Black Alert

BLACK ALERT (Late 60s)

I’m at a loss to find a category for this. There are two LWs, so complain if you must.

WARNING:

Nothing to do with black people. If coercion and cheating wives are not to your taste, delete now. Comments are welcome on story construction and errors. But it is fiction, please don’t complain about the content — it happened the way I wrote it. Except it probably didn’t.

Jeremy, known as Jem, and Dominic, more commonly Dom, arrived at the guardhouse at the same moment.

“Glad you’re in early boys, had your breakfast?”

“Yes sarge.” they replied in unison.

“Good. We’ve just had a Black Alert. Only this last couple of minutes, you lucky lads!”

“I don’t believe it!” exclaimed Dom. “I only get this duty twice a year, and we had an alert on the last one!”

As usual, he was ignored.

“Black – that’s the lowest one, right?” asked Jem.

“It is.” replied Sergeant Coates.

“I didn’t hear any sirens.”

“No, you don’t get them at this level. You should know that. All you will get is three blasts, three times; that means All Clear. But if you hear a continuous wailing, it means we’re up a level and ready to be attacked.”

“Exercise? Or the real thing?” asked Dom.

“We don’t know yet, but it makes no difference. But it is Sunday, good day for an alert.”

“Oh no, not patrols! There’s only two of us.”

“There’s only two of you at the moment, but in an hour this guardhouse will be buzzing.”

A good looking girl walked in. One of the few who looked attractive in the rather dull RAF uniform.

“Hi Maisie.” said Jem. “Another happy volunteer?”

“Hi. Yeah, I just heard we’ve got a Black Alert.” she announced. “I was supposed to be on standby, but called in for special duties with you guys.”

“You were quick off the mark, SACW Milligan.” said the sergeant.

“I’m a cook in the airmen’s mess, sarge. We were informed straight away and are changing the catering shifts as we speak. You know, in case this goes on all night. Breakfast is extended by an hour, if anyone’s interested.”

“Right.” confirmed Sergeant Coates. “Well, we lucky four have caught a guard duty on a day when there’ll be plenty to do. Come over here, all of you.”

They gathered around the wall where a large map of the base was hung. Like most RAF camps, it was long, and spread out over a big area.

“We’re a long rectangle. The public road, across the top, runs east/west, parallel to the runway. The main camp spreads out underneath and ends at the bottom road here.”

He indicated it on the map, though it was obvious.

“The two shorter roads on the sides form the shape of the main camp. Here, on the east, are the other ranks’ married quarters. That road will be blocked both ends with barriers and manned by the RAF Regiment. So nobody will be getting into, or out of, the camp from there.”

“Typical.” moaned Dom. “We workers get locked in.”

“Hah! You’re not even married!” said Maisie.

“On this side,” Coates tapped the map again, “the officers’ married quarters are on the far side of the road, and it has to stay open. Legally we’re obliged to provide access to the farmer who owns those fields on the north end. If it was a genuine terrorist incident, we’d close it. Which leads me to believe it isn’t.”

A sigh of relief.

“With all that scree and brambles on the north perimeter, it’s nearly impossible to get onto the runway. So the RAF Police will have an easy time patrolling there, moving on any rubberneckers. They’ll block the south road at both ends. Service personnel will be let through, but civilians will have to be checked. Meanwhile, we don’t have to guard the roads.”

“Great! So no patrols, Sarge?”

He smiled indulgently.

“We will be getting some more ‘volunteers’ shortly and they will be going door to door, calling in key personnel from both sets of married quarters. Meanwhile I’ve been instructed to carry out an immediate check, here.”

He indicated an area on the west side, below the runway, separated from the officers’ quarters by a screen of trees.

“As I said, this link road isn’t used much, except for the farmer and officers, who use it as a rat run. We are setting up checkpoints on each end.”

He pointed to a circle, recently drawn on the map.

“But just here… there’s a break in the fence, giving access to that end of the camp. There’s a dip in the ground there, offering cover. Jones and Marriot — you just volunteered to check it. We only need to do it once. After that road is blocked, the only people who can get to it, are officers. We’re supposed to trust them.”

“That’s still a long way off. Do we get bikes?”

“No, it’s all grass. The walk will do you good.”

“Why us two? Maisie’s not going because she’s a girl?”

“Don’t be stupid Marriot; you two are mates aren’t you? I need SACW Milligan. Any infringements and the miscreants will come here, where we only have two cells. If females are brought in, I need her, in case they have to be searched. Much as you’d like to do it. I’m sure!”

