Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 COAST WATCH

   by Holly Rennick

   AUTHOR'S NOTES

   Erotic fiction set in the World War II home front intrigues me.  There
was more sex happening at the time of Viet Nam, I'm sure, but maybe its
abundance makes a less-compelling story setting.  Free love gets pretty
anatomical, but what else?  Hoochie coochie was more complicated for the
Greatest Generation, more worth writing about.

   I've posted a photo of two U.S.  Coast Guard Women's Reserve officers
ordering a Coastguardsman to prepare for duty, a fun duty by the looks of
things.  The women were known as SPARs, acronym for the Coast Guard motto,
"Semper Paratus--Always Ready."
http://images.asstr.org/files/Authors/Holly_Rennick/Coast_Guard.jpg

   Semper Paratus.  A Coastguardsman's my type of man!  Here's a picture of
me saluting him. 
http://images.asstr.org/files/Authors/Holly_Rennick/Salute.jpg

   COAST WATCH

   I wasn't sure if I should wear gloves or not.  It was September and this
is Oregon.  Maybe they'll be like the ladies in Charleston, I wondered, but
unpacking and buying furniture left me no time to find out in advance. 
Anyway, I took my gloves; I'd slip them off if I saw they weren't in season
yet.

   I'd not be here in Astoria if my husband hadn't received papers to
Tongue Point.  I'd taken the train 3000 miles to set up our apartment and
he got diverted to Puerto Rico!  Nazi subs dropping Spanish spies, I guess
they're worried about.  I'll wait here until the Coast Guard stations him
where they told us he was supposed to go.  Coast Guard!

   It was so nice, therefore, for Eunice to invite me--really my only break
from the boxes.  Out here on the West Coast, women are friendly.

   Eunice's husband's supposed to be at the station, too, she said, but got
sent to Iceland to train Navy lifesavers.  Coast Guard!

   "Bridge game at my place, Tuesday at 7:00.  Girl's night out," she
reminded me when we parted.

   It might be my week's activity, I realized.

   The fact was that none of the girls did wear gloves and two were even in
trousers.  Nice pants, to be sure, but they were pants.  This wasn't
Charleston, even if they wore stockings underneath.  In Charleston, ladies
don't play bridge on weekday evenings.  Just afternoons.

   Eunice took care of introductions.  "We're glad you play bridge.  This
must be so different from the East, so much rain and everything," she
apologized.

   I didn't correct her that Carolinians are from the South, not the East.
Before I moved, I read that South Carolina gets more rain; it's just more
spread out in Oregon.  Coastguardsmen's wives know about weather.

   "Do you knit?  Well, we'll teach you.  It's really fun to make things."
The girl named Jane would have issued me needles if I'd not demurred. 
"I'll start the bidding with a big pass.  Who has the face cards?"

   "Your husband--Dwight, right?  He's in the service?" the one named Debby
wondered.  "Mine's in Alaska.  No place to start a family, I told him.  One
spade, I think.  Jane's is in the Pacific, classified supposedly, but it's
just Hawaii."

   Maybe that's why they invited me; we're waiting for our men.  The good
thing about a Coast Guard husband is that he usually stays close to home.
The bad thing is that that was before the war.

   "That's such a pretty blouse," noted Eunice.  "Maybe they have it
Portland.  Whose bid is it?  Oh, sorry.  I pass."

   I took the bid to two hearts and Debby closed it at two spades.  I
didn't mind being the dummy, first deal.  Fewer chances to muff things.  We
made four.

   By the end of the hand, I was almost one of the girls.  Everybody
thought it was great that we made even more than our bid.

   As expected, conversation got onto men and the war.  My Dwight wasn't an
officer or anything (somewhat of a social demerit in Charleston, I'd
discovered), but here it was much more about what he really does.  Keeping
the motors going is really important, they all agreed.

   Did I work in a factory making airplanes back east?  They'd read that
girls do it.  No, I confessed, I was a typist at County Records.  Well,
records are important, too, they deemed.

   Eunice worked as a secretary at Tongue Point.  Not saving people, of
course, but in the office.  The Lieutenant Commander's office, she noted
with aplomb.

   "That's where I met my hubby," she explained, counting her cards to see
where she'd dealt wrong.

   "Plus Bruce," quipped Jane, knitting as she waited for the dealer to
find her mistake.  "She made Bruce an Able Bodied Seamen by being his First
Mate," which brought a laugh.  I think it was a joke, anyway.

   "Hey!" Eunice chided.  "Secrets are secrets."

   "Not in the Auxiliary," and everybody roared.

