Paulines Diaries Ch 03

We walk up to the iron gates and I put the key in the lock. Before I can turn it the gates start to swing open. Julie and I stare at each other. She raises her eyebrows and pulls my arm stopping me from going forward.

"What?"

"Really, are you going to go in there? The gates just opened for us. Sylvie, don't you find that bloody creepy."

"I told you we're expected."

"Even so you've got no sense of danger, you just blunder in and end up, well, I don't know what. Look at you and that pervert Baker, and will you please get your tits done, you're not even wearing a bra. Every man we passed today just leered at your bouncing bombs, one man even walked into a lamppost."

I giggle, "Yeah, his wife told him it served him right for ogling."

"It's not funny Sylvia, and neither was blowing him a kiss. She called you a tart...hey wait for me."

I'm halfway up the twisting driver and wishing I'd never brought my sister already. We couldn't see the house from the road just the roof top. A high wall keeps it hidden from view, with trees and bushes helping to obscure it too. We walk up the six steps to a large front door painted in a deep red. It swings open, and before us is stood a huge guy in his early 50's just staring at us, well me.

"Hello you must be Sylvia, I was told you look a lot like Pauline, and you do. Please come in, I'm Samuel."

Fuck me granny had a thing for black guys!

He's wearing an army green vest, and already Julie has nudged me for staring at his big strong arms. We follow him into the hall. A wide sweeping staircase is to the left, and a chandelier about 6 feet wide hangs down from the high ceiling. There are several nude statues of men and women, and one in particular catches my eye.

"Look at the size of that dick," I whisper to my sister.

Julie nudges me and Samuel has a little grin on his cute black face.

"Your grandmother commissioned it," he says seeing what has caught my attention.

I start going on about it being a work of art, but a little out of scale. My sister hasn't stopped nudging me, and when I finally look up to the face of the statue. I chuckle.

"God it looks a bit like a younger version of ...you," my words tail off as I realise all too late, it is Samuel.

He smiles, "I was 21 when I modelled for that in the 80's, a year after I met Pauline."

Straightway I'm thinking of the 16 or so inches, which would seem to be around the size of his cock. He goes off to answer a phone, and already my sister is hissing in my ear.

"I don't believe you, you stared between his leg the minute he said it was him, can't you get your bloody mind off dong for one moment!"

Dong is my sister's word for cock.

"Oh and you didn't look?" I ask with a grin.

He comes back and shows us around. We visit 8 bedrooms kitted out with various sex devices, and all manner of kinky things, ranging from large baby cots, to a room containing masks, suits of all colours, and made of leather, and rubber. Back downstairs he takes us into a study type room.

"This was your grandmother's office."

I'm staring at a huge frame on the wall containing a blue uniform.

"Is that what I think it is?"

He stands next to me looking up at it, and I can smell a faint whiff of sweat, which has my pussy aching a little. His arm is against mine and I don't move.

"It was before my time, but yes that is the same uniform she wore at the care home. Pauline, not only ran this place, but she took an active role with a select few of the clients. She wore that for a judge, and I believe a gross fat man. She once told me she would stand on a chair as he lay tied to a bed. He would look up her uniform, and she would tease him verbally, and rub her foot over his face."

My eyes are still drawn to the uniform, but I'm hearing every word. Would my grandmother really let Mr Sibley look up her uniform, after what happened to her in 1969?

"The man I'm told, would ejaculate without being touched, and she would leave him tied to the bed for an hour afterwards. One day something went wrong a third party was in the room, and your grandmother was held down while Mr..."

"Sibley, was his name Sibley?" I ask.

"Yes, I guess you know of the court case? I heard snippets but it happened years before I met Pauline. She told me she put the uniform in the frame the day after it happened. She would never wear it again, and used it as a reminder to never let her guard down again. I believe what happened lasted for nearly a couple of hours."

My sister sniffs behind us and says, "You'll have to excuse Sylvia, she's into weird stuff like that. Why are there no papers in the drawers?"

We turn round and my sister is opening all the drawers to the desk.

"Everything was taken by her solicitor, Mr Spratt after she died. He took it into the garden and burned everything. I helped him, he was most insistent everything to do with the business was destroyed. He boxed up her diaries and took them with him. He spent two days here. He even had me go in the loft and the cellar, to find every scrap of paper we could find to put on the fire."