“Lucky cow!” said Dom, cheerfully. “Want to swap Maisie? You have a nice stroll in the sunshine, while I get my hand up a few skirts?”

“Another remark I’ll pretend I didn’t hear.” interrupted the sergeant. “Now look lively, your weapons are arriving.”

A corporal from the Armoury entered, and two rifles with ammo clips were signed for.

Soon, Jem and Dom were on their way to the fence, rifles slung over their shoulders.

“I reckon old Coatsie kept Maisie in the guardhouse to give her one.” said Dom. “I certainly would.”

“I doubt it mate. Why would she fuck an ugly old bugger like him? You see affairs going on everywhere. Soon it’ll be like Piccadilly Circus in that guardhouse. We’re well out of it if you ask me.”

“She would fuck an ugly old bugger like him because he’s a sergeant, and she’s a lowly SACW. Coates is divorced and probably not getting enough.”

“Yeah, yeah. NCOs coerce the lower ranks. And officers’ wives fuck their husbands’ bosses get them promoted!”

“It’s true, they do!” countered Dom.

“You’re always thinking about sex.” said Jem.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” he sounded aggrieved. “Everyone thinks about sex. I do fancy getting into Maisie’s knickers. But I doubt she’d put out for an SAC.”

“You only fancy her because she’s got that special something which presses your buttons.”

“What’s that then?”

“A pulse!”

“Bastard!”

“Well I reckon she’s staying there for the reasons he said. Though they wouldn’t be the first to fuck in those cells.”

“How do you know?”

“I had Shirley in there once.” replied Jem.

“What Big Shirl from Photo Flight? She’s scary!”

“Yeah her. Last month, some married bloke paid me to do his night guard duty. I was in on a Saturday and there was some official function over in the Officers’ Mess. Maisie was helping out with the catering.”

“All right for some.”

“Whatever. So anyway, Maisie kindly drops by on her way home, and brings me two steak sandwiches.”

“And you fucked her in the cells?” asked Dom.

“Oh, give it a rest, I told you it was Shirley. Maisie’s just a mate. Anyway, as she was leaving, the police brought Big Shirley in for fighting in the NAAFI bar. They said they wouldn’t charge her, if she was kept locked up all night.”

“Decent of them.”

“Well they were a bit embarrassed. It was one of their corporals she’d beaten up.”

* * *

“What’s in those sarnies?”

“Steak. The good stuff, from the officers’ mess.”

“Give us one then.”

“You wouldn’t like it, too much mustard.”

“Come on Mr Jailer. Jem isn’t it? I’m starving now I’m sobering up. Don’t be mean.”

“No way. It’s after midnight and I’m starving too.”

“How about if I let you fuck me then? I haven’t had a bloke in months.”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“No, I’m serious!”

He looked at her. She was in civvies and got off the narrow bed and pulled her sweater and bra off.

“Like them?”

Her tits were enormous. In fact, Jem had seen other girls, whose entire breasts were smaller than Shirley’s nipples. Yet nothing sagged. They stuck out like solid melons.

“It gets better!” she added, and pulled her jeans and knickers down in one, oddly graceful, movement.

Jem’s jaw dropped and his dick twitched, straining against his uniform trousers. Despite her strong round thighs, her belly was not fat at all. Just thick and hard. And Shirley had the smallest, prettiest pussy he’d ever seen. She sat and demonstrated how flexible she was for a big girl, doing the splits on the edge of the bed. She was well-muscled rather than fat. She smiled and his eyes widened at the sight of her tiny slit. And complete lack of pubic hair.

“Pretty isn’t she, my baby Shirl? I don’t shave her you know, I’ve never grown any down there. Surely she’s is a good trade for one steak sandwich?”

‘Baby Shirl?’ he thought.

“OK. You’ve got a deal Shirley. But before I unlock the cell, I’ve always had this fantasy about being sucked off through the prison bars.”

“OK then. Get your trousers off!”

It was reasonable to expect no interruptions this time of night, but Jem locked the outer door anyway. And he only lowered his trousers and pants, removing them completely seemed unwise. If anyone came, he didn’t fancy being caught bollock naked. He leaned into the bars and poked his dick through. Shirley put her massive bra on the floor, knelt on the cups, and went to work.

“Oooh, it’s not very clean!” she complained.

“Sorry, I haven’t showered since first thing this morning. Been busy all day.”

“Never mind, I’ve tasted worse!”

He’d had his fair share of blowjobs over the years, and Shirley was very good. She made a point of keeping her teeth clear. Perhaps big girls tried harder. She reached through the bars and grabbed his buttocks, pulling him all the way down her throat. Her nipples rubbed on the cold cell bars and grew another half inch. After a while she took his dick out and gave it a hard squeeze.

