The Airman

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A Korean War airman on leave and a lonely housewife.
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For Don, who has always been my #1 fan. Thanks for the idea, the historical background, and the willingness to let your mostly fictionalized past be posted here online. Thanks, hunny! :oD

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I met him in a bar off 6th St. Things were different then. It was the middle of the Korean War, 1951, and in our little town of Bridgeport there was enough patriot spirit left over from World War II that every available and able-bodied male was either a veteran or a serviceman. Some of the women were in service too, as WACs. You know, the Women's Army Corps. Like Jeannie who worked at her husband's garage- he came back from service in France, found out she ran the place better than he did, and with her WAC training she fixed cars better, too! That was a hoot-n'-holler, the fight that came out of that. She was nice to him and "kept him on"- in his own business! Anyway, I digress. You'll have to forgive an old woman for rambling down memory lane, sweetheart. Gramma Cora had happier times then. I just want you to know where you really come from- I tried to tell your mama once and she wouldn't stand for it. Oh, no, she wouldn't! I suppose it was to be expected, since she'd grown up thinkin' your Grandpapa Rich was her real daddy. And he did take a shine to her- absolutely adored your mama, loved her like his own. Never knew she wasn't, in fact. I'm going to tell you about your real grandpapa now, honey, so listen up.

It was in September of 1951, and I was having a little time to myself at a bar after work- it was my 28th birthday. I worked as a secretary for a stuck-up, pompous idiot. And I got paid pretty well for it. Anyway, I remember him coming up to the bar, dressed up in his Air Force uniform. Now, seeing as how he was a serviceman like my husband and looked really lonely- I offered to buy him a drink. After all, I was lonely too. We got to talking a little after the initial "Thank you's" and "nice to meet you's". He was really a pretty nice guy. I think you would have liked him. He was smart, funny, and very handsome. Those silly movie stars in that movie "Pearl Harbor" wouldn't have had anything on him if they'd been standing side by side. That's the best thing about the genuine article. It's always better. Anyway, I found out he had no place to stay, and since Richard was away dropping bombs on little Asian heads I invited Dan (that was the mystery soldier's name) to stay in the unused study.

All he had in the world was a duffel and $50, and that had to last until he got home to Ohio for his month-long leave. I wasn't going to take money from this poor man! No, sir, that would have been unpatriotic of me! But I had noticed the way he was looking at me. Your granny used to be pretty sexy, back in the day. Skinny little waist, great butt, size C breasts, and let's just say they didn't call me "Legs" at work for nothing. I told Dan he could pay me by helping out around the house. That evening he hauled trash for me, dried dishes, and helped me clean out my refrigerator- he sure ate a lot for a skinny boy! I found out he was 22, that's 6 whole years younger than me. And he was eyeing me all the while, too. Eventually, I said there was one thing I needed his help with more than anything else.

I pulled him to my bedroom and said I couldn't reach the light in the closet. When he had his back turned, I unbuttoned my dress and dropped it to the floor, then I let my slip slide down to join it. He turned around, and his breath caught right in the middle of him telling me that there was nothing wrong with the bulb. I stepped out of the puddle of my clothes and walked toward him. I laughed because he started stripping like a 13-year-old heading for his favorite swimming hole. He was in nothing but his cotton-white boxer shorts when he walked the few remaining feet to me, pulled me close, and kissed me. I'd never felt such hunger for a woman from anyone in my life! His mouth consumed mine, his arms coiled like a snake around me, and I felt like I was drowning in his passion. He eased up and played with me some, caressing my arms and back, his tongue flicking lightly over my lips.

When I moaned, he took the opportunity and thrust his tongue inside my mouth. His hands reached for the clasp of my bra and I stopped him, then navigated his hands down until they were at the clasp of my garter belt. I felt my garter belt loosen as he pulled his lips from mine, and then he, my garter belt, and my panties slid down my body. They were pooled at my feet, and he was kneeling in front of me. That marvelous tongue of Dan's went up between my thighs. Pretty soon I was battening down the hatches of my hands on his head to keep from drowning in the stormy orgasm his U.S.S. PussyLicker was leaving in it's wake. I swooned, and he caught me. He picked me up like it was nothing and carried me to the bed my husband had assembled himself.

