1900UTC: USS Nimitz - Sea of Okhotsk, Extended Sea Duties.
The sign on the door read ‘Lieutenant Dawn Delaney’ and it stood out in a sharp contrast to the battleship grey innards of the aircraft carrier’s metal passageways. The air here was stale and cloying under the artificial lighting which illuminated the run of narrow windowless corridor. Seated at the small cluttered desk, the lithe officer rifled through the wad of paperwork unceremoniously dumped in her In-tray before picking out the thick stapled file; scanning it carefully with a practiced eye. Satisfied, she signed off on the weekly crew rostering; making a few short amendments in red before consigning the document to the metal tray on the far corner of the desk. She reached for the ceramic coffee mug; sipping its contents and finding them cold. Wrinkling her nose, she leaned her lithe frame back in the old leather chair and took stock. A streaky-blonde mop of tousled hair and large spectacles endowed her with a somewhat severe look; rather like a schoolmistress or librarian she imagined. The body remained pleasingly taut and curvaceous; the close fitting fatigue shirt revealing a seductive curve of breast, slender waist and athletic hips. She knew the ratings referred to her as ‘Destroyer Delaney’ and revelled in the aura that she had created. Keeping a group of young sailors on their toes over the weeks of open sea operations proved a feat for any administrative officer; let alone a female. The fact that Dawn remained aloof and private by nature merely added to the mystique. The Siren of course had several reasons for that.
Flicking stray hair out of her eyes brusquely; she found herself involuntarily squeezing her thighs together distractedly. The long enforced sexual solitude of these extended sea voyages was a chore for a female sailor as much as it was for the boyish able seamen in her charge. Her mind drifted to times gone by; dipped into the pool of shared wisdom and watched the memories of aeons past dance in sultry ripples. A sharp rapping on the cabin door brought her back to reality.
“Come in,” she ventured; terse and businesslike.
“Still working ma’am?” Delaney’s young junior lieutenant peeped in from the open door. Dark haired and fresh faced, he spoke casually but respectfully.
“Just finishing crew and detail rosters for next week. You can take that back upstairs with you, if you don’t mind,” she replied with a casual nod towards the thick file in the Out-tray.
“Sure, ma’am. Anyways, I just had an issue brought to my attention which you probably should hear about.”
“Sure thing, sub. What’s up?” Delaney put down the pen and sat back with arms crossed; giving the subaltern her undivided attention.
“A couple of the men up to their high jinks again. Someone’s made themselves a gloryhole in a storage locker at the back of the boat deck.”
“Seriously - you boys and your cocks! Well, wouldn’t be the first time. Have you done anything about it?”
“Not yet ma’am. I’ve only just heard the gossip on the grapevine. Do you want me to see to it?”
“No, relax Mike. I’ll deal with it personally. Thanks for the heads up.”
“Sure thing ma’am. I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”
“Okay, then. Great. One gloryhole inspection before bed.” Delaney frisked a hand quickly though the tousled mop of hair. “Shall I let you have one more go before I shut it down?” she added cheekily.
“Not for me ma’am,’ replied the younger officer with a dry grin, “I’m not sure the good lady wife would approve!”
***
The aft boat deck store was a good ten minutes’ walk from Delaney’s office and she arrived to find it darkened and seemingly secure. Opening the watertight door she weaved her way through the maze of pallets and canisters, revealing only mute emptiness. Pausing momentarily, she sensed rather than saw the diffuse slant of illumination beyond the heavy supporting bulkheads and made her way toward it.
The rear of the storage locker was dark and cluttered and the small storage room was all but hidden behind a stack of equipment crates. Dawn entered the cramped room soundlessly; finding the metal door open. Locking it deftly behind her, she made her way toward the dim glow of light which emanated from the racks of shelving. A single circular hole had been neatly bored into the heavy timber door and the dim glow of diffuse light through it caught her eye.
