Spilling with Spillane

There were a few hangers-on the night I returned. to the bar. Miss Konnan was seated by herself at a table. She had a bit too much to drink and was having trouble walking. Still, she talked my ear off, telling how she and my Mom had cavorted at the Roseland Dance Hall when they were young. Joe insisted I walk her home. It was only two blocks away.

It was no surprise that as soon as we arrived at her home, she offered me a drink and took one herself. That was when she started to act like a drunken co-ed. She reached across the couch to grab my cock and squeeze my nuts.

"Miss Koonan, that is very unladylike," I admonished her.

But cocks being what they are, one squeeze led to another, and before you could say 'Mickey Spillane was right,' she had my dick in her mouth and was busy executing a professional-grade blowjob, even to the end, swallowing all of the wiz-bang. Maybe there is something to be said about treating older women nicely!

In the several months before Mickey returned. I busied myself with work and study. Like clockwork once a week, Miss Koonan would arrive and invite me to drop by after work. She'd wet her whistle with some dry throat lubricant and away she would go. There was no stopping her. Miss Koogan was quite a good cock sucker.

These incidents were so uncomplicated and provided me with a needed sexual release. I just let the pieces fall into place without thinking about any consequences. Sometimes she would catch my jizz in Kleenex that she'd put in a large pottery vase. Other times she quaffed the love juice down like a pro. As strange as this whole routine seemed, it was even more bizarre when the cops showed up at the bar one Saturday night and asked me,

"What'd you do with the old lady?"

"Nothing. I don't know what you are talking about," I exclaimed.

"Well," said Detective Duggan, "her neighbors say you were the only visitor to her home. I'll bet your DNA is the same as what we found on a vase filled with jerkoff tissues."

That's old evidence, I thought. Most of the time, Miss Koogan swallows the jizz, but I say nothing.

"It is you jizz all over the apartment, isn't it?"

"No, well yeah. Ok. I admit the old lady loves sucking my cock or jerking me off. Is that a crime, jerking or being sucked? Fuck it, man, you know you don't turn down a good blow job--and she was outstanding."

"We don't do that kind of shit in my house," says the red-faced cop, "We ain't fucken perverts."

Duggan spins me around and slaps a pair of gray gunmetal cuffs on me.

"You, sir, are a person of interest. I'm arresting you for the abduction and murder of Nancy Koogan."

Being in jail was not a fun time. For those who have never shared the experience, jails stink. It is a smell that gets into your clothes, your hair, and you can even taste it. You can't sleep for the noise, and you are fearful that if you fall asleep, you will be butt fucked by two of the goons you share a cell with and who are watching your butt day and night.

"If you don't let me fuck you," says Johnson, the inmate cell boss, "I'm gonna bite off your balls and turn you into a real girl." Johnson is about 350 pounds, and when he uses the one toilet in the six-man cell, he makes a show out of playing with his huge cock. I'm not looking forward to his cock or his sharp teeth.

Five days later, who should appear at the West End detention center, but my buddy Mick? He's paid the bail and tells me to get up,

"We are going."

"I'll be waiting for you when you get back," says Johnson, grabbing his crotch as he waves goodbye.

"He ain't comin back," says Mick.

When we get out of the clink, Micky unfolds a copy of the New York Times and papers the car seat.

"Jesus, you stink, don't fuck up the upholstery."

Mick asks me a few pertinent questions, but it is clear he knows what is going on.

"I got the Judge to set a low bail. He's an old friend of mine. We were both fucking the same red-headed Baliff back in the day. May sweet Bertha rest in peace."

"What happened to her?"

"Musta choked on some guy's cock, naw, breast cancer. She had the biggest tits you can imagine and a pussy that salivated like a Saint Bernard's bava. Anyway, that's neither here nor there. You're the one with the problem. If we don't find the old bitch you are going down for murder."

"Don't they need a body for that?"

"Oh, they will find the body. Once the cops do, you better hope there is enough left of her to prove Koogan died of natural causes."

That morning, I'd showered three times but could still taste the cellblock stench deep in my throat.

We went over to Koogan's roost and knocked on every door in the place. Those who answered eyed me nervously. Nobody knew where she'd ended up.

"You killed her, didn't you? Admit it! Shouted an old gal who claimed to be her best friend.

"No, Honey," said Mick, "He just used to walk her home to make sure nothing bad befell her on the way."

