In Olden Days

This is my first attempt at a stand alone story as previous efforts have been extensions to another writer's work. As I don't have a writer's imagination I've had to rely mostly on memory. I do like to hear from readers, even the illiterate uncouth idiots who proliferate on these pages. You know who you are.

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My name is Tim, I was born in 1938 so this all took place a very long time ago. So long ago that most readers can't remember the time, or weren't even born. The world was a very different place in the late nineteen fifties, so different that it seems like a kind of reverse science fiction, particularly in England, where I live. You might not believe this story anyway, but there's no chance at all unless you take on board a little of what life was like in those days.

It was horrible. The only saving graces were; that it was the same for all of us, so envy wasn't a problem, and it was just a little better than the previous decade. For a start, food rationing didn't end till 1954 and was a very recent memory. Oriental, or even European, food was unknown to us. English cooking was world renowned as being awful. We were a bit offended by this but, looking back, the rest of the world was right. My first attempt at eating "foreign", in 1957, was a disaster. My mate and I did something incredibly brave for a pair of teenagers (not that this word had been coined then). We took the overnight train from the Midlands to London to see the big city. It was amazing. Especially so when we found a Chinese Restaurant in Soho, probably the only one in the UK. The height of sophistication! We ordered what was probably the most authentic Chinese meal I've ever had. Beautifully served on many little porcelain dishes, the smell, sight and taste were utterly revolting. Long after that we had a standing joke that, if we smelled a foul odour, one of us would say "Chinese food" and we'd fall about laughing. I'd love that meal now.

Socially, it was pretty well unchanged since the First World War, never mind the one we'd just finished. A night out meant going to the pictures (movies) or to a dance. Drinking was a problem for those who liked a drink, as I did even then. No supermarkets. The only place to buy alcohol was the pub. Pubs were owned by breweries and each only sold the beer of that brewery. A lot of it was crap.

The pub only opened for two hours during the day and from 6.00 pm to 10.00 pm. Laughably, the last drink was served at a second before 10, and all glasses were collected at a second after 10. This was known to cause friction, and bad tempered drunks spilled into the street all at the same time.

Everything was drab. The few cars on the road were black, clothes were in dull colours. The plastics that gave us bright carry bags, rain coats, and so on had not yet been invented. Young men had no place in society. I mentioned earlier that teenagers were not yet invented, there was no teenage culture, language or market. We were just reproductions of our fathers, dressing the same and pretty much acting the same.

My own life was a part of this. I had a good education at a severely selective, though Local Authority managed, Grammar School, and I thought of myself as advanced for my years and pretty sophisticated. The reality was that I was incredibly naive.

Sex did not exist. Well of course it did, but it wasn't seen, talked about in polite society, or recognised in any educational context. 'Dirty Mags' had just begun to be imported from the USA and sold under the counter in seedy back street shops. These seemed pretty exciting but wouldn't be recognised today. All the ladies, who were clearly not very young, wore big knickers and had black stars printed across their nipples and navels.

In our world any young lady who became pregnant, and couldn't get a fellow to marry her immediately, was going to have a pretty rough time. She could expect, at best, social ostracism, probably the forcible removal of her baby for adoption, and even, in some cases, incarceration in a Mental Institution on the grounds that she must be unhinged to allow herself to get into such a predicament. Meantime, the father of the child just vanished into the background. I said you wouldn't believe it!

Lads bragged about their sex lives, which, like all bragging was doubtless far more in the mouth than in reality. Girls didn't admit to anything. Looking back, it's a mystery to me that any girl would go for it in view of the likely penalty. Some of them did though. One such in our neighbourhood was called Gwen the Bike (everybody rode her). She provided my first grope. It was in a dark alleyway, (we had a lot of these because street lighting was still extremely sparse). I was about fifth in line and I got to squeeze a naked breast. This was pretty wild. For years after that I associated tits with the smell of vinegar, because the lads before me had been eating fish and chips, out of newspaper wrappings, with their fingers.

Coming back to the present, it did surprise me quite recently, whilst talking about our youth, over a beer with a bunch of similar Oldies, that when I confessed to having been a 21 year old virgin, that turned out to be a pretty average experience for the group.

