No graphic sex, no wives hung out to dry and only one person killed.
Sorry, but you've been warned.
Please enjoy.
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The great door to the old Victorian building that housed the prison clanged shut!
Imposing though the building undoubtedly was, I, like many before me, preyed silently that I'd never have to see the damn thing again.
Twelve months!
A year with my life on hold, waiting for this day, waiting to see whether I still really had a family.
Waiting to see whether the beautiful young woman who now stood there nervously before me, could forgive me for what I'd done, and whether once we were back in the real world, I could return the favour.
It could have been worse; much worse really, so I couldn't complain.
A two year sentence, reduced for good behaviour, and now the nightmare was over. At least that part of it was over, and now to see if another part was beginning.
I'd killed a man you see.
Killed him in cold blood, though even now, I couldn't honestly bring myself to regret it.
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"Is this where I get my ticket?" This vision of loveliness asked me as I stood guard at the door to the local village dance.
"You could ......" I started to say before cutting myself off abruptly. A girl like that probably didn't want to know that she could have my ticket anytime she wanted.
"Yes," I carried on. "Two pounds please."
Ok ---- Not quite so catchy as what I'd intended, but it did draw a smile from the sweet young thing.
"Are they any good this group?" she asked, all bright eyed and beautiful.
"Terrible," I replied. "But the beer is good and the company friendly."
"How friendly?"
"See me in the bar in twenty minutes and find out," I shot back.
"I just might do that," the pretty little dark haired beauty smiled back at me, as she took the ticket from me and slid her slim shapely body past me into the church hall where the music was blaring out, that sexy little swing of her hips, hopefully, perhaps just maybe for my benefit.
Bloody hell!
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Some time later, my turn at the door over, I found myself at the bar chewing the cud with a group of pals, and informing one another what we might do with every pretty girl who passed by.
As if!
"Any of you see the pretty little dark haired girl who turned up a while ago?" I asked casually, taking a swig from my pint. "Who is she?"
"No idea who you mean, Dave" replied Fred, and the other two shook their heads in agreement.
"The one with the legs," I added tentatively.
"Oh her," butted in Alf with a grin, the others doing likewise.
"That'd be Eve Meadows," joined in Joe.
"Eve Meadows," I repeated. "Never heard of her."
"You wouldn't have Dave," Joe threw in. "She got religion a few years before you moved down this way."
"We've all been to Church from time to time Joe," I reasoned with him.
"Yer Dave," he came back. "But her, she went there for God she did, not to meet up with boys."
Mmmmmm!
How odd! We all nodded at one another, all more or less in agreement.
"She wasn't wearing the sort of skirt that most girls would wear to church," I pointed out, still eager to find out a little more about her, though the church bit didn't exactly excite me overly.
"Most girls that go to church don't have legs like hers," sniggered Alf, pulling a face.
"Most women don't have legs like Eve, full stop," laughed out Fred, and we all joined his laughter ---- you know ---- the way real men do.
"Was a bit short wasn't it?" carried on Alf after the laughter died down.
"Bloody short," threw in Joe, nodding his head in reflection.
"Never seen her in a skirt that short before," commented Fred, who seemed to have known her for the longest.
"Nice pair of pins though," I threw into the mix.
"Yes," they all agreed. Eve Meadows had a pretty fantastic pair of pins, and was showing an incredibly high percentage of them off that night, between her little pelmet of a skirt and her dainty high heels.
"Not much in the boob department though," mentioned Alf. Well he would wouldn't he ---- He never dated any girl with less than a huge handful and a bit left over.
"With legs like that a girl wouldn't need big tits," I pointed out, and it was no surprise that not one of them deigned to argue.
"D'you think it really was her that did that streak?" Fred asked after a few minutes, peeking my interest.
"What streak?" I demanded, maybe a little too enthusiastically.
"At the rugby club a few years back," reminisced Fred. "We'd just beaten Kettering and won the league."
"And she did a streak after the match?" I gasped out.
"If it was her," pointed out Alf.
"Naked?"
"Except for trainers and a mask," confirmed Fred. "Absolutely starkers."
"Doesn't sound like the sort of thing a church going girl would do."
"That was before she got so involved in the church," piped up Joe as if that explained it all.
"But why did you think it was her?" I followed up with. "If she had a mask on."
"The legs Dave," Fred informed me as if I was a bit dense. "She would still have been a school girl back then, and was a bit on the skinny side, but she always had great legs."
No tits though," Alf put his penneth in. "Never did have." But everyone ignored him.
"But she never admitted it then?" I probed; more than turned on by the thought of a girl brave enough to do something like that. Forgetting in the heat of the moment that what my first wife ended up getting up to after doing something not dissimilar had ultimately led to our divorce.
That was different though, as Eve hadn't done it at her office Christmas party, and hadn't ran into the stationary store, and let three of her male colleagues catch her.
"No," went on Joe. "Never admitted it, but never denied it."
"When she finished school, she left the this area and ended up in Africa somewhere, and we never saw much more of her after that."
"What a waste," murmured Fred, but before I could press them further, two of their wives turned up and the subject of the lovely Eve was promptly dropped from our conversation.
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"You're right," a musical voice beside me at the bar said to me some half an hour later, as I waited to be served. "The band was terrible."
Oh Hi," I responded, a bit lost for words for once in my life.
"Can you get me a coke please?" she asked me, offering me some money.
How couldn't I? ---- And of course I didn't take her money.
Twenty minutes later we left the village hall, hand in hand, and if my pals were still waiting for the round of drinks I'd been sent for, then they'd be a long time waiting, wouldn't they?
I walked her home and we talked all the way. I discovered she was in her late twenties, about two years younger than me.
That seemed just about right to me, and the simple kiss that she bestowed upon me when I left her at her door stayed imprinted on my memory for hours afterwards.
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The very next night, not being one to let the grass grow under my feet, I picked Eve up and whisked her away to a swish restaurant. When she'd opened the door she fairly took my breath away. Some women know what their best features are and I guess Eve was one of them; my eyes being treated to her slim body encased in a tight dark crepe dress, that seemed to mould itself around those delightful little breasts of hers, and came to an abrupt stop so high up her shapely thighs that I couldn't hide my reaction.
"It's new," Eve told me nervously. "Do you think it's too short?"
"It's fantastic," I gasped in admiration.
"Maybe," she giggled. "But is it too short?"
"Give me a twirl," I instructed my date, and she obliged, spinning around slowly on her three-inch high heels.
By Golly she was gorgeous, and it was difficult to tear my eyes away from those legs to take in how her long brown hair framed her cute face and tumbled down to her shoulders.
Mine --- all mine for the evening at least ------ Bloody unbelievable.
"When you've put your tongue away Dave," she smiled at me. "Is the dress too short or not?"
