You Could Always Stay with Me

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Katherine brushed out her straw-blonde hair and checked her makeup for a last time. She felt uncommonly pleased with what she had been told the night before.

The end of the university year had just passed. and her house would have fallen silent; her student lodgers leaving their small apartments empty and ready for her to clean and redecorate as the need, and her mood, dictated. She had fashioned the one-bedroom accommodation, each with their small kitchenettes and a bathroom, out of the rooms that had once formed a three-storey family dwelling she had grown up in.

It was not so far from the Birmingham University campus and her rule, of having two female students and a single male lodging in them, was strictly adhered to. It had been so ever since the house had come into her possession following the death of her mother, whom she had cared for over the years and finally as a live-in nurse, once Alzheimer’s had really taken a hold.

She had given up a career in the Army to be with her; pursued a new career in business administration that she had managed to build a life around and still offer care. She lived well, but her life always felt a little emptier when the students left and she was alone in the house, her own apartment arranged in open plan and tastefully decorated in the modern style, of whites and greys, some soft blues and a feminine touch here and there. The courtyard garden was only too easy to maintain and something of a suntrap.

Andrew Fletcher, a post-grad student and something of a technical whizz, had asked if he could stay for a few weeks longer. He would lodge for that time and pay a weekly rent as he pursued an internship with a local electrical engineering and infrastructure company. In doing so he would gain some relevant work experience before moving on.

She was dismayed to think of it, now, as she closed her front door, and she heard the soft bleep of her car’s alarm. His request had been quicky agreed to. There would be time to grow accustomed to an empty house, yet she knew that the weeks of the summer vacation would fly by, and she already had names for the apartments written in, but none confirmed as a certainty. She had yet to sift through the applications and that process would not take long, out of fairness to those wanting to live in her place.

She also needed time to get used to the idea that Andy would be in the house with her, their arrangement quite at odds with all that had gone before with others she had taken in. But that was to ignore the effect that the young man had on her, his polite helpfulness, accommodating ways and easy banter. All of it failing to distract her from what she thought lay behind the look of his eyes upon her when they were together.

She knew that a man’s touch was needed. She’d felt that earlier, when the shower water douched over her body, and she had lifted her small, pendulous breasts to wash under them. She had gone so far as to feel her hard nipples as the warm water cascaded over her skin. She had imagined how it would again feel to have a man’s touch, even young Andy’s, upon her. Wayward thoughts had taken a hold as her hands had moved slowly over her body, moved lower and lower as she washed her shaven place. She’d parted soaped lips, as she thought of it; the touches of her middle finger arousing shudders of longing.

‘Get an effing grip!’ she had muttered. lapsing into an only too common expression from her Army days and as thoughts of him were replaced for the need to get ready for work.

A movement at an upstairs window drew her eye away, for an instant, from the traffic she sought to join, as she prepared to leave. Was it really Andy keeping a watchful eye on her?

Whatever next? Could the young man fancy her and he had kept quiet on it for so long?


Andy stood at the window and gazed down into the street below. He knew that Katharine would be leaving for work about now. The woman was punctual to the point of obsession; you could almost set your watch by the routine that she followed.

His request, that she allowed him to stay over in the apartment for a few weeks more, had set her back for only a moment. She’d soon let him know that that she would be glad to have him around a little longer. The reason for that had not been made clear, but his concern that she would not agree had soon been dispelled.

The pressure was off him now. His student days were done with. Hard graft of a different kind awaited him, but he was up for it.

Katharine had seen him. He’d taken in her startled look; saw the sway of her sandy blonde hair as she responded to his wave of farewell before she eased her Mini, with its Union Jack painted on the roof, into the traffic and was soon gone from his sight.

There was no mistake where her loyalties lay. He had seen the photos of her in Army uniform. The woman possessed great posture in her slender, small breasted body, her uniform fitting her perfectly. He had noticed that her attractive, slender, face was no different, now, from the photos and bonus veren siteler whether she wore a cap or not. He’d seen the photos of her in Army fatigue trousers and clumpy boots, a green T-shirt shaping her and all of that along with her somewhat lopsided, toothy grin. He just loved her evident vitality, her looks of no immediate concern.

