Mike Hammer - Chinatown Ch. 06

After spending most of the day on the couch thinking about the situation, Mike felt the need to make a trip to the sporting goods store. It took him longer than he figured, loading his bag with 45 slugs, 38's, and a half dozen boxes of 12 gauge buckshot. The sky was dark when he finally arrived back at his apartment, pulling the car up to the curb on the street out front.

Mike lugged the weighty amo bag in through the front door, dropping it heavily on the entryway table. The room was dark with the coming of night outside, no one had yet turned up the interior lights.

Shedding his jacket, Mike walked to the bedroom door, pushing it open and entering the dim room. He never saw the shadow that waited for him just inside. The shadow that, taking his arm, propelled him forward face first onto the bed. The shadow that leaped immediately after Mike, landing on top, holding him down.

A face moved down close to Mike's ear, soft hair ticking his cheek.

"Hello Mike," came Ivy's hoarse whisper, her hand holding his head down. Before he could reply, a gag was pulled roughly over his mouth.

"Don"t talk." Ivy whispered again.

He struggled tentatively, attempting to judge how difficult it would be to unseat the small Chinese woman. He ended up on his side and Mike felt her take his hands and bind them tightly together. She moved down to tie his feet together likewise. It was all done very professionally and before Mike realised the seriousness of her intent. Mike wondered just why Ivy was so proficient at restraining men. He felt the beginnings of uneasiness about his predicament. He had never completely trusted Ivy and now, bound and helpless, his imagination ran rampant. Was the Chinese girl some kind of agent sent to kill him? Or was she playing some crazy game, running some scenario like the Camay girl thing?

Meanwhile, having restrained him sufficiently, the shadow that was Ivy was fumbling with his belt. Loosening the buckle, she pulled the leather out through the hoops. Holding it high, she pulled down his suit pants and boxers with her free hand. Leaving him helpless and exposed on the bed she stepped away to turn on the bedroom lights. Mike was shocked to see Ivy standing by the wall, her hand on the switch, wearing a black leather form fitting outfit and spiked heels. Holes had been cut out around her nipples and pubic mound. She still held his belt in one upraised hand. The demure housewife of yesterday had inexplicably been replaced by a dangerously erotic female. Ivy stood there a moment, letting him take her in, then a smirk twisted her lips and she strode towards the bed.

Looking down, Mike tested the binding on his hands and found them strong enough to hold. He was at her mercy. He felt her hands on him, sliding up his bare legs, turning him over onto his belly, his ass vulnerable and exposed. He strained around trying to look back at Ivy, distracted by her peeping nipples. They were hard like raspberries and darkly engorged. Clearly she was excited. Her nipples had not been like this when playing the Camay girl. They had been soft and flat. Unexcited. Somehow that seemed like an important fact to Mike.

Having arranged him on the bed to her liking, Ivy stood back taking a dominant stance behind him, the belt held in front. Her hips were cocked and forward, her hairy patch of pussy hair prominent and damp. Pink lips peeped through.

Ivy looked down at Mike, helpless and exposed before her. She could do anything with him that she liked. He was her toy.

Slowly Ivy raised the thick leather belt. She held it a moment, then brought it down hard against Mike's ass.

"Thwack."

The shock of sudden pain startled Mike and caused his body to convulse. A grunt was all he could produce through the gag.

"Whack."

Another blow and despite the pain and humiliation, Mike felt his cock harden beneath him.

Ivy continued ruthlessly laying the belt across his ass cheeks and every blow seemed to make him harder. The hits were coming slow and administered with full strength. He could feel his butt becoming blistered with the abuse he was taking and his swelling manhood was trapped uncomfortably beneath him. Mike squirmed, trying fruitlessly to escape, until he managed to flop over onto his back, freeing his cock which slapped up loudly against his belly. The blows stopped.

Ivy looked down at Mike's rampant and straining manhood. She held the belt, as if considering continuing her rain of blows down on it, but to Mike's great relief, she did not. Instead she leaned forward resting one knee on the bed and took his pole roughly in her hand. She squeezed hard, eliciting another moan from the gagged Mike. She began batting his cock back and forth from hand to hand, causing him to grow, if anything, even harder. Mike could already feel the increasing need to cum, not just a desire but a primitive force that overwhelmed him, taking over his mind.

