Chapter 1: Aldershot Sept 1987; Mandy, Cindy, and a funny story concerning Sandra.

There is a shortage of cunt in Aldershot! Well at least of good quality cunt. The place has been a garrison town for hundreds of years and there are only two sorts of females in it. The first are the stuck up sort who wouldn't touch a squaddie with a barge pole and the others, who are not stuck up but poxed up, who you wouldn't want to touch with your barge pole.

I'm being grossly unfair! I had been in a foul mood since the latest bust up with Miriam, and lack of nooky (sex!) was giving me a jaundiced view of womankind in general and those of Aldershot, Home of The British Army, in particular ... I apologise to all the fair maidens of that town. There was plenty of pussy in Aldershot, it just wasn't the sort I craved. I wanted relationships; Once again the words of Gino Frascetti came in to my mind.

'Your problem mate is that you want a relationship - all I want is a fuck'.

So I decided to try Gino's way -the Four F's.

One Friday night I made my way into town, to the pubs and clubs where "soldiers' women" congregated.These were young, available and willing cunts, ready to be wined dined and shagged by horny squaddies with money in their pockets, and rampant dicks in their shreddies (underpants). No ties, no commitments, no relationships.

The first person I saw when entering the glitziest most expensive club, with more pouting pussy than you could shake a stick at, was Wurzel Colcott. He was stood up at the bar, his hand resting on the arse of a "soldiers' woman", a tall dark haired girl who judging from the rear view would be a real stunner. As I pulled a bar stool up alongside him he turned and said,

"Des! Meet Debbie, she drinks Harvey Wall Bangers."

I took the hint and ordered one for her and two pints of bitter for us.

Debbie was a good looking girl except for all the ironmongery stuck in her face. As she smiled and thanked me I saw she had some more metal in her tongue. She must have been all of 18; Wurzel was at least five or six years older than me, which would make him about 10 years older than Debbie

It was practically impossible to make conversation; the insistent disco music loud enough to shatter plate steel and the strobe lights on the dance floor disorienting the senses. We watched the dancers, who were mostly young slappers with skirts up to their bouncing shaking arses, tits jiggling, over -spilling and nearly falling out of their low cut tops. It was making me feel randy and getting me into ' jump on a frog mode'. The 'music' stopped and the girls drifted off the floor. One of the girls, a blonde with thrusting tits and an arse to die for, who I had already noticed on the dance floor, came over to us.

"Hi Debs" she said to the dark haired girl, "introduce me to your friends."

Debs did the honours "This one is Al" indicating Wurzel (must remember not to call him Wurzel), "and this one is..."

"Des" I said (Debs obviously had a very short attention span),"what's your name and do you drink Harvey Wall Bangers?"

She laughed, thank God no mouth metal, but she did have a ring through an eye brow.

"I'm Mandy, and yes I do" She was about the same age as Debs.

I ordered two more Bangers (a Banger for a banger I thought!). The two girls left for the ladies before the drinks arrived so we knew they would return.

I turned to Wurzel "How did you pick her up ... and why?"

He drank his pint and said, "I first saw her arse. I must have had a magnet in my pocket because I was that strongly attracted to her."

I spilled my pint laughing, Wurzel ordered two more.

"They will be getting their fixes now," he said "into the bogs, out with the White Lady and up the nose. Look at their eyes when they get back, ever fucked a bird who's high? They go like bunnies."

He was right. We kept pouring Harvey Wall Bangers down the two girls for the rest of the night; they both had had their fix judging by their eyes.

About 2am they said it was time for them to go. When we got them outside the fresh air nearly knocked them out. In the deserted darkened car park Wurzel propped Debs against the wall, opened his fly and she obediently fell to her knees and started to blow him, her mouth slurping and sucking. Wurzel gave a sudden cry of pain, it was probably that stud in her tongue. Mandy didn't seem quite as far out of it as Debs so I unzipped, put on a johnny and lifted her up on to my prick, which was pretty rampant after a night of watching bouncing tits and arses. She pulled the leg of her miniscule panties to one side and I entered one of the tightest cunts I'd ever had.

