by Bridy McAvoy
“Ah, that explains why he was asking about your boyfriend then.”
“Honestly, he’s fine. Likes a drink… more than my dad does, but he’s no worry.”
She moved off as another customer bumped their trolley against the end of my grocery belt.
“Good morning, would you like any help with your packing?”
The woman shook her head and started unloading her shopping onto the belt.
* * * *
Since Monday to Thursday nights were always late finishes, my dad would walk the half mile down the road to meet me and walk me home. Gareth had volunteered a few times, but there was little point. I’d been at college all day, at the shop for four hours, and I wanted something to eat, and then I needed to study. If I didn’t study on those nights, as well as during the day on Saturdays when Gareth was working, I’d fall behind. For me, passing the college course was the ticket out of our humdrum existence for both of us. It wasn’t fair to ask Gareth to sit downstairs and watch TV with my dad while I went upstairs and studied. It wasn’t fair on me either.
After those first few attempts it was my dad who waited for me. This particular week, I was surprised when Frank came through my till just before the end of my shift.
“Do you need any help packing, sir?”
He chuckled and I lifted my eyes to find our neighbor standing there.
“Did you get your mum’s text?”
I shook my head. “No, my phone’s in my locker.”
“Ah, right, of course.”
“Has something happened?”
“Don’t be silly, no. I was coming down here for some beer, offered to get your dad anything he needed, and said I’d walk you home. Your mum texted you to let you know.”
“Oh, right. I’ll be off in about five minutes.”
“I’ll wait by the door. No worries.”
“Thanks.”
I finished serving him and bit my lip for a moment before serving my next customer. Frank had done this before, and my mum always let me know. It didn’t happen often, and I usually knew about it before my shift started. This time, though, it was a last minute kind of thing, and I was in the dark. If it hadn’t been for him watching me the previous Saturday, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Still, what choice did I have now? Unless I created a scene and all the sordid little details came out. The moment they did there’d be a blazing row and I was sure Gareth would find himself persona non grata in our house. That couldn’t end well. I loved him, but I wasn’t sure either of us were ready for me to take the inevitable next step. I didn’t want to move out under a cloud either. I’d prefer my parents’ blessing.
My supervisor rang me off and I walked through to the staff room to collect my coat and phone from my locker. Sure enough, there was the message from Mum. I was sure Frank hadn’t been lying, but there was some comfort in checking. There were three texts from Gareth too, so as I walked out of the shop I was texting him back. As a result I almost walked straight into a grinning Frank.
“Whoa there!”
I looked up at the last second to see I was just about nose to chest with the man. I stopped on the spot. “Sorry.”
“Didn’t want you to drop that important phone of yours. Come on, I know your mum’s got the tea in the oven for you.”
He was laden with two bags of shopping and, being me, I couldn’t help offering. “Want me to carry one of them for you?”
“No.” He chuckled. “But thanks for asking.”
We started on the long drag up the hill toward home. Just before the top, we’d reach the turnoff for our road, and we were right at the end.
“How’s your shift gone?”
“Not bad, not too quiet. It’s always quieter early in the week.”
“And college?”
I didn’t think he was prying, just trying to make conversation, so I forced myself to relax. Gareth hadn’t replied to my texts yet. I guessed he was immersed in his Xbox and his head wouldn’t come out of that for a while. He had quite a muted text tone on his phone, so I doubted he had even heard it.
“Going well.”
“Graduate this year?”
“All being well.”
“And what then?”
“Hopefully, get a better job.”
He chuckled and I saw him shake his head as we passed under a street lamp. “Good luck with that, young lady.”
We walked on in silence for a minute then he spoke again. “Still…”
“Still what?”
“Maybe you’ll be able to wear clothes that show you off a bit more.”
“Sorry… What do you mean?” My heart sank. I knew what he was referring to, and he knew I knew that as well.
“You know the answer to that question without me saying anything. Your little show for your boyfriend the other night.”
I sniffed and tried to make sure I looked anywhere other than at his face. “That was private.”
His laughter sounded like a cross between a snort and a bark. “Listen, I spotted a shadow moving around in your garden. So I snuck out to try and catch the prowler—I thought it was a burglar or something. I recognized his coat and, as I turned around I spotted your light come on. I was intrigued.”
“You didn’t have to stay and watch.”
“Hell, why not? There was a beautiful young woman giving a show. You are, you know, beautiful, even more beautiful with very few clothes on.”
“Stop it!”
He paused and looked at me. I stopped still as well. “Listen, young lady. You looked great and you knew it. In fact I know you saw me watching too, and that didn’t worry you a bit.”
“Yes it did!”
“Then why, just before you closed the curtains, did you smile straight at me?”
“I didn’t.”
“Who were you smiling at then? You reached for the curtains, saw the glow from my fag and stood stock still for about a second, then, as you started to close the curtains, you smiled. You certainly weren’t looking at young Gareth at that point.”
I tried to give a sharp retort, but no words formed.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“Stop it, stop it. It won’t happen again.”
