A War Remembered Ch. 01

The strength of his orgasms - I just had two, he thought, that had never happened before - put him in a relaxed state. He drifted off to his first sound sleep since that horrible day in Paul Stewart's office.

***

Frankie arrived home from the plant, thoroughly exhausted. The only mail was a $25 War Bond that Amy had purchased right before her plane crashed six months ago. He wondered if he would live long enough to cash it in.

He opened up a can of Spam, heated some butter in a black cast-iron skillet, and started frying dinner. Since Amy's death, he didn't feel like eating. Fortunately, Frankie was never much of a drinker, so he did not turn to the bottle like many who had lost a spouse in this horrible war. Instead, he would come home, cobble together a small meal, and eat it while listening to Edward R. Murrow report news of the war from London on the Emerson.

As he slowly ate his dinner, Frankie again thought about what Maria had said to him right after the funeral about being lonely. Hell, he was lonelier than he had ever felt in his life. Sure, there were plenty of women at the plant who had let him know - some more directly than others - that they were available for dinner and a movie, or drinks and dancing. Hell, with so many local boys in the service, some of the women he worked with made it clear that they were available for much, much more than that, especially for a good-looking guy whose wife had died in the war effort. But, despite his constant state of horniness, he just wasn't ready to explore those possibilities.

And to make it even worse, Maria was no longer available for an occasional Friday night trip to the movies or the bowling alley to roll a few games with their friends. As was becoming so common during the war, she had met a guy and, after a whirlwind romance, married him. An Ensign in the Navy, her husband Chet was assigned to a transport ship that brought supplies from San Diego to Pearl Harbor and returned to San Diego with a hold full of casualties from the fighting in the Pacific. He was able to find cheap housing near the base and sent for Maria shortly after he returned to duty. So, while she and Frankie corresponded regularly, he had not seen her for more than two months. But that hadn't stopped Frankie from thinking about Amy and Maria together. In fact, it had become his favorite beat-off fantasy. He wondered if Maria was getting a nice Southern California tan in that two-piece bathing suit she had bought shortly after arriving in San Diego. She had sent him a photo of her wearing it standing on the beach next to Chet; Frankie had cut her husband out of the photo, which he kept on the night stand next to his bed. And he continued to keep a well-stocked supply of Vaseline from Becker's Pharmacy.

***

By early 1945, it was very apparent that the Allies were winning the war. The Americans had repulsed the last-gasp German offensive in what was being called the Battle of the Bulge. In the Pacific, the successful attacks against the Japanese naval, land and air forces were giving US citizens hope that the war would be finished before the end of the year. The scuttlebutt around the Republic plant was that P-47 production was going to halt by St. Patrick's Day. Frankie began to think about what he would when the war was over. He and Archie Feeney, whom Frankie had become very close to, had a few discussions about starting their own business designing and building ten-passenger planes to sell to big corporations to ferry their executives around the country. But that would take a lot of capital, capital that they didn't have at the moment. They had projected that they needed at least twenty grand to get the business started, and together they didn't have anything close to that kind of dough.

***

It was a dreary February Saturday. Frankie had done a whole lot of nothing since getting up. He was thinking about going to the pet store and buying a dog to keep him company. Despite continued efforts of the women at the plant, he still had no interest in dating. But his devotion to masturbating was tireless.

The phone rang, startling him. He often asked himself why he kept a telephone, even though it was a cheaper "party" line. He rarely called anyone and incoming calls were even less frequent. He walked over to the old, mahogany breakfront by the Emerson and picked up. "Hello."

There was no response. After a few moments of silence, he said "Hello, is anyone there?"

He listened closely. He couldn't tell if the faint noise he heard was normal static or a human sound. Again he spoke, somewhat annoyed. "If you want to talk, you'd better say something or else I'm gonna hang up."

"Frankie, please don't hang up."

"Maria, is that you?"

The noise that he had heard earlier returned, but it was much louder this time.

"Maria, what's the matter? Why are you crying?"

"He's dead, Frankie. Chet is dead!"

***

Despite the dominance of the US Navy in the Pacific, every ship afloat was a potential target for Japanese kamikaze planes and Shinyo suicide craft, which were small motorboats laden with explosives. While few American ships were actually sunk by these weapons, many were damaged and thousands of Navy personnel were killed or wounded.

