A Night of Sea Food

The day was slipping into its evening gown, that time when the birds finally shut up and go to sleep. When people make a wish upon the first star that dares to pierce the darkening blue veil deep in a summer’s yawn. That time when sailors go hunting for any strange pussy hot enough, and drunk enough to try on something just a little different than their usual menu of settled in, leisure chair, pork & bean farts smelling husbands.

Her name was Betty Sue Bishop, a thirty something, former high school something, formerly happily ever altered to what she now considered a houseslave to a toad, and his three toadies. Betty Sue, along with her married, semi-married, divorced, and still single former high school competitors, all women, entered Bo champs grill, and cocktail lounge still buzzed from their success at the bowling finales. As usual, their team the Pink Damsels had taken second best soundly trampling the Purple Can-Cans, and were looking to celebrate with a little flirt teasing, a little dirty-but-not-too-dirty-dancing, and a lot more drinking.

“Hey, what’s the matter, Betty Sue?” Asked Darrel Raspkin after ordering the first round of drinks; at one time the only peroxide blond Cheerleader at Dixie High to not take on the entire football squad, thus landing the quarterback hunk Joshua Eubanks as her husband.

“Same old same, Darrel,” Betty Sue sighed. “Three kids, and a lazy slob more interested in the damn TV than me, thank you very much.”

“She found Andy jacking off in the toilet again,” Mary Jo Atkins chimed in with her giggle. The only prom queen at Dixie High to turn the other cheek, and marry a very intelligent, now highly paid nerd.

“That’s better than finding him with his secretary,” Betty Sue shot back, putting Mary Jo on notice that she wasn’t going to take any of her bullshit about how wonderful life is after divorce tonight. The woman was sterile after all, and had no children to consider other than herself.

“Maybe you should try finding an occasional fling on the side,” said Nancy Carpenter, the only one in the group who had an open marriage agreement with her husband, who was bi-sexual anyway, and had only married her as security for his job. Their two children, a boy 7, and a girl 5, both looked thankfully like their natural honey blond mother.

“And it doesn’t have to be with a guy,” added Jessica Tate huskily, the only single woman in the group, and that because of her preference for women more often than men as bed mates had nearly rocked the town’s senses 12 years before. The only true free spirit of the group Jessica divots out her living playing golf in the WPGA.

“Damsels! I’m shocked!” Darrel gasped

“Yeah right,” Nancy chuckled, “and that from a woman who insists that getting even by sleeping with the pool boy after catching her husband fucking the next door neighbor’s Co-ed daughter is much more satisfying than divorce.”

“Well it was,” and Darrel’s serious tone had them all giggling.

“Hey! There’s those sailors from the bowling alley,” Jessica pointed at the entrance to Bo champs that they’d just come in through only a few minutes ago.

“What makes you think that they’re sailors?” Mary Jo asked.

“They told me when I was getting the beers, they hit on me in the bar,” Jessica replied.

“Wow!” Betty gasped, “Who’s the tall dark, and arrogantly handsome bastard in the Greek fisherman’s cap?”

“He’s the captain of their Tug,” Jessica said, “I believe they called it the Pompous Pussy, or something like that.”

“The Nigger?” Darrel gasped.

“The cute colored man,” Mary Jo corrected sternly, noticing the four men heading for their table.

“Color hell,” Betty Sue whispered as they drew up to their table, “that man is as black as the scab on my heart.”

“Hello Ladies! I’m Captain Perry Wolf off the Tugboat Prissy’s Pride, and this is my crew. This ghoulish white matchstick on my left is Willy Sounder, my chief engineer, and these twin-tanned bookends on my right are our deckhands John, and Jimmy Jones. Would you Damsels care for some drinking company? We’d be more than happy to pay for all the booze.”

“In that case,” Betty Sue stood up with a little wobble, and grabbed a chair from the next table over, “you can sit by me, Captain Wolf.”

“Betty Sue!” Darrel chastised, but made room next to her for John as Mary Jo made room next to her for his twin brother Jimmy.

“Is it true what they say about sailors?” Jessica stared down Sounder.

“That depends,” replied the chief engineer brashly, “but I do like to eat seafood.”

“You’ll do,” Jessica giggled, and pulled a chair next to her then patted it with her left hand invitingly.

