0 comments/ 40310 views/ 6 favorites The Wild Blue Yonder By: Moonraker_Bond007 TO THE READER: this story includes several characters from the series of Jason Garrett stories; however, this story is not part of that series. Furthermore, with the exception of Hugh Hefner and Larry Flynt, all characters and occurrences in this story are entirely fictional. This story is not designed to be a true portrayal of military policy; however, the author has tried to make this story as true to the military as possible. In December of 2008, Hugh Hefner, publisher of Playboy, approached the Secretary of Defense with a proposal. Hefner wanted to do a Playboy featuring the Women of the Military. However, he knew that were military women to appear nude in Playboy during their enlistment period, it could jeopardize their standing within the Armed Forces. For all his foibles, Hefner has always been known as a man who would go out of his way to make sure that his Playboy models were well taken care of and that nothing he did would be harmful to their careers. After a great deal of negotiating with the Defense Department and the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Hefner got the go-ahead to do his issue, provided that none of the women were dressed in actual military uniforms at any point during the shoot, and that no military equipment was visible in any of the pictures. Eager to do his issue, Hefner readily agreed. In February 2009, Sergeant Amy Carson, US Army, Gunnery Sergeant Michelle Kingsley, US Marine Corps, Tech Sergeant Kat Warbington, US Air Force, Petty Officer Nicole McKenna, US Navy, and Petty Officer Rachel Marxen, US Coast Guard, all appeared in Hugh Hefner's "Women in Uniform" issue. It was the best selling issue of Playboy of all time, and provided unprecedented publicity for the United States Armed Forces. Recruiters nationwide reported a 56% increase in 18-25 year old male walk-ins between February and May of 2009. By the end of June 2009, the US Armed Forces stood at a place where they could've easily handled two major regional conflicts simultaneously – almost entirely thanks to Hugh Hefner publishing twenty-five pages of tastefully done nude photographs of women in the military. My name is Tech Sergeant Austin Garrett, US Air Force. I've known Kat Warbington my entire life. We grew up together in Pasadena, with our birthdays within a week of each other (that sometimes proved to be a bitch, because my brother's birthday was only eight days after mine). The Monday after Kat turned 18, we both went to the Air Force recruiting office and enlisted. We would ship out for Basic Training at Fort Dyess in Texas three weeks after we graduated from high school in May 2005. After Basic, we both got assigned to Beale Air Force Base in Sacramento. It was entirely coincidence that we were assigned to the same place, but it proved to be a blessing, being only four hundred miles from both of our families in Pasadena and a mere two hundred miles from my brother at Fresno State University. So it was in March of 2009 that we were both nearing the end of our initial enlistment contracts. Despite the United States' continued presence in Iraq, the President had decided that nobody would be held past the end of their contracts. One day, Kat and I were both called to the commanding officer's office. Brigadier General Mae Durban was the first female commander of Beale AFB. She was also one of very few general officers who was a registered Democrat, something that had not endeared her to the higher ranks. Between the fact that she was a female and the fact that she was a liberal Democrat, she would probably retire as a one-star general. She was also one of the few general officers who hadn't frowned on the February Playboy, instead choosing to promote Beale AFB as the "home of Kat Warbington, USAF representative to Playboy Magazine." Once again, this didn't exactly endear her to the higher ranks, but with retirement in sight, she had nothing to lose. I was somewhat nervous about this meeting, as it is most unusual for E-6 Tech Sergeants to be called to the commanding officer's office, for any reason – good or bad. When we entered the general's office, there were two chairs set up in front of her desk, with drinks in front of them – Vanilla Coke (Kat's favorite drink) in front of one chair, and chocolate milk (my favorite drink and my only remaining childhood vice) in front of the other. "Please, come in and sit down," said General Durban. "And yes, I did find out what your favorite drinks are, because I like to treat my airmen with the respect they deserve." With ever-growing apprehension, I took a seat. Kat followed suit. "So," continued General Durban, "I'm sure you're probably puzzled and a little nervous as to why you've been summoned to my office." "Yes, ma'am," Kat and I replied simultaneously. "Please," she said with a chuckle, "it's Mae. My mother is ma'am." "Yes, ma'am." The general laughed. "Ah, the respect beaten into every soldier, sailor, airman, and marine in the United States military. Despite its downsides, still definitely a good thing." Then, she got more serious. "Let's get down to business," she said. "Here's why you're here. Sergeant Garrett, Sergeant Warbington, both of your contracts are up at the end of May. However, I believe both of you to be officer material. As such, I personally submitted both of your names for Officer Candidate School." We both perked up at this. I remembered that we had both applied for it back in December of 2008, but to think that General Durban had reviewed both of our files and personally submitted us? That was unheard of! "Sergeant Garrett," she continued, "I received this letter yesterday." She handed me a letter, which I opened. I scanned through it, and then looked up. "I got in!" "Yes," replied the general. "Congratulations are definitely in order!" Then she grew even more solemn. "Kat – may I call you Kat?" she asked. Kat nodded. Of course she wasn't going to say, "No," to a one-star general. "Kat," said