The Jag Officer

My career as an independent film producer had begun several years ago. Back then during the early 90's I had made commercials for household products. After a few years I was tiring of peddling laundry detergents and body soaps and other junk to maids and other women. I decided to move on and look for a different theme. I also felt that I could find work other than for a giant corporation.

That Monday morning my office phone rang just moments after my colleague and I had arrived.

"Hello," said a woman whose voice was not familiar, " is this Steven Ballo?"

"Speaking," I answered.

"This is Lieutenant Jamison calling from the public relations department of the navy. We would like you to produce a commercial for us."

"I would be happy to," I replied.

"Good. You can get together with our people and work out the details."

I turned to Richard, my director and friend since we began in the business.

"That was the United States navy."

" Where and when do we start?"

"Immediately," I answered.

The burly marine guard looked at my visitor badge identifying me as Gemstone Productions and allowed me enter the Florida base. Building 1401 at Milton, Florida turned out to be a white structure with a pitched roof.

We stopped for a second to get a bering. Off to one side I could see the parked aircraft. Aside from being the media liaison center, this was also the home of the 5th air wing.

My arrangements made, I moved on to locations to begin filming. My first stop would be the Norfolk navy yard. Situated near the mouth of the James River this was the home of the Atlantic Fleet. It was an impressive sight and not different from the way I remembered it as a boy seeing it from a tour ferry. Gray warships rested tied to peer one after along the bank. A forest of electronics masts touched the blue sky.

On a clear warm day we filmed a missile cruiser transiting the Chesapeake headed toward the open sea. In my mind I wrote the script to go with this ship as a background. All that remained was to find a sailor to say the lines. A hunch led me to the JAG office, a red brick building.

The Lieutenant Commander stood six foot four with muscular arms in short sleeve white shirt. I looked straight into his brown eyes, shook his hand with a firm grip and introduced myself saying also that I was here to make a short promotional film for the navy.

"Your public relations department contacted me the other day."

"Welcome aboard," said the tall, handsome sailor, " I'm Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb."

He's gorgeous I thought. I'll bet he's got some muscles under that uniform. A muscular male body could drive me mad with desire.

"I want you to read some lines for me."

"I'd be honored." He smiled at me.

A few other officials from the office came by perhaps out of curiosity. One by one Harmon introduced them starting with the young lady in a marine dress uniform.

"This is colonel Sarah MacKenzie."

The brunette girl shook my hand. "It's nice to meet you."

To her left stood a tall, bald, fit looking gentleman. He stepped forward offering his hand.

"I'm admiral A. J. Chegwidden. I run this office."

The admiral's grip was firm.

"What happens in this office?" I looked at Harmon for an answer.

"JAG," he replied, "Judge Advocate General. We're the Navy's legal staff."

The administrative side of the service held no allure for me. I needed just to get a face to put on the camera. Any filming aboard ship should be natural rather than posed.

My mind was already working on how to use the footage as well as the theme of the film. The idea was to have Harmon say his lines against the backdrop of a warship putting to sea in defense of America. I could stress the opportunity to serve the country. I could stress the opportunity to learn a vital skill that one could bring to civilian life.

Harm began to read the lines with the poise of a polished actor. I was impressed immediately.

The shooting finished I approached Commander Rabb. My gaydar was picking up signals from him.

"How long have you been in the navy?"

"I went to the academy after high school. I flew F14s from the Enterprise for five years then I went to law school and I've been a lawyer for five."

I added up 14 years.

"How long do you plan to stay?"

"Twenty, maybe thirty," he replied.

"I was in the army for a while."

My comment was guarded.

"How long is a while?"

"One year," I admitted.

"A short time," he replied.

My time in the army had been cut short by undesirable discharge after being caught with a thirty something year old high school teacher. Darren and I had been seeing one another for some three months since meeting at The Male Box in Clearwater, Fla. I had been on a 48 hour leave just after the end of boot camp and just before Ranger training.

"I enjoyed flying."

Harm's options were open to him. I could see him flying commercial airplanes. I could also visualize him litigating.

"Why did you give it up?"

"I developed a little night vision problem. Vision has to be twenty twenty night and day."

"What happened to you? Why did you leave the army?"

"Let's walk and talk."

"OK," he replied.

That said we went outside JAG headquarters for a walk through the grounds. The signals from my gaydar were coming through stronger. I could see where Harmon's glance went.

"I was caught kissing a man."

After a few seconds he responded. "Colonel MacKenzie and I are friends. We have been for a long time but just friends. I prefer men."

"I figured as much," I said.

" I don't want to throw away my career. Five more years, and a few promotions gets me a nice pension."

"I thought getting tossed would bother me but I got over it." I said.

He grinned ear to ear. I guessed that I had struck a chord.

"Are you involved?"

"No," I answered, "Richard is straight with a wife and two small children."

"I've got to get back to work."

"Yeah me too," I answered.

