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 6 – Easter Eggstravaganza
Still here?…Okay, your choice, do not blame me!!!
I had been looking forward to but also dreading the upcoming Easter block leave. Looking forward to, because the two weeks break from training would give me plenty of time to advance my fledgling relationship with Sandie: but dreading, as with her living with her parents and I living in a four-man room in a military barrack block, privacy for intimacy was hard to come by.
Fortunately, my course leader, Garth, had thrown me a lifeline at the last minute, by giving me free access to his single-man room, whilst he was away from base. It was, of course, strictly forbidden to have female guests in male accommodation, and vice versa, but any port in a storm as they say. It would be worth the risk.
Normally, I would be expecting Sandie to come to the Thursday night NAAFI dance, but due to the Easter shut down, there would not be one that or the following week. No mobile phones in 1974, so I could not contact Sandie until she was home from work that evening. I called her, from a payphone at about 7:30 pm. Her mother answered and asked who was calling. I was not sure if Sandie had told her folks anything about me, but when I told mum “Tell her it is Titus,” which she relayed as she cheerfully handed the phone to Sandie.
Confirming it was okay to talk openly, I told her I hoped I had not caused trouble with her parents, calling her at home. She said it was fine. They knew of me, but not the details of our relationship; after our recent day at the seaside and train ride, thank goodness for that! We planned to meet the following evening, Good Friday, at her local pub. I casually mentioned that I was moving into Garth’s single room while he was away. I did not want to openly presume I wanted to fuck her there, but she gave a lascivious chuckle and responded “Ohh, that’s great.” Perhaps we were on the same page. We chatted on until I ran out of coins to feed the payphone, then said our goodbyes. I then headed back to the block, to clear up Garth’s room a bit. He was a messy shit between inspections!
The following evening, I caught the bus into town; we would likely be drinking, and I hoped not to be coming back alone later, so using my BSA Bantam was out. I got of the bus at its terminus, on the station approach and headed straight to the pub, by chance meeting Sandie at the door. We embraced and kissed our greetings. For 9:00pm on a Bank Holiday Friday night, it was still quiet quite inside. Sandie spotted a couple of her friends, and went over to say hi, while I went to the bar for drinks (I stuck to shandy, I did not want to get pissed tonight). When I had been served, I noted that Sandie had sat at the table with her mates. I assumed that was where were staying, so I joined the table.
It turned out to be a good move. Having a small group to share the conversation kept things moving and relieved any tension there may have been between Sandie and I, At least, I was quite tense, she was laughing and joking like a goodun. The banter between the girls got quite risqué and I caught a couple of guarded references to train journeys. Had Sandie talked about our activities that Sunday with her friends? It seemed like it. But from the remarks, I did not seem to have come out of it badly, so who cared?
At closing time, we said our goodbyes and Sandie and I decided to go to one of the town nightclubs. Compared to the pub, it was quite busy but not heaving. We found an empty table in a dark corner, where we could smooch and grope each other a bit, all sort of first base stuff at best. We also danced a bit, mostly slow numbers, where we could legitimately get up close and personal. Sandie would press her tits and mound against me and rubbed my stiff cock against her. Puerile stuff I know, but it got our motors running. It also gave me the momentum to ask what I had wanted to ask all evening. Did she want to come back to base with me, to Garth’s room?
Sandie wanted to know if what I was suggesting was allowed. I had to be honest with her. No, it was definitely not permitted. If we were caught, I would be in deep shit. The worse that could happen to her though is that she would be banned from coming on base, though even that was unlikely. I continued by telling her that I wanted to be with her and was more than willing to accept the risk, but I would accept her decision totally, without question, without recrimination. I did not want to ruin what we had so far by trying to push her into something she was not comfortable with. Sandie fell silent, while she considered her options. A few moments later she smirked and said “Okay, I am in. Fuck the consequences.” Not exactly what I planned to fuck, but along the right lines!
