Can I Go To The Pictures With Steve? free porn video

Preface
This is my (sex) life story. I’ve started it from comparatively late in my life (when I was about 25) because quite frankly I had quite a normal boyhood and the usual teenage experiences that I wouldn’t want to bore you with, especially as many of you have had a far more interesting upbringing I’m sure. So, this is from the time of my first “unusual” experience and goes up to the present day (I am now 67). In that time I think I have had the thoughts that many men have had but instead of repressing them I like to think I have done something about it.

Everyone is different, and what may be abhorrent to one person may be a secret fantasy to another. I think that I have an open mind and great tolerance towards others, especially with regards to sex. I really believed that anybody who does not at least have the occasional fantasy is repressed and doing themselves no good at all. We each only have one life; if you don’t grab the opportunity when you can you will spend eternity regretting it. I honestly believe that I have now “scratched all my itches” but I keep an open mind – and vivid imagination. If you still have things you secretly desire, then I say to you Carpe Diem.

The contents of this story are basically true. Sometimes I have elaborated on an actual situation so that it ended more satisfactorily in the telling but is still based on reality. On other occasions at which I was not present I had to guess at what may have happened. I am positive that I am not too far out. Often I was told of incidents post-event and have elaborated in my own words as other parties may not have the imagination or language to do the situation real justice.

Enjoy

Mike 
Chapter 1

“Can I go to the pictures with Steve?” Not a question I was expecting from my young wife, the mother of my two c***dren, referring to our next-door-but-one neighbour, a petty officer on the Royal Yacht with quite a reputation as a ladies’ man. Why would I want to say that she could? Well, maybe I should explain

We had been married six years but a lot of that time I spent away from home, being in the Royal Navy too (I was a petty officer as well and it was a married quarters’ estate). Like just about every other matelot I used to spend the long nights at sea reading porn in my bunk and sometime previously I found a genre of porn which really did turn me on. Wife-watching. And I meant really turned me on. The thought of a man seeing the woman he loved getting fucked, screaming in delight, eyes rolling, mouth wide open; well, that really did it for me and in the dull light of the mess-deck I would masturbate night after night (hardly unique in a space containing 24 hormone-laden lads).

Having a secret fantasy is one thing, being young and relatively early in a marriage and bringing it up with your wife is another. This was the early seventies; the swinging sixties had largely passed us by due to my sea time and our two-year posting to Singapore (during which I still spent months away) so in many ways we were still both strangers to the more enlightened society we had just re-joined. My wife did adopt two modern fashions though – the contraceptive pill and mini-skirts. Margaret was just 18 months younger than me, 5’0” tall, just 7 stone (98 pounds for you Yanks) and perfectly formed. She was (and is) a natural blonde with incredibly smooth skin. She has never had to shave her legs and her pubic hair is very light coloured and fine – hardly visible at all. She is also proud of her body and a bit of an exhibitionist. During our time in Singapore I got into photography and she took very little persuasion to strip and pose – even though I had to take the film to the local Chinese store for developing. We were both sure that more copies were made then were sold to us, but she didn’t really care. And she didn’t have more than a token objection when I showed the results to selected friends. My attitude was that she was very pretty and I was the envy of my shipmates, even more so when they saw what I was getting! Lots of lads were asking for “up-homers” every weekend and she would sit opposite them wearing very short skirts with her panties visible – it was hot in Singapore. Other than outrageous exhibitionism and mild flirting though, I was not aware that anything ever went further during my times away – though it would be the object of my fantasies in my bunk.

So, my response to her request to go to the pictures, given my secret desires, was a definite “yes” but without sounding too keen.
Even many years later I remember what she wore that night; knee length black boots, black tights, leather mini skirt easily half way up her thighs, a white blouse and short black leather jacket. I kissed her goodbye and told her to enjoy herself. I watched them both leave (in his Mini Cooper S – very “with it” in those days) and settled back to babysit – and fantasise.

It was well past half eleven when she got back. I immediately noticed two things; firstly, she was looking very flushed – and she wasn’t wearing her tights! How I managed to keep the tremble out of my voice I don’t know. Certainly there was a lot going through my mind. Most incongruously was that he had a Mini! Now they weren’t like today’s Minis, these really were very small. So how could she possibly have fucked him in a Mini!

“How was your night?” I asked

“OK”, she answered, “It was a good film”. (I think it was Love Story, though not sure – and the last thing on my mind anyway). “I’m awfully tired, I’m going up” she said, turning away. I rapidly locked up, turned off the lights and followed her up the stairs. She was getting undressed in the dark when I got to our bedroom and though I’m not positive I think she didn’t have any panties on. She quickly finished and slipped into the bed; neither of us wear night clothes to this day so very quickly I was in with her and spooning into her back. She felt wonderfully warm, yet I detected a slight quiver. I cuddled her closely and after feeling her warm firm breast, toying with a semi-erect nipple, I inched my hand down between her legs – which she quickly closed.

I had to take the chance. “You know I love you and would do anything for you”, I said. “Mmmm..” she murmured. “Well that includes me wanting you to enjoy yourself…….in any way that pleases you”. I felt her warm body stiffen slightly. “What do you mean?” she asked.
I breathed deeply, here goes nothing! “Well, it may sound strange….but I would really like to think that Steve fucked you tonight”

There was quite a pause; I thought I may have really blown it here.

“Why would you want to think that, for God’s sake”, she burst out, almost angrily – but not quite convincingly. “Because I think you’re beautiful. I want men to fancy you. I want men to envy me.” I paused, “Do you remember our sports car in Singapore?” I felt rather than saw her nod. I had a metallic blue MGTD open top roadster that was my pride and joy. “All my mates were really jealous of me in that. And after I let a couple of my closest friends drive it around the Sembawang Road Race circuit they thought the car, and me, where the greatest”, I paused, “Well, I wanted my mates to drive you”. I paused, she didn’t reply. I pushed on. “Because the thought of you with another man, naked, screaming, panting, is the most erotic thing I can think of. I’ve fantasised about it for years and the image I have with you and Steve tonight is giving me the most tremendous hard-on as you can feel”. I held her tighter, my throbbing cock pressing hard between her cheeks.

“That’s sick”, she breathed. But I felt her body slowly relax in my arms. She turned the top half of her body and I could feel her eyes look into my face in the darkness of our room lit only by a distant street light. “Are you really saying you wouldn’t mind if Steve…..” She hesitated, forcing herself to say a word I have never heard her use before. “……..fucked me?” Now it was my turn to tense up and if anything, my cock got harder.

