S1/N7 The Air Raid Shelter

WC 1495

The Air Raid Shelter

Flight Leader Robert Fitzhugh Graham was on furlough in London.

Lady Ann Montgomery was a District Supervisor in the Home Defense Forces.

When the Air Raid siren sounded, Lt Graham started running. From down the street, Lady Ann motioned to him frantically. The bombs were falling, each one louder than before.

"Hurry Up!" she hollered, hiking up her skirt in a full sprint, and ducking into a building.

She raced down the stairs, three steep flights to the basement. He followed the lanky Warden, hard on her heels. As they reached the bottom the explosions were almost on top of them. She grabbed his hand and they ducked under a heavy oak table. A thousand pounder exploded from above. For an instant time seemed suspended; then came the concussion and blast. The building buckled and swayed, followed by a dark and deathly silence. The air was filled with acrid smoke and choking dust.

“Close call,” he said hacking and coughing. “Forty sorties and not a scratch and tonight…, I nearly buy the farm.”

Lady Ann crawled out from under the table.

“Do you know where we are?” he asked.

“We’re in Auxiliary Shelter 237,” she replied. “Let me see if we can get some power on.”

“Not if you smell what I do,” he warned. “For gods sake, don’t be flipping any switches. One spark and we’ll join the rubble.”

He heard the door of a fuse box open and the sound of the main switch being thrown open. The smell of the gas was getting stronger.

“We need to get up stairs," he said, "This stuff is heavy and settles low.”

They climbed upward, feeling their way through the absolute blackness. At the second landing, the stairway was clogged with debris.

“Damn bad luck!” he muttered.

“My name is Ann,” she said, feeling for his hand. “I’m Robert,” he answered, shaking it.

“So you’re one of those hot shot fighter pilots.”

“Hot enough,” he replied, “And you must be one of the Iron Maidens of the Home Defense Corps.”

“I suppose.”

“For a woman you can really stride..., nice legs too.”

“For a little guy, you’re pretty quick yourself.”

“Tall enought for an RAF pilot,” he said indignantly."

“How tall is that?”

“Five foot seven.”

She tittered.

“What’s so funny? This body fits nicely into the cockpit of a Spitfire.”

“Sorry, if I don’t laugh, I’ll get hysterical. We could have a serious problem on our hands.”

“Why did you have to remind me?” he scolded. “Don’t they teach you not to scare the customers?”

“Nonsense! Anybody with forty sorties, surely has nerves of steel.”

Listen, Annie, since I’m about to die, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I have a bloody ulcer that’s killing me, I get physically sick after missions and it takes all my willpower to climb into the cockpit of a fighter. I’ve spent my whole life pretending I was something I wasn’t and trying to live up to the expectations of others…so spare me the tough guy nonsense.”

“Actually I was hoping for someone to lean on... I guess I should know better. Only one man has ever really offered… and at the time he was no more than a boy.”

“Are you telling me you actually met your Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Actually I did, and for a awkward girl, once in a lifetime is probably the limit.”

“So what did he do?”

“Some boys were teasing me and he told them to stop.”

“Did he now?” he reflected, strangely touched by a memory.

“They beat him up.”

“Well that’s life, those damned dragons always seem to be getting the upper hand.”

“You know, Robert, when you held me under the table, I thought you might be that kind of man.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“By your leave... Can you can imagine how troublesome my life has been living up to expectations? The only time I ever behaved like a knight, I got thumped, just like your hero. Why if Brune Hilda hadn’t come to my rescue I’d have been a gonner.”

“What?”

“That crazy Amazon jumped in and saved my jollies.”

“Oh my god! You’re Fitzhugh Graham.”

“Once more at your service... Lady Montgomery, I presume?”

“How could this happen, it’s been at least fifteen years?”

“I never forgot you.”

“You might have written or stopped by.”

“I always was a bit shy.”

“Was I not pretty enough?”

“Hard on yourself, aren’t you?“

“If it were daylight, you’d have a better understanding.”

He stepped towards her, reaching out.

“I hope you don’t mind my touching you, but I don’t like being alone in the dark.”

“Your arms are most welcome, Robert, especially now.”

“Since life is fleeting, do you mind if I kiss you?”

“...Thought you’d never ask.”

The embraced. In the clutch of each other’s arms they kissed long and passionately, before at last coming up for air.

“Oh my,” she said, “That was much more than I expected. My heart is all a flutter, and such a heat in my stomach.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Are you a virgin?” she asked

“Don’t spread it around.”

“Well I am too. Wouldn’t it be tragic if we died tonight, never knowing what it was like?”

“I was thinking the same thing. Perhaps we should remedy that.”

“What do you propose?”

“Let’s say that we lay our clothes on the floor and enjoy a creative moment… before it’s our last?”

“I accept,” she said, unbuttoning his shirt. At the same time he unbuckled her wool skirt, pulling it over her hips and letting it drop to the floor. Then he took her panties and pulled them over her buttocks and let them fall to her ankles. She undid his belt as he pulled off his shirt and slipped out of his shorts.

“Mind helping with my bra?” she asked.

He reached behind and undid the two buttons. His fingers lifted the shoulder straps as she slipped her arms from inside. Finally they were both naked, not that either one could tell. To verify matters he reached out and touched her breast, squeezing a nipple. Her breath caught. Rising on his tiptoes he reached up with his lips, as she leaned down to kiss him.

“I think its time for the floor,” he suggested.

They reclined on their clothes. It was much more comfortable than standing and his body on hers gave a delightful sensation. He straddled placing her fingers around his straining member.

“Oh my,” she said in surprise, “you are quite endowed?”

“Since you have no basis for comparison, I won’t comment.“

“I suppose I need to put this in my... you know what,” she said tugging the girth towards her.

“Let me get closer,” he answered, nudging her thighs apart with his knees.

“Is this how I do it?” she inquired, twisting it into the soft folds.

“You seem to have the hang if it.”

As it began sliding inside, she stiffened.

“Ouch! that smarts. I believe Robert, that you have just deflowered me… Further that we‘re getting blood all over our clothes.”

“Take a deep breath and lay still,” he answered… If we stop now, it's over. Am I hurting you?”

“No, the sting has subsided, but I feel the discharge running down my thighs.”

“Want me to pull back?”

“No, please go on.”

He began sliding it in and out. As he worked, she closed her eyes. A surreal feeling came upon her, distracting from the intercourse.

Hmmm, she thought. How long has it been since my last period? It started over a week ago… no it was longer than that… Easter morning it was… I remember putting on a pad before church.

On top of her, Robert continued to stroke…

Ten, eleven, twelve, days ago, she thought.

Suddenly she felt him swell and begin to splay, squirting inside.

Thirteen, fourteen…Yes, fourteen, Oh my dear! The timing for this could not be worse. "Are you finished? Is that it?”

He retched.

“Come now,” she chided, "…was it that bad?”

“My ulcers,” he answered. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Poor man,” she said comforting him. “Now get off me.”

Feeling around for her clothes she found her panties and bra. They were covered with blood and grime. She shrugged, and put them back on. Then she donned her skirt and blouse. She handed Robert his shorts and T-Shirt.

Above, came a voice and a shaft of light…. “Anyone down there?”

Robert sighed, “Fancy that! We’ve been rescued. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Only if you want to.”

The door yawned open and light flooded in.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said grinning.

“And you’re seven foot tall.”

Taking her pen she wrote out an address, “Six o’clock,” she said, squeezing the paper into his hand. “and I mean tomorrow night, not a decade and a half from now."


WC 1495