General Durban, "I believe that you are one of the best NCOs on this base, if not THE best. You have proven yourself time and time again in leadership situations, and you have shown the courage and the foresight to go outside the box if you feel it will be good for the United States Air Force. "Unfortunately, in going outside of the box, you have made many enemies in the higher ranks. There was one specific incident that really pissed a lot of people off." With that, General Durban reached under her desk and pulled out a copy of the February Playboy. Kat was on the front, dressed only in a desert-pattern camouflage bikini. She had been chosen for the cover, because of the five women in the photo spread, she was by far the most attractive. "Now, in my opinion, you're getting the shaft, royally," said General Durban, disgust creeping into her voice. "Even after two hundred and thirty years, this is apparently still 'this man's military'. Even after Tailhook, men can do pretty much anything they damn well please and get away with it. They can brag about how many women they've been with. They can drop trou and walk down Black's Beach butt naked, get arrested by the San Diego Police, and come out smelling like a rose because they're a Goddamn Admiral. But God forbid a woman in the US military do something that's even the slightest bit sexually independent, because they'll be crucified for it." I looked over at Kat, and at this last statement, she went pale. Her lower lip began trembling, so she bit into it, but that didn't stop the tear that was forming in the corner of her eye. "Kat, I'm sorry," said General Durban, "but May 31st is the end of the road for you as far as the US Air Force goes. You've been rejected for OCS, and you're not even going to be allowed to re-enlist. However, you will receive an honorable discharge. There were even those ultra-conservatives in the general ranks who wanted you to receive a bad conduct discharge and be court-martialed, but I cajoled, finagled, pulled in every favor I had, and generally threatened to bring down the majority of the US general officer corps in a massive scandal if they tried to do that to my best NCO. I did my best; unfortunately, all I could get you was the honorable discharge." Kat couldn't speak for a moment. Then, she composed herself. "Thank you," she whispered. "I know you would've done anything that you could've." With that, she got up and left the general's office. I looked after her for a moment, then turned back to General Durban. "You have GOT to be shitting me – ma'am," I said. "This was a project APPROVED by the Secretary of Defense, it's caused a huge surge in enlistment, and she's being screwed over like this?" "Sad but true," she replied, not even betraying a hint of anger over the fact that an NCO had just said "shit" in front of her. "Maybe it's something you can work to change." "Right," I replied. "I work on engines in Goddamn F-22's. What the hell can I do?" "You're going to OCS, remember?" she replied. "With your intelligence and knowledge, I wouldn't be surprised if you have your first star by the time you're 45. When you get there, you just need to bust your ass to make change and cause reform within the United States military." With that knowledge in mind, I left General Durban's office, generally disgusted at the commanders of the United States military. And so it was that on June 1st, 2009, Kat received her official discharge papers from the United States Air Force, whereas I headed to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, for Officer Candidate School. In August, I graduated from OCS. I couldn't believe how many of my friends and family came to see me be commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant – even Kat came, dressed in her Class A dress Air Force uniform. Even though she had been discharged, she would continue to be considered part of the Inactive Reserve until she was 40. Kat approached me and mustered a smile. "Congratulations," she said. "I'm very happy for you." Looking at her face, though, I could see she was anything but. "Kat..." I started. As I did so, tears started welling up in her eyes. To hell with fraternization rules, I thought. I wrapped my arms around Kat in a giant hug and just let her cry out all her frustration. Later that night, after every one had left, I sat alone in my bachelor enlisted quarters at Ft. Sill, thinking about everything Kat had been through as a result of her exercising her first amendment rights. What the military had done to her just wasn't fair. General Durban was right – despite the fact that it was the twenty-first century, it was still very much a man's military, and enough was enough. I, Lieutenant Austin Garrett, was going to do everything I could to put things right. I got my orders the following Monday – I was to report back to Beale Air Force Base, where I would be assistant to General Durban until her retirement the following March. At that point, I would be reassigned wherever the Air Force saw fit to send me. Well, it turns out that General Mae Durban recognized that I was the type of "revolutionary" that the United States Armed Forces needed if it was going to be reformed. My primary assignment was gathering material that she would be able to use in an attempt to change the attitude of the military toward women and to use that material and everything she already had to begin building a case. About two weeks into the job, I was looking through the papers she already had in a file, and I came across a few that disturbed me greatly. CARSON, SERGEANT AMY, USA – COURT MARTIAL 1 JUNE 2009; BAD CONDUCT DISCHARGE AND DEMOTION TO CORPORAL, 5 JUNE 2009 KINGSLEY, GUNNERY SERGEANT MICHELLE, USMC – COURT MARTIAL 2 JUNE 2009; BAD CONDUCT DISCHARGE AND DEMOTION TO SERGEANT, 5 JUNE 2009 MCKENNA, PETTY OFFICER NICOLE, USN – COURT MARTIAL 3 JUNE 2009; BAD CONDUCT DISCHARGE AND DEMOTION TO SPECIALIST, 5 JUNE 2009 MARXEN, PETTY OFFICER RACHEL, USCG – COURT MARTIAL 4 JUNE 2009; BAD CONDUCT DISCHARGE