7 comments/ 18850 views/ 2 favorites A Vice Admiral's Wife By: joulie Part 1. It was a muggy summer evening; we girls were enjoying a pleasant after dinner drink on the balcony of a rather smart hotel overlooking the river Dart. Conversation was jovial and took the usual saucy turn amid our giggling and laughter. We were in full flow, when a very elegant looking lady, complete with a large gin & tonic approached us and asked if she could join us. An Introduction to Able Seaman Miller. I have to admit at this point, she was somewhat more than a little tiddly. A smile all round indicated that no one objected. Her hat, she had obviously been at some sort of function, was decidedly askew. She took her place among us before raising her glass to indicate to the waiter that she wanted attention. None of the rest of us had that sort of confidence. "A round of drinks, on my account young man." "Quite so madam," the young waiter acknowledged. Once all was settled, the lady introduced herself. "My name is (with my formal title) Lady Virginia Frances Nicasov-Kwic." That was a surprise, a real 'Lady', wanting to join our 'elite' group. But hey ho, we are all girls together aren't we? And what a name, there was promise of a few stories there! "Rather an unusual name dear." I suggested. "Which part of it?" She sipped her G & T "Well, all of it, why not introduce yourself?" "OK." She cleared her throat. "Of course, at prep school I was simply Virginia Frances Bellend. You know how children shorten names, I was inevitabluble nick named Virgin Fanny!" We giggled at the pronunciation of inevitably; clearly she was not on her first g & t! "When I moved to public school, I won't say which one, Virgin Fanny followed me. I can reassure you, the Fanny may have remained for all the years of my education. In my pleasure, the Virgin was lost along with my virginity. That however may be a story for another time." We nodded, spell bound. "As for my surname... what can I say? I was so fortunate to meet and marry, the then Captain, and now after various promotions, Vice Admiral Sir Raymond 'Ripper' Nicasov-Kwic probably the only guy I could hope to meet that would equal my appetite for sex." "A typical sailor, when he was home, and as he progressed it was more and more, I usually had sufficient sex to keep my vagina adequately lubricated with the best cream." The temptation for me was also in the naval life. As an admiral, living in 'quarters' we had 'staff', watch keeper, stewards, and defaulters, the task of attending us, supplementing our regular civilian staff for chores and dinner help when needed. Strictly speaking, it was considered inappropriate for Senior Officer's wives to fraternise with other ranks. That of course didn't take account of the needs of the woman, the temptation presented by the varied selection of presentable young sailors or even the 'harmless' flirting. All of which were inclined to undermine the division of 'status' which primarily existed in the 'public face'. Sailors, of every rank and nationality travel the world enjoying the cultures throughout. Social occasions abound and I am sure there are few serving men who don't enjoy the flavours of the ports of call. Their wives of course, twiddle their fingers and dispel the boredom in whatever manner they choose. Personally, I enjoy my gin, and whatever other diversion I can think of some are more than a little naughty. And, I do have some very naughty thoughts. Like for instance sailors, also called seamen, and do I ever, ever, ever love semen? My old man, 'The Old Man' as his officer colleagues called him when they weren't using his less respectful nick name , 'Ripper', is, how should one say this, well blessed or more candidly, he has, in the vernacular, a big dick. When he was home, and was not otherwise occupied, I was very well serviced. Trust me, there is little more satisfying than good fornication with a big penis and I was...satisfied...regularly. My problem reared its head when Ripper wasn't available to provide the service. Not necessarily when he was aboard, sometimes he had to work in the MOD in London for weeks at a time. I call it a problem, but it wasn't really a problem, I was just randy and in need of satisfaction. It wasn't of course a 'one off' situation and I cannot believe that Ripper thought for one moment that I didn't satisfy my urges when he was absent. There have been a number of sailors who really should have been grateful to Ripper for their privileges. I really did let my hair down at times. When the term defaulters was used in my hearing, my blood raced, bits of me, use your imagination, became engorged, and lust filled my heart. Defaulters were the sinners, perpetrators of minor misdemeanours, and they came to clean vehicles, do the garden, sometimes overnight so that there was a presence in the house. Dusty was a particular favourite of mine, and at least twice every time Ripper was up at the MOD, Dusty was on defaulters, usually night watches. Able Seaman Miller, always minor punishments, which both he and I thoroughly enjoyed. If you get my meaning. I first met dusty one July evening; I was in a first floor room, gin and tonic in my hand this one having been preceded by several gin and tonics. It was a fairly normal evening and the events were not in the least unusual. First, there was the rhythmic tread of a marching squad, then, the crunch of the gravel as the half dozen defaulters in the charge of a petty officer wheeled into the drive way and were brought to the halt at the gate to the servants quarters. (Back door to the kitchen actually) "Miller" barked the Petty Officer. "Aye" responded Miller "This house will be safe under your watchful eye Miller for the next three nights. Everything you need you will find in the watch cabin." "Stand fast the rest. Miller fall out." Miller duly fell out, and was posted to his night watch, the remainder being marched off by the Petty Officer, their measured rhythmic crunching steps on the gravel fading until they no longer disturbed the evening quiet. Miller glanced up to my window as he turned to take post. The watch keeper's cabin was on the ground floor of the Admiralty Senior Officer's quarters, at the back of the kitchen and the steward's pantry. Miller would be the only male on site after the day staff had left. It would be Miller's duty to ensure my safety, the security of the building, and to provide incidental services such as supplying me with coffee or refreshments should I so desire. The steward, Jenkins, provided a brief tour of the house and the kitchen, the cold store, coffee facilities and his night refreshments. The watch cabin was small, cosy and functional, containing a bed, table, chair, television and telephone connected to the base's main switchboard. On the wall was a bell, with which the watch keeper could be summoned. During the steward's tour, Miller, in square rig but hat less was introduced to me. "Madam, your defaulter for the next few nights, Able Seaman Miller." Miller came smartly to attention. "What Do I call you Miller?" "Dusty, Madam if you wish." "Dusty will do, I think every Miller in the navy is called Dusty, doesn't need much imagination to know why does it?" "No Madam." Dusty smiled. It was a very seductive smile I might add. They departed and all was quiet again. I lolled into my easy chair with a gin and switched on the radio, some classical concert somewhere, filled the air with swelling strings. The heavy front door slammed shut and the keys rattled in the lock. The steward called goodnight and the backdoor closed noisily and again the sound of the keys then silence descended again and the music sparkled in the air. These nights could become very boring, and even lonely, no-one but myself for company. I rang the bell. I knew it would take a few minutes for there to be any response. There was a light tap at the door. "Come!" The door opened and Dusty stepped smartly in. "Yes m'am." "Pot of coffee Dusty please?" "Aye ma'am." He disappeared once more to return after about a quarter of an hour bearing a silver salver with coffee, cream, sugar and crockery. "Only one cup Dusty? You will need to get used to me, two cups at this time of night if you don't mind. Deploy and secure another please." "Aye m'am." Again he disappeared, returning with the second cup. "Thanks Dusty, now pour the coffee, you do drink coffee don't you." "Yes m'am, thank you m'am." Obviously, Dusty had been made aware of his punishment duty as he was clearly in his Number1s. Immaculately pressed and brushed right down to well pressed bell bottom trousers complete with seven crisp horizontal creases. "Take a seat Dusty, relax." He took a seat on the opposite side of the plush carpet from where I was seated on the brocade upholstered chaise. "No Dusty, over here, I want to talk and I don't wish to shout." He joined me. "Is the house secure?" "All locked up m'am." "Married Dusty?" "No m'am, foot loose and fancy free, typical Jack." He smiled that seductive smile. "I'm married you know." "Yes m'am." "Do you know my husband?" "I have seen him, but I don't know him personally. Ripper isn't it?" "Well, Vice Admiral Sir Raymond Nicasov-Kwic." "That isn't what he's called on the lower decks." "Which is?" "I'd rather not say m'am, it's not very respectful." "Go ahead, I want to know." "It's old 'rip her knickers off quick' m'am." I laughed out loud. Dusty, unnaturally for a man of his calling, blushed. "It's a play on words, his name, m'am." "Yes, yes, I understand Dusty; I have lived with the name for long enough." We sat for a few minutes with our coffee. "Do you know my name Dusty?" "No m'am." "Virginia Frances Nicasov-Kwic nee