Working Class

By the time little Roy was ready to start school and Sarah was enrolled in a day nursery, Holly started job hunting, but the prospects finding anything matching her aspirations was negligible. Part time office work to suit school hours were almost impossible to find. Eventually, one evening when I came home, she told me she had been offered a part time job. I thought I better show some enthusiasm for her initiative and I asked her to tell me about it.

She looked decidedly nervous when she said, "It's only Friday and Saturday nights at the 'Badger's Arms' from five till eleven thirty. They advertised for barmaids and I applied. I went and had my interview today and Mr. Evans asked if I could start this Friday?"

The expectant look on her face made it impossible for me to deny her anything. She obviously wanted the independence that earning her own money would bring and god knew, we needed it badly. The bad weather of late had stopped work at our site, so the money was going out a lot faster than it was coming in. I was still picking up odd commissions for portraits and that helped, but things were looking bleak. I smiled and asked, "What is he paying you?"

"As I have no experience as a barmaid, he offered £0.50 an hour, is that about right?"

It took me a little while to recalculate the newly introduced decimal currency back into shillings and pence, but it seemed more than fair. I told her that was pretty good money and asked how she was going to manage the kids. "I've got that covered, your Mum is going to come over and baby sit till you get in from work Fridays and of course, you'll be here on Saturday, so the problem is sorted." She said triumphantly. She had it all worked out, until I said, "There's one thing I'm worried about, how are you going to get home after work? I don't want you walking home at that time of night."

She had an answer for that as well, "Mr Evans has offered to run me home, so I've got that covered to!"

I knew John Evans, the landlord at the 'Badger'. He was nearly sixty and he and his wife had run the pub for years. I knew they wanted to employ a barmaid as his wife was getting too old for the job. He had told me over a pint one night that he needed to get some younger staff to handle the young bucks that had 'adopted' the 'Badger' as their local of late. He also said that he wanted a woman who would dress a bit sexy to keep the punters coming back in, nothing too outrageous, just a bit of cleavage or glimpse of thigh would do the trick. Seeing how badly Holly wanted this job, I kept that information to myself. I was mildly amused and wondered how she would handle that situation when it arose. So Holly started her new job as a barmaid that Friday and the extra money certainly helped.

That first Friday, I was still working when she went left the house to go to her new job at the Badger so, I had to wait until she came home to find out how she had dressed for her first big night. I was up waiting as I heard the car door slam and she came in looking rather tired. I helped her off with her coat and was surprised that she has a conservative skirt and a tight knit jumper on. It was V necked and displayed just a hint of cleavage, but her bra was clearly noticeable and I could see the outline of her nipples trying to poke through their restraining folds. I asked how her first day as a barmaid had gone and she said she had made lots of mistakes and broken a few glasses, but that she had enjoyed the being in the company of adults and that John had been very patient with her, teaching her how to pull pints and how the till worked. She had found it easy to count the costs of two or three drinks and ring them up, but when a large round was ordered it was difficult at first to memorise the total cost. The tills did not do it all for you as they do now, so a skilled server had to keep the running total in their head and chat with other customers at the same time.

Saturday came and we spent the day as most couples do, shopping and tidying up the loosed ends that we had neglected during the week. I watched as she dressed for work that evening and this time her skirt was a bit shorter and displayed her long perfectly formed legs to their best advantage. She was about to pull on a pair of tights but, I stopped her when I asked, "Won't you be too hot wearing them indoors in September?" She agreed and stepped into her tiny lace embroidered panties. Her bra was a black half cup affair and thrust her full breasts out and up, not that she needed any assistance in that department. She then pulled on a black knitted top with a deep scoop that complemented the bra beneath, then turned to me and asked, "Will I do, do you think?" I said, "as long as you don't bend over too much it'll be fine. Give them a flash now and then and your tips will soon be as much as your wages."

