(NSFW) The Jersey Lewds

	Looking out over the corner of the bar, one battleship slowly raised a glass to her lips, feeling the bourbon pour down her throat. The pounding of the band's kick drum didn't drown out the break in her heart, and no matter how much she drank it just burned in her gut. Alcohol wouldn't salve her pain, and she still heard him talking, leaning on that rail out over the Potomac like it was yesterday.

	As the glass slammed down, the bartender slowly ambled up to fill it. Another shot of the barrel-aged rye went into her glass- and then, next to it, a small flute, filled to the top with a light, honey-like drink.

	"Th' fuck?" the Battleship New Jersey asked, her brain racking itself over the new drink. The bartender shrugged, pointing down to the other end. "From the gentleman in black."

	Tipping back her whiskey, Jersey shrugged. Booze was booze, and she was only drinking something good because she'd already drank them out of the rotgut. Sipping at it, she nearly dropped the glass as hints of cinnamon and clove played across her mouth, playing with the warm apple flavor.

	It tasted like pie.

	Turning, Jersey raised herself off the barstool and started moving towards the man in black. Soon enough, the black turned to pinstripes under the light, faint cream and gold accenting his height as he smiled slightly. His own glass was still full, the drink bubbling much like a French 75 was liable to.

	"Hey." Jersey said, glaring at him. "What is this?"

	The man smiled, his blue eyes closing for a second. "Something you might like. My family calls it apple pie in a glass."

	Jersey blinked, the moment of humanity causing the near two liters of alcohol she'd drunk over the last eight hours to come crashing into her. "Wat."

	"It's a moonshine, flavored with a little of this and that."

	As Jersey started rebooting her computers, she looked carefully at the man. "Do I... *know* you?"

	The man shrugged, holding out a hand. "Juan de Iberez. I'm one of the foremen at the yards. Might have worked on you or your kit once or twice- what guns do you use?"

	"Mark 7, sixteen-inch fifty caliber." Jersey replied. "Triple mounts."

	Juan smiled, laughing. "Only triples I've handled were eights, so that rules that out. Still, it's rude to talk work when you're relaxing with a pretty girl."

	Jersey's smile, starting to creep up on her cracked like glass. "A pretty girl." she muttered, leaning on the bar. "God forbid, someone who sees a girl. Hah!"

	"Hard not to when you're throwing your chest out there like a hat rack." Juan remarked slyly, taking a pull at his drink.

	"What, not afraid I'm going to point a naval rifle at you for daring to want something warm?" Jersey bit, turning to face him. Shaking his head, Juan rapped the bar twice and pointed to the empty flute of Jersey's Apple Pie and his own French 75.

	"Not the first gun I've had pointed at me in the name of a good-looking woman." Juan said, raking back his long hair, the curls of sawdust blonde trying and failing to shadow half his face. "Hell, not even the first time someone's threatened to make sure there wouldn't be a body."

	It might have been the booze, it might have been the challenge. It might have come from the apple pie sitting on the bar, warm and seductive and similar enough to be familiar but different enough to force her out. Either way, Jersey was thinking, and when the gears in her head and FCC were sufficiently lubricated with bourbon they made... interesting ideas.

	"So..." Jersey asked, thinking to herself about how to phrase this. "Tell me, Juan; have you ever gotten to see the midnight submarine races with someone with firsthand knowledge of the sport?"

	Juan blinked twice, and laughed. "Really? Really? You're fucking kidding me."

	Jersey drew herself up, right until Juan kept speaking. "I mean, the answer's yes, but not until you come up with a pickup line that's not shit."

	Jersey blinked as Juan started sipping on his second drink. "Sit down for a minute, alright? I mean... I heard rumors about the side effects of being a ship, but I never expected the naval jokes to actually be a thing. Two drinks talking before we do anything rash, no?"

	"Alright." Jersey said, shaking her head. "I drink fast, though."

