Mrs. Prescott's Window

Gracie didn't know whether she would have kept to that vow if the doorbell hadn't rung, but around noon when the chime tolled and she looked out to see who it was, her heart skipped a little when she saw a tall blonde haired young man there.

Her hand was shaking as she opened the door timidly, only to find it was a delivery guy with a package for her. A vase with a dozen long-stem roses in it.

"Gracie Prescott?" the kid asked, and after she nodded he handed her the vase and left right away.

"Who..." she wanted to ask but he was running back to his van, and after he was gone she brought the vase to the kitchen table.

"A card," she whispered as she took it from the bouquet, and hoping there was a clue to the identity of her secret admirer she ripped it open.

"Thanks for the time of my life. Love from Tom the Peeper," the card read in the same printing that had been on the box, and when she pressed the button on the musical greeting card the song from Dirty Dancing began.

"You're crying over this?" Gracie asked herself as tears ran down her cheeks, stunned at herself because she didn't even like the movie and the guy that sent this to her was so strange that none of this made sense.

So Grace was not back in her bedroom at 9 that night, or even at 8:30. Saturday night she was sitting on the edge of her bed at 8, naked with the light on and waiting for the phone to ring. She didn't have to wait long.

***

"Good evening Gracie," Tom the Peeper said when the older woman hit the speaker button.

"Hello Tom. I didn't know that you were a rich man," Gracie's first words were.

"I'm not Gracie. Why would you think so?"

"The roses."

"Oh. No, that's my entertainment budget for the next month or so," Tom told her.

"They - they were beautiful. Thank you."

"I can tell you were moved by them so they were worth it. I didn't see them but they couldn't be as pretty as you," Tom replied, and then as Gracie stood up and went to the window he continued. "And there you are, even more beautiful than yesterday, because you get prettier every day."

"Liar. I hate liars but I love your lies," Grace said as she gripped the window frame above her. "This way?"

"Perfect," Tom said. "Would you mind if we talked for a while? I'd like to know more about you."

"Not much to tell," Grace responded. "I'll answer things I feel comfortable with."

"Have you been with any men since your husband slithered away like the snake he is?" Tom asked.

"No, I haven't been looking for any more pain," Grace replied, but after hesitating added, "I did go to the Silver Slipper one night. That dump off Broad Street? Just sat at the bar ready to go with whoever hit on me. That's how lonely I was. No takers. I even had to buy my own drinks."

"Men are fools. Any women in your life?"

"No. Both genders are repulsed by me."

"You know better than that Gracie," Tom assured her. "Your nipples and your areolas? They look solarge."

"Probably because my breasts are so small."

"They aren't small. They look perfect on you. What size bra do you wear?"

"34B,' Gracie said, "although they seem to be shrinking because my bras swim on me these days. Probably an A cup by now. Sexy huh? Small breasts that hang down?"

"If you could only see yourself like I do," Tom replied. "Your nipples. Your big nipples. Are they sensitive?"

"Yes, usually quite sensitive," Grace admitted.

"If you want to, you can take one hand down and play with your breasts while we talk," Tom suggested, and when she did he sighed. "Gorgeous. They look so soft, and you're squeezing your tit so hard too. Is your right nipple hard?"

"Yes."

"I'll bet it is you sexy thing," Tom said. "Reach up and run your fingers through your armpit for me. Oh yeah, that looks so hot. The hair looks soft. Is it?"

"Kinda. A little damp because I'm sweating," Grace admitted.

"Sweet. I'll bet you taste as good as you look too," Tom wheezed. "I remember about this time last year when you shaved your underarms that time."

"Oh. I think that was when I had an appointment to get a physical for work," Grace explained. "When they check for lumps they reach under your arms, and I didn't want to look worse that I normally do."

"Stop that. Lucky doctor. Anyway, your armpits looked sexy smooth too. The hollows are so nicely shaped and deep. Then I got to watch the hair grow again until the snow flew and the curtains got drawn so I had to use my imagination until spring," Tom told her. "Is this conversation bothering you Gracie?"

"No Tom."

"How about this then? Does it excite you? Me talking about you so intimately?"

