LONG TIME, NO CUM
By Kandor



	Helena sat in the bar, across the spacious room, her legs crossed and the 
top one dangling over the bottom. She wore revealing sandals, her long, 
supermodel toes painted a sky blue, matching her crystalline eyes and light sun 
dress that showed off her lengthy, creamy legs. All eyes in the bar were on her, 
but only one pair mattered.
	Stenson was a killer, a terrorist, a man whose reign of horror was known 
the world over. He'd just gotten out of jail after serving too few years for a 
bus explosion that robbed a war-torn country of whatever peace it was trying to 
regain after centuries of inner torment and factional fighting. Stenson was a 
hired gun, he didn't care who he killed, man, woman, child or a gruesome 
combination of the three that often resulted in carnage so grotesque, bodies 
couldn't even be identified.
	Now he was out, a stone cold killer with dark, beady eyes and a non-
smiling countenance. He sat at the bar at an angle, watching the beautiful 
Helena out of the sides of slitted eyes. The top calf creased as Helena slowly 
bounced her sexy foot, the muscle flexing under creamy white skin. She wiggled 
her toes and the silken flesh of her shin danced with a river of tendon movement 
beneath.
	He was a foot man, Helena knew it, that's what the dossier said on him. 
She also knew he hadn't had sex with anyone, another man or himself, in the five 
years he was in prison, and damn few times before. Sex wasn't his thing, killing 
for money was, and he viewed sexual dalliances as an unnecessary diversion. But 
he had a thing for feet when he did have sex, and Helena knew it.
	This was too easy and fun for her. This man hadn't seen a woman in years. 
What she would do to him would make him wish he never had again.
	It didn't take long for her to get up and leave, with him in surreptitious 
pursuit. She made it to her hotel and he was on her quickly, his big paw 
covering her face and pushing her inside the suite. He tore off his jacket as he 
pushed her to the floor. The gun he held on her was frightening, but she was not 
scared.
	"You love these, don't you?" she said, pulling herself up to sit on the 
couch, showing her feet to him. "You love my feet, my toes, my insteps, my 
soles. You couldn't take your eyes off them in the bar, could you?"
	Stenson sweat. Helena smiled. He licked his lips and the gun shook a bit 
in his hand. She was reeling him in.
	"Come to me, big boy, come to Helena's sexy feet," she cooed, kicking off 
her sandals and sitting back, putting her feet up on the couch, legs spread to 
expose her cotton panties. "Let me take that cock in my feet and make you cum 
your sweet juice all over them!!"
	Stenson holstered his gun and stumbled forward, pulling down his pants. 
His enormous cock bobbed free, but more importantly, so did a pair of balls that 
held at least five years worth of jism inside. Helena whistled.
	"Wow, you're gonna soak my feet in your cum, aren't you?" she laughed, 
lifting her feet to encircle his hanging meat. "Go for it!!"
	It hardly took 30 seconds of a scissored foot embrace, the silky soles of 
her feet stroking him hard and fast as she sat on the couch, he before her, her 
knees out to the side. Stenson groaned loudly and gave up five years worth of 
ballsauce, a huge torrent of thick, white goo erupting from his meaty cockhead 
and splashing all the way up to Helena's sputtering face.
	"Oh, yeah, baby!!" she screamed, running her tongue through the thick 
field of spunk on her pretty face.
	Stenson kept coming and coming, a relentless stream of man chowder lacing 
Helena's coated face and then dropping in ropy strands along her chest, down her 
thighs and finally, just obliterating her pumping feet in an inch-thick layer of 
goop. She pumped his cock for another minute, a thick bubble of spunk oozing out 
and adding to the thick cream already on her feet. When she stopped, he was 
nearly falling over from exhaustion.
	"Uh-uh, I want more," she growled, keeping him erect in her feet.
	"No, no more, cunt," he snapped, trying to pull away.
	She grit her teeth and stroked his cock, reaching up with her hand now to 
grip his nuts. He froze, unable to move for fear she'd hurt him. She stroked his 
cock in her feet harder now, the thick layer of  his wad squishing around and 
flying off, plopping to the carpet and couch. He was sweating heavily now, panic 
in his eyes, but in a few minutes, he gave up another sizable load, this time 
accompanied by a constant squeeze of his balls by her hand.
	"Please....stop..." he begged, eyes wide in fear.
	"Oh, please stop," she mocked. "Like you stopped bombing buses full of old 
women and school children? Like you stopped killing a mosque full of innocent 
prayerful people? Like you stopped maiming bystanders when you blew up 
department stores, you fucker!!!!"
	She snapped her arm down hard, crushing his nuts to paste in her strong 
fingers. He screamed - and came. The milking motion was too much all at once and 
his nuts involuntarily pumped out another thick load of cum. She worked the hand 
hard now as his cock wilted, mashing the softened ball flesh around in her 
fingers until he tried to fall backwards. She slowly let him fall to his back, 
still holding his nutbag in her hand and stretching it out until the flesh 
connecting it to his body was a thin ribbon of abused, hairy meat.
	"Thanks for all the come, sucker," she hissed. "Here, have it back!!"
	Helena stood bent over, one foot by his legs and the other pointed 
straight down into his screaming mouth. His yelps were stifled as she rifled her 
comey foot into his mouth, down his throat, a thick river of his nut lather 
sloughing off and down to his lungs. He tried to gag, but her foot was in the 
way. He could only choke and slowly die, and even more painfully as she used two 
hands now to twist his balls away from his body.
	"Almost....almost....YESSSSSS!!!" she screamed.
	The two-handed nut grip-twist succeeded in yanking away his entire genital 
package from his battered body, a spray of blood and old semen erupting from the 
gaping, torn hole where his balls and cock had just been. She pulled her foot 
from his mouth and he convulsed in agony, screaming a high-pitched scream as his 
hands desperately covered his mauled crotch, a thick river of blood pulsating in 
arterial bursts through his clenched fingers. She danced around the room holding 
his ball package above her head, then threw herself on his chest, pinning his 
face up to look at her in her squatting thighs.
	"Have something to eat, asshole," she growled, and stuffed his cock and 
balls all the way down his throat, sliding back on his chest to pull her come-
stained feet up to smother his face, pinching what little air off he had coming 
through his nose. 
	He twitched madly for a few moments and then went quiet. The gush of blood 
in his crotch stopped when his heart did. Helena stood and went to the bathroom 
to clean up, eager for another assignment as fun as this one.