Helena’s Hero Ch. 02

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It’s strange, but I was happy to get back to work on Monday. After a life disruption like I’d been through, the return of routine was welcome.

I parked very close to where I’d been stabbed. Heading towards the elevator, I paused and looked over at the stairwell where it happened. I shuddered and walked on, wondering if I’d ever be able to go into work again without thinking about it. Probably not.

Of course, I reminded myself, some good had come of it all already.

I’d keep absolutely quiet about Helena and me. I didn’t want to get her in hot water, for one, plus word getting out about us could hurt my own career. I could imagine getting a promotion someday only to have people question how I earned it. The fact that I’d nailed the hot boss lady was to remain absolutely secret.

It was a quarter to nine when I walked through the doors into our department. Doug had scheduled a meeting for promptly at nine.

Gina was at the front desk, staring at her computer screen.

“Hey,” she said, not bothering to look up.

“Hey Gina,” I responded, perplexed.

As I made my way towards the lab, a few coworkers saw me and said terse good mornings. I settled into my desk a bit peeved. I didn’t expect a banner and confetti upon walking in the door, but everyone was acting as if nothing happened. Worse, in fact. They seemed almost hostile.

A pit formed in my stomach. Had they somehow found out about Helena and me? Did they think I took advantage of her? I was a worried mess by the time I entered the conference room and sat down. I scanned the faces there. Everyone seemed to be ignoring me.

Doug strode in, his usual grandiose self. He’s a big guy in every way, tall with a protruding gut and a huge head.

“Good morning everyone,” he said, launching right into his agenda. It turns out Helena had approved the plan we were working on the night I got stabbed. Doug explained it all in his loud, boisterous way of speech.

“Now comes the tough part,” he was saying. “And that’s implementation. At stake is nothing less than more efficient solar panels for a greener tomorrow, not to mention maintaining our industry leadership and increasing the value of your stock options. We have to work -”

Doug stopped mid-sentence, turning away. He started laughing.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t go on. I lasted as long as I could. Let’s hear it for our man Jonah, everyone!”

The room burst into applause. Everyone got to their feet clapping. I was at the center of a whirlwind of congratulations, guys slapping me on the shoulder and every girl in the department smooching me on the cheek.

Except for Gina, that is, who managed to plant a kiss on my lips in front of everyone without anyone so much as raising an eyebrow. She didn’t normally attend staff meetings, but hung around the door to see my reaction to the big practical joke.

“It was Greg’s idea,” Doug explained. “He suggested we all act as if nothing had happened, just to screw with your head.”

“Well, it worked!” I responded.

“Seriously, everyone,” Doug continued. “This company was built on teamwork. Teamwork relies on good character, however, and Jonah showed his character when one of the women of this company was being attacked. Now, Jonah says he’s not a hero. I’m not so sure about that.”

We settled in for the meeting. Doug detailed all we’d be working on for the next year. I sighed, pondering the long hours ahead.

Gina approached me after the meeting broke up.

“Our Jonah, the big hero!” she said. “What’re you doing for lunch? Let me take you out, my treat.”

“I’ve got a meeting with Human Resources over the stabbing,” I said. It sounded like I was blowing her off but I corrected myself quickly. “How’s Thursday?”

“Thursday’s great!”

Gina walked off. I admired her curvy ass and thighs and recalled the feel of her soft lips pressed against my own, contemplating my situation. I’d just fucked the boss lady and now I’d made a date with the receptionist.

The complications arising from this could be myriad, but I didn’t care.


I saw Helena that afternoon. I was returning from work following my lunch meeting with a Mrs. Turner from HR. She was nice, but I got the feeling she was mostly concerned with preventing me from suing the company. Hence the lunch HR was paying for. I told her as long as they agreed to pay the deductibles on my insurance and the days I missed were waived in terms of sick days, I’d sign whatever release she wanted.

“I think that can be arranged,” she said, barely suppressing a relieved grin. They even threw in the standard workman’s compensation for an injured arm. Not bad.

Helena was standing in the main lobby by the elevators when I returned from lunch. She was studying a file in her hands and talking to another corporate big wig. She wore a bright red suit and matching heels. Red was Helena’s color, pairing well with her skin tone and pale blonde hair.

Helena glanced at me, a sly smirk forming in one corner of her mouth and an eyebrow cocking in my direction. şişli escort She wore red-frame glasses, bringing out the iridescent green of her eyes even more than usual.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sullivan,” she said.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Davis-Wickham,” I responded.

