Hi, folks! For some 16/17 years I was an Air Force man. During my service I was seconded quite a number of times to serve with the Army, the Navy and the Marines not only national but international Allied forces – and occasionally non-allied from Eastern Europe, Asia and other areas world-wide. This tale is fictional but does contain an element of truth as I found it. Hope you will enjoy reading it.
MANY PEOPLE ACQUAINTED with guys in the Navy have been known to wonder what sailors do to relieve their feelings when they've been out at sea for months at a time with no women around. At least, that was my experience before the fairer sex was allowed to put to sea operationally with the men a few years back. Life is probably much easier going today for the average Jack Tar than it was several years ago, despite an official `no touching' policy when at sea.
I expect I would find what I found then: most sailors are probably straight but, in reality, a fair number are at least `bi-curious' and willing to try anything once, if only to relieve their pent-up sexual needs. There really ain't much to do on a boat, save wander the passageways, jack off in the showers or in your rack, and flirt harmlessly with the other guys – but sometimes that can get a bit too serious, if you follow my drift. A bit of harmless philandering can soon get out of hand and you'll quickly find yourself dancin' the sailor's hornpipe!
I was on my second tour of sea duty and had been on board my ship for several months, cruising around the Med and enjoying long, lazy days sun bathing on deck whenever I got the chance. We also took in the occasional shore visit whenever we made port for refuelling or to pick up fresh rations. It was on one of these brief stopovers in Malta that a new guy arrived on board. His name was Cameron and he had been flown out to Valetta by the RAF to replace one of our crew who had been taken ill and was ordered back to Blighty (the UK, that is) for hospitalisation.
Cameron was not the first new guy to join the crew since I had been on board, but he kind of ended up as the target for lots of flirting and sexual innuendo. Maybe that was because of his film star looks. He was a hunky blond and sported an almost permanent all-over tan – yes, including his manly bits. It wasn't because anyone thought he was gay but it was considered to be hugely amusing to tell him it was John's turn with him tonight, or to warn him not to take a shower when Kev was in there, harmless stuff like that. Cameron never argued with our jibes, taking the ribbing in good part, realising that our crew was small in numbers and that everyone knew everyone else on board well enough for this joshing to be taken as innocent, albeit somewhat crude, fun.
A couple of the guys jokingly told Cameron that I gave serious' massages. They meant it to be taken in a lewd way but it happened to be true. It was a skill I had learnt before enlisting and it could provide me with a bona fide opportunity of getting in touch' with him. They were right, I did want him – badly – but they were wrong about my not attempting a grand seduction and eventually the day dawned when I got him.
We had been out to sea for way too long around the time the Gulf War kicked off and tensions on board were mounting rapidly. Suddenly, acrimonious altercations broke out amongst former buddies, where before there had been simple friendly banter. Life was becoming seriously alarming and we were all wondering what the chances were of us being involved in hostilities in some way. The odds seemed to be shortening almost hourly that we would soon be ordered down to the Gulf. As it was, the captain received orders direct from the MOD to turn the ship around and head for the closest friendly port at top speed for refuelling, pick up additional rations and, most ominous of all, additional ammunition. When the captain returned to the ship after receiving his orders ashore, he announced that we would have to remain in port for several days. Apart from a small watch remaining on board for security reasons, the rest of us would be given a spell of shore leave.
By now, I was horny as hell but also tired and wanting to go on the town for a bender, all at the same time. I had noticed before that there is nothing as horny as a boatload of sailors when they are facing the prospect of some life threatening action involving the use of live ammo. This usually happens during a major exercise but this time, however, we all knew we were facing real live wartime action. Most of us youngsters had never given a thought to what it would be like to be involved in a shooting war. You could probably have detected the testosterone from miles away!
To give everyone a fair shot at shore leave, the crew were divided into small groups; Cameron and I were lucky to be put together in the same group. When our turn for a spell of shore leave was called, I asked Cameron if he wanted to go and find a cheap hotel room, get drunk, get fucked and generally relax. Cameron said he was OK about it so we donned our walking out whites and hit town.
I had already taken the precaution of finding out where the better cheap places were from one of the more experienced guys on board who had some knowledge of the dockyard area of the town. Cameron and I soon found a medium size local hotel which appeared to be reasonably clean and quiet; it was definitely the sort of establishment where no questions would be asked. We checked in and paid for the room. I did not notice if Cameron had clocked the smirk on the desk clerk's face as he handed us the key to our room. Once inside, the first thing we did was to remove shoes, shorts and ties, lie back on the comfortable double bed and relax. It is a good feeling knowing you are not going to sleep on board, where drunken arseholes and security alerts wake you up at all hours.
There was not much to do in that room. The TV was already on and we found a greasy pack of cards in one of the bedside lockers along with the remains of a much-thumbed porn magazine. This had been left behind by some horny bastard who'd exercised his wrist giving himself a good time looking at the smutty pictures. Most of the pages were stuck together with dried jism. We decided on a few games of rummy to while away the time. We played for a while, until Cameron decided it was kind of hot and took off his shirt, revealing a bronzed and chiselled upper torso unspoilt by chest hair. There was only a light dusting of golden fuzz below his sternum and running in a thin line down the middle of his abdomen to his belly button and then southwards only to disappear beneath the waistband of his Y-fronts. Since that day, I have often wondered why it was so hot in that room. Had Cameron deliberately turned up the heat while I was taking a leak? I'll never know for sure but the jury was undecided on that.