She smiled and stooped in front of the mirror to see just how much cleavage was on display and abruptly stood up and started to remove her top. I took hold of her and stopped her and she protested, "It's far too revealing, the punters will be able to see my bra and most of my tits, every time I reach for a pint glass!"

"So just rearrange the glasses so you don't have to stoop when facing them. Then you can decide when to give them the quick flash, I'm telling you you'll have them panting for a glimpse of you charms."

"You don't mind then, if your wife is ogled and lusted after by every man in town?" she said teasingly.

Kissing her hard, I said. "You know fine well that every Tom, Dick and Harry stare at you every time you walk down the street. You are so beautiful that they all wish that they were married to you, or that they stood a chance of getting into your knickers, but you're my wife and I love you and I know that I'm the only one to ever achieve that! So what if you show them a little of what they can never have, I want them to look at you and know that you are forever just that little bit out of their reach."

She giggled at that and said, "You're so cocksure of that aren't you? You never know, I might just surprise you one day and let one of them may sweep me off my feet and ravish me!"

To this day, I don't know if it was the sexy teasing or the fact that I had her pinned against the bedroom wall, but I felt my cock spring to attention and what's more she did to!

"I think the idea of me flashing my tits at the punters turns you on, doesn't it?" she teased.

"As long as it's only flashing and you come home to me, then you have my blessing, but only flashing!" I reiterated.

She smiled and kissed me and grabbing my erection she said, "Just you keep that thought and have this ready for me later and I'll tell you all about it! Now let me go or I'll miss the bus."

She left for work and I sorted out the kids tea's and then put them to bed after telling them a story. The rest of the evening, I tried to do some sketching, but each time I stopped and looked at what I had produced, it was impressions of Holly, semi clothed and draped along the 'Badger's' bar being ogled by dozens of leering men. Foolishly, I didn't destroy these titillating sketches, but shoved them into my drawing case.

Chapter 3 -- A warning bell sounds

Holly came home a little later that night, at around midnight. She explained that the bar had been very busy and it had taken longer than usual to get the punters out and clear up. I helped her off with her coat and kissed her deeply, searching for tongue with mine. I could taste the whisky on her breath as we stood there trying to undress each other and made a mental note to keep an eye on that. She didn't drink much at home and after a few glasses was pretty tipsy. We just about made it to our bed by the time we were both naked. She was as randy as I have ever seen her, hard nipples, dripping pussy and her hands were pulling on my cock as she begged me to fuck her. That, in itself was unusual, she had never used language like that before, but it did have the effect of spurring me on. She started her first orgasm before I even managed to get my erection fully inserted and had a few more before I, with a final thrust, shot my load as deep into her pussy as I could get. She turned over and was asleep before I could say goodnight.

I left for work at seven AM as usual and took her a cup of tea up before I left. She smiled and said, "Last night was the best sex we have ever had, thank you." I smiled, kissed her and left for work.

Life for the next few months settled into a pattern and Holly settled into her job very well. John had given her a 10p an hour raise and her tips grew as she got to know the regulars. We had managed to save a few quid towards Christmas presents for the kids even allowing for the fact that Holly had bought some new tops to wear for work. The tops were all designed to allow the punters a glimpse of heaven without being too risqué. She also bought some new bra's. She always modelled her new work clothes for me before wearing them publicly. We had some great sex after these modelling sessions. One bra in particular caught my attention, it was a black lacy one with a hole at each tip that allowed her nipples to stick out and press against her blouse. When she showed me, I had an instant erection and told her that she was not to wear that to work under any circumstances. She giggled and said, "Mmmm, I see what you mean! It is a bit raunchy isn't it?" But she never wore it to work that I am aware of.

