Like every single one of you readers, there have been incidents, periods in my life I would say I am not proud of having been involved in. So, being a flawed human being simply makes me... more normal than not. I have avoided writing about most of it, but now at age 74, I really don't care what some might think. To those who delight in making horrible comments, look in your OWN closet.
This is one of those periods.
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Sharon and I had not been married all that long when the official looking letter arrived. We were at the point of learning about sex and life and all of the trappings that come with finding our feet out from under the parent's table and suddenly on our own.
We had very close to nothing, an 8 foot wide by 42 foot long one bedroom trailer, an old Dodge red ram with a burnt valve, a beat up old pickup that was unsafe past 30 MPH. And my old 16 foot boat, of course.
The job at the mill stacking paper bags paid the bills, barely. $2.27 an hour, 11 PM to 7 AM. Sharon worked at a jewelry store in a nearby town, earning the pittance minimum wage plus 5% of whatever she managed to sell.
Walt, the old fart that owned the store was clearly a pervert, he had 3 young sales clerks, all of them cute as a button, Sharon one of them. He liked looking at them, that was obvious. Plus he often suggested that not bothering with a bra at work was good for business.
Sharon told me about that, and asked if she should go without, since no bra was a bit outrageous back in those days. The other two sales girls didn't, and they seemed to get the better sales.
"After all, he is my boss." She told me like that made it OK. I just shrugged, not paying much attention. It was Salmon season and I wanted my boat running.
It probably was good for business, too, because every now and then Sharon actually did manage to sell something.
So. We were getting by, no idea what the future would bring, until that letter.
Drafted!
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Some God forsaken place called Viet Nam. Now I was aware that already two guys from our town came home in boxes and I had no intent at all of that happening to me.
I joined the Navy. That caused a brief fuss but finally four years as a volunteer beat two years as drafted.
Hard to end up shot way out in the middle of the ocean was my way of thinking.
Wanna bet?
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It seems in some areas, the Navy guys can find themselves on some hit and run missions. No boats involved at all except to get us somewhere. We shot at trees and brush a lot.
But, I was in the latrine anyway when it happened. One of the little people fired at the Moon, and managed to hit me.
So yep, my bad luck and I got hit. Bad part was it messed me up, the good luck part was I got sent home and wasn't dead yet.
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Sharon and I had the "talk" before I left. We were very busy sexually early on , so we held each other and cried, told each other that "if" anything happened while we were apart, it would be meaningless. Sex was a very big part of our life at that time, we would be completely honest with each other.
Yeah, sure.
In all of the time I was over there, I got a couple of hand jobs, and mentioned that in my letters to Sharon. But that was all, I saw the guys lined up to get shots in their asses, wanted no part of that.
Sharon never mentioned anything at all, so I just assumed she was dealing with doing without. Faithful little wife, sitting home alone. Something to hang onto for me.
Yeah, sure.
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Finally back home, we were sitting in the living room watching blurry TV when a guy named Doug showed up. Finding me there, he suddenly acted oddly. That was a surprise, Doug and I never really hung out so what was he doing at my place?
His family owned the garbage company so his job as a driver exempted him from the draft. Necessary service industry, they called that. I still don't get that but oh well.
He ended up inviting us to a party at his house, another odd thing, then beat a hasty retreat.
I was suspicious, Sharon and I had a talk, more like a yelling match, it turned out she was fucking Doug. Or had been.
"Just a couple of times is all. It was no big deal and we did talk about that." She told me, along with lots of tears.
I admit to being pissed off, but she reminded me we did have that agreement, and at that point she only mentioned Doug. So I gritted my teeth, the past was the past.
Sharon told me that I was way better, how much she loved me and only me while doing those things a woman can do that makes a young man forget.
Yeah, I know. Dumbass.
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I wasn't going to go to Doug's party, but that Saturday came and we had the choice of that or the movies. There would be booze at the party. So, with things being forgiven, we decided to go.
I was home now so things were going to be like before, no more messing around.
Doug and his wife Jan had a nice back yard, stone barbeque, fish pond, really nice. There was lots of booze, I started in on that and sat chatting with Bobby and Terry, a couple of guys I knew. Doug was busy cooking chicken while Jan, Sharon and a girl named Lisa were having a hen party inside.
If there were any conflicts going on with the women's side of things, I didn't see any. I just figured nobody knew about any of it. Other than a nod, I didn't talk to Doug.
Lisa I already noticed was fun to look at, she was stacked and had on a knit top that was best described as naughty. Jan not so much, she was way more conservative as was Sharon. I thought so anyway.
Just a party. Three women, four guys.
I got drunk.
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I was dreaming, beats me about what. My face felt cool, I opened my eyes and it was pretty dark. There was a night light across the room, I was on my back in a beanbag chair. I could see someone, they had a cool wash cloth and were wiping my face, that felt nice.
The light framed some long hair, this was a nice dream, here was an angel wiping my face. Long legs slid over me, I felt some cloth, the edges of a robe, I guess. Something soft, it took a few seconds to realize that was a bare breast.. Something brushed my thigh, I was now awake. That felt like... pubic hair? Not soft and downy like Sharon's, but thicker, fuller.
"What?" I began.
"Shhhh." She said. Her hand dropped down and fondled me, the reaction was instant of course. The motions changed from just a touch to a solid stroking.
"Big. Good." She giggled, slid downward. Now I felt something wet, as her mouth closed over me. Only Sharon had ever done that, and just once. She had jumped up after and ran to the sink, spitting. She never tried that again.
What was being done to me I had never experienced before, it was amazing. Tongue swirling, fondling, touching, one of my hands was outstretched cupping a bare breast. It was very soft, smaller than my Sharon's very firm ones.
I had no idea who this was, but I was not resisting.
Her body slid back up mine, she nuzzled my neck as she stretched out lengthwise to my body. I tried to turn but my legs felt trapped, I realized my pants were around my knees. I managed to sit up, she rolled to her side as I did that, reached down to slip my pants and briefs all the way off. In what was still a drunken haze, I turned back, looked at her.
It was Jan.
"Jan?" I whispered.
"Shhhh!" She said.
"What are you doing?"
Hey, how is THAT for a stupid question? She had my dick in her hand.
"Getting even with the son of a bitch." She said. Her right leg slid over me and pressed me back, and things slid together just like they are supposed to.