   I laughed with the bunch.  It's good to be included.

   But oh my!  I'd not tell a joke like that.

   "The thing is," confided Eunice as she re-dealt, "it's really important
to keep up the morale for the men guarding the shore."

   "Did she say 'morale' or 'moral'," interrupted Debby.  Chortles.

   "No, really," Eunice continued.  "Those boys get lonely, too."

   "Some girlie in a bathing suit's giving your hubby a private hula dance
and you're going to sit home with the Saturday Evening Post?" asked Jane.
"You need a date now and then yourself, right?  It's just till the war's
over."

   Just till the war's over?  I thought about it.  They go on dates?

   Eunice noticed my brow.  "Just Coast Guard boys.  Everybody got thirteen
cards this time?"

   ***

   At the five-and-dime where I'd gone to buy clothespins, a blond
Coastguardsman--just recruited, I could tell by his haircut--in front of me
stepped back and his arm brushed my chest.  I, too, stepped back, at first
flustered, but less so when I saw his embarrassment.

   "Sorry, ma'am," his eyes averting mine.

   It was just an accident, but hanging up my laundry later made me think
about the boys who bumped my breasts when I was in junior high.  It
happened to my friends, too, and we said the boys were creeps.  But
actually, I sort of liked it.

   ***

   Next time, cards were at Jane's.  I loved her spoon collection--one from
nearly every state.  "I trade for them," she admitted.  "I've never been
further than Nebraska."

   I said I'd write my friends in South Carolina to see if they had extras.

   "Eunice and I are doing coast watch tomorrow," the hostess volunteered
while serving the coffee.  Back in Charleston, we never drank coffee while
we played.  Out here, everybody just lays down their hands while we add the
cream and sugar.

   "Coast watch?" I asked.

   "You know, look for subs."

   "Oh my!  I didn't know."

   "We never see them, but the Japs got a freighter one time!"

   "Oh, my!"

   "Or sometimes what they do is sit offshore so spies can blink them
signals."

   "Are there Japanese who live up here?"

   "Not like California.  We got some draft dodgers, though."

   If I were a spy, I'd want to be in the Coast Guard so I could steal the
lighthouse signals, but I didn't say it.

   "It's not too dangerous to watch for subs," Jane assured, "but sometimes
it's pretty rainy.  One diamond."

   I was doubtful.  "They let us do it, women, I mean.  After all," I
reasoned, "what would we do if we captured one?"

   She laughed.  "Tell him to go home.  We're just the Auxiliary.  Free a
man to fight, the way they say it," she added.  "'Course, the ones who
guard the beach are pretty important, too."

   "Yes, I'm sure.  One heart."

   "Our little way of helping.  Just for an hour or so," she clarified,
which wasn't clear at all.  "Want to go in my place?  I could use the
shut-eye."

   "I'm not in the Auxiliary."

   "Sure you are.  You play bridge.  Eunice will pick you up at 20:00. 
That means eight o-clock."

   I knew that.

   "Wear a raincoat, 'cause it'll pour if you don't."

   I got torpedoed at one heart because I missed my finesse.

   ***

   That week I saw the Coastguardsman who'd bumped me at the five-and-dime.
He and a girl went into the Seashell, the movie house.  The picture was a
cowboy one.  I wondered if he bumped her breast at the ticket window.  If
they sat in the back.  If they watched the movie.

   I'd done everything with Dwight because we were married.  I liked doing
it a lot.  But I still remembered the boys in senior high who touched my
top.  I'd let them feel me up, but not too much, so they'd not start
stories.  It was pretty fun, those days.

   ***

   We were an Auxiliary of two: Eunice driving a Coast Guard automobile and
me the new recruit.  I'd not the slightest idea of how to spot an enemy
sub. We drove to a bluff overlooking the Pacific.  "Thar she blows,"
explained my partner, pointing to a boxy-looking structure on stilts.

   It wasn't that easy climbing up the ladder and through the opening, but
I'd pants on, per Eunice's advice.  At least it wasn't raining.

   The lookout cabin wasn't much bigger than a delivery van.  A window
pointed seaward.  Two chairs.  Trunks against the back.  A telephone, the
boxy military type, on the wall.  The view toward China was nothing but
fog.

   "We take turns?" figuring I'd hardly sleep when it wasn't mine, anyway.
I knew about watches from Dwight.

   "Naah.  We can't see them and they can't see us, so it's safe.  We'll
just wait for the guys."

   "Which guys?"