“What was that all about?” Betty Sue whispered to Jessica as Captain Wolf ordered a round of drinks for the table, his own being a single malt scotch.

“It just means he eats pussy,” Jessica giggled back loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.

They were half way through the first round, and getting to know each other when a local four piece combo started setting up on the stage next to the dance floor. Captain Wolf had become a river rat by way of a round about excursion on every kind of vessel on the seven seas after being at the head of his class at Kings Point Academy. Only to find that his life as a Pilot on the Mississippi, in charge of his own Tug Boat, was a better way to enjoy his wife and family life than being away for months at a time. And by the time the third round arrived, the combo was playing a slow song, the women were two sheets into the wind, and Captain Perry Wolf knew as much about Betty’s life, as she knew about his.

“Care to dance?” Captain Perry asked. Not totally oblivious to the two buttons she’d undone in her bowling blouse to show off her cleavage.

“I certainly would,” Betty Sue replied, and almost fell off of her high heels when she stood up too fast.

“Easy girl,” Darrel coached, still sipping on her second diet-coke as the groups designated driver, but managing to flirt with John never the less.

On the dance floor Betty Sue melted into Perry’s muscled front, hanging off of his broad shoulders by her arms clasped around his neck. His combing fingers in her long silky burnished hair finally finding her lower back, and settling carefully just above her butt. He smelled of old spice, and fresh salt air laced in pipe tobacco as he gently swayed with her to the music with a rhythm reminiscent of an old three masted schooner plying the tea trade. The world slowed its gyrating around her as they glided as one around the dance floor through three more songs, or at least enough for her to realize that his hands had slipped lower by then.

“You two looked like you were glued together out there,” Darrel said sarcastically once they were alone in the ladies restroom. “You aren’t thinking of taking Nancy’s suggestion to heart, are you?”

“And what if I were?”

“Well, it’s your soul, Betty Sue. I know you’re on the pill, but you might want to think about buying a couple of those,” and Darrel pointed to the condom dispenser, “The one that says STUD might fit him.”

“He’s married,” Betty Sue threw back adding a touch up of her lipstick.

“Yeah, but if he cheats on his wife with you, who’s to say he doesn’t cheat on her with other women, and maybe some not so clean inside as you. If you get my drift.”

“Is that from the conscience of Saint Experience?”

“It is indeed,” Darrel grimaced first, then smiled in friendship, and as she departed the ladies restroom, “it is indeed.”

Betty Sue found three full drinks waiting at her place at their table when she returned, once again half assed sober thanks to the dancing. And she chugged down one right away. She’d always been able to drink any three other women under the table if she had a little exercise in between drinks. And dancing was definitely an aerobic exercise. Still, it tickled her to pretend that she was drunker than she really was as she would be able to use it as an excuse, if not for her friends, then for herself, if anything did happen with Perry tonight.

“I think that they’re playing our song,” Perry said, and stretched out his hand.

A rhythm and blues number soaked the air appropriately enough as Betty Sue slipped out of her chair and took the pre-offered hand, following Perry back to the dance floor. Again she molded the front of her softer body to his firm flesh as they came together. The dance floor more crowded than earlier buried them from the table so that this time Perry’s hands went right to cupping her ass cheeks over her short pleated skirt. And if Betty Sue could have, she would have slid right into that black flesh, and crawled around until she passed out with a big shit eating, testicle stained grin.

Betty Sue didn’t remember how she ended up in a taxicab in front of the Moon River Lodge, but she didn’t resist Perry’s offered hand to help her out, and followed him to room 203, and after he opened the door for her went inside. The bay window looking out over the Mississippi’s sinewy passage outside was illuminated by a full moon making silver dance on water. The riverboat paintings on the walls adding an elegance unneeded in the fashionably spotless room with the chocolate mints waiting there on each pillow of the queen sized canopy bed.

“I’ve only got a bottle of Glenlevet,” Perry announced as he poured them both a drink, then turned on the radio. Another blues melody filling the room expectantly.

“I may be over my limit already,” Betty Sue’s voice now husky replied as she took the drink that he’d poured neat from his hand, took a sip, and then placed it on the night stand next to the bed.

