Freckles free porn video

Essentially, this story depicts how my wife and I met and first had sex. It is written from my wife's viewpoint but by me using her recollections and notes (women remember these events far better than men). She dictated and edited the more intimate parts. However, she is scared stiff of being identified. Therefore, names, location, jobs etc have been changed. It is, as they say in the movies, 'based on true events'. The way we met and the sex, was as depicted.

I'm English, so English spelling, grammar and terminology are used.

This work is copyright protected.

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June 1980, West Germany, as it was then.

God, why am I so shy? Sometimes I could scream with frustration. I almost wear my clit out masturbating nearly every night thinking of the things I'd like to do with a man, one man in particular, but if one even speaks to me socially I go all stupid and timid. Now, they don't bother - they know they're not even going to get a kiss, let alone sex. At work, I'm okay though and can chat happily - maybe it's the lack of pressure. I don't know. It's driving me nuts.

I don't think I'm ugly. I work out in the station gym four times a week, swim most mornings and run every evening. I'm told I'm very pretty but I'm not convinced. How many men lust after women with small tits, ginger hair and masses of freckles?

I was standing on the rubber matting at my workstation in the engineering hangar at RAF Wildenrath in West Germany, near the Dutch border. I'd just spent most of the day fault finding and servicing a large reconnaissance camera and was now running it on a test rig having re-soldered some loose electrical connections. The rubber mat was to provide electrical isolation in case I screwed things up.

I'd been given the task by the Chief Tech who'd told me, "I want it running by close of play", meaning five o'clock. I glanced at the clock on the wall. As the only female avionics engineer on the base, in fact, one of only a few in the RAF (this was 1980 after all), I was constantly having to prove myself. Flicking the main control switch, the huge long camera sprang into life. Watching the various dials and screens, everything was spot on. Shutting it down, I re-set the simulated altitude from 10,000 feet to 30,000 feet and re-started the camera. The Image Motion Compensator slowed to its new setting - bang on. The clock on the wall said five to three.

Grinning to myself, I shut the camera down, disconnected all the cables and signed the worksheet. Standing in the Chief's open doorway, I waited while he spoke on the phone. Looking up he gestured towards an old armchair in the corner whilst berating the supply squadron over some delayed parts. Slamming phone down, he muttered, "Fucking pen-pushing idiots", before scribbling something on a pad and looking up. "Ginge!", he smiled, "What can I do for you?".

I liked Chief Dawson. He recognised my abilities and protected me from some of the lad's more excessive banter and practical jokes.

I handed him the clipboard. "The F96 Vinten is all done, it's ready for lifting off the bench".

Reading down the form he said, "Fuck!".

"What's the matter?", I asked certain I'd done a good job.

"Nothing, but I doubt if it's produced readings like this since it was in the factory. Well done. Now you get a prize - you can knock off".

"Thanks, Chief", I said grinning and rising.

"Hold your horses, there's a catch".

Isn't there always in the military? Slowly, I sank back down.

"I had a phone call from the Station Warrant Officer half an hour ago. He asked me if I had anyone I could knock off early. He needs a short-notice replacement volunteer to help behind the Corporals Mess bar for happy hour and tonight. You've volunteered".

My heart sank. That would mean talking to people. "How did you know I'd finish the camera early? Why me?".

"Because you're bloody good. You don't get to be one of the youngest Corporals in the trade without being good at your job. But you need to be seen around the station more, push yourself forwards. They'll be quite a few officers in there tonight, so it's a chance for you to see and be seen. Tidy your stuff away, tag your tools, shower, be at the mess by four, in civvies, wear something cool, it's going to be hot and busy in there tonight. Don't worry, you'll be on with an experienced guy".

After my shower I pulled on a pair of cream shorts and a yellow cheesecloth shirt I'd bought at the weekend, tied in a knot above my belly button. I may not have big boobs, but I had the flattest, tightest stomach of any woman on the base. After putting my red hair into a ponytail, I walked from the WRAF accommodation block the quarter mile to the Corporals Mess. Finding the front door locked, I walked around the back to where I could hear beer barrels being dragged around. Lifting one steel barrel onto another was Corporal Alan Sanders.

Oh Christ, don't tell me I'm on with him! The nicest guy around, and my favourite masturbation fantasy. Alan was a Physical Training Instructor and a blue-eyed dream. There wasn't a woman on the base who didn't fancy him but it was well known that he was off limits. He had a girlfriend back in the UK and he was one hundred percent loyal to her. He'd never even been seen to kiss a girl. Though disappointed, most women, including me, admired him for his principles.

