Wartime

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Elizabeth Fleming told me some of this story in the years before she died, aged eighty, in 2010. The more graphic scenes are mine but the emotions and surrounding history are hers. She was my Great Aunt, great in so many ways for she was the third family member I ever revealed my sexuality to, the first two being my parents. I had known since girlhood that she shared a cottage in Hampshire with her friend, Portia, but had never known their relationship was more than sisterly. When I told her that I was gay, she said, “Me too, darling, me too.”Portia was earthy, rather bohemian and very attractive even in old age. Lizzy, as she insisted I call her, was funny, unconventional and a brilliant story-teller. I loved her.FridayFirst Officer Portia Carlton thanked the Ordinary Wren who had driven us and we both stepped out into the cold spring air. We had been driven a few miles from the radar station we worked in to the estate where Carlton’s mother lived in the New Forest. The car had deposited us outside the lodge rather than the main house which was barely visible at the end of a long, curving drive.During the journey Portia, who was about eight years older than my twenty-two, explained that her mother, Lady Carlton had been widowed about six years before and had stayed in the family home but had recently said there’d been a change in her circumstances.“How did you get the car to bring us?”“Admiral Carlton,” she said, “is an uncle of mine.” That explained it. “Come on then, Lizzy, let’s get inside.”The lodge was red brick and the door, solid oak with black metal studs. As Portia closed the door a tall woman of about fifty came into the hall where a huge log fire raged in the fireplace and kissed her daughter.“Hello, Mums. Meet my current squeeze, Lizzy.”I was appalled. We had, it was true, become very close in the few months since I had graduated from the Women’s Royal Naval Service training course the previous November and been posted to the radar station that Portia commanded. We had, it was also true and in logical sequence: gone out for a drink together, held hands at the cinema, kissed rather chastely, kissed less chastely and on one night when we shared a billet while attending another training session, kissed a lot less chastely and explored each other’s body before sleeping. If we hadn’t been so tired I suspect more would have happened. That, though, was hardly the point. In 1942 one did not even hint at being lesbian, least of all to one’s parents.“Lizzy darling, say hello to Mums.”I extended my hand and said, “Hello, Lady Carlton.”Lady Camilla Carlton ignored my hand and embraced me and kissed my cheek.“Don’t look so shocked, Lizzy and for Christ’s sake call me Camilla. Portia and I have no secrets and I am delighted to meet you.” She was a force of nature, turning on her heel and leading the etlik escort way into a sitting room. She seemed to know we would simply follow.“It’s really too bad, Portia. The bloody Ministry of War simply commandeered the main house and told me, in no uncertain terms to leave the estate and find somewhere else to live. They wouldn’t even let me stay here in the lodge, all bloody hush hush or some such rot. Anyway, I had a word with Winston and, well, here I am. It’s not the same but at least I’m still here.”Winston? I thought, Winston Churchill? Portia read my mind.“He’s an old friend of Daddy’s.” Well, he would be, wouldn’t he?“Tea?” Camilla looked at the clock. “No, gin, I think, don’t you?”She went to a table to one side of the room and poured us all substantial gins and tonic and we sat on comfortable but well-worn leather chairs and chatted for a while. The room was small and cosy with a large fireplace and rather too-large furniture.“Everything I have was in the main house. I wanted to get out as much as I could before those brutes ruin it all. How long can you stay?”“We wangled a couple of two day passes, thanks to Uncle Admiral and the car will come for us on Sunday evening. I have to get her back before midnight or she’ll turn back into a civilian!”Camilla smiled. “You don’t mind sharing a room, do you? What with rationing and so on, heating even this little place is so difficult. I’ve had Metcalfe air the room, set a fire and put decent sheets on so you’ll be fine.”“We’ll make the best of it, Mums. Lizzy and I will be fine sharing.”I felt distinctly uncomfortable but Camilla, typical of the decent aristocracy, was at pains to make me feel better.“Nothing wrong with girls who like girls, Lizzy. I may not be of your persuasion but I’ve known Portia is for years. Metcalfe doesn’t live in so nobody will be any the wiser, she goes home once she’s served dinner. Just make yourselves at home.”We chatted for a while and then she suggested we take our bags up to our room, freshen up and have a doze if we needed it and then get changed for dinner.“I’m afraid I didn’t bring an evening dress.”She smiled. “I meant simply get out of those dreary uniforms and into something that makes you feel like you’re on holiday.”The Ordinary Wren driver had deposited our bags in the hall. The stairs were wide and led up to a landing. Camilla led the way and showed us to a room at one end of the landing. She opened the door and we went in.“See you at seven, darlings.” Closing the door behind her she left us alone. The room was big compared to my billet near the radar station and the window looked down over parkland that rolled towards the big house. This view gave one a sense of just how big it was.“I had no idea she knew.”“Knew what?””About, well, you know.”