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"That's all I ask."

The visit aboard the Breckinridge was eye-opening and again my story was picked up by papers across the country. As we sailed back to port, I interviewed the Admiral in his quarters. "Miss Pellegrino, I have a few days leave. My friend, General Porter confided in me that you might be amenable to joining me at a quiet, discreet hotel on the beach near Jacksonville."

I blushed. I was quite sure that General Porter had been very specific about our time together. Unlike when Matteo shared similar information with Mr. Albright, I wasn't pissed. I was learning.

"Admiral, I'm due for a few days off myself. A beach vacation sounds very relaxing." I was certain that I wouldn't be doing too much relaxing with the fifty-seven-year-old Admiral even if I was on my back.

Admiral Albert Scrivner and I arrived at the hotel separately for discretionary purposes. I arrived first, and took a bath. I had no illusions of what was going to happen. I didn't know if Admiral Scrivner was a pussy eater, but I certainly didn't want anything to deter him.

I was just getting out of the tub when he arrived. I'd left the bathroom door open. "Wow, General Porter said you were gorgeous, but he didn't say this gorgeous."

I blushed, and tried to cover up with the towel. Admiral Scrivner took me his arms. "You're going to get all wet," I laughed.

"I'm a sailor, I'm used to it," he laughed with me.

When I say he took me in his arms, I should tell you that the Admiral was at least 6'7" tall, and weighed over 250 lb.

I grinded against him; he grinded against me. The towel ended up on the floor as our lips met. I looked him in the eye, "Admiral, what exactly did General Porter tell you about me?"

He was feeling up my tits, "are you sure you want to know? It might embarrass you."

"I'm standing here naked in front of you, an almost stranger, what could be more embarrassing?"

"He told me that in my whole life I will never find a girl with a sweeter ummmmm . . . "

"Were you going to say pussy? I may be a lady, but I've heard that word before."

"Well, yes. The General did say pussy."

"And you brought me here to find out for yourself?"

Now, it was the Admiral who was blushing. "Well . . ."

I broke our embrace. "Admiral, I'll be waiting in bed. You should get out of those clothes."

I wasn't really in bed; I was on top of the bed with my legs spread. As he undressed, Admiral Scrivner had a good look at my big dark bush. I mean, I knew what he wanted, and he was staring.

"Holly, you are beautiful." I liked it, but he didn't have to sweet talk me.

"Thank you, Admiral. I'd love you to show my pussy just how beautiful you think I am." I spread my legs wider.

Admiral Scrivner was not your typical officer. He was what was called a mustang. That is, he joined the Navy out of high school, and it was almost six years later while war raged in Europe that he was chosen for officer training.

While a common seaman, he traveled the world and in every port older, more experienced seamen played a practical joke on him. "Al, there's a few whorehouses here where the girls will do anything if you ask them if you can eat their pussies."

When he joined the Navy, he was a virgin and naïve as naïve can be. "Really?"

"Yep, they'll thank you for it, and you'll love it. I'll take you to one where one of my favorite girls works and she'll take good care of you," 15-year veteran, Sam Grabner, told him. "But, Al, it's not something she offers, you've got to ask for it."

In every port from Hong Kong to Bangkok to Cairo and Naples, Sam led the young seaman to houses where he went in first, gave one of the girls a heads up, and Al Scrivner followed. The girl was skeptical, but willingly spread her legs and instructed the young boy on how to eat her pussy.

In Naples, he had a three-day pass. He spent all his pay on Bella, a thirty-five-year-old prostitute who honed his skill. Of course, she fucked him and blew him, but Al was fascinated with her pussy. To be clear, the taste of her pussy.

When General Porter mentioned Holly Pellegrino, the Admiral's thought turned to the time he'd spent with Bella and her juicy Italian pussy. Perhaps, this girl, me, with my Italian heritage, would be as sweet as Bella and as sweet General Porter claimed.

The young seaman, Al Scrivner, considered going AWOL, but Bella was smart enough to talk him out of it and told him the truth about pussy eating and prostitutes.

