FIND OUT WHY EVE WAS EMOTIONALLY FRAGILE

The meaning of the name Eve is Life.

The origin of the name Eve is Hebrew.

Other variations: None. 

Eve was ex girl friend number eleven

Who at first put me in seventh heaven

Then this southern bell

Took me straight to fucking hell

And bitched every day, yes all seven  

Eve is egg salad on toasted rye

And for nine months gave her a try

Then figuring, when in Rome

I went to Eleanor’s home

And I stuck my pecker in her pie 

In a stockpot we begin with about two dozen large eggs in about gallon of cold water. Then once it starts a rolling boil, we remove it from the heat keeping it covered. And after another 13 to 18 minutes we place the boiled eggs into an ice water bath for another 10 to 12 minutes or until they are cooled to the touch.

Next we gently peel the eggs under running water to remove the shells and any remaining skin. Lastly, we separate the yokes from the whites and mash each half with a fork. And this gives us our first two Egg Salad Sandwich Bases, before we place each covered bowl in the fridge until needed.

Now with two different versions of our Egg Salad Base, the White and the Yellow. We create our Classic Egg Salad Base, which reunites the whites and yokes together again. Just like all of the Egg Salad Sandwiches that we grew up enjoying. And using the Yellow Egg Salad Base, we can create a fourth Egg Salad Base, the Deviled. Which is simply made by mixing in Underwood Deviled Ham to make our signature Deviled Egg Salad Sandwich.

And just like with Our Tuna Base's, because we don’t add your favorite spread until it’s ordered. We can easily add more eggs when they are needed throughout the day. This limits the amount of waste that we have at the end of each day. Plus it also gives me an opportunity to take a few Egg Salad Sandwiches home every once in a while.

And once you have decided which one of the four Egg Salad Base's that you want. The Classic, the White, the Yellow or the Deviled. You get to make a Bread Selection, select your Spread Choice and any Extra Items you want. Finally your Standard Finisher to make your Egg Salad Sandwich with.

And because people basically come from a vast and wide variety of different backgrounds. I didn’t want to offer them a cookie cutter version of an Egg Salad Sandwich either.

So here at the X-Rated Sandwich Shop, you get to have your Egg Salad Sandwich your way.

White, Wheat, Rye, Pumpernickel, Sourdough, Whole Grain or Multi Grain. On flat bread, Pita, Baguette, Panini, Chabata or wraps (Plain or Whole Wheat). On a Sub roll (round or long) or Surprise Me, and let us pick out the bread for your Egg Salad Sandwich.  

Fresh – Slowly blended egg whites and EVOO create fresh Homemade Mayonnaise. 

Mayo – Hellmann's Real Mayonnaise.

Real – Kraft Real Mayonnaise.

Whip – Miracle Whip Salad Dressing.

No Fat – Hellmann's Fat Free Mayonnaise.

Free – Kraft Fat Free 1,000 Island Salad Dressing.

Yellow – French’s Yellow Mustard.

Brown – Gulden’s Spicy Brown Mustard.

Dijon – Grey Poupon Dijon Mustard.

Horse –  Heinz Premium Horseradish Sauce.

Oil – EVOO (Extra Virgin Olive Oil) mixed with both Red and White Wine Vinegar.

After you’ve made your spread selection, we’ll mix in 2 teaspoons if you want your egg salad base Dry, 3 teaspoons in your egg salad base for Normal and 4 teaspoons in your egg salad base if you want it Wet.

While I was in Grove City Ohio looking for Sheri, Henry seemed to know more then he let on.

On my way home to Syracuse New York, I made a pit-stop in Grove City Ohio to look for Sheri. 

Flying first class has its perks, like stewardess waiting on you and a semi private bathroom too. 

A few shipmates and me take a road trip across the boarder to see her and cast a few stones.   

I almost flew back to Tori, until I stepped onboard the ship and felt its heartbeat under my feet.

After a week of rain, showers, drizzle and sprinkles, I went to buy some galoshes and met Eve.

Then about 3 AM in the morning I partially woke up with my hand wrapped loosely around my throbbing member. And I was having this dream about Anna and Sheri and they were each sucking on one of my balls. Not taking turns mind you, but at the same time. Plus they were slowly sucking one of my nads into their mouth, then pushing it back out again just as slowly with only their tongues.

And while that was going on in my mind, I was stroking my shaft like there was no tomorrow. Then after just a few brief minutes passed, I busted a nut all over my chest and stomach. But because I was still a bit groggy and tired, I instantly fell back asleep.

The next thing I knew, a car horn suddenly woke me up and after looking at my watch, which said 7:45. I also noticed that my hand, chest and stomach were still sticky from loosing the latest edition of an early morning cockfight.

So I slowly made my way to the water closet. And since last night my poor dick was once again the victim of his dreaded foe, the fearsome five-fingered fist. But while I was in the shower though, I quickly thought about how Sheri gave me her version of a navy shower once.

First off, she blindfolded me with her panties and got me all wet in the shower. Not that a pair of panties over your head make a very good blindfold. But I still played along with her anyway. Then Sheri led me back out into the bathroom again by my semi-soft dick, where she started to lather me up.

And all the while Sheri was doing this; I was thinking, hoping and even praying. That her roommate Karen would walk in and catch the two of us playing with soap and water before offering to join us. Then the three of us would eventually end up on the floor in a heap of bubbly fun and frolicking. But Karen never walked in on us, oh what a bummer.