“Enough, my bloody knees are killing me! Come in here and say hello to Baby Shirl!”

He unlocked. Her breasts looked strangely erotic with stripes down them from the rusty bars. Shirley did the splits again on the edge of the bed.

“Lick her first!” ordered Shirley. “She likes that.”

Jem knew blokes who referred to their dicks as ‘John Thomas’ or ‘The Old Kidney Wiper’ but had never come across a girl who referred to her pussy by name. It was a little disturbing.

He got in front of her, using her bra again to kneel on, and introduced himself to Baby Shirl. She seemed pleased to meet him. He buried his tongue in as far as it would go. Shirley was indeed naturally bald down here. He’d done this with girls who had shaved, especially in the summer, and they tended to get a bit stubbly.

But this was the best ever, smooth and soft. And she tasted surprisingly sweet. He parted her vulva, slipped his thumb in, and kissed her clitoris. Then sucked it.

“God, that feels good!” she moaned, and clamped his head with her big thighs.

Jem was aware she was getting wetter. She laid back and twisted her own nipples vigorously. A few minutes later she climaxed quietly. Not exactly squirting but certainly oozing. Jem sucked it all up and swallowed. The consistency was like honey. And the taste was, well, like a woman. As her legs relaxed, his thumb transferred some of the liquid down to her anus. But before he could insert it, she clamped her legs shut.

“Not my bum! Not my bum!” she shouted.

Her thighs were incredibly strong. His ears were aching and he could hardly hear her. He got the message though, Shirley’s bottom was a no-go area. At last she released him.

“Not my bum” she repeated. “I don’t like it. Sorry!”

“No problem.” said Jem, and she opened her legs again.

That eventful night duty had one more surprise for him. It was obvious by now that Shirley was powerful and supple, rather than merely fat. But her vagina was a revelation. As he entered her, it gripped him like someone pulling on a tug-of-war rope. He almost came on the first stroke.

“Tight isn’t she? Or so I’ve been told anyway.”

She was indeed tight. And despite the pounding Jem gave her, Baby Shirl didn’t get any looser. Gazing down at her, he half expected running sweat and rolls of wobbling blubber. But she was not only tight, but firm everywhere. Her skin was like a teenager’s. And here, deep inside her, it was hot, as well as wet. Jem had never had sex with a really young girl, but imagined this was what it felt like.

He thrust in and out for several minutes and grasped her huge nipples. She quickly came again with a little squeal. Encouraged, he sped up and she laced her fingers behind his neck, and pulled him down to her open mouth. She sucked his tongue into her throat and her cunt sucked in his dick. On the one hand he wanted it to last longer, but somebody might interrupt them. He exploded into her.

It was over. Shirley wiped herself with some tissues and pulled her knickers and jeans back up. Jem locked her back in and returned with a sandwich.

“Tell me. What would you have done if I hadn’t given you the sarnie?”

“Beaten the shit out of you. Tomorrow probably.”

“Fair enough! Would you do one more thing for me?”

“What?”

“Leave your sweater off and bra off for a bit.”

* * *

“I don’t believe a word of it!” sneered Dom.

“That’s typical of you though isn’t it?” retorted Jem. “You’re happy to believe the fiction. Coates is fucking Maisie; officers’ wives are blowing the station commander. But when confronted with the truth, you go all sceptical.”

Dom thought about this.

“You really fucked Big Shirley?”

“Yes, I really did. Next time you see her, take a good long look at those tits. I’m telling you, they don’t move. She’s as hard as a statue. Think about it, they wouldn’t pick her for the hockey team if she wasn’t fit.”

“You lucky bastard. Is she really that tight?”

“Like a vice!”

Dom considered this in silence.

“Anyway, it’s true. Officers’ wives fuck anyone their husbands tell them to. Well known fact.”

The short grass got longer as they approached the fence.

“Must say this would be a great location for a terrorist attack. The ground drops into a natural depression in a moment. It’s invisible from the camp, and the road.”

“Yeah, if someone could get an anti-aircraft launcher down there, they’d only be spotted from the air.”

They got to the top of the rise and looked into the dip. Unbelievably, there was someone down there. Without discussion, ammo cassettes were clipped on, and they dropped to the ground. Jem wished they’d brought binoculars. Somebody was on the grass, face down.

“Who the fuck can that be?” asked Dom.

“Looks like a bloke sunbathing. Not a terrorist, he’s facing the wrong way.”

