Windows Bk. 02 Ch. 02

"So you say Mrs Smith was hoping for some sort of commitment headmaster?"

"Ronald, I swear she was all over me. Now we're men of the world, we know what women are like. She asked about seeing me again, and as you said, she obviously has marriage problems. She thinks I'm her way out of it all, and that's why I had to tell her straight, it was only a bit of fun."

"How did she take it?"

"Not well, so if you notice she's a little off with me, you'll know why?"

"Yes headmaster, I think I get the picture, perfectly."

He nods and I watch him leave. I go into the classroom. I don't believe a word of it, but to be honest it helps my plan. I have to find out what happened, but all in good time.

"Good morning boys, I assume you're all ready for your photography class? Simpson what are you gawping at out of the window?"

"Who, me sir?"

"Well you're the only Simpson in my class you fool."

The boys giggle as I go to the window. There she is, my Sylvia, chattering away to one of the other dinner ladies. The bright sunlight on those long legs of hers adds an orangey glow. I watch her until she goes out of sight.

"Simpson, stay behind after class."

They file out of the room after an hour. The door shuts and now it is just Simpson, and me.

"Tell me boy, why you were staring at the dinner lady?"

His mouth opens but nothing comes out.

I put my hand behind my ear and lean towards him.

"Maybe I've gone deaf Simpson, or you vocal cords have stopped working?"

He gulps and his face goes a little red.

"Nothing sir.....I swear I wasn't staring at Sylvia."

"Oh Sylvia is it?"

"God no, I mean my mum and her are friends, well mum went round to Sylvia's. When she dishes up the food, she talks to me, Sylvia I mean, not my mum."

"About what?" he looks blankly at me, "Simpson, what does she talk about?"

"Just about school, and, and she talks to all the boys, not like the other dinner ladies."

"Simpson, she's a fine looking woman, but a little old for you."

"God sir, I, I'm not interested in her, well she's nice and all, but I don't say things about her like the others do."

"Simpson, what do the other boys say?"

He gulps again, and his red face goes a deeper shade.

"Tommy White saw up her dress on the stairs last week. He whistled at her. She looked round but she didn't know who whistled. He says she loves it, and said why else would her dress be shorter than the other dinner lady's. Am I in trouble?"

"No boy, and don't worry about White, I won't say anything to him. Now get to your next class."

For the next few days I watch her in the canteen. Simpson was right, she does engage with the boys more than the others do. Simpson is practically swooning every time he sees her. Tommy White looks at her like he wants to devour her; well the boy has good taste.

I saw a brief look between her and the headmaster yesterday. She looked embarrassed, and a little nervous, but nothing was said. I still haven't found out what went on between them, but I intend paying a visit to her house when that useless husband of hers is home. He thanked me for the telly the other day. It's amazing how people are when they get something they really want. All of a sudden we are best mates. He didn't even ask about payment for the telly, and luckily he didn't look in the manual I gave him, where I placed the rental agreement, he just shoved it in a drawer. He asked me to help him with his coursework for his new job, the maths in particular. So I looked at it, and then put him right on a few things. He promised me a bottle of scotch if he gets the job. I think I'd buy him one if he did get the job up there in Scotland, out of the way.

I've seen Mrs Simpson going in Sylvia's house a couple of times now. It's nice she has friends in the neighbourhood; I shall work on driving a wedge between them.

I'm taking Sean's coursework back. He opens the door and asks me in.

"Sylvia isn't in she's round Gillian's."

"Who is Gillian?" I ask, knowing full well who she is.

"Gillian Simpson, she lives a few doors down. So Ron, want a beer?"

"I'd love one," I reply.

"How is Sylvia coping at school?"

"Fine, she's very popular."

"Yeah that's my Sylvie alright, she is a little shy at first, but when people get to know her she's fine."

I hand him the coursework which I have rewritten. He stares at it and nods with a grin.

"You've got really good handwriting."

The door opens and Sylvia comes in, she says hello, and Sean slaps her ass as she goes through to the kitchen.

"Ron, you must come round to dinner one night, our treat for the telly and helping me with the coursework."

I agree and leave them to it.

He has got the job on the oil rigs, and everything is happy in the land of my council house neighbours. I make a phone call, and the next day Sylvia is on my doorstep, looking very worried.