Taking a deep breath, I said, "Hi".

Looking up he smiled and said, "Oh hi Freckles, I'm Alan", in his West Country accent, "I heard you were coming, what time do you call this?".

"But...., I was told...", I stammered.

"Hey, I'm just winding you up".

"Oh..., okay. Everyone calls me Ginge".

"I know, but I've got a cousin who's ginger and he's known as Ginge but he hates it. I guess you do too, so I'm gonna call you Freckles".

"What if I don't like being called Freckles?".

Alan leaned on a barrel and thought for a moment. "In that case, I guess we're fucked".

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Have you worked behind the bar before?".

"Once, but only for an hour or so".

"Okay, it's dead simple. All beers and spirits are one Deutschmark, soft drinks are fifty Pfennigs. Spirits are a Mark and can only be sold in singles, no doubles - Station Commander's orders. I'll show you how to work the till. It's going to be really busy tonight; Jock Cameron's wife dropped a baby girl last night so half of 16 Squadron's going to be coming through the doors at five o'clock to wet the baby's head. He's paid for a barrel of Pilsner which I've already tapped and put on a table in the far corner. On the bar, you'll find six trays of beer glasses. If you could take them down and put them on the table next to the barrel, then they can help themselves without hassling us".

Inside the bar, all the lights were on and Genesis was playing over the audio system. After taking the last tray down and helping Alan to re-stock the shelves, he put two coffees on the bar with a carton of milk and a Tupperware tub of sugar. "Right", he said, "That's everything ready, usually it's all a bit of a rush but I finished at two today so got most of it done before you arrived. Now, our domain tonight is behind the bar serving drinks to the great unwashed. The other side of the bar is the responsibility of the Duty Corporal, which tonight is Spike Meadows, you know him?".

"Tall with a big moustache, works in the MT? Don't really know him".

"That's him, big lad, larger than life, plays rugby and does amateur dramatics. Any problems or hassle you yell for me or him; we'll sort it out".

"Okay", I said, "Thanks".

"Don't forget, you're a Corporal, the same rank as every other member. Some of them have been in for donkey's years but don't take any shit from them. And there'll be some senior ranks and officers in tonight for Jock's do but don't let them play the rank card, it's our mess and they're in here only by invitation".

"What time do we close?".

"The bar shutters come down at ten-thirty, then it's up to Spike to clear the bar area. Jock's ordered trays of sandwiches from the Airman's Mess for six o'clock and he'll put a tray behind the bar for us".

"Good, I'm starving", I said, "I went for a run at lunchtime".

"I've seen you out running, in the pool and in the gym, but you never say hi".

I could feel myself blushing.

"Sorry", he said, "Didn't mean to put you on the spot. Can you read a map?".

"What?", I said, baffled by the sudden change of subject.

"Well you can run, but can you read a map at the same time?".

"I don't know, don't see why not".

"I'm starting up a station orienteering team. The Army has said we can compete in their league. I'm going to start training sessions on Monday evenings. The Army league events are on Fridays through the winter and it's classed as military training so you'd get every Friday off if you join".

I laughed, "Somehow I can't see my Chief letting me work a four-day week".

"He's got no choice in the matter. The Station Commander is 100% behind it and is joining with his wife. It's never a bad career move to get in with the Station Commander".

"Oh, right, yes, okay then", I said grinning.

"You'll get ripped to shreds mind; it's not like cross-country running. It's through rivers, over fences, brambles, stinging nettles and mud, lots of mud. Afterwards, you lower yourself into a hot bath and it stings like hell".

"Sounds fun", I said genuinely.

"What about Volkslaufs?".

"A what?", I asked.

"Volkslauf - Peoples Run, or fun run as we'd call it. There are hundreds every Sunday morning all over Germany. You just turn up, hand over the fee, usually five Marks, run ten kilometres and get a medal or sometimes a plaque or a trophy, even if you're last. There's one next Sunday down in Geilenkirchen if you fancy joining me?"

I chuckled, "Somehow, I can't see your girlfriend being too impressed with that idea".

"Ah...", he said, "Bit of a drama in that department. Turn's out she fancied a future in a French doctor's Parisian apartment rather more than an RAF Corporal's married quarters".

