Melissa's suck job



How far will some people go to achieve those things that are important to them? A question as old as man. And as long as people have goals they feel are important, moral and behavioral standards will be sacrificed for the sake of those goals. Examples can be found everywhere that the end justifies the means for people whose personal achievement, or success, or whatever they choose to call it, is the most important thing in their lives.

MELISSA'S SUCK JOB is the story of a bright, sensual career woman, Melissa Dansin, who is willing to use her considerable charms to advance her journalistic career. Caught up in the struggle to succeed in what is undoubtedly a highly competitive field, Melissa allows herself to become a tool to fulfill her clients' fantasies, willing to indulge them to get what she wants.

MELISSA'S SUCK JOB -- the story of a woman representative of many in our times. A work of fiction for entertainment, but also a statement on the changing mores of our modem society.



CHAPTER ONE

"Oh, God... God! Give me your cock! I want to feel that giant prick inside me! PLEASE!"

Melissa's voice faintly echoed off the lifeless hotel walls. The near-setting sun filled the room with a vivid orange glow that seemed to ignore the sterility of the hotel's typically tasteful furniture, and gratefully envelop the two sweat-soaked bodies.

He placed the blood-engorged tip of his erect prick at the outer lip of her anxiously awaiting cunt, and rubbed its fullness up and down her gushing cunt-lips, with an occasional teasing jab at the hard knob of her clit.

"Tell me how much you want it," he said, taunting her. "Tell me how beautiful it is, bitch."

"It's gorgeous!" she cried. "It's the most beautiful cock I've ever seen, tasted, touched anything! Please let me feel it. I need it, now. Fuck me with that iron-hard beauty!"

The words poured out in a steady stream, broken only by an occasional moan, as his poised prick would jab again and again at her starving clit, sending shocks of promised pleasure through her writhing begging body.

"I don't think you're ready yet," he sneered, his eyes glowing from the thrill of his little game. "You're going to have to want it worse than that before I'll give it to you."

This was not the same man she had met two hours ago, but this did not surprise Melissa Dansin.

At that point, he was merely a hotel clerk handing her forms to fill out. A slim, gangling man, somewhat lost in his neatly pressed suit, desperately frying to hide behind his rimless glasses. In spite of himself, his nervousness, and inability to handle even the basics of his job, he completely exposed the fantasy her sensual presence had created in his mind.

This pleased her. She liked him, and she knew that any man whose fantasy suddenly becomes a reality will fuck twice as hard. It only took seconds, from the time she called down for him to appear at her door, his arms loaded down with books and brochures he had hoped would help her find her way around ton.

Yes, Melissa liked him. She was willing to let him have every ounce of his fantasy.

"Oh, please... Please! I want it now, this second. Fuck me now, you bastard!"

"You'll get it when I'm good and ready, slut." He stopped his probing, and looked down. Her milky thighs were spread wide, exposing her dripping snatch to his hungry eyes.

The desire to continue his little game was waning almost as quickly as his ability to refuse the invitations of her tight little pussy. Even now, his cock was sniffing her gash like some sleek little animal searching out a new home.

He slowly placed the pulsing head in her cunt-mouth, applying just enough pressure for her to feel it. She pushed up with her hips, trying desperately to swallow his cock with her cunt. She tried this several times, but he would retreat with each attempt just enough to maintain the same pressure.

"Now," she snapped. "Goddamn it! Now, shove it in, you sonofabitch!"

Almost as a punctuation to her sentence, he quickly reached around and grabbed her firm buttocks as he rammed his hips forward. His motion was stopped only by the sudden collision of their pubic mounds, and the slap of his loaded balls on her ass.

Her body arched, and her chin shot skyward as she accepted the full force of his powerful thrust. A loud moan of pleasure escaped her throat, a moan that started in her belly, now completely full with his huge prick.

"Oh, God, it's tearing me apart! It's so damn big and I love it."

"You're... you're damn right, cunt. I'm going to fuck you so... so good you'll... beg... beg."

The sentence faded out, and the words were replaced with throaty sighs as the pleasure of Melissa's skillful, wanton cunt began filling his senses. Realizing the game was over, she took charge.

Quickly she pulled his body down on hers. Their chests met in a crushing embrace that forced her ample tits to bulge outward towards her sides.

Her hungry mouth sought and found his as her hot tongue crashed the pearly baffler of his teeth, searching, probing, trying desperately to fill herself with as much of him as she possibly could. She pulled his willing tongue deeply into her mouth, sucking it as though it were a slippery, headless cock.

His hips responded by ramming harder through the clinging walls of her spongy twat, and battering her cervix in an effort to drive as deeply as possible into her deliciously sinful body. His every thrust seemed guided by the burning desire to touch his own tongue, by flow sucked clear into her throat, with the tip of his hotly swollen rod.

Melissa broke the kiss and began moving downward. At the same time she shifted her hips up to take in even more of his surging cock.

"Fuck me harder. I want all of your prick," she gasped as her body swayed in fluid, snakelike motions.

Her tongue danced across his chest, coming to rest on his nipple as it stood at perfect passionate attention. Her renewed sucking awakened sleeping capillaries, which now filled with blood -- turning once pale areolas into swollen purple buds.

She also took advantage of her position to begin grinding her own tits across his smooth, hairless stomach, allowing the friction on her nipples to send tingling waves of pleasure through her body.

"Christ almighty," he moaned. "I can't believe what's happening. It's so good... you fuck so damn good."

Her reply was simple. "Lover, we're just getting started."

As she spoke, her right hand deftly found its way under the craving mass of their twisting bodies, and moved up until her fingers had gently encircled his bouncing nuts. As she closed her grip, she could feel his balls churning the giant load that would soon explode itself into her steaming box.

She began to slowly and carefully massage his bloated testes, sending wave after wave of sensation coursing through his body and, at the same time, controlling his orgasm so that it was guaranteed to match hers, in time and intensity.

"You like that, lover? You like having your balls milked?"

All she could get were his grunts for an answer as his body fully responded to each new delight.

He drove his cock deeper and deeper into her sopping cunt, thrusting in perfect cadence with her expert manipulations. Her own body was rewarded with shock upon shock of pure pleasure as each thrust raked across her burning clitoris.

And still she pushed on, driving him to the threshold of sexual intensity.

Slowly she dragged the nails of her left hand down his sweating back, the drifting ringers digging into trembling flesh, but creating only enough pain to heighten the pleasure. His back rose in trails of fiery welts.

Her hand continued down, running over the taut muscles of his ass as they pumped his furiously lunging cock. Slowly they snaked down into the crack, and came to rest on the sensitive rim of his asshole.

"What are you doing?" he gasped. His pounding hips settled into a slow grind as her finger toyed with its new discovery.

"I'm going to ream you, lover. I want you to have what I'm having. I want you to feel me inside you."

His asshole tightened. Her finger, already lubricated with his sweat, began climbing the reluctant channel -- slowly at first, then ramming suddenly, deep into his bowels.

"Fuck it! Shit, it's... it's..." His shit-muscle gradually accepted the probing intruder, and loosened its panicked grip. "More! Give me more!" he screamed. "I want more of you!"

His hips increased their tempo as her finger did its wanton work. Quickly the rhythm built, her reaming digit now joined by a second, and finally a third, tearing angrily at his quivering asshole.

"Shit! Oh, shit, ream me! Ram your fingers into my ass! Your whole fucking hand! ANYTHING!"

His body ran wild with passion. His downstroke would ram home, driving out her gushing juices with its force. On the upstroke he would rise, impaling his asshole on her knowing hand.

"Shit it hurts. It hurts so much, and I love it! I can't wait any longer. I'm going to cum!"

"Not until I'm ready," Melissa moaned, tightening her grip on his bulging balls. "Not until you tell me how good it is. Am I fucking you good, lover?"

"God, yes!" His response came quickly and mindlessly, his body much too last in perfect bliss to make comparisons. "Shit, it's never felt this good, ever. Shit! Fuck! Shit!"

She toyed momentarily with the idea of making him play his own pleading game, but dismissed it immediately as she felt the rising pressure of her own orgasm. Her body, finally yielding to the continual thrusts of his raging cock, began pumping frantically.

"I'm almost then!" she cried as she shoved her hungry cunt over the full length of his slippery prong. "Fuck me hard! Cram me, pound me with your prick, and don't stop!"

Her legs reached out and wrapped his body in a crushing embrace. Her hand released its grip on his sperm-laden balls.

Her cunt muscles contracted rhythmically, pulling, sucking, trying desperately to milk the jizz from his fleshy rod.

Their orgasms were instantaneous, and mutual. More like one than two. One person spilling its flood in one giant surge.

His sperm rose up like a boiling geyser as his body shook and jolted spastically. Stream after stream of his hot fuck-cream gushed into her sucking pussy. Their bodies heaved erratically as Melissa's own climax rolled outward from her throbbing clit, and blew through her body like some giant explosion.

Every nerve in their bodies screamed out its release. Each body worked to drain every ounce of satisfaction from its partner.

The movement slowed as gentle aftershocks rippled through each lover, bringing shivers to first one, and then the other.

Gradually her cunt lost its masterful grip as his withering cock withdrew from its spongy sheath. His cock fell out, opening the way for his cum to trickle down the crack of Melissa's ass, forming a warm pool on the bed beneath her.

She smiled a very happy smile. Her head turned to survey the room, taking in the fading glow of the sunset with every one of her five senses. After a short pause he spoke.

"Welcome to Chicago."

"Thank you," she said as she studied the look of hope on his face. "If you can believe an old Nebraska farm girl, it's the nicest welcome I've ever had anywhere."

"Ready?"

"Really."

His face, hardly able to disguise the pride this idea gave him, beamed in a broad smile. His head came down to place an artless, almost boyish kiss on her willing lips.

Slowly he rose, and with all the remaining strength he could command, rolled onto the bed next to her.

She watched him as his body came to rest, eyes closed, savoring the glory she had given him. She eyed him a few seconds longer, and then lowered her head to his soft cock.

She began slowly running her tongue over the wet prick, lapping up the mingled juices of their afternoon fuck.

