My Voyage

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Lesbian love and kismet.
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Balmain Times

Tuesday 24

The Navy Board confirmed today that the Captain of the HMS Westralia, lost to fire in April while on a routine supply voyage, has been exonerated by a navel court of enquiry. The enquiry heard how an engine room explosion and fire, claimed the lives of six crew. The Captain...

The boiler-suited figure stumbled towards the companionway. Wreaths of black smoke clutched at the figure as the sound of fire below decks roared like a hungry beast. An explosive shudder convulsed the ship, punching the figure to the blistering metal deck. Short blond hair flared like a match. One hand gripped a gold pendant with claw-like strength. The passageway bucked and heaved, the walls contorting as concussive forces tore at the bulkheads.

Dear Danny,

Dear God! What have I done? You were right, I was wrong. Perhaps the Navy is not for me. Dad said that it would be tough, but I wasn't expecting this! I have to tell you that I spent a good part of the first few days crying in the john! My body is sore (exercise and marching) and my mind numb. And my hair, oh Danny, my hair has been cut to nothing. Old stubble head! I've seen better looking toilet brushes! God, I'm pathetic: snivelling and hiding in the john. The john, the Head! It's the only private place in a woman's navy. I miss you so much. I miss home, casual food, TV where you get to choose the channel, twice a day showers, shampoo, or at least enough hair to raise lather. And Danny boy, I miss you.

I'm sorry it's taken me a week to write, but at night, I'm so tired. My muscles are still mired in the mud and slush of basic field training. Yes, that's right; marching, mud and rain. I'm meant to be in the 'freckin' Navy! I feel bad, too, about the way I left. You know what I'm talking about, honey. It's not that I didn't want to but somehow it didn't seem like the right time. Doing it because I'm going away seemed the wrong reason. It wasn't special enough. I want you to know it's not you, it's me. You are dear, sweet, patient and I love you. We've known each other forever. Perhaps that's it. Sometimes I feel as though you could be the brother I never had. Don't frown, sweet man of mine, I'll make it up to you.

Love, Kate

Dear Danny,

Thank you for your letters. I know I'm neglecting you but there has been so much to learn. I feel great. Physically fit and my bum and thighs have retreated to girlhood! I've discovered an aptitude for computers and communications. Dad will be so pleased. The naval tradition lives on Capt! It may sound funny, Danny, and maybe you won't understand this, but I think I am getting some sense of who I am. Not small town me: being blond, wearing gingham, living next door to you, going to St Anselm's grade school, learning to swim in the river, or living with that great ball of emptiness after Mum died. Here I have a real purpose, a job which is more than being just a female; it's about achieving things that matter, tomorrow and into the future. I have a place here. It may not be pretty as my friend Paula would say, but it matters. My first leave pass beckons and I'm so looking forward to seeing you.

Your loving friend,

Kate

Dear Diary,

I would never have thought it possible, but I'm glad to be back. Home was fine; it was good to see Dad again and the old home town, looking exactly the same. I guess I knew it was over with Danny, even before I went away. It hurts, but not crisis stuff and it gets lighter every day. Got to go, Paula's back. Three bells and all's well.

Dear Diary,

Two and a half days with my head in the Head! My first deep water experience. The irony is just fucking great. Join the navy and find out I don't have sea legs. Paula was sweet to help. Paula and I are messing together on board as well as on the dockside.

Dear Diary,

I made it! I'm a sailor. I'm in! Assigned to a desk job, but one I like and I'm, god damn it, IN! Dad, your daughter's made it. The tradition lives on, Pa. As expected, Paula's been fast-tracked for promotion, including a sea job. I'll miss her. Funny, the thought of not messing with her is a real downer. I didn't realise how much I rely on her, how much I miss her.

Dearest Paula,

Thank you for the scrumptious letters, my sweet, sweet, special Paula. Yes, of course I miss you, truly madly wildly miss you. What do I miss about you? Well, not your mess in the bathroom! I miss the way we sat and shared our thoughts and feelings about what had happened during the day. The way you would look intently at me, those brown eyes of yours patient and kind as I unloaded the frustrations of my day. I miss the hugs and tenderness, the way you made me feel as though I was the most important thing in your life. I miss the physicality of your presence. You made me feel secure. I guess I felt more complete, more whole. Enough or I'll start blushing.

I've finished with David, or rather, he's finished with me. Funny, but I felt guilty about it. I think if I am honest (and with you, my dearest one, I can be honest) it is because I feel as though I used him. I tried to make something happen, hoping to feel something, but even physically my body seemed to be in standby mode. It was never going to work.

And yes, sir, there are plenty of eager sailors attempting a boarding! No shortage of guys hitting on me, but boy, what sort of jocks! Being blonde doesn't help, even in the Navy. Typical effort from Bo'sun yesterday, "Did ya hear about the blonde who thought Ireland's Air Lingus was a sexual act?" Jerk city, the Navy!

