Earth - Boatswain Abram Wallace - Checking Out
From Create Your Own Story
After stopping off at the Chief Petty Officer's T.A.D. (Temporary Assignmed Duty) Quarters to be given a bunk in a two-man room, Chief Abram Wallace returned to his apartment complex for what would be his last time.
The complex was a two-story, horseshoe shaped building typical of rental units near Space Bases. The apartments were furnished with cheap but adequate furniture and the plumbing and electrical fixtures were in good working order. The Resident Manager and his wife lived on the first floor at one end of the U-shaped structure and kept the place reasonably clean.
His knock on their door was answered by a feminine voice from the inside, "Just a moment. I'm coming. I'm coming."
When the Manager's wife, a middle-aged bleach blonde name Flora opened the door, her face lit up with a smile. She had always liked Chief Wallace; he was one of their better tenants. Always paid his rent on time. Never complained about anything. And she had caught him glancing at her legs whenever she wore shorts or darting his eyes at her cleavage if she had on a low-cut tee-shirt or the top few buttons of her blouse were opened. At thirty-five, it was nice to still be noticed. She had once been pretty but excessive drinking and a previously failed marriage had robbed her of that. She was now slightly overweight, though far from fat, and she did have a tendency to wear too much make-up.
Her second husband, the Manager of the Apartment Complex was not a bad man. At least he never hit her as her first husband did, but he, too, drank more than he should and after six years of marriage, their sex-life had fizzled out to an occasional Saturday afternoon quickie.
"Chief Wallace!" she beamed at him and opened the door wider. "My husband isn't home right now. It's his bowling night but he should be back before ten. Anything I can help you with?"
"No," the Chief shook his head and held up his apartment keys. "I'm just returning these."
"Oh, yes," her smile faded as she took the keys. "You're moving back to the base. We'll miss you around here."
"Thanks," he nodded. He had absolutely no feelings at all about leaving. He had lived in too many places to care one way or other where he lay his head down as long as the pillowcase was clean. Even returning to his ship held no excitement for the nineteen-year veteran. But a little white lie never hurt. "I'll miss living here."
Neither said anything for a moment. The Chief had no reason to tarry any longer and after a second or two blinked and started to leave.
"You know, Chief," Flora called to him. "We never did get around to making passionate jungle love when my husband wasn't around."
She was kidding, of course, and they both knew it. Still, Chief Wallace took a step back towards her and said, "I guess this is our last chance to do so, huh?"
Flora suddenly found her heart pounding and her breathing became shallow. When the Chief took a few more steps towards her, she backed up and he entered her apartment. He closed the door behind him and the two wound up embracing, kissing each other wildly and groping at one another.
His hands were all over her, cupping her buttocks, rubbing across her tee-shirt, then up underneath the thin garment. He was pleased to find she was not wearing a bra and her heavy breasts, though sagging, were firm and resilient in his hands.
Flora, in the meantime, was fumbling with the Chief's belt buckle and then zipper. Once she had his pants more or less open, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed down. Breaking their kiss, she looked up into his eyes, fully understanding what he wanted. She pushed against his chest, guiding him backwards towards an imitation leather recliner. The chair was a duplicate of the one upstairs in his living room.
He fell into the chair and she sunk to her knees between his legs. Quickly her deft fingers had his cock out and she lowered her head over his lap to take his semi-erect member into her mouth. He immediately became hard and after she had slid her wet mouth up and down his thick shaft several times, he pushed her away from him.
"Take off your shirt," he said. His voice was raspy.
Silently she did as he asked, crossing her arms in front of her to grab the bottom of her cotton tee-shirt and pulled it over her head. Her full breasts sprung free, bouncing several times as the came to rest, and she once more took him into her mouth.
Chief Wallace sat back in the chair, occasionally stroking Flora's dyed hair, while she moved her mouth up and down on his cock, licking and sucking and twirling her tongue all around. She figured she would bring him off this way first, then they could have sex on the couch or the floor. Or the kitchen table, if he wanted. She didn't care where. But she knew if she made him come this way first, he would last longer when he finally did go inside her.
He watched the way her lips were stretched tightly around his girth and how her cheeks caved-in on the upstroke while billowing out on the downward ones. Her bare breasts jiggled as she repeatedly raised and lowered her head and her fingers played with his balls and the root of his cock.
After she had worked on his cock for quite sometime, Chief Wallace began rotating his hips and massaging her shoulders. Flora was glad to see and hear that, as her mouth was becoming a little tired and her knees were starting to hurt. She tried moving her head faster while playing more forcefully with his now tight ball sack.
His increased moans and movements told her that he was getting closer, and as bobbed her head rapidly up and down, she heard him suddenly gasp.
The first blast of spunk bounced off her pallet and she swallowed quickly, just as another jet filled her mouth. Flora kept bobbing and swallowing, eagerly draining him of all his cum.
When at last the Chief had stopped coming, Flora leaned back on her haunches and wiped the back of hand across her mouth. She smiled up proudly at him, knowing that he had enjoyed her blowjob.
She stood up stiffly, rubbing the tops of her thighs. She would give him a few moments to catch his breath before "attacking" him. "Do you something to drink? I know I do."
He told her soda would be fine and just as she came out of the kitchen with two glasses, hovercraft headlights swept across the closed living room curtains. Judging from the direction the lights moved when the hover-craft parked, she knew what spot it was in.
"Shit!" she spat, scooping up her tee-shirt and hurriedly pulling it over her head. "It's my husband!"
Chief Wallace just had time to fasten his clothing and sit back down before Flora's old-man came in. If her Manager-Husband had not stopped outside to examine a recent dent made in one of the thin support columns for the second floor balcony/walkway, he would have caught the Spacer with his pants down.
As it was, he looked a little surprise to see one of his tenants sitting in his living room and his wife sitting on one of the dining table's chairs when he entered.
"What happened to your game?" Flora asked innocently as her husband and Chief Wallace nodded at each other.
"Ah, one of the guys got a phone call from his wife," he answered. "His kid was in some kind of bike accident and they had to take him to the emergency room."
"Gee, I hope he'll be alright," Flora replied. Then she added, "Oh, Chief Wallace was just dropping off his keys. He's moving out, you know. We were having a farewell drink."
"Yeah, I know," her husband told her. To the Chief he said, "I guess you'll be staying on Base until your ship takes off?"
Chief Wallace said yes and the Manager stared at the glass. He knew they only had beer in the refrigerator. "What? No alcohol? Not much of a farewell drink for a Spacer."
"It'll be all work for me from now on," Chief Wallace deliberately took a sip of his soda. "Have to leave my drinking for the weekends. Speaking of which…"
The Spacer rose, "I gotta be getting back to base. Have a full day ahead of me tomorrow."
The Manager extended his hand and they shook. "Good luck, Chief. It was nice having you stay with us."
Chief Wallace thanked him and walked over to Flora, handing her his glass. "Thanks for (a slight pause) the drink, M'am."
His fingers grazed against hers as she took the glass, and when he stepped out the front door he heard her husband asking, "How come you're wearing your tee-shirt inside-out?"
