Adultery ALISON A TEACHER'S STORY by exbiidelhi2012

[sarit11]

I had been given no instructions on what to wear. Last time, I’d worn stockings and suspenders, but my stocking tops had been soaked with the old man’s semen, so I’d thrown them away. They’d been my only pair. I didn’t think he’d be the type to appreciate tights, so I would have to be bare legged.

I found a dark blue, knee-length, wrap around skirt in my wardrobe and decided to wear that. I also found a loose fitting, cream coloured blouse, which went well with the skirt. The obligatory white knickers and a pair of strappy sandals completed the ensemble. I put on a little make-up and set off for Alan’s flat.
I walked into his living room and Alan and Neil began to whistle appreciatively. Alan started to caress my breasts through my blouse, making my nipples harden. Neil lifted my skirt from behind and began to caress my bottom. “Who’s going to get fucked by a rancid old bastard then?” He laughed. Alan laughed too. Amazingly, I found myself laughing with them.
“Stop it you two! It isn’t funny! Really.”

Nevertheless, we all had a giggle at the old man’s expense. Then Alan said, “You’d better get off then. He’s expecting you.” I swallowed nervously. Then a thought occurred to me.
“What if Adam is there? Oh God! I don’t think I could cope with that. What do I do?”
“Just do as you’re told, and lie back and enjoy it.” Neil laughed. Alan joined in and soon they were roaring with laughter at my discomfort. Irritated, I turned and left the flat. Their laughter still ringing in my ears as I walked along the street towards the old man’s newspaper shop.
I reached the shop to find it closed. Of course, I thought to myself, it’s Sunday. Finding a side door, I rang the bell. I heard movement behind the door, and it opened to reveal the old man. He held the door open for me and motioned for me to come in. As I walked past him I could smell his strong body odour. It was all I could do not to shudder or hold my nose.
“Straight up the stairs.” He motioned.

I started to climb the stairs and he followed, enjoying the view up my skirt as he did so. The place smelled really bad. Old cooking smells mixed with body odour and general dirt. It looked as tough it hadn’t seen new paint in a century. The walls were nicotine brown and the carpets a non-descript colour between red and brown. The light was poor on the stairs. As I reached the top I stood and waited for him to direct me. He slipped past me, his hand running across my bottom. “In here.” I followed.
We went into a living room of sorts. The smell was awful, and it clearly hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. “Living room.” He grunted, and turned and left the room. I was clearly expected to follow him on his ‘guided tour’. The next room was the bedroom. An ancient metal framed double bed stood in the middle of the room, with an old chest of drawers nearby. Discarded clothes lay in piles on the floor.
I stood looking at the mess, feeling disgust rising in me. I was lost in my own thoughts and hadn’t realised he’d left the room until he yelled “Are you coming or not?”

I jumped and followed him, catching up with him in the kitchen. This was reasonably clean, with a modern cooker. Clean work tops and even a washing machine. I was surprised.
“Right, time for you to get to work. I’m going out for a few hours, going to see my son and his family. While I’m away, you clean the place, see? All of it. I want it spotless when I get back, right. You’ll find all the stuff you need in that cupboard there. I want you to do the living room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. Change the bed, wash the sheets and sort out all that washing that needs to be done. Oh, and you’ll find the things for tonight’s tea in the fridge. I’ll be back about six thirty, have food on the table for six forty five or you’ll be punished. Get on with it.”
And with that, he grabbed a coat and left. I was stunned! The old bastard. Not only was he going to have his little fun with me later, but I was expected to clean his dirty, disgusting hovel for him too. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Huffing with indignation, I made my way down stairs to the front door, determined to leave. I was going to go home and tell Alan to forget it.

It’s funny to think now. I’d happily comply with every perverted wish of every man I met, but the old man’s orders for me to do what he clearly saw as ‘woman’s work’ had revived all the old feminist instincts in me!
I stomped down to the front door only to find it locked. The old bastard had locked it behind him, and I was unable to leave. ‘Fine’, I thought, ‘I’ll phone Alan and he can come and get me out’. I went back upstairs to find that there was a lock on the phone. I couldn’t get out, and I couldn’t call for help either. I sat down on the stairs, furious, trying to figure out what to do next.

After about ten minutes or so I had calmed down. I looked at the clock, twelve fifteen. I had over six hours to wait before the old man got back. Resigned to a long wait, I decided to do a bit of tidying round, just to pass the time. I opened windows in the flat to let some clean air in, sorted out some of the filthy clothes which I now saw lay around in every room, and put a load in the washing machine.