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“Cole, this is Ella.”

Any attempt to convey to you, dear Reader, the vision standing before me would fall short of the actual marvelousness.

I paused.

In all the years of my life I have never paused for another soul but for her, for my beloved Ella, I was struck so far down that my eyes tracked up and landed slightly left of those baby blues.

My hand should have been outstretched but it was glazed over from a long devoured doughnut and in my left I held my coffee cup like a shield. All at once I felt the massive room constrict around me and Ella.

“I’m ready.” My voice broke under the falsehood.

I set my coffee down and took up the camera. It narrowed my vision and with the world beset inside such a tiny frame, I could breathe again. I existed only in the black borders now. I was the negative, subsisting only to form the splendor of our living world, safe one the fringe, straddling the lip of creator and creation.

I snapped the first still, not entirely sure what I was capturing but through that cramped passage I could see the blurred outlines of perfection. Again I snapped the shutter and was able to make out Ella’s pensive face, her baby blue eyes staring directly down the barrel of my gun, quietly considering the whoreson wielding it. I pulled my trigger in self-defense, right over those two wondering eyes, perhaps more steel than blue but once the shutter broke, there they were, perfectly even, perfectly faultfinding.

I pulled to wide.

Ella stood with her right leg bent slightly in front of her left, blocking, herself from the cretin bobbing up and down behind the camera. I knew Ella expected direction, some type of guidance on where to stand, which angle to feature and what feeling to emote but I gave her nothing. I could give her nothing. My mind was as empty as the deftly lit backdrop from which Ella burst forth.

Ella mover to the right of my frame, straightened her impressive length and smoldered at me. I snapped the shutter once, twice, thrice; keep those eyes on me, I might have said had I been brave enough to say anything. Ella switched to profile as I lowered my angle and shot straight up her alabaster legs. My vacant mind fixated on the shadowy underneath of her skirt, the way the darkness danced with the movement of her hips. I strained to see her panties but the dim withheld her modesty and I grew denser in my illicit pursuit.

In my mind I was already fucking her.

I snatched her wrist hard enough to feel her delicate skin twist between my fingers. Ella’s baby blues widened as they darted back and forth, unsure of what was taking place. I jerked Ella toward me, her body tense as it crashed into mine but I knew her little vulval vestibule was moistening. I could smell the chemical maturation mixing in with the strawberry scent of her honey blond hair. I grit my teeth and breathed her musk. I must have squeezed her wrist as well, Ella winced and I bore out my clenched teeth in a callous grin. Hurting her excited me.

I took Ella’s wrist and brushed her hand over my crotch. “If I let you go,” I said, “you better be good to me.” I released Ella and for a long moment nothing happened. Ella’s watering eyes stayed locked on mine, trembling, inches apart from mine, sending a chill through me.

Ella moved her hand over my cotton shorts and swirled her fingers around the outline of my cock. Her touch forced the air out of me and as I sought to find my composure, I took in the dampened air rising from her center.

I strained my neck to kiss her stylish red lips then sunk my tongue into her warm mouth. I watched her soft baby blue eyes fade and close under the heat of our scorching mouths. I hung her there, aloft in an indeterminate space somewhere between inhibition and acceptance, swaying back and forth, from one end to the other and back again.

I unzipped my shorts and pulled my full and aching cock out. It hung long and strong and so crazed by now that it pulsed from wanting. Ella wrapped her cold hand around my dick, her icy fingers tickled as she pulled back my foreskin and I felt I would cum right then. Ella stroked my beating cock back and forth, casting an attentive eye toward my fattened dick, mindful of its perilous condition.

“Eat it,” I said. “All of it. I want to watch you gag.”

Ella fell away, down onto her knees and kissed the crown of my mania with delicious, cosmetically enhanced lips. Each glossy peck sent a jolt down my balls and I feared I would cum on her picture-perfect cupid bow.

What an unimaginable sight. Ella, this little nineteen year old Instagram model, poised so delicately, back arched, neck long, lips wet, wild and wanton eyes before my vibrating cock.

Ella took me in her cozy little mouth. Slowly, I dropped deeper down her throat. Ella gagged. Squishing my cock between her slick tongue and the textured roof of her mouth. Ella coughed. Her mouth hotter and wetter than before, driving my rigid desire, my single minded, all encompassing necessity, charring the few tender parts of my heart, provoking me to take a fistful of honey blond hair and bob her teeny head up and down my ardent prick.

“You’ve never had a cock like this in that dirty little mouth of yours, have you?” I asked knowing the answer.

Ella wriggled her mouth free and left my beast suspended by lust and hot tendrils pouring from her mouth. Ella looked up at me, her bloodshot eyes searching mine for a tenderness that no longer existed. I was too bloated, too pained to feel anything other than the pitiless beating of my cock.

I pulled Ella up by a forearm and spun her around. Ella’s waist high pleated skirt bloomed open and for the first time I witnessed Ella’s tumescent almond shaped snatch gleaming between her legs. I drew Ella back into me. My rigid brute straining to lick the soppy lips burning beyond its rabid desperation.

I gripped my anguished prick in hand and ran it back and forth the slick hereafter, across her swollen click and through her creamy labium minus and frenulum and around Ella’s smoldering opening. Now we hung together, both curved into one another, our sum and substance tapering down to a single possibility.

I drove my cock deep into Ella and for the first time felt something akin to fulfillment there, soaked inside of her, held by the sultry grip of her pussy. I could feel her wanting me, urging me to continue into her, deeper still, into some seldom reached place. I drew back and plunged my hips forward, nuzzling them against her little round butt. Again came the gratification and so I repeated the motion over and over again.

Fucking Ella was remarkable. Taking this high gloss, artfully drawn and expertly curated Instagram model and folding her beneath me, plunging into her again and again and again with my tyrannical cock was a high I’ve never felt before. I’d never fucked anyone as hot as Ella. Not even close but now I had her bent awkwardly under me, wet and panting for my sex.

“I’m gonna fuck you good,” I said, “so fucking good.” I smacked her ass and a little yelp sprung from the other end.

I wrapped Ella’s cotton blouse around my hand, tearing a costly seam and continued to slam my cock into her. Ella’s feeble little hand pushed against my thigh, trying to to hold me off but her gushing pussy loved my ferocity. Her sweet little slit gripped onto me the stronger I went, spitting out more cream as I filled her to the hilt but I was failing now. My soul was melting, pooling down from my heavy ball sack into a dense knob at the seat of my asshole. Then, all at once, I erupted. My cock tightened and I shot my thick load into Ella’s snatch. I held on to her as the next shot came pouring out of me, sending tremors of pleasure throughout my body. I kept thrusting inside of her, held tight by her bulging lips. We were mixed into a gooey, molten liquid running down the shaft of my cock.

“That’s marvelous Cole. You got it.”