“You’re damn right not a terrorist. He’s naked and got someone under him. Hope it’s a woman!”

They crept closer and made out a tartan blanket on the ground, a man’s arse was pounding up and down on it. Under him, someone’s legs were waving in the air.

“I think it must be a woman. Blokes don’t do it face to face, do they?”

“I don’t think so. Can’t see who they are from this distance. Let’s get closer.”

They crawled down the slope and things became clearer.

“I do believe that’s Squadron Leader Dawkins.”

“Recognise his arse?”

“I recognise his bald spot. And it’s definitely a woman he’s fucking. She’s wrapped her legs round his waist. Dirty old bugger, we could make use of this.”

“But he might just be shagging his wife!”

“Not likely though is it? Why would he and his missus leave the comfort of their nice married quarters to fuck in public? That dip in the ground is a secret place.”

“Good point.” agreed Dom.

“This is what we do. Walk down there and get as close as we can. Then you follow my lead. Just, grip the rifle, look threatening and let me play it by ear.”

They walked down the slope. The rutting couple were too engrossed to notice their approach. They were almost standing on the man’s feet, before the woman spotted them over his shoulder. Her eyes widened.

“Jesus Christ!” she shouted.

“Yes, I’m coming too!” he shouted back.

She pushed him off and he rolled to one side. A string of semen went flying through the air in a perfect arc, landing on his thighs. She put her hands over her crotch.

“What the fuck are you playing at… ” he started, then finally saw the lads.

“Oh!”

It was indeed Squadron Leader Dawkins. And the woman trying to cover herself, was not his wife. They knew her too. A bitch with her own office in station headquarters.

“Just keep quiet.” said Jem. He walked to the woman’s pile of clothes and kicked them out of her reach as she stretched for them. Then he turned to her.

“And you can put your hands behind your neck and open your legs again. You were quick enough to open them for this old bugger. Give us something to look at, while we’re negotiating with Casanova here.”

“I will not!” she shouted.

“Then I’ll piss on your clothes, accidentally of course.”

With perfect timing, Dom pointed his rifle halfway between them, and made a big show of working the action, sliding a bullet in the chamber.

“One up the spout as we say.” he said, grinning. “A bit like you’ve just had ma’am!”

She moved her hands away from her crotch.

“And you,” Jem turned to the officer, “stop scrabbling for your bloody trousers!”

“Look lads, be reasonable.” said Dawkins, but there was little authority in his voice. “This is hardly a shooting matter, or even a security breach. Put the rifles down.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Put them away now! That’s an order!”

At that moment, it could have gone either way. Somebody had to be assertive. It should have been the Squadron Leader. But when you’re naked, and caught in the act of adultery, it is not easy to command respect. Jem stepped forward and trod heavily on his ankle.

“I told you to keep quiet!” he turned to Dom. “This is how it went down mate, remember? We saw unauthorised people down here, didn’t we?”

“That’s right!” agreed Dom, ad-libbing. “We couldn’t make them out in the long grass, so we came closer. Then noticed suspicious activity. Looked like terrorists.”

“Next thing we know,” continued Jem, “someone was jumping up and shouting. We didn’t notice their state of undress. There was confusion; you know how these things happen. I shouted ‘Halt! Stand still or I’ll fire!'”

“He did; I heard him. And you ignored him and started to run away.” Dom was on a roll now. “And you bent to pick up a gun. How were we to know it was your shoe?”

“And you… ” Jem prodded the Squadron Leader with his rifle, “… won’t be in a position to argue with a bullet in your head Will you?”

He went white. This was spiralling out of control. The woman shouted.

“And you think I will corroborate this fiction?”

Jem turned on her.

“I’m quite sure you will. You are Flight Lieutenant Thompson. You don’t know me but I know you, and this is not your husband! You work in SHQ, and are the most unpleasant officer we lower orders have to deal with. Loads of guys detest you, though that doesn’t stop them fantasising about seeing you naked. But I doubt if any of them imagined such a hairy cunt. Looks like a hedgehog crawled up there!”

“How dare you!” she shouted.

“He dares, because we know your husband’s a Flight Lieutenant too.” added Dom. “Away on detachment in Germany, if I’m not mistaken. He also works in Ops now I come to think of it, under our Squadron Leader here. Not quite as under him as you were though! I guess this means you’re getting him his next promotion.”

He turned to Jem.

“Told you they were all at it, didn’t I?”

