Patients at the Seattle Naval Hospital were given an opportunity to earn "open gate" liberty by volunteering for appropriate tasks in and around the hospital grounds. I had become the receptionist in the Welfare and Recreation office.
After I had become well ensconced in my new job, my boss, Lt. Kardash as asked to find a 5th Division Marine as a speaker for the 7th War Bond Drive. While having the bad luck to be wounded hardly qualified me for the status of a hero, I was reasonably articulate, and came equipped with a Purple Heart and a pair of crutches. What more could a bond drive chairperson ask?
During the next several weeks, I spoke before civic groups and in company lunchrooms all over three counties. I don't know how many bonds I may have sold, but I found wonderful fringe benefits.
One of the last talks I gave was to the staff of Seattle's leading hotel. There were perhaps fifty people in my audience, ranging from hotel executives to the housekeeping staff. This bond drive featured a queen contest -- the establishment that sold the most bonds won the contest. The hotel's candidate was a lovely young elevator operator named Shelly who had been introduced to me before my talk, and who sat in the front row while I delivered it.
I had difficulty tearing my eyes away from her to look out into the audience as I spoke, and for good reason. Even in her clumsy elevator operator's uniform, she was a very pretty girl. She wore her cute little pillbox hat tilted high upon a coil of the richest reddish hair I have ever seen. The uniform effectively concealed her figure, but she was obviously slender and her movements were graceful. I noticed, when we shook hands, how soft and unblemished her skin was. She wore only a trace of lipstick on a mouth that was at once sensual and inviting while at the same time displaying an impish little smile as if she knew I had noticed that her eyes were green, and wondered what her body looked like under that stiff uniform.
After I gave my little pep talk, one of the hotel big shots took me to one side and asked if I was free that evening. Would I like to escort Shelly to dinner as a guest of the hotel? Hell yes!
I returned to the hotel at the agreed time and found Shelly waiting for me in the lobby. She wore her hair in lush reddish waves that fell to her shoulders and framed her face while complementing her green, semi-formal gown. A single strand of pearls called attention to her graceful neck and décolletage that emphasized her fresh young bosom. The gown hugged her womanly hips, and fell midway between her knees and ankles. She looked like a movie star as she rose and offered me her hand.
"Hello, Corporal Moore," she said in her soft voice.
She took my arm and I escorted her into the dining room. The maître'd was expecting us, and led us to a table on the edge of a small dance floor at the far end of the room. Two couples were slowly dancing between courses to the music provided by a small orchestra on a balcony above the dance floor.
No doubt sensing my uneasiness in these opulent surround ings, Shelly said, "I feel just like Cinderella."
"Does that make me Prince Charming?" I asked for wont of anything intelligent to say.
"We'll see," she said.
The significance of that cryptic remark escaped me at the moment, but I remembered it later. Dinner was served. Later, while we waited for dessert, a photographer appeared and flash bulbs began popping as Shelly and I smiled dutifully into the camera's lens.
When it was time to escort her home, I got a cab and Shelly gave the driver her address. I was navigating in uncharted waters, but I timidly put my arm around her shoulders. She came willingly to rest against me, and even reached up to kiss my cheek.
It was a long cab ride; but it seemed only minutes before we pulled up before her door. I expected to give her a quick kiss and then direct the cabby to take me to the hospital, but that was not to be. Instead, when we arrived at her house, she almost dragged me out of the cab. "My father has been waiting up to meet you!"
"But how'll I get to Sand Point?"
"He'll take you. Don't worry."
Nevertheless, I had very mixed feelings as I watched the cab disappear around the corner. Still reluctant, I followed her into the house, and sure enough, daddy was sitting in the living room, waiting up for us.
I quickly learned that he had been a Marine in the first World War. We traded stories for about an hour while Shelly sat quietly on the sofa next to me holding my hand.
Finally she stood and yawned. "It's getting awfully late, Daddy," she said pointedly.
I expected the old man to get up and put on his coat, preparing to drive me to the Navy base, but instead he looked at his watch. Then he stood and offered his hand. "It's been good to meet you, sir," he said. Then he turned to his daughter. "Good night, dear," and he walked out of the room!
WHAT THE HELL??????? At first, I was embarrassed, confused, and even frightened. Literally, I didn't know what to do. As if to settle things, Shelly pulled me down on the sofa and kissed me on the mouth. Her subtle perfume flooded my senses, and my cock was suddenly as rigid as a crowbar. When she took my hand and placed it on her breast, I almost came in my pants! Still I hesitated.
Sensing my confusion, Shelly took my hand. "What time do you have to be back?"
After listening to me stutter and stammer for a minute or two, she smiled. "Would you like to come upstairs or would you rather stay down here?" I hesitated, but only because events had overtaken my ability to process them. My nervous system was still trying to adjust to this sudden, wholly unexpected and nearly inexplicable turn of events! "Haven't you ever -- you know -- done IT before?" she asked.
How should a young man respond to a question like that? A dozen conflicting ideas raced through my mind -- what will she think of me if I tell the truth? Will she know if I lie? I tried for neutral ground. "Suppose your mom or dad wake up?"
"They don't care," she said. "They know I've done this before. I like to think it's my contribution to the war effort!" As she spoke, she unknotted my tie and began unbuttoning my shirt. Then she stood, and quickly circled the room, turning off the lights until only the lamp by her father's chair remained lit. Just as quickly, she unbuttoned her gown, and stepped out of it.
I had my shirt off by now and watched, fascinated, as she drew her slip over her head. I had never seen a live girl in "proper" undergarments -- cast iron brassiere, steel-belted panty girdle with industrial grade garters holding up cotton stockings -- but I was willing to bet she was the most beautiful, most exquisite, most delicate, most erotic creature anyone had ever seen.
She crossed the room, and kissed me again. "When I come back," she said, "at least have your shoes off." Then she gathered up her clothes and vanished into the hall.
