INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - Petite and pretty blonde Sally works in a factory and has always been a tomboy to the despair of her strict and more traditional mother, who wants her daughter to act more feminine. Stuck at home and recovering from a bout of measles, 18-year-old Sally sees the neighbors' handsome son Eddie, now attired in the uniform of the US Navy arrive home for a few days' leave before his ship sails into the Atlantic to face German warships and U-boats.
What will Sally and Eddie do when alone together for a few hours on a sunny summer's afternoon?
All characters and events depicted in this story are fictional, with any similarity to people living or dead coincidental and unintentional. Only characters aged 18 and over are in any sexual situations. Please enjoy 'Sally & the Sailor' and rate and comment.
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NORFOLK, VIRGINIA, 1943
"Sally Jane Simpson, do you spend your nights dreaming up new ways to annoy me?"
I returned the sponge to the bucket, sighed and turned around, seeing my mother Jeanette standing behind me on the porch, her hands on her hips, her stern expression clearly indicating that she was displeased with me.
"Is there a problem, Mom?" I asked.
Mom indicated the living room windows. "Sally, you have cleaned this window, and this one and this one, but not the one in the center? What is the meaning of this?"
"Mom, relax, I haven't forgotten it or not done it, I haven't got to it yet," I said. "I'll clean it now." I picked up the sponge and began to wash the glass. "Satisfied?"
"You are disorganized as always Sally. Stubborn too. It will only lead you into big trouble sooner rather than later, young lady."
"Do you really think so?" I asked sarcastically.
"You are also too smart for your own good, Sally," my mother pointed out sternly as she went inside, leaving me to finish cleaning the windows. "Get on with your work."
Mom may well have carried me for nine months and given birth to me, but I often wondered if somehow the hospital where I was born had made a mistake and given me to the wrong family. For one, I was the only blonde in the family. My older sister Shirley had red hair like Mom, while our three brothers John Junior, Joe and Richard had dark hair like our father John Senior. My parents, sister and brothers were also tall people while I, the youngest child in the family scraped in at a scrawny four feet eleven. Without doubt, I was the runt of the litter.
Despite my diminutive size, I was quite a handful growing up. I often found it hard to concentrate in class or finish schoolwork or homework assignments, my poor attention span leading me to getting into trouble for staring out the classroom windows at things that interested me outdoors. While I sported long blonde locks and feminine appearance, I was also an ardent tomboy who loved to wear overalls and jeans. Getting me into a dress for church every Sunday was always a battle of wills.
To the despair of my mother who believed that good little girls should play quietly and be seen and not heard, my tomboyish ways ensured that I always wanted to be outside building forts, climbing trees, playing soldiers, Cowboys and Indians, or joining in football and baseball with my brothers, male cousins and the other boys, rather than sitting inside playing quiet girls' games with my sister, female cousins and the other girls.
Now I was aged 18 and still a tomboy, dressed today in a check shirt, short denim overalls that came down to my knees with my feet bare. Again to Mom's displeasure, I often went barefoot, Mom fretting that my lack of shoes would lead people to think we were poor. However, today Mom gave no comment about my clothes as they were appropriate given I was working around the house.
Tensions between Mom and I were rising by the day, the fact that we were the only ones in the house not helping matters. Shirley was by now married and had a young son and daughter, my niece and nephew and they obviously did not live with us. Shirley's husband Tom was serving in the army in Europe, the same place where my youngest brother Richard was serving. John Junior and Joe were both serving in the Navy, although John in the Atlantic fighting German U-Boats, Joe in the Pacific fighting the Japanese. Dad had served in the Great War, and now was doing war related work for the Government, which kept him away for weeks and months at a time.
Normally, I would have been at work too during the day, giving Mom and me less opportunity to butt heads and get on each other's nerves. As soon as the war broke out 18 months ago, I happily quit school to work as a factory hand, women needed in these roles due to the men joining the armed forces. Nobody at school tried to talk me out of my decision, I think they were glad to see the back of me.
Working in the factory was hard at times, but I embraced it, glad to be doing my part for the war effort and enjoying the company of the women I worked with. I was counting the days until I could go back to work - it was now Thursday, and I could return Monday. Four sleeps.
I had already been off work sick for one full week, and this was my second week. From somewhere I had caught the measles, and the doctor and my superiors had ordered me to take the full two weeks off work to fully recover and more importantly not risk infecting any other girls.
In the early stages of the illness I was largely bedridden, too sick to argue with Mom about anything. It was as I started to improve slightly later in the week that Mom and I began to argue, this situation not helped by me having certain female problems that came up every four weeks.
On the Friday morning I was pretty sick, tired and cranky, lying in bed suffering stomach cramps. I could hear Mom in the kitchen, having coffee with several female friends and her own mother, obviously my grandmother. I could hear Mom saying, "Little Miss Sally is being a complete little madam at the moment, she has the curse and is driving me absolutely crazy. I could happily strangle that girl with her own sanitary belt when she's like this."
I went redder than my measles rash at its worst. Obviously I didn't want everyone knowing I had my period, however at least it was only women she was telling. Such things were never discussed around men of course. I think I would have died of embarrassment had she done that.
