The Goodwill Gesture

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The Goodwill Gesture Page 5

by McKay, KC


  "I'd ignore it, ma'am. Completely and utterly just forget it. I'd scrub it from my mind. I'd accept it as the misunderstanding that it was and move on. I wouldn't give it another thought." I looked at her with sincerity.

  "Did you have a rough childhood, Chambers?" Her question didn't carry a sympathetic tone. She must have been trying to gauge if I was a nut or not.

  She offered me a lifeline. I often used fictitious facts about my family to get me out of many a jam in the past, and if ever there was a calling for a cock and bull story, this was it. I lowered my head. "Yes, ma'am. My mother was a prostitute and my father was a heroin user. Just recreational, of course, but…" Her silence was uncomfortable. I looked up.

  Her gaze was fixed on me. Unblinking, unsmiling — totally expressionless. She wasn't buying it. I didn't want to lie to her anyway. Master Chief didn't seem to like me much and she didn't seem to like or trust Master Chief. Maybe she could be an ally.

  "I was just kidding, ma'am. Except for my dad being a womanizer, and my mom dying of cancer two years ago, it was all pretty normal."

  "You know, that hurt, Chambers." She rapped the butt of a pen on her desk.

  I shifted my stance. "I'm sorry I lied, ma'am. It was just a little joke."

  "No, it wasn't a joke. You don't know anything about me or my background. How do you know my mom wasn't a prostitute or that my dad didn't take an overdose?" She held a serious look.

  I swallowed hard. I felt bad. "I'm really sorry, ma'am. Was that… I mean…"

  She waved her hand around. "I don't want to talk about it, and I want you to think long and hard next time before you try to snow me. I don't like it."

  "No, ma'am." Wow. I'd been yelled at a lot by officers in the past, but no one had ever made me feel as bad as she just did. And she didn't even raise her voice.

  "Now, besides… itchy things… what else did you want?"

  "Oh, right." I picked up the package of paperwork and laid it on her desk. "Just need a signature to start work on the Kirby, ma'am."

  She looked over the paperwork and signed it. "By the way, I blasted Clark yesterday." Her voice was calm. "Let me know if he steps out of bounds, will you? He walks a mighty fine line, but for some reason, Master Chief and the PMA seem to think he can do no wrong. I happen to think differently. Keep me posted."

  "Yes, ma'am." I went to leave, then remembered why I went to town the day before. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a gift-wrapped box about the size of my wallet. I handed it to her. "Just a little something. Happy birthday, ma'am."

  "What?" Her eyes went large as she looked at the green paper wrapped up with a gold ribbon. "What's this? I mean, why? I mean, what?"

  "It's not much, but since you had to spend your birthday with me, I thought I should get you something." I offered a limp shrug.

  She raised her eyebrows and pointed to the box.

  I nodded.

  She unwrapped the paper and lifted the lid. Her eyes blinked rapidly and a crimson glow covered her cheeks. Her grin spread until it reached both ears. "Chambers. You shouldn't have. It's beautiful." She reached into the box and pulled out the lobster brooch I bought her. It was red enamel, glitzed up with rhinestone eyes and a few sparklies around the claws and tail. She looked at it admiringly.

  "May you always remember the tailpiece, and the piece of tail that never was."

  She stood up. Her eyes were moist. "Thank you. Zac."

  Oh my God. She called me by first name. Why'd she do that? I didn't even know her first name. I only ever thought of her as Miss Nice Tits, or Hot Ass. "You're welcome, umm…"

  She tapped her silver bar. "Lieutenant Novak."

  "Yes, ma'am." I leaned over, picked up the paperwork off her desk and left.

  Chapter 8

  I had the weekend off and I wanted to party. It was my twenty-fourth birthday and I didn't want to spend it working like Lt. Novak did. Annabelle's was the classy hotel in town, so I figured I'd spend a night there. Of course, the plan was to pick up a Scottish lass in town, take her back to the hotel for the night, and fill her full of goodwill. My goodwill.

  I checked into Annabelle's and got a room with a jacuzzi tub. It cost extra, but I deserved a hot soak with bubbles blowing up my hard to reach areas.

  After I freshened up and had something to eat, I hit a few bars getting primed. Shortly after ten o'clock I walked past the entrance to The Buccaneer. The door was open and it looked a lively place, so I went in. Walking into the olde worlde establishment, I immediately cracked my head on an oak beam from the low ceiling. I examined the midget-friendly beam and took note of a sign nailed to it that read "Duck or Grouse." I may have found it amusing if I'd seen it before it shivered my timbers.

