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Just then it began to drizzle and tiny raindrops sparkled in Charlie's hair under the lamplight like small jewels. Robin was standing close to her, pulling up the collar of the big coat to protect her face from the cold. Her green eyes shimmered and he could feel her sweet soft breath on his face.
Charlie looked up at Robin. His rumpled face matched his rumpled suit and his brown hair was mussed and damp. He had deep set sad brown eyes, a prominent nose and five o'clock shadow graced his olive skin. But he was handsome in a dishevelled way, like a puppy you wanted to snuggle.
"Robin Sparrow... really?" Charlie teased him.
"Shut up," Robin smiled and his features came together.
He was no longer the lost puppy; he was very handsome.
"Take me home detective," Charlie thrust her hands into the deep pockets of the coat.
They walked home side by side saying little but content that a fragile truce existed between them. When they arrived at the entrance to Charlie's bedsit it got a little awkward. Robin helped Charlie take off his trench coat, once again getting uncomfortably close.
"Don't forget to lock your door and do not let in anyone unless you are absolutely sure who they are," Robin reiterated.
Charlie nodded.
There was an uncomfortable silence broken by Charlie who stood on tiptoes and leaned in and quickly brushed her lips on his cheek.
"Thanks," she said meekly.
Robin blushed and shuffled his feet.
Charlie ducked inside quickly, glad to be out of the cold. Robin was grateful to have his coat back and he put it on. It was still warm from her body and smelled of her perfume. He felt confused. How could he go from despising someone to respecting them in such a short period?
Robin looked across the road and saw the gaudy lights of the Taj Mahal Indian Restaurant and Takeaway. He crossed the street to order dinner for himself and Glenda. He would get the beer at the off licence next door to the restaurant.
Charlie pulled back the curtain of the grimy window three floors above street level and watched Robin Sparrow cross the street. She was used to people being uncomfortable around her but Robin Sparrow was an enigma. A few days ago he wore his acrimony and prejudice for her on his sleeve; he now seemed to have begrudging respect for her... and was there something else?
"Strange man," she whispered to herself and began to undress.
The bedsit was little more than a slum but at least the central heating worked, even if it caused the radiators to groan and complain as the hot water gurgled through the rusty pipes.
Charlie changed her jeans, sweater and platform shoes for a black vinyl miniskirt, red satin blouse, black leather bolero jacket, fishnet stockings and red high heels having first seen to the practicalities of preparing for anal sex. Under her blouse she was wearing a black lace bustier to hide the scars on her belly. She spiked up her hair and doused it with hairspray to hold it in place and stood in front of the mirror and applied heavy makeup and bright-red lipstick. She put a red chiffon scarf around her neck to disguise the scar.
She pulled her cheap vinyl 'working girl' shoulder bag down from the wardrobe and rummaged around inside it. Consulate menthol cigarettes, lighter, K-Y jelly, prophylactics, compact and lipstick, hairbrush, chewing gum, cheap perfume, spare pair of knickers, and spare pair of tights; she was good to go.
She pulled on her overcoat and gloves and peeked out the window again but Robin Sparrow was long gone. She locked the door behind her and click-clacked down the stairs putting on her gloves. Charlie walked down to the railway underpass, her heels clattered on the damp cobblestones and Charlie hurried between the pools of lights radiating from the streetlamps. She was not really concerned that the Slasher would come for her again; he'd pretty much said she no longer flamed for him but it never hurt to take precautions. It was not only the Slasher who preyed on working girls like her; they were fair game for all sorts of dangerous and unsavoury men.
"Didn't think I'd see you back here," Deirdre Edwards sucked on her cigarette leaning back into one of the recesses to keep out of the worst of the cold.
The dull glow of cigarettes came from two of the other recesses and muffled grunting came from another; one of the girls was busy with a punter.
"A girl's gotta make a living Deirdre," Charlie quipped as she walked past Deirdre and took up her station in the recess she considered to be her own.
She reluctantly took off her overcoat and gloves and shoved them into her handbag, the women needed to show off their wares. She took out her fags and lit up, waiting for her first customer of the night.
