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“Pink sky in the morning; a sailors warning.”
I recalled the old saying and looked skyward. Directly overhead was cloudless and blue but as I scanned eastward, the building menace of the billowing clouds loomed. The day had dawned with a vivid pink display, the low and towering Cumulonimbus clouds out over the sea strongly reflected the morning sun. It was beautiful but at the same time eerie. The air was still and the birds were quiet.
“Not a day for outdoor activities,” I thought. Not that I had any planned. In fact, the first item on my to- do list was to get the Music Tour DVD and other related documents all assembled and in one place, ready for my return visit with the statuesque Clare in two days’ time.
“I wonder if it will be a Thursday to remember,” I mused to myself. Thoughts of my first (and only) visit, so far, to meet Clare (the head of the Music department at Michelle’s son’s high school) were still vivid and fresh. As I mentally replayed that ‘eventful’ day my member reacted as well. I could still smell the muskiness of her natural beauty…
“No time for reminiscing, I have work to do,” I chastised myself.
Next I had to edit the real estate images I had shot from the previous day for my local clients, upload them to their websites, and bill them accordingly. Apart from that, the schedule was comfortable. However, before any or all of that could even be looked at, I still had to get the rest of the family up, breakfasted and out of the house. I could only hope to complete the round trip to the city and back before the heavens opened because if they did whilst enRoute, Sydney traffic would typically grind to a standstill and my day would be fucked, to put it mildly.
An hour and half later, I was back and pulled up in my driveway and breathed a sigh of relief. The morning peak was flowing, albeit below the speed limit, and despite the darkening sky, the rain had not arrived…yet.
“Good morning Ray.” I knew instinctively it was Michelle’s voice but I could not see her as I got out of my car.
“Hi Michelle…but where are you?” I called across my front yard, amused and confused.
“Wait… I’m here. Trying to get this…off me…” I homed in on the direction of her sweet voice which was interspersed with grunts and groans, sounds which indicated she was doing battle with something or other. I went to the small brick fence that separated our properties and found her frantically brushing at her hair and arms.
“What happened?” I asked, stifling a laugh.
“I was coming around the back of the car to say hello and ran into a spider’s web.” She continued to flap and brush at her hair and clothes. “I hate spiders!”
“Oh, what tangled lives we lead!” I quipped. “Do you need a hand?”
“No thank you Mister Funny Person. I think I have it all off now.” She glowered and then smiled.
“Apart from the spider web, how are you?” I scanned her hair and clothes to see if there was any trace of the spider. I assured her there was no sign of the naughty critter; it looked like it was all web. I noted with relish the way her snug fitting jeans flowed over her lower body and way her ample bust filled her flamingo pink V necked jumper and the white T-shirt styled top she wore underneath.
“Good,” she responded and then grimaced slightly. “Man, I hate that; they give me the hebbie jebbies.” Michelle looked at me for a moment and then added, “Oh, I like your hair cut, an improvement on the little Dutch girl look.”
The little Dutch girl reference was one that I used often myself as my hair was prone to random curling on the sides so Michelle’s reiteration did not phase me at all. In fact I was flattered she had remembered.
“Yep. All nicely groomed in readiness for my visit to Clare,” I replied knowing it would provoke a response.
“Oh, I see. Trying to impress so you can get into her pants again are we?”
“I would rather her be without…”
“Like I said the other day, you had better rest up. She just might be a whole lot more ‘woman’ than you can handle.” Her wickedly sly grin told me was giving me a wind up.
“It’s a challenge I am willing to take on,” I said smiling broadly. I placed my thumbs at my shoulders, imitating the wearing of braces, “Besides, Ma’am, it’s all for the greater good.”
Michelle could not hold back and burst out laughing.
“Sorry. I don’t know which was worse. The stupid attempt at an American cowboy accent or what you said, but I had to laugh.” She continued to laugh her hearty high pitched laugh, which delighted me enormously.
“Quite all right Ma’am. I’m used to it.” She burst out laughing again at that.
