If They Could See Me Now

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A neglected and betrayed wife joins a stag party.
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This is the latest of the adventures of Rebecca. This is set in 1980 Birmingham so no social media, no internet, no smartphones so characters can be more confident about not being found out.

A word of warning. I have deliberately chosen to have longish introductions, including back story and development of the underlying story and some flirtation before sexual activity takes place. That reflects my own preference in stories, but YMMV. I also prefer to have my characters consider the implications of their actions before saying what the heck, let's go for it.

This is an experiment for me. This involves Rebecca telling Bill a story about an incident in her past where a different woman is the main protagonist. I am riffing off the 1,001 nights set up. I would appreciate feedback on whether readers think this works or not or whether it would be better to have had Alison's story as a standalone.

Two warnings. First, this is set in the 1980s and the characters reflect the attitudes of that time. Second, although there is some group sex in this, I still think that it fits best within the Erotic Couplings category.

I am a new writer so constructive criticism (including negative) is gratefully received.

/============================================================/

Rebecca had prepared for her next meeting with Bill. She had fleshed out the Richard III analysis. She was in danger of believing in it herself. Richard had only been thirty when his brother died and had been out of London for much of the last few years being his brother's man in the north. She felt that few historians would have a problem saying that Richard had been fundamentally loyal during this period.

His brother had been only forty when he died and had made Henry VIII seem sober, chaste, and a picky eater in comparison. Brother Clarence who seemed to have been an arse of the first order had been executed for treason. The seventeen-year-old son of Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou had died in or shortly after the battle of Tewkesbury (whether in battle or summarily executed after capture was open to argument) and Henry VI had been killed in the tower shortly thereafter. Inconvenient people died in late fifteenth century England and the idea that his young son might join Clarence's son in the tower following his death would have been a strong motivator.

Elizabeth Woodville and her family obviously wanted her son to favour them and there were plenty of allies for keeping them out of power. Many good reasons to go after the queen's family and then tell young Edward he had been protecting the boy's interest and hope that he had five years to play with before the young man became king to talk him round. Arrogant young whippersnapper probably did not engage brain and failed to hide his desire that Uncle Dickie would be the first man on the chopping block when he became king. Yes, she could work with that and just needed to find a few more primary sources which made that stack up.

Mr Hampton had been helpful in this regard when she approached him. He had suggested a few secondary sources and how to get copies of the primary sources. She was working on a plan to repay his support without making him feel too guilty. She was growing her hair and experimenting with ponytails and make up to make her look more like his prick teasing fiancée and less like herself. Actually, more like a slutty version of his fiancée and as little like the Rebecca he knew as she could. It helped that in school she still wore a version of the school uniform for everyone below the sixth form. She would not want to marry him herself, but he could do better than that professional virgin.

Bill was ecstatic when she described her fleshed out argument and had given her a cheque for £60 in return. He had also given her a copy of the draft contract he had had James draw up for her. In it one of his companies promised to pay her £100 a week plus expenses for six months for her services in relation to the proposed Richard III permanent exhibit which would be sponsored by the company in memory of his deceased wife. The contract allowed scope for bonuses in the event that a museum agreed to the proposal and for assisting in obtaining a historian to put his or her name to a guide.

He had almost been as ecstatic as when they tried out the next position which was his choice. It was just as well she had long legs and a certain degree of flexibility. It also appeared that there was some ambiguity as to exactly what the position involved.

She was not certain that she recalled the chaise longue from last weekend. Perhaps he had moved it into this room for the purpose of their experimentation process as it gave some comfort for their horizontal exercises. Before they had even started he had presented her with new lingerie including a basque and French knickers. She had put them on and decided that the main advantage of French knickers was that they allowed a woman to claim that they had never taken off their knickers while still being fucked as hard as the man wanted. Actually, having tried them on she loved the soft material close to her skin. Compared to cotton pants it was almost like the difference between Bronco and Andrex when wiping one's bottom. She had not tried sandpaper, but Bronco felt as though it was the equivalent.

After the history discussion she had got changed into the basque, the French knickers and the silk stockings that he had bought her. She had looked at herself in the mirror and had realised for the first time how much more attractive and sexier she looked in expensive lingerie.

While she was changing Bill had put the meal which his housekeeper had prepared for him earlier into the oven in the kitchen to warm up. He had also opened two bottles of wine in order to allow them to breathe. He had changed into a silk dressing gown over his shirt and boxer shorts. She could smell that he had had bathed before she arrived. She appreciated the consideration this showed.

She had also showered before she came over and had put on perfume. She was not entirely sure about the perfume she had chosen, but she had no obvious people to consult on how to smell sexy but not like a tart. She was reluctant to ask Bill as it would seem too much like her demanding more gifts. Perhaps in the future she could ask which one he preferred.

They kissed and he put one hand on her bum and squeezed while the other hand played with her hair, ears, and neck. She untied the belt of his dressing gown and slid her left hand down the back of his boxer shorts while her right hand pulled him towards her so that he was tight against her breasts. They kissed as he lowered her French knickers preferring not to try bonking her while she was still wearing them at least at this stage in the relationship. He started to finger her, and she found that she had no need to pretend to be stimulated. Perhaps he had been better at foreplay than he believed he had been or was simply a quick learner.

