Helpful Harold

Kind-hearted, 17-year-old Harold offers to help 14-year-old Monica improve her math skills. The sexually active girl insists on paying him intimately.

Part One

Seventeen-year-old Harold Hillman had never had much success with girls during the five years since he had entered puberty—and that was putting it mildly. A very nondescript individual, Harold’s natural shyness did not help matters. While most of his male schoolmates had some experience at least socializing with teenage females, by the final semester of the 1972-73 academic year, Harry had not.

April 7 fell on the first Saturday of that month in 1973. On that cool afternoon, Harold was occupied doing one of his household chores, tending to the Hillman family’s lawns. Winter had ended just a little more than two weeks before. There were some bare patches on the front and back lawns that desperately needed some grass seed. As he was working near the edge of the property line, a car entered the neighbors’ driveway. Harold knew there was a mother and a daughter who lived in the house next door. They had moved into their home in the middle of February. He did not know their names. The mother looked to be in her mid-thirties; the daughter looked to be middle school-aged. From what Harold saw of his new neighbors’ activities, there appeared to be no male in the family.

On this particular Saturday, Harold heard the mother and the daughter in the middle of a heated conversation about the latter’s schoolwork. From the bits and pieces of what he could hear, Harold easily concluded that the mother was annoyed that her daughter was shirking her assignments.

“Monica, you are not going to pass the eighth grade of you don’t keep up with your work and turn in your assignments,” Harold heard the mother state. “You are 14 years old now. You need to be much more responsible about these types of things. You only have one job: Completing your schoolwork. I don’t ask much of you—just pass the year so you can enter high school in September.”

“Mom, I can’t do the math,” declared the girl, who was apparently named Monica. “I’ve never been good at it. I barely got through seventh-grade math. This year it’s much more difficult—and I’m lost.”

Harold, always a helpful young chap, shouted across the lawn at the mother. “If your daughter needs some assistance with her eighth-grade math, maybe I could help her. I’ve always been strong at math.”
“Come over here and let’s talk about that!” the mother immediately replied.

Harold set down his bag of grass seed and promptly headed to the first house to the north of his two-story abode on Aspen Avenue. The mother greeted him with a handshake.

“I’m Maureen Clemence,” she said to him. “I apologize for not being very neighborly so far. My daughter Monica and I moved into the neighborhood not quite two months ago. This is Monica standing right here. We’re still getting settled. Socializing with everyone on the street hasn’t been a priority. What’s your name, please?”

Harold nodded politely, introduced himself, and said he was a high school junior. He repeated his offer that he’d be happy to assist Monica if she were truly serious about improving her math mark. Harold wasn’t being totally altruistic. Monica was a very pretty 14-year-old girl. She took after her mother who was quite fetching herself. Monica had straight brown hair that descended to slightly below her shoulders. Harold figured if the girls from his high school weren’t especially interested in him, perhaps an attractive middle-school female wasn’t a bad consolation prize.

Judging by her body language, Monica wasn’t especially enthusiastic about the informal math tutoring, but she wasn’t against it, either. “Monica, this fine fellow has offered to work with you to help you with math. I think that’s a wonderful gesture of kindness. I think we should at least give it a try. What do you have to lose? Nothing, I’d say!”

Monica agreed, shook Harold’s hand without a lot of enthusiasm, but said she’d give it her best.
When asked if he could start assisting Monica that day, Harold said he could be at their doorstep in about an hour after he had finished his yardwork and had taken a shower.
“Great! Knock on our front door—not the side door—in an hour or so,” Maureen instructed him. “Monica will be waiting for you at the kitchen table.”

Part Two

About 55 minutes later, Harold returned and as advised, he knocked on the front door rather than the side door to be let in. The inside of the house was vaguely familiar to him; the family of a playmate of his used to live there a dozen years before. There had been two other owners of that home prior to the Clemence females moving there in February. Monica opened the door with a smile. For the first time, Harold noticed that Monica had braces along her bottom row of teeth. Maureen was apparently elsewhere in the house that was more spacious than Harold remembered it to be.

“Hi! On the table I’ve got my math textbook and my whole year’s work in that subject so far,” Monica told Harold. “I’ll tell you up front that math scares me. I’ve never been good at it since the first grade. I wish I could avoid it.”

