John had been doing some paperwork until late, very late, and was driving home in the heavy rain. He was taking it slowly as there was a lot of standing water, and the wipers only gave brief views of the road ahead. He passed a bus shelter and caught sight of a woman who looked very bedraggled and not at all dressed for the weather, he thought he recognised her.
Jenny was in distress and upset, regretting that her mobile phone lay forgotten at home. She had been dumped on the side of the road by her very recently ex boyfriend, and the buses had already stopped. The heavens had opened and soaked her with miles to go before she was home. Ain't life grand.
A car passed, slowed and then stopped. It began to reverse and Jenny was torn between the thought of salvation and a weirdo.
The car stopped in front of her and a vaguely familiar face appeared over the roof as the driver called to her from half way out of his door.
“Hi. John, from the Blacksmiths Arms. Looks like you need a lift?”
Jenny managed to place him as a casual barman that she'd really only ever spoken to when ordering drinks, he could still be a weirdo, but he had always seemed a harmless quiet guy, so she gave serious thought to his offer.
“Here, you can hold my credit card if you like. Then if I try anything you have my details. Come on, it's damp out here,” he claimed, smiling.
Jenny took one look at her clothes, the rain soaked cardigan clinging to her light summer frock made her mind up for her and she climbed gratefully into the car. John passed her the card and told her not to worry about the seat, it had seen worse. She could believe it, the car, an Astra, was not the fanciest she'd ever seen, but it was dry. He reached into the back and pulled a towel from a hold all.
“It's not fresh I'm afraid, but it will stop the water running from your hair into your eyes,” he said as he gave her the towel.
“Thank you so much. I'm Jenny by the way, thanks for stopping.”
“My pleasure, but if you don't mind me asking..."
“I know, what was I doing out there like this? My now very ex boyfriend didn't like it when I refused to stop talking to my other friends, we had a big row, and when I said I didn't need him to justify my existence he decided he didn't need me as ballast. So here I am. Thanks again for stopping,” she explained as she dried her shoulder length blond hair.
John noticed how Jenny was near to tears as she spoke, and wondered at the way some blokes could be so bloody awkward at times. It gave all men a bad name.
“Well then it's a good job I'm here, a barman's just what you need, next best thing to a therapist.”
That got a smile. “You don't mind if I don't lay down at this point do you?” Jenny asked in jest. “Only I'm not sure this is a real therapist's office.”
“No that's fine. So, where to me lady?”
John knew the road she named and set off again, careful in the still heavy rain.
“It really is very kind of you, look, I don't need this card, really,” and she put it down by the hand brake.
They were quickly at Jenny's one bedroom maisonette, and sensing her need to talk, John accepted her invitation for coffee. Jenny's initial fear had been replaced by a need for company and despite the late hour, John was available and from what she could see, willing to listen.
Jenny showed him the kitchen where he made tea while she got her slim five foot six frame into pyjamas and a thick dark blue bath robe. They sat on the three seater sofa, mugs on a low table, and John encouraged her to talk.
Jenny liked her men to be interesting, not exactly in your face, but outgoing with pastimes like motor cycle racing, climbing or diving. In short, she usually preferred the adventurous type. Unfortunately, she always picked one that had to show off a bit too. She'd been an arm decoration a couple of times, and that always meant a short relationship. At 31 she felt she should have at least been in a steady relationship for some time, if not married.
“Who says when we should marry, have kids, get a dog and grow our own tomatoes,” John said.
“Sorry?” Jenny suddenly realised he'd not said a word for over forty minutes while she prattled on. His statement caught her out.
“Where does it say how old we should be when certain things occur? Why rush to find what you think you need? There's no panic, and you will find a nice bloke one day, you're quite attractive you know, and you have a great personality.”
“Have you got someone?” Jenny queried, wondering what his store of worldly knowledge was built on.
“Not right now. I gave up chasing skirt some time back. I guess if a girl is interested she'll tell me, no point pushing myself in where I'm not really wanted and wasting time and effort.”
He was 33, plain, average, never pushy behind the bar yet always polite and friendly. Jenny could see how he wouldn't attract women from within a crowd, but on his own he was, well he could listen, and when he spoke he made sense. Maybe he's a thinker she decided, not a doer.
“You know,” Jenny said in a serious manner, “I like that! Maybe I should do the same, and sort of play harder to get, no teasing, I mean, well...”
“You mean let the bloke court you as my Mum would say, rather than impress you with his muscles and his toys, look for one that charms you and treats you like a lady?”
