Playing with Dolly - Ch. 03

He just smiled. "It's just a bit of fun. She doesn't need to know. And I don't need to know what she does with the neighbour while I'm away."

"Do you think she does?" I asked, just before he kissed me again.

"Probably. She has needs, just like I do. We both know I might never come back, and Jerry could bomb our house, so I've made it pretty clear that we should each make our own amusement. And talking of amusement, would you like to be amused?"

I've been fucked in a lot of strange places, but on the tailplane of a Spitfire is perhaps one of the strangest. He put the elevator flaps down and then opened up my flaps with his fingers before showing me some close-contact manoeuvres. I was worried that we might be disturbed, but it seemed that he'd paid one of his ground crew a half-crown - quite a lot of money in those days - to keep watch. He had a very flexible tongue, and he somehow managed to get it quite a long way up my cunt, which felt weird but very naughty. Then he got his cock a very long way up my cunt from behind, with me bent over the tailplane. Neither of us had a rubber on us, but I was so desperate to get fucked that I let him do it without. He pulled out, just before he came but after I did, I'm glad to say, and spurted all over my arse. If I'd had the time and the Vaseline, I'd have been happy to hang around so he could bugger me, but unfortunately, they'd repaired the engine by then, so I had to fly off the next morning. I never knew his surname or whether he survived the War, but it was the best sex I'd had for months and I can still remember the sticky feeling on my arse cheeks as I headed back to my lodgings.

(At that point, there was a knock on the door. I turned off the recording and stashed the whisky bottle and the now-empty glasses in my bag. Moments later, the door opened and an officious-looking nurse entered.

"Time for your medication, Dolly," she announced.

Dolly gave me a resigned look. "Sorry, my dear, but I need to submit to this torture. They tell me it's the only thing keeping me alive. I believe that it's talking to you that's keeping me alive, but the Gestapo here seem to think otherwise. Once they've given me this, I'll be sleepy and incoherent, so you'd best come back tomorrow. And please do. I need to tell you a lot more."

"Miss, could you please wait outside for a moment?" the nurse asked, turning her stern gaze on me.

I said goodbye to Dolly, picked up my bag and left, taking the opportunity to rinse the glasses in a basin in the visitors' toilets, opposite Dolly's room. When the nurse appeared, she looked a little perturbed.

"You do know that Dolly doesn't have long to live, don't you?"

"She told me she's already outlived her prognosis, so yes," I replied.

"I'm not happy about you disturbing her like this. I think you should leave her to die peacefully." Her look was serious, even hostile.

"Did you hear what she said in there? Talking to me seems to be the only pleasure she gets."

"I think you're stirring up things that she shouldn't be thinking about." The woman's face was hard.

"Look. When I first arrived, Dolly was sour-faced and bitter about almost everything, and borderline abusive..."

"Borderline! Hah!"

"Exactly. But now, I've seen her smile more in the past interview than at any time since I first met her. We both enjoy these sessions, and she gets very few pleasures at the moment. She knows she's dying, and I think she's desperate to tell her story before it's too late. Why do you feel she shouldn't?"

I thought the nurse was going to say something, but she stopped herself. "Has Dolly said anything about the home?" she asked.

"No - apart from comparing your regime to that of the Gestapo, but I think any older person would rail against the restrictions they face inside any institution. Why, do you think she should be complaining about something?"

"Of course not," the nurse said, looking a little flustered. "She always gets the best possible treatment, despite being a grumpy old... woman."

"Good. Because I'm coming back tomorrow, and I'll keep interviewing her until she's told me everything she wants to say - or she dies. My project involves finding out about her life when she was a younger woman, and anything that may be worrying her while she's here isn't my concern. So I hope you don't have any problems with that."

The nurse looked relieved as I left, and I wondered what she was worried about. Despite my parting statement, I felt I really should try to find out.