43 comments/ 63178 views/ 2 favorites What Now, My Love? By: Ronnie Wachuka My thanks to RedHairedandFriendly for her suggestions and for keeping me from wandering too far afield. Preface by the author: Firstly; this story is fiction, please keep that fact in mind. The sex is also minimal. Second; have you read or heard of a similar story, if so, in my defense I plead that there is nothing new under the sun. Third; I have tried to use the broken English used by some of the characters to flavor the story. It is not meant to be disrespectful. Consider that the people in the story probably know several hundred words and phrases in dozens of languages that are not their own. Also consider that unlike English there are many languages that are spoken differently by men and women, ie; his and her versions. Finally, there will be phrases used such as mama-san that are not native to the language of the country, but that's the way it is in a port city, the languages get bastardized rather quickly. Because I was and am a sailor and like the marines; once a sailor, always a sailor, I will use words and phrases which may be unfamiliar to the reader. If so I will try to translate in parentheses. Lastly, I lived in a man's world (a world that women would characterize as testosterone challenged). There will be a lot of words used that would not be suitable for mixed company. Live with it 'cause that was my world and it sometimes spilled over into my personal life. On with the story. * My ship lay quietly in the waters of Long Beach Harbor as we waited for our squadron leader (Squad dog) to complete her approach to the pier and tie up. I am Matti Heikkinen, a 27 year old Chief Fire Control Technician in the US Navy. I was standing at my Sea Detail Station on the fantail (the back end) taking in the sight of the Squad Dog's approach and the huge crowd milling, laughing, and jumping about on the pier. The noise of the crowd all but drowned out the sound of the Navy band playing its collective hearts out to welcome us home again after a grueling seven month cruise to the Western Pacific (WesPac). Finally, the welcome sound of the Bosuns Pipe and the welcome and familiar, "Shift Colors," as the Ensign (flag) was lowered on the Bridge and the Ensign and Union Jack (fifty stars on a blue background) raised on the stern and bow flagstaffs. She was tied up and it was now our turn. The line handlers on the pier quickly moved across the pier to handle our lines as we made our approach. Shortly, all was made fast, colors shifted, the Officer of the Deck (OOD) moved his station from the bridge to the quarter deck, and our long cruise was at an end. All we could do now was wait for Liberty Call to go down, but that wouldn't happen until the custom's inspection was completed. Moving over to Mt. 53 (our aft twin 5" gun mount) I quickly removed several packages and my AWOL bag, and placed them next to the lifelines so I could scan the exuberant and almost chaotic crowd to see if I could spot my wife, son, aunt, and uncle. If you had a picture of me that day you'd have seen a young (well, fairly young) 5'7" 165 lb. Chief Petty Officer in his Summer white uniform, with mustache trimmed and glasses clean for a change. When I removed my hat to wipe the perspiration you would also notice that my head was shaved. Most of my body was darkly tanned thanks to hundreds of hours off of Viet Nam and in the Tonkin Gulf. I finally spotted my family. They'd seen me first as my wife, Beth, knew where to look for me. Uncle Ed and Aunt Sue looked fit and tanned, but when you live in Southern California tanned is a way of life. My six year old son, Gabe, was a sun-browned towhead with sky blue eyes that were the match of his mothers. Beth for her part was lovely in her light blue dress and white sandals, her dark brown hair reaching down her back almost touching the belt around her waist. For just an instant I found myself disturbed; her eyes didn't have that flashing look and her lips were not quite curled into that ecstatic grin I was used to, but the thought quickly passed. Once the brow's of the four destroyers in this division of Destroyer Squadron 23 were in place and secure, the dependents, relatives, and friends streamed aboard the ship of their choice searching for their loved ones. Ed, Sue, Beth, and Gabe quickly moved off the quarter deck after making their way up the brow. Ed grabbed my hand and shook it as he hugged me, Sue took her turn, and finally Beth had her arms around my waist and her lips on mine in a welcome home kiss and hug even as Gabe wrapped one arm tightly around my thigh and the other around his mothers. With my packages in Ed's and Sue's arms and my AWOL bag in Beth's and Gabe's hands I stood in front of the OOD, saluted, as I've done hundreds of times in what seemed like that many ports around the world, and spoke those words a lot of you will remember; "Request permission to go ashore sir." The young officer drew himself to attention, threw a parade ground salute, and with a grin replied, "Permission granted, Chief, see you in three weeks." He was also my division officer so he knew that I was off on leave. As I turned to salute the Ensign, a thought ran through my mind, My God; It's been forever since I've been able to take leave. My Commanding Officer (CO) had a favorite saying, "When my ship puts to sea my Chief Fire Controlman will be onboard it." Normally that