Personal Ads Ch. 01

Story Code: M/F, MM/F, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Interracial

***

John had the bad fortune to be in exactly the wrong place at the wrong time, he was driving from Leicester to Nottingham along the A47 when a thirty ton tipper truck crossed the divide and used my husband's car as a break!

Twenty years of marriage, twenty years of looking after John's house, twenty years of looking after him, twenty years of entertaining him in his bed, ostensibly to make a baby but I just guess that he was a bit of a sex maniac really. John was only home three nights a week, spending the other four travelling around selling various kinds of insurance and on the three nights that he was home, all he wanted to do was fuck.

I was eighteen when I married John, straight from school, I had friends in Newcastle where I grew up but when John got a promotion at the Newcastle Premium Life Insurance Company we had to move to Northamptonshire, John had to set up a new office and start to expand the company's network. John had Leicester, Derby, Nottingham, Northampton and Peterborough in his area, seeking out leads and filtering appointments out to more than fifty salesmen.

In twenty years living in Northampton, I'd never managed to make any friends, as soon as people heard my accent; they closed ranks so now I was a forty year old widow without a friend in the world. I didn't even know if I had any money in the bank to live on but John being in the insurance business, I assumed he'd have life insurance...

I started cleaning house, my husband's job necessitated reading local newspapers to gather addresses, telephone numbers or contact details from 'Births, Deaths and Marriages' or as John called them, hatched, matched and dispatched.

I cleared more than a thousand old newspapers out of John's office. When I returned from the recycling bank I found the latest newspaper from Leicester. I'd have to find out where John ordered that paper from to cancel it. I was about to throw the paper in the bin unread when I realised that it would have been a waste so I sat down with a coffee and started reading.

There was little in the way of news, the paper seemed to be one long stream of advertisements. I stopped at the personal ads; the 'Births Deaths and Marriages' were encircled by personal ads. My eye was drawn to an expensive looking advert, 'Fun loving lady, early fifties, seeks similar for friendship and travel. Box 556!'

My first thought was, 'Just how desperate must a person be to place an advert like that?'

I closed the paper and went to bed; I tossed and turned for hours but couldn't get to sleep. I realised that with John gone, I would have to find something or someone to fill the empty space in my life. I didn't relish the prospect of getting out on the meat-market...or should that have been the meet-market...

Page 1

I hauled myself out of bed at four o'clock in the morning and jotted down a quick note...the thing that had me tossing and turning mostly was, what would I put in my own personal advert, how would I describe myself in twelve words or less...I couldn't, I was far too complicated. The natural progression from that first thought was...how would I have answered 'Box 556's' advert. I made six attempts and at six o'clock I had something that I thought I could send. I was really sleep-deprived or I wouldn't have sealed the letter in an envelope and addressed it to 'Box 556, Leicester Mercury'.

I actually convinced myself that with such vague address, my response to 'Box 556' stood very little chance of being delivered so I promptly forgot all about it.

I didn't want to go out, I know that it was crazy but I got the feeling that everyone, even people that didn't know me, were avoiding me and giving me pitying looks. I set about cleaning house...starting from the food cupboards. There were certain foods that John liked, that I ate only because he liked them, I didn't bother cooking any of those. I gathered anything that was unopened and dried or tinned, I crept out of the house at ten o'clock, just before my local supermarket closed and dumped John's favourite dried or tinned food in their 'Food for the homeless' program's collection bin.

I spent two weeks eating out of my cupboards and freezer and was just getting to the point that I'd need to go shopping, I had plenty of money, I got an instant payment of fifty thousand pounds from my husband's life insurance and discovered that even our mortgage had an inbuilt insurance built into it that if either one of us died the house would be paid off completely. I had no idea what I'd be worth in the end because my husband was at work when he died, his company would make a 'Death in service' payment as well as a sum from compensation from the company that caused my husband's death but that would be settled in a court case at some point in the future.

