Chronicles Of Chris Ch 10

Great thanks to my editor Dr. Bob80 and for the insights of leftyloo and lancerval.

This is the continuing story of Chris Peters, a young man who is beginning his life. If you are joining the story now, you're gonna be lost. I'd suggest starting a little earlier.

Just a reminder, this story is based on my brother's life. It is fictionalized; however, the progression is much as his life has gone. I have taken liberties to make the story flow more smoothly.

For those who have been following along; thank you and welcome back.

******************************

Holy shit! Those were the longest fucking ninety days of my life. I had just graduated from basic training and was on my way to O'Hare Airport with all the guys that were left from my company. There had been about ninety of us when we started. Now there were about seventy-five of us. Some guys got hurt, some guys couldn't take it and the Navy washed them out and civilian law caught up with a couple of others.

I was headed to Memphis for training, AT-"A" School. Let me explain that AT means Aviation Electronic School with "A" meaning Primary School. Technically, I was headed to Naval Air Technical Training Command in Millington, Tennessee. (NATTC Millington, TN)

The trip was uneventful. We were just a bunch of dumb, raw, shaved-headed "newbies". Trust me; we stuck out like proverbial sore thumbs. Everywhere we went, our slick, shiny heads stuck out, in the airports, and even on the base. We arrived on base early on a Friday afternoon and I found my room assignment. I found I was assigned to a six man room, which, after living with as many as ninety guys for the previous three months seemed to be the lap of luxury. Naturally, the guys that were in my room were all my age, or close enough. They all greeted the "newbie" with good-natured ribbing about my general lack of hair and body weight. They were Stew, Rodney, Mel, Dave and Ron. (If these are their actual names it's a complete accident, I have no memory of their names...fuckin' memory.)

I should say that I was never overweight as a kid, but I was healthy and thought of myself in reasonably good shape, considering all the swimming I had done and the physical nature of the odd jobs I had been able to secure throughout high school. However, the Navy had a completely different idea of "in shape" than I did. I lost about thirty pounds in basic and was downright skinny.

NATTC Millington, TN, was a training base. There was no club, there was a small base exchange, a liquor store and there was really nothing to do, other than drink. The first night there, my new roommates decided that we needed something to drink, so we walked to the exchange and liquor store. We came back with Everclear, eight twenty-four ounce bottles of Mountain Dew, a couple of limes, lemons and a shitload of ice. They cut up the fruit and poured everything into a cooler with a clean trash bag liner lining it. If anybody wanted to go outside, they had to put the stuff (it had a name but I don't remember it) in one of the Mountain Dew bottles since there were regulations prohibiting open containers on the base. I had experienced my share of drinking and normally could hold my own with anybody, but this shit just kicked my ass. I was completely hammered in no time whatsoever. Later, we walked to the mess hall and ate. I have no idea what I ate and then we just walked around the base, the guys showing me everything I needed to know.

When we got back, I was barely able to give the sentry the password to the barracks. He grinned and shook his head. "Fuckin' newbies."

I slept face down on my rack in my dungarees. Remarkably, I didn't have a hangover. I didn't feel great, but I wasn't hung over. I spent the rest of the weekend exploring the base during the day, eating at the mess and drinking with my roommates at night.

I got up with everybody else on Monday at about 0500. At that point in my life, getting up that early was just the norm. I went to mess with them for breakfast and then they went off to their various schools. I wasn't scheduled to be at the personnel office until 0800 so I went back to our room. I had already made my rack, so I grabbed a book and sat on a chair reading, until it was time to go.

I reported to personnel at 0755 and the female E6 barely looked at me while she read my orders. She was the first woman I had seen, up close, in over three months and though she wasn't pretty, she was attractive enough, I suppose. The thing that got me was she was wearing perfume and it smelled of strawberries, which made me think of Joni and my dick got hard. She glanced up at me, standing at attention,

all of me,

and she just smirked. She probably saw this all the time, was not impressed, and just gave me my orders.

I was to report to the galley for kitchen duty. No, I wasn't being punished. The personnel clerk explained to me that this rarely happened, but my recruiter had screwed up and sent me to basic a month early.

My school didn't start for a month and the Navy couldn't allow a newbie to be unassigned for a month, so I was assigned to kitchen duty.

The only sign of sympathy I received from her was a tiny smile. "I know, it sucks, but hey, we all gotta follow orders, right?"

I sighed, "Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am."

