As the sands of time are rapidly running out for me, I find myself reminiscing my past. Whilst my earthly life has but a brief period to run, my sex life effectively died some years ago. All I have is memories, so it is not surprising sex plays a dominant role in my thoughts.
As an old man, in my seventies, who has been given the nod by my doctors that my days are numbered, I spend a lot of time looking back at my life. Recalling what I have done and achieved. Regretting the things I should have done and did not do. I do not suppose for a moment this is unusual, but when it happens to you, it takes it out of you, initially at least. Do not get me wrong, I have come to accept my imminent demise and am mostly at peace with it. I think the song, Angels, sums up my feelings best – “I’m not scared of dying, I just don’t want to.,” yet.
I never planned on these thoughts going public. It was just a few scrappy notes for my own consumption. The ramblings of an old man, as it were. But one of the individuals concerned saw those notes. They thought that others may identify with some of the situations and suggested I tidy them up into a story and post them on your forum. This series, if it goes that far, is the result. My true-life story, but memories fade at my age, so some liberties may have been taken with details.
If you are expecting beginning to end, dirty, perverted sex, it is not for you. Bug out now…no hard feelings. And I do not profess to be a literary genius; so, if my writing style and grammar offend you, you know where the ‘close’ button is!
Part 4 – Not so lonely this Christmas
I am assuming if you are reading this, you have followed my earlier journey through parts 1-3 and are a glutton for punishment…So here that journey continues.
As you will recall, I left my armed forces basic training, still a virgin, at the age of 17. I was not totally sexually inexperienced though. I’d had a few encounters prior to and during my ‘boot camp’ days, as described in the earlier chapters.
I had been recruited into an electronics engineering training programme. What was known at that time as a ‘sandwich’ course. A year’s intensive, full time theoretical learning, followed by several years of ‘on the job’ practical experience on operational units, before returning for a further year of advanced theoretical/practical learning at the training establishment.
After a few days leave, to recharge after basic, I arrived at my new base a few weeks before Christmas in 1973. It was a training establishment, so discipline was still quite strict, but by comparison to ‘boot camp’ it was luxury. Accommodation was in four or five-man rooms, rather than 18-to-20 bed barrack rooms. And ablutions, showers, and toilets, although still communal, were partitioned and curtained to provide some degree of privacy. One could at least find a quiet corner for a crafty wank when needed.
We also had much more freedom. It was essentially a Monday-to-Friday, 0800-1730 school routine, roughly aligned to the state school and college terms. There were some working evenings and weekends, and we were expected to study and maintain ourselves and our accommodation in a clean and tidy condition, but otherwise we were free to come and go as we pleased. As I was still technically a minor, if I left base, I was required to sign in and out at the guardhouse, and be back on base by 2359 hrs, but often “accidentally forgot” if a late night was expected.
Another marked difference to basic; there were many more female staff, and a few female trainees on base, although in that era, the later were very rare. Needless to say, they had pick of the male population, if that was their thing. There were also the local girls. Local unemployment was high and even as trainees, we were regularly and quite well paid. Which made us quite popular with the local girls, though not so the local lads, who resented us ‘stealing’ their pussy!’
It seemed no sooner I had arrived and settled in, Christmas was upon us, and we were packed off for two-weeks block leave. I went home to my parent’s gaff for the festive period. At this point, I had been away for several months and was keen to try and catch up with some of my former school friends; though sadly, my former girlfriend Janet had moved away by then. Despite us all still being underage, the local pub was of course the main haunt, and it was here where I reconnected with Gillian, or Gill as she preferred.
Gill was one of the girl-gang, with whom I had played a strip game about a year ago. She in fact was the host for that event, in her bedroom. As such I had seen her stripped to her bra and knickers and she, of course, had seen me naked, with a raging hard on! To say that Gill had blossomed quite a bit in my absence, would be an understatement. Always a thin lanky girl, she was transformed from caterpillar to butterfly, if you will forgive the metaphor. Now a tall, shapely young woman. Her fair hair usually worn in a ponytail, but when let loose, would tumble sexily past her shoulders, framing her pretty face to perfection. She had a wonderful hourglass figure, large firm breasts, above a slender waist and flared hips. Her long legs, as they say, reached all the way to her bum, a very succulent bum it was too!