“Yes, that's it! That's what I was trying to say. Pick the less showy ones that don't come at me so strong. John, you sir, are a marvel."
“Like I said, next best thing to a therapist is your actual barman. Cheaper too.”
Later, Jenny asked herself why he'd not tried anything on, her being vulnerable and all. Was it really because he didn't chase skirt, or was she damaged goods. She had told him how all her relationships went bad after all. Some of it must be her fault. She glanced at the piece of paper where he'd jotted down his telephone number, he said it was in case she wanted to talk again.
It was just over two weeks later that they met again, this time it was in the fruit section of the super market. Jenny noticed John first and gently pushed her trolley into his, making them clang.
“Oh typical woman driver,” John quipped when he recognised her. “Can't even drive a trolley without crashing.”
“Typical man, parked in the wrong place,” she shot back with a grin.
“So, what's new good lookin'?” he asked.
“Nothing really, just grabbing a few things on my way home. You?”
“Same, working tonight, the Blacksmith.”
“In that case, I'll be in, I owe you a drink,” Jenny stated firmly.
“Great, see you there. Must rush, sorry.”
Jenny did buy him a drink that night, and several other nights when he was working. Over the next three months their relationship slipped into a sort of no man's land, they met the odd time in the super market or the pub, but never had anything in common to chat about.
Jenny had a brief few dates with one guy that led nowhere, but that was followed by Guy. Guy was tall, dark, good looking, and windsurfed. Not so forward as her previous boyfriends, he was nonetheless a confident and outgoing type, and she liked him.
John saw Jenny walk out of the Tesco car park and head off carrying what looked like four heavy bags of shopping. He was on his way home from the office where he worked as an electronic component salesman. She had not long finished marking work at the school where she taught. He pulled over and honked.
“Need a lift lady?” he asked though the driver side window.
“Oh John, my hero. Thanks, my car's in for it's M.O.T.”
It was a two minute drive and Jenny offered him tea. Accepting, John carried three of the bags in for her and watched as she made the teas and she put away the shopping.
“So what's new?” she asked as she poured the hot water.
“Not a lot, same old same old. How's your love life?”
“Better, thank you. Guy found me, I did as we said and let him do the hunting, and it worked. He's really nice.”
“Good, about time. So what's the exciting part of him then?”
Jenny was surprised he'd remembered the details of their first talk, and said so as she carried the mugs through to the sofa.
“Well that's what therapists do,” he joked.
“Well, Guy windsurfs. We go together sometimes and I can sit on the beach and watch him, or sometimes we go to the old docks and I can see him from the cafe.”
“That's it, you just watch?”
“Well, I don't really fancy the idea of whizzing about on a board out it the wind, but it's fun to watch, especially when he falls off. Not often, but he does now and then.”
“Do you do anything, some sort of activity?”
“Not really, I jog a bit, but no, not really.”
“Oh well, so long as you're happy, and I trust you are?”
“Yes, I am thanks, and thanks for being interested. We ought to chat more often really, I like it.”
“Well, you have my number, call me if you like.”
Jenny had in fact lost his number a few weeks previously, the paper slip had been tidied away at some point and was now in the sort of safe place that one can never find again. This time, they swapped numbers into their phones, and John left shortly after.
A month went by with a couple of quick meetings in the shops and the pub before John caught sight of Jenny at the Blacksmiths arms. This time he wasn't working but was a customer drinking with a couple of friends about his own age. He caught up with her at the bar.
“Hello good lookin', how are you?” he asked.
“Oh, you can come round this side then? Fine thanks, you?”
“Yes, just hanging with the guys sort of thing. You know, boy talk.”
“I'm here with Guy, that's him over there.”
John looked over to where Jenny pointed to see Guy talking to another man, unaware he was being observed. Jenny saw John's face cloud over and his eyes harden.
“What's wrong John?” she had to ask.
“Oh, erm, nothing. Really.”
“No it's not. Not nothing. I've never known you look at anyone like that, not even an awkward customer, so what is it?”
“Not now Jenny. Not here. Look, call me later, when you get home, or tomorrow if you like. OK?”
“Okay,” she said slowly, concerned and a little confused.
They both went back to their own tables and just waved goodbye later as Jenny and Guy left. John felt bad but it was too late now. He was a bit surprised that Jenny didn't call until lunch time the next day.
“So, come on John, what got to you about Guy last night?” Jenny almost demanded, worried that she'd picked another man that was going to disappoint her.
“Look, I'm sorry, It's not really my business, I don't want to get in the middle of something, but, well...”