But Ivy's smacking about of his cock, although intense, would never be enough to bring him to satisfaction. It was just a painful tease. In his mind he saw himself pushing her over the desk and driving his engorged cock deep into her heat and wetness, making her scream with the size and hardness of it. But he was helpless, gagged and tied on the bed while she had her way with him.

Leaning over Mike, Ivy's breasts dangled just inches from Mike's face. Mike found his eyes held by her engorged nipples. He could almost taste that forbidden fruit in his mouth, still an object of illicit desire from the days long ago when Ivy was a girl working in a casino, her father diligently watching out for her: and the dangerous and hurried escapes to intimacy with her.

She noticed his attention and sneered down at him nastily, moving one arm to cover her breasts.

"None of that for you."

Ivy stood up again, again taking that dominant pose beside the bed, hips cocked and thrust forward. Still covering her protruding breasts with one arm, she let her other hand drift down to her hairy bush. One finger stroked lightly against her pussy lips barely visible beneath the luxurious black growth. Mike lay on his back, his head turned, watching intently while the leather clad Chinese woman looked down on him lustfully, idly playing with herself. Mike tore his eyes from what her hand was doing and looked up into her slanty eyes. There was something different there. Something he had never seen before, something reckless and uninhibited and out of control. Her craziness was in full ride.

Then she was moving, climbing on top of him. She sat astride him roughly, one leg on either side of his hips. One hand grasped his cock firmly and she wiggled herself up till he was where she wanted him. Mike could feel the rasp of her cunt hair against him and his leg was wet where she had rubbed her sex against him while climbing aboard. Her tits dangled in his face, jiggling with her every movement: and she began to move on him, rubbing herself wetly against his hardness.

"You like that, bitch!" Ivy rasped, thrusting against him. She reached down and pulled the gag off, her eyes shining with crazy.

Tearing my eyes from hers, I looked down. Her legs were on either side of me and her pussy spread around my cock, enclosing it like a hot-dog. She was gushingly wet and riding me. Her tits were flopping, quivering with every vicious thrust she made against me.

"I'm gonna cum in you, whore!" She yelled emphatically, half in Chinese and half in English, increasing her pace, driving back and forth on top of me, my cock held tight between her sodden cuntal lips. She began making bestial grunting noises, grunting wih every thrust, her eyes... somewhere very far away.

That"s when she started slapping me. Just once in a while, while still pumping away. As if she had tried it and found she liked it, she began slapping my face every time her hips thrust against me. Ivy slapped like a girl, but she slapped hard and I could feel my face starting to burn. All I could feel was the slapping and my cock sliding against her wetness and heat.

"Ivy I..."

"Shut up, Cunt." She screamed recklessly, out of control.

Her riding on top was getting rougher and she leaned forward, almost falling on my chest but she kept up the insatiable rhythm... hips clutching me tighter and tighter, hard against her, until I felt her body spasm and her movements lost all control. With a scream that was far too loud for this apartment building she collapsed, exhausted, on top of me.

Not for long.

Ivy slowly raised herself up to her previous sitting position on top of me and grinned ominously down at me, twisting her lips.

"Your not done yet, bitch. Now you clean me up."

She pushed forward on the bed, bringing her pussy to my mouth. She was dripping with girl juice.

" Thats it," she said, her eyes avid on me, still filled with crazy, "you drink my cum now."

Before I could even open my lips she pushed her sex up to me. Her pussy leaked girl juice on my face, in my mouth. I swallowed convulsively to keep from choking.

The doorbell rang. I jerked under her, startled, but she showed no sign of moving off of me, or even noticing. She just sat on me looking down on me, with that crazy gleam still in her eyes. I heard the front door open and close.

She smirked down at me.

"You a good bitch," she said with satisfaction. Then reaching around behind her back she grasped my painfully erect penis.

Through the open bedroom door I saw Pat let himself in and wander through the living room, obviously looking for us. He strode past the couch and across the living room floor heading toward the bedroom. Oddly, although I could hear and see him, Ivy took no notice, seemed oblivious of his presence. She must have heard him, but nothing she did indicated any acknowledgement of his arrival.

