Pauline's Diaries

It would be beneficial to read 1969 before Pauline’s diaries.

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Sylvia.

2019

I go up to my bedroom taking a large glass of wine, and I sit and stare at the box on the floor. I peel back the brown tape, and slide my fingers under the flap and flip the top open. I pull off a top layer of crumpled newspapers that has been added to the box as packing. The first diary is sitting there face up. It’s a hardback with a red cover. I just stare at it for some moments, plucking up the courage, and for what reason I don’t know to be honest. With all the crap I’ve been through, a few books shouldn’t put me on edge.

I take a sip of wine, and then a deep breath. I pick up the first diary, reminding myself that I’ve been told I’m like my grandmother, according to Mr Spratt.

I suppose a lot of women keep diaries, mine are on my computer, but these seem more real than a computer screen, and once ink touches the pages, it can’t be deleted as easily. Reading someone else’s words on your computer screen is a little distant in some ways. But here are the very words, which Pauline Cox, my grandmother, wrote by hand, and on the very same pages she touched. I pick up the diary and run my fingers over the red leather. Feeling those little ridges just like my grandmother may have done, makes me a little sad.

I take another sip of the red wine, and another deep breath. Before I start I ask myself, did my grandmother ever want these diaries to be read? I open the cover, and flip the thick blank page over. I turn page after page thinking this is some sort of joke, all the pages are empty.

I gasp, out loud, because there it is, my grandmother’s hand writing from 1968, in that blue ink that comes in a bottle. I close my eyes before I start to read. Hoping my grandmother in her place up in heaven approves of the granddaughter she never met, reading all her dark secrets.

November 14th.

Dear diary I found you cheap in a book store. I have not kept a diary for some years, but now with my husband sick in hospital, I am hoping you will help fill the lonely nights here, whilst I wait for him to return home.

My husband is in hospital recovering from the truck which ran him over at work. He looks so helpless, and the pain he is in makes me cry. It has been nearly three weeks since his accident, and I cry for him constantly. The doctors say each day that passes is a step towards recovery, they may say that but I can’t see it.

I wonder should I go into what happened yesterday. Colin and Lee came round last night, on their way home from the pub. I was still up but about to go to bed. I told them as such, and both drunk, they asked if I needed cuddle. I slammed the door in their giggling faces. Colin opened the letter box and called through that I must be getting desperate by now, with their mate in hospital. They went on their way and I thought to myself, they would no longer be my husband’s friends, if I told him what they had suggested!

November 22nd.

Barry is coming home in a few days. I should feel elated, but I am anxious and worried that I will not be able to cope. We learned yesterday that the company he works for cannot give us any compensation, because they did not have accident insurance. Mr Barlow did give me £25, but that is all he said he can do for us. He has said he will try and keep Barry’s job open, for when he is able to work again.

I do have a job now myself. I started work at the Glory Care Home last week. It does take my mind off worrying about Barry, so I get a little respite from the gloom. My uniform is extremely short, not that I mind, in fact I took it up three inches, do not ask me why because it is a little scary to admit. It barely covers my panties, and to be honest it thrills me walking around knowing I am showing a lot of leg. The men at the home get a flash of my panties now and then. Maybe it is because my sex life has been nonexistent since Barry’s accident, but I have always had a tendency to show a little more off than I should.

November 25th.

This morning Mr Cox, who owns our house, came round with two other men to deliver a bed for my husband, which I had them set up in the small front room. I specifically told him I had to be at work at 10 am, and they turned up at quarter to. One of them kept calling me darling and love. I could see in his eyes he was thinking disgusting thoughts about me. They waited at the bottom of the stairs while I went up to get fresh sheets. I knew they could see up my short work dress, and I had to wait several moments to calm myself before going back down.

Mr Cox offered me a lift to work in their lorry. I climbed aboard with Mr Cox stood right behind me, there was no doubt he could see up my uniform. I sat between him and the driver, while the other man sat in the back. The driver grazed my leg when he changed gear. Once could have been accidental, but 6 times, I think not.