Because about 15 minutes or so later. When Sheri was finished soaping me up, she managed to make my dick hard in the process. I heard all sorts of commotion going on around me. Then I would feel an occasional light brush against Sheri’s ass, her tits, and her arms when she hugged me. At first I thought she was trying to play some form of naked hide and seek. But Sheri was making way too much noise for that.

Next I figured that she was on a scavenger hunt for a stray condom. But we never used them before, so this would be a very odd time to start looking for one. And finally Sheri led me by back into the shower, by my very stiff cock this time. Where she gave me a truly awesome blowjob as the warm water was beating against my back.

And by the way, that memory was exactly what I jerked off to in the shower that morning. Plus for those of you that still might be wondering what in the hell Sheri was doing with me in the bathroom that morning. Before she finished sucking me dry, I asked her. “Earlier in the bathroom, what was all that noise about?”

Sheri quickly replied. “Well, today was my Saturday to clean the bathroom. So I figured, why not try to kill two birds with one stone. And since I needed soap, water and a bucket to clean with, you became the portable mop bucket that I needed. But I forgot about the mirror, and I needed some glass cleaner for that.”

After briefly laughing back at her, I said. “Sheri dear, I have on occasion used my-cum to clean a young ladies glasses. All you had to do was point me in the right direction and pull my trigger.”

Laughing her ass off now, Sheri simply said. “Larry, I will try to keep that in mind when it’s my turn to clean the bathroom again.”

But as I peeked through the leg holes of Sheri’s underpants, it was the vision of her that kept my cock hard. As she mopped the bathroom floor butt ass naked and will be something that I will never forget. Because it was the way that her ass, tits and hair all moved in unison with the mop, while she slowly moved it back and forth.

Even though many sailors swab a deck the same way, by using long and even strokes. Sheri’s version of mopping gives me an instant boner, every time I think about it. And for the life of me, I couldn’t get another one of my sexual partners to shower me like that again. Let alone just clean her house or the bathroom for that matter, while she was naked so I could just watch her.

However, Lynn and I did spend most of our first three days together naked and cleaning her apartment. Plus we even spent a few hours only wearing her night clothes while we were making our way back and forth from the laundry room in her complex. Plus we even got busted by Izzy while we were having sex down there too.

But I guessed that the others just figured out, that once I saw them naked. My pipes were the only thing that I was interested in having cleaned. Oh well, so much for wishful thinking, though Gwen was the closest. Because we spent the majority of the time that we were home either naked or fucking. Since we were either getting ready to have sex or we just got finished having sex.

Anyway back to the story. When I finished lightly drying off, I plopped back down on the bed to make some more calls. And the first one up on my list was good old Henry. But, this time Henry didn’t answer. So I moved on to the next number, and once again no answer.

Then with another dozen or so telephones ringing off the hook or this number has been disconnected, I finally gave up my quest to find Sheri. Even though Sheri might have slipped my mind once when I should have broken every speed law a second time, just to see her. Sheri also managed to slip out of my hands when I did try to find her. So, she maybe gone and out of my grasp for now, but she will never ever be forgotten about again.

Even to this day, I think of Sheri quite often and what we could have been or accomplished together. Ah, the everyday life of a procrastinator. As time was once again quickly running out on me, all because I wanted to get to Seattle Washington at least a week before I was suppose to arrive. Just so I could get the lay of the land, so to speak.

Though I know what some of you out there might be thinking. With just the two days that I spent looking for Sheri pales in comparison to the five months that I spent with her. Looking back over the years from then until now, Sheri was still by far the second best girlfriend that I ever had. And I should have never giving her up for Gwen in the first place.

Anyway back to the story at hand. I guess that being 24 and partially naïve when it comes to cars. Allowed me to take the local Wisconsin grease monkey at his word about my van, but in the end I didn’t. Because instead of giving him my cash to fix my van. I I easily gave him the slip instead. Because I just babied my van all the way to Grove City Ohio and back home to Syracuse New York before I had any major work done on it.

Then once I got home, I bought a used transmission and engine from a local junkyard for $1,000 dollars. Then I paid another $500 bucks to have it installed. Since time was really running short on me now, it still wasn’t finished in time for me to drive it across country to Seattle Washington. And that meant that I had to fly out of Syracuse then rent a car once I landed.  Then go out car shopping to look for a temporary replacement after I got there.

Since bumming rides or using mass transit just weren’t my cup of tea. But I no problem using them once in a while if needed. Just not as an everyday form of transportation. Oh well, so much for the best-laid plans again. While I was in Syracuse though, everything that I needed to do was easily within walking distance. So I had no problem getting around once my van was finally parked at the repair shop.

And periodically on one of my jaunts back and forth, I would stop by just to say hello to my bright orange lady. I just didn’t want her to feel abandoned like I made Sheri feel. But I did at least try to find her, even though I was, as usual, a day late and a dollar short (in dimes anyway).

And you guys just wouldn’t believe how badly I wanted a do over with Sheri, even more so than I wanted one with Emily. 

Well anyway, while flying out of Syracuse New York to Seattle Washington. Lady luck or at least someone else must have been looking out for me. Maybe it was Mike, my travel agent. Whom I called as my days on leave started to get shorter and shorter, while I was waiting for my van to get fixed.

