Shipmates

"We lived many lives during those swirling campaigns," is the start to a quote by T. E. Laurence, the one of Arabia. Interesting guy, about whom this story is not.

But, my old shipmate and buddy, Dale, and I did indeed live through some swirling campaigns. We were young sailors together, deployed to the Indian Ocean for the First Gulf War, and together we worked the flight deck, helping to launch hundreds of sorties - hell, thousands. Eighteen hour days were considered easy, and when we did get back into port, we did the usual sailor thing as guys in their early twenties tend to do. Dale was a couple of years older and outranked me, and I appreciated his taking me under his wing, both on and off the ship. Those details aren't germane here, except to say that men in the same unit in a military conflict do form special bonds, and Dale and I felt that way then, and still do.

Life after my uniformed days pretty naturally got less exciting but more materially rewarding. I married the high school sweetheart who'd waited while I went overseas. We had some kids, then in the space of a year, the last kid got launched and my wife died, suddenly and peacefully, thank goodness. I was adrift for a bit from the surprise of it all, but knew she'd have wanted me to live on, and so I did, pretty well adjusting to a series of not too serious relationships, all of which lasted for months but not years. I was doing well at work, the kids were in touch regularly but not compulsively, and life was again good, if a bit bittersweet during some alone times.

Thanks to Facebook, I managed to reconnect with Dale through a military page, and was happy to find my old shipmate again. We exchanged years of catch-up through emails, and the occasional phone call, but Dale was a man of few words, a real country boy who'd gone back to the country after he'd put in 20 years in the service. Retired, with his 50 or so acres that were split between woodlands and pasture that he rented out to a neighbor for dairy cows, he had his needs met and seemed fine. Except, I sensed a loneliness in some of his remarks and so invited myself to go visit him. He hadn't really invited me, but when I leaned on it, he seemed appreciative and really looking forward to having some beers with me on his back deck.

Accordingly, on a late summer Saturday, I donned camp shorts, a polo shirt and hiking sandals and drove the couple of hours out into the countryside to a town that was just a crossroads. My cell phone is smarter than any paper map, and it found his place for me easily.. I pulled up late one Saturday morning, expecting to spend the day and drive back in the afternoon.

The driveway led around to the back, so I followed it, and as I pulled up, his black lab bounded out, barking and wagging, while Dale came out onto the deck, looking down at the parking area, yelling at the dog to be quiet. I got out, greeted Maggie the dog, was rewarded with more wags and that wonderful happy dog face that you get as a blessing when you're accepted by one. Looking up, I was surprised that Dale had put on weight, lots of it! He'd been maybe 150 pounds of lean energy when I'd last seen him, years before, back in the service. Now he was over 200, and if I hadn't known him personally, I'd never have recognized him from a photo. He was also slightly limping, but seemed happy and as robustly full of energy as ever.

"Steve, damn it, you haven't changed - not fair!" he chortled as we hugged that awkward man-hug thing that we've had to learn as adults, since we sure as hell never did it as kids. He handed me a light beer long neck, and I took it, not mentioning it being a bit early for beer, nor my having never really cared for the light stuff, but whatever. Over the next hour, we caught up.

Dale had stayed in the service, got married to a girl he met overseas (I never inquired the details of that - you service guys may relate), and was very happy, moving around, just the two of them, until she died as well, a couple of years before my widowerhood started. Dale, however, took it hard. He admitted he still missed her like hell, and stayed down a lot, not even enjoying hunting (which was virtually a religion with him, as was fishing), never really getting back into enjoying life, until a couple of months previous.

He continued, that he'd put on a lot of weight over the years (he carried it like some guys do, all up front, sort of like he was sporting a pony keg in his belly, rather than having lots on the side or in the legs). Then, in the course of getting diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes, had also found a heart problem, which the docs had him on medication for.

But his eyes lit up a bit as he described running into an old childhood friend, now a widow of some years, who lived a half hour away and who gravitated to him at a high school reunion, them both being there solo. What started as a casual "I remember you," turned into her finding out about his health problems and taking him on as a special case, coming by to fix him meals more frequently than he needed, pressing him (successfully) to finally quit smoking (something the doctors' threats hadn't been able to do), sharing time with him, and sort of segueing into being his girlfriend or lover or maybe on the way to becoming fiancée? I just listened, happy for him and relieved that he was back on track, psychologically at least if not health-wise quite yet.