AND DEMOTION TO MACHINIST'S MATE, 5 JUNE 2009 WHAT THE FUCK?! The United States Armed Forces had rid itself of all five of the Playboy women in one week in June? I was positive that the only reason that Kat hadn't received a "Big Chicken Dinner" – Bad Conduct Discharge – like these four was that General Durban had fought tooth and nail for her. I left my office that day disgusted. When I arrived back at my bachelor officer's quarters (BOQ), my answering machine was blinking. "Austin, this is Kat." She sounded happier than I had heard in quite some time. "Give me a call!" So I called Kat. We must have talked for an hour, but when I hung up the phone, I was laughing my ass off. Apparently, Hugh Hefner's military Playboy had sparked the creative juices of several people – chief among them the original Sultan of Smut, Hustler publisher Larry Flynt. Flynt wanted to go to the next level – he wanted to do a XXX-rated picture spread of military women. Unfortunately for him, that would have been strictly against military policy. So, he decided to look among inactives and apparently went for the Playboy women first. What he wanted was for somebody who was recognizable as having been in the military to do his spread for him. The costuming involved would be, like the first time, pseudo-military slut clothing. He would then do a large number of solo photos, considerably more graphic than the Playboy photos. He would follow that up with a number of simulated partner-sex shots with a male porn star. However, though it would appear that Tech Sergeant Kat Warbington (USAF, Ret.) was getting her brains fucked out by a Hollywood porn star, simulated sex meant that there would be no penetration by genitals or fingers and that there would be no oral-genital contact. Kat, still seething mad at the military and looking for any chance she could take to get back at them, had agreed on the spot. Kat had called me for two reasons. First of all, she wanted to tell me. Secondly, the shoot was going to be in Palm Desert. Now, it would require getting there at 6:00 AM, spending all day under the bright, hot September sun, and getting done after 8:00 PM. She didn't think she would be able to handle the exhaustion, especially driving back afterwards, so she wanted to know if I could take the weekend of September 25th-27th off and go out to Palm Desert with her. I agreed in a heartbeat. First of all, it meant that I would get out of General Durban's office for a weekend. Yes, I enjoyed the perks of being an officer, but I would've much rather been out on the flightline, loading AMRAAM missiles on F-22s. Secondly – I would get to see Kat completely naked! Yeah, I had the issue of Playboy – what red blooded American male didn't? – but I would actually get to see my lifetime friend naked, in person! So on Friday the 25th, I drove down to the San Fernando Valley. I stayed with my brother Jason and his wife Erin at their house in Sherman Oaks (my brother's a pastor, but in southern California, even the pastors are paid well!). On Saturday, I made sure not to wear anything remotely military, choosing instead to wear a pair of jeans and one of my brother's old Fresno State t-shirts. I left Sherman Oaks at about 3:00 AM, getting to Kat's apartment in Pasadena at 4:00 AM. We jumped on I-210 and headed east. As we drove out to Palm Desert, we started talking about different things – the military, high school, childhood. Then, we got to talking about sex. "When did you lose your virginity, Austin?" Kat asked. "Let's see..." I replied, thinking. "After senior prom. You remember Kacey McLaren, my date?" "WHAT?!" she replied, seemingly shocked. "You... you..." "Yeah, yeah, I know, I lost my virginity to Kacey McLaren, the high school bicycle. 'Ring, ring, everyone's had a ride!' She had changed her life at that point. She was different." "No, no," she said, laughing. "I figured you had lost your virginity when you were like 14 or something. Damn, I never would've guessed you almost graduated a virgin." "Yeah, yeah, whatever," I said, starting to blush. "What can I say, my brother had given me the American Pie trilogy for Christmas that year and I decided I was getting laid before I graduated. Your turn." "I just can't believe that," Kat continued, still laughing. "ALRIGHT ALREADY," I snapped. "Enough about me, it's your turn, dammit!" "Sorry," Kat replied, trying to choke off a laugh. She took a couple moments to calm down, then started. "I can still remember the day I lost my virginity," she said. "November 20th, 2004. Two days after my 18th birthday." "Aw, hell no," I said. "You beat me to it. By five months!" "And you'll never believe who I lost it to," she said with a giggle. "I can believe a lot," I replied acidly. "Who was it?" "Your brother." I almost ran my Explorer right off the road. Turning to look at her, all I could say was, "No fucking way." "Yep," she said. "I drove up to Fresno and gave him my virginity. I told him that I had been dreaming about losing my virginity to him since I was 14, and that it was my birthday present to myself." "Ho-ly shit," I replied. "This I am going to HAVE to ask him about." "Well, do that if you want," she said. "Just make sure Erin isn't around when you do it, because that was – quite literally – the day before they started dating." "Ho-ly shit." We got to the area outside of Palm Desert that had been designated just before 6:00 AM. I parked my rather modest (in comparison) Explorer between two Lexuses – one a limo. As we got out, we heard an electric whir behind us. We turned to see the ultimate Purveyor of Porn, Larry Flynt himself, rolling up behind us. "Good morning," he said in a surprisingly nasal voice. "Glad you could make it, Miss Warbington." Sticking his hand out to me, he introduced himself. "Larry Flynt." "Lieutenant Austin Garrett, US Air Force," I replied. Immediately, a look of concern crossed Flynt's face. I moved quickly to reassure him. "Don't worry," I said. "I'm not here as a snitch for the military. Kat and I have known