him with such generosity, pushing his throbbing prick down towards the floor and then jerking it back until it brushed just below his belly button before twisting it in fast little circles around and around.
It was as if she wasn't there at all. Toni turned and looked at the sailor and snuggled into the curve of his neck and whispered, 'I like sucking your cock, you know that?'
'It sure feels like it, I mean it's really great,'
'Would you like to come in my mouth honey? Did you like that?' 'Sure, I, that is if you don't mind… ' 'Mind!' she rasped in a low breath, 'No I don't mind at all.'
'That's good.'
'Why is that good?' she whipped back at him, prodding at his reasoning like a naughty child poking a helpless insect, grilling him to make his statement.
'Because you do it so good I guess, because if that's what you want to do then you
should do it.'
'What a genius,' Toni thought to herself and almost let the words pass through her mouth out into his ear. But she just smiled instead and tugged at his groaning pud which was just aching for release. 'Let him suffer,' she thought maliciously, turned on by her own sexual power and prowess and adaptability. A minute later she started in guzzling him lightly, leading him a few times to the brink of orgasm and then sending his come back down into his loins, cooling him off in a way that he liked and at the same time resented.
The lights of Manhattan were just cracking through the Bus' windshield when Toni dropped down on the sailor's cock for the final round. 'We're almost there,' he whispered down at the back of her head. She heard him but disregarded his words, intent upon her work, enjoying immensely the way his cock bulged her cheeks out in swollen little pouches.
Two blocks from Port Authority Toni decided the time was right for the boy to get his rocks off good and proper. Sucking as lustily as she could she siphoned the sperm from his bursting cock like this was her first meal in days. The come spewed up from between his legs in spasms that sent his body into contractions he had no control over. It felt like his prick had molten lead going through it as Toni relieved him of his immense load with no trouble at all.
Toni situated her mouth so that when he came his come shot up against the roof of her mouth, That way she could take her sweet time in digesting it and she wouldn't gag unexpectedly. There was a lot of it and the more the better she thought as she swilled the thick, slightly bitter jism around in her mouth, rolling it across her tongue like a marble or a piece of chewing gum. The sailor finally tossed the last drop of sperm down into her stomach before letting out a long suppressed sigh of total satisfaction.
'New York city!' the driver announced, waking the sleeping busload of humanity.
He asked her for her address and she gave him a telephone number that she made up on the spot because she did not want to see him again even though she had liked sucking his cock. Toni reasoned she wasn't going to see the New York City she wanted to see on the arm of some horny and penniless sailor. 'Now don't forget to call me,' she said looking over her shoulder as she heaved her bag into the Yellow Cab that smelled of urine and stale tobacco and too many nights moving through these greasy, abused streets.
'Where to lady?' the driver asked.
'Hotel Gorham please, Fifty fourth street,' she shouted back across the distended belly of the cab.
For a seventeen year old runaway Toni Corbin didn't look or act like it. Even the doorman who had seen it all didn't take her for what she was- just a kid on the prowl. As her perfect legs with just the right amount of thigh showing eased its way out onto the sidewalk to be greeted by a few miscellaneous drops of rain that had evaded the doorman's oversized umbrella she looked for all the world like an up and coming New York fashion model.
'The boy will show you to your room Madame,' the pansy behind the desk intoned as he watched her sign the name Grace Kenny on the register with a Washington D.C. address as home. 'Just call if there's anything you need.' Toni had spotted the Gorham on one of her trips to New York a year back and figured that if she were ever to come back to the city, as she intended, this was a good place to stay, much better than the Plaza. She preferred keeping a low profile. Even though she didn't have enough money in her purse to cover that night's bed and board she walked towards the elevator like she owned the building and everyone in it.
The sailor had been too busy getting his dick sucked to notice Toni's quietly elegant wardrobe, the expensive luggage and handbag, the raincoat that had the Paris label and the shoes with the Italian touch. He had figured her to be at least twenty-four not seventeen and just on the way from Baltimore. He had been too thick to match her wardrobe with her incongruous tales of go-go dancing and Jazz Moderne. Toni had learned one thing from her parents that stood her in good stead and that was 'Dress rich and everyone will think you're rich'. The dumb thing about it was it worked. People are so full of shit, she thought as the bellboy bowed her into the room, flicked the light switch and accepted the two dollars she slipped into his gloved palm with a smile.
The thrill of it all had her out of her mind with excitement. The fact that she didn't have more than ten dollars in her purse, that she was just seventeen and knew no one in New York, that tomorrow was a blank page for all intents and purposes, that she had just picked up and left home cloaked in a sophisticated wardrobe that had somehow transformed her into another being, made Toni Corbin tingle with wonder. That nothing but the greatest of adventures lay ahead of her she didn't doubt for a minute.
She unpacked her suitcase and carefully hung her limited but well chosen selection of clothes in the closet. She removed her clothes brush from its box and passed it over her raincoat. In the bathroom she used the rag provided for shoes to wipe away the splotches of wet she had picked up between Port Authority and the hotel. She undressed and hung her clothes and undergarments on a hangar from the wall lights to air and then pushed her neatly cropped hair into a shower cap and stepped under the soothing, hot needle spray.
She looked at her watch and it said 9:42. She lit a cigarette and picked up the telephone and dialed for room service. She ordered a shrimp cocktail, a filet mignon with spinach and a baked potato, green salad with French dressing, fresh fruit and a selection of cheese. As an afterthought she told them to send up a bottle of champagne and two packs of Newports. She pulled her long robe close to her body, turned on the television set and sat down to wait for dinner. She was starved.
At 11:30 pm Toni Corbin walked through the lobby of the Pierre Hotel and straight into the bar. She ordered a Dubonnet on the rocks with a twist of lemon, pulled a cigarette from her bag and found that before it reached her mouth she was being offered a light. At the end of the gold Dunhill lighter was a leather faced Texan wearing a crisp, off-white Stetson hat and a black string tie.
As she streaked through the lobby she had looked neither left nor right. When she ordered her drink she knew the bartender would not ask her for any proof of age and she certain that some gentleman would be offering to light her cigarette before very long. The bar was electric with traffic and the roar of multiple conversations. She gave the Texan a curt 'thank you' and turned to her drink. She figured he had to be a Texan with that hat and tie and more likely than not he was big money.
'Are you waiting for someone young lady?' he drawled, the accent twanging unmistakably of the long horn state.
'Are you?' she replied.
'Nope.'
'Than neither am I,' she told him taking a long, cool swallow of her Dubonnet on the rocks.
'Could I coax you to have some supper with me then at a very nice little French restaurant not far from here?' his eyes twinkled brightly, the icy pools of blue crisscrossed with red veins.
'I don't see why not,' Toni told him in a steady voice, smiling like she really meant it.
He was big money. The sleek Cadillac limousine that was waiting on the corner of Fifth Ave and Sixtieth street seemed to testify to that fact. 'Good evening Mr. Sholes,' the driver tipped his cap springing up to snap open the door for them.
'Evenin' Bob,' he said getting a good look at Toni's legs as she slid into the back seat. The rain had stopped leaving the air momentarily acceptable, but looking up Toni could see a heavy mist wreathing the buildings, pressing down as if threatening to do some further damage.
'The name's Duane Sholes,' he said tipping the brim of his Stetson as they eased away from the curb and into a thick clot of traffic.
'Toni Corbin. Pleased to meet you.'
'Where to Mr. Sholes F' the driver asked his eyes framed for a second in the mirror, flickering pin points caught in an arc of headlights.
