tagHumor & SatireThe Commodore's Wife

The Commodore's Wife


Seaman third class Angle Bentley was fucking the Commodore's wife in the fantail on the fantail. The how and the why of her being there never crossed his mind. After eight months at sea all that mattered was, she was hanging over the rail with her skirt blown up over her head, her pretty pink naked ass glowing in the bright sunlight of the Mediterranean.

Since he was there to toss the garbage over the side, her tossing her cookies didn't bother him in the least. All his eyes could see was her bare ass and slickly shaven sex.

The trash was forgotten as his dick's head rose for a better view. Eight months of Rosy Palm and her four daughters was more than enough for anyone, especially a dickhead. Angle didn't even think about it, he dropped his zipper and hauled his best friend out into the broad daylight and then shoved him into the darkest recesses of the broad hanging over the rail.

She let out a muffled yelp as she jerked away from the sudden assault on her most private part. Her hips met the rail and she felt herself falling. Talk about your rock and a hard place. She quickly reversed directions and ended up impaled on the hardest dick she had ever had the pleasure to meet.

She groaned deeply as did Angle, he had never felt anything so tight and hot in his life. Officers got all the good stuff, he thought as he grabbed a hip in each hand and let his hips roam free to plow this gorgeous field. Soon he was pounding away for all he was worth. The Commodore's wife hooked her arms under the rail and hung on for dear life.

It wasn't long before she was ohing and ahing right along with Angle. His hips were spanking her ass so deliciously and he was hitting spots that the Commodore couldn't come close to in his wildest dreams, hers either for that matter. The least the Navy could do was issue her husband as good of equipment as the enlisted men got.

As Angle plowed her, she could feel an orgasm building like a giant wave starting deep in the pit of her stomach. She wondered if it was another bout of seasickness but it didn't feel the same. This was different, more like a champagne bottle that had been shaken.

Suddenly the sailor's hips gave a couple of short hard shots to her ass and then there was a hot flood deep inside her. The woman let out a loud squawk, the bastard was coming, and she wasn't ready to quit. Much to her surprise, Angle went back to pounding her fantail for all he was worth.

That's more like it she thought as she let out a deep sigh. The Commodore could use some of the vitamins or chow or whatever it was this guy took to keep going after filling her up. She could hear the squishing from her sex as he rammed his dick home like a well-oiled piston. She was definitely well oiled after that quart he pumped into her.

This was the best piece of ass that Angle had ever sunk his dick into and he wasn't about to let it go after just one load. Anyway, she was slamming back against him almost as hard as he was slamming her. The way that thing was grabbing a hold of his dick and trying to keep it inside was fantastic.

The orgasm that had been building in the pit of the Commodore's wife's belly earlier had abated as Angle came but now it was back with a vengeance. It was building and building to tidal wave proportions. She briefly wondered what was going to happen when it finally hit her.

A few minutes later, several things happened simultaneously. Angle came for the second time, a flight of jet fighters broke the sound barrier right above the ship, and the Commodore's wife's orgasm tore through her body.

Just think about it, a second hot flood, and an explosion of epic proportions. The Commodore's wife thought she had exploded for a moment or two and then the monster wave broke over her, waves of pleasure that is. She had never been a squirter but there is a first time for everything.

From Angle's point of view, he hauled back on her hips and planted himself as deep as he could get as he came, the sonic boom hit, and then he had his dick caught in a velvet vise with a built in fire hose attached. What he had fired into her, she was shooting back at him, plus some. He could feel it running down the insides of his trousers.

He tried to pull loose from the vise but she wasn't having any of that, she just got tighter and tighter as her orgasm rolled on and on like the endless sea. Angle bit his lip to keep from crying out as she bucked and jerked on his poor dick. He was worried that she might pull it completely off his body.

The Commodore's wife couldn't see, she couldn't hear, all she could do was feel and that was more than enough. Thirty-five years of little pipsqueak orgasms paled in comparison to this monster. She vowed then and there to go back to the cabin and beat the Commodore to death with her vibrator.

She had flown over to meet him as a surprise. She was on a hospital ship doing the goodwill ambassador for the Navy thing. She thought of it as one of the perks of her position. Not that there was anything wrong with her position right this minute.

Angle Bentley figured he'd be aptly named when he got his mangled dick out of this mad woman. With some pushing, pulling, and prying, he finally succeeded. After that, it only took a second to stuff his friend back inside his messy pants and to dump the garbage.

He was almost to the mess hatch, when it opened, and the Commodore stepped out. Angle dropped the garbage can, came to full attention, and saluted.

The Commodore returned his salute as he eyeballed the front of Angle's uniform. "That's quite a mess you have there son, you need to be more careful with those cans in the future. Check to see which way the wind is blowing before you give it the old heave ho."

"Aye, aye, sir." Bentley said quickly without even looking down. His heart was in his mouth and he was about to pass out. He didn't dare look around to see where the Commodore's wife was. He figured he was a dead man walking if she was still hanging over the rail.

"Hello darling, looking for me?" The Commodore's wife said. It sounded like she was still over by the rail.

"Why yes dear, your helicopter is leaving shortly and you don't want to be late. By the way, what are you doing out here?" The Commodore asked.

"I was inspecting the mess hall when I came down with a touch of seasickness. I came through that door thinking it was the restroom and ended up out here. This young man showed me a way of taking my mind off my seasickness and I'm fine now."

"Dear, it's not a door, it's a hatch, and the restroom on a ship is a head."

"If you say so dear. You know I can't remember all that stuff. Maybe I need someone to help me with it, you know someone who knows it all and can remind me before I make a mistake and embarrass you."

"That might be a good idea, I'll see if there is a Wave available to travel with you."

"I don't know anything about surfing dear."

"No, a woman in the Navy is called a Wave."

"Oh. See I didn't even know that."

"I'll see who I can find." The Commodore said frowning.

"Dear, what's wrong with this young man right here. He was very helpful and kind to a sick old lady. I think he would do fine."

"He's a mess man dear."

"Yes, he is a little dirty but then working with garbage has a tendency to get one that way."

"No dear, he works in the mess hall."

"Then clean him and it up and send him along later, you said I was going to be late didn't you."

"He will have to have orders attaching him to you."

"Excuse me! I thought that was your job, being attached to me that is."

"No dear, not that kind of attached. He will be placed on your staff as your personal assistant."

"Dear, I don't use a cane much less a staff, that is unless I'm hiking."

"Never mind dear, I'll have the paperwork done and he'll be over on the hospital ship later today."

"Good, I'll be there another week or so and then I'll be touring a couple of those big boats with all the airplanes on them and then there's the tour of that underwater thingy. It'll be good to have someone along to keep me informed of all those odd names you Navy guys use."

"Yes dear." The Commodore replied with a deep sigh. "We had better hurry or we'll be late."

Turning to Angle he said, "Seaman Bentley, report to the head cook and tell him you have the rest of the day off and that you will need orders transferring you to my wife's staff ASAP."

"Aye, aye, sir." Angle said as he whipped a salute on the Commodore.

The Commodore returned his salute, put his arm around his wife, and herded her toward the mess hall hatch. She was a little wobbly; she'd have to work on her sea legs, he thought as they entered the hatch.

Angle Bentley considered himself to be one lucky son of a bitch and grinned as he thought about who was the smartest one in that family. The lady won hands down.

Besides, he figured he was going to see plenty of her with her hands down, on the deck or on the bed or just about anywhere else he could imagine. It gave a new meaning to then phrase all hands on deck.

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