“Darling, I would love it more than anything in my life if Steve has fucked you, and…..” it was my turn to hesitate, “………and I would love you to eternity if you were to tell me all about it”. There, I’d said it all.

There followed a short pause, then Margaret slowly turned around to face me and wrapped her arms around my body, cuddling tightly against my tenseness.

“Are you sure? Are you really sure? I don’t want to take the risk of us losing all that is good between us unless I know you can handle this”. I wasn’t aware, but I had been holding my breath which I now let out slowly and audibly. “I’m sure”, I gasped.

There was a longer pause as if she was calculating the risks, balancing the advantages and disadvantages of what may happen.

Finally, “Okay”, she said and snuggled into me.

“You know that Steve has always fancied me I suppose”. I nodded. “Well, I’ve always fancied him as well, but we have never had the opportunity to be alone together, so nothing has ever happened. Until tonight.” She paused. “When you said that you didn’t fancy going to see Love Story I asked Hazel (Steve’s wife) if she wanted to go. She said that she had seen it once but didn’t want to go again. Then she said that Steve had missed it and wanted to see it so maybe he could come with us. She thought you were coming as well”. She hesitated. “You’ll have to pretend you came if she mentions it”. I nodded silently in the dark.

She shifted herself in my arms, warm and cuddly.

“After we got in the car we didn’t get far. Just to the sports ground. I think we both knew what was going to happen. As soon as he switched off his engine we grabbed each other and kissed. Wet kisses. Deep kisses. He held me really tight and I pulled him over to my side. We kissed for some time. Nothing more than that though, not then. We said how much we fancied each other and kissed and hugged for some minutes. We did discuss not going to the pictures but decided that we had to because Hazel was bound to ask and if we seemed unsure about the story she would suspect. So we went. Steve drove most of the way with his hand on my knee, even moving it higher up my tights when we stopped for lights.”

“When we got to the cinema Steve went to get the tickets and I went to the toilet”. She hesitated and tensed in my arms. “I took off my tights and pants and put them in my bag”, she whispered, and waited for a reaction.

My breathing deepened and rose in volume. I held her tighter. “Go on” I croaked.

“The theatre was packed so we did not have much of a choice where to sit. Not in the back unfortunately. We took off our jackets and put them over our knees. As soon as the lights dimmed I felt Steve’s hand on my now-bare knee. A beautiful, warm soft touch which made me shudder and fall back in the seat. He leant over and kissed me. I returned it. It didn’t take long for his hand to trail up my thighs, especially as I opened my legs so that he could feel the soft inside. He stopped suddenly at the top of my thighs as he realised I had no pants on! He looked me in the face and I could see him smile.”

She was now breathing very heavily as she conjured up the memory and feelings in her mind.

“It didn’t take long for a finger to find my clit. He didn’t have to wet his finger himself; I was absolutely soaking. He gently rubbed the button, up and down, circling, pressing. God, he was good”. She stressed the last word then paused. “I came”

And I almost did as well at that moment, the images etched in my mind’s eye.

“Steve is very much a gentleman though. He slowed down, then rested his hand on my hot thigh and let me come down. I’m sure the girl sitting next to me knew what was going on, but I didn’t care. While I was recovering I could see from the corner of my eye that Steve was manoeuvring himself under his coat. I guessed what he was doing. It was what I wanted him to do. He gently removed his hand from my thigh, held mine and slowly placed it under the jacket on his knees. Darling, it was enormous. It was hot. It was hard. I have never held anything so wonderful in my life – you don’t mind me saying that do you? I have to say it because it was so true”. She felt my shudder.

“Oh, my darling” I said, “I want you to have the biggest and the best. You must understand that I will always get my biggest thrill from you getting your thrills. I’m really glad, honestly, that it was so good for you”, I replied in gasps between deep breaths. She tightened her grip on me and cuddled for a moment before going on.

“As soon as I had got a good hold on it, Steve replaced his hand under my skirt and I opened my legs even wider. As I slowly pumped his beautiful cock up and down he inserted his fingers in my cunt and slowly, at first, slid them in and out, occasionally running his thumb round my clit then back in and faster, faster, deeper. I know I came more times though I don’t know how many. I know that he was getting more and more turned on as I felt the hardness throb. Once I ran my thumb over the throbbing head and felt the wet and slippery pre-cum and I put my thumb in my mouth. It tasted SO sweet that I did it often. Steve also kept on putting his hand in his mouth and often in mine as well so that I could taste my own juices. So, I let him taste his own pre-cum as well! We did that for the whole of the film and couldn’t wait until it finished”. She paused, then reached for my cock which was throbbing. She ran her thumb over the head which was leaking my pre-cum and then raised her hand to her mouth and savoured the taste. She didn’t comment on the relative size of our cocks but as I have a perfectly standard one of about 6” I actually wanted her to tell me that it didn’t compare. But she didn’t. Not this time anyway. I waited for her to continue.
“We almost ran back to the car holding hands and as soon as we got in Steve grabbed and kissed me hard. He didn’t have to say anything as I knew what we both wanted. As we drove to the top of Portsdown Hill I reached into his trousers and got his cock out again. I would have loved to have swallowed it as he drove but there just wasn’t the room. We got to one of the quieter car parks on top of the hill near Fort Nelson and found a secluded corner. As soon as the engine stopped he pushed back his seat and I dived onto his enormous prick. I know how you like it. Wet, warm and deep, and that’s how I went down on Steve; and he must have loved it because his groan must have been heard outside the car. As I worked on that lovely cock he, for the first time, was playing with my tits. And he was really good at that as well. Then I was opening my legs with my left knee up in the air so he could get his fingers deep into me. He had no problem there, I don’t think I have ever been so wet. Not even with you, dear”. She kissed me gently and I imagined a smile on her face. My eyes were tight shut as I visualised my darling wife in the little car, mouth around a big cock, legs apart with another man’s fingers thrusting into her cunt.