As she did, she couldn't help feeling a little pride in having satisfied him so completely. She had handled everything, from the seduction to the climax, and still made him think he was the world's greatest lover.

But she didn't mind. In fact, it was a regular part of any sex she had.

Melissa believed that almost any woman could satisfy a man physically, and in that respect she was still one of the best. Her true talent as a lover was that she also satisfied a man mentally, playing the victim to his conquering hero, the innocent girl to his seducer, begging, bullying -- whatever each individual psyche demanded, she was able to sense and provide it.

Her experience taught her that this would bring out the best in any man, and if he was at his best, it could be nothing but better for her. This talent of hers had also proven to be invaluable in her career.

As a journalist, she employed this technique in almost every assignment. She had quickly discovered that, the more intimate the relationship, the more intimate the information a man would divulge. The more his individual quirks were accepted and reinforced, the more he would be willing to share.

It was this simple discovery, and its development into nothing less than a fine art, that enabled her to rise to the top of the Omaha journalistic scene.

It was this same talent that had brought her to Chicago.

"Oh, my God! I've got to meet Pallbrook. What time is it?"

The clerk's body stirred as he glanced at his watch. "Seven-thirty. Why?"

"Damn, it's late! I'll have to rush, but I can make it," she said, leaping from the bed.

"Hey, where you going? I was kind of hoping we could go another round."

She gathered his clothes and dropped them on the bed next to him. "Sorry, lover. I've got a nine-o'clock job interview, and it's important that I look my best."

With her help, he managed to get dressed in the time it took her to draw a bath and arrange for a cab. He barely had the chance to throw a "good luck" over his shoulder before she had him hustled out the door.

She returned to the bathroom and settled easily into the tub of hot water. She needed to plan her attack.

Walter Pallbrook was the head of Chicago-based Personalities magazine, a nation-wide publication that promised its readers the inside story. Melissa knew what this job could mean to her career, and she meant to get it. She also knew her uncanny ability to elicit just the kind of off-beat material he required made her perfect for the job. All that was needed was to convince Pallbrook...

She had already provided one advantage by arriving as late as she had. He was forced to meet her outside his office. They had agreed to meet in the Hancock Building's mile-high restaurant.

This would be perfect. It offered her the best view of the city, and him the best view of her. The rest she would handle.

Her body tried relaxing in the steaming tub. Her mind pictured the various pleasures she had planned for Pallbrook. Suddenly she realized that her clerk had not quite given her everything she needed. Somewhere, deep down, there was still an itch that needed scratching.

Her hand worked its way down, combing through the fluff of her beaver, to rest on the slippery bulb of her clitoris. She rubbed as her mind commenced a replay of her just completed fuck, filling in the little subtleties its reality had lacked.

She ran her fingers up and down the full length of her gash, pulling back with her hand just enough to keep a constant, raking pressure on her quivering little bud. Her motions acted out the drama taking place in her mind's eye.

She had found the itch; now she needed a scratcher.

She could feel her juices beginning to flow as the three fingers of her left hand slid effortlessly into her hungry hole. She began an in and out motion, her cunt-walls contracting to suck every bit of erotic delight from her talented fingers.

Her right hand churned in a circular motion to further catch and batter her throbbing clit. Her hips swayed in rhythm to her pounding hand, causing small waves to slap against the tub's porcelain sides.

She continued finger-fucking for several minutes, waiting for the thrill to overtake her restless body. It didn't happen. For some reason she still itched.

Momentarily she cursed herself for having gotten rid of the clerk so quickly. Her own touch was not enough. She wanted more. She needed to be filled.

She needed "Pretty Pete".

Quickly she rose from the tub and entered the main room. She ignored the sudden blast of cold air as she opened her suitcase and reached for the oblong plastic case. She smiled as she sat back on the bed, opened the box and planted a firm, loving kiss an its contents.

"Pretty Pete, friend of the working girl," she chuckled as she pulled it from its plastic sheath.

Pretty Pete was a twelve-inch plastic cock. A perfect replica, from its molded head right down to the two rubber balls that could actually shoot a stream of hot liquid through the shaft. Melissa had used it often to fulfill some otherwise unsuccessful evenings.

But to her it was more than a mere substitute. It was a friend, a pleasure in its own right, and she loved it.

She ran the head around in her mouth. She almost seemed to be making love to it, allowing her tongue to stroke the tip like a real cock. Her hand reached into her dripping box, pulling out a rich helping of hot juice with which to lubricate the massive shaft.

Satisfied that it was properly primed, Melissa scooted back to lean on the headboard. She pulled her heels clear up to her ass, and spread her legs wide in readiness.

She placed the glistening tip at her cunt-mouth, and pulled it towards herself. Slowly, one inch at a time, it entered, spreading her twat as it climbed the sopping channel of her belly. Her breath came in gasps, her body trembled, as its full width -- thick as a man's wrist -- tore at her begging cunt-walls.

"Oh, my God... Yes! Fuck, yes! Do it, Pete!" she cried as she finally pulled in the last of its twelve glorious inches. She paused a moment to catch her breath before she began rotating the matchless dildo, slowly at first, then faster, helping her straining muscles to accommodate the bulging plastic dick.

Quickly she returned to her mind-pictures. The actions of her fantasy lover took on the giant proportions of her new attacker. On and on the pictures ran as her body began writhing in sinful, solitary bliss.

Her twisting increased with each thrilling turn of the shaft. Louder and louder she moaned as her passion grew.

Her rotating movement altered, and her hands began to take their own course. Slowly they would pull the artificial cock out of her cunt, then push it in again. Her cunt-walls stretched to their outermost limits, the dildo thrust, poked, driving her thick juices out.

This motion increased, getting faster and faster, taking more of the slippery rod in and out. Her body bucked and heaved as she swallowed the dildo with her burning pussy.

Melissa's mind left her; her body was all that could speak. "God... don't stop! Don't ever stop! I wish this could go on forever. I wish every man had a cock like this. This big... this hard this able to drive me this fucking crazy!"

She now released one hand from the fake cock, freeing it to grab at her swaying tits. She tore at each one, squeezing the nipples until she thought they would bunt. She pulled and pinched, using every bit of self-knowledge to extract the maximum amount of pleasure from what she was doing.

Relentlessly, she kept fucking her cunt, eyes closed, low moans and fast pants emitting from her throat and chest. She felt her climax rising, the sensation filling her body like the predawn light that heralds the arriving sun.

Melissa panted faster and faster, fighting for breath. She stabbed at her creamy pussy, gradually increasing her speed, until her hands were no more than two vague blurs battering away at her twit. Her body heaved wildly, unwilling to control itself.

Finally it broke. At just the right moment she squeezed the dildo's balls, shooting the hot cummy liquid into her match. Her body jolted and convulsed erratically as the mock sperm splashed in the deep inner recess of her scathing cunt.

She continued to squeeze until the balls were empty. Each squirt was timed perfectly to allow the full impact of her climax to course through her. More and more she squeezed, trying against all odds to make the moment last forever.

Her body finally came to rest. Slowly she pulled the dildo from her cunt, and lifted it to her sweating face. She stared at it admiringly, with eyes still glazed from its incomparable pleasures.

Lovingly she brought it to her lips, cleaning it with her appreciative tongue, smelling it, tasting the cream, rewarding it for its efforts. Satisfied that it had been properly thanked, she put Pete back in the case, and returned to her bath.

She settled back in the tub, sharing the sighs of her now satisfied cunt.

When she finished her bath, she dried off and walked to the full-length mirror across from her bed. She casually tossed the towel on the floor as she struck a seductive pose.

"Land sakes alive. You're something else," she giggled as she stared admiringly at her second self.

Melissa had much to admire.

Her thirty-eight-inch tits were firm and erect, standing like twin peaks from her five-feet-five-inch frame. Each was capped with a flaming-pink nipple that stood out proudly against its silver-dollar-sized areola. Her waist narrowed to a perfect twenty-four inches, only to flare out again to a taut, well-muscled thirty-six inches at the hips. Her ass-cheeks hung like two firm cushions and from the side made a perfect half-circle that ran down into two tapered, shapely legs.

All this perfection was capped by a baby-doll face, surrounded by a halo of shining brown hair.

Her pouty lips and soft round eyes gave her a perpetually innocent look that belied the sharp, quick mind it concealed.

She quickly covered the distance to her clothes, and chose what she felt would be the most revealing dress she had. She slipped it on, and returned to the mirror for a second look.

It was perfect.

"Pallbrook, you don't stand a chance."

As she put the finishing touches on, she became aware of the nervousness that was beginning to settle in the pit, of her stomach. A nervousness she had hoped to avoid.

After all, there were no guarantees. She was clever and beautiful, but there were times she had been refused. Besides, even if she did score with Pallbrook, there was no guarantee he would hire her.

"What if I can't pull it off?"

She knew that she had to. She caught her own frozen stare in the mirror as her reverie was broken by the ringing of her room phone.

"Hello."

"Your cab is here, Ms. Dansin."

"Thank you. I'll be right down."

Her eyes went quickly back to the minor. She flashed a large, toothy smile, leaned forward, and planted a large, comic kiss on her own image.

"Melissa, honey, you're going to do just fine."

CHAPTER TWO

The cab poked along through the downtown traffic. As they crept along, Melissa stared at the State Street marquees and cursed herself for not bringing a jacket. She wished she could roll up the window, but the driver's cigar made the cool lake breeze and a few goosebumps seem the lesser of two evils.

"Ain't usually this much traffic," he droned, his voice hitting Melissa's ear with that nasal twang that set Chicago apart from the rest of the Midwest. "Must be something going on at the Auditorium, or maybe up on Rush Street."

Melissa ignored him, preferring silence and her thoughts to his cabbie's gossip. She stared blankly at the evening crowds as her mind jumped randomly from one thought to another, finally coming to rest on the memory of her first job interview. She was suddenly surprised by the similarities. The setting was different, she was certainly different, but the situation was very much the same.

Melissa Dansin was born and raised in Omaha. Her parents were Bible-belt Midwesterners who taught her all there was to know about the sins of the flesh and the blessings of the Good Book. She absorbed this so well that she managed to make it through high school with her purity intact.