"Shit, sorry", I said, "I hadn't heard". I could feel my heart thumping in my chest and stomach fluttering.

"I haven't told anyone yet. It wasn't a big surprise, I knew something wasn't right. The last couple of trips home were..., well..., awkward. We argued a lot about her wanting me to leave the RAF. So you up for it?".

I looked at my coffee and hesitated. A voice in my head told me to stop being so fucking stupid. "Yes..., yes I'd like that", I finally said, not looking up.

"Good, I'll meet you at...."

"Never fear, Spikey boy's here!", bellowed Spike Meadows as he burst through the back door. "Ooh, got the coffee on, where's mine Alan me boy? Hello love, you on with this wanker tonight? What did you do wrong?".

"This is Spike", said Alan rolling his eyes, "And this is Freckles".

"Charmed I'm sure", said Spike, taking my hand, bowing and kissing it. "Lovely name Freckles, Nordic I believe, daughter of Freck the Invincible, means 'Heart of a Reindeer', you have your mother's hair. Now, get off your arse Alan, there's a man here needs a beer".

"Can you drink as Duty Corporal?", I asked as Alan laughed and got off his stool - I'd not been clobbered for that duty yet.

"Absolutely not, totally against Standing Orders. I'll have a shot of Wood's rum as a chaser as well Alan. Who's the barrel for?".

"Jock Cameron, wetting the baby's head".

"Christ, you mean someone fucked his Mrs? She's a double-bagger if ever I saw one".

From then on, the evening went really quickly. It was massively busy but Spike kept the lid on any excesses. There had been some lewd comments and dirty jokes but nothing too bad. By ten o'clock, I had been universally re-christened 'Freckles'.

At the far end of the bar, sat on stools, two Corporals from Flight Safety were seriously drunk having been playing a game of fizz-buzz for over an hour. Gesturing me over, the taller one said, "Two Pils and two Bushmills please Freckly", which made them both laugh hysterically.

After putting their drinks down I went to take the offered ten Deutschmark note but my hand was grabbed, "Wazza fuck's these pissy little drinks? I wants doubles".

"You can't have doubles, Station Orders", I said calmly.

"Then gizzanother two singles".

"No", I said, "You've both had enough, I'm not serving you any more drinks". Pulling my hand away, amazed at my new-found confidence, I snatched the money and turned to the till to get his change.

"Fuckin' bitch!", I heard him shout behind me.

Alan moved like lightning. He streaked down the bar picking up a metal ashtray on his way. Without warning he slammed it down on the bar in front of the two drunks, making them, myself and most of the bar jump. "Enough!", he shouted in their faces, "This young lady is here as a volunteer, you WILL treat her with respect and you WILL apologise, otherwise we'll be going round the back for a wee chat".

"You can't talk to us like that!", slurred the shorter one, "It's our mess".

"Aye, and I'm on the committee. Abuse of the bar staff means one word from me and you'll be barred for a month, meaning you'll be drinking with the SACs in the NAAFI bar, is that what you want?".

The taller one was about to speak when he and his buddy were pinned to the bar by a heavyweight from behind. Spike was leaning on them saying, "Gentleman, and I use the term loosely, you've had a most enjoyable evening and have dazzled us with your wit and charm, but all good things must come to an end. May I respectfully suggest that now is the time for you to summon your carriage for transportation back to your delightful place of residence?"

Lowering his head between theirs and gripping their shoulders with his vice-like hands, he growled, "Now apologise and fuck off".

"Er..., sorry Freckles", they both mumbled before staggering out the door, leaving their drinks and change. Spike watched them go, drank both whiskeys, then turned to me and winked.

By eleven, the bar was empty and with Spike's help all the tables were wiped down, carpet hoovered and glasses washed. Sitting on stools at the bar, Alan put two litre-bottles of Mosel wine on the bar, opened one and poured five glasses. "Can you just take wine and open it?", I asked.

Alan laughed, "Listen Freckles, how many drinks were you bought tonight?".

"I've no idea", I said.

"Well, I stopped counting after twenty, and you didn't drink one, you were on water all evening - so I think the mess can afford a drop of wine. This one's for you to take back", he said, pushing the other bottle across to me.

"Thanks, but I don't like wine, and why five glasses?".

Alan took the second bottle of wine and disappeared out the back. An arm appeared in the doorway holding out a bottle of Baileys. "Yes please", I laughed.

