Page 21 of Blowing Off Steam

Oh, yes. This was going to work. Once Field had experienced spewing a load into Rushy’s expertly suctioning mouth, he would never be able to give it up.

Rushy stroked with his middle finger inside the slick channel, and Field groaned loudly and gripped the back of his neck so tightly Rushy would later find fingernail marks there. Field’s hips jerked and quivered, and as Rushy wriggled his big, flat tongue against the underside of the taut prick, he exploded down Rushy’s throat.

Rushy kept up with the finger-banging as he gulped the great stream of hot jism. Field’s full ball sac slapped against Rushy’s chin as he swallowed, twice, three times. Land’s sake, this man could come and come. The semen nearly erupted out his nostrils as he struggled to breathe and gobble at the same time. Field jerked his hips like a man possessed and made no sound at all.

Now Rushy could slow down, merely tickling the inside of Field’s anal passage so as not to overexcite him to the point of pain. His lips left the pulsating cock head regretfully, and he was light-headed as he raised himself to a standing position. He draped one arm over Field’s sweaty, panting shoulder, grabbing the wet rag to clean his hand.

“Now what do you say, partner?” He licked Field’s dry mouth. Sliding his slick tongue into Field’s mouth, he laved his tongue with a gob of jism. Field suckled back eagerly like a man dying of thirst as Rushy humped his full crotch against Field’s naked cock. It was always erotic to give a man back some of his own jism, and Rushy never failed to be amazed at how eagerly most men supped it.

But Field grabbed a handful of Rushy’s hair and snapped his head back, away from his mouth. He was smiling, his eyes lazily lidded. “You’re obscene,” he declared languidly. “And nasty.”

Rushy smiled, too. “Would you have it any other way?” He gave Field some more of his jism-coated tongue.

“Nasty and obscene doesn’t begin to cover it.”

Both men jumped at the sudden intrusion of a female voice. Rushy spun around and automatically reached for his holster, but when he squinted into the darkness he saw the pleasing form of Calliope. He wasn’t irritated, especially when he recalled how aroused Field became, knowing someone was watching him, well, acting obscene and nasty. His eyes darted back to Field, and he wore the same lazy, happy expression, and Rushy remembered his attraction to Calliope. Once again, he’d have to take charge. He was glad Field had just expended himself, so he couldn’t waste himself again on the whorish chef so soon.

Rushy blurted out, “You sure like watching, woman! We should be glad you didn’t start playing your namesake organ right now and blast everyone out of their bunks to come view the monkey show.”

In the dim light of two lamps that hung from the ceiling, Calliope came forward with some implements in her hands. She wore that foxy, devilish look. “I wager the majority of passengers would probably enjoy that.” She fluttered her lashes and put the implements down on Field’s work bench.

Field merely stuffed his cock into his broadfall before going forward to take Calliope by the shoulders. “Don’t be so hard on her, Rushy. She’s been working like a beaver all damned day, and she knows what the customers want. Don’t you think she’s done a bang-up job, jawing with the passengers and cooking?”

The way Field squeezed Calliope’s shoulders squished her bosom upward in the brown silk bodice, joggling her rounded teats enticingly. Rushy got an idea. Jamming his hands onto his hips, he strode close to the couple and shouted, “No, she hasn’t done a first-rate job! She’s turning her job all into ridicule—don’t you agree, Field?”

But when Rushy saw the woman’s mouth form a perfect O and Field’s ire begin to rise, Rushy saw he might have missed his calling as an actor. He was doing too good of a job, and Field believed he was dead serious. Rushy had to grin then, to give away the game, and he chucked Calliope under the chin like a child while she stuck out a petulant lower lip. “This young gal has been in a bad way for punishment, so old Headmaster Smith has informed me.”

The devilish cast returned to Calliope’s eyes, and she looked obediently at Rushy’s boots. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the headmaster had informed you. I was so bad. My judgment day has surely come.”

“Well, you got more than you bargained for,” said Rushy ominously, grabbing the first line he could find, which turned out to be a reata rope Field was apparently using to tie something down.