“Go on, I promise I won't get mad at you.”
“I've seen Guy twice in the last week with a brunette on his arm, and they were very, very, friendly, not brother and sister friendly, you know?”
“Oh shit! I've done it again! That explains a couple of things. It's all right John, I'm glad you told me. Thanks.”
“Sorry, but you will find one, one day.”
“Yeah, I know. Look, I have to go, but I'll give you a call, OK?”
“OK, catch you soon.”
The call was three weeks later, and it wasn't just a call.
“John, fancy a cup of tea?”
It was a Saturday afternoon and John's wash day. Any excuse to put it off was a good one, but Jenny sounded a bit low, so he would have gone anyway. He was there in twenty minutes.
Mugs on the table and again on the three seat sofa, Jenny let it out.
“I had a date two nights ago, he was a pillock. He was after one thing and because he couldn't get it he got snotty and rude. John, my girl friends tell me the same as you, but I just don't know how to pick the good ones. You're the only decent bloke I can talk to, you've never tried anything, and you listen really well. From a male perspective, what am I doing wrong?”
John sipped his tea, giving him time to think before he spoke.
“Stop dating,” he finally said with conviction.
“Stop dating. Give it a rest. Leave off the men. They bring you down, disappoint you, leave off them for a bit. Why pressure yourself? A woman without a man is just independent, not on the shelf. In time something will happen and things will take off again.”
“So just leave my love life up in the air for now?” she said, as if asking for conformation.
“Yes if you like. Give it time, and do stuff for yourself instead of watching others do their thing. Find something of your own.”
“And that's the male point of view?”
“It's mine, and I'm a male. So yes.”
Jenny took a while to get used to the idea, but decided it made sense. A month later they ran into each other while shopping again, and she told John, over coffee in the Tesco cafe`, that she had a hobby.
“You do what?” he asked, incredulous.
“I work in a wine bar, bar staff, same as you.”
“I was thinking more like sky diving or something, but I suppose it's social at least.”
“That's the whole point, and it pays, badly, but how many hobbies gain you money? You've never said what you do! Where are your evenings spent when you're not in the pub?”
“Well, since you ask, I'm with the air cadets, I help out.”
“Like what?” she wanted to know.
“Well, paper work, that's how I picked you up that first night, catching up with stuff. But there's all sorts, we take them shooting, climbing, do sports ...”
“But you never said!” Jenny interrupted and suddenly saw the man in a very different light.
“You never asked, it never really came up.”
“I think it did! I'm sure it did!” she claimed.
“Not really, not to do with me. Honest.”
“I am thoroughly displeased with you sir for keeping that to yourself. Why let people think you're just a wall flower when you do all that?”
“No reason they need to know. Like I said once before, if some one's interested, they'll let me know, and if they ask things, I might tell them.”
“So what title do you have then, chief cadet or some thing?”
“Flying Officer, it's a rank not a job. I help run a Squadron but it's really just a title, nothing much, very low down, and not like the R.A.F. Although it sort of is, ish. It's complicated.”
Jenny began to think of John in a different way from then on. He was, in fact, the sort of bloke she'd dated before in some ways, but without all the front, the showing off and in your face bit. Yet he could blend into the back ground and vanish from your life like a shadow, did that make him not boyfriend material? Did she really need a man that shone out? Was she growing in some way? She gave it a lot of thought.
The following week John called Jenny, on the Thursday evening.
“Hello John, what a nice surprise, what can I do for you?”
“Well, I thought after our last little chat, perhaps you'd like to see what I do with my weekends when I'm not with the cadets.”
“Ooo, sounds interesting. Just what do you do?”
“Ah, well, if you're ready for me to pick you up at half eight on Saturday morning, you'll find out.”
“Oh, um,” Jenny was a bit surprised at the invitation, and also that she found herself more than a little interested. “Yes I'd love to find out! Half eight?”
“Yes, and dress for windy. Trousers or jeans too!”
“Come on, tell me, what are we doing?”
“See you Saturday.” he said, and hung up, leaving her wondering what she had just agreed to.
On the day, Jenny was ready early, in jeans, sweat shirt and puffer jacket ready to put on. She had breakfasted and was sitting waiting when the phone rang. It was John.
“Be there in ten minutes, ready?” he asked.
“And waiting, I'll meet you outside.”
Jenny put her coat on the back seat. John would give her no clue as to where they were going and so they ended up just chatting, music, food, films and the like, and all the while Jenny was still trying to come up with some idea of what she'd let herself in for. She trusted John not to stitch her up, she could only hope she was right.