each other since we were both little kids. I'm just here as a friend." Flynt looked instantly relieved. "Had me scared for a moment there," he chuckled. "I thought that maybe this was some sort of military sting and you were going to try to take away my Constitutional rights for good." Oh please, I thought. You've probably got more money than the entire US military. As long as you're alive, Hustler will never get shut down. Kat was escorted off to a trailer to get ready. I was told that the photo shoot would begin around 8:00 AM. Since I was rather tired, I climbed back in my Explorer, laid the back seat down, and fell asleep. I woke up around 7:30 to the sound of a semi pulling in. I woke up, rubbed my eyes, and looked out my window. I couldn't believe what I saw. A semi was pulling in with a rather unique load – an old, retired B-58 supersonic bomber. The B-58's nickname had been "Hustler", so it was appropriate that they would pick this aircraft to use as a backdrop. It had been painted entirely black, with the Hustler logo painted in silver on the tail. Its wings were folded to accommodate freeway travel, and its wheel struts appeared to have been shortened so that the wings would only be about three feet off the ground. I got out of the Explorer and watched as the Hustler crew unchocked the B-58's wheels and gently and slowly rolled it off of the truck bed onto the ground. However, when they tried to unfold the wings, they were completely unsuccessful. After watching them struggle for a few minutes, I took pity. Jogging over, I said, "I can give you a hand with that. I used to be an Air Force mechanic." The Wild Blue Yonder Crawling under the fuselage, I found the manual hydraulic release system. After pumping it a few times, I crawled out, released the catches on the wings, and watched as they gracefully and slowly folded down into flight position. When they were completely deployed, I engaged the flight locks on top of both wings, and then clambered down to a round of applause from the Hustler crew. I took a few mock bows, and then stopped when I heard a voice say, "Don't encourage him, his head's big enough the way it is." I looked up – and there was Kat. She was dressed in a pair of standard-issue combat boots, a pair of extremely short forest-camouflage pattern skintight shorts that barely covered her ass, and a t-shirt that looked similar like the standard gray Army physical fitness t-shirt – except that this one was extremely tight, was cut in the baby-t design, and said "HUSTLER" in big black capital letters across the chest. With Kat's 36C bust, the "HUSTLER" stuck out quite a bit. As I continued to stare at her, I felt my cock begin to grow. Oh shit, I thought. Damn good thing I wore baggy jeans. Of course, my cock only stayed incognito right up until the time Kat came up and hugged me. As she pressed her tits into my chest, my cock continued to grow, pressing against her leg. "Oh my, Austin," she laughed, "have you seen something you liked?" "Oh shut up," I replied with a laugh. "Just get up there and show the Air Force you're not going to take their shit." Then a guy who was a couple inches shorter than me came out of the trailer next to Kat's, sporting forest-camo pants, one of the "HUSTLER" physical fitness t-shirts, and a Marine Corps regulation crew cut. Larry Flynt rolled down the ramp behind him. The two of them walked over to us (well, Flynt rolled), and Flynt introduced us. "Kat Warbington, this is Jonathon Longfellow, one of Vivid's newest stars," Flynt said. "Jonathon, Kat Warbington, retired Air Force, and her friend, Lieutenant Austin Garrett, US Air Force." "Pleased to meet you," said Jonathon in a very mellow voice, reaching out to shake both our hands. "Lieutenant, thank you for everything you do for your country." Hmmm. This Longfellow fellow seemed like a fairly nice guy, and he was respectful of what the military did for him. Okay, I thought I'd be quite fine with him pretending to have sex with one of my best friends. At that point, Flynt called for silence. He announced that he'd be directing the photo shoot personally – something unprecedented. Apparently, he wanted to personally one-up Hefner on this one. At 8:15 AM, the shoot got started. It started with Kat by herself, still clothed. The first few shots were of her sitting on the edge of the wing of the B-58. After that, they had her recline on the wing, with one leg up and bent at the knee. They did a few shots, alternating between her left and right legs. The final shots they did with her fully clothed were of her on her hands and knees, facing away from the camera, and looking back over her shoulder. After that, she was instructed to remove her t-shirt. She did this, revealing a blue, white, and black winter-camouflage pattern string bikini top underneath. She was then instructed to pull her shorts up as far as she could and roll them waistband down to her pubic line. When she did this, a good third of her ass cheeks were revealed. Once again, I thanked God I was wearing baggy jeans, because if I had been wearing anything tighter – like my class B uniform or my flight suit – it would've been painfully obvious that I was sporting a raging boner! After a few shots of just her dressed like this, Jonathon was instructed to enter the shoot. After a few "intro" shots, he was instructed to kiss Kat. Flynt had them do a few shots kissing, and then he instructed Kat to remove her shorts. When Kat removed her shorts, she revealed a very skimpy thong that matched her top. Call Flynt a smut master, but at least he pays attention to detail and does his best to make costumes fit in. After a few more shots of Jonathon and Kat kissing with Jonathon holding Kat's shorts in his left hand, Jonathon was instructed to remove his shirt. Kat then moved to kissing his chest for a few shots, followed by a few shots of Jonathon fondling Kat's breasts. Kat was then instructed to remove her bikini top. As she did so, her 36C breasts spilled out. And damn, what breasts they were. I