However, I followed his example and we were now both down to our skimpies. Like I said before, I was horny as hell and I had a hard-on that was not going to quit until it had performed for England. I moaned to Cameron about how fucking horny I was but did not get much reaction, verbally or otherwise. But I was still horny!
Getting randier by the minute, I eventually started playing with my cock through my underpants. I made out I was doing it unconsciously, absent mindedly probing my leaking cock slit with a finger nail, causing a rapidly expanding patch of dampness to appear. Even this did not seem to grab his attention like it should or cause the positive reaction from him I was hoping for. I wanted to see his hard dick. I knew it would be a big hard one from what I had seen in the showers: he hung thick and low, his balls contained in a large hairy pouch. I did not really care for caution any more and pulled down the elastic waistband on my underpants to reveal my throbbing, leaking boner and stroked it a few times, emitting a low grunt as I did so. That got his attention real quick!
"What the fuck are you doing?" he snapped.
"Nothin'," I muttered innocently. We continued playing cards for a while longer and then I asked him if he wanted a massage. I had forgotten to stuff my rampant cock back into my Ys.
"OK," he said, glancing at my heavily pulsating manhood, "but I gotta take a leak first."
He swung off the bed and made his way to the bathroom. I did not know if he just wanted a massage or something more intimate but I was soon going to make it my business to find out!
When he got done taking a piss, he came out of the bathroom. I noticed right away that something was different: the pouch of his pants was a lot fuller. I was sitting on the floor between him and the bed and had a great view of his basket. I still wasn't certain, though. Maybe it just kind of relaxed when he took a leak. He got on to the bed again and stretched out on his stomach. "Let's go, matey", he said.
Needing no further urging, I got up, clambered on to the bed and sat astride Cameron's upper thighs, facing his head and making damn sure no part of me was in physical contact with his body. I did not want to scare him off just yet. At least, not before I'd had my evil way – or most of it – with him.
I began by slowly massaging his shoulders and back. After a while, having rubbed and kneaded everywhere I could reach from that position, I turned round to work on his butt and thighs. I did notice that he had cleverly positioned himself in such a way that his shrouded semi-tumescent cock lay between his legs, pointing towards his feet. I could not be sure, but I thought I detected the beginnings of a small damp patch where his cock slit ought to be.
I began by stroking and squeezing his firmly muscled buttocks through the thin white cotton of his underpants, continuing with the inside muscle of his strongly defined upper thighs. This, I thought, was my opportunity and I made damn sure to `accidentally' rub against his rapidly hardening cock. The first couple of times this happened, he didn't say anything, just gently moved his leg so that I had to reposition my hand. After the fourth or fifth attempt at touching him up, he complained about my hand straying and what the fuck did I think I was doing? This made me unsure of what he wanted but his cock was rigidly hard and beginning to leak copiously. There was no uncertainty now: the small damp patch I had initially detected was expanding rapidly into a sizeable area of considerable wetness. His dick was telling me a lot – and my own majestic manhood was reinforcing the message!
I was soon back at work on his buttocks, slipping one hand under the elastic waistband, my fingers gently stroking his warm naked flesh. This time he did not complain about my wandering digits and lay perfectly still as I continued to massage his butt cheeks. I was careful not to reach between them but I did take the opportunity to tickle his scrotum here and there. This went on for a short while, allowing him to become accustomed to the feel of a man's hand caressing his arse. Becoming bolder, I decided to concentrate my activity on one cheek, his right one, so I reached down the crack of his arse to get a better grip. He did not say anything nor did he try to move away so I made a point of delicately skimming the side of my hand across his rosebud. He still made no protest but could not quite manage to repress a low groan as I sneaked my pinkie into his hole and move it around a little. This was clearly going way beyond a regular massage.
My move met with no resistance and this told me that Cameron would soon be receptive to a more serious major assault on his manhood. Reaching between his legs, I grabbed his cock and put it in my mouth, although he was still wearing his underwear. At last, this provoked a reaction.
"Stop it!" he exclaimed.
"What?" My voice was muffled by the cotton-shrouded dick in my mouth, but Cameron gave no answer. Fuck, was I horny!
I raised my head, releasing his cock in the process and told him to roll over on to his back so that I could massage his front. He did not appear to be too keen on that idea and seemed to be self-conscious about displaying his rampant hard-on. Nudging him over, I proceeded to give his burnished, sculpted pecs a hard massage, not forgetting to pinch and twist his nipples while doing so. Each time I gave him an extra sharp jerk he groaned softly, deep in his throat. Keeping both hands firmly clamped to his chest, I started licking and nibbling his skin, gradually moving down to his mid-section. At this stage, I abandoned all pretence, pulling down his sodden underwear, swallowing his leaking, solid cock in one swift motion. That earned me a sudden intake of breath and a husky, "Oh, Jeez! That's good!"
