This was my first encounter was with a married woman. A sailor sex story.
I was single at the time, about as horny as a 22-year-old sailor overseas can get, but short enough of the cash, or “personality” necessary to get laid by one of the hundreds of bar girls in Olongapo City, Philippines, to venture off base.
So I settled on a couple of drinks at the enlisted club and heading back to my ship for the night. I never thought of myself as capable of adultery, but the ease that this first time happened riveted itself in my memory ever since.
It was just a little past seven PM on a warm monsoon evening in the Philippines. The sun had just set, and the breeze shifted bringing the unique aroma of beer, barbecue, sewage, and young women, that any Westpac sailor during the 40 some odd years after World War II could tell you that only one place in the entire world smelled like; Olongapo City at Naval Station Subic Bay. Whatever the mixture of pheromones, the smell of that little town on a warm tropical night was enough to give any young lad an erection just reminiscing about it back home in Iowa.
But there would be no overnight in the “Po” for me this evening. Short of cash and payday still a week away, I settled for swinging by the Acey-Duecy club for a few beers, Armed Forces TV, and an early night back to the ship.
Excuse me sir…
I was just crossing the street near the base ATT phone exchange when just behind me, I heard “excuse me, sir” in the voice of a woman in an unmistakable American Midwest accent.
I turned towards it and there was a blond thirty-ish-looking woman in knee length pants and a well-filled blouse opened to the third button and revealing the cleavage and swell of the biggest set of boobs I’d seen in 5 months. I mumbled something like “can I help you” trying to ignore the feeling that I’d just been kicked in the groin.
Well, she was looking for someone to help her with some change and how to use one of those new international phone charge cards to call San Diego. I ignored the idea that any woman would not know how to use a telephone and offered to help. Not so much out of any helpfulness on my part as much as the possibility of getting a peek at her chest!
So I walked onto the phone exchange with her, helped her work the coin changers, and dial into the international line. I even found the number she was looking for at the Chaplain’s office at COMNAVSURFPAC. I watched as she bent down to take her change out of the machine. She wore a low cut bra and I could see a generous pink moon rise above the top edge. God, she was built!
I was getting ready to go when she stopped me and asked me to wait until she made a couple of phone calls so she could thank me.
I kicked around for about 30 minutes while she conducted her business, getting more and more thirsty for the beer that was waiting for me, and just a little annoyed for letting myself get hooked into standing around waiting for some dumb broad with big tits living overseas that didn’t even know how to place an international phone call.
Finally, she came out, thanked me profusely, didn’t know how she could thank me enough and, hey where are you going anyway? To get on with the story, she asked me to come with her back to her friend’s house over in base housing, she’d get us some drinks for my trouble. We got in a base cab and she began to explain her problems to me, getting more and more familiar, her hands began to find there way to my shoulders, my knees. As her story got more involved so did her hands, she found my thighs, my inner thighs, by the time we got to the other side of the base on Cubi Point housing they were right up to my crotch.
She began leaning on my shoulder and I could feel her breath on my neck, and her hair on my cheek. I was getting a hard-on and it began to dawn on me that I had a hot and horny married woman on my hands. She began talking softer, and getting closer to me, asking me if I liked white wine, and wouldn’t it be nice to spend an evening in a real bed. Our lips met just as the cab turned down her street.
Her house was typical base housing, a screened porch, an airy cottage built for the tropics. There was no girlfriend there of course, but there was a bottle of chilled wine, a soft bed, and dim lighting. We laid down together and began to make out. Her tongue was all over me, God she was hot.
We began to undress each other. I don’t remember how or when her blouse got off, I just became aware that we were both in our underwear embracing and french kissing. Then I felt the unmistakable imprint of erect nipples against my own bare skin and the loveliest set of boobs I’d ever kissed.
Then the wine and her cologne began to work, and everything seemed to be in a swoon. I felt her mouth engulf my cock. Then against her pubic hair, her breath getting deeper and measured, hands pushing me down, further down, kissing her navel, nosing through her hair, the salty taste of her pussy, her light groans, feeling her clitoris swell in my lips.
She began to lubricate and open up, then buck her hips into my face. At one point her thighs locked tightly around my head, I could feel her tense as a salty flood seemed to wash into my mouth and lips. My face was a mess of hair, and pussy juice.
I heard her say “You want me?”. “Yes,” I answered. I didn’t at that point if it was a sin or not. “Fuck me, then, please don’t tease me, I want to fuck you.”
That was the first time in my life a woman actually asked me to fuck her that in itself was almost enough to pop my nut.
We went straight to missionary, and I can never describe how good she felt inside. She was so warm and silky. Her voice made sounds like it was coming from deep inside her. Her legs locked around mine and we rode each other for all we were worth. Too soon I felt my balls begin to boil, I knew I was coming, but I didn’t want too. I tried to squeeze my cock, but it only seemed to make the feeling more intense.
“Let it go” I heard her say, “I’m protected honey, I want to feel you shoot inside me”. That did it. I released, feeling my semen fill my cock and then flood her cunt. I hadn’t cum for a week and I must have shot five or six times and by the time I stopped my balls ached and felt myself spasm for a second or two. I completely spent myself.
I fell asleep in her arms, those big warm tits against my lips. Early next morning she rode with me back to the pier. I wanted to see her again, but she didn’t think we should and kissed me gently on the lips one last time. I thought about her for several days, I’d look for her on base, in the exchange, or at the club, but never saw her again. Soon we were underway, steaming back to the “war”, and I never saw her again. Except in my dreams.
SEX OVERSEAS is a classic sailor sex story presented by eroticprose.com. The home of sexy stories and Literotica.