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This story is copyright 2000 by Adam Gunn. All Rights Reserved. The Sailor's Wife |
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Perspiration glistened on her twenty-five year young body, and a sip of beer refreshed her as it slid coolly down her throat. Stephanie tried to think about something, anything other than the loneliness and frustration of the separation from her husband. He adored her and would eagerly do anything for her. But how could he give her what she needed when he was at sea? The immense aircraft carrier wouldn't be back from practice runs for another week.
Stephanie had plenty of practice being a sailor's wife. Two years at Mare Island began to teach patience when he didn't come home every fourth night, standing guard over school buildings and barracks that no one would ever bother to attack. During the first cruise she'd gone back to the Midwest to live with her mother, a frustrating experience during which she realized, for the first time, that she was a girl no longer, but a woman with mature needs and desires. During Glenn's second cruise she stayed out in California, living in an old apartment building near Lake Merritt next to another wife. Lenore was fun, and they'd assuaged the temptations of being alone by constantly checking up on each other. But then her friend's husband was discharged, and Stephanie lost her girlfriend, confidant and chaperone. Now Stephanie lived in a much more modern apartment, but the lack of company was driving her nuts. She looked around the beach in hopes of finding a diversion. Women like her sunning themselves. Were they also waiting for their husbands to return from the sea? A volleyball game played by bronzed youths. A frisbee landing in the tiny waves of the Bay retrieved by a Labrador. A solitary youth in cut-offs, patrolling the beach, long brown hair tumbling down his back. Would Glenn look good in long hair? Even if the Navy would allow him to go unshorn, would he let it grow to please her? The man, or was he a boy, checked her out and then moved on down the beach. She didn't mind, the ritual was part of the beach scene, and she knew the yellow bikini showed off her best feature, long legs on a five foot ten frame. She had full breasts, not too large, and some men's glances lingered there, pondering the flesh beneath the bra. Most men never got up as far as the face framed by long brunette hair, a little stringy, with a long and pointed nose that she hated. If they bothered to talk to her, most of the time she just flashed her ring finger at them, and they'd move on. Damn, the next year was going to be hard. Glenn would be back for a few weeks, but then he'd be gone again for nine months as the ship voyaged 14,000 miles across the Pacific to launch bomb-laden airplanes over the jungles of Southeast Asia. Would this war ever be over? But soon after the deployment, Glenn's term of service would be finished. After four and a half years, she could hold out another fourteen months, couldn't she? The guy in cut-offs, now a hundred yards away, turned and started back. She enjoyed his trim silhouette against the glint of sunlight. He was really young, she could tell now. Stephanie remembered how Glenn treated her when they had first started making love in the summer after she graduated. When they got the chance, they did it over and over again, sometimes three or four times in a single hour. She didn't have the experience to appreciate the attention then. Now, it was all changed. Didn't they say that a woman's sexual peak was in her mid-twenties? Just because her husband wasn't around didn't mean she didn't have desires. Quite the opposite, in fact. She recalled with shame how just last month she had sampled illicit relief. What had she been thinking? A Friday night, and isolation had driven her to a bar a few blocks away. A good-looking guy bought her a second rum and coke, and then a third. Dancing to the beat of the jukebox, he tried to hold her intimately. She knew she had, unintentionally she was sure, given him some hope. After the fourth drink, she told him she had to go home, and when he insisted on driving her, she didn't resist very hard. She let him kiss her in the car, and then she took his hand and led him up the stairs to the apartment. Somehow, she was a little surprised when she was naked and lying on her back, the first time she'd been with a man other than Glenn. She wasn't even sure she had an orgasm, but that wasn't extraordinary. Most of the time with Glenn she didn't come either. After the guy drank a beer, he escaped into the night, clutching her phone number, but of course he never called. Just as well, she lamented. For a few days, she tried to tell herself that she was drunk, that she'd been raped, but she knew it was a lie. She'd had, deep inside her that night, a need to get laid, and she'd walked to the bar subconsciously wishing for it. In the following days, remorse made her ill. For the first time in months she fled to the confessional, promising the hidden priest she wouldn't ever do it again, and returning the next day for Mass. She dreaded her husband's return, sure that with one glance he'd detect her adultery. In the end, she'd been able to act naturally, showering him with consideration, baking his favorite cake, letting him choose the movie, and even giving him the unusual treat of a blowjob.