"You'll find out about the glasses in a minute", said Spike walking behind the bar, taking two packets of crisps, opening them and shaking the contents into a pile on the carpet. Seeing my raised eyebrows he said cryptically, "He only likes smokey bacon flavoured".

"You did well tonight", said Alan pouring me a small glass of Baileys, "You were thrown in the deep end but coped better than some people who've been doing it for years".

"Actually, I quite enjoyed it", I admitted sipping my drink.

"Good", said Alan, "If you...".

"Evening all!", a voice shouted from out back, followed by two burly RAF Policemen walking through the door with the biggest, hairiest Alsatian dog I'd ever seen. "Hi Alan, all quiet, Spike?".

"Yeah, no dramas Mick", said Spike, "Care to wet your whistle?".

"Cheers", said the other Policeman, picking up a glass of wine as the dog tucked into his crisps.

"Gents", said Alan, "This is Freckles, she was helping us tonight".

They both nodded towards me. "All quiet out there tonight?", asked Spike.

"Yeah, bit of a rumble in the NAAFI earlier, some rock apes kicking off as usual but Titan here barked a couple of times and they soon backed down. Handbags at ten paces really".

After a couple more minutes of chit-chat, the Policeman drained their glasses and wished us goodnight. With all the lights off, Alan locked the back door and gate. "Well", said Spike kissing my hand again, "It's been delightful, but I'm going to love you and leave you, I can hear the Brattie Wagon calling".

"Bye Spike", we both said.

"Come on Freckles, I'll walk you back to your block".

"It's okay", I said, kicking myself as soon as I'd said it.

Thankfully, Alan said, "No way. I've never left a lady to walk home on her own in the dark and I'm not starting now". Taking my arm, we walked down the road, chatting about running and orienteering. Arriving at the block, Alan said, "I'll walk you to your door, which floor?".

"Second", I said nervously, "But men aren't supposed to be in the block after ten".

Alan just grinned.

At my door, he said, "You were good company tonight, I really enjoyed myself".

"So did I", I replied quietly, looking down, my heart thumping.

"Would it spoil things if I asked for a little goodnight kiss?".

I shook my head, then nodded, confused. Alan laughed which made me laugh as well. Cupping my face, he kissed me ever so gently. His lips were soft and warm. My lips parted. It seemed so right. My tongue touched his. An electric shock went through my body. My legs went weak. I gripped his ass. What was I doing? Was this really happening?

Eventually, we parted. "Wow!", was all Alan said. I was no longer in control. I pulled his head forwards and tried to stick my tongue down his throat. I felt my pussy muscles clench and release. Again we parted. I was breathing heavily. "I'd ah..., best be going..., the Duty Sergeant might come up the stairs any second, enjoy your Baileys", said Alan, handing me the bottle and turning to leave.

"Wait", I said, my mind in a whirl, almost in a panic, "I..., I..., don't like drinking alone". Did I just say that? Would he understand my meaning?

"Have you got any glasses?", he asked.

I shook my head.

Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out two wine glasses. I don't think I've ever smiled so wide.

Inside my room, which thankfully I'd tidied that morning, Alan poured two glasses while I put on my favourite CD - Carole King's Tapestry. After taking a sip, I said, "Dance with me?", amazed at my bravado.

Taking me gently in his arms we swayed and shuffled to the music. With my head on his shoulder, I didn't want the evening to end. I was floating. I made my decision.

"Alan?", I said quietly.

"Mmmm?", he murmured, kissing my head.

"Will you..., make love to me?"

He stepped back a little and brushed my cheek, "Sure?".

I nodded, "Positive".

I shivered as his fingers touched my bare tummy, untying the knot in my cheesecloth shirt. "I'm...., not wearing a bra", I said. I've no idea why, he'd find out soon enough.

"I know, probably why you were bought so many drinks. Every bloke in there could see the dark shape of your nipples. Do you realise how hard it is to serve beer with an erection?".

"Oh God, I didn't realise, I've never worn it before", I giggled, "I thought I detected the outline of a small sausage in your pocket".

Without a word, Alan took my hand and placed it against the front of his jeans. "Oh my!", I said in genuine surprise, "Make that a salami!".

Alan laughed and started undoing the buttons of my shirt. "Wait", I said, "Come and sit on the bed". Looking puzzled, Alan sat next to me.

Looking at him, I could feel tears welling up, "I..., I..., don't want you to expect too much, I'm..., not, you know, very experienced at this..., in fact..., to be honest...".