We chatted and laughed our way through the next fifteen minutes. I filled her in on the details I had organised with Clare regarding the music tour arrangements we were due to discuss and Michelle related some of the additional anniversary trip details her husband had told her about over the weekend. To tell you the truth, I did not Kuşadası Escort take in what she saying, I was too preoccupied with looking at her wonderful figure.
“You’re wicked, do you know that?” She scolded me in a mock, annoyed motherly tone.
“When I’m good I am bad and when I am really bad I’m excellent,” I smirked.
“Why don’t you come up and see me sometime then?” My heart skipped a beat as she looked at me seductively.
“I would if I could but I can’t,” I said, pouting.
“Tell me about it.” She replied, pouting as well. “I hate to say it, but I have to dash.”
I looked at my watch and saw it was already 9.45am.
“Me too! So much to do and so little time.” I gave an over exaggerated sweep of my brow as I said this which made Michelle laugh heartily again. I glanced at her body as her breasts swayed under her
“Wow, they are something,” I said to myself.
We kissed fondly, once on each cheek, both of us resisting the temptation to break into a fully- fledged, passion filled embrace; some of the neighbours were about and we did not want to start tongues wagging. We took our leave of each other, happy that we had that small window of opportunity to chat.
In no time, fortunately, I had the DVD and related documents all sorted and ready to go and the real estate photography dealt with. It had been a productive morning. I looked out the window and noted the clouds were rapidly closing in. It had become dark and ominous overhead, but like the Sting song lyric, there was ‘Heavy cloud but no rain.’ I looked out of my upstairs office window across the street and saw Daphne’s car (or Daph as she was known) was parked up under her car port.
“Maybe I should take this opportunity to go see her about her pool set up,” I thought to myself.
The timers for our pool pump and cleaner had both recently failed and finding replacements of the same brand was proving difficult, at least online. I was desperately trying to avoid dealing with a pool repair person as the cash flow was a bit tight and I was sure, if I could find the right pieces of equipment, I could fix the problem for under half the amount. I knew Daph had a pool and had considered numerous times to go over and see her about her timer set up and the brand information but every time I had the chance she was out. However, today I was in luck. Just before I left I looked out my home office window again at the weather and noted that the southerly breeze had now turned into a howling wind, dropping the temperature dramatically. The combined impact of wind strength and the wind chill factor made it a freezing, brute of a day.
I decided to put on a warmer Kashmir round-necked jumper over the long sleeve white T-shirt I was wearing, and a dark brown leather bomber styled jacket as well to keep the cold at bay. I had picked up an umbrella to take but decided at the last moment to leave it behind lest I end up like a modern day Mary Poppins, or whatever the male equivalent might be. I would just have to run back later if it was raining and hope I did not get too drowned in the process. I stepped out onto the veranda and nearly got blown away.
“Fuck, its cold!” I gasped under my breath. Quickly I closed the door and locked everything. The sky felt like it was descending to engulf the entire suburb it was that gloomy. I rushed across the road and up Daph’s neat and tidy drive and jumped up the steps to her front door. Her house was a single storey, double red brick dwelling that reflected typical late sixty’s Sydney architecture, with a large front veranda that typified a bungalow design. I rang the doorbell which emitted a ding-dong sound
reminiscent of the old Avon lady advertisements.
“Hello Ray,” she said as she opened the solid white painted front door and greeted me enthusiastically through the fly-screen door. “Or should I say stranger. It goes to show how busy everybody is nowadays; I don’t see my neighbours as much anymore.”
Despite the obvious sadness behind her comment she smiled broadly but as she opened the fly- screen door Daph looked at me. A curious look passed across her face.
“Are you okay?” I asked, stepping briskly inside to get out of the cold. “You look like you have seen a ghost.”
“Yes…fine…um, thank you,” she stammered, shaking her head slightly.
“Are you sure?” I asked again, not being convinced by her initial response.
“It’s just… well, this might sound odd, but it’s the way you are dressed…” She trailed off for a second and seemed about to leave off from making further comment and then regathered her train of thought, “You look fine, sorry. No offence meant. It’s just that, with the white jumper and the brown leather jacket you look so much like a friend of my mothers. In his youth, I mean. Not that you’re old.”
