All characters engaged in sexual activity are aged 18 or older
I write in English and not the Americanized version and hope things make sense to everyone
The Second World War had not long ended and rationing was still in force on various things. My family had all survived, at least physically. My dad had been in the Navy despite having lost an eye in the pit before I was born. He often told the story that there had only ever been two men enlisted in the Royal Navy who only had one eye. Him and Lord Nelson. He always put "Him" first. In truth there were others called up in a similar capacity such was the country's needs in wartime and also there was the small fact that Nelson had both eyes at the time of joining the Navy. Losing his eye had come later but why let facts get in the way of a good story and one that actually was repeated right up until his funeral service.
My mother's brother, Uncle Gordon, had also served in the Navy and spent time on various vessels out in the Far East keeping an eye on Japanese manoeuvres out there. He had not really seen too much action but his time out there had left him with flashbacks that would now probably be referred to as PTSD and as time went on he spent periods in a psychiatric hospital prior to his death at a fairly young age.
The area I grew up in had been quite badly bombed at various stages as it was a coal mining community and the enemy had attempted to reduce many of the coal mines to rubble to restrict the ability to produce iron and steel for the war effort. There was still evidence in the form of derelict buildings that had never been re-built for whatever reason and still air raid shelters that were no longer in use but had become a perfect playground for younger children and the ideal places after dark for a young teenage boy to take his first lessons in sex with local girls who were also keen to explore the sexuality starting to blossom in their knickers.
It felt like teenagers were anxious to make up for lost time and my first tentative fumblings with the underwear of girls took place in the hidden depths of a shelter in the next street to the one I lived in.
I had left school at 16 and taken up a job in the offices at the local pit. Both my father and grandfather had worked down that hole but from personal experience they knew "the price of coal was too dear" as the famous quotation went. They both determined that if I was to work for the newly created National Coal Board it would be behind a desk and not underground.
Mining communities are a bit of a law unto themselves. Probably a bit like the armed forces. When you go to work each day knowing your life and safety depend on the other men around you and in turn their's depends on you a bond develops. A kind of band of brothers type thing.
Almost everyone I knew owed something to someone else. Not in monetary terms but in gratitude for past behaviour. Loyalty was a massive thing. When you owed someone you owed them forever. At the time I took it for granted but looking back I count myself so lucky to have grown up in that environment.
The community produced hard men. But hard men with respect for their women and families. I never heard my dad or my granddad swear in front of a woman or child.
My grandfather was badly injured in a roof fall about the time I was born. He would have died under the rubble but five or six guys that he was working with dug him out with their bare hands and got him to the surface for hospitalisation. They all ended up bleeding and in pain but that didn't matter as long as they got him out alive. He was off work for a long time and the mine owners eventually found him work in the wage office as his disability restricted him from working underground again.
One of those guys was a Harry Jordan. He lived a few streets away with his wife and as the miners' code dictated my family took them under their wing as a way of thanking Harry.
As I grew up Harry and his wife, Sally, had a young son. Practice in the local area dictated that he was also named Harry after his dad but everyone called him Junior.
Harry senior was only in his thirties and joined the army during the war. One of the bravest of the brave he landed on the Normandy beaches on D Day 1944 only to be cut down by a German sniper before he made it off the beach.
That left Sally as a single mother bringing up Junior on a war widow's pension along with money from the bits of cleaning work she undertook to try to make ends meet. Again the miners' code swung into action and no-one allowed Junior to go short of anything wherever possible. My family more than others made sure we looked after the two of them. Any jobs that needed doing around the house were seen to by a mixture of myself, my dad and my granddad. Both my mother and grandmother were prodigious bakers and whenever pies or cakes were baked there was always an extra one that found its way to Sally and Junior. They almost became part of our family and I am sure that my granddad often helped out with money as he felt the most indebted of all. He owed his life to Harry senior and the other lads and he never forgot that until the day he died.
By now I had passed my eighteenth birthday, not that that was too significant as the coming of age in England was still twenty one. At least I could now officially go to the pub without word getting back to my dad. In all honesty I had been visiting one or two of the more out of the way pubs on the outskirts of town but now I didn't have to be so secretive about it.