---

	Looking at Juan's apartment carefully, Jersey let herself be shown in to the bachelor pad. Inside was a comfertable couch, where Juan casually threw his rain coat next to a patch of rapidly-retreating cat fur. Turning to Jersey, he blinked carefully as she strode towards him, before their hair tangled as their heads met. Moments later, Jersey was kissing him-

	-and she was making an absolute hash of it. Sighing, Juan pulled away momentarily, except Jersey held on harder, and moments later they had crashed on his couch. Growling, Juan took the lead, frantically duelling Jersey's probing tongue for breathing space. Moments later as the battleship remembered she still needed this thing called air, Juan took his revenge by stroking her side and goosing her ass. After the resultant yip, he managed to get his tongue in her mouth and resumed kissing, one hand firmly on her ass. As they both broke off this time, Juan panted.

	"Calm... down... Jesus fuck, I'm not letting you away now..."

	As Jersey just panted for air, Juan started playing her vest buttons off, one at a time. "'m sorry." Jersey mumbled, still barely an inch from his face. One of her hands went south, feeling Juan's rock-hard abs, slowly going into the fold of his shirt. Seconds later, Juan managed to force himself up and forward slightly, grinning as he worked at prying the battleship's vest off her.

	"Just buck fever, Jersey. Happens when you get a little too pent up."

	As Jersey leaned back on her heels to take off her shirt, Juan did the same. Soon, both were looking at the other, smiling. Leaning down, Jersey brushed her cheek on Juan's mess of chest hair, smiling as she dug a hand in. Her paramour returned the favor, cupping and stroking her breasts, smiling all the while.

	"Hey, can we, uh, use a bed?" Jersey asked, blushing a little. Juan smiled, sliding out from under her to help her off the couch and to his bedroom. As Jersey sprawled herself out, she blushed as his head slowly made it's way towards her legs, hands gently nudging them open and the leggings off.

	"Ah?" Jersey asked, before a practiced tongue flicked out to kiss her jewel. "Ah!"

	Moments later, the battleship was in exctasy, gasping for breath. Jersey thought it couldn't keep going, the pounding crescendo of lust and sensation threatening to drown her until it broke. Screaming to the heavens, her back arched, voice echoing through the apartment as her legs squeezed tight to the source.

	Moments later as she unwound, Juan looked up some, wincing.

	"Mi amor..." he muttered, shaking his head and flexing his hands. "Do a man a favor, and warn him before you try and break his head, okay?"

	Jersey tried to nod, the warm glow she was in making it hard to think. Moments later, she saw Juan lean over her, kissing her once kindly.

	"I doubt this part will hurt, but..." he trailed off, shrugging. "I don't think you'll notice."

	As Jersey felt a slight poke, then a pop, then a warmth. Before, it was as if everything had been sensate, a heavenly feel on her lower lips. Now, though, it was a rod, filling an emptiness she never knew she had.

	"Ah! More!" she cried, energy returned as she scrambled to grab him. It felt so good, so warm! Something missing found, she knew it now! "You, ah! God!"

	Juan smiled, gasping. Jersey wasn't a sleeve, or a slit, or any other comparison he'd ever heard before. She was constricting, tight and pulling down on him, and trying to devour him. Blindly, he remembered his lack of condom, and just shook his head briefly. He'd say she was just steel and magic before, but there was nothing of the former in the tightness surrounding his cock. Moving back and forth, he moaned quietly as the cool air touched his damp member, before he plunged it in again. He might have had to keep moving, but even holding still in her was a rare pleasure.

	It was a shame the first round had to end soon. Speeding up, Juan moved faster and faster trying to see if he could get a reaction from Jersey.

	He succeeded in all regards, her cries rising up, only to be silenced as he bent down low to kiss her lips. Seconds later, they both came.

---

	Panting on the bed, Juan rolled off Jersey as politely as he could. As the two gasped for breath, he smiled faintly.

	"So, that's the first round. Want to call it good, or do you think you could wring another out of me?"

	Jersey panted, eyes wide. "I... I don't know. That was amazing."

	"Thank you." Juan laughed, twitching his feet to see if he could stand. "But for now, though, it's almost two in the morning, and I know there's a beautiful moon over my balcony. Care to join me for a cigar?"

	Jersey nodded, sitting up slowly and reaching for her pants until Juan brushed her hand aside.

	"It's warm out tonight- why spoil another beautiful sight?" he asked, moving to a humidor on his dresser. "C'mon- I think I can spare you a Cuban or two if you ever want to come back."

	Nodding, Jersey stepped after him, smiling as she relaxed with an invisible weight gone.