As she approached, a pair of probing fingers protruded quickly through the neatly cut hole then just as quickly disappeared. Casting a quick glance back toward the store room door; she unzipped her sea camo fatigues and felt herself warm and throbbing in the tight cotton briefs. Easing her groin up against the door, she drew out her semi-hard cock and slid it through the hole. No sooner had she done so then a warm, willing mouth on the other side of the timber door enveloped her hardening member, drawing it into a welcoming wetness with long, rhythmic sucks. Closing her eyes and pressing harder against the rough door, Dawn relaxed; her shapely bottom clenching rhythmically in time with the anonymous mouth which now sucked hungrily at her smooth shaft. Distractedly she fumbled with the leather belt; allowing her fatigue pants to slip a little down her thighs. A muffled grunt sounded from behind the timber door as she gave a sharp pelvic thrust; her erection coming to full hardness with the flickering tongue working feverishly on the swollen head. She sighed with the forbidden wave of pleasure and slipped furtive fingers into the waistband of her white cotton panties, finding her pussy lubricating nicely underneath her rigid cock. Tugging at the snug constraining underwear, she slipped two fingers up inside and frigged herself rapidly; riding on a warm wave of pleasure which she had been denied for long weeks. She rested a cheek against the rough door, mashing her slender body against it and thrusting herself into the circular opening; allowing her tousled hair to fall in her face as she abandoned herself to the stolen pleasure. The mouth on the other side of the door was doing a skilful job, she thought; certainly better than most men. The wet, greedy tongue traced almost seductively around the entire length of her offered shaft, sending her into a paroxysm of lust. She felt her orgasm building like an intense liquid wave; rubbing fingers frantically over her panty covered quim now as she clenched her buttocks in staccato pulses as her climax drew closer.
A Sirens’ orgasm can be devastatingly violent and if directed intentionally, the climactic wave she exudes will stun a person she copulates with; effectively erasing the memory of the event. A Siren in full fury climax will kill her lover. Dawn had no intention of doing either; nevertheless her orgasm was bone-shaking and sent wave upon wave of warm pleasure through her body as she ejaculated into the sailor’s waiting mouth. Biting her lip hard she stifled an involuntary moan in her throat; relishing the muffled sound of the man struggling to swallow her load as she shot with indiscriminate lust.
Her pent-up arousal quenched, Dawn unzipped hastily, straightened herself up and slinked quickly from the cramped room. Despite her agility the sudden clatter of boots caught her off-guard and she barely sidestepped the rushing figure in the gloom. Recognising her lithe figure and shock of dusky hair, the young rating straightened himself briskly at attention.
“Long cruise was it, sailor?” she nodded toward his crotch. “Zip yourself up properly.”
Adjusting himself awkwardly, the young rating remained at attention; red-faced.
“I suppose you don’t know anything about an illegal gloryhole back here on the boat deck do you?”
“Ma’am. No ma’am,” came the dutiful reply.
“I’m not going to find one if I were to take a good look around, then?”
“Ma’am…” the young lad faltered.
“I’m going to do a full inspection and inventory check of the boat stores tomorrow morning. I don’t expect I’ll find any gloryhole and this entire storage area is going to be secure and seaworthy. Are you reading me sailor?”
“Loud and clear, ma’am,” came the dutiful reply.
“Excellent. On your way, sailor.”
The young sailor exhaled and relaxed visibly; grateful for the opportunity to remove himself from the scene.
“Oh, and sailor?” added Delaney with a conspiratorial smile; “You’ve got a little something on your chin.”
Returning to her cabin, Delaney found a letter in the pigeonhole on the wall alongside the door. She snatched the letter brusquely and noted the bold type with a vague satisfaction:
“Interview: Admiral Chegwidden’s offices. 1300 Tuesday 21st”
Peeling off her uniform, she felt the wetness in her panties and quietly savoured the earlier stolen pleasure of pent-up release.
***
1300PDT: Naval Station Everett WA - Admiral Chegwidden’s Offices
Situated just off the waterfront, the Admiral’s offices sat in a small grove of trees overlooking the steel blue waters of the bay. Checking her watch, Delaney deftly straightened the uniform dress jacket and drew a deep draft of salt sea air before entering the small reception area. The offices sat in a hushed solemnity and finding the door to the admiral’s office open, she knocked brusquely before entering.
Fat and balding with a pasty white pallor; Admiral Chegwidden bore the haughty lecherousness that so often characterized older men of power and position. He watched Lieutenant Delaney walk catlike into his office; imagining the sultry temptress underneath the formal white naval uniform. The military formality seemed to exaggerate her sexuality. Acknowledging her crisp salute, he motioned her to sit; eyes roving. Mind imagining the naked splendour of her breasts, pussy and legs. She smiled patiently; knowing the leering expression of privileged men only too well.
“Lieutenant Delaney,” the old officer spoke formally, “I’ve been reviewing your file. I trust the Okhotsk exercise went well for you?”
“As well as can be expected, sir,” she replied evenly, “The usual administrative problems but nothing to write home about.”