And for what I felt was a bargain, Mike hooked me up with a first class ticket with one stop over to change planes. He also gave me printed directions from the airport to the shipyard and hooked me up with a rental car too. And all that was for only an additional $25 bucks, for his fee, above the plane ticket price. Plus his price was still under the cost of a one-way coach ticket, that I was quoted by the airlines.

The only sad part about leaving home was that my poor van was still sitting up on blocks. And waiting to have the engine and transmission installed the same day I had to fly out. And the last time I drove my bright orange neon sign shaped like a Ford E100 Econoline van. Was a little over two weeks ago when I pulled it into Joey’s Garage.

Even with my older brother Anthony, who kept reassuring me that my orange love machine was in good hands as he drove me to the airport. I was still going to miss her and all the fun and ex girlfriends that we shared together. Oh well, maybe it was time to those ghosts to bed too. And leave them all behind with my van.

After arriving at the departure terminal and saying goodbye to Anthony. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought I would never get the opportunity to drive my van again. And I tried to think of something else to concentrate on while I slowly snaked my way up to the ticket counter, with two full sea-bags.

One was full of my military clothes and the other had all my civilian stuff inside. Plus I also had my backpack as a carry on. But all I kept thinking about was my orange van. And that someone else, namely Anthony, was going to be putting the first few miles on her new but still used engine and transmission. As he drove it around, to break it in for me, until I got back home.

Finally making my way to the front of the line, I found myself standing right in front of truly beautiful woman named Carmen. While it was difficult to guess her height and weight because she was always standing behind the ticket counter, but she did look to be in mid to late 30’s with platinum blonde hair and around 5 foot eight or nine-ish and about 160 or so pounds.

She also had deep green eyes and sported a very nice tanned cleavage line that ran right down the middle of her melon-sized breasts. Meaning of course, Carmen’s honeydew melon-sized tits and they were nowhere close to a set of watermelon-sized cannons. But they were still the biggest set of tits that I have seen on a living and breathing human female. Although some of the ladies in my dad’s old magazines had much larger ones. 

But it was her name that memorized me the most, because Carmen made me think of Camilla. This in turn reminded me of Pat and his little Pizza Shop. Plus how Sheri’s eyes would light up and widen every time I brought her a pizza from his shop while she was working at the burger joint.

Also thinking of Sheri though caused my ticker, meaning my heart. To start beating faster and faster as it sent an extra batch of blood rushing south and below my equator. Because when I should have broken John Cobb’s 394 mile per hour speed record at the Bonneville Salt Flats to see Sheri. I somehow managed to briefly put her out of my mind.

And when I finally did have a chance to look her up, she was all I thought about. Except somehow a dream about her and Anna managed to slip in. But I still couldn’t catch a break to save my life, because Sheri was still no where to be found. And everyone I talked to in her home town of Grove City Ohio, never even heard of her. Or at least that’s what they kept telling me anyway.

Even now, my mind drifted back to the fifth date that Sheri and I shared. And it was her last stop on my famous ten-cent tour. Plus it was also time for us to finally have sex up on the platform bed in the back of my van. But anyway, here’s a nickel tour of how our first four dates went down. And don’t worry; you will still be able to read all about each one of them in greater detail in Sheri’s later chapters.

Our first date occurred in the M&M chair that we later renamed to the push-pop chair, a.k.a. the passenger side-rear seat. Then our second date happened in the now infamous broken-arm chair, because I accidentally broke one of the arms off when I got a little over excited. But that chair, a.k.a. driver’s side-rear one was also once referred to as the doggie chair because of the sexual position that Sheri and used on the second stop of her world wind ten-cent tour.

Then our third sexual encounter and date was in the passenger seat or when Sheri was riding high on my shotgun. And after I filled her with my own version of buck shot, Sheri quickly renamed it to the headache chair. Because she kept hitting her head on either the ceiling or up against the overhead console while we were fucking.

And finally our fourth date was on the driver’s side, not necessarily in the seat though. Because Sheri and I orally serviced each other as we took turns sitting on the steering wheel. In the beginning we simply called it the time out chair, because it reminded both of us about being put in a high chair when we were both bad and growing up.

But we soon started calling it the horny chair, since the dam horn kept going off. Whenever one of us was right in the middle of really getting down and dirty with our partners sexual organs. And with the sweetest spot of their anatomy either between our lips, between our teeth, or at the pointed end of a good tongue lashing.

Now here’s what transpired during the fifth and final stop of my 10-cent tour. Right after I finished collecting the last 2-cents for admission from Sheri for her sexual tour of my van. And what distracted me so much while I was standing right in front of Carmen at the airport ticket counter. Originally I called the platform bed the slumber party, but at three in the morning, it was quickly renamed to the Oh, Oh, I gotta pee bed.

Because after Sheri and I finished making love for the second time that night, we quickly drifted off to sleep still naked and wrapped in each other’s arms. Because during our first romantic interlude that night, it was just Sheri and I taking our time as we slowly made love to each other. And I had the back AM/FM cassette player softly playing 70’s music in the background.

But for round two, it was all about me. As I fucked the shit out of Sheri just as fast and as hard as I could. Then all of a sudden and way before the crack of dawn and even before the birds started chirping. We both jumped up out of bed at the same time with this sudden urge to piss.

The only problem was that we were still naked and parked in burger joint’s parking lot where Sheri worked. And with no where else to go, Sheri and I just popped open the back doors. Then just as naked as the day we were born, we both stepped out into the early morning air and into the parking lot.