By then, Dale was on his 3rd long neck, as I was nursing my second. I told him I was glad he was doing so well and said I'd like to meet his girl, named Kathy, sometime. He said that was good, since she was due there any time now and was going to have lunch with us! And soon after, another car pulled up, a convertible with a lady driving it, her hair wind-blown, and her smile lighting up the day and certainly lighting up Dale!

He sort of hobbled down the stairs and hugged her as she got out of the car, then they kissed - like lovers do, not just a hello thing. I was half way between enjoying seeing two late middle agers so in love, as they clearly were, and being embarrassed that I was intruding on a private moment. Again, Dale was jubilant, helping her grab a sack of groceries and introducing us as he climbed the stairs after her.

I could see his attraction to her immediately (and never have been able to figure out why women are attracted to men, so didn't try to figure why a gorgeous woman like her was enthralled by an overweight pot-bellied good old boy). To make it quick, she reminded me immediately of Angelica Huston - all woman, with eyes that knew pain but were ready to take on whatever life brought and had a definite twinkle to them, as if she were in on the joke of life and was finding it a good story! She was a couple inches taller than Dale, and one or two shorter than I am, with dark hair, brown eyes, and breasts that were notably larger than the rest of her fine womanly body would lead you to expect. She wasn't skinny, but her legs were fit, her hips generous but trim for our similar ages, and her tan healthy. But, oh, those breasts!

More to the point, there are women and men who, when they meet, have a chemistry or a bolt of hormones coinciding or something - I can physically feel it when a woman just hits me, exuding sexuality in a way that's not a come-on but that is a hint of something vaguely erotic. People talk about it hitting them in the gut - it hits me right above the balls, and I physically feel it. And, I felt it with her, having no idea if she felt the same way, but holding her eyes longer than a first meeting would usually lend to - one of those time slows down things, where I was just basking in the erotic glow of this stranger with the big breasts and the camp shorts and the button-down oxford cloth shirt unbuttoned just one button below the expected, with the cleavage, oh, the cleavage, just starting to peek out. Whew!! I wrenched myself back to the present, remembering that this was Dale's girl, and gave her a hello hug and we laughed at something Dale said, and we all moved into the kitchen with the groceries.

Lunch turned out to be burgers that Dale did on the grill on the back porch deck, a bit of an exception for her, as he told me she'd been on a kick to get him eating healthier fare than he would on his own. He overcooked them, but they were fine with the obviously not store-bought baked beans and slaw that Kathy had brought along. We talked, or more like it, Dale talked, telling old sea stories about our escapades, some stretched way past my recollection of their antics, some I'd completely forgotten - all accompanied by Dale's ready laughter and Kathy's attention both to the stories and to Maggie the Lab's pretty unlimited desire to be petted. More beer flowed, and the afternoon passed pleasantly. I finally got up at about 3 and announced I'd better get back on the road. I'd stopped drinking a good bit before, switching to a soda that had gone flat by then in the regale of storytelling.

Dale countered, "No! No way - you've got to spend the night at least! I've got some fine Maker's Mark that I'm counting on your sharing - c'mon, Steve - I didn't have any idea you were planning on leaving! There's plenty of sleeping room here, there's a new tooth brush and towels in the second bedroom bath, and we can get up before dawn and walk on down to the lake from here - there's always deer to see (but it ain't hunting season, so we'll let 'em be) and the morning's the best time of day anyway!"

I was about to gracefully decline his offer, but Kathy intervened, "He's right, Steve. You get so much of that city life - take a break, kick back, let yourself soak in this wondrous country side of things." Saying this, she had reached over, and with a move that I thought no doubt wasn't sexual but that my imagination had made it to be, she'd put her hand on my knee, her fingers spread, the index pointing toward my groin. Her leaning and bending just a bit opened that cleavage just a bit more, and I caught the edge of a transparently thin material bra. I figured that with her buxom figure, she'd need some engineering help, but the transparent style spoke to a self-aware sexuality. I envied Dale for having caught the affections of such a woman.