"No," Gracie lied, and then said, "I don't know. I'm not sure."

"Thanks for being honest Gracie," Tom responded.

"Is it raining out there Tom?"

"Just a mist. Nothing bad."

"Do you..." Gracie said and then stopped, changing her mind about inviting him in and changing the question to, "Have an umbrella?"

"No," Tom replied and then chuckled and said, "I would need more hands."

"You were going to invite me in there weren't you Gracie?" Tom said after a few seconds, and when she didn't answer he said, "I thought so. Not a good idea, even though I'm a good guy, but like I told you, we can't meet. I am going to share myself with you as soon as I get done with the disc though."

"I - I'm looking forward to seeing you, even if it is something disgusting. I wish I could see your cock right now."

"Really Gracie?"

"Something - anything," Gracie said as she lowered her hand, and when her admirer so where he was going his voice got frantic.

"What are you? Omigod! You're playing with your pussy! That's so sexy. That's it, rake your hand through that thick bush," Tom gasped as the middle aged woman writhed in the window, her one hand working furiously between her legs while her other tore at her pliant breasts, and when she came her voyeur was also cumming.

"What are you... Don't cry Gracie," Tom said after they were both done, and as she leaned against the window and sobbed she kept telling her it was okay. "You needed that. We needed it. You looked so special when you came."

"I - I have to go now Tom. Good night," she said as she staggered over and turned off the speaker before collapsing onto the bed.

***

There was a post-it note stuck on her window, and by now Gracie was familiar with the handwriting. Through the glass she could see what the note said - CHECK YOUR MAILBOX MY LOVE.

Since it was Sunday she wouldn't have bothered looking in the box normally but after seeing the note she hurried out to the box down by the roadway even though she was clad only in a robe and slippers. There was a paper bag inside the mailbox, and after she yanked it out hurried back inside to see what it was.

There was a box of inexpensive candy inside - a Whitman's Sampler - but what interested the middle aged woman more that the sweets was the little paper envelope with a silver disc inside. On the top of the disc in red magic marker was the same writing.

FOR YOU GRACIE - I THOUGHT ONLY OF YOU WHILE I MADE IT. LOVE FROM TOM.

Gracie fumbled with the disc to try and get it in the machine without dropping it, and after she turned on the TV the disc started up right away. There was sound but during the 12 minutes and 29 seconds Tom the Peeper didn't say a word, in fact the only noises he made were those that Gracie was familiar with from the speaker phone.

The camera must have been propped up on a table next to a bed, and there was little visible behind the man who was only visible from the stomach to his knees whether he was standing or laying down. Tom looked short for some reason even though that was only a guess, and his legs looked bowed when he was standing.

It began by Tom pulling off his shirt and dropping his slacks, revealing that he had a little belly and had baggy worn boxers. His thighs were very hairy and looked muscular, like he was a centaur or something animal-like, and he wasted no time in dropping his briefs.

"Good grief!" Gracie gasped when she saw his penis, the thick brown organ looking even larger because the hair around the base of his manhood was shaved, but it would have looked big no matter what and seemed to reach down near his knees. The abandoned woman was not unfamiliar with a well endowed man because her husband was one too, but not as big as this one seemed, and the hairy sac underneath it looked like it belonged on a bull.

Tom peeled back the foreskin on his meaty organ, revealing the crimson/purplish knob that was plum-like in both size and hue, and then he gave the camera a side view of his limp cock while placing a plastic ruler under it to provide some idea of how big it was, the tip reaching halfway down already.

Then Tom took his cock in his hand and began to pull on it with his fist, his stubby-looking fingers barely able to get around the girth of it as it got longer and plumper. The veins that ran up and down much of the cinnamon-hued organ looked like they were pulsating as he slowly pumped it, and after Tom squirted some kind of gel on his manhood it looked even scarier.

His fist kept pumping and the squishy sound of the gel now joined Tom's breathing and grunting, and before he laid down he even had both of his fists around his weapon, with just the very tip peeking out.