I felt sick with excitement, and the van seemed thick with sexual tension, as I sat there between the driver and Mr Cox. Mr Cox and my shoulder were in constant contact, and further down his hip and thigh rested against mine. I knew it would not take more than a glance to see my panties. I could feel a definite wetness between my legs, and I imagined right there and then that they would drag me over the seat, into the back of the lorry, and then they would find out just how wet I was for themselves!

Mr Cox helped me down from the lorry, he was more of a hindrance than a help, insisting I climbed down backwards. He put his hands on my hips with his fingers spread open, and as I climbed the two steps to the pavement, my uniform, with Mr Cox’s help, ended up round my waist, and exposing my panties to the full. The driver gave me a wolf whistle as I walked hurriedly in the care home, tugging my dress back down on the way.

I had my bottom pinched by one of the residents again today. According to Sandra Smith, it is just one of those things which happen a lot. Well it is no big deal I guess. I do not mind them looking, it excites me, and when the touching started I was surprised by how quickly I got used to it. Sarah says she does not mind either, and she is right, it does relieve the boredom.

December 9th.

Barry just lies in bed with his legs in plaster from his ankles to his hips. His right arm is in plaster too, which all serves to make him moody. It is understandable, and the pain killers although helping with the pain, also depress him. There is nothing for it but to wait for him to heal.

We have had a man come round to the care home with some new drug Ms Appleby has agreed to trial. It is that new, the drug has not been given a name yet. Ms Appleby calls it MB451. Sandra says she saw the man give Ms Appleby some cash. I guess that is how these things work. Sandra told me she thinks Ms Appleby is a lesbian, we giggled about that but I do not know, she is strict but she seems happy with my work.

Oh we had a new man come in today, Mr Taylor, he is far more sprightly than the rest, and I helped him settle in, his daughter, Edith, flicked her fingers at me today, what a nerve that woman has.

December 12th.

Barry and I tried having sex last night. We are still trying for a baby, as we were before his accident. Naturally I was very careful. I straddled Barry and kept my weight off him as much as I could. It lasted barely two minutes before he shouted at me to get off. At that moment I turned round, and thought I saw someone peeping through the gap in the curtains. Seconds later there was a knock on the door. I opened it and Mr Cox stood facing me. He told Barry and me he would be putting the rent up next week. What a time to do it, right on Christmas. Barry and I talked about that and we have agreed not to buy each other Christmas presents this year.

My stepsister has been looking after Barry when I am at work. Gloria and Barry get on well together. Yesterday she threatened to give him a bed bath as a joke. I did not see anything funny in that.

December 17th.

The rent is behind and I have asked for extra shifts, but I fear even that will not help. Still I am enjoying chatting with Mr Taylor, and I baked him a cake and took it to him on my way into town today. I ended up sitting with him for an hour. Barry was not pleased when I returned home after all that time. He even accused me of having someone on the side right in front of Gloria!

Barry and I were good together before his accident, in fact it was that good we were trying for a baby, and still want one hence the feeble attempt of a few days ago.

Okay he does not really make love to me, and sometimes even when I did not want sex he would still insist. It was usually after he came home drunk from the pub, and it was not just once that I have woken up to find him fucking me, with his beer stained breath breathing right in my face. We did argue about things like that, and the way he could not wait for me to get wet. He would spit in his hand, rub it between my legs, and then fuck me, but I guess it could be a lot worse.

I sleep alone at night upstairs, and find myself masturbating nearly every night. My fantasies are quite bizarre; I remember the events of the day, and the patting of my backside, which happens constantly at work. I have even gone to the toilet at work and made myself come before now.

Sandra told me she had opened the top of her uniform exposing her bra covered breasts to a couple of the gentlemen on several occasions. She makes me laugh.

December 20th.

What a thrill, and then let down I had yesterday. I climbed the ladder to decorate the Christmas tree in the common room. Mr Wells handed me the decorations, while two of the other residents held the ladder. Sandra was giggling in the background, which helped me to hide my turned on feelings, as the three of them looked up my uniform. I was up the ladder for 15 minutes or so. Then the thrill turned sour, because when I looked down, Mr Sibley was holding the ladder. He was grinning up at me, and when I stretched to the top to put the star on the top, I felt his face nuzzling up under my dress. He was sniffing at my American tan tights and panties. I blushed scarlet, and then I felt what I am sure was his wet tongue licking around my bum hole. Sandra told him to move away, he did, but the look he gave me, and the feel of his saliva on my backside lingered for quite a while.

