Memories of a Baby Boomer

Sex and its many varied preferences are not something that we are born with a knowledge of, rather, it is a combination of several factors. Some are inbuilt and no matter what we do, we cannot change them, they are with us for life. Others we acquire due to our environment, our families, and the things that we see and hear during our formative and then teenage years.

Born at the end of the war, my family was no different to thousands of others. Son's, brothers, husbands, and fathers had gone off to fight with sadly, many of them never returning. When I did start school aged four and a half, more than a quarter of the pupils had fathers who had never returned or relatives killed in the bombing. We only knew what our mothers told us and so each of us was convinced and believed that our dad's had died fighting the enemy. It wasn't until later in life that I finally found out that in my case, that wasn't even remotely true.

I lived in London's east end with my mother and grandmother, a street full of terraced houses commonly known as "Two up and two downs". Downstairs there was a living room and a kitchen, and upstairs two bedrooms. The house was lit by gas and heated by the large fireplace in the front room. The toilet was situated in the yard, a tiny brick outhouse in which you used cut up squares of newspaper to wipe your bum until proper toilet paper stopped being in short supply.

In my early years and without a bathroom, the only recourse several times a week was to get out the old tin bath, place it in front of the fire and fill it with hot water. There was a hierarchy on bath nights, usually because mum and gran would be going out dancing up the Palais. I would be plonked in first and scrubbed to within an inch of my life before being taken next door to Lucy Kelly's.

With me out of the way, gran and mum would then take their leisurely ablutions before donning their finery and drawing lines on the back of their legs to simulate nylons if they had not managed to obtain any from one of the local spivs.

Resplendent in their best dresses, they would come and say goodnight before setting off for an evening on the town. Aunt Lucy, actually no relation to us, was a spinster I had been told, whatever one of those was. The notion in my head of her dancing around in circles in her front room and getting dizzy puzzled me for years. Sometimes I would be collected later on that night, but if mum, gran, or both of them "pulled" I would spend the night at Miss Kelly's, sleeping in her spare bedroom. It mattered little to me whether I was in her house or my house, she was like a second mum, and I would happily drift off to sleep wherever I was.

London had taken a pasting during the war, but those first twelve years were the best times of my life. The streets were our playground as there was very little traffic about and later on, we discovered the bombsites and derelict buildings, exploring and rummaging through peoples belongings which had been abandoned. The girls were left to play skipping and hopscotch while we lads took up our wooden guns and went in search of the enemy, never returning with prisoners.

At school, I slowly progressed through the first few classes. Our fifth-year teacher was a young woman who went by the name of Miss Cummings, a name that we lads never failed to appreciate and find funny. To be honest, I was smitten by her, she was young, she was pretty, and I suppose in my eyes she was perfect. I did exceptionally well in her class for no other reason than I wanted to please her. That's all it was, we lads never thought of females sexually, even though we would use words we had heard without realising their true meaning.

That winter was a cold one with plenty of snow. It did not stop my mother or grandmother from going out and on those cold chilly nights when I stayed next door, I would be invited into Aunt Lucy's bed for added warmth. Dressed in my cotton pyjamas, she would have on her long white nightdress and together we would snuggle under the covers as we watched the snowflakes fall from the night sky through the open curtains.

I looked forward to those nights, houses were cold in those days, the only room with any warmth being the front room with its fire and that extra body in a bed made all the difference on a freezing night. There was never any impropriety, in a way I suppose, she treated me as if I were her son and the next morning there would always be sweets, toffee or biscuits to take home with me.

It was just before I left school that I found out that my father had been a GI who had been repatriated before he realised that mum was pregnant. There had been no notification of my grandfather's demise, he had simply not returned home. I suppose lots of men did that, they had travelled the world and experienced many different things, why would they return to their dreary existence when they could simply disappear and start again. Gran had given birth to my mother aged eighteen and mum had given birth to me when she was nearly seventeen, which meant that as my eighteenth birthday approached, mum was only thirty-four and gran was fifty-two, both of them still strikingly attractive women.