"Did he lover her then or something?" my sister asks.

"Yes I think he did from afar. He had a wife and a couple of kids, but as far as I know he never had sex with Pauline."

Samuel takes us down to the cellar, or dungeon more like.

"Mr Cox spent a lot of time down here. The three of us would come down here together, he would watch me with your grandmother, and then spank and whip her. The more she teased him about me, the more he punished her."

"God that's awful."

I roll my eyes at my sister, "You'll have to excuse my sister. Julie is a little old fashioned."

He smiles at Julie who rolls her eyes at me.

"She loved the punishment as much as the sex. Sometimes a judge would be here and he would join in the punishment. Believe me I didn't like it that much, but they never used much more than a belt or whip."

"So all these weird things on the wall, they were just for show?" Julie asks.

"No other people used them."

I watch Julie's hand recoil for a large wooden phallic shaped thing.

"I've seen enough, are you coming?"

"Not yet, I'd like to see the garden."

"Okay, you'll have to get a taxi home. We need to talk about selling this place."

Samuel takes me round the garden, and to a wood adjoined to the land by a green wooden gate in the wall. A rusty chain with rusty manacles hangs high from a tree branch. I ask Samuel about them, he says he doesn't know about it, but it was never taken down.

We stroll around talking, and I slip my arm through his because of the uneven ground, well that's my excuse. We go back to the house for a drink. I tell him, I can't really see why we should keep the place. He says about returning the house to its previous use, which does get me thinking. Mr Spratt has already told me we should sell, as the money to keep it up has just about run out.

"I should be going I guess."

"It's your house, why don't you stay the night?"

I turn and lean against the table, smiling to myself I ask, "I could stay for dinner. I'd like dinner with you, and we could chat more about my grandmother. I'm not sure about staying the night though. I get a little scared sleeping on my own in a strange bed."

I feel him close behind me.

"It gets quite cold in this big old house sometimes. I could find you some extra blankets, or?"

He turns me round to face him. I lean back against the kitchen table. He moves close to me and lifts my head. I'm staring up into deep brown eyes, and hoping he'll go further.

"Would you like me to stop?"

I smile, and then shake my head.

His hand goes down my neck and onto my left breast. He bends his head and softly kisses my cheek. I'm smiling with my eyes shut, and savouring the feel of his thick lips, which tickle down my cheek, and onto my neck.

I can feel him gathering up my skirt with his fingers. He does it slowly as his lips dance over my neck. I tip my head to one side giving him more skin to kiss.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

I slide my hands up his shoulders, nice and slow, feeling the rise of his muscles.

"I don't want you to think I'm easy, but yes I'm sure."

He stops kissing me and we smile at each other. My skirt is up on my belly and a single finger circles my pussy. I shudder and spread my legs a little.

I've started fumbling with his trousers, not wanting to waste another second. I could have let him make love to me, but I want to feel what my grandmother felt, and no, I'm not ashamed of it.

I drop to knees and pull his trousers down. A massive black cock springs up and hits me in the face. I can't get my mouth over it quickly enough, hell I can hardily get it in my mouth, but I do, much to my joy. He tastes a little sweaty, but I suck and savour it, and then pull my lips off making a plopping sound. I rub his cock all over my face, and for a brief moment I stop. Did my grandmother do this very thing too? He is smiling down on me so I know I'm doing alright.

I'm like my grandmother, so everyone tells me, perhaps Samuel is stood there looking down and thinking I'm Pauline, back from the dead, back on his cock like he may well have dreamt. I stop and look up at him. Despite my longing for the black monster between his legs, I have to ask.

"Are you sure you want to fuck Pauline's granddaughter?"

He smiles and picks me up laying me across the big heavy kitchen table. I cry out as he pulls my sodden panties off with his teeth. I take a breath as he moves up.

"Don't worry I'll be gentle," he says.

"Don't you dare," I whisper back.

I smile and gasp as his cock slides slowly in me, inch, after inch, after inch. I'm crying out, and swearing. His cock is never ending it would seem, and I'm already full to bursting. I can't feel his legs on me, nor his heavy balls yet. I wriggle feeling the solidness between my legs. It is like I'm being lowered onto a fence post, slipping down and down, and expecting the top of the post to end up in my mouth. Finally when I don't think I can take anymore, there they are, his huge balls resting on my ass.

