textfiles/sex/EROTICA/F/furlouh1.txt

Archive-name: First/furlouh1.txt
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Archive-title: Furlough - 1


CHAPTER 1
     I never seen a girl like her in my whole life, not in my whole damn 
22 years. She was wearing a skirt so short that she could've stolen it 
off some cheerleader -- but it would've been a cheerleader about a foot 
shorter than she was, because on her, it barely covered her crotch, 
y'know? Any shorter and it would've been a collar. And then there was 
these long, strong legs, only they were all curvy, like some centerfold 
who ran in races, not all muscle-bound and squat like an East German 
track star.
     So, anyhow, I'm standing there gawking at her and she comes over, 
wearing this low-cut sweater and no bra, so I can see everything she's 
got -- and she's got plenty, lemme tell you -- and a nice smile on this 
wide mouth. And she's wearing shades, even though it's like midnight and 
in this part of the Village, there aren't too many lights.
     And she says, "So, looking for a date, honey?"
     All of a sudden, I'm no Seaman-First with 18 months under my belt. 
All of a sudden, I'm just a dumb kid from Ohio again, a farm boy, and 
the only thing under my belt is a hard-on and I can't make myself say 
anything.
     "First time in the Big Apple, sugar?" Up closer now, I can see 
she's really younger than I thought -- maybe 19 or 20. And there's a 
scar on her cheek, from the corner of her mouth up to her ear. She's got 
a lot of makeup on, but I can see the scar.
     I nodded and she smiled a little different. "Could you use a 
friend? I can be real friendly, show you a good time. Where ya from, 
cutie?"
     "O-o-ohio."
     "That's nice -- a country boy." She peers at me in the little 
blinking light from the crossing sign and frowns. "Say, you're not a Sea 
Scout, are you?"
     I don't get mad. Folks are always thinking I'm 15 or 16, 'cause I'm 
kind of short and look young. "No ma'am. I'm with the -- "
     "That's okay. Listen, honey, time is money. Want to spend some time 
together...?"
     Well, I tell myself, it's now or never. "S-s-sure. How m-m-much?"
     A flash of softness, then business-time again: "For our boys in the 
service, forty for a half-and-half, sixty for an hour, a hunnerd for 
anything, unusual -- and that includes the back door." She leans closer. 
"I hear sailors like going in the back door."
     I feel myself blushing. "An hour?"
     "And that includes cleanup time. You never done this before, have 
you? Okay, sixty. And we don't need a room. I got a van."
     I reach in my pocket for my wallet, but her hand is on my wrist. 
"Not here, sailor. Get the money in your hand, then shake with the man 
in the leather coat. He'll tell you where the van is. See you in five 
minutes, farm boy."
     She saunters away, long legs flashing brown and bare and silky, her 
round, hard ass rolling, reminding me that I was a virgin. Farm boys who 
look five years younger than their age don't get much chance at pussy 
where I come from, especially if their parents are determined to bring 
their boys up righteously. Which mine were. They even said they'd pray 
for me when I came home and finally admitted I'd signed up. Prayed for 
me like I was fallen already. Never guessed it'd taken almost two years 
of razzing from the other guys before I'd finally give in to my baser 
urges.
     But I had to do something. I hadn't gotten laid in New Zealand and 
in Canberra I'd sold my shore leave for eight cartons of Winstons, which 
I traded to get other guys to stand watch for me while I caught up on 
my sleep. I hadn't even gotten laid at Subic Bay, which I was told was 
some kind of record...if I was really straight.
     I stood there on the sidewalk on 14th Street near Ninth Avenue, 
watching those gams, that ass, disappear around the corner, acting like 
the hick I was. Then the man in the leather coat came up and said, 
"What's it? Half-and-half? Oh, sheeeeet, you a virgin."
     "It shows?"
     "Damn, that girl a softy. What's it gonna be, virgin?"
     "An hour."
     "Kinky, too? And don't bullshit me."
