Date: Tue, 5 Dec 2006 02:50:30 -0800 (PST)
From: James Robinson <juzjamie20@yahoo.com.au>
Subject: Atlantic Express, Chapter 29

This story contains sex between males if you don't like this type of tale
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Atlantic Express Chapter 29             by justjames17.


Foxhound went through her shake down and Charles was well pleased with the
performance of his new crew, the officers and men seemed keen and efficient
and he told Alan, the first lieutenant, he was satisfied with how the crew
worked. The young American grinned disarmingly at his new captain's words
and seemed to swell in size with pride. Charles saw the reaction and smiled
inwardly seeing how he'd made the volunteer officer happy, after all there
were few Americans attached to the Royal Navy although quite a few pilots
had come across flying with the RAF and gaining experience in combat
conditions.

The ship steamed back to Scarpa and moored once again waiting to refuel and
top up the ammunition expended in their short excursion to sea. A boat
approached the ship and stopped alongside bearing an officer who climbed
aboard bearing a large manila envelope and after saluting the ship he
brought the papers to Charles who was seated on the bridge. Charles thanked
the lieutenant who saluted and hurried away as he opened the sealed
envelope, inside were their sailing orders requiring that Foxhound sailed
as soon as possible for Gibraltar, the orders informed Charles that the
oiler, stores and munitioning barges would be alongside forthwith.

Charles looked out over the anchorage and saw these vessels approaching
from the shore base, he called Alan to his side and informed him that the
ship needed to be loaded and ready for sea as soon as possible and set him
the task of getting the operation done with all speed. Alan saluted and
bounded away grasping the handset and barking orders over the intercom, the
sound of running boots gave proof of the crew leaping into action. Charles
sat back nodding at the alacrity shown as the crew threw themselves into
the onerous task of reprovisioning their ship.

Some three hours later the barges cast off their lines and hoses and set
off shorewards once again as the destroyer's twin funnels vented shimmering
fumes showing her boilers were standing by ready to sail. Charles ordered
the boatswain to pipe "stations for leaving harbour" and the crew dressed
the deck as she cast off her moorings and slowly made her way towards the
antisubmarine net guarded entrance. The boom guard boat fussed about as she
opened a path through the boom for the destroyer, Foxhound slipped smoothly
through the gap and set course South as the nets were closed behind her.

The trip down to Gibraltar was uneventful and apart from some dirty weather
in the notorious Bay of Biscay, the voyage helped settle the crew and
Charles got used to handling the smaller boat. The Rock hove above the
horizon guarding the entrance to the Med like a crouching lion. The massive
monolith dominated the narrow entrance between Spain and Morocco and was a
massive base for the Royal Navy. Foxhound made her number to the shore
station as soon as she was close enough and the boom was opened to greet
the latest arrival to bolster the Mediterranean fleet. A launch met her and
guided her to a mooring amidst a trot of he sister destroyers all nuzzling
their buoys amicably, Foxhound picked up her mooring and soon was wind rode
as she swung bow on to the breeze.

Charles rang down finished with engines and the boat stilled as she came to
rest bows facing the impressive rock, where the Barbary apes watched the
new arrival nonchalantly as they groomed each other. The boat had hardly
come to rest when the signal lamp ashore began blinking her a message
informing them to prepare for refuelling and for Charles to report aboard
the Fortitude, the senior officer of the squadron's boat. Charles called
away the whaler and the crew set to with a will pulling on the oars in
unison speeding the heavy boat across to the Fortitude. Charles hurried
aboard saluted the ship and acknowledged the officer of the deck's salute
then followed him to the captain's cabin. Captain Richards a tall thin man
in his 40's awaited Charles seated at his table in the cabin, Charles
saluted him and took a seat as they shook hands.

Charles studied the hawk features of the man seeing the dark circles about
his eyes and the lined face showing the strain of combat, the senior
officer smiled at Charles and began to speak, "Welcome to the Mediterranean
Charles, you will find the weather here kinder than where you have operated
before but the action here is hectic and non stop similar to the Atlantic
convoys even much worse as we are under air attack nearly the whole time,
not to mention the threat of the Italian Navy and German U-boats prowling
the waters."

Charles began inquiring about the action and tactics being used and the
captain filled him in on the tactics and the aggression of the enemy. He
warned Charles of the Italian frogmen who rode torpedos steering them
towards the ships and the small fast motorboats they used packed with
explosives, which they navigated towards their targets before leaping
overboard and escaping in the darkness. Charles was amazed at these tactics
as the captain described the gear used by these daring brave enemy, they
wore air tanks on their backs from which they breathed as they swam away
under water wearing goggles and black rubberised suits to protect them from
hypothermia in the water. This was an amazing revelation to Charles who had
never heard of frogmen before; he was dumbfounded by the ingenuity of the
Italians.