Mandy may have been stoned out of her mind but she could still grip with her cunt muscles. As I thudded into her she made a few moans and groans but it was generally quiet except for heavy breathing, grunting and Debs' slurping. I was coming to a head, in normal shagging mode I would stop and see how my partner was doing, allowing her to catch up or whatever. But this was fucking not lovemaking so I just kept going until I blew my load into the johnny.

Did Mandy come? Who gives a fuck! She did clench her slim legs around me and thrust her tongue down my throat as I shot into the condom so perhaps she had. Wurzel came with a shout and sprayed Debbie's studded face- I wonder if spunk rusts steel? We gave the girls £5 each for a taxi and left them cleaning up.

Next morning I was filled with disgust at how I had behaved; no better than an animal. I had just pleasured myself in an outright selfish act and had used a young girl as a wanking substitute.

Had I enjoyed it? In some twisted and perverted way yes I had!

Would I do it again? Never! ... Never say Never.

The next Friday I picked Mandy up again and this time I buggered her unmercifully; same venue but a tighter and different orifice. I bet she couldn't sit down for a day or two after the pounding I gave that sweet arse. I hadn't used any lube other than my spit and her saliva, after she had given me a bit of a gobble;it was obvious she hadn't remembered me from the week before. Wurzel reckons the girls go out every other night so probably would have had three other blokes inside her since my first shagging of her, besides which the White Lady addles their brains; they can't keep anything in it for more than a few hours.

Wurzel had picked up a different bird on Friday with not so much metal, he only wanted a blow job but this time with no steel on his knob end.

"Wearing a johnny when fucking is like wearing socks when washing your feet; wearing no condom is chancing your arm with all sorts of pox, so blow jobs are more satisfying and safer."

This is what Wurzel believed and I suppose he was right.

Gino and I must have been lucky in Belfast as we never used johnnies; Francine and Rita never asked us to and we have always passed the monthly FFI inspection. (Free From Infection, or Fit For Insertion as we called it!)

The four F's might be OK for Gino but it wasn't satisfying for me or Wurzel, who also wanted to have a regular fuck partner, so we decided to try our luck at a ' Grab -a –Granny' club.

They attracted the rather more, for want of a better word, mature soldiers' women; probably where Debs and Mandy will end up if they don't die of an overdose or pox first. There was also the chance of a 'yummy mummy' type (MILF/cougar) looking for a rough, brutal and licentious soldier. Few and far between I grant you, but not entirely a pipe dream.

There was the added attraction that the music at these venues was more 60/70's style, so you didn't run the risk of premature deafness, or brain damage with the strobe lights.

Wurzel asked around and came up with two likely venues, ' The Ambassador Club' and 'Sierra's' as the two most likely venues. We decided to go alphabetically and so the next Friday night we rolled into the Ambassador Club.

First impressions were OK; 70's sounds, no flashing lights and some quite agreeably tasty totty (attractive females) on view. However it was about 8pm when we arrived and it seemed that we were too late to cop on( pick up) with the aforementioned first division sorts and had to try our luck with 2nd division, 3rd division, or even the non-league pussy that was available.

Talk about mutton dressed as lamb. Wurzel put it better.

"I've seen better looking bitches in Battersea Dog's Home!"

Ah well, beggars can't be choosers so it was up to us to find the best of breed for the night! Wurzel spotted a couple of likely sorts and we moved in on them.

"Evening ladies, mind if we join you?"

He sat down and beamed at the two rather buxom 'girls' who were probably pushing 40, or had even pushed over that age. He was the best chatter-upper in the battalion, even better than Gino. Didn't have Gino's good looks but had this open friendly way that soon had people, men, women, kids and dogs, all warming to him.

"I'm Al, this is Des;" he said "he's buying so what are you drinking?"

