Autumn Winds

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Friday morningAutumn has blown in with a vengeance early in the week.  Cold, squally winds and heavy cold showers are yellowing the leaves and ripping them from the trees to be trodden underfoot.My partner, Jen decides that walking to the station is no longer an option.  Normally she dons sneakers with her business suit and walks the fifteen minutes down the country lanes to catch her train.  She always says it’s quality thinking time to prepare for the day or week ahead.It amuses me to see her in her designer suits, sheer black or blue stockings, silk lingerie and a beaten-up pair of Sketchers.I roll out of bed where I’ve been enjoying my first coffee of the day whilst admiring Jen’s sleek naked body as she dresses and grab the car keys to drop her off.Approaching the station is like looking down on an anthill.  Dozens of high-end SUV’s and estate cars swarm the forecourt to drop their occupants off.  In ninety minutes, the place will be deserted again until we repeat the performance in reverse come the evening.With a quick hug and kiss, Jen hops out and runs towards the entrance leaving me to U-turn out of the entrance and head for home.The automatic wipers kick up a notch as I enter the lane towards our cottage.  The rain is blowing horizontally across the road and it’s a struggle to see much beyond my car’s bonnet.Without warning, there is a blur of brown and a Muntjac deer breaks cover and streaks across the lane in front of me.  I brake heavily feeling the anti-lock braking kicking in.  With just a minor twitch on the wet leaves, I maintain direction and breathe deeply to calm my racing heart.The first cottage down the lane is ours and then over the next two miles, there are three more cottages before the lane ends.Just short of home I see an older model Volvo estate pulled part-way up the banking.  I slow to see if the driver needs assistance.  I may be off duty, but in my line of work, you’re never really off the clock.Being in an SUV as I slow alongside the Volvo, I can see the driver, a curly-haired blonde woman of about twenty who seems extremely distressed.I quickly pull in front of her car and prepare to get out and check on her.Now at this point, I should remind everyone that I was just driving my lover to the station.  A ten-minute drive each way with no need to exit my nice warm car.So what, I hear you all asking?Well, it’s this.  I am wearing my beat-up rain-stained Converse and a Berghaus jacket.  Nothing more.I step down from the car and do my best to tug my jacket down over my bare arse.  It takes mere moments for the cold rain to wet my legs and the squally wind to hit my pussy lips.Hurriedly, I walk over and knock on the driver’s window.Close-up, I can see almanbahis that the woman is very agitated.I knock again, more gently this time and make my body language as non-threatening as possible.“Are you okay.  Do you need help?” I ask.The woman first shakes her head, no.Then she nods, yes.I gesture for her to open the window and it slides open by three or four inches.She is younger than I first thought, under twenty and her cheeks are red and tear-stained.“I’m guessing you’ve broken down?” I say.“Yes,” she sobs.“Hop out and we’ll take a look.”Immediately she becomes more agitated in her distress.“I can’t get out of the car,” her weeping getting more profuse.“Shall I hop in with you?”More tears, “No, I’m not decent.”I smile and try for eye contact, “If that’s all, don’t worry, I’m only wearing this jacket and I’m freezing my bare arse out here!”“Really?”I step back, allowing her to get a better view of my bare legs and barely covered pussy.The window opens further, and I can see her visibly calm down.“Hi, I’m Libby,” I offer, “I’m a police officer but I don’t have my warrant card with me.”“I’m Sally, Sally Burgess.”  She goes on to explain that she’s recently married to Brian and that they’ve taken one of the mill cottages further down the lane.“Let’s take a look under the bonnet,” I suggest.I can see Sally brace herself before the door opens and she climbs from the car.She’s actually wearing less than I am.  A very short, white cotton Broderie Anglaise chemise and Perspex wedge mule slippers trimmed in black fur.  The mules look like something from a fifty’s sitcom.The heavy rain instantly saturates the chemise and the now sheer material reveals a pair of full, firm breasts topped with large protruding nipples.I try to avoid staring as she reaches back to pop the bonnet release.  As I’m checking the engine bay, I can hear her almost whispering to herself, “Brian will be so angry if I’ve broken the car, he only used it last night and it was fine.”I hop into the driver’s seat and scan the displays.  “Well, if Brian wants to be angry, he can start with himself.  The tank light is on and you’re out of fuel.”“Really?”“Yep, really, now let’s lock your car and go get warm and dry before I run you into town for some diesel.”ooOOooBarely ten minutes later, we pull up outside my cottage and enter via the mudroom.“Pull off that wet stuff.”  I take charge as I kick off my sneakers and unzip the sodden Berghaus.“My slippers are ruined,” Sally mutters, seeming once again to be on the verge of more tears.“Maybe they will rinse up, but honestly they’re not very practical for country living.”“Brian says a wife should dress in a feminine style and he bought these for me.”“Maybe Brian should try almanbahis yeni giriş wearing them!”  I was half-joking but starting to have doubts about Brian.