Bellend." Dusty choked on his coffee spraying it into the air. "Bellend? Bellend? Are you serious? "I too have had nick names; can you guess what they were?" He shook his head. "I wouldn't dare!" "Virgin Fanny." "Oh fucking hell. I thought Bellend was bad enough, but Virgin Fanny..." "What's wrong with Bellend?" "Don't you know? It's what they call the knob on the end of a blokes cock." "Oh is it and what about the rest of it?" "Well, let's face it, you don't find many virgin fanny's around naval establishments." "That's fine, because mine isn't anyway, that is long gone. Would you say, Dusty that you were capable of absolute discretion?" "I have signed the Official Secrets Act, does that cover." "Good Lord no, a far, far higher level of discretion than that is needed here." "I would promise to do my utmost to be as discrete as needs be, although I don't understand why it should be necessary." The whole situation was beginning to take on a quite definite humorous twist with the word fencing, hints and innuendo. I decided to be bold. "A woman, that's me, has needs. However, with the position her husband, that's the Admiral, is in, there is a need for total discretion. Do you understand he doesn't need to know of my little peccadilloes?" "Well m'am..." "Do call me, say, Ginny or Fanny, m'am can be very irritating." "Very good then, Fanny, if you were to entertain callers when I was duty watch, I could exercise Nelson's eye, and see no ships." "There wouldn't be any callers." "I see. Well in that case I wouldn't know about any peccadilloes." "Its like this Dusty, I am a resourceful woman, I satisfy my requirements within the house." "You, Fanny are losing me; I know absolutely nothing about peccadilloes or any other sort of dilloes for that matter." "I can see I shall have to spell things out a little more clearly." "That might be a very good idea Fanny." "One question, why Fanny, why not Ginny?" "I just like Fanny." "Herm. Typical sailor, never met one that didn't." "Yes m'am." "You, Dusty are a moderately presentable looking guy, ok, a bit on the short side but not unduly so." "And?" "The utmost discretion Dusty." "Of course." "Among your duties, there is the requirement to provide incidental services. That is a phrase I had inserted to cover things other than sandwiches and coffee, but it did rely on the absolute discretion of the posted watch keeper. I have selected the defaulters posted, carefully, but until you, Able Seaman Dusty Miller, I haven't felt confident to address the matter." "I really am confused now." "Come on man! Catch on. You like Fanny.... I like...?" "It almost sounds as if you are suggesting..." "Quite right, quite right, the incidental services are of a sexual nature." "Fucking hell." "Absolute discretion!" "Fucking hell." Dusty was totally stunned...I could tell! His phraseology left something to be desired. "What was your misdemeanour?" "It wasn't much." "And your punishment?" "Three nights on Captains defaulters seemed a bit over the top." "I hope, that your lack of height is not reflected in any reduction in dimensions anywhere else on your body?" "No m'am." "The practicalities. You will be called, on each occasion that you are on watch by the Steward in the watch cabin, and you will turn to at your regular work station at the correct time. You will sign the duty book as 'all quiet- no untoward incidents'. You will have retired to the watch cabin prior to the reveille call at 06.00. Should we meet beyond these doors we will not recognise one another," "And what happens between the Steward leaving and me being called by the Steward?" "Between those times, you will attend to my every need, and I do mean every need. If you have finished your coffee, let's see how you go with a shoulder and neck massage." Sailors in general, are not easily un-nerved, but the suggestion appeared to catch Dusty off guard, and his hand was definitely shaking enough to rattle his coffee cup and saucer as he placed it on the low table before us. It would be quite wrong for me to tell you how soft his hands were, any of you with any sort of manual work experience will now that it makes for hard skin, what I will tell you however is how gentle his touch was. Magic does not come close to describing it. The heels of his hands rested on the back of my neck as he started to work, bringing his fingers around to stroke my throat, he moved his thumbs, up behind my ears as his hands went about their business, I had never thought of that as an erogenous zone, but his touch there was electric. He moved on to stroke and caress my shoulders, circling with his hands over the silk of my blouse. I moaned. "You like that?" "Uuuum yes," I whispered. "It may be even nicer if my hands were on your skin instead of your blouse." Yes, I thought, you are probably right. "You must do whatever you think Dusty, so long as I carry no marks." "Very good Fanny." The low back of the Chaise allowed me to snuggle back against him, I was sure that I could feel at least the beginnings of an erection. His hand continued, slowly circling about my shoulders, then down the front of my blouse, soothing, stroking, brushing, out over my bosom, with just the suggestion of a fondle in passing, again, I couldn't help but allow a moan to escape my throat, before returning once again to my shoulders to continuing his slow circling. This time when I leaned back, it was to feel his erection growing within the confines of his trousers. His hand repeated their former journey from my shoulders to my waist, this time inside the silken protection of my blouse. As they passed my bosom, I was firmly squeezed, my nipples tingling within the silk brassier which contained the creamy mounds of my breasts. Returning up my body again he spread his hands and passed each up at the side, pausing just long enough to brush the sides of my breasts, a touch which could even have been accidental it was so light. I cannot deny the touch thrilled me. Over my shoulders and round again, his lips touched my hair as his hands travelled once again down my body, this time thrusting into my silk brassier, each smooth creamy breast firmly squeezed each tingling stiffened nipple crushed in his rough palms. It was unavoidable the thrills coursing through me were moistening my vitals. I luxuriated in the sensations his touch was generating, I had selected Dusty quite carefully, and I was not disappointed. Coarse as his hands were, his touch was unbelievably tender, and I might add effective. I moaned, and strove to move my breasts within his hands. The strain that his hands and my struggling to maximise my pleasure, my head thrown back recognised the pleasure Dusty was reaping, had an inevitable consequence, my brassier paid the price for my mammary pleasure when it finally burst exposing my breasts to his fondling and lustful gaze. My blouse, lay open and the remnants of my brassier hanging to the sides, my creamy breasts tingling, engorged, flushed with a rosy hue and so in need of being suckled. As I wriggled in my seat, they wobbled gently. "I think," Said Dusty, "You must have tension in your legs; maybe I should massage them for you." "That would be a very good idea." My silk skirt was several inches below knee level and covered me modestly; I certainly could not have worn it to accompany Ripper to dinner aboard any of the vessels we had periodically to visit. Both the ladders for boarding and the wind when either aboard his barge or whilst gaining the deck of the host ship would have afforded the on looking crew a view of next weeks laundry which would not have been appropriate for an Admiral's wife. I do have to say however that the next time I took a risk with my underwear would not be the first. Dusty lifted each foot in turn and carefully removed my heeled shoes. When going shipboard it was not appropriate to wear high heels, because of the possible damage to the wooden decks and the possibilities of slipping on the steel decks. He caressed each calf, from knee to ankle, the fine fabric snagging on his coarse skinned hands. Why, oh why did I feel so excited as his hand disappeared and re-appeared beneath my skirt? I just knew that silk had been the ideal fabric to choose for this adventure. Dusty's steel grey eyes caught mine and held my gaze before sliding down my torso to lust upon my breasts. He licked his lips, looked into my eyes again and with another lick of the lips leaned forward to suckle first on one and then the other nipple, skilfully flicking his tongue around each in turn. I wasn't directing Dusty's attentions, however his every move seemed to meet my needs exactly. Had I long tutored him myself I could have asked for no more skill in meeting my needs. As he suckled, his hands continued to caress my legs, my heels resting on his thighs, my ankles, calves, knees and thighs were all within his compass. At the top of his movement along my thighs his hands touched the silky gusset of my French knickers my skirt and under slip both riding up over his wrist. He made no contact nor indeed did he attempt to make contact with my vulva the closest was his hands touching my knickers. Each suspender was detached from my fully fashioned seamed nylon stocking and the stocking slid like gossamer down my long legs. Till both ankles were swathed in the sheer tan fabric. "Now, I can ease the tension in your legs without risk of laddering your stockings, they look so good on your legs it would be wrong to spoil them." I sighed, his touch exquisite, as he gently squeezed and stroked my calves. At the top of the stroke, the inner surfaces of my knees warmed to his caress and parted expectantly, hoping that he would intrude further upon my