My Second Piece of Ass Ch. 04

As promised, Laura called me every night during my last three weeks at the stateside base, always at eight p.m., always for 15 minutes. We talked about everything.

“Have your toe nails grown out?” she asked one night.

“What?”

“You cut them too short, I noticed the nail on your pinkie was cut to the quick. Remember? You were doing me with your big toe and I saw how short your nails are.”

“Laura, I didn’t ‘do you’ with my big toe, it must have been someone else. You must be dreaming.”

“That must be it. I dream of you doing me all the time.”

I told her of the rounds I was making in preparation to go overseas. There was a checklist to be signed off, records to collect, a stop at payroll and shots for every disease imaginable.

We made plans to spend three days together after I had signed out on leave. I would delay my trip home and Laura would come to meet me even though it was not the end of the month, her usual R & R.

“I’m going to be good to you,” she said on the phone one night.

“You have been very good to me. I’ll be good to you too.”

“I’ll be especially good to you, you’ll see,” she said, a haunting spasm to her voice that sent a chill up my spine. Each of our conversations ended, “You are my R & R.”

Our last three days together was a disaster. I knew something was wrong by the way she was dressed in a scanty skirt and halter. She was Tess.

“Drop your pants and show me you cock,” she said as soon as we were in the room. Nothing like this had happened before. ‘Even a postman doesn’t take a walk on his day off,’ she had always said.

“Laura,” I said, making no move to comply.

“Show me your cock,” she repeated. “A straight fuck in 10 dollars, suck and fuck is 25, around the world is 50, what will it be?”

“Laura, we’re not going to do this, damn it.”

“Call me Tess, that’s my name,” she said, unbuckling my belt and lowering my pants. She snaked my cock out of my shorts, wiggled it around in her hand and said, “short horn.”

I reached for my pants, she pushed me on the bed and pulled them off, then reached for my shorts. I lifted my butt to accommodate her and saw that look of accomplishment come over her face. She found my wallet and opened it.

“Twenty-five, suck and fuck, is that what you want, mister?” She was removing her own clothes.

“Laura, you’ve got to stop this,” I pleaded.

“Look mister, when you hear a knock on the door it’s over, whether I’m done with you or not.”

Suddenly, my cock was in her mouth. She watched me as she sucked, slurping, moaning, pretending. I can honestly say that I could not enjoy what she was doing.

Then she was on top of me, bouncing like the jumping jack, balancing herself with one hand on my chest, which was still covered by my shirt. I saw the hard determination on her face and the glint in her eyes when she brought me off, early.

“How about a drink, mister?” She poured scotch into two glasses and handed one of them to me. “Me and this other girl had a trailer on the outskirts of this town...,” she began.

“Laura, you’re going to have to stop this,” I said, taking a long slug of straight scotch.

“Her name was Karen. She had a drug problem, I didn’t know how bad it was..”

“Laura, damn it, I’m not going to listen to this.”

She threw back the remaining liquid in her glass and looked at me as if to say, ‘really?’

I watched her pick up my wallet again, knowing there was only 15 dollars left. Having sold my car, I had bought a rail ticket and put the rest of my money in travelers checks, thinking that if I needed more cash I could always use one or more of them.

“You’ve got enough for a straight fuck here buddy, is that what you want, mister?

She stepped to the bed and lay on her back, opening her legs wide. “Fuck me, mister,” she said, fingering her cunt, smiling, a distant look on her face.

I watched her, sadly, I drained my glass and got up to find a place to set it down.

“Come on mister, fuck me before the knock on the door comes.”

I turned back to her. She was in the same position. She mouthed, ‘come on.’

Reluctantly, I took off my shirt got between her legs. She reached out and tugged me to her, inserting my cock and pulling me in with her legs around me.

“Fuck me mister,” she ordered, “fuck me.” I did.

“You can do better than that, come on mister, come.....” she began to cry. Deep sobs, tears covering her face, uncontrollable shudders, quiet weeping. I stopped thrusting and bent to bring my cheek to hers. I tried to console her, whispering, ‘it’s okay, it’s okay, please honey, don’t cry, it’s okay.’