Field, having released Calliope, held out two warning hands. “Hey, now. I don’t think Calliope wants to remember her”—he watched in horror as Rushy yanked both Calliope’s wrists behind her back and began to bind them—“remember her recent employment. Reminding her of it might hearken her back into dark, dismal days—”

“It’s all right, Field.” Calliope jutted her jaw in grim determination to follow through with her punishment. “I know I’m in a heap of trouble, and you two he-men are just the ones to punish me.” She flicked Rushy a salty, seductive look as he jerked on the reata to cinch the knot at the small of her back. Her bursting breasts jiggled provocatively, the bodice having been yanked so low Rushy imagined he could see shadows of her areolas about to pop from the fabric. Rushy was already aroused out of his skull having suckled on that indecent engineer’s penis. He knew he wouldn’t last long punishing this naughty gal, and when he glanced aside, he saw that Field’s outrage was an act, too. Already Field’s cock was up like a hammer, straining to be released from his trousers.

Rushy had to go like sixty if he wanted to claim Calliope before Field leaped on her, so he shoved her rudely toward the work bench where she splayed attractively, feet apart, propped on her bound hands behind her. Rushy approached her with hands dangling at his sides, cocking his very obvious erection in her direction. “It’s a caution the way you’ve behaved, young missy.” He made a sudden swipe at a tin of bear grease that sat on the work bench, but the only one who flinched was Field, who tried to step between them.

“Now, now,” Field cautioned, his hands flat on the grimy breast of Rushy’s velveteen frock coat. “The young missy here probably doesn’t want—”

Rushy yanked Field brutally aside and had to grin at the shameful smile that appeared on Calliope’s face. Mayhap she liked her men a bit more domineering. Like me. Rushy dipped his fingertips into the bear grease and salaciously applied it to her warm collarbone. “Young missy has no choice in what she wants. It’s what I want. Right, young gal?”

Calliope affected a helpless face. “Right, New Headmaster.” She was such a convincing actress, matter of fact, Rushy couldn’t tell if her pining, longing expression when she glanced slack-jawed at his erection was real or put-on.

He smeared the grease down over the upper swell of one admirable, buoyant breast. He’d been visited in his pilothouse many times before by women who were not hookers—women bored with or sore from their husbands, who just wanted some dangerous frolics for a few moments before returning to their deadly lives. But none had ever had such full, creamy, buoyant teats, and Rushy was afraid he’d ejaculate the moment he brought them into the open. “Oh, yes,” he said bawdily. “We’re going to have it up and down, missy.” Rubbing his greasy thumb in a circular pattern, he swept his palm down the juicy swell of her bursting titty. He placed one booted foot on either side of her thigh, his knees easing up her gown to display her stockings, where she had claimed to have cinched an Arkansas toothpick in her garter.

Calliope thrashed her head defenselessly. “No, Headmaster Wakeman! I promise to be good. Just please don’t handle my titties!”

“Rushy!” Field hissed, now yanking on the tail of Rushy’s frock coat.

Calliope’s subservience just about put Rushy over the top. When her breast popped out fully into his palm, delectable and bouncy, he mindlessly jammed his crotch into her face. She uttered some muffled words, but her jawing against the head of his prick only served to stimulate him further, if such a thing was possible. It indeed sounded like she only uttered “Mmph, mmph, mmph” in order to have an excuse to jaw his cock some more. A sly wildcat she was.

He bobbled her oily teat, circling the stiff nipple with his calloused thumb, and he remarked harshly, “You’ve been wearing this newfangled corset while you slave in the galley? How shameful is that for a young upstanding girl? You’re ripe for the devil, you are.”

But of course Calliope could not admit to her devilment and could only make smothered sounds. Rushy swiftly unbuttoned his broadfall, his prick slapping upside her face. Without missing a beat, Rushy plunged it into her stunned O of a mouth, and she juicily fell to it, slathering her little squirming tongue all about the underside as his balls tightened up beneath the base of it.

“Why don’t you help punish her, Field?” Rushy generously offered as he humped the chef’s talented little mouth.

Field by now seemed utterly aghast at his friend’s doings. He’d gone slack-jawed, too, with shock but more than a little curiosity, so Rushy jammed the tin of bear grease into Field’s palm and eyeballed Calliope’s other titty, still clothed under the brown silk. Rushy urged, “Come on, Captain Fulton. Grab ahold of her big, succulent titty. She’s an eager little wildcat, a saucy little slut. She pretends to be innocent, but you know she’s eager to have us paw her big titties.”