"You'll never guess what has happened. A guy came round and said I had a week to find the money for the television licence, or they will take Sean to court."

"You had better come in."

She sits with her long legs crossed, leaning forward nervously.

"Sylvia, surely you have a TV licence?"

"Well we do, but it is for a black and white telly, not a colour one. I completely forgot about it. It's £12 I don't know how I'm going to get the money."

Poor thing, she looks so beaten.

"Someone phoned them and told them. I don't know who, but it'll wreck everything. You must think I'm a terrible wife."

"No, no, no, it'll be someone who is jealous of you no doubt, maybe a friend who perhaps isn't a real friend. Sylvia that Gillian Simpson has been coming round to your house I notice, far be it for me...."

"My god do you think so? She is always so nice to me. I don't think she would tell anyone."

"Look I'm a little strapped for cash at the moment."

"I didn't come here to ask you for the money. I'd never do that. I know I only half paid back the rent money you lent me, but I'll give you the rest next week I swear. Last week Sean and I ordered a new sofa from York's department store, he'll go mad if I can't pay the first weeks money, and they'll come and take the sofa back."

Oh you poor sweet thing. This is where I offer you a chance to earn it.

"Sylvia, I run an evening class in photography at the school, we usually pay models to pose. Nothing untoward, just a few face shots and arty poses. No taking clothes off, and I develop most of them in the darkroom at school."

"I don't know I'd have to speak to Sean."

"Why, honestly it is just a few simple shots. I can pay you £6 a session. It's not much, but I'm sure if you arrange it with the TV licensing people, then they wouldn't mind a delay in payment."

She curls her bottom lip under her teeth. Oh the pure ecstasy of watching her weigh things up is beyond compare. I have the long legged gazelle cornered. It's her move now, does she make a final run for it, or let my mouth open around her pretty neck.

"If Sean ever found out I don't know what he would do. No, I can't....thank you for the offer, but no."

The fucking bitch is really pissing me off. Well it is her funeral.

I watch her walk down the path, her arms are crossed and her head is down. I have to admit I admire her for sticking to her guns, but like the lion, I'm not beaten yet.

I'm in the television rental shop, a few days after she refused my kind offer of posing for the camera night school I run.

"Excuse me young man, could you check on my wife's account. I fear she hasn't been making the rental payments."

I watch him flicking through the paperwork. He mumbles something about having to go and see the manager. Obviously the dim witted fools here don't seem to keep on top of things. The manager comes out, looks at me, and then back to the paperwork.

"Mr Smith, I'm afraid your wife hasn't kept up any of the payments. You owe us £28 you're four weeks in arrears. So I suggest you get the money to us by the end of the next week, or we'll have to do something about it."

I watch the ass bounce on the balls of his feet.

"Look Mr?"

"Harper, I'm the manager here," he says, bouncing on the balls of his feet even more.

"Harper old chap, first of all the television rental agreement is in my wife's name. I'm sick of her running up bills which I have to pay. This isn't the first time she has done this sort of thing, now between you and me; I'd rather you sent her a letter threatening court action. If you do that I promise to pay the arrears next week, which strictly speaking, I don't have to."

He looks back at the paperwork and then at me.

"Do you really want us to go through the process of sending her a letter?"

"Yes man, I want to teach her a lesson," I reply sternly.

"Very well, but I must warn you, she will be blacklisted."

"Fine, if that's what it takes. Oh you might want to have a word with York's; she's gone and ordered a sofa from there too."

"Mr Smith, are you really sure?"

"Yes damn it; it's the only way she'll learn."

His assistant whispers in ear.

"My colleague informs me she would have paid a deposit for the sofa, I doubt very much if she'll get that back."

"Well, so be it."

"Jones, have Linda type up the letter."

Here she comes with my afternoon tea. It's been four days since I visited the television rental shop.

"Ron, can I speak to you for a moment."

I nod and smile at her.

"I had a letter from some rental company about the telly."

"Yes well I left the rental agreement with your husband."

"You didn't say it was rented."

"Sylvia, I thought you had found the letter. Look this is all a misunderstanding. I assumed you found the letter, changing it over to your name?"

"No, I didn't realise you did that. I haven't found any letter."

