The Makings of Ellen Ch. 02

The key slipped into the door's keyhole and unlocked the mechanism inside it. She held the door frame and gently eased it open, not wishing it to make any noise than it already would have. The living room was quiet and deserted. That was good. Ellen stepped into her house and quietly locked back the door.

She craved for a hot cup of coffee, but before that she had other things to do first. She went up the stairs and peeked into the children's room, saw them all snuggled and asleep in their beds and then quietly headed for hers. She took off her clothes—she wasn't wearing any panties this time as the remains of it were still back at her boss's place—and went into the bathroom to have herself a warm shower. The water cascaded down on her, soothing her over-wrought body. It did little to stem down the yearning throb she was having around her crotch. God, her pussy felt as if someone had lit a match to it. While she sponged herself, she couldn't help feeling her hand around it, inserting two fingers between her cunt's lips. She reflected on the bout of fucking she'd undergone an hour ago ... in her mind's eye she could still feel the girth of her boss's cock ... the brute manner with which he'd penetrated and fucked her madly with it. Now she was having doubts whether the pain would calm down before morning. Hopefully it would.

Her shower ended, Ellen returned to the bedroom and put on her night wear. She thought about going downstairs to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of coffee ... but was mindful about waking up the kids. She couldn't stomach being bombarded with questions from them about where she'd gone to, whom she'd gone to see, and why she'd return so late. That would all just have to wait till morning, and perhaps by then she would have dreamed up a perfect lie.

Her best option was to get herself some sleep. She slipped into the covers and turned off her table lamp.

* * * *

She came awake not by the alarm clock sounding off but by her cell phone ringing incessantly. She groaned as she reached for it while at the same time turning on the light of the table lamp, wondering who it might be. Her grumbling died when she saw that it was her husband calling—at 5:34 A.M.

"Hello honey," her voice sounded groggy even to herself.

"How're you doing, beautiful," came her husband's voice.

"Darling ... isn't it a little too early for you to be calling?

"I know, and I'm so sorry about it. It's going to be a lonely Saturday for me here without you, and I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice this lovely morning. How was your night?"

"My night was ..." she paused for a moment, biting down on her tongue. My God, how do I tell Tim what I'd done last night?

"Ellen? Ellen, are you there?"

"Yes ... yes, Tim, I'm here. Sorry about that, my mind was stuck on something else for a moment. Anyway, my night was fine ... just missing you though."

"I know you are, darling. I'm missing you and the kids as well. Say hi to them for me, and tell them how much I miss them."

"I'll do so. You be a good boy over there now. I'll talk to you again soon."

They said goodbye to each other before the call ended. Ellen looked at the time on her phone screen once again and sighed. She was feeling rather weak and tired but now that she'd come awake—all thanks to Tim—she found it hard slipping back into dreamland. Feeling frustrated, she got up from the bed and walked out of the room. Her destination was the kitchen, in search of that coffee she ought to have taken earlier.

In the kitchen, she heated a kettle of water on the stove and minutes later was seated at the kitchen table sipping hot coffee while staring at the approaching dawn in the sky outside the window. The throb that had been aching her crotch was no longer there. It was hard for her to believe that she hadn't been royally fucked the previous evening ... a mere hours ago. Royally fucked. She sniggered at the phase. No, a much better one would be that she had been royally well fucked, that's what it was. One of her mom's favourite anecdotes was that famous line of calling a spade by its name. She wondered what her mom would have thought had she been the one who'd been royally well fucked.

Was it rape?

Had her boss taken her against her will simply because she'd been too drunk to fight back at him? She was double-minded about this. It could be—it does sort of feel like it. If so, then she ought to be downright angry now. She could picture herself right now filing a law suit against him later in the day ... and yet she wasn't thinking about such. The onslaught of his cock still reverberated in her mind, and as vile and vindictive as she should be right now ... she was actually missing it. His cock had filled and fucked her pussy in so many ways that no man in her life had ever done, not even sweet Tim, her husband.