Katharine’s nervy energy kept her slim and her lively personality shone through and livening up their dealings hen they were together. Girl friends came and went, but not in her house, and through the academic year, just gone, Katharine remained a constant. Jess and Sam, the girls who had occupied the other two flats, were into each other and so of no interest to him.

He wanted to make his way with Katharine, somehow and while he lived under the same roof as the engaging woman, she no raging beauty but with a personality to hook him. Katharine had said that work would soon be started on cleaning out the other flats and that painting them would then begin.

‘Are you doing that by yourself?’ he’d gone and asked her, last night, when she had agreed to him staying on.

‘Yes, of course I am…who else do I ask unless I pay them?’

‘I could help you…I’ve no plans for the weekend. I’ve already taken some of my stuff home… to my folks place…so I’ll be around to help if you needed it.’

He’d seen her hesitate. Katharine had been surprised by the offer of help, no mistake. She must have taken to wondering, he surmised, what might be the reason for him doing that. But, she had seen the practicalities of any such arrangement for she spoke of it.

‘It goes quicker with two doing it…and I can get the places ready for the next year’s students. The applicants will want to see them…spot on.’ She’d nodded agreement to what he had proposed. ‘Yes, help me…and I get some company in doing that work. The others have left, and the place always feels quiet over the summer…and it feels strange after all that’s gone on before. What you’ve asked changes all that, Andy.’

He stepped away from the window and checked that he had everything. It wouldn’t do to be late for his introduction day at his work placement. It was Friday. The weekend stretched out before him. He had no intention of spending it alone, the hungering feeling that possessed him, and new and engaging company, had to be dealt with, or a start made at the very least.

Last night his eyes had taken in the look of a different woman on hearing what she had said. They might not feel alone for much longer.


Katharine heard a knock on the door. It could only be Andy, even if it was so very early in the morning.

‘Hi,’ she grinned. ‘Did I wake you…clattering about up here?’

‘No…whatever gave you that idea?’ he teased back. ‘You forget…I saw you yesterday morning leave early…as you do every day.’

‘And you see me?’

He shrugged. ‘Most days…yes.’

She stood before him in a pink halter neck T-shirt and some denim shorts, faded and frayed at the hems, her feet shoved into what looked like deck shoes that she’s glammed up by gluing glittery powder over them. Kath heard his appreciative laugh.

‘The landlady’s got work to do…has dressed for it. I’m expecting a delivery of paint I ordered on line…’

‘Your tenant likes what he sees…wants to tell you that…and he’s here to help,’ he retorted. ‘I said that I would…’

Katharine hears his sudden lapse into using a defensive tone. His strong legs poke out from chino beach shorts with patch pockets; a faded orange V-neck T-shirt hangs over the waistline; she notes how it complements his wavy brown hair. She sees, really for the first time, that it has strands of mute red orange throughout and hopes its natural and not dyed and an affectation. He really doesn’t need to go messing with it. She meets the look of his eyes upon her and wonders, again, if she’s been wise to take him up on his offer of help. It would be only too easy to get distracted by the young man’s attentive ways. His slender face is unshaven, but his clothes are clean. She’ll allow him that lapse. What goes for her doesn’t always apply to others.

At least she’s not alone, and it matters.

‘I know you offered to help and I’m glad that you did. There’s more to do in this place than the other flat. Those two girls seem to have spent all their time in here…’

‘Cosy…I’m sure,’ he smiled. Andy moved past her; breathed in the floral scent of some body spray. The breeze blew the thin curtains in and out, the view from the window over untidy back gardens and yards not to be dwelt on. He did not look at her as she came to stand by his shoulder, the rubbish sack she had been seen holding brushing his leg. ‘What do I call you…Katharine or Kate…or Kath…?’

‘Kate,’ she decided to reply. It sounded more intimate. ‘And…to me you’re Andrew.’

‘Sure,’ he replied. ‘It makes a change from Andy.’

He made to leave her side, but Kate touched his arm for an instant to restrain him. ‘If this bedava bahis is going to work, you helping me…then relax, Andrew, and…and I’ll do the same.’

‘Yeah…I guess it’s a case of hopes and reality finally meeting.’

