Windows Bk. 02 Ch. 03

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From Mrs Smith to Mrs Smith!
6.5k words
4.57
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1

Part 9 of the 12 part series

Updated 06/14/2023
Created 07/03/2022
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SylviaG
SylviaG
1,394 Followers

The dust has settled now, five weeks after the split between Sylvia and Sean. The gazelle is working for the hyena in the fish and chip shop. I must admit I'm not happy with it, but I have mentioned to the owner only today, that Sylvia was having an affair with the headmaster at the school. I could see in his eyes his own disgusting thoughts of fucking her himself.

I'm getting on with things since Sean left me. Jake has come round and is telling me he heard the news. He tells me Sean has been seeing a tart who works in the pub, called Vicky. All those times Sean said he was going to see Vic; he never said it was woman who worked behind the bar.

I can feel the tears filling my eyes again. This unwelcome news has set me back.

"Sylvia, whatever you've done Sean hasn't exactly been faithful."

I look at her sat there sobbing into tissues. Even now she looks ripe for a fuck. I lean forward and put my hand on her knee. She half smiles as I comfort her. She has denied her fling with the headmaster, but Sean told me he had heard her confess. It has sort of pissed me of that she didn't come to me.

The throbbing in my jeans is getting to me now. She sits there with her purple miniskirt stretched tight across her thighs. I bow my head, until her head comes up and she looks at me, and I give her a smile, she smiles back.

"That's better," I say, and look down again.

I can see her white panties peeping out now. I slip my hand to the inside of her knee, and then gradually I move it up. Yeah I should have done this years ago, because the signs were there. She stops mid sob, watching my hand get to mid thigh, but she hasn't stopped me.

I lunge forward, slipping my hand on her panties, and pushing my lips on hers. Her legs try to shut, but my other hand wrenches her knee to one side. I push my fingers into the white material and feel between her cunt lips. I force my hips between her legs, as I keep kissing her hard. For once she isn't wearing tights, and I manage to get a finger in her panties. I feel the warmth of the cunt I've wanted for so long.

"Stop it Jake."

Fuck that! I press my lips on hers again. I grab her hips and pull her on the floor. I start tugging my zip down, as she struggles. But I'm sure she'll stop, she can't have had sex for a while, and she'd love it I'm sure.

"Come on, no one will know."

She shoves me and gets to her feet. I grab her as she opens the front door. A shocked face stands on the outside of the door, with his hand poised to knock.

"What the hell is going on?"

I stand there as she flings herself into his arms.

"She was asking for it.....it's what she's like, she encouraged me."

"I think you had better leave young man, before I call the police."

I take one look at her and push past them both.

I help my little gazelle in through the door, and settle her on the chair.

"Sylvia what happened?"

"One minute he's comforting me, the next he's......."

"Now now, don't you worry so...... he's gone it's all over."

"He put his hand on my knee, and then, he kissed and groped me. He told me Sean was seeing some woman called Vicky at the pub."

"Are you sure? I know this Vicky; she is nothing on you my dear."

"Well obviously Sean thought she was."

"Sylvia, did you encourage him like he said? I mean there is no smoke without fire."

"I don't know, he was being nice, and I smiled at him."

"That would be it then, while it doesn't excuse him, a smile can mean a lot to guy who is looking for any sign to, well........"

She nods; my poor confused gazelle isn't used to life on the plains on her own. I stand up and look down on her.

"Sylvia, had I not been calling on you, I dread to think where things would have gone. Now how about I make you a nice cup of tea?"

"He's married to one of my friends," she mumbles.

I fill the kettle, thinking how I could turn this information to my advantage.

"Maybe you should phone his wife, and tell her what happened?"

"No I can't do that, Hazel will think I encouraged him, I know what she's like."

"Do they live around here?"

"No, they live over by the railway station, in the house with the garage."

"Sylvia, I don't want to worry you, but what if he goes home and tells her you came on to him?"

"He wouldn't, I know Jake wouldn't."

I knock on the door of the house with the garage by the railway station.

"Excuse me young man, Jake isn't it?"

"What the fuck do you want knocking on my door at this hour?"

"Jake who the hell is it?" A woman calls from somewhere up the stairs.

"Your wife, Hazel I presume?"

He steps out and pulls the door behind him.

