Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I’m so glad I opted for latex rather than velvet. The black gloss goes perfectly with the decor of Vinnie Hampton’s epic manor, and perfectly with the rocker himself, his cock zipped up tight in his black leather.
I can’t wait to get a proper view of it.
Fuck me, the guy is a legend in the flesh. I can’t stop staring at him, trying to burn every single inch of his body into my memory.
I wave goodbye to Holly the whore – the entertainer zoning in on every client’s needs and out to serve. I’m Ella tonight, living out my fangirl fantasies as I hitch myself onto the bar top in Vinnie’s mini tavern.
The bar top is the perfect height for me to wrap my legs around him without him needing to hold me in position. I pull him close with my linked stilettos and plant my lips on his, buzzing at the taste of De Chante between us as I run my fingers up and down his spine.
Someone needs to pinch me a thousand times, because this is crazy surreal. Crazy.
My bare tits are pressed to Vinnie’s chest, flesh to flesh. His hands tangle in my hair as he kisses me, raising the tension, and I’m breathing hard as he nips my bottom lip when he pulls away.
“Look at these beauties,” he says as he admires the bountiful rack I’ve been blessed with.
“They taste as good as they look,” I tell him, cupping my tits in my hands. “Especially spritzed up with a nice topping of De Chante. Wanna try them?”
Vinnie’s eyes are hooded and mischievous. “Umm… not sure about that,” he says.
“No?” Is he kidding me?
“Thing is,” he says, “me and the guys, we always have a food taster that goes first. You know, in case someone’s trying to poison us.”
I’m speechless, not knowing if he’s kidding or not.
He nods at my tits. “You go first.”
Ahh, now I get it. “My pleasure.” I squash my tits together and push them up, dip my head and lick across my nipples.
“Suck them,” my rock god says and I duly oblige, squashing one tit and sucking my nipple into my mouth, biting and tugging and moaning when I switch to the other tit.
“Fucking A,” he says, palming the bulge in his tight pants. “Bite them, babe.”
I make a show of it, biting down, leaving marks on my flesh, my nipples so big and hard it feels so good.
“Well, you haven’t dropped down dead,” he says. “I guess it’s safe.”
I push my tits together and stick my chest out. “Bite me.”
He takes the champagne from the bucket and I gasp when he tips ice-cold fizz over my tits, but he’s right there to counter it.
His warm mouth and puffy lips are fantasies brought to life.
I watch in fangirl shock as Vinnie Hampton laps the bubbly champagne from my nipples, one by one.
My eyes are fixated by his tongue as he works it across my skin, moaning at the taste.
I’m moaning too, still in disbelief as he feasts on my tits.
He pauses for breath, takes hold of both nipples and stretches them, and the filthy look on his face is to die for.
“Your tits are made for this,” he says, grabs one tit in both hands, squashes it hard and clamps his mouth on it.
What a fucking delight as he sucks it into his mouth. Sucks so hard his cheeks are bulging and my tit is throbbing. My hands are soon in his hair, pulling his head into me, forcing more of my tit into his mouth.
He lets go, takes a deep breath and squashes my other tit, sucking it into his mouth until again his cheeks are bulging and I’m in fucking heaven.
“Fucking A,” I parrot his words, my clit sparking like never before as he bites and sucks, bites and sucks.
It spurs me on.
I empty the whole bottle of De Chante from up high, splashing it down my front so the fizz froths on his rocker hair as he gobbles at my flesh.
I hitch myself back and beg for more of his mouth.
More of his tongue. More, more, more, fucking more.
My body is thrumming, my head is spinning, and I’m panting hard.
Heady with lust when he catches my nipple between his teeth and tugs.
My skin is still fizzing from champagne when he grabs a handful of ice cubes from the bucket and rubs them over my tits.
Fuck, it has my flesh covered in goosebumps, my nipples puckered so bad, when he traces the cold path with the warmth of his tongue, I grab a whole handful of ice myself, adding to the sensation as it melts and drips over the latex of my dress.
I’m slippery as a fish when I lie back on the bar top and pull him down onto me.
His hair drips onto my face, and my legs coax him forward, offering myself to him.
“More ice, please,” I say. “Give me shivers. Deep shivers.”
“Like your pussy chilled, do you?”
“I love ice play, yeah.”
“Ever been filled with champagne?”
I nod, giving him the truth. “I’ve been fucked with plenty of champagne bottles. Ass and pussy. I’ve dribbled fizz straight from my dirty asshole into people’s mouths, and they’ve loved me for it.”
“And how about you? Did you love it?”
My eyes are on his as I hitch my legs higher, no secrets here. He peels the latex up my thighs to reveal my stocking tops and the black lace of my thong.