Jem couldn’t help but grin. He had never liked Flight Lieutenant Thompson and was enjoying her discomfort. She was a supercilious bitch who delighted in making the other ranks feel small. There would be revenge today; payback for all the sarcasm and aggravation he’d suffered.

Jem ignored Dom and continued, staring at her.

“You’d better start grasping the reality of your situation. If we should ‘accidentally’ shoot your stud here, we will simply let you go. OK, we’d own up to our mistake, and there’d be a court martial. But what would you do? Gallop into the courtroom like the last minute cavalry? Tell everyone what really happened?

“‘They’re both lying sir! I was there fucking the Squadron Leader. I saw the whole thing, over his shoulder while he was trying to make me cum!’ Wouldn’t bring much comfort to his widow, would it?”

She stared in horror.

They were bluffing, and the officers suspected as much. But loaded rifles were scary and patrols were under orders to report all unusual activity. The airmen might not actually shoot anybody, but they might pass their observations further up the chain of command. The real threat was having this made public.

He told the officers there was an Black Alert.

“I didn’t hear any sirens.” Dawkins said.

“You don’t get them for a Black. You should know that.”

Jem made a point of not calling him sir. Best keep the upper hand. They established that the his wife had gone out to a car boot sale. She wasn’t due back till this afternoon. And the Sarah Thompson’s old man was in Germany. Before long, they both slumped in defeat, and asked what they had to do to get out of this situation.

“Easy.” said Jem, indicating the Squadron Leader. “To get away scot-free, you walk back to the cashpoint at the NAAFI supermarket. Don’t worry, you can put your clothes on first. Bring me two hundred pounds.”

“I can’t withdraw that much!”

“Then you’ll have to go home and get more from your house. Make it up to two hundred with jewellery or something. Pick your way through the trees back to quarters, same way you got here.”

He tried to dissuade them, then tried to reduce the amount, but it’s not easy to negotiate when your dick’s out. A few minutes later he left, walking briskly. Flight Lieutenant Thompson reached for her clothes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Jem. “We haven’t finished with you yet.”

“You said you’d let us go. He’ll bring the money.”

“I did not say any such thing.” said Jem. “The Squadron Leader’s deal is to get himself out of this mess.”

She froze.

“Now he’s out of the picture, you are the only one acting suspiciously. We’ll say you were sunbathing, but out of uniform we didn’t recognise you. We couldn’t find your clothes, so took take you back to the guardhouse as you are. And if you try and spin some alternative yarn, we’ll call Dawkins up as a witness.”

Dom jumped in again.

“So would you care to guess the alternative, ma’am? I’ll give you a clue. You won’t be needing panties!”

Sarah knew she had no choice. She was angry at them, but mostly at herself. And they were right; her husband did know what she was doing. He had even asked her to give him a detailed account. It further infuriated her that they had assumed this was for her husband’s promotion, and been right! Jem instructed her to lie on the blanket, pull her knees back to her shoulders.

“Let’s have a good look at that spectacular cunt.” he said. Both lads squatted in front of her and gazed at it. It was well lubricated, but free of cum. The Squadron Leader hadn’t ejaculated until she’d pushed him out of her. Her thighs were slim and her pubes were dark brown.

“Look!” said Jem. “Exact opposite of Big Shirley!”

“Yeah, but you can hardly see these nips! They’re the same colour as her tits — how weird! Christ they’re hard though. You could cut glass with them!”

“My turn first up her cunt.” said Jem. “It was my plan.”

“OK. But let me lick her out before you do her.”

Dom thumbed her cunt lips open and got stuck in, slurping away eagerly and she suddenly yelped with pain.

“What did you do?” asked Jem

“Bit her clit, they’re supposed to like that!” answered Dom, standing again. He looked at her with disdain. “Don’t be such a baby. It was only a little nibble! I’ll bite your nipples in a minute; maybe they’ll go darker!”

Jem dropped his trousers and took his friend’s place. He sucked at her briefly and sat up, spitting a couple of pubic hairs out. Then slid is dick into her.

“Hang on a minute mate. I don’t want sloppy seconds. She’ll be too wet for me to feel anything. Can you come in her mouth?”

Jem paused. The small fraction of his dick still visible seemed to throb with impatience.

“OK then.”

“You’re a gentleman! I’ll cum in her mouth too.”

Mrs Thompson felt humiliated, lying with her legs open, while these two louts talked about her as if she was a piece of meat. Usually, she enjoyed the feeling of semen flooding inside her. But this morning it seemed she was going to have sex with three men, and not feel a drop!