The U.S.S. Mitscher , guided missile destroyer number 57, stood tied to pier number 24 at the Norfolk navy yard awaiting orders to go to sea. Having made the arrangements i went aboard with Richard. I thought it fitting that the 505 foot by 59 foot gray warship was commissioned on Independence day.

One one one it's crew came aboard dressed in summer whites. Though not allowed to film certain sensitive areas of the ship such as Combat Information Center I could get interesting footage from the deck and the bridge.

Captain Peterson sat in a chair against the back wall of the bridge. Tall, dark haired, with brown eyes he looked to be not much older then me. I shook his hand.

"Your PR people asked me to do a promotional film."

By now I had begun thinking about this project as an hour long documentary. It would cover all aspects of being in the navy.

"Well it's good to have you aboard. We'll offer any cooperation we can."

"Just do your jobs."

As the ship transited the bay toward the open sea I began filming. The bridge, gun turret, masts, missiles, and certain crew members all were captured by the camera.

The UH1 helicopter reved up it's two Pratt and Whitney turboshaft engines making a deafening roar. Carrying me and my colleagues and equipment it lifted off from the stern of the destroyer heading back to the navy yard.

Longing to make a date with Commander Rabb, I made my way back to his Falls Church office. Arriving during late afternoon hoping he would still be there, I knocked three times.

"Come in," he said.

At the moment I walked inside Harm was gathering up some papers on his desk.

"Trial?"

"Yeah," he answered, " mostly exhibits."

I had no interest other than that.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out for a bite to eat."

He nodded, locked his office just as we exited and walked beside me toward the front door. We walked past desks and partitions and walled offices. Some land locked sailors looked up from their desks. Most paid no attention. Harmon and I were going out on our first date.

A red Corvette was parked about 60 feet from the door among an assortment of sedans and station wagons.

"This is my pride and joy." He looked at the sports car.

"Nice car," I replied and opened the passenger door to get inside.

After a short ride we came to a modest Washington D.C. apartment just a few minutes from the JAG building. He led me inside.

"I renovated this myself."

"Nice work,"

"I enjoyed doing it."

He walked into a room gesturing me to remain behind in the living room for a moment. Just a moment later Harm re entered the living room wearing civilian clothes; blue denim, black sneakers, a gray polo shirt. We headed outside as two civilian friends.

The scenery rushed past us at 65 to 70 miles an hour. Blues music playing through the CD player entertained us during the long ride up to the Virginia capital.

"I play some guitar."

"Professionally?"

"Just to entertain myself," he answered.

"I'd like to hear you play."

"You will," he answered.

Walking into the Barcode at 6 East Green Street in Richmond we sat in a booth just left of the door at the bay window. "I like seafood."

"The shrimp is pretty good here," Harm replied.

"The men are not bad to look at either."

He chuckled at my remark. "You ought to be in my dreams."

"Maybe I can be," I remarked grinning.

The back patio was spot for lovers. Having finished our meal Harm and I walked out side holding hands and sat. Our lips puckered and met then our mouths opened and our tongues probed. We caressed.

It lasted just seconds but it wet our appetites for each other. I wanted to hold his gorgeous body against mine all through the night. I knew he wanted me. We stared into each other's eyes,

Darkness had set in while Harm and I made small talk. He loved flying and missed it. He mentioned his private plane, a yellow bi wing. His career as a lawyer meant a lot.

"I love the law," he said, "but flying is in my blood."

"I would like to see the effect my commercial will have on recruiting."

"I'm sure it'll be positive."

Romantic feelings were swelling up inside both of us. By now I took his hands in mine. He looked into my blue eyes.

"The last name is Italian," I said, "from Abruzzi province."

"Were you born there?"

"My parents were," I said, " I was born here."

Econo Lodge west located about ten miles from the airport seemed like an attractive place to spend an evening together or at least a cheap one. Harmon also knew of the place. A short ride brought us to the 61 room, two floor hotel.

Approaching the reservation desk I drew my wallet and pulled my Visa card from it .

"The room is on me."

The room became a discreet love nest. Longing for this moment, we pulled our bodies against one another. Our lips met as we caressed. In just a few seconds we had stripped each other completely. Harm eased me to the mattress keeping his warm body and raging hardon against me. He rolled me onto my side. Inch by inch his seven inch member slid into my hole. I moaned softly showing my intense pleasure while it slid forward and back repeatedly.

In the morning I followed him into the shower thinking about more than just cleanliness. We looked at one another. While he bathe I gently stroked his organ until it stiffened in my hand then closed my hand around it. We moved around one another. While I washed, his hand squeezed my buttocks and two fingers penetrated it. Sex in the morning was brief but enjoyable.

His 48 hour liberty coming to a close, Harmon was getting ready to return to the JAG office. We had spent the entire time together enjoying the city. I was looking forward to spending much more time with him.

My production finished, I had no more reason to be on the grounds. We said our goodbyes outside the gate.

"Call me the next time you have liberty."

"I will," he replied and turned away. I watched him all the way to the building.