We were still joined but I had lost my erection. She put her arms around me and cried, her body shaking. I cradled her head in my hands, kissing her damp cheeks. She begin to hum, her hands stopped moving on my back. She relaxed, the humming stopped and I could tell she was asleep. I cover her naked body, got up and mixed myself another drink.

We walked the same streets as before and looked into shop windows. Neither of us had an inclination to shop. Laura molded her body to me at times, relishing the closeness but at other times she refused to be touched, keeping me at bay.

We slept in the same bed without having sex. We talked of world news but nothing personal, nothing about our times together or of the separation which was rapidly approaching. Not even on our last night together.

“I want to give you something special,” It was Laura, naked, wearing only the gold chain that I had given her. She undressed me and laid me on my back. We kissed, her tits bouncing on my chest, my cock growing. She moved down to my nipples, flicking each several times before blowing on my stomach, sending chills up my spine. She blew on my pubic hair, then kissed my balls, taking one in her mouth, sucking, then the other. She looked up at me, smiling, drawing the loose skin of one of my balls out and letting it go, grinning up at me. She circled the base of my cock with her tongue, then licked all the way up the underside to circle the bulb, still watching me, spellbound. I was mesmerized.

Suddenly, she engulfed me, taking me deep, moving slowly on the way up, sucking, going deep I felt the back of her throat, back up, slowly, sucking. She watched me, repeating these actions, stopping to smile, only to take me deep again.

I don’t know how long this went on, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. I touched her shoulder to signal that I was close. She paid no attention, I think she knew. My eruption made me jump, jump again and wither. When I awoke I was covered. Laura was not in the room. I checked the bathroom. She was not there either. I panicked.

I dressed, throwing on the clothes I had been wearing. Laura’s clothes, white pants, a flowered blouse, panties and bra, were there on the floor where she had discarded them. I checked her closet. Missing was a dress that I had seen her unpack. I remembered that it was black satin with a low cut neckline, uncharacteristic for Laura to wear on our R & Rs. ‘Shoe’s,’ I thought. Her white sneaker were there and a pair of sandals. I couldn’t remember if she had unpacked other shoes. Where would she go?

I found her in the first place I checked, the hotel bar. The place was packed. A female was playing the piano and singing. Laura, surrounded by three men, was laughing, loudly. She was wearing the black low-cut dress, showing allot of cleavage and, the gold necklace. With high heals she was about 5’5” while the guys around her were all six feet and taller. Her tits looked as if they would pop out of the dress, making the guys very horny, and protective of their prey.

“What do you want?” one of them said as I approached and stood just behind Laura.

“I came to get my sister,” I said to the guy. Laura turned, a surprised look on her face.

“Randy, what are you doing here? I thought you would sleep all night,” then to the three men, “I gave him the best blow-job he’s ever had, he was passed out with a smile on his face when I left him, weren’t you sugar?” she said, patting me on the cheek.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep?” one of the guys said, putting an arm around Laura’s shoulder. She didn’t seem to mind.

“Let’s go,” I said, taking one of her hands. She took a drink and shook her head, “not ready to go.”

“Hear that? she’s not ready to go,” said the balding heavy guy to her left.

“Yeah, she’s not going anyplace, now get lost,” the third guy said.

I felt a knot in my neck, I was getting very tense. They were all big guys. A little drunk, but big.

“You got yours, now go away so we can get ours,” the guy with his arm around Laura said.

I was outnumber and Laura was in one of her moods, very uncooperative. Any one of them would injure me if I stood up to him, all three of them together would do serious harm.

“It’ll cost you,” I said, loud enough for there to be no mistake, loud enough for all three to hear me, loud enough for the bar tender to hear.

“What?” the tall guy to my left said. Laura was looking at me, fire in her eyes, her face distorted in disbelief.

“What are you talking about?” said the third guy.

“Fifty buck each, is that what you would say, Tess?

She was on me, fists beating on my head, screaming at me, calling me names. I did nothing to defend myself. All three of the men were trying to pull her from me.

“Break it up!” a voice behind them said. Then louder, “Break it up!”

The three men turned but Laura didn’t stop calling me names and pounding on me. I could see it was the bartender. He was on our side of the bar, holding a club, gripping it with both hands, ready to swing. Another bar tender had come to that end of the bar. Exhausted, Laura cried and wilted. I took her in my arms.