She had never liked the taste of semen, and would not allow her husband to finish in her mouth during their foreplay. The only man who had ever ejaculated down her throat had been the station commander at their last posting. Just before she got made up to Flight Lieutenant. At the time, it seemed to be worth the unpleasantness.

“Please, not in my mouth!”

They ignored her. Jem got back to work and thrust into her. Dom got behind her head and kneeled on the edge of the blanket. He hauled back on her ankles, and thrust his penis into her mouth. Sarah shuddered, and prayed for it to be over. But Jem was somewhat better equipped than the Squadron Leader, and her vagina responded accordingly. She got wetter. Despite her disgust, she started to groan.

“Yeah, that’s the problem isn’t it ma’am? Your mouth says ‘no’ — at least it would if it wasn’t full of cock — but where I am feels more like a ‘yes please!’. Cunts and nipples don’t lie.”

He was right. Sarah’s mind was telling her this was rape, but her body was betraying her. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t done this before, with men who were not her husband. Part of her was saying this is what she planned for Saturday morning anyway. Despite her protestations, her vagina was enjoy the attention. She was on the point of orgasm when he suddenly stopped.

“Get on all fours.” he ordered. “Dom, your turn now.”

Sarah rolled over onto her hands and knees and Jem came around to the front and pushed his dick between her lips. She’d never tasted her own juices before; the idea of it disgusted her, but the reality was not unpleasant. She was further infuriated at the ‘your turn now’; like she was a fairground ride. Jem grasped her hair and pulled till her lips reached his belly, while Dom took her from behind.

“This is called spitroasting in porn mags!” said Dom.

Soon they had a rhythm going where they both pushed into her at the same time. She began to gag but Jem held her head. He ordered her to swallow everything as he unloaded into her mouth. But it was too much for her. She drooled some onto the edge of the blanket.

“I said ‘swallow it’ not chuck it back up!”

“You’re too rough!” she complained, hating the sound of her whiny voice.

“I’m guessing she didn’t like the taste of her own cunt.” observed Dom. “It’ll be worse when you swallow mine ma’am; I’m going to fuck your arse!”

“No, please!” she wailed, “Do not put it in my anus!”

“Anus!” he sneered.

Jem was reminded of Big Shirley’s ‘Not my bum! Not my bum!’ protestations. and could see this woman was on the verge of tears. At least Shirley had not been crying, but he was still angry and intent on exacting revenge.

“So why does your old man think you can help him up the promotion ladder?” said Dom. “You don’t like it in your mouth, you don’t take it up the shitter. Is this all you have to offer? A boring straight fuck? Mummy and daddy sex, and don’t mess my hair up? Pathetic!”

Sarah had tried anal sex and had hated it, and was horrified at the thought of doing it again.

“Please! Not my bottom! I’ll do anything else.”

Jem glanced at his friend, who shrugged.

“Here’s the deal then. Bend over and lick that spillage off the blanket. We’ll then spitroast you again, swapping places as we go. Dom can cum in your mouth, and my second load will decorate your hair. You can walk home looking like a Christmas tree.”

With a low moan, she started to lick the blanket while Dom plunged into her from behind. Jem put his foot on the back of her head and pushed her face down to ensure she did a thorough job.

“Every last drop!” he ordered. “Leave a stain and your arse is on the line.”

Dom was pissed off at not getting an arse fuck and stuck his thumb up there. She flinched. As agreed, when she had cleaned up the mess, the lads swapped places. As Jem took over duties at the rear, she was quietly impressed with his powers of recovery. Dom went to work in her mouth.

They swapped twice more before Dom grabbed Sarah’s hair and shot his load down her throat. When Jem was ready to climax, they swapped for the last time. Dom forced her hands behind her and gripped her head. Jem came round in front of her. She looked up at him. He sprayed his jism over her face and hair. Then went through her handbag and removed the comb and tissues.

She stood up and retrieved what was left of her clothes, wiped her face with the inside of her dress and put it on. Finally she fingered the semen through her hair till there were just a few damp streaks. She didn’t notice a small pearl stuck to one lobe like an earring.

“Am I free to go now?”

“Of course. We may be mere rankers but we keep our word — your delicate arsehole remains unsullied. But don’t forget this, next time our paths cross. Not ‘Oh shit, these are the blokes who made fun of my pubes’. Think about how you treat us, and try being a bit more polite. We may not be officers, but we’re not animals. And at least we don’t ask our wives to fuck our way to the top.”

She slipped on her shoes.

“May I have my underthings back? Please?”

“No. I’m keeping them as a memento. I’ll probably throw the bra away, but will keep the panties till the smell of your cunt has worn off. You can enjoy the breeze through your huge thatch. Hope the wind doesn’t get too strong!”