person. Dusty was not to be rushed, he was controlling the pace of the activity which I had construed. The pace I might add was in itself a stimulus, teasing and tantalising. A Vice Admiral's Wife Ch. 02 Part 2. Further Adventures with Able Seaman Miller. Following on from the first three day trial of Dusty Miller as the Admiral's Residence watch keeper, I was able to persuade Ripper, that of all the defaulters that had been trialled as watch keepers the ideal in every sense had been Able Seaman Miller. Of course it was far from ideal that Miller should have to be a defaulter in order to be able to fulfil the role, it would not have been good for his service record. A few words whispered in Ripper's ear when his mind was in fact, sorry, when his body was in fact otherwise engaged, yes, between my thighs, resulted in Admiral Sir Raymond (Ripper) Nicasov-kwic having a quiet word with the Master at Arms, the result of which was that Able Seaman Dusty Miller was assigned the post Special Duty, (Residence Watch Keeper). Every evening he arrived with the duty watch as the watch were marched in and posted to their various duties. That is, until such time as the watch cabin was extended at which time the watch keeper was messed at the residence. At that time the watch keeper became messed at the residence there was a slight change in the duties and personal driver (local) was added. The Government Car Service provided the service when the Admiral was away. The local car was available for my personal use. When Ripper was at home, we saw nothing of Dusty except for his necessary and regular duties at other times... At other times, when Ripper was involved with his official duties, at the M.O.D. or aboard ship either in the UK or overseas he was generally not at home, and I made good use of the watch keeper. HMS Alfresco was along side and Captain Dickson was holding a reception and dinner aboard. As Senior Officer in the area, Ripper and I were to be guests. I personally could have lived with out that sort of engagement. As a formal mess dinner, The Admiral was in full dress uniform, with sword, I was in a mid blue Brocade full length gown not too tight, moderately low cut and strapless, worn over a new corselette, fully fashioned nylon stockings and with a contrasting white satin cape. Dusty, in his number 1s delivered us to the pier. The Admiral was piped aboard. Dusty stood by my side until the formalities were over when I took my place with my husband on the Quarter Deck. Dusty was asked to wait, quite usual, and as soon as we had cleared the Quarter Deck he parked the car and made his way on board for leisurely refreshment until required to return us to the residence. The meal was well prepared and immaculately served, the company was passable, except for the fact that it was all male. This not being the ship's home port there were no other wives and the conversation inevitable turned to matters nautical, and while sometimes that is tolerable, the tedious talk and the ribald humour wore very thin quite quickly. Not helped I may add by a distinct lack of the essentials over the past few days. I excused myself and spoke to Ripper, crying that old favourite, migraine. He immediately sent for Dusty, and I was ushered to the car by a sick berth attendant with a couple of aspirins. I told the attendant that I would take them when I got to the Residence. He left me in Dusty's care. The car moved swiftly from the dockside and into the darkened dockyard... "Dusty, Dusty,..." "Fanny?" "Are there any quiet corners you know where we could park for a bit of peace for a few minutes?" Dusty didn't answer but a few minutes later the car slid silently to a stop in a darkened corner. "Do you want to sit quietly Fanny?" "No, a little fresh air would be the order of the day I think." "Very good." Dusty opened the door and took my hand as I stepped out. I took his arm as I got my bearings in the darkness. I shivered in the chill night air. "A hug would perhaps warm me." I suggested. "You told me we should not know one another outside of the residence." "Are there many about round here at this time?" "No, the Shore Patrol won't pass until midnight." "Then please do my bidding, hug me." He took me in his arms, and I sought his lips, hugging him close. His hands, softer now, having been a while on the lighter duties started to caress me. My buttocks were squeezed then he sneaked his hands between us to reach up and fondle my breasts. He teased the creamy flesh above the bodice of the gown, then pulled the fabric down to expose my now naked breasts. The fabric was so firm I concluded that a brassier would be unnecessary. He lowered his head and suckled upon them, teasing the nipples with his tongue but releasing them to enjoy a pleasing fondle, his manual dexterity left little to be desired. My loins ached for the satisfaction of copulation. I was pleased therefore when I felt my gown being lifted. Slowly bit by bit the gown and my under slip were shimmied up my body, his hands gently easing it to my knees. My thighs would willingly have parted had the gown been full enough, as it was I could but savour the movement of the fabric as it slithered up along them. Once well above my knees, he slipped his hand between my stockinged thighs his hand travelled upward to be greeted by the moist warmth of my soft curls. Pressed back against the brick wall I willed him to open my furrow with his fingers, to engage my tingling clitoris and excite me further. I had divested myself of my knickers in the heads, prior to excusing myself. He did not disappoint, delivering the best cure for a migraine that I am aware of with his finger tips. My lips mashed hard on his as my tongue speared his mouth, the retaliation created a fencing duel within our conjoined mouths. Pressed as I was against the brickwork I was well supported and well able to extract the satisfaction I desired first from his furrow ploughing finger and there after his rigidity. I reached down between us, pulled up his tight navy jumper and unbuttoned the sides of his trouser flap, groping within his under shorts I found and grasped his erection, coaxing it from its protection. As I did that, his lips were once again teasing my erect nipples. I was moist, very moist, and with a distinct ache in my vitals. The answer was standing in my hand. Reaching under my bottom Dusty lifted me, I spread my legs then tucked them round behind his waist. I guided my torpedo home and relaxed down onto it, savouring the sensation of the glans parting my lips before sliding deep into me. Pressing me hard back against the wall, I locked my ankles together then we sympathetically rocked gently together. Just sufficient movement to create the pistoning I needed to reap the harvest of a satisfying orgasmic copulation and I may add a very effective cure for the migraine...what migraine? My mind, probably fed by the earlier generous intake of alcohol, was already sensually stimulated to a high level, and it took very little movement to trigger the orgasm, which was of great benefit, as my naked buttocks were rasping against the coarse brick wall. "Dusty, let me down." He lifted me, without hesitation, his penis came clear of my orifice, my stringy secretions decorating his appendage. I brought my legs together my gown slithered back down my legs, I had need to raise it again to brush the grit from the wall from my backside and again the gown fell down my legs. Dusty meanwhile had encased his weapon within his uniform. Taking a quick look around to check that the coast was clear, Dusty opened the vehicle door and handed me in. Quickly and almost silently we drove off, a short way from our tryst the vehicle lights were illuminated and we continued to the residence without further ado. I remained in the vehicle until the house had been opened and illuminated, whereupon Dusty opened the door and handed me out of the vehicle. As I mounted the steps, I could feel the tops of my thighs sticky and cooling with the results of my earlier pleasure. Dusty parked up the car and came into the entrance hall of as the telephone trilled. Dusty answered. "Admiral's residence. Watch keeper speaking" There was a pause. "Very good sir, I will report to madam." Dusty hung up. "Ripper is going to sleep aboard tonight madam. I have to pick him up at 08.30." "Oh! Madam is it?" He laughed. "Unzip my gown please." He did so, not needing to be asked twice. Such an obliging Seaman. "Now my slip." The waist slip was soon swathed about my ankles. I steadied myself by holding his shoulder while I stepped out of the encircling fabric. I now stood, at the foot of the staircase, clothed rather saucily in the open bottom roll-on seamed nylons and my heels. At least Dusty called the outfit saucy, I made a mental note to not dress that way if I was likely to be seen by Ripper! I reached out for the front of Dusty's trousers, yes, I confirmed there was still a substantial benefit to be had within his trousers, well, the benefit did depend on the weapon being extracted from the trousers a task well within my capabilities. My soft auburn curls, greasy with my own earlier orgasmic juices, were now peeping curiously from beneath my roll-on almost beckoning him, tempting him to once again invade my person. Still he did not. I unbuttoned his trousers flap and untied the waist restraint, allowing his trousers to fall. He stepped from them, turned them and as was his habit, folded them into their creases, before depositing them on the bottom stair. His undershorts were also removed and deposited with the trousers. There was something a little incongruous to see him standing naked to the waist except for his navy