While Sheri squatting down to do her business, I just stood tall and proud while doing mine. And when we were finished with our emergent call to nature, Sheri and I locked up in a very passionate embrace. Where we kissed each other before we very quickly jumped back inside to the safety and security of my van.

And once inside, we made love a third time as we both laughed about what just happened outside. Plus it was also the only time that I was able to get Sheri to stand, squat or even get naked outside in public.

Anyway, now back to Carmen. Lady luck was truly on my side again, because my cock was sitting in a very comfortable position as it swelled up this time. Which in turn made Carmen have ask me three times. “Sir, may I help you Sir?”

Before I finally snapped out of my sweet little daydream and handed her all the paperwork that Mike gave me. Then as Carmen fingertips lightly touched my hand, my penis stiffened just a little bit more as I kept my eyes on her hands. Along with the melon-sized cleavage that was right behind them.

Especially when she was very slowly starting to shift through all the stuff I handed her. Plus Carmen even attempted to hide a soft giggle with her hand. And it was also at that point. When I thought that I was going to coat the inside of my jeans with the latest batch of my fresh homemade spunk of Luscious Larry.

But when Carmen handed me back my directions to the shipyard, my rental car information and agreement, my travel itinerary and my receipt from the travel agency, Carmen smiled, and said. “Mr. Lorusso, all I needed was your ticket information here. The rest of that paperwork you won’t need until you land in Seattle.”

And in that brief 20 seconds or so that it took Carmen to hand my extra stuff back. I could have sworn another gallon of blood pumped straight into my cock. And I truly believed that my dick was stiff and hard enough to actually lift both of my sea-bags up at the same time. Then slowly put them on the scale where Carmen could weigh them. 

Then after mustering up enough intestinal fortitude, that’s what they call guts in the professional wrestling industry. I decided to just lift them by hand, one at a time. Instead of just dropping my jeans and using my dick to do the heavy lifting. Although I’m quite certain that Carman night have gotten a kick out of it. I wasn’t entirely sure the local police would have bee so thrilled. And with the possibility of getting thrown in jail, for either public exposure or public indecency, I simply nixed the idea.

After all, I did have a plane to catch, a crew to join and a ship to meet up with in Seattle Washington. Then as Carmen printed out my boarding passes and baggage claim receipts, she pointed me to the passenger screening area and said. “Enjoy your flight Mr. Lorusso.” 

But by then it was too late, because most of Carmen’s hand made contact with mine as she slowly handed everything over to me. And that’s when I also felt that I was doomed just like Charlie Brown was, when I asked. “Where’s the nearest restroom?”

And Carmen softly replied, “It’s in the terminal area, after passenger screening.”

And I truly believe the only reason I had that pissing dream about me and Sheri, was because I had to piss like a fucking racehorse. Just like Sheri and I both had to do that morning. Plus because of Carmen’s soft and gentile touch. I also had this huge piece of morning wood standing tall between my legs, even though it was early in the afternoon.

I parked my car in the visitor’s lot and walked over to the main gate and talked to the security guard posted there. After showing him my ID card and orders, he made a quick telephone call. Then he told me to wait a few minutes and someone from the ship will be right with me.

And low and behold, about 10 minutes later the Command Duty Officer (CDO) arrived from somewhere off-station to greet me. He was wearing civilian clothes and introduced himself by saying. “Hello Larry, my name is Matt and I’m today’s CDO. And I’m also the leading GMG1 (meaning Gunner’s Mate Guns - First Class, for all you non sailor types out there reading this) on the other side of the gun house.”

Which meant that since I was the ranking GMM2, (Gunner’s Mate Missile - Second Class). Or on the other side of the gunner’s mate world, Matt and I would be working closely together and quite often too.

After shaking hands, he told me. We’re not allowed on board the ship yet because the navy hasn’t officially taken possession of it. But we hope to do so very soon, maybe within the next two months or so. And for the time being, the navy has leased and is put us up in an apartment complex for us to live and work out of until we can move aboard. And once we get back there, I can finish checking you in.

Then we’ll get the paperwork started so you can start collecting the extra money to pay for your new apartment.

As I silently told myself, “Holy smokes talk about living high on the hog. I just left a very wonderful first-class experience where I was pleasured and pampered, although all the pleasuring was self-induced and now I’m in my very own all expenses paid apartment. Man, I thought this West Coast navy was already a thousand times better than the East Coast navy I left behind almost eight months ago.”

But in reality, it was the same old navy with a few extra perks thrown in for good measure. And being part of a pre-commissioning unit usually means prior to commissioning. And also means a whole lot of work to do behind the shipyard workers building the ship. So basically the navy was paying us the Basic Allowance for Quarters (BAQ) and the Basic Allowance for Substance (BAS) rate for the greater Seattle metropolitan area.

Along with all of our other pay and allowances that we would normally receive. Then out of this increase in pay, we were responsible for paying our rent, food, cable, and telephone bills.

Sign me up and I can do this for the whole 6-years that I just re-enlisted for. And as long as we stayed under the total amount of extra money the navy gave us, we were all allowed to pocket the difference. Which meant that if one really paid attention to what they we doing, you could easily take home an extra $150 to $200 bucks a month.

But in a nutshell, I wasn’t as frugal as most were and I only pocked on average, around $50 bucks extra each month. Though that was enough to pay for my car and keep it full of gas. On the other side of the coin though, if you went off the deep end, and actually owed more money than the extra cash that the navy gave us. You were basically on the hook for it, and had to take it out of your normal paycheck.

