Chapter 14

The three were sitting around the table in the kitchen after eating Caitie’s beautifully prepared lunch. Bill Noble had appeared increasingly pensive as the meal progressed and finally appeared to have come to a decision of some sort. Excusing himself, he left the kitchen, went to his room and then returned. He was carrying a wrapped package in his hand.

Very carefully he unwrapped it revealing a small stack of what appeared to be metal-framed rectangles. Looking at the others he said, “I’m about to show you something that no one else besides me has ever seen.”

He stacked the small rectangles face down on the table and then passed the top one to Caitie who was sitting next to Bill Corcoran. They looked at it and saw that it was a small photograph — about 2 by 3 — and showed a lovely young girl.

“That’s my wife, Ellen,” Bill Noble explained. “She was only seventeen.”

Corcoran was stunned. “I never knew you were married, Bill!” he exclaimed. “And I’m certain my parents never knew, either. What happened?”

“We were only together for two weeks,” Noble explained. “I had a furlough to get married. Then only a few weeks before the war in Europe ended, Ellen was killed when a V-2 rocket struck the hospital where she was working. But, I understand she saved the life of a small boy by covering his body with hers as the hospital collapsed around them.” Tears were flowing freely from his eyes as he continued, “These pictures were taken just a few days before her death. I had already been notified of her death when I received them.”

“Where were you, Bill?” Caitie asked gently.

“I ... I was in Germany with the Royal Welsh Fusiliers,” he replied. Then he swallowed hard.

Caitie and Bill looked at the picture more closely. The girl was utterly beautiful, wearing what Noble explained was her school uniform. “She was finishing high school, even though we were married.”

Then he passed them the next picture. In this one, she had undone the string tie around her collar, unbuttoned her blouse and revealed her lovely figure with only her bra showing.

“What a beautiful girl!” Caitie exclaimed. “But how were these pictures taken?”

“I’m sure it was way before your time,” Noble explained, “but there were these automated amusement park photo machines called Photomats. You put a few shillings into the slot, a light flashed, and after a couple of minutes a finished photograph came out like the ones you’re looking at.”

Then he passed the third. In this one, Ellen Noble was stripped to the waist and was using one hand to tease her right nipple into full erection. Her breasts were perfectly shaped and sized with lovely little nipples, although they had engorged to substantial length in the picture. In the next, she had reset the camera’s aim. Now she was completely nude with her thighs parted slightly. It was enough to reveal that her pubic hair had been shaved leaving only a small patch above her slit.

“When I saw you, Miss Caitie, I was instantly reminded of Ellen. Her...”

“Pussy?” Caitie offered.

“ ... pussy looks just like yours,” Noble said with a small smile. Then his smile widened as he added, “I didn’t know it at the time, but clearly I had married a contortionist as you’ll see in these next...” With that he passed over the next photo in the series.

In this one Ellen had her thighs spread wide and was using the fingers on her right hand to spread her labia revealing her turgid clit and even the opening of her vagina. Very carefully she had drawn an arrow pointing to her vagina with the caption, “My darling, insert here first.”

The next one demonstrated what Bill had meant about Ellen being a contortionist. Her back was to the camera and it was centered on her asshole revealed by her using her hands to spread her ass cheeks wide apart. Again there was a tiny arrow pointing right at her sepia ring with the caption, “ ... then here.”

The next-to-last photo showed her with her mouth opened wide and formed into an almost perfect circle. Its caption read, “And then here.”

“Ellen ... Ellen came to our marriage a virgin, as did I,” Noble explained. “She wasn’t quite 17 when we were married and I was only 18. But she proved to be extraordinarily passionate. Her first words to me when we were finally alone after the wedding were, ‘Bill, I want you to take me in every way it’s possible for a man to take a woman.’ And before our honeymoon was over, I did ... many times.”

The final photo in the series showed a naked Ellen with the most lascivious look on her face the two had ever seen. Her body was utterly perfect. Its caption read, “Now you’re on your own.”

“And you could never find another Ellen, could you?” Caitie asked softly.

“I never really looked,” Noble replied. “She was utterly perfect. And she’s so much like you, Miss Caitie. She sacrificed her life to save a child. That’s something you would do, too. In fact, it’s something you’ve done ... to save the lives of dozens of your students.”

At that point to Noble’s astonishment, Susie Sloan materialized in front of him. While she had been wearing a Levi’s at the rectory, this time she was in her more common attire: she was nude. “Mr. Noble,” she began.

“Hold on a moment, Susie,” Caitie interrupted. “I think I had better explain to Bill just who and what you are.” Very quickly she told Noble about Susie: heroine, martyr, saint, angel and now archangel.

Tears were flowing down Noble’s cheeks as he reached out and pulled Susie close. Their lips met and merged in a warm loving kiss. When they parted, Susie said, “You’re right, Mr. Noble, my kisses aren’t in the same league as Caitie’s.” Looking upward she added, “And it’s still not fair!”

“My dear Susie,” the Voice rumbled, “this is really getting to be old-hat. Do we really have to go over that again?”

Rolling her eyes she grumped, “Slang yet! And from the Boss.”

“That was... ?” Noble stammered.

“It sure was,” Susie assured him. “But that’s not why I’m here. I just thought you might like to know that Ellen is still waiting for you. She’s ... she’s one of my dearest friends. There’s something you may not know: Ellen is the same as you remember her: still 17, and still very horny! You, William Noble, will be 18,” she said sadly.

“Why so sad?” Noble asked. “It sounds pretty good to me.”