Sex in the Navy

Then one morning, we was herded us into a room to watch a sex film. The nurse, who said her name was Miss Taggart, was a real piece of ass. The kind you'd wanna marry and fuck twice a day. She had a big set of boobs, a fat ass, and long legs. Her eyes were kinda a strange grey, but she had the blond hair and the red lips of a porno star. She said she was going to give a demo after the film to make sure we all knew how to stay healthy.

The first thing the film said was that men and women have been around ever since God created them from a lump of clay. The snake in the garden was symbolic of STDs. You gotta keep snakes off your cock, but how? They showed us a funny cartoon about how to roll a condom onto your cock. Of course, that got a lot of laughs. Especially when they said you gotta pinch the end of the condom if it had a nipple.

I thought that was a good hint cause lots a times I'd gotten that nipple filled with air. It looked kind of stupid. The girl I was with started laughing.

Some wise-ass shouted out,

"It works better if the rubber is in your mouth."

I didn't understand that joke.

That remark was followed by clapping and cheers. It made ya kind of wonder what kind of sex lives these guys led.

To teach us how bad STDs are, they showed a bunch of guys with syph. It looked like a film from the 1930s with a caption "Tuskegee Syphilis Study" which musta been in Georgia or some other place. Looked like an asylum. All the poor guys were black; they were blind, deaf with stuff dripping out of their cocks. It was horrible. Some black ensign shouted out,

"Them blacks were not cured. The government wanted to see how sick they could get'em."

Of course, none of us believed that leftist shit. The black commie was grabbed by the security MP's and dragged out. We didn't see him again, but it was hard to forget them poor blacks in the hospital. I guess putting them in there was the best thing they could do as they were leaking germs all over the place.

When the sex film was over, Nurse Taggart asked if anyone wanted to show the group how to roll a rubber on a stiffy. A bunch of guys pushed me forward, and she called me up on stage. She handed me some smutty magazine and said, "look at this, and you'll get a hard-on. I looked, but I was too em-bare-assed by that porno stuff, for my dick to swell up.

See-in no boner, the nurse pulled me up so close I could feel the heat from them giant titties. She opened up her blouse really quick and flashed me up close, no one else could see her nips. Right then, I popped a stiffy.

"Drop your trousers and roll this on."

She handed me a condom, but it was one of the small ones.

"This won't fit," I said.

All the guys started laugh-in and clapping.

"Ok, Mr. Big Man, I've got a special one for you."

She pulled out a maxi condo in a gold-colored foil wrapper and told me to tear it open and to look at it carefully so I'd know which side to roll on. I passed the test. I rolled that son of a bitch right on like I was climbing Mount Everlast in a snow storm. When the nurse saw my prick, incased in that rubber, she must have liked it. She said I'd be called down to her office for blood pressure readings and some jizz samples. Of course, I got a big hand from the guys, and maybe, I guess, for my big dick.

Several days later, a female messenger showed up while we were exercising. I had to follow her back to the med office. Nurse Taggart was waiting there. God, she looked so sweet and virginal. She took me into the back room. Taggart lifted up her medical gown. I saw she didn't have no panties on. She sits herself in a metal bench with her tiny feet in stirrups. This time my Johnson was erect as Trump's wall.

"Do I need one a them condiments?"

"Nope, I'm on the pill."

That was good news, I didn't know what pill she was talking about, maybe ass-prines.

She grabbed my dick in her fist and pulled me right up to her pussy. I slid right in.

"You know," I confided, "when it comes to fuck-in, it feels so much better flesh to flesh. without that condiment."

"You got that right," she said as she bucked up her ass, "but we ain't fucking. This is how we test a penis' jizz capacity in the Navy. This real-life examination to be followed up by lab work."

Holy Jesus, whatever. Her puss was a'dripping wet. If this wasn't really fucking, it sure felt like it. I was so horny I fucked her right quick and sprayed her cunty with my goo.

When I was done, she said, "I need another jizz sample for Uncle Sami. One ain't enough." She gave me a blue vitamin pill and told me to rest up for a half-hour.

I sat down in the corner of the outside waiting room and looked at a gun magazine. When the time was up, the Nurse Taggart took me back to the testing room. She gave my dick a hard squeeze. I'll be damned, this time, I popped a real hard one.

She proceeded to do as before. I got to fuck her again, although it wasn't fucking, just testing she'd said. So I got to be examined for a second time. This time it was like jerking off a second time on the same night. It took a little longer. I guess I was more relaxed, and it took a full fifteen or twenty minutes of fucking her swollen pussy before I popped my nuts.