Lots of love, Katie

Dear Diary,

I look forward so much to Paula's letter each week. I'm crazy I miss her so much. Not just the company, but her laugh, sharing, help, and comforting support, like now, when I'm feeling a bit down. I miss her smell, her untidiness, and her knickers hanging in the bathroom. I remember how she looked dripping water after a shower, sleek as a seal. It's crazy, crazy. Thinking like this makes the loneliness worse. I remember how black her hair was and how, when it was wet, it shone blackness. She had no inhibitions about nudity. I guess she must have found my attempts at privacy amusing. I wish she was here now to put her arms around me and whisper that she wants me.

My darling Paula,

It seems impossible that so much time has passed. I'm standing still, immobile while life rushes past. What has happened? I'm vegetating in this posting, going nowhere fast. Join the Navy and see the same thing day in and day out.

Poor Dad dying. It was lonely at the burial. A lot of the town showed up, but it was as though I didn't belong and had never been part of the community. Danny was there with his wife and children, but it was a different Danny. He looked almost embarrassed to greet me. I'm on my own now, and I need you. My two miserable attempts at relationships sunk at sea, all hands lost. D for Danny, D for Dave, and D for me. What is wrong with me? Fuck, but I miss you Paula. Please write and tell me you want me and need me.

Love and kisses, your Katie

Dear Diary,

Sweet, sweet Paula. A letter. She is coming to visit. Two weeks. I'll have to remember to salute and call her Mam, Cap't Mam.

.......................................................

The restaurant was located on the top floor of an office block with views across the port city. From street level, Kate fancied it looked like the bridge of a ship, floating above the darkened expanse of the floors below, voyaging into the night.

"It's lovely Paula. I just love it." Kate caressed the gold pendant that Paula had fastened around her neck.

"Do you want dessert?"

"I shouldn't. What the hell, who's looking at the Plimsoll line?"

Kate leant across the table and took Paula's hand.

"It's so good to see you. You've no idea how much I've missed you."

Paula squeezed Kate's hand.

"I'm glad you feel this way. Actually, there's something I want to ask you."

"Ask away."

"More a proposition than a question, really."

"What do you mean, Cap't? You sound so serious," said Kate, deepening her voice and offering a mock salute.

"Well, I guess it is serious. I mean, something that you need to think about."

"What. What! I'm a little tipsy and listing to starboard, Cap't, but fire away."

Paula reached across the table and took Kate's hand. "I've been given a command. Nothing too big, just a supply vessel."

"Oh, my god! Why didn't you tell me! Oh congratulations!"

"I didn't want to spoil the fun talking shop."

"Oh Paula."

"But the thing is, I want you with me. I can organise it, get you a transfer to my command, I mean."

"Oh Paula. I mean, Jesus, a night of surprises. You know I'm hopeless at sea. "

"I know, I know. Never an active posting is what you said. It's OK, I understand. It's only a supply ship, but I understand. It's just that I miss you and...our paths don't often cross. "

"Oh god.... Paula, I want to but,...oh hell. Look, can I go pee? I'll be right back."

Kate returned to find Paula staring thoughtfully at the spangled banner of the city night-scape.

"Well, it's a radical change you're asking, Cap't, but God knows I'm not going anywhere fast stuck behind a desk. I would love to be with you, to see you each day, hear your voice, and know that you are nearby."

"Paula. I'm a bit squiffy. No more wine, thank you. Hell, I don't know.... It's radical, major; it's like asking me to vote Republican or change my sexual preference or something!"

It was Paula's turn to lean across and take Kate's hand. "Actually, yes, it's that, too. I love you, Katie, and I want to be with you. I want to make love to you and share with you."

.....................................................

Later, Paula and Kate stood hand in hand, looking into each other's eyes. Kate lowered hers. "I've thought about it. I mean, I feel deeply for you, and I...I guess I'm scared a bit"

"It's OK, darling. Take it slowly. Put your arms around me. It's a voyage, honey, a voyage of discovery, a voyage of feelings. If it doesn't feel OK, tell me, sweet one, OK?" Right now it feels so right being here with you and holding you." Paula pulled Kate more closely into her arms, lightly kissing her neck. Kate closed her eyes, concentrating on the soft brush of Paula's lips and the feel of her body.

It was me, Kate thought, but it was a different me. These breasts, lips, cunt, legs, these are a new me. This is me. I sung. I vibrated. This is me, body contorted, moaning, crying sounds that have echoed for all time. I was unmade, weeping wetness, but burning and searing with joy. Then, I was made whole: body warm and languid in Paula's arms, in a place that is timeless.

Dear diary,

When Paula held herself above me, opening her sex with fingers slippery with my wetness, I wanted only to please this wonderful other body. I plunged my tongue eagerly into her, loving that my mouth could pleasure her, my thrusting tongue commanding her body.

When her thighs clamped my face, her body wracked with her cumming, my joy of giving was complete.

Dear diary,

My love and I set sail. We are together. A short tour of duty for the ship, but for me, for my love my captain, an eternal voyage.

Not all smooth sailing, however, some problems with the cargo of fuel and we are to put about and return to port. When,...hell, that's the fire siren for all hands....

The end.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

A wonderful story of two women finding true love in each others arms..... so why is the story called 'Lesbian Love and Kismet'? Are you trying to sat that the two characters actually DESERVED their horrific fiery death just because they're gay? one star and fuck your repugnant homophobia.

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