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When I joined the Navy, all my prior experience really came in handy. Every time I had liberty, which was quite often, I would have sex with at least one man and most of the time it was more than one. When I first got to San Diego I would walk from downtown to the roller skating rink which was about 5 or 6 blocks. I would always wear the same clothing which consisted of Penny Loafers with no socks, chinos which had an elastic waist so I didn't need a belt, and no underwear, and a shirt that buttoned down the front. I would always unzip my pants at the beginning of the walk, and normally I wouldn't walk more than a block before a car would stop and ask if I wanted a ride. I always said yes and I would get into the car. As soon as I sat down my right hand would go under my shirt and I would unbutton my pants and make sure that my cock was free of my pants but still covered by my shirt. I didn't want to expose myself. I had a rule that the man had to start everything and that I would be. That’s what I thought when he shoved his fingers deep inside me. He twisted and rolled them in ways I’d never felt. I watched his eyes flicker with every breath escaping my mouth. It didn’t really matter. Because he knew exactly what I was wanting. And he gave to me the most giving. He made a fires flame nothing but a mere kiss. He ignited me somewhere I was dead. Because he touched me. I watched the expressions on his face. The way his hands held me down. The beads of sweat he wiped from my face. The gentle way his tongue entered inside of me. The way he gazed deep into my eyes during penetration. He caught my every movement. He heard my every sound. And I found that I knew nothing about him. And I found that it didn’t matter. His hands slid over my breasts, over my ribs, and down to my hips. His fingers were pushed into my mouth and I felt his finger prints on my tongue. And his hands, they cupped my breasts, which longed to be toyed and caressed. He pulled and pinched and twisted.
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