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Archive-name: First/furlouh2.txt


Archive-title: Furlough - 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, 



     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. 


     "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 


     "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 


     "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, 


     "I'm looking forward to it, ma'am."

     "Good, because I am looking forward to accommodating you. Good-


     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 


     "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."


     "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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