The C17, was late landing at Brize; strong head winds had pushed the schedule back forty minutes. By the time they cleared channels and were in Tim's BMW, Robert had realised they would be late for the show.
Tim drove his car, the same way he flew, fast, but even he could not claw back all the time lost.
The car drew up outside the Theatre, with a squeal of brakes, Robert leapt out, making for the Box office.
But a uniformed attendant, rushed out of the theatre, towards him. "Squadron Leader Barlow?" He asked. Robert nodded, "we'd just about given you up for lost sir."
Robert briefly explained why.
He said that he had orders, to park the car in the Theatre management car park, in the rear of it.
Tim handed him the keys reluctantly, and they all made their way to the box office.
A young woman was standing outside it, as they approached.
"You're expected," she smiled handing each a program, "I'm afraid you've missed most of the show," she glanced at her watch, "there's only about twenty minutes left." She led them to the door, "when, you get inside; an attendant will show you to your seats."
They had to wait while a man in white tie and tails sang some thing from Carmen. When he had finished, another attendant led them to their seats, front row centre isle.
When they were seated, Robert scanned the program; Terry had closed the first half, but was the last act of the show, and he saw there were two more acts before hers.
Finally, the curtains drew back, and she was there, standing centre stage.
She was in a white, strapless evening gown, her long auburn hair hanging over her left shoulder.
Her first number was a love song from Romeo and Juliet. The hair, on the back of his neck, stood on end at the clarity of her pitch perfect voice, his chest ached with pride for her. She completed the second song, which was the last of her act to raptures applause from the audience.
But instead of leaving the stage, she waited until the applause had died down, and then said.
"For my last song this evening, I'd like to dedicate this to some one, who is very dear to me." Has, she spoke; six backup singers, arranged themselves behind her.
The orchestra began to play the opening bars to We've only just begun.
Robert felt a painful lump, in his throat, his eyes stinging.
Through out her performance, her head was staring down at him, he knew she couldn't possibly see him through the stage lights, but she knew where he sat.
He was mesmerised by her face; a small tear rolled down her cheek as she finished.
The three pilots leapt to their feet, applauding, the rest of the audience following in a standing ovation,
Robert was frozen, in his seat, over come with emotion. He had never loved her more, than at that moment.
The Theatre lights came on, and people began to file out. The attendant came over, "If you will wait here Sir until the public has left. I'll take you to Miss Kerr's dressing room."
The door had a small silver star on it, with Miss Teresa Kerr printed beneath. He knocked and then opened the door.
He barely saw a flash, of emerald green, before she was in his arms, her soft lips pressing against his; they held the kiss for several seconds before realising they were not alone.
The three pilots were examining some thing on the ceiling, whilst three girls were beaming with broad smiles.
Terry whispered, "I think introductions are in order darling," indicating the men.
Robert presented them to Terry, who already recognised them, from the Offices mess at Renton.
She then introduced the girls, Susan, a short blonde, with deep blue eyes and large breasts, whom it transpired, had shared a flat with Terry, when they were at the Royal Academy.
Carol, with hazel eyes, a brunette with a classic figure, a few inches taller than Susan, who had also been a flat mate, and July, blue eyes also a blonde, biggish breasts tiny waist and big hips she was roughly the same size as Carol, she was an assistant stage manager.
Robert, couldn't help but compare the English girls to those they had met in America,
Where the American girls were voluptuous in their figures, the English girls, were more willowy.
While the others were getting acquainted; he could now turn his attention to Terry.
She was wearing an emerald green dress that matched her eyes, her hair held by an ornate clip at the back of her head, the hair hanging over her shoulder shining.
He became aware that she was looking at him.
"Like, what you see mister?" She asked in a cheeky voice.
"Yeah, you scrub up well," he replied, in the same manner.
He was holding her by her waist, her green eyes, looking up at him sparkling with suppressed emotion.
"God I've missed you so much," he murmured.
"It's seemed like a life time for me too," she whispered back, going on tiptoe to kiss him again.
They had moved to the hotel, a short walk from the Theatre, Terry had already booked the four rooms, so while the men organised porters to take their valises up to the rooms, Terry took the girls through to the bar.
By the time, the men, joined them, she had ordered Champagne.
They were sat at a large round table; the couples already paired off; it appeared to Robert; he couldn't help wondering, who had selected who.