wouldn't be a problem because we'd usually stand down over the Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years holidays so I'd get caught up on leave long overdue. Unfortunately I was fucked by the fickle finger of fate when the holidays rolled around last year and My Mark 1A computer and Mark 25 radar both laid down and died at the wrong time and in unison. By the time they were back on line the holidays were drawing to a close and it was time to get back to sea on operations again. At the end of our current WesPac cruise we'd departed Subic Bay, Philippines, heading for Yokosuka, Japan, and home. My Weapons Officer huddled with the CO and got him to agree that me and my snuffies who'd had to forego the holiday leave period would be able to take three weeks leave on arrival in Long Beach instead of the normal two, and since we were headed for Long Beach Naval Shipyard and a long overdue overhaul for four months after our thirty day stand down, the troopers and I would be able to take a couple of days leave here and there. The term snuffy might seem pejorative, but that was a term we used among ourselves (From the comic strip Barney Google and Snuffy Smith). It described us all, but some snuffies were just a little higher on the food chain. Clearing the pier we all climbed into Ed's Cadillac, and headed for home. On the way we stopped at The Colonels for dinner. When I saw Ed and Sue stagger out with buckets of chicken and fixings that would founder a team of horses, I turned to Beth and quipped; "We could place all that food on the mess decks, feed the whole damn crew, and still have left overs." She returned the quip with a wane smile. Following a feast that had us all stuffed to bursting, we sat around as everyone unwrapped the gifts that I'd brought back from WesPac: A hand tooled wallet and a silver engraved lighter for Ed, a Chinese teapot and cups for Sue, a pearl necklace and matching earrings for Beth, and a raft of toys for Gabe. There were more gifts still on the ship but I'd pick them up sometime during the week. About 7:00 Ed and Sue gathered Gabe and Gabe's AWOL bag of clothes and toys to take with them for the weekend. That may seem rather callous after being deployed for seven months but you have to understand the situation. Ed and and Sue were retired, childless, and lonesome, with our nearest relatives being over 2,500 miles away. They spoiled Gabe at every chance, but Beth and I had long since given up trying to slow them down or ease up. They lived in Torrance, Ca. a few miles NW of us and they had a trailer at Lake Elsinore down to the South of us. Their plan was to take Gabe home for the night, down to their trailer at Lake Elsinore Friday, to Disneyland on Sunday, and drop him off at school Monday morning. In other words they were going to spoil him rotten. After everyone left it was now our time. But it was a night without joy; pleasant, but the mind ripping joy of two people in love and finally re-united was absent. Her responses to my advances were timid, and when we lay together she was largely unresponsive. To all intents and purposes I was fucking a corpse: In Navy lingo during a conversation over the net; "A Big What the Fuck, Over?" Friday morning the shoe dropped! I was sitting on the sofa when Beth sat down next to me, took my hands tightly in hers, with her head down, refusing to look at me, and with the tears dripping on our hands, sobbed, "Honey, I'm pregnant." She threw her arms around me, buried her head in my chest, and in anguished howls of grief, screamed over and over again, "I'm sorry, forgive me," between sobs that sounded like a banshee wail. A Big What the Fuck indeed! Suddenly an old familiar and most unwelcome feeling washed over me. I saw red and I had a sudden urge to break things and hurt someone. I was literally seeing the world through a red haze and I had to get out of there before thought turned to deed. I'd thought that I'd left that dangerous and uncontrollable anger behind me years ago but it was back with a vengeance. Throwing her off of me I staggered to my feet and headed for the kitchen door. As I ran through the door, heading for the garage I shouted at the top of my voice, "That makes us almost even!" At last I was in my sanctuary. Slamming the door closed I picked up a wrench from the workbench and threw it against the wall with all of the strength I could muster as I began to scream, rant, and rave. I'd learned years ago when the red tide washed over me to get away from everyone and go lock myself up until the anger dissipated and before I did damage to someone. As I picked up another wrench to throw, a realization flashed through my mind like God's lightening bolt, "What did you say as you ran out the door," I queried myself aloud? "That makes us almost even," I muttered as realization flooded my mind. The red tide began to ebb, only to be replaced by a sadness and angst unlike anything I'd ever felt before. The feeling was so intense my legs gave way and I literally fell onto the seat of an old oak tavern chair next to the workbench. "Old son, between the two of you, you may have fucked up a good marriage," I said in a voice of sadness as I reached for my pipe to pack it and try to calm myself. Still talking to myself between puffs, I held a conversation to try to figure things out. "Think, you dumb son-of-a-bitch." "It's your mind and training that's kept you and your shipmates