Blue Balls 4 Poor Theo
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Under The Deep Blue Sea free porn video
Amid the quiet humming of the engines of the boomer, or nuclear ballistic missile submarine, Lieutenant Commander Luke MacKay updated his calculations in relative silence. “Crikey,” he crowed. The others in the control room looked at him quizzically.
“Gator,” the executive officer cocked his head.
“Jammed my thumb last night,” he winced, massaging the appendage and speaking in his distinctive accent.
“You’ve looked in pain all morning, Lieutenant Commander. Why not go see the doc?”
“I think I might.”
“Go right ahead,” the graying man advised.
Luke stood and said, “Sir.” He exited the control room, heading away towards where the boomer’s sole healthcare provider worked.
As he moved along the narrow passageway, he saw a scowl-faced fire control technician who saluted him.
The bullish, robust man saluted back and continued on his way toward the missile compartment. Down in the four level abyss, there were nine sleeping bunks, some rudimentary exercise equipment, and a medical room squeezed amongst twenty-four lethal torpedoes.
The commissioned officer in the Royal Australian Navy, who was a part of a two-year personnel exchange program, had been at sea for the past forty-seven days aboard the U.S.S. Eleanor Roosevelt. He was serving as the sub’s navigator and head of the Operations Department.
Lt Cdr MacKay tapped on the door and heard a delicate voice say, “Enter!”
“Sir,” the independent duty corpsman snapped at attention. “What’s going on?”
The sandy-brown haired, dark-brown eyed man ducked to get through the doorway. Once inside Luke stood tall, puffed out his chest, extended his calloused hand, and offered, “My thumb.”
“Let’s take a look,” reached out the considerably shorter hospital corpsman with rich, glowing brown skin.
“Thanks, doc!”
Petty Officer First Class Bryton Parham took the weathered, thick-knuckled, blue-veined ham hock into his own slender hands. “Where does it hurt,” he inquired, squeezing gently and staring intently.
“Ooh,” winced Luke.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” apologized Bryton.
“No! That didn’t hurt too bad,” admitted the Aussie. “You just made something else throb,” he grinned, whispering.
“And what would that be, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Him,” winked the six foot tall foreigner as he guided the doc’s hands toward his groin.
“Hmmmm.” Bryton shook his head and half-smiled. “Is your thumb really hurting, sir?”
“Yeah! You doubt the word of an officer,” he chuckled quietly.
“Never,” the medically trained enlisted submariner rolled his almond-shaped light-brown eyes and fluttered his luscious eyelashes.
“I was hoping you could see after both.”
“And what would your wife say, sir,” Bryton twisted his lips as he turned away in the cramped space.
“She would see that sexy little bubble butt you have and understand,” Luke offered, staring at the apple bottom.
“I doubt that,” remarked the community college graduate as he gathered supplies.
“You’re right,” admitted the guy in his late thirties who was due to take command of his own vessel upon return to his home county.
“I knew it,” the petty officer smacked his lips.
“Only partially,” retorted the rascally fellow.
“Huh?”
“I told you,” began the sailor. “We’ve been on the brink of divorce for a while. She didn’t want to come to the States with me. Said it was a waste of time. I imagine I’ll have paperwork in my email when we surface.”
“Still…”
“Still what, Bryton,” shot back Lt Cdr MacKay. “She hadn’t slept in the same bed with me before I came here for nearly two years. It’s long over.”
“So you keep telling me,” the five-eight, svelte, effeminate Black sissy nodded. “There!” Bryton gleamed at his handiwork, having immobilized the Australian’s thumb using a splint. “I’ll give you a couple of paracetamol and you’re good to go, sir.”
“But I’m still aching,” Luke touched the growing, coily hair of the doc. “You remind me so much of her,” he confessed, focusing hard and unblinking.
“Th-the drag queen,” Bryton stammered.
“Yeah. Her,” Luke broke the seriousness and tickled his small-boned companion.
“S-stop,” he wriggled but still whispered. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment!”
“Make no mistake, mate. It is! She wasn’t a Black person, but she was built like you.”
“Cool.”