Because either way, the apartment complex, cable and telephone companies always got their money every month. We even had a few sailors that would go around bumming extra food or cash, from those of us guys who were able to manage our money a whole lot better then they did.

After following Matt to the complex, then to an office that was acting as our Official Ship’s Quarterdeck Area, which had the ship’s (or soon to be a ship’s logbook), a telephone, the petty officer and the messenger of the watch. Both of which were also dressed in civilian clothes, like Matt was. And after Matt introduced me to them, we started filling out all of the paperwork I needed in order to grab the extra cash that the navy was paying us.

Once all that was done, Matt took me around and showed me where everything else in the complex was. And as we were walking to the Laundromat and Mailbox, he said. “Be sure that you keep the door to your apartment locked and always use the tamper lock when you’re inside. Because one of the Pre-commissioning Commanding Officer (PCO) just got relieved for exposing himself to one of the cleaning ladies. Though he insisted that he just got out of the shower and was watching TV awhile drying off in the living room when the young lady walked in on him, needless to say, he got fired and another PCO was bumped up to replace him. And that new PCO hasn’t arrived yet.”

Then Matt also said. “You should also keep the Do Not Disturb sign in the slot along with the tamper lock. This way, your at least you’re triple protected, unless you actually need maid service of course.”

Quickly thinking to my self, “Well, that means no more jerking off with the doors unlocked anymore. As I’ve already tempted fate way too many times. And I’m way overdue for either an indecent exposure rap or at least a hard crash landing in jail for exposing myself in public.”

Once Matt opened the door to my new apartment, I could see exactly why the PCO got busted. Because once the front door was opened, you could see straight through the living room and into the shower. And if you were anywhere in that tunnel of death when the door was opened, you were caught like a cockroach on the wall when the kitchen lights were turned on. But despite that minor little inconvenience, I had a nice 4-room apartment to call home for a while.

It had a full kitchen / dining room combination, a bedroom, a living room and of course a bathroom. My kitchen had a stove, refrigerator, microwave and toaster along with all the associated pots, pans, dishes, glasses, cups and silverware, while the other half of the room consisted of a table with four chairs.

I had a 7-piece living room set with a sofa hide a bed combination, a chair, 2 end table, a cocktail table plus 2 lamps. The living room also had a telephone, TV and a VCR. My bedroom had 2 closets, 1 of which was a large walk in, a queen-sized bed, 2 night tables with 2 lamps, a second phone and an alarm clock radio combo. And finally the bathroom was the standard 3-piece with a tub / shower combination, a commode, a vanity sink and a medicine cabinet.

When Matt and I finished my nickel tour of the place, I bid him goodbye and unloaded my rental car. Next I did some minor unpacking, put the tamper lock on the door and dropped a deuce. 

Since I was already half naked, I decided to rub one out in Seattle Washington too. This was also the third state I’ve busted five nuts in since my almost 11 hours journey began earlier today.

After cleaning up and taking a leak, I was off to explore the sights and sounds of Seattle again. Plus I needed some food for the fridge and cupboards along with some hops and barley for my belly. On my way to the grocery store, man was I tired of hearing food shopping as they called it up north in Chicago and Wisconsin. I managed to spy a tattoo parlor and a strip club all within a few miles of my new apartment complex.

Then after making a mental note, that’s an old school and human version of today’s GPS. Of where they all were in relation to each other, just in case I was stumbling around drunk one night while I tried to bounce back and forth between them. I stopped at the grocery store to stock up on much needed supplies.

Once that task was accomplished, I headed back to my luxury suite, at least that’s what the great big green wooden sign out in front of the complex said anyway. Heck four rooms for free, was a deal by anyone’s standards. After putting my newly acquired groceries away, I stripping down to my birthday suit and grabbing a few beers. Then I laid butt ass naked on the sofa to watch some free cable TV.

But after just a few minutes I started to get really homesick for Wisconsin and Tori’s freshly fucked cheddar-bay biscuit. Because just like here, I would have had the whole weekend off if I was still up in Wisconsin with her. 

Because during the first 7 days of my 30 days travel leave, I missed banging nails by day and banging or nailing Tori by night. Plus unlike when I helped Chaz and Fay remodel their house, Tori offered a much better incentive and benefits package then they did.

However, I could never thank Chaz and Fay enough for teaching me how to drive, because Helen would have ended up being my last girlfriend if I didn’t have the wheels to drive up to Great Lakes with. And by the way, I missed my bright orange neon sign shaped like a Ford E100 Econoline van too.

But on the other hand, I couldn’t see Fay blowing me while I was trying to hang a door, like Tori did. Or could I see Fay letting me screw her after I shimmed and screwed in a brand new window either. But at least Fay was willing to show mw her naked body and loved watching me jerk off for her.

Needless to say, all those thoughts about banging, nailing and screwing only made my dick hard for the 7th time in the past 24 hours. Then just before I passed out with a stiff dick in my hand, I busted my 6th nut since I flew out of Syracuse New York earlier today.

Later when I woke up in the wee hours of the morning with a wine from the flight along with hops and barley from the beer, piss hard-on. My hand was still firmly wrapped around my shaft as if I just dozed off moments ago. But in reality, 6 hours had passed since I finished my beer, rubbed one out and fell asleep.

