Bad Bella

Of course, I swiped right on her. But it was pointless. Everyone will have done the same.

Ok, she wasn’t model looks. She didn’t have the perfect body. Although it was the kind I loved. She wasn’t fake tits, fake hips, hyper-sexualised Barbie Doll. But she looked like the devil’s bride, I’d like to say, ‘in a good way,’ but I’m not sure, knowing what I know now, that my first impressions weren’t spot on.

Or, to put it another way, she looked like a whole long night of fun.

Twenty-four. Dark hair with streaks of pink, purple, blue, yellow, neon green. Nose pierced, dark eyes, full lips but no duck pout. It was the eyes. though, they were the thing.

When a man tells you he’s an ass man or a tits man or he loves looking a pussy well ha! I just don’t get it. I don’t believe him.

Vaginas are ugly. Tits and bums are great, but that headless thing, forget it. Pictures of women showing just their curves but no face. Freaks me out. But a face, with ‘come to bed’ eyes, that’s all you need in life. It’s all you’ll ever need when you’re fucking that pussy, holding on to that tight round arse, sucking on those big tits, but looking into the eyes of horny wench that can’t get enough of you.

So, yes, I’m also a fan of the missionary position, for eyes like hers anyway. This makes me sound all very vanilla. I guess I am. Well, I was. Now, now, now I’m barely human, these last few months have been so wild. I’m lucky to be here. It’s been one hell of a ride. Or should I say, she’s been one hell of a ride.

But to go back to the start; she swiped right on me too and she sent me a message.

“Hey bud! You’re handsome. But to be upfront, that’s not why I chose you. In fact, I had kinda hoped for a spotty uni student to corrupt or some naughty family man to home wreck. Even an old guy to fuck happily into the grave.

Mind you; my real fantasy was to hook up with some old teacher from school days and be a brat for him and see what a total perv he was, and… oh no, done that already! Tick!

So, ok, you’re 27, unattached, and not a dirty slob. You could even be my type. But types are for fussy cunts, and I’m not fussy. I eat all my dinner, even the greens. How else can you guarantee dessert?

Ha! Ha! Sorry, I’m really full of nonsense. But the point is this is your lucky day. You were the thousandth guy to swipe me off my feet and the first I swiped back.

So ding dong! You are my mission. If you wish to accept, see me in Miller’s Bar in like half an hour.

No questions! Bring a whiteboard marker. No, go wild, bring two. Hold on, doing the math, I think three will be more fun.

Don’t be late, or I’ll fuck the owner. She’s fucking hot and could win the licking Olympics, so I’ll not be bothered if you don’t show up, my guinea pig for my evil experiment!”

Bella. Bella… the name alone was enough. The eyes had already clinched it. But the new picture with the tight top over pert large breasts with no bra and pierced nipples, well,l that was a killer. I was so hard for her.

I scrabbled to get my shit together. I’d do anything for a chance to cum in her, looking into those eyes.

It took me five minutes to get kind of ready. Another five to find the markers for some drawing game (I was kind of right on that, kinkly right I should say). And Millers was fucking miles away.

I ran and started waving any car I could, I didn’t care if it was a taxi. She had picked me at random. She’d have had whatever loser was 1000th, like a lucky millionth customer at a store having their food paid for, for the year.

I almost expected to see press out in force to report on my lucky win of great, easy sex with the dirtiest bitch in Christendom. Not that I exactly know that that was true then, but she’d dropped a few hints!

The bar her almost empty. I was on time, though.

“You give her my number,” the taxi guy had said, “You know, she wants this,” and he gripped himself. I’d described the whole deal and he’d stared at her pictures longer than felt safe, coming to this conclusion. “She’s a slut! She is the kind of woman you wank over for life, see when fucking the wife, haunts you on your death bed. You be careful. Now give her my number.”

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He actually wrote it down but didn’t waive my fee.

I meant to dump the paper it was o,n but I kept gripping it in my excitement.

She wasn’t her,e and my heart sank. It was a set-up, a con, a funny joke. Of course. I was an experiment! But not an exciting one. ‘Would the horny guy turn up for a fake profile?’ Yes!

I went to the bar. The woman behind it was beautiful but tall and with short hair. Using all my stereotypes, I could picture her eating pussy. I got hard imagining her between the legs of my ex-girlfriend, making her cum hard and scream like I never seemed to do.

She was leaning right over against the bar, staring into space.

“Hi!” No reaction. I waved my hand in front of her face and repeated, “Hi?”