   "The ones assigned to be here, Bruce and Charlie.  You'll like Charlie.
He's an Easterner, too.  The ensign says it's legit 'cause it gives us
eight eyes instead of four.  That's if we're looking out the window!  Have
a seat."

   I heard a vehicle stop, drive away and there were sounds on the ladder.

   "Hi there, doll." A Coastguardsman's head popped through the trapdoor.
Maybe it was the jaunty cap illuminated from his Ray-O-Vac that made him
look about eighteen.  "Bruce's behind me," as the two scrambled in.  "We
got smokes."

   It wasn't clear to me why it took four of us up here if we weren't going
to see anything.

   "I'm from Kansas City," Charlie introduced himself and took the vacant
chair.  "Bruce's from Arizona.  That's why we joined, to see the sea." and
all of us laughed.

   The one named Bruce busied himself with the telephone, saying some
numbers when he got it to function.

   "Every hour," explained Eunice.  "If we don't report on the hour, they
figure we've been attacked.  Regs, you know."

   "Or that we're asleep," added Bruce.  "It looks bad for the unit if we
get an inspection, so they wake us up."

   From the glow from the cigarettes, I could see Eunice pulling blankets
out of a trunk.  "Anybody cold?"

   Bruce beamed and sat on the trunk next to Eunice.  He was older, maybe
thirty.  Maybe men from Arizona just look older because of the sun.

   "Douse the light so the subs can't see us," ruled Eunice when Bruce put
his arm around her.

   "Want a drag?" suggested Charlie, scooting his chair next to mine and
offering a cigarette.  "Help make you warm.  You look swell."

   This wasn't what I'd come for, to drivel around with some smart punk.  I
moved my chair.

   "Come on, babe!  It's cold up here," scooting closer.

   "I'm married!" I hoped firm enough to make him realize I wasn't just
playing hard to get.

   Eunice had stopped whatever she was doing.  "Yeah, Charlie.  Don't act
so officer."

   "I mean...," I interjected, as maybe I'd misinterpreted something.  "I
mean we got to watch for subs."

   Charlie didn't have a quip, but at least he'd quit chasing my chair.

   The four of us spent the next hour talking about the war, what bands
were recording, how Astoria's pretty much the end of the world.  Charlie
tried every line he could think of to get me interested in him and we all
laughed at the silliness of it--even him, after a while.  Of course he got
nowhere, but it was fun to joke around.  Like they'd said at bridge, these
guys get lonely, just like us.

   Eunice and Bruce got a good bit less lonely than we did.  It wasn't so
dark that I couldn't see she'd moved to his lap.  They didn't even care
that we could hear them smooch.  I suppose the Coastguardsmen know how far
each other got on a date, just like girls do.  Maybe they lie more, though.

   Their blanket hid how far their hands ventured.  You can hear kisses,
but you can't really hear buttons.  From the giggles, though, you suspect.

   At the end I let Charlie give me a little kiss on the cheek.  He's just
a kid.  Eunice and I were leaving in a few minutes, anyway.

   "Maybe next time?" Charlie grinned.

   I told him, "Maybe after we sink the spies with your flare," a nix
without sounding too uppity, I hoped.  Everybody laughed.

   The tower swayed in the wind, but we were dry.  This wasn't such a bad
way to spend a little time while the war goes on.

   "Charlie's not that bad," apologized Eunice when we later got in our
car. "Just a bit much at first."

   "Well, he is sort of forward," I agreed.

   "Bruce is quieter," reaching in her sweater to reposition her underwear.
Maybe I'd not just imagined what I thought I imagined up there.  And she's
married!

   "Should Charlie and I have gone out to the car, or something?" I asked.
It didn't seem right to have been up there when the other two were fooling
around.

   "Against regs.  They have to stay up there.  It's okay.  No secrets in
the Auxiliary, remember?"

   "If you say so."

   "Why don't you come by station and size them up before next time,"
Eunice decided.  "That'd be better."

   Well, you can't go blaming girls who get left behind, even if you
wouldn't yourself.

   ***

   I thought of how Eunice seemed to know how things worked.  She'd made no
effort to keep me from knowing how far Bruce got.  A guy getting in your
sweater is maybe no big thing out here.

   Maybe I shouldn't have backed away from the Coastguardsman at the
five-and-dime and made some comment about the movies.  Maybe we'd have had
a Coke and caught a matinee.  A cowboy one.  Sit in the back.  I wouldn't
let him in my sweater because I'm married, not too much anyway.  It's not
like we'd be making love or anything.

   But I didn't want a typist job at the station, despite Eunice's urging,
because of Charlie.  He'd have complained to all his Coast Guard buddies
about the prude in the Auxiliary.  They'd look at me strange.