Being about a year younger than I, Gill was actually still in her last year at high school, so definitely underage for the pub, though very few landlords would consider challenging her age as she looked much older than she was, assuming they gave a shit in the first place, which was not as common back then. So, it was where I found her, with a few other old friends, enjoying a swift mid-week drink (yes, on a school night, disgraceful!).
We spent a couple of hours catching up; me relating some of the ‘horror stories’ of my basic training, them passing on the gossip from home; who was with whom, who had done whom, who wanted to do whom, etc.! Most of those present had early home curfews midweek, so started to drift off. Gill was the last to leave and as she lived on my street anyway, I offered to walk her home, which she accepted. I had never really been alone with Gill before so the short walk to her home was a little awkward and we arrived there all too soon for me.
You will recall from parts 1-3, I am quite reserved, but as we stood at her door in silence, I felt I was expected to make some sort of move. So, I leant in to place a kiss on her mouth. It was nothing passionate and could have been written off as just a friendly goodnight gesture, if necessary, but to my surprise, Gill reached to the back of my neck and pulled me closer. It was all too brief, but at least she had responded, and tongues were involved. After just a few moments Gill broke away and started to turn to go inside. Fuck it, now or never. Can we meet up again, I asked. Yes, Schoolwork would keep her busy until the weekend, but she would meet me at the pub again Friday night.
On Friday, at the appointed time, I arrived as agreed, but Gill was not there yet, but a couple of her friends and their fellas were. I asked to join them to wait for Gill. I was a bit worried I had been blown off, but about 20-minutes later, Gill arrived, wearing a long shaggy coat (an Afghan I think they were called) against the cold, her hair down with a festive mock holly headband keeping it from falling over her face. Apologising for her tardiness, she sat down next to me, and gave me a polite peck on the cheek, which to be honest I did not expect. I went to the bar to buy a round of drinks and when I returned, Gill’s coat had been shed, to reveal that in honour of the season, she was wearing a maroon velour, wraparound dress, with faux white fur at the hems. It was tightly belted at her waist emphasising the thrust of her breasts, and was fairly low cut, showing plenty of top boob and cleavage.
We had a very pleasant couple of hours chatting as a group, with Gill steadily sitting closer and closer to me, occasionally touching my arm or thigh, giving me a bit of a semi. By closing time, we had all had a few drinks. Nothing excessive, but enough to make us all ‘merry and bright.’ Outside, we said our goodbyes, split into our couples, an unspoken agreement put Gill and I in that category it seems. This time, arm in arm, we headed for Gill’s home, snuggled close against the cold. When we reached her garden gate, another surprise. Gill walked me straight past, about 200 yards further up the road, and into the play park that backed onto the houses.
We found a bench seat to lean against, and without further hesitation embraced and started to kiss. This time it was much more passionate than earlier in the week. Our tongues explored each other’s mouths, with vigour. As we kissed, our hands started to fondle each other, over our thick clothing. I stroked down her back, to her firm buttocks, which felt wonderful, despite the Afghan coat covering. Gill more or less mirrored my movements and when she reached my bum, pulled me firmly against her, trapping my now rigid penis against her clothed mound, at the same time pressing her tits against my chest.
Then the thing I had been somewhat dreading. Gill asked if I remembered the strip game we had played. “Of course I do” I replied and tried to embarrass her a little by describing the underwear she had stripped down to. That of course backfired, as she reminded me, I had got naked and shown her my fully erected penis. “Is it any bigger now,” she asked, grinning lasciviously. Uncharacteristically, for me, I told her that she would have to judge that for herself.
With that, Gill backed away a little, reached into my coat, undid my trousers, and extracted my straining cock from within, exposing it to the chilly wind, which I am pleased to say, did not affect my hardness. She looked down to inspect it and declared it did in fact look bigger to her, bless her! She started to gently stroke me, rolling my foreskin up and down, and spreading my self-lubricant over my bulging glans. As she continued to stroke, I reached in and undid the waist tie of her dress. Trying to keep her relatively covered against the cold, I cupped her tits through the thin lace bra she was wearing, feeling her nipples prominent and hard, even before my touch, but growing even stiffer when I did.