“I was so turned on by all this that all I could think of was getting fucked”. She hesitated. Then, “But there was no way that we could do it in the front or back of a mini. I closed my legs, removed my mouth from his cock and said to him ‘come on’. I opened the door and got out. I’m afraid I was a real slut darling, but I really wanted his cock in me, to feel it, to get his cum flooding into me. I went to the front of the car, leant forward on the bonnet and pulled up my skirt. Steve didn’t hesitate. I spread my legs wide and felt that wonderful head nuzzle at my cunt then slowly, slowly he pushed in. Then stopped, slowly withdrew then pushed in further, then further, then faster and faster. I could hear him grunt over my squeals as he went deeper and deeper. It seemed like ages but must have only been a few minutes until I felt him stiffen, groan and then I experienced the most wonderful flood of heat deep inside me, a flood that went on and on. I think I may have screamed”

I was now gripping her hard and almost coming myself. I felt her body respond to the memory and her breathing quicken.

“We only had time for a quick rest as we knew we had to get back before you and Hazel got suspicious. Steve didn’t have a handkerchief or tissue so, you don’t mind do you; I sucked him clean. Then we came home”. She exhaled deeply, exhausted as if she had just done it all again, which she had done, at least in her mind, and in my mind too I was shattered as though I had been there watching. After a few minutes as we both lay there I reached over and put on the bedside lamp. Margaret lay on her back and looked up at me, still not really sure about the situation, though I could tell from her breathing and erect nipples she was aroused.

I said nothing but I’m sure my actions made my emotions quite plain. I had a raging erection thrust out in front of me as I lowered myself on to her body. Hesitantly at first she stretched out her arms and drew me to her. I kissed her deeply and hugged tightly.

“I love you” I said. This reassured her, and I felt her body relax. I ran my hands over her body, her breasts, flat stomach and thighs. Then I gently parted her legs. She resisted at first, but I persisted. Slowly they parted and my fingers rested on the sweet fine hairs of her cunt. I gently dipped my finger into the warm wetness that awaited me. She was soaking, not just her cunt juices but I knew that I was feeling Steve’s cum on my fingers. I groaned softly. She stiffened. “What’s the matter?” she asked worriedly. “Darling”, I replied, “I’ve been dreaming of this moment for years. You with another man’s cum in you. I can feel it; I must see it and smell it”. She did resist momentarily as I lowered myself down her body but then relaxed, eyes closed, her head to one side. Then I could smell the heavy aroma of pure sex, mingled juices in her fine blonde matted hair. And I saw the dampness and what I knew was another man’s cum. I buried my head into her cunt before she could stop me, my nose and mouth saturated by those heavenly juices. I couldn’t stop myself lapping gently at her, first outside her cunt, then softly around her swollen lips, then – joy of joys – my tongue entered the Holy of Holies and I knew I was tasting ambrosia. She stiffened under me at first but then relaxed as I gently licked around her button then my tongue entering back deep inside, then sucking the sweet lips. She stiffened again as the feelings and situation hit her. Her body bucked, and I had difficulty holding firm onto her hips with my mouth clamped to her cunt. Slowly she relaxed and, sated, I lifted my body on top of hers. My throbbing cock touched gently at the lips my mouth had just vacated and slowly pushed deep inside her warmth, lubricated by her cunt juices, Steve’s cum and my saliva. Reader, it took no more than a dozen strokes before my cum burst deep inside to add to that divine mixture and I collapsed exhausted on top of my darling wife. We slept in each other’s arms deep and long that night.


Chapter 2

That night saw a change in us both. One of the most positive things was a spicing up of our sex life. In bed we would start off a session with stories from her past. I got her to tell about her experiences with former boyfriends and more casual encounters.
She never had full sex before she met me (that she admitted to anyway) but she certainly got around. Her speciality was, and remains, the blow job, at which she was an expert and unbeknownst to me, well-known for. This was in the early sixties and she was barely sixteen. In those days k**s were neither as liberated nor experienced as they are today. Pregnancy out of wedlock was a massive taboo, there was little or no access to contraception and nice girls just did not do that sort of thing.

Strangely, Margaret never gave me a blow job before we married though I did get to fuck her! She did tell me about sucking the cocks of a rock band in the back of their van one night to get free entry to a gig. And on another occasion at a party she was caught giving simultaneous blow jobs to a pair of brothers. So, she was not quite the nice girl I was led to expect before we got engaged. But it all added spice to our bedtime games.

With Steve’s seagoing commitments and few opportunities to be without his wife there was only one other occasion they got together. Hazel, his wife, had a night out with friends and Steve was left in to babysit. His daughter was only two, so she would be in bed and asleep by the early evening. Margaret was aware that Hazel was going out as they were quite close friends and she must have thought the opportunity too good to miss. I remember her coming and sitting close to me after our k**s had been put to bed and giving me a big sloppy kiss and cuddle. With her legs tucked under her and head resting on my shoulder she looked up at me. “Darling,” she started, “you really enjoyed that time I told you about Steve, didn’t you?” I could hardly deny it; I had got her to repeat it to me several times as a prelude to another frenetic fucking session. “Well, he’s on his own tonight, and I was just wondering…….” She didn’t have to say anything else. “YES PLEASE”, I almost shouted. “Oh yes!”

I made her dress up for the date, not that she took much persuading, I know what men really like so I got her to wear stockings and black panties, bra and sussie under a short skirt and almost-see through top. I persuaded her not to wear too much make up as we certainly didn’t want evidence of the evening to be found by Hazel on her return. Not that she needed make up anyway; her eyes were bright, her lips plumped up and there was a healthy glow about her, all in anticipation of what she hoped was to come. We kissed deeply and with a smile and a mouthed “thank you” she was gone to walk the two doors along the balcony to Steve’s maisonette.

It was just after eight o’clock that she left. We had agreed that she should be back by ten o’clock so as not to be caught. We had also agreed that she was to tell Steve that she had told me she was having coffee with a friend in another block. So started the longest two hours of my life. On the previous date I did not know what to expect and had only hoped that something would happen. This time I knew that as I sat there trying to watch television with my heart pounding and my breath rasping, my young beautiful wife was probably naked being pounded by a stud with a cock she had constantly dreamt about these last few weeks. I incessantly played with my hardened cock but determined to save what I had for later – if it would only come quicker!!! I had several drinks, walked around a bit, and in anticipation got undressed and into my dressing gown. And waited….

The News at Ten was just starting and the chimes fading away when the front door finally opened. She walked in face aglow, an enormous smile on her face. She threw herself into my arms and kissed me deeply. I could smell and taste something in her mouth – and it wasn’t toothpaste. “Quick,” she said, “I’ve something for you”

She dragged me by the hand up to our bedroom and pushed me onto the bed. Facing me, she lifted off her top to expose naked breasts, reddened around the nipples. Then she pushed down her skirt and stepped out of it. She still had on her suspender belt and stockings but no pants. I later discovered that Steve kept the bra and pants as trophies.