  I went to the bar, got myself a pint of beer and scoured the room, looking for a seat.

  "Hey, Chambers, over here."

  Charlotte Kemp waved her arm in the air. She sat next to the fire, which looked inviting. My eyes focused on her as I walked over. Once there, I looked to the other side of the table and there sat Knothead. I inwardly chuckled, wondering if a low beam was how he got that lump on his head.

  "I don't want to interrupt or anything," I remarked out of politeness.

  Charlotte slid over and patted the seat next to her. "Don't be silly, I invited you." She cast a sideways glance toward Knothead. She looked back at me. "Pleeease." Her eyes begged me to sit. She held her hand toward Knothead. "You remember Howard."

  I dipped my head in his direction. "Petty Officer Howard."

  "I know I'm senior to you, but you don't have to be so formal off the ship. Howard will do."

  "Oh, but not on a first name basis, huh?" I let out a nervous chuckle. He seemed to like his authority, but also wanted me to think he was cool. Maybe that was for Charlotte's benefit.

  "Howard is my first name. Howard Howard." He sat stone-faced.

  Charlotte covered her mouth, but her dimples stayed visible.

  "Seriously?" I asked, trying to regain my composure. "Did your dad stutter or something?"

  Howard leaned back. "You know, there's a funny story about that—"

  Charlotte frantically flapped her hand. "Come on, Howie. Get a round of drinks in."

  I moved to stand up. "I'll get these. I owe—"

  Charlotte pulled me back into my seat. She dipped her head toward Knotty. "Howieee…?" she cooed.

  He smiled and stood up. "Sure." He pointed to my glass. "Same again?"

  I took a drink, nearly downing the entire contents, and let out a hardy, "Ahh…" I gave my mouth a quick swipe with the back of my hand. "Yeah. McEwan's, thanks."

  Howard gave Charlotte a big smile and leaned toward her. "And I know what you want." He winked and walked off.

  Charlotte stared at his back with disdain. "What a perv, but at least he's good for a drink. And just so you know, anytime he starts with, 'there's a funny story about that…' take fuck—iiing cover." She rolled her eyes. "Geez." She turned her attention to me and her hand landed on my knee.

  I looked into her deep green eyes. They were focused on me and a big smile graced her face. I tried to fight the effects of the alcohol and find something ugly about her. It looked as if her nose had been broken at some stage, but it certainly didn't give her an ugly factor. Nothing wrong with her face, so my eyes traveled downward. As I got to her modestly cut top, barely revealing any cleavage, she squeezed her arms together and suddenly the tops of her boobs peaked and peeked. No, Charlotte wasn't ugly anywhere, especially there. I reminded myself she was a ship chick and best left alone.

  Since Charlotte and I were both enlisted personnel, we could have sex without breaking any rules. Unlike if I tried to dork Lt. Novak. But besides the work implications, I was in a country full of foreigners. Why drive a Chevy when I could take a British Jaguar for a spin? But I'd at least get a free drink out of Knotty before moving on.

  Charlotte moved closer and her hand went on the rise, nearing my crotch and giving me a knot of my own to wo
rry about. When her hand clutched my hardening rod, I jumped. She whispered seductively, "I've been thinking about that sixty-nine I gave you and hoped you'd give me some of the same."

  I looked up, past the ceiling and into God's heaven, asking why He was doing this to me. "I'd love to Charlotte, but I wouldn't want to compromise your position as a quality assurance inspector or anything." I couldn't believe I was turning down a hot, bubble-butted nympho. But as I had been warned before arriving in Scotland, I could see problems stuffing a chick from the ship, especially one who would have to inspect my work professionally. I mean, what if I came too soon or something? All she had to do was reject my work out of spite and the PMA would have grounds to castrate me. I needed to be strong out of patriotic duty. I really should have been on the other side of the world sticking it to Filipino women instead of shunning lust-laden Navy chicks.

  She ignored my logic. "Is it true that Midwest guys are hung like corn cobs?" She turned sideways, arching her back so her breasts rubbed against me. My mass grew in the confines of her hand as she squeezed and massaged me. "Or do you prefer to be milked?" She flicked her tongue against her lips.

