Women I Have Known 09 2 Shielas

When the R and R assignments were announced, I'd just left the awards grinder and was ready to crawl into my rack and get some rest. I sat on the bunk, smoking, and debated on getting sleep or getting the news of my destination for ten days out of the fight called Viet Nam.

I had been on the border to North Viet Nam for more than seven months and had the prospect of five or more months before I could rotate back to the World. Hell of a way to win the war.

When I thought about it; for sure an air-conditioned peaceful room with clean sheets, so out I went.

Australia is my destination. Now I couldn't sleep thinking of a sun-kissed, no tan lines, naked and shapely, young, bright-eyed woman riding me while I s illed her full of come.

During the ten days I would have, I would make every effort to make sure she would have a seeping slit until I had to return for four more months country.

When I woke up in the dark, rockets and mortars were exploding in the same area of the post where I was billeted. The rockets rained all around, so I found my smokes and lit a Marlboro to enjoy while remembering the wet-dream of the naked beach beauty that caused the gooey mess in my lap.

The Freedom-10 flight landed in Melbourne, and you would have thought we'd landed in Disneyland. The USO had plenty of young women there who were plotting to marry Americans. They wanted to meet American Soldiers on R and R and get married.

An Australian eighteen-to-twenty year-old woman is not the exact image of an American combat Marine's perfect wife forever. The 10-days of wild activity in Melbourne would never seem to resemble what real life could be after the war. It was a fantasyland of fornicating and wild gatherings of promiscuous people of both sexes hoping for this occasion to define their personal limits of sexual conduct.

Then R and R spin off results were;

1. An increase in the number of American veterans immigrating to Australia as soon as they could get the paperwork figured out.

2. It also increased the number of Australian widows from the prewar percentages of matching populations, and those long range survivor benefits for the widows.

3. The tourist industry of Australia had the best PR in the World when we/they returned to the war and started telling stories about how tight, or what bra cup size, or the amount of alcohol or dope, or the fight we'd had, and don't forget how many times, and with how much cock he had sexually satisfied her pussy and himself, again and again and in many cases overdid themselves not only while in Australia, but in the telling of the tale also.

4. And then, by the time he'd written a censored letter home, it had been the best time ever. (My Dad told me) when I returned to the World that Momma had said out loud, "That child has been fornicating, Mel. What can I do?"

5. We, Momma, included, still laugh about her comment up until her death.

6. The R and R receptions increased the number of whores working the bars near the USO hotel event. Was It impossible to know if a woman was a whore only by observing? Ten years later, it came out in the studies that the Aussie women thought they were doing it for their country.

7. A lot of violence against women went unreported, as you can imagine. Most of the violence occurred when an Australian bloke would lose his 'Sheila' to a hardened combat killer. The result was often broken marriages which records another elevated level of social crime.

When the moonshine was flowing, these eighteen-year-old women could clearly recall their Momma and Grand-momma's whispered and told out loud tales about their trysts on the docks during World War II and again during the Korean War. The saloons and clubs of Australia during the Viet Nam era were divided into a lounge for women and men and a separate part of the bar for MEN ONLY. The discussions in the lounge area were often uncensored as the women sank deeper into their cups.

But after ten years, when asked by the USO to fill out the planned tenth-year survey, the women had recorded and reported that most of them benefited from their conscious shift to a looser acceptance of moral behavioral by themselves to catch one of these dangerous lovers/killers.

Ninety percent of these women, when asked if they now knew by observation which others among them were on that playing field, the answers were over 90%, and accurately sure they knew.

Could they detect a fellow player in the grocers or at their kids' school?

It was most obvious when the woman had dressed nicer than most women for an event or function or routinely in a day at the market. For sure if it was with a friend's backyard party atmosphere, a pool party, or a BBQ; they became glaringly obvious to each other.

Was there a trademark or 'tell?' The 'tell' was the raised eyebrow that asked the nasty suggestion. These eighteen-year-old Australian women had access to the top of the species; active warriors. So, in enticing these dangerous sperm-filled testosterone-oozing mates, they saw the males' weakness of the softened eyebrow. These women had created their 'tell' during their years of this group's activity. Learned by discussions of habits, and near misses, and they learned to share and practice what was successful. The same tell worked for all of the conflicts as told by those women.