She had experimented, of course, but her parents controlled her. Besides this there was her career. She was convinced she was going to be the world's greatest writer.

It was with great reluctance that her parents speed to let her leave home and attend the University of Nebraska. The fact that Lincoln was only an hour away helped to lessen their fears. It was there she met Jeff Rogers, a third-year med student, and fell in love.

With Jeff came all the desires and yearnings she missed earlier. With Jeff also came frustration and restlessness. They both had had the same upbringing, and both had learned the same sexual values. The problem was, he was as totally committed to his as she was willing to abandon hers.

He was determined they should marry in the proper way -- two virgins ready to sacrifice their purity on the altar of their matrimonial bed. She felt otherwise, but her charms and persuasions barely dented the barrier of his beliefs. In fact, there was only one time that she even came close. It had been a typical date night, ending with a heavy session in Jeff's car. As usual, he kissed and felt up her body to a peak of sexual tension, only to break it abruptly and drive her to the dorm.

This particular evening, however, she had the room to herself. Her roommate had gone home to visit the folks, and Melissa took advantage of it to persuade Jeff to sneak up.

Once in the room their love-play took on a new light. Up until now they were always forced to make out furtively. Always in his car, or a friend's house. Always the danger of discovery.

But suddenly they were truly alone. Free to touch openly. Free to be naked. Under Melissa's subtle guidance they were both shed of their clothes in minutes, spiraling up to a height of passion they had never before shared.

Jeff stared, almost in disbelief, at the perfection of Melissa's body. His hands moved with a mind of their own as they tore at her tits, kneading them, pulling them, his lips moving down to bite at the erect nipples. His tongue swirled around the tiny nubs, flicking, darting until his lips closed in, trying to suck the very life from her beautiful tits.

Now his other hand traveled over her entire body. His fingers played over her warm flesh, memorizing every square inch, until they finally came to rest in the juice-soaked patch of her fiery cunt.

And Melissa was by no means idle. She was staring, for the first time, at his naked cock, the object of so many fantasies and dreams. She grasped it appreciatively, squeezing it, thrilling at its massive width and hardness.

She then began running her fingers up and down its length, tracing the lines of its large, blood-engorged veins, and finally wrapping her hand around its flared and pulsing head. Her hand now stroked the fleshy shaft, her thumb dragging across the very tip as Jeff's fingers rammed harder and harder into her tight pussy.

The sweat poured from their bodies as their manipulations continued on and on, their groans filling the tightly academic surroundings with new life.

At last Jeff was over the brink. No longer in control, he swung his hips into position between her spread-eagled thighs. Melissa's heart soared as she prepared herself for the pain of his entry, but it was not to come.

Almost the second his prick touched the virgin sanctity of her begging cunt, it withered. "An act of God", he called it. She just cried.

Melissa's only satisfaction during the year and a half they were at school was writing, and finger-fucking. Whereas writing had been an alternative to sex in high school, it now became a substitute. She would fill page upon page of her journals with her sexual fantasies, shocking herself with her own frankness and imagination.

It was to her great relief that Jeff finally announced their engagement. He had graduated, and was going to take his internship in Omaha. They were to be married as soon as he settled at the hospital. Melissa could see an end at last to her sexual longings.

But her engagement awakened new frustrations. Her marriage meant quitting school, but this did not bother her. What did bother her was his insistence on a full-time wife. According to him, she was to tend house and raise children, not indulge herself in some career that would drain both time and energy from their marriage.

Finally, she got him to compromise. He was making next to nothing as an intern, and she convinced him it would be necessary for her to take a job if they were to meet expenses. It was in this atmosphere that she went job-hunting. With her marriage four months away, she decided to use the time to sort out her feelings and see where her commitments were.

To her surprise she needed only one day.

She took it as an omen when she got an interview with the first newspaper she tried. Portfolio in hand, she wound her way through the maze of halls and shuffling people, knocking on wrong doors until she found Lester Balinger's office.

Her nervousness and excitement carried her almost unconsciously through the first half of the interview. It was not until he was reading through her portfolio that she calmed down enough to notice the man sitting across the desk from her.

He did not look at all like she had imagined. First of all, he could not have been more than three years older than she was. He had a rugged, chiseled face that appeared even tanner under the careless shock of his blond hair.

Then there was his manner -- curt, businesslike, with all the self-assurance authority brings. But most of all, there were those liquid blue eyes planted deep in the shadows of his strong brow.

Those eyes. She could not stop looking at those eyes, even when they lifted.

"It's not polite to stare."

"Am I?" she said, hoping he had not caught the thoughts behind the stare as easily.

"Yes, you are."

"I'm sorry. It's just... well... Oh, it's silly."

"Go ahead. What is it."

"Well... I had no idea what you looked like, but I didn't expect you to look like... you." She blushed as she realized the silliness of the statement.

She was relieved when a large smile broke over his face. "Let me clear something up for you. I'm not Lester Balinger. I'm his son Tom. I'm handling things for few weeks while Dad is on vacation."

Melissa acknowledged her error, and a strangeness filled her as she watched him return to his reading. She began scanning the room, more in an effort to sort out her feelings and avoid staring than to really see anything.

What was this feeling? She was willing to admit that some of it was the excitement of possibly writing and earning money for it. It was something she had wanted for a long time.

But there was also another kind of excitement that was beginning to fill her, and he was responsible. Even though he was nothing more than formal toward her, there was an innate sexuality that seemed to speak to her, confusing her with its intensity. Her mind had difficulty wrestling with these feelings, and she was almost grateful when he spoke again.

"You're a very good writer."

"Thank you," she said, his approval bringing a stronger wave of excitement.

"I especially liked this one piece in here, but I don't know why you didn't finish it." He handed her the sheet of paper.

Melissa could only answer his stare with a questioning look. What was he talking about? They were all finished pieces as far as she was concerned.

Suddenly her heart stopped beating. The blood drained from her face when she realized what she was looking at. One of the pages from her sexual journal had somehow gotten mixed in with her other work, and he had read it.

She quickly looked up, her mouth moving mutely, her mind trying to find some way to explain this paper to him. Any explanation, but the real one -- the chaotic ramblings of a frustrated virgin. It would not come.

In an instant the tears of humiliation began to flow. Unable to speak, she grabbed her portfolio and raced to the door, desperate to escape his amused stare.

"Wait!"

He only said it once, but her body obeyed. He walked to her position at the partially open door, and gently closed it.

"I'm sorry. If I'd known you were going to be so sensitive about it, I wouldn't have joked like that. Do you think you can finish the interview?"

For a few seconds she just stood there limply, her face buried in her chest, trying to find the ability to speak. Even now, in the midst of her humiliation, she could still feel that power, that strangeness building, making her unable to answer.

"Look, obviously you're too upset to go on. I'll tell you what. Since it's all my fault anyway, why don't you let me make it up by taking you out to dinner tonight. We can finish the interview then. Okay?"

"Tonight!" she said, shocked by the sudden lightness this idea filled her with. "No... I can't. I'm engaged."

"I'm not asking you for a date. I just want to finish the interview."

On this basis, she agreed.

The day passed quickly, and with it the afternoon's trauma and confusion. Melissa had managed to rationalize all her feelings as that of an awe-struck job seeker developing a premature crush on her first boss, and dismissed the whole thing.

The evening, however, only intensified her earlier feelings. Outside his office, Tom was an entirely different person. He displayed a charm and humor that thoroughly captivated her. But most of all, his sexuality, only innate in his office setting, now became highly overt, infusing her with its power.

In the course of the evening Melissa felt like a pinball machine as she bounced from one emotion to another. It only seemed natural that dinner should extend itself into dancing, and then into drinks. She caromed constantly between her obligations to Jeff, with its accompanying guilt, and the overpowering excitement of Tom, with its awakening of her primal instincts.

It was not until Tom invited her to his house that things reached a peak. He had made the full implications of his offer obvious, and all she could do was stare blankly, her circuits too overloaded with emotions of every kind to seize on any one. All she could do was wait for one to surface. She needed an answer. Where was the answer?

Suddenly she found it, in the very place she had spent most of the evening looking. His eyes.

He looked at her the way a starving man would look at a banquet. They were the eyes of a man seeing a woman, not some horny college kid staring at a potential wife. Suddenly everything was clear.

Her mind now filled with only one thought. What the hell are you doing, Melissa! Here's a man who's willing and eager to give you the two things you want most in life -- a job, and sex. And you're confused? SLUT! To hell with Jeff and the whole fucking world! I want both, and I'm going to have both.

She had made her commitment, and her whole being suddenly felt free as years of questions and frustrations slipped away. And this commitment held firm, even later, as she sat in the Balinger living room.

The house itself covered several acres of rolling hills on the outskirts of Omaha. The room was spacious and meticulously decorated, but at this point, for Melissa, all that existed was the burning fireplace, the brown velvet sofa upon which she sat, and the large fur rug in between.

As she sat, anticipating the events to come, she was surprised to notice a wave of fear rising with her thoughts. It seemed to stem from the question of her own inexperience. After all, she thought, he was expecting a woman, but was getting a virgin. Would he be upset? Could she please him?

By the time Tom had returned with their drinks, she was determined to find out. She accepted the glass, closed her eyes, took a large swallow for courage, and finally spoke.

"Tom... I think you should know that I've never done anything like this before. I mean, not just being here -- I've never done anything."

"I know," he said, smiling at the difficulty she was having. "I knew that the second I read that sex page."

Tom let her wait a second or two before giving his assurance. He was too experienced a lover to allow any fears to get in their way, but he wanted her a little more than just confident. He wanted her excited. He allowed the suspense to build before playing his ace.

"Well... does it bother you?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't have tried to see you tonight if it did. Besides..." a sly smile now crept across his face, "all our employees are virgins."

It took a second, but once she realized his meaning her eyes widened to the size of silver dollars. "I got the job?"

He nodded.

"Oh, my God, I don't believe it! I just don't believe it!"

Her fears vanished. Excitement and gratitude rose in one sudden burst. Her body shook for a moment as she searched for some way to thank him. Then, with all the quickness of impulse, she leaned over and kissed him full on the mouth.