   ***

   But I did get a job at the recruiting office downtown.  Astoria wasn't
big enough for each service to have its own secretary, so we'd give out
information, point the recruit in what we thought was the right direction
and process the initial paperwork.  I usually talked the boys out of the
Marines.  The kid wanted to bayonet the Nips, but I told him he'd be
peeling potatoes.  Coast Guard's much better.  Look at the men at Tongue
Point.  They'll be the ones to machinegun any Jap spy.

   William was a case in point: he was at the office the day after he
graduated from Astoria High.  He wasn't that big, but he seemed plenty
smart.  Smart enough to enlist to guard the coast, anyway.  I showed him
where to check "Signalman" as a training preference, though everybody knew
that the Coast Guard never reads the form.

   He'd stop by almost every day to check for his orders.  It was with
pleasure I gave him his ticket to New Jersey.  I even saw him off at the
bus station, me and half the town.  He'd do the Coast Guard proud.

   Was I surprised three months later when the phone rang!

   "It's me, William.  Guess what?  They posted me right back here, out at
the station, I mean!  I'm a mess-man.  It means I cook on the cutter when
we go out.  Pretty good job.  They lost the paper that said I'd do the
radio, but that's okay."

   "Super!  I'm pleased for you." I really was.  As long as the cutter
didn't meet a sub, anyway.

   "Just thought you'd like to know."

   "Semper Paratus--Always Ready." It's how you tell a new Coastguardsman
that you think they're doing an important job.

   *** I stopped by the five-and-dime a few times to see what they had new.
I just might to run into that blond Coastguardsman.  I'd act like I didn't
remember, though, and get to know him a little before we went to the show.
I'd not really go with him, of course, but if I did, maybe I'd wear my
rose-pattern blouse.  It's the style that's not tucked in.  At the
Seashell, you have to be careful.

   But he never came shopping and I ran out of new things to inspect.

   ***

   It was probably a month later.  I'd been keeping plenty busy at the
office, so it might have been more.

   "Guess what?" announced Eunice after taking the bid three no-trump.  "I
saw the roster for the coast watch this Friday.  Nice boys on it."

   I wasn't her partner and I held most of the high clubs, so they were
probably set.  "Se le guerre," as they say in French.

   "My turn!  Where's my raincoat?" volunteered Jane.

   "Make sure he's got his," from Debby, the joke apparent even to me.

   "And guess what else," Eunice continued, looking my way.  "That one you
recruited, William, I think, is listed."

   I was surprised.  "I thought he worked in the kitchen."

   "It's after he peels the potatoes."

   "He peels one of us," filled in Debby, giggling at her wit.

   I didn't like that.  "Who says?"

   "Well, nobody," admitted Eunice.  "He's new on patrol, according to the
roster."

   Well, I didn't even like them talking about him.  "He's just a kid."

   "Dibs!" jumped in Debby.  More laughter.

   Eunice looked at me more closely.  "No, wait.  Who recruited him gets to
go.  It's only fair."

   I wasn't talking about going.  "No," I backed off.  "I didn't mean me."
The diversion made me lose count of the face cards, but it didn't matter.

   "No, no.  Go ahead," Eunice urged.  "Debby can read her Look Magazine
and think about the big one she scored last week.  She doesn't even know
your William."

   Debby wrinkled her nose good-naturedly and gave a dramatic sigh.

   My William?  Oh my!

   ***

   Jane and I waited in the tower until we heard the vehicle pull up. 
After a minute it drove off.  I could only hope that Eunice had read the
roster correctly.

   It was several minutes before the trap door lifted.  Even bundled in a
stocking-cap with his pea-coat pulled up to his cheeks, I could tell the
second one in was William.

   He looked startled when he recognized who was in the lookout.  "Oh!  I
didn't think it would be you!"

   "Yeah, it's me.  How are you?"

   "Fine I guess." He looked at his feet.  "I just didn't think that..."

   "I just wanted to say hi, is all."

   "I got assigned to stand watch."

   Jane interrupted, opening a trunk.  "How 'bout we put up the curtain? 
You two can have the chairs."

   The other Coastguardsman, a tall fellow whose name I'd missed, strung a
blanket from hooks on the ceiling, separating them from us.  In a moment, a
hand shoved a blanket under the divider.  "Don't get cold." Jane's voice.

   With the blanket between us, the waves below and the wind all around,
the other couple couldn't hear you if you didn't talk too loud.

   "I've never been up here before," I whispered to William, "except once
and nothing happened."