Australian and US Military Police charges against a GI would be recorded. The GI was nearly always released for the rest of his Freedom-10 R and R. The whole process resembled a slap on the wrist.

I found a pale as porcelain, freckled redhead; a black Aborigine with traditional facial scarring; and a big, blonde, plain woman, all hugging and kissing me when I got off the flight. My brain immediately thought that if I could, I would fuck the blonde and the redhead. When the other gal looked away and disappeared, a black-haired blue eyed gal with an Irish brogue took her place and grasped my cock, and said, "I don't care who else you may have ideas about; you WILL fuck me first. So, let's go right now."

Not fucked by a woman for seven months, I let her pull me away from the 'Welcome to Australia' greeting affair.

Earlier, she'd found an entrance to a stairwell. She was leading, all the while pleading through the lobby and into the stairwell, "Let this be it, let this be it. Are you married? What's your name? Are you a Marine? No condom, I'm a naturist, Mate." While talking steadily, she bared her butt to me and bent over the handrail.

A pussy. Red hair everywhere!

No panties, wet, smelling sweet and musty, lips were swollen and protruding, a perfect fold protruding between her shapely legs. A heaven and a haven for what I regarded as my perfect cock. I impaled her first on my tongue, then as quick as I could get my cock naked, we stroked me deeply and slowly into her a few times, and then I stopped.

"Again? Come on, Mate, and you can't be done already. Please tell me I didn't grab a dud again. Let's go, Mate, let's fuck. Fill my cunny with those little tadpoles. Right now. Come, Mama needs your come. Fuck my pussy. Plug me fully."

Standing with my pants at my ankles, I had tears in my eyes and my hands on her hips, with the ruffled-up skirt from her dress flagging over my hands, pulling her hips to and fro. The urgency was gone. I could rest my painfully erect cock in her vagina without pressing my luck against premature ejaculation. When I entered Viet Nam you may be interested that when the jet left for Viet Nam, I had an erection.

I came in a handkerchief when the plane landed in Hawaii and again when we left Okinawa hours later. But, when we landed in Viet Nam, I got to a head in the receiving office and squirted the urinal full of the whiteness of life.

So, here I am in the stairwell with a fucking Irish-sounding lass, her beautiful legs, which I cannot describe, and a pussy that took me all the way to my pubic hair. I leaned against her and said, "What do I call you?"

"You mean my name?"

"Yeah, Sure, that'll do, I guess."

"Well, Marine. You want to be called just 'Marine.' "

"Fair dinkum then, you can call me 'Gash' or 'Slit.' The name my Momma calls me is Alice. I am from a poor piece of dirt near Alice Springs, so I suspect my Momma was worn out from the nine previous babies and named me Alice as the last name she could think of. She delivered me in the Aboriginal headquarters payroll office. She didn't even know she was pregnant until her water broke.

The Aboriginal medical staff quickly delivered me in their traditional ways. I was given my name, a birth certificate issued with my name, Ulxrikq, by the Shaman woman in Alice Springs. My Momma cannot pronounce the name because it has glottal stops and clicks, which she hasn't learned to produce, so I am called 'Alice' at home.

I am older than twenty and still cannot make the sounds that comprise that name, Ulxrikq, but it is similar to; 'Yule (glottal stop,) r-(click), okaÿ.'

My Momma was concerned that I would become a priestess and remove myself from Alice Springs when the Aboriginals left for the season twice a year.

So, Momma made arrangements for me to visit Ireland. I found relatives there to stay with while I entered University. I completed the study of management and government for two years when the Alice Springs Shaman became unable to travel. I was recalled, and at nineteen years old, I became the ritually empowered Shaman for about a thousand Aboriginals.

I went to the bush with the tribe five times in all. When we started the walkabout, we would stop about one hundred yards out of Alice Springs and remove all our clothing, which was gathered into a pile and then abandoned. Naked and exposed to the sun, I was pink within a few minutes, so the men and boy walkers gathered and peed in a skin bag, mixing their pee with a powder the Shaman's son had with him. They had me lay on the sand, dipping their fingers in the dissolved slurry and applying it generously and thoroughly all over my body.

