Back when I was in the Navy, I got shore duty with one of the F/A-18 training squadrons at NAS Fallon, Nevada in the mid-80s. We were a detachment from our main squadron, a RAG (Replacement Air Group) squadron that was teaching A-7E pilots how to properly operate the F/A-18 Hornet, which was new to the fleet in those days.

Within a couple of weeks of getting there, a female sailor who was "ship's company" (she wasn't airwing, but worked base admin) introduced herself to me.

Being young, dumb, and full of cum, I went along with it. Hell, she was cute and had nice black magic voodoo boobies that looked like they were fun to play with. We started making out regularly shortly after, and within a couple of days, she was opening the fly of my 501s and I was opening her legs.

Little did I know what I was getting into. More on that later in my tale.

She had a POS mid-70s ugly brown Ford Mustang (a travesty on wheels, but I digress), and so we'd go places in that wreck. One Saturday, we decided to drive out to Sand Mountain, which was about 45 minutes or so east of the base on US 50.

Sand Mountain is a state recreation area consisting of a gigantic sand dune, about 500 feet high or so, surrounded by hundreds of smaller dunes, sitting at the edge of a mountain range ringing a large salt flat. It was open to off-road vehicles and people were always out there on the week-ends with dirt bikes, four-wheelers, and dune buggies.

There was a long ass dirt road leading out to the dune and because it was used heavily, it was always bumpier than hell. I guess bouncing around in that old pseudo-Mustang must have done something to her, because when we got to the parking area, which was full of campers and pick-ups with trailers, she started cooing and getting undressed.

Remember: I was young, dumb, and full of cum, so naturally, I started stripping down, too! I was as hard as a rock when she laid out across the center console and the passenger seat with her legs wide open. I stuck my purple-helmeted love warrior into her honey pot and starting banging away.

Meanwhile, dozens of dirt bikes and four wheelers are noisily zooming around outside the car. She's rubbing her muffin like she wanted to scratch it off, and my pasty white ass is pumping up and down in broad daylight and in full view of God and nature in the front seat of that cramped little car.

I remember hearing bikes and four wheelers zipping past while she's moaning and gasping like she's drowning. I'm sure I popped and I think she did, too, if my fading memory serves me well.

This was not an isolated incident. Later, I bought a used 82 Toyota long bed pickup, two-wheel drive (yeah, I know, I know. Like I said, I was young and DUMB), single cab. It had a four-speed manual transmission. Cheap, but it got me around.

One night, we were driving back to base from town in that little truck, when she suddenly wanted me to pull over. I knew a spot behind a big berm next to an irrigation canal that ran alongside the road, so I headed in there and turned off the lights.

We got nekkid, which was quite a feat in the cab of that little truck, but then, I was a lot skinnier in those days. After some quick foreplay, which got my dick harder than granite, I went in.

Fortunately, the truck had a bench seat (a rarity these days), so it was like banging on a love seat with metal and glass armrests at each end.

Of course, she's grinding away at her box while I'm pounding way at it, all wet and warm. For some reason, we had agreed that I would pull out that night, so when that moment came, I pulled out and grunted, shooting my load.

Right when I felt that first spurt after pulling out of her, she went, "Oh!", like she was shocked and surprised. As it turned out, I had had a rather vigorous ejaculation. I had sprayed her from crotch to chin with my load!

We had many adventures like that. She had me masturbate her in the common room of her barracks while we sat in the middle of a group of other men and women while we all watched a porno on the TeeVee. This was just one of the more memorable escapades we had involving our genitals.

We'd be driving along in that little truck at night, and she would go, "Pull over! Pull over!", and I would pull over and we would get nekkid and my penis would get wet.

Now, some of you might be wondering where the crazy part comes it. Well, here it is: once a month, like clockwork, she would turn full psycho for a week. I mean, full on, irrational, scary-at-times, unreasonable emotional psychotic beast-mode princess (as it turns out, she was a spoiled brat from Manhattan whose mother was an executive at a major financial institution in NYC, so she came from money. Why she had joined the Navy is still a mystery to me).

I remember one night, we were driving to town in my truck when she decided that I was guilty of some offense that only she could understand and she came at me with claws deployed, trying to scratch my eyes out!

I grabbed her wrists just in time to save my face, and had to steer us to a stop with my knees in a stick shift without driving into one of these ever-present irrigation ditches that lined all the roads there.

She went ballistic and fought me as hard as she could, but she wasn't very strong, really, and I was able to keep control of her. She finally relented but then stormed out of the truck, claiming she was going to walk back to base in the dark way out in the middle of nowhere.

I had dark visions of her dead body being discovered floating in one of the canals if I had left her alone there, and also visions of myself having to endure some rather intense interrogations from the Churchill County Sheriff's Office AND the Naval Investigative Service, so I stayed with her, following slowly behind her as she stomped angrily along side the road.

After about 15 minutes, I guess she got cold, because she finally got back in the truck and I drove us back to the base.

Yes, she was nuts, and her monthly visit from Aunt Flo exacerbated her mental condition. She liked to put her feet on the dash of my truck and fart. We were driving to Reno on I-80 one day and she was painting her nails. We were in the canyon on the big curve just east of Tracy and Clark Station. There were some rough spots in the road in that area at that time. I hit some of those, bouncing the truck a bit, and she got annoyed.

"Drive smoother, will ya!" is what she said.

I later found that bottle of nail polish on the floor, opened and drained, of course. I had to throw out that floor mat.

One day, about 6 months after she introduced herself to me, I met her for lunch at the E club. She was yammering away about how I needed to change if I wanted to be in a relationship with her, yada, yada, yada.

She gave me an ultimatum: either I had to change or we would have to break up.
I told her I would think on it and let her know the next day.

The next day came and we met again for lunch at the E club. I told her that I liked the way I was at that time, so changing for her was pretty much a no-go.

She looked at me and, in a cheerful voice, said, "Oh, good! Now I can start dating again!"

Yeah. She was nucking futs, but, man! Could she fuck!