Avon Lady
Copyright© 2025 by Duncan Mickloud
Chapter 1: Army Life
True Story Sex Story: Chapter 1: Army Life - This is a story in the 70s & 80s. Two Army buddies get the boot from the service with tens of thousands of others when Jimmy Carter takes the Whitehouse. They end up sharing a place together. A cute little blonde arrives unannounced, the three become a love triangle. The hot blonde confuses and confounds both men. From there, the story escalates; both want her, but only one can have her. later I had a crush on our big boobed Avon Lady, an homage to those hard-working ladies.
Caution: This True Story Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Fa/Fa Consensual Romantic Military Cheating InLaws Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Safe Sex Sex Toys Voyeurism Nudism
Older now and hopefully wiser, I often think back to the late 1970s. That was a significant period for me. Today, I see things in the news, on YouTube, or on TV shows that amaze and concern me. 99% of that is media-driven. Over 90% is ceaseless chatter meant to inflame us.
Historically, until the 1950s and 1960s, the typical path was to complete high school or college and then find a partner. Every book we read, every movie we watched, and every TV show primed us for that. It’s what we did.
We all felt the drive to marry and raise a family together. A man for every woman, a woman for every man. Marriage allowed us permission to have sex, preferably with our wives.
Starting in the 1960s, women enjoyed the new freedoms that the birth control pill allowed. It was the start of the sexual revolution. Before Aids, people had sex an awful lot! It was indeed a freewheeling time. Sex was casual and happened every chance you got. Sometimes, even with someone you had just met. In the sixties, seventies, and eighties, women liked men. They wanted us a lot, and often!
This story is a blast from my past. It is 25% true, and the rest is my own. The names and places have been changed to protect the guilty.
Author’s Note. I never served in the Army, so don’t fry my bacon over this story. Please, take it as an homage from a fellow serviceman who was also stationed on Oahu.
I’m William Paul Mooney, or Bill. I joined the US Army in late 1974 and enlisted for four years. Thinking I might want to be a cop someday. I had opted for training as an MP (Military Policeman). They actually gave me what I wanted.
After my training was complete, they sent me to Honolulu, Hawaii, where I arrived by plane. Of all places, I got Hawaii for my first assignment? However, I soon discovered that there were no pretty girls in hula skirts waiting for me. I was immediately posted to a remote base.
Being young and of age to drink, I often visited the enlisted club with other MPs to decompress. We could afford to drink on base. Honolulu was 25 miles away from the post and too expensive for our meager paychecks anyway.
Being an MP meant we were personally held to a high standard. We were limited to social drinking to set an example for other men. You learned to sip drinks slowly. No drunkenness allowed, period.
So, most of us learned to control our drinking.
As for local people of the fairer sex, we were in the undesirables segment.
Young soldiers don’t make much money. Add our very short haircuts, which made us stick out. We were ignored or even became a focus for assholes of the male and female variety. We couldn’t get lucky in a whore house with a pocket full of the 50s. So, we stayed on post for the most part.
I also did not have wheels. I have had motorcycles all my life, except for my time in Hawaii. Motorcycles were targets in Hawaii.
I was assigned to Schofield Barracks for my time there. It’s on the western or dry side of the island of Oahu.
The only close town was Wahiawā, which had two churches for every place serving food or liquor.
Native Hawaiians are socially conservative. Being drunk in Wahiawā was strongly frowned upon by them, and in particular, the Army. It was okay if you just had to have a Big Mac, wanted to shop for clothes, or something.
Thus, low-ranking enlisted men spent most of their free time on base while stationed in Hawaii. Occasionally, a couple of us would swim at Nanakuli Park or Electric Beach. They were places you could swim or snorkel in the ocean.
In 1976, Jimmy Carter became president. He initiated efforts to downsize the military as soon as he took office. He must have had a hard-on for the Army because he really decimated our ranks. All the services had grown significantly during the Vietnam War.
During the early stages of downsizing, you could volunteer and receive an early-out. A couple of days later, you were flying home.
I had just been notified that I was being discharged for the needs of the service. I didn’t volunteer to leave, but it didn’t matter.
The services had a last-in, first-out thing going. Career guys got to stay, and we newer guys, like me, were promptly discharged and sent home. I was discharged in late 1977.
Home was a small farm town between St. Augustine and Palatka, Florida. More like a gas station and a 7-11. It was serious redneck territory with mullet haircuts and pickup trucks. Add a Budweiser between your legs as you drive the country roads, and you begin to get the picture. Hot, dry, flat and empty. Yes, in Florida, you could have a beer in your car back then - if you were not drunk.