"Mrs. Koogan's living room window is right across from mine. I saw this young buffoon lay on the couch when she'd jerk him off or blow him. I told her no good would come from that, but Koogan would just laugh and say,

"Playing with that young kid's cock makes me feel young again. I'm swallowing the stuff. It's supposed to be the fountain of youth, filled with all that hot testosterone. He makes so much of it," and then the old gal just laughed.

"I told her it was disgusting," said the peeking neighbor, "She was even making a tea out of those sperm-soaked tissues."

"Enough said Mick, I can't take any more of this story. You must be the one who reported her missing?"

"Yep."

"And put the finger on this kid."

"Sure did, ain't no one else she's been a see-en."

Our next stop was the Super, who recognized Mick right away.

"You still write that sleaze?"

"It pays the bills," said Mick.

"It better. I got a pile of these pockets over on the bookcase yonder," said the Super.

"You got a key to Koogan's apartment?'

"Sure, I got a master key to all of them."

"Well, come on up with us. Maybe we can find something to exonerate our friend here."

"You didn't kill her?" said the Super, pointing at me.

"Naw," said Mick, "she just wanked him and drained his ball sack, thinking swallowing it would keep her young."

"Yeah, I've heard of that. My wife used to say the same thing, that a blow job was the best thing a gal can do for her complexion."

"How does she look?''

"Well now, she's been dead a few years, but she was the most beautiful corpse you ever did see."

"I'm sure she was," said Mick, "Ok, let's take a quick look in Koogan's flat."

The three of us climbed the stairs up to her third-floor apartment.

"The elevators are on the Fritz," said the Super, "We're waiting a month for a replacement part to be shipped down from Rochester. That fucken Otis lift is close to ninety years old, ya know.``They gotta mill a new piece to get it going again."

It didn't take Mick long to find what he was after. A small blue booklet that said, 'complement of the New York Commercial Bank.'

"What's that, Mick?"

"Her phone directory, we'll call up everyone in the book to see if we can get a tracer on her."

Two hours later, Mickey solved the mystery. Mrs. Koogan was visiting her sister's daughter in Buffalo, New York. When we confronted the elderly busy body who'd started all the trouble, she said,

"Oh yeah, it slipped my mind. Koogan did say something about the going to visit."

Mick got it smoothed out with the cops, and the case was dismissed. By now, it was nightfall. We grabbed a turkey hero with coleslaw at the corner bodega.

"I got a birthday present for you," said Mick. "Come on, we both can use a little time off. There's a place over on 39th Street where the party never stops. They got booze and girls, cigars, and pool tables. Come on. We'll drive over there."

Minutes late, under a clear sky and a rising full moon, we were seated in Mick's XK120 white Jaguar convertible cruising to our destination. We pulled into the parking structure somewhere in the West '30s. Mick handed the keys to Vallee.

"You don't ever park this baby on the street," said Mick. And I followed him into a tall modern glass building.

A uniformed concierge sat at the desk. He asked us where we were going.

"Penthouse'" said Mick.

"Do they expect you?"

"Madagascar tomatoes," Mickey responded.

"That's the word. Take elevator C."

"What button do I push?" I asked.

"It's a security building. The guy at the desk already pushed it."

The C elevator's door opened, we walked in and it closed. The elevator looked like part of Versailles Hall of Mirrors. We were whisked upstairs as if in a hyper tunnel.

A half-dressed woman wearing a French maid's costume welcomed us to the strains of Sinatra's music. A crowd of people was shouting around a roulette table, smoking and cursing lousy luck.

I followed Mick into the back, where there were four pool tables. We took the one unoccupied. A cigarette girl with one of those tiny hats you see in 1930 noir films came in and offered us cigars. I'm not much of a smoker, but what the hell.

"Real Havanas," said Mick as the lady lit the cigars with what looked like a mini blow torch.

Mick knew the guys playing a foursome of Chicago on the table near us. Before I knew what they were talking about, there was loud laughter. They all came over and patted me on the back.

"Magic cum sucker," a Chinese guy said and saluted me with his cigar.

"You turn old gals young," said his companion, who turned out to be a detective in a pinstripe suit.

"Can I make an appointment with you for my wife?'' said another high-up cop. "She won't suck my dick, but if she thought it would get rid of her crow's feet, maybe she'd suck his," and he let out a loud guffaw.

