It's a Man Thing
Chapter 11

Copyright© 2010 by Tedbiker

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 11 - He's asked for advice and gives it, and finds himself involved more deeply than he expected.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Slow  

I wouldn't say life was routine, but we settled down. We went to church again Sunday morning and we, well I, were a bit more used to what was going on. Greg's sermon was more people stuff. He was talking about how people get things wrong and do things wrong; for all sorts of reasons but usually connected with selfishness and/or greed, and how that was a part of being human, but a relationship with God meant we had to be honest with Him and ourselves which went right against our normal way of doing things. I'd never really thought about it ... it made me think. After the service we stayed for coffee and chatted to one or two people. They seemed friendly. There was a point, though, when Greg was talking to a couple not far from us; they were giving him a hard time over his sermon. He handled them pretty well and was a lot more patient with them than I would have been, I think.

Philippa was back living at Rossington Road; we still hadn't sorted out who would live where and so on. I thought in the end Helen would keep the house on and Philippa would live there; perhaps get a house mate or two. We didn't see her until Thursday when she joined us for supper; she was full of her evening with Raimondo ... they were going to meet up at Uni sometimes and she definitely wanted to see him again.

I started a sort of 'Autumn cleaning' trying to make more space and clear out some clutter – not to mention evicting a few spiders. I went through my bookshelves and removed several boxes full of books I hadn't taken down from the shelves in years. I went through them later with Helen, just in case there was something there she might want – there wasn't – and they all went to Oxfam. Once I was on a roll, I cleaned the windows – the inside, that is, including the double-glazing. Mine is secondary glazing, you see – no uPVC allowed in my house.

Helen and I cooked turn-and-turn about, but I did most of the washing-up, since I was in the house most of the day, most days.

The big day loomed, and Helen stayed Friday night at Rossington Road. I've never really understood the logic there, but it wasn't exactly a hardship. Besides, Doug stayed with me and we sat sipping Glenfiddich until quite late, reminiscing.

"You know, Ted," he commented after a while, "Kathy and you had a good marriage, and you obviously loved each other. Nobody could have cared more for her towards the end and I know losing her was a blow..."

I looked at him, nodded, and wondered where he was going.

"This isn't a criticism," he said, "it's a comment. You and Helen seem to have something more, though, don't you think?"

"Yes," I said, "I do think so. I don't know how, or why, but yes."

"Don't feel guilty about it," he said gently, "You're very lucky, both of you. There's not many couples have what you two have; it's not something you can create, it's either there or it isn't ... but ... you need to work at keeping it and strengthening it. I hope you don't think I'm contradicting myself?"

I nodded again, "I know I'm lucky. Lucky to have had a lovely, loyal, loving wife in Katherine, and twice lucky to have found Helen."

"That's enough seriosity," he said. "I want some more of your Scotch, then I want to go get some sleep before we get really maudlin."

I laughed. "You're on!"


When I got to the church with Doug, I was in for a surprise. Linda had rounded up nine colleagues I'd worked with at various times – six female, three male – and asked if I minded having a few more added to the meal after the ceremony.

"I had a word with Helen," she said, with a dimpled smile, "and she doesn't mind at all; there are three of her co-workers to add, too. Everyone wanted to come, Ted. Oh, I tipped the wink to the Rutland, by the way, and there isn't a problem for them."

That came as a bit of a shock, I have to say, but I was touched – I didn't realise anyone cared about me.

"I'll be glad for them to come." I said.

The wedding – what can I say? Helen wore a long, dark green, dress and looked incredible. Philippa was in a pale spring-green dress; as I said before, they could have been sisters. Helen promised to 'obey' – which I hadn't expected – when I asked later ;

"What can I say? I'm an old-fashioned girl."

Greg spoke briefly and movingly about working at being in love, and honesty, and facing problems together. The choir was good, as was the organist, though I was a little taken aback as we left the church; he played 'Wedding day at Troldhaugen' on the piano, rather than the organ.

At the reception – I think it's reasonable to call it that, though I hadn't really expected there to be one – everyone was ... I can't put it into words adequately. Helen was complimented until she was blushing hard and looked wonderful. As for me, I'll recount just one incident. Sara (I mentioned her) said, "I hadn't realised you were available, or I'd have been after you myself." I was fairly taken aback by that, I have to say.

It was a great time, and I was grateful to Linda for organising it.

Helen and I changed into travel clothes that were comfortable and warm, packed a bag each, and Doug drove us to the station.

It's less than three hours to London by train, usually. I discovered several years ago that, if I really had to go to the City, the best way to pass the time was with my lap-top; I could write, play solitaire, listen to CDs, and to give the machine a rest, look out of the window. Recently trains have been introduced that have power points for lap-tops. If you're really bothered, there is mobile internet. Helen insisted I take my laptop – she had a little one that she used to read e-books. I was surprised that she suggested it, but she pointed out we'd been living together for weeks, there wasn't all that much we didn't know about each other, and if we ran out of things to talk about it was as well to have the computers. As it turned out, we found plenty to talk about and the machines stayed in their cases.

The hotel was near Hyde Park. It was as quiet as any London Hotel could be, not expensive and not offering great luxury, but very comfortable, very welcoming and very friendly. Not to mention helpful; they told us of various local spots where live music was available; one evening, we listened to live jazz, another, a Celtic evening which included some harp, fiddle, pipe and bodhrán with a very sweet-voiced young lady. Helen was particularly affectionate after the latter.

 
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