We had one more quick drink, she for Dutch courage, me, I was still staying soft and sober, then we joined the thankfully short taxi queue. We had a tense moment as I signed her in at the guard house. It was well gone midnight, and the duty sergeant eyed us suspiciously, where was a young female guest going at that tine of night. I had worked out a cover story that she was staying with one of my married course colleagues, in their married pad, for the Easter holidays. He either accepted the lie or did not give a shit anyway what we were up to. He’d asked the question, if I was lying, that was on me. He gave Sandie a visitor’s pass for the duration. Unless he checked later, which was unlikely, we would not have run that gauntlet again, assuming we would even have needed to.
The next hurdle was getting Sandie into the block unseen. The vast majority of the trainees accommodated in our area of the base were away on leave. And to the best of my beliefs, only Paddy and I had stayed behind in our block. After a quick pause to ensure we were unobserved, I punched in the lock combination on the main entrance door, let us in, hurried Sandie to Garth’s room, and locked the door behind us. I closed the blinds and turned on the over bed lamp, bathing the room in a soft, incandescent light.
Those single rooms were not huge. The only free-standing furniture was a single bed, which took up a good third of the space, a bedside locker, and a chair. Everything else, a wardrobe, storage cupboards and a small, drop-down work desk, was built into a wall unit. These layouts were pretty standard at UK military bases the world over at the time. Sandie’s eyes were at once drawn to Garth’s collection of pinups, taped to the wall above his bed. Centre folds and pages from various men’s magazines, all depicting topless or full nude models; shit, I had not thought of those. As I fidgeted behind her, she studied the images with a smirk on her face. “Do you have dirty pictures on your wall?” She queried. Red faced, I admitted I did; she would demand to see them later the following week. Chuckling at my embarrassment, she started to make comments on a particularly nice set of boobs, or a tempting bush (still the 70s guys!) Then she spotted a picture of a really busty model with flaming ginger bush. “Oh, snap!” She said, “we will have to compare notes later.” HELL YES!
I unstoppered the flagon of cider I had got in earlier (alcohol was another thing prohibited in single accommodation) and poured us each a mug full. Sandie was a little tipsy from her earlier intake, but still fully in possession of her faculties, so I was not worried I was taking advantage. We sat down on the bed, chinked mugs and toasted our success so far. In no time at all we were in each others' arms, kissing passionately and pulling at each others clothing. As my tongue explored hers, her lips, her teeth; one by one I undid the buttons on her blouse, remembering those at the cuffs, and peeled it from her shoulders, revealing a pink, lace trimmed bra, that barely held her tits in.
As Sandie attacked my shirt buttons, I reach across and massaged her breasts through her bra. I weighed them in my hands, they were heavy and full, and I rubbed my palms across their peaks, feeling her nipples stiffen and push at the material. By now I too was bare chested, and Sandie leaned across and sucked first one, then the other, of my own nipples into her mouth. Another first for me, but I found it really arousing and groaned softly at her touch. But two can play at that game.
As Sandie continued her mouth job on my tits. I reached behind her and unclasped her bra, freeing hers, revealing them to me in their full, naked glory for the first time. Some of the poster girls on the wall above us, had nothing on her. I would say they were a large D-cup, with marble sized stiff nipples, set in puckered dark areolae. I gently lay her back on the bed and positioned myself so that I could lick, suck, and nibble her teats, while she continued to do the same to me. She giggled at the bizarre position we had got ourselves in but then mewed softly with pleasure as I chewed gently at her.
In this position, my hands and arms were occupied, keeping my weight off of Sandie’s face, but she was able to reach up, above her head, to work my trousers undone and extract my stiff member. In my mind, I had planned that she would jerk me off and make me ejaculate early in the proceedings, so that if we did end up having intercourse I would hopefully last longer. And if we did not, well nothing lost, I would have cum. Sandie started to pump me slowly, whilst continuing to kiss and lick at my nipples. But the position soon got uncomfortable for both of us. So, I got off and sat sideways on the bed, and she sat up to the left of me.
This relocation allowed Sandie to get back to work on my cock, without straining above me. It also allowed my access, under her skirt, to her. As she stroked on, I worked my right hand down into her tights and knickers, through her pubic hair jungle, to find her moist fanny lips. As I parted those lips with my middle finger and touched her inner labia, she sharply drew in breath and sighed loudly with pleasure. I found her hooded clitoris and started to circle my finger around it, eliciting more moans from her. Without warning, she let go of me, stood, and quickly removed her under garments, before resuming her seat, and her wanking of my cock.