Chet was stationed on the USS War Hawk, a LaSalle-class transport ship. On January 10, 1945, the War Hawk was attacked in the dark by a Shinyo suicide boat. The ensuing explosion killed 61 men. Chet was among the dead and his body was buried at sea with the others who didn't survive the attack. It took a few weeks for the War Department to notify the families.

***

"What am I going to do now, Frankie," Maria sobbed. "I'm so lost. My closest friend Martha Pepkowski's husband died in the attack with Chet and she's going back to her family in Oklahoma. What in God's name am I going to do?" she repeated.

"Before we get into that, have you told Mom and Dad?"

"No, I can't bring myself to do that yet. You know how much they were against me marrying Chet in the first place. Do you remember what they said? 'Wait until Chet comes home after the war. If he gets killed you'll be just like the tens of thousands of widows whose husbands never made it back from combat. And whatever you do, don't get pregnant. You don't want to leave young children without their father.' Well, I guess they were right about the children thing." That only made Maria sob harder.

Frankie let Maria cry it out a little. Then, softly, he said "Listen, I'll square things with the folks. I'll head right over to see them when we're done talking. How about Chet's parents?"

"They received the same telegram that I did. They told me they would love to have me come live with them. But what the hell would I do living in Podunk County, Pennsylvania? Raise chickens and learn how to make squirrel fricassee?" She laughed bitterly and went on. "And I know Mom and Dad mean well, and I do love them, but there is no way I can go back to living there."

"It's okay, Maria. If you want to come back East instead of working on your San Diego tan, you can always live with me."

"Frankie, do you mean it?"

"Of course, silly. You once told me that there no reason to ever be lonely. And to tell you the truth, I've been lonely for a long time, now. Your living here would solve that problem for both of us, dontcha' think?"

You could hear the smile and relief in Maria's reply." Frankie, I'll send you a telegram with my travel details. I should be home in about a month. I need to sort out a bunch of things here. And the trip will take almost a week by bus."

"I'll be waiting for you with open arms, sis."

"That's why I'm coming back, Frankie. See you soon."

So, instead of buying a dog, Frankie went to tell his folks the news. Then he went to Blakely Realty and made arrangements to see two-bedroom apartments. Unfortunately, Roger Blakely, an old family friend, didn't have much to show him. Besides, Frankie didn't know if he could afford the rents they were asking for two-bedroom places - $40 per month was pretty hefty. While he could afford it on his current pay, his continued employment at the plant was uncertain after the war. Besides, if he and Archie Feeney started their own company, money would be tight. He decided to wait until Maria got home to decide. In the meantime, she could stay in the bedroom and he would sleep on the couch.

***

Maria felt beat up when she got off the bus near Penn Station that blustery March Thursday. Five nights sleeping on a seat she shared with an elderly man who smelled like cheese had taken its toll on her. Having shipped her belongings home, all she carried was her purse and a small travel bag. She shivered when the gust of wind off the Hudson River hit her in the face. "Christ Almighty," she thought, "I forgot how damned cold New York is." She started walking inside the terminal to the main waiting room to buy a ticket for the next bus to Massapequa. When she turned the corner, Frankie was standing there. It took a second for her to recognize him, but when she did she let out a loud "Whoop" and jumped into his arms.

"Sis, you're a sight for sore eyes. You look swell. Welcome home."

"I know I must look dreadful. But thanks for meeting me here. I was just about to find a bus to Massapequa."

"I thought you would have had your fill of buses by now, Maria. How about we head to Horn & Hardart for a cuppa and piece of lemon merengue pie before we head home? My car is parked around the corner."

Maria looked at Frankie. He looked a bit older then she remembered and she saw some sadness in his eyes. But he remained ruggedly handsome and felt solid under his winter coat. She gave him another hug, squeezing him tightly. "I'd just as soon get to your apartment, get out of these clothes and take a long hot shower. Almost six days in the same outfit is about five days too long."

