Honey Do This And That Ch 02 Ellen

Honey do...this and that. Ellen 2

2,899 words

11-minute read

This is the second installment, a New Year's Day project. Please provide feedback and scoring.

All are over eighteen years of age.

A continuation from 'Honey do...this and that' 1

Ellen and I, Dale, continued the next night in her spa-hot tub; it wasn't six seconds of submersion when Ellen arose from the depths with the crown of my cock firmly held between her teeth. I wasn't in pain; however, I was hard enough within six seconds of reaching the surface for whatever was going to be next.

She said, with my cock still in her teeth, "If I chew, what will happen?"

"I will shoot come down your throat," I replied.

"I haven't ever had that happen, "Ellen replied, mumbling and laughing.

"What?"

"Oh, fuck, Ellen." And with that grunt, I came in her mouth.

My come was trapped, Ellen was in heaven, and I was ready to fuck again.

Biting down, Ellen was surprised at how much I withstood; no, actually, I enjoyed the pain, she thought, because I quickly pushed my cock deeper into her mouth as though face fucking her. Ellen immediately began to come when my cock seemed to take over the action's control.

Ellen came with my rock-hard cock pushing the limits of her mouth's room; it started to go deep into her throat, coming to rest with her chin pushed completely into my pubic hair.

I said, "Now then, Ellen, who is going to be in charge tonight? I think we share passive and aggressive personalities. It will be better if we can get them synched."

"When I was in Vietnam, the hooch cleaner was submissive and fun. However, I know that every few encounters, I like to be controlled, so Mai brought her Mother for a threesome."

"Because Mai, the cleaner, couldn't bring herself to tell me what to do, she asked her Mother, Claire, who never hesitated."

"Claire was a cock and cunt eating fool. She was sixty-seven in 1963, I was twenty, and Mai would never tell me how old she was because she'd heard that Western women didn't tell their age."

"My hooch was a restricted Navy Command barracks. A tent on a mud floor, three bunks of two tiers, with only three permanent occupants. The three top bunks were empty for the Command's traveling personnel to utilize."

"The other two permanent guys were nurse advisers. They were always rotating through the different outposts, offering nursing skills to the troopers and the civilian friendlies, so they seldom were at the hooch."

"Mai and Claire took up living from the top of my bunk. One would clean, one would cook, one would do the wash, and one would change the sheets, etc. The costumes of Vietnam are beautiful, if not ugly, also. Claris, as she was known since she ran a whore house for the French when the French were in Viet Nam, decided for us that when others were in the hooch for the night, the three of us would sleep in my rack."

"Claris was a lingerie model, it seemed like. When just us three of us were in the hooch, she would strip to a bra and panty or thong. Her skinny ass would fold over, so she always looked naked from the back. Her tits had nursed six of her own children, all from different French troopers and innumerable orphans through French occupation and again during the earliest rumblings with McNamara."

"Picture a twenty-year-old warrior, a frail, seventy-year-old tiny Vietnamese woman, and a 'hot' youngish Vietnamese woman who'd known abuse, all attempting to share a hootch that was regularly under fire and attack. They never knew who might appear at any hour of the day to take up quarters for a day or even a few weeks."

"None of the other permanent and traveling occupants seemed to care, and many seemed to relish a wild threesome or group fuck. Claire had it on for both of the other hooch mates, so they never wanted for sex. Mai and I fucked and sucked without inhibition around Claris, as Claris only cared when we had stopped. She would hover close and provide clean up to both. The cleaning often meant simply a change of partners and positions, as Claris always ate pussy as her first course.

Ellen interrupted my reminiscing. She was standing in the hot tub with one foot on the bench and the other on the edge. Her pinkness would have been visible if the lights were on, but Dale did see that the hair on her crotch had been trimmed." Dale, look at this! This is a pussy that is going to sit on your face if you don't stop talking about fucking a seventy-year-old woman. My God, Get down here now. This less than seventy-year-old horny nearly a virgin is horny enough to eat herself - if only she were able."

A silence went on while I ate her, and then she said, "I would if I could, you know, Dale. I know very little about sex, but I do know that if I could eat my pussy, and, more hopefully, suck my clitoris, I would."

I worked on Ellen for at least five minutes, and then we both tired and sat back in the hot water.

Ellen started to say something, hesitated, and then stayed quiet. Dale watched her and realized she was eventually going to say it, so he sipped his Jack and Coke and waited.

While waiting, his thoughts were like a porn film running in his mind.