Sandie was still wearing her skirt, just, but I now had much better access to her vulva. I resumed the clitoral stimulation but was now also able to reach my left hand across and insert first one, then two fingers into her sopping wet vagina. As our mutual masturbation continued, we were both heading towards orgasm. What was not in my game plan was that she would get there first. With a long, deep, strangled groan, she let go of my cock and pinched her own nipples. She pulled them away from her body, so hard, stretching her breasts, that I was convinced she would do herself harm. Sandie’s body convulsed and she pushed her mound hard against my hands, maximising the contact and her orgasm racked through her body.
Sandie lay back, catching her breath for a few minutes, eyes closed, contemplating, well, I know not what actually. When she had recovered her senses enough to speak, she took my face between her hands and drew me for a deep kiss and thanked me for getting her off. I was of course delighted with that but reminded her again that it was her body that delivered the results in the main, I just provided a bit of friction to help it along. She smiled at me and kissed me again the, grabbing a pillow from the bed for her knees, pushed my knees apart and knelt between them. I thought at first, she was going to fellate me again. But instead, she took my cock in her hand, with a sort of underhand grip, where her thumb was on the underside, against my frenulum, and her fingers on top. This gave a different sensation to a ‘normal’ wank, which soon had me coming back to the boil again.
Occasionally Sandie would change her grip, forming her fingertips and thumb into a circle around my glans. She did in fact also give me a few licks with her tongue, up the length of my shaft, and beneath the glans; She liked the way that her tongue would make me tremble and shudder, but for the most part it was just a bloody good handjob. If my goal was to orgasm now, with the hope of delaying coming too fast later if I got really lucky, then I was not to be disappointed. Sandie’s handwork was absolutely amazing. No reciting of scientific theorems was going to hold me back this time. I tried to give her a warning but could not get the words out in time. She must have felt or at least anticipated my climax. This time she directed my cock directly towards herself, pumped me frantically and sighed loudly as my rapid-fire bursts of spunk hit her directly on the face, chest, and tits.
It was now my turn to slump back, struggling for breath, with my vision starring and fading, temporarily, to darkness. Through my drooping eyelids, a saw Sandie massaging my semen into her breasts and around her nipples. She appeared to be in her element. She was for a few moments oblivious to anything other than my seed on her body. It was a bit spooky to be honest, or perhaps it was just that I had not come across someone with a fetish before, albeit a pretty innocuous one.
Soon though, my vision cleared, and Sandie came back from wherever her mind had taken her. She got up and walked across to the towel rail, next to the radiator, and grabbed a hand towel, Garth’s hand towel; I would have to launder that later. She used it to clean the residue of my cum from her face and body. At that point she was stood there, unashamedly before me, in just her thigh length skirt. But that was soon to change.
Staring me directly in the eye, Sandie reached behind her and undid the zipper at the back of her skirt. She let the garment drop to her feet and stepped clear, by stepping towards me. There, in the shaded lamp, she was totally naked before me, for the very first time. At that moment, I realised I had been horribly unjust in thinking her ‘fat.’ She was NOT fat; she was not really even plump. She was just a larger than average lady, who’s body was perfectly proportioned for her size. I scanned up and down, from head to foot, back to head, taking in her form, her face, her breasts, her hips, her thighs, calves, and feet. I drank in her nakedness, at the heart of which was her flaming red pubic bush. I was transfixed.
Sandie started fidgeting. I realised I was staring and making her feel uncomfortable “Wow,” I exclaimed. I stood and engulfed her in my arms and leaned down to kiss her. She relaxed and accepted my kiss. I swung her round and pushed her gently down onto the bed. I wanted to make love with her, there and then, but I am not blessed with the ability to maintain an erection after cumming, or the ability to get hard again straight away, so I knew it would be a little while before I could rise again. Instead, I parted her thighs and dropped by knees between them, on the pillow where she had been before. I parted her pubes to find her cleft and started licking up and down her outer lips. Sandie placed her hands on the back of my head and guided my mouth to the apex of her sex so I could suck and lick her clitoris, making her gurgle with joy. As her excitement level increased, her lips parted to reveal her fleshy inner labia, which I sucked between my teeth and nibbled gently on, before returning to her clit.
