I wonder if he has a girlfriend. I wonder why a guy like him can’t get his dick sucked any time he wants, but this isn’t the time to ask. I put my lips around his cockhead, pushing back the foreskin, then suck Karl all the way into my mouth. He puts his hand on the back of my head and pushes me into his bushy crotch. I use my throat muscles to massage the swollen flesh.
“Mmm,” he says, and, to my surprise he begins to stroke my head, bringing his hand to my face, softly touching my cheek, down to where my mouth engulfs his cock. I reach up to the unseen hula girl, my hand brushing St Christopher. I know it’s only my imagination, but I can feel the ink on his skin, the dream of Hawaii, a place he’s never been, I’ve never been. A dream. I can feel the palm trees sway. Stupid.
I’m really enjoying myself, sucking this beautiful, presumably heterosexual young sailor’s beautiful young cock. I know, from his thrusting and groaning, that Karl is enjoying it too. Artie Shaw has finished playing. There’s a silence inside the apartment, broken only by Karl’s moans and the slurp of my mouth on his dick. I shut my eyes and see the hula girl.
And then, without a word of warning, he shoots his load, salty as the Pacific, abrupt as a storm at sea. Or something.
“Gol durn,” he says, suddenly all cornpone, “it’s been a good long while since anybody’s done that to me.” He doesn’t seem to care that I’m still fully dressed, my hard-on bulging, in need of attention. And I’m not about to press the point.
“Glad to be of service to one of our boys in uniform,” I say. “Just think of me as the U.S.O.”
He helps me off my knees. We stand there face to face, everything somewhat awkward. He hasn’t even pulled his pants up yet. I look into his blue eyes and I see something unexpected, something that looks like a vulnerable kid. But then, that’s what he is, right? A vulnerable kid who’s just spilled his jism down my throat.
What happens next is a real surprise. He throws his arms around me. Damned if he doesn’t throw his arms around me. I stand there not knowing what to do. After a long few seconds, I put my hand on his shoulder, tentatively.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his face snuggled into my neck, “I don’t usually act this way. I’m just a little sad about sailing off to Hawaii. It’s the first Thanksgiving I won’t be spending with my family.” He lets go and steps back a little. I can see the beginnings of tears in his eyes.
“It’s all right,” I tell him. I bend over and plant a kiss on the hula-hula girl. When I look up he’s smiling, but one teardrop has escaped down his cheek. “You’re just tired, is all, Karl. You want to take a nap for real?”
He nods. Within a minute, he’s pulled his undershorts back on, leaving the rest of his clothes off. I strip off my shirt. “Mind if I join you in bed?” I ask.
He shakes his head no and lies down on my mattress. I go to the record player and put on a Billie Holiday song. Jesus, that woman can sing. We lie there, side by side, not touching. Within a few minutes, he’s asleep. He rolls onto his side and throws his arm across me. My unruly cock, which had gone dormant, swells up again. I put my arm around his shoulders and draw him toward me. He nuzzles up against me. I can feel his breath on my chest. It’s been a long night. I pull down the blanket far enough to see the hula girl. She looks happy. I fall asleep.
When I come to, the light against the window shade tells me it’s early afternoon. Karl has unzipped my pants and my hard cock is in his hand. The boy is full of surprises. It doesn’t take much for me to come. I shoot all over: my chest, my belly, some on my pants. His dick is hard, sticking out of his boxer shots. I kiss his neck, move down over his chest, lick his tattoo, his navel, the waistband of his underwear, take his cock in my mouth, and suck on it till he lets me taste him again.
He wipes himself off with my sheet, gets up, and starts putting on his uniform. He’s fully dressed before he speaks.
“Thanks,” he says. “Thanks a lot.”
“My pleasure.”
“I gotta be going.”
“Make her dance for me,” I say. “Make her dance one more time.” He pulls up his shirt and the hula girl shakes her hips.
“So you’ll take care of yourself, Karl?”