"You're a virgin?", asked Alan gently.

I nodded, feeling tears running down my cheeks.

Alan hugged me tightly. I'd never felt so safe and happy.

"Don't worry", he said, releasing me and looking into my eyes whilst wiping away my tears with his thumbs, "I'll be very gentle. Just say stop if it's too much, though it may hurt a little at first".

Sniffing, I shook my head, "I've not slept with anyone, but I've..., played with toys. Medically, I'm not a virgin, if you know what I mean".

Alan smiled, "That should make things a little easier. So how far..., how much...?".

"Nothing".

"Nothing? Not touched a cock?".

I shook my head, "Nor been touched".

"I hate to break the moment", he said, "But I haven't got any condoms".

"It's okay", I said, "I'm on the pill, my mum insisted when I joined up".

Alan looked at me for a long time. Finally, he took my hands. "Freckles, to give your virginity to someone is very special, a massive token of trust. I'm honoured and will never forget this night".

"Me too", I said pulling his t-shirt over his head. Suddenly, without me noticing him doing it, he had my buttons undone and was slipping my shirt off my shoulders. I could see him looking at my little boobs. "Sorry they're not bigger", I said.

Alan shook his head. He had a dreamy look. "No, no, no, they're perfect. Utterly, utterly, perfect little titties, I love them".

Dipping his head, he sucked my left nipple. "Oh fuck!", I gasped, gripping the sheets, I was surprised to hear myself cry, "Oh fuck yes!".

Smiling, Alan gently pushed me down onto my back. Lifting one leg then the other, he removed my trainers, then my little white gym socks. Locking his hazel brown eyes onto mine, he slid his hands up my legs, unbuttoned my shorts and pulled down the zip. Biting my lip, I raised my hips to allow him to slide off my shorts and panties in one movement. I was a little embarrassed but intrigued to see a wet patch on my purple panties.

Alan noticed it too. Smiling he stood and stuffed them into his jeans pocket.

In my naivety, I said, "They'll never fit you".

Alan laughed loudly, "You think I want to wear them?".

"Well, what..., I mean..., you can't mean..., oh my God..., do men do that?".

Alan nodded, "Next time you're lying in this bed, enjoying your 'toys', think of me lying in my bed, knocking one out with your panties over my face".

"Oh my God", I giggled, my hands over my face. By the time I'd removed them, Alan was down to his boxers. Just as he was hooking his fingers into the waistband, I said, "No, come here, let me".

As he stood by the bed, I leaned on my side and looked at the bulge in his boxers. Tentatively, nervously, I reached out and brushed my fingertips across the fabric. Fascinated, I watched the outline twitch as Alan gave a little moan. Before my eyes, the bulge got noticeably bigger! Oh my!

Taking a deep breath, I hooked the fingers of both hands into his waistband. Here goes, my first living, breathing cock. Edging the waistband down, I was surprised that no hairs were appearing. Further down, I could see the root of his fat cock. Down again, his balls appeared but still no hair and his downward pointing cock kept going. Suddenly it sprang free to point upwards at forty-five degrees, its large head swollen and shining.

"Jesus!", I exclaimed, "It's fucking massive!".

Alan laughed, "No it's not, it just looks that way because I shave".

"No Alan, it's big. I'm no expert, but that's got to be eight inches. Fuck!".

"Just about seven", he said.

As his boxers slid to the floor, I wrapped the fingers of my right hand around my first cock. Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply and savoured the feeling of heat and power that I held in my hand. Squeezing gently, I felt a surge of blood as it seemed to swell even more. How the hell was this going to fit inside me?

Without a doubt, what I held in my hand was the most beautiful, beautiful thing I had ever seen - the flared head, tight and red, the dark veins. Fascinated, I watched a dribble of shiny liquid ooze from the hole in the end, running down towards my fingers - the pre-come I'd read about.

I felt an irresistible urge wash over me. I was powerless. Licking my lips, I slipped them over his swollen head and down his shaft which was stretching my mouth wide. As he moaned, I held him there, not moving. All my senses were concentrating on the power of the living organ filling my mouth. The power to make my pussy pulse and leak creamy juices, the power to give orgasms, the power to create new human life.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, "You need to stop", said Alan, "Unless you still want to be a virgin when you wake up".

Releasing him, I laid back laughing and opened my legs, "Let's rectify that now, I need you inside me".