He is a disgusting man who hangs around the bottom of the stairs, I do not mind that, but he is a frightfully obese old man. Sandra thought the episode up the Christmas tree funny, but she told me she gave Mr Sibley a right ticking off. Saying he could look, but not touch.

I will admit I came like never before later in bed that night.

December 22nd.

What a thing to happen! Mr Taylor kissed me yesterday! It was quite a kiss too, and on my lips. He pulled away and said sorry. I just stood up and fled back to work. I am still in a dither over his kiss today, and although I just want to ignore it, I cannot.

December 27th.

I gave Barry a Christmas card on Christmas day, and I managed to get a shirt for him from Sandra, who bought it for her ex boyfriend, but they split up the day after. Barry was angry with me for spending the money, but I did get it cheap.

Mum and my stepfather came round on Christmas day. They bought the turkey, which I have made last for a few days, and a Christmas pudding. Mum gave me £20 which I have had to put in the rent tin, and will use to pay off some of the arrears, although I did not tell her. Yes dear diary we have gotten behind with the rent even more than I thought. I dare not tell my husband he will go mad.

Mr Cox came round and wished us a happy New Year. He presented me with a diary. I had mentioned I was writing a diary as I did when I was younger. It stopped when I got married, because a wife has enough to do. It is a hard back like you, but black. He gave Barry a half bottle of whisky too. Mr Cox said he gives the same to each of his residents. I do not wish to sound ungrateful, but one minute he is asking for the rent arrears, and then the next he is giving us gifts!

As I went to the door he stopped and said he would be round for the rent in week. Then he went to say goodbye, and stretched up and kissed my cheek. I just smiled through it, but as soon as he had left I rubbed his wetness off my face.

Sylvia.

I close my grandmother’s diary and look in the box and pick up the diary she mentioned, her diary from 1969. While her last diary 1968, wasn’t started until late in the year, the first entry made in her 1969 diary was on the second of January.

I go downstairs to get another glass of wine. I stand outside the back door smoking a cigarette. I’m wondering if my sexual kinkiness was handed down from my grandmother, it certain missed my mother. I smile at that thought. Mum would go mad if she knew I was turned on by my grandmother’s antics. I can just imagine them arguing up in heaven about who is to blame for my forced marriage to Geoffrey Baker, the man who abducted me, and held me prisoner in his stinking little cottage out in the middle of nowhere for months. I’ll never forget the way he forced himself on me morning, noon, and night, and I’ll never forget the way I became turned on at times!

Geoffrey Baker is locked up now, but the reminders of what I went through are still very visible. My Dolly Parton’s, which was his name for the huge breasts I now have, thanks to his friend, a disgraced surgeon, drugging me and operating on me on the kitchen table.

I don’t know why, but after the story Mr Spratt told me about what my grandmother went through in court, it has got me thinking whether she did somehow get herself put on Mr Taylor’s will.

That Mr Sibley putting his head up her skirt and sniffing at her, obviously disgusted her, but it turned her on. Yes Pauline and me seem to be similar, at least where sex is concerned, but just how similar I’m hoping to find out.

I’m back upstairs now, and one more sip of wine, and I start reading all about 1969.

January 2nd.

Yesterday we had a lovely dinner at the care home to celebrate the New Year. Sandra and I wore Santa hats and tinsel round our necks. The residents had Christmas crackers and wore paper hats. For one day of the year I thought I would be free of getting groped, but the hands seemed to be even more searching than usual. I tried to keep clear of Mr Sibley, but the fat oaf managed to goose me. I swear he has this awful knack of being able to pinpoint my bum hole.

Dinner was rounded off in the afternoon with sherry and chocolates, and then some old records were put on the record player, and everyone sang along to Vera Lynn, a little old for my tastes, but the residents enjoyed it.

Mr Taylor was watching me, but he was still a little distant, until later, and more on that dear diary, soon.