Charlie didn't have to wait long. A car turned into the underpass and the girls came out of their recesses like butterflies emerging from chrysalises putting on a display for the potential customer. Charlie dropped her cigarette to the ground and crushed it out with her heel and walked along the pavement strutting her stuff.
She recognised the car. The baby-shit brown Morris 1300 was driven by one of her regulars, or she should say irregulars; she only saw him sporadically about once a month. He was an older gent who used the name 'Benny' who had a soft belly, hairy body and a comb-over. He liked to take Charlie back to his bungalow in Moulsham and take his time with her, treating her like she was his girlfriend. He was just the sort of punter that she needed to ease herself back into the game.
The car pulled up alongside Charlie and the other girls disappeared back into their hidey-holes to keep warm while Charlie leaned in the driver's window. Sure enough, Benny grinned at her with his tobacco stained teeth. He was wearing an old wool cardigan over a white shirt and nondescript grey trousers. She could feel the warmth from the car's heater through the window.
"Hello Charlie, are you available to keep an old man company for a couple of hours; I'll drive you home after," he smiled.
Charlie looked down into Benny's lap and saw the bulge then to his face with his friendly eager grin.
"I've been saving me pennies for weeks now and I've got five quid if you want it," his smile widened.
"Ok Benny. It will be nice to get out of the cold and be in the company of a real gentleman for a change," Charlie leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
She scrambled to get into the small car, all heels and knickers as she squeezed into the tight seat. Benny seemed delighted at the view and when Charlie was finally settled in the passenger seat and had pulled down the hem of her skirt to provide a modicum of decorum, he patted her knee and put the car in gear.
"Did I ever tell you about my time in the merchant navy?" Benny began, driving with one eye on the road and the other on Charlie's legs.
Charlie had dumped her overcoat on the back seat and put her shoulder bag between her feet. She foraged in her bag for cigarettes and resigned herself to listen to Benny's merchant navy story for the umpteenth time.
Benny didn't wait for Charlie to answer but began his tale.
"I was a Purser on the Blue Star Line serving in cargo ships. It was a lonely life for a young man, with long sea voyages and short port visits to unload cargo with little time for shore leave."
Charlie lit two cigarettes and handed one to Benny who took it unconsciously and continued his story.
"But then I was introduced to a special kind of life that went on in the ships that was kept secret from most people outside of the Andrew. The ships, depending on their size, carried between two to four stewards. One of those was the Captain's valet and the others served the officers in their mess and assisted the cooks in the galley. Do you see?"
Charlie nodded and opened the window a crack to let some of the smoke escape.
"Stewards were called 'day hands'; that is they didn't keep watches like the seamen and the engineers, they had pretty much knocked off for the day after they had cleaned up after supper. Just like the airline stewards today, in those days most of the stewards were gay, but a special kind of gay."
"I'd completed my training and been given my first ship, the Adelaide Star; I was on there about three months I suppose when one night after dinner I was invited into the Chief Purser's cabin, which was as big if not better than the Captain's. Pursers are the officers responsible for all administration, including the ship's cargo and manifests and the cooks and stewards answer to us too."
"Too my amazement there was three gorgeous looking young women in the cabin, dressed to the nines, makeup, hair, heels, nylons, perfume, the whole lot. It didn't take me long to realise they were three of the stewards dressed in drag. The Second Engineer was also present and we had right party."
"After a few rums my inhibitions left me and I rolled around with Daisy, who was actually Danny, the Captain's valet. Long story short I took her back to my cabin and she took my virginity so to speak."
"I've been infatuated with your kind ever since. Every ship I served in I had my favourite girl as it were, but time moves on and I swallowed the anchor and I live in my little bungalow here in Moulsham and make do with my pension."
"When I found you working the wall I was delighted. There are a few others of your type, they leave their cards in telephone boxes, but I don't really like visiting them for a quickie. I like that you visit me at home," Benny patted her knee again, this time his hand drifted up her thigh.
Charlie didn't mind; he was only playing with what he'd paid for.
"You're wearing fishnets," Benny's mouth turned down in disappointment.
"They look good but they feel like shit, too rough," Benny continued.
"Don't worry Benny; I've got a pair of sheers in my bag," Charlie patted the bag between her legs.