“Oh, you mean us being a pair keçiören escort of dykes? My darling Lizzy, my mother has many faults as do we all but she is not even remotely bothered about it. Her view is that life is too bloody short to get hot under the collar about a couple of girls having wonderful fun under her roof. Now, for God’s sake get that bloody uniform off and let me ravage you.”In the event I didn’t get it off, she did. Slowly and with frequent stops for kissing and touching she undressed us both until, utterly naked, we subsided onto and into the bed. Portia knew how inexperienced I was.“Are you still a virgin?”I nodded. She pulled me into her embrace. “Have you experienced an orgasm?” I nodded again. “Tell me about it.”Growing up at boarding school I had often lain in bed and stroked my intimate parts.“You mean cunt, darling, let’s call a spade a shovel shall we?” She kissed my mouth to show she was being gentle.Then one day I’d found one of my father’s anatomy books which dealt with the female reproductive organs in rather explicit detail and even mentioned the orgasm, although it did say this was not essential to reproduction.“Bet it was written by a man. I’m told they don’t give a damn whether a woman enjoys herself as long as they do themselves.”I went on to say how I’d used a mirror to examine myself and found that what had been nice suddenly became absolutely amazing. In fact, I’d been frightened by just how amazing.Portia grinned. “I know. But we still have our hymen?” I nodded again. “Keeping it for Mr Right?”“Stop teasing me. You know I’m not.”She put a finger to my lips and then kissed me, insinuating her leg between mine and then it was all hands. Yes, we had touched before but this was something apart. We were building up, I knew, to our first proper time together and her hands gripped my arse as she pulled me onto her thigh. My breasts were licked and stroked and she guided me to do the same to her.Kissing and cuddling and stroking were wonderful but when, after about ten minutes, she disappeared under the sheets and I felt her moist mouth moving down my body I was shocked. I lifted the sheet.“What are you doing?” I hissed as quietly as I could.“Lie back and think of Nelson, darling. You’re doing this for King and Country.”And, then, oh God, and then she found me and I felt her tongue circling, licking and lapping at me. Her hands were under my arse and lifting me like a drinking bowl to her. A mixture of feelings ensued. Intimate parts were for touching of course, but not with lips or tongue. They are dirty. But then, heaven only knew how good it felt, so very good. Nothing had prepared me for how good. I didn’t want her to stop but she did.She crawled up from under the bedclothes and kissed me a bit then, rolling onto her back said, “Your turn.” kızılay escort Sensing my hesitation she smiled. “If you don’t like it we’ll stop.”Ineptly at first, hesitantly I tried to replicate what she had done to me. Her fingers held my hair gently and I could hear her words of encouragement and instruction as I improved. It was beautiful. I cast aside all sense of taboo, of middle class prudishness. I became wanton and my tongue explored deep into her until, to my surprise, she arched her back and her hips lifted. I was so surprised that I stopped but her fingers tightened in my hair and pulled me back to her. Understanding I was to continue I did so and was rewarded by her orgasm, sudden, violent with a lot of writhing, knee lifting and moans of pleasure. As she recovered I crawled back up to lie beside her, rather assuming that was that. How delightfully wrong I was.“See?” She smiled and licked my lips lasciviously. “Now, my lovely Lizzy, it’s time for your first with another woman.”She went down on me again, pushing my knees apart. She didn’t deflower me then but she brought me to a rather swift orgasm that was better than any I had experienced before. I, just as she had but unintentionally, stiffened, lifted my backside, gripped her hair and almost screamed as she brought me to a wonderful, wonderful climax.Holding me to her, she whispered, “So much for you to learn my love. I’m going to take your virginity this weekend and then you’ll learn so much, so very much more.”“Will it hurt?”“Perhaps a little but, with Portia at the helm you won’t care, I promise.”A door to one side of the room opened onto a bathroom and as I unpacked, Portia, naked, ran a bath.“Hot water?”“I know – amazing isn’t it? After our bloody huts this is luxury.” It truly was. We wallowed in steaming hot water in the big bath that allowed us to lie at either end, her legs over mine and she washed me and I her. She washed me as I had never been washed before; sitting up, one arm around my neck and holding my mouth to hers she used her other hand to soap and rinse my… my cunt. Still, she didn’t enter me more than a tiny fraction. But enough for me to know I’d never be happy until she was deep inside me. I told her so but she told me to wait.“That, Third Officer Fleming, is a bloody order.”We dressed, she in high-waisted trousers and I in a dowdy dress, the only one I had other than my uniform. It was just after seven and we went down to the sitting room again where Camilla was knocking back another gin.“Get one for Lizzy unless she’d prefer something different.”We talked then until Metcalfe told us dinner was ready. The meal was, to one accustomed to wartime Naval fare, breathtaking in both quality and volume. I could barely believe it.“So your Pops is a doctor, Portia tells me?” I confirmed he was a consultant at the Bath General Hospital. “Does he do feet? Mine are a dreadful bloody mess.”“I am afraid he’s a heart man.”“Well, I don’t suppose it’ll be long before I need one of those.” She smiled. “Now, do you two girls mind but I’ve invited a couple of people over for dinner tomorrow evening.

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