I hope that's enough background and, if you're still with me, I'll get on with the story.

So, I was 21, I'd had a few girlfriends although this wasn't a major part of my life. Generally I preferred to go to the pub with my mates. My groping had progressed to the extent that my fingers had become acquainted with most of the interesting parts of female anatomy. I'd even enjoyed slim cool fingers wrapped round my dick. That was it though. I'd never heard of cunnilingus or fellatio or anal sex, and wouldn't have believed any of them if I had..

Then I met Ann. She was a gorgeous blond with a curvaceous body and of such beauty that I would normally have regarded her as being too far out of my league to approach. The circumstances were special though. I mentioned earlier that pubs closed at 10 pm: well, we were no more ready for bed at that time than we would be now, so people had parties. My mother, a single parent, was to be away for the Easter Holiday leaving me with a party venue, i.e. a whole house for a whole weekend. My special mate and I spent a Saturday lunchtime in the pub planning how to staff this party. Blokes could be relied upon to turn up in great numbers, and a few might bring girls, but overall there would be a shortage of the fairer sex, there always was. So, when the pub closed we went to a coffee bar to chat up girls. Nothing particularly new in that, but this time we were on a mission. Every time a pair of girls came in (they ALWAYS came in pairs) we descended on them with an invitation to this fabulous party. This USP, plus the beer I'd drunk, gave me more confidence than usual and I had none of my usual shyness. Our success was surprising. We got about eight promises. When Ann came in with her friend Barbara, I went for her with all charm firing. It seemed to work and we spent the rest of the afternoon chatting. I was in no doubt as to my preference and George, who was a far more accomplished fanny magnet than I, was gentleman enough to concentrate on the ugly one and leave Ann to me. She couldn't get to the party but we made a date, just she and I, for the following week. I couldn't believe my luck.

Thus began my first serious courting.

I was ready to lose my virginity, but had little idea how to go about it. Ann was going to make me work for it. It took a few weeks but eventually she helped me in. It turned out to be easier than I'd feared and I took to it in a big way.

We were an exclusive couple from the start and I had no doubt that I was in love. Her parents had some reservations about me because they thought I was a bit posh. I had a car! (I hadn't really but my mother had and she let me borrow it in the evenings). By contrast, my mother adored Ann and was as proud of her as I was.

Our courtship progressed predictably and Ann didn't become pregnant although we took frightful risks. I considered myself to be quite a stud, though our sex was exclusively missionary position, and neither oral nor anal were ever mentioned. I'd never seen her naked. Did I mention that I was naive?

After a year had passed we talked about going away on holiday together, just the two of us. MAJOR! The parents were approached and gave their blessing. Sleeping arrangements were not discussed as it was self evident that we would book two single rooms.

A week in Bed and Breakfast accommodation in Guernsey was booked, plus, to the amazed envy of our friends, a flight in an aeroplane. For non Brit readers, Guernsey is one of the Channel Islands, in the Atlantic well south of England and a lot nearer to France.

Ann bought a bikini. These had recently reached England and were thought to be daring. At that time though they were quite modest with big knickers and coverall bras.

The day came. We caught a bus to Birmingham Airport and, without any of the delay and fuss of modern air travel climbed up into our 'Pionair'. This was a wartime C47 Skytrain or Dakota, only with seats put in. It had no soundproofing or pressurisation and was a totally uncomfortable experience. Ann was quite ill.

Guernsey is very small and it's only town, St Peter Port, is also small. It took no time to find our B & B, or indeed anything else.

Ann's bedroom turned out to be identical to mine and immediately above. I tested the stairs for squeaks and they passed. Did I mention naive? The thought of sleeping together simply did not arise, our life's conditioning wouldn't allow it. I did though, go to her room to help her unpack.

For the first time I removed every stitch of her clothing and we made love in full comfort. Still missionary, but marvelous.

Each day we went to a different beach. Being an island it has many. We were desperately short of money and sitting on a beach was free. We swam. We tried surfboarding, without much success as we could afford only one go. Mostly we just sat and enjoyed the sun. Ann became quite brave and would roll down the top of her bikini bottoms to expose more of her tummy. Each day it moved further down until there was imminent danger of some pubic hair peeping over. This was obviously the limit.