I was not returning there!
I had one buddy at Schofield Barracks who was from Florida. Bob Howard was from Jacksonville, and he was headed back there before me. He said his folks had moved further south, so it would only be him there when he arrived. I was at loose ends since I was not returning to my own hometown in Podunk, Florida. We decided to team up for a while.
Bob picked me up at the airport just north of Jax on I-95. He had bought a used two-door Toyota. It’s an ugly thing, with a color that was neither blue nor green, in an odd shade. I have no idea what the color was supposed to be; it was ugly and impossible to describe.
We arrived at Jax Beach. He had found a tiny old motel that rented efficiency apartments by the day, week, month, or year. It was grubby but cheap.
On the way towards the beach, we saw a VW dealer. Over a late lunch, I asked him if we could swing by the VW place so I could take a look.
I picked out a well-used 1965 green VW Beetle. It had 42,000 miles and had been there a while. I got it relatively cheap because it needed a paint job. I paid using money orders and drove the bug back to the apartment.
In Hawaii, they had strange banking laws. Most of us kept our money in the credit union. I had withdrawn my money from the credit union and put it into a bunch of $100 money orders, in its own little wallet.
I had spent most of my years in Hawaii, mostly on post. I ate at the free army food and lived in the barracks. I had banked most of my pay.
I stopped at a Navy credit union on the way back to the beach. I showed them my recent discharge, and they allowed me to join. I deposited the rest of my money orders in their credit union. That took a while. I had been in Hawaii for over 3 years and had spent very little. My pay averaged $400 a month over my entire army service. At least $325 went to savings each and every month.
Every morning, I got up and read the newspaper. I was looking for a job I could do. I saw an advertisement for a security company.
Hmm, MP and Security were similar. I called them up and talked for a bit. They recommended I bring my DD-214 to prove I had been an MP.
I was hired on the spot. I was issued two uniforms, a heavy-duty leather belt with a giant flashlight attached. I was not an armed guard. I also had to attend security school in the evenings for two weeks to qualify to be a guard in Florida.
They assigned me temporarily to work with another security guard, driving a golf cart around a country club. It was located South of Jacksonville Beach. The place was way more than a country club. It was a city unto itself, with controlled access and all the amenities only a rich guy could imagine.
The security training company was respected, and people sought them out for security guards. I didn’t even have to look for a job. Being ex-army, I was a sought-after commodity.
Half a month later, I had punched my ticket as a Security Guard. The company then transferred to an enormous shopping mall. Only senior guards got the cushy country club job. I was only there so another guard could go on vacation.
I got the night shift at the mall. Three days a week from 7pm til 7am.
During those hours, the mall slowed to a stop. It got slow as 9 pm approached. At 9 Everyone departed, with customers leaving first. Shop workers followed soon after. We locked the public outside doors at 9.
Employees would leave soon after that, using special one-way doors.
Our biggest problem was teenagers. They tended to run in packs. We never hesitated to run unaccompanied teens off. They spend little money yet cause most of our trouble.
Occasionally, we had to trespass them from the property. That meant calling the cops and having them formally run them off permanently.
Bob and I had rented a regular apartment on the east side of the river in Jacksonville. We split the costs down the middle. We went out weekly for a steak and a few bourbons. Everybody smoked back then, so we did too. It was just what you did in those days. Eventually, I decided that going out was getting too expensive. Plus, the barmaids never took us up on our feeble attempts at flirting anyhow.
That’s only half the story. Bob liked to drink bourbon. Bob drank several bottles a week. Now, I like an occasional glass of sipping whiskey. Slugging them back all night is bad for your pocketbook and your health. After several weeks, I convinced Bob to leave the bar scene solely because of the cost.
We were both kinda low-key and were not suave and all that shit. We were not virgins, but we had poor experience levels when it came to women. Getting lucky in Hawaii with our short army haircuts was nearly impossible.
I still ran daily for my health and did some calisthenics in my bedroom. Near the apartment, people looked at you like you were weird if you were jogging or running. I liked how I looked. I realized I looked good when we went to the beach to girl watch. The girls watched me right back now that my hair had grown out.
After our six months in the apartment, I decided that paying rent was a waste of my money. I wanted to buy a house. There was an ongoing issue, and we had noisy neighbors. The little kids next door kept me from sleeping well during the day.
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