Her hair was white and styled short in a very becoming way. Her smile was adorable and she smiled a lot. And I thought that her body was nice for a wo...an in her late thirties. But for some reason, her ever-present dangly earrings turned me on. I would get an erection when I imagined kissing her ears. She'd moan and slip her arms around my neck. Those were the only fantasies I had involving Helen until I was eighteen. That’s when things between us became sexual. We were watching TV one Saturday. I can see her flushed cheeks. I don’t need to see the tiny, swollen peaks of her nipples – stiffened against her hoody – to know I’ve succeeded. I’ve turned her on and I know she hates me for it. Spinning on my feet, my thighs fidget as I try to ignore the throbbing bulge between my thighs. “Is anybody ho-o-o-o-me?!” ‘I swear she’ll be the death of me…’ I whip around. Her hands are cupping her mouth, amplifying her antagonising shout. She looks at me with a wicked, challenging grin, confidently. More

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