Prologue

She was a virgin when we married. Of course, this was a time just before the sexual revolution that decreed that virginity was something to be fixed as quickly as possible. Today, young girls are actually ashamed of their hymens and are teased by their peers of they are thought to be virgins.

In 1959 I was a twenty-two year-old second class petty officer in the US Navy stationed at the Glenn L. Martin Aircraft plant in Middle River, Maryland, on the outskirts of Baltimore. I was temporarily assigned, along with about fifteen other Navy aviation types, to test fly, and accept into the Navy inventory, eight reconfigured C-121 aircraft. The aircraft were originally Lockheed hurricane hunters. The birds were known in civilian airline service as the Super Constellation passenger airliners. It was the workhorse of the trans-oceanic flight routes in the fifties and sixties. The jet and turbo fan airliners were just making an appearance to force the piston avgas prop planes out of service.

It was Christmas, 1959, and there was a major glitch on the reconfiguration work on the planes, so the decision-makers decided to allow, for those who wanted, to take Christmas leave from late December ‘59 to a week following New Years. I came to this assignment directly from 18 months on Guam so I decided to go home and live like a civilian for at least a few weeks. I knew my parents would be happy to have me home and I could rekindle some old high school friendships.

There was no special woman in my life. Hell, I had nobody, special or not. On Guam, I was air crew on the same aircraft we were reconfiguring, the Super Connie or the Navy designation, WV-2. After the reconfiguration, the planes new designation was WV-2Q or as they were nicknamed, the Willie-Victor two Q.

As aircrew I actually spent little time on Guam which was a boon for my sex life. The Guamanian girls were old school Catholics who were under threat of ex-communication if they even spoke to an American sailor, let alone screwed one. A few lucky island-bound single guys were able to provide sexual comfort to the willing Navy wives while their husbands were on deployment to Japan, Taiwan, and the sailor’s wet dream, Olongapo, P. I. (Philippine Islands). [Google it.] A lot of sixty and seventy year-olds vets have a web site that waxes nostalgic over the former sex drenched little town just outside the gate of the massive NAS Cubi Point air base. The married guys fucked the LBFMs (Little Brown Fucking Machines) in the P.I. while the sailors on Guam fucked their wives. It was kinda of an even balance in scheme of cheaters.

Back to Christmas in my home town in Southern Illinois. I was having a ball drinking beer, legally this time, and getting together with the friends that stayed on after high school instead of joining the Navy or going to college. There weren’t many, but luckily for me, one of my best buds, Duane, was home from grad school, so I had somebody to run the roads and chase pussy.

Duane’s parents lived in very large house on East highway 161 and Duane had the great idea of throwing a big New Year’s Eve party for the class of 55 and 56 still around. His parent’s house was perfect party place. No near neighbors to complain about the noise and enough rooms to sneak off for a little bumpity-bump or at least some stink-finger. We called everybody in town that we knew and asked them to pass the word about the party.

One glitch almost shut the party down. Duane’s parents, for unknown reasons, rescinded permission to have the party at their house. (They weren’t stupid.) Fortunately, my parents gave their permission to party at their house. They weren’t stupid either, just more understanding and knowing that not much in their house was valuable if something got broken. The fact my boyhood home was about one third the size of the original venue was a negative, but not an insurmountable one

Chapter 1 »