She had meant for it to be a short kiss, but with a quickness of his own, he caught her behind the head, stopping any retreat. He now returned the kiss, his own excitement -- different, but just as powerful -- entering her through the electric connection of their mouths.

She kissed him, haltingly at first, then more ardently as his fiery tongue filled her with the sweetness of its erotic taste. On and on it swirled, until she found herself sucking fiercely, bringing lingering groans as she tried to swallow the moist organ of flesh.

He now pulled her towards him, locking them in a strong embrace that left the hard bulge of his pants pressed firmly against her thigh. She melted at the feel of his throbbing hard-on through the material. She shivered as the flood of juices began pouring into her open cunt.

Not wasting any time, his hand now reached up, cupping the fullness of her perfect tits in its kneading grasp. A small cry jumped out as a charge of emotion blasted through her body. Its force and suddenness caught her so off guard that her hand shot open, spilling her drink on both of them.

"I'm sorry..." she gasped, trying to catch her breath as she watched the liquid disappear into the fabric of their clothing.

Tom reached over, picked up the empty glass, and placed it on the end table. "I guess we'd better get out of these wet clothes," he whispered.

He was up instantly, but she just sat, too overcome to move. She could only watch as he undressed, the firelight playing across his muscled body.

Sensing her state of mind, Tom walked over, stood before her, and began undressing her. Carefully he pulled the dress over her head. He then unsnapped the bra, and slipped it from her shoulders. He gasped as the vision of the twin mounds, now exposed to his sight, filled his mind with their perfection.

"My God. They're more beautiful than I even imagined." His passion rose as his fingers began to trace the line along the bottom of her tits, meeting to rise up the line of her cleavage, and finally running down the tops to playfully circle the dark nipples.

"Grab them," she said, her voice cracking as the sensation of his fingers pulsed through her.

In answer, he began rubbing, the excitement rising as her tits overflowed in his knowing hands. His thumbs and forefingers pinched and twirled at her nipples, pressing the tiny buds to their full limit.

In the midst of the fondling, Melissa's gaze came to rest on the massive length of his cock, bobbing invitingly in front of her face. It was much larger than Jeff's, and almost menacing in its proud strength. In an almost trance-like way she grabbed the meaty tool and began stroking it with her cheek, her nostrils filling with its musky aroma.

"You're beautiful, too," she mewed. "You're so big and hard. I don't see how it can go inside me, it's so huge."

"Kiss it," he said, his hands still working her swollen tits. "Peel it with your mouth."

She wantonly obeyed. Grabbing his prick with her one hand, she lightly flicked her tongue across the tip, lapping up the tiny trickle of lubricant that ran from it. Quickly her tongue moved over it, waking every inch of its gigantic length with her saliva, as she sucked his cock-head deep into her mouth.

Soon she was tonguing his prick like a woman possessed. She had gotten her first taste of his cock, and she loved it. Her head pumped back and forth frantically as her free hand fondled his bursting ball-sac, the sparsely haired jewels swollen with desire.

Knowing that he would cum in her mouth if she kept up much longer, Tom now popped his bulging prick from her mouth. Quickly he helped her to her feet, removed her panties, and hold her in his naked embrace.

Melissa's breath quickened, her pulse ringing in her cars as she felt his bare cock press against her lower stomach. It seemed almost to burn through her, radiating through her skin to further inflame her seething snatch.

"Take me," she groaned, her body grinding into his. "Oh, God, I want it now. I'm tired of waiting. Make me a woman, Tom. Make me feel like a woman."

His hand snaked its way down to her gushing cunt-lips, and began running up and down its length, pulling the dripping juices out to soak and cud the soft hairs of her pussy.

"Get me wet," he said. "Use your cunt to lubricate my cock. It'll slide in easier."

"Yes... yes, anything!" She lifted up on her toes, parted her legs, and ran the pulsing cock between her thighs.

His prick traveled the full length of her slit, its head projecting out the back. Quickly she began hunching over it, spreading the thick coating of her pussy-cream on his dick, crying out as the throbbing fuck-pole ground against her clit.

"Oh, shit! I want you to fuck me! Stick your big prick in me anywhere! Suck my tongue, suck my tits, suck my cunt! Suck me! FUCK ME!"

Her own words now poured out mindlessly. Those wonderful words that until now she would only use in her journals suddenly flooded out, their own sound sending her over the threshold into that passionate world of abandon.

Judging the time to be right, Tom lowered her carefully to the floor. She released a giant groan as the soft fur of the rug began caressing her body like thousands of soft, tiny fingers.

"Oh, shit yes!" she cried as she felt the hot tip of his prick bump up against the firm guardian of her maidenhead. "Yes... now! Give me your cock NOW!"

Tom thrust firmly against her virgin pussy, jabbing savagely with his huge fuck-pole. On and on he pushed, his cock ripping at the tough membrane of her cherry.

"Damnit!" she screamed. "Oh, God, it's tearing me apart! Stop! It's too big, you'll kill me! Stop!"

But he ignored her, holding her securely about the hips so she could not squirm away from the fiery agony that consumed her. Relentlessly he kept pushing, until suddenly the cunt-lips parted, opening the way for his huge cock.

His left hand now guided the tip of his pulsing meat into her tautly stretched box, pushing it farther and farther in. Repeatedly she called out in protest as the pain of his steadily climbing prick shot through her body.

Then suddenly the pain lessened, and she knew the worst was over. The feel of his balls on her ass told her that Tom's cock had now entered her cunt completely, and she felt relieved as Tom stopped, allowing them to remain motionless for a few minutes. Allowing her time to adjust.

And now a new feeling took over. It was the pain-mingled ecstasy of feeling a stiff cock inside her cunt that filled her with the most insanely erotic sensation she had ever experienced.

Melissa could feel the intense throbbing of the cock inside her cunt as he withdrew it slightly, then pushed it back. He repeated this motion several times until he could feel the tenseness draining from Melissa's body. "Does it feel good now? Is it better for you?" he asked, pulling the sweat-soaked hair away from her eyes.

"Yes. It feels wonderful. It's so good to have you in me. Filling me up with your gorgeous cock."

Her words gave him confidence as he started taking longer and fuller strokes. The initial pain of Tom's penetration was now gone. For Melissa only the ever-growing, intensely exciting sensation of pleasure remained.

"I can't believe it... it's wonderful," she said. "I never thought anything could feel this good."

The tempo of their fucking increased as Tom held on tightly to her hips, guiding her movements to meet each one of his savage thrusts. The sweat flowed from their bodies as their grunts and moans became even more urgent, more desperate, more abandoned.

"Oh, shit!" he cried. "Your cunt's fantastic! It feels like it's trying to swallow me. Shit, I love it!"

"Yes!" she cried, her cunt grabbing at the surging rod. "Fuck me harder! Harder! HARDER!! Fuck my beautiful cunt! DON'T STOP!"

Melissa was in a state of drunken delirium, moaning and groaning as each ferocious thrust racked her body.

At last Tom felt the sperm rising inside his balls, and knew he could not delay his orgasm much longer. He lifted up on his hands, his body arching forward to allow the base of his cock to batter her exposed clitoris, trying to accelerate her climax and make them simultaneous.

The savage pressure of his stroking was all it took to push both of them to the final brink of orgasmic seizure. It came explosively, equally, as Tom released jet after jet of his scalding fuck-cream into her quivering pussy. Melissa's body shook frantically as he filled her tight cunt-hole with his spunk, the flooding juice oozing out of the cock-engorged ring of her pussy to run down the groove of her ass.

As their twisting bodies came to rest, Melissa could find only one thing to say. Barely audible, it came out mingled in the large sigh that escaped her throat.

"Thank you."

As Melissa's mind drifted back to the present, she became aware that the cab was parked -- probably for some time -- in front of the Hancock Building. She also became aware that her hands had been working her tits and cunt -- also for some time -- in sympathy with her fond recollection.

Self-consciously, she checked the driver in the rear-view mirror, and was relieved to see his focus firmly rooted on the activities of the street. She exited the cab, and came around to the front window to pay the bill.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, digging through her purse.

"It's on the house."

Her eyes rose to thank him, but her voice stopped short at the sight that greeted her. He was sitting there leering, as his hand slowly fisted his exposed cock.

"Just let me know your room number and I'll return the favor. After all, there ain't no point in a dame like you just thinking about it, when you can have the real thing."

Melissa was angry. She loved to fuck, but hated to be taken advantage of. "The real thing, huh? I'll tell you what. Bring it along next time, and leave the scale model at home."

She winked, turned, and paraded into the building.

CHAPTER THREE

The restaurant was softly lit, with music emanating from the small piano bar. She scanned the crowded room, trying to guess which table was Pallbrook's. Her gaze finally settled on a well-dressed man at a window seat, and she sauntered over to him.

"Mr. Pallbrook?"

"Hi... I'm Melissa Dansin," she said, holding out her hand.

For a brief second he just stared, almost as though he didn't understand, before rising to return the handshake. "I'm sorry, Miss Dansin, I didn't mean to stare. Your articles clearly display your talent, but indicate little of your beauty."

Melissa smiled. She was pleased by his reaction to her. She held his hand for a few seconds, taking advantage of the time to size him up.

He was a medium-sized man with not the least bit of paunch to give away his age-forty-three. His cropped black hair was full, but generously sprinkled with gray.

Once they were seated, Pallbrook wasted no time in calling her attention to the view. He had obviously taken great care to reserve the best table, and seemed to relish pointing out the various landmarks, backing them with a prolific amount of history and facts.

The view was indeed breathtaking. The Hancock Building was the second tallest building in the world, and they were sitting just a few stories from the top. Only a plate-glass window stood between them and the sprawling metropolis below. The city lights seemed to Melissa to stretch clear to the horizon, flickering and shimmering in the cool Lake Michigan water.

The first part of the evening was consumed mostly by small talk. It was not until dinner was over that she was able to steer him onto the subject of her, and her employment prospects. She plied him carefully, but he refused to commit himself, offering only vague answers to her questions.

She struggled along for nearly an hour, trying to get some indication of her status before finally giving up. Realizing she was getting nowhere, she was quick to resort to the only means she knew she could rely on for information and persuasion. Her body.