“Close your eyes”, she commanded. Reluctant to miss the sights I hesitantly did. I felt her climb on the bed. The next thing I knew my face was covered by wetness, smells, heat and the throbbing of a naked body. I struggled to breathe as I luxuriated in the mixtures before me. I felt her bend forward placing her hands on my hips as she rubbed her damp groin in my face. “I know that this is what you want. That’s THREE loads there” she paused, “and one more in my mouth” she groaned, and from the convulsions I could feel around my mouth I knew she had come. She collapsed into my lap, her head alongside my throbbing cock. Now that she was no longer sitting on my face I could open my eyes and look into the gaping, wet, steaming chasm of her cunt inches from me. I cleaned her enflamed, distended red pussy and licked deep between those red lips, savouring the taste I knew to be the mixed cum of my wife and her lover – yes, her lover; how pleased I was to say that. My wife had a lover! And yet here she was back with me, fucked, swollen, satiated, happy – but with ME.

After a few more minutes of softly brushing, licking and sucking her swollen cunt I gently moved her around to lie in my arms, smoothing her hair and kissed her lips, eyes, cheeks and ears. She murmured her appreciation and sighed deeply.

“Thank you darling, thank you so much. That was the most marvellous night I have ever had”. Her eyes flickered up at me. “You aren’t angry I said that, are you?” she said softly. “You don’t know how much that pleases me.” I replied kissing her gently. “Did he really come in your mouth?” She nodded. “Did you swallow?”

“Of course, don’t I always? Well actually it was his first lot and I hate to say that some actually spilled out – but I did scoop it up and lick it off my fingers. That really turned him on. I enjoyed the taste of him, I really did; warm and almost sweet.” She paused, “I promised him I’d do that again. If I may?” She looked at me.

“Of course you can darling. Try and get home with some in your mouth next time though, so we can both taste him”. She laughed softly and hugged me, then kissed me, her tongue deep in my mouth and I swear I could taste his cum.

“May I fuck you?” I asked. “Be gentle darling, I’m awfully sore, he was so big and strong and hard” she replied quietly.

I gently parted her legs and slipped by cock slowly but determinedly into the warmth and wetness of her cunt. It slipped easily its full length. I have to say that yet again it took little time before I was flooding the depths of her cunt with my seed. As I lay there impaled in her I felt the warmth of my cum slip over my cock and out of her cunt onto the sheets. After a minute or two I withdrew, reached for a tissue and gently wiped her between her still extended thighs. She sighed gently then turned to me, put her arms around my body and slipped into a deep sleep. She was still like that the following morning, whether out of love or to avoid the massive damp patch on her side of the bed I do not know.

To both of our regret that was her last time with Steve. Shortly after he sailed on the Royal Yacht to Australia and we never saw him again. We moved later that year into our first house in Portchester.

Before we left the married quarters however, one more incident of note occurred.

My hobby then, and for many years after, was target shooting, both .22 and full-bore with military weapons (self-loading rifles, 9mm pistols, sub-machine guns) and I was the club secretary, team captain and chief coach. That summer of 1970 I led a team competing in a week-long event featuring all the other naval establishments, available ships and the Royal Marines. I was quite a good shot, county and inter-services level, and I had the benefit of two other very good shots (one went on to international level) in our team of 12. It took a lot of effort and many Saturday mornings to whip the team into shape, but it paid off handsomely when we won the majority of the competitions and the victor ludorum, beating even the Royals. Our ship’s captain was absolutely over the moon; he got plenty of silver for the trophy cabinet and could lord it over his colleagues for a year. In gratitude he took the team to the local pub, put money behind the bar and gave me more to keep the party going. Margaret had come along for the prize-giving having asked friends to look after the k**s and was the only woman there. I have to explain about Margaret and drinking. She has never really drank much, just on the odd occasion and then very little. But when she does she, in those days, went through phases. After a couple she lightens up and is the life and soul of the party, a few more and she slurs her speech somewhat and is “floppy”. More than that and she is practically u*********s. Much later in life she unfortunately added another phase just after the life and soul bit – she became very, very argumentative. But this was then. I, on the other hand, have rarely drunk much. I don’t like not being in control of myself and I also like watching others being stupid. On this occasion we were filling the many trophies with drinks, usually rum and coke which Margaret liked, and passed around many times. I noticed that she drank deeply from the cups and in no time at all she was mightily pissed, swaying and giggling, hanging on to my mates; well out of it. By now it was late in the afternoon, so I suggested that I went to the Off-Licence and spent what was left of the Captain’s money and we would go back to our place to finish the party. Unanimously agreed! I piled the drinks in the boot of the car and Margaret into the back between two of the lads. I knew what was likely to happen and I had angled the rear-view mirror to show the back seat. Margaret, as always, was wearing a short skirt which was riding well up her thighs and she was burbling nonsense and rolling from side to side. I glanced in the mirror and was not at all surprised to see a hand on each exposed thigh. She did not, or maybe could not, move them away and the hands were gently rubbing away, inching ever higher. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I only lived a mile away from the rifle range, so we soon pulled up before the hands disappeared altogether up her skirt. The other cars had arrived (this was before breathalysers were common) and I organised the drinks being taken to our upstairs maisonette. Margaret, I left for the moment, asleep in the back of my car. When drinks were organised and the party re-started I asked one of my mates to give me a hand. We went back down to the car and struggled to get her out; she was practically comatose. “It’s no good,” I said to Archie, “we’ll have to carry her. You get her feet” – which he gladly did. I got her around her arms and between us to carried her up to the upper floor, along the balcony (past a shocked Hazel) and, as I suggested to Archie, up our stairs to put her to bed. Well, actually to just lay her on top of the bed. All the time Archie had more than his eyes full of her thighs and pants and I did detect the bulge in his pants as we lay her on the bed. I thanked him for his help and told him to grab a drink, I would sort her out. And sort her out I did. I undid her blouse and slipped off her bra, then raised skirt over her hips to expose her groin. She stirred only slightly during all this. I left her pants on, though I did part her legs, raising one knee. I went to the door and looked back checking her out. She lay with tits exposed and the crutch of her pants stretched over her cunt for all to see. I “forgot” to fully close the door and went downstairs.