Junior was at school and starting to show an aptitude for football. As both my dad and granddad had their own mining disabilities, I was volunteered to take him out onto the local fields for a kickabout. We had got to the point where several evenings each week Junior would call round asking me to spend some time helping him to hone his football skills. It brought me more and more in contact with Sally as I often dropped him round at her house after our football exertions.
Sally was in her late thirties, so about twenty years older than me. At that stage that meant she was far too old for my wandering eye and wandering hands although from time to time she did manage to find her way into my thoughts when I masturbated and imagined what it would be like to finally lose my virginity.
She was not unattractive in a plain kind of way. Long dark hair that had started to show hints of grey after the events of the last few years and a very engaging smile when she found an excuse to show a little happiness. Her clothes were fairly simple and functional. Nothing special at all and always loose enough that there was no indication of the body that lay beneath them. For a long while her eyes had seemed dead but there were signs that she was at last coming to terms with her husband's death.
Sally had taken note of the fact that I was now old enough to drink and from time to time invited me in and suggested we share a drink as a thank you for me starting to become a surrogate father to Junior. It was the days when the local pubs had off licence sections. You took a jug or other container and they filled it from their pumps and you carried it home to drink.
I started to look forward to spending an hour sharing a drink with Sally and it was clear she also enjoyed the company. She had moved to the area when she married Harry and had no nearby relations that I ever saw.
As I got to know Sally better her trips into my masturbatory library became more common and I sensed a friendship growing despite the age difference between us. My family even welcomed my spending time round there as they knew I was keeping an eye on her and helping to bring her out of herself a little.
During one of our chats Sally disclosed the fact that she had a birthday on the horizon - a notable one. She was about to turn Forty but didn't want any fuss if possible. That night when I got home, I told my mum and dad and they were adamant that they were going to give Sally a bit of a party - nothing too over the top. Just our family and her and Junior.
Mum went round to see Sally a couple of days later and it was all agreed. A fairly simple spread and a few jugs of beer from the pub. I could tell that Sally was a little apprehensive but realised that it was another way of our family repaying their debt for her husband's past heroics.
As the appointed day grew closer I could tell Sally was getting more and more concerned but I promised her I would look after her and everything would be ok. There was a look in her eyes that seemed to say that it was nice to feel that someone was looking out for her after the years of fighting her own battles.
The day came around and I helped carry all the pies and cakes that my mother and grandmother had especially prepared and Sally's eyes lit up to see the trouble people had gone to just for her benefit. Dad and I went off to the pub to fill up every jug we could find with beer to get things going and by late afternoon the little house was full of laughter in a way that it hadn't been for some time.
Sally had made an effort too, wearing a simple red dress and she had clearly done her hair and added a little make up. Together with her beaming smile she looked more pretty than I had ever remembered her before.
An old gramophone had been wheeled out and soon there was some dancing and singing along to popular songs. I had never acquired the skills of dancing and left it to others. Sally kept asking me to dance with her but I fobbed her off with the excuse "Later."
By early evening people were starting to disperse. My sister was only ten years old and mum and dad decided it was bedtime for her. Junior had already been taken up to bed after all the excitement of the day. Before we knew it Sally and I were the only ones left and I helped her tidy up a little before we settled down to take our time with the remains of the beer. We sat with very little conversation until Sally piped up.
"Right David Hunt. You have been promising me a dance all day. I won't be put off any longer." It felt strange to hear her call me David as I was always Dave any other time. It felt a bit like an order from a school mistress and I decided I had better do as I was told.
She went over to the gramophone and set it in motion. I had run out of excuses and after apologising for my lack of ability I took Sally in my arms for the very first time.
The song was quite a slow, sentimental one and I would hesitate to call it dancing but gradually we got closer as we swayed from side to side. The closeness of her body and my raging hormones soon had my dick growing at quite an alarming rate and I was sure Sally would be able to feel it pushing against her body. Surprisingly she pulled me even closer and I was sure I heard a gentle sigh as we melded even closer together.
