Chapter 2

My homecoming was a bittersweet evening of nostalgia and uncomfortable silences.

In a way I felt like a stranger in my own home. Everyone looked the same to me and I realized it was probably me that looked different. I wandered down to the bathroom and shut the door just to look in the mirror without being disturbed. I had to admit the guy staring back at me bore no resemblance to the innocent boy that had marched off to war with things like principles and ideals still resting comfortably in his backpack like a deck of playing cards that never changed their spots.

Now they were hopelessly scattered and replaced by reality and survival and a need to think only about the now and never about the future or the past.

I could see the figure of a huddled up female picking her way through the snow drifts and recognized the swinging stride of my younger sister Claire even though I still couldn't see her face. I had to smile thinking of her innocent attraction to the paper dolls that lined the window ledge. I absent-mindedly picked up one that looked a little bit like Lana Turner with her signature heart-shaped bottom and hair-style. The pretty dress was royal blue and lifted right off like it had been switched for other outfits many times. Under the shape hiding dress, the paper doll was wearing a corset type girdle that seemed part of the base figure. Without the modest dress making her into a normal everyday housewife, the doll now was a stunning sexy female filled with promise under her protective girdle. It was glued to her like a suit of armor insuring her chastity under the direst of circumstances.

I touched the girdle with the tip of my middle finger peering intently at the dolls' face as if to see if she had any reaction. It was so crazy that began to wonder about my own sanity and quickly put the doll down when I heard the front door slam shut and Claire's keys clank into the empty brass saucer on the hall table where all the keys were deposited when entering the house.

"Is he here?"

I heard her voice sounding a lot older than I remembered and I knew I would probably not recognize my fourteen year old sister who was now a young lady of eighteen and most likely was no longer as innocent as she had been when I left.

Claire was truly a vision in plaid pleated swirling skirts and purple tights that accentuated her youthful legs. Of course, she still had the curse of the Donovan females with minimal breasts that made her look less mature than her actual age. She swept into the room and jumped right onto my lap just like she used to do when she was only fourteen. Now that she was a grown woman, my sister was all filled out and no longer the skinny little thing that would bounce around the house like a ball of fire. I could tell it wouldn't be wise to do much lap sitting now that she was fully grown. It was easy to determine the mother lode of her pleasantly plump backside was without benefit of girdle or any other restrictive covering to hide her goodies from the jerks on the subway that took advantage of the working girls and schoolgirls either too young or too modern to wear the old-fashioned ass shapers with perfect symmetry.

I was exhausted from the long day of mustering out and went to bed early in the small bedroom that was so small it only had room for my bed and a small desk and chair under the window looking out on the side street lined with trash bins ready for the early morning pick-up. I stripped down to my skivvies and slid into the bed on top of the white sheet because the room was right next to the furnace pipe that ran all the way from the floor to the ceiling. I would have opened the window except for the fact it was freezing outside and I had no desire to go from one extreme to the other in the middle of the night. I noticed that there was another stack of my sister's paper dolls sitting on that window ledge as well and it looked like she had been playing with them recently. I thought that quite strange for an eighteen year old girl and wondered if she was seeing a boy now that she had volunteered for duty at the USO club. I bet she was a hit there with her swirling plaid skirt and no girdle to obstruct traffic. I fell asleep with thoughts of my pretty little sister and the variety of paper dolls that ranged all the way from the busty Lana Turner to the more studious looking Rita Hayworth with big black glasses and hair that refused to behave. I dreamed about my neighbor lady with all the kids and an attitude of giving that gave me that loving feeling every time I saw her face. The dream got real fuzzy when I mixed up the nurse at the Army base with her tightly cinched girdle and the paper dolls my sister had all over the house with girdles under their assortments of outfits.

I was so tired that I fell into a disjointed sleep and started to have a nice dream about the Lana Turner paper doll crawling between my legs and rubbing her hands all over my erection. I was certain it was Lana because her hair was all over my groin and her mouth closed around me with a wetness that made me suspect that perhaps I was having a wet dream or needed to get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

I ran my hands though Lana's hair and pressed her face in closer because I was on the verge of exploding with the force of a volcano of sperm. My cream was drained and I worried about getting the sheets wet and having to make silly explanations to my mother about the incident. Somehow, the Lana doll swallowed it all down and I was relieved because I would not be mortified in the early morning light. I patted the Lana doll on the top of her generous head and fell into a deep sleep smiling all the way to the rising of the sun in the morning light.