was getting frustrated. Every time I wondered about Helen, my palms started sweating. One day, after a couple of drinks with Steve, my friend, I decided to reach out. I took a picture of the new Biochem text book I bought in preparation for next semester and captioned it, “I can’t handle this yet. I waited for a response. I looked for the “Helen Whalen is now typing…” but nothing. I waited and drank more with Steve to ease the anxiety. The next morning, I woke up on his couch. I checked my phone; the snap was unopened.
…
When summer was over, I returned to classes. Classes started on Wednesday so I assumed that there would be no Monday rendezvous. Biochem was now smaller, more people had failed Biology II, less than 100 people now left. I was excited to see Helen, only she wasn’t there. I looked and looked again and couldn’t discover her. I couldn’t wait any longer, a coy snap wasn’t enough. I needed to discover what was going on. I pulled out my phone and texted her, “Hi Helen, I hope you are doing OK. I am here in Biochem wondering where you are.”
I waited for a response and again, I got nothing. I was beginning to think the worst. She knew how I felt. She knew I liked her and she didn’t like me back, she couldn’t. She was loyal to her husband despite his shortcomings. That’s the sort of woman Helen was, even though her marriage was far from perfect, she was a loyal mother and wife and would stick by her man for better or for worse. I wished I was her man. I stood up and walked out before class had ended, on my ride home, I shed a few tears.
I skipped my classes the next morning. I turned my alarm off and went back to sleep. I woke up again at noon. I looked at my phone to my surprise a text from Helen,
“Hi, sorry I didn’t respond yesterday, I was out. I am well. It has been a while. I hope you are doing ok too.
I guess I should have told you this a little earlier but I didn’t really get a chance. I was talking was Jack a couple of weeks ago and we decided that it wasn’t a great idea for our family to keep pursuing this medical college dream I had. I can’t go through medical college with two young kids. It’s just unrealistic. You said it yourself. I agree and so does Jack. I withdrew from the Biochem class this semester, but I still have the notes. I will email them to you. It was really fun last semester and I really believe in you and know you are going to be an amazing doctor.”
I was tearing up again. I read the text again. The text was from Helen but Jack’s voice came through. Helen would never speak like that. She was an optimist. She believed in everybody and she believed in herself. She would never give up like that.
But regardless, she went to Italy and she never came back…