The day was just about breaking. Ellen decided she was going to have to confront Gerald about last night if she was ever going to have some peace of mind. It was a good thing too that Tim wouldn't be back till early next week, thus she had enough time on hand to settle this ... situation. Still unresolved about whatever she planned on doing next, she drained the remainder of her coffee and washed it off before leaving the kitchen and returning back to her bedroom. She pretended to fall asleep but knew even that wasn't going to happen. An hour later, the kids were banging at her door to wake up.

* * * *

She was onto her second cup of coffee for the day, seated at the kitchen table going through a Vanity Fair magazine in front of her when there came a tapping sound at the kitchen's net door facing the back of the house. She looked up and gave a wan smile at the middle-aged woman standing outside her door.

The woman, whose name was Annie Seymour, waved at her. "Hiya Ellen," she called out in a high-sounding voice.

Ellen got up from her chair and went to let her neighbour in. "Hi there, Annie. Didn't know you'd be around by this time."

"I thought I'd take a break from my tennis games," said Annie. "Besides, I've got very little or just about nothing else to do, so I figured I'd stay at home and look after him and maybe catch up the re-runs of Desperate Housewives."

That figures, thought Ellen, as she returned to her kitchen table. If there was anyone who's got a healthy addiction towards watching whatever home-drama episode of Desperate Housewives, it's Annie. Although they've been friends since Ellen and Tim moved in here—neighbours and friends—Ellen couldn't help not having herself a measure of distrust towards her. Annie was a known flirt in the neighbourhood, an incontrovertible one as such and she was very open and proud about it. She and her husband, Eric, were certified swingers and have been indulging in the lifestyle since they got married twelve years ago. Annie was approaching her mid-thirties. She stood at about the same height as that sexy Alien movie actress, Sigourney Weaver, though she wasn't as skinny as she was. Annie was blessed with a rather voluptuous figure that complimented every part of her anatomy. Her breasts were always jutting outward, wanting to pop out of her clothes, and the fact that she enjoyed wearing tight-fitting shirts seemed to make that appropriate. And she loved wearing short skirts to show off her legs. She claimed to have been taking tennis lessons at a fitness club. But Ellen figured the only lesson she was probably having was screwing the young tennis instructor, with or without her husband knowing. She was a confessed man-eater, if ever such a title did exist. Time after time, she'd made attempts at enrolling Ellen and Tim towards attending their numerous neighbourhood parties. It was no secret that such parties usually ended in debauchery, and also that Annie's number one aim was to find a means of snaring Tim to herself. Ellen knew this too well, and thus almost always drew a line whenever it came to her dealings with her.

"I just thought I'd borrow some sugar from you, if you've got any," said Annie.

"Oh, yeah, sure." Annie opened one cupboard after another before then finding a jar that contained sugar, which she then gave to her neighbour friend.

"Thanks. I'll just have four, if you don't mind." She selected the cubes from the jar and then sealed back the lid. "By the way, Eric told me that Tim has gone off to some business sort of trip."

Such a neighbourhood snooper she was, thought Ellen. This was another thing about her that she despised.

"No, it wasn't business. More had to do with the company sending him off to clear some things in Denver. Whatever for, I don't know."

"Really. I've never been to Denver, but I've got a cousin or two residing there. When do you think he will be back?"

"Next Monday or maybe a day or two after. It depends."

"Too bad. Him leaving you home alone with the kids and nothing else. You must be lonely in here with the kids."

"I can manage. Besides, he's only going to be gone for a few days, not a week or a month." She was desperately trying to return to her magazine but had no other choice than satisfying her friend's nagging presence.

"So what're you going to be doing to keep busy, besides being a mom, I mean?"

"I'll think of something," replied Ellen. "I've got some first-grade home works to go over, and then maybe if I get too bored and can't think of nothing else, I can come over looking for you to keep me company."

This was the last thing Ellen could think of doing, but it was said merely so Annie could leave her in peace with some happiness in her mind.

"You know where to find me," Annie smiled. "Well, I'd better hurry on back home. Jamie's going to be missing me. So, I'll check up on you later to see if you're getting too bored or not."

"You do that, Annie." She escorted her out the kitchen door.

"God, I wish Eric could be out of town more often," said Annie wistfully as she stepped out of her friend's kitchen. "I could have myself so much fun if he does that."

