Chapter 17: Back home. March 1991

The battalion arrived back in Aldershot around the middle of March and were given a week's leave. Pippa was overjoyed to see me home safe and sound, and during my first two days back home we hardly stirred out of her bed. That sounds as if we had a frenzy of a sex- fest, but nothing could have been further from the truth. I couldn't get it up. I couldn't do the business. I was impotent- I was mortified!

She was sympathetic and loving, and gave me blow jobs and hand jobs, but it wasn't the same. I spent most of the time in the bed being comforted by Pippa, with her arms around me, saying "It doesn't matter Dewey, just having you here and holding you is enough for me."

But it wasn't enough for me!

She explained that the stress, and the amount of injections we had been given prior to the deployment, with all the unknown reactions possible, had affected my metabolism (as a matter of fact I read later that a lot of returnees suffered the same symptoms so I didn't feel so bad ... then). At the time I was suicidal to think I had become impotent - every man's worst nightmare had come true. Damn it! I wasn't even 27 years old yet.

There was also an air about Pippa that I couldn't quite make out. I knew she was now a Ph.D., and this would have changed her status at the charity, but it was something other than that.

After 3 or 4 days at home with Pippa, with me still not able to do the business, I went up to Plaistow for the rest of the leave to see Miriam and my mother. This time when I knocked the door my mother opened it.

"You've made it back OK then," said my not very demonstrative mother. She was then almost bowled over by Miriam, who had come rushing down the stairs. She jumped into my arms and wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck.

"I was so worried, I thought you might not come back, I missed you so much!" She was very demonstrative!

Her tongue filled my mouth and she sucked my tongue into hers. Lo and behold, I felt a stirring in my loins, something that hadn't happened for the 4 days I'd spent with Pippa. OK, so it wasn't the Full Monty of an erection but at least it showed there was some life, and where there's life there's hope. I kissed Miriam warmly and for a while we were lost in each other's mouths.

"I'll chuck a bucket of water over the pair of you" my mother scolded "go indoors if you want rumpty pumpty, whatever will the neighbours think, seeing you fornicating on the front step?"

That night I managed to not only to get a full erection but also managed to shoot my load into Miriam. Not the mighty torrent you might expect after the months of enforced celibacy- more a trickle, but at least I did the business. Miriam gave the impression of enjoyment and satisfaction, whether true or faked it didn't matter, as at last I had broken my duck and my self-confidence had been restored. I remained in Plaistow for another night, and once again I did my duty ... just.

How ironic is it that my mistress of nearly three years, probably the most sexually imaginative and stimulating woman I 'd ever had between the sheets, couldn't get me to rise to the occasion, whereas my wife with whom I had spent only fleeting time and seldom indulged in the untrammelled shagging that I had regularly with Pippa, could?