socks and deck slippers whilst above the waist he was still clad in his number 1s. I turned toward the staircase, and bent over exposing myself crudely to him. "Take me Dusty, take me, finish the task we started earlier." I wasn't to hunger for much longer, as he burrowed between my cheeks with his swollen glans, I reached down and guided it home. The knob, using the grease generated earlier eased between my lips, a pause, a thrust, he was to the hilt inside me. Holding my hips to stabilise the activity he started thrusting, each powerful thrust pushing me forward each push forward took me one step further up the stairs. Each step up withdrew his weapon from its sheath leaving me wanting until the next thrust refilled my cavity as he also moved up a step at a time. Sixteen steps, sixteen thrusts, as we climbed the stairs, that girls is an experience to enjoy if you ever get the chance. It does however take quite a bit of co --operation. My position was decidedly undignified, my hands on the floor and my backside in the air, with Dusty's weapon being the anchor point. Slowly, he propelled me towards my bedroom on my hands as he supported my hips while I waddled stiff legged with his pin remaining in position. He very nearly slipped from me when he leaned over my back to open the bedroom door. I was propelled toward the bed which when reached I placed my hands on. Oh god, the sensations that penis raised in me, were out of this world. Dusty again supported me as I raised one knee to rest on the bed. Whereupon we copulated vigorously, his thrusts lifting me clear of the bed as they stimulated my insides. Of course, with the for runner of the partially, at least for Dusty, completed upright copulation, the stair climbing form of foreplay and now the high energy thrusting, this copulation was going to be fairly short lived. Short lived indeed, short lived but very satisfying as a terrific orgasm hit 'the' spot as Dusty erupted and spewed his semen deep within me. I was asleep when Dusty quietly took his leave of my bed to return to the watch cabin. I was asleep when at about nine o'clock Ripper came into the room and woke me. First a Kiss. That woke me. The tray of tea which the steward had brought in was cold on the bedside cabinet. "Good morning Ginny, are you feeling better?" "Good morning darling, I had a good sleep, the migraine was bad, but once dusty got me settled with a warm drink things started to improve and I slept till you woke me." "I think I was inspired when I decided to get Able Seaman Miller assigned as a regular Watch keeper. Yes, I was inspired, good chap, good chap... reliable." I could barely conceal a smile as I thought of the manipulation I had put in to achieve that 'inspired decision'. "He is sooo helpful, and as you say, reliable, I don't think I would have felt as safe with anyone else." "I fly to Malta this evening so you be good, won't you. Any problems, I am sure Dusty can resolve it. There is lunch at the mess, a meeting this afternoon and I fly out in the first Dog watch." I pouted, hiding the lust for Dusty giving me a flutter in my tummy. "Ooooh do you have to? I am going to miss you, how long must you be away?" "Only about a fortnight this time sweetie. Now be a good girl and get yourself moving, the steward needs to pack my bag." I dressed in a robe and went down to the dining room, the steward brought me breakfast I was so stupidly excited at the thought of a fortnight with just Dusty for company, my lower areas damp, my stomach in turmoil, I could eat very little. The morning dragged on, and on, the minutes ticking slowly by until at last the car drew up at the door. Suddenly it was hectic, the steward hurrying with Ripper's bags, and his dress uniforms and hat box. (For ceremonial he had to wear a bi-corn hat.) Ripper hurried from the office, I was in the hall way, a fervent kiss, as he donned his cap, and through the door to the car, the door slammed and the car pulled away. I called the steward and asked that he inform Dusty that I would require the car in the afternoon. I know you will think this silly, I went up and to the bathroom and into the shower, I was so worked up by the previous evenings entertainment, and the anticipation of the next fortnights promise that I couldn't avoid it, I just had to. My own fingers fumbling in my furrow was not as exciting as when Dusty ploughed the same furrow, my clitoris was stimulated as I closed my eyes and fiddled with my little bud, trying to feel Dusty doing it for me. Soaping myself, stimulating myself the shower cascading down over me. Orgasm was achieved, not as promptly as when the same activity was conducted by my Able Seaman but almost as enjoyable. Sharp at 14.00 Dusty presented the car at the front door, announced himself to the steward and waited in the car. I was ready at 14.30, the door was opened for me. "I will be dining out Jenkins, so no need for dinner, can you advise cook, and I will not be needing you or cook, you may secure when all is fine." "Very good madam. We will see you in the morning." "Thank you Jenkins." The barrier at the gate was raised as we approached and the car was briefly halted as I was recognised then waved on. Speeding away from the base... "Where to madam?" "Up to the moors, I need some fresh air. Oh... and I left madam behind at the residence." "Very good Fanny." "That's more like it." We sped up onto the moors, through the narrow lanes, the hedges brushing the sides of the car. The lanes were deserted, the warm sun made for a delightful trip. Atop the moor, it took Dusty a very short order to locate a secluded gully in which the car ...and us would be concealed from the casual passer by. We were of course soon accommodated and the thoughtful Dusty retrieved a rug and a couple of cushions from the boot, to lay on the mossy ground. Following Ripper's departure, I had anticipated our outing, and dressed accordingly. I selected a very nice floral cotton day dress. A front buttoned bodice, with low square neck line and a wide flared skirt. Yes I wore stockings, and suspenders, and I really do like wearing French knickers, they let a breath of air reach those parts which are so easily overheated. I quite felt like a naughty virgin again. Although of course, that part of the fantasy was purely, if such can be pure, fantasy. Dusty, gently handed me from the car, and took me in his arms, a hug, so close, which I rewarded with a kiss so passionate that there was no way that he could mistake my intention. He lead me to the rug, then lowered me to it, the warm gentle heather scented breeze caressed the very spot I hoped he would shortly be caressing. I lay back, resting my head on the cushion, my knees bent and parted, I relished the breeze as it cooled my moistening curls. Lying beside me Dusty drew me into his arms, our mouths engaged and we kissed again, long and lingering, our tongues fencing, exploring the innermost reaches of that succulent orifice. Satisfying as kisses can be, I was hungry for far more than kisses. While the kisses lingered, Dusty's hands did not. The buttons of my bodice surrendered eagerly to his nimble fingers. My brassier clad breasts benefitted from the breeze, warm as it was it still stimulated the erectile nerves in my nipples, which strained against their delicate cover. It wasn't long before Dusty's industrious fingers released my breasts from captivity they were free for just a brief time before his lips captured the nipples. I sighed with the longing, for the sensation of ecstasy, for the urgent want for this my lover. The pleasure of his tongue as it swirled relentlessly about my nipples, combined with his manual stimulation of my breasts, and the chill from the breeze as his mouth left the wet nipple drove me headlong into a crashing orgasm. I squeezed my thighs together, to increase the pleasure as I rode it out. My breasts were laid bare, exposed to the warm afternoon sun in this sheltered suntrap, my nipples, damp from the suckling were sustained erect by the chill of the light breeze which eddied about the gully. Dusty relaxed as he held my hand and rolled onto his back, his jumper rolled up to his waist exposed the bulge in his trousers which suggested rather rudely to me that he too could appreciate a little attention. Should I deny him? No, I think not. We rolled together again, this time his hand sought my knee. He caressed my stockinged leg, knee to thigh and onward in his march to conquest. I shuddered in anticipation as his hand crossed the thickened top of the stocking and I thrilled at his touch on my naked thigh above. I meanwhile reached for his trousers and undid the side buttons, I untied the waist strap, and pealed the sides away exposing his undershorts. While his hand was busied itself beneath my skirts, my hand found mischief within his shorts. His erection was as solid as I had known it. Much to my pleasure. As he invaded my knickers and commenced fingering my furrow, I seized his rampant penis by the root and by pulling it clear of his shorts, exposed his glorious glans to the light of day. My mouth watered, I licked my lips in anticipation then ducked my head to engulf it. My lips puckered as in a kiss, I snaked out my tongue and teased the eye of this turgid weapon. Dusty started to tug at my covering garment, rather unsuccessfully, I wanted to be rid of the knickers as much as he wanted to free me from them, so leaving his erection I turned to assist him. He knelt between my legs, his penis standing proud as if watching the proceedings, he reached down and once more assailed my undergarment. I raised my bottom permitting him to free the part trapped beneath me, as he moved them up towards