"I thought that's something you regularly do even when he's around."

Annie never hid details of her sexual escapades from any of her neighbourhood friends, and that included Ellen.

"I know. Just that the fun's double when he's not around to watch or join in. You know what I'm saying?"

Ellen joined her in laughing, though it died off when she began walking away, crossing the picket fence that divided their home.

--------

For weeks, Gerald, prior to last night's adventure, had been trying really hard to dig into Ellen's pants. He'd called her up on her cell phone time after time that she'd had no choice but save his number in her phone, though under a different name so as not to alert Tim if by chance Gerald ever attempted to call her when they were together. It was a good thing such hadn't happened. Done with perusing the magazine, she went in search of her cell phone to dial his number. Her kids were playing outside while the dial tone rang in her ear.

The line got picked up the third time and her boss's familiar voice up into her ear. "Hi there, Ellen," he said.

She decided to play it cool. "Hello, Gerald."

"I was hopping you'd call earlier, but I'm even happier you still have my number."

She was feeling the vibe of his voice. It was taking her back to last night, and she didn't want that. "I need ... I need to talk to you, Gerald. I need to talk to you about last night."

"I figured you would," his voice seemed to be grinning at her from the other end of the phone. "I just got back to my apartment right now, and won't be stepping out till later on. If you ain't too busy, you can drop over right now and let's get reacquainted."

"I'll be on my way in the next half hour," she said.

"Okay, cool. Oh, and don't forget to wear something sexy."

Ellen ended the talk; she couldn't tempt herself to find him a snappy reply. She did however find something soothing to wear.

She arrived at his apartment building thirty minutes later. Just like last night she didn't take the car with her, and she'd left her kids in her neighbour's care before leaving. Up the stairs she went till she came before his apartment's door and knocked. It came open and standing there with his huge frame blocking the interior of the sitting room. He had one arm by the door and the other by the side, grinning at her. The top button of his jeans was unbuttoned and he wasn't wearing any shirt.

"Ellen, you're looking as lovely as ever," he said.

Ellen held her handbag before her as if like a shield. "I need to talk to you, Gerald."

"So you said over on the phone." He pushed his door further open for her to step inside, which she did.

Was she expecting to find some other company in here with him? No, she wasn't. But right away she perceived the aroma of burning incense. It got her thinking that someone else was in the apartment with them. Just then there came the sound of footsteps coming from the bedroom and it turned out to be a young white girl with long flowing raven black hair that reached halfway down her backside. She was slim and her breasts were small but pointy. She stood there wearing a pair of boxer shorts and nothing else, casting an insolent look at Ellen as if angered by her appearance.

"Yo, Mabel," said Gerald, "I've got some business to take care of right now. How about dropping by later on."

Mabel stood there unmoving by the corridor's entrance, her eyes were still sizing Ellen up while she made as if she hadn't heard Gerald's voice. She turned and went back into the bedroom and when she returned afterwards, she was half dressed with a handbag draped over her shoulder. She cut Ellen a snide look before walking past her not saying a word and slamming the door behind her. Gerald turned in the lock, smiling at Ellen.

"She's lives a couple of doors from mine and comes around now and then to keep me company," he said as if in defense.

"Like I said, I came to talk to you about last night, Gerald," she said. "I wanted to let you know that I really wasn't that happy about what went on here between us."

He came towards her. "You thinking I took advantage of you?"

"Yes ... I think you did." She tried not to make eye contact with him even as he came to a stop before her. "I think you lured me with that job offer which is nonexistent, since you've wanted to take advantage of me for a long time."

"That ain't true, Ellen. The job is real, and you saw the flier and knew that wasn't faked. But as for me taking advantage of you ... would I be doing such if I did this?"

Gerald reached for her handbag and pulled it from her grasp. Ellen didn't fight him even he threw it across the couch. His hands went between her arms to her waistline and pulled her body towards him. Ellen moved first an inch, then another till her chin was against his shoulder; up close she could inhale the scent muskiness of his armpits. It was such an overpowering smell. Her hips came against his crotch.

"Dance with me," he said to her.

"No," she said.