But the latest batch of cum on my abdomen, stomach, chest and hand was either all dried up or simply evaporated away overnight. After I finished pissing like a racehorse, my pee-pee boner quickly subsided. And I don’t know why, maybe because my memory of last night was still a bit fuzzy. But I decided to check the tamper lock before going back to bed for the night, or at least what was left of it.

And it was a good thing I decided to check, because I forgot to engage it before I passed out the earlier. Not that any maids would be coming around at four in the morning to clean your room. Now stopping by to clean your pipes was a whole different kind of cleaning service all together.

Hopefully those ladies charged you by the hour and not by the nut, so I could at least get my money’s worth out of one of them. Because if I really put my mind to it and stopped using my Ancient Chinese Secret (ACS). I could easily bust four or five nuts in an hour. And after engaging the tamper lock, I polished off the dregs of the beer I started last night. Then I headed off to the bedroom this time, and quickly fell back asleep. 

Saturday afternoon bored out of my mind and after my latest loss to the fist in the shower. I decided that I needed to blow off some steam. And since there’s no place better to blow off steam then in a strip club, that’s where we went. Also from what I’ve heard, the best strip clubs were up in Vancouver British Columbia, or just over the border in Canada.

And that’s where I spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening, with Richard and Rick. Richard was a Sonar Technician. Who gets to listen underwater for whales and submarines passing by or close to or under the ship. And he was the Petty Officer of the watch last night when I checked in.

While Rick, on the other hand was a Fire Controlmen. And they get to point the gun mount and fire it, along with aiming the missile launcher at targets to launch them at. He was the Messenger of the watch when I checked in. Since we were all in the Combat Systems Department by day, why not hang out together by night as well. 

When I checked in last night, they both invited me to join them this afternoon. They were going on a road trip to Vancouver British   Columbia and a strip club they planned on visiting. Now my view of strippers might be a bit tainted because I dated a stripper named Tori before moving here to Seattle.

But this one dancer even put Tori to shame, though she will always be my living pretzel. And for the life of me, I can’t remember her name or the exact year that she was most famous for. But it was somewhere around the year that I graduated from high school in the middle to late seventies. But anyway, the Disc Jockey introduced her as being Miss Nude Settle nineteen seventy something.

This lady, was in her late forties to early fifties tucked her head forward right between her honeydew melon-sized tits and danced around the stage on her fucking shoulders. And with both her legs just flailing away, she used them for balance.

And all I could think of was that I wanted to be sitting on the stage facing her with my balls in her mouth. Then she could keep moving her head from side to side giving me a nice Eskimo like kissing nose job and a titty fuck all at the same time.

Then in return for her kindness and generosity, I would be eating the hell out of her very exposed and accessible pussy while I kept my hands firmly planted on her hips for stability. Plus to prevent her from loosing her balance and hurting herself or me when she fell backwards with my head still buried between her legs. And since she was the featured dancer, I had no problem forking over the extra ten-dollar cover charge just to get in the door and watch her dance.

And it was a good thing that this particular gentleman’s club didn’t have any private rooms available. Because I would have easily giving her the thousand dollars plus that I still had burning a hole in my pocket. If she would have made that little dream of mine come true.

Man when you find a chick that can walk on her shoulders; the whole world is your oyster. (Pun intended) And just a little food for thought here, once you get the logistics worked out, because she’s a goner if her nose just happens to get stuck between the cheeks of your ass. Talk about showing someone where the wild goose goes, her goose would have been cooked instead.

And you also needed to work out a system like Lance and Lilly had. Where Lilly would pound on Lance’s leg the number of times equaling the seconds of breath Lilly thought she had left. And to give Lance credit, he never let Lilly pass out on him. He always let her grab a quick breath or two when she needed one, before he shoved his cock back down her throat for another round.

Despite all of her wonderful shoulder-work up on stage plus all of the dirty things I wanted to do with her. It only made me homesick for Tori more then I already was. I even broke down and built this dancer a Washington Monument, just north of Washington State, though I called my $21.00 structure the Space Needle in her honor, instead of calling it the Washington Monument.

And even though I hated to admit it, her show was actually more entertaining than Tori act was. That’s because Tori happened to be the only young lady that I saw doing an act like hers up on stage. I mean locking your legs behind her head, is one thing. But when you can also move around an elevated stage using her arms and flexing her abs and ass muscles, is a whole other ballgame.

Plus she was also able to move around from customer to customer too. I’m sure that there are tons of other young ladies who maybe double jointed, exceptionally athletic, very flexible, or heavily into acrobatics that could do some or all of what Tori could do.

Just like I’m also quite sure that only a small handful of young ladies could actually walk on their shoulders. And because I wanted to teabag my nads in her mouth while the shaft of my cock was hot-dogged between her tits. With my tongue and face buried deep between her titanic plates because I wanted to lick her magma layer hoping to watch her erupt. Plus I wanted to see just how high her internal volcano could spit lava into the air.

Does having dirty or partially soiled thoughts like that make me a bad person? But alas, that was my dream and I’m sticking to it. Miss Nude nineteen seventy something was about 5 foot 8 inches tall and weighed around 150 pounds and had brown eyes.

She had dirty blonde to light brown hair that was closely cropped in a pixie style that ended at her jaw line. She also had a two-inch wide well groomed patch of light brown pubic hair like a landing strip running between her legs.

Plus with her being in her late forties to early fifties, would also put her right around my mother’s age and talk about being a MILF long before MILF’s became so popular. And man, just think what this mature and much older, almost twice my age woman could have taught me about life, love and the pursuit of sexual happiness.

