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Authors: Michael Meadows

Unlaced Corset (12 page)

BOOK: Unlaced Corset
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23

 

Mary

 

Mary had been in the house for more than a week, and she'd barely had a minute to herself the entire time. Nobody came calling, nobody asked why she was there. Nobody pushed her to explain how she'd come to reside in a man's apartment with the man out. She'd been alone with her thoughts, and that was so much worse.

When she'd gotten there, she was sick from worry about everything—about the bombs falling, about what people would think. About what they would do to stay away from her uncle if they were even able to implicate him in anything at all.

Then she'd started worrying about bigger issues. James hadn't come back, and where was she going to stay? By the time she'd made it to London, presses in Yorkshire were already running with the story that the Geis estate had been nearly destroyed in the bombing.

If she was kicked out of this place, she had no place to go back to. The hotel wasn't safe; she'd be caught. If she wasn't caught, what would happen when her father's money ran out? It had to happen, and if James had told her the truth, it would happen soon.

She thought that her father's fortune could afford to pay the rent, if she could access it, but there was further the question of who to pay it to. She hadn't seen anyone since she had walked through the front door, nine days ago. She had found it quite nice, to be able to be by herself. Now she was beginning to go mad from the isolation.

James... she had tried, for a while, not to think about him. It seemed easier that way. When she slept, though, she dreamed of him, and woke in a pool of sweat. When her mind wandered, visions of him danced before her eyes, and a tightness clutched her chest.

She tried to think of the times they'd spend together, even in this very room, and remember the surge of emotions she'd felt with him. But it didn't help her feel better. Instead, it just made the aching in her chest feel worse.

When she had gotten the paper on the train to London, and heard that her house had collapsed, she'd been so sure that he had made it out alive. He'd promised to her, promised to come back to her. And yet, as the days passed, she was realizing more and more that it was hopeless.

Wherever he was, he wasn't coming back to her. Probably, he was buried under the rubble, and if he'd found anything that could have protected her from her uncle, then it had been buried with him.

Mary shook her head. She couldn't afford that sort of thinking, not now. She needed to be strong, like everyone else with husbands or sons in the war. The only difference was that her war was back in Dover. She took a deep breath and let it out, and tried to count her blessings.

It had been nine days, and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of Oliver. Davis had been with him when she'd seen them leaving the house, and Davis knew about the apartment. Maybe there was some soft feeling for her left in his heart. But the thought didn't make her feel any better.

She much preferred the idea that James had stopped them, that he'd succeeded even if he hadn't made it out alive. However he had stopped them, she knew, there was little chance that they were still coming after her. If they were going to then they would have done it already.

She laid back in the bed, the bed that she and James had shared their first night together in. She could still smell him on the sheets, could feel him on top of her, his weight giving her a comforting feeling of safety. Could remember the way he moved inside her.

Mary nearly jumped when she heard a rap at the door, the first visitor in days. This was it, she thought. Finally, the landlord had come, and he was going to evict her. She straightened and smoothed her dress and tried to look as presentable as possible. Nothing untoward here, she reminded herself. She needed a place to stay, and her steward had offered the use of his house while he was out.

Until he got back.

The words drifted through her mind and hit her like a punch in the gut. She wiped the wetness from her eyes, blinked until she had control of herself, and opened the door.

She saw the cast first. It was large and white and drew the attention of most people who saw it. It took up his entire lower arm on his right side.

James Poole stood outside his flat, on a pair of rough-cut crutches. He carried his weight hard on one leg, and he had a single red rose in his hand.

For a moment, Mary could feel her anger flash, red and hot, and she wanted to slap him.

"James Poole, do you have any idea how much you scared me!" She settled for balling her fists up at her sides. "Not a letter, not a word to me, for a week!"

She could feel her tears welling up again, and she tried to push them away, but it was a losing effort.

"I thought you were dead, and I didn't—I couldn't—"

She took a step back and pressed her back against the wall. It was as much a crutch to her as the ones under James's arms, and without it she would have fallen right down.

He waited outside the door for her, until she took a deep breath and turned to him. She wanted a response, but none was forthcoming. He smiled before he spoke, and she already wanted to slap him again.

"I'm sorry, Miss, I seem to have misplaced the key to my flat."