I met the postman on the drive as I was heading for my car to go shopping for the first time since my husband died, he had just one letter for me, the envelope was white and my address was handwritten in copperplate script, 'John's Great Aunt!' popped into my head, she was the only person I knew that took such care when writing a letter. I threw the letter on the front passenger seat and drove to the supermarket. I was wearing a wide brimmed hat with my coat collar turned up so that I was as hidden as possible on my way to the shop and when I got there I popped on big sunglasses, even my own mother wouldn't recognise me but I still felt like people were looking at me, pitying me!

My shopping trip started out okay, I collected a large trolley so that I could replace all of the food I'd eaten over the previous month, I walked through the doors calmly, I selected a bunch of bananas from the fruit and veg stalls. I knew I needed potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, green beans and onions but with just bananas in my trolley I walked on towards the dry goods area, I collected a kilo bag of porridge. I was walking quicker now; I managed to grab a loaf of bread and a bottle of milk before running to the checkouts.

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I was just short of hyper-ventilating by the time I put my meagre shop into the boot of my car. I drove home and made a pot of coffee and sat in the living room to try and get my breath back and suddenly remembered the letter from John's Great Aunt, still sitting on the front passenger seat of my car. I couldn't face going back out to the car, 'The letter will still be there in the morning!' fired off in my head and even though it was only four o'clock in the afternoon, I went to bed. I wasn't physically exhausted; it was more emotionally tired and mentally exhausted. I did feel a little guilty at leaving John's Great Aunt out in the cold but John had been dead for a month now so one more day before her condolence letter is read wouldn't hurt.

I slept in short bursts, thirty minutes sleeping and an hour staring at the ceiling, it had been over a month since I'd stared at the ceiling with John on top of me, I used to try and hold off my orgasm as long as I possibly could even though I really enjoyed sex and the orgasm but just before I married John my oldest friend got drunk on my 'Hen' night and told me that if I wanted to make sex sessions last longer after my honeymoon I had to hold off my orgasm, "Once the shine has worn off his new toy, he'll do you until you climax and he'll follow you straight away thinking his work is done for the night..." My friend chose that moment to slide off the bar stool and onto the floor of the bar.

I woke again at one thirty in the morning; I'd been in bed for almost ten hours but had only actually been sleeping for around three and a half hours. I woke to find that I was actually rubbing my breasts through my nighty and in a half dream I rubbed my hands down over my ribs towards my pussy, as my fingers reached my pubic hair through my gossamer thin nighty I realised that I'd absentmindedly dressed for John...

Whenever John was working away from home and I knew that he wouldn't be home I would go to bed wearing a thick winceyette night gown that reached down to my ankles, I would also wear my bra and knickers to bed and in the winter I also wore long bed socks but on the nights that John would be home or even if he could be home, I'd wear one of my very short nighties and nothing else to bed. I'd absentmindedly worn John's favourite nighty when I went to bed at four o'clock and I was dressed as if John was coming home. I was just about to run my fingers down between my thighs and I jolted myself to a stop, I'd never masturbated in my life before and I was just about to do it for the first time in my life.

I dragged myself out of bed, I was still tired but I needed a walk to try and clear my head and walking around the village at two o'clock in the morning at least I shouldn't bump into anyone else!

I slipped my feet into wellington boots and headed for the front door, I caught my reflection in the hall mirror as I opened to door and stopped myself...I really did have cotton wool where my brain should have been, I'd really dressed for John in bed, My shortest nighty, white tulle that was totally see-through, the nighty came with frilly knickers as a kind of 'Baby-doll' thing but Johnny threw the knickers away because he didn't like me wearing knickers in bed, even if they were see through.

I used the now open door to shield myself from anyone that might be looking in my direction, I could get dressed but I was only planning on walking the mile around the outskirts of the village and then I'd be going back to bed to try and get some quality sleep. I had an Australian 'Drover's' coat, it was ankle length, water-proof with a short cape collar, it had four layers of waterproofing over the shoulders and double waterproof layers over the rest of the coat. There was a long vent slit up the back of the coat with a two button patch just above the backs of my knees that could be unfastened so that the coat could be worn whilst riding a horse. I pulled the coat on and fastened the front, there was only six buttons down the front, the bottom button was just about level with my crotch, again, designed for riding a horse.