When she hugged him the second time, Frankie could feel his sister's firm breasts through both of their coats. He also felt a twitch under his belt. "Fine with me, Stinky. Maybe I'll sneak a peek while you're showering and check out some of those sunny California tan lines. And remember, it's our apartment now."

Maria snickered and replied "'Stinky'? You're probably right."

They both laughed. Then she added "And maybe you won't have to sneak."

***

When they got back to his apartment, Frankie showed Maria where he had placed all of the boxes she had shipped. He had brought the boxes marked "CLOTHES" into the bedroom and neatly stacked them in the closet. "I didn't feel comfortable putting your clothes away."

"Why not? Are you afraid of ladies' underwear?"

"Uh, no. But don't you think it's a little weird for a brother to be handling his sister's 'unmentionables'?"

Maria snapped "Are you kidding me, Frankie? Fercryinoutloud, it's 1945, not the Dark Ages. Where did Amy keep her bras and panties?"

Frankie blushed. "I haven't emptied Amy's clothes out of her dresser yet."

Maria immediately softened. "Oh, my poor brother. You couldn't bear to get rid of her clothes? How sweet. I'll tell you what, I'll put all of her things in these boxes after I empty them and we can bring them to the Salvation Army when we get a chance, okay? Or maybe we can put them in the basement at mom's, if you want to hold on to them."

Frankie nodded and pointed to the top dresser drawer. "That's where she kept her underwear."

Maria opened the drawer and began moving Amy's bras and panties onto the top of the bed, making room for her own. She noticed that some of the underwear looked, well, stained. She picked up a frilly bra and said "I had forgotten how big Amy's bosoms were. Definitely 'more than a handful,' right?" She looked pointedly at his hands and said "Well, maybe not yours, but they certainly gave my hands a run for their money," smiling impishly.

Frankie blushed even harder. "Maria?"

"What?"

"Remember that day when came into my room at mom's house after Amy died? You said that you and Amy had practiced kissing."

"Yes."

"What did you mean?"

Maria moved the bras and panties on the bed and sat down, patting the space next to her. "Why don't you sit down for a minute."

Frankie walked over and sat, keeping a respectful distance from his sister.

"Now you may be shocked about what I'm gonna tell you brother, but please don't judge me - or your wife - until I'm finished.

"After you left for Basic Training, Amy and I started spending a lot of time together. I mean a lot. We talked about everything and she became more than a sister-in-law to me; she was really my best friend. And best friends confide in each other - about everything. A month or so after you started Basic, Amy and I were having rum and cokes here at the apartment. She started telling me - for the millionth time - how much she missed you. But it was the first time she said she missed having sex. She said that when a person was used to having good sex - no she said great sex - and then it suddenly stopped, it would drive even a nun crazy. And she said that sex with you was great. That you really knew how to push her buttons.

"You have to realize that I didn't have sex until I married Chet and, to tell you the truth, there wasn't very much to it. But that's another story. Anyway, I told Amy that I was a virgin and was having a difficult time understanding what she was feeling. So, she started asking me about my experiences.

"First, she asked me about kissing. Well, even though I was a virgin, I certainly had had make out sessions with some of the guys I had dated. Amy wanted to know what I thought made someone a good kisser. Remember Bill Kennedy? Well, he was a pretty good kisser and I said that to Amy. She wanted to know what made him a good kisser. When I started to describe it to her, it just wasn't making any sense. Then, she asked me to show her. When I asked her how, she said 'just kiss me the way you like to be kissed." I was floored when she said that and shook my head no.

"But, you know Amy, she was always very persistent. She kept badgering me to kiss her the way I liked to be kissed. Now, the entire time we were talking, we had been drinking those rum and cokes and I was feeling pretty good. After about the tenth time that she asked, I softly grabbed her behind her head and drew her close to me. I very gently brushed my lips against hers and then backed away without letting go of her head. The second time, my lips pressed a bit harder against hers and, when I started to pull away, I opened my mouth a little. Amy moaned 'mmm hmm', which really excited me. The third time, I slipped my tongue between her full lips and it was like lighting a fuse on string of Black Cat firecrackers we used to blow off on Fourth of July."