I asked her permission to draw her wearing it which she readily agreed to. I posed her at the window, with the curtains drawn and reached for my case to get some paper and the drawings that I had completed some months ago tumbled out before I could stop them. Holly grabbed them and suddenly realised that they were of her. I waited to see what her reaction would be. She looked at them again this time more slowly before lifting her eyes to look at me she said, "Is this how you would like see me? Looking like a wanton slut, half naked in front of all those men? You've even drawn the bar fittings identical to those in the 'Badger'"

When I didn't answer straight away, she took that as an affirmative answer, but gave me another chance, "Do you really want to see me like this? Answer me!" she demanded getting angry at my failure to respond. Finally, I managed to find my voice and said, "No! Of course I don't want anyone other than me to see you like that. I sketched them on the evening that you first started at the pub, I was just doodling and was surprised as you are at the result. They're a pure fantasy, a figment of my imagination and I never meant for you to see them. I intended to destroy them and forgot. Please, give them to me and I will burn them now?"

"Uh, Uh." She replied shaking her head. Then she surprised me by handing them back and ordered to sign them. "I think this is some of the best work you have done, don't you dare get rid of them. You never know, there may be a market some day for erotic art like this."

I did as she ordered and then said, "By the way, there already is a market for illustrations like these. There are erotic novels and Men's magazines circulating that are crying out for art like this to enhance them."

She asked to know more and where I had learned about dirty books and things like that and a long discussion followed. I explained that working on building sites, top shelf Men's Magazines circulate and many of them contain not only photographs of naked women, but of erotic illustrations and reader's stories as well. To cut a long story short, she asked me to bring some home for her to read. I said, "OK, I will but only if you let me do this sketch of you dressed just as you are now!"

She smiled and adopted the pose I had previously put her in. I quickly completed the sketch and while she was in the mood arranged another pose, this time with the bra straps dropped off her shoulders. We were on a roll and I continued to slowly peel away her clothes until she was posing totally naked. Eventually she said, "I'm getting tired and my pussy's in need of some attention, so pack up and take me to bed and sort it out!"

I brought her some of the mags the next day and for many weeks after our sex life perked up in no end of ways.

Holly continued to work in the 'Badger' and Christmas came and went, our sex life was the best it had been for years. I put this down to the fact that she was slowly losing her inhibitions about flashing her tits at the punters and that with her wages, we were no longer having to count the pennies. The only concern I had was that she was coming back from work on occasions more than a little tipsy and I was concerned that she may be vulnerable to the attentions of some of her customers. I mentioned this to her and she reassured me that she was in no danger as John always made sure she was brought home safely. In any case, I was reaping the benefit as she was always more randy when she had been imbibing.

With Holly's encouragement, I contacted the publisher of one of the magazines and submitted some of my sketches of her in various stages of undress. I was delighted when I received a cheque for £30 for the four they published. They also requested that I identify the model, but I told them she was out of my imagination and didn't exist in the flesh. However, I subtly changed some of the features on my remaining sketches of Holly, just in case someone recognised her, we didn't need that to come back and haunt us. The same letter requested me to submit more sketches based on the some of their forthcoming stories. They gave me a précis of the story for guidance and some suggestions as to the pose required. Some of these requests were very raunchy and included the model using a variety of vegetables on herself as though masturbating and others replacing the vegetable with a vibrator. I rather nervously approached Holly and showed her this request and asked if she would pose for me. Instead of the indignant refusal I expected she was all for it and asked, "I can provide plenty of vegetables but, where will you get the vibrator?"

I told her I didn't know, but I'm sure I know a man who would. It only took a few subtle hints to my workmates and I had my contact for sex toys. I met him and bought several different models for Holly to select from. Some were massive, far bigger than my seven inches and I wondered what Holly would make of them. I had no need to be concerned she loved them all and we had some great times while I sketched her in the requested poses.

I submitted the sketches and this time the cheque was for £50 and accompanied with requests for more even stronger poses. This new line of artwork continued through the winter and into spring. We steadily accumulated a tidy nest egg that we used to take the kids away for a summer holiday. This was during a time when the package holiday to the Spanish Costa's were starting to get popular and we like thousands of others elected to go to Majorca. We had a great family holiday for the first time and returned from holiday much refreshed.

