John D - Growing Pains - The wooing of a London soubrette

Terry smiled and opened his mouth to speak but then closed it. “Let me guess, you were about to say you'd like to see me do that,” Grace added and Terry went sheepish.

“Yeah OK,” he admitted with flushed cheeks and Grace took a long sip of her lemonade. “I'd love to capture you on film, you have the most wonderful body. The pictures would be amazing.”

Grace blushed. They chatted warmly and affectionately, like old friends, and then walked out onto the river bank and turned down river. Grace had wanted to pay at last half for the meal but Terry refused.

Grace put her hand on Terry's rear and he put his arm over her shoulder.

“So, have you given up on me yet?” Grace asked and Terry peered down at her.

“Do you really want me too?”

“It'll be the absolute no-no. You never date your punters. It just gets messy.”

“But I was a one-off,” Terry replied and then added. “And it doesn't answer the question.”

Grace sighed and grinned. “OK. I'll think about it. Breaking one of my golden rules. I am a little uncomfortable about it but you aren't like any of my normal punters.”

Terry smiled. “Will you let me take you out next Saturday?”

Grace took a deep breath and nodded, maybe Sandy was right. What harm can a date do? “Yeah OK. I'll think about it. Maybe next Saturday, a trial date, if you like,” she suggested and he smiled. She was being difficult to get but he was getting there, she was softening, slowly.

They parted on the river bank and as Grace went to leave, turned back and looked at Terry. “Hey lover boy. You don't want a flea-bitten, mangy cat to take back to Cheshire do you?”

Terry smiled at her. “No. Not unless it comes with you.”

Grace grinned. “I come with a completely different pussy.”

Although Sandy claimed to have forgiven her, Grace still felt incredibly guilty and so dragged her Danish friend to Hyde Park for a picnic the following day. She had been to the bakers and butchers on the way home and fried up some bacon to make sandwiches out of. She added a smattering of cakes and fizzy drink to the hamper and were happily eating the small feast and they lay down on the banks of the Serpentine chatting idly.

“Hey Sandy, he's nice,” Grace muttered pointing at a jogger running past.

Sandy chuckled. “And there was me thinking you'd only have eyes for Terry.”

“Oh don't start that again. I've said we can go out on a trial date. A sort of this is what we would get if we actually went out.”

Sandy sighed. “Only you would come up with that.”

“It's try before you buy… well try before you window shop but it's same sort of thing.”

“You are resisting him so much. Just go out with him.”

Grace puffed at Sandy. “Yeah well don't start that again. Although he making me think though…”

Sandy cackled. “Ya see…”

“About business,” Grace corrected her. “He is buying his own business. And we've been all over Europe, had lots of experience. I wouldn't mind running my own business but I couldn't do it on my own.”

Sandy turned on the grass and smiled. “Doing what?”

“Massage Parlour. Strip club. Night club. Restaurant maybe. Anything like that.”

Sandy nodded. “And you would need a partner to run the business when you and Terry have kids.”

Grace sighed. “Who says I want kids?”

Sandy looked at her. “You've told me. And I don't, so it would be ideal.”

“Well, I can see myself with a couple of girls.”

“Not a little boy then?”

Grace screwed up her face. “I wouldn't know where to begin. I know everything about little girls, but nothing about boys.”

“You've dated them for six years,” Sandy replied and grinned. “When did you first allow guys to take you out, or stay the night, or sample your delights?”

Grace took a deep breath. “Well I was thirteen, and I wouldn't want to encourage that. I don't know. It's easier with girls as I understand the pressure I was under, but I have no idea what was driving Willie or Sam or George or any of the others.”

“Hormones.”

“Well yes, there is that. But I couldn't teach him how to do anything except how to go down on his girlfriend…”

“Or boyfriend.”

“Or boyfriend, and that isn't great parenting.”

Sandy sniggered. “Anyway, I would want to do that. Any child with one-half Grace genes is going to be pretty good in bed.”

Grace giggled. “But I mean it, what about the business. If we work hard this Summer we should have enough to get somewhere nice. It doesn't have to be London.”

Sandy nodded and smiled. “Yeah, let's work this Summer and then look. I think that's good.”

“Hey, there is a package here for you,” the receptionist called out as Grace walked past. Grace doubled back on herself to pick up the parcel and Sandy smiled.

“Not flowers this time, what?”

“Well it doesn't have a postmark so it must have been hand-delivered,” Sandy guessed looking over the small box. “Or a motorbike maybe.”

Grace sat the package down in the cold room and ran her front door key down the tape. She took out a small card on top in spidery handwriting that she read out.

Dear Sexy,

I hope these fit you.

With affection, Terry

“I can't look,” Grace said dramatically and Sandy peered into the box and removed the packaging.

She gasped and pulled out a small green garment, and then another one. “They are silk.”

“Silk what?” Grace asked, peeking at them and Sandy unfurled the skimpy clothing. It was a quarter-cup black bra with pea green cups and matching knickers with a high leg and black suspender belt attached.

“I hope he doesn't expect me to wear them all night,” Grace murmured poking the bra. “I don't want my nipples unsupported all evening.”

Sandy looked at Grace and then at her attire she had prepared for working in the parlour that day. “Oh. Really?”

Grace ignored the pointed comment and continued staring at the bra. “They'll rub on my dress,” she whined and Sandy peered into the box.

She made another “oooh” sound and pulled out a see-through garment.

“Let me guess, the dress he wants me to wear.”

“Oh Gracie. It's a nightie, look.” She unfurled the garment that was a long, sweeping nightdress, completely see-through and with lace trim. It was open at the front and had no arms. Sandy looked at Grace jealously.

“You are so lucky. I wish I had a guy who would be so thoughtful,” she mused and Grace sighed.

“Well you can have Terry if you want. I am beginning to have second thoughts,” Grace mused and Sandy stared at her wide-eyed.

“You won't,” she threatened. “He is the best thing that has happened to you since I've known you. You will let him take you out.” Grace deliberated. “It's an order.”

The following day, Grace and Sandy tentatively opened the door to the massage parlour and the receptionist smiled as they did. “More of your bloody post,” she moaned and passed Grace a letter. It was addressed to her at the massage parlour and had a Crewe postmark.

“What does it say?” Sandy asked and Grace began to read it.

To the gorgeous Grace,

I hope this reaches you fine. Making final preparations for Saturday and am excited.

I know you are wondering why I am making this effort, but I can't stop thinking about you. From the first cup of coffee in the morning, to inspecting pointing on roofs, to going to bed at night, you are always in my thoughts.

I have only been away from London for 24 hours but I am already missing your smile, your laugh and your beautiful, wonderful body. I can't wait until Saturday and I know we will have a great time.