Now here’s my dilemma, if it wasn’t for the DJ announcing her. I wouldn’t have even bothered turning around to watch her act. But once I did, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. And now, I don’t even think I could even pick her out of a police lineup of grandma’s trying to steal cookies from girl scouts. Even though she was a living, breathing celebrity around the Vancouver and Seattle area.

But because I wasn’t a fan or live in the area, in the long run she was just another stripper as far as I was concerned. Though she was good for a couple of weeks or so worth of dreams to jerk off too and she was also someone that I would write home about, so I did it these pages here. 

Now with this latest alteration to my travel plans made. The thirty-five or so of us and future crewmembers, spent a little over an hour and half just walking around the ship’s weather decks. While we talked to each other about what part of the ship or areas we were responsible for. But I still spent a good ninety-percent of that time, just staring at and touching my missile launcher. But anyway, here’s how our tour went. 

The brow, gangplank, or gangway was on the fantail of the ship. Back in the days of old, that part of a vessel was commonly called the stern of the ship. But none the less, we were all required to wear our steel toe boots if we wanted to take the tour. And because that was part of our working uniform, that was a no-brainer. Then once we were on the fantail, the ship gave us hard hats, gloves and safety glasses to wear.

Both helicopter hanger doors were open to reveal some of the bowels or interior of the ship. And standing between them was the centerline passageway door wide-open and inviting us to enter. It was called that because it ran down the centerline of the ship and many decks (five) above the keel or the backbone of the ship.

The next set of doors or hatches we encountered on our little tour were the aft door to both helo or helicopter hangers on the left and right. Then on the right, there was one with a ladder or stairs leading down to the damage control deck, or the DC deck.

And it’s called that because it’s the first complete deck that runs fore to aft below the main deck. And right in front of, or forward of that door was the second one of the set. Which lead up to the Close in Weapons System (CIWS) or the Captain It Won’t Shoot, magazine and control-room, as some folks often referred to the letter C as being Come-on, Crap, or even Christ.

The next pair of doors as we walked forward were the front doors to the helicopter hangers, both port and starboard. They were more commonly referred to being hanger number 1 and hanger number 2 though.

Then next door we passed was on the left and it was the internal door to the torpedo magazine. And after poking our heads inside, we only saw some half round blocks welded to the deck or floor to cradle the torpedos in.

The next pair of open doors on the right, led down to the messdecks and up to the 76MM passageway, gun magazine and control room. That deck or floor was also at the top of the ship’s elevator run. Which ran from the reefer deck or pantry where all the ships food is stored, yes it included chill or fresh fruits and vegetables or refrigerator stuff along with all the frozen food or freezer stuff too.

Then just past the torpedo magazine was the athwart ship passageway, which back in the days of old meant that it ran all the way from the port side to the starboard side of the ship. It housed the hatches for the ship elevator and the passageway forward to officer’s country. That was where all the officers except the Captain (CO) and the Executive Officer (XO) slept. But still all the officers, including the CO and XO ate their meals there.

Next we exited the only internal portion of our tour, and headed back out onto the weather deck via the starboard side hatch. And Aft or behind us as we stepped out, were two more hatches. One was to the pyrotechnics locker, another name for a magazine without a sprinkler system installed, and the other one was the paint locker.

Just forward of the door we stepped out of, was the starboard trio of torpedo tubes. They were configured with a single tube centered over two lower tubes that sat side by side. The next door to the left before stepping out onto the forecastle was the flammable gas cylinder storeroom. And obliviously by it’s name. Is where all of the flammable gas cylinders will be stored on the ship.

And once we stepped through the door leading to the forecastle. Or the pointy end of the ship. There she was my missile launcher. And when our tour was over, we were taken down the port side of the ship. Past a door leading just forward of officers country and into the crews quarters, one deck below that.

Then just past the trio of port side torpedo tubes was the exterior door to the torpedo magazine. But we were shuttled back into the port side door of the athwart ship passageway then taken to the fantail and back down brow and onto the pier. Crap and I wanted to spend the whole day here now, not just a few hours.

Well at least it was lunchtime, so I might as well grab something to eat. Like fast food because I didn’t feel like cooking myself or having some local diner dude cook for me. After I finished my Big Mac and fries, I drove back to my apartment. And that’s when I officially made the decision that I was here and in the navy for the long hall.

And in order to celebrate this monumental and history making event in my life why not down a six pack of beer and jerk off one last time to Tori. Except that I pretended that Tabi was actually riding my Italian pony instead of Tori doing so. Although that wasn’t the last time either, because when I woke up again at 0330. With this huge hops and barley piss filled hard-on, I figured if the hair of the dog was a good cure for a hangover.

Then most likely, jerking off to your stripper ex girlfriend would easily take care of a boner too. So I did both and after cleaning up, I threw on a pair of shorts because I like letting the boys hang free and loose. Plus it always allowed the past lovers and hopefully my future ones too, easy access to my goods a.k.a. my manly parts.

And I stepped out to grab the bags that were still in the trunk of my rental car. Because I figured as long as I'm staying, I might as well unpack my stuff too. 

Well at least you can count on the weather being bad here in Seattle, even at 4 in the morning. Then after spending a little over an hour or so putting all my shit away, I was bored, horny and hungry. And the perfect cure for the first two was to have sex, but since I didn’t have a willing partner handy. I might as well take matters into my own hands, and that’s when my mind drifted back to Anna and Grove City Ohio.