  I closed my eyes and thought of Roseanne Barr hoping I'd go limp, shrivel up, and crawl inside me. Charlotte's firm stroking made that an impossibility. I grabbed her hand and moved it to her own leg. "I thought you were with Howard. You know he likes you, right? It's pretty obvious."

  She giggled. "What am I supposed to do if he says 'Sit on my face?' Ride his knot?"

  I chuckled myself.

  She broke out of my grip and returned her hand to my crotch. "Come on, Chambers." She leaned in and her lips brushed against my ear as she whispered, her tongue occasionally flicking my lobe. "I'm up for it. Let's get a room."

  My resolve to stay away from ship chicks weakened. I lit a cigarette. "But it would create a conflict of interest."

  She snuggled in tighter and rubbed harder. "My only interest at the moment is a cock-flicting one."

  My erection fought the restraint of my jeans.

  "Here we go." Howard Howard set the tray of drinks down. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

  I pushed Charlotte off and smoothed the sleeves of my sweater. "No, not at all. So tell me how you got into QA, Howard."

  Charlotte folded her arms and stuck her bottom lip out.

  No matter how much Knothead continued to bore me with his scholastic and naval achievements, my dick just would not lose its rigidity. Charlotte really did a job on me and I came to the conclusion that she would be the only one who could defuse the situation. Damn her.

  If I had to have sex with a woman off the ship why couldn't it be Lt. Novak throwing herself at me? Well, I reasoned, because Novak was an officer and a lady.

  What the hell was wrong with me? A consenting adult nymphomaniac was gagging for it and I was rejecting her advances when I had a room with a jacuzzi just a few doors away.

  Once Knothead finished his lecture on the importance of the Navy in the war of 1812, he looked at his watch. "Come on, Charlotte, we better get back to the ship." He looked at me. "You coming, Chambers?"

  Nearly. "Naw, I'm staying in town tonight. I'll see you back onboard Monday." I flipped my ash into the ashtray.

  Knothead stood up. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He let out a stupid laugh. "Ready, Kemp?"

  "No, I'm going to stay with…" She looked at me. "Zac, isn't it?"

  I nodded.

  "…with Zac for a while. Teach him some of the Scottish customs. I'll catch you Monday, Howard."

  Knothead gave me a death stare.

  Holy crap. That was why I didn't want to get involved with women from the ship. Howard Howard wanted to get in her pants, and his look confirmed it. I was an obstacle. Before I could say, 'You can have her, Knotty,' he'd spun around and stormed out.

  Charlotte rested her head on my shoulder. "I know a place down the road called Doug's Dugout. It's only twenty quid for a room."

  I drew a deep breath. I pinched my shaft - it was still pretty solid, so there wasn't much point in fighting it. "Hey, I got a room at Annabelle's. Feel like a jacuzzi?"

  She raised her head, held my face in her hand and delivered a forceful kiss. "Zac, you just made Rear Admiral. Let's go."

  ***

  The hinges groaned as I opened the door to the Antelope Suite. It wasn't really a suite, but it was large and comfortable, even if the furniture did look like it came out of a Salvation Army Thrift Store.

  Charlotte surveyed the room as I went to the dresser and pulled out a bottle of Wild Turkey. I poured our drinks into half-sized tumblers. The glasses were scarred by cloudiness, and before I knew it, I had filled mine to the brim. Well, that was my excuse, anyway.

  "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, Charlotte. I'll get the jacuzzi ready." I left her and went to the bathroom full of anticipation of what she looked like naked with that nice, round bubble butt. Rear Admiral, huh? Wow! A shudder went through me and I tried to subdue my excitement — but not that much.

  I ran the water. Hot. Really hot. Steam rose and filled the bathroom until I could barely see the avocado green jacuzzi. I took a sip of the whiskey, but got lost in a fantasy of sucking Charlotte's breasts and accidentally gulped half of it. I had to fight a gag as the liquid had a slow burn all the way down through my stomach until it hit my feet.

  I stripped off and stuck a toe in the tub. The water was scalding hot, just how I liked it. After a few more sips, I set my glass on the rim of the tub and turned on the jets. The motor hummed as bubbles gurgled and splashed. I slowly lowered myself into the water. Once I was submerged up to my shoulders, I called Charlotte.

  She sauntered in, a half full glass in one hand, clutching the bottle of Wild Turkey by the neck in the other hand, and totally butt naked.