He was imagining watching Mai eat Ellen, who would be blowing him. He was twenty years younger, and so were the images of Mai, but Ellen was her trim, fit self with bigger tits, areolae, and huge nipples that were cones on the ends of her firm skin.

Ellen surprised him by saying, "You know, Dale, all of my college and high school friends are raising school-age kids, sleeping with a man each night, and building a life of family. At my age, if kids are to be a part of my life, I still have a few years left to have them. Still, a connection to a man with the same ethics, standards, and integrity as I have is rare. They are usually already married or not interested in siring kids for me."

A longish silence hung in the air, and Dale scooted around beside Ellen, put his hand on her thigh, and said, "Ellen, you are a treasure for someone to find. Where have you shown your womanhood?"

"I haven't. I focused on my career and wore blinders until recently when I attended a college alma mater affair and became aware of how absolutely desolate and alone I am going to be later in life on the path I am living."

"Ellen, we have gone from cunnilingus to philosophy in less than a few minutes. I suggest we exit the tub, go in, fix dinner, and discuss this when your pussy isn't getting closer to my fingers. What do you say?"

"Okay."

"Lamb chops? Dale, you are a real treasure. I love lamb. I have some Pinot from Willamette. What fun. How does this fit for you living here? Have I made you nervous? Would you sire a child for me? I don't even know your kids's names, Dale. But I would let you name mine."

"I have gone from a sheltered fearful, tight-assed legal scholar to a wanton, constantly seeping vaginal quagmire of lust. My need has been triggered since you came to look at my house for the first time. And now, you live here, sleeping in my bed, eating my come and slime-coated vagina. You have fucked me six times in a day and two hours. You lick and suck on my clitoris, kiss and fondle, and caress my breasts until I come and kiss me like the French would. And like a snowman, we exchange fluids. You suck come and cunt juice from me after sex. What more can happen? Where is this going?"

"You, Ellen, need to take an active dominant position in finding and searching for the right man. Have you considered that maybe you aren't looking for a man, maybe a woman? Adoption is how two of my lesbian clients have a family. And, of course, there is a legal way to get semen from a sperm bank. But maybe you and I can work an arranged relationship if things change like I think they are going to. If I can get divorced, my whole situation will change, of course."

We cuddled, removed our robes, and returned to the hot tub. Ellen sat on the edge while I licked, kissed, tongued, fingered, and photographed her from her face to her toes.

An exhibitionist was born that second evening. We took the three rolls of 35mm film I had and then fucked like rabbits.

I said, "What has gotten into you, Ellen? Do you like that camera lens or the idea of someone seeing your cunt, asshole, tits, and clitoris without knowing who, when, or where?"

"Dale, it is like I told you earlier. I want to do and experience everything, and I mean everything. In fact, Let's go to the store and get the equipment to take some fine art pictures. I know we have a digital camera at the office that doesn't need film and keeps the pictures on a memory stick. We agreed to go to the store where she bought studio lights, film, timers, and a studio digital camera."

As we were closing the sale, Ellen looked the clerk up and down and said, "Turn around, please."

"What?"

"I want to see your ass. Please spin around for me."

Slowly and skeptically, the clerk spun, swaying her hips and doing a curtain-call twirl.

Then the clerk turned Dale on when she said, "So, miss, do I pass inspection? Pretty tight for a camera hack, huh?"

"Ellen laughed and then said," What is a camera hack?"

"An amateur photographer is a hack, and I am an amateur, so I refer to myself as a camera hack."

"Do you make house calls? Can you set up all of this equipment for me?"

"Yes, and yes. I can leave here when I finish your purchase. When are you going to shoot?"

"We already did some, and I realized it was not adequate, so I decided to improve my equipment. What do you charge?"

"My rates depend on the job. I can and am willing to come by now if you would like."

"Alright, Ann, see you in the pictures."

When Ann arrived, I had the things in the family room and placed the camera on the charger, unfolded the lights, and started the timers and memory box.

Ann stepped right up with a question: " First, what are you taking pictures of, and how focused do you want the images to be? This camera allows you to smudge spots on the screen to hide things you do not want in a photo."

Ellen asked questions about operating and focus, light angles, brightness, and a whole raft of other things that I'd never have thought to ask before the need to know arrived. I guess that is one of the differences that makes attorneys such overwhelming assholes ninety-nine percent of the time.

They need to know. I want to know--two differing levels of interest.

I kept waiting for Ellen to answer Ann's question. Eventually, Ann out-waited Ellen, and Ellen had to say something.

"What kind of photography do you do, Ann?"