Suddenly she heard a voice say "Hi," shocking her out of daydream. It was the good looking kid, returning from his inspection of the seashore. Damn, he probably caught her staring at him. "Hi yourself," she smiled, and he sat down in the warm sand beside her. "My name's Chuck." "Stephanie. My friends call me Steph." His pick up lines were niave, and she figured he was still in High School. She decided not to blow him off, to let him stay. Just someone to talk to. He watched her as she raised the beer to her lips and took a long swallow. "That looks good." "It is," she responded. She got the last two bottles of Olympia out of the cooler, pried the caps off, and handed one to him. She could tell from his tentative manner of swigging the beer that he wasn't used to drinking, at least not in public. Despite his youth, he was likeable, and Stephanie appreciated the company. He really was handsome, and the firmness of his young body aroused her. The John Lennon glasses were pretty sexy, too. If he were a few years older, and she was single, what would happen, she wondered? Chuck guzzled his beer while Steph sipped hers. By the time she was done, the late afternoon wind through the Golden Gate was beginning to chill the sweat on their bodies. It was time to leave, but the idea of another lonely night spent by herself depressed her. "Want another beer?" she asked. "Sure." "We'll have to go to my place. It's about five miles away. Do you mind?" Nothing was going to happen, she was sure. He was just going to be company. "Okay. I've got nothing going." Chuck gathered the beach towel, cooler, and romance paperback while Steph slipped into her cover-up. On the way to the car, Chuck picked up a T-shirt and a pair of tennis shoes. Stephanie unlocked the red VW bug, got behind the wheel, and leaned over to let Chuck into the passenger seat. She realized, too late, that he had gotten a pretty good view down her bra. The idea that he might have even seen a nipple sort of thrilled her. Oh, well, no harm done. A U turn, and they were soon passing through the Webster Tunnels and up into the McArthur district. "How old are you, Chuck?" she asked. "Sixteen," he responded without hesitation. It might be true. "Won't your parents be worried about you?" "Naw. Lots of nights I don't come home till late. I've got a job at the Dairy Queen. My mom figures I'm over there." East on Lincoln and a sharp turn onto a residential street lined with two story apartments. Stephanie pulled into a carport, led the young man up the outside stairs, and opened the door. "Listen, get us a beer out of the fridge. I'm gonna put some clothes on, okay?" She went into the bedroom, stripped off the swimsuit and donned panties, shorts, and a sweatshirt. When she returned to the living room, she found Chuck sitting on the couch sipping beer. She sat down beside him, but not too close. "This is great. Listen, do you have an old man or anything?" The wedding photographs were hanging on the wall, and a pair of Glenn's shoes were still underneath the end table. "Yeah, he's in the Navy, on a ship." "Is he in 'Nam?" "He will be soon." "Bummer." Steph changed the subject, asking Chuck about his school. As he described the intricacies of math, social studies, and cross-country running, she thought about how he was similar to Glenn. A little self-centered, but slightly shy, too. She decided she liked him. The evening breeze swept through the open window, and Stephanie realized she was chilly. She felt gritty with the remnants of the sand and salt water on her body. "Listen, I'm going to take a bath," she said. "Is that okay?" "Sure." She left him with instructions to help himself to another beer if he wanted, entered the bathroom, and filled the tub with water as hot as she could stand it. She relaxed and let her thoughts wander again to the other guy, three weeks before. Now that she was in private, she let her fingers wander through her pubic hair and play with her clitoris. When her breathing grew shallower and quicker, she knew that instead of her finger, she wanted, she needed a man to fill her. Wouldn't it be nice if the California Adonis in her living room would storm in to take her? A knock came on the door, disturbing her fantasy, echoing abruptly in the confined room. "Yes?" "Are you okay?" Well, talk about timing. "Do you need anything?" "The rest of my beer would be nice. I left it on the coffee table." "I'll get it for you." "Okay." The footsteps padded away. She thought about his solid thighs and gorgeous hair. His young ass would be really firm, wouldn't it? Dare she consider