The Last Flight Chapter 7 - Sex Stories

The Last Flight Chapter 7

... ruined them and I had worked so hard to get them presentable again. Looking at them now even with scratches and cuts from the crash, it was hard to believe. My home life had been rough too. My dad was conscripted into the army, and I was glad to see him go. When he was home he would drink too much and my mum would suffer terribly at his hands. He would get home and beat her when she wouldn't give him what he wanted. He never forced her so at least she was spared that but, on the day that she got the telegram telling us that he had been killed on Juno beach during the invasion of France, the sense of relief was so great that we just held each other tightly in the hallway. I swore at that moment that no man would ever put me through that hell. Sadly, my mum didn't live long enough to enjoy her new freedom. Just a few months later she was out shopping when a V2 rocket landed on the shop she was in. She would have known nothing about it. So that left me, alone. Our house was rented so I moved out and left behind all those bitter memories, took a room near the factory and made a new, independent life for myself. I lost my virginity in that factory and that just confirmed my theory that all men were the same, good for just one thing. He was much older than me, more than twice my age in fact. I was twenty-one and he was in his early fifties. He had been gassed in the first world war and, as a result had problems breathing. He should not have worked in a factory with such an ...

... unhealthy atmosphere but there he was and he made the best of it. I looked up to him then. He was married and seemed to take me under his wing. He was so different from my dad, always so nice to me and helped me whenever he could. I wished at the time that my dad could be more like him instead of the selfish, drunken bully that he was. Fred, as I knew him, was always so polite and kind. I never once heard him swear or shout and nothing was too much trouble for him, in complete contrast to my dad who couldn't open his mouth without some vile expletive being released. Fred always talked about his wife with affection and even brought little cakes from her, when they had enough rations to make them, not just for me but for all of us girls whom he supervised.. On this particular night in Nineteen Forty-One, almost ten years ago, I had been at work about two hours when the air raid siren sounded. I was in the wash-room and had to quickly finish and get to the shelter but I didn't get he chance before the first bombs began to fall. I had experienced air raids before but I had never been out of the shelter during one and certainly never alone. I was always frightened whenever the attacks came but this time I was petrified. I was unprotected and hand no friendly hand to hold or arm to squeeze. As the bombs fell, the building shook and dust and plaster rained down on me. I could feel the scream rising. It began in the pit of my stomach and began to rise. I covered my ears as each explosion ...