I watched as he climbed onto the standard issue RAF single bed, kneeling between my legs. How many nights had I laid in this bed fucking myself with an image of Alan in my mind? Now it really was about to happen. "Don't wait for me, I just want to feel you come inside me".

Leaning forwards to kiss me, I felt his hard cock pressing on my mound as our tongues danced and probed. Grabbing his hair, I pulled him down to my right breast. "Oh yes...", I moaned as he twirled the tip of his tongue around the hard nipple. Then he bit gently making me twist my hips and moan, "Nnnnnnnnnn...". I gripped his head and pulled him down harder.

His body slid lower letting his cock spring free between my legs, then I felt its bulbous head brush against my dripping lips. Releasing my nipple, he raised himself onto his hands and looked me in the eye. He was probing, searching. Suddenly I felt my lips part slightly. I moved against him. Smiling at me, he adjusted his position. My lips were eased gently wider, then I felt him start to stretch me. His eyes fluttered and closed. Oh God, his head was in me! He was in me! Oh dear God!

He was being so, so gentle. I hooked my heels behind his ass and forced him in a little further; maybe another inch. God, I felt so full and stretched.

"Oh Jesus you're so tight", he moaned above me, "So tight...".

"Fill me", I heard myself moan, "I want every inch of your beautiful cock in me".

Alan opened his eyes and slowly and gently slid his entire slippery length into me. I'd never felt anything like it. My arms shook as I pulled him down onto me and held him tight, my nails digging into his ass, my breath coming in frantic pants. Then, with a slight movement, he surprised me with another inch. We both cried out in unison as his tip brushed my cervix. With my pussy muscles, I squeezed his cock making him moan into my ear. My heels were raking his back as I bit into his shoulder.

I'd had orgasms with my dildo so knew what was coming. But I was wrong, so so wrong. The familiar heat and tingling started around my clit but then my vision started to blur. I screwed my eyes shut and saw stars and streaks of light tear in all directions in the blackness. I couldn't breathe, my lungs had stopped working. I tried to scream but nothing would come out. My whole body started to vibrate then went rigid, the universe was collapsing around me. I had lost all bodily control. My body arched, lifting Alan with me as my head went back, my mouth contorted in a long silent scream, my body now jerking and spasming.

As I was finally able to suck in some air, I was amazed to feel Alan's cock swell even more as he held himself deep inside me. A growl started in his throat, becoming a roar as I felt jet, after jet, after jet, of his hot cum spurt directly against my cervix.

A new sensation started somewhere in my depths. Weird. It scared me. It spread upwards. My nipples felt like they were burning. What the fuck? My arms and head began to shake as a second orgasmic tidal wave came from nowhere and swamped my senses. It hit like a truck. Every muscle in my arms and legs gripped Alan as a long, non-human scream consumed every molecule of air in my lungs, filling the room with noise.

With a few final jerks from both of us, we descended the other side of the orgasm mountain, panting like dogs, sweat running off us and dripping on the sheets. "Jesus fucking Christ!", groaned Alan between breaths. I was aware of running feet in the corridor, then banging on the door, "Ginge, Ginge, you okay?".

"Yes, Annie", I managed to shout, "Just a nightmare".

"You need a hug?".

"No, I'll be fine thanks".

"Shit woman, you scared the crap out of me", I heard Annie mutter as she walked back to her room.

Above me, I felt Alan start to shake. In seconds we were both giggling like school c***dren.

Finally, we shuffled around so we could just about fit on the bed laying on our sides facing each other. I could feel his cum oozing out of me. Alan smiled and said, "That was just amazing, but next time, can we use a double bed?".

"So, there's going to be a next time? Was I..., okay?", I asked.

"Okay? You were incredible. I've never seen a woman come like that, not twice within seconds. I'm usually good for fifteen or twenty minutes at least, but when you started to cum, God the look of absolute ecstasy on your face, it was beautiful, it just sent me over the edge Freckles. It was one of..., no, it was the best orgasm I've ever had".

"I've always fancied you, Alan".

"Really?".

I nodded stroking his hair, and said quietly, "You were my masturbating fantasy".

"Yeah? What was I doing?".

"Everything".

"Such as?".

"No, I'm not saying".

"Go on".

"No, I feel silly".

"It's perfectly okay to talk about sex. Just take a deep breath and tell me".

