The Widow Wore Black - Cover

The Widow Wore Black

Copyright© 2014 by harry lime

Chapter 10

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 10 - The time is 1941. The place is England. The main character is Honey Weston. A female with posh roots and base instincts. A family history of German connections and petty criminal activities. Honey is ready to take the stage with her mixture of class and crude. She wants to be good but can't help being bad.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Coercion   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Historical   MaleDom   Spanking   Light Bond   Humiliation   Safe Sex   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Doctor/Nurse   Foot Fetish   Clergy   Violence   Military  

(Taken Off the Playing Field)

When Honey hiked up from the rocky beach in her soaked clothing, she could smell the odor of fish everywhere. In fact, the gulls were circling over her head and she looked around for the rotting bodies of the remains of some catch. Then she realized the stench was coming from her own body and clothing and hair. The few moments in the water had not washed away the scent of the fish that seemed to hover about her like some shroud of disagreeable distain that refused to make an exit.

The fisherman who had taken pity on her could only stash her in the hold with the rest of the catch so that the inspectors didn't search too carefully in the disconcerting stench that rose when the hatch was opened. Honey was fighting off the urge to vomit in the closed quarters but she just buried her face in her sleeve and waited for them to leave before coming out to the deck. The old man laughed at her because now she smelled worse than he did. She had wrinkled up her nose at him when they first met and she regretted her sensitivities now that she was in the same boat.

She had no weapons on her because they would only bring trouble if she was apprehended. At least, with no incriminating evidence she might be able to convince the captors that she was just an innocent civilian whose boat had sunk when it hit an underwater rock. That was not unusual in these waters where the bottoms are not mapped all that well. When they were well out of the danger zone, she celebrated with the fisherman with a half bottle of cheap wine swilling it down to get the presence of the fish smell out of her thoughts.

The old fool thought she was a bit drunk and she played it up big pretending not to notice when he played with her rump and "accidently" bumped into her breast. It was the least she could do to repay him for risking his life to save hers. She looked out over the rail and watched the following birds letting her head roll like a stupefied female and offered her body to act as putty in his grizzled hands. Honey thought it was funny how excited it seemed to make the old man to play with a pretty girl's goodies and she wondered how old his wife was or had she already passed away. The fishing folk were a fairly close-knit crowd and seldom if ever got divorced although the men were notorious for finding other distractions in their travels. Perhaps that was the secret to their long partnerships and larger than usual broods of young ones. His avarice kept her mind off of the terrible circumstance with poor Marcel and she was glad she no longer had the weapon that she had used to give him instant solace. Looking back on her relationship with him she realized that it was more satisfying than her silly marriage even if they had only coupled the one night under the watching moon. Her husband had taken to drink and the use of his thick black belt as an instrument of punishment for imagined mistakes. She knew that in all honesty she had accepted it all because she did have a deep-seated conviction he was her soul-mate underneath all his faults.

Honey pushed all those negative thoughts out of her head as they sighted land off the port bow. The skillful sailor put them quite close to the rocky shore and she jumped into the water touching bottom before the water reached her neck. It wasn't even necessary to swim to shore. She could walk on the bottom and hope there were no sharp rocks underfoot because her boots were strung around her neck in case the water was truly deeper than they thought.

The stench was so bad that she stripped off all of her clothing and washed in the surf using the tall grass to rub off the smell. Her clothing was a different story and would require lots of soap to take out the smell. She left the beach feeling a bit more normal but knowing full well she was still not presentable for normal company and should not go indoors until she had a good shower and hair wash.

The phone booth was a godsend and she entered the pre-arranged code into the box knowing that she didn't have to say a word. There would likely be a transport arriving in a matter of moments just as soon as she hung up. She didn't know how they did it but it seemed like they could pinpoint the exact location of any emergency call immediately and dispatch the waiting squad to retrieve the agent in harm's way.

She saw the nondescript black sedan pull up outside and went into the back seat knowing that the poor driver would have to open all the windows if he wanted to make the trip in comfort. Fortunately it was not one of the service staff that she was previously acquainted with so it was not that embarrassing.

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