Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 9

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.