“Are you sure about that? What are you going to tell Gareth about the fact you enjoyed it but won’t do it again?”
“Did he see you?”
“Nah. He scarpered as soon as you closed the curtains. Tell me, why did you chicken out and end the show for him before you took your knickers off?”
I bit my lip and then volunteered the information. “I heard someone go to the loo—I think it was Mum.”
“Ah, worried you couldn’t explain what you were doing?”
“Something like that.”
“I take it she knows what you and Gareth get up to?”
“What Gareth and I do together is none of your business.”
“Not prying, Penny, believe me. I don’t want to know. All I want is the chance to watch again.”
“Not happening.”
“What, not this weekend?”
I shook my head.
“Well, you could always do a private show just for me when you change out of your uniform.”
“No… I mean it, it’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
I rolled my eyes and snapped at him. “Because I’m on. Man U are playing at home, not that it’s any of your damned business.”
“Ah.” He actually managed to look embarrassed. He’d got my meaning all right. “Sorry.”
We’d reached the end of our road and turned the corner. I didn’t have much more of this torture to live with.
“Maybe next week sometime, then.”
“Maybe never.”
“Think about it, Penny, you enjoyed it. I could tell you weren’t far away from touching yourself on Saturday night. I bet you did after you closed the curtains.”
My face was bright red as I turned onto the path leading up to our front door. I tur
ned to say thank you to Frank for walking me home, even though the last half of the journey had been sheer hell, but he was right behind me.
He held up one carrier bag. “For your dad.”
“Oh, right.”
He followed me in, and while Mum fussed around getting my dinner out of the oven and getting me settled in the kitchen, Frank sat in the front room talking to Dad. Mum joined them and they were all still gossiping when I put my plate in the sink and headed for the stairs to study. I was also going to change out of the shop uniform, but I was going to be doing that with the curtains firmly closed.
Chapter 3
Gareth tried to make our weekends fun when I was on my period. I’m not sure watching Transformers’ Revenge of the Fallen was that much fun, but at least it had been a cheap rental from the shop next door to where he worked. It’s one of those films that needs a big screen, and surround sound and popcorn. We had cola, but unfortunately none of the others. His twenty-one inch TV didn’t do the film justice but, bless him, he tried.
We didn’t fool around much either. We both knew that if he played with my breasts and I played with his dick we’d both end up frustrated that we couldn’t take things further. So we just enjoyed each other’s company and kept our making out within bounds. Then it was Sunday, and the start to another grinding week.
I didn’t see Frank again before Wednesday—at least, not in person. At night though, I was in trouble. Once my period had finished, I found myself having some very bizarre dreams. Dreams that centered around me being watched, sometimes by one man, sometimes by several, and once by a crowd. Frank was always front and center, watching me, smiling, urging me on, to strip naked.
Every time I woke with a start, and every time I found my nightie was rucked up above my waist, my fingers and pussy were wet—they’d obviously been in close contact with each other. Tuesday night was bad. I woke five times and, as a result, Wednesday morning I had to grab a shower before college because my whole body stank of sex. I just hoped Mum didn’t decide to tackle my laundry for me—she might notice the smell and, even worse, recognize it for what it was. I didn’t want another of those conversations.
Wednesday I finished college early, so managed to get home and grab a sandwich before heading to the supermarket. Just as I was about to leave, Mum dropped a bombshell. “Frank will be walking you home tonight. He and Dad want to get some beer laid in for the big match on Saturday. Gareth will be here, won’t he?”
Since that had been all he and Dad had talked about the previous week, I was sure I’d be losing my boyfriend to the footie. Not that I minded, he wasn’t a fanatic, just watched the big matches. A Manchester derby in a cup quarter-final didn’t get much bigger, not around here. “Sure.”
If he wasn’t, he’d be watching it at home on his small screen, so he might as well do a bit of male bonding with my dad. I’d probably bring a book down, and I knew Mum would be reading one of her historicals as well. We both shared a conspiratorial smile—one of those men will be men kind of things.
The idea of Frank walking me home wasn’t so good, but I couldn’t say anything without having to answer questions I really didn’t want to answer.
Sure enough, Frank came through the shop just before it was time for me to clock off, although since I had a queue at my till, he had to go through the next one. “See you outside, Penny.”
I smiled and nodded, although deep inside my personal crop of stomach butterflies had taken wing.
As I clocked off, I couldn’t dawdle, not and get home in time for the dinner Mum would have prepared and waiting for me. This time I made sure my phone was in my pocket and I had nothing to distract me.
“Good day, Penny?”
“Not bad, I guess. You?”
He chuckled. “Could have been better.”
We walked on in silence until we started up the hill. He had a couple of heavy bags and one lighter one, and I could see he was starting to struggle.
“Come on, let me carry one of them.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll be calling for an ambulance more like.”
He frowned at me but stopped under the next street light and set the plastic carriers down. I could see the white lines where the plastic had cut into his hand, the rest of his palm red with suffused blood.
“You idiot. You’d have done yourself an injury just for the sake of your macho pride.”
“I can manage.”