Up until the age of ten I had shared my mother's room, her in the double bed and me in a single, but suddenly and for no reason that I could understand, things changed, mum and Aunt Lucy reaching an arrangement as I began to sleep in Miss Kelly's spare room each night.

At the age of eighteen, I discovered the delights of local girls, happy for a fumble down some back alley or in the park after dark. But it was exceedingly rare that you managed to get any more than that without some kind of commitment. The war years had made it easy for young women who found themselves in the family way, there was always the excuse that their menfolk were off fighting. But with hostilities finished, the stigma returned, and woe betides any young woman who found herself pregnant without a young man to walk her down the aisle.

Growing up, we lads never associated with the girls on the street if we could help it, the women of our childhood were always far older than us, parents, teachers, neighbours, these were the women who were part of our lives.

When at last, I reached that magical age where the world was finally unlocked, I had been down the local with a few friends to celebrate. With hindsight, I was grateful to Miss Cummings, she had spurred me on, and I had done well at school even after I moved from her class. I had got a job as a junior accounts clerk when I left school, being sharp and quick-witted meant I quickly progressed and by eighteen, I was earning good money compared to what my friends were paid.

Rocking up at Aunt Lucy's after the pub, I let myself in. As a consequence of my spending so much time there nowadays, I had been given my own key and it was with quite a bit of fumbling that I managed to get it into the lock and open the door. She was still up and about when I entered, I wasn't drunk, honest, but I will admit to being more than merry. There was something different about her tonight I concluded, but I just couldn't put my finger on it until I suddenly realised that never before had I seen her wearing make-up. Despite her age, my beer-fuelled eyes found her attractive, and I was inclined to dance with her as music played from the large radio over in the corner. It wasn't my type of music; it was the music of the older generation. New groups and music were springing up, music that was faster, sexier, and aimed at us teenagers. This was the slower big band sounds coming out of the speaker as I took her hand and we shuffled around her front room until, for some unfathomable reason, I decided that it was a good idea to kiss her.

Believe me, it was as though I had unleashed an animal. As our lips met, her arms went around my neck, and she thrust her small breasts and her groin against mine. It was not as though she was a stranger to me, she was someone I had known all my life and felt relaxed with, which was probably why within a few seconds, my erection was pushing back against her.

'I couldn't think what to get you as a birthday present,' she whispered as we broke apart and she took my hand, leading me up to the bedroom we had shared on and off when I was younger and slept over.

Tonight, though was different, in the past I had never seen her dressing or undressing, when I was young, I would get undressed in the spare room and she would already be in her nightdress by the time I entered and shared her bed.

The light had to be out, of course, I was eighteen, she was a woman in her forties and perhaps embarrassed that I might not appreciate her body the same. She need not have worried, I was under no illusions that Lucy's body would have changed and aged, just the same as my mum and gran.

She helped me to unbutton her dress and ease it from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor while I slid the straps of her full-length slip down her arms, allowing it to follow the dress and leaving her stood in bra, panties, suspenders, and stockings which I could just about manage to make out in the darkened room. I feared she was going to rip my shirt off as she scrabbled at its buttons before fumbling with my trousers and pushing them to the floor along with my undies. I must have looked a bit of an idiot with my pants around my ankles, but it did not seem to bother her as once again she thrust herself against me, my naked erection now pressed against her belly.

Her lips tasted sweet, her mouth grinding against mine as she raised my hands and placed them on her breasts. I was eager now, pushing her bra up and out of my way as her small tits popped free, my fingers massaging the soft flesh and feeling her hard nipples pushing into the palms of my hands. Having discarded what was left of our clothing, I joined her on the bed, Lucy pushing me onto my back as she straddled my hips and rubbed her fanny against my throbbing shaft. I was still inexperienced and allowed her to take the lead as she raised herself, fumbled for my cock and I felt it's head rub against her pussy lips before she lowered her bottom, calling out with glee as its length filled her cunt.