I reported to the Chief Petty Officer who was in charge of the galley and handed him my orders. He laughed, "Fuckin' recruiters. Personnel told you that this was rare, right?"

"Yes Sir!" I nodded also, not sure what he expected.

"Yeah, rare!" He snorted. "About half of my staff are always guys that had a 'recruiter screw up'. Really, I think it's planned."

He slapped me on the back. "Welcome to the galley kid, I'm Chief Stanley Kowalski. If there're officers around, call me chief, otherwise call me Stan or Kowalski."

I snapped to attention, "Yes, Sir!"

He chuckled, "Fuckin' newbies. I just told you, Chief, Stan or Kowalski, none of the 'Sir' shit, got it?"

"Ye...uhh, Ok, Chief." I mumbled.

"That's better, kid. Have you worked in the galley before?" The Chief asked.

"Yes, Sir." I answered. (It was drummed into our heads in basic; I couldn't simply turn it off.) "In basic, I cleaned plates, took out the garbage and cleaned tables and the floor. I also fed the Dragon." (The Dragon was the giant dishwashing unit. It was called the Dragon because it belched steam non-stop.)

"So, you've done all the nasty stuff before?" The Chief continued.

"Yes, S..uhh Chief." I answered, again. "I really don't mind, I got used to it."

"Well, Peters, since you've done all the shit work before; we'll see if we can't get you some easier duty. Maybe, we'll even teach you to cook a little." He concluded. "How does that sound? For today though, go see Bobby back at the Dragon and he'll show you what to do, OK?"

"That sounds really good, Sir, uhh, Chief." I said. "Though, I'm happy to do anything that you want."

The Chief had given me respect for the work I had done in my service week at boot camp. It felt like, aside from the 'fuckin' newbie' thing, that I was being treated as an adult, for the first time in my life, that I had something to offer that was valuable. It felt really good.

After a couple of weeks in the galley, I truly understood why they sent guys here for punishment. It was some of the most exhausting work I had ever done in my life. It wasn't difficult, it was just physically demanding. Something always needed to be scrubbed, washed or just moved. You didn't pick up a tub with five plates in it, you picked up a tub with one hundred fifty plates in it. You didn't pick up a ten pound bag of potatoes, you picked up a sack with one hundred pounds of potatoes.

Everything

was like that. At the end of my duty every day for about two weeks, I would go back, take a shower and fall into my bunk. I'd get up the next morning and do the whole thing over again. But, by the end of the third week I had become accustomed to it and was interacting with the other guys in my room a little more.

Then, one morning I walked in and there was a new face in the galley. I came to find out that she wasn't new; she'd just been on leave. I went to my duty station and got to work. I felt someone walk up behind me.

I turned around and there she was. "Hi, I'm Marianne Johnson." She stuck out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Chris Peters." I took her hand and she demonstrated a surprisingly firm handshake.

She was an MS3, Mess Management Specialist Third Class, and a Petty Officer 3

rd

Class. She stood there smiling at me. "Are you permanent, or are you a recruiting gift?"

I smiled, "I guess I'm a recruiting gift. I'm waiting for Aviation Electronic School. I've got about a week to go before it starts."

She grinned at me, a nice smile. "Ok, so I can only abuse you for about a week, huh?"

"Well, that depends on the abuse, I guess." I teased. "We could

always

find time for more after I start school."

"Oooh, someone's full of themselves this morning." She laughed and slugged me on the shoulder before walking away.

I watched her walk away. She was a little chunky with fairly good-sized boobs and a nice firm butt. She wasn't pretty by any means, but she had a nice smile and what seemed to be a fun personality. She was someone who I thought would make a nice friend.

Bobby Douglass, one of the permanent members of the galley staff came up to me as I watched her. "Forget it newbie," he chuckled, "she's fleet and doesn't date guys like

you."

"Whaddya mean, 'guys like you'?" I asked.

"Fuckin' newbies." He laughed. (I actually had begun to think of that term as one word, fuckinnewbie.)

I went back to work and didn't think much of the exchange. Later in the day, she was back in the back of the galley by where I was working.

"Hey Peters," she said.

I didn't look up, I didn't want to cut a finger off. "Yeah?"

"You wanna go to the club tonight?" She asked.

I still didn't look up. "Club? What club? I didn't think there was a club here."

"There is on the Air Station side." She said. "So, you wanna go or what?"

I finished cutting the potatoes and looked up at her. She was smiling and had a little blush on her cheeks.