“Right. Which one is my dad’s?”
He pointed to the one nearest me. “That one.”
“Then I’m carrying it.”
“There’s twelve cans in there, it’s heavy.”
“You should have used two carriers for them.”
“I did, one inside the other.”
I shook my head. He knew that wasn’t what I meant.
“You’re supposed to be taking it easy. Do you tell the hospital you still smoke and drink like you’re in the army?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Doh! I live in the same house as my mum and dad. They do talk to each other. I might have been away at uni when you had your heart attack, but I did hear about it.”
“I’m doing okay.”
“Unless you get too short of breath. I can read.”
He frowned at me but let it go. I think secretly he was glad of the help. “Why would you be reading about my health?”
“I wasn’t. I was worried about my dad’s.”
“Ah. He’s as fit as a fiddle, your dad.”
“He’s as fit as a fish because he, unlike you, doesn’t drink like one. He needs to get more exercise and stop watching so much TV.”
“Don’t talk about him like that.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll tell him about your little show with Gareth.”
I snorted. I’d been ready for that threat for days. “And I’ll tell him what a dirty old pervert you are.”
He chuckled and we stopped again.
Once more he put his bags down. “Pax, okay?”
“Okay.”
He grinned. “On one condition.”
“What condition?”
“I get my own private show, tonight.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “I told you I saw the smile on your face that night. You were turned on by the idea of having an unexpected audience. Now you need to find out whether or not it was the fact you didn’t know I was there that turned you on, or the fact you found out I was.”
“I’m not interested.”
“I bet you’d like to know the difference.”
We turned into the end of our road and started walking up. It was obvious he was coming in with his bags for a while, whether I liked it or not. After all, he’d just been shopping for my dad. They probably needed to settle up.
“No, I don’t.”
“Listen, Penny.” We stopped at our gate, partly so he had the time to finish what he was saying, and partly to catch his breath. I honestly think he was having a bad day that day. He didn’t want my mother scolding him for doing too much, or smoking or drinking too much. I could smell the beer he’d already drank.
“Listen, you eat your dinner. As you clear up, I’ll go home and you go upstairs. I’ll be out in the garden again. When you get to your room, look for the flare of my lighter as I light a fag. Then, put your light on and strip off your uniform. Just as you do every other night, except this time it’ll be with your curtains open.”
“Not happening.” My voice sounded a little shaky to my own ears. My mouth was dry and my breath was catching in my throat. I closed my eyes for a second and images of me doing precisely what he said flashed across my eyelids. I opened them again, to see he was watching me closely.
“Are you sure?”
My skin felt hot, my clothes clammy. Inside my bra, I could feel my nipples hardening at the thought of doing something so outrageous. Lower down, the heat was pooling between my legs.
“Yes, I’
m sure.”
He chuckled. “Well, I’m going to be outside then, just in case.” He leaned close and almost breathed in my ear. “I think you will. I think you want to.”
“Stop it.”
He leaned back, which was good, because the smell of beer was overwhelming.
“This time, be on the window side of the bed, and have the proper light on.”
“No.”
To stop the conversation getting me any more flustered, I picked up the bag of shopping and strode up the path. I could hear the old lecher chuckling as he followed me.
Once inside, I carried our shopping through to the kitchen while Mum dished up my tea, and Frank sat down with Dad and started talking about football. For a change, Frank refused a beer, and Mum left me to my own devices and returned to her book in the front room. I ate in silence, although I didn’t have that much of an appetite.
What Frank had said was running around my head. It was a good job I was on my own. I couldn’t, wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t right, not with a forty something man almost as old as my father. I certainly wasn’t prepared to do anything of the kind for anyone other than Gareth. But why, then, were my nipples hard in my bra? Why, when I squeezed my legs together, did my pussy lips feel puffy and hot? Why did a bead of moisture squeeze out and roll out onto my skin before my panties absorbed the moisture. Despite the smell of gravy from my plate, I could smell something else—the same scent I’d picked up this morning—my own scent. It didn’t belong in the kitchen!
Eventually, I scraped the residue off my plate into the bin, and heard Frank say goodbye. I stayed in the kitchen as he left, just waving in my direction. Then I heard the front door close.
“Good day, sweetie?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Studying?”
“Yeah, got an assignment to hand in early next week. Need to make a start on it.”
“Okay, up you go then, Pen, but don’t stay up too late. You want me to bring you a cocoa?”
“No thanks, Mum. I’m good.” I hated cocoa but she insisted on offering it to me every other night or so during the week.
“Goodnight then, sweetie.”
“’Night, Mum. ’Night, Dad.”
Dad just waved from the couch in front of the TV. I don’t think he’d said a word to me all night. He’d been more interested in discussing the footie with Frank. Leaving them behind, I slowly climbed the stairs and walked along the hall to my bedroom. The room had been my haven, my sanctuary throughout my childhood. Now, though, it was an alien place, somewhere where something wrong could happen, something bad. Bad, but at the same time good. I could feel the way my body was reacting, a very large part of me wanted to do this, wanted to expose myself to an older man.