my knee he stood, my legs resting on his torso he took the garment to my ankle and thence removed them, casting them onto the mossy grass. He gripped my ankles and spread my legs wide, my auburn curls, and my recently finger ploughed furrow exposed obscenely to his gaze. I should have been, I suppose, affronted at this assault on my dignity, but no, my lust was driven to new heights. A Vice Admiral's Wife Ch. 02 We returned to our position on the rug, each stimulating the other's appropriate parts each aware at the others need. I needed penetration, as the moments passed my need intensified until I could wait no longer. I rolled Dusty onto his back, his erection firmly grasped in my hand, then on my knees I straddled him. My breasts were bobbing gently in the breeze as I moved, my skirt falling down over us, concealing both Dusty's hips and mine. Rudely, I thought, Dusty lifted my skirt front to confront his erect penis snuggling in my curls. I knocked his hand away... "Naughty, naughty." I smiled tipping my head back and shaking out my hair. He dropped the skirt front and tucking his hands behind his head, lay back resting his head on a tussock, eyes closed and a huge smile on his face. I eased myself, and reaching beneath the skirt, gripped his penis and guided it to where I wanted it. I gently greased his glans with my lubrication, and nestled it between my lips, a wriggle, and a little downward pressure and I was impaled upon his weapon. The glans parting the sides of my vagina like an orange being inserted into a sock. Down I pressed, until my mons made contact with his pubic bone, then Dusty again peeped under the skirt and again I knocked his hand away to conceal the activity. This will surprise you girls, the though that passed through my mind at this very moment harked back to mother and school days. "The pony club." She said I hated the pony club. "You learn to ride my girl, you'll thank me one day." She said." I didn't believe her. At this moment, in the saddle of this particular pony, I raised my eyes to the heavens and just thought, 'thank you mother'! In that moment, those many years of punishment came to the fore and my pelvis started the natural action. I rode, and rode, and the huge grin on Dusty's face grew broader and broader my pleasure increased with every move I made, my clitoris stimulated by the abrasive action of his coarse dark curls on it. The stimulation was intense as forward and back I rocked upon this saddle horn. Rising and falling in rhythmic delight. I started to count the orgasms as I worked them through, my mind was however on a higher or some would say lower plane as I abused Dusty's erection. The pleasures my vagina sucked from him were so, so delicious. Dusty, for his part took advantage of my distraction, first by lifting my skirt and watching his penis appearing and disappearing as I rose and fell upon it. Then he intruded on my reverie, working his hand down between us to assault my clitoris with his talented finger. The sensation of orgasm is often described as waves on shore, rockets, fireworks, when Dusty touched my clitoris, I wasn't expecting the touch and the orgasm boiled over with ALL of those sensations. I collapsed on Dusty's chest he taking the opportunity to fondle my breasts while I imposed upon his lips for osculatory satisfaction to complete my orgasmic delight. Together we rolled, finishing when I was on my back still pinioned with Dusty's trusty spear. His thumbs flicking across my nipples took over where his fondling had finished. He gradually started thrusting, as my orgasm faded, gently, gently, slow and long deep thrusts, I responded raising my hips to meet his downward thrust. Almost imperceptibly his pace started to increase until my very being was being shocked by the impact of his thrusts. It couldn't last long, these frenzied copulations rarely do, as with few murmured words of warning he blasted jet after hot jet of his semen deep into my vagina. Those blasts triggered in me a further very intense orgasm, this time the more satisfying by the ability to seal it with our lips. The final thrust of his loins as the ejaculation started took him so deeply into me that I am convinced that my cervix was being assaulted and drenched with the semen. It was a full seven or eight minutes until Dusty, my trusty steed started to relax, the tension in his final thrusts ebbing from him, and indeed from me. As he relaxed of course he became semi flaccid, and eventually his penis slipped from me drooling along my thigh. Then he rolled off to lay beside me on our rug clad mossy couch, we lay gazing at the sky, Dusty naked from the waist down, the breeze freshening his cooled ardour, although at this point there was little evidence of the freshening. Personally I was dishabille, my bodice lay open, my breasts exposed to the sky. From the second copulation my skirt was cast above my waist so plenty of air for the mare, the resultant lubrication and ejaculate drying in the air. We lay there, savouring the moment, watching the clouds scudding across the sky, enjoying the sensation of the fresh air and the gentle breeze from the moor on our bodies. Refreshing, cooling, soporific, we dozed, eventually becoming alert, we cuddled and enjoyed, well, I enjoyed the luxurious comfort I felt in Dusty's arms. His hand sought first my breasts as we kissed, tongues fencing, the passion building. Then to both his favourite and mine, to finger the furrow concealed beneath my auburn curls. Little time was spent on the niceties of prolonged fore play, and with no apology we were soon engaged in another fast and furious copulation, the common place missionary position exposed his hairy backside to the freshening breeze which also cooled my own moist orifice as it surrendered to the invasion. Simultaneously we achieved a satisfying orgasm, and rolling apart, we again dozed, it was almost dusk when we woke. Dressing, we ensured we were decent, we dined at a small pub on the moor, for all intents, just another Able seaman and his lady friend or, because I had wedding ring, his wife dining out. We returned to the residence, at about ten pm, the house in darkness, a night drink, then bed, more athletics, sleep overtaking us only being disturbed by the five am alarm for Dusty to return to the watch cabin. A Vice Admiral's Wife Ch. 03 I was fortunate, my goodness was I? A whole two weeks without Ripper...in the care of Able Seaman Dusty Miller. The day Ripper left for Malta, Dusty had provided an excellent service to me on the moors and now, each waking moment was spent considering how best to use the Watch Keeper. My vulva was barely dry, always lubricated in anticipation. The morning was particularly gorgeous when my next adventure, well the one I am going to tell you about anyway, occurred. I was at breakfast, Jenkins the Steward was serving me, I eat sparsely most of the time because when dining with Ripper, officially, the meals were what could be termed substantial. "Jenkins?" "Yes Madam." "Would you be so kind, send for the Watch Keeper please?" "Certainly Madam, do you require the car?" "No Jenkins, not for the moment." "Very good Madam." Jenkins departed and shortly Able Seaman Miller arrived dressed in his eights, (working dress) with a large sponge in his hand. "What are you doing Miller?" "Cleaning the car Madam." "Do you sail Miller?" "Occasionally Madam." "Can you handle a dinghy?" "Certainly Madam, do you wish to sail today?" "Well, it is a lovely day, and I think its ideal." "Quite right Madam, would you like me to book a dinghy?" "Not necessary, I will contact the jetty and get them to prepare Ripper's boat." "What time do you require me madam and what dress of the day?" "Ten o'clock, and boating rig. Make that casual if you like." "Very well Madam." "Dismiss." He turned and left. "Jenkins." "Madam?" "Can you provide me with a bag meal for two, bottle of white and a coffee flask please, for ten o'clock." "Very well Madam." Ten o'clock and Dusty was at the door with the car, and typical 'Jack Tar' off duty, very smart, very tiddly. Jenkins was in the hall with the bag meals etc in a small hamper which he handed to Dusty to stow in the car. It was a short drive to the jetty, a few formalities, and Dusty stowed our clothing and meals in the dinghy as I was gaining clearance. There were certain benefits to being Ripper's wife today I was cashing in. I was given the movement orders for vessels in the area. Dusty set the sail, I cast off the bow line, and very nearly came to grief as the boat moved away from the jetty, I almost split my difference and just managed to get my right leg into the boat as we started moving away from civilisation. The boat was rocking a bit as well as surging forward, so in Dusty's words, I have been learning a few of his more coarse terms, aren't they erotic, I landed on my arse in the bottom of the boat. My legs of course were everywhere, the only reason he was not looking at my vul sorry, pussy was the thin strip of fabric which formed the gusset of my cotton shorts. Recovering my balance, I managed to perch myself on a seat in the bow. It was a lovely feeling of freedom, the breeze blowing through my hair cooling my face, and my midriff, I unbuttoned my blouse then tugged the tie at the waist, allowing the garment to blow in the wind. Dusty, on the helm, was smiling broadly... "More! More!" he shouted. What the hell, I thought, we are alone, there was no other vessel anywhere near us, so reaching behind I undid the clasp of my brassier and divested myself of the encumbrance. Now with my breas sorry tits exposed to the air the tingle started, my nipples stiff, I was feeling quite needy, it had