Windows Bk. 02 Ch. 02

"Come on take it off," Mark says a little gruffly.

"You do it for her Ron, just pull the strap off her shoulders first," Jimmy says.

She nods a little. This is working out even better. I touch her bare shoulder and she flinches. How fucking dare she shudder at my touch!

I put my hand on the strap, and pull it down off her shoulder to her arm, as the cameras click away recording every movement.

I feel her tense up, as my hand moves up from underneath her bust. My fingers coil on the lacy cup of her bra, although I'm careful not to touch her breast. Just a couple of fingers slip along the edge of the lace, and then in from the top, just enough to grip the bra. Her breast heaves with nerves, as my finger tips press the delicate material to the palm of my hand.

My fingernails are against her fleshy breasts now, and I savour the feeling. She's whimpering and shaking, but my Sylvia remains still, with her arms hanging down. Slowly I pull the cup down, as the camera clicks get more frantic. My fingers feel her nipple, and I watch over her shoulder as the pink rubbery lump flicks up out of the bra cup.

The cameras click more frantically, as her full right breast is exposed to their devouring lenses. I cup my hand under her exposed right breast, as I'm sure she would do to herself. I lift and my fingers press in her warm but quaking flesh.

I can feel myself breathing on her shoulder. My other hand causes her to stomach muscles contract, as my hand slides over her belly. I let my hand glide down over the suspender belt, and then to the top of her panties. Sylvia's shaking has increased, any second now I'm expecting her to wriggle out of my grasp. I maul her breast firmly, as my finger tips slip under the elastic waistband of her silky panties. She mumbles a no, but doesn't move. I can feel hair now, pussy hair. The cameras are clicking as fast as my heart is racing. Another inch or two and my fingers will worm their way into her warm slit.

She struggles and twists. A single word, "no," comes from her trembling voice. I grab her waist wanting to fuck her now, but she twists free and rushes to the storeroom.

A few minutes later she runs past us with her head down, and races out of the door. I look at my hands, my now two lucky hands, which have felt her flesh. For a few seconds I want to laugh, because of the shock of getting so far with her, but I don't.

The guys before me are stood like statues, in as much disbelief as I am. Jim is the first to gather his wits. He hurriedly packs away his cameras, and heads for the door. He looks back at the rest of us each in turn. He smiles such a wicked smile, and then leaves.

"We have to have her again," Lance mumbles, still in shock.

Mark voices his approval too, as we sit in the pub, huddled together like three scheming old men. We're just about over the shock, and the ideas are starting to fly thick and fast.

"Ron, do you reckon you can get her to model for us again?"

I sit in thought for a while.

"Honestly gentlemen, I don't really know."

I lay on the bed still wearing the underwear Mr Smith had me put on. Those eyes watching me, and the camera lenses feasting on my body, rolls through my head. I can still feel the heat of Mr Smith's hand on my breast and his panting breath on my shoulder. The pervert pushed his hand in the top of my panties, and I felt him grip my pubic hair gently. I think he kissed my shoulder, I'm not sure, but I was too frightened to think straight at the time. He found my pussy lips, and then it became all too much. I twisted away and went in the storeroom.

I close my eyes and feel myself shudder.

It takes me a few days to get copies of the photos off everyone. As I sit looking at them I'm dumbstruck. Her face looks anxious in a lot of the photos, and scared in the later ones. My pretty gazelle caught in the paws of the lion. If you asked a professional model to pose with shock and dread on her face, they wouldn't come near to how Sylvia looks. It's like she is frozen in terror, unable to move, as some intruder's fingers grope, and then tease in her bra and panties. I look at my lucky hands in the photos, and then to the lust written all over my face, as I slithered my fingers under her bra and panties. Her trimmed black bush can be seen through the thin white panties, thanks to the powerful lights. I can actually make out my pink fingers, under her white panties, dancing around in her pubic hair.

I look to the close ups Jimmy took, before I got involved. In an eight by ten photo, in full colour of her panties, I can make out her pink lips, those pink lips which for a brief few seconds, I got to touch!

My dilemma now is how I approach the young lady next door, and convince her to model again.

I knock on his door. He looks shocked to see me, but a smile crosses his face.

"My dear Sylvia, this is a pleasant surprise."

I gulp, the way he said pleasant, was more of a question asking me my intentions. His smile is slimy, and I guess we are both remembering what he did to me, how he touched me, and how he made me feel.

"I, I was wondering if you have my money....the money for the..."

"Modelling my dear?"

I'd call it more groping than modelling, but I nod almost ashamed for agreeing with him.

He moves aside but I hesitate.

"Surely you don't want to conduct our business on the street, for all to hear?"

He sounds so perverted; every word that comes out of his mouth has my skin crawling.

So my pretty gazelle has come round begging for her money. I'm not letting her off lightly though. The bitch didn't want me seeing her naked, but she allowed me to fondle her to a certain degree, and now she wants paying.

"Sylvia, I thought maybe you would forgo the payment, after all you do owe me money."

Her mouth opens in shock and her lips tremble.

"Can we sit down?" she asks, with a delightfully nervous tone in her voice.

We sit opposite each other; she's wearing a red mini dress with gold buttons on the front. Her legs cross, and her hem is so close to revealing what I want. I take my time looking from her feet, up her legs, and onto her crossed thighs. Well there's no point hiding my gaze from her now.

"I really need the money, and you promised."