We both purred a bit at the touch and continued our mutual ministrations. She continuing to rub me, while I freed her tits from the bra. In the dark of the night. I could barely see the pink crowned white orbs, but I could feel the goose bumps rising on her exposed flesh. Fearing this liaison would be short lived, I reached down and cupped her mons and probed my fingers towards her cleft, feeling her dampness through her knickers. I rubbed her gently for a few minutes as she continued to wank my cock. She mewed softly with pleasure, but then suddenly pulled me into her, crushing her lower body hard against mine, making further hand stuff virtually impossible, for either of us.
Gill groaned and confessed, as much as she wanted to go on with me, it was just too cold out here for that. She tearfully apologised for teasing me, then backing out without giving satisfaction. Although highly frustrated, I assured her it was okay and stressed that she had not been finished off either, so we were equal in our unfulfilled desires, which she appreciated. But I had effectively been given a green light that we could go further, and with over a week of my leave left, I was hopeful we would do so before it was over. We adjusted our dress, then hugging close, headed back to Gill’s home. We were both reluctant to part company, but with each of our sets of parents known to be at home, there was little else we could do that night. With a final, deep kiss, Gill went in, and I went home.
All I wanted to do was run to my room and masturbate, but when I got in, I found my mum had retired to bed and my dad was sat having a last smoke before he too went to bed. I half expected to get a bit of a bollocking, for being out so late, it was just before 1am by now. Instead, he invited me to join him for a quick nightcap; I was now an adult serviceman in his view, I could do as I liked. Scotch in hand, we chatted for nearly another hour before I could finally excuse myself and turn in.
I had struggled to tear my mind away from the evening’s events, and control my cock, whilst with my dad. But in the privacy of my room (was it still my room?), I at once started to wank myself off, imagining it was Gill’s hand doing the business, as I thought of the feel of her tits and moist fanny. I came profusely into a wad of tissues, which tempered the orgasm a little, but I was not going to leave my mum my spurts of semen to find in the morning. I like to think Gill had flicked the bean furiously too, which she later admitted being the case.
Before we parted Friday night, Gill and I had agreed to meet up after lunch the following day. We were going to get the bus into the nearby city centre, neither of us drove. Well, I had a moped in our garage, but that was useless for the two of us, especially on a provisional learner's licence. We spent the afternoon browsing the shops, watching the street entertainers, and generally wasting time together. We separated for half an hour to do some private shopping. I bought Gill a soppy Christmas card, and a silly stuffed toy, which I gave her for Christmas; and made a quick stop to Boots the Chemist, to make sure “I had something with me.” My wallet rubber looked a bit ropey, to be honest!
When we met up again, I splashed out for us to eat at the city centre Wimpy, Britains first chain burger franchise, I believe. We then went to the cinema, the latest Bruce Lee as I recall. It was quite packed, but we still managed to get busy and invade each others ‘swimsuit areas’. I did not cum, but Gill admitted later she had had a small orgasm when I found and circle rubbed her clitoris (those of you that have ever bulled/spit shined your boots will know, it developed the perfect clit stroking action too)! After the film, we tried to go for a drink at a couple of the city centre pubs, but they were so crowded with Christmas parties, we could not get in, so we gave up and got the bus back to our own town.
By the time we got home, we had lost interest in having a drink, so we headed to our own street. When we got to her door, Gill excused herself and dashed inside, leaving me standing confused on the doorstep. Momentarily she returned with a massive grin on her face. As she had expected, her parents had gone out for the evening, to her father’s office Christmas bash, and were not expected home until the early hours. She had not said anything earlier just in case things went wrong. Her younger sister was home, but she had gone to bed and would not care what we did and anyway, was sworn to silence. So, I was invited in and up to her bedroom, not for the first time you will recall.