been about a week since my visit to the moors with Dusty when I had a very fulfilling day's exercise. "Come Fanny, sit here." Dusty indicated a seat by his side. I moved down the boat, my tits, as I was not in the first flush of youth were swaying gently as I moved. I sat where Dusty had intended. "Where are we to go, or are we just to sail around?" "Ginger Mount Isle." "That's not on the tourist trail, no one ever goes there." "Exactly." We laughed together. We were close enough for Dusty to snake out his tongue and lick if not suck my nipples. That only served to increase my needs, I shuddered, the frisson of stimulation. I couldn't resist the urge to reach out and fondle the treasure enclosed within his shorts, a hand up the leg made the task less of a task than a pleasure. A naughty enjoyable pleasure. I suppose that we had been on the water about half an hour when we beached the dinghy on Ginger Mount the sudden stop as we hit the beach was sufficient to throw the two of us in a heap in the bottom of the boat, rattling the wine bottles. I was in no great rush to get out of the boat, I was quite happy with him nestled between my thighs, I engaged his lips, and made suggestive movements of my hips. We only stayed like that for a few minutes before he removed himself and assisted me from the boat. Two duffle bags and the hamper were disembarked, and between us we moved them off the beach, I lead the way, because I had been on Ginger Mount before, and I had a fair idea where to find the secret hollow. Dusty left me in the hollow and returned to the beach, it was essential that he secure the dinghy, we wouldn't be watching it and didn't want it to drift away. While he was gone, I rummaged in the bags and found the rug, which I spread on the ground in the secret hollow. The hollow was a decent size, the surround was somewhat higher than the middle part and between the middle and the sides there were numerous rock formations of varying sizes and arrangements. By the time Dusty returned I had cast off my upper garments and greeted him with bouncing tits, the freedom was delicious. Approaching me, I turned my back to him, he snuggled up to me his hands came round and cradled my tits, his thumbs teasing my erect nipples. I shivered, I could feel his hardness against my shorts, attempting to snuggle between my buttocks. I leaned my head back alongside of Dusty's, turning slightly to kiss him. I could but sigh as I savoured the sensations his hands engendered in me, positioned as we were it was not possible to kiss fully and was therefore far from satisfactory. I turned in his arms, my tits pressed to his still covered chest, and now, to my great pleasure his cock was pressed against my mons and belly. We kissed deeply, deeply, tongues engaged in tonsil tickling fencing each trying to spear the other. Slowly we sank to our knees, the mouth contact not breaking, I, wrestling his shirt from his body to cast it aside on the soft sand. My tits enjoying the coarse rasping of his chest hair to tease them to even further stiffness. We rolled onto our side, fondling, groping, kissing tongue fencing, Dusty's hands were more than active. I too had needs, firstly to touch him, to demonstrate in that touch the affection I had developed for this sturdy Able Seaman and then to sate my lust for him. Freeing my arms from their entrapment between us, I worked them down his muscular form till I reached the top of his shorts. We did not cease our osculations as I rolled him onto his back, well not until that is, that I climbed onto the tops of his thighs. I leaned down to dangle my tits near his mouth in the hope that the hint, the offer to suckle would not be missed, while I busied my fingers to unbutton Dusty's shorts. I wasn't too disappointed, to the extent that the suckling distracted me from my intended task and it was a real effort to concentrate on revealing the weapon of choice for the up coming battle of the genitals. Dusty's fingers intruded up the leg of my shorts, striving no doubt to engage the furrow he had ploughed a few times in the past. Whilst he did get to the target area, the invasion was thwarted by the tight pair of briefs I was wearing, having considered that French knickers were unsuitable to wear under shorts. Climbing from him, I lay beside him, and took his weapon in my hand, he undid my shorts waist and delved within still the briefs defeated him and he failed to reach his, and my, objective. I stood, my shorts fell to my ankles and I stepped from them. I was clad now in a pair of transparent nylon briefs which certainly displayed my auburn curls yet protected the vital furrow. His hand grasped the waistband of the briefs and made a little space, suddenly the briefs were invaded, the curls parted and the furrow teased open. On an instant, I orgasmed one almighty shudder coursed through me, a simple touch to that vital part had formed the overture to the early matinee performance. Panting I rolled away, his finger left me and as I lifted my hips to help, he stole my protection away throwing the nylon briefs towards a nearby rock. As I lay recovering from my first ecstasy of today's encounters, the first of several I hoped, Dusty opened the hamper and selected the first of our bottles of red. We both drank deeply from the bottle, ignoring the provided glasses, it felt so decadent. Both my upbringing and my station in the service as an Admiral's wife demanded a rather higher level of behaviour than I admit I was displaying here. Dusty burped noisily and lay back on the rug I tried to emulate his burp and almost threw up, god how embarrassing, then joined him on the rug. It was so relaxing, listening to the waves lapping on the beach the gulls whirling, shrieking overhead the few light clouds drifting across the otherwise clear blue sky. Dusty moved a little closer and slipped his arm around my shoulders, he brushed my ear with his lips, stopping to nibble on the lobes. I shivered. He moved on kissing and licking down under my chin and along my throat. From my throat, his lips caressed down over my warm sun kissed chest until he reached and kissed my tits. "We must protect these delicate little nibbles." He sucked the nearest nipple into his mouth and nibbled, whilst fondling the other and tweeking its nipple. Have you ever noticed ladies that when a gentleman handles your goods, and you start to get, well, a little excited, a peculiar phenomenon takes place, it happens to me, when my tits are fondled, my hand is automatically drawn to the gentleman's appendage. I'm not complaining, I enjoy it, I just wonder, is it me or are you all the same. Anyway, back to the story. "So how do we 'protect' them?" His hand dropped to my knee. My naked knee I may add, as soon as he touched the inside of my knee, my legs parted...wide! "Like this." He slipped quietly between my legs and with his body shaded my 'delicate little nibbles'. Of course that placed Dusty's peni... sorry, cock in close contact with my curly auburn covering. That was somewhere that it could not remain, I slipped my hand between us, a wriggle, his cock was captured another wriggle and it was home. Before he had any chance of escape I locked my legs about him, and levered him full length into my vitals. It started as a gentle rocking, the pace increasing until my furrow was being vigorously ploughed. I matched Dusty thrust for thrust, every thrust was enjoyed both going in and coming out. Fifteen minutes of the most energetic f... sorry, copulation, I still can't say that word and it was delicious, absolutely delicious the conclusion flushing my innards with floods of semen. Jizz he called it, I didn't care what he called it, so long as I got it. His eruption triggered mine and there was a mingling of our juices When it was over, this orgasm I mean, I released him, eventually. He slackened within me, and when I moved, if you remain coupled for too long the juices get sticky and uncomfortable, he slithered from me, rolling off me onto the rug, his cock trailing wetly across my bare leg. We had beached the boat on a shallow sandy beach, a little further round, there was a lovely pool, sheltered and just like a large bath tub, deep enough to be able to stand and not too many creepy crawlies. We scrambled over the rocks and into the pool standing almost to our necks in the warm sea water. We hugged together, and his cock started to stir, poking at my sticky wet curls. We douched each other washing away the evidence of our recent abandon, the act of which was singularly stimulating and enjoyable. Washing a cock, and scrotum is unavoidably stimulating to both parties and I soon had a tight sac and a stiff cock in my hands, thank you Dusty. Equally industriously Dusty applied himself to cleansing my 'pussy' firstly flushing away the evidence of our copulation from my vagina then washing the 'shampoo' from my curls and the tops of my thighs. When all was clean, he lifted me in his strong arms and perched me high on one of the surrounding rocks. I eased back, just a little because there wasn't a great deal of space, and to be frank I didn't feel that secure in my seat. Dusty parted my knees and stepped between them draping my legs over his shoulders. Moving forward he placed a thumb on either side of my 'pussy' and eased my curls apart before burying his tongue between my lips. It took just a few moments I am sure for him to discover the hard nub of my clitoris, but once found he chastised it with a tongue lashing the likes of which neither it nor I had ever experienced. The result was inevitable, a crashing orgasm of immeasurable proportions which itself had an inevitable result, as it hit, I bucked my hips, my