Chapter 5: When all my Dime Dancing is Through

I had to wait exactly forty seven minutes. My road home has a very hilly section with no coverage, and my phone beeped to announce a text as soon as I was back in range. Leslie’s text was short and to the point. “Ready now will u come back?” As a responsible road user, I had pulled off the road to read it, and the surge of adrenaline the text produced made me glad I had. “And front” I replied, and looked for a place to turn safely.

I drove back a little faster, and forty minutes later, I pulled up at Leslie’s house. The door was unlocked, and the only light came from Leslie’s bedroom. She was sitting on the side of the bed fully dressed. I didn’t beat about the bush. I sat beside her on the edge of the bed.

“There are some things I know.” I started. “I have been a man for seventy years and for most of that time I have worked inside men’s heads.” Leslie looked tense but determined. “I don’t pretend to know much about the way women work, particularly young women and sex, but I know shitloads about the way guys function.” Leslie looked interested and scared and excited. Various lovers have made me well aware of my tendency towards ‘pompous prickery’, so I tried not to lecture her. And failed!

“All men are biologically programmed to notice signs of puberty, nubility, fertility – all that stuff. There’s also a biologically determined lack of attraction to close relatives, but that is comparatively weak, and the main taboo against incest is social. On a biological level there was no way your Grandad could fail to notice you sexually, but it sounds as though he kept his lustful feelings thoroughly hidden from you, and perhaps even from himself.” I watched Leslie closely. She still seemed tense but perhaps a shade relieved as well.

“That was right and appropriate ... Imagine how messy things would have got and how much more guilt there would be now if there had been even the slightest suggestion of something yucky in his behaviour.”

“There wasn’t.” Leslie was definite, and for a second or two her body seemed to relax a little. “It was almost as if he never noticed the fact that I was a young woman.”

“I would be willing to bet a small fortune that he noticed your development and that he actively and powerfully reacted to your girlfriends’ bodies.” Leslie was thoughtful for a moment and then grinned. Not for the first time, I noticed the way her eyes crinkled at the corners and the tiny freckles on the upper part of her cheeks showed in the light.

“He was sometimes a bit cheesey with my friends, particularly after the time on Rangitoto.”

“I bet the poor old bastard didn’t know where to look” I had a few disconcerting memories of my own. “I’ll also bet that he didn’t miss much, but he was too much a good man and good grandad to ever drool ... In fact it sounds like he handled himself like a gentleman.” Leslie snorted and I looked puzzled. When she saw that I hadn’t intended a joke she cracked up completely, and when I eventually “got it” so did I.

“I never let myself have any sexual thoughts about any of my female rellies, but I enjoyed really explicit fantasies about some of their young friends.” Leslie’s grin took on an edge of excitement and her breathing quickened slightly, but there was anxiety there too, and she diffused it by carrying on the joke.

“Did you handle yourself like a gentleman?” We cracked up again.

“Often.” I became aware of my own excitement and of Leslie’s thigh pressing against mine. We half turned towards each other and slipped into a cuddle which gradually became a clinch. But I wasn’t finished with Grandad. Leslie had invited me back with the promise that she was ready to explore the fantasy, and I certainly had guilty excitement of my own to deal with, so now was the time.

“No one can never know whether your Grandad had sexual fantasies about you, whether he masturbated privately and guiltily with images of you, or whether he just got himself off thinking about some of your friends, but your developing sexuality almost certainly featured in his unconscious and his dreams.” I took a deep breath and a risk. “Perhaps his erection on Rangitoto wasn’t just a ‘piss hard’. Perhaps he was hard when he woke up because he had been dreaming of you!”

“Jesus!” Leslie wasn’t praying, and the emotion in her face and voice was much more carnal than religious. Her body stiffened, her eyes glazed for a second or two, and as her face and body relaxed, I noticed a slight reddening of her neck, and guessed that she had just come without any physical stimulation whatever. I decided to push on.

“Either way, your response at seeing him erect was a completely natural one. Probably you were just responding to the messages his unconscious was putting out.”

It was as if I had thrown a switch. Leslie’s face and body language changed subtly, and I became aware of my own very strong turn on in response. I guessed that the quality of her arousal had changed as she started to absorb the possibility that her Grandad had had the hots for her too.

“Do lots of men have the hots for young girls and hide it?” I wasn’t sure whether her question was a diversion away from her issues with Grandad, a come on, a quest for information, or all three.

“Yup. I was a teacher in my early 20s, and most of the young guys on the staff were attracted to the female students. Not even a big dose of duty, honour, and professional. responsibility could stop me fantasising about budding breasts and nubile bodies. But I never drooled or leered or did anything even slightly yucky.” Leslie snuggled closer and began to toy with the buttons of my shirt.

“I bet they knew though.” She purred, and I became acutely aware of her mons against my thigh. “I bet some of them turned on to their teacher and got so wet.” She squirmed a little, and I heard rather than felt my own breathing quicken. “Wet patches on their panties.” Leslie watched me closely, observing my response. I didn’t have much – panties have never been my thing, and Leslie evidently picked that up and immediately changed tack. “And under them – pretty little pussies - so so wet and slippery!” I moaned and started to hump her stomach none too subtly. She got the message.

“Ooh sir you’ve got me so so wet” she whispered, stroking the hair on my chest. “If you slid your hand down my pants, you could feel me. I’m so juicy and slippery. You could slip a finger inside me Sir ... but just one ... I’m so slippery but I’m very tight!” Leslie had clearly got my number, and for a second or two I thought I was going to come in my chinos up against her belly. She pulled away.

‘Not here in Maths sir!” Her tone was a convincing imitation of a sensible thirteen year old Class Captain, and on some level I immediately became the conscientious young teacher, though the boner straining the front of my trousers pleaded otherwise. I pulled back and collected myself. A bit anyway. And Leslie switched roles again, right back into horny young schoolgirl.

“You could still help me with these Maths problems sir. You could come round to my place tonight to coach me. My parents won’t be home” She gave me a wicked leer. “I could wear a long skirt and leave my pants off and when I get really wet you’ll be able to smell me!”

She was doing my head in, so I just went for it.

“And taste you too” I whispered. Leslie squirmed back inside my arm and began to tremble just a little, so I went on. “I’ve been watching you in Maths all year Leslie, noticing the way your nipples are starting to poke against your blouse, and wondering how they would feel between my lips.” My hand found its way to her stomach and then under her blouse. By now we were both panting and her nipples were rock hard. I started to move my head down so that I could lift her blouse and reach them with my mouth. Long before I got there, Leslie began to moan and wriggle her mons against me again.

“I’ve been smelling your turn on and wondering how you would taste all year, and I’ve been looking at your thighs and wanting to stroke them, looking at your mound and wondering how your pubes are shaped, wondering how your pussy looks, wondering whether your inner lips swell and poke out when you juice up.” I reached out with my other hand to cup her buttocks to pull her towards me. Leslie moaned and wriggled some more. “You’re a very bad girl to tease your Maths teacher!”

“But it’s so exciting sir.” She looked at me shrewdly for a second and dropped her voice to a whisper as she continued. “I’ve seen you looking at my nipples and it makes me ache in my crotch ... I haven’t got much hair there, but I know you like young girls like that. I’ve got just a little bit of hair on the centre of my pubes and below that there’s just a tight little bowl of warm jelly between my legs. All tender and slick, and aching to feel your cock slipping into me.”