At around ten o'clock John pulled off the main road and down a country lane. A light aircraft went over them and Jenny watched as it went so low it dropped behind the tree line.
“We're going flying!” she stated.
“Yes, but not in one of those things, we'll be in a real aeroplane, one with more wings than that one just now.”
As they pulled into the grass covered airfield Jenny saw more than a dozen planes standing about with possibly more in the sheds, or hangers as John corrected her. He wouldn't tell her which aircraft they were going in, but he did tell her that he was going to fly it himself.
“Your a pilot, with the cadets?”
“No, private license, I had that before the cadets, totally separate. I can't fly military stuff.”
Jenny asked a number of questions while John sorted out the paperwork and checked a few vital items like the weather. She was more intrigued now than ever.
Eventually, John said it was time to get their coats from the car and go fly. His coat was in the boot and looked like a world war one flyer's coat to Jenny. All fur cuffs, collar, and leather. He also passed her a leather flying helmet that again, to Jenny, looked to be from the first world war.
Walking out to the aeroplane John had rented from the club, he explained a few things to her;
“Now, we won't be using parachutes, we'll have cushions on the seats.”
“Do what?” Jenny exclaimed.
“Don't interrupt now, this is important stuff,” he said sincerely, and briefed her on what she needed to know.
“We're going up in this!” he said pointing and Jenny's face just lit up like a sun rise, she was speechless.
It was the classic Tiger Moth, painted red all over the fuselage, and silver on the wings. John then told her some do's and dont's, and finally said, “Now, zip up, and then I'll show you how to get in.”
Once Jenny was sitting in the front cockpit, John had her put the leather helmet on, and showed her how to plug the lead into the box so that they could communicate. As John reached into the cockpit his hand touched hers and she felt something like a warm, mild electric shock, an excitement not connected to going up in an aeroplane, she wondered if he'd felt it too.
John closed and fastened the small door that eased access, and got himself settled in the back. He waved to a mechanic who came over to see them off.
“Switches off,” called the man in blue overalls. John confirmed they were with the same words, and the start up ritual for a vintage aircraft was begun.
The 130 horse power engine was ticking over nicely and all was set, and with the wheel chocks removed, John taxied toward the area of grass being used as the runway and the aircraft rocked from side to side, even on the seemingly smooth grass.
Jenny had the biggest grin of her life on her face as she lowered the goggles over her eyes. She couldn't help wondering if she looked more like Biggles or Snoopy. She had never been so excited before.
In no time they were in the air and the wind did indeed whistle through the wires that braced the wings as legend would have it. Apart from the odd, jerky little upward or downward movement, like speed bumps in the air, they climbed smoothly away from the ground.
With the face masks clipped over their mouths, and the microphones open, John could hear Jenny as she nearly screamed: “Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!” followed by laughter.
He grinned as he appreciated how it felt for him the first time. He decided he liked what he heard, even through the poor quality electrical connection. He suddenly realised how happy he was about making Jenny happy. He felt a little odd in his stomach.
Once they had reached 2,000 feet, John, still looking round, asked if Jenny was OK. Her answer was almost a squeal, but he could make out the word 'Yes' from it. He wobbled the wings and heard her squeak, so he did it again with the same result.
“Ready for a turn?” he asked.
By way of an answer he saw her upraised thumb as she put her hand up into the slipstream. He started a gentle left turn, and as there was no response he tightened it which meant the wings tilting further over. He was rewarded with another yell of delight from his passenger as the small amount of gee pushed them into their seats.
John moved further from the airfield before delighting Jenny with more turns and a steep dive. Unknown to John, he almost made her cum when he performed the loop. The finale manoeuvre was a simple roll. Jenny squealed once more and asked for another one, so John, believing as many pilots did, that one should always unwind the aeroplane, rolled back the other way, with the same result from up front.
“Would you like a pole?” he asked.
Do you want to fly her?”
“Oh God, yes please! What do I do?”
John told her he would keep his hands and feet ready to take over, then, told her how to move the controls to get the desired effect. She gave another laugh when he finally said,
“You have control.”
Immediately the nose came up and John told her to relax as she held the stick, not to grip it hard and tense up. The plane porpoised up and down as he talked her through levelling off, and reminded her to relax, to guide not drive. Jenny was ecstatic as she eventually kept them straight and level for five minutes.
“OK Captain, now turn to the left, gently, just like I told you.”