The quickest way through a tart's knickers is by gin and tonic, and so it proved with this pair.

I went up to the bar for the drinks and as I waited to be served this yummy mummy sort came up behind me. I had noticed her as soon as we had entered the place. Most of the females in the Ambassador were wearing tarty clothes, usually five years too young and a dress size too small for them; she on the other hand was dressed in a cream skirt and blazer type jacket that was elegant (and probably very expensive.) She was tall and slim, with short light blond hair. She had been sitting with another woman, also elegant rather than tarty, and two balding civvy businessmen types. We had made eye contact earlier and now she smiled at me as I turned around. I made a quick executive decision.

"Would you like to go in front of me in the queue" I asked, with my best smile. "I expect you only want some cigarettes?"

Her smile broadened and she replied "How on earth... ? That's very kind of you. One rarely meets a gentleman in this club, I usually go to Sierra's" She had the well-modulated tone of a middle class, well-educated sort, a real turn on for me.

She ordered her cigarettes (Benson and Hedges naturally), and while waiting for them said,

"Maybe I'll see you in Sierra's tomorrow? Saturday evenings are quite good there. My name is Emma by the way."

"I'm Des, and I'll make it my business to attend" I replied, and we shook hands. Hers was slim cool and firm.

She walked away with a sway of hips that was poetry in motion. My God, I thought, I've copped on for tomorrow!

I was in two minds whether to stay at the Ambassador or not. I watched Emma dancing with one of the civvies and I remembered that a bird in the bed tonight is worth two in a club tomorrow. She might not show up, or have some other bloke sniffing round her or be a high class prick teaser.

Wurzel was up close and personal with one of the tarts when I returned to our table with the drinks, so I supposed that I had the other one. He made the introductions as I put the tray of drinks down on the table.

"This is Sandra (the one his arm was around) and that is Cindy," indicating my 'date'.

Sandra had a magnificent pair of tits; her bra was pushing mounds of flesh well above the low cut line of her top; you could have landed a helicopter on the upper slope of that bosom, and I could imagine Wurzel with his head between them, loved pillow sized tits did Wurzel. The wide leather belt around her waist accentuated its smallness, compared to the huge breasts above. I noticed later, when she got up to dance, that her arse barely moved, encased in such a tight skirt.

Cindy on the other hand bulged. Her tits were not as big but appeared more formless than Sandra's, her tight top showed a bulge of fat around her waist and her arse wobbled like a 'ginormous jelly (Jello) when she walked, despite the skirt she wore being equally as tight as Sandra's. She had a double chin verging on a triple and her neck was thick and a bit raddled; her roots also needed doing. Thanks a bunch Wurzel!

As the evening wore on I got over my bad humour and began to enjoy myself. We knew we were going to end up shagging this pair and shag is shag, and if you don't like what you see you can always shut your eyes! To be fair the two girls were good company; we had many a laugh and even dancing wasn't the ordeal it might have been. In fact hanging on to Cindy's oscillating arse on the dance-floor was turning me on, a fact she soon realised when we came groin to groin. Her rubbing herself against me caused me some embarrassment when walking back to our table.

We left at closing time and took a cab to Sandra' house, dropping her and Wurzel off before carrying on to Cindy's. They lived quite close to each other on a large anonymous council estate on the edge of the town.

Once inside Cindy's house her tongue was down my throat and her hand at my zipper in double quick time. She kissed quite well and I thought this wasn't going to be so bad after all. Her hand was soft and as she moved it up and down my shaft I soon came to full attention, like a good soldier. Cindy gave a dirty, throaty, laugh (that was a turn on as well).

"Get up them stairs!" She breathed into my mouth "and give your Aunty Cindy a good fucking."

Once in her bedroom we were soon down to our underwear, the clothes flying off our bodies like leaves coming off a tree in a gale. Her tits hung down nearly to her waist and her belly spilled over the top of her knickers but I didn't care. She smelt of sex and my prick was like a hound dog.