The party was in full swing and I was asked how Margaret was. I said that she was well and truly pissed and I had left her getting undressed to get into bed to sleep it off so we were free to enjoy ourselves. First, though, I had to see our neighbour who was looking after the k**s and ask them if they could mind them until 7.00 which she agreed to do.

When I got back there was a certain buzz about the room. To get to the toilet you had to pass our bedroom and I’m sure that some had already felt the need to go and seen what I had left on show. There were obviously some very weak bladders in that room that day. I made a show of getting pissed myself but actually hardly had anything. I was enjoying myself too much watching my mates spending ages upstairs and coming down flushed. Much later most of the team were totally pissed and I took the opportunity to follow one up the stairs, ever so quietly, stopping halfway up to look through the bannister. His back was to me, standing next to our bed. He stood still for a minute then I saw his left hand reach forward. As his concentration was obviously elsewhere I took the opportunity to creep up the stairs, any noise I may have made would be drowned by the music and hubbub from downstairs. I slowly inched along the landing and peered around the door. He was oblivious to me, far too busy stroking Margaret’s thigh slowly upwards until his hand was resting on her panties, pressing gently. Getting no response from my almost-naked u*********s wife and emboldened I saw him withdraw his hand, bring his fingers up to his mouth then I watched as his fingers hooked into the white material of her pants and slowly pull it away from her fair-hair covered cunt. He paused for just a bit longer before rubbing his wet fingers up and down between her lips, occasionally slipping into the warm depths. Margaret’s gentle moan caused us both to stop still but she made no further move. After a moment he continued the gentle rubbing and dipping. I saw his right hand reach towards his groin and heard the zip lower. The movement of his right arm was enough to tell me that he was wanking at the sight of my wife and the feel of her cunt. I, too, was throbbing hard at the sight. After a couple of minutes, he threw his head back and grunted. He had come. I quickly stood back and went into one of the k**’s bedrooms, closing the door behind me. I listened intently at the door until I heard the footsteps going down. Pausing a minute, I left the small bedroom and entered ours, closing the door behind me. What a sight. Margaret lay there flat out on her back, legs apart, one knee raised. Her pants had not quite returned to cover her, and a set of labia lips were visible to one side. And there was cum over her thighs and the bedcover. Moreover, I’m sure there was more than just the one load. I tentatively touched the drops on her inner thigh and rubbed into her flesh. I must admit I was tempted to lick her legs clean but I worried about the door opening with another drunken sailor wanting to cop a feel. With a final look at her, I retreated out of the bedroom and closed the door. Time to draw the party to a close. I flushed the toilet as my alibi and re-joined the party, slowly winding it down

When the last one had reluctantly left saying it was the best time they had ever had I shut the front door and went back upstairs. Margaret lay as she had previously but now it was me that ran my hand up her thigh and slipped my fingers into her cunt. Even u*********s she responded to my touch with little grunts and murmurs. I couldn’t help but lie between her thighs and draw in the deep aroma between her legs, then gently lick between her labia. And yes, I did clean up her thighs.

Then we moved.


Chapter 3

We got on the housing market by buying a small terraced house in Portchester at the wrong time in the price cycle so ending up paying over the top. If we’d bought just 12 months earlier, we’d have paid less than half we eventually did.

The expenses we now had, mortgage and rates, meant that it was necessary for Margaret to go out to work. Fortunately, a few doors away lived Lil, the widow of an abusive and alcoholic ex-matelot, who lived with her son Bernard. He was, for a time anyway, in the Navy as well. Unfortunately for him he got caught in a homosexual ring based on the Royal Yacht (small world!!) and after six months in the military prison at Colchester he was thrown out. But that’s another story. His mother, Lil, became the nanny that our two c***dren didn’t really have, their real ones living many miles away and who we rarely saw. Lil was more than happy to look after our k**s and earn a few extra pounds to supplement her pension so Margaret could work while I was away. So she got a job as a barmaid at the Mecca in Portsmouth, working from eight in the evening until one in the morning. Now I have to say that she was perfect for that job; she worked hard, she looked great, she flirted with customers and she got lots of tips. When I was away Lil would stay at our house until she got back home in the early hours. Margaret used to work with another woman, Moira, who lived close by us and they took turns each driving into Portsmouth. When home I used to go for a drink with her husband, Alf. It was during one of these sessions that he dropped a bombshell. He told me that on many occasions his wife and Margaret had been followed home by another car which parked up around the corner from our house. After this had happened a couple of times Moira, instead of walking down the road to her house, hid and watched. Margaret went into the house and then Lil left and walked the three doors to hers. After a short time, she saw a man she recognised as a Mecca regular called Colin come around the corner and enter through the open doorway of my house. She was positive that this happened regularly. I was stunned at the news. Not for the reason Alf thought but because she had never mentioned Colin to me at all. Quite the opposite, she had said that she put all games on hold while I was away.

This was the worst sort of unfaithfulness to me. It wasn’t that she betrayed me sexually because she knew she could fuck any man she wanted with my blessing – as long as I knew about it. No, this must be more than sex, she was being unfaithful to our marriage and our relationship.

I got home early that night from a shooting match and let Lil go home, then waited for Margaret. She arrived in the early hours as usual. Recently she had been going in her own car all the time rather than share with Moira. I now knew why, Moira disapproved of her doing what she was doing and wanted no part of it. I also suspected that without Moira and access to our house Margaret may be having a little play with this Colin before coming home. And I was right.

Margaret was quite surprised that I was still awake and up when she got in, and even more surprised when, having hardly had time to remove her coat, I held her and ran my hands up her legs to encounter a very wet cunt indeed. At least she still had pants on though.

“Colin?” I asked. This startled her, that I knew his name. I knew I was right from the look on her face. “It was just the once tonight,” she lied which really got me angry. We had a blazing row, or rather I did. She couldn’t really say anything being caught out as she was. I demanded to know why she didn’t tell me – she didn’t have to ask me for permission, she knew I would have given that. She had no answer other than it just happened, she liked it and she didn’t want to share it. This was a selfish side of Margaret that I later became very aware of and which has been a major contribution to our relationship not being as good as it could be. Also, I now had doubts that Steve was her first. Maybe she had had many affairs and only asked if she could go out with Steve because it was her only chance with him that way. I felt that things could never be the same again. But I still fancied her and we had two k**s to think of. One side of me wanted to take her to bed and fuck her loaded cunt but in the end the other side won, and I slept downstairs.