I grinned as I stepped into the elevator, replaying Friday night in my mind. I tried to recall every last sensation. I wanted to remember it all forever, from the taste of Helena’s lips to the way her hair had the subtle aroma of vanilla. Most of all, I thought of the way her bountiful tits bounced steadily as she rode my cock.

We’d stayed in bed a long time after the sex was over the previous Friday, lounging together naked. I got up and got our beers. We drank them, snuggling and talking.

I lay in bed and watched her dress afterwards. It was like a reverse strip-tease, and surprisingly erotic. She slid her panties back on, then her bra. Reaching back, she hooked it without effort.

“How do women do that?” I asked. “You make it look so easy.”

“It is easy, Sweet Jonah,” she teased.

I watched as she put her shirt back on and buttoned it up. She glanced at me, smiling. She enjoyed me watching her, and deliberately took her time.

On went the skirt, then the jacket, and finally her shoes. She studied herself in the mirror, nodding her head. A minute before, she was naked. Now she looked every bit the elegant and smart professional again.

I put on my shorts and shirt and followed her to the front door. We shared a long kiss as I wrapped my arms around her and held her close.

“I’ll be in touch this week,” she said. “We can talk more about getting you properly thanked.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Helena kissed me again after I walked her to her car. I went back inside and lay down in my bed. I could still smell her on the sheets and feel the warmth of where her body lay mere minutes before.

It wasn’t long before I was hard again.


Gina greeted me Tuesday morning with a big smile. She was wearing a pink shirt which showed off her cleavage nicely. Her hair was back but a few raven tresses refused to cooperate and framed her face nicely.

“Hey, you!” she said.

“Hey, yourself!” I responded. I added, “You’re looking nice, this morning.”

“Thanks,” she said.

A voicemail summoning me upstairs to Helena’s office on my lunch break was waiting for me at my desk. Come lunchtime, I headed upstairs. I knew enough to be discrete, so I walked a few flights up the stairwell and then slipped into an upward-bound elevator unnoticed by anyone who knew me.

I’d never been to Helena’s office before. It was way up on the tenth floor. Her secretary, a tall redhead, smiled as I walked in.

“Jonah,” she said. “Go right in.”

Helena’s office was like I might’ve imagined. It occupied a corner of our building with a magnificent view of downtown and contemporary art on the walls. She sat behind her glass-topped desk talking on the phone. She smiled, gesturing towards the chairs in front of her desk. I sat down.

“That’s bullshit, Sam,” she said sternly into the phone. “When? Why don’t you call me when you know something more definite?”

Helena glanced at me. Her glasses were down around the tip of her nose and she looked like every naughty librarian fantasy I’d ever had, and I’d had plenty. She raised an eyebrow and smirked playfully.

“That’s not acceptable,” she said into the phone, her humorless tone in sharp contrast to the flirtatious look on her face. “Look, I’ll give you to five and I think that’s reasonable. See what you can do. Okay? Talk to you then. Bye.”

“Hello, Sweet Jonah,” she said, putting down the phone.

Helena got up and came around the desk. She wore a navy blue suit and matching high heels, the skirt portion hugging her hips as she walked.

“How are you?” she asked, leaning over and giving me a quick peck on the lips.

“Good,” I told her. “I keep thinking about Friday night.”

“I’m sure.” Helena sat down in the chair next to me. “That was the best fuck I’ve had in months. Time’s short, so let me tell you why I asked you up here. My daughter’s going to Washington this weekend on a JSA trip. They’ll be leaving Friday afternoon and won’t be back until Sunday evening. What I propose is simple.”

Helena paused, a mischievous look in her eyes. She gave me her trademark smirk.

“I want to make myself available to you,” she continued. “For the entire weekend. During that time, I will be at your complete sexual disposal. Do with me as you wish. Fuck me anyway you want. Let me thank you properly like I promised. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds great,” I managed to say.

“There’s just one thing.” Helena paused again. “Jonah, an offer like this doesn’t come along every day. Think about what you’d like, and don’t be shy. I’ve been around the block. To give you an idea: If you want to fuck my ass, that’s fine. If you want me to fuck your ass, for that matter, that’s also okay. Don’t squander çapa escort this opportunity by being timid, Jonah. Okay?”