     "Just an hour." For effect, I added: "So I won't be rushed." I 
looked him right in the eyes, which were about eight inches higher than 
mine. He didn't flinch. 
     I held out my hand to shake, transferred the bills and he said, "My 
man! Round the corner, the bakery truck. Ask for some hot buns!" He 
laughed at his own cleverness.
     Around the corner was a panel truck with FRESH BAKERY in big letter 
on its side and back. I had my doubts about this whole thing, now. What 
if this was a setup? I'd really lost any vestige of horniness; this 
experience was already proving more effective than a cold shower.
     I told myself I had to go through with it. I walked up to the 
driver's door and tried to see inside. Blackness. I knocked lightly and 
heard something click. The door slid back.
     "Well, come on, sailor -- the meter's running."
     I stepped up and slid the door closed behind me as I scuttled 
across the seat. Her hand reached from behind me, through a black 
curtain, and found my wrist. "Back here."
     I turned and stepped through the curtain. I heard a door slide shut 
and then a dim light went on.
     The inside of the bakery truck had been turned into a very small 
room, complete with a mattress on the floor. The sheet on the mattress 
had seen better days. The walls were covered with cheap, industrial 
carpeting. There was also an assortment of well-worn throw pillows and 
in the corner a tool box was bolted to the wall.
     "You want me to play romantic, like a date, honey?"
     I shook my head.
     "Well, what do you want?" She stood in front of me, hands on the 
tight hips, waiting. Without the sunglasses, I could see she wasn't as 
old as I'd thought -- maybe 17 or 18.
     "I dunno."
     She studied my face carefully. "I think I was right. You never had 
a girl before, did you?"
     "No..."
     "Well, let's see -- first..." She took my hand and placed it on her 
breast. I squeezed carefully, afraid of hurting her. I'm small, but I've 
got strong hands. I watched her face. She nodded. I used both hands 
then, fondling her tits. She was braless and her boobs were really firm. 
"That's nice, honey." She winked at me and began peeling the tight 
sweater off. "Help me with this, will ya?"
     I helped until I got distracted by having two big, round firm tits 
bobbling right at eye level. As she finishing stripping her sweater, I 
couldn't resist leaning forward and kissing her nipples. They began to 
swell in the relatively cool air inside the truck.
     "That's really nice, baby. Suck 'em."
     While I suckled her tits, she skinned out of her little skirt and 
peeled down the panties. She had hair down there, but not much. She led 
my hand to her cunt and placed my fingers so I could feel it. It seemed 
kind of small, but I had no basis for comparison. She was dry, too.
     "How do I look, sugar?"
     I straightened and grinned, nervous. "You look sexy as hell."
     It was true. She did look sexy. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea, 
after all. I felt the tightening in my nuts as she went to the tool 
chest, opened it and took some things out. When she came back to me and 
stood under the little 25 watt bulbs, I could see what they were: a 
plant sprayer, some towelettes and paper towels. She had a little condom 
package clasped in her teeth. She handed me the towelettes and condom, 
then knelt before me and began fumbling with the buttons on my pants.
     "No, let's see what this sailor has for my port..." 
     Looking down at her curly head at crotch level, seeing her firm 
tits bobbled slightly as she moved, made me start hardening again.
     She pulled down my pants and briefs with one motion and her eyes 
got real big.
     "Shit."
     "Something wrong?"
     She shook her head. "It's just that for such a little guy, you've 
got some piece of meat there. And it isn't even hard all the way yet." 
She gripped my swelling cock and jerked my foreskin up and down
carefully. I groaned. "Nice and clean, too. How big does this thing 
get?"
     I shrugged. "I dunno. Never measured it."
     "Most guys this big know to the quarter inch." She slid her hand 
lightly down the shaft and tried to hold the base; her fingers didn't 
touch. I was pretty nearly all the way hard. She cupped my balls in her 
hand and pushed my cock against the underside of her arm, so my emerging 
glans was pressed into the crease of her elbow. "Big balls, too," she 
murmured. "And firm." She bent her head and blew softly over my cock. I 
was instantly fully hard and throbbing.