"Look, Jake, I've tried to calm Sylvia down, she's very upset. Okay I can see it was probably a misunderstanding, but she says she is thinking about telling Hazel what happened."

He rubs his hand across his face, and then stops and looks at me.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"As I've said Sylvia is on about telling Hazel, but I have convinced her not to phone at this late hour. She's gone through a lot recently. If she sleeps on it she might decide to do nothing. I'm only trying to smooth out the ripples, before it gets blown out of all proportion. Now I think I can convince Sylvia in the morning not to phone your wife, so please don't think about what any sane man would do."

"What do you mean, sane man?"

"Well, you might be tempted to tell your wife a slightly different version, and I wouldn't blame you. After all I see you have kids," I say, looking at the two bikes propped up against the house.

He looks at the bikes, and then back at me.

"Sylvia, worked at my school, in fact I was the one who got her the job there. You may have heard she had a fling with the headmaster."

"Yeah, that's what Sean said."

"Just because she did have an affair, it doesn't mean you should tell you wife Sylvia came on to you. Like I said, I think I can convince her not to phone Hazel, and hopefully she'll take my advice. So I'm asking you, man to man, not to get another version in first."

I walk away leaving the wheels in Jake's brain spinning to what I hope will be the inevitable outcome.

Two days later the council are painting over the words "slut" and "tart," on Sylvia's door.

"What's going on?" I ask Gillian, our god fearing Christian.

"I walked past yesterday, and some woman was painting such filth on Sylvia's door. It appears our neighbour tried to get her husband in to bed. She told me quite calmly, her husband came round and Sylvia tried dragging him up the stairs. Thank the lord Keith and I are moving next week."

"Oh dear Gillian, and you were friends with Sylvia."

"Yes well, I tried and she seemed so nice. Okay her hemline was always on the wrong side of decent, but I never thought she was the home wrecking type. Not content with ruining her own marriage she tried to ruin her friend's too."

I went to see Gillian when Sean punched the headmaster, she told me I was a hussy, and my husband was well rid of me. She said she saw the headmaster on my door step with flowers. I did mention to her a few days before that he was sorting out the garden for me while Sean was away. I told her what happened what really happened, but she said I was lying, and she knew by the way I dressed I was trouble.

I asked her if she had told Sean I was seeing the headmaster, she said I had stepped into the devil's playground, and surely I knew I would get burnt. While she didn't say she told Sean, I'm sure she did. The only other person who knows is Ron; I can't see him telling Sean, because of the modelling I've done for him.

Hazel phoned me and called me all the names under the sun. She said Jake had told her I flung myself at him. Then she told me to go and take a look at my front door.

Now I have another bill to pay for the paint, and the hours the painters work.

I need to see Ron again. I forgot about begging him to do the modelling with all that's happened. But I have got things a little straight, the telly has gone back, and I've sold some of Sean's tools, well bugger him. It has kept the wolves from the door, but now, well I'm going to have to find a bedsit, because I'll be evicted soon. So I'm seriously debating to ask Ron to let me model again, but getting the sack from the school, means I don't want to do it there.

I dish up the fish and chips in the shop where I work now. I feel Dave's hand brush across my backside. Today he's been more adventurous than usual. I go out to the storeroom to get a large tin of peas. I can feel his eyes on me as I step down off the ladder. I shuffle sideways past him and he pinches my ass.

At 10.30 he sits on the stool behind me, as I wipe the floor with a cloth.

"You missed a bit, get right under the fryer, love."

I watch her stretch; her yellow uniform can't hide her pink knickers under her black tights. That little hole in her tights wasn't there five minutes ago when she got the peas down.

I've sat here a few nights watching her wipe the floor. I won't let Sylvia use the mop, which is teasingly propped up in the corner. She gets down on her hands and knees with a cloth.

"You've got a hole in your tights Sylv."

She looks back at me as I stare at the hole, which is high on the inside of her thigh. She knows I'm looking up the yellow nylon dress, but she doesn't let it show on her face. No comment either, no acussing me of being a dirty old man in annoyance or even a joking manner. She doesn't even straighten up; she reaches further under the fryer. Her ass is sticking up and I can almost see up to the waist band of her knickers, because her uniform has ridden right up.

"You know Sylvia, I could lose customers having you work here, the woman who had an affair with the headmaster."

She spreads her knees a little more as she cleans. I can feel sweat on my forehead, as her ass slides back and forth as she wipes. I chuckle, knowing she gets what I'm hinting at.