“That’s the first thing we have to deal with—attitude!” Harold replied. “No one should be afraid of math. It’s a life skill that we all use every day—and it isn’t so tough if someone teaches the subject well. Will you let me give it a try?”

Monica thought that was sweet of Harold to phrase it that way, with him asking permission to teach her!“ Yes, you can give it a try,” she stated. “In return, I promise I’ll do my best. That’s not saying very much, though.”

“Maybe you’ll surprise yourself,” Harold cheerfully responded.

Harold began by reviewing exercises from the first of the year. It did not take long for Harold to realize that Monica was weak on math basics. She didn’t have her times tables memorized and she was weak when having to perform any sort of mental calculations. Monica hadn’t realized that multiplying was simply “adding in a hurry.” She was much better after learning that 6 x 4 produced the same answer as 6 + 6 + 6 + 6. This knew knowledge pleased Monica greatly. “You’ve helped me already, Harold!” she declared.
At that moment there was a knock on the Clemences’ side door. Maureen rushed up the stairs to open it. She said nothing to the middle-aged male who entered. She just led him silently downstairs.

“Friend of the family?” Harold asked innocently.

“No,” Monica said with an unexpected laugh. “He’s a client of my mother’s. She’s a whore. Mom likes to refer to herself as a ‘professional sex worker,’ but she’s just a common whore. She has sex with strangers for money. That’s her main source of income. She’s good at it. Mom has plenty of regular customers. That guy is one of them. He comes once a week, usually on Saturdays, for a fuck. Mom tells me that he’s an especially nice guy. He treats her very well in bed. She has a special room downstairs where she conducts her daily business.”

Harold was astonished on two levels. First, he never knew that anyone in his small city of 25,000 people was a prostitute, never mind his new neighbor. Second, he was amazed that Monica was so casual and accepting about the fact that her mother was involved in that sordid business.

Monica sensed Harold’s shock and discomfort at what she had just revealed about her closest family member. “It’s the world’s oldest profession, Harold,” she reminded him. “Two thousand years ago there were plenty of prostitutes throughout the Roman empire. Heck, they used to congregate around the Colosseum and wait for the crowd to disperse. Spectators became excited watching the bloody activities that passed for entertainment. An excited man was often a horny man. A horny man was a potential customer. Prostitutes are often quite smart women. Very few are stupid.”

“I don’t think you’ll need any help with history, Monica,” Harold noted. “You seem to be quite well informed about that subject.” Monica laughed and they quickly resumed the remedial math lessons.
Every once in a while, during the client’s visit, Harold could hear some of the conversation connected to the carnal activities from the floor below. For example, the customer clearly said, “I love fucking your tits!” Monica had to have heard it too, but she paid no attention to it whatsoever. About 10 minutes later, Maureen commanded, “Come for me Albert! Give me your big load. I want it.”

Monica commented, “Albert’s time must be running out without him having an orgasm yet. Mom wants him to ejaculate to reaffirm his manhood and so he gets his money’s worth. An unhappy customer is a customer who likely won’t return.”

Harold just smiled silently at this 14-year-old girl’s vast knowledge about her mother’s chosen profession. Seconds later, there was a sharp sound from below that was closer to a yelp than a moan. “Nice going, Albert!” Maureen congratulated him. “Wow! Look at all that cum on my boobs.”

“Albert came,” Monica announced without a trace of emotion. “I’m happy for him.”

Part Three

Maureen serviced two other customers during Harold’s time with her daughter. Despite the distractions from below, Monica and Harold had a successful session that lasted more than two hours. She now understood the steps regarding how to add and subtract fractions having different denominators. Learning the times tables by heart made that math skill considerably easier to master. Based on Monica’s notes, they had plowed through the general concepts that were supposed to be taught over the first three months of the eighth-grade math curriculum. Monica was more than pleasantly surprised that, with Harold’s invaluable help, she was now ‘getting’ math for the first time in her young life.

At about that time, Maureen silently ascended from the downstairs area to the kitchen. “How are the math lessons coming along?” she asked both of them.

“Mom, I get it now! I really do. Harold explains things so much better than my teacher does. He made it make sense. Watch this!” Monica proceeded to do several questions about fractions and ratios that she randomly selected from her textbook. She solved them with little to no difficulty.

