In the Navy…

… sang the Village People at the little café opposite the Navy base while on the other side of the fence we stood straight and sang military songs at the crack of dawn, watching the French flag flapping in the morning breeze, supposedly learning to become real men by serving our country for a year.
Monday morning was hair inspection, Lieutenant Imbert inspected how neatly trimmed our hair was. His thick fingers ran across the back of our necks, smoothly but firmly, occasionally pulling the extra pieces of hair that would stick out of our ears. Lieutenant Imbert looked smart in his perfectly ironed white uniform, his well defined breast-muscles would show through his extra tight jacket and the look in his eyes made even the straightest ones of us melt and turn into the biggest Falcon video fans. The mere touch of his fingers on our neck made all of our young sailors’ juices flow in a Niagara-like waterfall of body fluids.
I was thinking I should write a post about my time in the Navy, but I don’t know if you want to read more. Can’t decide. hm… what do you think… ?

To be continued

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5 Responses

  1. HOTNESS!

    I want more Micke!

    MORE!

  2. Don’t stop! More!

  3. Ok, I’ll go along with the boys and encourage you (I like the sound of Lieutenant Imbert) but just remember I’ve read “Querelle” and seen “Beau Travail” – all plagiarism will be punished!

  4. As usual Rhino is skepical of my stories. But reading the rest of the story, see how unglamorous and unsexy it is, should make you believe me for once… you naughty ice queen!

  5. Not at all, hon, no scepticism on my part. Just like to keep you on your toes :))

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