She stands up with a red face, looking down over her shoulder at her leg.

"I can't see a hole," she mumbles.

I take her hand and guide it up under her short dress. I press her finger where the hole is, and I let my hand slide up a little feeling her pink panties through the black nylon. She goes to move away, but no I'm not having that.

"You nicked money out of my till, I told you if you didn't put on a little show I'd tell my wife, but I think I deserve a little more."

My hand slides across the nylon between her legs, and I cup her pussy and pull her back. I get my other hand under her chin, pulling her head round and towards me. I kiss her cheek as she struggles. My index fingers saws in between her pussy lips. I chuckle in her ear, as the friction from the nylon warms my finger.

"Come on sexy, I heard about you and the headmaster, I just want what he had. I want to get in this little hole of yours."

I push my finger, cursing her underwear.

She pushes her self off, as my old woman calls from up in the flat.

"I'll be there in a minute, I'm just locking up!" I call back in annoyance.

Sylvia grabs her coat and is off out in the rain.

"Don't worry love, we'll get another chance," I mumble to myself.

"Dave!"

"Coming, keep your hair on woman!"

The doorbell interrupts me looking through my damsels magazine.

"Hello Sylvia, what can I do for you?"

I move aside and let her in.

"I was wondering whether you wanted me to model again. I have got problems; I'm going to be evicted."

"I see, but what I don't see is how you doing a modelling session, is going to stop the bailiffs throwing you out."

"It's not, but it'll help me take my mind off of things, and I wanted to ask you something else."

"Well go ahead my dear."

For a few seconds I'm struck dumb. I knew sooner or later she would be evicted, and that was when I'd jump in, but here she stands, asking if she can rent a room until she can find somewhere else. Now I'm mentally jumping up and down with joy, but I have to control myself."

"Well I do have a spare room, but are you really sure?"

She nods, "Ron, I don't care what people will think of me moving in with you, obviously you might not like it, but I swear I didn't have sex with the headmaster. Not that people round here would believe me after what happened with my door being painted."

"Hmmm, well."

"The only thing is I can't afford to pay you not until my debts have been settled, but I'll cook and clean until I find a job."

Oh delightful, a van pulls up, and out get two men looking quite official.

"Sylvia, you're being evicted now, aren't you?"

She looks over her shoulder at the men going up her path.

"You should have come and seen me a few days ago, shouldn't you?"

Yes I'm being harsh, I want her in my house, but the desperation she is showing is something I'm enjoying. Torment and mental torture to my pretty gazelle is something I've come to enjoy. My plans and schemes to get her into my house have been thought out, and savoured, okay some have been risky, but that too adds to the attraction.

They knock on her door.

"Sylvia, go sort them out, and then come back with what belongings you have. You can stay with me."

She sighs like a weight has come off her shoulders.

"There will be a few rules you need to follow."

She nods.

I watch her hand back the keys to her house. This is a turning point in her life; a door in her life has literally been closed on her. She takes one last look at the house, and her dreams of the past, and then turns and heads towards me. I've won, the lion has his prey, and now it is time for me to devour her, slowly, savouring one tasty morsel at a time.

We sit at the table and I announce to Sylvia that Jim, Lance, and Mark will come round in two weeks time to take some photos of her. The more daring, the more she will get paid. The total of £275 she owes various companies and the council, I will pay off over the time to the interested parties.

"I'll have to change my name back to my maiden name, it'll avoid any confussion."

"My dear Sylvia, I don't want you changing your name, in fact I insist that you keep Smith as your surname and Mrs Smith on any formal documents, until your divorce."

I watch her eyes shift as she thinks, and then the penny drops.

"But people will think I'm your wife."

I smile at her waiting for the penny to drop further.

"You, you want people to think we are married," she says slowly.

"You really have no choice, unless you want to take your chances in grotty emergency housing. Look around you, there is comfort here, no mould on the walls, no damp which will ruin your clothes and seep into every pore of your body. There are no junkie neighbours playing their rock music all hours of the night and day. Is it too big a price to pay, to let any door to door salesman and the like think we are married?"

I detect a slight shudder in her body.

"Now imagine the senario, a salesman comes to the door, and asks for your husband, you don't have to say I'm not your husband, you say, I'll get Mr Smith, he'll say thank you Mrs Smith. There will be no correcting him; you just let him, or her, assume we are married."

