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.