I made her give up her job at the Mecca as I could no longer trust her to stop seeing Colin, or any other man she took a fancy too. Not that I didn’t want her to fuck around still but I could not be sure that she would tell me about it and allow me my share of the fun. She ended up doing an 8 till 4 job in the office at Britax just down the road, hopefully with fewer temptations while I was away.

It was about this time that I decided that I should also play around. Up until then I had been faithful despite the many temptations put in the way of us matelots in foreign ports but after the incident with Colin I saw no reason to continue my fidelity.

Sometime later we went to a party and I was particularly struck by one girl, Pat. She too was blonde, also about Margaret’s height, slightly chunkier than my wife’s slim frame but by no means plump. I was fascinated by her energy as she danced, swinging around and flashing her pants (burgundy, I remember them well). It was one of those things; she noticed my attention and frequently returned my gaze. You do know when you’ve made a hit. She was married to a submariner Petty Officer I knew well, though this was the first time I had met her. We bumped into each other during the party and made small talk at first, then I plucked up the courage (I am actually very shy) to ask if she fancied meeting up for a drink one day. Gladly, she was very enthusiastic and suggested the following Monday in Lee on Solent. Of course, I agreed.

At that time, I was in between courses at HMS Collingwood and because of my shooting I was given the temporary job of Gunnery Instructor which involved very little other than taking the ceremonial guard each morning. This involved an early start to drill them before Divisions on the parade ground at 08:00. After a warm up I would fall them in at the top of the parade ground at ease waiting for Divisions to start. This had the benefit of watching cars come onto base and I was able to see Pat’s husband coming each morning so on the Monday, I knew he was not at home with her that day. After divisions I would fall out the guard and the rest of the day was generally my own – and I was allowed to leave base.

So that Monday I finished my duties and left to meet Pat at a Café in Lee at 10:00. We chatted for some time finding that we did indeed like each other, at least enough to take it further as she suggested I take her for a drive, not a long one, just to the car park at Hill Head. We were soon kissing and petting somewhat heavily and I got my hand in her blouse and under her skirt where I was pleased to find a very responsive cunt. After a bout of teenage-style groping she stopped me.

“This is uncomfortable, come home with me”. Home was just a quarter of a mile away, a very pleasant semi in a new estate. Submariners get paid considerably more than us “skimmers”.

She led me up the stairs to their bedroom and quickly, almost shyly, undressed. She was just ever so slightly tending to plump with pendulous breasts and was a natural blonde as I noted from her trimmed bush. I was still in the act of undressing when she sat on the bed, pulled me towards her, released my cock and filled her mouth with it. Her mouth was wet and warm and the feeling of her tongue gently touching me ahead the head of my cock was exquisite. Occasionally she managed the whole length in her mouth, her tongue licking the deep vein at the bottom of my cock, then withdrawing back to the head, sometimes tonguing the pre-cum from the little hole from whence it leaked.

She stopped then lay back on the bed and as I finished undressing I saw her hands reach to her groin and, opening her legs wide, she played with herself, rubbing herself frantically up and down her cunt. Her breathing was loud and rapid, her eyes were closed, and her breasts heaved invitingly. I felt that I should be eating her cunt for here in repayment for the excellent blow job I had received but I think we were both too far gone for further foreplay, so I climbed onto the bed, positioned myself between her legs and pushed into the inviting target. She was gratifyingly wet and warm and took me easily, her legs lifting and clamping around my waist. I felt good and in control. Slowly I thrust in and out of her, deeper each time. Then, when fully in I withdrew and plunged back hard and fast, paused and repeated. I was really trying hard to please, firstly by not cumming too soon then by judging her response and reacting accordingly. It must have worked, she was grunting, heaving, writhing under me. I came and gushed into her then an incredible thing happened, something that had never happened to me before and after Pat didn’t happen again for thirty years. She squirted. I felt a torrent of warmth and wetness envelope my cock, my balls, my stomach. She was shuddering and moaning, her head to one side, a fist in her mouth. I was stunned; never had I had a girl react like this with me before.

In my naivety I had never heard of squirting, but I have since googled it and now know that it is a rare response to the sex act though researchers are not yet sure what it really is. Some think it is a mixture of vaginal lubrication and urine, others think its source is elsewhere. All I know is that it is amazing to experience, and especially to be the cause of that event.

After we both subsided and lay there in each other’s arms Pat sounded embarrassed and tried to apologise for what was one of my life’s better memories. I soon put her at ease and told her how amazing I had found the whole experience and would love to repeat it. Which we did.

Our games lasted for a few months but eventually I started a course and never again had the opportunity of slipping away during the daytime. But the memories of that amazing little blonde will stay with me always.

Chapter Four

Even with my new regular “bit on the side” I was still thinking of my particular obsession. I was regularly reading the Fiesta, a very popular men’s magazine of that period. Besides pictures of naked models, it had a section called “Reader’s Wives” where men sent pictures of their wives or girlfriends (or both) in various stages of undress. Also included was a letters section and articles on various subjects. A much recurring theme was the desire of writers to watch their wives being fucked, a subject dear to my heart. I was obviously not alone in this fantasy as it was by far the most common topic in the letters section. I would get the magazine each month and drive off to a secluded spot to avidly read these “wife-watcher” letters and gaze at real women – the reader’s wives – rather than plastic posers. Inevitably, this would lead to a bout of energetic wanking.

But could I trust Margaret again? She was working days and I was home most nights, so she had little opportunity to play her games. Our sex life had slowly improved after our falling out and I occasionally got her to recount details of past fucks with other men to add spice to our fun. Then an opportunity arose which kick-started things in that direction again.

If a naval officer was ambitious for promotion it was expected that he undertook some voluntary work in his own time. I was the secretary of the small-bore rifle club and we shot matches in several leagues, civilian, naval and inter-service. As a chairman we had a Lieutenant Commander who benefitted from a purely nominal role but with the kudos of being associated with a very successful club. Having said that it was nominal I have to say that Chris was very supportive of us and I got to know him well. He had some time previously had a very messy divorce which made him bitter to women in general, so much so that he set up a national organisation for divorced men and even appeared on television from time to time bemoaning the bias that courts showed to men. I was soon to discover that he wasn’t a total misogynist.

One day we went to a prize-giving where the team, and me as an individual, received a plethora of pots. I was feted by our club members and our opponents alike and for once I drank just a bit too much. Margaret also had had too many to risk driving so Chris volunteered to drive us both home, pick me up in the morning and then bring me back for my car in time to get to work. I distinctly remember falling into the hedge outside our house as I was helped in and sat down in an armchair. Margaret, a bit tiddly and in the giggly phase of intoxication went and made coffee for herself and Chris while I fell asleep. She had always liked Chris and felt sorry for him having heard his experiences with his ex.