Then Tom laid down on his back, spreading his legs so that his big balls could ease down towards the bedding, and then his fist pumped up and down the angry looking organ faster and faster. The man's other hand even came down and kneaded his scrotum for a time, seeming to seize the meaty orbs savagely at times before that hand went back up.

Tom seemed to be pinching his nipples with that other hand, but only part of his hand was visible. Like his face, the rest was just out of sight, so close but so far.

The end came shortly after Tom's fist was working up and down rapidly, like a jackhammer as he made his guttural noises, and then his fist stopped as he clutched the stump of the huge cock, the foreskin fully retracted to show the beet red glans with the skin so taut it looked ready to explode.

It was then Tom came, and after an initial spurt that flew up and out of camera range his stroking resumed. He jacked himself off with purpose, and although the ejaculations after the first were much less spectacular, the semen kept flowing like lava from a volcano for the longest time.

In the end Tom's hairy knuckles were covered with semen, as was his deflating cock and just about everything else in camera range. As he went limp the plump head went back into hiding, and after Tom the Peeper gave his penis a couple of last pulls he let it drop down between his legs. A minute later, the screen went dark.

"Good grief," Gracie said aloud as she looked at herself while trying to get back onto the couch.

She had almost fallen off of the sofa during the movie, and as she tried to get herself together she shook her head when she thought of what she must have looked like watching that filth.

Her robe had might as well have been off, it having been parted as she abused herself while watching Tom. Her one hand had torn at her breasts while the other had frigged her pussy, and she had cum just before her admirer did, a rather mind-boggling orgasm that left her shaking even after the movie ended.

Gracie grabbed the remote, telling herself that she would watch it again, and while that was something she told herself many times during the course of the day, she started looking for clues in later viewings.

There weren't many hints, although after watching countless times there were a couple of clues that at least gave Gracie some ideas. Tom the Peeper had a ring on his pinkie finger, a silver band with a black stone that dug into his hairy knuckle deep like it had been on a while.

The second clue was a red garment that looked to be laying on the back of a chair in the background almost out of sight. There was something about the bright color of the thing that rang a bell in Gracie's mind, and while she couldn't make it out even after crawling over and putting her face on the screen, she could see a part of what looked like a name tag on the pocket.

While it could have been any of a number of jackets stores had staff wear, for some reason Grace thought of Chanatry's, a grocery store she shopped at nearby. A place where she cashed checks with her name on them, which would explain how Tom knew her name and address.

Grace knew she would stop there and see for herself whether anybody that worked there was wearing a silver ring, but that was for tomorrow on her way home from work. Tonight was for something else.

***

"Gracie," the voice chirped on the speaker. "You're early tonight."

"So are you Tom," Grace said as she grabbed the window ledge and leaned towards the glass, her breasts pressing against the cool window making her shiver.

"Did you like the movie?" Tom asked.

"Movie?" Grace asked as she played dumb. "What movie?"

"You know what movie," Tom grunted. "Is it my imagination or are you acting a little different? A little animated?"

"Is that bad?"

"No, and if it's because the movie turned you on that makes it even better," Tom grunted. "I don't think anybody ever got turned on by me before."

"Now you know how I feel," Grace replied as she grabbed a drooping breast and pulled it up so she could suck on her nipple, and judging by the reaction from her admirer he liked that a lot.

"Tell me. Tell me about it," Tom insisted. "Did you watch the whole thing?"

"Yes - over and over," Grace gasped as she ground herself into the glass shamelessly. "Your cock."

"Yes Gracie?" Tom whimpered.

"I used to think my worthless husband had a big one," Grace told him. "He looked like a boy compared to you. You could hardly get your hand around that thing of yours. I thought about what feeling that inside me would be like."

"Yes?"

"It would tear me up," Grace gasped. "I'm an old lady with a dried up pussy."

"No you aren't. I wouldn't hurt you. I swear," Tom promised. "I'd make you wet again and I'd be gentle."

"Not too gentle," Grace cried out as her orgasm neared.

"Okay."

"That bastard would get drunk and take me anally," Grace recalled. "Would you make me do that?"

"Only if you wanted me to," Tom sobbed.

"I hated it but in a way I also..."