I apologized for taking so long, but by the look on her face, I think she really enjoyed testing me. I must say it sure felt good. When we finished she carefully wiped the jizz from her twat with a tissue and put it in one of the little stainless receptacles on the floor,

"We will be testing that sample. Sailor, you have done well."

She said she'd make a notation that I was cooperative. The nurse added,

"Your jizz is A1 quality."

I wondered how she could know that, without tasting it. But these Navy nurses are brilliant about such things.

I went into the bathroom and washed that pungent pussy smell off my dick.

She said, "The other guys will be jealous if they knew I had A1 jizz, so I shouldn't discuss the test procedure or my results."

I scrubbed to get my cock really clean, but there still was a pussy smell on my left hands. I was smelling it when Taggart came back into the examination room. As I was about to leave, and she said,

"I sure am glad you ain't a faggot."

"Nope, not me, but there sure is a lot of them, faggot boys, here in the Navy."

"Yeah, we seem to attract them," she sighed. "Well, you just come down for testing every week when I need ya," you know, I'm a 'no-cock-widow lady.'"

"What's a no-cock-widda lady," I asked?

"Long story shortened, my hubby got his cock shot off in Iraq. He ain't no good except with his tongue."

"He fucks ya with his tongue?" I said.

"Yeah, something like that, but a big fat cock like yours is much better. It doesn't tickle, and it fills up my pussy full up to the hilt."

Then she wrote me a medical note. I went back to my division, smell-in my fingers every few minutes. To me, pussy is just like French perfume.

During the fourth week, you hafta put on your dress uniforms to get graduation "pitchers" taken. They tell you to grin, but everyone looks like a shaved ass with these dumb haircuts that make your ears stick out like an el-le-fant.

The fifth week is a fun time, you get to shoot rifles and pistols. One asshole from North Dakota shot off his toe. He was out of there as quick as water in a greasy fry pan. I guess that makes him a war veteran. That proved a point to me, guns don't shoot people, people shoot people. If he hadn't a pulled that trigger, he'd still have all ten piggies.

After they carried him off, the shooting instructor said,

"God has a way of getting rid of commies and their toes." That got a big laugh.

Next, we were trained not to break under torture.

"When the North Koreans are attaching electric wires to your balls, you should be saying the pledge of allegiance to yourself," said our Chief Petty Officer Lon Dong.

He made us watch a movie called "Manchurian Mongoloid," with the famous Chairman of the Bored. I thought that's just Hollywood stuff, but I never knew Mr. Frank Snott-ra was a traitor?

Believe you me, nobody, especially a Commie, is going to get me to wipe my ass with a piece of the flag. Hell no! Lon Dong, the torture expert, said that the movie showed how the North Koreans, years back, killed President Kennedy and his wife. I didn't know that was a way to get a president unelected.

In the sixth week, recruits start to apply stuff we have learned. How to deal with chemical, biological, and radiological stuff. We also learned some anti-terrorism jazz, where you gotta grab a guy with a fake suicide vest and drag him away from your buddies. You get only 12 seconds before the timer alarm goes off. It tells ya that Muhammad Ali has blown both of you up. I tried in practice to save my buds but got make believe- blown up two times.

Battlestation Week was next. It simulated war. Just as scary as one of the video games, but kind of exciting. I got excused from part of the exercise when Nurse Taggart called me down. Uncle Sami needed another jizz sample. I was examined by a different technician, said the Admiral's wife. She must have been brilliant, even her pube hairs were white. My dick was a bit too large for her testing apparatus, but I struggled until I got it jammed half-way in and gave her a full load.

When we finished that no-fucking exam, I didn't think there was any jizz left in my pecker. Nurse Taggart gave me that blue vitamin pill again. A half-hour later, Nurse Taggarttested me again herself. This time she tasted my jizz and confirmed it was A1 homogenized.

Before you can say, "fuck me," the boot camp was over. That's when you graduate, and your Navy tour begins.

During the last few weeks, Beanie and I got separated. I was sleeping in Quonset hut #4. He was assigned to hut number #2 with Chief Petty Officer Dagmar in charge.

You could tell Dagmar took a real liking to Beanie. He took him off base for dinner at the Chinese Pavilion restaurant, a pretty expensive place. Beanie brought me back a doggie bag from there.