Anna really missed out on me floating her little man in the boat. Because I would have eaten that old ladies pussy so good, she would have begged me to fuck the shit out of her too. But there’s no since in crying over missed opportunities to spill seed, because there’s always more seed to spill at another time, in another place or in another woman.

After that quick self-induced hand job and half a box of cheerios, I was off to the water closet and get ready for a 0800 muster. That’s like a roll call or when your teacher takes attendance in school. It’s just to make sure that everyone is present and or accounted for.

But I still shouldn’t bash this damp and dreadful place so bad. Heck it’s only been foggy, rained, drizzled, misted or outright down poured since I got here almost 5 full days ago. After all tomorrow it might be a bight and sunny day, who knows? At muster, Matt just happened to mention that since he’s been here, a little over a month, it’s been like that six out of every seven days so far.

So after morning muster, I decided it was high time that I bought me some duck clothes. Because at all costs and going commando everyday I wanted to keep my feathers, meaning my dick and balls dry. And after a brief stop up in my room to change out of my dungarees, our official working uniform. I was off to find a shopping mall or anyplace that sold trench coats, umbrellas, rubbers and goulashes.

And that’s where I met this delightful sales girl, who just so happened to be working at that particular department store when I walked in. She was an inch or two shorter than I was and about 5-foot 7-inches tall and weighted around 140 pounds soaking wet.

She had dark brown hair that ended just past her collarbone. She had hazel eyes that matched mine perfectly and what appeared to be a healthy set of orange sized tits. But because of the loose shirt and smock she wore, she could have been hiding watermelons under her clothes for all I knew.

Not being a local or accustomed to rotten weather day in and day out. I asked this local and resident chick, what she recommended to stay dry. Then it was just like a local to pull a play right out of my very own book, when she laughed and said. “Good morning sir, my name is Eve and we just stay indoors.”

With a quick and recently developing low-pressure system building up deep in my loins, meaning below my belt and equator and all due to her cute little laugh. I simply replied. “That would be easy if I lived with a lovely young lady such as yourself. But since I’m wadding through all these dam puddles alone right now, I need rubbers or something else to help me keep my feet dry.” 

Giggling now, as Eve pointed down to her light brown calf high boots that almost matched her hair perfectly, and she confessed. “Most folks around here wear boots when they go out.”

After shaking my head in disbelief, I sarcastically replied. “DH miss, though I might have been born at night it wasn’t last night. I was just curious if I should get a pair of rubbers, calf high’s like you’re wearing now, or a pair of thigh highs boots or even a pair of hip wader’s to keep my manly parts dry too.”

Laughing her ass off now, Eve managed to sputter out. “We don’t sell rubbers here; maybe you should try a drug store? And they will only help by keeping some of your manly parts dry.”

When Eve’s laughs started to settle down, I cut in by saying. “I don’t mind if my flute gets wet. As a matter of fact, I would prefer that it got wet at least 4 or 5 times a day if I had my choice and a willing partner to assist me, of course.”

Blushing now while trying to hide an extremely cute looking smile, Eve said. “Sir, I believe you’re trying to seduce me.”

And within a single heartbeat, I simply replied. “My name is Larry. And if it’s working, then yes I’m trying to seduce you. But if it’s not, then I’ll just have to try a little bit harder, perhaps over coffee, or maybe even lunch, if you’re hungry of course.”

After briefly looking at her watch, and pausing for a long moment Eve said. “Sounds good to me, meet me in the Café next door in about a half-hour. And by the way, I would get the calf high boots if I were you, because they also help protect you from splashes too.”

Then being the nice little Italian boy from a good family that I am, I slowly took Eve’s hand in mine and raised it to my lips. Then looking deep into her hazel eyes, I said. “Eve dear, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Since I arrived in this damp and foggy city almost a week ago, I’ve been stumbling around looking for a ray of sunshine. And now because of you, my future doesn’t look as bleak and lonely as it did just 30 minutes ago.”

After I slowly freed Eve’s hand from my grasp, I continued by saying. “Eve, thank you very much for your advice on the boots and I’ll take a pair in black.”

When I finished paying for my new fancy footwear and bag in hand. I stepped back out into the Seattle weather and then in my rented car. But by the time I got there, the bottoms of my jeans were soaked from the rain and all the splashes from everyone else around me.

Not to mention that my feet were still damp from the short walk to my car from my apartment. Followed by a longer walk from my car to the department store where Eve worked, then back out to my rented car again.

After slipping my fancy duck wear on, I thought that I looked a little bit too limp-wristed for my tastes. Plus they also reminded me of my last steward Ken, and something he would wear with his pant legs safely tucked inside. And I also looked like a cheesy cowboy that belonged in one of those old spaghetti westerns.

So for safety sake, mostly mine and since I was a modern man of the mid 1980’s, I decided to wear them on the outside of my boots as I styled and profiled like Rick Flair would. Since he was my favorite professional wrestler of all time and he wouldn’t be caught dead with his pants tucked into his boots either. Or so I thought, , at least until I got out of my car and stepped back outside and into the typical Seattle weather. And I tucked the legs of my jeans into both of my new boots.

And while I was walking to the coffee shop, I quickly thought to myself. “Maybe I should have gone with the hip waders instead. But on a bright note for this dark and dismal day, I only had about 15 minutes or so left before my rendezvous and lunch date with Eve started.