“Go online tonight. Pick out some outfits for me and some sex toys, whatever you want. Print out whatever you want, bring it to me then, and I’ll have it overnighted. Don’t worry about price, either.”

“I can do that,” I told her.

“Great,” she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Shit. I’ve got another appointment in five minutes. How’s Thursday?”

“Um,” I said. I didn’t want to break my date with Gina. “Not good.”

“How about tomorrow? Same time?”

“Sounds great.”

“Tomorrow is better, after all, come to think of it,” she said. “I’ll be able to give you some time to talk some more. Bring your lunch.”

We stepped towards the door. Helena kissed me hard again before I left then slapped my ass playfully.

I felt like I’d won the lottery.


I saw Helena the next day as we planned. I handed her the file I’d worked on. I’d spent hours online the night before, looking at outfits and lingerie I’d like to see her in. I finally settled on a few and printed them out.

Helena looked the pages over, nodding and smiling. Her glasses fell down to the tip of her nose again and it was my turn to smile. She wore a gray suit with a bright purple dress shirt and sat across from me at her desk with her legs crossed.

“Very nice,” Helena said, looking over the first page.

“That’s my favorite,” I told her.

“I can see why.” Her eyes flashed at me. “Red is my color.”

“I know.”

We wound up talking for a half hour. Helena quizzed me on my likes and dislikes, sexual and non-sexual. She nodded thoughtfully when I told her about my passion for Asian food. Then we switched to discussing my favorite sexual fantasies.

“I’ll order everything tonight,” she said when we were finished. “Jonah, I’m so glad we had this talk. It’s going to make everything so much more fun this weekend.”

Helena handed me a paper with her address.

“I’m yours come six Friday,” she said.

“Then I’ll be there at six,” I said.

I pulled her towards me and we shared a long, lustful kiss.

“Jonah taking what he wants,” Helena cooed. “Helena like.”

“One more thing,” I said.


“That first outfit I picked, you know, the red one?”


“Be wearing it when I get there. And I’ll be there right at six. I’m never late.”

“Yes, sir,” Helena growled. “And I’ll have a special dinner waiting. You’re gonna need your strength, kiddo.”


Gina and I left for our lunch date right at noon the next day, hoping to get a table outside at a little Thai place a few doors down from our building. It was a gorgeous day, warm for late September.

Gina wore a green sweater buttoned-down in front over a yellow shirt and khaki pants, all chosen to show off her figure. It worked.

We got our coveted seat outside and ordered quickly from the lunch specials. A couple of guys from work caught sight of us and nodded enviously. Everyone loved Gina.

Gina glanced at the bandages on my arm.

“Does it still hurt?” she asked.

“No,” I told her. “Not anymore. It hurt like hell for days, though.”

“I can’t imagine what was going through her mind when that guy grabbed her,” she said.

“I’m sure she was scared,” I said. “I was sure scared.”

“She must be grateful to you.”

I chuckled, then changed the subject as carefully as I could and asked Gina about herself. She was a fascinating girl, as it turned out. She played guitar, wrote songs, enjoyed cycling, and was a voracious reader. Still, my mind wandered back to Helena.

Gina walked close to me as we headed back to the office, our hands brushing casually a few times. I admired the way her hair behaved in the breeze and the way her big dark eyes were so expressive.


Friday was an agony of anticipation. I had a tough time concentrating, my mind wandering constantly to picturing the various positions I’d like to see Helena in and all the things I’d like to do to her. Would do to her, I corrected myself.

I had lunch again with Gina, this time in the cafeteria. She asked me what I had planned for the weekend. I told her a white lie.

“I’m visiting a friend,” I said.

“Oh,” she said. “That sounds nice.”

Gina wasn’t good at hiding her emotions. Disappointment flashed across her eyes, as clear as if the text of what she was thinking were displayed on them. She was hoping to see me that weekend and doing a bad job of disguising the face. She’d make a terrible poker player.

“We should do something after work one night,” I said, shifting gears. “Maybe dinner next week?”

“Sure.” Her eyes brightened. “Sounds great.”


Helena lived in an upscale neighborhood from the 1920s in an old-money zip code, each home a unique architectural gem on spacious lots. Helena’s home was a Tudor-style house surrounded by towering oak trees. It exuded good taste, and money.