“Oh, god, yeah, ha, hold on a minute,” she seemed very distracted, but at least she was talking. “Bella! Oh fuck Bella. Your guys here. But don’t you dare fucking move.”

I was so confused now; I didn’t think I should ask for a drink. I hovered, and the bar woman rocked. And groaned. And moaned. And finally, I got it. Bella was under the bar, her head in this woman’s pussy…

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. The few people in the pub didn’t seem to notice this strange behaviour and sex sounds. She pulled me so close I thought she was going to kiss me. Instead, she breathed into my ear,” I’m going to cum. I’m going to…mmm…so fucking hard. I may break your hand. You’re a very lucky man, very lucky. But I don’t envy you. Oh god!!”

And with that, she pulled me in, so her head was on my shoulder. She was dribbling,g so I soon felt my shirt turn damp. Her mouth opened wide on my neck, and she both screamed and bit down hard as her orgasm hit.

I was in pain from this stranger’s teeth breaking my skin, but also I had a rock-hard cock in my pants from the crazy situation.

I had to hold her up as the waves of pleasure rushed through her, and she wobbled. I accidentally took hold of a breast in my effort to keep her from falling. I tried to move my hand away, but she flattened herself to the bar and trapped my hand under her. It was one hell of a juicy tit. I gave it as much of a squeeze as space would allow. I thought it would be ok now.

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I don’t know if it helped or not, but she was on a comedown now anyway. She was panting, and her face was flat on its side to the bar. That’s when I first saw Bella.

Bella was everything and more. She popped up from where she’d been crouching for at least ten minutes and gave the impression of a naughty, meddling imp. An imp who’s been swimming.

Her face was sticky, her glorious streak coloured her damp and plastered to her face. She beamed a huge smile at me and licked a pierced tongue around her own face.

“Agh, God, that was good. Got bored waiting,” she said, as perky as a pineapple. I wasn’t late, as I thought.

“Poor dear Paula here had had a bad morning; she broke a glass.” Terrible, I thought normally that would have been imagined in a sarcastic way, but I was already somehow in love. Or lust. Or psychotically obsessed with her. I’d agree to anything she said. And that, I came to realise, was her secret weapon.

“So, anyways, let’s get out of here. I want somewhere busier. Oh shit, no, I bet you’re as hard as fuck right now, aren’t you?”

I didn’t have time to answer before she leaped over the bar like a gazelle. A very sexy crazed gazelle with tight jeans and a crop top that emphasized her large breasts, a face glazed in pussy juice, and standing no more than 5 feet high at most.

On landing, she grabbed my dick through my jeans and smelt and sniffed around my body, neck, and face. “Mmm, yeah, you’re ready to cum.”

“Paula! Mouth!” The bar woman had been lying half on the bar, looking comatose. She mumbled a response, turned her head slightly, and opened her mouth wide.

By now, I need to say, an old gentleman was waiting to be served on the other leg of the bar and could see everything that was going on. That’s another attribute of Bella’s no fear of what people thought of her. She was always out there.

Talking of out there, in a quick, fluid, expert movement, she unzipped me and reached in to take out my cook. She rubbed it quickly, stroking me like she knew what to do, exactly. Exactly where I’d feel it best. She was an expert whore. That’s all I can say, the best.

I was already so turned on that she made me cum in seconds. And yes, you guessed it, she aimed me right for her friend’s mouth. Boom. Boom, Boom. Stream after stream. The first blast landed in her short hair, but with an adjustment, the next landed on the sweet spot, shooting right to the back of her throat.

Paula gagged and, for a moment, closed her mouth, but she opened it again immediately, and my pent-up blue balls spent over and over into her large, wide, fabulous hole of a mouth.

“Can I get served here!” the old man tapped his watch. The nasty, kinky sex didn’t faze him, but not having a pint to sup did.

“Just a moment, bud,” Bella said, “A couple more strokes and he’s done.” And the rest came out, pumping with less power so as not to reach her mouth and leaving a white spot on the polished wooden bar.

Bella squeezed my cock hard at the end, taking drips from it and making an already amazing orgasm perfect. It felt like it had gone on forever. I felt sick with nausea at how good it made me feel.

To really get the last shreds of good feeling out of my cock she pushed the flat of her hand down onto it, trapping it onto the bar. Fuck did that feel good! In all my years of wanking I’d never thought of that. I even fucked my cock between the tight Vice for a little time. I was feeling like I wanted to cum again already.

“So, playboy,” she said, “shall we go somewhere a little busier?” I’d have done anything she said, and as you’ll find out, I did. Start writing here…