"Well I gave it to Sean tucked in the manual. He must have put it away somewhere."

She bites her lip.

"That's where it'll be in a drawer somewhere," I say with a smile.

She looks a little mystified.

"Yes perhaps you're right," she finally says, and goes to the door and then stops, "I was wondering if you still wanted a model?"

The poor gazelle is throwing herself at the lion's mercy.

"Everything is getting too much for me," she says with a sob, "Sean leaves the money side of things to me. What sort of wife will he think I am, if I can't keep on top of a few bills? He will go mad about the telly being taken back. I bet he didn't even look in the manual."

It's been a week since she came to see and now here she is, knocking on my study door at the school.

"Come in my dear."

She walks past me looking a little worried.

I close the door, drowning out the chatter of the school boys, as they change classes. I stop on my way back. I turn the switch on the tape recorder, as she blows her pretty little nose.

"I was wondering about the modelling job, do you still need one?"

"Sylvia you're too late," I leave her thinking on that for a few seconds, "although I do know some of the guys would pay a little more for, special shots."

"What sort of, special shots?" she asks quietly.

"Oh just some saucy underwear photos," I reply, in a matter of fact way, "and they would pay more than £6."

"How much would they pay to photograph me in my underwear?"

"Sylvia, are you really considering it?" I ask a little shocked

Oh those blushing cheek of hers.

"I know I shouldn't but I'm desperate. Yes, I don't want to, but I need the money."

"And what about Sean, I'm sure he would be really angry if he found out?"

"I can't tell him, it'll be between us."

"Sylvia, there is something I want to ask you. I saw the headmaster going in your house not long ago, carrying flowers. Now I don't want to pry, but are you........having an affair?"

"No, I'm not....having an affair with the headmaster. We arranged for him to come round when Sean was away to look at what I wanted to do in the garden. It would be a surprise for Sean. He, well he touched me, and put his hand up my dress. I like him and he thought I was giving him the green light, because I took my wedding ring off to wash up."

"Have you told anyone?"

"No, apart from you, please don't say anything to him. He said he would twist it round that I came on to him. I don't know what to do about it. I really thought he was nice. He said there was an attraction between us that we both felt. He said he knew I wanted sex with him."

"Sylvia, you should tell your husband."

"No he'll kill me."

"Sylvia, you did nothing wrong. Perhaps I should tell your husband for you?"

"No, you can't tell him, please don't. I don't want Sean knowing, he mustn't know."

"But what if the headmaster wants to see you again?"

"I don't think he will, in fact I'm pretty certain. Nigel kept saying he'll tell everyone I threw myself at him, and I wanted it."

"Okay well you've told me the truth, haven't you?"

She nods, "yes, of course, he was all over me. I can't stop think about him....the sick....."

"I see........so are you sure you want to do some saucy shots?"

She is silent for awhile.

"I have to, but you have to promise me you won't tell Sean about the photos, and the headmaster. If my husband gets to hear then I don't know what I'm going to do. He really loves me."

"Okay, I'll arrange the shoot for next week, I think I can get you £10, and maybe more depending on.......well let's leave it there for the moment shall we?"

"I'm sorry to burden you with this."

I take the spool containing the tape off the recorder just after she leaves my study at the school. It's all on here, everything I hoped for and a whole lot more.

After a few hours of editing the original tape to another recording machine I have the finished version. I sit back with a whisky and play it.

"I was wondering about the modelling job, do you still need one?"

"Sylvia, are you really considering it?"

"Yes, I want to, I need the money. How..........much would they pay to photograph me in my underwear?"

"And what about Sean, I'm sure he would be really angry if he found out?"

"I can't tell him, it'll be between us."

"I see........so are you sure you want to do some saucy shots?"

"Yes, of course."

"Sylvia, there is something I want to ask you. I saw the headmaster going in your house a while ago, carrying flowers. Now I don't want to pry, but are you?"

"I'm having an affair with the headmaster. We arranged for him to come round when Sean was away. He, well he touched me, and put his hand up my dress. I like him and I was giving him the green light, because I took my wedding ring off."

"Have you told anyone?"

"No, apart from you. Please don't say anything. I came on to him. I really thought he was nice. He said there was an attraction between us that we both felt. He said he knew I wanted sex with him."