They were on their third bottle, when July, asked Bill what it had been like in America.
Bill began in a serious voice, "It was tough, blazing sun day after day, never dropped below a hundred and twenty degrees. Sand every where, in your face, in your food, and then there were the scorpions and rattlesnakes." He pursed for effect, "You had to be careful how you moved, and you had to check your bed, every night in case one had got in, under the tent."
Robert was trying to keep a straight face, at the sight of the girls with their eyes opened wide; their mouths agape, as they imagined the horror of it all. He could see Tim and Tom having the same problem.
Terry swung her head, round to Robert, concern in her eyes.
He gave a small shake of his head and rolled his eyes.
Bill continued, "But the worst part was the loneliness, you felt like the last men on earth. I can't tell you how much it means to be back, and talk to such beautiful girls as you."
"Oh, you poor things," July whispered, "having to endure that."
"Well," said Bill taking one of her hands in his, and looking deep into her eyes, "Has an RAF officer, we serve, where we are sent."
Robert, nearly choked on his drink.
They were starting a fourth bottle, when Robert leaned over to Terry, and whispered.
"I don't think they would miss us if we crept out."
Terry stopped at the door, the key card in her hand.
"Looks familiar," he said.
"It, should do," she whispered, entering the room, switching on the sidelights.
He closed the door; she was standing looking at the room; he came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, his head bending to kiss her neck, she bent her head to one side for him, has his lips moved down her neck.
He felt her body tremble as he lowered his head to the hollow of her shoulder.
His hand found the zip and pulled it slowly down; he noticed her eyes were closed, her lips parted.
His hands returned to her shoulders, as he slipped the dress from them; it rustled as it fell to the floor.
He swallowed, his mouth dry; she was wearing a black lace bra and matching thong with black sheer stockings.
His right hand reached over her shoulder, and cupped her breast, his fingers reached inside and freed her breast from the cup, before he took it in his hand again, his thumb revolving round her nipple, she groaned, leaned back against him.
His left hand stole around her waist, his fingers feeling the smoothness of her stomach, his fingers went lower, feeling lace beneath them, and then lower to the junction of her thighs, he began to move it, slowly up and down.
She gave a low moan. "Oh, god I've missed you so much Bobby," she whispered her voice trembling with emotion.
His hand slipped inside, the thong, slipping over the bulge to her vulva, caressing its lips, they opened, and his finger slid in moving, searching until it found the small hard nub, and he began to stroke it.
"I've missed you darling too." He said in a soft voice.
"Then show me how much," she said suddenly spinning round; attacking the buttons on his jacket, then his shirt, letting them fall where they may.
She was sobbing with frustration, as she tried to remove his trousers, he kicked them away, when they fell, along with his shoes, and then his shorts fell to the floor.
She stood before him, has he unclipped the bra sliding it form her shoulders, and then her thong fell to the floor. She was staring up at him her body trembling; he kissed her gently on the lips and then reached down and lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.
He woke the next morning to the sound of her humming in the shower.
He swung his legs off the bed, surprised he still had his socks on, he stripped them of then walked into the bathroom.
Opening the shower door, he saw Terry washing her back with a sponge, a large shower cap on her head.
"You just look like Mrs Mop in that."
She turned and stuck her tongue out at him.
He took the sponge from her, and began to rub her back with it. She supported herself with her hands, pressed against the tiles of the cubical. He added more gel to the sponge creating a rich lather, as he washed her.
Marvelling at her unblemished skin the narrowness of her waist, the spread of her hips the round firmness of her buttocks, has the sponge rotating around them.
"I think its clean darling," she murmured.
"Turn around," he ordered
She turned, looking up at him.
He added, more gel to the sponge and began to slowly, move the sponge over her throat, then to her breasts, revolving the sponge slowly around each one. The nipples seemed to grow, and he added more gel. The sponge began to move around her stomach slowly, he heard her involuntary gasp.
He moved to her hips, then lower; a low groan escaped her lips, her body trembling. He turned off the shower and then pulled the cap of her head.
"You'll get my hair wet," she murmured, in a breathless voice.
"Tough," he growled back.
He reached for her kissing her hard, his tongue probing her mouth.
She could feel his erection, pressing hard against her belly, her breath coming in short pants.
"You're insatiable," she groaned, her arms around his neck, her back hard against the shower wall.