She sighed.

Meanwhile, Squadron Leader Dawkins had got a hundred and fifty pounds from the bank and gone home to find the rest. As he entered, the phone was ringing. He was informed of the alert, and given one hour to report to the Officers’ Mess. He found the rest of the cash stashed away for emergencies. He scrambled into his uniform and rushed back through the trees. There was just enough time to pay off these yobs and get to work.

The two airmen trudged back into the guardhouse, each with back pockets a hundred pounds fuller. Thompson’s bra had long since been discarded, but her moist panties caused the slightest bulge in Jem’s pocket.

“You took your bloody time.”

“Got to do a thorough job, sarge.” said Jem, grinning.

“Anything to report?” asked Sergeant Coates.

“The usual; officers screwing each other’s wives on a blanket!”

“Don’t piss about Jones. Do I have to make an entry in the log or not?”

“Nothing to report sarge.”

“There’s not exactly a crowd of people in here.” muttered Dom. “Don’t you think Maisie is looking flushed?”

“Don’t you ever let up?” Jem muttered back.

But the truth was, he did think Maisie was looking pink. Dom noticed the big picture, but Jem spotted little details. Maisie had been wearing tights when she’d come on duty. But now appeared to be bare legged. As he passed, he dropped his head to her ear.

“You’re shirt buttons are done up wrong!” he whispered.

She looked down at her ample bosom and her hands shot to the buttons. They were all done up correctly, and her face went bright red.

“Gotcha!”

*

As Sunday dragged on, Jem, Dom, and Maisie had their shifts extended to midnight, and were given four hours off to get their heads down. The two lads slept soundly and when they awoke, the alert was still in full swing.

Sergeant Coates got some down time as well, and went back to his house. He had been divorced less than a year and was still entitled to a married quarter. He wasn’t looking forward to his next posting, where he would be accommodated in the Sergeant’s Mess as a single man. He tramped upstairs to his double bed and stripped off everything except his underpants. Then set his alarm clock and flopped onto his back, on top of the duvet.

Maisie stood at the end of the bed and removed her clothes, while he watched her.

“You need to be more careful Maisie.” He reached into his pocket and removed her tights. “You left these under the blanket in the guardhouse cell.”

“Fun though, wasn’t it? Bit quick, but I managed to make you cum. Now it’s my turn. I’ll just nip to your bathroom, I’m still dripping! Get all your kit off this time, instead of just dropping your working blues!”

He wriggled out of his pants while Maisie douched away his earlier efforts.

“Here, you’d better check I cleaned it all up properly.”

She sat on his face.

“Do you want me to go and have a wash?” he asked, pushing her bottom away from his face.

“No, I like the taste of my pussy.”

She stretched out in the classic sixtynine position and began to suck his dick back into life.

He reciprocated, opening her vulva, and thrusting his tongue in, then tongued her arsehole.

“Ooh, that’s nice! Do you suppose the guys suspect? Jem said something strange, when he got back off patrol.”

“No. They’re just lads, they talk about it all the time. Probably haven’t had their leg over in months.”

“Come on sarge, get on top of me. I want that monster inside me again!”

They were both keen to try anal, but Maisie needed more loosening up before they had full penetration. Coates eased about half his prodigious length into her vagina. As they got into a rhythm, he slid the rest in, and slipped a finger into her anus.

Maisie climaxed immediately, as she always did. This was the best part now. He would pound away into her and she would try to count how many more times she would achieve orgasm. Coates had the biggest dick she had ever seen. She wondered if it had anything to do with his wife leaving. Word on the grapevine had it that Mrs Coates had run off with another woman!

*

“If you didn’t get your dinners, tough.” Sergeant Coates was saying. “The airman’s mess will be extending supper from 22.30 till 01.30 tomorrow. You lads have got a cushy number till midnight and our Alert Co-ordinator will explain it to you. Here he is now.”

In walked a familiar Ops officer. They all saluted.

“Ah, Squadron Leader Dawkins. I’m just briefing the troops sir, perhaps you’d like to take over.”

Dawkins nodded and looked suitably embarrassed when he recognised Jem and Dom.

“Caught us all with our pants down, this alert being extended.” boomed the sergeant. Maisie suppressed a smile, but Dom just grinned widely. Jem smothered a cough, and Dawkins went red. He recovered, and issued their instructions. Starting with Jem and Dom.

“Tonight, you airmen will man the barrier to officers’ quarters. If you recognise a car’s occupants, confirm their 1250 ID, then get them to check the boot with you. If they are satisfied then so are you, and they can drive through.