The hand on the knee seemed innocent enough, but could have been otherwise. I knew there was nothing I really had to get back for; and even if it were just some innocent flirting, I was drawn to sticking around if only to be around Kathy. She definitely stoked my fires, and while I knew nothing would come of it, I did like getting the fires stoked with the flirting and occasional cleavage glimpse. "OK, ok. Note I'm not fighting all that hard - it's so great being way out here, so away from everything, I'll stay 'til tomorrow morning then, and thanks, shipmate - you're a prince!

"More like she's a princess," he answered. "It was her idea, or at least partly her idea. Anyway, that's great - oh, and the game's on! C'mon - let's watch it!"

And with that, we adjourned inside, with Dale and Kathy, when she wasn't up getting us more snacks or beers, on the sofa facing the big screen TV, and me next to the sofa in a comfortable easy chair. I don't even recall a good bit of the game - somewhere in the 3rd quarter or so I think I dozed off - ok, I know I dozed off. Dale and Kathy were courteous enough not to yell at the refs or the teams, I suppose. I do know I woke, a bit groggy, with the TV still on, and Dale watching some show about hunting, and it on the dark side of twilight outside.

Kathy was nowhere to be seen. "Where'd Kathy go? I hope I didn't scare her off with my falling asleep!" I asked Dale.

"Oh, no - she's just in the kitchen cleaning up," he replied, blithely, returning his focus to the deer hunter demonstrating how to rig his stand.

I got up, went and relieved myself in the hall bath, then sought Kathy in the kitchen. "Hey, let me help with that," I said, picking up a dish towel to dry what she'd just washed of the various dishes from the barbeque.

"Thanks," she said. "Dale offered - don't get us wrong on that - I just wanted to let him have his hunting show, and this stuff isn't hard to get done.

She worked her way through the various implements and we chatted some more. When she had her front to the sink, I got to check out her fine rear section, the camp shorts framing her ass quite nicely and showing off her firm legs beneath.

Finally, she had everything washed, and I had it all dried, and we were alone, and for a moment, it seemed there were electric vibrations emanating from both of us as we stopped and just looked at each other. She stepped over to me, and before I registered just what she was doing, she leaned up, pulling my head down with one hand, the other wrapping around my waist, and kissed me, hard. I was stupefied, not really seeing that coming, just thinking that all my imagination and all my flirting was no more than that. I felt her breasts pressing into me and reflected how good it felt to have a woman's breasts against my ribcage. And I felt her tongue pressing my lips apart, and I let it, but only for a moment, then I came to my senses and gently but firmly took her by the shoulders and pushed her back.

"Uh, Kathy, er," I started. "We, uh, shouldn't. And I can't go there with you."

"Why not?" she asked. "I thought I was getting vibes that you were into me, and I'm into you, so what's wrong?"

"Ah, well, sorry to be such a stiff, but one of the first things I learned in the Navy was that you don't mess around with a shipmate's woman behind his back, period. And even if Dale and I weren't shipmates, I consider him a friend, and I don't mess around with a friend's woman either, no matter what."

"Not even away from the shipmate or friend? We could meet again sometime, somewhere else. I know this isn't love or anything, but I do feel the attraction, and we could take advantage of that and not interfere, right?"

"Nope, sorry, and believe me, I really mean that I'm sorry in this case. You're an incredibly desirable woman. But it means what it means, so there's no here and no somewhere else for us. You're a fantastic lady, and Dale's incredibly fortunate to have met you, but that'll have to be it for me: you're Dale's lady, and therefore, not mine."

"Dale, honey - you won!" she called out.

Huh?

"I told you I would!" he called back. "Hey you two, get on in here!"

And with that, we went back in, and she curled up in his arm on the couch again. He was grinning like he'd just nailed an 12 pointer, and she was obviously enjoying my puzzlement.

"OK, Steve, here's the deal. I told you about my heart and diabetes, right?" I nodded. "Well, that means I'm pretty useless in the sack these days!"

"You are not!" Kathy interjected, starting to go on.

"No, no, let me tell him, ok?" he said, cutting her off, and she silenced.