She blushed at her clumsy wording. I looked at her wondering what she was driving at but smiled regardless. It was rather charming.
“Sorry, Kuşadası Escort Bayan no offence meant.” She apologised again and quickly continued. “He was in the Royal Australian Air Force during the 2nd World War; I think he served in Europe but she met him in Australia before he went over to Europe.”
“Oh really, thank you. I’ll take that as a huge compliment.” I smiled, “They always looked so gallant and suave in photographs.”
“You could look the part most certainly.” She agreed warmly. “He was initially based somewhere near Sydney from memory but she met him in Wagga of all places.”
It was my turn to be startled.
“Wagga did you say? She wasn’t a parachute packer by any chance?”
“Wagga? Yes, Wagga Wagga… the RAAF base down there. Why did you ask if she was a parachute
packer?” She sounded shocked.
“My aunt was based down there as a parachute packer for a time. She joined the WAAF and was initially based near Jervis Bay, then went to Orange then Wagga.”
As I spoke Daph directed me into her lounge room at the front of her home which overlooked the front veranda. She had the heater on full but at a distance the room still had a slight chill in the air. I sat on the lounge and rubbed my hands along my thighs to try to get some extra warmth into them.
“It certainly has turned cold quickly.” She commented seeing me rubbing my hands. “It was lovely out when I went for my morning walk at six thirty. It’s funny you should come over as I was only saying to my new next door neighbour how I don’t see the other neighbours much anymore.”
“Everyone is too busy just getting the everyday stuff done,” I added.
“That’s for sure. I can go for weeks and not see Jody next door, on the southern side. As for you, I haven’t seen you for months. How are you?” Daph sat in the arm chair opposite.
“I’m all good. You look well and in good shape as per usual.” She smiled warmly which was followed by a slight coyness in response to my compliment. To call Daph a GILF would be inaccurate. She was probably in her early seventies and a grandmother, but still had the figure many forty to fifty year olds (or even younger) would envy. Her face, while still reflecting her younger beauty, was a little wrinkled about the eyes and corners of her mouth, however, she did look after herself and any sun effects were minimal. She was shortish in stature, according to her own description, standing about 5′ 2″ tall, but she still had her womanly curves in the right places, and kept herself active by walking at least once a day. The walking combined with all the community work she did and associations she belonged to certainly kept her figure in check and her metal faculties in top working order. I sometimes wondered how she fitted it all in. Her hair was typical of her age group in terms of length and colour; light curl and salt and pepper colouring. On the rare times I had talked with her recently, I had noted that since the sudden death of her husband three years earlier, there always seemed to be a hint of residual sadness behind her large brown eyes and I guessed there may well have been some growing feelings of loneliness as well.
For my part, I have always been a breast man from way back and I had always admired hers. Though not huge nor too large, with her slender frame, her chest filled out sufficiently to offer more than a hand full to someone who might be fortunate enough to be able to get that close. I had always hoped for such an opportunity but as far as I was concerned, wishful thinking was as far as I would ever get. I figured she would not be interested because she seemed typical of her generation when it came to morals, ethics and social standards, plus I lived right across the road. As the old saying went; ‘Don’t
shit on your own door step.’
“What brings you here?” Daph asked. I looked at her face and then scanned her upper body and noticed the slight bulges in her grey Sloppy Joe where the material stretched across her ample bust.
“Nice looking nipples,” I thought.
I explained about my timer dilemma and she told me she only operated her pool system manually nowadays, since her husband had passed. She found it easier to put it on when leaving for her walk and turn it off a little later in the morning. The way she put it, it sounded if I was not going to get the information I was after but I decided it was worth a look regardless. She showed me where the switch was and the electrics that went with it and as it turned out it was not what I was hoping to see. Her son had installed the switch set up so she could operate it manually and as such there was no twenty-four hour timer (or similar) to be seen.
We went back into the lounge room as I discussed the timer situation I was trying to rectify, all the while I could not help but notice the way the nubs of her nipples continually showed through her top. As we passed her mantel piece, I noticed some of black and white photographs Escort Kuşadası and asked her about them. Two of them showed a small group of people in each, and the third was a portrait of a woman in uniform who I guessed was her mother.
