Chapter 16
Now that was the final straw! Rod knew what he ought to do. He ought to stand up abruptly, dump this little tease on the floor, and to hell with what she might say. But thinking it, he knew he wouldn't -- couldn't. After years of dealing with women on his own terms, this adolescent had casually walked into his life and touched some trigger so secret that not even Rod had known it had been there waiting all these years to enslave him.
She had him good. He couldn't stop her. He couldn't do anything that might endanger any chance, however slim, of getting his hands onto that lovely unused body. My god, he thought with sudden chagrin, in spite of one attempted rape and one bungled seduction, this girl was in all probability a virgin! Now how about that! A teenage virgin trying to undress him! The least he could do was help.
She had managed the buckle and was fiddling with the button of his waistband. Then finally she had deciphered that combination and was teasing away at the tab of his zipper. With a mental sigh for broken resolutions, Rod eased himself off the edge of the bed. As he half stood Ellie slid off his lap. Still murmuring 'yes, Momma' into the phone, she began pulling his pants down around his ankles. He sat down again and she pulled them off, bran-dished them like some captured flag, and tossed his pants into a corner. Rod reached for her but little Ellie, still holding the phone, danced just out of reach.
How far away was. her momma? The girl was fiddling with his shirt buttons now. Would there be time? Or would little Ellie turn coy and chicken out once she got his boxer shorts off and saw the great thumping hunk of masculinity that had made countless women's eyes bulge at first sight and bulge even more once they felt its firm length all the way up their unsuspecting cunts?
He grabbed again but she was just out of reach. He could stand up and chase her to the end of the telephone cord, Rod knew. But he also suspected any such maneuver would entail giggles and shrieks and an interruption to the soothing flow of 'yes, Mommas' that little Ellie kept murmuring into that instrument. What the hell was momma up to? Why couldn't she stop running up a bill and just come and pick up her kid and get the fuck out of his life -- providing she took long enough getting here for a fuck.
Still holding the phone with her chin, Ellie came closer. He wanted to grab her but she was pulling his long sleeved shirt off and he had to hold his arms straight down if she were ever to complete the job. Her face came within inches of his. He leaned forward, trying to kiss her. He missed but managed to capture the clean sweet smell of a freshly bathed woman who had not yet had time to stink herself up with perfume. His cock gave a sudden leap.
Christ but his cock was throbbing! He could feel it rise and strain against the fabric of his boxer shorts. It was funny the girl hadn't pulled them off too but he guessed she wanted to make a production out of it, unveil him, one thing at a time until she could admire the undraped magnificence of his masculinity. Rod wondered if she would return the compliment, let him take that tiny, next-to-nothing halter off her, peel down those skintight short shorts which emphasized every crack and crinkle of her crotch and were more erotically arousing than even the ineffable sight of her bare quiff might turn out to be. Oh Jesus, how he wanted to reach out and grab her, bury his face in that lovely smooth little bare belly, pull off that halter and shorts, kiss and lick those tiny pink virginal nipples into thrumming rigidity, kiss the smooth sensual softness of her smooth skinned inner thigh -- oooooohhhh WOW!
Just thinking about it nearly drove him mad with desire. Would momma ever hang up that goddam phone so he could get on with it? Where was she? How long would they have before momma came pounding on the door? He would have to allow time for a shower, for dressing. And they couldn't really go at it no-holds-barred the way a first time fuck deserved. The slightest abrasion or bruise on this lovely clear skin would require explanations, and explanations, and explanations. And goddam momma! Hang up for Christ's sake!
"Yes, Momma, I'll tell him," Ellie said. She was tugging at his undershirt now. Rod bent to help her and she began pulling it over his head. He put out his arms and managed to brush them across her legs in the brief moment before he had to straighten so she could pull his tee shirt the rest of the way. Even this tiny adventure in eroticism managed to endow his throbbing cock with an extra tingle.
"Momma wants me to be sure not to make a pest of myself," Ellie said, talking to him over the mouthpiece. Rod reached for her and the girl danced tantalizingly, just out of reach. She had stripped him down to socks and boxer shorts now and he had still not even managed to get a decent handful of the girl, much less start to undress her. He reminded himself that he had made up the rules of this silly game, that technically, the girl had already lost by talking on the telephone. But what did rules have to do with fucking?