   "You're her?" His question horrified me, as it meant that the tale was
known.

   "I guess."

   "Anyway, he didn't say who.  Just that one kiss from her was better than
a--well, you know--from anybody else."

   Maybe little Charlie's got a bit of decency, I realized.  I was glad I'd
given him the kiss, and not just for the compliment.  He'd settled for the
kiss, maybe, but he'd wanted to poke me, too.

   "Let's just watch for Japs," William decided.

   The night was clear for a change.  If they were going to slip a spy on
shore, we'd catch him.

   "You're married, right?" after we got tired of watching.  The way he
asked it wasn't like he was assessing me.  He just wanted to know.

   "Yep.  Coast Guard, just like you.  He's in Puerto Rico for a while."

   "Lucky.  It's sunny there."

   "I guess.  You got a gal?"

   "Did, but she ditched me right after I joined."

   "Tough luck."

   "It's okay.  I'm going to college when this is over."

   "Really?"

   "Engineering, maybe.  You got me thinking about radios when I signed
up."

   I was glad I'd done that.

   "You're shivering," he realized.  "Here, wear this," unfolding the
blanket.

   "No, I'm fine."

   "How 'bout you just put it over you?"

   What could I do?  "Thanks," wrapping it around my back.  But that wasn't
fair.  "Here, we'll share," sticking the edge back over his shoulder.

   "Any Japs out there."

   Nope."

   I watched the sea, wondering how many fish were out there.

   From the other side of the lookout came muffled laughter and occasional
words.

   "Stop that, buddy!" Jane's every inflection to the contrary.

   "You like this better?"

   "Maybe."

   But there wasn't much maybe about it.  At one point she said, "Up more,"
but I don't know about what.  I could hear as they arranged themselves and
then their pushing.  At the end she said, "Oh" three times.

   I suppose William heard as well, but we didn't look at each other.  I
hoped he understood that Jane wouldn't have done it, except for the war.

   It was better just to guard the coast, we both knew.

   William told me that sometimes you could see whales during the day.

   I told him about all the sailboats that dock at Charleston.

   He told me that the navy was getting blimps to watch the coast pretty
soon, but they'd always need the Coast Guard.

   I liked the thought of floating in a blimp.  I wondered if Jane's orgasm
was as long as it sounded.

   I woke up when the telephone buzzed.  Otherwise it was quiet but for the
waves and wind.  In a moment the tall Coastguardsman opened the curtain,
gave me a goofy grin and said something official-sounding into the
mouthpiece.

   William's arm was around my back and my head was on his shoulder.  I
wasn't cold any more.  William was still watching the sea, the edge of his
hand barely touching the side of my breast.

   I'd given a kiss to Charlie, hadn't I?  Why not William, then?  It
wasn't really that much of a deal.

   "How'd it go?" was Jane's question when we got to the auto.  I sensed
her hope, but she saved me from having to explain when I didn't have a good
answer.  "A girl's her own boss, right?"

   Her evening wasn't that simple, or maybe it was simpler.  I'm not sure.

   "I didn't trust his rubber; it's good I brought my own," she summarized.

   I agreed that it was good.

   That was really all there was to our reporting.  I didn't tell her that
when I kissed William, I let his hand reach further and only pushed it
aside when it tried to open my buttons.  But then I'd let it come back to
try again.

   I didn't mind.  It's just for the war.  Dwight's down there in Puerto
Rico, probably with one of those senoritas with the wide, low-cut
necklines.

   ***

   At the next bridge game, Jane must have said not to press me for
details.

   "A girl says no and that's it," Debby volunteered.

   "Or maybe you only remember what he was supposed to wear when you start
throwing up in the morning," someone added.

   "I almost got seasick," I joined into the swing, "but just from the way
that tower swayed around." It was good to make it into something funny.

   "I didn't want to crash it down with us up there." Jane's is a real
card.

   We talked about how to make do with less cooking oil.  If everybody
pitches in for the war effort, we'll bring it to a quicker end.  We never
got around to playing bridge.

   "Want to go again, though, don't you," Eunice asked me as we departed.

   "I don't know."

   "With William, I mean."

   "Maybe."

   ***

   I thought about my first coast watch, the one with Charlie.  A few weeks
after me he'd been up there with Jane and screwed her silly.  She wouldn't
lie.  "I was still coming and the telephone went off and Bruce had to open
the curtain to answer the damn thing!"

   "At least Charlie started your engine," complained Eunice.  "By the time
Bruce finished the phone call, he'd turned into a herring."