out of harms way, now use them, damn it." "Is Beth shacking up or is it a one-time thing?" "If she's shacking up it's over, period. End of sentence!" "If it's a onetime thing, how, where, why, and why did she fuck without a rubber? God Damn It!" "Do you love her enough to work it out?" "God Almighty, I love her with all my heart and soul, and 'till now she's been the rock I cling to!" "What about your own Fuck-Up?" It became clear that if we were going to save the marriage the decks would have to be completely cleared as we prepared to sail through some very stormy seas into the eye of our very own personal typhoon. As I headed back into the house a final thought ran through my mind; Thank God Gabe's with Aunt Sue and Uncle Ed, 'cause he don't need to be a witness to the grief that's about to come down. Stopping off in the kitchen I poured two cups of coffee and walked slowly into the living room. Reaching towards her with a cup I said, "Up old girl," and handed her a cup as she rose to a sitting position on the sofa with tears still running down her face. The "old girl" was a tease as Beth is a year older then me. I settled into my recliner and placed my cup on the end table next to me. After a few seconds I started to speak when I again felt the anger trying to free itself from the anger locker that I usually was able to keep locked and shut away. With all of my will and concentration I was able to lock it away again and was finally able to say, "Tell me everything, and I mean everything," in a voice that surprised me by its calmness. Dear reader, at this point I have to interject an explanation so that you understand the situation: Beth worked for the Naval Supply Facility on the base. She'd drop Gabe at the baby sitters just across from the school each morning and take the Terminal Island bus to the base, 'cause she refused to drive in the Long Beach/LA traffic. Each afternoon she'd catch the bus, pick Gabe up, and walk home. Beth's Story: Several months after Matti deployed I got friendly with a woman at work whose husband was also a chief in another Destroyer Squadron about to be deployed. It turned out Jane and her husband lived on the next street over from us. I was able to ride back and forth to work with Jane in her car, splitting gas expenses. About two months ago a series of Spring rain storms hit Southern California. An aside - If you lived there for any time you know exactly what I'm talking about. Rainstorm after rainstorm until the LA River is not just a trickle in its channel, it is a torrent of water overflowing the river banks and spilling into the catch basins alongside the riverbanks. . . Because of the storm the power to the supply facility went out when a power pole fell over and we were all told to go home. Jane and I decided to stop by the CPO Club until the rain hopefully subsided a little. We'd no more then sat down with our first drink when several old goats hit on us. After our second drink I found myself to be a little tidily and in need of a pee. On my return I found that Jane was gone. The rains hadn't subsided and I did the second stupidest thing I could possibly do. I had my third drink. I know I can't handle booze and why I took that third drink I'll never know because after three drinks I get very horny as Matti knows full well. In short order I was sitting with a chief and drinking my forth drink of that disastrous afternoon. He offered to drive me to the bus stop at the main gate as he was headed out to town. Next thing I knew I was flat on my back in a motel up the street from the base, my legs were spread, and this stranger was pumping his peter deep inside my pussy. I was instantly sober and trying to get him off of me, but my exertions caused him to cum, and fill my pussy with his fluids. Silently I dressed, left the motel room, caught a cab to pick up Gabe, and go home. That evening Jane called to beg me to cover for her as she had voluntarily done the same thing I'd done in my drunken stupor. As I hung up the phone I quickly crossed Jane off of my list of friends. I spent the rest of the night showering, douching, praying, and crying. Unfortunately it was all to no avail as I missed my next period. A week before Matti was to return I missed my second period. By now I was in terror. I didn't dare go to the base Dispensary or the Naval hospital. I went to a doctor in the civilian community who confirmed that I was indeed pregnant. I couldn't abort. My religion forbid it. Ruefully I smiled, because it also forbids the act that had caused all of this turmoil. Would Matti kill me? I knew his temper when he was pushed too hard. Would he divorce me? Would he hopefully find it in his heart to forgive me? The days until Matti's return were filled with work, the evenings with taking care of Gabe, and the nights with terror and tears. When Matti came home, what should have been a joyous night of love making, and renewal became a night of rejection as Matti emptied his cum into me with no participation on my part. I was a cum vessel with no emotion whatever and he knew it. After my love fell into a troubled sleep I chastised myself. It was bad enough that I'd cheated on him, now I was rejecting him. If this kept up, regardless of the baby in my belly, we were surely headed for divorce court. Until my dying day I'll never forget the pain, the horror, regret, and other emotions coursing through my mind and body as I