He gently pushed her in the direction of the chaise longue, and she readied herself for lying horizontally. She was amused to see that a towel had been placed strategically. She sat down on the chaise longue and removed his boxers. She kissed his penis and then sucked it until it was fully erect.

She was not normally a fan of fellatio, but the man had just showered. She also knew that men liked it, and it was useful in ensuring that a man was ready for action. She astonished herself by being able to get enough of it in her throat so that her bottom lip was up against his balls. He had gasped appreciatively so she knew that this would be one she would need to keep in her repertoire. As she was not ready to swallow any one's sperm, she quickly moved to putting the condom on him while he took off his shirt. He had taken the view that as he would not insist on exclusive occupation of her vagina that it was only fair on both of them to take precautions against both pregnancy and disease.

He pushed her back so that she was lying flat on her back. He had told her that he wanted to bonk her while she was wearing the stockings and the basque. She had no objection to this, but it was slightly odd realising that she was wearing more than he was. He had even taken off his socks while insisting that she wore her heels.

He leant on top of her and kissed her. Initially gently and then, as their tongues touched, more passionately. She then started to raise her legs as he positioned himself to enter her so that her ankles were over his shoulders. She realised that part of the stimulation for him was having her stockinged legs so close to his neck. He inserted himself and pushed downwards.

While the description in the book had warned her, she was surprised by how deeply he had penetrated her and how much she was enjoying it. She started to shout out in a mixture of excitement and mild pain. Luckily the first feeling outweighed the latter and soon the pain was insignificant.

He had relaxed since last week and was now ready to stop treating her as though she was a piece if delicate pottery without being sadistic. He pressed forwards and her legs bent further back while his penis penetrated deeper. She enjoyed feeling his excitement and held on tightly to his back and even pulled him further towards her which meant her legs went close to her own shoulders.

Both of them began to shout and she encouraged him to let go of any remaining inhibitions. "I can take it all, fill me up. Fuck your Jane Shore as hard as you like, she's a sexual freak."

He shouted "I never knew that being so bad could feel so good. I'm lucky to have you as my good time girl."

He slowed down and moved towards deep slow thrusts into her. She screamed with pleasure and clawed at his back. Luckily she did not go in for long nails, so she did not draw blood.

He then started to speed up the thrusts and pushed her legs further down. The limits of her flexibility were being reached, but the look of joy on his face meant that she did not insist on wrapping her legs around his waist instead.

She gently moaned and encouraged him to enjoy himself. Referring to herself as Jane Shore rather than as a whore, slut, lover, or a mistress seemed to make life easier for both of them and reduced any feelings of guilt.

After around ten minutes and with some efforts on both their parts to delay the end he came. She had come a few minutes earlier and again the fact that her eyes had rolled had shown this to him. It was good that she had a tell which reassured him that she was enjoying it as well, but she was not sure she could fake it if she was tired one evening. Still, that was a problem which was not currently an issue and there were plenty of positions where she would not be facing him.

They had not immediately stopped holding each other and had cuddled and stroked each other. She felt it was important for both of them that as he became increasingly adventurous sexually he kept feelings of affection for her.

They had cleaned up and he had put on his shirt, boxer shorts and dressing gown while she had put on the skirt she had arrived in.

They went into the kitchen, and he got out the casserole of Boeuf Bourguignon with Gratin Dauphinoise and a green salad with dressing. They were delicious and she asked for the recipes. Bill thought about it and suggested that he buy her a copy of Elizabeth David's French Provincial Cooking. She was excited by the food as she felt that learning about good food would reduce the gap between her and her future fellow freshers at college. She also clocked that she would need to learn to be nonchalant about her knowledge rather than treat every conversation as though it was an exam question she was straining to score the highest possible marks on.

The meal was accompanied by a French red wine from the St Emilion area. She took a note of this and decided that further research was called for. She had watched the way he had poured a small amount into his glass, sniffed it and then taken a small sip and had tasted it carefully. He had nodded and said that the wine was excellent and was not corked. She made another mental note to read a book about wine tasting in the main Birmingham library. Just having watched him to do the tasting as a matter of course made her feel confident that she could learn to be convincing.

Over dinner Bill described his lingerie shopping expedition. Rebecca early on realised that this would turn into a confession. She prepared to be told that she was about to be dumped from the mistress role or told she was in a job share when she heard him say the girl's first name.

Rebecca said, "You say that her name was Joanna, a sulky cow, blonde, and that she is about my height and has long legs. Do you know her surname?"

"Latimer." He then showed her the photograph of the woman knickerless and with one boob hanging out,

She laughed, "She is the sister of a boy who dislikes me for being cleverer than him. She tried to help him by spreading lies about me once. She also tricked a classmate of mine into becoming the school bicycle. By the looks of it you helped her along the slippery slope to going back to the flat after work or being gangbanged on the road shows."

Bill laughed and briefly described what had happened and reassured her that this was a one-time thing. She decided to believe him when he said that he had not liked himself for using the woman that way and did not want to repeat the exercise. She felt relieved especially when he confirmed that he had worn a contraceptive when banging the woman. It was also clear that he was glad that she had taken it so well.

