Excerpt from:

Navy Men Have Needs

 

Complete Story and Uncensored Pictures Inside...

 

      I reported aboard the  U.S.S. J**** (ship name withheld) fresh out of high school and boot camp.

 

     Clure was standing the quarter-deck watch when I came down the gangway that first time.  I was struggling with my gear, juggling my packet of orders, and trying to salute all at the same time.  But I wasn"t too distracted to notice that meaty bulge in the crotch of Clure"s starched whites.

 

     Now, I"m no slouch in the crotch department myself, but this guy"s basket was -- BIG!  And I almost tripped over my own duffel bag when I finally took my eyes off his equipment and saw how hot the rest of him was.  The tight, hard ass and those massive pecs and biceps were just straining against his Navy whites as he snapped to attention and saluted me aboard.

 

     It didn"t take me too long to check Clure out.  He was a Second Class Bosun"s Mate, pretty good for someone who was only twenty-three.  He"d joined up on his eighteenth birthday, just like me.  He was in charge of the Bosun"s Locker, a big storage space deep in the bow of the ship, below the waterline, where they keep the extra g­ear for doing all the stuff you do on deck like fueling at sea and handling all the lines when you come in and out of port.

 

     He spent most of his time there when he wasn"t on duty as Bosun"s Mate of the Watch, at sea or in port.  Nobody knew much more about him than that.  He was a real loner.  Nobody was close to him, but everybody respected him and gave him his space.  I was glad when they put me in his duty section, even though he hadn"t said two words to me since I"d come on board.

 

     God, did I get horny on that ship!  We steamed out on a five-week gunnery exercise just two days after I reported for duty.  And I was too scared to try anything on board the Jonas.  I"d heard stories at boot camp about how guys were bounced out of the Navy, or worse, for getting caught fucking around aboard a ship.  Witch hunts and all that shit!  Jesus!  How would that look back in Ohio?  So, I finally did -- or tried to do -- what I had to do to ease the tension, to get some fucking relief!

 

     More than four weeks into the exercise, after standing my stretch as helmsman of the mid-watch, I was taking a long, hot shower.  Horny as I was, I liked to shower alone.  Seeing the other guys naked and wet was too dangerous.  I knew I"d get a monster hardon for sure.  But now it was just after 400 hours (four in the fucking a.m.) and I figured everybody else was either sacked out or on watch. 

 

     I was soaping my crotch, and my cock and balls and pubic hair all felt so fucking slick and good and hot that I couldn"t stop rubbing, didn"t want to stop.  Before long, my cock was full and hard and feeling good inside my fist.  I began to fantasize, and, suddenly, there was Clure, standing in front of my mind"s eye.

 

     He was buck-naked.  We stared straight into each other"s eyes, and he began to massage himself -- his chest his belly his thighs his ass.  His cock became enormous, angling out from his thick, dark pubic hair.  (My own cock was rigid, hard, and hot, too, sliding back and forth inside my fist!) 

 

     I saw him pinch his nipples violently with one hand while he caressed and squeezed the hard red knob of his cock with the other.  He swayed, pulsating to some unheard rhythm.  The intensity of his stare increased.  (And I was pinching my own nipples, too, and squeezing my balls and moaning at the pleasure, the pain!)

 

     He stepped into the glistening water and ran his hands over his wonderful tits.  In shining rivulets, it flowed down his belly and into his crotch and out and over his thighs.  With both hands he spread the water all over his flesh until it covered his torso completely.  He glowed in the light.  His cock was a quivering, jerking shaft begging to be satisfied.  (My own shaft was throbbing, too, pulsating, begging to explode!) 

 

     His eyes linked even more tightly to mine.  He massaged himself with long, smooth, passionate strokes, and the enormous bulb of his cock-head turned from red to purple as his loving, callused fist squeezed more and more sensation into his throb­bing rod.  His face contorted; his belly heaved.  He rocked back and forth and moaned.

  

This true story continues inside along with more encounters...

 


 

 

Read the Series of Stories about these Two Hot Sailors Inside...