If you do not recognise them, you are not qualified to carry out a vehicle search, so the car must be left in the trees, at least one hundred yards from the barrier. It will be taken to the secure Armoury compound by their personnel. Nobody, in uniform or civvies, is allowed past, unless they show their 1250. No ID, they will have to be searched.”

“Any questions so far?”

“Civilians?” asked Maisie. “They don’t have ID.”

“Searched. The females will be your task Milligan.”.

“Officers’ wives are not going to like that, sir.”

“Anyone without ID, whatever gender, must be searched. Officers’ wives, all wives, understand this. If they refuse to allow you to carry out orders, they do not pass. You will escort them to this guardhouse. Understood?”

“I trust your wife is home sir.” said Coates.

“She is.”

“To recap then… ”

There was a barely audible sigh.

“SACW Milligan will search the females, and you men will search the males. Don’t forget, you’ve been taught how to do it, so be thorough. Some of the younger officers can get a bit enthusiastic about checking on you, especially if they’ve had a few drinks. I’m not claiming they enjoy having the old meat and two veg fondled, but they may report you if the job is not done properly.”

“Understood sir.”

“The NAAFI and all other bars will close at 22.00, and all barriers will close at 22.30. After that, no cars may enter, with the exception of emergency vehicles. Nor may any personnel. No exceptions. Over to you Sergeant Coates.”

“Squadron Leader Dawkins will be Officer I/C on your barrier and the one at the north end of the road. He’ll liaise between the two positions. SACW Milligan, you’ll also be floating. That’s it, there’s a brew on through here. You’re out in fifteen minutes.”

“What’s the little tent for sir? If it had stripes, it’d look like a Punch and Judy show!” asked Jem.

“It’s doubtful you will have to search anyone this time of night, but that is for privacy if you do. Also, you can sit in there, out of the wind, when it’s quiet.”

“Be careful farther up this road sir.” said Dom. “There’s a gap in the fence, people could be getting up to anything!”

“Thank you, Marriot.” said Dawkins, quietly seething. “Milligan, go and check that tent a moment. See if there are any torches in there.”

He walked Jem and Dom a short way into the trees.

“Now listen you two. The incident with Flight Lieutenant Thompson and myself is history. You’ve been paid, by her too I suspect, so do not mention it again; even in fun. We’re on duty now.”

“Right sir!”

Evening passed into night with little activity. Dawkins spent most of his time away from Jem and Dom, and returned at ten thirty.

“Right.” he announced. “I’ll take Milligan for supper. We’re all eating in the same mess tonight. Remember, only officers with ID go through; nobody else and no cars. I’ll relieve you about 23.30. Then you can get your supper.”

“Don’t tell me.” said Jem, as they left. “You’re wondering if he’s going to have a quick knee-trembler with her!”

“Stranger things have happened.” replied Dom. “Actually I was thinking he might nip back to the guardhouse and go twos up with Coates!”

“Of course, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Tell you what though. I don’t fancy Maisie as much now I’ve had a commissioned officer! There is a certain attraction in fucking women who outrank you!”

“So, you think you’re going up in the world now you’ve fucked a Flight Lieutenant!”

“Just different; not going up in the world. All officers’ wives are sluts. High class whores, the lot of them. The Group Captain has fucked half the officers’ wives on the camp. Single officers don’t get promoted. You check!”

A VW Scirocco was approaching. It pulled over to the side of the road at the barrier and its lights were turned off. A middle-aged woman got out. She was wearing a lightweight sweater, a pleated skirt just above the knee, and very high heels. Jem recognised her immediately.

“Mrs Dawkins. Your husband said you were home.”

“I had to go out again. Is he around?”

“He’s just gone for supper.”

“Shit! I thought this would be over by now. Ah well. Come and check the boot with me lads, and I’ll get home. I know the drill, so please be quick.”

“Sorry, no can do.”

Jem explained the Black Alert rules and how neither she nor her car could be allowed through. There were no exceptions. Also, they had been ordered to get her car logged, and to deliver her to the guardhouse. She argued, but only briefly; she knew the military is run on rules so there was no point. She went very calm.

“OK, listen carefully you boys. I left home again after my husband was called in. He assured me this would be all over by six. I know all about him and Sarah Thompson and it shouldn’t piss me off, yet it does, a lot. She’s younger than me. He gets to fuck young girls on their way up, but I get wrinkly Group Captains who can barely get it up! So, I got my revenge tonight, with a young man in town.”