"I bet they're those awful tights aren't they?" Benny squeezed her thigh.
"Don't worry. I've bought you a present... well I've bought us both a present I suppose," Benny grinned at her.
Charlie guessed that Benny was in his mid-sixties and although he appeared to live comfortably, he didn't have a lot of money. He was a widower and lived by himself and had a fetish for transvestite girls after being seduced by them in the merchant navy. Benny was quite the gentleman and when he'd saved up enough money or had a windfall on the horses he would pay for Charlie's company.
Charlie thought that he was reliving his days at sea. Drinking and canoodling with a pretty transvestite in the privacy of his lounge room. For a man of his age, he could drink with the best of them and it did not seem to affect his libido; he certainly got his money's worth. Charlie could hear the clink of a bottle on the back seat and it seemed that tonight would be no different.
She liked Benny and she liked that it was safe, warm and comfortable in his house; a lot better than getting shagged up against the wall by some navvy reeking of beer and pork pies.
She opened her legs to let Benny have unfettered access to her and enjoyed the rest of short drive in silence. Benny turned into the driveway and parked next to his small house and let Charlie go in first, reaching around her to open the door. He had a bottle of wine in one hand and Charlie's bottom in the other.
Benny's little bungalow was warm and cosy and Charlie could smell the fish and chips he had for dinner. Charlie sat at the kitchen table while Benny took wine glasses out of a cupboard.
"That's for you," Benny nodded at a brown paper bag on the table.
Charlie peeked inside and then shook the contents out onto the wooden table top. It was a suspender belt and a packet of Pretty Polly fully fashioned stockings, flesh toned with dark welts and seams.
"I know the practicalities of girls wearing tights, or pantyhose as our American friends call them, and don't get me wrong they look lovely under a short skirt, all sheer and shiny, but I am a man of my generation and I like my women to wear real stockings," Benny poured wine into the two glasses.
"Most men prefer women to wear stockings Benny and I usually do but it's been so fucking cold lately. It's right polar under that underpass; cold enough to freeze the knickers off the vicar's wife," Charlie joked.
"Anyway they're a gift for us both to enjoy. Why don't you go put them on while I take our drinks into the living room where it's warm," Benny picked up the wine glasses and started towards the door.
Charlie knew her way around the little bungalow and she picked up the package and made her way to Benny's bedroom. She went inside and dumped her shoulder bag and her overcoat on the unmade bed. The room smelled vaguely of cheap aftershave and old man farts. She wrinkled her nose and got down to business, taking off her bolero jacket, her skirt and then her blouse. She shucked out of her tights and knickers and stepped into the suspender belt, adjusting it carefully around her waist under the bustier and over the bandage on her belly.
She sat on the bed and smoothed the delicate stockings up her legs and clipped the welts to the garter snaps and then stood and straightened the seams and smoothed out any wrinkles. Next she pulled on her full-cut satin panties. She stepped into her black high heels, took the compact, lipstick and hairbrush out of her bag and freshened her makeup and brushed her hair, looking in the dressing table mirror with its flaking sliver backing and then she sprayed herself liberally with perfume. Charlie put the leather miniskirt back on; it looked good with the black lace bustier and red satin panties and the translucent red scarf.
Charlie came out of the bedroom to find Benny sitting in an overstuffed chair wearing a dressing gown. He'd been to the bathroom and his hair glistened from whatever product he used to keep his comb-over in place and she could smell Brut aftershave. The room was warmed by an open coal fire.
"Come here Charlie," Benny opened his arms to her.
Charlie obligingly sat in his lap and Benny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her perfume, there was soft romantic music from a time gone by playing in the background. Benny lazily stoked Charlie thigh on the welt of her stocking and he turned her face to his so he could kiss her. She let him and he was quite good, very romantic, at first just tentative closed-mouth lip-caresses, slow and soft and comforting. His hand rested below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled.
The kisses became heated and Charlie opened her mouth to accept Benny's tongue. Benny slid his tongue into her mouth and his hand grazed the front of her panties, purposely causing her cock to engorge but teasingly moving back to her thigh. Charlie squirmed in his lap and gasped in his mouth and was rewarded when the lump under her buttocks beginning to swell and palpitate.