Something must have aroused me a short time later and I heard noises, whispering.

I slowly opened my eyes and saw Chris and Margaret kissing. They kissed for a short while and then I saw Chris’s hand moving up under her skirt, between her legs. She moaned against his mouth and opened her legs just a little to give him a bit more freedom to work.

He broke the kiss and asked her if she would like to go into the bedroom?

She hit him on the arm and said, "No, I can’t do that."

"How about we take a ride over to my house? Mike will never know, and I’ll bring you back before morning."

Again, she told him no, that she wasn't going anyplace.

Chris said, "Fine, I like it here on the sofa anyway," and went back to kissing her.
By now one hand was playing with her left breast and the other made it up under her dress to her bare leg above her stockings. As his hand was rubbing her leg just inches from her crotch he came across the strap of the suspender belt that was holding her stockings up.

He broke the kiss again and asked her if she was wearing a garter belt?
With all the drink she had consumed and with his fingers obviously having quite some effect by this point, she moaned that yes she was and did he like it?

I heard Chris give the strap a little snap and said, "God yes I like. There's nothing sexier than a girl wearing a garter belt and stockings."

Just then Chris moved his finger right up to the wet crotch of her panties. She moaned, "Mmmmm," in his mouth as they started kissing again. He was running his fingers up and down her wet cunt right through her lace panties. His other hand was still on her breast and was now rolling her hard nipple around right through her dress and bra.

Then Chris whispered that he needed to get her out of her dress.

In an instant he had the zipper down on the back of her dress then pushed it off her shoulders fully exposing her bra.

She looked over at me and I quickly closed my eyes and made grunting, snoring noises. When I thought it safe to do so I slowly peeked again thinking she would be putting a stop to this very shortly with me in the room. But Chris was now pulling on the hem of her dress.

Then to my surprise she raised herself up and let Chris remove her dress and slip. He then moved her around so she was more or less laid out on the sofa flat on her back with him next to her.

Chris leaned over her and started kissing her again as his hand slid down her belly. His hand made its way down to her panties and slipped right inside the waistband. His fingers made their way down over her mound and obviously came into contact with her clitoris. She moaned and rocked her hips up to his fingers.

Chris moaned also, as he sank one or two fingers inside her wet cunt. He was running his fingers deep inside of her and then pulling them out, rubbing her juices all over her clit.

Chris unhooked her little bra and her breasts sprang free for him to view. She at first tried to cover her breasts but Chris quickly moved her arms out of the way and sucked one of her erect nipples right into his mouth. He then started taking turns sucking and kissing one nipple then the other.

She softly moaned out, "OH GOD!" and held Chris’s head to her breast and was working her hips up and down in time with his finger fucking.

She pushed her hips up in the air and I’m convinced she started cumming on Chris’s fingers. He kept playing with her clit as she kept cumming and cumming judging by the a****l noises she was making.

There was a bit of a pause as she slowly subsided. Then I saw Chris bend forward and kissed her belly.

Then he hooked his fingers around the waistband of her little black lace panties. Slowly he started pulling them down. Again, just like with the dress she raised her hips up off the sofa to help him remove her panties. I almost went through the roof when I saw Chris’s hot tongue run up the full length of her wet slit.

Chris was now finger fucking her as he licked her cunt lips and sucking on her clit. I was going out of my mind as I watched her hold his head tight to her wet groin.

I’m sure she came again, as she raised her hips hard into his face and groaned. She looked him in the eyes and said, "Oh my god that was so good."

Chris, ever the gentleman, then said, "Can I make love to you?" She nodded yes.

Chris laid the bottom of his hard cock right down on her wet lips. She was so wet his cock could slide up and down her slit very easily. Very slowly Chris began rocking his hips, sliding his cock up and down her cunt. With each upward stroke the bottom of his cock was rubbing her clit. I could tell that it felt good by her gasps and closed eyes. His cock then sank in between the lips as they went about half way around his cock during his sliding action. The head of his cock moved up deep in her cunt and would pop out right below her clit. Then it would continue on up rubbing her clit in a way that was unreal to watch and I’m sure to feel

I think she was on the brink of another orgasm and as she pushed upwards against his thrusts Chris’s hot cock sank deep inside her. She let out a loud, "OH MY GOD!!" as it sank deep inside her again.

I don’t know how I contained myself. All I knew was that my wife was cumming with another man's hard cock buried deep inside of her and I was at last watching. Chris was now holding her legs straight up in the air as he was driving his cock in her hard and fast, right in front of me, her husband.

In a very short time Chris pushed deep inside and his body shuddered, OH FUCK YES!" And he was filling her with his hot sperm. I’m sure that Margaret did her best to milk every last drop of his cum with her cunt lips.

After a few more jerks Chris had emptied all his hot seed deep inside her, then panting and out of breath he fell down on top of her and they locked into a hot hard kiss.

Chris broke the kiss and said, "Margaret that was the best fuck I’ve ever had."

Chris got up from between her legs and stood next to the sofa. His cock made that wet suction sound as it popped out of her. This was the first time that I got a good look at his cock. It was maybe two inches longer than mine; making it maybe 8 or 9 inches long when it was hard. Now I knew why it felt so good for her when he was fucking her.

Chris now got dressed and leant over Margaret kissing her on the lips and giving her tits a final squeeze. “I’ll be back in the morning to take Mike back to his car. And thanks”.

I kept my eyes closed tight as she let him out, returned to gather her clothes and make her way up to bed, leaving me to my own devices. After I was sure that she was in bed I quickly undressed and moved over to the sofa and lay on the spot where I had watched my wife perform spectacularly. I could feel the damp patch under my arse where his and her juices had leaked. I held my erect cock and stroked it. Then the door opened and Margaret was standing there.

“What are you doing”, she said, “as if I didn’t know”

I was speechless, not knowing what to say. “Come on up to bed and I’ll let you play with me and fuck me. That is, if you want to”, she said

Five minutes later I was between her legs driving into the wet passage prepared for me by another man – and loving it.

The outcome of this was that I agreed she could have boyfriends again on the condition she told me all about the sex with them.

And Chris, true to his word, picked me up at seven o’clock in the morning. He told me that he had enjoyed his night and we must go for a drink again soon.

