Part 1.
It was a muggy summer evening; we girls were enjoying a pleasant after dinner drink on the balcony of a rather smart hotel overlooking the river Dart. Conversation was jovial and took the usual saucy turn amid our giggling and laughter. We were in full flow, when a very elegant looking lady, complete with a large gin & tonic approached us and asked if she could join us.
An Introduction to Able Seaman Miller.
I have to admit at this point, she was somewhat more than a little tiddly. A smile all round indicated that no one objected. Her hat, she had obviously been at some sort of function, was decidedly askew. She took her place among us before raising her glass to indicate to the waiter that she wanted attention. None of the rest of us had that sort of confidence.
"A round of drinks, on my account young man."
"Quite so madam," the young waiter acknowledged.
Once all was settled, the lady introduced herself.
"My name is (with my formal title) Lady Virginia Frances Nicasov-Kwic."
That was a surprise, a real 'Lady', wanting to join our 'elite' group. But hey ho, we are all girls together aren't we? And what a name, there was promise of a few stories there!
"Rather an unusual name dear." I suggested.
"Which part of it?" She sipped her G & T
"Well, all of it, why not introduce yourself?"
"OK." She cleared her throat. "Of course, at prep school I was simply Virginia Frances Bellend. You know how children shorten names, I was inevitabluble nick named Virgin Fanny!"
We giggled at the pronunciation of inevitably; clearly she was not on her first g & t!
"When I moved to public school, I won't say which one, Virgin Fanny followed me. I can reassure you, the Fanny may have remained for all the years of my education. In my pleasure, the Virgin was lost along with my virginity. That however may be a story for another time."
We nodded, spell bound.
"As for my surname... what can I say? I was so fortunate to meet and marry, the then Captain, and now after various promotions, Vice Admiral Sir Raymond 'Ripper' Nicasov-Kwic probably the only guy I could hope to meet that would equal my appetite for sex."
"A typical sailor, when he was home, and as he progressed it was more and more, I usually had sufficient sex to keep my vagina adequately lubricated with the best cream."
The temptation for me was also in the naval life. As an admiral, living in 'quarters' we had 'staff', watch keeper, stewards, and defaulters, the task of attending us, supplementing our regular civilian staff for chores and dinner help when needed.
Strictly speaking, it was considered inappropriate for Senior Officer's wives to fraternise with other ranks. That of course didn't take account of the needs of the woman, the temptation presented by the varied selection of presentable young sailors or even the 'harmless' flirting. All of which were inclined to undermine the division of 'status' which primarily existed in the 'public face'.
Sailors, of every rank and nationality travel the world enjoying the cultures throughout. Social occasions abound and I am sure there are few serving men who don't enjoy the flavours of the ports of call. Their wives of course, twiddle their fingers and dispel the boredom in whatever manner they choose.
Personally, I enjoy my gin, and whatever other diversion I can think of some are more than a little naughty. And, I do have some very naughty thoughts. Like for instance sailors, also called seamen, and do I ever, ever, ever love semen?
My old man, 'The Old Man' as his officer colleagues called him when they weren't using his less respectful nick name , 'Ripper', is, how should one say this, well blessed or more candidly, he has, in the vernacular, a big dick.
When he was home, and was not otherwise occupied, I was very well serviced. Trust me, there is little more satisfying than good fornication with a big penis and I was...satisfied...regularly.
My problem reared its head when Ripper wasn't available to provide the service. Not necessarily when he was aboard, sometimes he had to work in the MOD in London for weeks at a time. I call it a problem, but it wasn't really a problem, I was just randy and in need of satisfaction.
It wasn't of course a 'one off' situation and I cannot believe that Ripper thought for one moment that I didn't satisfy my urges when he was absent. There have been a number of sailors who really should have been grateful to Ripper for their privileges.
I really did let my hair down at times. When the term defaulters was used in my hearing, my blood raced, bits of me, use your imagination, became engorged, and lust filled my heart.
Defaulters were the sinners, perpetrators of minor misdemeanours, and they came to clean vehicles, do the garden, sometimes overnight so that there was a presence in the house.
Dusty was a particular favourite of mine, and at least twice every time Ripper was up at the MOD, Dusty was on defaulters, usually night watches. Able Seaman Miller, always minor punishments, which both he and I thoroughly enjoyed. If you get my meaning.
