Renegade 30

by Lou Cameron

  She didn’t stop sucking. If anything, she was abusing his confused shaft even more wildly, and so, though it should have been at least a little softer right now, she was holding its full attention as she Eskimo-kissed her nose back and forth in his pubic hair with her throat muscles contracting around the throbbing head as he gasped, “Jesus, have mercy, Margo! I don’t want to come that way again. Let’s save some ammunition for the main event!”

  She answered with a moan from somewhere deeper in her throat as she swallowed the full length of his now fully aroused shaft as deep as it would go, with her lips pursed tightly around its roots and the base of her tongue wetly jerking him off while her throat muscles clamped tighter and tighter around his throbbing glans until, of course, he came that way again, even harder; and so, though he really had nothing to complain about, he growled, “This is crazy, querida. What the hell are you supposed to be getting out of this?”

  She swallowed, relaxed inside and slowly slid her still tightly pursed lips up and off his now semi-sated shaft with a sigh of vast contentment. Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, kissed the head of his dong fondly and said, “Oh, that felt lovely. Could you not tell I was coming too, Ricardo?”

  He propped himself up on one elbow to frown in confusion at her as he asked, “For Pete’s sake, how? Were you playing with your own clit or something just now?”

  She said, “I don’t have to. It is a feeling that ends up down there, but it begins in my throat, see?”

  “I don’t see how that could work. But it must, if weird little guys hanging around public restrooms know what they’re doing. I’ll be damned if I’ve ever been able to figure cocksucking out. But come to think of it, how would I be able to?”

  He laughed wryly as he thought back to the uneasy conversation he’d had earlier that same evening with the late Señorito Romero. But then he sobered as quickly, because it wasn’t really funny to toss people overboard and because Margo was looking hurt as she sat upright beside him, holding that dumb fan in front of her face again. He said, “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at me. You’ve got me sort of confused, querida. You see, I’m usually the one who does all the work and … No shit, can you really come with your throat?”

  She smiled down at him, with her teeth back in again—thanks to her fandango flutterings with that otherwise pointless fan—and then she replied, “I just did. Would you like for to fuck me now? I am most grateful for the way you indulged my real lusts, Ricardo.”

  He grinned and said, “This I gotta see!” Although, in truth, he really had feelings more than sights in mind. But the view was sort of inspiring too, as without further ado, Margo lay back and spread her shapely pale thighs in welcome as he rolled up on his hands and knees to crawl into position above her. Her face was still only so-so, even with her false teeth back in place; but she wasn’t really ugly, and from the neck down she was really beautiful.

  He lowered his larger body down against her shapely torso and noted how her firm ivory breasts seemed to fit just right between them as he reached down and fumbled his semi-erection in position to enter her right, for the first time. It wasn’t easy. Even if he’d been fully erect, Margo had a surprisingly tight snatch for a lady with gray streaks in her hair, all over.

  She braced her bare heels against the mattress and thrust her pelvis up at a more helpful angle as, at the same time, she wrapped her soft, smooth arms up around him and pulled him closer for what was, come to think of it, their very first kiss.

  That did it. The mingled feelings of desire and revulsion sprang his bemused virile member almost fully erect again as he couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to kiss her with her false teeth out; if she’d take them out if he asked; and why on earth a guy would want to ask such a thing of a nice old lady!

  He didn’t. It seemed less important as he slowly worked it into her vagina far enough to, yeah, thrust it in deep enough to stay put, and, oh yes, her real thing was even better than he’d expected!

  But as he started to move in her, Margo just seemed to be taking it, with neither reluctance nor enthusiasm. He stopped—leaving it in, of course—to ask, “Would some aspirin powders help? I think I have some in my kit bag under the bunk.”

  She sighed and said, “I am trying for to respond to you this way, Ricardo. Just do it. Do not worry about trying for to please me this way. I assure you I do not mind.”

  “Oh gee, thanks. It really inspires a guy to hear the lady he’s laying couldn’t care less, either way.”

  “Do not be angry, Ricardo. It is not my fault, any more than it is your own, eh? I like you very much. I wish to give you as much pleasure as you just gave me. So go ahead and come in me this way. I wish for you to come in me this way.”

  “Just for old time’s sake, eh? I think we’d better talk about this, Margo. I don’t usually like to discuss a lady’s past with her while I’m getting to be part of it, but, no shit, you did say you were married one time, didn’t you?”

  “Si, my late husband never knew. It would have been cruel to tell him I felt nothing at all when he made love to me this way. He was much older than me, most old fashioned in every way, and he just would not have understood.”

  “You’re probably right. I sure don’t! How the hell did you find out you really like oral sex better? Friendly neighbors?”

  “Oh no, my husband would have killed me! I have never, never made love to anyone else while my husband lived, and oh, Ricardo, it took him ever so long for to die!”

  “You both must have been relieved. But, okay, if you didn’t take your late husband in the head and you didn’t have a lover on the side, where did you find out you were a born sucker-offer?”

  She sighed and said, “It is a long story, and you would not understand, Ricardo.”

  “Try me. I’m a naturally curious guy, and, hell, I really want to understand you better, Margo.”