His smug expression doesn't change. He's making this very hard for me, but I guessed he would. His eyes stare at my tits for a while. He doesn't bother trying to hide what he is looking at. I can see delight play across his lips. He is delighting in how uncomfortable he is making me feel. His eyes wander down to my lap, I could pull my dress down a bit, but I don't. He's like a lot of men now who look at me, they don't have to say a word because it is written in there eyes what they are thinking.

"I know you've been good to me, but I need the money. I had a nasty letter from the television rental shop, demanding payment."

Her voice sounds so soft and delightfully tainted with fear. She lowers her head.

"I'll model for you and your friends again."

She said it even softer than her words before. I can't believe she means it. She looks up and in to my eyes. I open my mouth but she stops me from speaking, by slipping on the floor at my feet. I watch her pretty red face look up at me. There is deathly silence for a while, and I can hear my own heart beating.

"Please Ron; Sean is going to hate me if I can't sort this out?"

"Sylvia I...."

"Please let me finish. I am at your mercy, and no doubt you'll enjoy watching me earn the money. I won't be able to say no. All I'm asking is you pay off my debts, all of them next week, and.....I'm yours....to photograph."

My head is spinning, as the knelt figure in front of me looks down at the ground. There is so much she is offering that it has blown me away. While I've been shocked by things lately, this is by far the biggest. Some might jump in with both feet and pay, but what is my young gazelle really up to?

If I pay her debts, and then she says no, I still have the tapes I've made and edited of us talking, and now I have all this on the tape machine, which is working away in the cupboard.

My ultimate goal is to make her mine. I could fuck her right now, but the gazelle is trying to mesmerise me with some weird hypnotic dance of promises. While it is a worry she might have something up her sleeve, I wasn't born yesterday, and those sexy green eyes and long legs, won't cloud my judgement.

"Sylvia, I'll think about it for a few days, before I decide?"

She looks a little miffed; I suspect she thought I'd jump in with both feet. I watch her fist close and then open again. Finally she nods.

She gets up and doesn't look at me; she leaves me in the room. I hear the front door close and I sit for a few minutes. Only the tape machine, flicking the end of the tape round and round in the cupboard makes me get up. I smile and pour myself a whisky.

Her husband is back, and I can hear his raised voice. It sounds like she has told him about the money problems. He storms out of the house yelling something about going to the pub. Perhaps it is time I went to the local dive, to buy my neighbour a drink.

He sits at the bar drinking a beer, with a whisky sat next to it on the side. I stand next to him.

"Good evening Sean."

He grunts.

After buying him another beer it finally comes out. He wants to move to Scotland, but he tells me, the stupid bitch doesn't, and has got them both into debt.

"Sean, will you come round and see me tomorrow? There's something I want you to listen to."

He sits there stunned, listening to his wife's confession about her affair with the headmaster, and asking me to get her a job modelling in racy underwear. I've explained to him that I run a night class and we use the odd model now and then.

"It saddens me Sean; I never thought Sylvia was like that. I have tried to talk her out of her affair with the headmaster, but alas, she won't listen, another whisky Sean?"

He drains the glass and I fill it again.

"I was hoping I could make her see sense, but I fear she is too far down the road. I started recording her, without her knowing, because well, I didn't think you'd believe me, and who would, who would believe their wife was a......well. I did question the headmaster," I say, and then point to the recorder.

He nods slowly, and I push the button.

"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."

I watch Sean's knuckles tighten around the glass.

"Play it again, the bit where you ask her about him taking flowers round."

"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."

Sean stares at me for a moment, and then throws the whisky down his neck.

"And the bit about modelling, how did she come to ask you about it?"

"I distribute a few posters up around the town, asking for male and female models for my evening classes. Here let me show you."

I hand him one of the copies, which can be seen around the local shops and newsagents.

"It's all above board. £6 a session, it was Sylvia who suggested some sexy underwear as you've heard on the tape. I could show you one or two but I don't have them here. They are just shots of her in her underwear."

"You know my friends are always looking at her. I used to think she just ignored them, but I guess she likes it. Yes it all fits now. I was proud of her, because she has a great body and......."

"Sean, don't beat your self up over it."

"The only thing I'm going to beat up is that fucking headmaster, the fucking weasel. Then I'm fucking off back to Scotland!"

How delightful, the poor man is so full of rage, he hasn't even mentioned confronting the whore he married.

"Are you going to talk to Sylvia?" I enquire.

"Why the fuck would I bother? No it's finished, over; I'll see a solicitor and start divorce proceedings. She'll lose the house, and as you pointed out earlier, all the debts are in her name, so I'm in the clear. It is what the cheating whore deserves."

It's been a week since Sean went to the school and punched the headmaster. Here I stand in front of the board telling them what I know about his affair with a certain dinner lady. The board, much to my annoyance, has given him one last chance, but poor Sylvia has lost her job.

I went out of my way to go and see Gillian, to tell her the sorry news as she came out of church, the day after Sylvia's husband went berserk. Gillian has disowned her friend, and luckily she told me she saw the headmaster at Sylvia's door with a bunch of flowers. So with hidden glee I've been to see Sylvia, telling her Gillian, the church goer, saw the headmaster at her door. I suggested it was Gillian who told her husband. Luckily again for me, Sean hasn't confronted his wife, not even by phone. She told me her husband has sent divorce papers, and won't even talk to her. My poor gazelle is now alone, frightened and in the open, as the lion stalks in the shadows.