   Everybody said, "Ohhh, poor Eunice," till she laughed, "Okay, okay, I
got it back to being a tuna quick enough," and smacked her lips.

   I imagined how it might have been to make love with Charlie.  The kiddo
had a lot of spunk.

   But I'm glad I hadn't let him.  Charlie wasn't my husband, and anyway,
hardly knew him.  Such concerns didn't bother Jane, though, and she sure
felt better afterwards.

   I thought about my second coast watch, the one with William.  I'd
awakened with his hand near my breast.  Had he already touched me?  He
wasn't that sort of boy, was he?  But if he had, would my nipple have been
hard enough to be felt through my clothing?

   When I kissed William, he'd advanced his hand--tentatively, to be
sure--toward his target.  Other than knowing he shouldn't have tried it, I
liked that he was interested.

   If I'd gone back to sleep and not been awake to stop him, would he have
undone my blouse all the way?  If I'd not really returned to sleep, but he
thought I was, would I have kept my eyes closed?  What if he took off my
brassiere?  It was getting too complicated.  I didn't know.

   I touched my shirt to see how I might have felt to William.  I could
feel my nipple, but then again, maybe it was my nipple feeling his hand.

   ***

   I saw William at the shoe store where he grinned and had me help him
choose new loafers.  We didn't mention where we'd last seen each other
last.

   At the doorway nobody was watching and I let him kiss my cheek.  I sort
of wished we'd been where his arm could have been around me.  I do know,
though, that he touched my back where my hooks would be.

   It wasn't that I'd planned anything; it just came out.  "Seen the new
one at the Seashell?"

   "What is it?"

   I wasn't sure.  "They say it's pretty good."

   "I'm off till 6:00."

   It wasn't that long to 6:00, I realized, but it wasn't as if I had a
backup plan.

   When we arrived, the picture had already started, but so what?  Looking
around, though, caution guided me.

   "You know, William?  Maybe it's not such a good idea for us to go in
together."

   "Maybe not," he agreed.

   "I'll go in first and you find me," my solution.

   The Seashell was mostly empty, but there weren't any areas where we'd
really be alone.  The back row was the fullest.  I chose a seat part way
back.

   Gary Cooper was playing an ex-sheriff who'd stumbled into a nest of
train robbers.

   William found me shortly and after assessing the proximity of neighbors,
put his arm around my shoulder.  It felt nice.  Nobody could see unless the
couple in front of us turned around, and they were actually watching the
movie.  Probably married.  That's what Dwight and I would have been doing,
anyway.

   After a bit, William managed to drape his arm far enough to touch the
side of my breast.  I wasn't sure if I should let him, but raising my hand
to stop him didn't do much but provide him a cover under which he could
massage the front.  Not a bad idea to hide it a little, I realized, here in
the picture show.

   The way he dragged the wool against my brassiere was fun.  It was kind
of old underwear, I realized, but he couldn't tell.

   My sweater posed a problem, as there wasn't an easy way for him to reach
in without pulling it up, and I wasn't about to let him do that, given
there was a guy not that far behind us.  I supposed the girl back there had
chosen something that unbuttoned.

   I wasn't expecting William to put his other hand on my knee, but at
least this one was where nobody could see.  I certainly didn't encourage
him.  If he'd have tried to tug up my skirt, I'd have said no because I'm
already married.  Better to just cover his hand with mine, I decided, to
keep it from where it shouldn't go.  Not that I'd have really minded, but
we're in the Seashell.

   I wasn't expecting him to steer my hand to his lap.  I'd have pulled
away, except I was too surprised.  Anyway, I was married, so I knew what
I'd find.  I liked how he reversed our roles and now kept his hand over
mine.

   Gary Cooper wasn't getting any help from the train crew in stopping the
impending train heist.  The engineer was just smoking his pipe.

   If someone I know sees us, I decided, I just tell them that I like Gary
Cooper.  How that would explain my palm on his fly, I wasn't sure, but I'd
think of something.

   Denim's thick, of course, plus his undershorts, but you still get a
pretty good idea of what's under it.  I suppose that William's penis was
about like Dwight's, but I'd have had to reach inside to be sure.  Maybe I
could have done that in the last row, but not with the girl behind us
watching.

   Anyway, I could tell that William liked me moving my hand.  I rather
liked it, too.  If he'd returned to my knee, maybe I'd have let him work my
skirt up a little.  Not as far up as my panties, though, not here in the
Seashell.

   I really didn't have to do much, as he was already hard -- just rub up
and down along the ridge under his pocket.

