Chapter 1

Many Memories fade with time, while others will remain with you always, especially those most pleasurable of memories, such as when I was 21 years old and a school drop who’d left the family home and had been drifting from job to job since the age of sixteen, fucking a few girls along the way if I got lucky, a hand job if not. I was a teenager never settling in one long enough to get anywhere in life while only ever earning just enough to run a car and get by ... just.

So another day, yet another job and there I was, a teenager working in a gas station., one of the few left that were by then not a self service station and where after just a week, my job was to fill the customer’s fuel tanks, check oil if asked and then take the cash, cheques and credit card payments There, in that small filling with costly staff kept to a minimum, I worked the early to mid afternoon shift, a busy shift during rush hours, but quieter later on.

It was late morning on a warm partly cloudy early summer’s day when I first saw her. From my office cum shop, I’d looked up from a certain magazine I was reading when a mid sized Ford saloon drove onto the garage forecourt before pulling up by one of the sets of pumps, before with undisguised boredom, I rose from my seat to stand by the door just as the women driver got out of the Car.

From where I stood I reckoned she was probably middle aged, maybe in her early forties or perhaps late thirties, a lovely redhead, although as she was standing on the other side of the Car from me, I could only see her head, shoulders, but to my delight, Aldo a very large pair of breasts pushing out from her light yellow summer dress. This was my kind of mature woman, long haired, tall and well built, but far from overweight.

In fact It was no exaggeration to say here was the statuesque and beautiful mature woman of so many wet dreams, walking around her Car to the rear, where the petrol cap was situated on that particular model, a very well maintained classic car in fact, leading me to grin when thinking both car and the redhead were very well maintained classics.

As many customers just stay in the Car waiting for you to serve them, I’d no idea so why this particular lady didn’t do so, although it may well have been better for her had she done so. Whatever, the tall redhead looked across to where I stood to give me a friendly smile in anticipation of service and so smiling back, while aware my heart beating a little faster, I made my way across to her Car.

Sometimes, not often in life, but just sometimes and when you least expect it, elements conspire to allow you a moment of pure joy and for me, to my utter delight, one such moment arrived when I was perhaps 10 or 15 feet from my customer when the tall redhead bent over with her hand reaching down to pull back the spring hinged license plate. For at that very moment, the sun came out from behind a cloud and suddenly the angle of the sun against her light summer dress, now pulling against her buttocks, turned the thin material of her dress almost totally transparent, sending my heart, already beating fast, thumping wildly against my chest.

For most women, easy fit tights and panty hose succeeded the appeal of stockings and suspenders or garter belts, however, today at least this lady was clearly having none of it. For that marvellous summer sun was to her obvious ignorance, providing me with a wonderful view of her transparent red lingerie. a breast exposing bra along with a tiny matching thong, suspender belt and black stockings, were all a clear contrast to her milky white skin beneath her dress, even down to the perfect milky globes of her buttocks, dissected by a tiny black thong.

At the time, this was indeed the most wonderful illicit sight of my young life. Sure I had seen naked women and girls, for real and on the Internet. And of course, I had a girlfriend whom I’d seen naked often enough, but there was something about this woman and something about that moment made her very special.

Then she was standing upright and turning toward me with the now removed petrol cap in her hand. Thinking back, I still don’t know how I dragged my eyes from this luscious beauty and removed the petrol delivery hose from the pump, before she saw my obvious discomposure. I did though, manage to bend over and place the hose into the filler, certain I must have sounded weird when asking how much fuel she required.

The words, “fill it up please’ floated down to me and I turned around, lifting my face toward her and nodding in acknowledgement before to my amazement the redhead had moved aside and was, remarkably, once again standing in that direct sunlight, only this time the front of her body was face on to my amazed eyes.

For leaning forward as I was, I was suddenly face on and only a couple a feet away from her midriff, where to my utter delight, I found myself looking straight through both the dress and her tiny transparent panties at the wonderful spectacle of her beautiful cunt

Cunt? Yes, her cunt, because this beautiful redhead had carefully shaven off her pubic hair until just a small triangle remained, the apex of which, pointed deliciously down toward that bare cunt! And, most wonderful of all, she appeared to be innocently unaware of either the trick the sunlight was playing on her, or of course, my fantastic view of her wonderful shaven cunt.

