So I received the following in my in box and couldn't not try and write this story. I hope Linda likes it and it does her justice.
"Hi, I am Linda and love your writing. . I have an image of a society woman but really I crave being humiliated in all stages of dress and undress. Could you do a story of my humiliation and degradation? If you want more information you can e-mail me at *************. I love sexy lingerie and dream of being taken advantage of in my undies. Hope to hear from you. Linda"
*
When her husband follows his routine for the last 30 years and heads off to work, you would have thought his wife Linda would get down to doing the normal things that wives of that age get up to, cooking, ironing, gardening, or shopping being the prime thoughts. But with Linda you'd be wrong. The graceful fifty year old gets down to some spying on her neighbours, all, without exception much younger housewives. What they're doing, what they're wearing, who visits their houses, what they could be up to, oh how her mind races at the possibilities and the gleeful thought of passing this information and informed guesses onto her friends.
"That young student was inside with Teri next door for at least half an hour."
"You should have seen the outfit Eva from across the road was wearing – and you should have seen the car that picked her up!"
"That tramp Nicolette had three 'salesmen' in to see her this afternoon. The nerve! And her husband away in the army as well!"
"That Susan's daughter, you should have seen her hanging about with all those young boys, it would never happen in my age."
Being nosy and spreading gossip was almost a full time profession for this sad and lonely woman. She never seemed to consider that eventually some of the stuff she was spreading would reach the ears of those she gossiped about.
*
Monday morning, a quarter past nine and her husband Michael was long gone to the city for his work. Sitting in her expensive, silk dressing gown at the breakfast table (in the sun lit porch that over looked her neighbours yards), her ankles poking out the bottom she was disturbed by the ringing of the front door bell. Putting down her cup of coffee Linda strolled to her front door wonder who this could be. She opened the door to a fine specimen of manhood. A young man, in his early twenties, wearing cut off jeans and an open checked shirt, showing off his perfect tan and sporting long, light brown hair he smiled a brilliant smile at Linda.
"Good morning Miss Linda? I am Jose and it was my father who did your gardens. I am afraid he has been taken unwell and I am to take over his duties. I trust that is alright? There is no problem?"
For a moment Linda was taken aback, this was most unexpected, the old man used to wander round her garden and tidy it up, he knew what he was doing with flowers and she used to laugh at the other pathetic wife's in the street who hired their staff based solely on their good looks while hers actually did the job he was hired for.
"Well I suppose, the grass does need done most urgently. If you need me I'll be it the kitchen out back", and with that the front door was closed and Linda retreated without even asking about the boys father. Not that there actually was much wrong with him.
Later that day, with Linda dressed and sat once again in her favourite spying post to watch the others front doors she was disappointed by the lack of anything happening and couldn't help but be distracted by the young stud toiling in her garden. His shirt was off now and how tanned and muscular he was as he sweated and moved gracefully through the garden. Linda found her thoughts wandering to think what it would be like to be with a young man like that again. She had been quite a flirt in her younger days before being overtaken by marriage and becoming hardbitten and cynical to love and sex in equal measures. She eventually shook herself from these thoughts, they were weak and stupid and besides he would never be interested in an old woman like her, would he?
By early afternoon and after returning from a shopping trip Jose was tidying away his tools and the refuse from his work when Linda stepped from her door to speak with him. To anyone watching (and there was somebody) this was unusual, the high and mighty Linda rarely deigned to speak to the help unless she could not avoid it. And her words and body language spoke volumes, dressed in a red shirt and matching knee length shorts as she asked how his day had gone and when he would return she kept a tight eye contact with him and her hands touched him several times. It was the first signs of her being smitten
Over the next few weeks, Jose was a regular at the house, much more so than his father, and Linda made sure there were plenty of tasks for him to do, and with them plenty of opportunity for her to watch and leer at him. It had completely bypassed her that she was behaving almost like the other, younger women of this leafy suburban lane that she so looked down on. But she was still a bit reticent to take her growing infatuation with this young man any further and it would come to him to force the issue somewhat.
That afternoon Linda had a meeting with one of the charity committees she was on (not that she ever did any actual work on it) and after lunch was upstairs getting changed into posher clothes, she didn't want any of the others gossiping about how she looked, she hated that! Watching Jose from her upstairs bedroom window as she stood in only a black bra and panties mid-dressing she allowed her hands to roam over her body as she watched the young hunk hard at work clipping one of their many hedgerows She opened her underwear drawer and there they were, her newest, sexiest pair of black, seamed stockings. Yes, she thought these would go well with the knee length black skirt she would wear and as she opened them up and slowly rolled them up her legs, luxuriating in the feel of them against her silky smooth legs she was lost in the moment, a silent sigh escaping from her lips.