Windows Bk. 02 Ch. 01

"It looks good for the job, but I have to go on a two week training course. Sylvia, it'll take all our savings, I have to pay for the course tomorrow."

"Well, we can manage somehow. We'll have to be short on the rent for a while. I'm sure they won't mind. What are you staring at?"

"That old git next door, he's out there wandering around his garden like some bloody lord on an estate. I thought he was getting you a job?"

"He said about it last week again, but he hasn't said anything since."

"Have you asked him?"

"No, I can't go round there asking like that."

"Sylvia, we're getting desperate."

"Okay, but I don't think it will do any good."

"Smile at him, he likes you, tell him how grateful you'd be."

"Sean Smith, are you suggesting I flirt with our neighbour?"

"Sylvia what a lovely surprise, what can I do for you?"

"Um, well, Ron, I was wondering about the job you mentioned."

"Oh well I have tried, I'll ask again tomorrow, are things really that bad my dear?"

"A little yes, may I come in?"

It isn't often the prey walks in to the lion's den, but I move a side.

"Would you like a cup of tea Sylvia?"

"Well if it's no bother?"

I don't wait for her answer; I'm on my way to the kitchen, before she thinks of saying no.

The poor little darling tells me her problems, and how desperately she needs a job. I sit with a sympathetic smile on my face, occasionally glancing at her crossed legs. I lean forward and tap her knee in a caring gesture.

"I promise to try doubly hard for you; I like to think that although we've known each other a very short time that we will become good friends."

I haven't taken my hand off her knee yet. She just sits there smiling, but looking a little nervous. I can feel the heat under my hand, and the smooth nylon. Her skirt is dark green with a flared hem. I want so desperately to shove my hand up her skirt.

I'm ignoring the hand on my knee, well my husband said flirt with him, although Sean would probably rush round here and beat him up if he knew. I sip my tea and smile at him, but he hasn't moved his hand yet.

She moves her leg away, and asks about my cactus plants dotted around the room. Very good Sylvia, not wanting to offend me by pulling your leg away, without an excuse for doing so.

She stands up, and looks at the cactus plants. She asks me about them, and I give her some names, which I doubt she will ever remember. I sit there looking at the backs of her legs. There is a small hole in her tights, about the size of a finger tip. Should I mention it, would it embarrass her? I stay silent.

I can see his reflection in the window. His eyes are all over the backs of my legs. I'm used to men leering at me, and the odd whistle or car horn. Sean says I should be proud guys look me over, and then his face straightens and his says, but just remember whose woman you are.

"I ought to go," I say.

He smiles, and asks me to wait for just a minute.

I'm clutching the rent money in my hand; Ron has been so kind lending to me.

"Thank you for trying again to get me a job, I really do appreciate it, and thank you for the rent money, but I swear I didn't come round here scrounging."

"Sylvia we are friends, neighbours, and anyway you did refuse it several times, just pay me back when you can, and don't worry I won't mention it to Sean."

The last few days couldn't go quickly enough. Finally the husband is off on his merry way to Scotland, leaving the young gazelle defenceless. I knock on the door, not even 15 minutes after the fool has left. There she is looking every bit as inviting, as the lion's prey on the open plains.

"What's this?"

I bend down picking it up, and struggle in her door with it. I've got it on the television table before she can react.

"It's for you my dear; I couldn't bear the thought of you being stuck her on your own with no entertainment."

Startled green eyes stare at the screen.

"I can't, I mean why have you brought it round? I can't have it."

"Now, now, don't you worry."

I plug it in and feed the aerial cable in the back. I switch it on and a burst of colour fills the screen.

"Ron, really you shouldn't have."

"Now you listen to me, I can't struggle back home with that, and besides, I've got some very good news, you've got the job in the school."

She throws her arms round me, and those lovely tits press against my chest. Her head is over my shoulder, and I can feel her hair against my lips. I can smell her perfume, but the best bit is feeling the soft skin of her neck on my cheek. She pulls away with genuine tears of happiness in her eyes. She looks at the telly and smiles.

I think I shocked him doing that I shocked myself a little too, but I've got the job at the school now, and I felt overwhelmed and cuddled him for the telly and the job. I look at the telly and it's now I realise I've been really silly.

