Ramblings of an Old Man – Part 13 An epilogue to the story, and life.
Introduction:
In this, final, part to my story, I quickly tie up the loose ends, and conclude the tale!
Part 13 – An epilogue to the story, and life.
If you have followed the journey to this point, you will know that at the end of Part 12, I had just graduated from my military Advanced Engineering Training course. I had turned down a coveted posting to Berlin, to enable me to remain close to my partner, and future wife, Jayne.
Jayne was, at the point we met, in divorce proceedings, being estranged and living separately from her first husband. We had been together about nine months and planned to move in together as soon as I had settled in at my new duty unit and could find a suitable flat to rent. She had accepted an offer from my parents, to move into their spare room, temporarily, until we got ourselves sorted. This allowed her to escape a shitty, one room bedsit, let by a morally corrupt landlord. It also bought her much nearer to where I was based, allowing me to spend my off-duty days with her more frequently.
My new job was at a base workshop. It entailed the repair and maintenance of equipment returned from the field. After the relative ‘excitement’ of my earlier overseas deployment, on an operational unit, the work was, frankly, unchallenging, and boring. It was essentially a nine-to-five factory job; exactly what I joined the military to get away from. The plus side, if there was one, was that there was little by way of field work, or exercises. This meant most weekends were free. I would get away straight after duty on Friday, make the modest one-hour drive to my parents’ gaff, and not have to return to base until the following Monday morning.
To my surprise, when my olds invited Jayne into their home, it was accepted that ‘her room’ would actually be ‘our room.’ That we would share a bed, and unspoken but obviously, a sexual relationship there. They had previously been very ‘old school’ with regards to pre-marital sex but had, apparently, mellowed with age. It was more than a little disconcerting for us though when the time came.
My father had collected Jayne and her belongings, and bought her ‘home,’ the weekend after I left the training establishment, so she was already settled into her new space. On taking up any new post, you inevitably got lumbered with all the shit duties (guard, weekend cover, duty NCO, etc.) at first. So, it was several weeks before I got my first free weekend to visit. Miraculously, by then Jayne had also found a new job with a very local firm, within walking distance, and was overjoyed when I met her at their door, when she knocked off.
When she saw me there, she rushed into my arms and threw herself at me. Kissing me passionately and crushing her body against mine, much to the delight of her new work colleagues, who wasted no time in shouting lewd comments at us, suggesting Jayne had been ‘gagging for it’ all day. But they were not wrong. Jayne was obviously as hot and horny, as was I, and let me know it, in no uncertain terms. We had to cool our ardour though. We would be going from here, back to our temporary lodgings, where my olds and younger brother would be at home too. Much as we were both desperate to sate our appetites; the longing heightened by our weeks of separation, we would have to wait a bit longer.
It was purgatory having to endure the ‘normal routine’ for the rest of the day. The catch-up chatter. The ‘welcome home’ meal prepared and served by my mother. The after dinner drinks my father insisted on plying us with, the Friday evening TV marathon. Eventually though, the hands on the clock crept round to a time where we could all pretend it was legitimate for Jayne and me to ‘call it a night, after a busy day.’ At the same time, we all knew exactly what would ensue as soon as we went to bed. In particular, our kid was smirking ear-to-ear, as he stared knowingly at Jayne, causing her to blush crimson, knowing what he was visualising, in his minds eye.
Taking our leave, we headed upstairs to complete our bedtime routine; showering independently, brushing our teeth and donning ‘sensible’ nightwear, suitable to be worn about the house if it became necessary later. With that, we climbed into bed together. Despite having to suppress our lust since we reunited, the thought of fucking, whilst my family were downstairs, knowing what we were doing, made both of us feel uneasy. We just lay there, like a couple of reclining terracotta warriors. Unwilling to initiate intimacy. It was as if this was the first time we had lay together.
It was strange. We had any such scruples when we would regularly have sex, at our friends, Barbie, and Ken’s house. They knew full well we were screwing in their spare room. Hell, they could clearly hear us at it, as we could often hear them too! Why was this different. It was obviously the family presence. At least it was for me. We were all adults. We all knew the score. But there was something freaky about them knowing, or at least believing, you were upstairs shagging.