Once they calmed down, Mick and I shot a few games of straight pool. I broke the pack, but no ball fell in a pocket. After my miss, Mick cleaned up the table. The guy was a regular Willie Mosconi, the World Champ in the 1960s. Finally, after a few champagne cocktails served by a waitress whose tits were prominently displayed, Mick asked me.

"Do you wanna get laid? You really ought to. They got some hot birds here."

I didn't answer and tried to keep a blank expression on my face. The next thing I knew, Mick was whispering in the half-naked waitress's ear. When she returned a few minutes later, she took me by the hand and began to lead me away. Mike took a combo shot and looked up,

"It's all arranged. Go blow your load."

The waitress escorted me down a long corridor where I could see a series of doors with numbers.

The waitress said, "We want Room Six," and she took me a little further down the hall where we found a white door with the number six. She knocked twice, smiled at me, and without waiting for a response, opened the door into a medium-sized bedroom. A luscious girl, probably two years older than myself, lay nude on top of the bedspread and waved me in.

"Hello, sir, my name is Bonnie."

She was tall and thin, but fit. There was a faint Asian look about her but she had two knockers like cantaloupes that magically stared up at me without even a sag. Bonnie turned sideways, posing, and I was surprised a girl with such a thin waist would have a sculpted ass. My pecker started to get agitated. I wanted to adjust it but thought against the penis grab. I'm not Michael Jackson. God rest his perverted soul. What surprised me was Bonnie's exotic skin color, a light golden tan.

"Where are you from, Honey?" I was trying to sound sophisticated while smoking my Havana.

"The Island of Ceylon, where all the rare gems are still found."

"Well, you must be one of them."

Bonnie smiled and put her third finger in her mouth,

"And how did you end up here?"

"I was studying at NYU. My father died, thus ending my means of support. A friend who has worked here for a while suggested this was a way to pay my way."

"What were you studying, Bonnie?"

"Asian languages, there are big jobs in industry and even in the State Department. The government has few people in the US who speak these important languages."

I knew every hooker has a bulletproof story for her origin, but I was determined to get some of the inside gravy on this place.

"Are you thinking of applying for a job? Some of the prostitutes here are men."

"No, but that's always an option."

We both laughed.

"Excuse me, Bonnie, but can I ask what kind of money can a girl earn here?"

"I usually wouldn't answer such questions, but since we are probably about the same age and I can see you are the curious type, I'll tell you. This is a high-class bordello. Depending on how many appointments you have in an evening, $1000-$3000 is common in a night. When it's a threesome it's usually the higher number."

"When you say threesome you mean two guys or..."

"Yeah, usually two guys who want a trip around the world or a bookend, sometimes a guy brings his mistress who enjoys making love to a woman while the guy watches, but he usually gets so horny he joins in."

"Wow, I don't think I can afford you."

"No worries, your boss has already stepped in to pay the tab, so we might as well stop talking and start to enjoy each other."

"Yes, that's what I am thinking."

"Why don't you take off your clothes and freshen up with a shower?"

"Good idea. "

I dropped my clothes on the plush striped upholstered chair and went into the bathroom where I flushed the cigar. Bonnie was right behind me as I entered the glass shower stall, adjusting the water temperature. She began soaping me up from my ankles to my neck, not to mention an extensive washing of my package. She seemed to be fascinated by my thick foreskin. As she soaped it, she placed her finger between the foreskin and my staff, running her fingers around it till my penis head popped out, which made her laugh.

"It's just like a turtle, so cute," she laughed, "Now turn around."

Then she spent a lot of time washing my ass, soaping it thoroughly. The soap made the surface of my buttocks shiny and smooth. Bonnie's fingers began playing with my ass hole. This fingering was a pleasant sensation as she worked her fingers in and out.

"There is a client, a famous politician, who comes here to see me. All he wants me to do for the whole hour is to finger his ass hole."

"Don't tell me about your other men."

"Don't be jealous. My, you are very big for a man of your stature." She said as she scrubbed my staff.

"I'm 5'8" and I'm pretty solid."

"Yes, you are."

"I was a wrestler in high school, but in college, I have had to work to get by. That leaves me no time for athletics."

"I see, " said my new friend who was gently popping my balls.

I was really enjoying the world-class treatment.

Bonnie told me to bend forward and she shampooed my hair and then conditioned it.