Back aboard ship, he beat the shit out of Sam Grabner, but the skills those girls taught him served him well as he climbed the officers' ranks.

While stationed in Washington, his immense size made wives and daughters of members of Congress, and other girls working in government wonder if he was proportionally big. He wasn't but they swooned when his tongue did them.

It didn't take long for rumors and gossip to spread which led to surprisingly quick promotions.

I didn't know any of this when the Admiral invited me to spend the weekend with him.

Now, to be fair, his tongue work was marvelous, but not like Mr. Albright. The difference was that Jonathan Albright could only eat pussy; not that I'm complaining. On the other hand, the Admiral was a great fuck, and I rarely had sucked a cock I enjoyed as much. He wasn't in the submarine service, but his periscope was always standing tall, and just as hard, if you know what I mean, and back then there was nothing like Viagra.

Fucking and sucking were great, but Al Scrivner like other men could not get enough of my pussy. The more he ate, the more I was convinced that it was the taste of my special, exquisite, elite pussy.

By now, I knew that men liked it when I begged for their cock when they were eating me.

It wasn't anything planned, it kinda' just happened. "Admiral, this bed is very comfortable, but I think I'd like to sit in that chair by the window, looking out at the ocean."

‘You mean while I continue?"

"You do want to continue, don't you?"

"Miss Pellegrino, I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing," he smiled.

I got out of bed, positioned the chair so I could look out at the ocean, spread my legs over the arms and without hesitation, the Admiral was on his knees. I couldn't help but notice that his cock was like that periscope. No, it wasn't proportional but I was looking forward to it fucking me, and sucking it again, but only after his tongue got me going.

"Now, where were we?" I joked.

"I was busy enjoying the sweetest, tastiest, most delicious pussy ever." He rubbed his face in my big bush and his tongue started just as it had when we were on the bed. I liked the dominant feeling, and although I'd never heard the term, I thought to myself, ‘me, twenty-three-year-old Holly Pellegrino has an Admiral in the United States Navy servicing her pussy while on his knees.' Could there be anything better?

Yes, there could. Admiral Scrivner knew just how to massage my clitoris and I was in the throes of an orgasm in a few minutes. Then another and another.

While I came down from an incredible high (I didn't call it that back then), he licked my slit slowly up and down. "Admiral, tell me again about the taste of my pussy."

To my delight, he didn't want his tongue to leave my pussy. He mumbled, "delectable, scrumptious, yummy. Please, Miss Pellegrino, let me eat it some more."

See what I mean about begging. I might have had another orgasm right then.

I giggled and pushed his face back into my bush, wrapping my legs around his head. Did you hear that, a fifty-seven-year-old Admiral was begging; you might even say, pleading to eat my pussy. "Well, if you insist."

Twenty minutes later, it was me begging and pleading. "Admiral, take me to bed, my pussy needs your cock, please."

He took me to bed, but didn't fuck me. I wanted his cock; I'd begged for it, but when we got in bed, I didn't hesitate to go down on him. I just couldn't wait. "Hmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmm."

Make no mistake about it, I was thanking him for what he did to my pussy. What did he call it? My delectable, scrumptious, yummy pussy.

It was one of my best blowjobs. Don't get me wrong, I have no illusions that I'm a great cocksucker, and the men I'd been with like Professor Mann and Matteo Marino seemed to prefer eating me to getting a blowjob.

Later that evening, Admiral Scrivner ate me again while I sat in that chair. This time, I dragged him to the bed, and got on my back. "Give me your cock, Admiral. You have my pussy so ready."

Looking back all these years, if that hotel still exists and that chair still exits, I'm certain, you'll find my ass print on the seat. There might even still be a stain from the Admiral's saliva and my pussy juice.

Until the launch of the first US space rocket, Admiral Scrivner and I spent as much time together as our work allowed. To my delight he insisted on eating my pussy, and eating my pussy and eating my pussy, mumbling words like scrumptious and delicious as his tongue licked away at my young, tasty pussy.

Everything changed after Project Mercury was successful.

TO BE CONTINUED

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