Sandra and I went to Mr Sibley’s room later that night, and again she repeated he could look but not touch. I sat on a chair with my legs crossed. While I fixed him with a disgusted eye, I felt a little turned on, and the three glasses of wine must have helped. He cannot keep his eyes off me, and while he sat there saying sorry he touched me, I did not think he meant it. Sandra called him a dirty old man, as he touched himself under the bed sheets. Again I felt the most incredible urge between my legs, just watching his perverted gaze, as I crossed my legs slowly the other way, giving him a flash of my panties.

Sandra pulled the poppers open on her dress. I swear she has the biggest boobs I have ever seen. She teased him and laughed at him. She had me stand up and turn with my back to Mr Sibley. I bent over so far I could touch my toes. I held that pose for a few moments, until I head Mr Sibley groaning. He said he would give me 10 shillings for my green panties, if I took them off now and gave them to him. I thought that so disgusting I stood up straight and left, but not before I saw Sandra lift her dress to show him her panties.

She caught up with me later and said I should give Mr Sibley my panties, but to charge him a few pounds. Dear diary I could not think of anything more revolting, and I told her no!

I went up to Mr Taylor’s room an hour before my shift ended. It was there he blurted out he was not sorry for kissing me a few weeks ago, and he did not care if I thought he was a silly old fool. I told him I did not, and I kissed his cheek. Something took over, and we were kissing on the lips with quite some passion. I lay on his bed cuddled into him for a while, while he told me he wished he was 50 years younger. I said something about him not worrying about things he could not change, and to just hold me. I left his room feeling a little down, but only because I was leaving him. I feel comfortable and protected in his arms. It is silly I know, but I cannot help it.

When I got home Gloria was drunk on the chair next to husband’s bed. Empty beer bottles were strewn around. I put a blanket over Gloria, as my husband snored lightly. I left a short note to say I was home, and to call out if he needed anything.

I went to bed and fingered myself, thinking of Mr Taylor and me cuddled on the bed. I annoyed myself by doing such a thing, Mr Taylor although passionate, was a gentleman, and I felt even more ashamed of myself, when I came thinking of him and me having sex. His family have not visited him over the holiday period, and I find that such a cruel thing.

Dear diary the nun who taught English at my school would be horrified by my accounts of sexual thoughts, also of my lazy writing. Didn’t and shouldn’t and all words shortened like that appalled her. She would have us rewrite any essays which contained such shortenings. My writing style should I really have one is old too, again I have to thank Sister Vera for that and the countless corrections, which drove us all insane!

January 5th.

Mr Cox took me to one side and said if I did not pay off the arrears he would start proceeding to have us thrown out. He has no sympathy for the situation we are in, he says he has, but I cannot see it. He has even told us that he has another couple who are looking to be housed in the next few weeks.

He said he is coming back the day after next, and I should ask for an advance on my wages.

January 8th.

A most vile thing happened to me yesterday. The day started with a visit from Mr Cox. He reminded us he needed the rent arrears. I fled to the lounge and sat on the couch. Mr Cox followed me and sat next to me. There I was sobbing into tissues and begging for more time, when he patted my knee. He did not take his hand off, and when I glanced at him, he had a look of lust in his eyes.

He told me the young couple were really keen to find a dwelling, and a kiss from me would delay our eviction for another week, while I found the arrears. Without an answer his face moved towards mine, and I found myself allowing him to kiss my lips. I kept my mouth closed tightly, as he forced my head back against the sofa. His lust filled groans made me feel quite sick. I am sure he knew by my screwed up face that I did not want this attention.

His hand slipped up my leg, and only when I pushed my legs tight together did he pull off.

He looked a little angry at first, but he then grinned at me and left.

January 12th.

I have been cuddling with Mr Taylor again, and last night when everything was quiet at the care home, I slipped in under the sheets with him. I was fully clothed, but I allowed him on top of me. The passion is there between us despite our age difference. I have wondered what sex with him would be like, and older gentleman.

I told him I would like to have sex with him. For a long minute he gazed into my eyes under the full moon. He asked me if I really meant that. I nodded. He slipped down the bed and pulled my tights and panties off. I was expecting to see his face again as he fucked me, but instead I felt his face between my legs. I have never had a man do such a thing with his tongue and fingers as Mr Taylor did that night.