We quickly shed our outside clothes and made for the bed, there was to be no hesitation. I still was not sure exactly how far this would go, but the situation held promise! We were both dressed in jeans, shirts, of some type, and woolly pullies. The jumpers came off straight away, to give easier access to buttons and zips. We started to kiss passionately, tongues and bodies entwined. Gill undid my shirt buttons, pulled the shirt tails from my waistband, and shucked the shirt off my shoulders. Uh oh…sleeves still buttoned. A brief struggle and I corrected that problem. My turn, and off came her blouse, cuffs undone first this time. I fumbled behind her for her bra clasp, unsuccessfully. Gill tutted, and deftly reached behind her and undid it in a single motion; how do women do that?
Her tits were now fully exposed and open to my gaze. I had had a brief sighting of them the previous night, but that was nothing compared to now. Beautiful, firm teenage boobs. White, rounded, and soft and pliable to the touch. I had seen bigger, plumper and much older breasts, but Gill’s were hard to beat. A quick “may I?” Got me a nod of approval, and I took first one, and then a second tiny pink nipple into my salivating mouth. I kissed gently, then sucked and nibbled at each perfect pap, feeling them contract and harden on my lips. Gill groaned softly and thrust her chest out, as if trying to force all of her tits into my mouth. I tried my hardest to oblige, but could only get so much in. I had to content myself with licking and gently biting all around her firm fleshy globes, before returning to the protruding nips.
Whilst continuing to mouth those boobs, I reached down, undid the button of her jeans, and lowered the zip. I had had my hand in there earlier, in the cinema, but they were tight fitting, and again I fumbled amateurishly trying to get them down any further. Gill again stepped in. She broke away from me and started to lower them for me. In my defence, it was not a breeze for her to do it herself. She had to pull them down, a little by little, wiggling her hips from side to side to gain an inch at a time. In honesty, this was quite arousing to watch. As the trousers came down, her knickers got lowered too. Gill made no attempt to stop this happening. First her light blonde bush, then her moist outer lips came into my view, for the first time. Seems I had won the strip game at last.
Gill completely removed her jeans and knickers, tossing them off the bed, onto the floor with her blouse and bra. She was now naked for me, save for a pair of woolly pink socks. I fervently hoped this was not a metaphor for getting cold feet!
Feeling over dressed; I quickly tore off my own remaining clothes and joined her, naked on the bed. As I lightly caressed her mound, she took my cock in hand, and massaged it gently to full hardness, not that it took her that much effort. I ran my middle finger up and down the parting of her pubic hair and along her lips, gradually increasing the pressure, until they parted, giving me the first sighting of her inner sanctum. I had to see this close up. I broke from our embrace and knelt at Gill’s side. She had to release my dick, which was just as well, as I could feel embarrassment quickly approaching. I reached down to lift and separate her knees, which went unresisted, so I moved in an knelt between her feet. In this position, I had an unobstructed view of her pink inner labia, topped by her large, prominent clitoris, the largest I had seen to date by far. It protruded from its hood inviting me to see to it. It would be rude not to.
I went straight into my shoeshine technique, circling her bud with my right index finger. Gill arched her back, widened her knees, and lifted her pelvis to force my finger more firmly to her. This also had the effect of spreading her labia further, exposing her vaginal opening to me. Beads of her excitement glistened there, a sign of her increasing arousal. Whilst keeping my attentions on her clitoris, I inserted first one, then two fingers of my left hand into her vagina, moving them in and out in a fucking motion. I continued this dual action fingering for several minutes, until suddenly Gill grabbed my hands a stopped me. She had not orgasmed, but said the direct stimulation of her clitoris was getting too much and starting to be uncomfortable. A new one on me but stored away in the memory banks for future research.
After giving her a few minutes to allow her to settle, I once more reached out to caress Gill’s fanny. To my disappointment, she blocked my advances. She told me she was tired of hearing her friends boast about how they had ‘gone all the way’ with their boyfriends, while she had never done it. Yes, she had allowed other boys to masturbate her. And her girlfriends, including my ex, Janet apparently, and she had ‘used things’ to break their hymens some time ago. But she had never had a penis inside her. Perhaps I was the one to break her duck. Perhaps this was the time and place. Perhaps I’d take her virginity, please! Perhaps it was finally going to happen for me too!