Something, somehow had to give. I took Jayne gently by the hand, and as best as I could, assured her nothing had changed in my love or desire for her, and tried to explain why I was holding back. Jayne concurred that, although they were not her own relatives, they were treating her like ‘one of the family’ already; so, she felt the same unease. What had been the final ‘nail in the coffin’ for her that night, was my brother’s mental undressing of her as we were coming up. I made a note to myself, to ‘counsel’ him on the error of his ways at the earliest opportunity.
When I told Jayne that it did not matter to me if she did not want to ‘play’ that night, the relief on her face was obvious. I went on, it would not be enjoyable for either of us if we were constantly on edge. We would find a way to overcome. I would wait. I had waited for her before, at the beginning of our relationship. I would do so again. She was worth the wait. With a simple, but meaningful kiss. Jayne thanked me, yet again for my understanding, rolled to her side, spooned back into me, and pulled my arm across her to hold her tightly. With my free hand, I killed the bedside light and frustrations not withstanding, we settled down for sleep.
In the early dawn light, I dreamed that I was back in Jayne’s tiny bedsit. Naked on her single bed. Her naked beside me, slowly caressing my rigid cock. I tried desperately to cling on to sleep. Subconsciously praying to hang in there for the ‘happy ending’ I urgently needed. But sleep receded and the details of the dream became blurry, except…
Except for the warm hand, slowly wanking my cock.
As my eyes fully opened, I saw Jayne was already wide awake. She was still clad in her conservative nightie, sitting sideways beside me on the bed, legs curled under her bum, in that double jointed way only women seem to be able to achieve. It was of course her hand that had woken me. She had teased my cock from the front of my pyjama trousers and was gently stroking me to full hardness. When she noticed my eyes had opened, she hit me with a beaming smile and raised the forefinger of her free hand to her lips, in the universal “shush, be quiet,” gesture. My brain was still mush, but I was conscious enough to understand and not want to spoil the ripples of pleasure that were coursing through me.
I was confused at the turn of events, but without doubt overjoyed at what was happening. Reaching out, I placed a hand on the side of Jayne’s face to acknowledge her actions, and hopefully silently convey my love for her at that moment, eliciting another beaming smile. As she continued to slowly masturbate me, I allowed my hand to drift down her neck, past her collarbone, onto her left breast, immediately finding her already hardening nipple through the fabric of her nightie. A soft groan and a nod of her head was my permission to continue, then move to the other breast to gently roll its teat between thumb and fingers too. Jayne has always liked to have her tits stimulated, and this occasion was no different.
After just a few moments though, Jayne released me, rose to her knees, and in a single motion, cast her nightdress over her head and onto the floor beside the bed. She was now naked before me, as I had seen in my dream. Her small, but magnificent tits proudly thrust towards me, and her jet-black pubic bush starkly contrasted against the pale skin of her belly and thighs.
With another admonishment to be quiet, Jayne now fully undid my PJ trousers, and pulled them off to join her nightwear on the floor, but the jacket stayed in place. After briefly taking me back in hand, to ensure that I was still hard enough (no danger of that not being the case right then,) she lay on her side next to, but facing away from me and lifted her top leg, silently inviting me to penetrate her from behind.
I did not need telling twice. I nestled in close behind Jayne and positioned my hard cock along the length of her vulva, feeling her dampness along its hairy cleft. Without hesitation, Jayne reached back, grasped my penis, and after a few subtle rubs against her, to share her moistness, she fed me slowly, but deeply into her wet opening.
I do not know how long Jayne had been stimulating me before I had surfaced from slumber, but it was immediately apparent that it was long enough to bring me much closer to cuming than I would have liked. I was on the verge of popping within minutes of penetration and told her I needed to pause a moment to let things settle down. Even as I said it, I knew I was wasting my breath. I sensed, correctly, this was to be one of those occasions when Jayne just wanted to ‘service me,’ with no thought of her own orgasm. She confirmed this by saying something like, “No, don’t stop, just let it happen.”
