Jim and Petra
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2010 by Tedbiker

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 5 - This is the conclusion of the story of the relationship between Jim, the Son of Martha, and Petra, the young woman who loved him and drew him out of 'nerd-dom'

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

I was a little nervous about telling my parents that I was wanting to move out and get a place to live with Petra. They'd colluded with Su's parents, admittedly, but they had a good reason. I thought they might have objections to us moving in together before we were married. I was quite wrong. They just looked at each other and smiled.

"Don't be in too much of a rush," Dad said; you never know what might turn up!"

I nodded and went upstairs. Unpacking my bag, I dumped most of the contents in the laundry basket before firing up the computer and sitting in front of it ... unenthusiastically. I logged on to the internet and checked my emails. At least, I looked at the subjects, but then it occurred to me I could begin looking for properties to rent.

It was not encouraging. I was still a student, though I was getting a salary from Jones Bros. - they were keen to keep me — but the cheapest rentals were over half my salary. I had a little saved, but until I was employed full time I wasn't going to qualify for a mortgage. Not if I was going to buy anything bigger than a garden shed, anyway.

Dispirited, I turned to my research, but my heart wasn't in it, and I didn't achieve much. In all likelihood, I knew, I would be re-writing anything I'd done. I slumped and began day-dreaming about Petra. At some point I realised that I wasn't imagining the hands massaging my shoulders and reached up to press my hands over hers; Petra stretched over and kissed me as I looked back at her.

"Mum said come down, supper is ready." When did Petra start calling my mother Mum?

"Not that I'm not pleased to see you again, but what are you doing here?"

"Telling you it's time to eat, silly!"

It was quite obvious that she wasn't going to tell me anything else, so I rose and followed her downstairs. All through the meal, it was obvious she was bubbling over with some news she wasn't letting on about.

"All right," I said, once we'd finished eating and were sitting sipping our tea or coffee, "You're holding out some juicy info, I know. Are you going to give, or try to torture me further by making me wait?"

She took pity on me, or maybe couldn't hold it in any longer.

"The good news ... is that my Uncle Bill and Aunt Sally are going to America. Bill's got some sort of exchange with a counterpart in America, and they're going for at least two years. They want someone to look after their house in Crystal Peaks. It's two bedrooms, with a double garage, and only a few yards from a tram-stop..."

The so-called Super-Tram is a Sheffield feature of which I thoroughly approve; it's smooth, frequent and usually very reliable. It was very unpopular when the track was being laid and the overhead wires installed, as it created enormous disruption, but now is heavily used for access to Meadowhall, Middlewood and Crystal Peaks, with branches to Malin Bridge and Hackenthorpe.

"And the bad news?"

"It's not available for two weeks..."

I shrugged. "It'll be tough, but I'm sure we can live that long ... It's a blessing, anyway; I was looking at properties to let, but they were all horribly expensive, and we'd still have had to wait."

I looked at her, and could see there was more to come, but she giggled, and looked at Mum and Dad. Dad spoke up.

"We've been talking things over with the Wilsons. We feel the two of you will be less distracted if you're both living in the same place. You will be moving to the Wilsons' in a couple of days. In the meantime, Petra is staying here."

I was gobsmacked as we say in Yorkshire. I think I probably blushed, but then I thought of Su staying with me. I suppose both Petra and my parents guessed what was going through my mind, because they didn't say anything else to me for a few minutes, instead chatting together about inconsequential things — the hotel in Bayswater, London in general, the alterations to St. Pancras' for the Eurostar service, and so on. After a few minutes, I joined in.

Bedtime could have been embarrassing but Mum and Dad took themselves off to bed rather earlier than they would usually do. Petra came to me, and we just held each other. Time stopped...

"Do you know whose idea it was?"

She shook her head. "I suspect my mother," she told my chest.

"Well, I'm grateful," I said, stroking her back. "Shall we?"


Two weeks passed quickly. I can't say I got over being embarrassed entirely, but, well, it was worth it.

The move to Crystal Peaks was no big deal; just books, clothes and computers, really. Even so, it was two trips with the Morris. Having to look after ourselves was a bit of a shock to the system, though. We could both cook — to some extent, at least: we could both work the washing machine. But after the initial excitement there were occasional problems when one or other of us forgot to plan a meal, or the washing, or some other routine essential ... and we had words. Always, however, we'd sorted it out before bedtime, and making love afterwards was all the sweeter.