Pat crossed the living room and stepped into the bedroom, stopping just inside the door, apparently taking in the situation. Ivy was facing away from him and sitting on top of me, leaning forward so her breasts were hanging over me and her thighs on either side of my head. From my position on the bed, blocked by Ivy's body, I could just make out that he came to stand at the foot of the bed. Ivy continued to ignore his presence. I heard him pull up a chair and the creak of wood as he sat down.

"I want you make me cum again," she said, her Chinese accent rough.

She leaned forward, raising her ass and moving forward so her pussy was hovering over my face, Pat had obviously seated himself to enjoy the view in comfort and Ivy's new position on top of my face allowed him a splendid view, her luscious raised ass and her sex exposed to his eyes. He had a perfect view of the way she was riding my face, forcing me to pleasure her cunt while I was helpless and tied beneath her.

Although Ivy gave no indication that she knew someone else was in the bedroom, I knew she had to be aware of it. I believe it must have excited her to know Pat was watching her. It also revealed that she was comfortable with being naked around Pat, a little detail that opened up a whole new can of worms: that could only happen if she had been intimate with Pat at some point, but when? Recently? Jealousy coursed through my veins like sudden venom making my blood boil and my cock jump in her hand.

She grinned and stroked me while moving about, teasing my mouth with her protruding cuntal lips.

As she wiggled about, I kept getting glimpses of Pat through the damp hair between her legs. It was really embarrassing to know Pat was watching us, seeing how she treated me.

I was worried also that he could be overcome by the sight of Ivy's nakedness and wanton availability and stand up to slide into her ready and waiting hole. I knew she would not have stopped him. She was practically offering it to him. He would have been inside her before she knew what happened, her Chinese pussy stuffed with his erect and virile white cock. It worried me, not just because he would be fucking my girl, but because in my position my face would be inches away ftom his dick, forced to watch him enter her, his cock pushing easily past her wet and engorged labia lips, his shaft driving into her until his hairy balls were bumping against my chin. I was afraid he would do it and more afraid that she would like it, that she, in fact, wanted him to do it. At that moment, Ivy was a stranger to me.

Her cunt hovered over my face, dipping down to touch against my mouth, teasing herself on me. Her eyes were hot on me, watching me, drinking in every expression that crossed my face. Her hand was still on my cock, giving it an occasional stroke and she was laughing when it would twitch. I struggled under her: just wanted to get free and sink my throbbing cock up inside her wet hole, drive myself into her over and over until I filled her belly with my sperm. I wanted to take her, but instead she was taking me and putting on a show for another lover. Was it about me or about him? Not knowing was eating at me and my helpless position under her was frustrating me.

I did what I could. Forgetting about Pat for the moment I pushed my tongue up inside Ivy's cunt hole, going as deep as I could. She moaned and pulled away, teasing me or herself... or him. I didn't know. I wanted to drive my tongue inside her again but she hovered above my face, teasing me with it. I was getting so I almost wished Pat would step up and take her for me, drive his cock up inside her. But there was no movement from him, no sound.

Slowly Ivy lowered herself onto my tongue, letting it slip inside her quivering twat. She lifted lifted off, then settled back down, gradually establishing a rhythm, fucking my face. My tongue was going deep inside her, exploring her wetness. I knew that from his position, Pat could see everything in perfect detail, my tongue slipping into Ivy, her luscious ass thrusting in front of his eagerly watching eyes. Did it make him jealous too? Did he wish it was him that Ivy was face fucking? Or was he content to watch the show she was putting on, And was it about him... or me?

Her hand was still on my cock behind her and now and then she would remember to give it a stroke... keeping me on the edge of cumming but never giving me enough to take me over the top. She watched eagerly as I tongue fucked her dripping hole, her eyes hot with lust. She began vibrating when my tongue would slip inside her and moaned when I would pull out. The girl juices were running down the inside of her thighs. Her hands moved to my head, holding me in position, not letting me stop. She was working for her orgasm now. Eyes starting to glaze and her tiny Asian clit swollen against my lips. I stopped tongue fucking her to take that clitty in my mouth and suck on it, suck it like a tiny girl-cock. She went rigid on top of me, rearing back violently and pushing her clit hard at me. Her breasts were dripping sweat, her nipples hard and pointy. She leaned back so far that I knew she was looking at Pat. And she did cum, jerking with her engorged nubbin still in my mouth... all the while looking in Pat's eyes.
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Mike Hammer - Chinatown Ch. 06

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