Windows Bk. 01 Ch. 04

I feel his groin pressing on my bum. It leaves and then it comes back again, slowly and deliberately, bumping me. His breathing is heavy in my ear.

"You're fucking lovely," he says, breathlessly.

"Am I?" I ask faintly, looking at his face reflected in the mirror.

"Yeah, you are, fucking lovely."

The way he says the words are like the way Sean would say them to me. I know the words come from Sean's heart, and they make me happy, but hearing them from him, Tim, is also a little welcome. I think now when he does fuck me it won't be rough and full on; it'll be with dare I say a little tenderness. While I don't want him fucking me, at least if he is gentle and in this mood, with his lust filled red face, and softly spoken words, I could probably cope better, and getting over it won't be as tortured. Again, I don't want him fucking me, but perhaps I can have a little control, enough to keep him from fucking me with some wild abandon, and animalistic brutishness.

"Hank is coming to the door," I mumble, pushing Tim's arms off me.

"Shit," he says, trying to push his erection down.

Hank knocks the door, and I go and open it. Hank's face turns from someone who has been working hard, to someone who likes what he sees.

"We need some water to mix the concrete," he says, "where is Tim?"

"Be right with you mate, bring the bucket in."

I look round and the hard lump is down Tim's trouser leg. Hank doesn't seem to notice as he fills the bucket from the sink.

"Mrs Smith is going to get some bacon, so we've got bacon sandwiches for lunch, haven't we sweet cheeks?"

I feel Tim's arm going round my shoulder.

"Um......yes," I mumble, looking at Hank.

Tim's hand goes down my back and he lands a hard slap on my ass. Hank looks at me and smiles, like he knows something is going on.

"What have you told them?" I ask, as Hank closes the back door behind him.

"Just that you're a little bored housewife, who flirted with me to get a lower price."

"But I'm not like that."

"Sylvia, I can prove you're a bored housewife, I can show the boys out there those photos of you, so do yourself a favour and just play along."

My mind is a whirl as I walk down to the corner shop.

"Hello Mrs Smith, what can I do for you today?" Morris the shopkeeper asks.

I suddenly realise for a moment I don't know what I want.

"B, bacon," comes out of my mouth.

I pick up a loaf of bread.

"I hear you're having a new fence today. Tim and his mates I believe are doing it?"

I just nod.

"I assume the bacon is for them?"

Again I nod.

"Well just go careful dressing like that. You know what men are like, especially the rough types like you've got working on your fence."

I give him the money, knowing I do look too dressed up for doing housework.

"Of course it is none of my business, but if they get the wrong idea with your husband away and all. Well it would be wise to stay out of their sight as much as you can."

I can feel my face going red, as he hands me the bacon, bread, and then my change.

"I did see you letting Tim into your house last night, tongues do wag around here, and I happened to notice Mrs Glover was keenly watching. Don't worry, if anyone says anything I'll tell them you were finalising arrangements for your new fence."

I'm out of his shop and half way up the road before I take a breath. A car hoots its horn at me, as I nearly step in front of it. I know what Mr Todd the shopkeeper said was right. I do look like I've dressed up for the men coming round, and now he has told me Mrs Glover has seen Tim going in my house, late at night.

I take the bacon sandwiches out. Heads turn as my high heels clack on the path. I can feel their eyes watching my every move. I put the plates on the garden table, and then I go back in for the mugs of tea. When I come back out they are sat at the table eating. I put the tea down feeling their eyes watching my face.

I jump a little, as Tim's hand goes round my waist. He pulls me against him.

"These sandwiches are nice my love. I was telling the boys what a lucky man your husband is."

I feel his hand going down off my hip, and on to my nylon clad thigh. He pulls me against him, and holds my thigh tightly to him.

"Yeah, we reckon he is lucky to have married you. Of course if I was him, I wouldn't go off to some oil rig for weeks on end."

A single finger tip stroking down the back of my thigh to my knee makes my leg twitch.

"No if I was him, I'd want to be close to you."

I shudder as his hand goes up under my skirt and onto my backside. I want to scream at him not to talk about my husband, and he is more of a man than Tim will ever be, but I don't. I know Tim is talking about Sean to humiliate me. He is showing off in front of the two men.

I look from George to Hank and wish I hadn't. Hank is grinning up into my eyes, and George is watching Tim's hand, as it goes round to my hip, still under my skirt, again pulling me tight to him as he sits in the garden chair.