By then I had one hell of an erection and when the Petrol delivery was complete it was a struggle replacing the hose before making my way back to shop, while fortunately the woman was walking in front of me, once again blissfully unaware of her generous offerings, this time her glorious buttocks, before Having Somehow managed to accept payment and wish her good day, with ought arousing any suspicion from her.

However, for the rest of that day, and for long time afterward, the redhead occupied the very hub of my existence, in short, her face, body, cunt lips, and buttocks were embedded in my memory and instantly available to my minds eye. In fact my every available moment found me fantasising about just what I could do with this mature beauty If ever I had the opportunity, while needless to say, my cock stiffened at the prospect, throbbing violently until I was able to lie down, close my eyes and picture her whilst my hand did the job her cunt was made for and my spunk shot high and hard from my cock.

Of course sheer logic also told me the woman may well have had many reasons for dressing as she had on that sunny day, exhibitionism perhaps and a desire to flaunt her assets definitely being a the top of the list, along with a fetish for wearing such sexy lingerie. Or perhaps the simple pleasure of wearing such clothing to look and feel good, which although having my appreciation and huge respect, really didn’t fit the fantasy graining traction in my thoughts.

For the more I thought about it, the closer I came to my eventual conclusion she had been flaunting her considerable assets before me with a ‘you can look all you wish but you’ll never touch’ attitude toward someone she saw as a lesser being in her circle. And The more I thought about her flaunting herself before me the more my blood boiled. Creepy? Perhaps, but the hormones a of young male ten to create many fantasies...

Chapter two.

It was a couple of days later, when having an evening beer with a pal when I could contain myself no longer. Jimmy had long been my best friend, we drank together, went out together, dated girls together and It had been who had first introduced me first to the glossy bondage magazines he regularly obtained in town and later the pleasures of discovering such material on the internet.

To say I was hooked straight away would understate it and realising this, Jimmy soon had us chatting and discussing the subject, it was yet another bind to our friendship and very soon we were even discussing our perfect ‘ bondage subjects’ although at the time, neither us approached our respective girlfriends on the subject, mainly because Jimmy’s ideal subject’ was his older sister, although mine was for some reason, older women and at that time, my fantasy happened the forty something Barmaid in the pub where we drank, who although not a classic busty blonde barmaid, just happened to exude a strange fuck me beat me aura.

Although that particular fantasy had just taken a back seat and during that evening, I could not help but tell Jimmy of my experience at the filling station, after which Jimmy had nodded, before smiling wisely, as if in secret knowledge while I recounted my experience, with my cock stiffening yet again when I pictured her mature face and shapely sexy body.

“So what sort of car was she driving?” asked Jimmy when I eventually fell silent. “A blue Ford ... a big classic job” I replied. Jimmy was now smiling broadly and nodding his head.

“Mrs. Freeman” Jimmy eventually informed me... “Christ Will, that bitch is married to the Manager of the Timber factory where I work, they live up the lane just past your filling station, she’s probably a regular there and I should think you will be seeing her most weeks to fill her car”

“I gotta say she is one hell of a looker for her age though Will, she drops off old man Freeman at the factory quite a bit, never gets out of the Car, but you can see those big tits easily enough looking down from my office window and unless she wears some special sort of bra, she certainly scores big time in that department Will! ... In fact I have met her a few times when old man Freeman had my carry things down to the car for him, but I tell you now will, join the queue if your looking to fuck her, because just about everyone in the yard would slip that bitch a length of dick”

By now my mind was working overtime, the thought of seeing Mrs. Freeman’ (she was now more than just She’) on a regular basis had both good and bad connotations. On the one hand I could fantasise all I wished, on the other, what use is constant fantasising when all you could do is wank yourself silly! Although Jimmy had also mentioned she lived in the long lane just up the road from where I worked.