Pallbrook was hardly aware of the subtle change in her. Her transition from journalist to woman was never blatant. The only indication any man ever had of her difference in attitude was the gradual increase in his own pulse and temperature as his passion grew. Pallbrook was no exception.

"What first attracted me to you... excuse me... I mean your writing," he said, confused by the power of her vibrations, "was your seemingly uncanny ability to uncover very private information. What's your secret?"

"Well, I don't know for sure. I'll have to think." She went through the motions of mentally searching, her finger randomly twirling the strap of her dress. It had all the appearance of an idle gesture, but sewed to cover and uncover her tit, the nipple peeking out to wink at his stolen glances.

"No. I guess I don't really have one."

"There must be something," he said, his hands fidgeting nervously on the table.

"Well... yes. I suppose you could say it's my willingness."

His eyes seemed to brighten at the word. "What do you mean... willingness?"

"Willingness... uh... givingness," she said brightly as the thumb and forefinger of her left hand began stroking up and down on the barrel of the salt shaker. "You see, most reporters only want to be given things, they never want to give anything in return. Most people resent it."

"But you don't?"

"No. When I interview someone, I'm always willing to return the kindness."

His nervousness was very evident now, his body almost shaking. "And how do you do that?"

"To be blunt -- any way they want."

At this moment she reached out and folded her hand around his. Only a second passed before it happened, leaving Melissa dumfounded in its wake.

"GOD DAMN IT!" he yelled pausing a moment to allow the other diners to stop staring before continuing in a forced whisper. "Look. I think there are a few things you should know, young lady. I'm not some horny old man out to be seduced by every young job-hunter that comes along. First of all, I'm a happily married man, and even if I wasn't, I long ago made a vow never to cheat on my wife, and I intend to keep it."

"But, sir, I..."

"Secondly, and most importantly, I've gotten where I am in this world today by hard work, and by never owing anything, to anybody, for any reason. In other words, if you will excuse the expression, I never dip my pen in company ink. Do I make myself clear?"

Melissa's head shook, more in obedience than in understanding.

"Good. Now, since our business is concluded, I shall escort you home."

The rest was silence -- cold, brutal silence. Even when he placed his coat over her shivering shoulders, he refused to speak. The ride home was interminable. It was with some relief that she finally arrived at her hotel and went up to her room.

But the relief was short-lived as her own mind began torturing her with questions. How could she have been so wrong? How did she mistake his anger for passion? What the hell was she going to do now?

She sat before the mirror, her eyes searching for some answer in the image before her. She stared silently, watching the tears begin to well up. Suddenly her phone buzzed. She cleared her throat, choking down the rise of emotion before answering.

"Hello."

"Hello, Miss Dansin. This is Mr. Pallbrook. I... uh... I believe you still have my coat."

"I'm sorry, I forgot. Yes, I have it."

"May I come up for it?"

"Yes, of course."

She hung up the phone and used the next few moments to put the room, and herself, in order. Her mind struggled feverishly trying to put together some form of apology, but there just did not seem to be any time before the knock came.

She grabbed the coat and opened the door, resigned to the impossibility of apology. To her surprise he ignored her gesture, and merely stood there, the small case of a portable bar under his arm.

"Look. I'm afraid I got a little out of control," he said, shifting nervously. "I was wondering if you'd allow me to apologize, and perhaps offer you a drink."

He almost laughed out loud in gratitude. "Sure. Please come in."

He entered the room, setting the bar on the night stand as Melissa closed the door, and settled into the room's only chair. He mixed them quickly, and efficiently, bringing Melissa hem before retreating to a safely distant position on the edge of her bed.

His duties finished, he sat pensively. The awkwardness of his silence filled the room. Melissa actually felt sorry for him as he struggled for some way to begin a conversation. She decided to help.

"Mr. Pallbrook, why are you here?"

"Uh... I... uh..." His mumbling faded out as his eyes stared meekly at his drink.

Melissa had a feeling. Having been burned once already, she hesitated before speaking. But only a second. When Melissa was sure she was right, she jumped in, and took the consequences.

"Mr. Pallbrook... did you come here to make love to me?"

He stared at her a moment before speaking. "Well let's put it this way. I'm here because I'm not sure... at all sure... that I don't want to."

Without a word Melissa set her drink on the floor and stood. Slowly, carefully, trying for the greatest impact she could attain, she undressed.

She reached under her skirt, removed her panties, and tossed them into the corner. She stood there making sure she had his complete attention before she removed the straps of her dress from her shoulders.

The dress fell smoothly to the floor, dropping like a curtain to expose the smooth perfection of her naked body to his searching eyes. He stared spellbound as she breathed in deeply, sending the massive globes of her tits heaving upward, the nipples hardened to their full length and standing like tiny oases in a desert of flesh.

"My God, you're beautiful," he whimpered. "I'll bet you're a fantastic fuck."

She crossed to stand directly in front of him, allowing the soft odor of her warm cunt to fill his nostrils. "You're welcome to find out."

"I can't. I made myself..."

"A promise, I know," she interjected, her hands now running through her hair. "But there are other things than fucking you know. Trust me. If anyone ever asks you what we did tonight, you'll be able to say, with a clear conscience, that all you did was talk, drink, and eat."

As he thought, his eyes stared, fascinated at the wealth of her tempting cunt. The mat of her pussy hair spread wide before him, parted in the center by the pulpy pink lips of her slit.

"Yes... of course," he said, his two thumbs burrowing into her willing gash, pulling it open to watch as her building juices dribbled down out of her cunt-hole. "Yes. That's all. All I did was eat."

"That's right, lover. Eat!"

Without hesitation he buried his face between her thighs until his nose pressed firmly against her tiny clit. His hands swung around, gasping at the firm pillows of her ass-cheeks as he pulled her towards him.

She moaned, grabbing at her own tits as he started a long, tingling, lapping motion with the full width of his tongue. It started at the entrance of her twat, and ran forward, up between her cunt-lips to her clitoris.

"Is it good, lover?" she moaned. "Does my cunt taste good to you?"

"Yes," he answered, his tongue rising up to scoop the steaming cunt-sauce into his stroking mouth. "It's wonderful. God, it tastes wonderful!"

Her hands pressed and pulled her tits in matched motion with his tongue. As his agile licker plunged into the heated opening of her twat, she would crush her boobs, the ample flesh bulging outward. Then as it slid up the open groove of her crack, she would pull, stretching the pliant mounds to their limit, and pinching the nipples at the exact moment he would strike her quivering love-bud.

The combined ecstasy of her dual stimulation's drove her to the peak of sexual frenzy. Her fuck-fluids ran like a river over his chin, down his throat. What juices did not overflow his mouth, he swallowed in greedy gulps.

Then suddenly his tongue changed course, and dove solidly up her gushing cunt-hole. Her spine seemed to melt as her body hunched over, slapping her wet crotch into his lapping face. His tongue pierced her cunt like a hot poker.

"Oh! Yes, ram me with it!" she groaned, her head thrown back on her shoulders. "Ream me with your fucking tongue!"

Unable to answer, he responded by climbing deeper and deeper into the soft sheath, the rich juice streaming down his cheeks. His head moved quickly from side to side, his nose massaging her clitoris and driving her crazy with delight.

"Oh, skit! Fuck! Your cock!" she cried. "I want your cock! I want to swallow it while you suck my pussy dry!"

There was no stopping her now. She pulled him from his position, tearing at his clothes, and in seconds he was spread-eagled on the bed, his giant cock staring up in anticipation. Melissa jumped between his legs to stare in wide-eyed admiration at his huge cock.

She placed her hands round the shaft, and skinned the cock-head clear. Willingly it peeled into view, juice already oozing from its rosy tip. The blood-filled veins stood out majestically from the firm shaft, pulsing their passion up and down its full length.

"Oh, God, what a cock. What a beautiful, huge cock. God, I want it. It'll reach clear down to my belly it's so big."

"Take it, Melissa," he moaned. "I want to fill your beautiful face with it."

She opened her mouth, and placed her lips on its bulging head. Just the bulb entered her mouth as her tongue caressed his knob, the tip teasing and poking at the tiny hole of his cum-chute.

She watched as his sweating body writhed in response to her passionate tonguing. She hefted his heavy balls in one hand, and started sucking the knob of his prick.

"Go on. Suck it! Move it... move your head like it was your cunt. Swallow my cock with your face!"

Slowly his hips began grinding into her. She slid her head effortlessly down the massive prick, its bulk ramming clear into her throat as her nose buried itself into the curly patch of his pubic hair.

"God damn it," he moaned. "No one's ever taken it that deep. Shit, it's unbelievable! Shit! FUCK!"

Melissa was thrilled. She sucked harder, savoring the rigidness and vibrancy of his massive meat sliding over her tongue and down into her gullet. His cock swelled larger with each thrust.

"Give me your cunt again!" he yelled, his head rolling chaotically from side to side. "I want you to cum with me! I want you to blow when I blow!"

She turned her body, offering up the tempting meat of her snatch. Her legs straddled his face, and lowered the banquet to his waiting lips. The hard surges of his cock bounded into her cheeks, her climax scraping on the rough pubic hairs of his crotch as his tongue filled her cunt to the core.

Their passion spiraled quickly as Melissa began bouncing up and down on his dick, her head bobbing as fast as it could go.

"Suck it!" he gasped. "Suck the hell out of my cock! Pound my face with your box!"

He began breathing faster. His hips jerked up, drilling his prick into her throat. His hand tore at her dangling tits as his mouth chewed on the tasty button of her clit.

She screamed, groaning encouragement as her pistoning hips rammed into his face. Her climax was building quickly in her churning, burning cunt.

He could also feel the jizz rising. He switched his focus to her wiggling clit, straining to make her cum with him. His tongue wagged fiercely, using her clitoris like a tiny punching bag.

"It's coming!" he screamed. "I can't hold it off any more!"

"Yes! Yes! Do it! I'm coming, too! Let it come! Let it fill me up!"