When Sandie had said she orgasmed easily, she was not kidding. After just a few minutes of my mouth work, she was again on the verge of cumming. Her hips began to buck on the bed, and she crushed my head between her thighs, whilst forcing my face against her vulva, making it hard for me to breathe. She too held her breath for a good twenty seconds or so, as the orgasm took over her body, before relaxing her grip on me slightly, allowing me to surface enough to draw breath. Once again, I knew I could not take full credit for her enjoyment, but boy, did it feel good to be a part of it.
After only a very brief recovery period, Sandie was tugging at my remaining clothes, my trousers, and underpants, to remove them. I stood and helped her get them off, dumping them on the floor behind me, along with my socks. I rummaged in my coat pocket and retrieved the packet of Durex I had secreted there and headed back to the bed. Sandie beckoned me to her and took the packet from me, removed one and placed it on the bed beside her. She reached out and took my penis in both of her hands. Using a sort of rolling motion, she bough me back to full hardness. Then, opening the foil packet, she positioned the rubber on the tip of my bared glans and rolled it down the length of my shaft. This in itself was very stimulating and made me shudder with pleasure, making Sandie chuckle.
The rubber firmly in place, Sandie lay back, parted her thighs, and reached out her spread arms to me in invitation. As I moved between those thighs, not that easy on the narrow single bed, she reached out for my rubber clad cock with one hand, whilst parting her pubic hair and vaginal lips with the other. I eased my body towards her, and she guided me to her entrance, which was still well lubricated from the previous tonguing.
With the rubber covered tip of my rampant cock nestled into the waiting portal to her vagina, Sandie moved her hands to my arse cheeks, drawing me into her. I slid in easily and our pubes met. I dead sticked for a few moments, to allow myself to overcome the immediate feeling I was going to cum. Back under control, I reached over Sandie’s head and grasped the crossbar of the metal bedstead, to keep my upper body weight off her. Now comfortably coupled, I started to slide in and out of her, slowly at first, but gradually increasing the pace.
Sandie pulled her feet up towards herself, her heels almost touching her bum. This adjustment must has bought some part of me into contact with her clitoris, as now as I stroked, she would chant “Oh yes…Oh fuck or, yes, right there!” In rhythm to our motion. The earlier wank she had given me was doing the trick keeping my orgasm at bay, but I still would not last for ever. As we headed towards our individual climaxes, Sandie begged, “Bite my tits!” (This became a feature during our fucking). I lowered my face, but could not quite reach her breasts, until she used her hands to lift them to me. I sucked the supple flesh of her breasts between my teeth and gently bit down. She admonished me, “Harder. Nipples, Harder!” I was terrified I was going to cause her injury but, as before, she relished the pain; afterwards, there were distinct bite marks and bruises on her breasts, but she did not care.
Sandie’s orgasm broke as it had previously. Her body stiffened, her thighs convulsed, and she gave a stifled groan. This time, there was also a distinct gush of wetness at the junction of of our bodies. That was it for me and with a similar grunting and stiffening, I gushed my semen into the the rubber sheath. My arms gave way, and for a brief moment my full body weight fell onto the prostrate Sandie, making her grunt. She pushed me clear, relieving the crushing, but also requiring me to withdraw my cock from her vagina. Fortunately, the rubber stayed in place without added assistance.
We lay quietly recovering, me with my face now resting lightly on her lower belly, just above her mound. I idly toyed with her bush, twirling the curls in my fingers. Sandie broke the silence, “Titus, I have to pee.” Ahhhh…Logistical problem that had not occurred to me before. Male only accommodation block, no ladies' toilets! She would have no choice but to use the communal facilities. I was now certain it was only Paddy and I ‘at home,’ and it was the early hours of the morning, so the risk of discovery was low.