She nods, no fight, no stuttering or trying to wriggle out of it, she just nods!

It's been a week since Sylvia moved in. I haven't laid a hand on her. She's cooked and cleaned, and she even smiled when I gave her cheque to pay off some of the rent arrears she owes.

An even bigger surprise is she asked to see the first photos we took. I watched her eyes scanning them quickly. I didn't hold back one photo, but I saved the ones with me in until last. She didn't bulk at them, and at one stage she placed her finger on my hand, which was disappearing into the top of her panties in the photo. It was like she was reliving it, with dare I say, a hint of excitement.

"What sort of photos are they going to take next time?" she asked distantly, still taking in her exposed breast, and my hand grabbing it in the picture. I didn't answer because I don't really know how she'll react.

My thoughts turn to her again tonight as she goes to bed. I flip open my magazine with the photos of damsels, in various stages of undress, being held and groped and tied up. The expressions on their faces of shock and terror draw me in. Lance got me into this stuff. He suggested we find a model that we could get to pose like this. I thought it a mad idea at first, but we tried with a couple of girls.

I look up to the ceiling where the beauty is sleeping above it. I look back to the book at the girl tied on the bench in the saw mill; her legs in black stockings are spread, and tied at the ankles. The giant circular saw spinning round in the picture is between her shins. In the next photo, it has moved up to her knees. I close my eyes and see the same picture, but with Sylvia's terrified face, as the saw inches slowly towards the pussy of my pretty defenceless gazelle!

"Good morning Sylvia, did you sleep well?"

She sits at the other end of the kitchen table staring at my magazine, which I've left there on purpose. I get up and pour her a coffee.

"I thought you should look through that my dear, it is the sort of thing I want to try when we photograph you next week."

She turns the front page over and looks down the index. She turns the page and sees a woman tied up on a bed, she flicks through more pages, until she gets to the saw mill shots.

"You want me to.......pose like this?"

"Yes, sometimes. You don't have a choice really, do you?"

I feel his hands on my shoulders. His lips are on the top of head; he kisses my neck, slowly, and then pulls away.

I'm staring at the photo of a woman tied to a long bench with a big saw spinning round.

"No.....I don't have a choice," I mumble.

"Good, I'll tell my friends you're willing to pose"

He looks at me and I shudder.

"Do you and your friends.....get off on this sort of thing too?"

"Yes, Lance got us all into it. There's something about the whole damsel thing, which Lance, and I in particular like."

"Then you should tell them, I've reluctantly agreed."

"Reluctantly?" he asks.

"You have me over a barrel. I think reluctantly is more apt, and wouldn't you and your sick friends get a kick out of that?"

He smiles at me and goes to take the magazine a way. I pull it off the table and on to my lap. I want to study it later.

"I have more if you wish to see them?" he offers.

I shake my head, but deep down I'd love to see more of them, but for a reason I can't and don't want to admit to.

"Ronald, I have to find a new job. I don't want to go to the chip shop again."

"Why ever not?"

"He'll grope me again I know he will, unless his wife is working in the shop."

"Sylvia, you took money from his till. You'll have to put up with it. I know you told me it was a moment of weakness and desperation, but it's the only way you'll learn."

I remember the antiques Ron has around the house. Some I'm sure are worth a lot of money. He is right he has stability and a comfortable home. I think about the chip shop owner.

"It's like one of those photos sets in that book," I say quietly.

"Yes, yes it is," he mumbles, "a poor defenceless creature like you in the hands of that fat whale, you wouldn't stand a chance."

He stands up and lifts my head by my chin.

"Sylvia, you do have to go to work in the chip shop, and I won't expect to hear you complain again, do I make myself clear?"

"But, he'll...."

He puts a cheque down to pay off the remained of the money I owe the TV licensing people.

"That's everything I owe them," I mumble in disbelief.

"Yes, now how about a nice kiss before I go to work?"

I don't move and his smile drops a little. I steal myself as I finally find the courage to press my lips on his. He grabs the back of my head. I kiss him with reluctance, I want him to feel it, and I want him knowing I'm only kissing him because I owe him. His clammy hand grips my right breast and he squeezes. Finally he pulls off. For a moment I think he is going to lunge at me.

SylviaG
SylviaG
1,394 Followers
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