"The Petty Officer must like you," I said.

"It's more than just liking. He's say-in he's in love with me."

"When'd he say that?"

"That night he took me to the restaurant, he pulled over the car on the way back. Before I knew it, he' de-pants me. He's a big fucker with a dick to match."

"Ya, saw his dick?"

"I didn't have to see it," said the Bean, "I felt it."

"You grabbed his cock."

"No, you dummy. I felt it when the Petty Office stuffed his cock in my ass."

"You let him bugger you?"

"No, it was a friendly rape. If the Chief had asked, I sure would'a let him corn hole me. Spiro, for some guys, having to ask takes the fun out of sex. If they don't think they're raping you, they lose their hard-on."

"You ain't going out with him again, are ya?"

"Shit, buddy," said Beanie, "the food is good, and my ass is cock-happy, so fuck it. I'm going out with the Chief tonight."

I found that story a little disturbing. I was concerned, that was why Beanie explained to me how this whole cock-in-butt thing got started.

This is a summary of what Beanie told me:

Beanie's sister was a Goth. One of those werewolves types who dress up in black clothing, listen to heavy metal, and have assorted piercings in their faces, ears, lips, nose, nipples, and especially on their sex organs. His sister had so many tattoos, she could have gotten a job in a circus sideshow. When she got to the age of 19, she gave up sex with men. Up to then, Peggy had been fucked so much by guys that she had blisters on her snatch. Then it all changed.

I remember seeing her at work at Thompson auto parts round that time.

I said, "Hi, Peg."

"Peggy is dead, call me Spike," she responded.

That was Peggy, nee Spike, now a full-fledged lesbian. I'd see her arm in arm, tongue kissing on the street corner or leaning low in her seat upstairs in the Roxy Theater, her legs spread wide during the 2am Porno Show where some tongue pierced dike was licking her clit like a windshield wiper. A group of guys standing around watching them was busy jerking off.

At home, Peggy's/Spike's room was next to Beanie's. She could hear when he was training the dragon, "Old Huff & Puff" was what he called his dick. I don't know why he chose that name, just use your imagination. When his sis would hear him going at it, she'd charge into his room. After she did this a few times.

Beanie didn't think he had anything left to hide, so he'd let her come in and watch him as he'd jerk off. It got so she'd come in when he was sleeping, wake him up and ask to masturbate in front of her. She'd even volunteer to jerk it for him. Beanie didn't see anything wrong with it, because as he was concerned, she'd now become one of the boys.

One day she said,

"I'm gonna tell ya, bro, if you really want to give your dick wad a rocket sendoff, you gotta have something stuck up yo ass jam-in your prostate."

"What the fuck is a prostrate."

"Not a prostrate, it's a prostate."

"What the fuck are you talk-in bout?" said the Bean.

"You remember that guy Dom, I used to date, the one with the chopped Pontiac?

"Yeah, the fat guy."

"When I'd fuck him in the ass, cum would fly outta his pee hole like a rocket. One time he hit the ceiling, another time he knocked the lamp off the night table."

"How is it you being able to fuck him? You ain't got a cock?"

"Well, I'll show ya."

So Peggy or Spike, if you please, goes back into her room, strips off everything but her bra, and comes back into Beanie's room with a 6-inch strap-on around her waist.

"Oh shit, you grew a cock," said the Bean.

"No, you dumbass, it's a rubber dick. Go wash your ass first and then come back in here."

Beanie did as he was told. Peg put him on all this back, flat on the bed, with his ass hanging just over the edge. She lubed up the dildo dick with some olive oil from the kitchen, lifted up his legs, took aim, and then Spike, his Lesbian sister, penetrated his asshole with that strap on diddler.

According to Beanie, life was never quite the same after that experience.

He hardly felt any pain. The butt fucking felt more than pleasant, it felt terrific.

"Now," Spike shouted, "start jerking off." She kept up the fucking while he beat off. In a few minutes, he had jerked himself to the point of no return with that rubber ding dong jammed in his asshole. Then his dick erupted.

"By God," said Beanie, "my jizz flew over the bed and splattered on the wall. I've been jerking off since I was a wee lad, but I swear I never felt anything as grandiose as that before.

After that, every night that Beanie wanted to jerk off, and that was just about every night, he'd call Spike to "ass-sist" him with her wonder cock. It was her idea over the next few weeks to ramp up the size of the dildo strap-a-roo from 6 inches to 7 inches and finally stopping at 8 inches. They had a 10-incher around, but the 8 seemed just perfect. Beanie also learned to clean up his act with one of them rubber douches. Making his ass cleans made both of them happy.