“Yeah,” he says, “I will. Don’t worry ’bout me.”
He’s at the door.
“Lenny, I really think you should get a tattoo. A tattoo like mine. Hula girl.”
And then he’s gone.
Aloha, I think. It’s the only Hawaiian word I know.
Less than a month later the Japs bomb Pearl Harbor. As far as I can remember, Karl was due to be stationed on the USS Arizona. I read the lists of the dead. There are a few Karls, but only one’s last name rings a bell. Must be him.
I make a decision. Two decisions, actually. I decide to enlist, but before that, there’s something else I have to do. One afternoon I come back to the apartment with a hula girl tattooed on my chest. It heals up quick. As soon as it – she – is ready, I stand in front of the mirror in my cheap apartment on the edge of the sea. A hula-hula girl. Permanent. I flex my chest. She dances for me.
Pennsylvania Hotel, 7th Avenue, New York
Lisette Ashton
“. . . and in the red corner,
weighing in at ninety-eight pounds . . .”
She stepped out of the en-suite, freshly showered and dressed only in the exotic lingerie. The stockings encased her legs and the black bands at their tops pinched the meaty flesh of her thighs. A clinging balconette pronounced her cleavage and, from behind, the matching thong exposed her round, firm buttocks.
“. . . and tonight’s challenger, wearing the very, very black shorts . . .”
He came out from the walk-in wardrobe, naked save for the shorts. His arousal pushed at the button fly, proudly declaring his impressive size. His broad grin and gleaming eyes showed his anticipation mirrored hers.
“. . . tonight’s match has been a long time coming for this pair. They’ve both been playing on the same circuit for a while yet they’ve never had a chance to get face to face. Usually they’re tagged with regular partners but I think they’ve both been angling for the opportunity to go one on one with each other. This will be the first time they’ve come head-to-head and it looks like they’ll be venting some of the tension that’s built over the previous months . . .”
It felt natural to fall into the position.
He climbed onto the bed from his corner of the room. She followed suit and they lay nose to tail. His hand stroked against her bare arm: a light caress that was charged with so much electricity the air almost crackled. She stroked her fingers through the wiry hairs that covered his chest, following the trail downward, over his washboard stomach, and daringly toward the stark band of his shorts. He leant closer, plying her with kisses – gentle pecks to her side, hips and thighs – before nuzzling his face against the crotch of her pants.
“Restraints?” he murmured curiously.
Momentarily disoriented, she glanced where he was pointing and saw he had noticed one of the straps fastened to the bed’s corner-posts. It was almost instinctive to lie, and tell him that Pennsylvania attached wrist-cuffs to all their beds, but she knew he would see through such an obvious falsehood. Blushing prudishly she said, “I occasionally like to experiment with bondage.” She hoped her careful phrasing would tell him that this wasn’t going to be one of those occasions. He seemed to understand because he nodded to show the matter was dismissed and returned his attention back to delivering intimate kisses.
“. . . but this is the behaviour we expect from players of this calibre. They’re weighing one another up, looking for soft spots and areas to attack, before committing themselves to a definite course of action . . .”
Boldly, she traced the shape of his bulge. The pulsing shaft pushed against the straining fabric and trembled beneath her inquisitive caress. Easing the buttons open she was rewarded by the first glimpse of his rigid erection. The length came as no surprise but when she saw his thickness – and saw his d
usky glans was already leaking a glistening stream of pre-come – her arousal began to burn. With growing confidence she pushed her face closer and began to slide her body over his. Unfastening one more button, she allowed his erection to force its way out of the shorts and hover tantalisingly close to her mouth. Hungry to taste him, she placed a leg on either side of his chest, positioned herself over him, and lowered her face.
“. . . and already the challenger is pinned to canvas. The champion has felled many good opponents with an early fall but I never thought I’d see one floored as quickly as this . . .”
She placed her lips around his end and sucked.