mean, yeah, I'd seen them in Playboy, but they were just all the more incredible in person. They appeared to be almost identical, and were just as tan as the rest of her body, which meant she'd been doing a bit of nude tanning since the Air Force gave her her walking papers. For the first few shots of the next set, Flynt had Jonathon move behind Kat and cover her breasts with his hands. Apparently, he didn't want his "readers" getting TOO excited just yet. He then had Kat turn her head and look up at Jonathon. After a few shots like this, he had Jonathon reveal Kat's breasts. Jonathon was instructed to squeeze her left breast with his left hand and place his right hand inside her bikini bottom. As he slid his hand inside Kat's bikini bottom, she flushed a bit and let out a bigger than normal breath. Either she was nervous or Jonathon had brushed against something that, shall we say, stimulated her. After a few more shots in this setting, Kat was instructed to turn to face Jonathon. She appeared a bit disappointed as he withdrew his hand from her bikini bottoms, confirming what I had thought! When she was facing him, he was instructed to kiss and fondle her breasts for a few shots. He did this with all the expertise and professionalism of a porn star. He didn't hesitate for a moment, just diving right in. Once Flynt had a few shots like that on film, he instructed Jonathon to stand back up. Then, Kat was told to look up into his face, and place her right hand on the very obvious bulge in Jonathon's crotch. With these shots out of the way, Flynt told Jonathon to back up and remove his pants. As he did so, the cause of the crotch bulge came into view – Jonathon's cock, which stood about nine inches erect. Not the biggest I've ever seen on a porn star, but it was bigger than mine (although at seven inches erect, I'm bigger than about 75% of American males!). Kat's eyes seemed to widen a bit at the size of Jonathon's cock, which told me it was probably the biggest she's seen. That doesn't surprise me, since the cock she lost her virginity to (my brother's) is almost exactly the same size as mine (although the bastard is a little bigger around than me). Kat was told to take hold of Jonathon's cock, and make it look like she was giving him a handjob. Flynt took a few shots like that, and then told her to act like she was giving him a blowjob. This time, nine different cameras took close to a hundred shots – some from the front, with his cock positioned right in front of her mouth as if she was about to suck it in, some from behind her, some from behind him, with only part of her head visible, and some from just over the edge of the B-58's wing, catching only from her nose up, making it look as if she truly was giving him a blowjob. Once the blowjob shots were done, Kat was instructed to sit on the edge of the B-58's wing and lay back. Once she had done so, Jonathon was told to pull her thong aside, revealing her pussy, and start act as if he were licking her pussy. This time, only four cameras were involved – one was behind his head. There was a camera on either side of them, and when they were taking pictures, Kat was instructed to lift her legs up so that Jonathon's head would be hidden. The fourth camera was above and behind Kat, and it caught only from her waist up. For those pictures, she was instructed to close her eyes and pretend as if she were in ecstasy. When these shots were done, it was almost noon, so Flynt instructed everybody to take a break, because the afternoon would be spent doing all the simulated intercourse scenes. As Kat, Jonathon, and the photographers began wandering away from the plane toward the trailers, the crew hurried in to erect shade canopies over the wings of the Hustler. Some of the scenes would be shot with the models laying on their backs on the jet-black wings, and Flynt didn't want them getting burned. At 12:30, shooting started again. "For all the remaining scenes," said Flynt, "both of our models will be completely nude, with the exception of their combat boots. Kat, you've done a great job so far. In fact, I could do a pictorial with what I've got so far. If you don't feel comfortable doing the rest of it, just tell me right now. We'll pay you the agreed amount, and you can go, no hard feelings." "Oh, no," replied Kat. "I signed up for this, I'm going to finish it. The Air Force is going to see what happens when they try to screw somebody over." The first position they had Kat and Jonathon do was standard missionary. For the first shots, they had Kat cover her pussy with her hand so that there would be no accidental penetration, and then they had Jonathon rest his cock on the slit of her pussy. This was something that I'd not seen before – Kat's pussy was completely shaved! There was no stubble, no razor burn either – she'd REALLY taken her time on this. I could also see that she was extremely wet – no surprise, she'd basically been going through foreplay with Jonathon for a good two hours! After a few shots of Jonathon's cock resting on Kat's slit, the cameramen moved, taking pictures from behind, and then taking pictures from the side, with Kat's legs raised and wrapped around Jonathon's waist, hiding his cock so as to give the illusion that it was inside of her. After a few more shots like this, Jonathon was instructed to reposition his cock underneath Kat's ass so that they could get a few shots from her head that would still look like he was actually fucking her. Kat once again covered herself, and lifted her ass up. Jonathon slowly slid his cock in under her ass. As he did so though, Kat gasped, "OH my God!" and jumped. "What? WHAT?!" shouted Flynt. "Did he penetrate?" "No, no," it's okay, Kat replied. "The head just grazed my asshole, that's all." "Alright," replied Flynt. "Keep going." As I looked over at Flynt, I noticed a table with a small SuperSoaker laying on it. Turning to one of the crew, I asked, "What's that?" Looking over and seeing the water gun, he replied, "Oh, that's the cum gun. We'll have