actually doing it? He was underage! So what, no one would ever know. He didn't come knocking on the door just to see how she was; he wanted to find out if she'd let him into the bathroom, and into her bed. What about her husband? Right now, she didn't care; she could hide it from him. A few seconds later the door cracked open, "I'll just leave it on the floor, okay?" The moment of truth. Was she really going to let this happen? What if she was imagining things, if he really was just trying to be a nice guy? She reached for a towel, and used it to cover herself. "No, bring it in, would you? It's okay." He entered the steamy bathroom and his glasses fogged up. He took them off and stumbled over to the tub. Stephanie was sure he really couldn't see much of anything. She stretched her arm out and caught his leg, letting him know where she was, and accepted the offered bottle.
"No, not a steady one." he replied huskily. "You play the field, huh? Do the girls let you kiss them?" "Yeah, sometimes." "How about touching them? Do they let you do that?" "One girl did. Just her tit, through the bra." "You liked that, didn't you?" He nodded, and placed the glasses back on his face. She could tell he was trying not to look at her, and he licked his lips as if his mouth was dry. Was he shy, or inexperienced? "Chuck, have you ever seen a naked woman?" "Just in pictures. Like in Playboy." "Did you ever try to sneak a peak?" "My older sister once. Gee, that sounds dirty. I mean, she was in her bedroom, and the door was open, and I got a look at her in the mirror. She just had panties on. When she caught me, she yelled and shut the door. If my folks were home, I'd have really caught it. Later she sort of teased me about it, told me she'd let me look if I gave her a buck." "You didn't take her up on it?" "Nah. She's my sister, after all." "Listen, why don't you come in and join me. There's plenty of room." "You mean, take a bath with you?" "Sure, come on." "Okay, yeah, sure. I'd like that. Should I keep my pants on, or what?" "Haven't you ever been skinny dipping? No, I guess you don't have a lot of chances to do that out here, do you? It's no big deal. Take your clothes off and come on in."
It was sort of funny, the way he was trying to look at the ceiling, at the wall, anything but her. Here he was, with the first woman he'd ever had a chance at, and he didn't have a clue what to do. "You okay?" she asked. "Yeah, I will be in a second. It's just a little strange, that's all." "Sure, I understand. You've never done this before. Listen, it's okay if you look at me. I don't mind." He turned toward her, and gazed first at the breasts, taking in the suntan lines and dark brown aureoles, and then further down, attempting to discern the dark brown pubic hairs distorted by the ripples, and the pinkness they hid. "Enjoying it?" she whispered. "You're beautiful." "I'll bet you say that to all the girls." Stephanie leaned forward, scooped water in her hand, and poured it onto his shoulder. "Feels good, huh?" "Yeah." She put her hand on his neck, caressing it. She figured he'd grab her, kiss her, do something, but he just sat there, looking at her, not knowing what she expected of him. She tried to guide him closer. "You know, they do this all the time in Japan," she said. "They actually wash each other. Would you like me to wash you?" "Yeah, that'd be really great." Steph took the bar of soap and began to lather first his shoulders, then his arms, and hairless chest. Under the water, she rubbed his legs and then moved her hands to his sack and rod. Letting the soap drop to the bottom, she massaged his tool, enjoying the softness of the skin and playing with the circumcised head. Chuck leaned back, closed his eyes, and Steph saw the bath water begin to mix with the milky fluid seeping from the tip. Chuck groaned in pleasure, and Stephanie realized she didn't mind. At that age, he'd be ready to go again in just a few minutes, and he'd last longer the next time. As the pumping motions of his prick grew weaker, she leaned forward and placed her mouth upon his, injecting her tongue between his lips and tasting the sweetness of his breath. He kissed back, greedily, and for the first time allowed his hands to touch her breasts, fondling her boobies. When it was obvious he was over his excitement, she broke the kiss and said, "I liked that. I'm glad you came." His only response was an appreciative shudder. "Do you want to wash me now?" she asked. Steph leaned back, uncrossed her legs, and placed a foot on each side of Chuck's hips, exposing everything to his