"I can't afford to pay you for the telly, you should take it back."

Damn she mentioned money; I have to get her off the subject. The television is new and I've rented it in her name. I paid the first couple of weeks. It was easy showing them my ID, Mr Smith, and putting it in Sylvia Smith's name. It really was a gift from the god's us both having the same surname.

"Sylvia, I insist you have the telly. Now can you start on Monday at the school? I have your uniform next door I think you should pop round."

"I can't pay you for it, besides it is your spare television isn't it? What happens if yours goes wrong?"

"Sylvia my dear, you don't have to pay me for it," I say, leaving out that isn't a spare telly like she seems to think it is, and she has to pay the rental shop in the high street.

She picks up the uniform holding it against her. Her smile drops. Now what?!

"Um, I'll have to try it on at home."

"Sylvia, I don't see the problem, you can shut the door and call me when you're ready, while I make us a cup of tea."

"Well, I, I'm wearing stockings."

No wonder she is wearing a longer skirt today.

I think I've delighted him, telling him I'm wearing stockings, by the little glint in his eye. I wore them for Sean so he would fuck me before he left. I lifted my skirt and showed Sean with a smile on my face. He grinned and pulled me on the bed. I asked him to wait a bit, but he said he didn't have time. He rolled on me and pushed himself in me. Five minutes later he pulled out. I smiled at him, but deep down I felt a little let down. He isn't like we when we dated, now it is just sex, going through the motions. I didn't even have time to pretend I was having an orgasm.

I look at Ron.

"I'll take them off, and call you when I'm ready."

I smile at her and close the door. I watch through the key hole, like some randy butler from earlier this century. She slips off her shoe, and lifts her foot up, after unclipping one stocking from her suspender belt. I'm holding my breath as she rolls the stocking down. She looks at the door, like she is expecting me to be here, or she can see me watching. She repeats the process with the other stocking. I watch the blue blouse, and then the green skirt being placed on the chair. The straps hang loose from the suspender belt, and they sway with every little movement. The panties and bra are matching, and today she is wearing not cotton ones, but sexy white silk. A treat for her husband I'm sure, before his farewell. Her body is slim, and her belly tight and flat, I could think of nothing worse than her swollen stomach carrying a little brat, unless it is my little brat!

"Well that is a little short, but it's the fashion, all the dinner ladies wear them that length. You'll have to wear tights to work. You're not allowed to go bare legged in the kitchen, it's unhygienic. My dear wife was a nurse; she had to wear stockings all the time for the same reason."

The dress itself is just a uniform; it hugs her hips and waist, and then flares out a little. It clings tightly under her bust, and moulds itself showing off the shape of her round tits.

We sip our tea, and she smiles, she is still wearing the uniform. Those pretty knees of her are pressed together again, like on the bus the other day. Right next to me on the arm of the couch is her stockings. The thin brown material can't hide the white suspender belt underneath. I'm so close I could touch them, but as she talks excitedly about her new job, and getting herself back on her feet, I don't want her to lose the happy state she is in. Is she teasing me leaving her garments there? What would she say if I picked the delicate material up and held them to my face and nose, like I have done many times, with the green panties I stole from her some weeks ago? No I have to stick to my plan.

He glances at my stockings right next to him again. He's paid more attention to them than Sean. I sit here in my uniform, wondering who took the hem up. It's done with a machine, but a little carelessly. The cotton is cream and not white, and the stitching gap is bigger than it should be.

"Thank you for all your help; I don't know what Sean is going to say when I tell him you gave us a telly. He might even make me bring it back, he's like that sometimes, but anyway thank you again. If there is anything I can do for you, let me know?"

She smiles sweetly.

"I'm sure I'll think of something my dear."

I return her smile, and right now I can think of a hundred things she could do for me, but not one of them a gentlemen would ask of a lady.

Sylvia picks up her blouse and skirt, and she reaches across and picks up her stockings and suspender belt. She lets one of the stockings dangle from her hand. The toe of the stocking slides gently over the back of my hand. I could grab it, and use it to pull her down on top of me, and then pull her head so our lips mash together. I stand up and follow her out to the hall. I could grab her from behind right now, and drag her up the stairs in to my bedroom and ravage her.