My disappointment was thus short lived but was at once replaced with nerves and uncertainty. Did I tell her, that I too was a virgin. I had never directly claimed to have had sex, but similarly, had never actively discouraged anyone from thinking that. Perhaps she was expecting me to be experienced and to take her to heights of ecstasy on her very first fuck. But there was no way I wanted to let another opportunity pass. I had fucked up too many times before. But I could not control it. I blurted it out. It will be my first time too. It will not last long, and it might not be good for her. No matter, she said. She just wanted me inside her, now!
My heart was racing. My cock was so hard it hurt. No more excuses. No turning back. Now was the hour. I got off the bed and retrieved the pack of rubbers from my coat pocket. Taking one out, I tore open the foil wrapper and unrolled the contents on to my throbbing cock. I had practiced this action before, then had a posh wank into the rubber skin; so at least I got that bit right. I moved back to Gill on the bed and positioned myself again between her spread thighs. I inched forward until the head of my penis was touching her parted labia. As I had read about in men’s magazines, I rubbed my cock head up and down her cleft, to further lubricate us both. She was still very wet and even through the rubber barrier I could feel her, slippery and hot.
And then the moment was there. Gill reached down and took my cock in her hand and guided the head to her willing opening. We both tensed. I looked her in the eye one last time. She nodded her consent and bit her lower lip in anticipation. I started to press home. Gill was very tight, but also very wet, so slowly the glans of my penis entered her. Her vaginal muscles seemed to contract, as if to eject my offending member, or at least impede its further violation of her. Gill placed her hands on my bum cheeks to help pull me further into her. Gradually, working in unison, we got the length of my, not overly long or thick, cock inside her. Our pubic mounds and hair making contact. She was right, no hymen to break, thank goodness, just her virgin tightness to overcome. She told me to stay still for a bit to allow her to get used to being filled. I was actually incredibly grateful for that, as I could easily have shot my load there and then.
After a few moments, Gill relaxed her hands on my butt and rocked her hips back away from me. My cue to start moving. I withdrew until I was about to fall out completely, then re-entered her slowly again, to the hilt. Gradually we got a bit of a rhythm going and we both started to relax a bit and enjoy the new sensations. Gill bought up her legs a bit more and crossed them across the back of my thighs. To be a hundred percent honest I found, and always did find, this quite uncomfortable. It seemed to restrict my motion; perhaps that is the idea? But on the positive side, it did seem to open her up more, giving better depth of penetration; or perhaps that is the idea!
I could claim I went on to fuck her so hard she came multiple times and squirted copiously. I could even claim I made her orgasm once with my dick. Both claims would be total bollocks. After just a few minutes of thrusting, and reciting Newton’s laws of motion in my head (one of our earliest lessons in training), to distract myself, I could hold out no longer. I told Gill I was about to cum and bless her, she just told me to let go and started humping against me more. That did it for me. I let go, shooting a heavy load of semen, thankfully into the rubber, to the accompaniment of a strangled, low-pitched scream.
I tried to carry on pumping after I came, for Gill’s benefit. But like her before me, I found the continuing stimulation too much. I would have to learn the secret of fucking on after ejaculation later. Besides, I could feel the spunk filled Durex flopping around and slipping on my dick inside her. I was frightened it would slip off and spill my captured seed into her. So, in deference to the instructions on the packet-of-three, I decided to “Withdraw soon after ejaculation, holding the product in place with your hand, and dispose off thoughtfully.” (Military life was teaching me to, mostly, do things by the book. Drills and skills we called it. Learn the drills and follow them to the letter. You cannot fuck up then, and nobody gets hurt!).
I pulled out and lay next to Gill. When I looked at her, I half expected to see contempt and anger for not bringing her off too. Instead, I saw a broad grin. True, I had not made her cum yet, but we both really knew that only happened the first time, in the letters and stories in mens’ magazines, and on internet story sites in later years! She was simply happy she had lost her cherry and in relating the story to her girlfriends, it would all be wonderful. All unicorn poop and bouncing babies; probably not a good analogy that last one. And of course, I had lost mine too. Win, win, win!