The captain told Charles that he had arrived just in time to take place in
a sortie to convince the French Naval ships anchored in Mers-el-Kebir to
either join with the British or scuttle their ships. Admiral Somerville
aboard the battle cruiser HMS Hood along with the aircraft carrier Ark
Royal and the battleships Valiant and Resolution, both veterans of World
War 1 plus a couple of light cruisers and the flotilla of destroyers were
to set sail during the night to arrive off the port at dawn. The operation
was named Catapult and Charles was to sail with the flotilla as his baptism
to the Mediterranean.

The fleet steamed quietly from harbour in the wee small hours, the night
was black as pitch with a heavy overcast masking the stars, they South from
the Rock forming up heavy units in the centre with the cruisers and
destroyers operating as a screen against enemy attack. The dawn found them
off the harbour of Mers-el-Kebir where part of the French fleet was
anchored. The French had signed an armistice with the Germans on their
defeat and the British had demanded they either join with them or face the
consequences, as they couldn't have the Germans taking over the ships.

Admiral Cunningham signalled the French to surrender their ships or he
would open fire, the British could see the four Battleships in the harbour,
The Provenance, Dunkerque, Strasbourg and the Bretagne along with half a
dozen destroyers and a seaplane tender. The French ignored the demand and
the Hood opened fire wreathing herself in cordite smoke as her massive
shells screamed through the air to plummet down in the crowded port. Huge
water spouts heaved into the air awakening the French sailors to their
fate, the crews rushed to get up steam as their gunners raced to man the
turrets but the British fleet all opened fire as one. Shells hit creating
havoc and death the third salvo hit the Bretagne rupturing her hull and she
capsized and sank within 10 minutes. The other French capital ships
succeeded in raising steam and began to move but in the chaos and panic the
battleships Provenance and Dunkerque ran aground. The harbour covered in
smoke from gunfire and burning installations hid the fleet as the British
sailed off shore, unseen the Strasbourg and four destroyers slipped out and
steamed at full speed towards France.

The Foxhound raced after the escaping French but was driven back by their
combined fire as she signalled to the Hood of the escape, Cunningham knew
he would risk his fleet pursuing the fleeing ships as the German air force
would be alerted to give them air cover. The shelling finished and the
British turned back towards Gibraltar leaving a demoralised and shattered
French fleet nursing its wounds their battle ships heavily aground and
damaged. The return journey was suddenly disrupted by the sight of four
torpedo tracks racing through the calm blue waters towards the HMS Hood; a
submarine had opened fire at the pride of the British navy.

Foxhound and Firedrake were despatched to track down the hidden foe and the
two sister ships raced at full speed towards the estimated firing position,
as they neared the area they slowed and lowered their asdic domes and began
searching the depths. Back and forth the two small ships prowled searching
the empty pings coursing through the sea not finding and bouncing back from
the unseen enemy. Firedrake got an echo and signalled Foxhound the position
and bearing and Charles called for full speed ahead as their asdic was
retracted and the propellers thrashed the water driving her forward.

Again and again she dropped her depth charges, the sea tortured and torn by
the explosions yielded nothing but spray and dead fish but as her charges
were nearly used there was a shimmering translucence on the disturbed
frothy sea. The shallowness of the Med worked against the submarine as they
were unable to dive deep, oil seeped to the surface in a huge spreading
pool, huge bubbles of air humped and burst then articles of clothing and
other unidentifiable objects dotted the sea as gulls squabbled and
fluttered about the area picking up dead or dying fish and other edible
objects. Charles steamed slowly through the disturbed water fished out some
clothing and saw it was German naval clothing, eventually two bodies broke
surface floating limp and motionless as they sailed past. The crew cheered
and showed their excitement at the victory as the two destroyers turned for
base, their spirits high after the two successful actions.  They reached
Gibraltar and entered harbour as they signalled the result to the base and
the admiral's ship; they moored at their buoys and Charles wrote in the log
then made out a report for his squadron commander. Charles was impressed
with both the gunners and the depth charge crews they had all carried out
their duties brilliantly, he sent for the Gunner and when he arrived and
knocked at the door Charles told him to enter. The young officer stood to
attention inside his captain's cabin until Charles asked him to sit and the
handsome young man sat primly on the wooden chair facing Charles but
looking decidedly nervous.

Charles looked up from his writing and put aside his fountain pen after
screwing on the cap then sat back and studied young Douglas smiling at him
genially. The young man squirmed in the chair at Charles attention looking
uncomfortable his shyness evident, Charles spoke, "I called you here to
tell you I was agreeably impressed with both the gun crews and the depth
charge crews under fire. The men were a credit to your training lad you
should be very proud of them."