I got up, slipped on my trousers, and went out into the corridor to confirm all clear. When I returned, Sandie had put on her coat over her nudity and slipped into her shoes. I took her hand and directed her to the bogs. I switched on the lights, and she took in the layout of the room; the WC stalls, the full height urinals, and the hand wash basins next to them. With an evil glint in her eye, she headed straight to the urinals, unbuttoned, and opened her coat and thrust her hips forward. I genuinely though she was going to stand there and piss in the urinal, but after a few moments of mock straining, she turned to me, grinning, waggled her fingers to say “No,” and headed for one of the stalls. To be honest, I was a bit disappointed, I would have liked to have watched that. As she tinkled, I went to a urinal, relieved myself and washed up. I waited for Sandie to finish, then we scurried back to the room.
When we were locked back in, Sandie grabbed one of Garth’s baggy tees, that was airing on the radiator, sniffed in to make sure in was clean, slipped it on and climbed into bed, silently telling me she was stay for the rest of the night. I disrobed and joined her. I would love to say we slept soundly until dawn, but the truth is, the bed was far too small and uncomfortable for the two of us, so we both slept fitfully. But it was my first after sex sleepover, so I was not going to complain.
In the morning, after another furtive trip to the toilets, the next logistical issue was food and drink. Ordinarily I took my meals in the cookhouse, but that was not an option with Sandie. So, we opted to catch the first bus into town and find a café. When we had had our fill, I paid the bill and we headed, on foot, towards Sandie’s home. I was more than a little concerned that I would be confronted by an irate father, for keeping his young(ish) daughter out all night, doing God knows what to her. But even when we kissed and parted company, and Sandie walked in shouting “Mum, Dad, I’m home.” There was no reaction from her parents.
Sandie had family plans for Easter Sunday, so we had arranged to meet up again on the Monday. It would also give us a night or two to get some better-quality sleep before the next round. This time, having had a temporary pass for two weeks issued on our first night, Sandie could come on base unescorted, by showing her credentials to the gate guard. It was early evening, and she came to our block, found Garth’s window, and knocked to let me know she was there. I noticed she had a largish tote bag with her, rather than the smaller shoulder bag she normally carried.
As planned, we headed for the NAAFI to relax there for a few hours, but found due to the unit leave, only the ‘pigs bar’ was open. As per its derogatory nickname, it was extremely basic, not full-on spit and sawdust, but close. There were also a few of the base permanent staff guys there, who were quite worse the wear for drink, and soon started getting a bit leery with Sandie. So, we quickly finished our drinks and left, I was not going to subject her to that shit. Though in fairness, she gave as good as she got.
We both knew, or at least expected, the evening would end up with us in bed, but neither of us wanted that to happen too early. Perhaps our success in not being discovered on Friday had made us a bit blasé, so we threw caution to the wind, and we entered the block and went to the common room. I retrieved the cider flagon from the room, and we settled down to watch some cheesy Bank Holiday film on the TV. It was risky, but if we were caught there, at least it would be less of an issue than being caught naked in bed.
About an hour into the film, and a couple of glasses of cider in us, we were cuddled up, on an easy chair, laughing at the comedy. Without warning, the door opened and there stood Paddy. My heart had missed a few beats, and I must have gone quite pale. We stared at each other for several seconds until Paddy spoke up. “Oh, hi guys, I heard the TV and wondered who was in. What are you watching?” not at surprised at all to see Sandie sat there with me. Uninvited, but very welcome, Paddy came into the room, closed the door, and sat down on an adjacent chair.
I made the introductions and offered Paddy some cider, and when he had retrieved a clean mug from the tea table, poured for him. We watched the end of the film, making the odd inane or smutty comment at some of the raunchy dialogue. When the film ended, the evening news came on. As was quite common, one of the lead stories was about another sectarian killing in Belfast, drawing a venomous “Bastards!” from Paddy. Hearing this, Sandie reached out and laid a sympathetic hand on Paddy’s arm. He smiled and thanked her for her concern. To my surprise, this led into a pretty deep and meaningful conversation between them about the “Irish Problem.” Nothing confrontational or sectarian, just about known facts and figures, why he had decided to join the British armed forces, his hopes, and dreams for the future of Northern Ireland, that sort of thing. I joined in where I felt it appropriate but was in awe of her grasp of such a complex issue and mainly just listened in silence.