I watch her from my door, as she wears the starched uniform home. I held off from grabbing her, from making her mine, although it was a close shave. The poor gazelle was nearly eaten alive, but she lives to see another day.

I shut the front door, and wonder about Mr Smith. I did think about being forgetful, and leaving my stockings at his house. Then I could call round a while later and say I left them there if he didn't return them. He might even offer me my green panties back, which went missing the day he came round to introduce himself. There was something odd about him when I left. I could feel his breath on my neck, like he was following me closely, too closely. I walked down the path and then looked back at him. I smiled and then he did, eventually, but it was like he was thinking of something quite sinister just before he smiled.

Over the week I see her from time to time in the canteen. Those long legs sheathed in her tights, and the way her hemline flirts with showing much more, gives me an ache between my legs. I've seen the headmaster looking her over, and a few of the boys.

"Ah Ronald, I wanted to congratulate on finding Sylvia, she certainly brightens up the days here, and she is younger than the other dregs of society we have working here, well done old chap."

He can't hide the lust in his eyes and that wicked smile. We watch her stretch to get a pile of plates from the shelf. Her hemline rises as she reaches up, and she pushes a leg behind her for balance.

"Yes Ronald, she's a bit of alright," he says with a grin.

Three boys lean on the counter behind her, watching the same thing we are. They nudge and grin at each other, as all of us who are witnessing this event, see her dark blue panties under the central seam of her tights. She turns holding the plates and smiles at the boys. She chats to them, as she digs the spatula into the chips. One boy asks her for a few more, and she smiles and puts more on his plate.

"Wouldn't you just like to be the lucky sod she goes home to at night?" The headmaster says with a chuckle, and then slaps my back.

Everyone is watching me, the teachers and the boys. I bend and stretch, and there is little I can do about flashing my underwear. I could have unpicked the hem of my work dresses, but I don't want to. I smile at that thought.

"Ah Mrs Smith isn't?"

"Yes headmaster."

"Please come in to my office for a moment would you?"

"Have I done anything wrong?"

"Heaven's no, because I'm the headmaster don't think I haven't got time for the canteen staff."

I shut the door behind her, and get a pleasant whiff of the perfume she is wearing.

"Now I hear you've moved in next to Mr Smith. How did the move go?"

"Fine, we still have to sort out the garden, but Sean is probably going to be working a way from home."

"Is he now, well I may be able to help you out there."

Thursday at 3 o'clock, Sylvia brings my afternoon tea and biscuits in. She smiles sweetly. She puts the cup and saucer down, and stands there rubbing her hands.

"I'd like to thank you for getting the job for me here. I, I like the girls I work with, and the boys all seem so well behaved. The headmaster has been kind to me. He called me to his office yesterday, and told me I was doing very well. He's offered to get a couple of the boys to get my garden straight while my husband is away. He said he would supervise it himself, isn't that sweet, everyone has been so kind."

That bastard......that fucking cunt. What was it he called them, bloody low life good for nothing bitches? Now he's after my Sylvia! Practically dribbling over her like some adolescent fool.

I smile at her.

"Has the headmaster proposed a time for the work in your garden?"

"He seemed really keen to start straightaway. He asked when Sean was back, and suggested we do it when my husband is away, and not to tell him, it would be a lovely surprise for Sean."

She sounds excited. This isn't what I need right now.

"Sylvia, don't take this the wrong way, but be careful of Mr Banner, he might be a good headmaster, and heaven forbid I blot his copy book, but he has a roving eye where the ladies are concerned."

"Well I'm sure he isn't like that. It's sweet of him to offer to help."

She says it with a smile, but she sounded a little miffed. Has she just tried to put me in my place? Is this our first tiff?

"Forgive me, but he is unattached, and maybe you should think before letting him in your home, he might have well, other motives."

"Oh I'm sure Nigel isn't interested in me like that."

My god Nigel is it?!

"I said I'd make him lunch, he's coming round to look over the garden and suggest a few things, before he brings the boys round to start work. I really don't think there will be anything untoward on his mind."