"What if the headmaster wants to see you again?"

"I think he will, in fact I'm pretty certain. I threw myself at him, and I wanted it."

"Okay well you've told me the truth, haven't you?"

"Yes, of course, he was all over me. I can't stop think about him."

"I see."

I play it a few more times, and while it is a little clunky, and I've repeated her words a few times, I'm hoping when I play it to her husband Sean, he will be too shocked to notice. I play the tape which I edited the other day when I talked to the headmaster in my office, where he tells me of Sylvia's desperation at wanting him again.

"So you say she was hoping for some sort of commitment headmaster?"

"Ronald, I swear she was all over me. Now we're men of the world, we know what women are like. She asked about seeing me again, she obviously has marriage problems. She thinks I'm her way out of it all, and that's why I had to tell her straight, it was only a bit of fun."

"How did she take it?"

"Not well, so if you notice she's a little off with me, you'll know why?"

I sit back with another whisky. So my dear dim witted neighbour will hear the headmaster was having fun with his wife, and her, my gazelle, also admitting to it.

I sit planning my next move, first the photos, and then another session of her taped voice. I'll edit it, and then I'll take the tape to her husband, telling him how disgusted I am with myself for keeping his wife's infidelity from him, and I just couldn't anymore. With a heavy heart I'll tell him I managed to secretly switch on the recorder a little while after she started telling me things. Both tapes suggest it was Sylvia who made all the running. Who in their right mind would forgive a wife after that!

She really looks quite nervous, as she steps out of the storeroom in my classroom. She's wearing along white dressing gown covering the underwear I gave her to wear. I watch Lance and Mark look her over, and Jimmy licks his lips. I have told the guys that she will be nervous, and if we are very lucky, and it all goes to plan, after a few sessions Sylvia will be doing a whole lot more than just posing in underwear.

"There's nothing to fear Sylvia. The guys here are very good, and professional."

My poor gazelle is shaking, well she is surrounded by a pride of lions all waiting to pounce!

Mark whispers in my ear, and hands me a lipstick. I tell Sylvia to apply it. She puts a coat of the bright red lipstick on, and then another. I take the lipstick off her, and ask if I can touch it up, she nods, but I can see her eyes questioning why.

Her nervous eyes look to the left as I paint her mouth. When I stand back all I can see is thickly painted red lips, which contrast beautifully with her white skin and black hair. Her lips look bigger, and plumper now, like some whore from the turn of the century, begging for attention.

As she reaches for the belt of the dressing gown the cameras start clicking. The gown opens, and a tantalizing glimpse of white bra, white suspenders, and white panties come into view. I go behind her, and pull the gown off her shoulders and down her arms. She stands there now still shaking with her head down. The brown silk stockings are pulled tight into the clips of her suspenders.

"I don't know if I can......."

"Sylvia, you can, just try and relax."

"More light Ron," Lance mumbles.

I go behind them and switch on the two lights. Sylvia blinks, and shades her eyes with her arm. We give her a few moments to get accustomed to the glare. The guys are snapping away, and Jimmy has already switched cameras. I stand in the shadow watching. If only she knew how much the bright lights made her white bra and panties almost see through, she would have a fit. I can clearly see the pink of her nipples, and further down that black bush between her legs. We get her to sit on a chair, with her legs slightly open.

She jerks back as Jimmy moves in a little too closely. He kneels on the floor, and then takes several photos of her looking up from low down. I know he will have captured her pussy, her nipples, and that pretty nervous face all in the same shot.

She does as they instruct, and she stands up and turns round. She puts one knee on the chair, with her other leg stretch back. Lance is on the floor this time, just a few feet from her. The light shines on the seamed stockings and her white panties. I can see clearly the dark line her crack makes in the panties, and on either side, the round full white bum cheeks.

"How about taking your bra off?" Mark asks.

"No......I, I don't want to."

I can see her shaking has increased.

I move to her as the guys change their cameras.

"Sylvia, I think they'll pay a little extra. You've done so well, and believe me the guys have seen a few models in their time with much less on than you."

"B, but you're here. It isn't right you seeing my breasts......"

The fucking bitch! I calm myself.

"I'll stand behind you."

I stand behind her and she still doesn't move.