He had also produced the polaroid which showed Joanna swallowing a dick while being fucked as well as copies of the photographs which the owner had taken. She looked at them and then shook her head.

"Keep these. It would be too obvious who the source was if I leaked these. I doubt that I could resist the temptation to show George a picture of his sister expressing her true nature if you gave them to me."

He said, "Would you object if I introduced her to the nightclub owner?"

"I don't mind her earning money provided that it embarrasses George and ruins her reputation in the same way she did to Elizabeth."

He explained how he thought it would pan out and she nodded.

He asked what she thought about bullet bras and mentioned the 1940s and 1950s beauties who had worn them. Rebecca had thought about it and said, "I'm happy to give one a try if it turns you on and you don't mind risking having me poke one of your eyes out. I don't mind being Jane Russell, but Diana Dors is not me."

He had filled in the details of his story as they started on the second bottle of wine while eating cheese and biscuits. To her surprise, she enjoyed the taste of Stilton and Brie.

One thing about Joanna which had surprised him was the absence of hair down below and he told Rebecca this.

Rebecca replied, "She must have had a Brazilian. Clearly a woman who expects her vagina to be seen by many people."

She had continued, "I gave up on science after O level, but fundamentally apart from the appendix and the residual tail there is a reason for most parts of the human anatomy. Hair serves a function. Fuck, are all men like Ruskin nowadays and can't bonk a woman if she has pubic hair?

"

This had derailed the story for five minutes while she explained about Ruskin, his wife Effie and a group known as the pre-Raphaelites, not to mention Brazilians. He looked at Rebecca and kissed her passionately. She responded but then asked, "What was that for?"

"Assuming I knew more than I do and not being condescending when I didn't."

She had kissed him again at that point. She had whispered, "It's good to be appreciated for being the person I am and not being expected to hide my intelligence."

They went back into the drawing room and laid down on the chaise longue. He had brought down another dressing gown for her and she put that on over the lingerie. They jokingly discussed how he was going to hide the contraceptives from his housekeeper and Rebecca volunteered to take them away with her. "All part of the service, guv."

He settled down to listen to her story about a woman she had met during the summer holidays.

/-------------------------------------------------------------------------/

Rebecca had dyed her hair blonde in the summer holidays to see what difference it made to how people reacted to her and whether it made it easier for her to get summer jobs.

Marion had worried that she was working too hard at her books and insisted on Rebecca joining her on holiday in Wales. They were staying in a caravan just outside Saundersfoot which Marion had rented for two weeks.

The weather had been fine, and Rebecca had even done some sunbathing in the morning (although reading the Fontana History of Europe was perhaps unusual choice of sea side reading. At Marion's request she was pretending to be a girl called Terry Carr. Marion was looking for some fun and could pass for thirty if it was not clear that her friend was the daughter of a contemporary of hers.

Terry was meant to be a friend of Marion's from a pub and the story was that they were sharing the cost of the holiday. Marion had scored on the second evening with a local businessman and so had not needed Rebecca as a wing girl after that.

Rebecca had decided on trying for Oxbridge that autumn and wanted to earn money on holiday to fund her during the three-month period when she would be focusing on her studies and not doing bar work in the evening or a Saturday job. In her role as Terry, she had checked with the local pubs and restaurants to see if there were any part time jobs going on a cash basis. The answer seemed to be not really, but occasionally shifts would need covering because the normal girl was too ill or hungover to work.

Not being on the phone and not being known to the local employers meant that this had not looked very promising. Luckily Marion's beau had agreed to allow Rebecca to give out his secretary's number to the pubs and restaurants and she checked in at his office three times a day.

The secretary had taken a shine to her and had filled her in on the reputation of the places she was looking to be employed by. She also approved of the fact that Terry had a range of waitressing outfits with her. One was the normal knee-high black skirt and smartish looking (if cheap) white blouse which would be the default for restaurants. Rebecca could do silver service and this way she could fit in with most employer's dress code. She had two other blouses; one was formal and buttoned all the way up and the other was designed to accentuate cleavage and had frills.

She had black trousers for those few places which liked their waitresses to be dressed like that and more importantly for the places were the clientele considered that one of the things they were paying for was feeling the bum of the waitress. She did not object too much to men feeling her up provided they could not stick their fingers in her cunt in a matter of seconds.

She also had, courtesy of Marion, what was best described as a French maid outfit. Very short, pleated black skirt which allowed the stocking tops to be seen if you bent over and a blouse with a plunging neckline which was virtually see through.

She kept the outfits in a small bag at the office of Marion's holiday beau. She had not expected to get much work, but on the fourth day she was offered a stint at a hotel/restaurant which was slightly up market in terms of food and had two private rooms upstairs.

Slightly up market meant that instead of simply chips with everything they offered a Berni inn type menu so people could have prawn cocktail, well done rump steak with chips, peas and a fried tomato and black forest gateau or cheese to finish. They also did lamb shanks with carrots, potatoes, and peas. Bronwen, the secretary, knew the owner and had mentioned her to him in the hotel bar the night before.