It is a psychological thing, I am sure. But with the need to ‘perform’ for Jayne taken out of the equation, the immediate need to finish abated. I started moving in and out of her with slow, rhythmic strokes. I felt Jayne start to respond and gently push back to meet my thrusts. I was starting to think this could be a two-way street after all. And reached round to find and stimulate her clitoris. But Jayne moved my hand away and just repositioned it to her breasts, urging me again not to worry about her. I was disappointed but knew it was pointless to argue with her; when she wanted to just give, there was no argument that worked.
Resigning myself to the inevitable, I gradually deepened and quickened my pace, which Jayne matched, whispering words of encouragement, for me to “Let go, let me feel it inside me, cum for me, please.” Well, who could not oblige. Mindful of the fact I was still under rules of silence, I did let go, and together we took me past the point of no return, and I ejaculated deep and copiously into Jayne’s willing body. She had not climaxed but did not care. I loved her for that, and for every time she would ‘reward me’ that way.
As we lay, hugging close, still coupled but with me softening, my heart rate gradually returned too normal, as did my power of speech. I asked the obvious; what had changed since we went to sleep, to make her feel comfortable with doing what we just did. Her explanation made perfect sense to me. She told me that when we came to bed last night, everyone would have assumed we were going to fuck. Even if we were to say, “Oh no, mum and dad, nothing happened,” nobody would believe us. So, if they were going to think that anyway, we might just as well make it true, and fuck away, and enjoy it! Perfect logic in my books!
What little reserve may have lingered evaporated completely when we finally made it down to breakfast. The rest of the family were already up, starting their day. They could not have been less interested in what we had or had not done in the privacy of our own room overnight. From that point on, and for several months to come, we just got on with our lives, loves and love making when and how we wanted to.
Oh, we were of course discrete. We did not rub our intimacy in other faces, just got on and enjoyed it when and how we could. There were times we had the place to ourselves for a few hours, and would let loose, and go at it hard and loud. But where necessary, we would be just as happy with slow and quiet. And that is the way it should be.
Whilst things had settled into a comfortable and workable routine, I was still determined that we needed a place of our own at my duty base. Each week I searched the local papers and bulletin boards for a suitable let for us. I viewed a few places, but those within our budget were basically hovels, which I would not dream of subjecting Jayne to. But unexpectedly, events ruled out the need for further searching.
Much to the surprise of all of us, Jayne’s divorce was finalised much quicker than expected. Her, now ex-husband, had not contested the proceedings, despite being cited for ‘unreasonable behaviour’ (his violence towards Jayne) in the divorce petition So, there was no need for lengthy court proceedings. She was a free agent again.
Coincidentally at that time, I overheard chatter amongst the married guys, that there was an unusually high number of empty married pads on the patch. Hmmm! A seminal plan started to formulate in my mind. I spoke with the base Housing Officer about the rumours I had heard. Yes, he confirmed. At that time, there were indeed many houses available, with no waiting list. Even newlyweds were virtually guaranteed to be allocated quarters almost at once. This was unlikely to change soon, the MOD was in one of its regular cost cutting periods, and all but essential postings and movements were frozen. My plan started to grow roots and shoots.
But there were no romantic gestures. No candlelit dinners or rings in Champagne flutes. I had been burned doing that sort of things before. And to be honest, I did not hold out masses of hope that having just received her divorce decree, Jayne would be willing to dive straight back in again. I simply explained the practicalities to her. I.E., if we were to marry, we would get a quarter straight away. Fully furnished. Fully equipped. Relatively low rent. “What do you think?” I asked her.
Without hesitation Jayne responded “Yes, I am up for that.” Belying my belief that she would turn me down. This made me feel a bit shitty for not making the ‘proposal’ a bit more heartfelt and personal. But it was what it was, and she has since consistently assured me it was just as well accepted, without all the bells and whistles.