Frankie sat there entranced. He couldn't believe that he was having this conversation with his sister about her and his wife. He noticed that Maria had started breathing a little irregularly as she spoke. And he felt the beginning of a hard on. He wanted the story to continue, but he was conflicted. Just then, Maria's warm hands grabbed one of his as she continued.

"So I said to her, 'Now that's the way I liked to be kissed. What do you think?' She looked at me and said 'Well, I can certainly see why 'cause it felt great to me. Do you want to feel what's it's like to kiss Frankie?'

"When she said that, it was like lighting the fuses on about a dozen cherry bombs in my panties. I just nodded 'yes.'

"She pulled me closer, and began to plant little butterfly kisses along my neck. She started under my left ear and moved across my throat until she finished under my right ear. She whispered 'Frankie likes to do that as he unbuttons my blouse so he can do this.' I had been wearing a blouse just like the one I have on now and Amy started to unbutton it. When she got to the fourth button, she spread my blouse apart and started more butterfly kisses, but now she was following the tops of my bra cups. On her third pass, she dipped one of my bra cups down and lightly licked my nipple before putting my breast back in the bra. I had never been more excited in my entire life, and it was with my sister-in-law.

"Frankie, is that really the way you liked to kiss Amy?"

Frankie sat there mesmerized. All he could do was nod. Amy's hands continued to hold his, but now she placed them in his lap, dangerously close to his penis.

"Frankie, do you miss kissing Amy that way?"

Again, Frankie nodded silently.

"But poor Amy isn't here, is she?"

Now he shook his head side-to-side.

Maria continued. "Do you think I could be an acceptable substitute?"

"But what about, well, you know?"

"Frankie, what I know is that your wife and my husband are both dead. I know that I have always been in love with you. I know that you are terribly lonely, like me. I know that we are going to live together for who knows how long. And I know that we have to get this sorted out."

Frankie didn't respond. He kept looking at her more intensely than he ever had. Maria didn't know whether he was going to cry or yell. They sat there and the only thing that moved was his trembling lower lip. Maria knew she had to break the silence.

"Listen, Frankie, I realize how much of a shock this is. But I know that you're at lease intrigued by the prospect, at least if this is any indication," nudging his now fully engorged cock with their clasped hands. "I'm going to take a shower now because you were right about one thing: I'm pretty stinky. When I'm done, we can have something to eat and then finish unpacking. I won't rush you on this. It has to be right for both of us."

She leaned over and grazed his lips with hers. "I'll leave the bathroom door unlocked. My tan lines look pretty damned good."

***

Frankie went into the kitchen and looked at the Presto Cake Flour wall clock his mother had given him; it was already after 3pm. Too late for lunch and too early for dinner, something light would have to do. He rummaged in his cupboard and found a can of tuna. His icebox yielded some celery, an onion and a jar of Duke's mayonnaise. He quickly made some tuna salad, and assembled two sandwiches on white toast.

"Maria, lunch is ready. What do you want to drink? I'm gonna have a beer," he called towards the bathroom.

"A beer is fine, thanks. I'll be out in a minute."

Frankie put the plated sandwiches and two icy bottles of Rheingold on the kitchen table. His apartment didn't have a dining room and he wouldn't have eaten there if it had.

Maria walked barefooted into the kitchen wearing a bright green flowered kimono-like robe. Chet must have gotten it for her in Hawaii. It came above her knees and was belted at the waist by a matching sash. It looked like it was silk - it must have been made before the war because silk remained an exceedingly rare commodity in 1945.

She was vigorously drying her hair with a medium terry towel. Her movements caused her breasts to bounce and their rubbing under the robe had made her hard nipples jut out against the silky material. They looked like overripe raspberries ready to burst. Frankie knew she wasn't wearing a bra and wondered if she was without panties, too.

"Ah, I see that you're trying to seduce me with fine dining," she remarked after sitting down and glancing at the sandwiches.

"I'm doing no such thing!"

"Oh Frankie, you always take things so seriously. Haven't you ever heard the word 'sarcasm'?"

"Not since Mrs. Halpern's English class sophomore year. And I knew you were being sarcastic. Amy did all of the cooking. When she was killed, I had to fend for myself and I keep things pretty simple. I guess I'm a little sensitive about my lack of culinary skills."