Bouncing up and down on my shaft, she leant forward, her nails digging into my shoulders and raking my chest as I continued to caress and squeeze her tits until she pulled my head from the pillow and asked me to suck her nipples. With unerring patience, she showed me where and how to touch her to make the experience longer-lasting and more intense. Pounding her fanny rapidly, she screeched, the sound loud enough to wake the dead as she orgasmed, and then cried out again seconds later as my cock filled her flue with my hot spunk, both of us spent.

Laying together later she instructed me to take a trip the next morning, 'You need to visit the barbers,' she said smugly.

Running my hand over my hair, I didn't think it felt too bad, lots of blokes were starting to wear their hair longer nowadays. She couldn't stop laughing as she tried to explain. 'I'm still young enough to have children, and you're not old enough to be a father yet.'

It struck me as to how lucky I had been, there had been a couple of girls and I suddenly thought of the implications if either of them had said they were pregnant.

Back then, the barber's was where you got your condoms. After a haircut and providing you were old enough, he would always ask, 'Anything for the weekend, Sir?'

You could get them from the chemist, but by going in there, you stood every chance of getting a female assistant and coming away with yet another new toothbrush. I made the trip the next morning, the first time feeling embarrassed. But after a while, I became a regular and it became a standing joke between him and me. I would pop my head around the door, and he would always say the same thing.

'You back for more? I'm sure you must be getting my share.'

I would pocket the condoms and hand the money over, other men sitting and waiting for their haircuts would wink or look envious. It was like a badge of honour which said loud and proud, 'I'm getting some.'

After that first time with Lucy, I never went anywhere in the future without a supply in my pocket. I wasn't a kid anymore, not even a teenager, I had shagged a woman older than my mother and had satisfied her, from now on, I was a man.

Although that night had been the first time with her, it certainly wasn't the last. She was insatiable and I often wondered why she had never managed to find a man of her own. If most blokes knew what she was like in bed, I'm sure there would have been a queue outside her door. She was reasonably looking with a slim figure but in bed, she was happy to do and try anything and over the next two years and although I would occasionally get my end away elsewhere, I always returned to Lucy's every night as she taught me how to arouse, satisfy and respect a woman.

I must have been twenty when gran got the letter, it said we were being moved from our home to a new house five or six miles away. The look on my face said it all as I declared vehemently that I was not moving.

'Where are you going to live?' Gran asked.

'Next door with Aunt Lucy,' I declared. There was no way that I was going to leave her or her sexual appetite yet. Gran laughed loudly and I wondered afterwards if she had an inkling that something was going on between me and the spinster next door.

'Lucy's moving as well, you know. The all-bloody street's moving you sodding idiot, they are pulling all these old houses down.' I was dumbstruck, I had spent my childhood and my teenage years on these streets, and I knew every inch of them and all of our neighbours, but at least Lucy would not be left behind, for which I was eternally thankful.

Over the next few months, families began to move out, the new houses were posh, at least compared to what we were used to living in. The new road contained, two-, three- and four-bedroomed homes, each with a bathroom and an inside toilet. The fire in the living room heated water which was stored in a tank upstairs so there was more or less hot water on tap. There were electric lights in each room and to make everything a little bit more special, Lucy got a house just around the corner. Some on the street who had owned their homes previously were given one of the new houses whilst others who had rented, now paid money to the council rather than a landlord.

After the war, mum had begun training as a nurse and was now working in one of the big hospitals. Once a month she would be expected to do a nightshift over the weekend, and it was on one of those occasions that I ended up at home with gran. Whilst I now had a bedroom of my own in the new house, I still spent quite a lot of my time around at Lucy's, some evenings and especially nights would see me there. But this week she was away for a few days visiting her sister and that was why I was at home.