     She looked up at me. "I'm really the first, huh?"
     I nodded.
     "And you never, y'know, went with any guys?" My expression must 
have answered her because she said, "No, not you. Farm boy. Bible Belt. 
Righteous parents. I bet you don't even jerk off."
     I felt my face redden. "Well, sometimes I just can't stand it and I 
gotta do something or I feel like I'm going to explode..."
     Her lips quirked. "Be a big blast, betcha. Well, you've never been 
with anyone and you're clean...Listen, honey, I'll be honest with you -- 
I don't think I can handle this sausage in my cunt. But I can still take 
care of you."
     A hand job, I thought. Great. Forty bucks for a hand job. 
     My disappointment must have shown.
     She smiled. "You're gonna like this." She put both hands on my cock 
and took my glans in her mouth and sucked on it.
     "Oh, yeahhhhh..." I groaned.
     She stopped and looked up at me. "See? Lay down here." She patted 
the mattress. I stepped out of my pants and briefs and sat. She never 
took her hand off my cock. 
     She turned on her knees and lifted my cock up straight, so it was 
pointing at my face. "Y'know, you could probably do this all by
yourself."
     It took me a moment to understand what she meant, then I flushed. 
"That's perverted!"
     "But cheaper. Still, I'll be more fun for you!" She pushed me back, 
so I was laying flat. She started licking and nibbling all over my dick, 
kissing it and slobbering. Her hands kept jerking me and I got as hard 
as I ever get. "Fucking thing must be fifteen inches long," she
whispered. Then she started sucking me again. She couldn't get more than 
a couple of inches into her mouth, but she made the most of them. Her 
tongue moved against my glans and sometimes she crashed me into the back 
of her mouth, making a little "Mmmpf!" noise when she did it. 
     I knew I was ready to cum and so did she, probably by the swellings 
and jerkings of my cock. She jerked harder and faster with both hands 
and sucked furiously. Suddenly, I felt the cum just pouring out of me. I 
heard her gag slightly and then she swallowed noisily. I kept cumming 
for a long time, nine or ten big shots. It had been six weeks since the 
last time I'd jerked off and I had a lot of jism stored up. She sucked 
and swallowed as fast as she could, but thee was too much of it and it 
was leaking from her lips around my shaft, making her jerking smoother 
and hotter.
     I groaned and came with three or four smaller shots before I 
stopped. She sucked some more and then knelt back, my cum running down 
her face and dripping on her tits. My cock was sagging back to half-mast 
when she released it.
     "You really came a lot, kid," she said, absently wiping her lips on 
the back of her wrist. "Must've been five or six ounces. Never saw one 
person come so much all at once." She was eyeing my cock speculatively. 
She suddenly scrambled over to the toolbox and returned with a small 
toothpaste-size tube. "Maybe like this, with lots of K-Y, I can get you 
inside me while you're just half hard." She squeezed a big dollop of 
clear gel into her palms and massaged it into her cunt, then did it 
again, this time pushing the stuff inside herself. She straddled my hips 
and gripped my dick again, resting it against her abdomen. My knob 
almost reached her belly button.
     I realized what she planned to do and felt my balls filling again. 
She got into a crouch over my dick. With one hand, she aimed my prick 
while with the other, she held her cunt open. Then she lowered herself 
slowly, carefully, onto my half-hard cock.
     As soon as I felt my knob being wedged into her pussy lips, as soon 
as I felt the heat and softness of her, I knew I was going to have to 
cum again soon. 
     With my glans secure, she put both hands on my cock and began 
bobbing her hips down carefully while she stuffed my dick up into her. 
Even not fully erected, it was hard for her cunt to take it. But she 
persisted and finally got my whole knob inside her quim. I groaned at 
the sensation and my dick started swelling again.
     She kept rolling her hips and pushing down, working me into her a 
half-inch at a time. When she had me about half into her, I put my hands 
on her hips and pushed up at her.
     She immediately removed my hands and said, "Honey, let me do this. 