On the fourth day we were on a small enclosed and uncrowded beach when our life was forever changed.

A man walked along the beach in front of us. He was a lot older than us, possibly in his late twenties, he might even have been thirty. Tall and dark with wavy hair, he was so tanned that we imagined him to be an Islander. He was very muscular and was wearing the smallest swimming trunks we'd seen. Pretty impressive all round. As he passed us he flashed a brilliant smile of perfect white teeth and made some friendly remark before walking on.

We watched him walk away and I thought Ann was looking rather particularly at his bum. Nothing was said though. Twenty minutes later he was walking back towards us. As Ann had her eyes shut I nudged her and said, "He's coming back." Ann didn't ask who, but I noticed her move her position slightly and her breasts magically became a little more prominent. I was quite entertained.

As he approached it was apparent that he was heading directly at us and not passing by. His 10,000 watt smile beamed towards us and, as he arrived he bent to shake my hand, and then Ann's and said "I've surveyed the entire beach very thoroughly and you two are the only interesting people to be found, may I sit with you?" At the same time, and without awaiting an answer, he plonked himself on the sand. He was so charming we could do no other than smile a welcome. In no time we seemed to be great friends and were talking animatedly about our life in the English Midlands and his on the island. The afternoon passed rapidly and, though we were both a little reluctant to leave Pete, as he'd introduced himself, our evening meal was calling. We were starting to gather our few things together when he suggested meeting again the next day, when he would like to show us another another beach. We agreed and arranged a time and meeting place.

During the evening we ate and had a couple or three beers whilst chatting about the day and about Pete. Did I mention I was naive? I didn't feel remotely threatened and was looking forward to meeting Pete again just as much as was Ann.

That night I sneaked up the stairs to Ann's room, we had our usual sex and I sneaked back down to my own to sleep.

Next day we met Pete and found he'd come in a car. This was nice, we could go anywhere on the island, but, as we knew nothing about the best places we just let Pete take us where he wanted. The beach he took us to was pretty much like the one where we'd met him, but I suppose most beaches are pretty much like that, so we settled down for the day. It was all very relaxed. We chatted, dozed in the sun, chatted some more, had an ice cream, just like an average couple on holiday except that there were three of us.

Pete gradually asserted a position as 'leader of the pack'. We were happy to be lead as he had all the local knowledge, all the interesting chat, and a fascinating persona that had us, to a degree, in awe. We felt privileged that he should want to spend so much time with such an ordinary couple. When he briefly left us for nature's needs we talked about him and had similar views of our indebtedness.

After lunch, from a caravan stall, we returned to the beach and settled down again.

The sun was pretty hot and Ann was doing her trick of rolling down her bikini knickers to expose as much as possible for tanning. Pete watched this with amusement. "It could go lower you know." he said. Ann giggled, "Oh no, hairs will start showing if it goes any lower." Pete smiled "That can be fixed you know." What do you mean?" asked Ann. "I'm a barber," replied Pete "I'm an expert in the painless and neat shaving of body hair." "You can't mean that!" "Surely I do. It has a lot of advantages you know, you'll feel comfortable, it's hygienic, Tim will love how you look, and he won't get hairs stuck between his teeth." This just cracked us up. We fell about laughing and it was a while before we composed ourselves. Then Ann asked, with a twinkle in her eye "And would you do it for me here on the beach?" Then it got interesting: "No, of course not," he said, "my flat is just behind us, in fact the car is parked right outside it and we can walk there in three minutes."

I couldn't believe the way this conversation was going and still thought it was a great joke.

Then Ann asked "how long would it take?" Pete didn't turn a hair, it was just as if he'd expected a positive response. "It depends on the strength of the growth. Most blondes have downy hair that's very easy to remove, so ten minutes max."

"I'm not really a blonde," Ann giggled, "but it is pretty soft." This was news to me. Not that it was pretty soft, I knew that, but that she wasn't really blonde. I thought the difference in colour was because the hair on her head was exposed to the sun. Ditto the darker tinge to the roots.

