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The true story of Snow White.
Went to the study, where I just stood and shook, imagining what might be happening. It is a feeling which is quite indescribable.
About 10 minutes later, Sheila came to me and said that the lad was going home. And he went home!
Gathered from Sheila, later, that he had touched her breasts under her tee shirt (no bra) and she had felt that he was hard.
At this point he excused himself and decided he was going home.
We had such high hopes last Saturday, everything going swimmingly, and then 'pooph' all blown away.
End of story on this one.
Giving it one more chance, back to the 'father figure' for Sheila.
Must admit, it begins to appeal to me.
Pissed off and fed up Jack & Sheila
Which is why I was driving to see them; finally just getting to meet them seemed at least to be in order. In any case - 'I' was the father figure Jack had spoken of.
The meeting place was about half way between the respective cities we lived in and, as I had suggested quite anonymous. They had a photograph so they knew who to look for, that way they also had a chance to back out if they didn't want to continue.
Coffee almost finished I read my newspaper; forty minutes had passed from the allotted time and I was close to saying 'Sod it' and going back home - 200 miles on a promise! The waitress came over and I looked up.
"Excuse me sir, are you called 'Sven'?"
I admitted I was.
"I was asked to give you this envelope sir."
I thanked the girl and took the sealed envelope, glancing around the dining room as I did so. I realised I hadn't really been paying too much attention to the other people in the place, and cursed inwardly at not keeping my eyes open. I tore open the envelope and read the single piece of motel note paper - it just had a number on it. I laughed out loud at the symbolism - unlucky 13. Jack and Sheila had a sense of humour if nothing else.
Still chuckling to myself I paid my bill and walked through, carrying a small suitcase, into the lodge section of the hotel.
Number thirteen was at the end of the first corridor I came to, the quiet end, that is farthest away from the entrance vestibule and desk. The duty clerk merely glanced up and smiled at me as I walked past. I reached the door, glanced briefly in the mirror, took a deep breath and with a sense of approaching the unknown, knocked on the door.
I saw a brief flash as someone looked out of the 'spy-hole', before an attractive blonde opened the door, security chain stopping it from opening more than a few inches.
"Hi - Sven?"
"That's right, - Sheila?"
She laughed, a gentle laugh, grinned and said "That has to be the most ridiculous exchange I've ever heard. Hang on, I'll have to close the door so as to take the chain off, then I can let you in properly."
The door clicked shut, then just as quickly opened up and Sheila stood to one side and invited me in with a wave of her hand.
She closed the door behind me and put the security lock back on.
Laughing she said "Well you never know...."
I followed her down the short corridor and into the room. The lights were low and I could see another person, wearing jeans, sitting in a chair out of the direct light.
"Hi Sven - I'm Jack, for the purpose of this evening I'm not really here--please try and forget about me. I'm sorry for the secrecy and delay in making our move, we wanted to have some final discussions. I also didn't book the room until we had both had time to see you in the flesh and decide what we wanted to do."
Jack went explained that they had decided that they could both go along with what ever happened. As long as Sheila was comfortable with the situation, Jack was not going to intervene.
"No!" from Sheila or "Stop!" from him and the evening was over.
Sheila was sat on the bed as Jack talked to us both. Other than the original greeting she hadn't said anything.
I turned to her.
"Sheila. Now that Jack's voiced your thoughts, have you anything to add?"
She smiled, then with laughter in her voice "Not really, except tha