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Catalina, by The Mighty Foo
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A lot of pilots in flight school joked about Catalinas – they said gooneybirds was ugly. But there wasn’t nothin’ ugly about that PBY that taxied up to rescue me when I was floating in shark-infested waters near Rabaul. I thought it was the most beautiful plane I ever seen.
Rabaul was the biggest Japanese base in the whole South Pacific, the center of their whole war effort, and believe you me, it was plenty well defended. Admiral Halsey told us to go in there and turn Rabaul into Rubble. I flew a 4F4 Hellcat off the USS Saratoga, providing fighter escort for our divebombers. We did a number on their drydocks, but I got hit over the target by antiaircraft fire and had to ditch in the St. Georgia Channel on the way back to the Lady Sara. I got banged up pretty good when I ditched – the medics told me later that I had a concussion and nearly didn’t make it back -- but there I was, floating in my life raft, way too close to Rabaul for comfort. If the Japanese patrols didn’t get me, the sharks probably would.
I don’t know how long I was floating there - maybe a few hours. I don't know, I was getting pretty slap-happy and startin’ to hallucinate. Then the next thing I know, this gooneybird was pullin’ up alongside me. There in the open hatchway was the most gorgeous young sailor I ever seen. He was lean, tanned, blonde, and completely naked - and he had a long, thick piece of uncut meat swingin’ between his legs. He jumped in and swam over to me, hauling himself onto my raft. He searched my face and frowned – I guess he was worried about me passing out with my head injury, so he started a banter with me to keep me awake. “What’s your name, flyboy? You married? Got any kids?” I told him no, but if he got me home in one piece I’d marry him and have his kids. Ha ha ha. Except then he gave me a sly look and I wondered if maybe he was planning to take me up on that offer. I decided right then and there that I would thank my hero properly when we got back to base. Make him feel real good.
He said his name was Sky.
As soon as Sky got me hauled up into the plane he manned his station at the tail gun mount and gave the pilot the high sign to take off. The PBY pilot gunned the engines and we were airborne a few seconds later. No sooner were we in the air than Sky frowned and reported over the intercom that a bandit was coming in at 5 o’clock high. I immediately got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach – takeoff is when a plane is most vulnerable, especially a big, lumbering seaplane like a Catalina. PBYs are slow and not very manuverable, no match for an enemy Zero. The life of everyone on that plane now depended on our beautiful naked tail gunner, manning off against that enemy pilot. I could see Sky was getting an erection – that was just natural, guys often popped boners in combat situations. They just usually weren't naked at the time. God, he was beautiful.
The Zero opened up on us and Sky let loose with his .50 cal. They blazed away at each other for a couple of seconds, then the Zero got a bead on us. Richochets riddled the fuselage as the Zero raced past us; a seaplane is painfully slow compared to a fighter. All our hopes depended on this naked kid blazing away with his machine gun. Sky was fully erect now and his foreskin had half-retracted over his swollen cockhead; he was leaking precum as he swung around to fire at the Zero, who was coming in for another pass. Sky and the Zero were now firing directly at each other, but the enemy pilot nailed Sky first with a string of bullets. Caught in the harness of the machine gun, Sky could not escape – he helplessly convulsed and shuddered as slug after slug slammed into his gut. Sky gasped and ejaculated, squirting the last of his cum onto his still blazing machine gun. The Zero pilot then mercilessly blew both of Sky's balls off, together with the tip of his still-spurting cock. Sky cried out in agony as his foreskin landed in my lap.
Yet Sky was still somehow managing to return fire. As the fighter roared past us Sky shot up its engine with his .50 cal. I watched out the side canopy as the Zero smoked, sputtered, and went into a death spiral. Before his plane spun into the sea the enemy pilot managed to eject and float away in his parachute, unharmed. Now that I could clearly make out his features, I could see that that the Zero pilot was quite a handsome young man.
Sky lay dying, still strapped in his harness, slumped over his smoking machine gun. His beautiful lithe body was oozing life from a dozen bullet holes; semen and blood flowed from his ruined, empty scrotum. With the last of his strength Sky raised his eyes and saw his handsome executioner drifting off in the breeze, mocking him with the ease of his escape. Grimly, Sky set his jaw, mastered his pain, and gathered himself up for one final effort. His machine gun blazed to life for the last time. At first Sky's aim was wild and tracer bullets zipped off into the sea, but slowly, painfully, inexorably, he was able to redirect his stream of fire onto the enemy parachutist. His handsome opponent was at his mercy, and Sky pressed home his revenge. He riddled the young enemy pilot with machine-gun fire, who jerked and danced as madly as a puppet on a string. Sky smoked his opponent, blowing his chest to pieces and exploding his heart. By the time had Sky ceased fire, the handsome Zero pilot was hanging limply in his harness, swaying to and fro in the breeze as crazily as a hanged man.
Then Sky let go, arching backwards in his gun harness, his arms and legs spread eagle, his head rolling back on his shoulders, his beautiful body smoking from at least a dozen bullet holes. Sky stared at me with wide-open blue eyes, gave a long last exhalation, and surrendered his life. I would never forget how this sexy, naked young warrior stud had selflessly given his life to save his buddies.
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