“So then Will’ said Jimmy interrupting my train of thought. “just what WOULD you do to your Mrs. Freeman if you were given the opportunity?”

Jimmy was openly asking me to reveal the bunch of jumbled thoughts I had been deliberating for the past two days. Fortunately I’d never seen myself as a masked rapist, although I most certainly saw myself as someone who wanted to fuck the delicious mature Grace Freeman while she was looking me in the eye, knowing I had dominated her into sexual submission and wondered if I should tell Jimmy about those thoughts, although of course, we both enjoyed the same type of sexual fantasies and so I told him, I told Jimmy exactly what, given the opportunity, I would plan for the subjugation of Mrs. Grace Freeman.

Jimmy listened intently, clearly fascinated by my ideas and his hand openly rubbed his crotch as I gave him a complete run down of all my thoughts about a get-together between Mrs. Freeman and myself. “Well’ replied Jimmy “that’s some fantasy Will boy, but hell I just love it!”

Jimmy then leaned forward, we were already sat in the quietest area of the Pub, but Jimmy now whispered conspiratorially. “What you don’t know Will, is that old Man Freeman spends weeks away at a time, in America and Canada on business and as they don’t have any kids at home, leaving the lovely Mrs. Freeman all alone by herself in that big lonely house!”

I leaned back in my chair and slowly exhaled my breath.

“Think about it Will, she must be gagging for it, dressing in that fashion, I reckon your ideas are just perfect, but you couldn’t do it on your own, so lets both of us work on it” “Sure she’s a white bitch and not really my perfect woman Will, but I cannot stand old man Freeman, he’s always having a go at me, he’s a racist, hates us blacks and always acts the I’m Mr. Big around here”

“What I can do is find out just when old man Freeman going away and help you by getting the things you’re going to need and maybe I will watch you fuck his wife!” “That would be revenge enough for me Will, every time I look at him I would think of his lovely wife on her knees sucking your Cock, maybe even mine, who knows!’ Jimmy then sat back, laughing and I joined him, careful not to overdo it and arouse suspicion of others in the Pub.

Chapter Three.

A week after our meeting in the Pub, on the Thursday, a regular day off, I drove into the filling station, parked my Car and told my replacement I was leaving it there while I walked into town and that I would collect it later.

Although once Outside, I doubled back and headed toward the quiet Lane where the Freeman’s lived, and then toward the house name Jimmy had given me. The lane itself was really an old road and leading to a disused chalk quarry and in fact along its mile or so length, contained only three houses, the last of which belonging to the Freeman’s and fortuitously standing in its own large grounds and outbuildings, a good third of a mile from the other houses.

Meanwhile Jimmy had been busy studying the arrival of old man Freeman’ each morning and it appeared Mrs. Freeman dropped him off just before nine three days a week, Tuesday, Thursdays and Fridays, before picking him up again around 4pm on each occasion. Jimmy had also innocently asked other staff why Freeman didn’t drive himself to work. “Liquid Lunches” had been the general amused reply, although another feeling was that Freeman being too tight to buy his wife a car so she could use his on those days, while Jimmy had also established the Freeman’s lived alone, their one adult son now living in Canada.

Although the fact was, I had no real plan devised in my head, just a desire to look at the house of the beautiful Mrs. Freeman and get a lie of the land, so to speak, although knowing what I would do with the sexy Mrs Freeman, it was just ‘how to get’ Mrs. Freeman I was still unsure of.

Finally my walk to me to the name plate on a fence, telling me I was at the correct address, while my watch told me it was 8.30 am and today was one of the days Mrs. Freeman drove her old man to work, so I needed to be a little careful. Carefully crouching behind some thick bushes, I studied the house, itself thirty or so yards at the end of a circular gravel driveway and which was probably around eighty years old, the type of older house with lots of character, old doors and windows everywhere.

