Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 101 Message-ID: 456k96$h8u@newsbf02.news.aol.com Reply-To: joefri714@aol.com (JoeFri714) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com
I guess it will surprise no one that ocean-going ships--especially military vessels, which go to sea for extended periods--can become vast theatres of assorted masturbatory practices. Amost two decades ago, I was a young Boatswain's Mate on a relatively small ship (about 3000 tons) in the USCG. Our deployments often took us out for as long a three months, and so a considerable degree of horniness was attained by the crew at large.
Of course, girlie magazines were part and parcel of shipboard life, and like many of my shipmates, I had basically two collections--one stack of magazines which I traded around as a sort of barter currency, and a few kept hidden away in a private stash, owing to their ability to arouse. For me, any shot in a magazine which showed a model with her hand positioned on or near her clit got me hot in no time (I was and am to this day preoccupied with female masturbation), and so I had a few cherished copies of PENTHOUSE and HUSTLER salted away for my masturbation sessions.
I lived in a berthing compartment which housed thirty men, so finding the privacy in which to indulge in some autoerotic prick pumping might seem a bit of a challenge. However, a system had emerged. Each of our bunks ("racks") featured a set of blue curtains, ostensibly to keep us from being awakened by the overhead lights when we were entitled to sleep in--after midwatch, for instance, or on Holiday Routine--but their potential to provide a bit of seclusion in which to jack off could hardly have escaped the randy teenagers like myself and my mates. A sort of crude signal evolved: when one of the worthless, napless white towels issued to us for the showers was hung outside the curtain, then it was regarded as a "Do Not Disturb; I'm Busy Beating Off" sign. Looking back, it seems really quite remarkable that this signal was so universally accepted and respected by, to be honest, a bunch of immature kids. I guess none of us wanted to have the tables turned on him later, so we never clowned around with trying to catch someone in the act.
Not that I didn't catch a couple anyway--strictly in line of duty. One of my duties while on watch was to rouse the oncoming watch section from their bunks at the time they requested in the Wake- Up Log. At night this job took me into all the berthing areas at what was, for most guys, prime meat-beating time. I had to move quietly out of respect for those in the compartment who were not going on watch, and a couple of times I either surprised someone in the act or arrived in time to see the evidence of his activities. I once descended into the Operations Berthing area on rounds and was assailed by the strong aroma of semen filling the compartment, as if all thirty men in there had been beating off that night, for that unmistakeable scent (I had smelled my own a few thousand times) was far too strong to have been from one or two loads of spunk.
I once went into the engineering berthing compartment to wake up one of the snipes for watch and stumbled across George, the Machinist's Mate I was to awaken, flogging his cock in his bunk. I could see him quite clearly through a gap in his curtain, as he pumped his slippery erection with his left hand, a copy of PENTHOUSE in his right. I could see that he was jerking off to one of my favorite photos, of a cute blonde dragging her finger theough her slit, her face a mask of pleasure. He was close by the time I got there and shortly his strokes speeded up and he shot his load onto his abdomen with a few stifled grunts which I could just hear above the throb of the engines. I waited a little longer, to give him time to collect himself, then opened and closed the watertight door again so that he would know I had come in.
He was feigning sleep when I peered into his bunk, and I woke him up as if nothing had happened. I had never seen another person masturbate in reality, and though I am a atraight person sexually, the sexual energy of that moment had an arousing effect on me, and I masturbated later that night imagining that scene, and also fantasizing about a circle jerk in which my friends and I all jacked off to dirty movies together. I like the idea of group masturbation because it diminishes the one drawback to this otherwise wonderful sport--it is a solitary activity and prone to loneliness.
I hope this post will encourage others to contribute, since the group is becoming crowded with posts of overwhelming irrelevance to the group's title. Stop lurking and start posting!