A Dark Tale Ch. 03

Sylvia.

I nearly stopped going on the bus after what that animal did to me, but he hasn't been around for a few days. I don't think I'd recognise him as such, because I didn't look at his face, but I'd know that bulk, and those scars on his hands anywhere.

I haven't seen my new boyfriend either, but I've been past his shop 3 times, and called in twice. The trouble is in a small shop like that it is more personal, and you get asked what you want. In York's we let people browse, we keep an eye on them, and you get to recognise someone who is likely to buy something, from those who are just passing the time of day.

I didn't like that guy in the tailors with the tape measure hanging round his neck, and those stupid glasses on a chain on the top of his bald head. He came up to me the second time and asked, "Is madam looking for anything in particular?" Yes the hunk who works here I felt like saying.

Anyway here I am waiting at the bus stop on a cold dark Tuesday morning. As the bus pulls up I can Frank is sat reading his book. I get on the bus, and I'm in luck, I sit next to him, he turns and smiles and I smile back.

"Sometimes, don't you just feel like staying on the bus and going somewhere different, not to work, you know, just see where the bus takes you?"

He smiles again, "The trouble is this bus just goes round and round the town."

I chuckle, "Yes but if it did go somewhere else, like some, I don't know, magical place where you could do what you liked, just for a day to break up the repetitiveness."

He nods, and closes his book "Okay, where would you like to go?"

Back to my bed with you would be a start, I think, "I don't know a favourite pub, a holiday," I laugh a little, "just somewhere where you could like be alone, or with a friend. I think a friend would be best."

"That sounds interesting; I think I'd like to be on a desert island. A few books, some jazz music, and I'd build a cabin."

"That sounds real nice," I chuckle again, and flick my hair, "in fact you can count me in if you're serious."

He sighs and is about to say something when the Olympic complainer from a few weeks ago interrupts us. He's got a clip board in his hand, and is asking us to sign a petition about the overcrowding on the bus. He stands there telling us that we shouldn't have to stand, and it was never like this in his day, which I'm guessing was the time carts were pulled by horses!

He asks us where we work, and he says he likes the tailor's shop Frank works in. When I mention York's he sniffs and says, they don't tell you in there if their gadgets need batteries, and he isn't going there again.

We're at the bus stop in town now, and Mr Complainer is still replying to my answer about the boxes having clear stickers on them, if an item needs batteries.

"It would help young lady if you knew your appliances, those notes aren't big enough, they do it on purpose you know, so they can get you back in there and tempt you to buy something else. Not me, oh no, I've learned my lesson."

"Well that's good to know, so I won't be seeing you any time soon."

He moves aside as I get up, "And that's another thing, you young people don't know how lucky you are, my dad fought in the war for the likes of you."

I'm off the bus now and heading towards the coffee shop. I turn to say something to Frank about the complainer, but he's heading off in another direction.

8 hours later I'm sat on the bus after a particularly boring day a work. I'm watching out the window for my black hunk. He comes round the corner carrying a shopping bag. He gets on the bus and pays. I can't believe my heart is pounding so much. I want to wave and scream at him that I've saved him a seat. He comes up the aisle and our eyes meet. I'm already smiling, but it takes him a little second to respond. He shuffles in next to me and produces my 2 inch hoop earring from his pocket.

"I think this is yours," he says looking at the earring in my ear.

I touch my ear like I haven't noticed one was missing. I thank him and say the stupidest cringe worthy thing, "It's a good job it wasn't my navel stud, people would wonder what we've been up to," He grins awkwardly, and I lift my hair, "Would you, please?"

He suddenly realises I want him to put it in. He fiddles with it pushing it in my ear. God, he's got a wonderful delicate touch. I want to turn my head and kiss his hand, but I don't. We chat on the way home. My arm is against his and he leans in to whisper in my ear. I want to turn my head and just press my lips on his, he's such a tease and I'm sure doing it on purpose to make me blush.

"Can I ask your advice, I bought this," he pulls out a red cardigan, "for my mum, her fingers are a little arthritic, so I thought the big buttons might be good, what do you think?"

I look at it and tell him it is nice, but perhaps he should have gone for one with a belt. I tell him how easier it would be to just tie it round her. He nods, and I can see him thinking that I'm right.