In the corner of our new living room was gran's pride and joy, a brand-new television set. I'd been out for an hour or two and came home just as her programme was finishing.

'Sit down. I want to talk to you,' she said. Dutifully, I took my seat in the big armchair by the fire, wondering what gran wanted.

'What's going on between you and Lucy Kelly?' she asked, leaving me dumbstruck and surprised for a moment. 'How do you mean?' I finally responded.

'You spend more time there than you do here nowadays, are you sleeping with her?' I think my expression made it obvious to gran that I was and so I made no attempt to deny it.

I've got to admit that gran did not seem surprised, 'She's a lot older than you, what's the attraction?' she asked. 'I hope you are taking precautions?' I knew exactly what she meant by "precautions," as I nodded my head.

Back then, people would have put it down to my upbringing or perhaps the lack of a father figure, but I could not see a problem with two people having sex. In my mind, it mattered little that a woman was older than a man or that a man was older than a woman. There was no reason I could see why any man and woman needed to be of a similar age. So long as they both wanted to be together and no one got hurt, I found that perfectly reasonable. Times were changing and no longer did we accept our parent's views on society as the code we should follow. I was having sex with Lucy because I found her attractive and the sex was good, presuming that her reasoning was the same as mine. Was I in love with her, of course not, no more than she was in love with me, it was simply great sex!

I tried to explain this to gran, although I don't know if I made a good job of it. Some of what I said I remembered thinking later, came out sounding all wrong.

'You're an older woman gran, and yet you are still extremely attractive. So, what would be wrong with you and me sleeping together if we wanted to? It's only sex at the end of the day. If I fancy you and you fancy me, who's to tell us that it's wrong.' I had simply been using Gran as an example, I hadn't been insinuating that I wanted to sleep with her, but I did notice her eyebrows go up slightly when she heard that.

Interrogation over with, she left it at that as she returned to the television. It was only a little later, just before she went up to bed that she asked.

'What you said before. Would you fancy me?'

Now, I had been brought up to be respectful to my elders, polite, well-mannered, and always to tell the truth. And that is what I did, telling her the truth, but from my perspective. Now in her fifties, she still had a good body and as I've said, she was an attractive woman. I'd seen her with and without make-up, dressed and occasionally, in her underwear. Taking everything into consideration, if she had not been my grandmother, would I have fancied her, the answer I supposed, would be yes!

So that is what I told her, not all the stuff that had flashed through my mind, just plain and simple, 'Yes, why shouldn't I, your still good looking.'

Nothing more was said as she trundled off to her bed, leaving me to watch the tv a little longer although at that time of night there was nothing much on. Bored, I switched everything off and went upstairs, folding my clothes and hanging them up in the wardrobe before climbing into bed naked and reaching for my book. I must admit to feeling strange, I had become used to frequently sharing a bed with another human being and despite having a room here, it was rarely used. Beginning to doze, my mind pondered the conversation with gran. For a while, I'd had this recurring dream in which I had sex with either my mother or grandmother, waking in the morning to find a flaky crust on my stomach. As I've said, both of them were still extremely attractive, far more so than Aunt Lucy, and I was sleeping with her!

With my eyes feeling tired I closed the book, put it on my bedside table and turned out the light. The room was dark and initially, I didn't know what had disturbed me until a whispered voice told me to move over a little bit. Mine was only a single bed and so it was a squeeze as gran joined me beneath the covers.

Pressed up tightly against me, I could feel the silkiness of her robe as she whispered, 'What you said earlier, about you and I having sex, is that something you have thought about?'

Now I might have been young, but I was certainly not stupid, especially when there was a woman in my bed who, unless I was mistaken, was about to offer me sex. Had I ever thought of doing things to gran? Of course, I had. Was I going to turn down the opportunity of fucking her even if we were related, not on your nelly!

Turning on my side to face her, I spoke quietly, 'I suppose I have gran, although I can't tell you why. When I look at you, the first thought that pops into my head is me and you having sex.'