“Just the way I like it.” Luke lumbered slowly forward backing Bryton against the far wall. He placed his big, powerful hand with the sprained thumb on the wall. He used the other to caress the outside of Bryton’s sea blue digi-camo uniform. “Come on, sexy! Be my girl! And when we’re ashore, we can really have some fun.”
“i-I...uh…”
“You know you want this fat Aussie cock, baby! I promised it’ll be good to you! My k**s are gonna need a good stepmom.”
“Sir…”
“Luke, baby. Call me “Luke” right now.”
“L-Luke,” Bryton gasped. “I…”
“Want this,” the broad shouldered man finished the sentence and leaned down for a kiss.
It was passionate. Deliberate. Other worldly.
“Taste it,” ordered Lt. Cdr MacKay, pulling down his uniform pants. Out plopped a generous 7⅞-inch pulsating pink prick.
Bryton went slack jawed.
“I know I’ve got a stubbie,” Luke huffed.
“Huh,” the doc contorted his face.
“You Americans call it a...uh...uh…’beer can dick’,” Luke congratulated himself with a huge smile. “B-but I know how to be gentle,” the father of two reassured his vixen.
“I hope to God so,” exhaled Bryton as he became mesmerized by the tool that was a full six-and-a-half-inches around. No sound escaped from his mouth,
“Promise, sexy. Get on your knees.”
Bryton began undoing his outer layer and fell to the floor in one movement. Before he knew it, his full, heart-shaped mouth was wide open and struggling to accept Luke’s girth.
“Mmmm,” groaned Luke as he removed his khaki T-shirt revealing his rugged, stubble-covered chest.
The coarse body hair bit at Bryton’s soft, slender fingers as they moved up Luke’s firm torso. “Mmhmm,” moaned the cocksucker.
“Good boy,” intimated the Aussie. “We don’t have a lot of time. Get up and turn around.”
Bryton knew all too well the life on a submarine. People were always milling about. Everyone spoke in low voices because someone was always sleeping. Security was constantly doing rounds. Privacy did not exist. This was risky.
Bryton stood and turned around. He pulled down his fatigues and exposed his round, supple O-shaped derriere.
“So pretty,” Luke said, savoring.
“Thanks.”
“Lean forward. Squirt some lube, baby.”
Bryton complied. “Ooh,” he grimaced.
“What, baby,” Luke spoke into the petty officer’s ear.
“I-It’s so fat,” the femboy whined.
“I know, baby boy! I’m sorry. I’m being gentle.”
“I-It’s okay.”
“I’m glad, baby. Your boipussy feels so good. Just relax,” Luke commanded as he stroked Bryton’s rock hard eight-by-five-inch sissy stick. “My sissy boi has a big one,” he laughed.
“I guess,” mouthed the bottom.
“You’re a good chocolate faggot boi! I’ve been thinking about fucking you since I first met you,” admitted Lt Cdr MacKay.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he confessed, leaning back slightly to examine his big White cock impaling the small Ebony butt cheeks.
“Mmmmm!”
“Arrrrgggggghhhhhh,” Luke shrieked, stumbling backwards.
Schhhhing! Woo-hoosh! Tiiiiing!
“Shit,” Luke cowered with cum still dripping from his dick. “That was a ripper!”
A knock at the door. “Doc?”
“Everything’s fine. I tripped,” Bryton forced himself to laugh. “Almost done with the Lieutenant Commander’s exam. Give us five!.”
“Very good, sir!”
The two in the medical room remained quiet as they cleaned up. They could hear then sentry’s footsteps moving away.
Once Luke and Bryton were both back within dress code, the Aussie moved forward.
“What’s a ‘ripper’,” asked the doc.
“It just means it was a really fucking great time,” Luke tilted his head back.
“That it was,” smiled Bryton.
“Look! It was a quickie,” Luke spoke even quieter than before. “Be ready for a longer fuck at zero two zero seven.”
“What?”
“I’m going to call for you at zero two zero seven.”
“I got that. But why that time?”
“It’ll look random, sissy,” smirked Luke.