Sandie and Paddy had really connected, and the conversation progressed onto other subjects. But it was getting late, and Paddy rose, saying he had a day out planned tomorrow and needed to go to bed. He said he hoped to see Sandie again, soon, winked at me and left the room, closing the door behind him. I gathered Sandie in my arms, kissed her full on the lips and exclaimed “Wow, that was intense.” Trying hard not to be patronising, I told her I thought she was wasted, sitting at that sewing machine, day after day. She needed to get out of there and into something more commensurate with her intelligence and abilities. She teared up a bit, and said she was working on it, but still needed to decide what she could be good at. I suggested politics, which made her laugh, but she did not dismiss the idea.
We started to kiss more passionately our ardour rising. Sandie stood and took me by the hand and started to lead me to the door. I stopped, switched off the TV, gathered our possessions and left the room, killing the lights and closing the door behind us. The block was in darkness, Paddy had gone to bed, and we were effectively alone again. We headed to Garth’s room, openly via the toilets this time, no point in being furtive now Paddy knew we were there and locked ourselves in for the night. We immediately stripped off our clothes and got down to it. I could not help but notice the small bruises on her breasts from my biting. I told her I was not comfortable with doing that again, but she brushed it off as not being a problem. We would be more careful in future, but that she really liked a bit of rough handling of her tits and that it helped her cum and have great orgasms.
Our sex that night was as intense and pleasurable as it had been that Friday gone. Except this time, she blew me before I went down on her. And our fucking was more novel too. The bed was just too small for anything too elaborate, but when I was rubbered up, Sandie moved to kneel on the bed and grasped the crossbar, like I had previously. “From behind please.” She purred, another first coming up.
I got up behind Sandie, who reached back for my cock, and again guided me into her. The sensations I felt from this position were overwhelming. I felt deeper into a vagina than I ever had before, the depth of penetration was insane. A few moments to settle myself and I started to gently thrust but was not doing it right. Every time I would pull back, my cock would fall out. I tried adjusting position, to no avail. Patiently Sandie offered “Hold it in with your hand.” I reached my right hand around her hip and cupped it over her mound, trapping my penis in her hole. I started to move my hips again, this time staying rooted inside her. I soon discovered that I could also use my thumb to massage her clitoris, which made her cry out, “Tits too, Titus!”
I reached my left hand around to fondle Sandie’s breasts. I gave her nipples firm pinches and tugs but was not going to get really rough again. It was enough though. I had come to recognise her impending orgasm, and she was soon close. I increased my thrusting and clit diddling, which tipped her over the brink. As she came, she pushed her legs backward, sinking to her belly on the bed. I followed her down managing stay inside her and kept on thrusting. This revised rear entry position was even more stimulating for me, and it was only a few more ins and outs before I was shedding my sperm into rubber once more.
We woke relatively early next morning, after another disturbed night. I was surprised when Sandie announced she had had to be back at work that morning. She had a change of clothes in her tote (ahhhh, that explained it), but she needed a shower, as she “stank of sex!” I was dubious. There were no private shower facilities, just curtained cubicles in the communal ablutions. She was quite insistent though. I could stand guard outside, or better yet, join her in the cubicle. Hmmm, now that offer convinced me!
We headed to the showers and chose the cubicle furthest from the door. When the water ran hot, Sandie ditched the coat she was still using as a robe and stepped in. I ogled her wet body for a moment or two, before disrobing myself and joining her. Taking the soap from her, I started to lather her up, giving far more attention than necessary to her breasts and public mound. With the sensuous feeling of my soapy hands on her tits and clitoris, it was not long before she was orgasming again. It was not as full on as some of her others, but a definite cum.
Just as Sandie was moving round to face me; to wash me, I heard footstep as someone entered the washroom. I made the sshhing sign with my finger, to stop her speaking. She had not heard the person enter and quizzically looked at me “what?” I pointed to the curtain and silently mouthed “Someone out there.” “Paddy?” She mouthed back. I shrugged my shoulders, do not know. Just then I heard water start to run into a sink and used the noise to cover a surreptitious peek round the curtain. It was indeed Paddy (who else really as we were the only other people in the block right then.) He was having a wash and shave ready for his day out. Closing the curtain quietly, I turned to Sandie and nodded, yes, it’s Paddy.
