Roberta, Molly and Ed

Free from the lieutenant's hand and the commander's mouth, Ed rolled over into his back, one leg outstretched, the other flexed, his foot resting on the edge of the bed. He looked at the foot of the bed, watching the two women kiss. Roberta's hard cock was pointing at him, so he took it in his mouth. To his surprise, the Commander quickly pushed him away.

"Later, flyboy," she said, swinging to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "I want your ass. After we eat. Then you can clean me afterwards." She picked up the phone on the nightstand and ordered room service: "Three entrees, with all the fixings, three different desserts, I'll let the kitchen decide, and two large pots of coffee——no, make that three. How long? A hour is fine. Deliver it to Room 1110. Oh, by the way, have you received an order from 1111? Send him a steak dinner. Yes, he'll be expecting it. Put everything on Room 1110. Thank you."

Placing the phone in its cradle, she turned to Edward. "Put a robe on and come over to our suite." She turned to Wynn, "Let's get our things and get to our rooms."

They left the bedroom, gathered their clothing and things in the living room, and entered their own suite. Ed was only steps behind them. Each went to her own bedroom. Not knowing what to do, he did nothing, sitting on the couch, waiting. About five minutes later each exited their room, as if it was planned. Both were wearing the hotel's white terrycloth robe and open-toed wedge bedroom slippers with a ridiculous pompom on the vamp of each. Molly had touched up her lipstick; Roberta's mouth bore the telltale trace of lipstick. Underneath the robes, Ed saw the pussies he had seen when they first stripped, which alternately peeked out then hid themselves as the women walked.

Each suite had a bar, the women's being larger with an under-the-bar refrigerator. Roberta looked inside, spied the suitcase of Martinez' favorite beer the Admiral said would be there. She took out a six-pack and headed for the door.

"Molly, fix the commander a drink," Roberta ordered as she exited their suite.

Martinez was surprised to hear a knock at the door. He had expected the officers to call him if they wanted to go somewhere. He scrambled into his uniform and rushed to the door. He knew he presented less than the strac appearance required of him when he opened the door. Roberta looked at his disheveled appearance and gave him a stern, reprimanding look. Martinez unwittingly returned the look as he noticed her lips, the hint of breasts at the top of her robe, and of cunt below. She held up the beer.

"I've ordered you dinner, Petty Officer Martinez. It should be here within the-hour. The Admiral said you liked this brand of beer." Handing the beer to Martinez, she concluded, "She'll be here tomorrow. I think you know how she expects to find you."

Martinez stiffened. "Yes, ma'am. She won't be disappointed, ma'am."

Roberta started to turn, then looked at Martinez again, smiling. "We won't be going anywhere tonight, Martinez. And the Admiral won't be here until tomorrow." She then walked back to her suite.

Martinez stood there in the doorway, holding the beer in both hands, watching Roberta sashay back to her suite. As she entered, he sighed. He sure would like a piece of that, to have his cock between her lips.

Molly and Edward were sitting on the couch when Roberta returned. Molly had fixed herself a metropolitan, while Edward had helped himself to one of Martinez' beers. Roberta went to the bar and fixed herself a white wine on the rocks. She plopped into the loveseat, turning so that she was leaning against an armrest, her legs stretched on the cushions.

"So, what have you two been talking about?"

Molly looked at Cromartie with a disgusted expression. "The lieutenant commander's been trying to pull rank. Thought with you out of the way, he could boss me around."

Roberta smiled. "Commander, you're not the first one to make that mistake. Don't make it again. Molly has a black belt in several martial arts, many a has man found themselves on their knees, holding their balls——or what was left of them."

Molly looked at him. "Lot's of guys think that since I'm short, small, Asian, and transgendered, they can boss me around. I'm no sissy bimbo. I'm still male and I'm trained in self-defense both by the Navy and as a civilian. For your information, flyboy, most of my same sex assignments are as a dominatrix. Seems a lot of admirals and generals like getting their asses whipped by a short transgendered Asian in leather and stillettoes. And I enjoy whipping their asses! So, don't give me anymore shit, flyboy!

"Commander ... do you prefer to be called Edward, Ed, Eddy ..." Roberta asked.

"Most people call me Ed, but any of them are okay." Cromartie replied.

