The Wives' Softball Coach - Cover

The Wives' Softball Coach

Copyright© 2004 by Erotica Author

Chapter 6

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 6 - In this completed novella, Joe is a submarnie sailor who is left behind on a patrol to attend school. He and a friend volunteer to manage the wives' softball team. During the season Joe and Kevin get drawn into the lives of the players in ways they never imagined. The scene is Hawaii in the early 1970s and I lead you through the beauty and the dirt with plenty of philosophy and fucking.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Cheating   Slut Wife   FemaleDom   Light Bond   Group Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Water Sports  

Kevin and I were walking from the boat dock on the way to the barracks. We were in school while our shipmates were out cruising under the Western Pacific. We had to take a boat to the classes, since they were on Ford Island. Now if you've managed to miss, since WW II, all the navy films ever made you might not know that Ford Island was where all the battleships the Japanese (it's not longer nice to use the shorter word, because they're of friends now) blew up were anchored. The Arizona sits on the bottom on the sub base side of the island with the memorial built over it, and the Utah sticks partially above the water on the opposite side. Check it out if your ever get there. Almost no one knows it there.

It was Friday and we just wanted to get out of uniform. We were making our way past the barbershop when a familiar van stopped and a window rolled down. I could see Jenny Martin driving, and Hannah Murkowski leaned out. "Joe, Kevin what'cha doin'?"

"Walking back to the barracks."

"We're going to drive up to Sunset Beach to get pizza and then drive the rest of the way around the island. Want to come?"

Here was a no brainer. I remembered the last time I went on a drive with Jenny and Hannah. Jenny's eyes sure got opened that night when Hannah introduced her to the fine cuisine of pussy. Kevin whispered to me, "Do we want to go?" I gave him a "what the fuck, are you nuts look," and said, "Fucking-A, we want to go."

"We're stopping for Roxie on the way." Jenny yelled through the window.

"Fine by me," I said.

Kevin and I climbed into the back of Jenny's van still in our uniforms. I sat on the floor, and Kevin lay down on bed. We drove into married housing and pulled up in front of Roxie Harper's house. She came running out wearing a bikini top and short-shorts carrying a small bag. The top showed off her medium sized breasts.

She jumped into the back and sat on the bed next to Kevin. Jenny said, "Next stop-beer."

"We do need beer," I agreed. Kevin and I ponied up ten bucks and Jenny headed for the drive-through. The sub base store that sold beer kegs and cases was a large building with garage doors at each end. You drove in one set of doors and told the guy working the place what you wanted. He rolled out a tub and filled it with ice and then dropped on cold keg in it.

Kevin and I ran around back and helped him hoist it into the back of the van. We tossed him money, and he tossed us a dozen large plastic cups and away we went.

We exited the base and took the road into Pearl City. With the mountains on our right and the blue Pacific to our left we started our trip around the island.

Kevin and I passed out the beers, and we all downed the first in seconds. The Hawaiian heat always makes the first one go down easy. Now I should point out that the events here happened before people began to give a shit about drunk driving. A van equipped with two sailors, three wives, and a cold keg of beer, made a trip around the island mandatory. A normal person driving around the island can do it, as I recall, in about three hours. It was around 145 miles and you had to hold the speed down in some areas.

I poured the second round as the base disappeared behind us. By Pearl City I was handing out thirds.

By Waipahu we were feeling the effects of the cold beer. I pointed out the street where I lived last year. I had lived in truly the most confusing subdivision ever built. There were about ten streets in it, and they all started with the prefix "Lumi-". I lived on Lumiculi Street, there was a Lumiconi Street-you get the picture. This went on throughout the whole subdivision. Our friends would look for our house and spend an hour riding around the neighborhood. Their reason for being late was always "I knew the fucking street was Lumi-something."

The house where the four of us lived had no air conditioning, so the windows were open all the time. Once we had a party-maybe twenty people. Now the intoxicant of choice at the time was pot. Everybody drank beer, but the attraction was the marijuana. The grade of Hawaiian pot was always A. Never-never Land was nearby in the state of the resin-soaked buds. At one point in this party when everyone was puffing away madly, there was a knock on the door. Some slacker was able to pull himself off the floor and look out the window. "COP" he said sotto voice. Most of the crowd were little more than vegetables, so it came to me as one of the residents and, though I was also a member of the vegetable food group; to answer the door.

The man in blue stood at the door and, very nicely said, "Could you guys perhaps shut the windows? You music is kind of loud."

Watching major prison time vanish before my eyes, I said, "Certainly Officer. No problem. The windows are already closing." He laughed at me and headed down the steps. We quickly, well as quickly as we could, shut all the windows.

We all figure after a scare like that that we needed to get a bit more stoned. So in a rustle of plastic bags, trips to the kitchen for more bong water, and the click of lighters we were again heading into the great sunset of Stonerland. Then one of the guys actually stood up. Yes, he stood up, and turned to us all and said, "Man, I mean man, we haven't been playing any music." We listen to this bit of wisdom, and all together went, "Ooooh, man, you're right." Operation of the stereo had passed anyone's ability by late afternoon. The enormity of this dawned on us like Gallagher whacking a watermelon. The cop told us to shut the window because we were a residential EPA disaster. We figured there must have been so much smoke coming out the windows; the neighbors probably wondered the next day where the hell all the food in their refrigerators went. One sailor who could stand drawled, "Man, that was one cool fucking cop."

By the time I finished that story we were over the mountains and heading down the windward side of the island, and Kevin had served up two more rounds of beers.