My work was steady and I was now site foreman for the company so our money troubles were a thing of the past, at least for the foreseeable future. With Holly's wages and mine. We were able to buy our first home, mortgaged for more than I liked, but Holly was so keen on the house that I couldn't refuse her. Our sex life had started cooling off a little. Our love making had deteriorated when the commissions for sketches dried up just after Easter. I was lucky if we got together twice a week now. I put it down to the demands of looking after two active kids and working long hours behind a bar.

One Friday evening she came home almost an hour later than normal and said, "We need to talk!" She had clearly been drinking as she slurred her words and staggered a little as she removed her coat and shoes. I dreaded hearing statements like that. Andy and his fiancé had just broken up and he had told me that's how their conversation started.

We sat down and she said, "The 'Badger' is entering two teams in the town's darts league. That means they will be playing a home match every other Thursday night and I have been asked if I will work Thursday's as well. They will pay me more for the extra shift, a bit like overtime I suppose. What do you think, should I do it?"

This was not to my liking, but I wanted to see where she stood on the subject, so I replied, "It's not up to me, it's you that's got to do the work. We don't really need the extra money, we are doing OK as it stands, but do you want to do it?"

She said straight away, "Yes I do, the extra money will help us buy a car instead of that dirty old van. The kids are getting too big to clamber about in the van, a car will be much more practical and I can take some lessons and be able to stop using the buses to get around the shops

Clearly her mind was made up before she came in the door, she just wanted me to rubber stamp it so there would be no recriminations from me when she came home too tired for sex. Up until now, we were only making love an average of twice a week, but Friday's and Saturday's were off the agenda and now it looked like Thursday's would be as well. Not wanting to disappoint her, I said, "Give it a trial up until Christmas. If it gets to be too much, you can simply tell them to find someone else."

Something about this new initiative didn't quite ring true. The John Evans that I knew never allowed a darts team in his shop. He said that they caused too much trouble and disturbed the neighbours at the end of their evening's entertainment. He wanted no truck with darts leagues. I asked Holly, "When did John Evans have the change of heart about Darts Leagues then, he would never have them in his shop before?"

"Oh." She replied, "John's no longer the licensee, it's Mr & Mrs Lees, Manny and Sylvia Lees. They took over the pub last month, John decided to retire as his wife is poorly and he needs to care for her. Anyway, some of the regulars approached Manny and asked if they could form a team and he said why not, it's a good way to increase sales on a usually dead night like Thursday's. So that's how it all came about."

This was the first time I had heard of the change and my first thought, who was bringing her home now that John was no longer in the picture. The second one was, why had she failed to tell me of something so obviously important to me in that context, she knew that it was one of my prime concerns when she took the job in the first place! I was angry and blurted out, "So just who is bringing you home now?"

"Manny or Sylvia, but it's usually Manny. He's talking about providing a taxi for Friday and Saturday nights as he has a lot of work to do after closing. The brewery wants the sales figures on orders processed every Monday morning and he likes his Sunday's relatively easy, so he does the books after closing each night."

Now, I had never met this Manny or his wife, John I knew and trusted and I wanted to find out a bit more about Manny Lees before I passed judgement on his character. I was concerned that he would try and take advantage of Holly, especially if she had been drinking as she had been tonight. I looked at Holly a little more closely but apart from the fact that her usually impeccable lipstick was absent from her mouth, she appeared to be the same as when she left earlier. I did note however that her skirt she was wearing was one of the shorter ones in her wardrobe and the blouse was semi transparent allowing her bra to be clearly seen. She had worn that outfit a few times before, but told me she felt uncomfortable with the transparency of the blouse and stopped wearing it. So why did wear it tonight?

I had nothing concrete to go on, but I had a feeling that there was more to this than she was telling me. I decided there was no point in getting into an argument until I had some real justification for objecting to this new arrangement and decided to let matters lie until I could find out. We left the discussion agreeing that she would work the extra nights until Christmas and review again then.