"I tell you what. Pop into York's tomorrow and I'll take you up to the clothing department."

I can see him thinking, finally he nods, and I do a little fist pump in my mind.

Geoff.

The fucking slut look at her, smiling and fiddling with her hair, it's teasing that is. So she dropped an earring. Hold on he's going to kiss her. No but what's he doing now? Well fucking me he's bought her a jumper or something. I bet it's a, "thanks for the fuck lunchtime Sylvia." I don't know for sure because I've been out of town for a few days, making collections. Then I took them to George, got myself nearly four hundred quid from three houses, not bad.

So he's given her a jumper, I mean a fucking jumper. Girls like Sylvia like flowers and chocolates, and sexy underwear well she has enough of that at home, not as much as she used to, but a fucking jumper, I ask you.

Sylvia.

I tell Frank about York's and how I wished I worked in the clothing department. In my mind I'm imagining Frank and me running a little shop, his and hers clothing. I can see the name above the shop now, Sylvia and Frank's, or Frank and Sylvia's, I don't care which way round it is.

"Would you like my number, just so I know when you're coming in?"

He looks a little worried. I bet there's a girlfriend. Oh shit, shit, shit!

"Okay," he says but he isn't really convinced.

We get to my stop and he gets up to let me out. God I wish he was getting of with me. Still I've got his number now, and he's got mine.

Geoff.

Poor Sylvia, she's going to be heart broken. I stayed on the bus to his stop after she got off, and some woman was waiting at his bus stop. She gives pretty boy a big kiss, some bitch with two kids in tow. They walk away from the bus, arm in fucking arm.

He's a two timing bastard, fucking Sylvia at lunchtime, and then off home to play happy families with his wife and kids. I wonder if Sylvia knows about her. I've got to know her so well that I actually feel sorry for her. She might act all stuck up, but now I've had a quick grope, I know she's just a tart. Well Geoffrey Baker you've hit the nail on the head. She was at his bus stop that morning, getting on with while his wife was away I reckon.

I thought she was different and I even decided on a new approach. She shocked me by not putting up a struggle that time when I had a feel of her leg, but now I know why. Sylvia wants and likes it, all the touching by me, and shagging him, a fucking a married man. I've stumbled on a right strumpet. So I am going to have to sort things for her soon, very soon.

Sylvia.

We go up to the clothing department. For some reason Frank wants to use the lift. He hit's the stop button and smiles at me.

"Sylvia, I've been thinking about you a lot. I want to buy you something. In fact I want you to take off all your clothes, here, now."

Frank stands back and watches me as I peel off everything.

"Take off your underwear too," he says with a flash of sexy white teeth.

He holds out his arm, and put my arm through it feeling so happy. He presses the button and we walk out together. Jan is there, and the store manager running around getting clothing for me to try on. Jan dresses me, pulling up my sexy panties and allowing her hands to graze my pussy.

The store manager puts a white bra on me, which matches my tiny white panties. He puts his hand in the bra adjusting my breast, tweaking my nipples a little.

I sit on one of the chairs, and the store manager slides my feet into sexy white high heels, with a gold spike on the heel. He caresses my ankle and strokes my leg.

Jan slides a white silk dress over my body and smoothes it down over my ass. I turn to smile at Frank, but it's not Frank standing there. It's my groper from the bus. Jan holds my wrists and pulls me over a chair; the store manager grabs my ankles, and then spreads them wide apart.

NO, NO, NO!

I restart the fantasy. It's Frank, gorgeous, sexy, smiling Frank. He takes me in his arms and kisses me. Oh it's the summer now, and we go up onto the roof. There's a waiter in a white shirt with black trousers. He pulls out a chair for me and I sit at the table. Frank sits opposite. The waiter opens a bottle of champagne. Frank and I smile at each other across the table. We eat and gaze at the most beautiful sunset.

I watch as Frank goes under the table. I feel his hands sliding my dress up. I moan in sheer delight as he slides my panties down my freshly shaved legs. I feel his head move between my spread legs and his tongue enters me. I start to stroke his head, and suddenly his hair has changed. I look down to see my bus groper's grinning face. His tongue is 12 inches long, and it lashes inside of me, leaving a sticky slimy trail on my thighs.