We lay together on the bed. He was fascinated with my breasts. He was rubbing them lightly, squeezing them. He whispered his lips over them. He nibbled the tips of my nipples. It seemed an eternity of pleasure for me, and all over the lace and satin of my brassiere. He tried to take it off, and believe me he was creative, but I wouldn't let him. Finally he couldn't take anymore- teasing me was torture for him as well. He kneeled on the bed that my husband and I had shared, removing his boxers to let me see his member. It was a little longer and thinner than my husband's, but with a bigger head than I had ever seen. He used this head to prolong my angonizing pleasure and rubbed it along my slit. He drew little circles with his cockhead around my clit and slid it so slow it was barely moving toward my hole. I was thrusting upward , but he kept his hand on my abdomen- I wasn't going to get penetrated until he decided I was. Goodness, how that turned me on! My lower mouth was watering at the thought of his penis inside of me, and my upper mouth was making a good deal of noise. I went dead silent the second he thrust into me, my breath taken away by the rush of orgasm crushing down on me like a tidal wave.

He started slowly, missionary style. As he became more excited, his hands came up to my breasts and he begged my to take my bra off, but I wouldn't. That just made him shove himself harder into me and fondle my breasts more. This rough play was getting me hot again, too, and I was close to cumming yet again. My husband never took me with such force. Rich had always made love to me gently, like a delicate glass flower set to shatter any moment. Dan would have none of that sweetness, and I found I didn't want it. Dan forced me onto my side, despite my protestations, and lifted my top leg straight up. He straddled my lower leg and pushed into me. His loins were grinding on my clit, and the head of his dick was hitting every sensitive spot I had. He mauled my tits and thrust faster and harder until the bed was thumping the wall so hard we were crumbling plaster. His grunts were loud, low, and sexy as he came in me. I felt his seed hit the entrance to my womb and moaned as I passed out from sexual overload.

When I came to the next morning, he was in the kitchen making breakfast. I was still mostly naked as we sat down to breakfast at my kitchen table. He asked why, since I obviously had big and beautiful tits, I wouldn't let him see them. I said they were Rich's favorite part of me, and I should save something just for him. He smiled, we had breakfast. We kissed inside my front door, and he fingered me to orgasm. We wished each other all the best. That was the last I saw of him. Fortunately Rich came back from his tour of duty the next week. He'd been shot on a jump, and was more than happy to let me ride him until he came. I had a blood test done, and no way could your mama have been Rich's. I was B-type, and so was Rich, but your mama is an AB, and that didn't come from us. Neither did that light brown hair- Rich was a blonde, and I used to be a redhead before I went all gingery. Anyway, now you know your roots, mostly. Best sex I ever had in my life, too...

Hey now, young man, just what do you think you're doing? You leave your old Gramma Cora alone! Don't you touch those panties, they're staying where they are! You get your tongue away from- ooh... Mm, you're definitely Dan's grandson! Is it all right if I leave my bra on?

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 19 years ago
wagon tongue

Not much of a story, but I enjoyed it. It brought back memories. At the time of the story, I was in Hawaii in the Air Force and with all the Army in Korea, the W W E C was in full swing. I didn't paricipate but observed MANY similar incidents.

jmbasquiat_fanjmbasquiat_fanabout 19 years agoAuthor
Free speech- a double-edged sword...

This author is a proud sponsor of not joining the military if you feel it's not right. Real patriotism is having the guts to do as you feel is best, even if you defy your government/laws/society to do it. Please see the histories of Susan B. Anthony, Ghandi, Frederick Douglas, the British Suffragettes, and Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Thank you, anonymous, for proving we are free to say as we please (and for the odd praise of those who felt it was their duty to fight wars to keep it that way).

AnonymousAnonymousabout 19 years ago
Oh well,

At least the son of a bitch that knocked granny up wasn't a fucking 4F or a draft dodger.

Granny was an old cheating slutress but grandpa was a war hero.

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