The Royal Australian Navy officer bent down and exited the doorway. The enlistee on security detail saluted him as he went down the narrow passageway back to the control room. He could not wait to fuck Bryton again.
“Gator,” the executive officer cocked his head.
“Jammed my thumb last night,” he winced, massaging the appendage and speaking in his distinctive accent.
“You’ve looked in pain all morning, Lieutenant Commander. Why not go see the doc?”
“I think I might.”
“Go right ahead,” the graying man advised.
Luke stood and said, “Sir.” He exited the control room, heading away towards where the boomer’s sole healthcare provider worked.
As he moved along the narrow passageway, he saw a scowl-faced fire control technician who saluted him.
The bullish, robust man saluted back and continued on his way toward the missile compartment. Down in the four level abyss, there were nine sleeping bunks, some rudimentary exercise equipment, and a medical room squeezed amongst twenty-four lethal torpedoes.
The commissioned officer in the Royal Australian Navy, who was a part of a two-year personnel exchange program, had been at sea for the past forty-seven days aboard the U.S.S. Eleanor Roosevelt. He was serving as the sub’s navigator and head of the Operations Department.
Lt Cdr MacKay tapped on the door and heard a delicate voice say, “Enter!”
“Sir,” the independent duty corpsman snapped at attention. “What’s going on?”
The sandy-brown haired, dark-brown eyed man ducked to get through the doorway. Once inside Luke stood tall, puffed out his chest, extended his calloused hand, and offered, “My thumb.”
“Let’s take a look,” reached out the considerably shorter hospital corpsman with rich, glowing brown skin.
“Thanks, doc!”
Petty Officer First Class Bryton Parham took the weathered, thick-knuckled, blue-veined ham hock into his own slender hands. “Where does it hurt,” he inquired, squeezing gently and staring intently.
“Ooh,” winced Luke.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” apologized Bryton.
“No! That didn’t hurt too bad,” admitted the Aussie. “You just made something else throb,” he grinned, whispering.
“And what would that be, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Him,” winked the six foot tall foreigner as he guided the doc’s hands toward his groin.
“Hmmmm.” Bryton shook his head and half-smiled. “Is your thumb really hurting, sir?”
“Yeah! You doubt the word of an officer,” he chuckled quietly.
“Never,” the medically trained enlisted submariner rolled his almond-shaped light-brown eyes and fluttered his luscious eyelashes.
“I was hoping you could see after both.”
“And what would your wife say, sir,” Bryton twisted his lips as he turned away in the cramped space.
“She would see that sexy little bubble butt you have and understand,” Luke offered, staring at the apple bottom.
“I doubt that,” remarked the community college graduate as he gathered supplies.
“You’re right,” admitted the guy in his late thirties who was due to take command of his own vessel upon return to his home county.
“I knew it,” the petty officer smacked his lips.
“Only partially,” retorted the rascally fellow.
“Huh?”
“I told you,” began the sailor. “We’ve been on the brink of divorce for a while. She didn’t want to come to the States with me. Said it was a waste of time. I imagine I’ll have paperwork in my email when we surface.”
“Still…”
“Still what, Bryton,” shot back Lt Cdr MacKay. “She hadn’t slept in the same bed with me before I came here for nearly two years. It’s long over.”
“So you keep telling me,” the five-eight, svelte, effeminate Black sissy nodded. “There!” Bryton gleamed at his handiwork, having immobilized the Australian’s thumb using a splint. “I’ll give you a couple of paracetamol and you’re good to go, sir.”
“But I’m still aching,” Luke touched the growing, coily hair of the doc. “You remind me so much of her,” he confessed, focusing hard and unblinking.
“Th-the drag queen,” Bryton stammered.
“Yeah. Her,” Luke broke the seriousness and tickled his small-boned companion.
“S-stop,” he wriggled but still whispered. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment!”
“Make no mistake, mate. It is! She wasn’t a Black person, but she was built like you.”
“Cool.”
“Just the way I like it.” Luke lumbered slowly forward backing Bryton against the far wall. He placed his big, powerful hand with the sprained thumb on the wall. He used the other to caress the outside of Bryton’s sea blue digi-camo uniform. “Come on, sexy! Be my girl! And when we’re ashore, we can really have some fun.”