Now I was over my monthly women's problems and feeling much better following my bout of measles, but still on strict medical instruction to keep away from work. I was keeping busy around the house and garden helping Mom with chores, but with differing views on how to complete these things more effectively, clashes were inevitable.
Finished cleaning the window that was causing my mother so much anxiety, I moved on to the next set and thought more about the things Mom and I squabbled over. Some of it was so illogical. That very morning I had taken too long in the bathroom for my mother's liking. To my complete indignation I had her pounding on the door while I was sitting on the toilet, telling me to hurry up and reminding me that 'toilet paper does not grow on trees, Sally.' When I gave her the somewhat snappy reply that toilet paper did indeed come from trees, there was yet another squabble through the bathroom door.
I looked through the windows and into the house, and could see that I might be left alone for a couple of hours. Mom and her friends were all accomplished at sewing - a talent passed to my sister Shirley but definitely not to me - and spent as much time as possible making clothes for the war effort. I could see Mom placing some of the clothes in a box and carry them to the door, and knew she would be going out.
"I'm taking these into town Sally," Mom said as she passed by me. "When I return, I expect all of the windows to be cleaned. Is that clear, Sally?"
"Very clear, I'll get them done," I replied, relieved by my mother's departure and not wanting to give her an excuse to hang around and argue with me.
I cleaned the window and watched as Mom went into the garage. I heard the car door open and close, then Mom start the car and reverse down the driveway. As the car vanished up our street, I looked at the flawless blue Virginia skies over Norfolk. Summer 1943 sure had been a nice one, plenty of warm and sunny weather throughout June and into July, and sure to continue into the next month of August. It was such a perfect afternoon that it was hard to believe there was a war raging on both sides of America.
I was very glad that my mother had driven herself into town, and not asked me to drive her. I had always loved cars being a tomboy, and got my license at the first chance. However Mom said I drove too fast and was both irresponsible and reckless behind the wheel, so usually when we went out in the car together Mom drove. But even when I was at the wheel and Mom in the passenger seat, it felt like she was driving given how many directions she always gave me.
Finishing the last of the windows, I walked with the bucket and tipped the dirty water into the garden bed, then ran the sponge under the tap and re-filling the bucket with clean water ahead of cleaning the windows at the back of the house. However, as I was about to start on my way back there, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye at the house next door and turned.
A smile came over my face as I saw who had made the shadow. The house was owned by the Evans family, and they had been our neighbors for years. Mr. and Mrs. Evans had two daughters and two sons and it was their youngest son Edward who was making his way up the garden path to the front door.
Edward was never called Edward, he was always called Eddie, and at 18 he was the same age as me. We were in the same class together at school and always great friends. As kids we would climb trees, play football and baseball and build forts together to the dismay of my mother, who always longed for a more feminine daughter.
Eddie and I were always getting into trouble at school together, many times beating blackboard dusters out after class or serving detention and writing 200 lines about how we must not do whatever infraction we had committed that day. We were the ones responsible for dubbing our skinny, fussy male sixth grade teacher and the portly, blustering, bad-tempered principal 'Laurel and Hardy', nicknames that stuck much to their displeasure.
Out of school we would get into trouble too. One Saturday we spent far too long in the forest together, and returned to find four stern parents waiting for us, my father saying 'Well, well, well, if it isn't Dorothy Arnold and Judge Crater." It was lucky that our parents didn't know that we had stolen a bottle of beer and drank it while in the woods that day, otherwise we would have been in ten times as much trouble as we were in.
Eddie had most certainly grown into a handsome young man, and as I had grown older I had become increasingly aware of his good looks; his fine physique, his luxurious dark brown hair, smoldering brown eyes and perfect skin. And I got the impression that Eddie found me attractive too. He would look at me in a certain way, a few months ago when he was home he was pruning his parents' hedge that divided our gardens. It was laundry day, and my bras and my panties were hanging on the line to dry. Bras were a bit of a waste of time and money for me, I struggled to fill an A cup but at the insistence of my mother I wore a brassiere.
I could see that Eddie was most interested in my underwear, casting discrete glances at our washing line clearly liking my white, pink and blue cotton full-brief panties and my bras and this excited me. I could feel in the bra is was wearing my nipples getting hard and tingling, and between my legs the cotton saddle of my panties was getting damp.
Today I could again feel the excitement in my bra and panties as my blue eyes feasted on Eddie's tall and masculine form, my imagination filling my head with no end of unladylike fantasies. Like most young men, Eddie had enlisted upon turning 18, and was attired in the smart uniform of the US Navy.
Eddie's summer uniform - a white shirt, trousers and hat with a navy blue tie and shiny black shoes made him even more good looking. Eddie did not seem to have noticed me, and I watched as he fumbled in the bag he was carrying for his house keys as nobody from his family home.
I hadn't seen Eddie for quite a while, not since the weekend that he was admiring my bras and my panties on the washing line, so quickly forgot all about my window cleaning chores and made my way next door to the Evans house as fast as my bare feet would carry me.
Eddie was absorbed in looking for his keys and did not see or hear me approach, the young sailor only becoming aware of my presence when I said, "Hi Eddie."
Eddie jumped and turned around, smiling when he saw me. "Oh hi there Sally, I didn't see you there."
"Sorry, did I make you jump?"