sat next to him this morning and uttered the words I'd rather have cut my tongue out then to have pass my lips, "Honey, I'm Pregnant." The Talk I sat quietly letting Beth talk. Her words were interspersed with tears, sobs, hiccups, and an occasional sip of coffee. All the while her eyes had been downcast, staring at her hands which were continually trying to wash themselves clean. Finally I said, "Beth look me in the eye." She raised her head as I asked the first of a serious of questions and made a series of mental notes to myself. "You swear this was a onetime thing and it has never happened before?" "Never before Matti, and never again!" "Who was he?" "A chief off an oiler in the shipyard for emergency repairs." "How'd he come to have a car?" "It was an official Navy vehicle." "What's the ship's name?" She told me and I nodded. The ship was home ported out of Pearl Harbor. In my mind there was a sigh of relief. At least we might be able to limit the damage since it's unlikely we'll run across him again. "Your sure your pregnant?" "No doubt. I had a test in town." Smart girl went through my mind. "Who else knows?" "Just you and I." "I assume that you don't want an abortion?" "Never!" "Let me see if I've got it straight. You want me to raise a kid that's not mine and look at it everyday knowing how it came to be here?" With that she flew off the couch and wrapped her arms around my thighs as she buried her face in my lap screaming and sobbing, "Matti, please don't leave me, I'll die. I love you so much. Somehow we can get over this. I'm so sorry, forgive me." I slowly raised her head and looking her in the eye asked the final question, "When the baby is born, am I going to be embarrassed?" "I don't think so, he was just an ordinary guy," she finally answered. "Do you remember what I hollered as I walked out the door earlier?" "Not really," she replied. "I said that now we're almost even," which caused her face to break into a quizzical expression. "Beth, like you, I fell off the wagon!" The look of surprise, shock, hurt, and finally anger on her face was amazing, as one emotion was replaced by another like a runaway merry go round. "Hold it old girl," I said as I raised my hand. "If we're going to have any chance of making this work it has to be with a completely clean slate on both our parts." Matti's Story We were in Kaohsuing, Taiwan on R&R. After our tour in Vietnamese waters we were well and truly in need of R&R, but I was about to be pissed on by the perpendicular prong of predestination. The only other available Chief in my duty section was incapacitated and unable to stand shore patrol duty. Every duty day I got to sit in Shore Patrol Headquarters (HQ) in town from liberty call at 0900 until the last liberty boat at 2330. To really rub it in, I had the weekend duty, so I got it in the ass on Saturday and Sunday. A Chief was there to keep the younger petty officers on shore patrol in line and if trouble broke out in the officer's hangouts the duty Chief SP got the nod because he wouldn't take any shit from the guilty officers and they wouldn't be embarrassed by having a younger petty officer trying to rein in their antics. Sure enough a late night fight broke out in the bar at Nancy's New Harbor Hotel so I got the nod. It didn't take much effort to break the fight up. The sight of a pissed off Chief with a SP brassard on his left arm was usually sufficient as the cooler headed O types would usually break it up themselves. What Now, My Love? I'd no more then gotten back to SP HQ when the alarm went off again. This time it was the O bar across from Nancy's. I was on my way again. It took awhile as the assholes didn't want to give it up. I finally got order restored but there was some breakage so I was going to have to fill out a complete report, taking names and ships involved. There were going to be several pissed off Executive Officers Monday. Mama-san thanked me as I left to get back to SP HQ with my report. Luckily, I got the report finished in time to catch the last liberty boat because in those days the piers were off-limits when the last boat left. Sunday was almost a carbon copy of Saturday, except that by the time I got the report finished it was too late. The last boat had left. I was stuck in town. As I left the bar Mama-san said, "You stuck Chief-san, waterfront closed." Now I was really pissed off. She went on to say, "After you call ship and file report, come back, I buy you drink." Returning to SP HQ I had the radio operator notify the ship. I was told to make sure that I mustered in at SP HQ first thing in the morning so the ship would know I was still alive and kicking. I went back to the bar and Mama-san let me in, turned the front lights off, and locked the door, as the bar was supposed to be closed. By the forth drink I knew that she called herself Mae Ling and she was from Tsingtao in Shandong Province. Hell half the Chinese bar girls in the orient are named Mae Ling. I knew where she came from because she was almost six feet tall and damn good looking. It wasn't too long before I got to thinking about where I was going to crash for the night. Mae Ling surprised the hell out of when she said, "Chief-san, you have room at Nancy's." I smiled when I thought about a certain Supply Officer who was not going to be a happy camper when he got this bill. Mae Ling closed the bar and walked across the street with me to Nancy's. Mae Ling