She laughed. His few prescient words had broken the tension. ‘Well said…now, come on…there’s work to do. If you shift the furniture, I’ll do the first hoovering of the carpet…put cleaner wherever it’s needed. The stuff goes in the middle of the room and gets a dust sheet over it all. Then…then we paint the walls…you and I. Okay?’

‘Sure, but this afternoon I want to go out…take you to the fair in the park…break new ground….that’s…that’s unless you’ve got other plans?’ Andrew spoke hesitantly. He met her startled look. ‘It’s forward of me, I know…in old language…fresh in the new…but I’d like to do that.’

‘Work first…let’s get to that later, shall we?’

The young man she worked with had come onto her, the unlikely scenario that had played out in her mind, whenever she had thought of or seen Andrew, was soon to be made real if she conceded to what he had asked.

The friends she had were all matched up. If she’d asked them she would have been the third person. Now, she had a companion to go to the open-air concerts and take in the craft stalls…enjoy something of a carnival atmosphere that would only be sharpened by the raucous sounds of the steel-band that always played along with the singsong of the kids’ funfair and the jostling of the crowd. Quieter moments could even be discovered by the large lake and its high, spurting fountain.

‘Fancy sharing a beer?’ he asked when they paused to assess what had been achieved. ‘I’ll go and get the bottle from my fridge…grab a glass for mi lady…’

‘Less of your lip, mister…’ she smiled, but looking coyly at him for a moment. He had relaxed as she had asked of him. ‘Yes, go on…I won’t be drunk in charge of a hoover.’

‘And the glass?’ he grinned on a tilt of the head. ‘It’ll save me on the washing up…’

‘You decide…’ she answered on a low breath. Her lips would be on the neck of the bottle that he too sipped from and suggestive, perhaps, of a shared act; a simple act of bonding some might think.

The young man she saw leave the room was only too engaging, Andrew’s involvement in the work that she had not looked forward to starting, but had to complete, having the effect of taking her mind off everything. He was so self-assured in her company now. Was he reading her too well, or was she encouraging this behaviour in him without realizing it? She, a woman of close on forty being taken out of ordered ways by a young guy of no more than twenty-four, or so, who had spoken of his introduction day at a high-tech company. He had told her of hours productively spent and that had set him thinking of the future in quite different ways.

Just what they were he had left unsaid; but his suggestion that they go to the park gave her the smallest of clues on where this could all lead.

‘I’ll be back in a moment! That’ll be the delivery of the paint!’ she called out as the door bell was heard to ring. Andrew stood by the handrail and watched her clump down the stairs, Kath’s hair swaying. ‘Leave me some beer won’t you?’

‘I can wait…I’ve done that for some time.’

Kath paused at the foot of the stairs, her eyes stilled, as she met his look upon her. Once again, Andrew had brazenly given voice to what was at work in him and where, disconcertingly, it again concerned her. She wondered if she was ready for it and with him, flattering as it was. Age differences in relationships created their own problems; they even aroused some disapproval. She wondered if she needed that, but she felt was certain, as she pulled open the door and took the heavy parcel from the man’s hands, that she would remain in control.

‘Thank you,’ was all that she said, smiled and closed the door on him and the Asian delivery driver’s polite reply scarcely heard.

Anything that might happen between them would be shared under her roof. She really didn’t need the label of the ‘woman and her toy-boy’ hung around her neck.

She had been plagued by thoughts of Andrew again, earlier, when she had lain in her bed and out of reflex, or union with her raging thoughts, touched herself. Her thin nightdress was rucked around her hips. She’d stripped off and needed no time at all to get where she had been before with her thoughts. She had been aroused and had felt that way in her half-sleep. She had known that this wouldn’t take long. Thinking that the hands touching her were Andrew’s hands, she started playing with her soft naked breasts and slowly moved down. She needed to feel her fingers, Andrew’s fingers, inside her. Moving her middle finger slowly into her warm pussy had sent shivers through her whole body. Now that they’d spoken of the day to come she knew that what she performed on herself wouldn’t take so long and would be different from the last time. She’d stifled her cries with a deneme bonus pillow as one, then two, finally three fingers started stretching and plumbing her body until the rush of unstoppable pleasure, her self-induced orgasm, overwhelmed her. She ached for it to be made real, good or bad as it might be; the older woman screwed by a young stud…or maybe a dud, but with good looks.