Again I've been scolded, but is she that dense? How the hell she ever had dreams of becoming a policewoman is beyond me. The headmaster doesn't know one end of a plant from the other, and surely she can see the way he smiles at her, isn't just politeness.

"How old is he?"

"Well, um, I think he is 46."

"Does he drink beer or wine? Only I thought I'd get him something he likes. Ron could you lend me £5 until I get paid? I want to get my hair done."

Why is she chattering away like this, surely she isn't interested in the fool? Well my dear Sylvia, you do move fast. Are you a little more cunning than those sexy innocent green eyes suggest?

I knock on the door, glancing over at Ronald's house. His car isn't there, so the silly old fool must be out for the day at one of his stupid cactus conventions. The door opens and she smiles at me.

Look at the bastard, looking up and down the street hoping no will notice him going in. He's carrying bunch of flowers, which I very much doubt he knows the names of, and a bottle of wine. It's all I can do to stop myself from going round there, but this is my plan after all. I did work on Nigel last week when he asked about my Sylvia. I let him think she is interested, well she asked me his age, so I just put that forward, along with how kind he has been to her, and she even borrowed money from me to get her hair done. I did add a couple of little fibs; I told him she thought he was handsome, and she has problems with her marriage. I was careful, and if he had asked I would have told him it was money problems, but the stupid fool took it all in without asking for confirmation. I could see his brain working as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his tie and sliding his fingers through his hair. Well I'm not leaving my post until he has gone. Still I am on a winner, if he does get her up the stairs he'll boast about it, and if he doesn't get between her thighs, he'll be narked. Either way I'll be there to pick up the pieces, by telling her husband what has happened.

"Well I guess you want to see the garden headmaster?"

"All in good time Sylvia, and please call me Nigel."

She smiles so sweetly, and that alone has me sensing we have a connection.

"Well perhaps lunch first?" she suggests.

"Yes, as long as you don't dish up the warm mess they call food at school," hell I shouldn't have said that, "what I mean Sylvia is, I think it is time we gave the boys more of a culinary treat."

She smiles and turns to cooker.

I open the wine, and watch that ass of hers as she bends over to check the oven. The flared hem of her red mini dress brushes against her thighs. She turns round and puts a metal tray on the wooden kitchen table. The smell of the fresh bread she has pulled out of the oven overpowers her perfume.

The gold buttons down the front of her dress are for decoration, as she turns round I see a zip, going from her neck down to her waist. I could pull it down so easily.

"Would you want paying for the plants, Nigel?"

"No my dear, we have an abundance at the school. Your hair looks nice Sylvia."

She touches it, smiles shyly, and then blushes a little. She takes the glass of wine and sips it; those red painted lips leave a stain on the glass. She moves round the kitchen and I watch her dress sway round her thighs. It's obvious she dressed for attention like most women do these days. Her arms are slim but hidden in the long tight sleeves. I suspect getting into that dress takes a little time, getting her out of it will be a little difficult.

According to Ron, she asked about me, and to be honest there is an attraction between us, but the telltale sign is she hasn't got her wedding ring on. It sits on the window sill.

She dips her hands in the washing up bowl. The zip on her dress is drawing my eyes to it, the gold shines, nestled there between the red of her dress, it wants me to pull it down, it's screaming at me to do it.

I lunge forward and grab the zip, yanking it down to the top of her ass. Both my hand go in her dress and up to her breast. I squeeze her breasts covered in her bra. As she falls forward, my groin presses against her ass. She screams, but she wants this. I pull my left hand out of her dress, and cover her painted mouth. My right hand is now out of her dress, and up it.

"Don't fight it Sylvia, we both want the same thing."

I spin her round pressing my lips to hers, and I rip her tights and panties at the same time. Frustratingly her hands go on my chest, but I've already found the folds of here cunt.

"It's what you want, that's what you got me here for."

She shakes her head, and says something which is muffled into my hand. Her nylon clad feet struggle to find a grip on the tiled floor. I get my lips on hers again, and manage to stop her falling arms. The softness of her tightly closed lips makes my heart race, as much as the pussy my finger has found its way in.

"What are you doing?" she mumbles.

For a moment I just look at her. Her face looks shocked.

"Well, you wanted it, you asked people about me."