textfiles/sex/EROTICA/F/furlouh2.txt

Archive-name: First/furlouh2.txt
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Archive-title: Furlough - 2


CHAPTER 2

     Some of the guys teased me until I finally admitted I had gotten 
laid. And blown.
     "No shit?" We were showering, about five of us. "No shit?" George 
repeated. He was a big, black man, Seaman First. "Hey, guys, Eddie 
finally lost it!"
     Cheers went up and some more kidding. "So how'd you like it, kid?" 
George asked.
     I grinned at him. "I liked it a lot."
     "What'd you get, some old bag?"
     "Streetwalker over on Fourteenth, just like you said. About 19 or 
so, I guess."
     "How'd she like that big club of yours?" He nodded toward my cock, 
swinging under the needle spray of the shower as I sluiced off the soap.
     "She had some trouble with it -- couldn't take it all -- but she 
sucked me off a couple of times."
     "I know someone who could take it all," he said, winking. 
     "C'mon, George, you know how I feel about that." As soon as George 
had learned I was unrepentantly straight, he'd stopped making passes at 
me and passed the word to the other queers. Generally, nobody came on 
too strong.
     But George still kidded me from time to time. "Can't blame a guy 
for trying." He laughed and grinned again. "Anyhow, congratulations, 
kid."
     "Thanks."
     I dried off, got into my civvies, signed out and went shoreside. At 
the first vacant, functioning phone, I dialed the number. It was 
answered on the second ring.
     "Mrs. Tell, please."
     "Who may I say is calling?"
     "Eddie Carr. A Miss Legs said I should contact her."
     "A moment." I listened to traffic overhead on the West Side Highway 
for a few seconds. Then: "Mr. Carr?" 
     The woman's voice was tense, but not hostile or pushy. "Yes. Mrs. 
Tell?"
     "Yes. Wanda said you should call me?"
     "Yes, ma'am. Said you'd like to meet me."
     "Oh, she did? Was Wanda able to take care of you completely?"
     "Mmmmm -- not nearly, ma'am. Left about a third of me out in the 
cold." I felt weird talking like this, but -- What the hell!
     "Really?" Her voice had even more tension in it. Now I realized 
what it was -- excitement. "Really? Well, Mr. Carr, perhaps we could 
have a drink this evening, say about seven-thirty."
     "That'd be fine, ma'am. Where?"
     "Why, here, of course." She gave me an address on East Fifty-Eighth 
Street.
     "Mrs. Tell, I have to ask you -- are you still married? Because I 
don't like to get friendly with married ladies, if you know what I 
mean."
     "Scruples? Good heavens, Mr. Carr, you are not a resident of New 
York, are you? Of course not. Midwest, I'd guess. Anyhow -- no, I am not 
married any longer. Mr. Tell and I split up a few years ago. I'll be 
glad to give you all the sordid details over a drink. Seven-thirty, 
then?"
     "I'm looking forward to it, ma'am."
     "Good, because I am looking forward to accommodating you. Good-
bye."
     I wandered around town with some of the other guys for most of the 
day. We had lunch at some Greek place in the Village and went up to the 
Empire State Building. Everywhere we went, there were good-looking 
women. I think there're more good-looking women in New York City then 
any place in the world. And all kinds -- young and old and in between, 
big and little, white and black and yellow. It was great, and by six 
o'clock, I was definitely in the mood for an accommodating woman. I 
decided to walk over to the address Mrs. Tell had given me. I had plenty 
of time and walked slowly, but still got there ten minutes early. Which 
gave me time to have doubts again. For all I knew, Mrs. Tell was some 
fifty-year-old battleax. Or a fat, dumpy broad who had to pay guys to 
take care of her.
     It was a four-story brownstone with what looked like a roof garden, 
judging by the shrubbery and lights I could see from the sidewalk. As I 
waited, a limousine pulled up. The door of the house opened and two 
fabulously beautiful women, long legged and graceful, appeared. They 
were in slinky, formal evening gowns and wore nice jewelry. One was 
black and the other was white and either one was enough to break a 
natural man's heart. One of them flashed me a quick smile as she ducked 
into the limousine through the door the chauffeur held for her. And what 
did a night with a babe like that cost? I guessed it was more than a 
Seamen-First made in a year to get either of them.
     The limo pulled away and I crossed the street. A moment later, I 
was ringing the backlit doorbell.
     The door opened and a maid stood there. "Yes?"
     "Eddie Carr to see Mrs. Tell. She's expecting me."
     "Oh, yes, please come in. I will tell her you are here."
     She closed the door behind me and I looked the place over. I was in 
a formal vestibule, dimly lit and heavily carpeted. Everything I saw 
sort of quietly screamed MONEY at the top of its lungs. Mrs. Tell might 
be a battleax, but she was a rich battleax.
     The maid returned, smiling. She was Hispanic, pretty and had a 
really good figure. I guessed she was in her thirties. "Mrs. Tell said 
she will receive you in her lounge. Follow me, please?"
     She started up the stairs and I was right behind her. She really 
had a good ass, that maid did, and it was twitching right in front of my 
face. And she knew it, because when we reached the top of the stairs and 
she gestured toward an open door at the other end of the landing, she 
gave me a smile and a wink.
     At the door of the lounge, I paused and said, "Mrs. Tell?" The room 
was lit only by the light coming in from the street, through the 
windows.
     "Over here. Come in, please!"
     A small table lamp went on. The room was big and sumptuous, 
furnished with white, modern sectionals lining two walls. The third wall 
was taken up by all sorts of electronic entertainment stuff and the one 
through which I'd entered was covered with mahogany cabinets. The carpet 
was plush and a pale blue.
     Mrs. Tell stood and held her hand out to me.
     Mrs. Tell was a fox.
     "Mr. Carr?"
     I crossed to her, feeling suddenly awkward, and took her hand. It 
was small. Hell, *she* was small -- a good six inches shorter than me, 