Jonathon do a standard money shot, cumming on Kat's breasts, but just in case there's not very much – and seven or eight times out of ten there isn't – we've got piña colada mix in the gun, and it looks just like cum. We'll just shoot some on her tits and stomach and it'll look like Jonathon had a huge money shot." Hmmm. I guess that made sense. As I looked back over at Kat, I noticed that they had finished the missionary shots and now were repositioning. Jonathon was laying on his back on the wing of the B-58, and Kat was going to be on top, cowgirl style. The first few shots were of Kat straddling Jonathon, her hand on his cock. Then they took a few shots over her left shoulder, making it look like she was riding him for all she was worth. Then they had her lower herself just behind his balls, and took a few rear shots. Following that, they took a few shots from the front, with Jonathon's cock resting right in front of Kat's pussy. Once they were done with the cowgirl shots, Flynt called for a ten minute break for everybody to get some water and for the crew to hose down the wings of the plane. He then announced that the next position would be doggystyle. For the first few shots, Kat was bent over the back of the wing, looking up at Jonathon, who was standing next to her, looking down. Then, they had Jonathon move behind Kat and rest his cock in her ass crack. After a few more shots, they had him reposition. This was the delicate part. He had to get his cock underneath Kat, resting in her slit, without penetrating. Kat reached around again and covered herself, allowing him to get positioned. After a few seconds, he was in place and ready to go. They did a number of shots with Jonathon standing here, from all angles except directly overhead and directly beneath, both of which would've showed that his cock was not actually in her pussy. They had him move back and forth to simulate actual fucking, and as he did so, his cock would rub against Kat's slit. Every time he moved, her eyes would close, and she would moan a little. When they finished the doggystyle shots, Jonathon moved back. As he did so, his cock rubbed all the way down the length of Kat's slit, making her moan loudly. She hadn't covered herself with her hand, either, so the head of his cock grazed her pussy, making her moan even more. Larry Flynt began laughing. "Okay Kat," he said. "We're going to take a few minutes break now, so you can calm down." Kat started turning red. "Sorry," she said. "Oh, no, no apology necessary," Flynt replied. "It's perfectly normal." After a few minutes, Kat and Jonathon were told to get into position for what would be the last position before the money shot – reverse cowgirl. This was to be done almost exactly like forward cowgirl. For the first shots, Jonathon laid on his back on the wing, and Kat stood looking at him. Then, she straddled him, her back to him. Like the first time, she held his cock, her pussy a few inches above it. They took a few shots from the perspective of Jonathon, with it looking like she was riding him. Then they took some shots of her sitting on his pelvis, with his cock rubbing against her slit. "Okay, Kat," Flynt called. "Now I want you to straddle him again. VERY CAREFULLY, lower yourself down so that his cock is just barely making contact with your pussy lips." Kat did so, using the Air Force-developed muscles in her legs to hold herself with just the slightest contact between her labia and his cock head. A few pictures were taken, and then one of the photographers observed, "Hey, that looks almost like his cock is wearing a pink combat helmet." With a laugh, Flynt agreed. So, the photographer got in for a few close-ups. "How much longer?" asked Kat. The exertion was starting to show on her face. "Just a few more shots," replied the photographer. Kat rolled her eyes. She was getting tired and cranky – in my experience, not a good combination. Then, as she was holding that pose, Flynt called out further instruction. "Okay, Kat," he said. "I want to give the readers a little more than they bargained for. Are you comfortable with just the slightest bit of penetration?" "Whatever," snapped Kat. Oh boy. This was not good. She was getting bitchy. "Alright, then," replied Flynt. "I need you to do exactly as I tell you. First, from where you are right now, I need you to lower yourself ever so slightly, just so that the head of his cock is barely inside you." Kat complied, but when she was asked to hold the position, I could see her getting visibly crankier. Her leg muscles must've been getting extremely fatigued, and it was showing on her face. "Okay, Kat," said Flynt after a few photos. "Now, lift yourself up a few inches above his cock." Kat breathed a small sigh of relief as she did so. Lifting herself up, she was able to push her muscles into a more comfortable position. But it was not to last long. After a few photos, Flynt called out more instructions. "Alright, next. I want you to grab Jonathon's cock, lower yourself down BEHIND it, and rub it against your clit." This meant that Kat had to lower herself back down, putting even more strain on her fatigued muscles. Jonathon started to put a hand up to support her back, but Flynt would have none of it. "Jonathon! Get your hand out of the picture!" Sheepishly, Jonathon took his hand back. I didn't know how much of this Kat was going to take before she snapped, stalked over to Flynt bare ass naked, rolled him out of his wheelchair and stomped on his ass. Apparently, though, Kat had more patience than I have her credit for, which made sense – after all, after four years of shitty treatment at the hands of sexist pig NCOICs, she had built up quite a lot of patience. "Alright, Kat," said Flynt. "One more pose before the money shot – I want you to keep your hand on Jonathon's cock, but lift yourself back up to where you were originally – with his cock head touching just the outside of your pussy." Kat moved herself back up. The photographer started shooting again, this time with a