Ellie came within reach but when he put out his arms to capture that elusive little body she gave him a playful push that sent him backward until he was sitting once more on the edge of the bed. She captured his right foot and, still murmuring 'yes, Momma,' into the phone, began peeling off his sock. Rod guessed he might as well relax. At least she was heading in the right direction.
Ellie dropped the phone. It bounced noiselessly on the bed and she recaptured it, once more to murmur 'yes, Momma' while twisting her taut torso around to capture his other foot. Now she had him down to nothing but boxer shorts. Sitting on the bed, they didn't stick out at such an absurd angle but still the intransigence of his erection was clearly visible.
Still murmuring into the phone, Ellie posed before him just out of reach, inviting his aching hands to grab her taut body. Rod didn't want to. This was not the way he worked. Rod had learned over the years that eagerness can ruin more promising situations than were ever lost from waiting too long. It was his way with women to offer encouragement, but never to force himself upon them. This diffidence tended to put women off guard, to force them onto the offensive -- and once maneuvered into this position no woman could take offense if she suddenly found herself in the not unpleasant position of being caught between the mattress and Rod's rampant rod.
What the hell? Wasn't this exactly where he was at the moment? He was letting this obliging little girl undress him. But goddam oh Jesus, how he wanted to get his hands on that firm little body! Finally he realized what she was up to -- as if it were all that difficult! He stood and made a halfhearted grab at her, knowing she would not be there by the time his hands were. And he was right. Instead, she was kneeling before him, still holding the telephone with her ear and chin, using both hands to peel his boxer shorts down, at long last unveiling that splendid spear that jutted from the graying thicket of his crotch.
"Oooooohhhh yes, Momma!" Ellie said into the phone. "I'm fine. No, I'm not catching cold."
She stood again and backed away to admire the undraped fullness of Rod's lean muscular body. Rod watched her eyes and saw them grow larger as she took in for the first time the full splendor of his rampant, hard throbbing hammer. From her unbelieving look he knew the little girl had not expected it to be that large. He hoped she wouldn't be frightened. Christ, telephone or not, he didn't want to stop now!
Ellie stood back, still murmuring into the phone, and stared at his cock. Rod looked down to see if there was anything wrong. Remembering that he was forty-five, that it was not all that easy to get it up any more, he considered the full firm erection this girl's taut body had elicited from him. No, he guessed, there was nothing wrong. Jesus, how his cock was throbbing!
It was not, as cocks go, all that big. Rod was six two, weight a hundred seventy, and even in his prime had never sported more than seven solid inches. Thanks to conservative -- and impecunious -- parents, he had never been circumcised. From the loose fitting foreskin peeped the angry purple tip of his sharp pointed, well-flared cock-head. Behind it an elegantly thin, heavy veined shank jutted from his graying pubic patch. His cock stood straight out from his body, jerking slightly in time with his heartbeat.
Ellie seemed fascinated by this prodigious prod. Rod didn't mind her looking at it. After all, this instrument had done him creditable service for thirty years. It was nothing to be ashamed of. But he had looked at it every day of his life. He was more interested in what little Ellie had inside that impossibly brief halter, inside those skin-tight short shorts. He reached for her, beckoning. God damn it -- did she want to undress him just to look at him? This was no time to stop.
"Yes, Momma," Ellie murmured, still studying Rod's rod. She moved closer and put out a hand. Rod remembered that she had asked if she could touch it. What the hell? Let her satisfy her curiosity. She had seen one old man's when he tried to rape her -- probably been too frightened to even notice whether it had one head or three. And that one bungled seduction with the pimply faced car park attendant... Probably poor Arthur had stuffed it back into his pants before he even finished coming all over the lovely trim little belly he'd been too anxious to get into. It was funny. Little Ellie with the nearly bare and impossibly cock-stiffening body -- little Ellie who talked so glibly about rape and seduction. This was probably the first time she had ever gotten a really good look at a cock. He stood, legs slightly apart, thrusting his pelvis toward her. He put his hands behind his back and waited.