eager view. He grabbed the soap and began to rub her, beginning and concentrating, not unexpectedly, on her breasts. His handling was rough and inexperienced. "Gently, Chuck, gently. Enjoy the feeling. Pinch the nipples." In response, he slowed and began twirling the tender tips between his fingers, just hard enough. She scrunched down, luxuriating in the motion of his hands, until her ass was on top of his lap, bringing their sexual organs almost into union. For minutes they sat like this, and Steph expected him to further explore her body. Still he kept manipulating her breasts until she took his right hand, kissed it, and placed it squarely over her pussy. He began to finger her pubic curls, to probe her lips, but it was clear he didn't have the slightest idea of what to do. She looked at him with a sly smile. "You've never touched one of those before, have you?" "No." Slowly the single word slipped out, almost in guilt. "Let me help you." Steph reached down with both hands and spread her lips wide open. Placing her index finger on her now extended button, she explained, "This is my clitoris. When you rub it, it feels really good. Why don't you try that?" Chuck's finger took its place, and began to rub the small rod up and down. Then he lightly pinched it between his fingers and shocks of electricity scrambled through her body, causing a gasp to escape from her lips. Observing the reaction, he repeated the maneuver several times, bringing her desperately close to completion. "Put your finger inside me," she begged. He probed her pussy gently. It felt so good that moisture began to leak from her eyes. She knew she wanted something larger inside her, and grabbing the object of her desires, she knew he was ready for intercourse. How to do it, what position? She was certain the confines of the bathtub wouldn't let him go deep enough into her, wouldn't satisfy her. Suddenly she stood up, grabbed him and cried, "Come on." Without drying herself, she ran into the bedroom and flung herself onto the bedspread, spreading her legs wide, waiting for his arrival.
"Honey, screw me some more. Make me come, too." Once again his now semi-rigid tool began to slip in and out of her wet cunt, and she used both her hands and her commands to move him. "Faster, over to the side. Now, straight in, hard!" But the more she implored, the less satisfaction she obtained. Soon his used cock slipped from inside of her, and even though he tried to push it back in, she knew he couldn't do it. She rolled him off her, grabbed some tissues from the box, and wiped herself clean of his sperm, then wiped her pussy juice off his limpness. He was on his back now, an arm covering his face, and she took a minute to admire his beauty. Relinquishing the desire to quench the fire in her private parts, she took the opportunity to cuddle up to his side and stroke his smooth chest. Kissing him, she asked, "Well, was it as good as you thought it would be?" "Even better. I never thought it would feel like that. Man, you made me feel so hot. Did you like it? Was I good?" "You were fine," she fibbed. "Pretty good for the first time. You'll get better, with practice." She kissed him again, this time deeply, hoping to assuage his tender emotions. He responded by playing with her breast, pinching the nipple. The tingle of excitement returned, stronger, and Steph welcomed it. Soon he pushed his face down to suck on her nipple. He was a little rough, which was just fine. "Harder," she implored. He bit her, causing a flash of pain that flashed into her loins, drawing a gasp from her. "Not that hard." He continued to suck, to probe, to pinch. Stephanie let her hand slide between her legs. She'd never masturbated with a man before, but she badly needed to come, and she was willing to do anything for it. With her index finger, she began a circling motion directly on her clitoris. Concentrating first on the pressure she was placing on her hot spot, and then on the sucking and pinching Chuck was applying to her nipples, she soon returned to a state of sexual agitation. Applying the lessons he'd already completed, Chuck injected a digit and began moving it inside her inflamed pussy. For minutes she aroused herself with help from the boy beside her, and finally, flashes of amber began to permeate her cerebellum. Not the lightning of a full come, but mini-orgasms lasting only a few seconds, then receding from the precipice. In her frenzy, she placed a hand on his leg and was overwhelmed to discover another erection. Maybe a young stud was what she needed to match her insatiable desire.