“He chooses all my clothes.”Taking a now naked Sally by the hand I started up the stairs towards the bathroom.Arriving on the landing, Sally rocked to a halt.“Who’s that in the picture with you?” she stuttered.On the landing is a large framed print of Jen and me, naked and entwined, on a grand Victorian loveseat.“That’s my partner, Jenifer.”“You’re lesbians?”“Yes.”“Brian says it’s a sin and that you’ll burn in hell.”“Maybe Brian is an ignorant bigot,” a statement that was out of my mouth before I could help myself.“I’m sorry, I never meant to offend you.  I will leave now.”  Sally backs slowly towards the stairs.Quickly I grab her hand and lead her to the bathroom.“No, you need help, and this is just the place for it.”  I speak firmly, and Sally responds.  It’s obvious that she is used to being told what to do.Our cottage dates to the 1850s and needed some renovation when we moved in.  The first big job was to gut the ancient bathroom and to convert it to a sleek modern wet room.Quickly I usher Sally inside and turn on the water, instantly filling the room with hot steam.I move to my normal shower head and indicate to Sally that she should use the side favoured by Jen.“Shampoo, body wash, conditioner, help yourself.”  I start to lather my hair.“These smell and feel so lovely.  At home, I must use dish soap.  Brian says anything else is vanity and a sin.”I am now certain that Brian is an arsehole of the first degree, but I bite my tongue for the time being.When we are both rinsed, I shut the water off and grab a couple of large fluffy bath sheets.As Sally finishes drying herself, I grab a jar of L’Occitane body cream and before she can object, begin smoothing a handful into her obviously dry skin.She flinches as my hands pass over a delightfully taut pair of buttocks and on closer examination, I can see dull, fading bruises.“This must have hurt did you take a fall”“Brian says a woman needs discipline to know her place in the world.”“So he beats you?”“Only if I sin or get things wrong.  I creased his shirts wrongly and he said this would help me to learn.”“Do your parents know how he treats you?”“My dad arranged the marriage.  He’s a pastor in our church and Brian is one of the deacons.  I’ve always been punished, as have my sisters and mum if they transgress.”I can hear the blood roaring in my ears as I struggle to damp down my anger.  I need to remain calm if I’m to help young Sally and I won’t do that by scaring her off.Again, I take her hand and lead her into our bedroom where I pull out some joggers of Jens and almanbahis giriş a tee of mine along with some thick knitted slouch socks.Once Sally is dressed, I pick up a brush and smooth out her curly locks.“Libby, can I ask you something?”“Of course,” I reply.“Why don’t you have hair around your loins.”“Oh, well, I have it removed.  Jen and I both keep smooth.  We think it feels nicer when we make love.”“Does it hurt?”“Which, the waxing or the lovemaking?”  I’m amazed by the naivety of the young woman before me.“The waxing, I know the other hurts.”“Honey, the waxing stings a little but you get used to it but making love should be pleasurable, not painful.”“Brian says I must take his staff when and where he says and that only a whore enjoys sex.”“What!”“He says that my reward is giving him pleasure.”“Oh Sally, I’m sorry to say this but your Brian is a complete fucking idiot.  Let’s go and have some coffee and a chat.”ooOOooFor the next couple of hours, I sit around the open fire slowly getting Sally to reveal more of her life to me, the strange male-dominated church that she was born into and the abusive nature of her husband who sees her as nothing more than a servant to his needs.It becomes obvious that she is isolated in their remote cottage.  Brian allows her no money, no phone and habitually keeps the car lightly fuelled to prevent her travelling too far afield.Should Sally transgress any of his many rules she can expect to be punished by anything from having food withheld, being bound in a darkened room to being beaten with a belt.By lunchtime, I have heard enough.  I call Jen and ask if she can make her way home early, and an hour later I collect her from the train station and pick up a five-litre can of diesel.I drive the Volvo to Sally’s house and leave it in the driveway along with a handwritten note on the kitchen table that informs Brian that Sally has left him.  The signature is barely legible due to the shaking of her hand as she signed it.In the evening we sit with Sally and coax her through the panic attacks that followed leaving the note.  I explain what the police could do to help, and Jen gives her a lawyer’s insight.  Gradually, as the evening progresses, Sally calms down.Eventually, it’s time for bed and we lead her upstairs.  The first dilemma is whether to make up the spare room for her or take her into our bed, not to exploit her obvious vulnerability, but to keep her calm and reassured.  Unable to decide we put the choice to Sally.She choses the spare room. We pull out fresh sheets and make up the bed.  Jen shows Sally where everything is, and we leave her to settle in.Jen and I sit up chatting a while and plan what we can do for Sally, and indeed how involved we want to get in what is obviously a complex and unpleasant situation.I am all for doing everything we can, and my darling agrees without hesitation.I roll across the bed and gently kiss Jen’s full lips, “I love you so much.”

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