Once again they slipped into each other, only this time she offered her lips up to be kissed as they swayed to the gently insistent beat. His tongue slithered inside past her freshly painted lips, and as if a prehensile tail began to tickle, tasting the roof of her mouth, and dueling with her own tongue. Betty’s arms pulling him in tighter as little sparks of light exploded behind her eyelids. She could feel her vagina wetting the crotch of her panty liner already, and damn near swooned when she felt his hands lift up the hem of her skirt to slip his hands down her panties, and squeeze at her bare bottom. He held her that way then, just gently massaging her white dimpled heart shaped ass with those big black hands that way as they danced through the whole kiss. Those thick lips of his making it seem so unreal compared to when she kissed Andy, her husband.

“I’ve never…” she started as they broke from their first kiss.

“…made love to a black man?” He finished for her.

“Actually, I meant that I’ve never cheated on my husband before, but both would be true,” she confessed, her blush engulfing her chest as well as her face. And then she kissed him again as another rhythm and blues song entered their hide-a-way.

They stood in place then, next to the bed, his hands slipping her panties down over her hips, and down to her knees while continuing to kiss. Then her arms came down from around his neck, and she unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped his trousers, allowing them to settle around his ankles, but stilled locked together at their lips, and his enchanting tongue.

It felt so wonderfully wicked to be standing there in a strange black man’s room with her ass in the breeze, and her panties slipping ever downward towards her own ankles as his hands fondled her naked flesh. In all of Betty Sue’s married life she’d never felt this sexually turned on, and this was just the warm up, the ritual handshake so to speak, they hadn’t even gotten to the foreplay yet. And she wondered, was that a baseball bat under his brown silk boxers, nudging against her tummy, or what?

Her hands began to unbutton his shirt, and his right hand came up and unsnapped her bra through her blouse in back. His left hand now moving down along the crack of her butt to dip a finger into Betty’s moist slit from behind.

“Mmmmmmmmmhmmmmmm,” she moaned into their kiss.

The world wasn’t exactly spinning, but it had gone out of focus to the point that she found herself flat on her back, legs spread wide open in the air, holding Perry’s kinky hair in her fists as he groveled in her nude crotch tongue first. Her skirt rolled up around her waist, her blouse open, and her bra missing in action. That prehensile tongue dipping in, and out, sliding along the length of her cleft, teasing her erect clit, his thick lips kissing her lower lips the same as they had with her mouth was like wallowing in a fluffy cloud of sin. Little lightening bolts zapping through every raw nerve in her flesh had her head snapping left and right as something incredible began to build up deep down inside of her. The feeling like nothing she’d ever felt in all of her life before now, painful like a rubber band twisted more, and more until it is ready to snap, and pleasurable in that way that not being entirely electrocuted must feel for someone on death’s row. Her body undulating, and trembling as she urged Perry on.

“Yes! Eat me! Eat my pussy! Soooooooooooooo close! Ooooooooooooooooo!”

The pressure inside of her that wasn’t pressure at all, suddenly exploded like a ton of dynamite blasting off, and the intense heat that flowed through her shorted out every nerve in a cascading fusillade of sparks that erupted singularly all the way to her brain stem. Her body sizzled, arms, head, and legs flopping about in every direction, her torso convulsing as if in the middle of an epileptic fit for a good five minutes as one explosive surprised another in rapid fire flashed through her until Betty Sue simply snapped out at the edge of eternity in the little death of life.

She couldn’t have been out for very long, because Perry was still plowing his tongue into her bottom though now he was concentrating more on Betty Sue’s puckered little bunghole than her quivering pussy. While not entirely uncomfortable a feeling, it was never the less as new to her as the multiple orgasm that this same tongue had brought her to moments ago. So far this had all been one sided, and Betty Sue was anything but selfish.

“Why don’t you bring that hog leg of yours up here for a little attention,” she suggested.

Perry’s tongue never missed a lick as he climbed up on the bed to lay naked inverted next her. Her eyes going wide at seeing such a strong manly appendage throbbing before her very eyes, like an uncoiled snake striking out at its next meal. The fingers of both of her hands barely able to surround all of that black mamba at the short hairs still left a lot of flesh to suckle on with her mouth. And while she hadn’t known more than three other men in her life, this man’s penis was definitely the biggest of the lot.