Charlie opened the stained woollen dressing gown and ran her fingers across Benny's pale flabby chest, her red lacquered nails caught in the stiff curly grey hair. Benny's hand moved from her face, lightly caressing her neck through the chiffon, and ventured inside her bustier where he caressed her meagre breasts, causing her nipples to harden like ripe berries.
Where others were disappointed with her small décolletage, Benny enjoyed teasing her nipples and caressing her paltry bosom; the girls on the Blue Star Line didn't use breastforms either and Charlie's flat chest reminded him of the pretty ship's stewards who were so feminine without the Mae West breasts that were so desired at the time.
Charlie slid her hand down across Benny's generous belly and found him erect inside his saggy grey Y-fronts. He might be a balding, flabby, sexagenarian who smoked and drank too much but his virility was beyond question. He had a full seven inches of iron-hard cock inside his old-geezer drawers.
She had generously lubricated herself with K-Y jelly when she changed in Benny's bedroom and when he lifted Charlie off his lap and lowered her onto his rock-hard shaft, it slid in easy.
Charlie gasped and Benny helped take her weight, cupping her buttocks in his hands so she could get used to being impaled on his engorged penis. He held the leg-hole of her knickers aside so his cock had unfettered access to her sphincter; he greased the portion of his shaft that was not inside her with the excess splodge of KY that ringed her anus when he had entered her.
"Are you ok luv?" Benny asked as he always did.
"It's lovely Benny," she lowered herself into his lap so that he was fully inside her.
She lovingly mussed his hair and lowered her face to his and kissed him deeply. Taking her weight on her knees, she put her hands around Benny's neck to steady herself and began to slowly rise up and down, riding his cock. She buried him deep in her anus and then rose so that just his glans was inside her tight sphincter and then slowly lowered herself until her buttocks rested in his lap.
She kissed him deeply and used her tongue the way she knew he liked it, fluttering it just inside his lips and then driving it deep into his mouth.
Benny encouraged her; his hands on her hips easing her up and then driving her down on him, his cock was perfectly positioned to press against her prostate and she was leaking into her panties. She would definitely be wearing the spare pair of knickers home.
Their gasps and wheezes became frantic as their climaxes approached.
Benny pushed Charlie down into his lap with all his might and lifted himself off the chair a few inches as he thrust his cock deep inside her as far as it would go, his body convulsed and he growled like a wounded lion as he spent himself inside her. Charlie felt his cock pulsing and quivering deep in her anus and she ejaculated into her panties. They kissed and clung to each other as they sated their lust, letting the intense pleasure course through their bodies until they were spent and Charlie hung onto Benny, depleted and drained.
Benny's breathing was ragged. The first time he had bought her home and shagged her she thought he was having a heart attack but it was just Benny recovering from the intensity of his orgasm.
Charlie's ankles were aching and she shifted in Benny's lap to take the weight off them. Benny was still kissing her softly and stroking her hair. He took a small break and reached for the wine glasses passing Charlie's to her and sipping his own cautiously so as not to spill any on her.
He put down the glass and softly stroked the chiffon scarf around her neck.
"I read about what happened to you in The Daily Sun," Benny broke their contented silence.
Charlie felt a little awkward with Benny's spongy phallus still inside her and her knickers soaked in semen but she didn't complain. There was something comforting about being nestled in Benny's lap, it was soothing after the all the drama of the last couple of weeks.
Charlie just nodded.
"You are a very brave girl; I was surprised to see you out working tonight so soon after what happened to you," he stroked her arm.
Being called brave by a man who had crossed the icy Atlantic numerous times in convoys ravaged by German wolf pack submarines made her feel a little ignominious. She put up with Benny's shitty little car, his repetitious retelling of stories about the girls on the Blue Star Line, his shabby dressing gown, his saggy old underpants and his white flabby body because despite of all that he was a beautiful man. He genuinely cared for her and was grateful for her attention. He had given his all for Queen and country and been rewarded with so little that any comfort that Charlie could give him she felt was well deserved.
Benny's fingers lightly touched her belly through the lacy bustier.