He did not even try to give me a nudge to tell me to stop. I sent my tongue zipping around his cock head, dipping into his cock slit, savouring the sweet sticky saltiness of his flowing seminal juices. I loved sucking that boisterously rampant cock. I had wanted to do it for months: now it was in my mouth and it was marvellous. I continued sucking him until I detected he was starting to lose interest. I got off his cock and kissed him full on for the first time. He responded by thrusting his tongue into me and performing as if he had been doing nothing else since puberty.
I returned to his riotously throbbing equipment and really gave him major head. His reflexes kicked in and he began thrusting his impassioned cock meat down my throat as far as it would go, his rhythm getting faster and more frenzied with each thrust. I was becoming concerned that he might drop his load sooner than I had anticipated and decided it was time to cool things down a bit. There was something else he had that I wanted – and he was sitting on it!
We had both discarded our underpants by now and rolling Cameron over on to his belly, I grabbed both his buttocks, splitting his cheeks apart and putting my throbbing, aching cock between them and rubbing it up and down his arse crack a few times. I wanted him to experience the extraordinary sensation of feeling, for the first time, a fully distended male weapon searching for his secret entrance. Judging by his reaction, I need not have worried about unduly alarming him! However, before I could reach home base, there was one small problem to be overcome. I had no prepared for events reaching this stage so quickly and there was nothing around with which to lubricate him. I had no choice but to go down and lick in circles around his arsehole.
I knew it had to be great for him when he closed his eyes, moaned softly and tossed his head from side to side. His hands tensed as he clutched at the sheets, his fingers clenching and unclenching as lust built quickly in his groin. My lapping tongue got closer and closer and I started dabbing at his rosebud with the tip of my tongue. As I was toying with his hole he relaxed and I slipped my tongue inside just a little way, just far enough to wriggle it around. He kind of giggled and relaxed some more so I began to give him a serious tongue-fuck.
He was ready. I coaxed him up on to all fours with his arse raised in the air, positioning myself with my cock resting on his arse. I slowly worked the head of my dripping tool up and down his arse crack, letting him delight in the warm sensuous feeling of my cock on his arsehole.
After some minutes of this, I stopped the tease and cautiously pushed my cock head against his virginal(?) entrance. He simply thrust back against me, not to push me away but to try forcing my pulsating boner into his hole. I drove forward and relaxed, then pushed a little further. The head of my cock soon popped into him, with a sigh from me and a little yelp from him. I thrust and drew back until I was all the way in, my pubic hair scraping against his arse cheeks. He grunted deep in his throat as the friction caused by my thrusting cock warmed the inner lining of his arsehole. Once, he cried out that I was hurting him but I did not care.
I thrust harder and faster until, with a mighty roar and gush, I came deep into his gut. I came so much it backed up and began dribbling out of his arse but I did not stop. I was still horny, still hard and Cameron's butt was now well lubricated with my jism. I wanted Cameron to know what a truly hard man-to-man fuck was like, to experience the glorious agony of another man slamming his rampant, rutting sexual organ into the depths of your body, pulling roughly all the way out before plunging and probing ever deeper. As I smashed between Cameron's buttocks, you could hear the sweaty slap of flesh meeting flesh, my balls crushing against him as I thrust as deep as I could. The man beneath me groaned and thrashed around on the bed, loving the wild ride I was giving him.
When, at last, I was done I rolled Cameron over on to his back. I wanted to suck his cock some more. To my surprise I saw from the mess on the sheetgs that I had fucked the cum right out of him. No matter, I wanted that cock. It was still hard and oozing more pre-cum. I took it into my mouth and throat, all the way down to the root and thick undergrowth of pubic hair surrounding it. His dick was slick with cum which made it all the better. As I clamped around his thick shaft, he soon began moaning and I knew he could not be far from shooting his second load. I concentrated on his cock head, swirling my tongue around the ridge, up and down the underside, the tip of my tongue probing the viscous salinity of his cock slit. I felt him swell up, so down I went again all the way, contracting my throat muscles around his shaft as he squirted his load over my tonsils and down my throat. As he finished, I held some of his man-juice in my mouth and raised my head to meet his. Placing my cummy lips against his half-open mouth, I shared his cum with him in a long, lingering kiss.
Later, back on board our ship, he got me alone in one of the darkened passageways and made me promise not to hint to anyone about our `indiscretion'. He was worried that if it got out, his Navy career would be over. There was no problem with this as far as I was concerned – I did not want to be kicked out either. Nevertheless, Cameron and I got together several more times during that tour of the Gulf. I did have one or two tense moments when the guys jossed Cameron about watching out for himself in the shower if I was around; he would colour up and disappeaqr. I'd just grin lecherously and say to myself, "He's on watch tonight."
As I've told you earlier, there really is nothing much to do on a boat, save wander the passageways, jack off in the showers or your rack, and even flirt a little with the other guys. Just don't take the coquetry too far unless, like me, you intend dancin' the sailor's hornpipe!