Some minutes later I saw the front door open and from which emerged a short tubby looking middle aged man with a briefcase, this I assumed must be Mr. Freeman, who was soon followed by the vision that was Mrs. Freeman, once again wearing a light summer dress to the knees, although this one in pink, along with those unmistakeable black stockings as she followed her husband across the gravel drive to the Ford. No words seemed to pass between them as they both got into the Car, with she in the drivers side, as shrinking back into the bushes, I watched the Car, with Mrs. Freeman at the wheel, slowly coming toward me, before with both occupants still outwardly silent, the Car swept past me slowly making its way down the uneven road.

I looked again at my watch to see it 8.50 am, so would Mrs. Freeman return straight here after dropping off hubby? Somehow the way she had dressed for this time of the morning, told me she would go elsewhere first, as this was one of the three days Grace Freeman had the Car and so shrugging to myself, I realised I would only achieve my objective by being adventurous.

Pretty sure I was unobserved, I made my way up the gravel drive and still with no particular plan in mind, walked around to the rear of the large house. To the rear, beyond a small fence, was the disused chalk quarry, while In the garden were a collection of outbuildings, tool sheds and the like, along with a garage attached to the side of the house, while the rear of the house itself had one door and some large sash windows, all of which looked to be closed and probably locked. So I tried the handle to the house door and pushed, unsurprised to find it locked and so I walked across to the garage, which had its own rear door and which to my surprise was unlocked and so with a racing heart, I began my first attempt at breaking into a home and walked inside ... Standing inside the large, darkened double garage, my fingers searching for and finally found a switch, which when flicking it on, proved to be a light switch bathing the Garage in fluorescent light. A garage containing the usual collection of old tools, some golf clubs and a couple of chest freezers, although there was another door obviously built into the side of the house.

Strangely this door had its own letter box flap and which I opened, fully expecting to hear a large vicious dog charge the door, but all was quiet and the opened flap gave me an excellent view of a huge kitchen. A kitchen complete with large oak refectory table, matching units and a huge double stove. On the large table I saw a collection of what I realised were ladies tights, which were of no interest to me and I was disappointed to discover Mrs. Freeman may actually wear such things, although they seemed out of place in the otherwise immaculately tidy kitchen.

Trying the door handle, I was once again surprised to discover it unlocked, allowing me to push the door open and step into the magnificent kitchen, where thankfully there was no sign of a dog or of any pet’s. Even though I hadn’t actually broken into to the house, I did feel a slight sense of guilt, but one which soon disappeared when telling myself I was on an information gathering exercise and wasn’t about to steal the house contents and wreck the place.

As The kitchen windows gave an excellent view of the empty gravel driveway, I decided that as I was in the house, I may as well explore it and so walking from room to room downstairs, using my smart phone I took a few pics in various positions of each room in turn, while In the Large lounge, there were various framed photos of Mr. & Mrs. Freeman and one of a young man I presumed to be their son, none of which interested me.

After again checking the driveway remained clear, I made my way upstairs, looking into and photographing each of the first three bedrooms I entered, all of which appeared to be guest rooms, one of them being en suite.

Unlike those downstairs, all the upstairs bedrooms rooms had old style oak beamed ceilings and of which I took a couple more pics, until I eventually came upon what must be the master bedroom, such were the obvious signs of regular and recent use and which was also on-suite. Although I was surprised to see two large single beds, rather that the double I’d expected to see, although each bed was expensively made up, with a male dressing gown laying on one of them.

Hell, I thought, putting on my male chauvinistic hat, no way would I have allowed Grace Freeman to sleep in the own bed, not when she needed fucking at least a couple of times night. On the other bed, obviously that of Grace Freeman, lay a sheer black silk peignoir and my heart skipped a beat when thinking of Mrs. Freeman’s lovely curvy body encased in its luxury and of which I took another photo, before another quick peek through the window told me all was clear and I moved on to the several chests of drawers in the bedroom

The first drawer I opened proved to be a men’s sock drawer, which I quickly closed and moved on to a large chest topped with bottles of perfume and makeup. It was when opening the third drawer that I hit my own gold dust.

For there lay carefully folded sets of the most expensive sexiest lingerie I had ever seen, matching sets of Bra’s, thong’s, garter belts and seam stockings of every sexy colour imaginable, including the sheer red set Grace Freeman had worn when I’d first encountered her.