“Quite so lieutenant.” He made a display of shuffling though official papers on the polished desktop before continuing, “KPI’s and standing orders all met and you shut down an illicit gloryhole to boot?”
“Yes, sir. Just the men and their high jinks,” she countered. Now how did I know the old bastard would zero in on that, she mused privately.
“Men have their needs, lieutenant,” he said imperiously.
“As do women, sir,” she countered.
He weighed her reply, cautiously surprised; looked for signals in the piercing blue eyes that held his glance evenly and found only the notion of cool brooding strength. It unsettled him despite his growing arousal.
“Yes…yes, indeed,” he mumbled; just a little on edge, “Well…no harm done.”
“Sir, we were discussing my performance file?” The Siren spoke formally; steering the conversation back onto track.
“Ah yes, lieutenant. Yes…I’ve read your file. And a personnel report from Captain Abrams.”
“And, sir?”
“And you have quite a record, Delaney. Competent. Consistent. Leadership qualities. And I would like to see you rewarded for it.”
“Well thank you sir, I think that would be appropriate…”
“Have you heard of the term quid pro quo, lieutenant?” the heavyset admiral interjected boldly; searching the lieutenant’s face for a cue.
She regarded him coolly; her expression unchanged.
“What exactly are you proposing, Admiral Chegwidden?”
“Join me for a drink, Delaney.”
He rose stiffly, adjusted his uniform and motioned her expansively toward a heavy framed door.
Dawn entered the small room cautiously; found herself in a comfortable furnished bedroom. The rich oak furniture gave it a sense of understated opulence and matching timber venetians imbued the light with a warm diffuse glow. The admiral followed Delaney into the room; noted her quizzical look.
“I work and live here, Lieutenant. You might say I’m married to the job.” He leaned toward a low cabinet, grasping for a glass.
“Let’s dispense with the drinks, Admiral. I think we both know why we’re here,” she interjected.
“As you wish, lieutenant,” he answered; intrigued and surprised at the promising turn of events.
Motioning to the corner of the bed, she bade him to sit his bulk down and took to unbuckling her leather belt dutifully; feeling his eyes on her. Slipping off her neatly pressed white uniform trousers, Dawn revealed a tight white jockstrap. The old man grunted a gruff utterance of surprise and delight; hungrily taking in her smooth shapely arse and the welcoming cleft of her butt, rudely exposed by the open undergarment. Admired the curve of her pubic mound under the tight briefs and imagined her full lips which hung heavy in the tight revealing pouch of her sexy jock.
“Interesting underwear choice,” ventured the admiral throatily; now openly rubbing his crotch expectantly through his uniform pants with a fascinated interest.
“They’re functional but sexy,” said Dawn, unbuttoning her shirt and laying it carefully on the back of a chair, before running her hands playfully down her belly and over her mound of Venus. Another admiring grunt from the admiral prompted her to unhook the clip of her bra; allowing the sultry curve of full breasts to fall free. Seeing the old man reddening, she offered them to his mouth and he took to hungrily sucking at the unexpected prize; tongue rudely outstretched and slobbering.
In a flurry of movement, the aging admiral unbuckled, dragging dress pants down his legs unceremoniously before unbuttoning the crisp pressed shirt; discarding the trappings of office in a crumpled heap.
Pushing him back on the bed, she lowered her face to the old man’s exposed crotch and tugged off his briefs, easily engulfing the short squat cock entirely with her mouth and causing the old man to wheeze a surprised gasp of lewd delight. He spread his fat thighs hopefully; grasping at the back of her tousled blonde head of hair and pulling her roughly into his groin.
“Oh yesss, that’s it. Let me fuck that pretty face of yours!”
Unsurprisingly the old man lacked style and finesse. Still, even average sex is good after so many years of nothingness, Dawn mused privately. She allowed him to fuck her mouth for a few selfish moments, relaxing submissively against his feverish grip like a rag doll before cupping his heaving balls with one hand; tracing a finger up underneath them.
“Ohhh, admiral,” she moaned with faux-pleasure; playing to the old man’s inflated sense of ego; “You’re really doing it for me!”
“You want some more of this, baby?” he slavered; gripping his firm stubby cock and rubbing it lustfully against her face.
“I want you inside me,” she replied deftly; locking eyes with him seductively before rising catlike from his sweaty crotch, lips glistening.
“Well, I would very much enjoy that, Lieutenant Delaney,” came the throaty reply; grabbing at her crudely by the hips as she rose.