Beneath her he groaned, then raised his head. The weight of his nose brushed her gusset – another charge of electric contact seared her sensitive flesh – and then he was taking her in a clumsy, awkward embrace. His head shook from side to side, almost as though he was refusing the pleasure. The tops of her inner thighs were tickled by his fringe and she glanced down to see if he was making an unspoken complaint. It was only when she saw he had nuzzled the crotch of her thong to one side that she realised what he was doing.
His tongue teased against the split of her sex and she was buffeted by a rush of delicious pleasure. The folds of her labia melted open for him and she writhed and bucked with a greedy need to feel more. She had forgotten the end she was licking and arched her back to make it easier for her body to accept the mounting joy.
Confidently, he guided her to lie back on the bed, and put his body over hers.
“. . . an unexpected turnaround with the challenger changing positions on the champion. This has all the makings of a long-fought match and I don’t think victory will be easy for either side . . .”
His shaft hovered inches from her nose and she tried lifting her head so she could savour the sweet taste of his length. Yet, each time she made an attempt to move, his tongue flicked against her sex and she was crippled by a further rush of pleasure. With practised skill he tormented her clitoris, teased the sensitive flesh of her pussy lips, then plunged his tongue inside her wet, eager hole. Ripples of intensifying joy eddied from her groin and left her dizzy with burgeoning desire. Her flesh was filmed with perspiration and every frisson of skin-touching-skin was lubricated by their mingling sweat.
“. . . a lot of people say these matches are faked but I don’t think the best actor in the world could recreate the passion we’re seeing here tonight . . .”
Unable to cope with any more teasing, knowing her body couldn’t stand the foreplay for a moment longer, she pushed him away. His grin was a challenge and, as she pressed her body against him, she knew her smile was just as broad. When they kissed she could taste the dewy reminder of her arousal on his lips and tongue. It was an intimate flavour that heightened her need for him and made each provocative caress so much more exquisite.
They writhed together as he ably removed her bra before lowering his mouth to the tip of one breast. The nipple was seared as his teeth nibbled gently and she trembled while the bolts of pleasure shivered through her frame.
She reached down for his erection and stroked the hardness. The length was still poking through the fly of his shorts and she pushed her hand inside so she could stroke his sac. His shaft trembled with growing arousal and she relished the knowledge that she was the source of his excitement.
“. . . the challenger looks like he’s faltering but I’ve seen this boy in action before and I know he can surprise his opponent with unexpected moves . . .”
With no warning he was on top of her and his muscular body crushed against hers. Reaching between their hips, he pulled the flimsy crotch of her thong aside and pressed his glans over the yielding lips of her sex. For an instant he held himself still as if savouring the pleasure that was about to come. It was only when she was on the verge of screaming for him to push forward that he finally relented and entered her. Her inner muscles were forced apart as his thick length buried itself deep in her wetness.
Unable to contain the reaction, her jubilant screams echoed from the bedroom walls as she thrashed happily beneath him.
“. . . in all my years of broadcasting I’ve never heard a champion cry out like that and I wonder if tonight’s result might prove itself a surprise to those who were predicting an easy triumph for the title holder . . .”
She raised her hips to meet every thrust, squeezing her inner muscles as though trying to wring the pleasure from him. His erection continued to plunge in and out with a measured pace that easily matched the definite tempo of her own arousal. She clawed fistfuls of the bed linen, unwilling to rake her nails against his back but needing to expend the swell of excess energy in some way. Remembering the restraints that hung from the corner posts, she grabbed a loop with each hand and strained as she pulled on them.
“. . . and the champion is holding the ropes yet still the challenger is pounding and pounding . . .”
He continued pounding and pounding, occasionally lowering his face so he could surprise her with a kiss or dart his tongue against her breasts. Caught up in a torrent of mounting pleasure, sure swift and sudden release were inevitable, she railed from side to side. The blistering joy of orgasm was so close she could almost taste its bittersweet flavour when he pulled himself from her sex. The withdrawal left her feeling empty and hollow and she stared at him with unconcealed confusion.