This one was mine I decided, before carefully removing the set from the drawer to lay the bra, thong and suspender belt on the bed, along with a pair of sheer black seam stockings, just below the black silk peignoir and in the order Mrs. Freeman would wear it, and wear for me. Then when studying at each size label, Bust cup 36d, Suspender waist size 28, thong size, 10/12. I thought, Jeez Grace Freeman could enter for Miss Universe with those sizes!

Having once again taking a photo, this of the laid out lingerie on the bed of Grace Freeman, I carefully folded the set and placed the sheer silk and nylon in my pocket before moving on the bedside chests of draws, realising I’d just committed my first act of theft, well not theft as I intended on eventually returning them for Mrs Freeman to model for me.

Next, her bedside table drawer, upon which sat a collection of pills and potions, alongside a book and a diary, which when opened appeared to be an everyday diary with ‘Grace Freeman’ written on the cover, while the only other item of note was a novel, entitled, “Master of Falconhurst” with a cover depicting what must have been a Black Negro Slave and a white woman in a passionate embrace, probably an American Civil War book, a form of slavery novel frowned upon these days, while obviously still of interest to some people.

Although closing the drawer was met with a slight resistance and so pulling the drawer all the way out this time, it was when feeling underneath that I found the cause of the problem, which I felt for and removed, it was a small although quite thick padded envelope. An envelope that had obviously been carefully hidden away beneath the drawer and one which being unsealed, I then carefully opened.

It was then I discovered the photos. For from within the envelope I took a bundle of eight by six computer printed photos, the top photo of which displayed Grace Freeman, wearing nothing more than a black suspender belt and matching stockings. Grace Freeman was on her knees with her wrists tied at her back, while her wide open mouth was filled by a red ball gag, the straps of which being secured secured at the back of Grace’s head.

Beside the kneeling naked Grace Freeman stood a very attractive well tanned Tall, slim, short haired blonde woman, perhaps in her early thirties, who with a hand proprietorially upon the head of Mrs. Freeman, herself wore only black Stockings, while in her case held in place by a red suspender belt. The woman was slim, yet also very curvy in all the right places and her fully tanned Breasts were only slightly smaller than those of Grace Freeman, although still firm and with very large nipples, while only the area below her tiny bikini line was not suntanned. In short, the blonde was a very attractive woman, who obviously looked after her body.

Although it was only when looking at photo after photo that I fully realised the staggering enormity of my discovery and that I really had hit gold dust.

From the first of the bundle, showing Mrs. Freeman draped over the other woman’s thighs, with the Blonde’s hand raised above Mrs. Freeman’s buttocks in an obvious spanking gesture, to others, showing the women kissing each others tongues lips, breasts and nipples and another where the face of Grace Freeman was quite clearly visible between the thighs Blonde of the Blonde with her tongue protruding toward woman’s shaven cunt lips.

Then came those of Grace Freeman captured in various stages of bandage. Most displaying the nature beauty gagged with that red ball between her lips with its straps secured behind her head, with wrists and ankles secured with leather cuffs or with white rope, while one photo even displayed Grace on all fours, with a large round butt plug inserted into her raised Anus. While in another, Grace lay bound and gagged on the bed,, with her legs drawn up and between them, a large pink perhaps rubber phallus was inserted between her cunt lips.

To say I was stunned would be putting it mildly, more excited shock at my discovery and had by now a massive hard-on, although I at least managed to remember my smartphone, with which after an eye on the driveway, I set about grouping the sixteen photos in fours upon a nearby table where I copied them all with the smartphone, while wishing I knew the identity of my mystery Blonde, fully aware I had quite possibly just discovered what appeared to be a means of ensnaring Grace Freeman

In fact from minutes earlier having seen myself as creepy pervert, although that may well be the case, it was becoming clearer and clearer I was in the right place as far as perversions were concerned, for not only was Grace Freeman obviously cheating on her husband, she was doing do while conducting a lesbian BDSM affair with the mystery blonde woman. However, if I thought that discovery was amazing enough to leave me with huge throbbing erection, it was a discovery about to be dwarfed by what lay ahead...