  “I like you very much, too. But if you do not intend for to fuck me, and you do not seem to be doing so right now, would you like to take it out now?”

  He thrust deeper and shook his head as he said, “It feels fine where it is. Who broke you in the other way?”

  She covered her face with her dumb fan again as she murmured, “I swore never to tell. But he has been dead, too, for many years, and, oh Ricardo, how was I to know at the age of twelve what a sin we were committing in the eyes of the church?”

  He grimaced and said, “Oboy, are we talking about playing doctor with the boy next door or the usual older friend of the family?”

  She giggled, blushed and asked, “What do you know about seducing the daughters of your friends, Ricardo?” He said, “Not much. I don’t shoot fish in a barrel, either. But you’d be surprised how many girls tell the same story about dear old Uncle Juaquin.”

  She sighed and said, “In this case it was a padre, not a tío. Not my real father, of course; my father confessor, at the church down the calle. You see, I confessed to him one day that I had learned how for to play with myself and that I could not stop no matter how many Hail Marias I said, so …”

  “So, right, the saintly old pervert warned you little girls could go bananas playing with themselves and that if you couldn’t stop masturbating, it was his Christian duty to show you the light. Did he lay you, too?”

  “Oh heavens, no! As he explained, that would have been a sin for a celebrate priest, so—”

  “I get the picture,” he cut in, utterly disgusted with a man he’d never know and would never get to punch out, now. He said, “I don’t know all that much about that psycho-whatever those docs in Vienna have been talking about lately, but I can see how a shy, confused and sexually excited young virgin could come almost any way with a grown man’s wanger. So what happened after you got to sucking off at confession a lot, Margo?”

  She shrugged (it made her nipples tickle his chest), and said, “I grew up and got married, of course. It was the custom in our village for a girl’s parents to tell h
er who she should marry. My late husband was not a bad man. I could have done worse. But he would not have understood my true desires, and so, until just now—”

  “Aw, come on!” he cut in with a snort of disbelief, adding; “No offense, but you haven’t been twelve for some time, Margo. Are you trying to tell me you haven’t had an orgasm once, in all this time?”

  She giggled again and said, “Well, a woman with needs does have ways to relieve herself. My late husband liked sausage. So he never questioned why we had it so often.”

  Captain Gringo didn’t want to even think about how a hard-up cocksucker masturbated with a sausage; and since, meanwhile, his curiosity was satisfied and his own cock wasn’t, he started moving in Margo again. She asked blankly, “Oh, do you still wish to do that, Ricardo?”

  He growled, “I don’t. It does. If I had any self-respect I’d take it out. But the little basser will never forgive me if I let anything built as nice as you between the thighs get off easy!”

  She giggled again and even moved her hips a bit to help him as she said, “Oh well, in that case hurry up and come in me down there, querido. We would not wish for your delicioso virile member to go away angry, eh?”

  Captain Gringo grinned wryly and got down to business, consoling himself with the thought that at least he didn’t have to worry about waiting for a sex partner who wasn’t about to catch up no matter what he did. Her passive acceptance of what probably felt, at most, like a friendly back rub made it harder than usual to move with real inspiration or to even keep it hard as usual. He wondered, as what he was doing began to feel more like work than pleasure, what the hell he was doing. He didn’t have to prove anything to her. He knew she didn’t give a damn about what he was doing. He’d already enjoyed two damned fine orgasms with a dame he barely knew and would probably never see again. So was it really important that he finished in her right?

  He decided it was, every time he paused for breath and debated just rolling off and forgetting the whole deal. He was starting to sweat. He was getting winded. He was sure he was going to climax in her any minute now, but it seemed every time he got up to the edge, the goddamn feeling faded and he had to start all over. His common sense kept telling him to quit. His glands kept promising him they’d let him, if only they could have her this way one lousy little time.

  Margo must have noticed he was taking longer than any man should have, or probably ever had, in such a nice and tight little body. She said, “Heavens, you must like me more than I thought, querido! You are so big, so strong and so passionate!”

  “Sorry about that. I hope I’m not hurting you?”

  “Not really. I told you I do not mind it this way. But I do wish you would hurry and come, por favor, for in truth it is starting to fee ….strange. Does it help for me to move my hips more, like so?”

  “It doesn’t hurt. Could you, ah, sort of clamp down a little more, inside?”

  “I don’t know how, Ricardo.”

  “Sure you do. Just pretend you’ve just gone to the toilet, and tighten everything between your legs up the way you do when …Yeah, that’s it. Thanks. It really helps.”

  She gasped, “Oh, you feel so big in me this way! But I cannot keep it tight. I must let go and, grasp you again, and again, and, oh Ricardo! What is happeninggggggg?”

  He asked her what she thought was happening as he started to really let himself go, sure he was almost there for sure, at last. But the son-of-a-bitching shaft seemed to hang-fire forever as he pounded as hard and fast as he could, so Margo, for the first time in her not-at-all-short life, experienced her very first vaginal orgasm; and if they didn’t hear it up on the bridge, they just weren’t listening.

  He ejaculated in her orgasmic pulsations, fell limp atop her and gasped, “Jesus, keep it down to a roar! The whole ship will know what we’re doing in here if you scream every time you come!”