"Come on, I promise to be gentle."

"There's no music playing," she said.

"There don't need to be," he replied.

Her arms came from under his armpits and over the back of his shoulders as together they both began to sway side to side as if they were doing a slow waltz. His hands went from her waistline down the back of her jeans where they then grasped her ass. Ellen wanted to protest, but she couldn't. Her body wasn't in her control anymore.

Oh God, what am I doing here? She said to herself.

"Gerald, we—"

"Shhh, don't say a word."

His lips kissed the side of her cheek and slid up to cup the soft part of her ear. Ellen gave a sigh that sounded like a tea kettle releasing steam.

"We shouldn't be doing this ..." she muttered, though it sounded even less than a whisper. "I shouldn't ... be doing this."

Yet she was doing it, she actually was doing it. Her hands squeezed the backside of his shoulders, urging him to keep on with what he'd started. Gerald nibbled on her ear lobe as if it were a piece of meat he wanted to munch on. While he did so, his large pair of hands went on squeezing and groping her bottom till one of them forced its fingers down the waistline to feel the seam of her panties. Ellen's eyes were half shut and she moaned over his shoulder. His lips left her ear and slid backward in search of her lips. Their lips met, parted open and made way for each other's tongue to mesh with each other. Their kiss was both hungry and desperate. Ellen's hands wrapped themselves around his neck and pulled his face down towards hers. No longer did she listen to that conscientious voice of hers, the one that kept telling her she was making a very big mistake.

[What if Tim finds out about this? Exactly how would you expect him to take it that you're here acting like a sex-craved tramp who hasn't felt a cock in years?]

Her answer to the voice: [Shut up and let me the fuck alone!]

Gerald's tongue darted in and out of her mouth, his lips taking time to lick the underside of hers before resuming the kissing frenzy. Ellen too wasn't going to be undaunted and she too gave him as fervent a kiss as she passionately could. This was unlike anything she'd ever done before with anyone.

Gerald picked her up from the floor. She wrapped her legs instinctively around his waistline and held onto him as he carried her towards the direction of the bedroom.

He dropped her hard on the bed enough to make her bounce. In one instant his hands undid the remaining buttons of his jeans and pushed it along with his underpants down his legs. Ellen meanwhile was fighting with the buttons of her blouse even as he came to her with his erection hard and strong jutting off between his legs. He came and straddled her chest, his cock sticking like a tent pole towards her face. He held a hand under Ellen's head to hold her up, though he needn't bother about her mouth finding his cock.

"Hmmmm," she moaned in the back of her throat as her lips wrapped itself around his shaft and she took a first long suck of it for the day. He kept holding her head up and pushing her face towards his cock, wanting her to feed more and more on his shaft.

"Yeah," he urged her on, "keep sucking that black dick. I know it's what you came for ... keep sucking it, pretty white bitch."

By now there was no pretence on her part as to what she was doing, or even why she was doing it. Ellen's mind simply stopped focussing on the why while her body did the answering for her. She brought both hands and wrapped them around Gerald's cock and went on stroking him even as her mouth kept sucking on the knobbed head of his dick. Gerald came over her and began pressing his cock down her face, forcing the remainder of his shaft into her throat. Ellen gagged on his cock with streams of saliva pouring off the sides of her mouth and her tears watered her eyes. Still Gerald forced his cock down on her.

A while later he came off her and helped her out of her jeans and panties; Ellen felt grateful he didn't rip it off like he did the one of last night. He pushed her to fall on her back, her legs coming up, and then brought his face to the spot where her flaming pussy was.

It was now Ellen's turn to groan as she felt the wet smack of his lips against her pussy lips. She was hardly prepared for such and the surprise was just unexpected. Ellen loved receiving head from Tim, though there was a difference here. Whereas Tim opted for gentleness whenever his face burrowed between her legs, Gerald was anything but that. His lips and tongue took turns eating her out, making as if he intended to suck out every aspect of wetness out of her cunt. Her hands grabbed his head as she felt his tongue flick against the piece of meat that was her clit and it felt like being struck with lightning. Her head fell back on the bed and her back arched upward in a spasm of ecstatic thunder.