Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 29

After a brief interlude, we both sorted out our undress, and both accepted things had run their course, for that night at least. So, we prepared to say goodnight, for real that time. There had been a couple of hints that there could be repeats to come, but to make sure, I asked Sal if she wanted to see me again. In mock fury she answered, “After what I’ve done for you tonight, you’re fucking right I want to see you again, for my turn.” It was said in jest, but it was a valid point.

There was usually a ‘film night’ in the unit bar each Sunday, so we arranged to meet there for that. I went in for a final hug and kiss, but she blocked me with her hand, reminding me of my spunky shirt front, which she didn’t want transferred to the front of her dress. So a quick peck on the lips had to suffice.

We finally parted ways, and I set out on the, mercifully short, walk back to my block, quietly praying I wouldn’t meet up with an MP patrol en route. I’d done nothing wrong, really. But I didn’t want to explain my soiled clothing and have to divulge who I’d been with, to confirm nothing non-consensual had occurred. I got back to the block without incident. Part of me desperately wanted to confront Chris, to tell him what a shit he was for dumping out on Sally. But in reality I knew what I really wanted, was to give him a blow by blow account of the night he’d missed out on. But I was not going there! I was not going to ‘kiss and tell’ and potentially embarrass Sally and her family. What happened in the taxi and front porch, would stay in the taxi and front porch!

Sunday night came too slowly for me. I smiled broadly as Sally entered the bar. But my smile turned to a grimace when I saw her mother and father, one of my bosses, with her. Sal returned the grimace, as if to say ‘I know, but there was nothing I could do about it.’ I went to her to say hi, receiving a quick kiss on the lips. Dad bought a round of drinks, which to my surprise included me; it seems I’d been accepted as a suitable consort for his eldest daughter (Sally had two younger teenage sisters.) We went to grab seats for film night, with me sat one side of Sally and her olds the other.

We enjoyed the film, it was A Clockwork Orange, which I’d not seen before, but have always liked since. The delivery of a movie in our club was always a bit clunky. Done on a single 16mm projector, requiring numerous reel changes, and often frequent breakdowns. During one enforced interval, mum and dad went off to use the facilities. Immediately Sally apologised profusely for her parents being there. They had planned to come themselves anyway, so it would not really have been practical to come separately. I told her it was okay, but she responded saying it was not, “…I wanted to have you alone”, and teasingly lightly ran her hand across my crotch.

The parents returned, the film restarted and we settled back down, with Sally hugging my arm. She would dig her nails into me, quite hard, as scenes of Alex DeLarge’s brutal aversion therapy unfolded. My concentration on the film had drifted, as my imagination centred on the thought of being alone again with Sally, as she’d mentioned. Where would that have gone, I wondered.

Anyway, sexually, the evening was a bust, but at least I’d established acceptance by her family. More than I realised it turned out, when mum cornered me and thanked me for ‘rescuing’ her daughter Friday night (if only she knew…or perhaps she did), and that she’d be having strong words with ‘that bastard Chris’ when she saw him next. She then stunned me by inviting me to tea at their home one evening, Sally knew she was asking she added when she saw my hesitation. I would be back on shift the next day (we did three days, three nights, 12- hour shifts) but we arranged a day during my next rest days.

I didn’t see much of Sally during that shift cycle. We did meet briefly for coffee at the NAAFI Café while I was waiting to go on on my first night shift, but that was it. But most of my time was, as is usual mid cycle, either working, preparing for work (washing, pressing and polishing) or sleeping off nights. So when ‘tea date’ day came I was really looking forward to it, and dreading it at the same time. A trip into the lions den.

So it was the following Sunday I pitched up at Chez Sally, armed, like any good suitor, with a bottle of wine and flowers for the mother. As I stood in the porch, waiting for the door to be answered, my mind flashed back to the previous weekend. I quickly had to flush that memory from my mind, as I could feel stirring in the trouser region. The mum answered the door, and was surprised when I proffered the gifts; surely that was meet the parents 101, even if you already actually knew them. She showed me into the lounge, where dad was sat, and offered me a seat on the sofa. He greeted me politely. I was used to addressing him as ‘Sir’ at work, so continued to do so; he did not discourage that. We made small talk, but I’m sure he felt as uneasy with the situation as I was.

Fortunately, within a couple of minutes, Sally came downstairs to join us. She looked really nice, with her hair pinned back and with contacts in, just as she had been the previous Friday. She was wearing a plain, white, button through blouse and a denim skirt. Her legs were bare and she had flip-flops on her feet. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and sat down next to me on the sofa.

With Sally in the mix, the conversation got easier and the tension lifted significantly, but I can’t say I was sorry when Sir/Dad was called out to get the grill going. As soon as he left, Sally grabbed and kissed me firmly. She could sense my discomfort and told me to just relax and follow her lead. Easier said than done, but I tried my best. She hugged me close and we just sat in companionable silence caressing each other gently, but not to the extent that we would become too aroused. Just enjoying each other’s company.

Before not too long, mum stuck her head in the door and called us to the table to eat, and on her way back to the kitchen, called up the stairs to hail Sally’s siblings. When they joined us in the dining room, I saw that the sisters were both in their mid teens and both very similar in appearance to Sally. Introductions were made (I don’t recall their names now). Thereafter they took little notice of Sally or I, they were more interested in discussing the current ‘scandal’ at school, and an upcoming Christmas party at the garrison youth club.

The meal was served. Typical Cypriot fare; shafftalia, souvlakia and grilled halloumi cheese, with loads of Greek salad and dips. There was also a couple of bottles of wine on the table, the one I’d bought and another. I was told not to stand on ceremony, to dig in and help myself to food and drink, which I did, but made sure the ladies served themselves first, earning me a nod of appreciation from mum and dad.

The food was good and a couple of glasses of wine relaxed us all. Even the younger girls were allowed a small glassful, which was nice in my opinion. As we ate, we talked about everything and nothing. They asked about my past and my future aspirations. When I stated I hoped to make a full career in the military, but that my immediate goal was to finish this tour, then get back onto my advanced technical training, Sir nodded his approval. Smarty points were being added to my scoresheet all the time it seemed.

When we’d eaten our fill, the youngsters asked to be excused (yes we did that back then) and disappeared back up to their shared room, no doubt to continue the character assassination of some poor school ‘friends’ characters. Mum rose and started clearing the table. I offered to help with the washing up, etc., but the offer was declined “Thanks, but no. You’re our guest. You and Sally just go and do your own thing”. I was a little surprised when Sally announced we were going to her room to “listen to music” I expected resistance, but none came. But then again, Sal was an adult after all.

We went upstairs to Sally’s room, entered and she closed the door behind us. She went to her portable radio/tape player, and inserted a cassette. Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon, one of my favourite albums as it happened. The room was furnished with typical MoD married pad items, including two of the issued narrow single beds, pushed together to form a make shift double. There were very few personal items, other than the mandatory make up and toiletries, some books and her music player and tapes. She said most of her stuff was still in storage in the UK. She hadn’t made up her mind yet how long she would be staying, so hadn’t bothered to dress her room up at the moment. The thought of her leaving soon was not a good one and made me more determined to make the most of what time I had with her.

With nowhere else to sit, we inevitably gravitated towards the bed, sitting with our backs to the headboard. To break the ice, Sally had grabbed a family photo album and began flicking through it, describing what we saw. Growing up a service brat, she’d been with her parents on several overseas deployments, including Hong Kong and Germany, even on an exchange posting to the USA. I was quite envious and hoped I might one day get similar posts, though sadly, many of the better locations got closed down before I got the opportunity.