A lot of chanting, whistle-blowing, and chattering followed. Camp was made for the night. When the fire died to embers, all were asleep or resting under the stars while lying around starkers.

When I awoke, the men were in a circle mumbling softly around the fire. I could hear what sounded like the thunder of the desert storms that did not rain. It was steady, coming from the fire circle, and getting bolder. The rumble could be felt in my chest, and my ears couldn't quite hear it until it stopped.

One of the men rose and clicked his voice, and everyone began to get up. All went to the Northside of the encampment, and in turn, the group emptied their bladder and bowels by ranking order. As the last person completed the need, the hole was covered and smoothed over as though nothing was ever there.

The day began with a silent agreement when everyone rose together, turned East, and walked away from the site where we had spent the night. The sand and brush were groomed, and all traces of our bedding down, feeding, and the fire were gone from sight.

It is significant that two years later, when we walked about this area, we spent the night in the same spot between the same bushes and rocks as we had before. A branch I used from a bush the two years before, now was healed over. The scar from my breaking the branch, was a sign of our having been there, and was the only way I knew for sure.

So, Marine, after the fifth walkabout, I was supposed to find a mate. I was twenty-three so under Australian law, I was of majority, so the Aboriginal tribe could adopt me if I agreed. The tribe had a shitload of funds because they wouldn't spend the government money in their native commerce with the whites.

I made a presentation to the Aboriginal tribe council in an attempt to be released from the role of Shaman for the tribe. I was rebuffed and informed that the Shaman was a responsibility for far longer than my life would last. The council further stated that if I wanted to leave the tribe's natural borders, a series of dry river beds surrounding the plains of Alice Springs, the tribe would act as benefactor for my living conditions wherever I roamed.

I immediately filled out the request for those benefits, stopped to fill the fuel tanks on the lorry I used as transportation, and kissed my Momma. My Dad grabbed a canvas canteen and I said goodbye to the dog. I left in tears for Melbourne, listening to some Aussie religious radio minister admonish me for the thoughts I hadn't shared with anyone. How did he know?

Did anyone else in Alice Springs figure out what I intended for their high priestess and shaman? I had learned that the virginity loss for their priestess was a 'controlled' event. I was having none of that and was happy to be doing something I had been hearing about from older girls in Alice Springs as I grew up. The stories told by those girls who had been to Melbourne to meet an American freedom-10 flight had been the most exciting and nasty stories I had no capacity to understand. Still, my imagination had a field day planning to experience it all for myself.

All this time, Alice and I were sawing back and forth in the stair well. The friction was high, and Alice's attention was reduced.

Alice slowed her dialog and abruptly changed her focus. "Damn, Marine, I thought we would have a quickie; you know how to drive that cock I'll say. Now I understand why those girls in Alice Springs were so happy to have come to meet a Freedom-10 flight."

"Please, Marine, do NOT stop now; I am on my way to heaven."

"Yuh, yuh, oh yuh, Mate, that's it."

I began to pound into her with my hands pulling against the handrail and her banging against the wall. I was banging her hard, and the force on the base of my cock was, of course, causing my cock to seem to lengthen, touching and sliding in her vagina.

"God Almighty, I am going to come, Mate. You did it. I now want to feel that juiciness that follows you coming inside me as deep as you are."

"Well, Alice, I have come twice already and am up to a third if you can stand this for a while longer."

At that point, the door to the stairwell opened below them to have the hotel security person holler, "Hey, you two, what is going on here?"

Alice said, "Oh my god, Arthur, get the fuck out of here; we are fucking, for Christ's sake. We will leave when we are done and not before."

"Jesus, Slit, does the Alice Springs Tribe know you are here? You know I will have to show them this video."

Alice (Slit) pushed back, and Marine's cock came out and poked toward the ceiling, wavering around, covered in slime and come strings falling toward the floor. Alice said, "Excuse me, Marine, do not go away. I'll be right back. We are not done here."

