Julie's Cumshot
As I have mentioned before, Julie was an exceptionally talented swimmer and joined the UK Combined Services swim squad, participating in numerous events across various distances and strokes. One of the advantages of being a skilled athlete in the armed forces is the opportunity to travel extensively, funded by public expense, to compete in events in different regions and countries. Consequently, Julie and a few of her teammates spent a week away from our home base in Cyprus to attend a swim meet in Malta.
As I recall, the meet went very well, with Julie winning all bar one of her individual events, and the team being victorious overall. After the competition, they had to wait a couple of extra days in Malta before the next scheduled RAF trooper flight was to bring them home. So, the swimmers decided to mark their success by taking the opportunity to enjoy the nightlife and beaches, in and around Valletta, while they had the downtime. The latter turned out not to be a good plan.
At that time (mid-1970’s), Malta was notorious for having quite poor sanitation. Raw sewage spills into the sea were quite common (the island still faces significant challenges even today, especially in the high tourist months). In their final hours in Malta, several of the team started to feel ill. It was never 100% proven, but it is believed they had succumbed to a pollution incident, that had occurred in one of the bays they had been swimming in.
Upon their return to Cyprus, after what was likely a very uncomfortable flight due to their vomiting, three individuals, including Julie, were immediately admitted to the garrison sick quarters with a severe gastrointestinal infection. By the next day, Julie's condition had worsened considerably, leading to her transfer to the RAF Military Hospital in Akrotiri, where she presented with a high fever, severe dehydration, and the beginning of neurological deficits.
Long story short, Julie spent three weeks in hospital, and another few weeks on sick leave, before she was ready to consider resuming work, and any form of physical relationship. So, we were both really ‘hot to trot,’ when we eventually found ourselves alone, in one of our shagging spots. A disused accommodation hut, in the female compound. To my dismay, once there Julie dropped a bit of a bombshell on me.
As a result of her illness, Julie had had to stop taking her oral contraceptive pills, so the protection they gave had lapsed. Furthermore, the MO was, due to a few minor lingering aftereffects from the infection, not willing to prescribe a new supply right away. She must wait at least until she had been given a fully clean bill of health. This, he patronisingly informed her, meant that if she were to have intercourse, which he did not approve of for single servicewomen anyway, alternative precautions must be used. The bummer was, not knowing of this situation in advance, I did not have ‘alternative precautions’ with me. And neither did Julie.
I was really pissed off with what I was hearing and went at once into selfish mode. Why were we risking being caught ‘out of bounds’ if we would not be able to fuck, (it was strictly forbidden for males to enter the females only area and could result in disciplinary action, or even cell time for me.) We could, and often had to, manually, and occasionally orally, satisfy each other, in less risky, albeit less private locations. In my frustration, I sarcastically suggested I may as well go back to my own block, for a wank. To my astonishment, Julie at once retorted, “Why leave to do that. Why not do it here. Do it here for me to watch, while I do it for you too.”
Now the idea of exhibitionist mutual masturbation was not entirely new to me. It had in fact featured prominently in the earliest days of my sexual enlightenment, with my teenage school friend, Janet; as we discovered the delights of each others' bodies, and sex together (see part 02 – Teenage Kicks). But Julie had never given any sign previously, that it was something she would want to do. I guess there had never been the need before.
I was in but wanted to be sure that she was really onboard, before we started anything, so queried exactly what she had in mind. Her response, again, surprised me. It was to be a total solo act. We were not allowed to touch each other at all. We would both strip off, then in our own time, bring ourselves manually to orgasm. The other person must be able to see exactly what we were always doing to ourselves. But there was a get out clause. Either could ‘cry off’ and halt the ‘game’ at any point if it became too uncomfortable for us.
Ahh, so it was a ‘game.’ A really good game, by the sounds of it. And I was certainly ready to kick off. We spent a few moments negotiating and clarifying the finer points of the rules. In particular, I wanted to insist it was not a competition. There were to be no winners or losers, that would ruin the enjoyment I hoped we would get from it. Julie agreed, and we ‘shook on it.’ Let the games commence.