His smile remained broad.
“. . . it looks like the challenger isn’t as predictable as the champion thought . . .”
She stared up at him, bewildered, and with her doubts only slightly assuaged by his obvious confidence. Licking one finger, he pushed it between her legs and touched the puckered ring of her anus. Gently, with more sensitivity than she expected, he began to ease it inside. Knowing what he was proposing, already anxious to experience the forbidden thrill he was silently suggesting, she nodded eager acquiescence. The muscles of her sphincter relaxed for him and the thick digit pushed easily inside. When he pulled his finger free, she reached for his shaft and placed the tip of his glans over her forbidden hole. Steeling herself for the combination of pleasure and pain she gritted her teeth and wallowed in the dark delight of his slow, deliberate penetration.
“. . . that has to be an illegal move. I don’t know why this match wasn’t stopped then and there but it looks like it’s going to continue even though neither player is showing proper respect for the established rules . . .”
Her body had been filmed in sweat before but now it was drenched.
They changed positions – her lying face down on the bed, him kneeling behind – making it easier for him to continue riding in and out of her anus while she toyed with her clitoris. Every nerve ending had become taut with the tension of encroaching orgasm and her tremors were so exaggerated they trembled through the bed frame. The sweet release she had anticipated now promised to be something infinitely more powerful and she struggled harder to reach that goal. His length remained gloriously hard inside the tight confines of her backside and she hurried to reach the climax her body craved.
“. . . the exertion of this bout is beginning to take its toll on both parties yet neither shows any signs of relenting . . .”
“I’m coming,” she gasped.
He placed a hand on the small of her back and lowered his mouth to her ear. “Hold on for a moment,” he said, lowering his other hand between her legs. “This might make the pleasure better.”
She could feel two fingers pushing against the wet folds of her sex and struggled to relax so he could ease them inside. With infinite care he slipped them between her sodden labia and she was stung by the joy of having both holes simultaneously filled. The richness of the moment threatened to be too much and she was unable to tell whether the excess pleasure was being forced from the length that nestled inside her backside or the pair of squirming fingers that rubbed the inner walls of her pussy.
“. . . the champion can’t take much more of this treatment . . .”
Knowing that she wanted
them to share their release, unwilling to let him force the climax from her without some reciprocal show, she reached between his legs and cupped the tight sac of his scrotum.
“. . . and the champion has gone for the characteristic choke hold . . .”
Kneading gently but firmly, savouring her pleasure as he struggled to contain his response, she alternated pressure between a firm hold and a punishing squeeze. His fingers continued to squirm inside her pussy; while his shaft repeatedly rode in and out of her rear; her inner muscles were squeezed from both sides.
“Almost there,” he grunted.
Gritting her teeth, not wanting to waste energy on useless conversation, she silently agreed with him. They were both close to orgasm and she knew it would take only the slightest lapse in concentration before one of them relented and gave in to the siren call of release. But she was determined to prolong the pleasure for as long as she was able. No longer playing with her clitoris, she reached out for the steadying support of the restraints.
“. . . and it looks like the champion is trying to get a hold on the ropes but I don’t think the challenger will allow that . . .”
He pulled her back onto his thickness.
She squealed with raw delight and felt the first pre-climactic tremors convulse through her pussy. The pleasure was enormous and she knew the orgasm was going to be a euphoria of blessed release. Anticipating the moment, teetering between a need for climax and a determination to delay for as long as possible, she continued stretching and trying to reach for the restraints.
“. . . the champion’s hand hovers over the canvas, and I’m sure submission is inevitable . . .”
His eruption pulsed thickly inside her. He pushed his fingers deeper and, in spite of the fact that she was clutching the base of his shaft, his length continued to spurt again and again. She shrieked with joy as the waves of pleasure washed over her and, eventually, she sank into the sheet sobbing gratefully and wallowing in the blissful aftermath of the receding orgasm.
The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 6 Page 17