“I always love it,” I tell him. “My naughty list isn’t just about money for me. It’s real. It’s about fun. It’s about filth. It’s about me.”
He runs a hand up my stockinged thigh and my pussy aches for his touch. “Then why be ashamed of it? Why hide away like a felon because some online trolls call you a whore? Fuck them, and be you, Ella Edwards.”
His words hit deep. They give me the Rage of the Roar, and the words I love in that song make more sense now. I should have listened to them when I needed them most.
You gotta roar in the silence, baby. You got to let the world know it’s your own!
I’m going to roar in Vinnie’s silence tonight. I’m going to make his world my own, and I’m going to love every fucking minute of it.
“Make me a kinky fuck-doll,” I say. “That’s how I like it. Go on, Vinnie. Make me play dirty.”
“Yeah? A bit of ice, baby? That what you’re looking for?”
The band did such a screeching cover of that song that it makes me laugh.
“I’ll take as much ice as you can give me, baby.”
Vinnie pulls my thong to the side, revealing my slick, shaved pussy. The wetness there speaks for itself. The way I clench at his gaze, panting like a wanton slut is as authentic as can be.
“Never hide yourself, Ella,” he says as he glides the first ice cube up my slit.
“Your own self is the most precious thing you have. Fuck the haters, fuck the trolls, fuck the people who want to tear you down. They will always be there, waiting to pounce, so roar louder. Stand stronger. Walk your own beautiful road.”
“Thanks, coach.” My breaths are hitching, pussy desperate. “Now give me that fucking ice, please, and fuck me hard.”
He holds the chunk to my clit for a few seconds before he pushes the block inside me.
My fingers find my clit as he takes another ice cube in his mouth, sucking for a moment before pushing it on in.
I’m chilled from the inside out, one ice cube at a time, and it’s so cold it turns to a burn.
That burn is divine as it melts, and I hitch myself higher, balancing my stilettos on the bar top.
I show Vinnie Hampton my winking asshole and grab a handful of fresh ice from the bucket, holding them out to him.
“The party’s only just getting started,” I tell him. “Fill me up, rockstar.”
“That’s what I like to hear, fuck-doll. Real music to my ears.”
He doesn’t warm the ice cubes before he pushes them into my ass, one by one.
Both my holes are a dripping mess of melting water when he lowers his face and runs his tongue across my slit.
His eyes are open and locked on mine as he catches the dripping water in his mouth, teasing.
My fingers rub my clit, but it’s not enough.
I’m so relieved when he takes over my efforts with his mouth that I moan, bucking up at him like the whore I am. A proud whore.
“Yes, please… Just like that. Oh fuck, yeah, just like that. And fill me up some more. Feel how cold my cunt is.”
His fingers spread my dripping pussy lips, and he splits his efforts two by two. Two in the pussy, two in the ass, fingering the ice in there like a pair of scissors with his long, thick fingers.
Fingers usually gripping the mike onstage. Fingers waving to the masses. Fingers strumming his guitar when he’s playing lead.
He slurps at me as I melt inside, sucking on my clit enough to drive me crazy, and there are no barriers for me. I don’t care how filthy I am, or how sordid I look when he laps up dirty water from my asshole.
“Oh fuck, Vinnie,” I say and he knows it’s time to pick up the pace.
With two fingers in my ass and two in my cunt, he sucks my clit into his mouth and finger-fucks me so fast my head spins.
Then he stops, pulls away.
“No! Don’t stop!”
His grin is wicked, his face a wet mess.
“Come for me, Ella,” he says and his tongue is back at my clit in an instant, lapping and nudging and sucking and…
“Yes! Yes! Yes…”
I come against his face like a needy slut, bucking and grinding. There is nothing fake about my roar as I hold his head to my pussy and rub myself against his thick wet lips. No illusion as I lie in the throes of the aftermath, wanting to share the taste with him.
I guide him up from my cunt with a smile, and open my own mouth wide, poking my tongue out in invitation as I raise myself for his fingers.
He finger-fucks my mouth as I suck on him, locking him in a grateful stare before he lowers his face to mine. I kiss the filth from his tongue, sucking him clean, then hold him in another vice of stilettos, too enamoured to let go. All I want to do is kiss him, taste him, marvel at him.
“I need your cock next,” I tell him. “Please. Give it to me. I want it in my throat. Give me all you’ve got.”
My rock god shakes his head with a smirk.
“Nah, fuck-doll. You’ll get my dick when I give it to you, not before.”
“Spoilsport,” I laugh. “I’ll make you glad you did. Pinkie promise.”