"So, I've got this great lady here, and she really is, and she's helped me through a bunch of stuff, this included, and I love messing around with her, but I can't take Viagra because of the heart meds and I can't get it up because of the diabetes thing, and so hands and mouths go just so far, you know?"

"Well . . . " I started, having no idea what to say to this Too - Much - Information - Dammit! thing that he was telling me.

"Yeah, right," he cut back in, to my relief. "So, I'm thinking, I ought to fix it up so she can really get satisfied, at least once - after that, we'd see, but at least once. And she won't do toys or things - she's just against them for some reason, I guess. So the only answer was to get someone to get it on with her that she could have not behind my back or anything, but sort of as a present from me to her.

"And that led to us talking about it, and she admitted that sometimes, but only sometimes, she missed the filled up thing of fucking - sorry, Babe - you know I'm not a fancy talker - but she said that she'd only even consider such a thing with someone who was really nice and who cared about both of us in a good kind of way and who had some integrity as well.

"So, I told her you were coming up for the day, and that you were a friend and a good one who I thought would fit the bill, and we devised this sort of a test - if you'd done anything but turn her down in there a minute ago, we would have backed off and that would have been that. I bet her you wouldn't, and I won! I knew a great shipmate wouldn't let me down!

"So, my winning the bet means that I get to watch the two of you get it on. And her losing the bet means that I get to watch the two of you get it on! I really call that a win-win!" And with that, he cackled in glee, while Kathy just sort of smiled at me, watching for my reaction.

"And if I don't want to? What if it just weirds me out?" I said.

"Well, I know I'll be bummed, but I wouldn't hold that against you - we're still shipmates, right? But I'd be sorry and I'd know you were missing out. And I think Kathy would be sorry as well. I've seen her looking at you, and I can tell she's in like for sure!"

"And if I say ok, then what?"

"Then we take our drinks out onto the deck and watch some stars - they don't have stars like these in the city, I guarantee. And we let 'whatever' happen as it will. And if anyone of the 3 of us gets feeling bad, we stop, no harm no foul. All 3 of us have veto power, at any time. Other than that, we go with the flow, you know?"

"Whew - a lot to take in!" I said. "Let start with that drink - I think I need one!"

And so, Dale poured him and me stiff bourbons - his straight, mine with some ice (sorry, aficionados, I like it that way, so nyah), while Kathy got herself a hefty glass of white wine. We adjourned to the deck, and by that time it was fully dark. Several minutes later, Kathy turned out all the inside lights as she joined us, holding a candle to light her way, then extinguishing it as she sat, the three of us in deck chairs, her in the middle, leaned back and looking upwards. Coincidentally and thankfully, there was no moon, and no town nearby, and no clouds, so the Milky Way was resplendent, and the stars so many that it was downright tough to find the usual constellations that I was so used to seeing in town on clear nights when the other stars were filtered out by street lights and the myriad of light that cities push out into the atmosphere nonstop.

The mood was so peaceful, that I was ok with it just continuing, and letting the earlier talk about sex go by the boards. If they didn't pursue it, I was going to just let it go as well. I was taking another sip of the bourbon when I felt her take my left hand in her right, and the night vision had adjusted well enough that I could see she had his right in her left, her wine glass sitting on the deck beside her. She squeezed my hand and I squeezed back, and we sat still some more. Just as we were quietly sitting, a shooting star streaked across just above us, only for a moment, but unmistakable. In unison, we exclaimed quietly, "Ahhh!"

I heard Kathy say, "I'm taking that as a sign," and she arose, letting go of Dale's hand, holding onto mine as I stood with her. "This way, sailor," she said, and led back into the house, pulling me behind her.

We went to the master bedroom, dominated by a king sized four poster pioneer cabin style bed (the room decorated in a good dozen stag heads with suitable antlers). She bade me sit on the side of the bed, and she found matches in the dark and lit small candles all around the room, bathing it in soft light. Coming back to me, I stood, and we embraced. This time I could feel those large breasts against me without regret, without question, and before moments had passed, I knew she could feel the hardness of my growing erection pressing into her belly.

"OK," I thought, "if Steve can't get it up, and both of them want me to, then I'm sure glad I'm not having any performance anxiety!"