"Okay. Ed, on this assignment, I'm your immediate superior. When I'm not with you, Molly acts in my place. So although she's a lieutenant, she still outranks you on this assignment. Got that clear, sailor?"

Cromartie looked at Roberta, then Molly. Their no nonsense expression made Roberta's words very clear. "Clear, Commander," he said.

"Good. Now, we've got two days before you begin touring the news stations and talk shows. We'll begin working on your presentation tomorrow. While on this assignment, which should last until next Saturday, we'll be your constant companions. Since the Navy doesn't want it known that you're gay, and a bottom at that, we're here to take care of you sexually, as well as shepherd you through the interviews. Of course, you can go without our sexual services, but that means another week with only your hand to relieve you. Clear."

He looked at Roberta. "Clear, Commander."

"So we'll look at you adoringly and wistfully when we accompany you to the talk shows, hit some night spots during the week, where we make it clear that we're more than colleagues, and attend some Navy recruiting functions. If you want a white woman, I'm sure the Admiral has some blue-eyed blonde she can assign to you. Might even be a genetic woman. If you got needs ... or wants ... Molly and I can't fulfill, then the Admiral can make arrangements. As long as your sexual orientation doesn't become known. ... Or ours."

Ed pondered what was being told him. A month without sex before he was forced down in China. Two more weeks in confinement. Then the three weeks of debriefing. Nine weeks! The sex he'd just had was the first sex he'd had with another person in nine weeks! And it was good sex. "Just a few questions."

"Go ahead," Roberta said.

"First, how did you find out about me?"

Roberta smiled at Molly, who grinned back. "You're an open secret, Ed. That prep school you went to is know for turning out queers. Like you, like Capt. Harper. You've been under suspicion since you joined. When you were caught being with Capt. Harper, you just confirmed suspicions. He was allowed to resign, you weren't, remember. The Navy didn't know what to do with you, so they gave you a suicide mission flying intel recon over China. ..."

"We were in international airspace..." Ed protested.

"And that's what you will say whenever you're asked about where you were when the chinks forced you down," Roberta admonished. Molly rolled her eyes. "We can cover your interview points tomorrow. Kicking you out of the Navy with less than an honorable discharge presented problems. Letting you resign under honorable conditions presented problems. So you were given a mission in the boonies where you would either be killed, or expected to kill yourself. But you weren't and you didn't. You stood up to the chinks ... destroyed any useful equipment, and embarrassed the hell out of them for forcing you down. So then the Navy had to find a way to use you.

"So you were assigned to Admiral Hruskova's special projects. She decided you would be a great public relations and recruiting asset. Except you're gay. So she called in Molly and me. We're also part of her special projects. Briefed us all about you. Parents. Siblings. Prep school. College. Career in the Navy. The incident with Harper. Your assignment to the Far East. She even found some of your other lovers." Ed sat up at this. "Don't worry. She's had them taken care of."

"Taken care of?' Ed asked.

"Well, the Admiral does have contacts. And Carlyle Prep School does have its official reputation to protect ... and its queer one to live down. Let's just say your friends are back in the closet, more or less permanently. Anyway, your whole life is known to the Admiral, and through her, to us."

Ed thought about this. Were all his past sexual partners subject to the Admiral's minions? "Second," he continued. "What's with you two?"

Another expected question. "Like I said, we're part of the Admiral's projects. We're Navy officers, like you. We're not exclusively gay, like you. In fact, we don't consider ourselves gay at all. We each want to live our lives as women. To most people, that means we're gay. We want to live as women, but we don't want to be women. I guess that labels us she-males. Personally, I find all these labels confusing. We just like being women! I personally enjoy sex with women, but as a female Navy officer that would get me labeled as a lesbian. Not to mention what would happen if the other woman was turned off when she found out I was male. I didn't date Navy people, to be safe. But, going from male Navy officer to hot Black dyke with something extra on weekends and leaves gets complicated. Word got around ... I ended up in Admiral Hruskova's office one day, and on her staff by the time I left."