He thrust his cock to the hilt inside her burning mouth, and shot off into her throat with gushing gobs of jet-like jism. She sucked frantically, tasting each explosion, swallowing the via, salty fuck-cream as her own orgasm cascaded over her, shattering her with its force.

She collapsed against him, his mouth pulling fiercely, gobbling as much of the pungent cunt-cream as he could. The remainder flowed down his face in tiny streams.

It was over all too quickly, but the shivers continued for a more lingering period. The two bodies remained motionless for nearly an hour, each lost in the fond ecstasy of satisfaction.

Finally, Pallbrook got up and dressed. He gathered his paraphernalia together and prepared to leave, stopping at the bed. As he spoke, it was only the gentle stroking of his hand across her hair that belied the businesslike tone he used.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning at ten o'clock."

The sun seemed gloriously brighter the next day as she sat in Pallbrook's office. His attitude was firm but playful as she signed the necessary contracts. Having decided that her talents were unique indeed, Pallbrook put her on the Special Assignments Desk.

Her spirits were bursting with enthusiasm as she entered the spacious cubicle with its three desks. The two men seated in the room stared in amazement, and curiosity. Her high spirits filled the room.

"Good morning, fellow workers. Melissa Dansin here, and I'm ready to take this town apart."

As she stood beaming, one of the men got up, a glower on his face. He walked over, thrusting a pile of pages into her hand rudely.

"Ralph Murdock here," be sneered. "Since you're so ready to work, you can start on this."

"Okay," she said, amazed at the coldness of his attitude.

"I expect this on my desk by the day after tomorrow, and I expect at least an adequate level of literacy. And while we're on the subject of work, let's get one thing clear. Pallbrook may talk about you like your shit don't stink, but I'm the supervisor here, and I'm the man who will decide what's good or bad. Got it?"

"Yes, I think so," she squeaked as he brushed past her, disappearing into the hall.

"What did I do?"

The other man now walked over, an apologetic smile on his face. "I'm sorry about that. Please ignore Murdock. He's been steaming all morning, ever since he heard you were coming."

"Why?"

"Oh, he's got this bug about career women. He doesn't trial any woman that isn't a housewife or a secretary. Hi... I'm Bob Richmond." His hand shot out and grabbed hers affectionately.

"Thanks... It's nice to see a warm face."

"Yeah. Well, it's nice to have a woman around. Now, why don't we get you started? Two days isn't a hell of a lot of time for a first, article."

Melissa knew instantly that they would become good friends. He was a neat, bookish person, with an almost boyish quality. He looked very collegiate with his short hair, and wire-rim glasses. He did everything he could to help her set up the assignment.

She was to interview Franklin Walsh, a TV-network bigwig who was in town to discuss scheduling with the local station. She arrived for her appointment promptly at eleven-thirty. Her spirits rekindled, she was anxious to make her first assignment a big success.

She knocked briskly on the door of the suite, and gasped in delight at the face that greeted her. He was a tall, elegant man of about thirty-eight, who looked like he had stepped out of an issue of Gentlemen's Quarterly. He had soft, modeled features, highlighted by a thick, dark mustache, and a well-cut head of black, shiny hair.

"Mr. Walsh?"

"No. I'm his personal secretary Darren Meredith," He shook her hand firmly. "Mr. Walsh is expecting you. Come in."

Once in the room, her heart sank. Before her sat Mr. Walsh, an old man of seventy-one. As the interview commenced, he proved to be very witty and charming, but completely impervious to her charms.

She paled at the wealth of trite information he delivered. She resigned herself to the reality of a humdrum article. It was not until halfway through the session that a ray of hope dawned in the person of Darren Meredith.

His eyes devoured her, and she saw in them a promise of richer material. She now moved her body cunningly, taunting him with it, dangling it like a soft morsel, teasing him until she could detect a firm bulge in his crotch.

It was not until the interview was over, and he was showing her out, that she made her move.

"I'm sorry to trouble you. There's no point in my going back to the office today, and I'm familiar enough with the city yet to take a bus. Would you mind driving me home?"

"Certainly, no trouble at all."

The ride home was filled with pleasant talk. As two strangers to Chicago, they compared notes on what the city offered, and agreed they should see some of the sights together.

Melissa was pleased with the progress of things. By the time they arrived at the hotel, Melissa was wit the night would be hers to wine and dine with this beautiful fount of information.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" he said, his arm resting on the car seat behind her.

"No, what?"

"Well, I think I know what your interest in me is. I've got information that you want, and I think I know how far you're willing to go to get it."

"My question is, are you willing to get it out of the way right now? That way I can take you out tonight, and get to know you without all this bullshit in the way."

She smiled. "Yes... why not?"

That was all that needed to be said. The next words to pass between them were the groans and cries of passion.

"Oh, God," she gasped, "yours is the biggest prick I've ever seen!"

And it was. Melissa wrapped her flaming mouth over the bulging head, soaking it with her saliva, quivering in anticipation of its mighty entry into her running hole. She marveled at the pure size of it, bigger than any cock she had ever known.

"Do you want it now?" he groaned, his body aching to feel her cunt wrapped around his prick.

"Yes... now... I want it now!"

She moved her body up, taking the position on top of him. She spread her firm thighs wide, and lowered her torso until she felt the giant cock-head poking at her yawning cunt from below.

She reached down, grabbing the hard prickshaft, and guided it towards the soft channel of her cunt. Slowly it entered, spreading the pliant walls of her twat outward, stretching her almost beyond the level of endurance.

Not happy with the pace, he reached down and grabbed the glistening bulk of her hips. In one swift stab, he pushed her down, driving his hot prick in to the balls.

Her animal scream rang out with its mixture of pain, surprise, and pure erotic insanity. His hips began churning, offering her no respite as the walls of her stretched pussy pulsed around his pistoning rod.

"Why did you push me?" she cried, the words jerking out in short gasps. "You almost split me in half."

"Because I want to feel you now. I want your body impaled on my cock."

His prick filled her cunt totally, driving her wild with its massive bulk. In and out it fucked, in hard, piston-like strokes that sent out rapid sucking pops with each plunge.

Melissa's body swayed back and forth, her tits slapping together loudly as his body rocked her with its thrusts. Her hands clutched desperately, at the corner of the car seat. The knuckles of her balled-up hands were white from the force of her grip as her cunt sucked at his dick, trying to milk the fleshy tool.

He felt his orgasm approaching, and moved swiftly to take her over the brink with him. He pulled her towards him, hunching his body down, and sucked the swollen nipple of her bobbing tit neatly into his mouth. His cheeks collapsed with the suction.

She writhed uncontrollably. His hot mouth seemed to be sucking out the very juices of her cunt, the sensation rising from her groin and flowing out the tender nipple.

"Oh, sweet Jesus!" she screwed. "You're sucking the life out of me! It's pouring out! Shit! God! FUCK!"

Not content, his hand ran down, coming to rest on the raw pebble of her clit as it stroked up and down. His finger now waned feverishly at the slippery bud. It was open, unprotected by the fleshy pink lips that now circled his cock, and vibrated rapidly from his strumming finger.

It was more than she could stand. "Holy fucking shit! It's coming! Oh, God, it's coming, and it's going to bunt like a fucking dam!"

"Let it come!" he cried, his violent thrusting lifting and making her head bump lightly against the car roof. "Flood me with it! Give me all that hot pussy-cream!"

The next few minutes were blind in their fury. Their crotches smashed together, their torsos twisting and pummeling as they worked to stretch the moment out, sustaining it into forever if they could.

A scalding stream of sperm blasted from his cock, gushing into her cunt until she thought it would blow her off his body with its fury. Her own body heaved and jerked as her cum burst over her, sending its steamy cream out to stream down over his ruddy tool.

Finally the pants and groans subsided. She rested motionless, her cheek pressed flat against his chest as he teasingly twitched his still erect cock in her conquered cunt.

"Happy?" he sighed.

"God, yes." She paused a moment to catch her breath. "Are you?"

"Yes, indeed. I... uh... I have a proposition for you."

"What!"

"Well," he said, "it seems you've just paid for all the information you can ever want about dear Mr. Walsh. Now, the way I see it, we have two choices. We can unwrap ourselves and do it now -- or, you can just bring a pencil along tonight and we'll go for seconds now."

"Again!" Her head lifted slowly in amazement of his appetite. "Gee... I don't know," she said playfully. "I think I've paid my price."

"I know, but think of it as sales tax."

"Sales tax?"

She stared a few seconds before a wide grin creased her mouth. "Well, like my daddy always says -- Don't cheat the government, you're only cheating yourself."

CHAPTER FOUR

There are periods in any person's life when the normal setbacks and frustrations of daily events suspend themselves, and a certain magic sets in, making everything you touch turn to gold; not just for one day, but for several days on end. For Melissa the next week was magic.

It began the next day at work. She went in that morning primed to the hilt with Darren's information, and spent the good part of the day knocking out the article.

Murdock was out on assignment, and without the intimidation of his presence, Bob was able to help her freely in grasping the magazine's style. She was just finishing up when Pallbrook walked in, Murdock striding along behind.

"Well. How's our newest member getting along?" Pallbrook said cheerfully.

"Just fine, sir."

"Good. Murdock seemed to think it would be a good idea for me to check out your notes, so I thought I would."

She paused a moment to stare at Murdock. "I'm afraid I don't have any, sir," she said, watching as a smirk climbed across his face. "But I do have the article. Will that do?"

She chuckled inwardly as the smirk collapsed into an open-mouthed gawk of amazement. Murdock stood for several minutes, reading over Pallbrook's shoulder before finally stomping off to his desk to pout. Once Pallbrook had finished reading, he leaned over and whispered into Melissa's ear.

"You got this right from the home's mouth?"

"Well, no," she replied. "The horse was a little feeble, but the trainer was very helpful."

"Meredith?"

Pallbrook's boisterous laugh filled the room as he turned his attention to the other two members. "Mark my words, gentlemen, this young lady is going to put this magazine an the map."

This drew a hearty "hear, hear" from Bob, but only a glaring snort from Murdock as Pallbrook continued.

"I'm telling you! Send her out to get an article, and she brings back enough material for a three-part series. I'll tell you what, Miss Dansin. Why don't you take the week off, and get yourself moved in? You've certainly earned it."

