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.r"

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