He laughed, a deep sound that came from his belly, and she hated and loved him for it. He took a step into the house and winced when his foot touched the doorstep.

"Do you need any help?"

"No," he lied. "I can get around well enough, if I take my time."

He hobbled across the room and fell into the sofa.

"What happened?"

"I don't remember that well. It happened quickly, so I've only been able to piece some of it together after." He took a deep breath and rubbed his knees. "I found your uncle's footlocker, and it was full of letters. I'm guessing it must have been blackmail of some kind. I remember that several of them were from Germans."

Mary sat across from him and motioned for him to continue.

"Oliver is dead. Last I saw, Davis was in critical condition, but he looked bad. The third man, whatever his name was—I shot him when he came at me."

"No," she said softly. "They left, I saw them."

"They saw me when I was heading out of town, and must have doubled back. I think your uncle was working with the Germans, on something. Your father got mixed up in it. They probably offered him a big payoff if he fronted some of the money."

James looked up to see if Mary was listening, and she was.

"Well, I guess he backed out—that would have been when he hired me, I guess—and then they killed him over it."

They were both silent for a long time. Mary knew, really, that neither of them knew what had really happened. It was a lot of guesswork, and if the house had come down then in all likelihood the evidence was gone. Finally, James broke the silence once more.

"I do have one last question, though."

She could see his face, and could see he thought he was being clever again. She couldn't help but smile seeing it. He was a fool, but she loved it about him. She said the words he was obviously waiting to hear.

"What's that?"

"Mary Geis, will you marry me?"

Mary blushed, and then crossed the room to him. He was seated, and looked up at her. For a moment, she was taller than him, and she thought that was the way she wanted it. Then she leaned down, looked him in the eye, and kissed him.

 

 

 

His War Bride

Public Sex, Voyeurism, Masturbation Erotica

Harley Harper

 

Millie-

Missing you every day. Loose lips sink ships, but we're supposed to be sailing someplace we'd talked about for the honeymoon before the war started. I don't have much time to write, but I have to go but I hope this letter finds you in good spirits.

-E Jackson, February 2nd, 1944

 

Millie-

I've received word that the infantry's efforts in the north at [REDACTED] were successful and they're pressing into [REDACTED]. Really putting the screws to those Krauts! Thank you for the photograph you included with your last letter, I've kept it private like you asked. I've got some good news, too: We're supposed to be coming home for shore leave in a few weeks! I'll be pretty busy until then, but I'll write when I have the time and I'll ring you up when I get back to New London and we can go out for some drinks.

-E Jackson, June 27, 1944

 

I'd written Ellis the day after I received his last letter, and I'd tried to start a second letter a dozen times, and each of them had ended up in the trash bin. Not important enough, not loving enough, not cute enough or sexy enough. I worried that perhaps he would get back before I could send him another letter. In the end I sent a sheet of paper with some lipstick on it and my name and a message that I loved him and I hoped to see him soon.

I thought back to the days before he'd shipped off and gone to do his duty over there in Europe. He'd been so attentive, not like the other boys I'd gone on dates with. We'd been together for nearly a week before he tried to hold my hand, and he always seemed to listen to me when I talked. I almost found it endearing the first time I caught him looking at my chest, because I'd begun to take it as a challenge to get him to look at me that way.

I was almost worried he was one of those folks that fancy boys, but I was lucky he wasn't. We kissed in the picture show for the first time after a month, and a couple nights later I'd put his hand on my breast and he'd felt me up for a few minutes in his car before he said he should get home. We'd gotten engaged thirteen days later and I'd tried to take him into the back seat but he refused. Said it was the Christian thing to wait for marriage. I'd waited for the right guy, but with Ellis I was sure and I was ready to give myself to him. But he was always too good a man for that.

I sat down in my wicker chair and thought of him. I smelled one of the letters, which still had a faint scent of his aftershave and I let one of my hands drift across my belly. I had to be careful not to let my thoughts drift too long, as I had to be at work in an hour, but I had a few minutes to spare and thinking about Ellis has me feeling tingly. I tried to think ahead to our wedding night, his face clean-shaven above me and kissing me and his arms so strong around me.