"Uh, yeah, that would be cool." I said. "But, why me? Like everybody keeps reminding me, I'm just a newbie."

"Yeah, a newbie," she said, "but a newbie with enough balls to flirt a little. I like that."

"Ok," I said. "Do we have to walk over there or what?"

"No, dumbass," she laughed, "I've got a car. What barracks are you in?"

I told her. (I'd tell you, but I don't remember enough of how the barracks were designated to even make something up.)

"Ok," she said, "I'll pick you up about seven."

"Ok." I answered.

The rest of my duty passed without anything special happening. I went back to my room, took a shower and got ready. The other guys were giving me shit because I was getting cleaned up.

Stew said, "What, ya got a hot date?"

"Well," I said, "yeah, I do."

"Whaaaat?" Rodney said. "With who? Mel?"

Mel threw a shoe at him. "Asshole!"

Rodney just laughed. "C'mon man, give. With who?"

"A Petty Officer from the galley." I said.

The room went absolutely silent. Finally, Rodney spoke, "A chick, right?"

I smiled, "Yeah."

"A chick Petty Officer from the galley." Mel said.

"Uh-huh." I was still smiling.

"Not the fat one with the big tits?" Rodney said.

"Hey, she's not fat." I protested, may a little defensively. "She's a little chunky, but I certainly wouldn't call her fat, asshole! Look, she's

maybe

carrying fifteen-twenty pounds of extra weight. She just looks heavy because we're in the Navy, just got out of basic and are in the best shape of our lives. Most of us are skinny, she's not fat!"

"Ok, Ok," Rodney said. "Sorry, you're right, she's not fat, just a little chunky and I guess she's kinda cute. I guess I'm just surprised at you going out with a fleet chick, not a newbie like us. How'd you get her to go out with you?"

I shrugged. "She asked me."

"Oh, bullshit!" Mel exclaimed.

I flexed, "What can I say, I'm a stud."

"Man it's getting' waaaay too deep in here." Rodney groaned.

About then, a car horn honked outside. "My chariot is here guys, see ya."

They all crowded around the window and I saw them when I looked up as I got in.

Marianne saw them, too. "Your fan club?"

I laughed, "I guess."

"Let's give them something to look at." Marianne said. She leaned over and kissed me, I was startled to find her tongue at my lips, but I just went with it. We kissed, deeply, for a few moments and when we broke, we looked up at the guys. They were going apeshit in the window.

She grinned and said, "You want 'em to really freak out?"

"Yeah, what do you have in mind?" I grinned.

She grabbed my hand and pulled it onto her boob. I was stunned as she came in for another kiss. "C'mon, Peters. Let's give 'em something to keep them up

all

night."

She reached down and grabbed my dick through my pants, giving it a good squeeze. She let go as she thrust her tongue deeply into my mouth. Her hand was feeling around my crotch and suddenly she found her target, the tab on my zipper. She yanked it down and fished around in my pants, finding the opening in my shorts and triumphantly dragging my rock hard dick through the fly of my shorts and pants. She sat back and looked at my dick.

"Nice, Peters, very nice!" She grinned.

"Uhhh, if you keep fooling around like that," I said nervously, "we're gonna have a mess. I haven't come since the night before I got on the train for basic. He's feeling very frisky right now."

She laughed; it was a sweet sound. "You're not my first newbie, Peters. Let's take care of this right now."

She slid back on the seat, bent over and the tip of her tongue found the pool of pre-come on the head of my dick. The hot wetness of her tongue almost made me come right then and there. My head had lolled back; I was simply enjoying the heat of her mouth before I realized that we were still in front of the barracks. My head snapped up and saw the guys in the window. They were

actually

cheering. I glanced at the sentry and he looked as if he was deliberately looking a different direction. About that time, Marianne slurped all the way up my cock and it started quivering.

"Uhhh, Marianne?" I groaned.

"Mmmm-hmmm?" She hummed around my dick. That was all it took. I spurted into her mouth and she never flinched. She took all I had stored up and kept sucking. Finally, I collapsed back into the seat.

She sat up, picked up a fast food drink cup and made a show of spitting the mouthful of come into the cup. I looked up at the window again and I think Rodney actually passed out.

"Ok," she said, "normally, I swallow, but never a newbie's first one after basic. I don't know why, but when it's been stored for so long, it tastes like dirty socks. Now, I really need a drink to clean this taste out of my mouth. I'm not gonna kiss you again until my mouth feels right. Ok?"