head went back with a sharp crack against the rock, which resulted in me slipping from my seat, the thrust of which put Dusty off balance sending him backwards. My legs over his shoulders meant that I was pulled away from the pool side to receive a ducking as we both sank beneath the surface to disconnect and resurface coughing and spluttering into the sunlight. Dusty climbed from the pool, and reaching down assisted me in gaining access to dry land. To be honest even that was to prove somewhat hazardous as his now erect cock threatened to spear my face. We did however manage and lay back on out rug laughing. If I had a flag, probably an ensign, or even the Admirals pennant, I could have flown it, heck Dusty had a flag pole to die for. It looked cute, I was so tempted to kiss it, what am I saying I 'was' tempted? In truth, it looked cute so I gave way to the temptation to kiss it. The kiss of course was just the start, it was followed by a little nibble of the tip of the cock, well, it couldn't stop there of course and I was soon indulging in full blown fellatio. My fist around the cock, sliding up and down, my mouth encapsulating its head and me sucking like I don't know what, ok, a vacuum cleaner. I got into the motion of it and found my natural instinct was to move up and down on it, then Dusty started raising his hips to meet the movement of my head. My hand was stroking his cock, my mouth bobbing up and down sucking and Dusty, I suddenly realised, was using my face as he did with my pussy. Previous experience of Dusty's staying power, our copulations being long and vigorous, I was then totally caught by surprise when, in very short order, he hurled his semen down my throat. I am proud to say that despite the surprise of delivery and the volume of his ejaculate, I spilled not a drop of the creamy offering. I feel that in my fellating, I re-paid the phenomenal service which I had received at the tip of Dusty's tongue in the pool, without the attempted drowning. As his discharge subsided, I released him and valeted his member so as not to waste any of his semen, the flavour was out of this world. Following a few more drinks, we consumed both bottles of red, still without soiling the glasses, and the appetite we had worked on since arriving helped in the disposal of the packed lunches and a doze was the order of the day. When we woke, it must have been an hour or so later, Dusty professed the need to urinate, and disappeared behind a rock. I followed, as I had a need too... "Something you aren't able to do aye?" Dusty teased. "What's that?" "Stand beside me and pee." So I stepped to his side, parted my curls and peed, standing. "Bravo Fanny, Bravo!" "Never under estimate the education available at a ladies college." I laughed. He shook his cock and I shimmied to dislodge my last drips. Before we retired to our rug, I awoke with a hunger as well as a need for a pee. I lead him by the cock, which thickened as we moved and reached almost full erection as we sank down onto the rug. I his hands went to my tits and commenced squeezing and caressing, whilst his lips engaged mine and the tongue wrestling started. I for my part started stroking his cock, long, squeezing strokes, terminating with a rub of my thumb over the cock head, I knew that was an appreciated tease. I was wet with anticipation as he touched my thigh, mentally I was begging for his cock to intrude upon my person. I spread my legs, and trembled with expectation of the touch which I knew would develop my excitement. Dusty ran his palm down over my springy auburn protection, before extending his middle finger and sneaking beneath the curls. I really did enjoy the sensation of the finger inside my private part, almost as much, but not quite as much as I enjoyed a cock in the same part. I renewed my assault on Dusty's lips. Our ardour increased at quite a rapid pace until inevitably, Dusty's leg came across mine as he started to mount me. I closed my legs, holding his hand in me. "Please, the other way." "Which way?" I released his hand and turned onto my knees. "Oh, I see, you want back scuttling." I turned my back to him and he came close behind me. I reached down between my thighs and grasped his cock. I placed the head between my pussy lips. "Take me." I invited, "Fuck me." Suddenly that word seemed to be the right one. He took me at my word, and proceeded to service me in a proper seaman like manner. While his cock was reaming deep into me his hands came round to the front of me, the left to fondle my breast and tease my nipple while the right engaged with the other essential, my clitoris. The copulation took to a little while, I braced myself with my arms as each thrust into my pussy attempted to propel me forward. All too soon I could feel my crescendo approaching, I attempted to convey the same to Dusty, the words were lost in a simultaneous orgasmic event. I threw my head back, forcing my breast hard into Dusty's hand, and contracting my pelvic muscles gripped and held his cock. He had to have no escape. I truly needed to savour every last drop of his 'Jizz' as it mingled with my own orgasmic fluids. At last he started to slip from me, I collapsed forward to the rug, with Dusty on top of me, his wet, slippery cock nestled between my buttocks. We lay together sweating and panting. My pussy was drooling our combined fluids wetting my inner thighs. The sand was permeating the fabric of the rug and sticking to our sweaty slimy bodies. A dip in the pool and another sex ridden washing session, with the associated groping, fondling and fingering brought us to the end of our outing, and having dried ourselves, Dusty donned his shorts, and we cast our bags and other goods into the dinghy for the return trip. Together we pushed the boat from the beach and climbed in. I was still naked as Dusty laughing told me that the wind had dropped. He was right, it had. Fortunately we had the oars, so we weren't altogether stuck. For most of the time as we were heading back to the jetty, I sat in the stern, I was sure it was encouraging for Dusty not to focus on how far he had to row, but rather on my naked pussy. As we neared the jetty I dressed, blouse, no brassier, and a pair of slacks that I had slipped into my bag. While Dusty removed our bags and the hamper to the car, I signed the dinghy back in. We drove up onto the moor for a meal at The Jolly Sailor, then a leisurely return to the residence. I thanked Dusty and dismissed him, although his cock was always a welcome diversion, I had been well satisfied, and a night's sleep was an essential. The sleep was only coloured by dreams, dreams of boats, islands, dancing cocks and volcanic eruptions, such sweet dreams. A Vice Admiral's Wife Yes, I had taken a couple of glasses of wine earlier, but not sufficient to dull the sense of excitement as I was sure he was building to a climax. Although I had observed, or rather felt on the occasions I had leaned back against him, and could now see before me that Dusty was himself stimulated by the situation, an erection in the tight uniform trousers was an impossibility to conceal, he showed no impatience or urgency in carrying out his task. Eventually, of course, his hands strayed and he started his work above the knee, my thighs tingling in anticipation of his every move. Every pressing stroke of caress terminated within a half inch of the gusset of my knickers, within half an inch of my vulva, a gusset becoming more damp and a vulva becoming decidedly wetter as the activity progressed. I am sure that he could not have missed the shivers which ran through my body as from time to time I orgasmed as he was almost touched my vitals, of course at this point he had still not actually made contact. Girls, I don't know if you have ever anticipated a touch without it actually happening but the anticipation of the touch being sufficient to provide the orgasm, that was the state I was in. I didn't want to spoil the drive to completion by trying to rush things, however, although the orgasms of anticipation were enjoyable they were not delivering the satisfaction I desired. "Dusty, I believe the time has come to find somewhere a little more comfortable don't you." "You may be right, where do you suggest?" he stood, endeavouring to pull his jumper down to cover his, now well developed erection, which was attempting to emphasise its dimensions despite the tightness of his uniform. "The guest bedroom I think would be favourite." He scooped me up in his muscular arms my legs resting upon the coarse fabric of his uniform sleeves, the silk covering of my skirt having deserted them. My nipples favouring the touch of the cool cotton of his white front, the plaited cord lanyard and black silk in their differing textures stimulating my nipples as we moved from the lounge to the staircase, every tread of the stairs brought a fresh sensation, at least twice on that relatively short excursion I was rewarded with a ripple of orgasm. I had to take care not to unbalance myself or Dusty, It could have been embarrassing given my state of dishabille to have had to explain why I was injured and lying atop a fully dressed Able Seaman with my breasts on display, that is provided any tumble did not prove fatal. Reaching the guest room door, I very foolishly leaned down to open the door, mainly to avoid having to explain a dirty footmark on its pale cream paintwork. The inevitable result was a little bit embarrassing to say the least. Dusty was closest to my legs, I had released my hold about his neck, and reached down, I over balanced, landing on my hands, my breasts following gravity were aiming towards my chin. My legs in the air, held by Dusty, were