The decision made; we were both keen to complete the act as soon as humanly possible. Long story short, we were married within three months, in a low key, family only, registry office wedding. After a short, UK honeymoon, I was allocated, and we occupied, our first married pad. A nice, two-bedroom, semi-detached house on the base estate.
There is an old and worn-out joke; ‘Scientists have invented a food that suppresses the female sex drive. They named it Wedding Cake.’ In fairness, for us at least, it was not immediate. But it definitely marked a turning point. It seemed ironic that, after years of having to engineer times and places for sex around others, the moment it becomes fully socially acceptable, and you have the privacy of your own home? Well…
It is hard to explain how things changed. We still had sex together, at first at least. But it started to get very…well, vanilla shall we say. I can only really think of one more occasion worthy of retelling in any detail.
We had been married just over two years at that time, and Jayne had presented me with a wonderful baby son. Almost immediately after his birth the MOD, with its impeccable sense of timing, decided it would be perfect to move me to a new location. (We would move a further twelve times over the next twenty-five years before I retired from service). This one was a dozer though. An artillery range on a remote Scottish island. The only redeeming feature was that it was an accompanied post, with housing available, so Jayne could come too. It was to be a two-year duty…And Jayne hated virtually every day of it. The remoteness and isolation, with a young baby was crippling for her.
A brief moment of joy was bought to her, when her parents decided to visit her and the baby, staying with us for a few weeks, part way through. It was great for her to reconnect with them, and it also offered us the opportunity to get out together as a couple, alone, a few times. The doting grandparents were overjoyed to, literally, be left holding the baby.
On one such outing, we had decided to go for a trek along the shoreline of the island. There were endless, unspoiled beaches, where you could walk for miles without seeing another human being, though the wildlife could be amazing. And unusually, the weather was warm and dry. Even the omnipresent Atlantic winds had taken a day off. I could tell Jayne was feeling more relaxed and amiable than she had for months, as we walked along the sandy shore. But what happened next was totally out of character and unexpected.
At the intended end point of our walk, we had stopped, hand-in-hand, to watch a bob of seals, basking and preening on a rocky outcrop just offshore. Without warning, I felt something brush across my groin. Glancing down to see what was going on, I saw that it was in fact Jayne’s free hand, that she had reached across, to stroke the front of my trousers. Turning to face her, I saw a Lascivious grin on her face, that I had not seen for a long time. I looked quizzically at her, smirking back, she announced, “I feel horny.”
Wow…That had come out of the blue. Absolutely the last thing I was expecting. But I reminded her that her olds were at home when we got back, and she would have to wait until much later, until the baby was settled and we had all gone to bed, if she wanted to play.
“Why wait,” Jayne said, “We are alone now. There is nobody for miles to see us, and if I wait, I will lose the urge again and might not get it back.” As she was saying this, her hand was unzipping my trousers and rummaged inside to find my penis.
Whilst one half of my brain was saying ‘who are you, and what have you done with Jayne; bring her back.’ The other was arguing ‘Shut the fuck up and fill your boots!’ The decision was made, when she drew me into a firm embrace and kissed me passionately on the mouth and growled, “Please, I really want this, now.” This was so totally out of character for Jayne, but I could see the want, which had been suppressed for a while now, in her eyes, and knew I could not resist; not that I really wanted to.
Taking Jayne’s hand, and with stiffening dick still protruding from my fly opening, I led her towards the dunes at the back of the beach. There was no need really. Jayne was right, the chances of being seen were minimal. We could have just gone for it there on the open sands. But the reserve in me needed at least the illusion of privacy. So, we climbed through the scrub grass and found a sheltered hollow on the landward side of the dunes, where I lay down the light jacket I was wearing, for us to sit on.
Now we were, so to speak, ‘in position,’ hesitation had crept back in, and we just sat and looked at each other for several minutes. Jayne was the one to break the ice again. Glancing down, she realised my cock was still fully exposed and giggled at the absurdity of it. She leaned in and started kissing and licking my face again, at the same time re-establishing a grip on my semi-hard penis and gently teasing up and down its length, causing my erection to strengthen.