"You're lucky, because the boys and I will look after you while we're here. There are a lot of salesmen that come round this way. Well some aren't really salesmen they are looking for housewives who have been left alone, pretty housewives, with long sexy legs."

He pinches my ass and lets me go. I can hear them chuckling outside from behind the back door. I'm breathing heavy and trying to calm myself down.

A couple of hours later I hear their van pull away, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Hello sexy."

I jump and turn round. There he is grinning at me.

"You were a good girl out there. You let me touch you and okay I understand you were nervous, but you did well."

I back away as he comes forward and I stumble into the wall. He grins and keeps walking, until he is as close to me as he can be without us touching.

"Now I haven't forgotten our deal, and believe me I can't wait for you to take me to bed. But I want to play a little."

I watch as he drops to his knees. His hands go on my legs and start travelling up. They get to the hem of my skirt and I put my hands on his, stopping him going any further.

"I love the way you shake so."

He forces his hands up, and I can't stop him. His palms are flat against my thighs and he is staring at my panties.

His face dips forward, and I press my two hands on the top of his head holding him off me. I can feel the sweat in his short cropped hair, where he has been out in the sun.

"Wait, Tim, if you want to go to bed, then let's do it. Then it'll be over."

I take my hands slowly off his head hoping he'll agree.

"Don't you want a little fun too? I bet you would love my tongue dancing between your thighs."

I'm trying not to let the shock at what he has asked show on my face. I gulp and shake my head.

"No, you don't need to do that. I, I'm not use to that sort of, of thing."

I force a smile.

"You said I was a good....girl. Let's just fuck......plea...."

I stop talking as I feel his thumbs lightly rubbing across the front of my panties and tights.

"You mean that prick you married doesn't go down on you?"

"Don't call my husband that," I half growl, and then swallow hurting my throat, "I don't need it."

"Rubbish girl, and yet I expect you go down on him, willingly, don't you?"

I shake my head.

I feel his lips rubbing over my tights. I bite my fist as his big tongue licks at me. He groans and I feel his fingers take a grip on my tights and panties, and then he pulls ripping everything. His nose runs up my slit, and then his thumbs spread my lips. I feel his tongue slithering at my pussy. His left hand pushes my right leg up and over his shoulder. Two fingers slip in my pussy as his tongue flicks across my clit.

For a few minutes he delights in invading me. Fingering and licking and groaning in my pussy.

"You taste wonderful," he mumbles.

I close my eyes like it will somehow it will blot out his voice.

My left leg starts to ache where I've been standing on it for a while; even my right leg over his shoulder starts to feel cramp.

I start to fake an orgasm, just to get him off me. I groan like I do when I have an orgasm.

"Enough...........Tim that's enough..........stop."

I pull my leg off his shoulder, as he smiles up at me. His face goes back between my legs, and he sucks my lips in his mouth, and flicks his tongue across them, like it was some sort of loving kiss after sex.

"Did you like that?" he asks, as he stands up.

"I told you, you didn't need to...."

"I asked if you liked that?" he snaps.

I know what he wants to hear, but can I honestly lie about it? I nod hoping that will please him, but even that is too forced to be convincing. I go to move away, but he puts his hands on my shoulders.

"My turn," he whispers, and pushes me on my knees.

His cock is already out and standing straight up. While it is just a cock, it terrifies me as much as it would if it was a loaded gun pointing at my face.

"I don't like doing it," I mumble.

He pulls my head forward and his cock bumps my cheek. I don't want to touch it, but I have too. I wrap my fingers around it so he can't get it all in my mouth. The big purple head slips between my lips.

"God your mouth feels warm."

I push him off.

"You will pull out, won't you?"

"Yes, now get fucking sucking," he grizzles.

I'm trying not to notice the sweaty smell, or the feel of his pubic hair on my hand.

"Fucking hell slow down, it's not a race."

I keep pumping his cock with my hand. I ease my mouth a little at a time, until only the tip is touching my lips. I feel him stretch a little towards the coffee table. A handful of tissues get pushed in my hand.

I jerk him faster, and I can see he's giving up ordering me about, now it is just about him getting off. I feel hot spunk soaking through tissues, and on to my hand.