exposed as the silk skirt and slip tumbled floor-wards, the French knickers, draping themselves about my hips with the damp gusset snuggled into my very moist personal area. Acting the gentleman he truly appeared to be, Dusty gently and carefully lowered me to the floor, then lifted me again and carried me to the bed. He shrugged me rather as he would have his kitbag, over his shoulder to free his hand and turn down the bed. The way he then deposited me upon the bed suggested rather more experience of dumping kit bags on a railway station platform or mess deck floor than placing a lady on her, not necessarily virtuous, bed. As I lay on the freshly laundered sheet, he came to me and started to unbutton the few that remained of my blouse buttons. Removing the blouse he suckled on my breasts, leaving each nipple standing as he moved on. "Don't you think you should remove your clothes?" I asked, looking straight into his steel grey eyes wherein the lie to his cool clinical approach was evident. Dusty removed his silk and lanyard, unzipped his jumper and tugged it off next his lucky blue collar, (away from the sea, ladies liked to touch a sailor's collar for "Good Luck") the one with three white bands to commemorate Nelson's great victories. I too reached out for my touch of luck, I was sincere in my wish for a filling reward. He stepped from his bellbottoms, turned them inside out and neatly folded them into their creases. He now stood before me clad in stockinged feet with his white front and under shorts. It was then I noticed the pusser's marking on the garments and discovered Dusty's proper name, each bore the legend Robert Miller and his service number. The white front followed the rest of the garments, exposing his hirsute chest, and was equally fastidiously folded before being added to the pile. The erection was nowhere to be seen, but I fancied that I could see his exposed purple glans peeping out from the leg of his under shorts, Without a though of any kind I was obliged to lick my lips as much to avoid dribbling my saliva onto the pillow. He returned to the task of divesting me of my outer garments, having relieved me of my blouse, he removed first my skirt and then my matching slip. I lay abed before him, my brassier about my chest, and the only garment still in its intended location was my French knickers, although, they were tucked firmly into my moist passage. Dusty excused himself and made use of the facility in the "en suite", whilst I took advantage of his absence to tease my knickers from their entrapment. The sounds emanating from the 'en suite' were both stimulating and disgustingly exciting, the sounds of both flatulence which caused me to descend into a hearty fit of the giggles as they echoed around the tiled suite, and the sounds of urination causing my own urethra to tingle as if I too needed to urinate but so sexually stimulating it almost caused involuntary orgasmic activity. He turned again to remove my previously discarded brassier, my breasts proudly now displayed to Dusty's almost lustful gaze. He dipped his head once again to suckle, stimulating each nipple with a very agile tongue. As he did so, I reached out and grasping his penis and testicles teased them a little before achieving the waistband of his under shorts to pull them down. I was defeated by myself really, my little teasing stimulated his penis and that stimulation resulted in a semi erection which impeded my attempts to remove his shorts. Eventually I was successful and his erection sprang into view as his shorts fell to the floor. Reaching out I grasped the shaft of the weapon before me, the bulbous, purple, bellend seeped a small quantity of pre-ejaculation lubrication. I carefully coaxed him into a position where I could take him into my mouth, I opened wide and engulfed his glans. Dusty was substantial, an adequate sufficiency, his quite reasonably sized glans suggested that the end result would be a very satisfactory copulation. I was pleased that fellatio was one of my accomplishments we each suckled the other to achieve satisfaction, I to be rewarded with a generous portion of superior naval discharge. His hand encircled each of my breasts in turn, caressing, teasing, oh, the sensations he generated. The fingers, tumbled gently over my nipples, tracing round the aureole, fingering back over the nipple and again round the aureole, I don't think my nipples had ever been as engorged or for that matter as sensitive. He once again applied his lips to my nipple, and suckled, I barely noticed the absence of his fingers, but they had deserted my breasts and were travelling down my body. Stealthily his hand slipped tenderly under the waist elastic of my French knickers. His hand crept further down over my belly teasing as it did so my navel. Moving on again the over my downy belly until at last he reached the tight auburn curls which adorned my mons. The outer lips were gently parted by his extended middle finger. There was no need for lubrication, my private parts were saturated with my slippery excretions. His fingers pushed between my outer labia and my knickers, easing the knickers free from my moistness. My outer lips surrendered to his finger as it traced the lubricious furrow from the front and down. My legs involuntarily parted at this touch facilitating his discovery of my welcoming vagina. His finger slipped easily into me up to the knuckles, to be withdrawn from there and drawn forward to seek out my eagerly awaiting clitoris. The merest touch on that sensitive protrusion triggered a vigorous orgasm. I could hardly wait for the act of fornication. The stimulation he wrought excited me in no mean way. He was most certainly well versed in the noble arts of foreplay. Slowly he eased himself down onto my cotton sheets, we were lying, kissing and caressing as we lay. Let me be blunt girls, I had a real need of that vertically inclined appendage. Ripper had been gone just about a week and my orifice needed fulfilment. Dusty my dear Able Seaman, all your Christmases were going to come together if I had my way. Dusty's coarse skinned hands were alive and active as they stroked over my pale skin. Over my breasts and down my body stroking and caressing, my thighs parted easily in response. His hands once again insinuated into my knickers, regaining the silken furrow he had previously invaded. He moved his hands to my buttocks squeezing and fondling as he strove to ease my knickers from me. I was now naked, the only covering of my dignity was that small patch of auburn curls. His leg came across me, pushing my knees apart. Our mouths locked together in osculation. His hands caressing me, squeezing my breasts, his penis solidly erect nestled within the forest of my auburn curls. Dusty's fingers parted the lips of my private area, then he intruded upon my vagina. Opened as he now had it, the orifice willingly accepted his steely erection. As it nestled between my outer lips and eased its way in, satisfaction swept over me in the form of a gushing orgasm. I wrapped my legs around him and levered him into me. Slowly he started to move within me, slowly and gently, gradually increasing the pace until, if you will excuse the expression we were copulating energetically. It was a little after midnight when Dusty and I reached the full plateau of simultaneous orgasm. Slowly, we descended, quietly cooling our ardour, his phallus becoming flaccid, and lolling with semen mixed with my secretions drooling from the bulbous head as it slipped from me. I guess we both dropped off to sleep, to be disturbed by the trill of the alarm. Squinting in the harsh light of the bedside lamp 04.00, I was shocked awake. Dusty yawned and threw his arm across me, seeking out and squeezing a breast. "Dusty, its 04.00, I thought we decided that 05.00 would give you plenty of time to get to the watch cabin before 06.00?" " Indeed dear Fanny, however, my thought was of you, a little problem has arisen which I felt I just had to share with you." It took but a moment for me to find, not so much what I would have called a problem, more a treat. He once again sported a steel hard erection. "This, Dusty really must be quick." Naked as we were, little effort was needed to ensure the entrance was accessible and equally little effort to ensure it was used to the full. Imaginatively on this particular occasion, Dusty employed one my favourite positions, we copulated fast and furiously in what is called in the vernacular doggy style, which I understand is much favoured by naval types though to be honest I cannot see why. There was very useful lubrication remaining from our previous copulation to reduce significantly the need for extended foreplay. The selected position was ideal for me, there was little need to expend energy as the activity was virtually totally provided by Dusty. I confess to appreciating the service provided whilst contributing little. I did however fully enjoy, albeit sleepily, my usual orgasm, which occurred at the very moment Dusty discharged. My next recollection, was at about 08.30 I was still on my knees with my derriere in the air albeit covered by the sheets, the position I had remained in following our mutual discharge and Dusty's departure for the watch cabin. The steward's knock had disturbed me. I explained my presence in the guest room, by explaining that there had been a problem with the master room's window which I hoped that either the watch keeper had resolved or had informed the dockyard mateys to resolve. The steward was satisfied with the explanation, and I was more than satisfied with my introduction to Able Seaman Miller. I was looking forward to further adventures with him.