Subic Part two

When last seen, our heroine had landed herself in the middle of a very interesting situation.  Subic Bay, labeled one of the last pirate ports in the world, used to double as the Navy's personal whore-house.  Join our intrepid huntress as she navigates her way into and out of a number of fascinating situations!  Don't feel lost - just read the prior post 'Subic' and you will be right at home!

So there I was – along with a couple dozen other wives, smack bloody dab in the middle of what amounted to a carnal Disneyland.  The only thing separating us from that clandestine and terribly alluring world was the bridge over Shit River.  Of course, we wives weren’t supposed to cross that bridge and go party in town.  Not on our own, anyway.  That privilege was allotted our husbands alone.  Frankly, it was more flag than wedding ring.  American women simply did not venture out into Subic unaccompanied - and certainly not after dark!  I guess by ourselves, we were considered corruptible.  So no un-escorted wandering allowed (ostensibly).  Instead, families were kept on a small island out in the bay – lovely, comfortable (relatively speaking), and very far away from the distractions offered up on the economy.  That’s what being off base was called – going on the economy.  So - wives were encouraged to make use of the many organized attractions – snorkeling, supervised shopping trips (needless to say, prices were very low), spending time fucking their husbands.  It wasn’t exactly forbidden to cross that bridge (how else could you do the shopping thing), but the ferry to and from the island stopped promptly at 10 pm every evening.  After that, it became pumpkin time.  If you weren’t on it, you would either be stuck on base, with no billet, or at the mercy of Subic night life – something actively discouraged by all concerned.

So, like a good little girl, I snorkeled, and I shopped, and I hung out with Robin, one of the wives who flew out with me.  Both of our husbands served on the same ship, which was about the only thing we had in common.  I really think she was more guard than companion.  By then, I had amassed quite the reputation for doing the unexpected.  I had no respect for rank, you see – didn’t give a tinkers damn in hell who the fuck anybody was – still don’t.  That - and the crowd I ran with moved through life with the speed of light; in other words, I had fun – big, noisy, attention-grabbing fun - and I could beat the pants off any sailor at pool or poker without breaking a sweat.  Robin only moved on the periphery of my world.  The girl had a conservative streak a mile wide – and her husband was the proverbial stick in the mud.  In fact, I’d say he put the ‘B’ in boring. 

Now Robin seemed to be enjoying herself – paddling around in the water, buying rattan furniture - whereas I was bored past tears.  Day after day after day – I wanted to see everything – as in every thing - not just what was ‘allowed’.  Life’s too fucking short to spoil it with ‘I shouldas.’  I’d recently had an object lesson in that back stateside, and didn’t want to pass up any opportunities to experience what the day could bring. Subic in all its venal glory beckoned, and I wanted to follow.  On those few occasions I had managed to venture outside the parameters, I struck up some friendships with a few of the girls.  As tall as I am, I practically towered over them, and I was a wife – something they aspired to be.  Robin may have turned her nose up, but I sat down and shared a beer.  Learned a few things as well.  Oh boy did I!  Got me a guided tour of one of the whore-houses – replete with active demonstration; but I’ll save that tale for another time.  So you see - I was more than ready to get up and get out.  Anything other than more shopping!  I mean, how many shell lamps and coral necklaces can a person buy?

It came down to the last night there.  We were scheduled to fly out the following afternoon.  Robin and I were having dinner at the Officers Club on base.  Now – my husband wasn’t an officer.  Her’s was.  Not that that made one whit of difference to me.  I wasn’t in the god-damn military; so as far as I was concerned, I could go anywhere I fucking well pleased.  I’d had this out with the base personnel at Yokosuka (that’s where my husband was stationed).  As a civvie, I technically outranked ‘em.  All civilian personnel do – part of the game.  Most wives behaved as if they held the same rank as their spouse.  That’s what was expected – kowtowing to the powers that be.  Not me, Bucko!  Nothing daunts me – I once stood down a six-foot-six motherfucker carrying a buck-knife as long as my arm – so some yahoo with excess scrambled eggs on his ice-cream suit aint likely to do me shit.  I’d show my ID – and practically dare the bastards to say no.  NO ONE tells me where to go or what to do.  EVER. 