The wedding ... well, it was a wedding. We both felt it had to be St. Matthew's and Father Henry rather than Petra's families' parish church. Petra looked ... indescribably wonderful and I had no doubt I was the luckiest chap ... possibly in the world, certainly in Sheffield. We were both deeply moved, I think — certainly I was — that Susheela's parents accepted our invitation and came; afterwards at the reception her father shook my hand, her mother hugged me, and both wished us every blessing; I saw them with Petra shortly after. My eyes prickled, but there was too much going on for me to have time to brood over past sadness.

We honeymooned in Conwy, North Wales. At least, that was our base. We were sufficiently used to being together at that point that we were willing to play tourist. So we rode the Snowdon Mountain Railway and the Ffestiniog railway, but also Petra persuaded me to walk, and I learned that watching birds could be fascinating — particularly the Red Kites, Buzzards and Choughs. Choughs, by the way, are a sort of crow — Jackdaw sized, but with a bright red curved beak.

Back in Sheffield we both had to really get stuck in to research for our degrees; time was running out. Not that we couldn't have got extensions, but we needed to get established in relatively secure work so we could get a mortgage and buy a house when Petra's Aunt and Uncle returned from the States. The year after we were married was very hard work. It was not unusual for one of us to be asleep when the other fell into bed, and to wake up alone in the morning.

The new process was working and the MD was delighted — he told me to 'slow down and look after your lovely wife'. My supervisor told me my doctorate was in the bag and to relax a bit, so I tried to take some more of the load at home. Petra was apologetic. She was studying, working part time at a local psychiatric unit and she'd taken on some teaching. One of her options was going to be teaching, though she wanted to do at least some psychotherapy. It was necessary for her to attend various social gatherings within the University community. As often as possible, I accompanied her.

In due course, we both graduated and were proudly photographed in our gowns. The pressure was off us for the moment, and we were able for the first time in ... was it really four years? As I began to say, we were able to take in some classic car and bike rallies. We decided to alternate, bike and car, rather than separating. For me, one of life's great pleasures is the combination of riding my Norton, with the pressure of Petra's body behind mine and her arms around my middle.

We began looking around for a house; with Petra's uncle and aunt due back that autumn, it was becoming pressing. The recession was in full swing; we were very lucky to have good prospects. My salary was now very respectable, and Petra was getting paid for lecturing as well as clinical work in mental health services. Our requirements were a little unusual; I definitely didn't want a house without a garage, in fact we really needed one with a double garage, and that is only common in the up-market areas. The recession meant that house prices were low, but it also meant people were reluctant to sell.

We found one in Beauchief, a three-bedroom detached with a separate double garage... 'in need of some modernisation'. In other words, in a bit of a state. We thought it had potential, and after all, I had many of the skills necessary and could acquire any that I needed. The vendors were getting a bit desperate and accepted a lower figure than I had feared. It was just in time ... we had a month in which to get the house rewired and the gas central heating replaced. I wasn't about to tackle something that needed legal certification. Of course, we had virtually no furniture and the house needed redecorating. We got the kitchen fixed — we could eat in there for the time being; we probably would have anyway — and we got the master bedroom decorated and carpeted. We bought a new bed; king-sized, we had plenty of room, after all, and started frequenting auction rooms for wardrobes and so on. It was fun.

It was obviously going to take a long time to get the house squared away, and we didn't get too worried about it, tackling one room at a time, gradually acquiring bits and pieces of furniture. It was a sort of eclectic muddle, that certainly wouldn't have suited the sort of person that has a new bathroom every five years and redecorates every year, but it suited us ... we were happy, or so I thought. I suppose most marriages go a bit flat after a year or so. I did wonder if perhaps we ... or I ... should put in more effort to do things together.

I had to go to a conference in Newcastle. Why Newcastle? I don't know; probably because the University there put in a good bid for the facilities needed. Petra was supposed to attend one of her Uni socials; it was important as she was still after a permanent post with the University. I was unlikely to be back in time to go with her. I had decided to ride the Norton; I could take a respectable outfit or two in panniers and backpack. It was a bit of a treat; Wednesday morning start, Friday evening finish.

 
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