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The funeral was over and we had scattered mom’s ashes to the four winds, per her last wishes. She had lived 89 adventurous years, the last 30 as a widow. We had retired to her house, now our house to do with as we pleased, to divide up her personal belongings. There were five of us kids, if you can call 50 to 65 year old siblings kids, and we had made short work of it. My two brothers and two sisters were gone, having taken what they could with them. I was sitting in moms kitchen with my wife, poring over an ammo box full of personal effects and letters that my parents had written each other during their early married years. Most of them written while dad was overseas fighting the Germans and mom was home with me, a just off the breast two year old brat. I vaguely remember being babysat by my grandmother while mom went to work at the local truck plant, taking dads place on the assembly line. Mom was a very headstrong woman, who ran the household with something of an iron grip, both before dad came home, and after. She taught us all to think for ourselves, go after the things we wanted, be tolerant of others beliefs and opinions, be polite, and, most important of all, don’t take a lot of shit from anyone! As headstrong as she was, I was still surprised at what I was reading. It started off with the expected stuff, like ‘I miss you so much darling and can’t wait for you to come home.’ Then it started getting more and more graphic. Reading this made me feel like a voyeur, much of this obviously not meant to be seen by anyone other than my folks. I just couldn’t bring myself to put them down. It was almost like a soap opera, but with way more sex than TV allows. I picked up one dated December 20 th 1942 and began to read it. Dear rus escort Dot, By the time you get this, Christmas will be long gone, but I hope the spirit of the season will not be. I am consumed with guilt! I went into the local village. A place called XXXXXXXX. near our training base. Got a little soused at the Pub, flirted with a local girl, who was also a little tipsy. Before I knew it we were at her flat and she and I , well, we ended up in bed. I don’t remember what, if anything I did. I was way too drunk! I don’t even know her name! I’m so very, very sorry! If I hadn’t drunk so much, maybe I could have stopped! Can you forgive me? I do love you sweetheart, Jack I was stunned! My father had cheated on mom! He was such a quiet man. Unassuming. Docile. I never, in a million years would have thought him capable of such a thing. I showed the letter to my wife Carol, who’s only comment was, “War does strange things, dear. Were you able to resist the temptations of the flesh in Saigon or Tokyo, when you were in the service?” “That was different! We weren’t married.” I snapped back, not sure if I was royally pissed at my old man, or just disappointed. Carol replied, “Was it? Really?” and then dropped the conversation, returning to her work in the kitchen, and I went on to the next letter, this one from Mom to Dad in response. Dear Jack, January 30 th , 1942 When I read your letter, I cried. For me. For you. I have tried to forgive, but, I’m not there yet! Many of my co-workers at the plant think I should drop you like a hot rock, letting you shack up with your nameless female stranger. Others have urged me to forgive you. ‘There’s a war that needs to be won.’ ‘After all, you yenimahalle escort were drunk and this hussy took advantage of you.’ I’m going to have to think about it. February 1 st , 1942 One of my co-workers, Jane was over for coffee this morning. We talked a lot! I mean A LOT. About you. About me. About us. She has convinced me that it is easy to lose yourself in the moment. How do I know you’ll survive? When you get home, will you still want me? And what about me? My urges. Not a night goes by that I don’t long for your tender touch. On a couple of occasions I’ve even found myself lying in bed thinking of you, only to discover that I’ve touched myself. Put my finger inside. Am I allowed to do that, since you caved in to your baser instincts? Am I allowed to go farther? February 2 nd , 1942 Jane came by again today. We talked a lot more. I’ve come to the conclusion that if you can play, I can play. So go ahead. And when the war is over and you come home, hopefully, your wild oats will have been depleted, and mine also. I will take you back under one condition. You will tell me, in lurid detail, about each and every time you fuck. That’s right! I said fuck! I’ve learned a whole new language since I started working at the truck plant. I know you know all those dirty words, and quite frankly, they turn me on. To be fair, I will do the same for you. It may take me some time, but I will do it. February 3 rd , 1942 In keeping with my pledge, I’m going to tell you about Jane and I. She works next to me on the truck line. She is single, never married, tall, almost black hair, nice bust. And, boy can she kiss! Last night after putting Tommy to bed, she and I sat on the divan with a couple of beers. We got to talking some more and drinking some more. She advised me to let you do your thing and me do mine and approved of yesterday’s entry. Then she surprised me with a kiss. Tentative, soft, and gentle at first. It felt nice, our lips brushing together. It didn’t put me off at all! So, when her tongue separated my lips and began grazing my teeth, I responded in kind. She held my head in her hands as our tongues fenced, back and forth, first in my mouth, then in hers. I felt a tingle down there, and some wetness too, kind of like when you play with me. It seemed only natural to continue. Her hands slid from my face to my breasts as we continued to kiss. Unbuttoning my blouse, she continued to kiss and caress. My lips, my chin, my neck. Before I knew it my bra was on the floor and Jane was feeding at my breast. God, it felt so good! And at the same time so nasty and depraved. If I’m going to do this, shouldn’t it be with a guy? Maybe a total stranger? Like you did? But I didn’t have time to think about it. Jane bared her chest and led my face to the fullness of her breast, urging me to suckle on it like a baby. It felt so good Jack! Her fingers dancing on my breasts, plucking my nipples, making them hard with need, as I lavished kisses on hers, feeling them stiffen under my touch. One thing led to another and by morning she had taught me how to get her wet, using my fingers and my tongue. She tasted so good! And she did the same to me. It felt so intense! Like nothing I’ve ever felt before! And afterwards, we kissed again, tasting each others juices. Now that I’ve bared my body to Jane, and my soul to you, I expect you to do the same. Leave no detail out! If you want to keep me, write back. Your loving wife, Dot This was absolutely incredible! First, my dad cheats on my mom, then mom cheats on dad! And with a woman! I couldn’t wait to read the next letter! March 19 th , 1942 Dear Dot, I’m surprised at your openness and will try to reciprocate.

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