“At least you did not have to go outside,” she said, referring to the timer switch, as she handed me the photos, “It looks like it’s going to rain any minute. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Yes, please,” I answered gleefully and then turned my attention to the photos. I gasped aloud and Daph came back into the room looking concerned.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes, Daph, nothing’s wrong,” I smiled at her. “It’s just this first photo… See that person on the end, on the right…?”
Daph looked at the photo closely.
“That is my mother,” she said as she pointed to the person standing central in the group of nine women in overalls. “But I don’t known who that is, sorry.”
“That is my aunt… Renee was her name. She passed away about five years ago. She was 93.”
“Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed and placed her hand lightly upon my forearm. “Isn’t it a small world?”
I agreed and asked her a few more questions about her mother but the name did not ring any bells when I recalled what little I knew of the war years from my aunt.
“Daph, while you make the tea, would you mind if I ducked over home and got a suitcase with some of my aunt’s papers and the like in it? I know there are some letters and other bibs and bobs that might be of interest to you, especially with the Wagga connection.”
“Are you sure you want to go out and come back in this?” She indicated the gathering gloom. I told her I would be back in a flash.
Within a few minutes I was back inside Dash’s warm lounge room. I put Renee’s photo next to her mothers portrait and you could tell from the pose and the lighting they were more than likely taken by the same photographer. Daph was astonished when she saw them side by side. I rummaged through the suit case I had brought with me and found a number of documents that showed Renee’s enlistment details and stationing movements. Daph looked them over and was even more astonished at how we had relatives in the same WAAF unit and did not know it.
I looked closely at the second photo she had given me and could not believe my eyes.
“Daph? See this man in the middle…do you know who he is?”
“Yes, my mum talked about him a lot. His name was Robert; Bob as he called himself. Why do you ask?”
“Bob and Renee…well, they never married but ever since I can remember she always carried a torch for him, if you know what I mean?”
“You’re joking?” She looked at me flabbergasted. “My mum spoke fondly of him and always said he had a secret admirer but no one ever knew who. I wonder why they kept it quiet?”
“I don’t know. I never got around to asking either of them about their relationship, well, never had to intestinal fortitude, to be more precise. It was something that was just there and we all accepted the fact that they were wartime buddies and just left it at that. It wasn’t a subject I felt I could ask about I suppose.”
I continued to dig into the suit case of Renee’s papers and pulled out a large paper envelop which a
cluster of medals. There were two sets, each in their own smaller envelop. The first envelop bore Renee’s name, written in her hand, and inside there was six medals on the long pin to make wearing them easier together with a note detailing what each medal was for. The second envelop bore Bob’s name, also penned by my aunt, and inside there was seven medals but details for eight on the accompanying piece of paper. I read the paper a number of times and matched the medals to each description; the missing medal was a Distinguished Flying Medal (DFC).
I showed them to Daph.
“Mum mentioned that he went over to England…1943, if I recall, to take up a Non-Commissioned Officer (NCO) position with a bomber squadron. I think he went over as a radio operator.”
“I had no idea.” I said reflecting on what she had told me and the vague image of the man I knew of as Bob, who until now, had simply been my aunt’s male companion.
“I’ll mention this to my mother and my niece if you like. My niece, in particular, has a lot of this sort of information. She would be very interested in all of this.”
“Oh…the tea!” Daph exclaimed. “White and two sugars?”
“Yes…please…thank you.” I placed the medals back in the envelops and followed her out into the kitchen, still in disbelief.
“You have been amazing.” I blurted when I reached the edge of the kitchen bench.
“Me? Amazing? I haven’t done anything really.” She laughed. I looked at her body closely and her nipples protruded noticeably. I assumed it to be from the cold; it would have been extremely presumptuous to think I would be the cause.
Presumptuous or not I had an impulse to approach this woman in a more intimate manner but anxiety was again stopping me. My heart started to pound in my chest which was being reflected in my temples. Daph was busy making the teas and placing biscuits on a plate while I stood there visually groping her breasts. They moved freely under her Sloppy Joe indicating she was not wearing a bra.
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