02. Giving Jess a Hand - Sex Stories

02. Giving Jess a Hand

People call me BC. BigCat. I have had this nickname all my life except for a period of 3 or 4 years at Art College, where I was known as ‘Fluffer’. These are the stories of that time. Fluffer’s time. The tutor contemplated over his pint, all sage like in his white beard, and said he would sign off my term’s work if I did him one favour. I was used to this, having been a carpenter before college, and working on building sites to pay my way through my studies. Tutor’s saw me coming. He had inherited a cottage and it really needed doing up. He couldn’t bear tearing it all out himself and either way had been warned off stressful work by his doctor. He said his niece, Jess, was determined to do the work for him but he felt she wouldn’t be up to the task on her own. If I spent a few days helping her fix the place up, then he would sign off my work, then I would get my degree. What could I do? I found myself in this beautiful town, at a beautiful cottage with, as it turned out, a beautiful workmate inside it. Jess was delightful. Friendly, warm, and just lovely looking. Healthy and voluptuous, long black hair, these impossible black-in-black eyes and the most delicious, generous smile. She greeted me looking cute in a man’s shirt and rolled up jeans, covered in dust and sneezing the minute the saw me. I feigned a sneeze, as if that was the traditional greeting, and we shook hands. She had dry, soft-strong hands and an easy laugh. Thankfully, as my nervous jokes were very poor. She ...

... showed me round and I could not believe what we had taken on, having just days to gut the place and re-paint it. But as well as this mammoth task, Jess had a job in local gastro-pub in the evenings. So after a long day working on the house she would dust off, dress up and head off to be a waitress into the small hours. I worked alongside her all week and all the following weekend and we ripped out and sanded the decay out of that cottage. She was a little Hitler, constantly pointing out: “you missed a bit” and making me re-do stuff. But, in the evenings, she insisted I accompany her to the pub where she would cheekily slip me food and beer. It was simply a delight to help her out. I actually counted myself lucky if I’m honest, loads of blokes in the pub were offering help and she was breezily turning them down. “I’ve got all the help I need thanks!” They would glare at me and shake their heads. It was an exhausting routine for Jess, though, and she was really looking forward to the Monday night, when the restaurant closed and she had a night off. I had real respect for this girl and had big plans to treat her on that night off, though I have to say it didn’t quite include everything else that happened. I wanted to make it special for her, and worked hard getting the bathroom finished in time; somehow, I secretly managed to boil 10 massive pans of water on the double ring stove and more or less filled the bath. I even managed to find some bubble bath in the local shop and lit ...