He leaves me knelt on the floor, and goes in the kitchen. I hear the tap being turned on and water filling a glass. I stumble to my feet with a handful of soaked tissues. I hear him gulping down the water as I pass the kitchen to the toilet. I throw and then flush the tissues away. I rinse my fingers in the small sink.

He smiles at me as he buckles up his trousers.

"You see that wasn't bad was it, although you need to practice sucking cock. Maybe you'll be better tomorrow, and no playing with yourself reliving it later."

There is so much I want to say to what he has just said, but all I can think about is, he wants the same tomorrow.

"Now while you were down the shop earlier, I put out some clothes for you to wear tomorrow on the chair in your bedroom. Wear only those clothes, nothing more nothing less, and plenty of make up."

He walks towards me and puts his big hands on my face, so I have no choice but to look in his eyes.

"I bet you never thought I could make you come like that did you, my little bored housewife?" Tim says, with a sincerity in his voice that he thinks I did actually like it.

His lips squash on mine, and then he backs away.

I hear the van pull up, and the chatting and laughing of Tim and his mates as they get out. I'm sat upstairs just staring at my reflection in the dressing table mirror. I've been sat here for nearly half an hour, just thinking. My thoughts have been about everything that went on yesterday, and I know it is going to be the same today.

I hear a wood saw cutting, and then the back door opens and closes. Despite the hell that is coming, I'm just as annoyed with him for not knocking on the door. I hear his feet on the stairs, and then I notice a shadow in the doorway of my bedroom. I don't look at him I just stay sat at my dressing table putting my hair up.

"Good morning sexy," he says, and walks up behind me.

His arms go over my shoulders, and he bends and kisses my neck. It's something my husband would do, but without the squeeze on my breasts.

"You're not getting anymore money out of me, I've given you the £50, and here is another £30, that's all I'm paying, no interest nothing."

He slides the notes in his pocket, and smiles at my face in the mirror.

"Okay, as long as you take me to bed."

"And what about the photos?"

"It'll be like I never had them."

"Who gave them to you?" I ask, looking meaningfully into his face.

"Sylvia, where is the fun for you in that? Maybe it is someone you know, maybe someone you don't know. Hey you might never find out, now wouldn't that be something? It could a man or woman you pass in the street, someone you talk to, someone you're friends with, so just get past it. Now stand up I want to see how you look."

"Why don't we go to bed, now? I just want it over with."

"As much as I'd love to, I'm enjoying watching your little red face, and the way you tremble so. Besides Hank and George want to see how sexy you look for me. They were wondering what you would be wearing today, they got quite excited about seeing you."

I stand up and look up at him. He tips his head to one side and looks from my knee length red boots, up my white tights, and on to my bright red hot pants.

"I don't like the blouse like that."

I stand shaking as he undoes the buttons on my white lacy blouse, with the see through nylon mesh sleeves. He opens the blouse and smiles at my bare tits.

I feel his hands reach behind my back. He pulls the blouse up and gathers it round, as his hands come back round the front. He gets hold of the two ends, and ties them in a tight knot under my breasts. He turns me back to the mirror, and rests his chin on my shoulder.

"Now isn't that better, showing off your lovely flat stomach, and all that cleavage?"

My trembling fingers start doing up a button. His hands come up from my waist, and he gently pulls my arms down by my side.

"You leave those buttons undone, and put more of that red lipstick on," he says, holding it up to me.

I start applying the lipstick as he kisses my neck.

"Now there is just a finishing touch."

He turns me to him and starts kissing my neck. His lips suck, and keep on sucking. I squirm but he holds me tight, and doesn't let go. I try pushing on his chest, but I can't get him off me. The sucking goes on for a couple of minutes. When he lets off panting, he turns me to the mirror again. There on my neck is a big purple mark the size of a golf ball, which I know will last most of the week.

"There, just so the boys know who you belong to."

We're half way down the stairs when the door knocker makes me jump. I can see the cap of the milkman through the frosted glass.

"Who the fucking hell is that?" Tim hisses in my ear.

"It's the milkman; he always comes on Tuesday for the money. He'll go away in a moment."

Tim marches me down the last few stairs and pulls open the door.

"Hello Mrs Smi........"

The milkman's eyes quickly flick up my body. They take a while to leave my cleavage, and then fix on the big purple mark on my neck.