“i-I...uh…”
“You know you want this fat Aussie cock, baby! I promised it’ll be good to you! My k**s are gonna need a good stepmom.”
“Sir…”
“Luke, baby. Call me “Luke” right now.”
“L-Luke,” Bryton gasped. “I…”
“Want this,” the broad shouldered man finished the sentence and leaned down for a kiss.
It was passionate. Deliberate. Other worldly.
“Taste it,” ordered Lt. Cdr MacKay, pulling down his uniform pants. Out plopped a generous 7⅞-inch pulsating pink prick.
Bryton went slack jawed.
“I know I’ve got a stubbie,” Luke huffed.
“Huh,” the doc contorted his face.
“You Americans call it a...uh...uh…’beer can dick’,” Luke congratulated himself with a huge smile. “B-but I know how to be gentle,” the father of two reassured his vixen.
“I hope to God so,” exhaled Bryton as he became mesmerized by the tool that was a full six-and-a-half-inches around. No sound escaped from his mouth,
“Promise, sexy. Get on your knees.”
Bryton began undoing his outer layer and fell to the floor in one movement. Before he knew it, his full, heart-shaped mouth was wide open and struggling to accept Luke’s girth.
“Mmmm,” groaned Luke as he removed his khaki T-shirt revealing his rugged, stubble-covered chest.
The coarse body hair bit at Bryton’s soft, slender fingers as they moved up Luke’s firm torso. “Mmhmm,” moaned the cocksucker.
“Good boy,” intimated the Aussie. “We don’t have a lot of time. Get up and turn around.”
Bryton knew all too well the life on a submarine. People were always milling about. Everyone spoke in low voices because someone was always sleeping. Security was constantly doing rounds. Privacy did not exist. This was risky.
Bryton stood and turned around. He pulled down his fatigues and exposed his round, supple O-shaped derriere.
“So pretty,” Luke said, savoring.
“Thanks.”
“Lean forward. Squirt some lube, baby.”
Bryton complied. “Ooh,” he grimaced.
“What, baby,” Luke spoke into the petty officer’s ear.
“I-It’s so fat,” the femboy whined.
“I know, baby boy! I’m sorry. I’m being gentle.”
“I-It’s okay.”
“I’m glad, baby. Your boipussy feels so good. Just relax,” Luke commanded as he stroked Bryton’s rock hard eight-by-five-inch sissy stick. “My sissy boi has a big one,” he laughed.
“I guess,” mouthed the bottom.
“You’re a good chocolate faggot boi! I’ve been thinking about fucking you since I first met you,” admitted Lt Cdr MacKay.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he confessed, leaning back slightly to examine his big White cock impaling the small Ebony butt cheeks.
“Mmmmm!”
“Arrrrgggggghhhhhh,” Luke shrieked, stumbling backwards.
Schhhhing! Woo-hoosh! Tiiiiing!
“Shit,” Luke cowered with cum still dripping from his dick. “That was a ripper!”
A knock at the door. “Doc?”
“Everything’s fine. I tripped,” Bryton forced himself to laugh. “Almost done with the Lieutenant Commander’s exam. Give us five!.”
“Very good, sir!”
The two in the medical room remained quiet as they cleaned up. They could hear then sentry’s footsteps moving away.
Once Luke and Bryton were both back within dress code, the Aussie moved forward.
“What’s a ‘ripper’,” asked the doc.
“It just means it was a really fucking great time,” Luke tilted his head back.
“That it was,” smiled Bryton.
“Look! It was a quickie,” Luke spoke even quieter than before. “Be ready for a longer fuck at zero two zero seven.”
“What?”
“I’m going to call for you at zero two zero seven.”
“I got that. But why that time?”
“It’ll look random, sissy,” smirked Luke.
The Royal Australian Navy officer bent down and exited the doorway. The enlistee on security detail saluted him as he went down the narrow passageway back to the control room. He could not wait to fuck Bryton again.
Jo
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