I was standing there with her leaving my cock flagging in the air after fucking me for about ten minutes. With me about to come the third time, I was oozing come and felt strange. There hadn't been that many women I'd ever had the experience of a pussy walking away while I was fucking her, in fact not one.

Slit bent over the guard, who was at least a foot shorter than her. As I watched, she berated him for being a short, split dick, worthless clan member for abandoning the tribe for the White man's cash.

Before I realized it, she had been busy unfastening the guard's pants and had his cock in her hand, saying, "We are not going to hurt each other unless you do not cooperate. I will isolate you to the outback alone for months, Arthur."

He had a pol-axed look on his face, "Slit, I will give you my phone, you erase that video, and I will continue my rounds, and I never saw you here in the stairwell when we are back in Alice Springs. If you will leave the phone at the bar for me, I will disappear, whadda' you say?

She said, "Git! Now, and a word, whisper, hint, or worse, a revelation will change your life in bad, bad ways"

With that, she pointed a finger at the door; it opened, and out Arthur shuffled with his hands busily buttoning his pants. The door slammed behind him; at the same second, she remounted me. The bang of the door slamming caused a combat reaction, and I fell to the stairs and rose three steps downward in a hand-to-hand stance.

When I looked back up the stairs, I was looking at her vagina, sliming the stairs below her and the gash of her vagina from below. I took charge and said, "Alice, get this load in your mouth now; I am going to come down your throat."

"I can't fit all of that cock in my mouth, Marine, but your tongue will fit in my vagina just fine, thank you. If you support my hips, I will lay back on the top of the banister wall, and you can eat and fuck my vagina over the end of the banister. That way, we both get what we want. Me, with another batch of baby batter, and you, with a third come either in or on me."

I agreed; the narrow banister wall was 7 inches wide, maybe, so the cheeks of her ass folded over the sides. When I held her hips on each side, she had a violent orgasm, sliding off the end of the banister. I caught her behind her knees as she dropped and jabbed my cock toward her slit again. She hunched up; I jabbed at her again and, this time, succeeded in impaling myself.

I was able to bang against her weight in the crooks of my elbows so that I lifted and lowered her doing 'arm curls' with her weight.

I cried out loud as the come flowed again. This time my cock collapsed immediately after coming, so when I fell from Alice's pussy, the come flowed as well.

As they calmed down, they exchanged kisses, fingering her, fondling his cock and balls, her vagina, and ass hole.

When they were decent, he said, "I am going back to the reception. Will you actually do an entire ten days with me here in Melbourne? When will you go back on a walkabout with the Alice Springs Tribe?"

"Of course, I will do the ten days. Marine. I have no resistance to sharing you, as long as it is not with an Aborigine."

The rest of her story is that she was lying and returned to the tribe that evening, dragging Arthur with her. When I returned in six years, working for the U S intelligence Department, Alice and I lived together for two years. She disappeared one night when she walked away from the tribe in the middle of the night, only to completely disappear without a trace. Arthur also disappeared on a previous new moon walkabout.

When Alice and I left the stairwell, I waited outside the ladies toilet off the lobby until it become clear that Alice was gone. I was able to find a Sheila, Karen, who didn't want to marry and only wanted a baby. She was married, and her husband, DIck, was sterile. They'd agreed to have a Yank impregnate her. She and I selected each other when I returned to the reception. She asked why I was late arriving, and when I explained, she laughed and said, "Perfect. All the rust was blown out of your tubing. Let's go get me pregnant for ten days. I will be fertile tomorrow, so we could get it done tomorrow. But, we will continue until your ten days come to an end."

"My husband wants you to come home with me; he will leave and not return for ten days if you agree."

So, off we went to Perth, a town clear across Australia.

We didn't get dressed for the entire ten days and only left their home to get in the hot springs tub they had in the backyard.

My cock was up to the task five times for the first two days, using their bed and washing the sheets daily. She knew positions I hadn't heard of, and I think she must have been pleased with my efforts because ten months later, I received a picture of a baby girl that she said was mine.

According to her records, I did not know she was keeping track for her husband; I had thirty-eight orgasms in her vagina in the days I was there, and I had oral sex anytime I wanted until I left on the evening of the ninth day to muster to return to the war.