That's the long and the short of it, what I call "the Ass Gospel according to the Bean." It wasn't that he loved men or had turned gay, he just needed a dick in his ass to make his cum sessions complete. I thought about this a good bit. I could not accept that the idea that my dearest best friend Bean was a gay or a queer or a pervert. I'd finally found a way to understand his situation. Beanie wasn't gay, he was just focused on having these cataclysmic ejaculations. Any man or woman who was willing to fuck him the ass made his dream "cum true."

Do you think this butt fucking made my buddy gay-you tell me? And I'll ask you, did he love cock? No. Did he suck cock? No. OK, maybe on occasion, he did something to return the favor, but that was a fair exchange meant to give pleasure back to those who were willing to fuck him in the ass. The closest he ever came to being a tiny bit gay, in my opinion, was when he admitted that a flesh and blood cock was a significant improvement over a rubber strap-on. I take that as a statement of truth and not a confession of gayness.

I can buy all of that. Maybe you don't, but I do. I wasn't going to believe my childhood bud had gone gay. I just refuse to believe that. Sometimes ya gotta bend your mind away from prejudice or, in this case, bend over to get your just ass-reward.

I'm gonna skip headed a bit. Once we finished the boot training, we were shipped to Galvinson to fill a berth on the USS Fort Worth, a ship that the Navy didn't want. Congress mandated the LCS's. Littoral Combat Ships. They cost $522 million apiece, without all the hardware to perform combat. The Navy had already decided to junk the LCS program in favor of a new frigate design, but those dumb ass 'congrass-men' got paid off by the shit builders, I mean shipbuilders to vote the thing through.

Critics called the ship a "lemon." What the fuck did we know or care? It was a brand new, state of the art ship with shiny stainless steel toilet seats.

"You couldn't ass for more," joked the Bean.

We ended up sharing two bunks, although I didn't always see much of Beanie, who was very much in demand. Maybe it was his size, his petite figure, the high pitch of his voice, his big eyes, and his willingness to play the part of being a bottom. Although I'd see him daily, come nightfall, or on his off days, he'd be sharing the bunks of his many admirers pressed up tight to his hiney.

Suffice it to say, Beanie had a slue of admirers. The big Hawaiian cook would prepare special meals and cookies for Beanie. The two of us would ear-em. The mechanic's mate would list him down for phantom jobs so they could be together on the mechanic's day off. Beanie's ass was well lubricated by the mechanic's oil can. The chief medical officer fell for him. With his medical care, there was no chance of an STD biting Beanie in the ass.

Our next big adventure took place when our ship was dispatched to the coast off of Guyana. In case you don't know, that's down in South America where they grow tropical fruit and them little bananas. A dozen fishermen from Guyana had gone missing or were feared dead. The result of an epidemic of pirate attacks off the coast.

Our orders were to patrol the area and look for a 'congrassman's' luxury yacht that had gone missing. Onboard was a member of Florida's governor's cabinet and their playgirl guests. I was hoping to get a loo at them playgirl tits. It was April, the weather was warm and damp. We patrolled the coast south of Venezuela for a week, taking shore leave at various ports. We picked up tropical fruits and island rum, and a few guys picked up STDs from the bar girls.

Back on the sea, I was working up in the radar section. We spent our time scanning the coastal inlets for any sign of the rich guy's yacht and bingo! One morning I caught a blip on the radar that fit the outline of the boat we were looking for.

The skipper sent a helicopter in. The pilots came back with footage of the kidnapped victims, including some good looking girls sunbathing in the nude. The captain got permission from the Defense Department to take action. He asked for five volunteers. The captain, a manly hunk of a man, said,

"If you can't save the politicians, at least bring back the ones with the big tits."

We considered spraying the pirate encampment with machine-gun fire. Who knows if we would have killed the very people we were trying to save. The Captain had a better strategy. It was worth a try.

We outfitted one of the pilot skiffs to look like a small lifeboat. Beanie and I were dressed in woman's clothing, with sexy blond wigs. After stuffing our shirts with coconut shells, we looked so much like girls that some of the sailors got boners. The Captain set us adrift along the shore, to be the pirate's bait. Three Navy Seals were hidden under the tarp. Our ship, the USS Fort Worth, was out of sight.