Chapter 5

It was time again for me to go back to sea. I was drafted to HMS Falmouth, a general purpose frigate happily Portsmouth based so when we weren’t at sea at least I could get home at night – usually. Some ships are happy, others not. Luckily the Falmouth was one of the happy ones and I really enjoyed by two years on her. I was in charge of the maintenance of the radar and sonar but being one of nature’s volunteers I was soon on the ship’s welfare committee, running the recreational radio on board and producing the ship’s newspaper.

Previously in my married life I had been very faithful, never having played around at all; generally, because I was too busy fantasising about Margaret and her lovers. However, now that I had had some experiences in that way and because I knew that she had been less than truthful and, it appeared, would have no hesitation in shagging around again with or without my knowledge I decided that it was time for me to play. In my life I have never actually instigated an affair with any women. This is probably down to shyness and fear of rejection. Physically I am nothing special to look at, just 5’8” though fairly well built and I have always been fit, working out, jogging, badminton, squash etc. It has often happened, however, that a woman has taken a shine to me for whatever reason and I was now determined to take whatever advantage of the situation I could.

Our first port of call was the town of Falmouth as a courtesy visit. As was usual the liaison officer went ahead and organised girls to bring on board for socials in the Wardroom, the Chiefs’ mess and the Petty Officers’ messes. The officers usually got nurses and the rest of us whatever was left. On this occasion the Chiefs’ mess entertained some girls from K.P. Morritt’s which was the town’s biggest employer. This company made fishing reels and was very big in the sixties and seventies. Unable to compete with Japanese imports it closed down shortly after.

I was the youngest chief in the mess at that time and in some ways different from the rest of the “roughie, toughie, hairy-arsed matelots”. I had been educated at a very good grammar school in the North of England learning Latin and Greek amongst other subjects, nothing so crude as woodwork of course, played rugby rather than football and did the Times and Telegraph crosswords for amusement. Most importantly, I was taught how to be a gentleman by my father, an ex-naval officer himself. I think that veneer of poshness has stood me in good stead on many occasions and indeed this was just such a one. I met Lynette. She was just 19 and later said she was attracted to me because all the rest in the mess” were old” and I talked nice - she talked with a broad Cornish accent or “Janner” as we said in the Navy. I was very impressed with her looks though; brunette, slim, no more than a mouthful of tit – just how I like them. To cut a long story short we ended up in the Grove Hotel in town. Young she may have been but inexperienced she was not. I hardly got a wink of sleep trying to tame her insatiable appetite for cock and kisses. I remember a large white bath towel being saturated with juices as we wiped each other off before another bout of sucking and fucking. I think I stood it up against the wall before I left! Ah, the endurance of youth.

Not many women look better undressed than dressed sadly, but Lynette was one of the few. After a long night I had to get back on board and I was to leave her to have breakfast and make her own way home which fortunately was close by. But I was unable to close the door behind me without slamming it which would have gone down well in a small hotel at 6 o’clock on a Sunday morning. So Lynette climbed out of bed and walked towards me totally, adorably, beautifully naked to close the door behind me. I treasure that sight even to this day 40 years later. One worry I did have though is that we did not use any precautions whatsoever and I never knew if she was on the pill or not.

Another UK port we visited before sailing far away was Southend. This time we were invited to the local police station and were well entertained with free booze, guided around the best night spots and even rides back to the ship in those taxis with blue flashing lights. Naturally we reciprocated the following night. One of our guests was an enormous detective constable with that air of repressed brutality that some of them have. He was accompanied by his wife and what a contrast. She was very petite, brunette with a lovely smile and freckles around her eyes and high cheekbones. Despite knowing that she was coming on a warship she was wearing a very short skirt indeed. Her husband was enjoying many pints of our CSB (Courage Sparkling Bitter – the standard beer in Senior Rates messes, very tasty and deceptively strong) then turned to me and said, “Babs has been looking forward to a guided tour. Don’t forget to show her the golden rivet”. He roared with laughter. I asked her if she would like a look round and she nodded, so off we went. I was looking forward to following her up the many ladders we have on-board and soon I was having more than my fair share of panties as she climbed ahead of me. Other sailors I passed also watched her with some admiration and a lot of envy.

Falmouth was only a small ship so the tour didn’t take long. We ended up in one of my radar offices and I was explaining the workings of the 993 surface radar when she suddenly asked me where the golden rivet was and when could she see it. I told her gently that it was a joke, there was no real golden rivet. It was a euphemism for a sailor’s private parts. She dimpled and looked down. “Yes, I know, but I want to see it”.

A nod being as good as a wink I put my arms around her and kissed her. Her tongue probed my mouth and she put her arms around my neck. I put my hand under her top and lifted her bra to squeeze her lovely tits and twiddle her nipples. Suddenly she pulled away, dipped down and pulled off her panties, throwing them on the floor behind me. Now, radar offices do not come equipped with beds or sufficient worktop spaces to lay down a beautiful writhing woman. Minutes later we were against a bulkhead, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck, her legs locked behind my back, our lips crushed together and with me thrusting in and out of a very welcoming, soaking vagina. Fortunately, there is always a lot of background noise on a ship else her stifled cries, groans and grunts would have awakened the Watch on Deck!

It had been a few weeks since I had last cum so the flood was not unexpected by me but boy, did she welcome it with a cry as it shot into her hospitable body. Her legs tightened their grip before they slowly relaxed and she slid to the floor holding on to my neck for support.

It was some while before I could take her back to the mess and her husband, so flushed was she in the immediate aftermath of our fucking. I’m fairly certain he had a good idea what we had been up to though; I imagined he got her to tell him all about it later in bed, then perhaps he went down and licked out the remains of my cum from between those gorgeous legs.

The following night the ballroom at the end of the pier went up in flames so we had to cut the trip short. Shortly after we set sail for foreign parts, a trip of some six months duration. I am sure that Margaret would not be celibate and I had no intention of being so either.

First port of call was Gibraltar. In those days it was still a major naval port with ships and garrisons permanently based there, so our visit did not excite much comment or offers of hospitality. There was an incident of note however, concerning my petty officer.

Danny was the diametric opposite to me as far as personality goes, very outgoing and absolutely determined to fuck anything that moved. Nothing much to look at but he did have a way with women! His philosophy was that statistics show that 5% of women randomly selected would fuck a stranger as long as there were no repercussions. So all he had to do was to ask twenty women. His chat up line was, “Before I spend my time and money on yo