"Oh shit! I'm cumming. AWWWW!"

"Cum for me!" Grace screamed at the speaker. "Make that huge cock spurt all over the place."

Then silence at both ends of the connection until Grace went over to the phone and whispered, "Goodnight love" before hanging up.

***

"Well, well, well," Grace Prescott said to herself after prowling the aisles of the grocery store after work, trying to be subtle while looking at the hands of all the male staff from the bakery to the front, but she didn't see what she was looking for until she went to the register.

When she looked at the energetic little man in the red jacket running between the registers helping all the cashiers bag their groceries, she realized why Tom the Peeper didn't want her to see who he really was.

The boy - man's- name was actually Russell, and Grace thought he must have been looked at as the store's mascot since she had shopped there. Russell had even worn a leprechaun's outfit on St. Patrick's Day one year for a store promotion, and although he wasn't actually a midget, a dwarf or a little person depending on what term was used these days, he was a short fellow in stature.

Even petite Grace was a head taller than the clerk, and to make it worse for the guy Russell had something wrong with his leg or foot which caused him to walk a little oddly, although it didn't slow him down. All that combined with not being at all handsome made the poor guy a man with a lot of strikes against him from the start.

Tom, or Russell, was right. If he ever had come up to her and asked her out on a date, she likely would have laughed and said no, and while the age difference would have been the main difference the other things wouldn't have helped.

She was as superficial as everybody else in the world was towards her, Grace concluded as she put her order on the belt, and she knew that she was as wrong as the others were.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Prescott," Tom Peeper/Russell said as he raced over to bag her few items, and if she had ever bothered to notice before, she would have realized he had always hurried over to her right away with his silver ring sparkling. "Nice day today."

"It is that Russell," Gracie replied as she took off the sweater she had worn all day and wrapped it around her waist. "Indian summer, or aren't you allowed to say that these days?"

"Who knows?" Russell said as he watched the package of cheap razors slide towards him on the belt, and as he grabbed for them Gracie ran her right hand through her hair, hoping that no one else would see what her sleeveless top revealed without the sweater over it.

Russell noticed though, and promptly missed the bag with the item, clearly flustered at what he had seen. Gracie was tempted to tell him she would only use them on her legs but decided against saying anything at all and just enjoyed his eyes so close to her.

"I wish you folks had a delivery service," Gracie chirped as she paid. "With winter coming and all and me not having a car."

"If you even need anything Mrs. Prescott, you could call the office and I would be happy to drop what you need off on my way home," Russell offered as he set the bag within her reach.

"Well that's service, although you don't know where I live. I might be on the other side of town," Gracie mentioned, enjoying her admirer's reaction.

"Yes, that's right," Russell replied but then added, "but you usually walk west when you leave here, so that's why I figured..."

"That's correct. Well, we'll see what winter brings. Thank you for your wonderful service though Russell. They should give you a raise," Grace chirped loud enough for the manager to hear as she took the bag and left the store. "See you again soon."

After she was out on the sidewalk she looked back at the clerk hobbling from register to register, wondering perversely whether part of the young man's walking difficulties were caused by the monstrosity that was hanging between his legs.

"I should have said you'll see me again soon," Gracie mumbled as she headed home, knowing that in a few hours she would be standing in front of her bedroom window for her now not-so-secret admirer.

She wondered whether he would actually come in when she invited him when the weather got cold. Gracie was sure that she would extend that invitation somehow, but until then she decided to pretend she didn't know who was out there, because not only did she enjoy their games, it was obvious Tom the Pepper did.

If Gracie did get the little fellow to come into her bedroom, would it change things? Would his odd appearance make her think differently of him? He looked past her obvious flaws and saw something worthwhile, and while he might not be a knight in shiny armor, he was a hard working fellow who fought against all odds to get as far as he did, just like she had. Besides, for whatever reason she turned him on, and just as strangely, the reverse was true.

She would find out soon enough, because after the leaves fell she couldn't have the guy stand out there in the snow, and she didn't want to think of long lonely winter nights now that she had gotten into the habit of being wanted.

***

Thanks for reading.