The lieutenant blushed heavily as he sat mute before his commanding
officer; Charles called for Bradley to bring some scotch and water to
celebrate. Bradley appeared bearing a tray with a bottle of Dewares Scotch
and a jug of water with two glasses and set it on the table then withdrew
quietly. Charles poured two drinks and picked up the water jug looking at
the young officer inquiringly, the gunner nodded and said, "Thank you sir,
plenty of water thanks I'm not a big drinker."

Charles smiled at the handsome young officer as he poured the liquor; he
was admiring the fresh clean-cut visage, the truly English peaches and
cream complexion set off a pair of wide spaced soft grey eyes framed by
long fair lashes a straight fine nose and very luscious pink lips. The
gunner looked up and saw the intensity of Charles stare and blushed bright
pink as he looked down once again staring uncomfortably at the
tabletop. Charles chuckled quietly and handed the lad his glass, Douglas
took it and their fingers touched sending excited tingling through both
men.

Charles felt the excitement and Douglas raised his eyes once again showing
his realisation of a magical moment as his eyes widened in
surprise. Charles maintained the moment by holding onto the glass a
fraction longer as the young officer sat motionless as if hypnoti9sed by
the contact. Charles felt his penis growing in his pants as the electricity
surged between them, the lad seemed to squirm slightly on the hard wooden
chair seat as if he suddenly was uncomfortable as Charles smiled
disarmingly and relinquished the glass to the young officer. He now was
certain that Malcolm was if not homosexual then definitely had tendencies
that way, the two men sat opposite each other studying one another, Charles
blatantly while the gunner did so furtively with quick shy little glances.

Charles stood up ostentatiously adjusting his hard tool in his trousers as
the lad watched his face flushed and wide eyes staring openly, Charles
moved to the side and looked down at Malcolm's crotch partly hidden by the
uniform jacket but still showing a firm bulge. Charles placed his hand on
the young man's shoulder and felt him shiver and jerk slightly at his
touch, he massaged the firm flesh under the serge material then returned to
his seat and took a sip of his whisky leaving Malcolm confused and
unsettled. Charles smiled to himself, as he knew he had commenced the
action to seduce the naive lad and hoped that Bryce would complete the task
soon. They chatted on about the gunnery and the success of the recent
operation before Charles dismissed the gunner who left the cabin in a
confused state of mind with a rock hard rod in his trousers as he relived
seeing the captain's erection.

In the passageway he ran into Bryce on his way to the captain bearing a
message from the radio officer, Bryce noticed the young lieutenants
throbbing cock and he ensured the officer saw him staring as he licked his
lips erotically. He slowly raised his eyes till he stared into the gunners
and he smiled as he rubbed his own crotch suggestively. Malcolm couldn't
help noticing the good-looking youth's actions and his eyes locked on to
his crotch as Bryce clutched and hefted his meat in his pants.  The young
lieutenant was again feeling incredibly hot as his face flushed and
perspiration broke out on his forehead. His brain awhirl with confusing
erotic thoughts as he walked semi dazed to his small cabin, he opened the
door and entered closing it behind him then he removed his jacket and threw
himself onto his bunk and tore open his trousers pulling out his hard hot
horn and started stroking it frantically.

In two minutes he arched his hips up legs wide apart throbbing tool
glistening as if about to burst as he climaxed a torrent of tool juice up
into the air then it fell spattering all over his uniform shirt, lower
abdomen and his pubes. He gasped and shook as he collapsed spent on his
bed, hand still stroking the dregs from his balls.

He slowly calmed and lay there dazed by his feverish desire to wank off, he
pictured both Bryce and his commanding officer's boners in their uniforms
and had the terrible urge to fondle and investigate both men's genitals. He
sat up shaking his head as he cleaned himself up and removed his sperm
stained shirt tossing it on the chair, his right hand still toyed with his
limp sticky tossle then dreamily he raised his hand to his mouth as he
licked the thick creamy goo from his fingers and palm. Smiling he rolled
the tangy cum in his mouth relishing the tart bitter sweetness then he
swallowed and stood up to get a clean shirt from his drawers.

Bryce meanwhile was with Charles in the cabin, both men lay 69ing on the
bunk as they sucked each other off while caressing each other and fingering
their hot holes. They brought one another off drinking the sweet product of
their throbbing nuts then lay back recovering, Charles after regaining his
composure began relating the short episode with the young gunnery
officer. Bryce listened avidly as he fiddled with both their soft tools, he
now knew he could seduce the sexy young officer without too much hastle.


                                       To be continued.


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