The smell of talc, and man assaulted her senses as she first kissed the head, and then parted her lips to let the beast enter her mouth. Sliding her lips down the thick black shaft until they touched her own fingers Betty Sue felt about as slutty right then as she never could have before in all of her life. And heaven help her, she liked that feeling as much as she liked having a complete stranger’s prick in her mouth to suck on, and his tongue squirming up her ass. She eased back then, letting Perry’s prick slip out of her mouth shiny slick with her saliva.

She gazed upon it, holding the throbbing massiveness as if worshiping at some primitive savage temple, and wondered how best to suck such a monolith. Instinct kicked in then, and she again swallowed that cock down to her fingers, but this time when she slid back with both her hands, and her mouth until just the head was in her mouth. Then back down again, Betty Sue started a nice smooth rhythm that had Perry’s hips thrusting towards her face, and back away in concert with her own sucking of his cock. Her own hips doing a waggle in his face as his tongue thrilled her to new heights.

And suddenly she was erupting like a volcano again shaking the world all around her. Even in the midst of it, Betty Sue would have been hard pressed to explain exactly what her body was going through. But one thing was for certain; she wanted it to keep happening. And then she was hit by an epiphany. This was what Nancy had meant when she’d tried to explain what a real orgasm was all about! No wonder Nancy was such a slut with these kind of benefits.

With her head clearing of its alcohol induced fog, Betty Sue remembered Darrel’s warning, and pulled the foil pack from her Pink Damsel’s bowling blouse pocket without getting tangled up in her boobs. The label said extra large, but she barely managed to skin it down three quarters of the length of Perry’s engorged penis as she continued to suck him off so as to lubricate the latex rubber. Hoping that his cock fit in her better than that damn condom fit over his cock, Betty Sue disentangled herself from Perry, and then crawled around until her thighs bridged his torso. Her hands never leaving that throbbing prick.

She lined up her slit, then spread her pussy lips apart before lowering her body enough to put the head of his black cock against her saliva wet pink slit. Her eyes going to his when he reached up to take her marbled white breasts in his huge black hands to steady her. The taste of salt on her tongue after licking away the perspiration on her lips. It was now, or never. He was stiff, ready; she was wet, and wanting.

It was actually just a matter of sitting down, but the incredible feeling of having her cunt stretch out around that massive slab of meat made her see bright blaring spots impairing her vision. The cramped feeling once she had it all inside of her eased up to slightly uncomfortable after a moment, then delightfully wicked the next. And when she rose up a bit it was like having her guts sucked out so that she sat right back down again.

But the itch down there wouldn’t let her not move, and after a little squirming around on that monument, and adjusting her innards she rose up again, a bit higher this time, before sitting back down. Then she did it again, and again, and with Perry holding her steady, and thrusting his hips up to meet ever down impalement Betty Sue managed to fuck that monster cock to the bass beat coming from his room’s radio.

“Whew!” She breathed her voice as husky as she’d ever heard it. “You sure are a mighty Tug Boat skipper, captain.”

“Just call me sea food, Betty Sue,” Perry chuckled.

“Yeah… right…” she panted, “then… this… would be… a… hump back whale… of a dick… you’re feeding… my pussy!”

“You are what you eat!” Perry laughed, and then pulled her down on top of him for another one of those long wet fluffy lipped kisses of his.

It was amazing to Betty Sue how such a man could contain, even bottle up his own sexual enthusiasm. His throbbing cock telling the truth better than his actions as he allowed her the luxury of adjusting to him now the same way he had leading her around the Bo champ’s dance floor. A new haze fogging her vision as she rapidly headed for another one of those gut wrenching explosions as she road him, her rear bouncing faster, and rising higher with each passing second. Her cunt, a liquid cauldron now, had slicked down the full length of him. Her face enrobed with his lips as his tongue set off more sparks in her mouth. And then she felt the first tickle, what she liked to think of as the warning sign she got for an approaching orgasm. But if this tickle was one of those, then she was in for something really big this time.

Faster, and higher her buttocks churned until she was impaling herself over, and over again on the full length of Perry’s fence post. The haze turning to spots, the spots turning to sparklers, as her body trembled undulating over a great precipice of jagged heat lightening. Room 203 as quiet as the slapping of flesh to flesh will ever get just before a sun went Nova in Betty Sue’s head with a flash of intense heat, and blinding white light. The little death once again shutting down her whole system as the void swallowed her whole once again.