Room 2D

From Blushes 55 with Wendy Collings Arlene looked idly at the shelves, the books. Mr Filchard had an awful lot of books. Or more accurately a lot of awful books she thought, picking out a title here and there and frowning as she did so. Nothing remotely readable, not what you’d enjoy reading. All dry as withered old bones. The books you’d expect a tutor to have in fact; probably Mr Filchard himself was like a withered old bone himself.  Why did she have to be here?  To have some of these awful old books drilled into her was the answer. English, French, Eng. Lit. Oh Christ. What she needed instead of that was to see Mark. Her boyfriend. See him and get some action. But her mother said… Arlene turned, frowning still, sauntering over to the large window. Outside there was Mr Filchard’s garden bright in the afternoon sunshine. ----//---- Arnold Filchard observing her through a little spyhole made for this purpose at con...

From Uniform Girls 20 The long summer day, humid and sticky, has at last begun to lose its heat as twilight settles over the grounds and uneven rooflines of The Grange. At the foot of the main staircase, in what is known as the ‘front building’, a clock, high up on the wall opposite the stairs, stands at twenty-seven minutes past nine. From the direction of the darkening east wing, comes the thin sound of sporadic whistling, tuneless for the most part, and drawing slowly nearer; and now, from the first floor, the patter of hurrying feet echoes softly around the lofty entrance hall. A girl appears suddenly at the top of the stairs and comes skittering rapidly down them, her blonde hair bouncing, and she scampers across the black and white marble tiles which pave the hall, to a cupboard which is set back into an alcove. She stops in a fluster before the cupboard, her hands at the waistband of her skirt, unclipping and unzipping, w...

From Blushes Supplement 22 Today, just after lunch, I saw young Sally down by the old man's shed. Just hanging around I think. I watched her from my allotment, over the hedge. It must be a good ten years or so since they moved into the village. She's a good-looking girl, no doubt about that. Lovely shoulder-length curls of reddish hair, bobbing around as she turns her head this way and that. And she's grown quite tall since her earlier teenage years. I wondered what she was doing, on her own, down by the shed. She definitely looked uneasy as though she hoped no-one was watching. She couldn't see me, though I was so close I swear I could feel her perfume on the sultry warm air. She was looking for something. First she stretched up, feeling along near the top of the door, and I saw her nipples pressing out against the taut material of her tee-shirt. I must confess I've often wondered what she looks like. I mean, ...

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