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The street was in darkness and once I'd turned off my own hallway light, the only point of light in the street was from the living room window across the road. I'd never spoken to the couple that lived in that house but John and Paul were on regular speaking terms. I could see Paul sitting on his sofa watching TV on his own. My house had a short drive but Paul's house fronted straight onto the street so standing on my front step, I could see every detail in Paul's living room, I could also hear Paul's TV because all of his windows were open as it was such a warm night.

I turned left at the end of my drive, the street lights in the village went off at midnight, we'd been told that if we'd agree to having the 160 Watt MBTL lamps that illuminated our village swapped for the more usual 35 Watt SoX lamps, we'd get more lights and they'd be left on all night but people in the village preferred the brilliant blue/white light that the blended mercury lamps gave out over the dull orange glow of the sodium lights. So, even though the village had sixty lamp posts, at two o'clock in the morning, it was totally dark.

I'd only walked a few hundred yards when I saw a car's headlights in the distance, a car was heading for my village and I didn't want to be spotted by its driver so I sidestepped through the gate and into the small village park at the back of the Village Hall. The gate gave a little squeak, little louder than a mouse's voice.

I heard a female voice a few feet away in the darkness, "What was that?"

"Just wind in the trees...come on Gail, let me fuck you, it is my birthday after all!"

"Gavin, I've already told you that Paul's expecting a fuck tonight...it's the only reason he agreed to let me go with the girls to watch the 'Chippendales' show in Northampton and the last thing he wants to do is find your deposit in me when he fucks me!"

"I've got a condom!"

"Gavin, I'm not going to let you fuck me tonight, Paul's working the two till ten shift tomorrow, you can come round to my house as soon as you see him leave, he'll go around one-thirty."

A sudden shaft of moonlight shattered the dark from a small hole in a large summer storm cloud, fortunately the shaft of light only illuminated Gail and Gavin, I recognised Gail, she was the wife of the Paul that lived across the road from me and she was standing kissing Gavin, the young man who lived at the end of our street, before he went to university, he was our paperboy, he delivered eight newspapers to John every evening and he always came to the back door and handed the papers over to me or to John so they weren't creased up by going through our letter box in the front door.

Gavin was pulling at a bow tied at the side of Gail's dress. I had to put my hand over my mouth to stop my gasp becoming audible. Gail was wearing a simple wrap over dress that was only held closed by a simple bow tied at over her left hip. Gavin was holding her dress wide open; I could see her underwear, a very lacy white bra, thong and suspender belt. My view was blocked as Gavin slipped his arms behind her back inside her dress, as he kissed her it looked like he was fucking her as they stood there. Gail twisted her body and pulled away from him, "I told you 'No!' Gavin, I'll give you a hand job tonight but that's all!"

Page 4

"What about a blow job instead?"

"Paul would taste it in my mouth or smell it on my breath; it's just a hand job or nothing!"

"I can do that for myself."

I saw Gavin pulling Gail's body against his again and once again Gail pushed him away as he seemed to be trying to fuck her standing up again, this time I saw Gavin's cock, Gail was pulling the thin string that formed her thong's gusset back into place, "I said no and I mean it...why don't you go and visit Anna, she's madly in love with you?"

"She's too young for me."

"She's two years older than you."

"You know I prefer women who are closer to my mother's age."

"Why don't you give the Widow Clarke a knock, according to my Paul she was always at it with John before he died, she's been on her own for a month now, she must be climbing the walls by now!"

I had to hold back another gasp as I was looking at Gavin's vigorous cock in the shaft of moonlight. There was something about a nineteen year old's cock, especially when he's being told by a lover to try to get sex out of me...

"What makes you think she's sex mad like that?"

"Well, Paul had borrowed her husband's socket set at Easter and he saw John arrive home from work and ran over to give it back to him. John hadn't been in the house for ten seconds when Paul got to the kitchen door. He said that he was about to knock the door when he thought he heard the sounds of sex so instead of knocking at the door, he looked through the kitchen window. Victoria was bent over the kitchen table, face down, her dress was hanging over her head and she was totally naked under her dress and John was giving her one from behind and he was still holding his briefcase in his hand as he fucked her from behind."