   When he lifted against me and sucked in a breath, I knew what was
happening.  I'd never done this to Dwight, but being married teaches you
how things work.  Making a fellow climax is pretty easy.

   Anyway, what happened to William was more his fault than mine, as he'd
made me do it.  It wasn't as if I'd planned it when I came in, anyway.

   He didn't say anything about it afterwards and I didn't ask.  It's not
what you talk to a boy abut, I realized.  You know what happened and that's
enough.

   When we exited, me a little shaky, him maybe more, William said, "See
you around."

   "Okey-dokey," I told him.

   I thought I could see a spot on his trousers, but the light wasn't very
good.  If it's what I thought it was, I liked the idea that I'd made it.

   The girl who'd sat behind us winked at me in the lobby.  I'll bet she
saw the spot.

   Next day I went to the ladies counter at Penney's and lied to the girl
that my husband would be getting discharged pretty soon.  Any nice
brassieres on sale?  These ones are never on sale, she said, but here's one
that he'll like.

   ***

   When Eunice at last reported that William was standing coast watch, I
went.  Everybody thought that was how it should be, but a girl's her own
boss.

   I think so, too.

   I was glad the girls couldn't see my nipples, but maybe they knew
anyway.

   ***

   William's being in the lookout when I entered made it seem easier.  He
hung my raincoat by the door.

   Debby was with me and obviously knew the other Coastguardsman.  "Hi,
there," she greeted him.

   "Hi, yourself," as they hung the curtain.

   William and I took our chairs and chatted about our jobs.  He was
learning about radio on his own and they'd let him take a test.  If he
passed, they'd let him apply for real training.  He knew some of the boys
I'd processed at the office and thought that one had lied about his age,
but I shouldn't do anything.

   Nothing to report in the way of the Japanese fleet, of course; maybe
that's because they knew we'd spot them.

   Debby was giving her friend the "Not tonight," but he wasn't fooled.

   The chairs were hard and it didn't really matter where we sat anyway, I
told myself.  Sitting on a trunk, we could still see the horizon.

   The blanket only made sense, given the temperature.  He'd had his arm
around me before, so that wasn't different.

   It wasn't really different when his hand wrapped around my ribs.  We
shared a little kiss to remind each other.

   We could hear the two on the other side of the curtain shedding
garments.

   If I'd not turned toward his reach, maybe William wouldn't have lifted
my sweater.  Fingers creeping up my stomach reminded me of a submarine
approaching the shore.

   By the sounds of their rustling, the other two must have moved to the
floor.

   If I'd not leaned back, maybe William wouldn't have discovered my new
brasserie.  His fingers slipping inside reminded me of a submarine
discharging its spies.

   Debby's "Oh God, that's nice!" encouraged her friend, by the sound of
the result.  I didn't say anything.

   We kissed while William undid my hooks.  Though I knew that the other
two couldn't see, I kept my sweater on, though it meant having to pull my
arms out of the sleeves and then slip them back in.  The telephone might
ring and I didn't even know the other's guy's name.

   When William touched my hip, I scooted onto his lap, facing him.  The
air was cold against my chest, but I didn't care.

   "No, like this," Debby's voice came through and we could hear them get
in what must have been a better position.

   My hand wouldn't have fallen on William's lap if we each hadn't given it
a little room for it to do so.  I'd known he'd be hard from the Seashell,
of course, but it still startled me to again feel how much.

   I recognized Debby's "Ahh" above creak of floorboards and the thump of
body against body.

   It took forever to get William's trousers down, but maybe he thought the
same about getting my skirt up.  I'd chosen my black panties, but he
couldn't really see.  Maybe we just weren't very good with each other's
clothes.  It didn't matter.

   Oh, my!

   I'd touched the flesh of only one penis before, Dwight's.  William was
special because this was my second.  Sitting where I was, I could rub it
against the part of me that liked it.

   He grinned when I trailed my breasts back and forth against his.

   Maybe William thought we should get down floor like the others, but a
girl's her own boss.  He wasn't acting that expert about what we were
doing, so him sitting on the trunk made a lot of sense.  Plus I'd be better
situated if the other guy looked in.

   This is the kind of thing you shouldn't be doing if he's not your
spouse, I told myself, but it's not like you're actually sleeping together.
Anyway, William's not married and Dwight's going to be in Puerto Rico for a
while.  A girl can't just sit around till her husband gets discharged.

   He didn't require further preparation and was easy to aim.

   William's gasp was maybe louder than mine when I pushed down.  At first
maybe I wasn't quite straight, but that took only a moment to resolve.  I
know I should have worked it in slower, but I forgot.  Or maybe William
pushed more than I planned.