“Are her answers correct, Harold?” Maureen keenly asked him.

“Yes, absolutely!” he replied. “Today’s progress is a good start for her!”

Maureen was shocked. “That’s a huge understatement!” she declared. “I’ve never seen Monica so excited about math and so eager to tackle questions. Harold, you are nothing short of a miracle worker! This is wonderful!”

Harold almost blushed at the praise. “All she needed was a bit of guidance and to revisit some skills that she should have mastered five years ago,” he said. Then he continued, “I’m glad I could be of help. I could come by tomorrow afternoon and do some more work with Monica, if you would like me to do that.”
“Well, certainly!” Maureen readily agreed. “Harold, how do you want to be paid for today?”

“Paid?” Harold asked with a surprised expression on his face. “I wasn’t expecting to be paid at all. I did this as a good deed for a new neighbor.”

“Nonsense!” Maureen insisted. “You provided a valuable service to Monica—and you deserve to be compensated for your time and effort.”

Harold was about to decline any monetary payment, when Monica rose from her chair and said to her mother. “I’d like to pay Harold for today’s math instruction in the special way you suggested to me, Mom.”
Harold was slightly uncertain about what Monica meant. Her mother made it abundantly clear to him, however.

She said, “Harold, you are a smart young fellow. You probably figured out what I do downstairs. I’m not ashamed of it. Thousands of women around the world do it. It’s the best way I know to make a living. I provide a desired service for males. I try to do my job well—and my customers seem to enjoy what I do for them.

For your payment, Harold, I was going to give you an hour in bed with me—but Monica wants to do it herself for you. Isn’t that right, dear?”

“Yeah, of course I’ll fuck Harold!” Monica declared with enthusiasm. He was so excellent with his math instruction that he definitely deserves it!”

Harold was speechless, but the two females in the Clemences’ kitchen with him were still quite talkative on the subject. “Monica is 14 years old and she’s already sexually active,” Maureen acknowledged. “She takes after me. I was sleeping with boys at an even earlier age. I was just taking after my mother, however. I slept with one of her customers at age 14 when I was offered a lot of money by him. Likewise, Monica wants to do exactly what I do to make money. How can I justify stopping her when I make a good living being paid to have sex—and I enjoy doing it 99 percent of the time?”

Harold was not stupid; he swiftly caught on to the general idea. “If Monica wants to have sex with me in exchange for my math lessons, I’m all in favor of it,” he said excitedly. “Of course, I think it’s a great idea. I also think Monica is quite beautiful—just like her mother is!”
“Can we use the bed downstairs, Mom?”

“Yeah, I just changed the bedsheet. Everything is ready for my next customer—except he is your first customer, Monica. Remember what I taught you. Show Harold a good time!”

Harold loudly said, “Hey, wait a second!”

“You’re not saying no to sex from me, are you Harold?” Monica asked him with a concerned look on her pretty face.
“Oh, of course not!” Harold replied. “I just better phone home first to tell my folks I’m going to be late for dinner tonight.”

Maureen just laughed. “What a good son you must be,” she said to Harold. “Better yet, you can tell them I’ve invited you to have a meal with us. I’m a pretty fair cook. Don’t mention the sex part, of course. Do you like homemade lasagna, Harold?”

Part Three

Monica took Harold by the hand and led the way down the flight of stairs. They turned left and opened a door to a room that was dominated by a large bed in its center. As they stepped inside the room, Harold decided to be honest with his math student.

“I have to admit this is a new experience for me, Monica,” he stated.

“Do you mean having sex with a prostitute is a first for you?” she asked him kindly
.
“No,” Harold stated and then paused. “I mean having sex with a girl, period. I’m not exactly a popular or handsome guy, so I don’t get a lot of sexual offers. In fact, I’ve never had one—until right now!”

“Hey, there’s nothing at all wrong with that,” Monica consoled him. “Everyone has a first time sometime. I just hope you’ll enjoy doing it with me.”

“There’s no doubt about that part of it!” Harold responded. “Monica, I just hope I don’t disappoint you because you’ve apparently had lots of experience at this. Sadly, I’ve had absolutely zilch.”