I ease a button open in my shirt and feel my skin gently, trying to make the time last before I touched myself. I felt my breasts, heavy and full, and finally I pushed my bra aside and pinched a nipple ever so softly. I squirmed a bit and shivered, and closed my eyes while I hiked my skirt up and touched myself through my panties. I tried to imagine it was Ellis's hand touching me and I mewled softly.

I thought about his soft kisses and his sweet blue eyes and his soft hands roaming all over my body and I wanted him in me right now, but he wasn't around to oblige. I pinched a bit harder and I felt my nipples start to stiffen and crinkle and I gently rubbed the tip of my nipple and the nerves screamed their approval in the back of my mind. I slipped my hand inside of my panties and softly grazed my outer lips, finally slipping a finger inside and touching my hard clit. A jolt went through me and I shivered again, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. I sighed and rubbed harder, trying to climb the summit to orgasm.

I rubbed my clit harder still, and pushed my other hand up my skirt as well, rubbing my pussy while I touched my clitoris, finally slipping a finely manicured finger inside and gently pumping in and out of myself slowly, but speeding up. I mewled softly and hoped Ellis wouldn't be too upset I was doing this without him but I needed it so badly.

"I need to come, please..." I muttered and rubbed harder, pinching my clitoris softly and rubbing my fingers on the spot that drives me wild inside my wet pussy. I felt a tightening in my loins and a release and I purred while I rubbed myself as quickly as I could. I relaxed then, and closed my eyes for a second time while I caught my breath. I could only hope that they wouldn't smell me on it at the dinner service tonight. But, I thought, perhaps the men would prefer to smell it, being stuck on military bases so often. I smiled to myself at the thought, tidied up my uniform, and walked to the car.

I had plenty of time left so I drove leisurely to the base, signed myself in and reported to Terry, the nice man who ran the USO events. He gave told me I'd get my allowance in the mail as per the usual arrangement and I thanked him and asked if there was anything in particular I should take care of, and he told me that it was pretty clear tonight-just take care of the guys, be nice to them, and let them feel like they're not in the middle of getting shot at by Krauts on a daily basis. I smiled and walked into the whirling maelstrom of men in uniform talking to the other girls, grabbed a plate of doughnuts, and walked into the crowd.

I saw a promising group of men standing in a round drinking Pepsi and talking about baseball. I leaned into the huddle and asked if anyone would like some doughnuts, and their eyes lit up and they all graciously took some of the sweets.

One asked if I'd like one myself and I told him that I'd had one before I started my shift, and besides that it was about him and the other brave fighting men in the first place, not about some girl from New Jersey. He gave me a line about how I wasn't just some girl, and I was gorgeous and I deserved nice things, and I let it slide. I'd learned early on to hide the ring and let them talk because it didn't mean anything and they liked it.

I giggled and said I'd heard them talking about baseball. They generally agreed they had been and I asked if any of them had been on-base to hear the all-star game last week, and they said they had. I said I'd been at an event listening and wasn't that double in the fifth exciting. One of them complained that his sister had gotten him a signed Frank McCormick card and they hadn't even played him.

I acted interested and we talked for a while, offered to fill their cups and we all had some laughs. Then another girl came up and started chatting with them and I could tell that most of the men had become rather interested in her... assets, which were straining her uniform and made my chest feel a bit smaller than it actually was.

I excused myself and left to find another group, when I was surprised to find Ellis talking with a few guys, sipping a beer and laughing about something. I touched his back when I walked up and introduced myself all around.

He smiled at me and introduced a few of the guys in the circle, all from his sub. He told me he'd been bragging about his beautiful girl back home and they'd been dubious, when one of them piped in-"He's putting you up to this, isn't he miss. You want us to take him off your hands?" and he winked. I blushed and giggled and planted a kiss on Ellis's cheek.

"I'm sorry my fiancee can be such a handful, I imagine being stuck in a tub with him must've been hard," I japed, and the men all laughed. We spent most of the evening chatting about pictures at the cinema and I told them how well they were being portrayed by the pre-picture commercials and one of them joked that it was all smoke and mirrors.

I offered to grab them some doughnuts and they seemed to be pretty interested, so I rose to go fetch a plate and Ellis came with me. Kissed me on the neck when I bent over and told me he'd really missed me with all those men around, and he couldn't wait until his tour was over completely so we could get hitched. I touched his hand and smiled.