  I admired her round breasts, with erect nipples pointing straight out. What the hell had she been doing out there? I mentally shrugged. I didn't really care. She looked ready to make the night memorable. She put the whiskey on the back edge of the tub, then raised her leg to get in the water, offering me a clear shot of her glistening spread.

  "Wait. Turn around." My life wouldn't be complete until I had an uninterrupted view of her naked ass.

  She smiled and obliged. She shifted her hips from side to side in slow cadence. "Like what you see, Admiral?"

  "Rear Admiral," I corrected her, "and yes. Very much. Climb aboard."

  It took Charlotte a few minutes to get into the water amidst claims it was too hot, but that gave me ample time to admire and ogle her fine figure.

  We tickled and giggled in the water for half an hour or more, sucking Wild Turkey and each other. I got light-headed from the water being too hot. Or maybe it was the multiple gulps of whiskey. We eventually agreed to get out and finish the fun on the queen-sized bed.

  I lay on my back as Charlotte straddled my legs and fondled my manhood. Her pert boobs held their shape perfectly and defied gravity. She was a sight to behold.

  "Are you enjoying this?" she purred.

  "Charlotte, you are one hot babe. You look gorgeous."

  "Then how come you're not hard? Am I doing something wrong?" She looked at my lower region, then back at me.

  I looked at my dick, then back at her. Uh-oh. A second ago it had started to climb, but then she went and made me self-conscious about it. Still, she was hot and her hands felt good. I couldn't wait to get into her tightness. "No, nothing's wrong. I'm just recovering from the jacuzzi. It kind of zapped me. I'll be okay in a minute."

  "Good, 'cause I need you full steam ahead, not dropping anchor." She smiled.

  "Just keep doing what you're doing, sweetheart, and we'll be sailing away in no time."

  I closed my eyes and concentrated on how good she felt. Nothing. I opened my eyes and admired her tits. Nothing. Okay, I fantasized about Farrah Fawcett. She always got it up for me. Nothing. Lt. Novak? A twinge, but again, nothing.

  Charlotte lowered her head and took me in her mouth.
Ah, warm and wet, that should do it. Nothing.

  Oh shit. Someone put weed killer in the Wild Turkey.

  She raised herself and knelt on the bed. "Okay, Zac, come on. This isn't funny." She thrust her hands on her hips.

  "I know, Charlotte. It's just the whiskey… and the water. I'll be okay in a minute."

  "This is the first time I've ever given a blowjob to a limp dick. How do you think that makes me feel?" Her eyes narrowed.

  "Look, we can still… umm… sixty-nine." I clicked my fingers. "Yeah, that's it. Let's sixty-nine like you suggested."

  "Right. So you tongue me, and if you still can't get it up how the hell do you think I'm going to feel then? Damn you to hell, Zac Chambers."

  "No, it's not like that, Charlotte." I pulled myself up and sat looking her in the eyes. "Really. I like you. I don't know what's going on. This has never happened to me before."

  "Well, you picked the wrong time for it to happen. I got my lips wrapped around your… todger…, and you can't get it up. Holy mother of crap." She scooted off the bed and walked over to where her clothes were. "I've never been so humiliated in all my life." She slid her panties on and hooked her bra up.

  "Come on, Charlotte. Give me another chance."

  "No way, buster." She tugged her jeans up over her round rump then pulled her top on.

  I had thought my worst sexual experience was when we arrived in the Philippines after three weeks at sea. I was so horny I came when the chick slipped the condom on me. At least she gave me another chance and I performed. But Charlotte was pretty pissed. A pain gnawed at my gut. Not only might I never see that ass naked again, but what if she broadcast my inability to perform?

  She stomped over to the door, grabbed the handle and pulled it open. "I should have fucked fucking Knothead!"

  SLAM!

  Crap!

  Not wanting to get involved with women on the ship was one thing, but not being able to get it up was quite another. I sat naked at the table in the middle of the room and poured myself a glass of Wild Turkey. It didn't matter now if I couldn't get it up or not - the damage had been done, so I sucked the whiskey down in one gulp and poured another one. I stared at my limpness and prayed Charlotte wouldn't make me a laughingstock. Mixing whiskey and water was a bunch of hogwash in my newly formed opinion. From now on, unlike Charlotte, I would have mine straight up.

 

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