Chapter 4:

Having suddenly heard the sound of tyres on gravel, I quickly went to the window, wondering if I would make it downstairs and back into the Garage before Grace Freeman entered the house. Although the interruption turned out to be a white van slowly entering the gravel drive, before stopping about halfway to the house.

The sign on the van read ‘David’s FoodStore Deliveries’.

Relaxing a little, I watched a young black guy of about my age getting out from the van before sliding open a side door, obviously dropping off a delivery. Time, I thought, for me to replace those photos, tidy up and then to get out through the the door leading into the garage.

Although when downstairs in the hallway and looking out of another window, I again saw the Black guy, now looking at his watch and leaning against his Van. and looking at my own watch, I was surprised to see it was now almost 10.30, jeez, I had been in the house for an hour and a half, although when walking into the kitchen to make my way out. Then from another window, I saw that while the guy was still there, Grace Freeman’s Car was now parked outside and with a large grocery box in his hand, the black guy was following Grace toward the front Door.

Quickly opening the garage door, I stepping inside the garage and closed the door just when hearing the sound of high heels clicking on parquet flooring, gradually getting louder and obviously heading toward the kitchen.

Once again placing my eyes to the letter opening, I had another good view of the kitchen, although now one with the lovely busty Grace Freeman centre stage with arms folded across her large Breasts, closely watching the young black guy carrying a large grocery box into the kitchen.

“Right, put them over here for me to check and be quick about it “ said Grace Freeman, harshly and almost in anger. “Yes Mrs. Freeman” replied the young guy, walking across the kitchen and placing the box on a side unit.

“I remember the last time you delivered to me ... I was short on two items, it’s not good enough” This Mrs. Freeman seemed to have voice of real venom, which surprised me, not having thought of her in this light when speaking with her in the filling station. Although as I looked through the letter slot, there she was, looking angry as hell as she sorted through her delivery, all the time mumbling to herself and quite obviously discomforting the Black Guy nervously awaiting the decision of Grace Freeman.

Finally with the contents of the box all sat on the work top, Grace Freeman turned her head toward the young guy and said angrily.

“Okay, where is my fresh Salmon ... where is it? Christ ... you’re all the same you lot, thieves the lot you” I could hardly believe my ears, Grace Freeman was pretty much shouting at the poor lad.

“Look ... I’m sorry Mrs. Freeman ... but really ... its all there, I double checked everything” ‘Leroy’ managed to reply, before Grace Freeman shouted. “You idle lying thieving bastard! “ at the young guy, leaving me unable to believe my ears and eyes, what the fuck was all this about?

However, then the young guy was suddenly upon Grace Freeman and with a vicious slap on her left cheek, one that left Grace Freeman screaming and clutching her face, before slowly dropping to the floor as her legs gave way.

I could only look on in horrified fascination when shocked and sobbing, Grace looked up fearfully as the young guy grabbed a fistful of her long luxurious hair and growled.

“You call me an idle Bastard, you fucking piece of white cunt meat? ... get on your fucking knees!’ “ before lifting Grace Freeman by her hair, leaving the sobbing woman no option but to obey him, or to suffer further agony, which I thought odd, the black kid was a nice enough looking kid, but certainly no Mike Tyson and yet here he was, treating Grace Freeman like a rag doll.

“Jeez ... what the hell is going on here, what have I walked into?” I asked myself again. While Part of me was saying I should go to the aid of Grace Freeman, another asked just how I’d explain my presence should I do so. However, the part that won through was the sheer excitement and sexual arousal of surreptitiously watching the downfall of the beautiful Mrs. Grace Freeman, now screaming openly at her attacker for him to leave her alone.

Although the black guy had other ideas and was busy pushing the struggling Grace’s face toward his crotch. “What’s the matter white trash momma? you never some good black meat in your mouth, well now you gonna taste some for real!” And with that, Leroy unzipped himself before the sobbing crying woman.