We met the beach again at Waialua and turned right toward Sunset. Now Sunset beach is where the huge waves roll in during the winter when the trade winds pile up the water in front of them and drive them two thousand miles the north shore of Oahu. I have watched surfers slide down the front of these moving monsters and decided that there was something crazier than diving a thousand feet underwater in a long black metal tube-riding a 40-foot wave on a piece of glazed plywood is far crazier.

We pull into a pizza place called Little Ewa's. At the time, this place was famous. The dining room was about twice the size of an average living room. There are eight tables and the best deep-dish pizza for about eight thousand miles. Inch-thick crust, not little pieces of unidentifiable meat, but chucks of spicy Italian sausage, big pieces of vegetables; it was like a stew spread out on a giant flat piece of bread. They cooked them in giant cake pans with two-inch high sides. One pizza could feed a watch; three would do the whole boat with leftovers. I was so popular you had to have reservations. Jenny had made them for three, but we all squeezed around one of the tiny tables. They didn't serve beer, but they were not picky about what you brought it. So we had to go outside to fill up our glasses.

We pushed two tables together and ordered one pizza with everything for five people. We were talking loudly and laughing, but so was everyone else, so we didn't bother anyone. The décor had a surfer theme, but it was a popular sailor bar because of the good food. We sat there for about two hours eating pizza and drinking beer. Kevin kept going to the van and refilling the glasses.

It was dark by the time we poured ourselves out of there. We headed further around the island. We passed through Laie, Hauula, Kahana, Waiahole, and drove into Kaneohe. You folks all remember Kaneohe, don't you?

Hannah turns around from the front seat and says to Roxie, "Ever been to the beach in Kaneohe?"

"No, but I've heard it's great and it's not crowded because the tourists can't get to in to a Naval Air Station."

"That's right. Isn't it Joe?"

"Wouldn't know, never been there."

"Joe, I seem to remember seeing you there once."

"Nope wasn't me, must have been you and your husband who went there."

"Maybe," she said laughing. Penny wasn't laughing because she very well remembered the last trip here. It had broadened her horizons greatly.

Hannah was pretty drunk, so when she said, "Let's go skinny dipping." We had to take her seriously.

Jenny and I laughed. Roxie looked a bit worried and Kevin, in a major set back in his new attitude, looked quite anxious about going.

"Come on Jenny, remember the fun we had last time," Hannah said with an edge in her voice. She reached over and caressed Jenny's cheek. Hannah was telling tales, but was too drunk to care. Kevin didn't know what she meant. He had passed out drunk in a bar that night, and missed the ride to paradise. I think all the training I had been giving him lately was, in part, due to guilt on my part for leaving him there sleeping while I went on to threesome with Jenny and Hannah.

"Okay." I watched her put her hand on Hannah's thigh, and not remove it.

We straightened up the best we could and entered the NAS, waved through by a bored sailor. Jenny knew the way to the beach and parked in almost the same spot she had before.

As Jenny jumped out she said to me, "Joe, under the bed is a small tent why don't you grab that and we'll use it in case it rains. Get the towels too, and Joe, there's a lantern under the sink."

"Sure. Come on, Kevin. Let's get this setup." We found a smooth spot on the beach and in five minutes had the tent up. We heard the ladies all laughing as they struggled to get the keg and the ice tub down to the tent. It was a lot lighter now as much of the beer was in us, and the ice had melted, but the beer was still cold.

Once set up Jenny, Hannah, and I started stripping. Kevin and Roxie watched us nervously. Kevin seemed to be nervous about stripping.

Roxie said, "I've never been naked around a group of people before. I'm not sure I can do this."

Kevin was in agreement. I think he liked Roxie and wasn't going to leave her alone. What a gentleman!

Hannah said as she dropped her panties, exposing her shaved pussy, "If you don't feel like it don't. There are a couple of joints in the bag I put in the tent. Go in there and get high."

We headed for the beach as Roxie and Kevin went into the tent. We ran into the water and had a blast throwing each other around and copping lots of feels. I was hard as a rock after I saw Jenny and Hannah kiss. Two women kissing in knee-deep water by moonlight will put the starch in anyone's sock. It was obvious that they had been together since the last midnight swim. They seemed so comfortable together as the quickly intertwined their arms and their hands descended to the ass of their partner. Hannah's hand moved around and cupped Jenny's pussy, and I could see in the darkness that Hannah's finger entered her. Jenny gasped. "Oh, Hannah, you know just how to do me." She laughed and said, "We've sure had enough practice in the last couple of weeks."

I wonder what old Chief Martin is going to do when he comes back and finds his wife is straddling the sexuality fence. The chief's life is about to get either very good, or very bad depending if Jenny can stay balanced on the fence and doesn't fall to the other side.

They broke their embrace and walked over to me. Jenny planted a deep kiss on me and Hannah took my cock and stroked it. "Jenny, Joe, lets go up to the tent where we can lie down."

Jenny wondered, "What about Kevin and Roxie?"

"I think Kevin and Roxie would love to watch," I said.

"Do you think so?"

I smiled. "I think Kevin just might surprise you two."

We started back to the tent. At about thirty feet out we heard a sound, a low crying sound that came from the direction of the tent. At twenty feet we hear a loud, "Oh, fuck me." We looked at each other and laughed.

Hannah smirked, "I think we may end up being the watchers."

At ten feet there was no doubt that Roxie was getting the fucking of her life from my boy Kevin-personally trained by me. She rapidly alternated between "Oh, oh, oh, oh" and "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." I pulled the tent flap aside and the lantern we brought from the van illuminated the interior. Roxie was on her back. She was naked and her clothes were thrown everywhere. Kevin was fully clothed except his pants were around his knees. His cock was slurping as he pumped Roxie's very wet pussy. She was wrapped around him and her eyes were tightly closed as Kevin rode her.

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