His tongue is rough like sandpaper, and no matter how much I scream, Jan and the store manager just stand there grinning at me. Horns sprout from the head between my legs. No scratch that.

He looks up at me and smiles, fangs click out of his mouth, like they do on that True Blood program. He bites into my thigh, but 12 inches of tongue is still fucking me at the same time. Jan and the store manager float a few feet off the ground, and my lovely perfect dress starts turning red with blood, as they bite and suck blood out of my breasts together. Jan moves up to my mouth, and her tongue is again long and rough like sandpaper, it looks like a cock on the end, and it is a cock, a cock that goes in my mouth and down my throat.

NO, NO, "NO!"

I sit up in my bed feeling all sweaty, and wondering why I can't stop thinking about the bus groper, when I should be thinking of my sexy black Adonis.

I've just had a dream about him, well Frank was in it, but he kept turning in to the groper on the bus.

I sit there in bed, feeling the sweat going cold on my body, and I almost laugh out loud when I think of what Bev would say about my dream. I was dreaming of Frank, but like all dreams they are so weird sometimes. The good dreams always seem to end just as a good bit is about to happen, hell is that frustrating?! I've tried going back to sleep in the past hoping to finish off the nice dreams, it never happens. Yes Bev would give me one of her worried looks if I told her about my dream. There are things I can remember vividly from the dream, but the bus groper's face is one that I cannot, but then again I have never looked at him directly so I probably wouldn't know his features.

I swear at the alarm clock when it wakes me up. I flick out my hand and switch it off. I still feel tired, and I lay in bed and snooze, and then wake up with a jolt.

Everything is against me today, and I've got to meet Frank. The dream is still in my mind but I get busy, trying not to think how I could possibly come up with the whole vampire and 12 inches of sandpaper tongue thing, in a bloody dream! Still things are looking up I managed to avoid a bad hair day, by jumping in the shower. I get dressed in record time, and I'm not even worried about wondering why my toilet seat is up again.

Geoff.

I stood there last night watching her toss and turn. I think she's going through some sort of mental thing about fucking another woman's husband. Her mouth opened wide too, I though she was gasping for air. I nearly went and put my dick in it, but I didn't.

That shrink I know could sort Sylvia out. He just sits there listening most of the time, and I have to be careful about saying the wrong things. He asked about my scar and my hands, so I told him I used to be a bare knuckle fighter. Sylvia likes boxers; I've seen the DVD's she has under her telly.

Don't worry Sylvia, Geoffrey Baker had a few words with lover boy, well if you call giving him a bit of thumping then that's what happened. I took his wallet too, just to make it look like a mugging; £25 was all he had.

She gets on the bus and I see her eyes searching, scanning around looking for that cheating bastard. She stands holding on to the bar as the bus pulls away. She looks a little different, her skirt is a little shorter, and her heels are higher. Hey is that a fucking suspender strap I can see making a thin line under her skirt? She's wearing that pink lacy bra too under her thin blouse, I recognise the pattern. I've seen it in her washing basket and felt it, through my fingers, and rubbed it against my dick. Obviously she was planning a sexy lunch again. Her eye lashes look longer and thicker, and the rest of her makeup is a little different too. She's made an effort for pretty boy, isn't it a shame she is going to be disappointed.

I suspect lover boy has crawled back to his house by now. He didn't know what hit him, well it was my fucking fist, and I've got the fresh cut to prove it. He'll be okay though because I held back, but it has given me taste to try my luck against the new boy who is being talked about. Bare knuckle fighter he is, I'll have to find out when he's fighting next in the woods near my dad's old farm.

Sylvia.

I didn't see Frank on the bus this morning, but I'm sure he'll turn up, and then I'll take him up to the clothing department. I hung off sending a text to him until 10.30. I asked him what time he was meeting me, I didn't get a reply. I tried again at 11, still nothing, and now it's lunchtime. Perhaps I should go and see him, god how desperate would that be? I'll try a text again, "Hey don't forget, I need to know what time you're coming, so I can meet you. X"

Two minutes later I get a call from his number. A woman demands to know who I am, and starts yelling at me that her husband has been beaten up and she is calling the police! I hear Frank in the background, eventually he talks to me on the phone, and he says he will explain everything to his wife. He says he was jumped from behind heading towards the bus stop this morning.