"My situation was different." Molly added. "I've been dressing up since I was a little boy. Girls have such pretty clothes. Didn't want to be a girl, just enjoyed dressing like one. When I was little, my parents thought this was cute. When I was still doing it as a teenager, they got scared. Thought I was gay. Had me join the Navy after high school, thinking it would straighten me out. Duh!!! You think your son is gay so you send him to the U. S. Navy! About a year into my enlistment, an opportunity for a service school came up, but my CO, a ballbusting lesbian, wanted to send a woman. Only she didn't have anyone qualified to go. And I was. So she jokingly told me if I could pass as a woman she'd send me. I showed up at her apartment—she lived off base—dressed up. Once she got over the shock, we spent the rest of the weekend in her bed when we weren't going around town as new best girlfriends. I got to go to the school.

"About 2/3 of the class were female, most closet lesbians. Or not so closeted. I got picked up by a lesbian fellow student at a Navy school. I thought it would be interesting; she didn't. When she found out I had a dick, she freaked. Only the fact that she was gay prevented her from informing others. But she was cold as ice for the rest of the semester. Those who knew her thought she'd come on to me and that I had rejected her. Led to my being hit on by several of my classmates, male and female. Of course, I couldn't accept their advances, so questions began to circulate. After the school, I returned to my old assignment. My Vietnamese name is not gender specific to people who only know English. My last name is spelled—N g u y e n. It's pronounced Wynn,

"You know, the Navy is like a small town with nothing but gossips. The dykes got their own grapevine, so soon they knew about me. Quite a few of them are switch hitters, like my CO. They kept my secret, I kept theirs, and we enjoyed each other. Except ... some of them dykes are real bitches! The fact that I was a man living in drag and getting away with it, that I was fucking some of them ... well, word got around. Next thing I know I'm hauled before Admiral Hruskova and a several of other women admirals. ... Didn't know there were that many women admirals ... and transferred to her special service."

Roberta continued. "So the Admiral, upon discovering that we wanted to live as women, but not become women, made it possible for us to live as female officers, on the condition that we have be available for her special assignments ... in the service of our country ... and the Navy ... and her. Our government has a need for people like Molly and me. Passable as women, discreet. For men like you. In and out of service. Intelligence assets. Foreign heads of state or men highly placed in their governments. Beards is another name for what we do. All the services have us. State Department too."

"And we service the women admirals also," Molly interrupted. "And diplomats. Lots of queens in the Queen's service." She snickered at her own joke.

"The Admiral has a file on us like the one she has on you," Roberta continued. "Our entire lives have been changed. As far as the Navy is concerned, we are female. Parents, family, school, college, Navy careers now have me as Roberta Blisson and Molly as Molly Wynn."

Molly took over. "So when we got our new personas, the Admiral made the change. Our male personae no longer exist. Which is just fine with us. We have what we've always wanted: careers as female Navy officers."

Ed looked at their crotches, which they had exposed in their various poses.

"What's with those things?" he asked, looking at Roberta's crotch.

Roberta and Molly smiled at each other, then at Ed. "I was wondering if you were going to ask about these," Roberta said, opening her robe to reveal her breasts and crotch, spreading her legs. "Like I said, we want to live as women, but not become women. No breast implants, no alterations ... down there. But we have to appear natural. Can't have a dick getting hard at the wrong time. And if someone should look up our skirts, they shouldn't get a surprise! The breasts are easy. There are quite a few companies supplying realistic breasts from bra implants to adhesive prosthetics. The Navy has its own labs producing the same. Mainly for Navy wives or officers who've undergone breast surgery due to cancer."

Molly picked up the explanation. "Yeah. I had a real hard time ..." she snickered at the unintended double entendre ... "keeping myself from being discovered at the school. These vaginas are pussy panties, such as you can get in any adult book store, only very advanced. Ours have been developed so that we can go to the toilet without removing them. Fully functional too. Both Robbie and me have several different types, with different hair patterns depending on the assignment. Most of the time its either the full bush, like we're wearing now, or the landing strip. I have a few which are bare. ..."

Roberta sighed, recrossing her legs. "Not me. Guys ... and gals ... who want a nymphet look usually want a nymphet."

"Or an Asian. Everybody thinks I'm a chihuahua!" Molly grimaced.

Roberta crossed and recrossed her legs. Molly shifted hers so that her robe fell open enough to reveal her pubic hair. Both moves caught Cromartie's eyes. The women grinned at each other.

"Curiosity ... or?" Roberta asked.