He pulls out a bit then back deep in me. Already I'm coming and thinking how lucky my grandmother must have felt. Only I could hope that my grandmother is up there looking down, and feeling proud that her granddaughter is taking her lover's cock, like she used to do.

Samuel carries on fucking me slowly, from one orgasm to the next, until I'm coming constantly. He is sweating more and even that is becoming intoxicating. My fingers are up under his army green vest, and my nails are clawing down his back. My whole body is in motion with his, my legs are spread wide, and my feet are on his calf muscles.

He comes slowly and with deep thrusts. He's calling me babe in my ear, and I'm wondering if that was what he called Pauline. I encourage him to fill me up. He pants and slowly pulls out and I can't feel my pussy returning to normal. I push myself up on my elbows, and we stare at each other, both panting. For a moment there is nothing, and I wonder how he got a condom on, or even one to fit. Then I feel it gushing, like a dam bursting. I look down and squeal as a river flushes out of me. I touch my clit and I come yet again.

I curl my finger under the drop hanging from his cock, and slip it in my mouth and we grin as I suck it.

"So do you want to stay here tonight?"

I smile at him, and say, "Stupid question."

After a night of having the biggest cock I've ever seen, I can barely get my legs closed. I take a shower and he is there behind me, his huge cock resting up my back. I turn round and soap it, from his balls to the tip. He's rock hard, and wants to fuck me again, but I don't let him. I carry on running my hands through the white foam of the soap, from his balls to the tip of his cock, over and over again.

I cling to Samuel's neck and lower myself on his cock, which feels like an arm!

His fingers dig in my ass, as he lifts on and off his cock, as the water cascades over our bodies. I come within a few minutes, and he carries me out of the shower with me still impaled on his black cock. He lowers me back on the bed and starts fucking me. There is little I can do but hang on, and have yet another orgasm.

Finally he pulls out and comes on my belly, with thick white strands that almost burn through my skin.

He cleans me like I'm some sort of princess. Then he takes me by the hand and leads me to another bedroom, which is more like a huge walk in closet.

For the next hour I stroll round the room, touching all these clothes that used to be my grandmother's. I recognise some of them from descriptions in my grandmother's diary. I have a few tears and a few smiles, as I run my fingers over all the sexy clothes. The different fabrics and bright colours, which still look in fairly good condition, considering they are from the late 60's, the 70's, and beyond. Everything I touch is like a magnet to me, did my grandmother feel the same when she touched them.

Drawers and drawers of bras, panties, and old fashioned stockings, and tights make my head spin. Jewellery box after jewellery box, amaze me with contents to numerous to count. Head bands, scarves, and belts in all colours and styles hang from hangers, and then the shoes. Pairs upon pairs, of shoes and boots, all in such a variety of styles I'm lost for words. It's a dream room with dreamy garments, and such a rich history of clothing through the years. I thought I had a lot of clothes and shoes, but my grandmother was the queen of clothes.

The breakfast that Samuel had made turns into lunch, because of the time I spent in Pauline's clothes room. My eyes ached with all the things I have seen. I want to try everything on, and I want to have every last item, down to the smallest earring, and black elastic hair band with little black balls attached. Fuck my sister I saw it first, this is mine, my grandmother and I were alike, and her clothes wouldn't suit Julie like they would suit me.

I sit on the floor and cry, this time I'm crying for the grandmother I never knew, and what she went through.

My mobile phone brings be back to this century, and William Lovett my intended wants to know where I am. I want to tell him everything, but a part of me wants to just stay quiet about it all. I don't know why, but a thought flashes through my mind, I shake my head and bring it back. Maybe William knew of my grandmother. He would have been a kid back then, but he might know a little of what went on.

I tell Samuel I want a few things of my grandmother's to take back with me. He says its fine, and hands me an old colour photo of the time. There she is, my grandmother, in her uniform, with long legs and a red hair band in her jet black hair. Samuel tells me as best as he can remember, she told him it was taken in 1969. She is stood with a woman around her age, and I know without being told it is Sandra Smith. Huge breasts and a lot of cleavage are on show, the pair of them grin at the camera, arms round each other, and posing in front of a sign which reads, "The Glory Care Home."

"I knew I had it somewhere, do you see how much you are a like?"