“I have a surprise for you, sir. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”
She hooked her thumbs into the elastic of her jockstrap and let it fall from her hips. Her hardening cock fell free; smoothly appealing in a neat compliment to her waxed pubic area. Confronted, the old man’s eye drew wide.
“Holy heck, you’re…”
“…all woman, admiral,’ she completed his sentence with an alluring silkiness in her voice, “Just born with a little something extra for pleasure.”
Reclining on the bed alongside and spreading firm muscled thighs, Dawn revealed a perfect set of slender pink lips glistening wetly below the arched shaft of cock which now rose proudly.
“Well ain’t that a sight for sore eyes,” he muttered, quickly nuzzling his face against the trim lips and forcing his wet snaking tongue inside her with a desperate abandon.
Lying back with eyes closed, she jerked her hardening cock slowly; allowing herself to drift on the pleasure rising in her pulsing shaft and the sensation of hot breath against her pussy.
She hooked her smooth legs over the admiral’s bare shoulders as he pushed his face further into her spread crotch, eating her with a desperate urgency. Feeling her cock quiver, she masturbated it with long sensuous strokes of her hand and moaned softly with the rising warmth. Looking down she could see the admiral watching her movements lustfully as he worked on her opening.
“Do you like what you see, admiral?’ she purred softly.
“You’re quite an acquired taste, lieutenant. I’m intrigued,’ came the gruff reply. He found himself hot and painfully erect. Strangely aroused at the sight of cock and pussy between the Siren’s smooth strong thighs. Somehow it seemed natural - appealing and he found himself desperately wanting her willing body.
“Fuck me, admiral,” she said with almost naïve innocence, the words as silky as her moistened tongue and lips.
The old man needed no encouragement; straddling her with his eager naked bulk until she felt the heat of his feverish excitement across her slick torso. Cock in hand, he lowered himself onto her, feeling her own hard shaft hot against his stomach. Legs splayed wide to accommodate his eager bulk, she raised her taut butt off the bed to position herself for his squat erection. He slid in easily with a satisfied gasp; laying his full weight on her naked body before driving a wet probing tongue rudely into her mouth. He smelt stale and sweaty and he thrust roughly into her pussy with an uncoordinated rhythm; greedily savouring the unexpected prize of willing flesh.
“You have a lovely snug cunt, lieutenant,’ he muttered, planting rough slobbering kisses over her face and neck.
Delaney was used to rough language; indeed, life on a naval vessel was replete with it. But coming from the gruff naked man plundering her svelte body, it made something recoil in her. She closed her eyes and spread herself wider; raising her slender legs high and feeling him take the opportunity of her naked exposure to hastily slip a pair of fat fingers up against her tight anus.
“I bet you’re snug in that beautiful ass too,” he whispered crudely.
He worked a digit into her back passage; stabbing his tongue rudely into her mouth in a lecherous synchronicity. Locking eyes with the pretty officer as he plundered her.
She squirmed a little to ease off the pressure on her arse; neatly evading the stubby fingers prising her back passage open.
“From where I come the anus is sacred, admiral.”
“As you wish. Though I don’t mind a little finger in ass play myself, if you get my meaning,” he leered.
Enveloped by his expansive bulk, she wet a finger almost theatrically and felt for his anus; heard him issue a lewd grunt as she worked it into his sweaty hole. He ground against her groin, savouring the novel sensation of a hard cock rubbing against his belly and her warm honey-hole gripping his own prick nicely. They moved against each other for long minutes, each slaking their lust in their own private way.
Removing her fingers from his arse, Dawn kissed him playfully and whispered silkily; “Let’s change position, honey.”
He allowed her to take the lead and rolled dutifully onto his back as she took the superior position; her svelte body poised like a naked dancer over him. The blonde Siren positioned herself and spread his thick thighs wide. He could see the wet glaze of her own arousal glistening on her neat pink pussy lips; the neatly proportioned erection standing out proudly and slick with her own lube. Realising her intention, he opened his mouth in sudden half-hearted protest. Grabbing his shoulders firmly, she pushed him hard against the bed with one fluid motion, catching the admiral off guard with her display of unexpected strength.
In a parody of his earlier actions, she slipped her tongue into his mouth and pressed her lips against his. He felt the warm cockhead against his arse and tensed involuntarily. Satisfied with his surprised grunt, Dawn worked the smooth head into his tight sphincter. She paused to allow him to draw a surprised breath before kissing him passionately on the neck and using his sudden reflex of arousal to stab her veined shaft into him. Chancing a deeper thrust, she evinced a sudden yelp of pain, and gently withdrew herself from his tight hole.