Dinner was great.  She and I sucked down 1 lobster apiece and two bottles of wine.  We were relaxed, and very pleasantly buzzed.  It was coming up on the witching hour, so the club had mostly emptied out.  Just Robin and myself, and one other table – an elderly gentleman, with a younger woman and man.  The older guy and the woman were dancing – beautifully – a waltz, straight out of Lawrence Welk.  I watched, enjoying every dip and twirl – they glided across the floor like they were on air.  Just wonderful.  I love to dance, you see – really love it.  I would have traded my entire career in the theatre just to stand one or two seasons in the corps de ballet – not even a principle, mind you – anything to have the opportunity to dance.  So I always enjoy seeing someone who can do it right.  Robin and I killed the final bottle of wine, and stood up to leave.  The ferry would be at the dock in about 10 minutes.  On our way out, I stopped over at the other table to compliment the couple on how well they moved together.  ‘Thanks’, the older man said – ‘we’ve been doing it for years – she’s my daughter.’  Then he invited us to join them.

Robin indicated she wanted to go, but I persuaded her to wait just a few minutes.  I mean, what was on the island?  No TV, no husbands (they had the duty that night) – just bugs – big ones; and there was no hurry to get back to that.  This guy was intelligent, articulate – and he was there with his daughter, for Christ’s sake!  When he introduced himself as chief civilian minister for the base (Methodist), any qualms I might have had evaporated.  I mean - what could be safer than that?  A preacher and his daughter.  Talk about chaperones!  Safe as houses.  When they heard we were leaving the next day, the gentleman invited us out on the town for the evening – their treat.  Robin still demurred – she was worried what her husband might say to going out without him.  Especially considering everything we had heard and already seen.  I told her she was welcome to go back if she wished, but I was gonna have me some fun!  Besides – look who the guide was going to be!  A fucking Methodist minister – just like being in church, right?  I’ll admit, I pushed a little.  This girl needed some time away from hubby – he tended to frown if she laughed too much; and that’s not really conducive to development of self.  Robin took one look at the clock, then said yes.  Goodie, goodie, I thought – fun times in the old town tonight!

We lingered at the table for maybe another 15 minutes, chatting about this, that and the other.  By the time we were ready to leave; the boat would have been long gone – so no matter what, we were locked into our ‘fun’ night out.  We exited at the back of the club, passing through the kitchen.  Parked in the driveway was the church van, its logo plainly visible on the door.  So – our guide and companion wasn’t lying about that, at least.  Mr. Minister got behind the wheel with his daughter, Robin and I and the as yet unidentified younger man all squished into the back.  Suddenly, a very young Philippine girl jumped in beside our intrepid Minister, kissing him on the cheek.  I was a bit taken aback, but assumed she was a friend of his daughters.  Boy was I ever wrong!  As the van was backing out and heading toward the front gate, our religious friend made the final introductions.

Girlfriend there was his hook for the night – yeah, you heard right – she was a paid hooker - and evidently his regular companion.  We weren’t even out the gate before she unzipped his fly and started giving the man a blow-job.  While he was driving.  With us in the back.  Including his daughter, who didn’t look at all surprised at the sight of dear old daddy’s dick.  And the younger man?  Oh, this gets even better – he was the daughter’s lover – not boyfriend, mind you – lover; but only on those days her husband had the duty.  And the husband knew all about it.  They made a point of telling me.  You see, hubby and the minister shared the hooker.  On alternate Wednesday’s, I guess – who the fuck knows?  Oh boy!  I have to say, this shocked even me.  Before I could find a moment to catch my breath, ‘daughter’ and lover-boy began seriously sucking face, his hand up her skirt rooting for gold like my friend and I weren’t even there.  That’s right – Sin Central - and the evening was yet young!

So ends part two. Stay tuned next week as our heroine uncovers the finer techniques of bull-riding!

Comments

[StealthBadger]

o.o; *fans self*

(excellent imagery, especially on her thoughts about the island, boredom, and the curiousity she shows :)

[Debby]

This is just waaaaay tooo good. Can't wait for the next installment. You sure do know how to write a cliffhanger!!! BTW, I would have gladly gone out and partied with you anytime!!!!!!!

[pia]

a bit scared to know what happens next. but very much looking forward to it

[oldwhitelady]

I am shocked! absolutely shocked at the goings on! However, I'm not all that surprised. I can't wait to see what the next installment contains:)

[kathy a]

a few weeks ago, you left a lovely note for me on another blog. i'd written somethng mentioning the joys of pregnancy and childbirth at an overseas military base. thanks!

the base was yokosuka. small world.

awaiting the next installment...

[Allen Quinn]

Hey Fat Lady,

You have hit the nail on the proverbial head, where the US Government is involved there is unethical, deplorable and illegal behavior.

Your description of the P.I. is spot on.

12 Years of Service to the lust and greed of a nation.

Thanks, Keep It Up.

Allen
(13 Visits to Subic, 2 to Clark and I too lived in Hiyama nearby to Yokosuka.)