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chapter two
A week after our meeting in the Pub, on one of my days off, a Thursday, I drove into the filling station, parked my Car and told my replacement I was leaving it there while I walked into town, I would collect it later.
Outside though, I doubled back, heading toward the Lane where the Freeman's lived, and then toward the house name Jimmy had given me. The lane itself was really an old road leading to a now disused chalk quarry and in fact contained along its mile or so length, only 3 houses, the last which belonged to the Freeman's, deliciously standing in its own large grounds and outbuildings a good third of a mile from the other houses.
Jimmy had studied the arrival of ‘old man Freeman' each morning. It seemed Mrs. Freeman dropped him off just before nine 3 days a week, Tuesday, Thursdays and Fridays, picking him up again around 4pm on each occasion. Jimmy had innocently asked other staff why he did not drive himself. ‘Liquid Lunches' had been the general amused reply. Also the common feeling was that he was too tight to buy his wife a car so she could use his on those days. Jimmy had also established the Freeman's lived alone, their one adult son now living in Canada .
I had no real plan 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, I knew ‘What to do' with Mrs. Freeman, it was ‘How to get' Mrs. Freeman I was still unsure of.
Finally I came upon the name plate on a fence telling me I was at the correct address. My watch told me it was 8.30 am , today was one of the days Mrs. Freeman drove her old man to work
Carefully I crouched behind some thick bushes studying the house itself 30 or so yards at the end of a circular gravel driveway, which was probably around 80 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. From it emerged a short tubby looking middle aged man with a briefcase, this I assumed to be Mr. Freeman, he was soon followed by the vision that was Mrs. Freeman, again wearing a light summer dress to the knees, this time in pink, also the 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, she in the drivers side.
Shrinking back into the bushes, I watched the Car, with Mrs. Freeman at the wheel, slowly coming toward me. 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 8.50. Would Mrs. Freeman come straight back here after dropping off hubby? Somehow the way she had dressed for this time of the morning told me she would go elsewhere first, this being one of the three days she had the Car.
Shrugging to myself I realised I would only achieve my objective by being adventurous.
Certain I was unobserved, I made my way up the gravel drive. Still with no particular plan in mind I walked around to the rear of the large house. To the back, beyond a small fence, was the disused chalk quarry. In the garden were a collection of outbuildings, tool sheds and the like and a garage attached
To the side of the house. The rear of the house itself had one door and some large sash windows, all of which looked closed.
I tried the handle of the door and pushed, as I thought, it was locked. I walked across to the garage, which had its own rear door. This though was open and I walked inside.
I stood inside a large, darkened double garage, my fingers searching for and finally finding a switch, which, flicking it on, proved to be a light switch that now bathed the Garage in fluorescent light.
The garage contained the usual collection of old tools, some golf clubs and a couple of chest freezers. There was though, another door built into the side of the house.
Strangely it had its own letter box flap and this I opened, expecting any second to hear a large viscous dog charge the door. But all was quiet. The opened flap gave me an excellent view of the huge kitchen complete with large oak refectory table and matching units with huge double stove. On the huge table lay a collection of what I later saw were ladies tights, these were of no interest to me and I was disappointed to discover Mrs. Freeman may actually wear such things and they seemed out of place in the otherwise immaculately tidy kitchen.
Now I tried the door handle, to my delight and surprise it was unlocked, allowing me to push the door open and step into the magnificent kitchen.
Still no dog and no sign of any pet's presence.
The kitchen windows gave an excellent view of the empty gravel driveway. I decided, as I was in the house, I would also explore it. I had bought with me, my new digital camera and walking from room to room downstairs I took pics in various positions of each room in turn. 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 these interested me though.
Checking the driveway was still clear I made my way upstairs, looking into and photographing each of the first three bedrooms I entered. These all seemed to be guest rooms, one of them on-suite. Then I came to what must be the main bedroom such were the obvious signs of regular and recent use, this was also on-suite, but, to my surprise contained 2 single beds. Unlike downstairs, all these rooms had old oak beamed ceilings. I took a couple more pics. Each bed was made up, a male dressing gown lay on one.
On the other lay a sheer black silk peignoir, my heart skipped a beat as I imagined Mrs. Freeman's lovely body encased in its luxury. Taking a quick photo of the bed I then moved on to the several chests of drawers in the room. Another quick peek through the window told me all was clear.
The first drawer I opened proved to be a men's sock drawer, I quickly closed it and moved on to a large chest topped with bottles of perfume and makeup.
It was the third drawer I opened. There lay the sexiest lingerie I had ever seen, sets of Bra's thong's garter belts, seamed stockings in every sexy colour imaginable, including the sheer black set she had worn when I first saw her. This one was mine, lovingly I lay it out on the bed just below the peignoir and in the order Mrs. Freeman would wear it, and wear for me. I looked at each size label. Bust cup 38D, Suspender waist size 28, thong size, 10/12. Jeez, Grace Freeman could enter for Miss Universe with those sizes! I quickly took a photo of the laid out lingerie before carefully folding the set then placing the sheer nylon in my pocket. Next, her bedside table drawer, containing, a collection of pills, potions, a book and a diary. Flicking through this it seemed to be an everyday diary ‘Grace Freeman' written on the cover. 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.
Closing the drawer I met with a slight resistance, I pulled the drawer again, all the way out. Feeling underneath to find the cause of the problem, I felt for and
Removed the obstruction, which was, a small but quite thick envelope, obviously, it had been hidden away underneath the drawer.
It was then I found the photos. Within the envelope, were four sheets of computer photo paper folded over twice. To my surprise, on each A4 sheet were printed four photos, giving sixteen in all.
With growing astonishment I looked at them all, at sixteen photos of Mrs. Grace Freeman, naked save for black suspenders and matching stockings, together with another woman. Tall, slim, well tanned, a short haired blonde woman, perhaps in her early thirties, as with Mrs. Freeman she wore just black Stockings and suspenders,
She was slim but very curvy in all the right places, her fully tanned Breasts only slightly smaller then Mrs. Freeman's, but still firm with large nipples, only a tiny bikini line was not suntanned. In short she was a very attractive woman who had looked after her body.
More astonishing though, was that the Blonde and Mrs. Freeman were revealed in varying stages of enjoying each others bodies in the bed where I now sat. One even showing Mrs. Freeman draped over the other woman's thighs, the Blonde's hand raised above Mrs. Freeman's buttocks in an obvious spanking pose, whilst others showed them kissing lips, nipples and Grace Freeman clearly in the act of kissing the Blonde woman's cunt.
By now I had a massive hard-on but managed to remember my own digital camera. This I set to macro mode, made a few adjustments, then, after spreading the sheets of photo paper on the bedside table, copied them all, wishing I knew the identity of my mystery Blonde, but knowing I had found what seemed to be a means of ensnaring Grace Freeman !.
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