They were sailing in the Gulf of Aqaba with the fleet, supporting the super carrier George H. W. Bush. They were aboard an LHD amphib with a contingent of over one thousand fleet sailors and about 1,600 Marines. Gunny Atwater was responsible for a rifle company of Marines, with usually about 80 to 100 Marines under her supervision. She had been aboard for six months now and was starting to feel as horny as she had ever been.
She had been developing relationships with other Gunnery Sergeants on board ship, staying in her own rank for reasons of no fraternization. She was a stickler for regs. Always had been. It was one reason she had made rank so quickly, and also why she had so few good friends. Others were a little more lax and were slightly jealous of her.
Now, for the first time, she was looking outside the Corps. She had seen a Chief Petty Officer on deck one day who had caught her eye. He was a Master-at-Arms, and was really just her type. He was over six foot tall, had huge, hairy forearms showing from his sleeves, and his large feet indicated something else might be large, too. She had just decided to introduce herself to him when all hell broke loose.
The sound of small arms fire could be heard over the side of the ship. She was up on the landing deck, and immediately moved to her duty station. She was over-seeing a platoon of Marines who were manning a .50 caliber machine gun on the starboard side of the ship. As she moved into position next to the platoon sergeant who was really in charge of these Marines she saw what appeared to be smoke plumes coming up and past her troops. This got her blood moving. She looked over the side and saw several small boats apparently powered by out-board motors zooming past her position and shooting small arms fire up into the side of the ship.
There was a corporal on the .50 cal firing at the boats and trying to take out what were most likely pirates. They had become more and more aggressive over the past few weeks. They hadn't yet learned what they were fighting against. It was not her job to take over for her men, but the staff sergeant motioned her over to the gun and put his hand on the corporal's shoulder. He looked up, saw the Gunny and moved aside. Gunny Atwater got the thrill of using the .50 cal one more time.
As she fired she loved the feeling she always got when in charge of fighting the enemy. And also, the sick feeling in the pit of the stomach when she saw a man getting blown off one of the boats. The feelings were always mixed. A great feeling of patriotism while fighting her country's enemies and the sorrow that this had to go on. She was a strong Gunny, but she never forgot she was fighting living, breathing, human beings.
The battle ended as it always did out here in the gulf. The pirates fled, leaving their dead in the water to sink and feed the sharks. The Marines began policing their position, picking up their brass, and, when it had cooled down, cleaning their weapon. Gunny Atwater moved to begin working on her reports due after any action. Her platoon sergeant did the same. Reports helped them all to become better Marines after any action.
As she made her way to her office space below decks she happened to see the Chief she had been eyeing earlier. He was placing his men back to work after the small battle had ended. They still had deck duties to accomplish. She looked him up and down, then noticed he was doing the same to her. Unconsciously, she blushed. Her face almost matched her hair, hidden under her camo cap. Then, she realized how she was staring and moved quickly away.
Gunny Atwater was lucky. She was very sensual. That came in handy in the Corps. It greatly increased her chances for outstanding sex. Sex with anyone could be enjoyable, but sex with service people was fucking fantastic. And she was not shy about making her needs known to the ones who made her pussy tingle. But, again, she stayed within her own pay-grade. That set certain limits, and she had made her way through several other Gunneys and had found few who made her heart really turn over. Sex was sex, but she wanted the best.