Looking out of my window toward the main road, I had to squint to see between the strips of sticky brown paper that crisscrossed the glass.
Night had fallen a while ago, and the stars were bright against the night sky. No lights shone anywhere. Pedestrians appeared as dark shadows; the odd cycle clattered amongst them. Tiny slivers of yellow light glowed between the masking on headlight lenses.
I had bathed after coming off duty, tepid water in a bowl, a square of flannel, and my last piece of soap. Like many others, I gathered those last bits of soap, now too small to use, and wrapped them in a piece of old stocking, knotting the top.
I had done my makeup, what little of that I had left, and put on fresh underwear. All that remained to put on was my uniform skirt and stockings.
You quickly learned to leave your stockings until the last thing. There was less chance of an accidental ladder.
My last pair were thin on the heels and had some bobbling on the welt but otherwise were okay.
I deftly fastened my suspenders before slipping into my skirt and shoes.
I checked my appearance in the mirror, all good.
My eyes were alight with excitement; being honest, so was my pussy. A tingly warmth emanated from my core.
ID card, handbag, and gas mask, I was set to go.
As I passed through the main entrance, the guard nodded, "Ma'am."
The wind had picked up, and I could hear its wailing hum as it passed over the tethering wire of a nearby barrage balloon.
I tugged my collar up and walked a few paces to the bus stop.
Luckily, the bus would be on time, and we'd be in town before the nightly sirens howled into life.
Before long, the engine's rumbling announced its arrival, moving slowly on the unlighted road, all bar a thin slit of its headlights masked off.
I slipped my white scarf from my pocket and held it in front of me to catch the driver's eye.
The journey was largely uneventful. A small group of slightly rowdy infantrymen boarded as we approached the edge of town, but they settled down on seeing my uniform.
ooOOoo
Stepping off the bus, I surveyed the area around me. Opposite the bus station was a Lyons tea room. Last week, the colonel and I had sat sipping strong brown tea with one digestive biscuit for each of us.
Now the building was a ruin, windows shattered, bitter scented smoke still drifting from it.
We had left that tea room with my heart in my mouth, the thought of what we would do next staining my knickers with my syrupy excitement. Now all that remained was a memory.
Suddenly the throbbing roar of an aircraft flying low filled the air. I stepped into a shop doorway as a pair of searchlights came alive. Their long white fingers probed the sky for danger.
There it was, a lone aircraft, a Mosquito, smoke trailing from one engine as it limped back home from a raid.
"God speed, safe landings," a businessman sheltering next to me said, pausing to cross himself before moving on.
I needed to get moving. I couldn't be late. We would have little enough time, as it was. I really needed some time in my lover's arms to feel her embrace's strength and warmth.
Two streets later, I approached the hotel. It had been a four-star hotel, popular with those that had cash to spend on life's finer things.
At the outbreak of war, the owners had shuttered it, but then the war office took it over to quarter visiting military officers.
Passing through a narrow opening in the thick wall of sandbags before pushing open the heavily reinforced front doors, I approached the reception. "Captain Morgan for Colonel Summers," I stated.
"Good evening, Ma'am," the corporal acting as receptionist and security checked my ID papers before adding an entry to his clipboard.
"The colonel is on the second floor, room twenty-two. The stairs are across the passageway," he indicated with his pen.
Trying to maintain military dignity whilst galloping up a staircase with a throbbing wet needy pussy is no easy thing.
Stopping at the door of room twenty-two, I adjusted my rig and took a deep breath to square myself away before rapping sharply on the door.
"Yes, who is it?"
"Captain Morgan," I snapped out.
"Enter."
With a single twist of the highly polished brass knob, in I stepped straight into my lover's outstretched arms.
Our lips locked for a while before I opened my mouth to accept a thrusting tongue.
Neither of us spoke; we just hugged and kissed. Inhaling the scent of each other, letting our warmth and passion envelop us.
Long minutes passed before we finally parted, stepping back to survey each other.
Crisp uniform shirt, open at the collar, exposing an elegant tanned neck.
I let my eyes drop, feeding my lust and dampening my knickers.
Lean, lightly muscled legs encased in sheer nylon, lacy white suspenders, and knickers delighted my eyes.
"At ease, soldier," Mary offered a jokey salute.
I quickly popped the fastenings on my tunic before slipping out of my skirt to reveal my own white lingerie and heeled shoes.
She took my hand and pulled me toward the bed. The heavy candlewick eiderdown already turned back to expose crisply starched sheets.
Kneeling to face each other, we held hands, letting our eyes meet and our souls unite.
Slowly, oh so slowly, Mary moved her head forward before delivering a long, firm kiss.
I kissed her back, letting my hands unbutton her shirt before slipping it from her shoulders.
Her large breasts were filling a strictly non-uniform bullet bra, the conical cups flush with tan flesh.
I could wait no longer. I quickly unfastened my bra as Mary undid hers.
The feel of our bare breasts touching sent shockwaves to my core.
I cupped her warm mounds, savoring their weight in my hands as I teased her rigid nipples.
My efforts were rewarded with little shrieks of pleasure.
My turn to groan aloud as her mouth engulfed my smaller breasts, her teeth grazing my nub.
Now I could smell our mutual arousal; I could even feel my juices leaking into my knickers.
Mary's hands pushed me back against the pillows and, at the same time, pulled my knickers off.
"You too. Please," I pleaded.
With a wriggle and a wobble, Mary's knickers followed suit and landed on the floor close to mine.
Her Italian heritage was evident in the lush black mop of pubic hair covering her pussy.
Unbidden, my hand moved between her thighs, my fingers combing the wet, tangled mop.
"Oh, Susan, I need you so much."
In moments we were lying in each other's arms, hands and fingers roaming.
I loved her mouth on my breasts, tugging and stretching my nipples. She loved me gripping that thick black hair, stretching her labia, letting her juices flow.
"I need you now; I need to make love, my darling," I said. She nodded her understanding. Her large dark pupils dilated with desire.
A final kiss, and I moved to straddle her chest before lowering my sodden pussy to her face.
I could feel her fingers parting my dense mop of sandy brown hair, exposing my sodden core to her tongue.
Her tangle of thick black hair was soaked with her excitement, trapping her natural scent.
With an uncanny sense of timing, our tongues hit home as one.
I rubbed my face against her mound; all that slick fragrant hair caressed my skin. Then my tongue mirroring hers delved into her core. Finally, I pulled her lips, slick with cum, apart and slipped my tongue inside.
Her all-so-familiar tartness coated my tongue, electrifying my senses as I worked to pleasure my darling.
It was animalistic rutting. No words were spoken. Just panting, squealing, and groaning mixed amongst sticky wet lapping sounds.
We would cum, one pausing a moment so as not to spoil the other's orgasm, fresh juice would be spilled, and then we would resume with renewed vigor.
Daily life's grimness and downright terror were temporarily lost in a world of passion.
We had just moved to sit against the headboard, our skin slick with sweat and cum, our breathing labored, and to be honest, my jaws ached when the peace was shattered.