Okay, time to keep things even. It might have been my first fuck, but it was not, as they say, my first rodeo. After a short recovery period, I started to kiss and fondle Gill again. She giggled nervously, but did not stop me. Slowly I kissed and licked my way down her body. Her neck, her chest, her breasts, and nipples, making them stand out proud again. As I proceeded further Southwards, she started to get the message and responded by placing her hands on the back of my head, encouraging me to go further down. A quick diversion to scrunge my tongue into her navel, which was rewarded with a brief bout of hysterical laughter, and I arrived at her pubic mound. I toyed with her light, fluffy bush, licking, sucking the hairs in and pulling gently on them with my teeth, eliciting more giggles. Finally, I arrived at her vagina. Still engorged and wet from our earlier rutting.
Drawing on the lessons I had learned from Nurse Slut at boot camp, I started to tongue up and down her parted lips, sucked in her inner labia and probed her vaginal opening with my tongue, as deep as I could. It tasted slightly rubbery, from the latex of the condom, but also of Gill’s womanly secretions, which were starting to flow again. Like Sluty before her, she assumed control, guiding my mouth up to her clitoris, which I licked and sucked with relish, but not too harshly, I did not want to overdo it again.
As my mouth did its work, I added a couple of fingers into the mix, gently rubbing the front wall of her vaginal canal. I was ignorant of the existence of the G-spot at that time, but by pure fluke, it seemed I had found it. Gill bucked her hips and groaned with pleasure, imploring me to not stop, to just keep doing what I was doing, right there. I was happy to oblige. It did not take as long as I expected. She started to groan and pant, then tensed up as her orgasm drifted through her body. It was not earth-shattering, but it was all for her, which won me enough smartie points for repeats later that week.
In the short moments of stillness and silence that followed Gill’s climax, I would swear I heard childish giggling outside the bedroom door, followed by the sound of small feet running away on the landing. I dashed to the door and threw it open, but there was no sign of anyone, fortunately. I was still naked and sporting a stiff cock. But I was certain Gill’s younger sister had been spying on us from the doorway. Provided she kept her vow of silence, who cared.
Gillian and I spent as much time as possible together that leave and managed to fuck twice more before I had to return to base, on New Years Day, to resume my training. Both occasions were rushed affairs, as we had no real idea how long our olds would be out. They were enjoyable though, for me at least. I still had a pretty hair trigger and would struggle to hold back my orgasm long enough for Gill to get there. On the last occasion that week though, our third time, our window of opportunity was very narrow. Still mostly clothed; me with trousers and pants pulled down and Gill knickers off and skirt up, she sat on my lap, and I entered her from below. Gill then bounced up and down on my cock. In this position I could reach around and rub her clitoris as we fucked. Using this method, Gill just about managed to get there before I blew my wad into her again.
My next block of leave would not be until the Easter break, the following April. I upgraded my moped to a proper motorcycle, well an old BSA Bantam, which enabled me to get home for a few weekend passes. This meant riding home after duty on a Friday evening and having to be back on base by 2359 hrs on Sunday. Gillian was studying hard for imminent O-Level exams. She was a bright girl and wanted to, and did, go onto do A-Levels and attend University. All this meant that we only had a few hours together on each of my visits, which never seemed to coincide with an empty house to get it on in. It was an atrocious winter, so outdoor sex was out of the question, so our activities were restricted to a few furtive hand jobs and pussy rubs; nice, but equally frustrating.
Gillian now had equal bragging rights within her peer group, and I guess word got out that she was no longer a virgin, and potentially ‘available’. Gill suddenly became a target for the local males; and why not, she was a stunning girl. She soon established a relationship with Nigel, a school colleague, who eventually went on to the Sixth Form College with her. I got the ‘Dear John’ letter a few weeks before the Easter furlough. As per tradition, I pinned the letter to the NAAFI bar notice board, meaning my money was no good at the bar that evening. I got fall down pissed, threw up multiple times and woke with the worst hangover ever; but the ghost of Gillian was exorcised. We stayed on speaking terms though whenever we met in future but never resumed any romantic or sexual connection. But she was my first fuck and I would never forget her for that, as this account proves!