"Well..., okay..., but don't laugh. Me bent over a chair and you fucking me from behind, me on top riding you, me sucking your cock, you sucking my clit, sixty-nine..., and some other stuff that I'm definitely not telling you tonight".

"Wow! That's some list. Now I'll tell you something. All the time I was going out with Andrea I never strayed, not once, but if I was going to, it would have been with you".

"But you didn't know me".

"I'd watch you every time you came in the gym and if I was on lifeguard duty at the pool, which is incredibly boring by the way. It would brighten my day if you came in. Once, a few months ago, I'd been for a ten-mile evening run and I'd really pushed it hard. When I got back to the gym I was totally knackered, but I saw you setting off, so I ran about 100 yards behind you. Christ, I thought you were never going to turn around. Eventually, you looped around the missile site and headed back. bloody miles".

"Eight point two, it's one of my regular runs, I measured it on my bike".

"Fuck, I ran eighteen miles that evening, just to watch your ass".

"Don't be silly".

"Honestly. You were wearing a really tight pair of black Ron Hills".

"Oh yeah", I laughed, "My sister gave them to me. They are a bit tight. Lay on your back, I want to snuggle up to you".

With some effort we managed it without falling off, my head laying on his chest, running my fingers around his belly button. "Why do you shave down there?", I asked.

"I just find it more comfortable. Being a PTI, I'm pretty sweaty most of the time. It's easier to freshen up during the day if there's no hair, but do me a favour?".

"What?"

"Don't shave, your ginger pubes look amazing".

"Really?".

"Yup. They're just as I imagined them".

"You imagined my pubes? You're weird. What else did you imagine?".

"Well, I'll tell you. Right up until Andrea and I split, she was the only one I imagined if I was having a wank".

"I hate that word", I said.

"What would you prefer?".

"Um..., I don't know, play?".

Alan chuckled, "So, I got back here from the UK and decided to..., have a little play. My favourite scenario was I'm standing in the shower and Andrea is kneeling in front of me sucking my cock until I cum on her tits. But it wasn't working, I guess it was because of the split and the rows. I wasn't getting anywhere. Next thing I knew, I was thinking of you. My cock in your beautiful mouth. That's why I nearly came just now when you sucked me - it was a fantasy come true".

"So what did you think when I walked around the corner this afternoon?".

"I was trying to look cool on the outside, but in turmoil on the inside. Fuck, you looked so hot in those shorts and that shirt with your tummy showing and the hint of your nipples".

For the next few minutes, we just laid there. Him twirling my hair around his fingers, me with my eyes shut absently running my fingertips up and down his cock, making it stir again. It had been one hell of a day, perhaps a day that might change my life forever.

"Alan?".

"Uh huh".

"You didn't answer my question about there being next time. Will there be a next time?".

"Christ yes", he said stroking my cheek, "I'm really pissed off that I won't be able to see you tomorrow - I'm running the k**s swimming club all morning, then it's an away cricket match at Laarbruch. I won't be back 'til late".

"Does that mean..., you know..., that I'm your......, well....".

"Girlfriend?".

I nodded.

"Yes", he said, "Yes it does. I've got a serious question though", he whispered.

"What?", I said looking up at him.

"What's your name?".

"Oh, good grief!", I laughed, flopping my head back onto his chest.

"Well?".

"Olivia. Olivia Ruth Cooper".

"Olivia. I like that", he said, "So what shall we do on Sunday?".

"Nothing".

"You busy?".

"No".

"You don't want to see me?".

"Of course I do, there's nothing I want more, but I can't see you until at least Wednesday".

"Why? I don't understand".

I raised myself up onto my right elbow and looked at him. "Earlier today you said that you hadn't yet told anyone that you'd broken up with Andrea. How's it going to look if you're seen going out with me, then you tell everyone it's over with Andrea? You know what it's like around here; it'll be all over the station that I'm the bitch that ruined Andrea's life. So tomorrow, at breakfast, you start telling people it's over, then you tell anyone at swimming, then your cricket mates. Same on Sunday. On Monday when people go into work it'll quickly spread. By Tuesday everyone from the Padre to the NAAFI checkout girls will know. Wednesday we become an item".

"Shit, I hadn't thought about that. You're right though. Oh God Wednesday? How am I supposed to last 'til Wednesday without seeing you?"

"Perhaps I'll have to give you something to think about".

"Like what?", he asked.

"There's showers down the corridor.