"Perhaps I'll call round in the morning, see if Mrs Clarke needs anything doing around the house...I might not need to bother you tomorrow afternoon after all!"

"Don't you bleeding dare, fuck her in the morning if you like but you'd better be in my bed by two o'clock or there'll be trouble!"

Gail pulled away again, "I have to go, Paul may have seen the minibus go past after it dropped us all off at the pub."

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Gail ran away and Gavin reluctantly put his cock back in his trousers and followed her down the path. I was standing on the grass and Gavin passed me just a foot away, fortunately I was still shrouded in darkness. As Gavin and Gail had both walked towards my street I walked the other way, I would go past the Village Hall and then turn towards the church and go back to my street from the other direction.

I heard a deep gruff voice shouting from the direction of my street, "Just you wait until I get my hands on you...you little bastard!"

I froze as the sounds of heavy footsteps came up behind me on the path through the park. There was a collision, Gavin was being chased from our street and as he ran he was flailing his arms. When he crashed into me his left arm caught my left shoulder and his chest hit my right shoulder. Gavin wrapped his right arm around me and clung on hard to stop himself falling. His left hand had a grip on my left breast and his right hand was on my stomach. There was a mumbled apology and I felt his chin against the back of my neck, he seemed to sniff up my scent.

"Sorry Mrs, are you wearing 'Peach Blossom' perfume."

I didn't answer, I was trying to push his hands away from my body, his left hand slipped from my breast but he pressed his right hand against my stomach even harder. He brushed the flat of his hand across my buttocks through my coat and nighty, he soon found the vent up the back of my coat and his hand slipped inside my coat through the vent. I heard him chuckle as he discovered just how little I was wearing under my coat, the back of my nighty was lifted out of the way and as I wriggled and squirmed to try and get away from him his hand slipped between my thighs from behind and he stabbed two fingers up my vagina.

I heard a squelch as his fingers dipped into my soaking wet honey-pot, there was a little pain because he'd entered me so roughly as I tried to fight him off, "You're ready for a good fucking aren't you...you bitch...are you in heat today darling?"

He kissed my neck and he rammed his fingers in my pussy deeper. A hand came out of the darkness and grabbed my collar; "Got you...you bastard!" it was the same gruff voice that I'd heard earlier.

The fingers left my cunt and Gavin was on his toes again, I was left in the solid grip of another of my neighbours and he was shaking me. Just at that moment the shaft of moonlight hit the path on the park again and he suddenly saw who he had a hold of, I saw him as well, he was in pyjama bottoms and vest and his feet were bare...

"I'm sorry Mrs Clarke, I thought that you was that bleeding pervert that keeps peeping in on my wife, I was just going to the toilet when he reached in through the window and took a hand full of my wife's...well, a hand full of what he shouldn't have grabbed.

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I recognised the man, one of the larger Victorian houses had been converted into flats and he had moved into the ground floor flat a year earlier. I shook my shoulder to get his hand off of the little cape collar and this time I walked back towards my road. I hadn't said a single word, not to Gavin or to the man who had just grabbed my collar.

Paul's living room light was off but his front bedroom light was on and there were sounds of heavy sex drifting across the road from their open bedroom windows. I went to my bedroom which was directly opposite Paul and Gail's bedroom window. I didn't put my light on; I opened my curtain and looked out. My house was a little older than Paul and Gail's, my ceiling heights in the rooms were two feet higher than theirs so my bedroom window looked down into their bedroom. Gail was on her back on the bed and Paul was pounding his meat into her cunt. Gail was still wearing her wrap-over dress but it was open and she was still wearing her underwear, Paul must have just nudged her gusset to one side the way Gavin had tried in the park.

I saw a look of boredom on Gail's face; she was chewing gum as her husband fucked her. I watched as Gail looked at her watch and then she smiled and started to fake an orgasm. Three seconds after Gail started her fake orgasm Paul ran through his own. Paul was bright red and sweating as he rolled off of Gail's body, she on the other hand still looked fresh as a daisy.