But that was just the beginning. Her week off gave her nothing but free time, and Darren was quick to fill it. He offered to postpone his return to New York to spend the weekend with her, and she agreed, on the condition that he check out of the hotel and stay with her. He readily accepted.

They spent the first two days finding and fixing up her new home. It was a small, furnished second-floor apartment on Oak Street, and she had fallen in love with it on sight. Bob even managed to get Friday off, and helped them search the various shops, delighting equally in each new treasure she found to make the apartment hers.

The rest of the time was Darren's alone. Each day was spent discovering some new part of the city, and each evening some new height of passion and emotion. The feeling between them grew quickly, and firmly, and it came as no surprise to either one when he postponed his return three more days. It was a special time for Melissa, and she was beginning to wish it would never end.

But, like all good things, it had to. It ended the night before her return to work when Darren had to leave.

Bob drove them to the airport, and they said their good-byes quickly, outside the terminal. They had both agreed this would be better than that self-conscious "what do I say, what do I do process" that precedes any boarding.

The ride home was quiet, with Melissa staring pensively out the window. It was Bob who finally broke the silence.

"A little."

"I think you're in love," he said, chuckling.

"Don't be silly," she said. "That just doesn't happen to me. A long time ago, my dear, I had to make a choice between love and career. I chose career."

"Don't be silly, Melissa. There's lots of women who have both. What makes you so special?"

Knowing she could trust him, Melissa confessed her unique approach to journalism to him, diagramming in bold fashion the technique that was her trademark. She also explained how any man she'd ever been with, although seeming to accept it at first, would inevitably destroy the relationship with jealousy and anger.

"Well, don't worry about it," he said. "I firmly believe that for every person, no matter what their particular preference or quirk may be, there's a counterpart in the world to exactly fit them."

"I wish that were true."

"Believe me, it is."

Something in his voice suddenly sparked her curiosity. "Have you found your counterpart?"

He stared at the road mutely for several seconds, weighing the question before answering. "I think we should discuss me some other time. Just trust me. I know what I'm talking about." With this the conversation died, leaving Melissa in a cloud of mystery.

The next week found Melissa in good spirits as she threw herself totally into her work. But as the weeks progressed, and nothing was heard from Darren, she began to sink lower, and lower. Although she never allowed her personal feelings to interfere with the firm execution of her career duties, she drew less and less satisfaction as time went on.

It was not until about a month and a half after Darren left that she finally resolved herself to the fact that she had just been a fun week, and began regaining her cheerfulness and enthusiasm. After this, the memory of Darren was soon forgotten.

It was weeks later, a rather cool day for mid-August, and Melissa was working over an article when Murdock strolled into the room, and over to her desk, plopping himself down on the corner.

"How's it going, hot-shot?" he said.

"Oh... hi, Murdock. Been out killing babies?"

"Cute, sweet-meat, real cute," he said, picking up her coffee to take a sip.

"Murdock, don't drink my coffee."

"Why not?"

"You always curdle the water," she said, smiling sarcastically.

"Look, I didn't come to banter with you. I want to know if you're up for your first really tough assignment."

"Sure!"

"Good," he said, handing her the brief. "Here's all the background. Go to it."

She quickly thumbed through the papers. It was a series of clippings, and a biography on C.J. Claybourne, a.k.a. "The Rocket Man". He was the NFL's newest hot-shot quarterback, in town for a preseason game with the Bean.

"Where do I meet him?" she asked.

"Well, you don't, that's the problem," he snickered, the inevitable gloat on his face. "He's never granted an interview in his life, and never intends to. Good luck."

As usual, he planted his bombshell, and then made his exit, allowing her to stew in private.

She was on her own with this one. Not even Bob could help her. All he knew about Claybourne was that he was always the first one on the field, and the last one off. His only suggestion was that she might be able to corner him alone after practice.

It was on this assumption that she headed out to Soldier's Field, and waited while the team filtered out. Sure enough, she spotted the lone Number Twelve heading for the dressing room, and posted herself by the door, awaiting his exit.

But too much time seemed to pass, and she became worried that he had found some alternative exit. Screwing up her courage, she decided to plunge right in, and entered the private male domain of the locker room.

Once inside, she was greeted instantly with the startling aroma of male musk and well-worn uniforms as she tip-toed down the aisle, searching the tiers of lockers for some sign of C.J. He was nowhere to be found.

"Shit. Just my luck," she cursed.

She turned and started to leave when suddenly the sound of water wound its way through the room. She crept around, peering over the shower-room wall, and glimpsed the solitary figure through the haze of steam. She had found her man.

"Well, there he is. Now, how do I get him?" Quickly an idea formed. Never being one to pass up an opportunity, she turned and availed herself of the nearest locker, stripping off her clothes.

She closed the locker quietly, tip-toed across the cold cement floor and, taking a deep breath for courage, stepped into the uncertainty of the steamy shower.

He was standing there, soaping down his powerful body, and Melissa just stood grinning down at his beautiful cock.

"Hiya, Rocket Man. How's it hanging?"

"My God!" he exclaimed, the soap squirting out of his hands in shock. "You're a..."

"Melissa Dansin from Personalities magazine. Thought I might get an interview."

"Look... you..."

"You dropped your soap," she interjected, bending over to pick it up. She reached down slowly, allowing him the full rear view of her sweet cunt, her beaver hanging like a beard below her puckering asshole.

Carefully she straightened up and turned her eyes riveting on his slowly swelling cock. It was beautiful. The whole length of it gleamed and glided wetly under the shower spray. It grew larger as the combination of her blatant stare and her tongue circling the ruby-red ring of her lips began to have its effect.

"Before we get into the interview," she said, "I thought you might like someone to wash your back."

She walked over to him, her excitement rising at her own boldness. He did not resist when she began rubbing the bar of soap, not over his back, but over his prick, paying particular attention to the tip, making the huge prong grow harder beneath her knowing hands.

His moaning increased, and his body trembled as her soapy hands probed the full length of his cock. Her lips came up, barely touching him, and she ran the hot tip of her tongue slowly over his mouth.

"What's your favorite position, stud?" she whispered.

"The quarterback position," he replied, an mused smile forming on his face.

She we taken aback, stepping away to stare at him, a questioning look on her face. "What the hell is that?"

"I'll show you. Turn around."

She did as she was told. Slowly he widened the spread of her shapely legs, and placed the palm of his hand on her stomach. He pushed her upper body forward until her hands were resting on her knees.

He paused awhile to pull at her delightfully dangling tits before continuing. His fingers milked them like two sagging udders. The pressure of his pulling fingers worked like a lever to release the ever-present bounty of her passion, which flow coursed through her body in tingling waves.

Satisfied that she was on her way, he grabbed the soap and came around behind her. Quickly he lathered up his hands, bent down, and proceeded to wash the springy mound of her cunt.

His hands coursed freely over and through the hairy patch of her crack, and down the insides of her legs. He watched as her pleading cunt-muscles would contract, begging him to enter, forcing the aromatic juices of her twat to stream down her thighs and cut through the soapy lather like tiny snow plows.

"This is the quarterback position?" she said, her voice coming in stops and starts as her cunt-lips puckered in arousal. "I've never seen them doing this."

"We're just warming up a little," he said.

He ran his soapy fingers through the deep, hairy crevice, up between her ass-cheeks, until he hit the tiny crater of her butt-hole. His finger now circled the quivering muscle, depositing a thin coating of lather, before inserting itself into the tight, hot confines of her asshole.

A heady, erotic sensation engulfed her as his digit snaked inside her bowels. Her thrill was enhanced by the novelty of her wide-open position and the unusual surroundings.

But Claybourne was not one to put things off. He stepped back, gently removing his playful finger from her shitter, and paused a moment to appraise the voluptuous beauty of her glistening body.

"I think it's time to begin," he said, quickly stepping up right behind her. "The first thing a quarterback does is get a good position on the center."

With this he firmly placed his hands on her crotch, driving both thumbs up into her soaking cunt. Her legs almost collapsed, and her stomach seemed to drop as the matched thumbs climbed her hot, slippery cunt-channel.

"Yes. Fuck, yes," she moaned. "I understand. Then what... what happens?"

"Next, a split second before the ball is mapped, you give the center a nudge, some particular sign that you're ready for the ball."

Quickly the thumbs withdrew, only to return accompanied by the forefingers of each hand. Together they shot even farther into her squirming cunt. The fingers and thumbs began flexing and moving, prying at her insides, stretching the elastic walls of her box. Her muscles sucked at them, frying to milk all the pleasure she could, flying with each contraction to pull his large hands in behind them.

"Next you take the ball," he said, his middle fingers closing on the small knob of her clit. "And move it around, trying to fake out the defense."

His fingers responded by puffing and tweaking her love-bud as her hips twisted with each caress. Melissa was going crazy. The feel of his hands, the pretense of a football lesson, the curling steam of the shower, all of it, all the sheer novelty of it combined to elevate her to a peak of sexual frenzy.

Nor was he immune to these stimuli. His eyes caressed her body, delighting in the view of her exposed asshole and gaping cunt. Finally it was his own mounting passion that told him the game must soon end.

"And now the last thing you do," he said, pressing his soap-covered prick-head against her asshole, "is to hand the ball off, and let the fullback crash the line."

The second the words were out, his hands shot out of her box and grabbed her hips as his powerful hips rammed forward, piercing the defenses of her tight little shitter.

Her cry rang out loudly, echoing off the tiled walls. His cock surged deeper and deeper as her bucking hips strained to escape his massive bulk.

"Shit! It's killing me!" she cried. "It's... it's... Oh, Goddamnit!"

"Take it, bitch! Take it all the way!" he barked, no longer in a playing mood, his passion breaking over him in one tidal sweep. "You'll love it. It hurts now, but you'll love it."

With one final, ass-smacking lunge, he was in, every inch of his huge cock last in the grip of her warm bowels as her butt-hole stretched to the limit.

"Yes, it's happening," she groaned as the pain became mixed with a rising pleasure. "It hurts like hell, but I love it. You said I would. I do. Fuck me. Fuck me with it!"