‘I’ve got to do it just to get over him,’ she sighed, gripped a baluster of the stairs until she calmed down. She realised what she was holding and shivered. ‘Is it so crazy what I’m feeling…and only too willing to give in to?’

But she was taking the fences far too quickly, wasn’t she? The proof of how it would be between them would become clear when they went out in the afternoon and then later.

She owed it to herself,as much as Andrew, to go that far at the very least. They would be in a crowd but they might be lost in each other none the less.


She had fretted needlessly. The jostling, boisterous, crowd swirled around them as they stopped to look at the street art on display, the blaze of colours drawn in chalk on the walkways or hung on the railings that marked the boundary to the serpentine lake and its landscaped margins.

‘Can we look at the jewellery?’ she asked, impetuously taking a hold of his hand and bringing him to her side. She was intent on going to one of the many stalls that lined their route before they reached the bandstand. ‘I know I’ve got more than enough….’

‘And what you have looks good on you,’ he grinned, his fingers brushing the front of her blouse as he took hold of the chain of turquoise beads, on a chain, that she had knotted, just to stop them swaying too much. Beaded bracelets were on each wrist, along with her chunky watch.

She didn’t stop him. Andrew had paid her the ultimate compliment of looking cool and smart in his dressed down ways of it. Now, his wonderful brown hair was swept back, its length and curls lending him a foppish air, like some Regency dandy. He was only too assured in his ways with her. She was glad to be at his side.

They bargained with stall holders whenever they stopped, and each came away with something. She slipped another bracelet onto her wrist, above the others and pulling up the sleeve of her azure tunic blouse to do that. She then fastened Andrew’s leather wristband by threading the laces through it, on his right wrist. As she did so she knew that his eyes were on her as she bent her head to look down and complete the task. The young man was only too strong; his forearms toned and his long fingers with their tended nails on her skin as she worked to adjust the fit. She was with him. She knew that she wanted to know of him. She felt the ache of wanting to reach that moment through these simple exchanges and ways of it.

‘Okay?’ she smiled, ‘It took longer than I thought it would do…’

‘I’m not complaining.’ He took hold of her arm. ‘The smoke from the barbecues is too much. Shall we grab some lunch…and a drink from the beer tent?’

‘A late one…but yes, let’s do that.’

She followed him and was unbothered that he led the way by holding her hand for a moment, she having the chance to take him in once more; his light blue buttoned-down collar shirt that was tucked into chinos; dark brown suede loafers on his feet. She had made much the same choice of colours, but her slacks had cropped hems and her blouse floated free to match her mood along with low-heeled white pumps that were easy to walk in.

She was disconcerted to realise that, unknowingly, they had dressed as if they were a couple and familiar with what the other liked to see them wear.

‘I’ll get us both a drink,’ Andrew suggested as the queue moved slowly towards the orders kiosk. ‘I’m going for apple juice…’

‘Make mine the same…’

The line had scarcely moved, and she felt the full heat of the sun upon her. How foolish not to bring a hat. Andrew as back in no time and she made to reach for her purse.

‘My idea all of this…so my treat,’ he murmured on leaning in. ‘Hold these for a moment?’ He was seen to scrabble in his bag and soon drew out two baseball caps. ‘I remembered these…at the last minute. You’d better have the blue one…it goes with your hair. You…you look radiant, by the way.’

‘It’s the sun…’ she chuckled. ‘Radiant’ wasn’t a description anyone had used on her before, but now that she thought of it, the word, she knew that she felt it and that she had already been taken out of only too ordered ways.

The queue moved suddenly as another sales point opened.

‘Chicken?’ he said pointing.

‘Fine, not too spicy…’

‘That’s my take on it too…’ Andrew sensed that she had moved away from him, a step or two.

He felt relief that her nerviness of earlier, and of being with him, had ebbed away. Just as it had been during the morning when they worked, and he’d seen her move. He had delighted in her toned legs and arms, in the deftness of her hands. He hadn’t missed the soft tumble of her breasts in her top as Kate bent down to fill a bag with rubbish, nor the sway of her hair and her smile…her wondering look. He knew that this first day together had to end with them in her bed, or in his. There was a sense of expectancy that needed few words…

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