So I Sing a Song of Love for Julia

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Looking back at an interesting life.
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Some of my stories jump about in different perspectives, this is no exception. Hopefully it will become clear - confusion is an integral theme of this story. No happy ending I'm afraid, so brace yourself. You have been warned,

With thanks to the awesome lyrics of the Double White album-- the soundtrack of my formative years..

* * * *

"Hello Julia dear, your daughter is here to see you."

The woman was clearly a liar. Joli had no daughter, she had no children at all; she was too young to have children. Why was the stupid woman who didn't even know her name speaking this nonsense? Furthermore there was another woman coming into her room. Two middle-aged strangers who had no business being there at all. Why couldn't everyone leave her alone?

Someone had come in earlier and dressed her in her best clothes, painted make-up on her face. She liked that; she had always enjoyed playing dress-up. She had no idea who these people were -- any of them. It was all very confusing.

None of them knew her name, it was Joli. Not quite the same as Julia, although it did sound similar.

The woman in the nurse's outfit looked familiar and seemed to be in charge but the stranger might be a thief and hadn't her mother always told her not to talk to strangers? Her mother was dead and she had to look after herself, escape danger wherever it was.

The stranger looked tired and wore an overcoat. She sat in a chair without being invited, but that was what grown-ups did. She spoke but her words made no sense.

"Hello Mum, how are you today? I've come to say 'Happy birthday'"

She needed to get rid of this fool. "Bugger off and leave me alone."

Joli didn't like being rude but she had no time for this nonsense. She had to concentrate and work out whether this was happening now or was something from years ago. It was more and more difficult to distinguish reality from this fiction and bits of songs playing endlessly in her head.

However, the woman's words had sparked off a memory, now there was a tune running in her mind from a song that she couldn't place. A rock and roll number, it had a heavy guitar riff and three strong beats before the words exploded:

You say it's your birthday
Well it's my birthday too, yeah
You say it's your birthday
We're going to have a good time

The nurse turned to the stranger and sighed, "Your mum doesn't recognise anyone any more. Not even me, and I'm here every day. It's all very sad and it's not going to get any better."

* * * *

She was riding in the back of a truck, sitting on bales of produce. The day was hot, the humidity was high. Braless, Julia could feel perspiration collecting under her boobs. It trickled slowly down over her ribs before being absorbed by her shirt.

The wind blew out her hair so that was great. She enjoyed the windswept natural look and her blonde locks contrasted with the deep tan that she had developed.

Eventually the bouncing of the small Toyota over the rough tracks ceased. They had stopped in a small village with a single hotel.

There were three travellers in this group. Julia had joined forces with two travelling companions, Joyce and her boyfriend Noel; they had some cash left over from the farm work so rather than camp at the side of the road they looked for a hostel. Besides, it was Noel's birthday so Joyce wanted to splash out. After pooling the little money between them they decided it was worth it.

The only hotel in town was basic with a wooden verandah and a bar on the ground floor. The three travelling companions entered. Noel was slim and tall; Joyce was brunette and with a nearly flat chest but spectacular legs contained in tight denim shorts. Strong and golden thighs stretched endlessly to a well-muscled ass and drew the eyes of everyone in the room.

The woman who owned the place was a burly lady who seemed to be called 'Sheila'. As they crossed the room to the bar where the owner was waiting, a group of old men drinking in the corner turned to look.

One called out loudly addressing Noel, "You lucky, lucky fucker." The others laughed uproariously.

Noel grinned sheepishly and they sat down to eat. There was not a great deal of choice, the selection was bacon and beans or hunger so they all chose bacon and beans. At least the drink was cheap and plentiful; cold lager served in pints quenched the thirst of a long dusty day.

Later they followed Sheila upstairs. The only available room was empty apart from a double bed in the middle with a single bed in the corner. Not even a wardrobe or a chest of drawers, but just a grimy window overlooking the street below. The driver of the truck had joined the drinkers at the bar and would not be taking them any further so tomorrow they would seek either employment or alternative transport -- if they could hitch a ride.