“Get her out of here you little pimp,” the bartender said to me.

“He’s not a pimp,” Laura said, but only softly, in my ear. She had slumped into my arms, ‘he’s not a pimp, he’s not a pimp.”

We left the bar, me supporting her, walking past the other patrons and then through the lobby to the elevator, curious eyes upon us.

I helped her undress and get into her long nightgown. She went to sleep immediately, makeup smeared and the gold chain still around her neck. I removed my clothes and crawled into the bed beside her.

“Randy,” I heard her say. She was shaking me, “Randy, wake up.”

I opened my eyes and groggily looked at her. “What? what?” I asked sleepily.

“It’s time to get up.” She was naked. Her hair had been brushed and her face washed clean of the makeup.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know but it’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“I have to leave but first I want to give you something.”

It was 2:33 a.m. She had turned on all the lights in the room. “How come all the lights are on? I asked, going to the bathroom to throw cold water on my face. If she was leaving I wanted to see her off. I wanted to tell her things.

“I want you to watch us in the mirror,” she said, answering, I would come to understand much later, my question about the lights being on.

She came to me, taking me in her arms and kissing me, a mixture of mouth wash and stale scotch on her breath. “I’m going to do something with you that I’ve never done before, it will be my gift to you. I want you to remember me.”

“Laura, honey, I won’t forget you. There’s nothing you could do that.....” It dawned on me what she was talking about doing for me. “No, you don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I’ve thought about this and I want to do it. It’s settled, I’ve decided.”

“You did something special last night and look how much trouble that brought us,” I argued. I assumed she thought she was going to take me up the butt. I also assumed, had assumed, that she had been fucked in the anus at some point in her past. It was not something I had given much thought to.

She had my balls in her hand, rolling them between her fingers, decidedly making her point. “I cleaned up for this. We’re going to do it and you will like it, you will.”

“Can’t we just fuck like normal people? If you really have to go I’d like to fuck you one last time.”

“You will be fucking me, don’t you understand?”

She reached over to the night stand and picked up a tube of K Y jelly. “Grease me up while I get you ready,” she said, bending over to take me in her mouth. It was a new tube. I had no idea what I was doing. I deposited a generous amount of jelly around her ass hole, then shoved some into her little hole with my forefinger, startling Laura. She jumped and looked up at me.

“Play with it, make love to it, rub my little hole,” she said, then moaned as she returned to administer to my cock, making my cock harder.

I wondered if she was really a virgin there. I spread her cheeks apart and move my thumb around her hole. Dabbing more jelly on my third finger, I eased it in her butt, slowly, looking for a reaction from Laura or Tess or whoever this was bending over with my dick in her mouth.

“That feels good, do it some more,” I heard her say. It was Laura.

More jelly, more pressure. I rotated my finger. It felt very tight. I wondered how my cock would ever fit. But she knew the size of my cock and must have considered if it would fit. I increased the speed and pressure, rotating my finger with each plunge.

Laura decided we were ready. Getting into position, she squatted down on the side of the bed and bent forward. With me standing next the bed, she directed me. “Put it in my cunt first, just to get some juice.”

I did as she wanted. Easing in to her vagina and holding still, feeling her play with me, milking. “Can’t we just do this?” I asked, feeling her squeeze me.

“NO!” she said, the milking had stopped. “Can you see what we’re doing?”

“Sure,” I said, looking down at her ass.

“Look in the mirror. See what we are doing, look at us.”

Her small body was low to the bed, her ass in the air, waiting to receive me, my frame at attention behind her, tentative, uncertain.

I placed the head of my cock at her little entrance and pushed forward, nothing, it wouldn’t budge. “Push,” I heard Laura say.

I put some weight behind it and tried again. “Push,” she said.

Impatient to get it over with, I buried the head within her. Laura’s head popped up and there was a small gasp. “Push,” she said louder.

I felt her brace herself, pushing backward as I eased farther into her. I watched her grab the sheets on my next push, she was holding her own. I eased back and shoved forward, hearing Laura say, ‘ah.’ “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Push,” she answered.

Back, forward, back, forward, I was in about three inches. Back, forward.

“Look at us in the mirror,” Laura was saying.