"I'm not exclusively gay, as you put it," Cromartie answered.

"That's nice to hear," Roberta said. "But your response just now is what we want the hotel staff, the petty officer, and any other hetero male to have. We'll be flashing everyone we meet over the next week. Discreetly of course, but we really need to establish the fact that we're genetic women whom you're banging from sundown to sun up. Understood?"

"Yeah. So, you two do this often?" Ed asked.

"Depends on what you mean by 'often,' " Roberta responded. "Most of the time we're desk jockeys, shuffling papers, staring into a computer screen all day. There's lots of things to keep track of, when you work for the Admiral. Most times when we're escorts, just eye candy. We do make two hot looking women, don't we?" She smiled at Molly. Both were very proud of their appearances.

Roberta continued. "About once in any three, four month period, we'll get an assignment that requires us to have sex with an asset. Usually a one-night stand. Some diplomat or foreign visitor who needs his ass reamed, but don't want to risk getting caught or exposed. Or some general or admiral. You'd be surprised how many of our flag officers are fag officers." Roberta and Molly tittered at this. "Oh, but I guess you wouldn't be surprised."

Ed settled back into the couch. "No, I wouldn't."

Ed looked at Molly, then Roberta. "You two a couple or something like that?"

Molly looked at Roberta, smiled, and Roberta smiled back.

"No," Roberta said. "We've been on assignments together. Not necessarily to have sex with someone, just assignments. Of course we knew there was something different about each other, for either of us to be working for the Admiral. When we found out the other was transgendered, we became friends. The Admiral figured we would, might even say planned it. We'd each done sex assignments for her before we hooked up. So she asked us if we'd be willing to do so as a team. It was more of an order than a request ... we said yes ... ... and we've worked on sex assignments as a team about two, three times before now."

"We are still open to individual sex assignments, though," Molly added. Looking at Roberta. "Not that I don't enjoy being with you, Robbie. It's just that I never thought along couple lines."

Roberta came over and sat next to Molly. "I never thought along couple lines either, Molly." She turned to Ed. "Would you have asked a couple of guys who served together if they were a couple?"

Again, Cromartie realized he had made a faux pas. "I guess not. Sorry."

"For a gay guy, you've got lots of straight bigotry about transgendered," Molly stated.

Cromartie sighed. "I said I was sorry."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Roberta got up, fastened her robe so that it was clear she was naked underneath, and answered it. The waiters rolled in two carts. Roberta saw a third waiter knocking on Martinez' door. She noticed as the waiters casually assessed the trio's attire, the open door between the suites, the smudged make-up on the women. Both she and Molly managed to shift their positions so that there were momentary openings of their robes. The waiters said nothing, but the trio knew it would be all over the hotel within the hour. Just as the Admiral wanted. Roberta signed for the meals, including Martinez', and closed the door behind them after they left. There was a beef entree dish, a pork entree dish, and an Asian food dish. Ed took pork, Molly beef, and Roberta the Asian. They ate in silence for the first several minutes, unaware of their hunger until they began eating. Only near the end of the meal did Roberta speak.

"Anyone want seconds?"

Molly held up her hand as if she was in school; Ed merely nodded. Roberta called room service again, only to be informed that it was too late for room service. The desk offered to have the kitchen staff prepare something, considering their special status. Roberta declined, then ordered three large pizzas from a pizzeria that intelligence agencies in New York City use often. Two with a variety of slices, one Italian sausage. These would also take another half-hour.

"Anything else?" Roberta asked, putting the phone down.

Just then the room phone rang. Blisson answered. Yes, she did order pizza. Yes, send the man right up. Thank you. Hanging up the phone, she went to the door to wait for him. She leaned against the doorframe, proud of how shapely her legs had become. She knew she looked hot, the robe hitting her at mid-thigh. A few minutes later , the elevator doors opened, and a scrawny man in mid-twenties exited, carrying three pizza boxes. He looked around briefly before seeing Blisson, who motioned him to her. She returned to the living room, leaving the door open. The delivery man entered, and Blisson directed him to set the boxes on one of the food carts, looking from Roberta to Ed to Molly and back to Roberta. Two good looking women, one guy, the women's make-up smeared and smudged, the guy's robe barely closed. The delivery man seriously considered joining the Navy!