Julia dumped her gear next to the single bed and went to take a shower in a room at the end of the passageway, with what appeared to be a hose pipe mounted over a bath. When she was finished she wrapped up in a towel and crawled into the single bed. She had brought no pyjamas on the trip, so pulled her sheet over herself for modesty as the others came back from their showers.

The beds sagged in the and creaked with every movement. Julia listened in the gloom to the springs of the other bed as the moon fought its way through the thin curtains.

By the faint sounds Noel and Joyce were not yet sleeping. Eventually unable to sleep, Julia looked across the room. She could see Joyce sitting up on top of Noel, moving slowly up and down with her tiny bare breasts silhouetted against the moonlight.

Without being able to help herself, Julia felt her own nipples respond and her hands raised to feel their stiffness.

Then Joyce spoke, catching her by surprise. "Are you joining us then?"

Julia did not know how to respond. The offer of a threesome was not at all anticipated.

Joyce spoke again. "This isn't a show in the circus. Come on, for fucks sake."

Silently Julia complied. She rose out from her bed and walked naked across the room. In the darkness, a floorboard protested.

Joyce climbed off her boyfriend, leaving his penis glistening and standing stiffly to attention.

Joyce took him briefly in her mouth, sliding him smoothly between her lips and then tenderly kissing the end. "He enjoys having his balls stroked, you can start doing that if you wish."

Julia reached down and touched Noel's scrotum gingerly. The skin was warm and smooth with a light covering of hair so as Joyce took his shaft in her hand, Julia cupped his testicles. They were loose and heavy with the heat, and he spread his thighs widely to make room for her. She moved her hand to stroke him, then found a finger disappearing between the cheeks of his ass which clenched in reflex.

Slowly, she pulled her finger away to grip his testicles. He groaned in return, so she released them and commenced a gentle stroke.

Then she felt contact on her nipples; Joyce was nuzzling her. Teeth scraped gently against the stiff tissue, then soft lips fastened onto her and sucked hard.

It was too intense for Julia and she had to pull away.

Joyce hugged her and pulled her so that she fell forward, still held in the embrace. Joyce, lying on her back wrapped her strong legs around her waist and kissed her on the lips. Soon there was a tongue penetrating Julia's mouth.

Julia was excited but unsure. If it were not for the alcohol she would have recoiled, yet as a warm breeze drifted across the room in the moonlight she felt emboldened and safe.

She felt a moistness at the eroticism of the encounter, and as if knowing exactly how she felt there was a contact against her private parts. It was Noel, touching her whilst she was knelt over Joyce. Her ass was exposed and vulnerable and Noel had the tip of his finger against her clitoris.

The finger wiggled against her, causing her to gasp. Then it was sliding into her passage, well lubricated already. She felt the finger withdraw, making her feel empty for a second. However it was replaced by a much larger item; Noel had placed the tip of his penis against her entrance.

Julia made an effort to relax her body and pushed back, accepting him into her body. However he did not slide fully inside but remained with the thickest part just inside, between her labia.

He withdrew and repeated the partial penetration, teasing her.

Annoyed and frustrated, she pushed back firmly and impaled herself completely, taking him to the hilt. Slowly at first he began to thrust, then faster to establish a rhythm.

'Indefinite', someone had once joked to her. 'If you can feel his balls bouncing, he's in, definite'.

Soon Noel was pushing faster and firmly as he came to a climax. She held his balls and felt them contract as he came inside her.

Noel grunted animal-like and slumped over her. She could feel his hot breath panting on her neck and she felt the power of a female who had given a man an orgasm.

* * * *

The woman was opening the drawer in the cabinet where the television stood. It was very presumptuous of her, she had no right to be going through someone else's belongings. There was private stuff in there.

The woman pulled out a piece of card and showed it to the nurse. "Look, Mum's carried this with her for years. It's the first Valentine's that she ever had. So sad, but she treasured it so much. She carried it all around the world. It's so old it's nearly disintegrating."

* * * *

Billy was in trouble. Perhaps Billy was trouble.

Julia had to leave, suddenly. Her boyfriend had upset some lads from London and they were not to be ignored. There were stories of what these people would do with an electric drill and a pair of wire cutters. The thought made her want to vomit.