"Now, you look like a Prince. My Prince,'' said Bonnie.

She dried me off and told me to stand under a fan that blew hot air over me. In no time, I was dry.

Grabbing me by my cock, Bonnie led me back into the bedroom.

"Would you like me to suck your cock?"

"Oh no, I'm not really in the mood for that. That got me in a lot of trouble."

"So you were a bad boy?"

"Something like that."

"And did her husband find out?"

"No nothing like that, just a lady who... well, I'll tell you that story another time."

"Ok Sweetie, now roll over and spread your legs. I have a surprise for you."

"You're not going to fuck me with a dildo?"

"Oh no, nothing of the kind."

I had no idea what she had in store for me, but I soon found out. She grabbed tight to my ass cheeks, spreading them so she'd have easy access to her intended target, and zoomed in on my ass hole, tonguing it repeatedly.

This unique treatment had me writhing under her tutelage. Bonnie continued to squeeze and pinch me as she licked, piercing my butt hole with her long tongue while twisting my buttock flesh. Her licking began to move back further, and I lifted my butt so she could chew on my ball sack. This was the Disney fantasy land of sexual pleasure. Finally, either her tongue gave out, or she thought it was time to move her attack from my ass to my dick.

Of course, when I turned over, my wang was fully erect. My glans penis protruded far beyond the thick sheath of the foreskin and looked like a policeman's truncheon. Once on my back, she moved on top of me like a panther and grabbed my erection, pushing it into her vagina that seemed inordinately large for a young woman.

Bonnie had no difficulty engulfing my dick right up to my balls. I wondered if I might fit them inside her as well. As I began to fuck her it was reassuring the way my nut slammed into her vagina.

I mused that her occupation as a sex worker had probably expanded her vaginal horizon, but I figured she was a tall and slender girl well suited to intercept a long cock. If you marry a girl with a short cunt you will never get to jam it home without a complaint.

Once Bonnie seated herself on my cock she began to squeeze my nipples. I never knew that I had a sexual feeling there, but I did. She then began to tighten her vaginal grip. It could only have been her superb muscular control over her pussy that allowed her to grasp my dick in a whirlwind of exotic contortions that prepared me, perhaps too soon, for the final act. Of course, my eyes were closed most of the time, so I might concentrate on feeling what she was doing to me.

Moments later, I can't control myself. "Oh, Oh oh my God, I'm oh I'm cuming," I shouted.

As I filled her with my vital fluids, her pussy continued to clench my dick, milking me of what must have been a pint of cum juice. I lay in an exhausted stupor for several minutes. When I opened my eyes, she had a big grin.

"You come so good, so hard, maybe you make a baby inside me."

That comment made me smile. I was sure she was on the pill, but I just kept beaming, imagining what a thrill it would be to have a child with such a beautiful woman.

She lay there on top of me, her big breasts against my chest. It was as if we both lapsed into sleep for ten minutes. Then she extricated herself from my cock as the white sludge I'd filled her with slowly dripped onto my belly.

After a brief shower and soaping, we both dried off under the heated exhaust fan.

When we returned to the bed, I could not take my hands off of her tits. I rubbed the firm mounds of flesh as if they were a lucky talisman. Her nipples ended up in my mouth, and I accidentally bit down, causing her to cry out a pain.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled and moved lower, abandoning her breasts and began to lick her vagina, fingering her clitoris that swelled to my attack.

Of course, my dick was once again fully swollen.

"So big man, are you ready for a second time?"

"I guess, I'm falling in love with you Bonnie.

"That's what everyone says."

She pulled me up, lifted her leg, and grabbed my big cock, surprising me by inserting it into her rectum.

"Fuck me in the ass," Bonnie repeated several times as my dick slipped balls deep into the narrow passage.

"Oh yes," she said, "I like how that feels. A big cock in the ass is a pleasure every woman loves."

Her rectum gripped my dick tightly with spasms of contractions until I could not resist firing a volley of sperm I'd unknowingly had kept in reserve.

And so ended the most exciting night of my life, a night I was sure would never again be repeated. I could only hope that someday I might return.

Once more, we showered clean. Hands clasped tightly together, we returned to the bedroom nude but relinquished the bed for the soft cushioned lounge chairs. A waitress appeared with cold drinks, tall glasses of margaritas with salt-lined walls. We drank together, and finally, she bid me goodbye and saying,