“Cool,” I said. Her face was distorted but she was smiling at me in the mirror.

“Honey,” she groaned. I stopped, thinking something was wrong.

“Don’t’ stop, don’t stop,” she said sternly. I reacted with several short thrusts, working up steam to push deeper.

“Honey?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t be alarmed, Okay? Don’t be alarmed if I start saying things, okay?”

“Sure, I like it when you talk during sex.”

“Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:”

I was fucking her in the ass and she was quoting Juliet.

“And yet no further than a wanton’s bird”

Her ass was still tight but we had established a rhythm.

“Who lets it hop a little from her hand,”

She allowed each thrust to push her forward but reset herself on each backstroke

“Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,”

I looked in the mirror. Laura was gripping the sheets, talking to herself, watching me watch her.

“She with a silk thread plucks it back again,”

I held onto her hips and helped her hold her ground.

So loving-jealous of his liberty.”

She smiled at me, sweat running down her cheek, her hair draped damp in front of her face. When I shoved deep she yelped, then looking at me in the mirror, ready to urge me on, she must have seen in my face or felt me come deep within her. I had stopped, fully spent.

“Thank you,” I whispered, looking at her beautiful body in the mirror, covered with sweat. She smiled back at me.

In the shower she washed my cock, talking to it. “I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight,” she said. I washed her hair, wishing I could tell her I liked it better before she lightened the color.

“Tell me in the first letter what you see in Viet Nam. Then tell me again after you’ve been there awhile.”

“Viet Nam? I’m not going to Viet Nam, I never said that.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, I’m going to Korea.”

“Really, that’s wonderful, really?”

“Why did you think it was Viet Nam? I never said that.”

“That’s all we hear, Viet Nam and body bags. I was having night mares. I’m so happy it’s not Viet Nam.”

She left me in the room, saying she didn’t want a long goodbye. I tried to go back to sleep but could not. On the way to the train depot I wondered if the cab driver would accept a travelers check. I checked my wallet to see if I had money for a tip and found forty dollars.

I received 17 letters from her in the 18 months I was in Korea. They were always short and never contained news of the brothel or of new people she had met. The letters arrived between the 6th and 10th day of each month. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that she only wrote to me when she was not working; the letters were written at the end of the month. I wrote to Mary Ann but she did not write back.

My Darling,

I was so happy to hear that you arrived safely. I had a bad dream about your plane crashing. Thanks for giving me your first impressions. Did you have a good time while at home on leave? I hope so. Did you think of me? I sold the car.

This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good-night, good-night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart as that within my breast!

You are my R and R,

Laura

I wrote her weekly, describing the area and what I had done on my time off. I told her of my work and the guys I worked with. I told her I missed her. I even told her that I marked the time by her letters, knowing it would be another month until the next one arrived. I went to the library and checked out a book, ‘William Shakespeare.’

We exchanged Christmas gifts. The small package she sent had an envelope on top of a wrapped package. Inside the envelope was a subscription to ‘Playboy.’ Unwrapping the package I found the panties she had worn so many times, Mary Ann’s panties. I put the crotch to my nose and tried to smell the many stains she had left there. I sent her a kimono.

A 3 x 5” photo of a small white house fell out of her seventh letter. It was a plain house in need of paint. The only color in the photo was a trellised rose bush to the side of the house.

My Darling,

Only 11 months and you will be back with me. When I can sleep, I dream of you. Please be careful, don’t make my dreams come true. I have put down roots. I rented the house in the picture for one year. I will spend three nights each month there. The only furniture is a king sized bed. Some of my coworkers wanted to use it too but I said no because you and I will be the only ones to use the bed. Does that sound tempting? I can’t wait.

A Thousand Times Good-Night!

You are my R & R,

Laura

I wrote back, saying that the house looked very inviting and that I too was looking forward to sharing the king sized bed with her. I also told her not to worry about me, saying I was in a safe location. Since you are taking pictures, ‘how about sending some of you?’

My Darling,

A picture of me? You know how I look, don’t you remember me? I know you didn’t like my hair lightened so I have let it grow back natural. Think of me that way. Oh, please think of me. And I will dream of you.

I met the youthful lord at Lawrence’ cell;
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o’er the dounds of modesty.