As God is my witness, things instantly transformed into a comedy scene from a modern-day porn film. Giving me a shit eating grin, Sandie at once dropped to her knees in front of me, fully retracted my foreskin and took my semi-rigid cock in her mouth. I could not help blurting out an audible “Oh fuck!” Paddy heard and asked, “Okay in there mate?” “Yeah, fine thanks,” I replied, “water ran hot for a bit and scalded me, but all okay again now.”
I tried desperately to disengage Sandie from my cock, but she was having none of it. Despite my protestations, she continued lick and suck me, driving me mad with silent lust. All the time, she peered up at me and I could tell she was struggling not burst out laughing at my predicament. In the end I just leaned back against the shower wall and accepted it and sod the consequences. As I was getting near the point of no return, Paddy pulled the plug, cleaned out the basin, gathered his wash kit and headed for the door. As he left, he loudly called out “See you later, you two.” Sandie could not contain herself any longer. She virtually spat out my dick, and through guffaws of laughter yelled after him, “See you later, Paddy.” Suffice to say, she finished the job, making me cum all over her face and tits once more, before washing off her hair and body, and heading to the room to get dried and dressed.
I followed directly, not knowing whether to be mortified or smug with myself. This was stuff of barrack room legends and I would not have minded being a legend for once. However, the incident did not become general knowledge. I did tell Garth, but Paddy and he obviously kept it to themselves. But it earned me plenty of kudos points when Paddy recounted the story at a reunion piss up, many years later; there was no danger of recriminations by then and he just could not keep it to himself any longer he claimed.
In theory, we still had eight days of the block leave left, but people started drifting back to base the following Sunday, due to erratic train times and the need to wash and clean uniform, abandoned to clear of on leave, ready for return to work the following Wednesday. Sandie and I did manage two more fantastic nights in the block before that Sunday, cementing our relationship further. I laundered and ironed the stuff of Garth’s that we had soiled, and as agreed changed the, by then, well used sheets. I could not though legitimately tell him that I had not been caught, but he got a good laugh out of hearing the story of Paddy catching us in the shower. After all, no harm had been done.
Sandie and I kept our relationship going right through until I completed my initial technical training year, that November of 1974. She never did get her own place while I was there, so our opportunities for sex were a bit hit and miss, but always good for both of us when they did happen. I tried to wangle a first duty post at a nearby operational unit when I passed out, so we could carry it on, and perhaps make it permanent. But world events had other ideas.
In July 1974, Turkey had invaded and occupied part of the Mediterranean island of Cyprus. Cyprus was, and still is, a major stronghold for the UK military. It was also a very sought after overseas posting, especially among service families, many of whom lived in local towns and villages, alongside the Cypriot population. Post invasion, it was considered unsafe for this practice to continue, and many families were repatriated to the UK and the posts filled with single soldiers, sailors, and airmen as soon as possible, so the menfolk could return to their wives and children.
It was not usual practice to place personnel straight from training overseas for their first duty unit. But because of the Cyprus Emergency, several of my course, including me, were to be sent there to fill repatriated posts. It would be a 30–36-month unaccompanied tour of duty, so I would be away from the UK for up to three years, with only limited chances for UK leave. I would have just two weeks embarkation leave to set my UK affairs in order, then on a C130 to Akrotiri, there to find out where I would be working. It could be anywhere on the island.
As virtually every couple who find themselves facing separation do, Sandie and I planned to ‘make it work’ long distance. Though we both knew in our hearts that 2000 miles of separation, in that pre internet and mobile phone world, was pushing the bounds too far, and that we would likely drift apart, and we did, almost immediately. Phone calls were hard to coordinate and very expensive. We exchanged letters for a while, but the replies soon got less and less, then stopped altogether, putting and end to things between us.
Three years later, when I returned for my advanced training, I tried to look Sandie up, for old times sake. I learned that she had carried through on her ambition to return to education and was currently attending a University in the East of England, studying political science. I was overjoyed for her!
And me, I had just completed three years on the Island of Aphrodite; the Island of love, with some tales to tell! If you are interested in hearing them, let me know, otherwise I will end it here.
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