I pulled fındıkzade escort into the long driveway one minute before six, true to my word. Grabbing my bag, I approached the door. I was about to knock when Helena opened it. She wore a long white robe closed in the front, but I could see the red gloves and boots which hinted at the outfit I’d picked out for her. She was wearing her glasses, too. By my specific request, she wasn’t going to wear her contacts all weekend.

“Come on in, Jonah,” Helena said, a trace of a smirk crossing her face.

Inside her house was ultra-modern, in sharp contrast to the outside. Everything was sleek and spare, but with plenty of bright colors everywhere. Helena had lots of modernist furniture and vivid abstract paintings covered the walls. It looked like the kind of interior you see in an architectural magazine.

I closed the door behind me as I stepped inside. Helena cocked an eyebrow at me, undoing her robe and letting it fall to her feet the moment the door shut. She placed a hand on her hip in a provocative pose.

I stared dumbfounded, taking in the sight of Helena in the outfit I’d selected.

It started with her boots, high-heeled and reaching halfway up her thighs. They were bright red, complimenting her complexion perfectly. Next was the matching red corset with black laces up the sides. It fit tight, her ample boobs squeezed inside and threatening to pop out at any moment.

The matching gloves and corresponding collar around her neck provided the finishing touches, the little details which made the ensemble so great. Most of all, however, was the woman filling it out. Every inch of Helena radiated sex, from the spiked heels of her boots to the top of her blonde hair. I wanted nothing more than to take hold of her.

“Helena, Helena,” I gasped. “You’re a work of art.”

“Glad you like it.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.”

I stepped towards her and took her in my arms, grasping her tight. I kissed her hard and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. We stood there making-out in her foyer, hands and tongues all over each other.

Somehow Helena detached herself. She was breathing heavily, her eyes afire.

“Plenty of time for that,” she said. “Damn, this is going to be a fun weekend. Remember, I promised you dinner when you got here. Come on. Like I said, you’ll need your strength.”

Helena led me into the kitchen. It was large and modern with marble tops and a huge island in the middle. The large glass table was already set with a colorful feast.

“I thought I’d keep it light,” she said, guiding me into a chair at the head of the table and sitting down on my right. “I remembered how you said you enjoyed Asian food.”

“I’m obsessed with it,” I said, taking in the magnificent spread laid out on the table.

Helena reached over and poured a bottle of beer into a tall glass and then poured herself the same.

“This is a Czech pilsner I think will go well with the meal,” she explained.

I took a sip. It was smooth but with a strong element of hops.

“Excellent,” I said. “I see you decided to cook Indian.”

“You said it was a favorite.”

“Indeed I did.”

“Let me tell you what everything is,” she said. “First we have curried shrimp with garlic and onions.”

Helena pointed out a platter of bright yellow shrimp in an orange sauce arranged atop a glass platter. Bright green cilantro was sprinkled over the shrimp, creating a dazzling array of colors.

“Here we have the Paneer,” Helena said, pointing out the dark green spinach dish.

“That’s one of my particular favorites,” I said.

“Finally, we have lemon-cumin rice,” Helena added, gesturing towards a bowl of bright white rice with cumin seeds and cilantro sprinkled on top and sliced almonds and lemon zest mixed in.

“You cooked all this?” I asked.

Helena shrugged, a “who me?” look on her face.

“Helena Davis-Wickham,” I said. “Renaissance woman.”

“Don’t praise me till you’ve tried everything,” she cautioned.

Everything was cooked and flavored to perfection, no easy task with Indian food. There was a multi-layered spiciness to the shrimp, in particular, which made every morsel a flavorful delight.

We devoured everything on the table, draining our beers and chatting easily. Helena was nice to be around, not just beautiful but, I was learning, clever and funny.

Again and again my eyes wandered over her body as we dined. She noticed and turned it into a game, moving with deliberate, slow sensuality for me.

Taking a sip of beer, she cast me a smoldering look and held my attention. Taking up the glass with a gloved hand, she parted her lips as she brought it to her mouth. Still looking right into my eyes, she took a long sip and then lowered the glass. Her lips were wet from the beer and she licked them slowly with the tip of her tongue. Then she gave me a coy smile and looked like a school girl for a fleeting moment, feigning shyness.

The rest of dinner passed in that fashion, me staring at Helena and taking in her every move as she put on a slow, sensuous show. Every sip of beer and bite of food became sexual. When the meal was finished, we regarded each other silently. Neither of us had spoken for at least five minutes.

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