For over ten minutes she stayed immersed in rapture, allowing herself satisfaction after satisfaction. A change of pressure deep within her indicated her partner was coming; and still she rolled on. His stiffness began to decline; but she didn't care as long as he continued to play with her breasts. She kept on with her finger. Five more minutes passed, perhaps ten. His penis was too soft to be useful. She dropped to the bed on her back, still fingering herself. The boy tried to help her, kissing her face and flesh and rubbing her. His finger found its way into her sloppy pussy, bringing on yet another explosion. For the first time in twenty minutes, Stephanie pried her damp finger away from her genitals and allowed herself to surrender to the ministrations of her partner. For another five minutes, she shook with delight as Chuck used his finger to poke her to intense gratification. At last the intensity of her emotions subsided and the touch at her opening took on a gentler, soothing motion. She allowed herself to return to the world. "Are you okay?" he asked, a concerned look on his young face. "Better than you know," she panted. "Do women always do that?" "No, hardly ever. Sorry if I scared you. But thanks. You were great. I really appreciate you staying with me like that. It was just what I needed." She cuddled up to him, and allowed him to hold her. They'd both reached contentment, he in his first experience of a woman's charms, and she found the cravings within her soul and loins temporarily appeased. Slumber swept over the lovers. Steph woke first, to a room in which darkness had descended. Groggily, she reached over to turn on the lamp. Her hand bumped something, and it crashed to the floor with the sound of breaking glass. When light from the bulb flooded the room, she looked down to see the picture of her husband, her beloved Glennn, staring at her from below the cracked pane. Oh, shit, she'd done it again, hadn't she? Turning over, now she was facing the gently snoring juvenile. Covering her nakedness with the sheet, she implored, "Chuck, wake up." "What? Huh?" He wearily roused, and then realized he was lying, for the first time in his life, next to a naked woman. "Oh, hi." "Listen, I better take you home, huh?" "Can I stay just a little longer?" He reached for her, and she knew he wanted more. She allowed him to hold her, and she felt the warmth of his loins press into her again. For a brief second she responded, kissing him and allowing him to hold her breast, but then she looked at a picture of herself sandwiched between her husband and her mother. No, she had to stop now. She swung away from him and sat up. "Your parents will be worried about you. You should get dressed." "Okay. If you say so." He climbed out of bed, and padded off into the bathroom. Steph watched him, and the sight of his firm nude body filled her with confused passion. By the time he returned, she had her panties and jeans on, and she noticed his eyes linger hungrily on her bosom. Quickly, she threw on a blouse to hide her nakedness. Chuck was quiet during the ten-minute drive back to the island. "Anything you want to talk about?" she asked. "No, not really. It's just been a really wonderful day." They were both a little shy now, fearful of what they'd done together, and she, at least, fearful of what might yet come. "Where should I drop you?" "Oh, over by the beach, I guess. I only live three blocks away, and it might not go over well if my mom saw me getting out of a car with an older lady. Well, not old, I mean, just . . . well . . ." "Sure, I know what you mean. Don't worry about it." The couple arrived at the beach overlooking the spot where they'd met only hours before. "Take it easy, Chuck." "Thanks for the beer and everything." "No sweat." Chuck fumbled out of the VW in the ungainly manner of an adolescent. He rambled over to her side of the car and leaned into the window. Stephanie could tell he was searching for the perfect way to end what had been the perfect day.