She had heard that their victims had holes in their hands and their faces. There was no time to waste, not even to wait for her love. There was a good chance that they had already found him and it could be her next.

She packed a rucksack with some spare clothes, whatever cash she had and her passport. With a sudden impulse she threw in a harmonica and ran out of the door, leaving that part of her life behind.

As she sat on the bus soon after she passed a building site. There was a new road being built, a motorway that would soon bring workers into the city from the new towns that were being built. Massive concrete foundations were being constructed but she had seen such things before in another country. It brought back bad memories and she looked away.

* * * *

Weee! This was going to be exciting. A fairground ride with a difference.

Julia loved the thrill rides, had always joined the queues for the highest, the fastest, the most exciting of them. This was unlike anything that she had been on before though.

She was now naked in front of two strangers. She was torn between being shy of her exposed body and being proud of her breasts that were on display. One of the people was a plump middle-aged woman with curly hair, flabby arms and who smelled of stale tobacco. But she was a professional, she had been accustomed to being undressed.

The other was a man. He was slim, with grease in his hair. She had seen adverts in the back pages of the newspapers for pots of hair cream that men thought would make them look dashing. She thought it was disgusting. It would come off onto her hand in an embrace, she was sure. She might give him a jiggle, see what happened.

She tried to shimmy her shoulders so that her chest would wobble but hardly anything happened. Just a slight sway of her tits that he didn't even seem to notice.

She had been placed into a sling seat and now a crane was lifting her into the air. There was water below and she was to be launched with a huge splash. This would be fun, why weren't more fairground rides made like this? She could feel her nipples tingling at the thought.

The seat began to descend. There was something wrong, it was too slow. She rocked, trying to break it free from what was holding it back. It should go much faster, come on!

Finally her feet entered the water. It was warm, not the cold shock she had expected. Eventually her bottom was immersed and finally her stomach. Only her breasts remained in the cool air. Now the fat woman was soaping her hair and rubbing a sponge over her skin. This was very disappointing.

Afterwards she was lifted back out of the water and rubbed with towels. What was the point of all that?

* * * *

Her mother was pretty, everyone said so. Jolie was proud to have such a beautiful mum with blonde curly hair and smiling eyes.

Except when the Russians were mentioned of course. Then she never smiled, she hissed under her breath and then hugged her with tears in her eyes.

It was night-time and Julia was wearing her best winter coat although the weather was mild. They were walking in the dark, her mother carrying a brown suitcase.

A soldier was challenging them, talking quietly to her mother. Her mother was frightened, she could tell. Then she knelt down in the damp grass whilst the soldier was getting his pee-pee out. Then her mum was inspecting it, holding it, then she was licking it. Julia was astonished, she had never seen anything so rude in her life.

It grew bigger and stuck out stiffly like a thick, pink bratwurst. Then her mum was sliding her lips along it, taking it right into her mouth. Eew. That was gross, unbelievable.

Then her mum was drinking something and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. It looked like she was drinking his wee, which was the strangest thing ever.

The soldier leaned against a wall and fastened his trousers. Her mum grabbed the suitcase and they began to run.

"Joli, quickly!" Her mother's voice as they dashed across the long grass, cold and wet against her legs. "You must escape! Run away!"

* * * *

It was evening and the day was over. The meal had been rubbish; no ice-cream to be seen. Instead she had been fed with smoked fish, which she hated especially when it repeated on her. She gave a little burp and shuddered at the taste.

Then sliced banana -- a simple banana ruined. Everyone should know that it should be peeled and just eaten. That seemed to sum up the cooks in this place; they could spoil water.

Then, all too early it was time for bed. A man came into her room, he had nasty greasy hair like he had fallen out of one of those adverts in the back of the papers. He removed her top clothes, then looked straight at her breasts.

She felt her nipples stiffen with the attention, she always revelled in the gaze of a young man, even one who was shorter than her, did not have rippling muscles and a broad chest. Then the man felt underneath and lifted her breast to his lips. She felt his warm tongue against her skin, his breath cool above. Then just as she desired, his tongue met one of her two most sensitive spots.