telephoto lens for the real close-up pictures. Kat's face was turning bright red, and I thought she was going to fall over. When the photographer stopped for a moment, she took her hand off of Jonathon's cock, bent over slightly, and put her hand on Jonathon's knee for support. The photographer said, "Oh, no sweetie, I need you to stay in pose." Kat just stared at him. Then, with a sigh of exasperation, she said, "Oh, fuck this." I half expected her to get up, rip the lens off of the photographer's camera, and beat him with it. But that's not what she did. Oh no, quite the contrary. With a grunt, she let the muscular tension in her legs go and dropped her pussy down on the length of Jonathon's cock, taking all of him inside her at once. She started fucking him for all she was worth – something she had apparently needed to do all day. "Oh, shit," breathed Flynt. As he said that, the photographers all stopped and lowered their cameras. Looking around, Flynt yelled, "No, no! What the fuck are you doing! Keep going!" The photographers started shooting film like madmen, with Kat moaning, her face twisted in ecstasy. She had DEFINITELY needed this after the day she had been through. Suddenly, she screamed. "Oh God," she yelled, "I'm cumming!" Kat's orgasm was unbelievably violent. I'd have to ask Jason if it had been like this when he had fucked her. As Kat came down, Jonathon suddenly froze. "Oh shit," he said. "I'm about to cum!" "Kat! Off!" shouted Flynt. "Lay down on the wing! Jonathon, stand up! Get it on her pussy and her belly!" Kat moved as quickly as she could for somebody who had just had a screaming orgasm, with one of the photographers helping her to move. Jonathon shot up to his feet, and started jerking himself off for all he was worth. Then he froze, and with a grunt, he shot a rope of white liquid out of the head of his cock. It was a long, thick rope that landed on Kat's belly with an audible "splat." But he was nowhere near done. Eight, nine, ten, eleven ropes of cum shot out of his cock, coating Kat's tits, stomach, and pussy in jizz. I turned to the crew member I had talked to earlier. "Guess they won't be needing that SuperSoaker," I cracked. "After that cumshot?" he replied with a laugh. "They may as well shoot it into a bottle of vodka, and then we can all have drinks too!" As we were laughing about the thought of drinking what was intended to be a stand-in for cum, Kat slowly got up off the wing of the B-58. A crew member wrapped her in a white robe, and with the look of somebody who's had her brains fucked out, Kat staggered toward her trailer. After about forty minutes, she came back out, her hair wet and her makeup washed off, dressed in the clothes she had arrived in. She had obviously showered, which was definitely a good idea, given that had been covered in a day's worth of sweat and Jonathon Longfellow's cum. Kat climbed up into the passenger seat of my Explorer, and as I pulled out onto the 111 to head back up to the freeway, she laughed. "Let the Air Force stick THAT in their pipe and smoke it," she said. The issue was released in November, just in time for Kat's 23rd birthday. It was wrapped in the usual plastic, but this issue's cover was different. It didn't have the "Hustler" logo across it like most do. Instead, it had a picture of Kat in her Hustler pseudo-military uniform, with the Hustler across her chest taking the place of the logo. RED HOT! the cover promised anybody who bought it and read it. The Wild Blue Yonder November 2009 became the best-selling issue of Hustler, although it didn't outsell the February issue of Playboy. Unfortunately, it caught the eye of the general staff of the US Air Force, who decided that they should court-martial Kat for bad conduct. The court-martial would be held in San Diego. The court-martial was held on Friday, January 15th, 2010. On the day of the court-martial, Kat showed up, resplendent in her Class A dress uniform. General Durban was there to testify in Kat's defense, and I was there simply as General Durban's assistant. The prosecution called up admirals and generals, all quoting portions from the Uniform Code of Military Justice about how Kat had violated military regulations left and right and given the Air Force a bad name. As each regulation was quoted, I looked them up. Almost every single one was taken out of context and had no application for this case. I made sure to write all of this down, and when they were done testifying, I passed the note to General Durban. She smiled at me, and said, "Trust me, I know. I've already planned for this." After the prosecution's witnesses had all finished, the defense called up General Mae Durban to give a statement. "Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury," General Durban began, "I've known Sergeant Warbington for over four years now. In all the time I've known her, I have found her to be the best non-commissioned officer I've ever had the privilege of commanding. She has never displayed any characteristics of conduct unbecoming an NCO in the United States Air Force, and has been an exemplary platoon leader. "Furthermore, as you are all probably aware, I am a California bar-registered lawyer, having graduated from the UCLA School of Law in 1981. I have studied the Uniform Code of Military Justice rigorously, along with a team of unbiased experts from the United States Navy, Army, and Marine Corps. "In our examination of the UCMJ, we have found that Sergeant Warbington is in violation of no regulations. She did not utilize a regulation military uniform for any of these photographs, and this photo shoot was done after she had been dismissed from active duty. All the regulations that were quoted by the general staff were taken out of context and hold no bearing in this situation. I have documented this fully, and copies of my notes are available for the jury. "Finally, it is my intention at the conclusion of this court-martial to ask the Senate to form a sub-committee to study sexual discrimination in the United