"I do weddings only for friends, pets for a dog groomer, and boudoir shoots, mostly contract work."

"Do you ever get on the other side of the lens?"

"Seldom, I am not camera shy; in fact, I am an active exhibitionist. I have a gig I do for two months a year in Europe where I display myself in a street-side window like a whore advertising her body. But I would love to be the focus instead of the focuser for once in a studio-like setting. I do shoots where drinking, smoking, and playing naughty all while being photographed are the job, but only as an observer, i.e., photographer."

"Well, Ann, we were going to do exactly what you have described. Photograph ourselves, we thought. Our issue is that we cannot afford a photographer, so we are stuck with timer shots at best."

"Ann here is the offer: in exchange for a shoot of you here, any way you want it to look, you will shoot Dale and me in as many settings as we want. You need to know that it won't be R-rated, not even X-rated. It will be porn and live amateur porn. What do you think?"

"I have only one question. Have you both been tested? And did you get certificates to prove it? They all exchanged certificates, and Dale was the first to undress, but he undressed Ann because he wanted to see those balloons she was hiding in her camera smock.

When they were all naked, Dale marveled at the oversized breasts that Ann had on her chest and liked the wide and puffy lips smeared with slime from her vagina. He quickly asked and got the go-ahead to finger and taste Ann.

Then Ellen and Ann were kissing and fingering until they broke apart and began 69 to orgasms. While they were busy on each other, Dale slipped his cock in Ann's ass, which was as loose and slimy as her cunt.

It was neigh onto three a.m. when they all adjourned to the bed, where Ellen sat on Dale's face and kissed Ann as she rode Dale's barely stiff cock. After the two women had come, they sucked and kissed Dale's cock until they all fell asleep.

At eight o'clock, Dale woke to feel a cunt sliding around his cock, and a hand stroking him. When he yawned and said, "Good morning." One cunt slid into his mouth, and another cunt slid down his cock. He had morning wood, so he lasted through climaxes from both women. The bed was made a pissy-smelling, come-stained, slimy mess.

Breakfast was fast, and everyone hugged and said goodbyes, someone said, "Let's do it again," and then all went about their day.

Days of that same wild kind of sexually focused living with Ellen went by as Dale worked on gutters, plumbing, and electrical. He painted out the smallest bathroom and then the entire house inside. Then, one day at five-thirty, he realized he had nearly completed the lists of repairs for Ellen. It had been five weeks and pages of charges on invoices.

Dale made dinner arrangements at the Mark Hotel Executive Club for the upcoming weekend. He bought flowers, a card, wildly sexy lingerie, and four different types of sex play toys. He had a small black box with a pale blue lining and ribbon.

The meal was ordered, and the wine was selected and decanted. The table was curtained from the restaurant area and opened to the deck outside the table. The city view was unequaled within thousands of miles.

That afternoon, Dale treated her to a couple's massage and spa treatment; while there, he had the local top-tier women's dress department bring a few LBDs. He helped her choose one for the evening. They together chose the mesh one. It allowed her nipples to push through the fabric and did nothing to disguise the strip of black pubic hair above her rouged labia. It scooped her breasts into jeopardy of falling free, and the hem was one inch lower than her labia hung below her vagina. She was decent, but only almost.

Ellen was so happy that night; she was bubbly, sexy, and exhibitionistic. They danced and drank and fondled until the Club was closing.

As the lights were being turned down, Dale placed the little black box at her dinner place. She looked at the box and looked up at him. He looked at her face, dropped his eyes to her tits, placed his hand on her thigh, and looked again at her face, tits, and then at the box. He tilted his head slightly. And she slowly fondled the box, pulling the ribbon off with her teeth. When she opened the box, she didn't know why he would give her an empty ring box. Puzzled, she turned the box around, and there was nothing there. She looked up to his smiling face and said, "Please explain, Dale."

"There isn't enough time left in my life to raise a child with you, Ellen. However, we can always secretly perform a secret wedding with the ring in that box, and then we can have all the kids you can pump through that tight little cunt. My divorce is certain, so I made a first plan."

"What, Dale, is your first plan?"

"To knock you up."

I sold the family home and moved across town into the bright, fresh, and well-maintained home where my invisible ring was christened with sperm every day until her baby-birthing pussy got filled with growing fetus tissue. We named the baby long before it arrived, and about the time her postpartum sexual prohibition ended, we filled her up again.

Ellen lived through two childbirths and died during the third. I am a divorced, single, widowed father of fifty-nine with three kids under four years old.

I will never quit 'Honey do...' I did a good job on my Honey...