I first met dusty one July evening; I was in a first floor room, gin and tonic in my hand this one having been preceded by several gin and tonics. It was a fairly normal evening and the events were not in the least unusual.
First, there was the rhythmic tread of a marching squad, then, the crunch of the gravel as the half dozen defaulters in the charge of a petty officer wheeled into the drive way and were brought to the halt at the gate to the servants quarters. (Back door to the kitchen actually)
"Miller" barked the Petty Officer.
"Aye" responded Miller
"This house will be safe under your watchful eye Miller for the next three nights. Everything you need you will find in the watch cabin."
"Stand fast the rest. Miller fall out."
Miller duly fell out, and was posted to his night watch, the remainder being marched off by the Petty Officer, their measured rhythmic crunching steps on the gravel fading until they no longer disturbed the evening quiet.
Miller glanced up to my window as he turned to take post. The watch keeper's cabin was on the ground floor of the Admiralty Senior Officer's quarters, at the back of the kitchen and the steward's pantry.
Miller would be the only male on site after the day staff had left. It would be Miller's duty to ensure my safety, the security of the building, and to provide incidental services such as supplying me with coffee or refreshments should I so desire.
The steward, Jenkins, provided a brief tour of the house and the kitchen, the cold store, coffee facilities and his night refreshments. The watch cabin was small, cosy and functional, containing a bed, table, chair, television and telephone connected to the base's main switchboard. On the wall was a bell, with which the watch keeper could be summoned.
During the steward's tour, Miller, in square rig but hat less was introduced to me.
"Madam, your defaulter for the next few nights, Able Seaman Miller."
Miller came smartly to attention.
"What Do I call you Miller?"
"Dusty, Madam if you wish."
"Dusty will do, I think every Miller in the navy is called Dusty, doesn't need much imagination to know why does it?"
"No Madam." Dusty smiled.
It was a very seductive smile I might add. They departed and all was quiet again. I lolled into my easy chair with a gin and switched on the radio, some classical concert somewhere, filled the air with swelling strings.
The heavy front door slammed shut and the keys rattled in the lock. The steward called goodnight and the backdoor closed noisily and again the sound of the keys then silence descended again and the music sparkled in the air.
These nights could become very boring, and even lonely, no-one but myself for company. I rang the bell. I knew it would take a few minutes for there to be any response.
There was a light tap at the door.
"Come!"
The door opened and Dusty stepped smartly in.
"Yes m'am."
"Pot of coffee Dusty please?"
"Aye ma'am."
He disappeared once more to return after about a quarter of an hour bearing a silver salver with coffee, cream, sugar and crockery.
"Only one cup Dusty? You will need to get used to me, two cups at this time of night if you don't mind. Deploy and secure another please."
"Aye m'am."
Again he disappeared, returning with the second cup.
"Thanks Dusty, now pour the coffee, you do drink coffee don't you."
"Yes m'am, thank you m'am."
Obviously, Dusty had been made aware of his punishment duty as he was clearly in his Number1s. Immaculately pressed and brushed right down to well pressed bell bottom trousers complete with seven crisp horizontal creases.
"Take a seat Dusty, relax."
He took a seat on the opposite side of the plush carpet from where I was seated on the brocade upholstered chaise.
"No Dusty, over here, I want to talk and I don't wish to shout."
He joined me.
"Is the house secure?"
"All locked up m'am."
"Married Dusty?"
"No m'am, foot loose and fancy free, typical Jack." He smiled that seductive smile.
"I'm married you know."
"Yes m'am."
"Do you know my husband?"
"I have seen him, but I don't know him personally. Ripper isn't it?"
"Well, Vice Admiral Sir Raymond Nicasov-Kwic."
"That isn't what he's called on the lower decks."
"Which is?"
"I'd rather not say m'am, it's not very respectful."
"Go ahead, I want to know."
"It's old 'rip her knickers off quick' m'am."
I laughed out loud. Dusty, unnaturally for a man of his calling, blushed.
"It's a play on words, his name, m'am."
"Yes, yes, I understand Dusty; I have lived with the name for long enough."
We sat for a few minutes with our coffee.