States Armed Forces. Despite the best efforts of some, there are many who have gone out of their way to block any efforts for equality in the military. If a man in the US military can walk around naked on a public beach," she said sternly, glaring at one of the admirals who had testified, "and five women get crucified for posing for one of the oldest and most respected magazine publications in the country, then there is something wrong with the military. "Thank you for your time. I would implore you to follow the letter and the spirit of the UCMJ, for if you do, you will find that Sergeant Warbington should be acquitted on all counts." The jury deliberated for nearly five hours. When they finally returned, Kat looked like she was about to break down. General Durban had given her countless hugs since the conclusion of her statement, and I had been on the phone to every media outlet I could think of, making sure they all knew about what was going on. As the jury settled into their seats, the foreman, a two-star Army general, rose. The judge asked the prosecution and the defense to rise, and then, "Have you reached a verdict?" he asked. "We have, your honor," replied the general. "The jury finds the accused, Technical Sergeant Katherine Warbington..." "Not guilty on all counts." Kat collapsed into her chair, tears streaming down her face, but a smile almost too big for her head spreading across her face. "Woo-HOO!" I shouted, leaping out of my seat. Streaker Admiral turned and glared at me, and I just gave him the most smart-ass smirk I could muster. General Durban simply sat in her seat, a serene smile on her face. The general staff who had testified against Kat began to file out, disgusted looks on their faces. The media demanded Kat and General Durban's time as they left the courtroom. After almost an hour, they finally left, leaving the two women alone. "Thank you, General," said Kat. "I can never repay you for this." "Oh, it's not me you owe," Mae Durban said. "I think it's your friend, Lieutenant Garrett. Ever since the court-martial was announced, he's been in the office twenty hours a day working on this case." It was true. There was no way that I was going to let Kat get screwed like this by the military, and so I had busted my ass getting this ready for General Durban to present. And lo and behold, when General Durban took my work and put it with her legal expertise, it turned out to be something that not even the most crotchety old generals and admirals could defeat. General Durban smiled, and turned to walk out the door. "Come on, Kat, I'll give you a ride up to Pasadena," I said. As we climbed into the Explorer, Kat said, "Austin... thank you." And then she pulled me to her and kissed me. It's a good thing it was dark by this time, because the MPs surely would've arrested us had they walked by and seen us in the back seat of the Explorer. We made love for almost two hours before we finally stopped and started the drive up the 15 back to Pasadena. After I dropped Kat off, I jumped on the 134 and headed over toward Sherman Oaks, to my brother's place. I had to drive up to Sacramento on Sunday, so I figured I'd spend the weekend hanging out with Jason. It would be all guy stuff, since Erin was out of town at a women's convention. That night, we were watching the eleven o'clock news when the story came on. "Air Force Tech Sergeant Katherine Warbington was acquitted of bad conduct charges in a military court-martial today," said the newscaster. "Following her appearance in the November 2009 issue of Hustler magazine, several members of the general staff of the United States Armed Forces called for a court-martial against her. However, a masterful defense presented by Air Force Brigadier General Mae Durban outdid the entire lineup of prosecution statements, and the jury found Sergeant Warbington not guilty on all counts. "In response to this decision, the President has announced the formation of a Senate committee to investigate sexual discrimination in the military. This committee will be headed by California Senator Barbara Boxer, a leading voice for women's rights within the US Senate. "The President also announced that he will be granting pardons to Army Sergeant Amy Carson, Marine Sergeant Michelle Kingsley, Navy Petty Officer Nicole McKenna, and Coast Guard Petty Officer Rachel Marxen, and restoring them to their previous ranks. This reverses the court-martial convictions that they all received in June and sets a new precedent for the US military, as no court-martial has ever been overturned in the history of the United States." I switched the television off and looked over at Jason. "Damn skippy," I said. "Damn skippy." Jason had a thoughtful look on his face. "You know," he said, "as a pastor, I can't necessarily agree with the fact that Kat had sex for the entire world to see, but nonetheless, I'm glad she was acquitted – she didn't deserve that." "Yeah, well, the rest of the world hasn't had sex with her. You've seen her up close and personal," I said with a smirk. Startled, he looked over at me. "How the hell did you find out about that?" "She told me, dipshit," I replied. "Not that I care – after all, it WAS more than five years ago, and it WAS before you and Erin were together – if just barely." "That's true," he mused. "And she was pretty damn good." "Still is," I replied. "Or at least, she seemed to be in the backseat of my Explorer this afternoon..." Jason looked up. "You bastard!" he laughed, throwing a couch cushion at me. General Durban retired in March of 2010. Her last act as the commander of Beale AFB was to promote me, skipping me over 1st Lieutenant to Captain. In April of 2011, Kat and I got married. My brother officiated, getting a HUGE wink from Kat as she stood in front of him at the altar. She and I have been very happily married for almost five years now. Just like any other couple, our sex life sometimes has low points, but hey, when it does get low, we at least have that old copy of Hustler that we can pull out...