Onan's Revenge

Anat had a fascination with semen. When we first started dating, she only wanted to give me hand jobs. I wanted more, but she was gorgeous, beguiling, and silly and smart all at once, with pointy small breasts and an angular, high cheek boned face. Her eyes were tantalizingly pale blue. If she wanted to watch me come, I would not begrudge her that. More could wait.

"I love this," she said huskily, gripping me hard, not really pumping my dick, but applying pressure to the base. It was maddening. I wanted her mouth or pussy, but I wanted this woman to take things in her own stride. This was in the first month of our dating - her hand job phase. She was leaning over me, her top off, and those darling, small breasts that I was now permitted to fondle, were just inches away from my mouth.

"What do you love," I panted, repeating her words as she continued to form a tight ring around the base of my cock. "My playing with your tits?"

"I don't care about that," she answered, somewhat annoyed. "Boobs are nothing but bags of fat. Well, don't get me wrong, I like it when guys squeeze or suck on them. But that's a side show. I love pumping cock!"

"You're not really pumping, Anat," I answered, nearly whimpering. "You are squeezing."

"Does it hurt?" she asked, loosening her grip.

"No, just pump it. I need to come."

"Come then," she ordered, bringing her hand up to my tip and down to the shaft in rapid motions. "Do it. I'll squeeze your balls. Here," she shifted, so she was beneath me. She pulled my balls painfully. "Come on my tits. Coat me, you bastard."

And I yelled, and cursed, and I shot her around her neck, tits, even on her forehead. It was an excruciating but necessary release.

When I was done, I lay back on the couch, with my forearm covering my eyes. Who was this girl?

"Amazing," she said, gazing at my sperm on her skin. "This literally came out of you - your life force - and it's on me now. When you come it's like your soul is coming through your cock."

"My God," I gasped. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Then I laughed, how could I not? She was crazy and amazing. She laughed too.

"You enjoyed yourself," she smirked. "But you sinned. The sin of Onan. You spilled your seed... not on the ground, but on my tits. When we fuck, you have to come deep inside of me, and not spill a drop. Promise me that?"

And I did.

The month of Anat's Hand, as I called it, lasted, almost to the day. We had dinner, and walked down Dizengoff Avenue, and then retired to her little basement apartment. She wore bright patterns that more or less mismatched, polka dots and stripes, checkered patterns and swirling shapes. We sat down on her couch, and her warm face turned toward me. Her cheeks were flushed from too much wine.

"You've been patient with my experiment," she said, gently touching my arm. "I'm going to reward you. But you must do exactly as I say. Do you promise?" Of course I did. My member was painfully hard beneath my pants.

"OK," she said, standing up. She lifted her dress over her head, paused, and smiled at me. Her shoulders were slim and taut, her small breasts clung jealousy to her body, upright, proud and beguilingly round. She was just in her panties. She gripped the waistband, and with a fluid stroke, exposed her button half. Her cleft was neat, tapered. She turned around for me to view her: her ass was tiny, and she bent forward, revealing her insides. She turned around. Her hands on her hips.

"Pull down your pants," she ordered, and I quickly obeyed. She lay on her belly beside me, the long stretch of her slim back falling away like the rush of a waterfall. She pulled my cock; was I in for another hand job. I was not.

"I'm going to take you in my mouth," she told me in a whisper. "Most men think this is dirty. But it's not. I am taking a part of you inside me, and it is sacred. Most men think their cocks are made of iron, but it's just flesh. It takes a great deal of trust to put your cock in a girl's mouth. Do you trust your cock in my mouth? Do you trust me to be a good steward of your cock?"

"I do," I answered dryly. I was dying.

"Also," she said firmly. "Don't touch me. Concentrate on my mouth. On the opening into my body I'm giving you."

She opened her mouth and took the head in. Her tongue played with the tip, with the hole, and I let out a long, low moan. It was too much. I felt as if this would kill me. She sucked - literally - taking the upper part into her mouth, and applying pressure with her intake of air.

"No, no..." I groaned "It's too much. I can't."

"Shhh," she answered, dropping my cock from her mouth, placing her hands on my chest. I went to stroke the soft blonde down on her arms, but she pushed me away. "Don't touch, only the mouth..." then she went in deep.

She pushed my cock all the way in, bringing me to the back of her throat. She was struggling to breathe, and I tried to pull her off, it was too much, but she was surprisingly strong. She held me tightly. I did not hold out much longer.

"Stop..." I begged. "I'm going to come in your mouth!" She pulled out, and drew a ragged breath. "Do it," she whispered huskily. "Fuck my mouth like a cunt. I won't give you my cunt yet, so fuck this as if it is. Get mad at me for not giving you my pussy, you bastard!"

I grasped her by her arms, I didn't care about not touching her, and tossed her to the couch. I jumped on top of her face, and fed her my cock. She opened, and took it readily. I started pumping without control.

