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While I was at San Diego Balboa Hospital, I had five young enlisted that worked under me. Two female enlisted and three male enlisted none above third class PO and the rest were below that. The girls were training to be yoemen and the boys, well, they were training in other things not on the Navy's programed educational themes. One day, Michael came over to me, and asked me how I did what I did without getting a hardon all the time with all the beautiful women that passed through the office of Manpower Management. I told him that shear will power most of the time, and then the ever looming fear of Captain's Mast was always present, especially with an Admiral stationed in the hospital and living on the grounds as well. He sortof grunted and shifted down in his chair and messed with his crotch area looking back over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching. As he looked over his shoulder, I took a quick peek between his legs and noticed that he had about 7 inches of nice hard meat that was pulsating with his heart beat. My meat immediately sprung into action and I turned my legs away from him, and looked back down at the paperwork on my desk before he turned back around. As he turned around, he leaned forward in his chair and his leg hit mine. He said excuse me and shifted back in is seat. He had never seen me take that peek at his throbbing meat, but looked at me like I needed to answer more of his question than what I did. He asked what I was doing that night, and I said I was going home to check on Mom first, and then out to a local bar downtown. He asked if he could tag along and if he could meet me at my place at about 7 pm. I heard the bells in the belfry telling me what the Commander had said about higher enlisted not ...

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