After several minutes of this, I was obviously being too reticent for Jayne’s liking. With a huge sigh, she released my cock, unbuttoned her blouse, and pushed up her bra, baring her tits, with their turgid tips protruding, begging for attention. She also unbuttoned and lowered the zip on her jeans, making it perfectly clear she wanted consideration given to her too. To make it even plainer, she pulled my head down and guided my mouth to her left nipple, and my hand into the waistband of her knickers. Naturally, I complied.
It had been a while since sex was anything other than ‘Sunday morning, in bed, a no-frills mechanical process.’ But muscle memory soon kicked in, and premarital, furtive, wherever you can get away with it techniques resurfaced. As I groped further into Jayne’s pants, through her full pubic bush, I found her wet and willing cleft and started to work my fingers between her outer lips. Although her jeans were open for me, access was limited. So, I broke contact long enough to work them down lower, below her knees. Jayne took that a stage further, by kicking off her shoes and using her feet to work the garments off completely.
Unencumbered now by clothing, I was able to part Jayne’s thighs, giving me full, uninterrupted access to her vulva. I was not overly surprised to find she was soaking wet down there and used that wetness to lubricate my fingers to work on her labia, vagina, and clitoris, making her purr with pleasure. She was obviously enjoying herself, so far.
After several minutes of this manual stimulation, I decided to push my luck a bit. Jayne had not let me go down on her for such a long time. I loved doing so, and as she was being so open at the moment, I decided to take advantage of the situation and give it a go. My mouth had been glued to her breasts for some time now; that she had always liked. Slowly, trying not to make it too obvious what I was doing, I started to manoeuvre my way down her body, kissing and licking as I went. When I reached her bush, I gently tugged at her wiry curls, announcing my presence in that area. There was no objection, in fact Jayne started giving little squeals of pleasure as I teased like that. Going for broke, I repositioned myself. On my belly, head between her parted thighs, I drew my mouth straight towards its intended target, right on her bearded clam. Parting the curls and the outer lips with my thumbs, I licked the length of her cleft, from bottom to top. Ending with the flat of my tongue pressed firmly against her shrouded clit.
Any lingering doubt there may have been to that point evaporated immediately, at the contact. Jayne grasped my head in both of her hands and pressed me firmly against her nether regions. I was exactly where I wanted to be. I loved giving oral to a woman. And judging by her entreaties of “Oh yes, just there, oh please, please!” it was where Jayne wanted me to be too. I was very out of practice, but once again muscle memory cut in.
Licking, nibbling, sucking, and blowing on her clitoris and labia, and forcing my tongue into her vaginal opening as far as I could, soon had Jayne writhing beneath me. Her orgasm broke as I started to blow raspberries on her clitoris, a trick I had learned a few years back, which always seemed to achieve the desired result when the opportunity presented itself. Her hips lifted from the ground. Her fanny was pushed tight against my lips, and she gushed her girl cum onto my face, as for 20-30 seconds she quivered with abandon in her pleasure release.
Jayne collapsed, spent, back into the sandy hollow her wriggling butt had created beneath her. Her body relaxed, but she did not immediately release my head, so I continued to lap gently at her; careful not to apply too much direct pressure to her clit, which was swollen and still pulsing from her climax. To my surprise, her arousal did not diminish with her orgasm. In fact, it was starting to rise again.
After just a few more minutes oral stimulation. Jayne released my head and pulled me upwards, so she could again start to stroke my cock, which she had abandoned some time previously. The intensity of the situation had however kept me iron hard. She decided that I was hard enough for her and unfastened and pushed off my trousers and underpants; not easy at first with my shoes still on but soon remedied. We were both now naked below the waist, which really said only one thing, she wanted me to fuck her, there in the dunes.