and not even her dark blue jogging suit could conceal the fact that she 
couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds. 
     "Please, call me Eddie, ma'am."
     "Okay, Eddie ma'am."
     We laughed. 
     "And call me Sherry. Can I get you a drink?"
     "Something soft, please."
     "Coke?"
     "Fine, thanks."
     I watched her walk to a cabinet and open it, revealing a little 
refrigerator. She scooped some ice from an ice bucket into a glass 
retrieved from another cabinet and quickly fizzed some Coca-cola into 
it. I was watching her move inside the jogging suit. The material wasn't 
heavy enough to be a sweat suit and when she moved, it clung nicely. She 
was petite, with a nice, tight body. And her face was lovely. She had 
very full lips, big, dark, pretty eyes and a straight little nose. Her 
hair was very dark and I guessed she was maybe thirty years old --  
probably less.
     She had a great little ass. And that started me wondering if this 
was some kind of joke. Wanda was a big girl and she hadn't been able to 
handle me; was this little piece of fluff even a candidate?
     She came back and handed me the Coke, then sat at the corner of the 
sectional. She gestured and I sat on the other side of the corner. She 
picked up another glass and took a big gulp. I could smell the gin.
     "Well, Eddie, I got a call from Wanda this afternoon and she told 
me all about you." She smiled. "So Wanda got your cherry, eh? Sweet. And 
she told me you have rather impressive endowments." She squirmed a 
little lower in the cushion and cross her legs at the knees. I watched 
the fabric of the jogging suit drape her calves. Her gaze traveled up 
and down my torso, then back to my face. "I've been wet since she told 
me." The tension in her voice was growing and her nipples were pressing 
the thin material of the jogging suit, rising and falling as she 
breathed. "I had to lock my door and help myself out four times since 
she called."
     I swallowed.
     She licked her lips. "Let me see it. Please."
     "Just like that? Right here? But the maid -- "
     "She won't disturb us. Please?" I noticed her hand was in her 
crotch and she was blushing.
     In for a penny, in for a pound, I thought. I stood, unzipped and 
pushed my jeans and briefs to my knees. 
     "Yessssss...." She put her drink down and slowly folded to her 
knees on the floor. Her eyes were locked on my cock. She walked on her 
knees to me and took my cock in trembling fingers. Her touch was hot and 
my dick began swelling, making up for time lost while I'd questioned her 
capacity. She raised my glans to mouth level, kissed it and then opened 
her mouth very, very wide and stuffed my prick inside. She groaned as 
she began licking and sucking it. 
     She put both hands on my shaft and lightly stroked me as she began 
working her mouth back and forth over my erecting flesh. She pulled more 
than pushed and kept taking more of my cock into her mouth. The knob hit 
the back of her mouth pretty fast and I was ready for her to stop and 
pull off me. She didn't. She made a kind of throat-clearing noise, bent 
lower and angled her head up.
     I could see she had her throat and mouth all in a line. She bent my 
cock down so it was in line with her gullet. She pulled me again and I 
felt my dickhead slipping into her throat. Her nostrils flared and then 
she backed me off a bit. Her tongue was trapped under the meat in her 
mouth, but she never stopped fluttering it against my prick and she 
never stopped jerking on my shaft.
     She pulled me forward and my knob went into her throat a little bit 
more easily. She gulped and pushed herself up at me as she put one hand 
on my hip. She kept pulling me toward her. I could feel her throat 
swallowing on my cock, the muscles in her gullet squeezing me. Her 
throat was starting to bulge out a bit. She had two thirds of my cock in 
her mouth and throat before she started backing me off this time. I 
thought she was going to pull me back out of her throat. She didn't.
     Instead, she suddenly rammed herself up at me. She took me as deep 
as before and then deeper, deeper, deeper -- but slower, and slower, and 
slower. She finally had to take her hand away from the base of my shaft, 
but because of how much it swells out there, she couldn't open her mouth 
wide enough to get more. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she 
tightened her throat around my cock and sucked a foot of my prick. I 
tried to warn her I was going to cum.
     She knew it, though, and then she did something I'd never heard of 
-- she slid one finger up my ass and began pressing something inside. My 
dick swelled up and she got a panicked lock in her face, and then I 
unloaded inside her. I really came hard, just pouring what felt like 
pints of my spunk into her hot throat. After about the fifth big spurt, 
she pulled her throat off me and sucked just the glans. She kept 
wiggling that finger up my butt and resumed jerking my shaft and Wham! 
there came another torrent. Her mouth opened around my prick and the 
stuff overflowed her lips even while she swallowed.
     She resumed sucking and never stopped jerking. I fired one more big 
load before spurting a half-dozen little ones, real fast. She swallowed 
about half of it. The rest was coating her lips and chin and throat and 
was staining her top. When she finally let my dick out of her mouth, her 
eyes were glazed and her nipples looked ready to pop right through that 
thin silk. She fell forward onto all fours and shook. The way her hips 
moved, I knew she was feeling something powerful.
     I thought my knees were going to give way. I backed away and let 
myself sit pretty heavily on one of the sectionals. My dick was still 
fat and long, but limber now and it hung over the edge of the cushion. 
She looked up and saw it and came over on hands and knees.
     "I love your cock," she whispered and kissed it. She licked her 
tongue under the glans and slowly sucked it back into her mouth. I 
groaned, feeling my balls start to fill up again. I wasn't sure I could 
take another orgasm like that too soon.
     "Let me give you a show, sailor boy." 

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