I nod, and run my fingers over my grandmother's face, and my tears start again. I take a photo of the picture on my phone, and expand it so her face fills my screen. It's a little blurred but I can see what I want to.

I go back to the huge room with the clothes in and sit at a dressing table. I copy my grandmother's eye makeup with my own, and dig around in the drawers until I find a lipstick that belonged to my grandmother. It's a slightly different shade to the one she's wearing in the photo, but I apply it anyway.

Something orange is dropped in front of me.

"Yes they are the ones Pauline wore and used on Mr Taylor the night he died. Pauline told me they kept coming back to her."

Trembling fingers pick up the shiny orange silky panties, and I gaze at them for a long moment.

"Well...try them on," Samuel says with a grin.

I'm still holding them when he comes back with a pack of American tan tights. The pack is white, and says "VG budget tights" across the top. The pack is unopened and has a price tag of 59 pence in the corner, hand written, on a red star. I assume the price is in modern money, which took over from pounds, shillings, and pence, sometime in the 70's.

Samuel opens a few drawers and says, "I think this is the one she had on in the photo."

A red wide head band is dropped in front of me.

"I assume you want me to get the dress out of the frame?"

I nod at Samuel, he smiles and goes off. The only thing I couldn't find to fit was a pair of shoes, so I'm left with my own black stilettos.

20 minutes later I slip on the dress, which Samuel has freshened up in a tumble dryer, with a scented spray. I feel like I'm wearing something far more precious than a 1960's work dress. I cuddle Samuel.

He had a tear in his eye when he saw me dressed in all my grandmother's clothes, and copied makeup.

The uniform hugs my huge tits, and to cover them the hem has ridden up. While my grandmother was slightly taller than me, I can see in the full length mirror a glimpse of orange under the darker part of the tights. I take a look back at the room just before I leave, still wearing my grandmother's uniform.

"She must have spent a fortune on all those clothes."

"Yes but they were all hand made, by a guy called Tom."

"Tom?"

"Yes, he worked for the solicitor, Harrington-Brown, before Pauline took him on as her dressmaker a year after the trial. He made all the outfits for the girls who worked in the brothel too."

The taxi driver takes a double take as I walk towards him. He opens the door for me, and watches me slip a long leg into his car. I would adjust the dress but it isn't long enough to cover my grandmother's orange panties. Still the taxi driver doesn't mind.

"Are you going to a fancy dress party then love?"

I smile and it does look a little like that.

I phone William to let him know I'm home, I tell him to come round as I have a surprise for him. I tell him I've gone all 1969! He can't make it for a couple of hours, but I don't mind, because I can flick through my grandmother's diaries until then, still dressed in her clothes.

1970 and 1971 contain more sexual escapes of grandmother.

Pauline, and Mr Cox's baby, my mum, was born in January 1970. There are a simple few lines in her diary.

January 25th.

Five days ago Helen came into the world. She weighed 7 pounds and 4 ounces. For the first time I have seen my husband emotional, in I suppose a good way. Dear diary I am not forgetting how Helen was conceived, under the duress of blackmail, but maybe there is a human being somewhere in Mr Cox. He had tears of joy, and he smiled at me, for once without lust in his eyes. I cannot believe I instructed him on changing her nappy, and he was so tender, and with a feather light touch for our child, it moved me. Maybe because my body has gone through so much with giving birth, my head is a little scrambled, because I held my baby, with Mr Cox sat with his arm round me, and we both smiled as the thin man with the ginger hair, who works for my husband, took a few photographs.

Pauline's 1972 diary contains a disturbing few words, which are scrawled so hard on the page it has ripped through several of the next pages.

October 23rd.

I WANT TO DIE!!

Forgive me dear diary, but two days ago. I was held captive and used as a play thing, for Mr Sibley, Ms Taylor, and an evil little shit, who it turns out, is her son!

Mr Sibley has been coming to my establishment for awhile, since he won the pools in fact. He pays top money, to have my nylon clad foot rubbed over his face, as he looks up my old care home uniform. My husband ties him to the bed first. He is helpless dear diary, and I have never known a creature that gets off on such vile treatment. Even when I stand on his erection he likes it. I guess I am getting my own back for what he did to me in the care home, by having him pay £500 for every session, four times more than anyone else pays for sex here.