She had no idea who the man was, but he was wearing the sort of tunic that male nurses wore so that was probably his job. That meant that he wasn't technically a stranger, she reasoned.

He sucked on her, pulling her nipple out to full extent. All too soon the man released her breast and pulled her nightie over her head to cover her. She would dream of that contact tonight, but in the meantime she hummed a tune that was in her head.

You'd say I'm putting you on
But it's no joke, it's doing me harm
You know I can't sleep, I've cancelled my brain
You know it's three weeks, I'm going insane
You know I'd give you everything I've got
for a little peace of mind

She knew it was supposed to be 'I can't stop my brain', but the crackling record player made it difficult to hear and she preferred 'cancelled'.

* * * *

A line from a bawdy mnemonic that she had learned in school ran through her mind. "Haughty Henry Licked Bridget Bardot's Cunt. No Other Fucker Needed Nancy's Minge. Alarmingly Silly Peter Stimulated Clara's Aromatic, Kinky Clit".

It was the elements of the periodic table and automatically she translated it just as she had done so a thousand times. 'Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium Beryllium Boron Carbon...'

The hours that she'd spent learning that -- all the way up to potassium and calcium, and for what purpose? She couldn't recall ever needing to know about boron and beryllium. Not even once. But it proved one thing at least -- that her chemistry teacher had been totally awesome.

The television was on and she was sat right in front of it. The volume was too loud and a man with a bad tan and a worse wig was yelling about the prizes to be won by a fat woman who had been dragged from an audience.

Julia decided that it was too much effort to try to remember what came after calcium, so she switched from school chemistry lessons to better times. Picking fruit; now that was a fun memory.

She had met up with a few other travellers whilst island-hopping across the Indian Ocean. She had been camping on a beach whilst waiting for the rusting ferry to take her to the next island on her journey, this evening there were several other youngsters sitting on the beach around a tiny bonfire, talking and singing songs whilst a lad strummed a guitar.

Someone had suggested that there was a strawberry farm where workers were needed, so she decided to earn some cash for a few days. Later they had arrived and had been put to work straight away stooping under a hot sun.

The fields were vast, the weather was warm and the lads all removed their shirts. They were all good looking and well-muscled through manual labour and surfing the ocean waves. Rippling bellies, biceps and tans. The sun bleached their hair and burnished their backs.

They had called her 'B'. Or perhaps it was 'Bea', short for Beatrice. But that wasn't her name. It was Julia. It used to be Jolie, but now she was called Julia because it was easier for the people to say and she fitted in better with it. She mustn't stand out, that was dangerous. It was now instinctive for her to hide in a crowd, blend in with the others and be inconspicuous.

The farmer came around occasionally with food and drink but there were no proper rest breaks. If you filled the baskets you got paid, if you sat down and stared into space you didn't. It was a simple equation -- much simpler than the chemistry ones - and the workers kept going until it was dark.

One day Julia found herself to be the only girl working the fields. The lads were all shirtless, wearing shorts or ripped-off jeans. They were all looking quite fuckable with tight butts and narrow waists and she had a quick fantasy about being bent over the back of the tractor trailer, being screwed by each of the guys in turn.

She wandered across to a remote part of the field until the others were barely within sight. Not quite sure what she wanted to do with the privacy, she noticed that her shirt was damp with sweat. Ensuring that the others were distant, she pulled off her shirt and tucked it into her belt.

Immediately the breeze on her skin cooled her, so she kept the shirt off all day while she worked in her underwear. Her bra was white and lacy and modest enough however it was becoming stained with sweat. That night she tried to wash it in the bathroom but the hard soap and cold water did not make this easy.

The next day she looked in the filthy cracked mirror in the accommodation and noticed that she had white tan lines developing. She left the soggy bra behind and just pulled a yellow T shirt on, tight over her breasts. The guys were quiet on the short Land Rover ride to the field and there were sideways glances at her. Julia felt her nipples tingle.

Whilst it was good to blend with a crowd, it was more flattering to have all these male eyes on her body. Afterwards when she was alone in the field once more she removed the shirt again. The warm sun and wind were now on flesh that was not accustomed to it.