Whilst I was pondering on this I found we'd stood up, collected our stuff, and were walking up the beach, still wearing our costumes. I had no recollection of agreeing to this, it just seemed to happen.

His flat was small but well appointed, smart and clean, and we were quite impressed. He sat us at his table and offered us a drink of tea, coffee or beer. My weakness had been exposed so I had a beer. Pete meantime busied himself getting his gear together. It appeared that he'd been telling the truth as he had a full complement of Barber equipment.

"I'm going to need your help for this Tim." said Pete. What? Had we agreed to do it? I didn't remember that either. In fact the whole thing seemed to be getting away from me.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked weakly.

"Come in here. both of you." said Pete briskly as he walked through a door into what was obviously his bedroom. He got busy plumping pillows into a pile at the top of the bed and spreading towels.

"Nip up here Tim." he instructed, "Ease yourself back against the pillows and prepare to hold Ann steady."

I did as told and lay back, very comfortably against the pillows. Pete then directed Ann to sit in front of me between my legs, leaning back against my chest, with her legs towards the end of the bed. She'd removed her sandals so all she was wearing was her bikini.

Ann snuggled in. I could smell her hair and nuzzle her neck. My arms were around her naked waist. Naturally I started to get an erection and it was uncomfortably trapped. Ann giggled again, she'd been doing rather a lot of that these past few minutes. "Why don't you get comfortable?" she asked, easing herself forward. I don't know why I wasn't covered in shyness and embarrassment, but I pushed her forward to make room and removed my swimming trunks. Ann lay back again and we wriggled until we found a perfect fit. All the time Pete was watching us with a friendly, totally non-threatening smile.

"You will need to make her feel comfortable and secure. Hold her steady. A good way might be to hold her breasts."

I quite liked this idea so I grabbed them and started to give them a little massage. Getting into the mood, I realised it would take only one snap of a fastener to undo the bra. In an instant it was gone and we were skin to skin.

"That's the way, Ann, why don't you twist round and share a kiss? That will relax you even more."

She did. I bent forward, still holding her breasts and our lips met. As our mouths opened and our tongues linked I continued to stroke her breasts and rub her nipples. My dick was really hard and was resting against her lower back with my balls just above the crack of her bottom. We'd never done this before. I liked it. So, apparently did Ann. We carried on kissing, stroking, and slightly undulating our bodies together until Pete spoke again.

"Time to start." without another word he bent over the end of the bed, took a grip on either side of Ann's bikini bottom and started to pull. Ann lifted her bottom to help, which eased the pressure for a moment on my dick. As she settled back I was even more comfortable. I was really enjoying this! Did I mention I was naive?

Now Ann was entirely naked, lying back against me, also naked, whilst Pete was kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed looking up at Ann's body. I couldn't see anything of Pete below the waist. I presumed he was still wearing his trunks because I hadn't noticed him remove them. Mind you, I had been somewhat otherwise engaged recently.

Pete had a pair of scissors in his hand. "You have to open your legs Ann, so I can get the rough off." he ordered. Ann complied without hesitation and he snipped away for a few seconds.

"There you go! That didn't hurt a bit did it?" he proclaimed jovially as he brought up from the floor at the bottom of the bed a pan of warm water, a shaving brush and a piece of soap.

"Wider." he said as he began to slosh foam around all over her crotch. "Now lift your legs so I can reach lower." This was a surprise to me. Her anus was down there. We didn't talk about things like that except in rude and ribald male only company.

Ann lifted her legs and grasped them just below the knee to support them. A little more sloshing about and then Pete produced a razor. This was terrifying. Not electric, not safety, a great bare blade. "Hold her tight." he told me, "Keep still." he told her, then he started to work. First her lower stomach, then each groin, then inwards towards her private parts. I began to relax again as he clearly was the expert he claimed to be. Of course, I couldn't see much of what he was doing once he got below the round of her stomach, but from the angle of his arms I guessed he was shaving her labia, and then he went lower, to her anus. Ann was just a little tense but was concentrating on keeping still.