“Hell darlin’, I thought you said the anus was sacred!”
“No, darling. My anus is sacred…not yours.”
Smothering him in a sudden passionate wet kiss which left him breathless; her abdomen tensed visibly as she re-inserted herself into his arse; holding his gaze with riveting grey-blue eyes as she did. He stifled a grunt as the erect shaft slipped back into him and watched her eyes roll with pleasure. Despite the unfamiliar sensation of pain and penetration, the admiral noted his almost painful arousal; he cock still straining hard and erect. The urge for release became all-pervading and he took to wanking himself in jerky spasms; eyes locked horrified on the petite blonde who seemed to be transforming like a naked banshee on top of him.
Her moans of pleasure built as she thrust powerfully; the pulsing shaft buried inside him. Seemingly lost in her own quenching of lust, she paused momentarily and spoke huskily;
“Do you want to know what I did to the young rating I caught at the gloryhole, admiral? The guy I caught in the act of giving a blowjob?” Dawn’s eyes were glazing as she neared her climax; holding the fat man’s hypnotised gaze as she pumped him with sharp, staccato thrusts of her strong pelvis.
“Wha…what did you do to him?” The admiral lay wide-eyed and transfixed underneath her.
With a wicked glint she pulled her cock from his arse wetly; nimbly rising to straddle his chest in a liquid movement and jerked her cock violently.
“Thisss…!”
A jet of thick ejaculate shot over the admiral’s face causing the Siren to emit a low urgent moan of delight. Her eyes rolled involuntarily, licking her cum from his face in a frenzy of delight. Her body began quivering; vibrating against him; her breasts becoming a pale blur, hard nubs of erect nipples dancing across his chest like angry fireflies. She licked at him hungrily; her moan rising to become a high blurring song. With an asthmatic gasp, the old man climaxed heavily, long rivulets of cum lancing across Dawn’s taut belly and falling back in heavy droplets onto his rotund stomach. Her muscles flexed once, twice; the filigree flutter of fine vestigial wings complimented her curvaceous figure, naked and sensual in the half-light of the small bedroom. Then, lying across his heaving naked bulk, she kissed him wetly and passionately one final time before he slipped into heavy dreamless sleep.
***
0900PDT: USS Nimitz - Home port, Captain Abrams’ quarters.
In a perfect foil to the old admiral, Abrams cut a fine figure. Still gym fit and vital; his face bore the marks of a life well lived rather like a fine aged wine – thoughtful crow's feet and worry lines etched the otherwise unblemished face under a thatch of dark hair. The blue grey camouflage fatigues seemed made for him, and similarly attired; Dawn Delaney stood at casual attention and quietly admired the man.
“Seems you made quite an impression on the old man, Lieutenant,” he remarked; stepping to the neat desk and picking out a letter from an ornate bronze rack.
“How so, sir?” she probed quizzically.
He offered her the crisp folded paper which she dutifully took and read privately before finally reciting the closing statement aloud.
“…I am therefore pleased to inform you that your promotion to Lieutenant Commander has been approved.”
She gazed at the communique for long seconds; weighing the implications. Abrams gave her the space before breaking the moment with a creased grin.
“Congratulations, Dawn. Well deserved. I understand you’ll be given a posting on our return. Personally I’m hoping we manage to keep you on the Nimitz.”
“Well, thank you sir. I should probably ring the admiral before we sail and thank him.”
A furrowed look of concern crossed the captain’s face.
“I’m sorry lieutenant…you haven’t heard?”
“Heard what, sir?”
The captain scanned his lieutenant’s quizzical expressions; weighed his words and spoke evenly.
“Admiral Chegwidden died in hospital three days ago after a massive heart attack.”
“I...I don’t know what to say sir,” she replied; her eyes downcast, crestfallen.
“No words, lieutenant. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, given the admiral’s health.”
He gazed through the porthole; drawn by the sudden flurry of movement alongside on the dock before continuing;
“You must have an angel on your side, though. It’s lucky you got to see him before he went.”
Outside on the foredeck the warning klaxon signalled the ship’s impending departure; the sudden harsh banshee wail slap-echoing against the heavy superstructure.
“Sirens,” muttered Abrams with a measured shake of his head, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that godforsaken sound.”
***