He asked if I'd like to dance and I told him I'd love to but I needed to at least get back to the boys with their doughnuts. To him it was just entertainment but to me it was a job. Not just a job, even, it was important to our boys that us girls entertain them a bit to keep things going and I was proud of how hard I worked to keep them happy.

I stepped back up with a plate stacked high and it seemed to disappear before my eyes as the men ate them and drank. Ellis walked up behind me a second later and asked if he could steal me away and one of the men gestured and said Ellis owed him for taking the best looking dame at the party all to himself and everyone laughed when I blushed again. I let Ellis guide me to the dance floor and I let myself listen to the band properly. It was nice jazzy stuff, the pianist singing out loud belting songs about how he missed his girl and how gorgeous she was back home.

I'd met the singer a few times, a nice black fellow named Grant who had two kids at home who they used for the USO events here pretty regularly. I gave him a smile and he nodded curtly while Ellis led me onto the floor, and then we were wrapped up in the sound of the trumpets and the piano and my boy held me tight for a moment, then we started dancing good and proper and I almost felt like he had never left, and the whole war had been a bad dream.

I laughed in spite of myself, giggles pouring out of me like fizz on a ginger-ale overfilled and flowing uncontrollably off the sides and no matter how much you try to catch the fizz with your tongue you can never seem to get it before it gets all over your favorite dress. That's how Ellis made me feel and I wished I could tell him somehow but he seemed to be so perfect that he probably never spilled his ginger-ale so I stopped dancing and when he noticed and made as if to ask me what was wrong I kissed him and gave him a playful smile and went back to dancing without explaining anything.

He grinned like a kid with bubblegum and I was glad to see him enjoying himself and I danced like I hadn't danced in a long time. I wished we didn't have to go back to the other men and I didn't have to keep putting on my mask and I could just have this moment go on forever but it couldn't. Eventually I got tired and Ellis offered to grab me a soda.

"I'm supposed to serve you the drinks, mister!" I said in mock indignation, and he walked with me to the soda fountain, where I asked for two Pepsis. I sat and drank with him and when I'd finished my glass I got another and we went back to his shipmates.

We all talked for about another hour until the party was winding down. We shared most of Ellis's embarrassing stories, which his friends seemed to take as fair payment for our round of dancing. He seemed a little frustrated with me when we left but I doubt he was very sore about it. He walked me through the parking lot to the auto, and I said my goodbyes and went to step into the car when he leaned in and told me he'd talked to his boss and he'd gotten leave from the base for the night.

Apparently a lot of the guys like to go home during shore leave so it wasn't unusual, and would I like someone to keep me company. I smiled at him and told him I'd love the company and he could drive if he liked and stepped back out of the car. Just as I stood completely he pressed me against the car and kissed me full on the lips hard. I giggled and purred a bit and pressed myself against him. I felt his hands fumbling for my tits and he grabbed them roughly through the rough fabric of my uniform jacket. He bit my neck and I was almost surprised by his ferocity.

"Ellis!" I moaned softly. "We're still in the parking lot," I purred in his ear.

"Millie, I'm sorry, but right now I don't give a damn. Some of the guys, when we stopped in France, well... they got some female company and I sure didn't myself but I just..." he trailed off and he sucked on my neck and I let him. He was still rubbing my tits and he pressed me against the closed back door and shut the front door with his other hand. I played with his hair and wrapped my arms around his back and moaned. He started to reach up my jacket but got frustrated and popped the buttons off trying to get it open.

I laughed a bit out of humor and a bit out of surprised and pressed him away and opened my shirt for him and he began to absolutely devour my tits. I honestly feared for the safety of my brassiere for a moment. I felt down for his cock and rubbed it through his slacks, hard and ready for some attention. I asked him if I could put it in my mouth and he just reached down and unzipped them.
"Please, Millie, I'll do anything." I looked around hoping nobody had stumbled onto our romp and settled down onto my knees and pulled his pants open and his cock out. It stood at attention and I kissed it on the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum that was smeared across the top of his cock before taking it into my mouth. I was trying to take it as deeply as possible, like my girlfriends had told me men liked. He moaned and set a hand on top of my head and I bobbed my head ever so slightly.

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