   Debby was climaxing on her side of the curtain, panting with each
bounce.

   Clenching my backside, William held me impaled for what seemed the
longest time, watching my face for a signal.

   I waited as long as I could, then looked at the rafters.

   We began to rock, slowly at first, then faster and faster.  He and I
were a good match.  I was glad we'd moved from the chairs.

   Come on, Coastguardsman William, and I'll show you how.

   I orgasmed way too fast and maybe so did William, but so what?  I hoped
the curtain blocked more of our sound than theirs, but whatever they heard
they heard.  No secrets in the Auxiliary.  It's just for the war, like
they'd explained.

   Debby had no doubts afterward.  "Double bulls-eyes!  You came like a
cutter, full throttle," saluting me.

   "I guess," still in a bit of a buzz, if not from the act at this point,
from the realization.  I'd my new brassiere still in my hand.  No sense
bothering to put it on.

   "Penney's?" Jane wondered.  "Thought so," recognizing the cut.  "Got
your panties?" then moving to a related subject.  "Did you make him an Able
Bodied Seaman?"

   I remembered the joke.  "By being his...?"

   "First Mate," she jumped in.  "The guys at the station said he was a
virgin.  He gets thrown overboard, sort of a promotion.  The ensign says he
has to wear a lifejacket.

   She looked me over.  "Remembered your underwear but forgot your
raincoat. We always miss something, don't we?"

   Raincoat?  Oh my!  He'd not volunteered and I not asked!

   I guess Jane read my face.  "Oh damn," she concluded.

   "Well, we only did it once," I assured her.

   She said she'd talk to Eunice.

   Riding home, I listed my reasons.

   I'd not made a hasty choice.  I'd said no to Charlie and not gone to the
Seashell with the blond boy.

   It wasn't in the bed that I'd bought with Dwight's paycheck.

   There'd been the curtain.

   William was Coast Guard.

   If I hadn't first-mated him, one of the others would have and they
hardly knew him.

   And, oh my, it felt so good!

   *** Eunice always said it was because of how she'd "clarified and
expedited" the station's personnel request.  The Lieutenant Commander
doesn't care who gets brought as long as he can do the job.  Once Eunice
heard what William hadn't worn, maybe it wasn't just luck that Dwight got
his Astoria posting as quickly as possible.

   What do you do when your Coastguardsman comes home from the war?  You
start with a pretty almost-new brassiere and do it two or three times that
very night.  And then some.  Enough anyway, that he remembers.  You
remember, too.  Where did he learn those moves?  Did that little senorita
even have straps on her dress?  Well, my husband didn't volunteer to get
posted down there.

   Guys don't count weeks.  Girls do.  Forty weeks is normal from your last
period.

   "Just a little premature," the nurse explained to Dwight, "but he's in
perfectly fine condition.  See where his hair's thin?  He'll catch up right
away.  Probably wear a uniform just like his dad.  Here, let me show you
how to hold a bottle."

   Dwight beamed.  Coastguardsmen trust authority, even if that authority's
nothing more than a starched white cap.  He'll make a great dad.

   I knew I'd seen that nurse somewhere before.  Something about her eyes.
In church?

   Afterwards the nurse told me she'd never make life difficult for a Coast
Guard wife, especially one who helps guard the beaches.  "They send your
husband to God-knows-where and leave you here!  The war and all, I can
imagine it gets lonely up in those lookouts."

   I nodded thanks.

   "Same around here.  The men are gone and we keep it running," waving at
the hospital.  "We nurses got us a canasta club.  We call ourselves the
Aides, though most of us are registered," touching her cap.  "We get those
Quaker boys sent to do their civilian public service.  It's easy 'cause a
hospital has lots of beds."

   "Quaker boys?"

   "They may be Quakers, but they're not that religious.  Remember me?"

   I looked at her.  "I'm sorry.  Maybe..."

   "Don't worry," she laughed.  "I sat behind you one time at the Seashell.
Is he the daddy?"

   "You were behind us?"

   "Don't worry," she again assured.  "It's just till the war's over."

   THE END

   Wherever you found this story on the web, thank you to the server.  My
problem is that I've no systematic way to update the various servers.  As
literary errors (or just lame word usages) are made known, I'll repair that
which is salvageable on /~Holly_Rennick.  My website's
not much graphically, I'll admit, but HTML isn't my native language.  If
you take the time to read me, don't wade through an early version.

   You can contact me via the site's message form, that HTML code by the
smart people at ASSTR.
   Holly