"You want me to fuck your mouth like a cunt," I hissed, "then open that mouth like a pussy. Take it deep. Choke on this damn thing. You fucking whore." I only pumped one or two more times, and then squirted into her mouth. It felt like my seed was being sucked down a vacuum chamber. I was like my dick was being cut in two. I cursed her, called her a bitch and a whore, and she moaned in appreciation, and swallowed it all. I pulled away from her, panicked.

"Anat, my God, I'm so sorry," on hearing me, she sat up, and stroked my arm.

"No," she answered softly. "That's what I wanted. I want to feel your great power - men have sexual power. A girl that holds a man back, isn't doing herself any favors. I want you to use me, and I want to use you. I want to see and feel you come. I need to feel your vital force spraying out of you. I need it in my belly. Treat my mouth like a cunt."

And for the rest of that month I did just that.

"You're still a sinner," she said on Sunday morning as she took her clothes off and got into bed. I had gotten used to her mouth sucking me dry. I had started to think of it as her vagina, although I knew that that was between her legs. She now allowed me to stroke her breasts, her ass, and the crack from her buttocks to her pussy. But I always came deeply inside her mouth; and she always swallowed me just as deeply.

"Well," I answered, taking off my clothes, about to join her. "We're not married - so I suppose we are both sinning."

"But you are sinning more," she answered. "You're not allowed to come anywhere but in a woman's pussy. Not in her hand, her mouth, or in her ass. You can fuck a girl there, but you have to come in her cunt. God said so; it's in Genesis. It's Onan's sin."

"I think his sin is that he didn't impregnate his brother's wife. That was his duty. Spilling his come on the ground was just ancillary."

"Don't split hairs," she scolded. "The actions are one in the same. It was his duty to give her a child, therefore he had to come inside her cunt. The same action: fuck and come inside her. And he didn't, so God killed him. He had it coming."

"Well," I chuckled. "I came in your hand for a month, and then in your mouth, but never in your pussy. And that was your choice."

"I don't use contraceptives."

"I could use a condom."

"That dumb," she spat. "That is spilling your seed like Onan. Just inside me... inside a rubber sheath."

"Well, what do you want Anat?" I asked, slightly annoyed now. "You've been calling the shots now for two months, what now?"

"We've been calling the shots," she laughed. "I tell you what to do, but you agree. You can say no. You're doing what you want to do. You have a filthy mouth. You like to degrade me - treat me like a cheap whore because it makes you come harder."

"Anat!" I snapped. "You enjoy it. You told me to do so and you call yourself those names too!"

"Again," she answered, now tugging my growing hard on, "that is beside the point. You'd come anyway. What is said or not said is ancillary to the act." Suddenly I was cross with her. I moved away from her. There was a pause. Were we really going to have our fist fight? After all the words, games and crazy orgasms.

"Come on," she finally said, pulling toward me. Her little body leaned on mine, her long legs arched over and brushed my balls. My cock was so hard I was in pain. "We both want the same thing. You want to come. And I want you to come. Now I'm ready. You can come in my pussy. I don't care if I get pregnant. That's natural. I don't expect anything from you after you come. Do your divine duty. We have to obey God's orders.

She took my hand and placed it between her legs. I did not move. I was still cross. She moved it for me, and I loosened up. A finger moved in her groove, then into her cunt hole. Her cunt was very tight, gripping my finger, and she was dripping wet.

"Ahh," she purred. "Feel how tight my cunt is. Imagine how your cock will feel in here, and it is so much bigger than your finger. And you can come into me. And you can say anything you want. Call me what you wish: I want the first time you come into my pussy to be explosive."

I couldn't take any more from Anat, it was all too much, these last two months, the words, the games, the semen spraying everywhere. I would have her on my terms.

"Damn you," I said between cleaned teeth, and pushed her deep in the bed. In two fluid motions I hoisted her legs in the air, so high the angle was dangerous, and in the second move, I sank my cock deep into her, to the hilt, and we both let out long moans. I began to pump her wildly, without control, I attacked her pussy at hard angles, slamming into her body, caring only about my own pleasure.

"You bitch," I spat. "I'm going to come deep inside you, and there is nothing you can do. You'll take every drop of it." She made noises I never heard before, a hard breathing halfway between a groan and a plea. Finally, she got some words out:

"That's it, that's it. Use me. Pour you come into me. You son of a bitch. God is happy. God is happy."

And in a spasm of release, I did just that. I poured my come into the cunt. My scream was inhuman. It felt like climbing up Everest, or swimming down to the Mariana Trench. Would I survive? Would I plant my seed into her but still be killed by God as God killed Onan?

Only after I feel beside her, and he slim arm followed the outline of my still hard penis, that I knew I was alive, and that God was indeed happy.