Where it happened: girl's home
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 10
Category: Straight
While I was a patient at the Seattle Naval Hospital during the summer of
1945, I worked as a patient/volunteer for a time for a Lt. Kardash,
answering the phone in the Welfare and Recreation office. He was asked
to find a 5th Division marine who didn’t mind standing in front of an
audience to go on a local bond tour. This was the 5th War Bond Drive, and the
symbol chosen was Rosenthal’s famous Iwo Jima flag-raising photo. I wasn’t one of the guys
in the picture, but I was a member of that division, and happened to be
in the neighborhood when the picture was taken.
The bond drive involved visits to various factories and commercial
establishments within a three-county radius. One of my audiences was the staff of the Olympic Hotel,
which was then Seattle’s leading hotel. One of the features of that
bond drive was a queen contest. You voted by buying bonds. The hotel’s
candidate was a pretty young elevator operator named Shelly something or
other. A beautiful girl (or so I thought, at any rate) with long, long
red hair.
After I gave my little speech, one of the hotel’s big shots took me to
one side and asked if I had plans for the evening. When I said no, he
asked if I would like to escort Shelly to dinner as a guest of the
hotel? Is the Pope Catholic?
So I wound up taking this drop-dead gorgeous young woman to dinner. They
laid it on, too. Of course the PR folks were taking pictures, and
making a big fuss. After dinner we went to the ball room. I couldn’t
dance (I was still on crutches at the time), but I could watch and I
could drink. (Washington was then semi-dry; you could buy beer and wine
in taverns, but no mixed drinks or hard liquor. That you bought in a
state store and brought with you to places like the Olympic ballroom.
They then sold you the setup — the ice, glasses and mix.)
Only in this case, they also provided a paper sack containing a pint of
Southern Comfort, as I recall. This was very popular (and available). Regular whiskey was not. By
midnight, I was feeling very mellow, and so was she. The hotel provided
a cab so I was able to escort her home as a gentleman should. Now
remember, I was navigating strictly in uncharted waters. She came
willingly to rest against me when I timidly put my arm around her shoulder, and even
reached up to kiss me on the cheek.
It was a long cab ride; the girl lived way out in Ballard somewhere.
When we pulled up to her door, I intended to give her a quick kiss and
direct the cabby to take me to the hospital, but that was not to be.
Instead, when we arrived at her house, she almost literally dragged me
out of the cab.
“My father has been waiting up to meet you!”
“But how’ll I get to the hospital?”
“He’ll take you. Don’t worry.”
I had very mixed feelings as I watched that cab disappear around the
corner. Still very reluctant, I allowed her to tow me into the house,
and sure enough, daddy was waiting up for us. He turned out to have been
a marine in the AEF of the first World War, and was anxious to swap war
stories. He knew I had been wounded on Iwo Jima, and wanted as much first-hand
information as I could provide.
Shelly sat quietly on the sofa next to me holding my hand while the old
man and I swapped lies, but finally, she stood and yawned. “It’s getting
awfully late, Daddy,” she said pointedly.
I expected the old man to get up and put on his coat, preparing to drive
me to the hospital, but instead he looked at his watch. Then he stood
and offered his hand. “It’s been good to meet you, sir,” he said. Then
he turned to his daughter. “Good night, dear,” and he walked out of the
room.
WHAT THE HELL???????
Sensing my confusion, she took my hand. “Would you like to come
upstairs or would you rather stay down here?”
I was embarrassed, confused, frightened. I literally didn’t know what to
do. She pulled me down on the sofa and kissed me on the mouth. Then she took my hand and placed
it on her breast. Still I hesitated.
“Haven’t you ever — you know — done it before?” she asked.
How do you respond to a question like that? A dozen conflicting ideas
raced through my mind — what will she think if I tell the truth? Will
she know if I lie? I tried for neutral ground.
“Suppose your mom or dad wake up ?”
“They don’t care,” she said. “You might as well know that I’ve done
this before.” As she spoke, she unknotted my tie and began unbuttoning
my shirt. Then she stood, and quickly circled the room, turning off the
lights until only the lamp by her father’s chair remained lit. Just as
quickly, she unbuttoned her blouse and stepped out of her skirt. I had
my shirt off by this time, and watched her draw her slip over her head.