It was a sloppy turn, just like his first one had been when he learned to fly, and he nearly took control back. Jenny got them level again, in a gentle climb, and asked John to sort things out.
“Not me, stick forward, find the horizon and try it again, you have control!” he emphsized.
As John kept a good look out Jenny got them straight as well as level, realising her tongue was dry from the wind as she held it in her teeth and put it away, she'd not done that when concentrating in years. Her next turn was much better, she gained some height with it, but John thought she did very well. She was nearly wetting herself with excitement, and felt happier than she could remember ever being before. The big grin was still there and her idea of John was changed forever.
John could see Jenny looking all around as he flew them home, and wondered if she new she was singing out loud. They flew once round the circuit as another plane took off, and John then took them down and managed to get the tail skid down less than half a second after the main wheels, very close to the perfect three point landing he was aiming for.
Once they were safely parked and the Moth secured, Jenny climbed out and jumped at John, putting her arms tightly round his neck and pulling him in to plant a huge kiss right on his lips.
“Oh thankyouthankyouthankyou,” she said warmly, “God that's the most fun ever to be had with clothes on, surely.”
A rather surprised but very pleased John told her she was welcome, and listened to her excited chatter as they walked off to do more paperwork, and find some tea.
As they queued for a tea and a bun, Jenny said to John, “Oh you have to bring me again John, please?”
“Oh, do I?” he teased her, already knowing he would.
The older guy serving them at the counter butted in saying, “Club rules mate, any pretty girl has a right to be brought back any time.”
“Oh well then,” John said with feigned resignation, “I suppose if it's in the rules...”
Even on the way home Jenny was on a bit of a high. She had to find a way to extend the day she thought. Today could be a really special day in my life.
“Right, my treat, Chinese at my place, and some wine, tonight. You can't say no, it's in the club rules.”
“And when did you suddenly become an expert on the flying club rules?” he demanded.
“At the same moment I added that one to them.” she said, the huge grin back on her face.
So, after coffee and lots of aero talk on the sofa, they ordered a delivery of Chinese food and watched a film on the TV. John declined the wine saying he had to drive home, and he never mixed even a little drink with driving. When the food was finished, Jenny curled her legs under her right side, and leaned into John, forcing him to put his right arm round her shoulders.
They watched in silence for several minutes, and John thought he could hear the cogs in Jenny's head turning. The ones in his head certainly were. Jenny carefully leaned forward and poured more wine, two glasses this time.
“Jenny, I'm driving,” he reminded her gently.
Passing him the glass, but still looking at the TV, she resettled herself into him.
“Not tonight you're not John. You can go home in the morning, but you're not going anywhere tonight. Club rules,” she told him in a firm but gentle voice.
Slowly, he took the proffered glass, realising the significance as he did so.
It wasn't until the end of the second bottle that Jenny kissed him. She sat up, put a hand gently on either side of his intense face, and kissed him on the lips for several seconds before saying;
“Listen to me John, pay close attention to what I'm about to say, it's important,” she said mimicking the way he had briefed her before the flight.
As they stared into each others eyes she said, “This lady is very interested. Got that? Very interested.”
“Got it,” he assured her, and made her whole year when he carried on to say: “And so is this man. Very.”
There was something of a scrabble to remove clothing, the empty bottles went over and the low table was moved somehow. Within five minutes John was pulling out of her cute little body and spraying his seed over her belly as she, on the way down from her own orgasm, sat on the edge of the sofa glowing with happiness.
“Christ, sorry. It's been a while,” he apologised for his short performance.
“I can guarantee you, the next time will be an awful lot sooner sweety pie.”
In fact it was twenty five minutes later after a quick clean up, that Jenny led John up the stairs to her bed. She swept off the five cuddly toys, threw back the sheet, and climbed into the middle of the bed, pulling him after her.
They explored each other with hands, lips and tongues. They explored the swells and the dips, the things that pointed and the ones didn't. They took another twenty five minutes to reach the point where Jenny lay on her back and pulled John over her, demanding that he once more take her up into the air and fly with her among the clouds.
His entry was smoother than his landing of the Tiger Moth, and this time, they didn't just have sex, didn't just release something built up over the day. They took the time to enjoy the feel of each other as he plunged deeply into her sex with his hardness. They revelled in the pumping of their blood, the beating hearts, their breath between long kisses.
Jenny loved the way John bit her neck and shoulders softly but firmly, he loved the feel of her near perfect skin, and when it came, the ultimate pleasure took them both to a new height, previously unreachable to them both.
Jenny's love life was no longer up in the air, just her heart.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
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