Monica replied, “Wow! You’re going to be the oldest boy I’ve ever had sex with...and you seem to be the least experienced of them all, Harold. Don’t worry, though. We’ll have fun and you’ll enjoy it!”

Monica suggested that Harold strip down to his briefs. She did the same by removing all her clothing except for her bra and panties. Harold thought that Monica looked very desirable in her skivvies, but he definitely wanted to see more of her. He could feel his erection getting larger and harder by the second! “Let me see the rest of you!” Harold demanded anxiously.

Monica responded by removing her white bra sexily, dangling it from her left hand, and then casually dropping it onto the plush, red carpet that covered the floor. Monica had only average sized breasts for a typical 14-year-old girl, but Harold thought they were magnificent. Monica then dropped her pink panties to her ankles and stepped out of them. Harold noticed she had no public hair and stared at her bald vagina.

“Since I’ve been having sex, I’ve been shaving down there,” Monica explained without being asked. “The eighth-grade boys I screw tell me they like it that way.”

“Give the people what they want! That is a wise policy in any business, Monica!” Harold told her with a grin. Monica did not respond to the remark. Instead, she stepped forward and yanked Harold’s underwear down to his ankles. His erection, freed from being confined, shot straight upward.

“Someone wants sex!” Monica joked. “You have a nice dick, Harold. Let’s see what you can do with it!” Monica signaled for Harold to meet her in the center of the large bed.

Monica insisted on some romantic kissing to begin her sexual encounter with Harold. “I’ll give you a hand job while we are kissing,” she informed him. Monica did too good a job on Harold’s penis. Within three minutes of her handling his stiff rod, Harold ejaculated—prematurely, of course. He uttered a few mild cuss words in response to his inability to control his biological impulses.

“Hey, that’s okay, Harold. I’ve had other boys come quicker,” Monica tried to console him. “Some don’t even get their pants off before they let loose with a cum blast. By the way, that was quite a load. Have you been saving it for a while?”

“I think the last time I masturbated was about three weeks ago,” Harold calculated.

“See, you were like an overripe tomato. One little touch and you burst. It's been three weeks since you last ejaculated, is that what you sid? It stands to reason that you came so quickly, Harold. It’s perfectly normal.”

Harold muttered sadly, “If you say so, Monica. You are the expert here.”

The experienced and worldly 14-year-old Monica said encouragingly, “Let’s wash your cum off both of us and try again. I bet you have a second cum shot in your balls for me.” Monica got a warm cloth and some paper towels and did the job. Then she started to stimulate Harold’s dick back to a hardened state.

“Your penis is stiff again,” she informed her bedmate. “Okay, let’s get serious! There is to be no fooling around this time, Harold,” she commanded. “Stick it in my bald pussy and give me a good fucking!”

Harold was delighted for a second chance to prove to his student that he was at least a competent sexual partner. Monica assumed the receiving position for a traditional missionary fuck, spreading her legs widely for her teenage math instructor. The feeling of sliding his dick inside Monica’s vagina was fantastic. Very slowly, he pushed it inside her as far as it would go.

“You have a big one, Harold. It’s maybe the biggest dick I’ve had,” Monica said to raise Harold’s deflated ego. “Now start moving it in and out. That would please me.”

Harold complied. He also began joyfully playing with Monica’s bouncing breasts. Harold could not decide which part of Monica’s body was the most fun to use. Just as he was about to lick her erect nipples, Harold suddenly ejaculated again. This time his dick was where nature intended it to be—inside Monica’s warm vagina. Harold’s second orgasm was smaller than the first one, but it felt almost as pleasurable to him. He groaned with delight before saying, “I think your pussy was built for the sole purpose of having me fuck it!” It was a wild declaration considering that Monica was far from being new to sexual activity. Be that as it may, Harold had almost forgotten about his initial embarrassment for coming prematurely from Monica’s effective hand job.

Harold and Monica spent the next half hour simply cuddling together on the bed. Of course, Harold’s hands tended to wander a bit until they found their rightful places on Monica’s supple tits.

The twosome was mostly silent until Harold asked an important question. “After tomorrow’s math lessons, will we be having sex again?”

“Oh, most definitely!” she answered. “I think I’ll do even better with my math on Sunday.”

“I think I’ll do better with my penis, too,” replied Harold with a hearty laugh.