  She moaned, “I do not care! I do not care if the Pope in Rome hears I have just fucked, all the way, with my pussy at last!”

  He rolled off, fumbled for his shirt and got out a claro and some matches to enjoy a smoke while they either got their second winds or decided to fall asleep and the hell with it. But sleep was the last thing Margo had in mind right now, and she didn’t seem to want to wait for her second wind. So as Captain Gringo lay on his back with his head on the pillow, blowing smoke rings at the low overhead, Margo forked a shapely thigh across him and settled down to screw on top. It took some effort on her part to get it back in—after all it had already been in—but she was a persistent little thing and she looked so yummy, squirming around up there above him, that he was able to rise to the occasion enough, as long as she was willing to do all the work.

  Neither of them would have enjoyed their protracted orgy as much, that night, had they been privy to a conversation that was taking place on the bridge above them at the same time. The old Scotch skipper didn’t allow talking on the bridge unless it was important. So even the Cuban helmsman at the wheel was listening with interest as the mate said, “That Costa Rican fairy’s not in his bunk after all, sir. I jimmied one of the slats in the door vent as you ordered, and despite the Don’t Disturb, his stateroom’s empty!”

  The skipper nodded and said, “Ay, I knew something was up when the deck watch didna’ hear a peep out of the wee beastie all this time. For if there’s one thing I ken about screaming faggots, it’s that they scream overmuch in bed wi’ man or beast. Where do you mind the queerlegged creature can be if he’s not in his bunk?”

  The mate said, “Well, if he’s not overboard he has to be shacked up somewhere else on the ship, Skipper.”

  “Och, tell me something I dinna ken, Mon! They say Romero was buttering up to that tall blond Yank earlier this nicht. Ye’ve checked his door vents out, of course?”

  The mate chuckled and replied, “Ay ay, sir, and if there’s one thing that banana broker is not, it’s queer. You know those two Costa Rican widows who’ve steamed up and down the coast with us before?”

  “Ay, but they’ve never been ones for mucking with the men on board. So don’t tell me either’s with that big Yank young enough to be their wee bairn!”

  The mate laughed outright this time and said, “I just did, sir. I couldn’t tell whether the old bag was fucking him or giving birth to him just now, but he was in her box one way or another, and she sure looks different with her duds off!”

  The skipper allowed himself a frosty smile as he said, “Wonders never cease along the Mosquito Coast. Which sister puts out?”

  “Both of them, Skipper. That little Frenchman calling himself ‘Fontleroy’ was with the older sister when I peeked through the slats just now, and that was really comical! It seems to be true what they say about Frenchmen, but, Jesus, she’s so old and ugly!”

  The skipper grimaced and said, “At least the wee froggy’s with a female of the species. So we can forget about at least four of the passengers. But that wee fruitie Romero has to be with at least one other, damn it, and if it’s one thing I won’t stand for on this vessel it’s out-and-out sodomy. So get back to work and find out whose bunk Romero’s snuck into, damn it.”

  The mate shrugged and answered, “I’m running out of places to look, sir. He doesn’t seem to be with any of the other passengers, and if he was up in the fo’ci’sle I’d have heard about it by now. It’s hard to keep news of a gangbang on board from getting around when the crew doesn’t have private bunks—”

  “Och, I’ll have no talk of the crew involved with yon faggot even if they are!” the skipper cut in, adding; “Romero’s nae worth the powder to blow him to fairyland, but his family is too important for a wee steamship line to cross! Gae look for him some more. He may be in one of the lifeboats looking for the soap, or, och, even doon in the hold making someone happy among the cargo cases. But make sure he’s still aboard, and report back to me as soon as ye do.”

  “And if he’s not on board at all, sir?”

  “We’ll just have to turn someone
in for pushing him overboard, of course. We canna have the damned police in any port poking about for wee clues aboard this ship, Mister. The trouble with police is that they sometimes poke their noses into places a businessmon in our line of business may nae want ’em poking! Och, must I draw ye a picture, Mon? Ye ken as well as me our bills of lading don’t always match the cargo we unlade hither and yon too closely.”

  The mate smiled thinly and said, “That’s for sure, Skipper. But how are we to hang a missing pansy on one of the other passengers if they’re all behaving themselves in their own quarters right now?”

  The skipper sighed and muttered, “Och, the daft lad does need pictures on the chalkboard! Did ye nae just tell me all our passengers are alone, separately, or at least no more than two to a stateroom at the moment?”

  “Yessir, and none of them are with the missing pansy.”

  “Och, Laddy, Laddy, who’s to say whether that could be true or nae? Do we look like men who peek through vents at nicht? We’ll be putting into Mission Bay in the morning. Give the wee Romano till then to turn up. If he hasn’t we’ll report him missing to the British constabulary there.”

  “But won’t that mean a full investigation team of British lawmen coming aboard, sir?”

  “It would if we couldn’t tell them who we saw push the wee fairy over the side, Mon. But why should even a colonial copper muck about in a stuffy hot hold when he’s been told by honest ship’s officers who to arrest for the dark deed?”