I reach up to the small window ledge by the front door, and hand him the milk money, stupidly praying he'll lose his memory as soon as he leaves.

Tim slaps my ass, and when I turn round sharply, he is doing up a button on his shirt.

"Hello Mark, good job you didn't come five minutes earlier."

I watch him smile at Tim, and then he looks at me. It's written all over his face what he thinks is going on. I shove the door closed and turn to the grinning Tim.

"Why did you open your shirt like that? He thinks we've been to bed together?" I hiss in panic.

"Don't worry, Mark is okay, although he's bound to ask me in the pub how long we've been fucking."

"How could you let him think that? What if he says something to my husband?"

"Hey, Mark's not like that although he might well try it on with you in the future. Now get your fucking head together, and bring some tea out in an hour."

I take the tea out and eyes are all over me again. George is watching my tits bounce, and Hank is staring between my legs at the tight material of my hot pants.

"You look nice today Mrs Smith," Hank says, with a wink at Tim.

I gulp as Hank stares at the mark on my neck.

"She's going to go down the shop for us again, aren't you Sylvie?"

I don't answer I just glare at Tim.

"Bacon and sausage sandwiches this time I believe, isn't that right sweet cheeks?"

They drink the tea, and Tim comes back in the house.

"I'm going to change if you really want me going down the shop?"

He grabs my arm and twists me round facing him.

"Now you listen to me, I've let you get away with a lot. I've agreed not to charge you anymore, so you'll go down the fucking shop like that. You'll buy some rubbers too."

I gulp, "I've got one upstairs."

"You'll buy some fucking condoms, and I saw a pack of tights in there I want you to buy. They are on the top of the rack in a gold box, don't disappoint me."

I rub my arm where he held it so tight. I see a look in his eye which borders on violence. He hands me £5.

"That should cover everything, now off you go and don't make me angry again," he says with a smile, and slaps my ass.

I watch her in the distance coming out of her gate. She'll be here soon, Mrs Smith in what looks like red hot pants and matching boots. Tim has told me everything that happened yesterday, even the pathetic blow job she gave him. According to Tim she screamed like a banshee when he ate her out, and flooded his face, which I very much doubt is true.

I watch out of the window, having spun the sign round to 'closed,' 10 minutes ago, to keep my shop empty. As soon as she gets closer, I'll spin it round to open.

Her arms are folded under her breasts. I know Tim said she would be braless today, so I suspect she is trying to stop them bouncing. Those tight little hot pants cutting into her pussy make a very nice change. From here I can see the delight of her camel toe. I know what her purchases will be, and I'll savour humiliating her like I did yesterday.

I pretend to be dusting the window display as the door open.

"Hello Mrs Smith, what a pleasant day it is."

She half smiles, and as soon as her back is to me, I flip the shop sign to closed. I stare at the tight curve of her ass, and then I move round in front of her, and look at the mark on her neck.

"That's a nasty bruise, how did it happen?"

She touches it and I see the worry in her eyes.

"I, well, pulled a cupboard door open, and, and it caught my neck."

The poor woman is trying her best to make up an excuse on the spot. She moves away and picks up a loaf of bread.

"How is your new fence looking? I assume it is finished?"

"Not quite, I need some sausages and bacon too please."

"Oh so they are still there?" I ask, letting my eyes drop to the round breast bulging out of her blouse.

She tries to hide her embarrassment.

"Um.....I need a, pack of....."

"Yes Mrs Smith?"

"A.........pack of, of condoms."

"I thought your husband was away for a few weeks?"

Oh God he suspicious, and with the way I'm dressed I suppose anyone would be.

"The box was empty, I, noticed it was empty, the box in the drawer," I ramble.

I spin round looking at the rack with the tights on just to get away from his accusing eyes.

"These too please," I say, reaching for the gold pack of tights with shaking hands.

I put them down on the counter, and just stare in my purse unable to look him in his eye.

"Theses aren't plain tights Mrs Smith, they are new they are called suspender tights. Like a cross between stockings and tights. There is no panty part in them."

"No, they are fine, thank you."

"Oh by the way, I saw Mrs Glover yesterday afternoon. She mentioned about your late night visitor. She said...well I'm, sure you don't want to hear what people gossip about."

"No I don't."

"I did assure her there was nothing untoward happening, but I'm sure you can imagine what people will be thinking, with your husband away, and the flirty styles of the clothing you wear."