It's tough enough and -- " My cock twitched inside her. "Oh, shit! I 
don't think I can take too much more of this. It feels like I'm going to 
split open." She rested her hands on my chest for balance and pushed 
down again. Her eyes closed and her face showed the strain as she took 
more of my cock -- now it was almost completely hard again -- into her 
sweet pussy.
     She'd gotten about two thirds of my length into her when I felt 
something hard against the head of my cock. She sucked in a breath 
sharply and pulled up, then pressed down. Again, I felt that hard thing 
against my cock and again she made the noise.
     "I -- I just can't handle any more, sugar."
     "Th-th-thanks for trying," I managed to groan out.
     "So sweet," she mumbled and bobbed up and down on me as fast as she 
could -- but given how much my cock had swollen, that wasn't very fast. 
There were still a good five or six inches unsheathed, even at her 
deepest. When my dick began pre-cum twitching she frowned in discomfort 
and slowly pulled herself off me.
     She quickly turned and again plunged my throbbing prick into her 
mouth. It only took a few seconds of that, combined with her hands 
jerking on my slippery shaft, before I was moaning and cumming again.
     Since I'd just cum about a little while before, I only fired about 
six or seven big spurts before tapering off into a half dozen smaller 
ones. It was still too much for her to handle, 'cause it drooled out of 
the corers of her stretched mouth and flooded her hands and my groin.
     When she finally got the last of it, she released my flagging prick 
and sat heavily on her rounded butt, knees spread. I could see her cunt 
was still stretched open, even in the dim light.
     "You got some extra balls hidden somewhere? Do you always cum so 
much?"
     "I dunno," I told her. "Usually I just whack off to take the edge 
off, you know?" Then, in case she was complaining, I said, "I'm sorry."
     She was looking at my sperm-covered cock. Wilted, my dick lay back 
flat on my abdomen, the knob reaching almost to my navel. "No, it's 
okay. You've got more soft than other guys have when they're hard." On 
impulse, it seemed, she bent and kissed the underside of my cock, just 
beneath the glans. Instantly, it began swelling again.
     "Oh, shit -- again? Already?"
     "I'm sorry. It just happens."
     "Well, not now. You've only got about ten minutes left and we still 
have to get cleaned up and dressed." She handed me a towelette and 
opened one for herself, efficiently using a paper towel to mop her cunt 
and face and all the other places I had just slimed, then cleaned off 
with a towelette. I followed suit, but more clumsily. I watched her 
dressing as I pulled my briefs and pants back on, tucking my cock under 
my balls, which were already refilling as I watched her firm ass when 
she bent for her sweater.
     She muttered something.
     "Excuse me?"
     She turned to me, straightening as she pulled the sweater back on. 
"I just said, 'Even Sherry couldn't handle that much meat.'"
     "Sherry?"
     "This woman I know who's a freak for big cocks. She'd cream her 
drawers over yours. I'll give you her number."
     I smiled sheepishly. "I really can't afford -- "
     She laughed. "Honey, for a dong that big, Sherry doesn't charge. 
Hell, she'll pay *you* once she gets a look at that extra leg! Say, how 
long are you going to be in port?"
     "Another five days. Why?"
     She took a small memo pad and a short pen from her handbag. She 
wrote something quickly and handed me the paper. "Ask for Mrs. Tell and 
tell her Wanda Legs -- that's me -- recommended you. And if you go to 
see her, wear some jeans and a shirt. Uniforms turn her off."
     She turned off the light and pulled open the door and curtain. We 
slithered through the driver's compartment of the bakery truck and stood 
on Ninth Avenue.
     "Good night, sailor!"
     "Wait! How do you know this Mrs. Tell?"
     "I used to work for her mother."
     "For her mother? As what?"
     "A call girl, dummy. She threw me out when I got hooked on crack. 
Happy trails!"
     Hooked on crack? I shook my head in sorrow as I watched those long, 
lithe legs flashing under the tiny skirt. I pushed the paper in my 
pocket and headed off in the opposite direction, mulling the
possibilities.

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