As I had stood to remove my strides, I had had a quick recce down the beach to confirm we were still alone out there; we were. I knelt back down between Jayne’s legs, and without further ado, she pulled me towards her, so my cock nestled at her opening. She was still wet and ready from before, and I slid in fully without too much effort. As always, I had to take a brief pause to ‘acclimatise’ to being balls deep in her vagina but soon felt confident enough to start thrusting, without fear of prematurely busting a nut. As I slowly increased my tempo, Jayne rose to meet me, and her legs, crossed behind me, pulled me hard into her on each down stroke.
Miraculously, I lasted much longer than I thought would be possible, after so long on short rations. But the inevitable conclusion was reached, and I warned Jayne I was about to cum. I was overjoyed when she responded “Yes, yes. I’m with you.” As I let go, I felt her stiffen and heard her groan in pleasure, as she felt my shots erupting inside her. I kept going as long as I could after I came, to try and prolong her pleasure. It worked for both of us, and I soon felt a further small, but definite shuddering beneath me.
When we finished, we just stayed close together for, what seemed like ages, just marvelling at what had just happened. Soon we both realised that we were both still lay there, bare arsed, in the open air, and although there was virtually zero chance of being caught there like that, it felt quite ‘naughty’ to both of us, and we laughed and joked about it for a bit. As with all things good though, it had to end. We had to get dressed and return to reality. I wondered how I would keep a straight face when we got home, and Jayne’s olds asked if we had had an enjoyable time on our walk.
The Actual Epilogue
Well, there you have it. You have had the highlights of my sexual journey, in as much detail as I can recall, as promised. By my count, just five full sexual partners, plus a small handful of ‘playmates.’ Not exactly a contender for super stud status, but it was the hand I was dealt and played with.
When Jayne and I married, there was an expectation of a long and fulfilling intimate relationship. At least that was my expectation. But from an early point, things started to go down hill. Over the years I have tried repeatedly to pin down what caused that. I keep coming back to my military career. With hindsight, I should have quit and moved to civvy street much sooner. But I was too selfish to recognise the harm it was doing to our relationship, for what it was.
Being a service wife can be hard. Some women take to it, like ducks to water. Others find it much harder, even impossible. Jayne fell into the later category. If you cannot fit into the ‘wives club’ circle, it can be pretty isolating, often in a foreign land. Add lengthy periods of separation. In my case repeated deployments to Northern Ireland. The Falklands conflict. The Gulf war, the Balkans and UN peacekeeping duties. Not to mention weeks and months on exercises and manoeuvres.
We tried repeatedly to reignite our passion, when we realised things had tailed off again but nothing we tried seemed to work. We should have sought professional help but never did. In the end we, or really, I, I guess, gave up, rather than constantly face the hurt and humiliation of constant rejection. And full disclosure, I started to drink far too much, far too often, which did not exactly make me an attractive sexual partner; I am 15-years sober now, for what it is worth.
Way back in part 1, I am on record as saying I would never cheat on Jayne. That pledge holds true, sexless marriage or otherwise. I still love her far too much for that. It is all academic now anyway. The synopsis to my anthology reads “A dying man looks back on his sexual journey, from cradle to grave.” There were no symptoms, until suddenly there were, in June 2024. Stage 4 metastatic liver cancer, probably accelerated by my alcohol abuse. Estimates have varied between a few weeks, to a few years. I have had 14-months so far. So, every day I wake up again, and stay relatively pain free, is a bonus now. One way or another, it will never get too painful. Trust me on that one.
I am not fishing for sympathy and do not want platitudes. I am well into my dotage now and have, for the most part, had a fucking awesome life. Traveled the world, on all seven continents. Met and befriended the best group of people an individual ever could, fellow veterans mainly. I am ready now when the time comes. My only regret is that I will have to be separated from Jayne, the former TFMD, again on this ‘final deployment’, until she is ready to join me too!
If you have read all, or even some, of my story, I thank you. The number of hits I have seen make it all worthwhile. If you saw fit to rate a part positively, I am extremely grateful and really glad you enjoyed it. For those leaving negatives, I am sorry to have wasted your time.
I am done now, but you…You live long. Live full, and love those that love you, emotionally and physically. Life should be a gift to share with others. Do not waste it!
Ciao
Titus