It's been a couple of weeks since Frank was beaten up, he phoned me a couple of days after it happened to say he was doing okay, but his wife didn't want him to be in touch with me anymore. I said I understood, although I kept it to myself that he could have said something about being married. He wasn't wearing a wedding ring, and I just assumed he wasn't married. I told him I had seen the write up in the local paper, and I couldn't believe he got beaten up for around £20, but that's what happens these days, thankfully not often.

So I'm back on foot or in my car when it rains. Going to work at the same time everyday, and using the same route I see the same people, often in the same place or near to it. Some people are coming towards me, some up ahead going in the same direction. Some I even know when they will turn off to go up a different street. One woman, she's slim with grey hair, wears trainers, I call her running woman. She carries a back pack and runs, or jogs would be a better word.

Another thing I like about using the same route is I get looked at by some guys, which has always given me quite a thrill. One guy is quite nice, but not my type, but he looks. But there is one guy especially that I've noticed. This guy seems to change direction, sometimes he is walking towards me, and the next time he might be following me. Now even at 8.40 there are enough people around for me not to worry, even after what happened to Frank. This guy is in his late 40's or early 50's I guess, and with big square shoulders. I'm thinking that he could be the same man as on the bus, but I don't know for sure.

He just leers at me, and he likes me to know I've noticed him doing it. I'm not bothered really, because there are people around, and anyway I don't see him everyday. Also I get a thrill from it, it makes my heart race and my palms sweaty, and sometimes, just sometimes I make myself look at him, just a quick glance, but I make eye contact. I always have a little slightly embarrassed look on my face, because I am, although maybe the real embarrassment is caused by what I'm thinking.

Geoff.

She's back to walking, that's good in one way, no more bus and no more of that man. On the other hand I just get a few seconds to drink her in. But yes I miss the bus in a way. I've changed what I wear too, I'm no longer digging up roads, so it is jeans and coat until the weather warms up.

I feel sorry for my Sylvia. Oops did I say my Sylvia? Well she isn't, yet. Yeah I feel sorry for her, fucking that black guy and him being married and all. What's his game, the prick, using my, using Sylvia like that. Still she's got a tight wet pussy it's enough to drive any man insane. She shows off her long legs which only get blokes like him, and me, wanting to see what's at the top. You see she likes men looking at her legs why else would she show them off? I've just adjusted to what she likes. I look at them now, just to give her what she wants. I got to be careful; I don't want her screaming about it.

Sylvia.

My boss the store manager has implied that I might get promotion. Jan is leaving in a few weeks, and the pleasure I would get having her show me the ropes as her replacement, would be unsurpassable. Jan doesn't like me, but hey so what, the store manager does. He called me in his office yesterday and told me he was seriously considering me for promotion, and I hadn't even put in for the job. He told me he liked me, and then coughed nervously.

Since his wife left him, he has told me he has been a little lonely. Well I gathered that last Christmas when he walked me home after the party, and he got a little carried away kissing me good night. The odd thing is I would have let him, but my nephew was staying with me that night, luckily Mr Barnard the store manager got cold feet. He mumbled a series of nonsensical apologies, and then scurried off.

So yesterday I think Mr Barnard was on the verge of asking me out, but I think he got cold feet again. He's nice, and according to Jasmine, he's sex on legs. He is in his early 40's and I really don't know why his wife would leave someone like that.

I'm going to work in black tights and my shortest work skirt today.

I go out my door, past the white van man waiting for his mate to come out of his house; he has a little look, (thank you.) I go down the hill, across the main road, up a side street in to town, and past a few shops. Some guy is unloading a lorry and has had a good look, oh and smile for me, (bless him.)

I'm heading up the alley now. The alley is long but narrow, which means two people can pass each other, but not three. On one side the whole length of the alley is the side of Waitrose the supermarket. It's just a high long wall with no windows, but an emergency door half way along. The other side of the Alley has a brick wall too; it's just over head height with a couple of gates set back in it. One gate goes through to the back of the bank, the other gate further on leads to the back of a disused shop.