I must admit that although I had seen some naked hoochi-koochi dancers
at a county fair, I had never seen a girl (outside the Sears Roebuck
catalog) in “proper” undergarments — cast iron brassiere, steel-belted
girdle, industrial grade garters holding up cotton stockings — and I
thought she was the most beautiful, most exquisite, most delicate, most alluring
creature I had ever seen.
She crossed the room, and kissed me again. “When I come back,” she
said, “at least have your shoes off.” Then she gathered up her clothes
and vanished into the hall. I was to learn later, of course, that there
is no romantic or seductive way of removing a panty girdle, but I didn’t
know that at the time.
In fact, I still wasn’t sure what was in store. But I didn’t have long
to wait. I had just removed my shoes when she floated back into the room
wearing a kimono. She sat next to me, and pulled my head down so our
mouths met again. This time, I felt the tip of her tongue touch the
corners of my mouth. Hungrily, I took her in my arms, but she pushed me away.
“We’ve got to do something about this,” she said, as she released my
belt buckle and began unbuttoning my pants. I had a serious erection by
this time, and I was very embarrassed about it. I tried to conceal it
from her, but she would have none of it. She had my pants down around my
knees, and seized my stiff cock through my shirts.
“My goodness,” she said. “What are you going to do with this?” She began
to rub it through the cloth, but I pulled away.
“You’re going to make me come,” I whispered.
“I hope so. That’s the idea. It’s more fun the second time.”
IT IS????
Almost immediately, I felt the juices begin to gather in my back and
begin their long, exquisite journey down my urethra and into my spasming
cock. She was pumping hard, and was rewarded with a flood that pooled in
my bunched up shorts.
“That’s better,” she said, wiping her sticky hand on her kimono. “Now
come here, look me in the eye, and tell me this isn’t your first time!”
I sat next to her, conscious of an electric shock as my bare thigh
touched hers where her kimono had carelessly opened. Hardly daring to
look at her, I nodded. “You’re right,” I whispered, “this is my first
time.”
“I thought so,” she said. “You might as well learn to do it right,” she
continued. “Put your hand here,” she said, placing my hand on her soft,
warm breast. “Now gently roll my little nipple between your thumb and
finger like this.” Suiting action to words, she demonstrated.
I was an apt pupil, and soon had her nipple engorged. She began
thrusting her chest against my caressing fingers. “Now put your other
hand here,” she said, spreading her legs as she placed my hand on her
springy pubic hair. “Feel that?” She pressed my finger into her cleft.
“Lick your fingers, then try it again,” she said. She was breathing
more quickly as she guided my wet fingers into her cunt. “Ah, that’s
it,” she said. “Rub your fingers up and down, just like that.”
She put her hand on my cock again. I was surprised that it was already
stiff. “There’s just one thing,” she said, pulling back so she could
look me full in the face. “If I let you inside me, you’ve got to promise
you’ll pull out before you come. I don’t want to get knocked up!”
At that point, I would have promised the moon and the stars for an
opportunity to sink my enormously distended cock — so stiff it was
painful — into her beautiful body. She rolled on her back, and spread
her legs, hooking one over the back of the couch. Then she reached down
and seized my cock in both hands. She stripped my foreskin back and
rubbed it up and down her slit. “Push!” she commanded.
I timidly pressed myself into her, and felt my glans pop inside her
inner lips.
“Push again!” she ordered.
The second time I pushed, I lost all contact with the world. All I knew
was that my cock was in the most wonderful place, and I kept strenuously trying to improve that
feeling. Suddenly, I was aware that Shelly was hitting me on the chest, and I heard her urgently
whispered “GET OFF — I know you’re about to come!!!”
I pulled out just in the nick of time. My cock was straining to deliver
its load, and deliver it did, all over her stomach. Shelly pulled me
down into her arms, and kissed me lovingly on the mouth. “It wasn’t so
bad, was it?”
There you have it,
Denny
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