I just laughed. "Ok."

We pulled away as the sentry had turned around and pointedly looked at his watch. I gave him a little salute in gratitude. I could read his lips through the grin, 'Fuckin' newbies.'

She drove over to the club and we went inside. I had felt like a newbie on the school side, but I cannot begin to describe how I felt on the Air Station side. I was the

only

shaved head newbie in the club. I'm sure it only

felt

like those scenes in western movies when the hero or bad guy walked into the bar and the piano player hit a few bad notes and then stopped and everybody in the place looked at the guy in the door. It was probably just because I stuck out

more

than the proverbial sore thumb. By the time we found a table and sat down, everyone had stopped staring at us.

Marianne was laughing when we sat down. I just looked at her, "What?"

"Well,

that

was awkward." She snorted, "The only thing missing was a waitress dropping a tray of drinks."

"Ok," I said, "so it isn't just me?"

She laughed, "Oh,

hell

no. The whole place came to a grinding halt."

A waitress came over. "Hey, Marianne."

"Hey, Bobbi Jo." Marianne responded.

"Who's your friend?" Bobbi Jo asked.

"This is Chris Peters," Marianne said. "He's in the galley for the next week or so."

"Hi, Chris." Bobbi Jo said.

"Hi, Bobbi Jo." I said and then grinned. "At least you didn't address me as newbie. I thought I was gonna have to get the name on my orders changed."

They both laughed.

"What can I get you?" Bobbi Jo asked.

I looked at Marianne and Bobbi Jo spoke up. "I know what

she

wants, what do

you

want?"

"A whiskey sour." I said.

Bobbi Jo raised an eyebrow but just said, "I'll have 'em here in a minute."

"A whiskey sour?" Marianne asked.

"Hey, it's what I like." I said.

She laughed, "Ok."

Bobbi Jo brought the drinks and then left us alone. Marianne picked up the bottle of Bud and drained about half of it.

"Wow," she said, "that's better. That nasty aftertaste is gone."

I just stared at her, shaking my head.

"What?!?" Marianne asked, grinning.

"I've never been around

anyone

like you before." I said with a smile.

She grinned back, "Is that good or bad?"

"I dunno...neither, I guess." I answered. "I guess I've been sheltered. I've never heard anyone just say what they think before. It's just different."

She laughed. "Man, you

really

are a newbie, Peters."

I sighed, "So I've been told."

She burst out laughing, a very full, gusty sound, and full of enjoyment. I really liked her laugh and it made me laugh along with her.

"Ok, Peters," she said quietly, "here's the deal. I like to fuck. (I almost laughed again; she was illustrating my point about her outspoken nature.) I like to fuck, a lot. I'm not looking for romance, I'm not looking for any kind of boyfriend, I'm looking for a good stiff dick. Sometimes I'll just be seeing you, but sometimes I'll find another dick that I'll want to try. Are you up for that?"

It was funny, but just hearing her talk like that made my dick hard. I can't explain it, it just did.

I deliberately looked down at my lap before looking back up at her and answering. "As a matter of fact, I am."

She caught the entire meaning of my statement and started laughing again. "Well, alrighty then." She looked up and waved at Bobbi Jo. "Bobbi Jo, we're leaving." Each of us grabbed our drinks and finished them.

I started to grab my wallet and she waved me off. "No, I've got this. We'll see if you need to pay, and what you need to pay, in a little while."

She paid and we left. She drove to her place and we went in. She told me she had a couple of roommates and sometimes they were there, sometimes, they weren't. The other thing she told me was that she kind of liked an audience and sometimes her roommates would watch. They never joined in, but they might get themselves off as they watched. So, I might be seeing more naked bodies than just hers.

She walked straight to her room and started stripping off her clothes. She was right; there was no romance, here. I watched as she quickly revealed her naked body, off came the shirt and pants, then the bra and finally the simple white cotton panties. Naked, she was more curvy than chubby. Her dungarees did absolutely nothing to enhance her body, instead the clothing served to minimize her natural softness and feminine beauty. Not to say her face was beautiful, it was not. Her face tended toward plain and unremarkable. Nevertheless, her body was very attractive in a classic, soft, almost Rubenesque manner. Her boobs were large and firm with dark, long nipples. Her butt was round, firm and smooth. She turned to face me and my eyes were drawn to her full dark bush, it was wild and very dense.