Zoe
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2011 by Tedbiker

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 5 - A shivering, under dressed teenager on a service area exit road; a travelling sales-rep (with a background he couldn't discuss) who didn't realise he was lonely.(This was going to be 'The Hitch-hiker', but she wasn't really hitching... until...)

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

That was ... Wednesday, I think. The weekend – Saturday would be the first of March. I procrastinated until Friday night before dialling the number Colonel Trafford gave me.

"Hello?" The familiar tones ... how could they be familiar? I hadn't heard them for a year. She sounded uncertain. "Hello?" She repeated herself when I didn't speak immediately.

"Zoe ... it's Alex."

"Alex?" I can't quite describe how she said my name, but her tone changed in the course of the two syllables from uncertainty to unbelieving, desperate hope.

"It's me," I said.

"ALEX?" There was a clunk and then silence.,

At the time I could only wonder. Afterwards, I found out she'd dropped the phone on the hall table and run to ask her mother if it was okay to talk to me.

"Oh, yes," Marjory said casually, "your father and I had a chat about it and decided it would be okay for you to see him, if he called. We just didn't want you pursuing him."

"MOTHER! Were you going to let me know about this decision?"

"Only if the occasion arose. I take it he's on the phone now? Don't you think you should go and talk to him? He'll be wondering what's going on."

Zoe opened her mouth to protest again before realising her mother was right and ran back to the phone.

"Alex..." I heard; quiet, almost breathed. But then, I heard the unmistakable sound of crying. "Alex, is it really you?" her voice distorted by her tears.

"It's really me," I said as calmly as I could.

"Why..."

"I wondered if you'd like to do something with me tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Just, yes? Don't you mind what we do?"

"Well ... she drawled, having apparently recovered her equilibrium, her voice dropping, "I'd quite like to drag you off to bed..." her voice returned to normal, "but I'll sit and watch paint dry as long as I'm with you."

"I don't think that was on my list of possible things to do. Is there anything you'd particularly like?"

"If bed isn't on the list, could we go to the zoo, please?"

I was a bit surprised, but that sounded okay.

"Pick you up between nine and nine-thirty?"

"Nearer nine than nine thirty, please."

"Tell your mother we'll be out for lunch."

"Okay!"

Having taken the plunge, all I had left to do was worry.

It was hard getting to sleep, but I was still awake at the crack of dawn. In early March, of course, that's only about seven. You can be sure I was up, showered, dressed and breakfasted by eight and on the A12 soon after. Which was pretty silly as I was near Zoe's home by not much after eight thirty, sitting and listening to the radio.

Zoe opened the door and launched herself at me. You know those sci-fi films where two people sort of merge together into one being? She'd have done that if she could. As it was, she did a good job of moulding herself to me. Some time later she let go and I got a good look at her. In t-shirt and slacks, it was apparent she'd developed since I'd last seen her. Still slim, though no longer scrawny, I thought the best adjective I could come up with was 'lissom' as she took my hand and pulled me toward the kitchen. Marjory was clearing the table at which the Colonel was sitting in BDUs. Looking at him as I entered, he looked up and ... I could swear he ... winked at me? Surely not...

"Alex..." he said, "I can call you Alex?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

I thought I detected a slight smile. He didn't offer to let me address him by his first name. Had he been a civilian, I'd have called him 'Mr. Trafford'. 'Colonel Trafford' was a bit of a mouthful.

"I should not be here, really, but I thought I'd wait to say hello to you and use it as an excuse for an extra cup of coffee and an hour with my family. I just wanted to welcome you to our home ... which I think Zoe has already done more effectively?" He raised an eyebrow quizzically and I smiled in acknowledgement, "and say, have a good day out. Oh ... and I hope you'll join us for dinner before you go home this evening."

"Thank you," I managed, before Zoe dragged me out of the room.

"Just a minute," she said, "I'll need more clothes on than this."

"You will," I acknowledged, it's ... pretty nippy out there."

Dressed, she followed me out to the car.

"What happened to the BMW?"

"Went with the job. In both senses. I had a rental Almera for a while until I got this one. People sneer at Vauxhalls, but I've always found them reliable and economical. I'm not much interested in show. Do you mind?"

"Heavens, no!"

I opened the door for her and she slid in and buckled up. On the way to the zoo, she chattered; about school, about her friends, Colchester...

We got to the zoo, paid, and walked in. She slipped her hand into mine, and fell silent as we wandered round. Zoos have changed over the years; they're more about education and conservation than tickling the curiosity of the public, though that's still a factor of course. We stopped here and there to read the informative signs about the difficulties this or that animal faced. After – what, half an hour or so? Zoe turned to me, looking serious.

"You're not saying much, Alex."

"I'm just enjoying your company."

"Really? Is that all? I think it's time for a snack, Alex."

We found the cafeteria and got her a pot of tea, me a large cup of black coffee which I sipped while trying to find the right words.

"Zoe, before I met you, I couldn't really have a meaningful relationship with any woman; I was moving around so much I didn't have the time. The job I was doing ... well, I couldn't talk about it. That didn't sit well with the one or two ladies I did get to know. At first, I was just dedicated to doing the job, then ... it became a habit, I suppose..." When I paused, I looked at her; she was watching me, head slightly tilted, a neutral expression on her face, just waiting to see where I was going. "Then ... I met you. You made me think ... about my life, where I was going with it. You don't need to know the details – if you're really bothered I'll tell you one day – but I decided I didn't want to carry on as I had been. So, I am now self employed and no longer rushing around the country. I'm trying to put together a life that makes sense to me..."

When I paused, I half expected her to say something, but she didn't. She just reached across the table and laid her hand on mine. It was soft and warm ... and somehow comforting.

"When I left you, Zoe, it was ... very hard to walk away from you." I looked at her and our eyes ... locked together. "That was before I made up my mind to change my life, but it was a part of the reason I did. I thought ... I ... couldn't at the time give you the commitment you deserved, that I was too old for you, that ... you needed to have time and space to put yourself together."

This time when I paused, she squeezed my hand and said, "And you needed time and space to ... work out your own feelings."

I nodded and smiled. "Exactly. Although, I'm still doing that. What I will say is ... since I left you, there's hardly been a moment when I you weren't in my thoughts. I've dated some lovely ladies, but none of them make me feel the way you do. None of them filled the space in my life the way you do. But, Zoe, I don't want you to be ... tied to me, out of ... obligation..."

Her face lit up with a lovely smile as I was speaking, but she didn't say anything. Having finished our snack, we headed out again. I don't remember much about that time, except at some point we were standing watching something ... some sort of lizard, I think. She was half in front of me and leaning back against me. I found myself stroking her hair and she pressed her head back against my hand. She twisted round, reached up and pulled my head down for a kiss, which lasted ... and lasted. When we broke for air, I was about to speak when she did the same again. When, breathless, we broke again, she took my hand and pressed it against her chest, just under her breast. I could feel her heart thumping despite several layers of clothes.

 
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