"You sure? I mean, you weren't faking it, were you?" A huge smile. The twenty-five year old woman gave the sixteen-year old boy a good-bye kiss. "So, listen, can I see you again?" Twin emotions flooded her karma. First there was guilt, knowing her husband was on a ship, fighting for the country, and how, now twice, she'd been unfaithful to him. And yet another sensation, one she knew wouldn't just go away, one that was centered squarely between her legs. "I don't know. Maybe I'll come down to the beach again tomorrow. Or maybe in a few weeks, when my husband's ship leaves. Why don't you keep an eye out for me?" She pulled away from the curb, and the Bug sputtered down Shoreline Drive. |
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She lay on the sands of Alameda sunning herself, her back to the behemoth of the Naval Air Station, attempting to ignore its overwhelming presence in her life.
She'd be there, waiting on the huge docks as the gray warrior slowly approached the pier. Glenn would be peering from the flight deck, attempting to catch a glimpse of her, and a half-hour later he'd come flying down the gangplank. They'd go to the apartment halfway up the Oakland hills, walk down to the Baskin-Robbins for a hot fudge sundae, and perhaps make love that night.
Still, she remembered the sensation of the other man's attentions, how he kissed her, undressed her, gently laid her on the bed, fondled her breasts, and then covered her with himself, thrusting his member into the dark gully of her sex. In some indiscernible way his lovemaking had been different. Perhaps it was that his tool was a novel size, or that there were exotic scents, or that his movements inside her touched unexplored regions. When he spurted, she remembered pushing her groin firmly against his, wanting to secure all of his juice deep in her innards, almost as an animal instinct. Lying here on the beach, she was certain that the reminiscence of the strange body on top and inside of her was causing her to blush. She wanted to put her hands between her legs, to bring herself off as she often did in her bed at night, to pretend he was still fucking her.
"Thanks. You don't have to leave, if you don't want to. Stay and talk," she invited. Chuck sat on the toilet lid at her feet, grabbed a tissue, and began to wipe the glasses. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
For a few seconds he hesitated, and then he turned his back to her, pulled the T-shirt over his head, unzipped his fly, and flung the shorts and underpants into the corner. She scooted up, making room for him, disrobing herself in the process, and as he climbed into the water and sat cross-legged facing her, she inspected him. One of her worries dissipated. His manliness, fully erect of course and standing straight from his body, was fully developed, easily as large as her husband and larger, she thought, than the guy a month ago. Their bodies touched for the first time at the knees.
He was on top of her in a flash. She reached between them and positioned his cock at her opening, relishing the passion as he slid into her. She was wild for it, she was eager, and as he thrust in and out of her, she used her legs to push her vagina up, meeting his plunges with pushes of her own. She grabbed his ass, imploring him to go deeper and deeper, and the pressure of his chest on her breasts enticed her to pleasure. She was close, on the verge, just a moment from release when she felt him go rigid, stopping, and she knew he was exploding into a woman for the first time. She just needed a little more, and she pleaded, "Keep going, keep going!" but by the time he absorbed the message into his orgasm-fogged brain, it was too late. She was off the edge. 'Damn, double damn,' she thought as he collapsed in a heap on top of her. For seconds he lay there, recovering from his exertion, and then he tried to kiss her.
She pushed the cub on his back and straddled him. She grabbed his cock and furiously sank down onto it, burying the tool inside of her as high as it would possibly go. Taking one of his hands and placing it on her breasts, she exclaimed, "Don't stop." While she ground herself against him, her other hand continued to excite her exposed clit. She moved her hips to her own secret rhythm, pleasing herself, using his body purely for her own desires. At long last waves of pleasure broke over her, followed by eddies of calm that only served as preparation for the next tremendous whitecap.
"Hey, I really enjoyed myself."