Chris Simon - A real hot number

She squeezed my cock again.

"Goodnight," she said again. "Goodnight."

She hung up the receiver. Her eyes were cold blue, and an icy flicker of something shone through.

"Let's go into the bedroom," Ellen Marshall said. "We can do it now…"

We walked slowly into the bedroom. My hand was still wet from her cunt, and my cock was like a rigid flagpole as I walked, swaying from side to side through the open zipper of my pants. Ellen walked just ahead of me, leading me into my own bedroom.

Pure hatred, I thought, thinking back to the conversation. He must have hurt her very badly for her to go to these lengths to get even. I wonder what it was he did?

Her hatred made me feel strangely passionate. I felt as if I were her tool. Her tool of revenge. It wasn't me that she was making love to, it was her own hatred. My cock was a disembodied instrument for her, and I doubted whether she cared much that it was attached to my body or to my personality. It wasn't me she wanted; it was any man, any cock. And judging from the conversation, mine wasn't the first.

Yet, strangely, I found myself not objecting to her treatment. I felt excited by the idea, by the coldness of her deliberation. There was something almost dispassionate about my growing passion, about my knowledge that she was using my body – my cock – for revenge.

"Take your clothes off," she instructed.

"What about you?" I asked. I felt like a puppet who wanted to have his strings pulled. Did I want to be used?

"Look!" she said. "It's got to be my way or nothing at all! It doesn't make any difference to me."

I knew it didn't make any difference. If I didn't fulfill my role, she would simply find someone else. It certainly would be a waste to lose her. For all her coldness, Ellen Marshall was a fantastic piece of ass.

"How are you going to make love with your clothing on?" I asked.

"We are not going to make love," she said. "We're not even going to fuck…"

Her hair looked so straight and blond; soft almost, and her eyes burning coldly. "What then?" I asked.

"I'm going to suck your cock," she said. Simply.

I touched my own hard-on and caressed it as I looked at her. "Suck it?"

"Until you cum," she said.

My cock was still wet from her coating of saliva. I moved my hand slowly up and down, feeling small washes of excitement tickling through my loins.

"Until I cum in…"

"Yes," she said. "In my mouth."

I looked at her. "What about you?"

"Don't worry about me," she said. "Now, take your things off."

I followed her instructions. I unbuttoned my shirt and placed it on the bed next to me. Then I unbuckled my belt and stepped out of my pants. My cock was almost red against the paleness of my stomach.

"Your socks, too," she said.

I pulled them off. I was completely naked now. I had nothing at all on.

"Lie on the bed," she instructed.

I sat on the edge of the bed. My hard-on was against the flesh of my thigh, running parallel to my legs.

"Lie back," she said.

I did, feeling the cool touch of the sheets under my shoulders. The bed supported me firmly, comfortably. I placed my folded arms under my head, supporting my neck, and my cock popped to stiff attention from between my closed legs. It stood away from my body like a handle in the middle of my stomach. Down, between my parted legs, standing next to the edge of the bed, I could see Ellen Marshall.

She reached forward and wrapped her fingers around my cock. Her hand was still wet, and she began to slide it up from the base. My cock slid through her soft hand. When she reached the end of the cock, she squeezed the head, then returned her hand to the base and commenced her upward motion again.

"Open you legs more," she said.

I did, and she stepped closer to me, moving between my legs. She pressed her thighs against the mattress. I watched the hemline of her skirt rise slightly as she leaned forward to touch me. Her thighs were very pale, and parted slightly. I could see just the faintest shadows between the flesh of her thighs. She moved her left leg closer to me, and I felt the swell of her leg pressed lightly against the inner part of my thigh, just above my knee. The secret caress made my cock twitch.

She continued to move her hand with the same deliberate tempo, slowly bringing me to peak after peak of intense excitement. She opened and closed her fingers, gripping with various amounts of pressure as she moved her hand up and down my cock. She tangled her fingers into the dark jungle of pubic hairs at the base of my cock, pulling the hairs as her hand moved, bringing stings of pain to heighten my level of pleasure.

I brought my knees up, placing the flat of my feet on the bed, so that my cock was in the valley of my body. I began to press upward with my middle, bringing my stomach up to greet the downward thrusts of Ellen's hands along the fat path of my moist cock. My back began to curve upward, towards her, but she continued with the same, slow and intensely stimulating pumping of her hand.

"If you don't put it into your mouth soon," I said, gritting my teeth, "I'm going to cum from this…"

She nodded. Whether it was to herself or in acknowledgment of what I said, I didn't know. But she nodded, then squeezed my cock, and finally stopped.

"Stay there," she said. "Don't move or don't touch me. If you do I'll stop."

That was enough for me. I watched her through my legs.

She stepped back from me and put her hand up to the side of her blue skirt. She undid the button, and then unzippered the short zipper. She slid the skirt down her long legs until it was at her ankles. Then she stepped out of it… Her hips swelled widely across the middle of her body, and the blue material of her panties were stretched over the bumps and curves. She slipped her hands into the waistband of the panties and began to pull them down her legs, over the wide swell of her hips. The panties began to roll slightly, revealing the blond patch of her pubic hair.

She stepped out of the panties and touched her cunt. Her fingers curved under her mound, and she grabbed herself and squeezed. Her cunt was wet, and I heard the soft crunch her hand made against her pussy hair. She opened her legs more and rubbed her hand up and down between her thighs.

The sight of her cunt made my hard-on grow harder and longer. Her cunt was wide and full, and stretched between her thighs like a golden meadow of summer wheat. Her hair was downy soft, and her cunt lips hung down full and richly, like the soft folds of heavy drapery. Her belly was flat, and the tails of her blouse flapped erotically against the splashed sunlight of her crotch.

She bent forward, placing her head over my crotch. She supported herself with both her hands, and stood for a moment, poised above my hard-on, with her lips wet, her mouth parted slightly.

Then she moved down. My cock slid into her mouth.

I moaned at the contact. Her mouth was like warm water, like a pool of wet heat bathing the flesh of my cock. I could feel nothing but the wetness of her mouth; not her teeth, not her tongue: only her wet mouth. She took the complete length of my organ down her throat. I felt the nuzzling scrape of her lips against the base of my stomach. It was as though she were eating me entirely; balls and all.

Then her mouth began to move. Her tongue tightened around the shaft of my cock, wrapping itself like a moist membrane against it. Her tongue stretched, molded itself against me so that the complete length of my cock felt the sexy, elusive wet pressure of her tongue, from swollen round head, to thick base. Her tongue was like a glove filled with Vaseline that had been plunged around my cock: soft, sensual, thick, slippery.

I felt her teeth biting at the base of my cock. She ground them back and forth, grinding their sharp edges into the hard flesh of my cock. She moved her head around, completing the biting circle at the base of my stomach. I felt the dribble of her saliva running like a fountain down my cock.