Ellie came toward him cautiously. "Yes, Momma," she said with a hint of annoyance, "I am being careful." She put out a hand and captured the gently waving tip of his tool.
Rod struggled, gritted his teeth, tried frantically to do multiplication tables, and finally managed to control himself and not to put the solution in Ellie's hot little hand. She squeezed it, put a curious fingertip to his foreskin, peeled it partway back to see the unveiled spearheaded splendor of his glans penis. She put a hand down to cup his balls, took it away quickly when his excited body made them squirm inside the wrinkled scrotum. The touch of her hand drove him nearly mad with the desire to grab her, undress her, lick and kiss her, FUCK HER!
Yet, he realized with lascivious bemusement, she was not even trying to turn him on. She was not caressing, squeezing and tickling his cock the way an experienced woman would. Instead, she was touching it, feeling it as cautiously as some city child at the zoo touching a rabbit for the first time in his concrete bounded life. But Christ, how she was turning him on!
Rod tried to collect himself. He was seeing the girl through a pink fog of rut. Finally he realized that her curiosity had overcome her caution. He began very carefully curving his hands, moving his arms and then, striking suddenly, he had her by the waist.
"Yes, Momma," Ellie murmured into the phone. "He's treating me real nice."
God, what a firm little body! Not an ounce of fat or flab! Little Ellie possessed that combination of firm yet yielding softness that is found only in female athletes. He wondered if she was still supple and able to twist into unexpected and erotic shapes like that ballerina who had once done her best to marry him.
Ellie was fair caught now and he didn't intend to let go of her. Not for half an hour, at least. Telephone or no telephone, he got his hands on her waist -- nearly around it -- and began working those skintight short shorts down over the gentle roundness of her hips. She had a sensual, surprisingly deep navel for such a little girl. He sat back on the bed, spread his legs wide, and drew her unresisting body toward him. He bent over and stuck his tongue into her navel. Suddenly he didn't have to pull. Little Ellie was pushing.
Licking her, augering his tongue deep into her, he kept working at the waistband of those incredible, second-skin shorts, struggling to get them down over the curve of her hips.
"Momma, I'm not catching a cold. I feel fine."
Rod had worked the shorts down until he had exposed the top of the vee where one ass branches out into two legs. He worked diligently, pulling his tongue out of her navel from time to time to check his handiwork. He had them down to the beginning of the bony bulge of her moos veneris. It was smooth and hairless, which seemed to make it stand out even more from the gentle, nearly flat curve of her belly.
Then suddenly the shorts were free from the bulge of her hips. They hung inside out, held up only by her tightly clasped thighs. Ellie made a strangled little gurgling noise and moved her feet. She stood with her legs slightly apart while Rod, still augering his tongue into her navel, pulled her shorts down. She raised a foot and stepped out, then the other. He tossed the shorts in the same direction she had flung his pants.
"Momma, I'm not coughing, It's not cold here. Fm nice and warm. He's not going to let me catch cold."
Rod stood back and let his hand worm its gentle way up between Ellie's parted legs. He cupped the just-furring, still plainly visible lips of her vulva. God, what a lovely little snatch she had! Prominent mons veneris just beginning to grow a few wisps of ethereal blond hair, full pouting vulval lips that brought a sudden throb to his longsuffering cock. Jesus! She was so petite. Could he get his great thumping old war horse in there without hurting her? He pulled her to him again, burying his face in her belly with a sudden access of passion. Her thighs just above the knees were rubbing against the hot hammering tip of his tool. As he wrapped his arms around her ass and buried his face deeper in the soft firmness of her flawless little belly her thighs parted, then closed, trapping the tip of his raging rod between their softness. She squeezed her thighs tight over the head of his cock. Rod gasped and struggled to control himself. Oh Jesus, oh Marx and Engels, did it ever feel gooooood!
"But Momma," little Ellie was saying, "I'm not wearing my Barbarella outfit. Please, don't worry, I'm feeling nice and warm -- warmer every minute!"