and I had a late evening dinner in the restaurant and then she escorted me to my room. A few words in Chinese on the phone and there was a knock and drinks delivered. The next knock was a maid to pick up my uniform to clean it. By now I was totally confused. Where the hell was all this service coming from and who the hell was paying for it? After I stripped to give my uniform to the maid, Mae Ling waltzed me into the bathroom to scrub me up. After all the drinks I was a happy drunk sailor. After Mae Ling got through cleaning me up I was a very happy horny drunk sailor. The combination of a naked woman soaping me down, playing with my peter, rinsing me off, playing with my peter, being drunk and five months without any pussy made for a lusty night and with me being buried in Mae Ling's pussy for a large part of it. In the morning when I woke up Mae Ling was gone and the guilt and remorse set in. After thinking it over I decided that from now on I was going to be a good boy again and I was going to carry this secret to the grave with me. The ship suffered an engineering casualty and we were stuck in port for several extra days. I ended up on Shore Patrol three more times but without incident as the crew was broke and walking around like happy, smiling, hung-over zombies. Mae Ling and I were back to Mama-san and Chief-san. I never did find out who paid for that night. The Supply Officer didn't 'cause I never got a bitch from him. I'd swear on a stack of Bibles it wasn't Mae Ling. Why did Mae Ling screw my socks off? It sure wasn't my charm or good looks. Could it have been the bar owner? When we left Kaohsuing it was to head back to the gun line off 'Nam again. Six weeks later we left 'Nam and Subic Bay behind us to head for Yokosuka and home. In Yokosuka Doc had all the crew tested to make sure none of us was bringing an unwanted present home. The Talk Resumes The first question out of Beth's mouth was, "Was that the only time?" I assured her it was. "If you were going to keep it a secret why tell me? To hurt me?" "I had to tell you, honey, and yes it was going to hurt you but that wasn't the reason." "Come again?" "When this talk started, I told you what I might feel like about the baby. If our marriage is going to work, I had to remove that in some way so that I could never use it as a weapon against you." After a moments silence she said, "At first it sounds crazy, but I'm beginning to understand. Our individual infidelities are off the table." With what was the first smile today, I asked, "Our what?" "Our .. Oops, sorry, lost my head," she returned, with a soft smile of her own. All this time she'd been laying with her head on my lap. I found myself idly stroking her hair and her body was beginning to relax. She slowly turned her head to face me and queried, "Matti, honey, do you think we can make it? Do we need counseling?" Her body once again stiffened at my response, "There's a problem." "Oh . ." "With my security clearances, if we go to counseling on the base and it gets out, and it will even if it's the base Navy Padre, my career is on the rocks and shoals. Counseling in town is also dammed expensive." "How about Father Macmillan at St. James?" St James is the Catholic Church she sometimes drags me and Gabe to even though I'm not a Catholic myself. Monday we picked Gabe up from school and that week we started our counseling sessions twice a week in the evenings with the Padre. The only problem was the SOB kept trying to convert me. It worked pretty well though, because in two months we were making love and not just fucking to get our rocks off. One night after we'd really gotten it on I asked her about her coldness on that first night. She told me that she was so terrified that my just touching her body would let me know what she'd done, she just froze up. Go figure. Epilogue: The yard overhaul worked out to be a stroke of fortune. Beth was three weeks overdue and the doctors at the Naval Hospital were getting ready to induce labor when her water finally broke. Because of the overhaul I was still in the states and not over off 'Nam again. At 2:00 am on a cold Winter night I learned one of life's greatest lessons: Standing next to Beth's bed in the Navy Hospital I held a small bundle in my arms and the tears flowed as I looked at the 8 Lb. 4 Oz. bundle of brown-haired, blue-eyed baby girl who would always be mine and Beth's Amanda Sue Heikkinen. All too soon we again deployed but there was a mutual certainty that the mistakes of the past wouldn't be repeated. On our return I was amazed at how much Gabe and Amanda Sue had grown. Beth had learned a great lesson too. She never again drank more then one alcoholic drink, except on those rare evenings when Gabe was at Ed and Sue's and Amanda Sue was sleeping peacefully in her crib. Two months before our next deployment we had one of those nights. It was a wonder we didn't destroy the house because the bedroom was a God-awful mess, and we'd made love in every room in the house that night. The ship deployed once more, and just before we pulled into Pearl Harbor the Chief Radioman, with a huge grin on his face, put a message in my hand: "I hope your happy. You've got a sex-crazed two month pregnant wife waiting for you. All My Love, Beth." I think I forgot to tell you, Beth is one horny, horny woman when she's pregnant. The End * Comments are always welcome Ronnie Wachuka Sign me A Horny 'ol Sailor 30-