28 Feb 2017
The Lady in the Cambric Dress
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She burst into our kitchen diner from the basement stairway with all the aplomb of a close friend, not the stranger she then was. The sudden uninvited appearance of this devastatingly attractive and bubbly person left me rather fazed for a moment before an incredulously discordant brummie accent emanated from this symphony of sophistication explaining she was Shirley just moved into number 11 and wanting to introduce herself had been directed from basement by Simon saying it was ok to meet us, spoken with all the assurance of a lady confident that her beauty gave consentaneous acceptance.
I'd first sighted this vision of womanly loveliness whilst idly gazing out of my classroom window the previous afternoon. Sauntering past my vision her body moved with a slow chasse' rhythm as the afternoon sunlight illuminated every sensuous curve beneath her tightly fitted white low cut cambric dress displaying to advantage her wonderful cleavage. A soft mass of copper coloured hair tumbled in tresses down to her lower back in perfect harmony with lithesome body. The smooth wrinkle free contours of the material suggested that the lady probably wasn't wearing either bra or panties. Certainly not the normal sort of parent we see at school. My curiosity lead me to enquire at the admin office the nature of her visit. She'd registered her two children as pupils. Had arrived from Birmingham a week ago. Simon had mentioned a couple of hours ago a Cathy Morris had joined his class year group and was now in the garage playroom with him. Shirley had now her hair piled high but I was sure it was one and the same lady.
Courteously refusing offer of coffee from Barbara said she'd had a rough week could do with something a little stronger.Seated on a high stool, posture leaving little decorum for modesty , Shirley spun us a harrowing tale of being recently divorced , but still threatened from her physically abusive millionaire ex husband , and showing scars to prove it . In an attempt to distance herself had chosen the remoteness of Cornwall after watching the Poldark series on TV and spent her meagre settlement purchasing number 11, a written off bungalow having major subsidence fault. Now she was entirely dependent on a weekly giro payment and small income from her current boyfriend Tony who was employed has a when needed security minder by a London businessman Having consumed her third double vodka she explained her financial situation was critical and asked if I'd consider giving her a loan against her next giro and Tony's allowance ? I'd thought her story implausible. Certainly her natural beauty could attract a millionaire but her working class background , that of being brought up and working in Bournville, was something of a handicap. her tale of Tony being ex SAS and now a minder smacked somewhat of Arthur Daley and Terry McCann so was in fact or fiction ? This streetwise foxy lady has within a matter of minutes used her natural charms to ensnare me akin to a fly fisherman skilfully landing a rainbow trout with little or no fight. I was somewhat taken aback by her asking for £500 requested in a matter - of - fact manner with not the slightest trace of embarrassment on those finely chiselled features. Although it meant a strain on our resources her flattery and my false manhood pride overrode all other consideration and with a knowing nod of agreement from Bab I immediately offered to write a cheque. She preferred cash as at the moment she'd not had time to open an account. I willingly gave her an advance of £50 and assured her she would have the balance by the following lunchtime. Grasping me by my shoulders she planted a kiss full upon my lips. The loan was never mentioned by either her or Tony as we two never mentioned.
Number 11 had been built over degradable infill in a disused quarry and had developed a ten degree slope. A substantial concrete raft had been recommended to stabilise the property but as the cost was prohibitive and despite it being technically declared unfit for habitation Shirley was more than happy to ignore this fact. Shirley's first priority was having me construct a sloping bottom bar complete with beer pumps and yes it displayed a flamenco doll and bull fighting poster. Kitsch, yes very much so but typical and popular décor in the 60's and 70's
It was pure delight to watch Shirley stooping over our pool table her posterior contour provocatively packaged in her skin tight mini skirt. Here visibility however attract the uninvited attention of one of my school colleagues who would regularly gate crash our parties and overtly try his luck coming on to her from behind in pretence of teaching her how to hold a cue. He was a throw back to the stereotype medallion man and to my delight wa always given short shrift by our guest.
It must have been a month after Shirley's arrival that she'd invited her close friend Marlene from Bournville to visit. we took Shirley, Tony and her friend for a Saturday night out to the Ship Inn at Polgooth. Marlene dragged me on to the dance floor and placed my hands on her bottom. She looked anorexic and has her pelvis gyrated I could feel pure energy flowing through her slender body. Yes it was so erotic lacking any moral decorum and sense of decency which I played up to. Enjoying her short stay I presented her with my box collection of Frankie Laine LPs. for she was a devoted fan of this popular artist. Some weeks later we received in kind a package of Cadburys chocolate products.
I fondly recall as if it was yesterday the phone call on a Sunday evening . It was Shirley asking if I could pop over to examine a faulty beer pump. She greeted me dressed in a see through baby doll top and matching panties. The pump had an air block summarily dealt with I was then invited to view the main bedroom recently refurbished ,indeed she had decorated the bedroom it looked like a boudoir in pink and black. Told me it was frustrating having vigorous sex as the slope caused her partner to fall off the bed . Suggested that we moved the bed around to ascertain if that would improve the situation.
S mother my adulterous feelings I engaged in small talk deliberately ignoring her suggestive proposition before taking leave , still kicking myself for passing up what for me was the opportunity to make love to a very desirable and beautiful woman. The following morning Shirley was chatting to Barbara over a coffee and came right out an told my wife that she'd offered herself for sex and I'd refused. Often wonder if I'd taken her up would she have just dropped it out ? I had the feeling there was no difference in the two outcomes treat as matter of fact.
Shirley was our near neighbour for the following three years and together with Tony became regulars at our social's she always was circled by admiring males, . I'd enjoyed every moment in her company and knowingly was a willing victim of her little money scam, which I deemed of little consequence, a small price to pay for set a price on her favours with everyone she met T he very nature of her' black economy' lifestyle of permanently living on the edge and a loose moral code was, I suspect , secretly envied within our circle of friends - forbidden fruit and all that. She had dared to 'cock a snoop at middle class suburbia with all the hypocrisy and was truly a liberated if somewhat destitute young woman.