"Take it. Take it all, cunt!" he said as he began fucking her asshole with all the strength in his body.

"Don't stop! Do it! Fuck my ass harder! HARDER!"

Claybourne kept driving his powerful, thick tool up into her tightly clenched asshole with hard, long, brutal strokes. His crotch smacked savagely against her butt-cheeks.

Melissa's head flailed from side to side in long ecstatic arcs. She was not only loving, but reveling in his corn-holing cock. She thrust back harder and harder against his pistoning prick. The pleasure/pain of his tearing cock was almost unbearable in its lust.

Claybourne now brought one of his hands down to the top of her tipping cunt, parting the softness of her beaver and gently rubbing her clitoris.

"Fuck, yes!" she shouted. "Get me on both ends! Bring me off with it. Let me feel it front and back!"

He knew his cum was rising. He could feel it climbing the long tubes from his balls as he frantically dug into her cunt with his fingers, trying to make her orgasm happen with his. Wildly he finger-fucked her pussy while pounding her ass in the same rhythm with his prick.

The double action between finger and cock, cunt and ass quickly brought her to the edge of oblivion. She breathed frantically as she felt her climax come closer and closer into being.

"Now! Do it now!" she screamed.

"I am! Oh, fuck! Shit! I'm there! It's coming!" Then with a series of shattering groans, Melissa could feel his long hard cock begin to jerk in convulsions. Before she knew it, he started exploding like a bomb far up into the steaming depths of her bowels.

That was all it took. The hot torrents of cum shooting wildly into her asshole touched off her orgasm, sending her torso into a wild bucking dance as a hot, maddening barrage of pleasure rippled through the entire length of her writhing body.

The convulsions sent both of them dropping to the floor. In the process, his cock pulled out, freeing her to crawl over to the warm wet tiles near the shower, before collapsing.

For several minutes she just lay there, allowing the shower water to circle around her body, her mind in a delightful, post-sexual blank. She nearly dozed off listening to the water as it landed on the hard mosaic of the floor.

"Ooooeee! Hey, Ernie, look here! Rocket Man's gone and found himself a new toy."

The sound of the strange voice made Melissa bolt upright in shock. Her wide-eyed gaze fell on two titans with towels around their waists, and nothing else. She shot a quick glance back to see who was stretched out casually, his hands behind his head, his face grinning up broadly at the two young bulls.

"Melissa," he said. "I'd like you to meet Ernie Teichuk, star fullback, and Randy Mather, star running back. Fellas, Melissa here's with some magazine. She came here to interview me."

"Yeah?" Randy said in his pronounced Southern accent. "You sure look like you been inner-viewed."

Melissa felt just a little uneasy at the lewd chuckles that followed his comment.

The third man finally spoke. "Hey, Randy. You figure she'll interview us, too?"

"I don't rightly know. Hey, Rocket Man, you willing to share your interview with us?"

Claybourne laughed before answering. "Well, hell, Mather, we're a backfield, aren't we? That makes us like family, and families always share."

"Hey, wait a minute!" she yelled.

She paused and stared a moment at the three men. She was beginning to thrill to the idea of taking on three men at once. It was something she had never done before, and she was curious. But the real thrill came when she thought of the look on Murdock's face if she brought in a triple interview. That was all it took to convince her.

She sensed immediately that the biggest thrill for them would be to play hard to get.

"Look. I think I've got something to say about all this. And I say no." She started for the lockers.

Randy instantly pushed her down. "Hey, baby, I'm telling you you're gonna love it. Ernie here's the boy who gave the Longhorns their name. Show her, Ernie."

Ernie dropped his towel to reveal a cock that would indeed put any steer to shame. Melissa's mouth almost watered at the sight, but she fought back the urge. Preferring to keep up her act of resistance, she now took a hard swing at Randy's balls that was calculated only to remove his towel.

He grabbed her instantly in his viselike grip. "Look, sugar, it ain't going to do you no good to fight. I got my start fucking gators in Florida, and you just ain't any match for that."

Suddenly she was on her back as all three men converged. Randy was the first to act. Grabbing her head roughly, he turned it towards him, and put his open mouth against hers. He forced her chin open, and thrust his tongue in deeply. Melissa found it hard to keep fighting as the slippery, hot licker ran along her teeth, then up to poke hard at the roof of her mouth.

Ernie had quickly positioned himself between her outstretched legs. He pulled the limbs wide apart, and placed them over his shoulders, lifting her lower torso into the air. Without wasting a second, he dove into her open gait sucking hungrily at the cream that poured from her yawning slit by the bucketful.

Randy now stopped his kissing, and began moving down, only to be replaced by Claybourne. He squatted over her, pressing his tight, hairy balls into her vacant mouth. She sucked gently, rolling the sensitive jewels an her tongue as he jacked off in an effort to revive his exhausted cock.

Hoping to help him, Melissa now scooted down, grinding her soaking cunt harder into the fullback's licking face. Her tongue shot up, travelling down C.J.'s balls, to lick at the soft bridge of flesh behind them. Her tongue lingered erotically before continuing on to the puckered muscle of his asshole.

By now Randy had found his way to her tit, and was trying to take the whole thing into his mouth. His hot jaw pulled and sucked with so much force that she felt as though her nipples were being pulled out by the roots.

Her own tongue now managed to work its way into Claybourne's asshole, its hard tip piercing and poking the inside of the tiny hole. He shivered as her slick little lapper snaked and twirled, licking at the soft inner wails of his shit-chute.

Ernie now straightened up. Convinced he had gotten all the juice she was able to provide at that moment, he removed her legs from his shoulders and spread them wide. He then placed himself between her moist thighs, and rammed the swollen knob of his gigantic dick against her gaping, helpless hole.

Although she could not see what he was doing, Melissa instinctively braced herself as he drove the full length of his mighty meat into her cunt. It was one sudden, powerful thrust that straightened every limb of her body with its force.

Her mouth flew open, releasing a giant moan as the insane joy of the whole encounter flooded out in one moment.

But no sooner had it ended than her mouth was filled with Claybourne's now erect cock. She sucked it hard, the pleasure in her body mounting to unbelievable heights.

Randy had switched his position to her other tit, and was trying to swallow it with the same fury as he had on the first. Ernie was pounding his cock into her cunt like a man possessed, and C.J. was grinding his hips into her face.

Melissa was in heaven. Her pride swelled almost as high as her sexual ecstasy at the thought of driving three men crazy with her one little body. All four of them were equal partners in the same glorious insanity.

Now, suddenly, the positions changed. They twisted her around until Ernie was under her, his pistoning prick lunging into her sopping cunt from below. Claybourne moved up on his knees, taking advantage of the new position to ram his cock even farther down her willing, hungry throat.

Now it was Randy's turn. He moved around behind, and pressed his hard prick against her shitter. Melissa was suddenly grateful for her earlier session. Her asshole being already lubricated with cum, Randy had merely to give a quick push, and he was in, sliding his giant prick-shaft up her cooperating ass hole.

Never in her life had Melissa felt so helpless, and at the same time so strong. She was helplessly impaled on three massive pricks, and at the same time it was in her power to bring three men off at once. She was determined to do just that.

The two men at her crotch were varying their rhythm. First Ernie drove in while Randy withdrew, then they reversed. Melissa shivered from the tickling sensation of both cocks touching through the thin partition of flesh that separated them. It was incredible. No orgasm in her life had ever risen so slowly, so filled with promise.

Now with their own climaxes coming, all three began to rut in unison, their grunts of exertion coming together, as Melissa's own orgasm came near.

It was Ernie who went first. His hot cum blasted into her cunt, his shakes and quivers only serving to set the others off in rapid succession. The four of them were one mass of quivering flesh as each man poured his boiling wad into her, her own body bucking and sucking to satisfy the enormous explosion of her own climax.

It was over quickly, each man finally rolling off in turn. As she lay there, three sets of hands rose to caress her submissively, filling her with a sense of victory.

It was going to be one hell of an article.

CHAPTER FIVE

The next six months flew quickly for Melissa, and her reputation as a reporter grew constantly. It seemed like every clay that Pallbrook would receive a phone call, either from someone she had interviewed, or some friend of theirs, requesting that all dealings with the magazine be through Melissa only.

But, it was not just the ones interviewed; the public, too, responded, flooding the office with piles of letters praising the content and pure entertainment of her articles. Her success was complete.

The passing time also brought about changes in her relationships with Bob and Murdock. With Bob feelings only deepened, drawing them closer than ever. He became the brother she never had, and they shared everything, with one exception. Sex.

In the physical sense, they both agreed the friendship was stronger without it. What bothered Melissa was, he would never even discuss it. It was like some secret, some large part of himself that he refused to share with her. He would listen while she talked about it, even adding bits of opinion and abstract knowledge, but he would never be specific in terms of his own sex life. She accepted it, however, preferring not to let it mar the good things they felt for one another.

Murdock was a different story. What had once been only dislike, fanned into hatred as her success aroused in him a new element of fear. He became obsessed with the idea that he could possibly lose his job, and searched for ways to sabotage her seemingly unstoppable momentum.

There was something else about him, too. It had started in him as a suspicion, and day by day built until it was now a maddening certainty. She had only to look in his eyes to understand that he now knew, knew her secret, knew the sexual fountain from which she drew so much information.

It was with this same knowing look that he approached her desk, one day in late February.

"I just want you to know, I've got it figured out, wonder woman," he sneered. "I've finally got your glorious technique figured out."

All of a sudden Melissa felt sorry for him. So what! What could he do? Tell Pallbrook? He knew. Start a scandal? Nope. No proof. She indeed pitied him as she watched him place the brief before her.

"New assignment," he said. "A millionaire recluse. Never sees anybody. Of course I know that doesn't matter; you'll find some flunky to get you in, but in you'll have to get. The closest secretary doesn't know shit. You're going to have to see the top banana personally. Open it up."

As she did, she quickly realized the direction his knowing would take her in, and every ounce of pity drained from her heart.

"That's right, Melissa my dear. Glenda Belson. She's blown into town to exhibit her precious art collection at the Institute, and I think it's only right to put our star reporter on the jab."

"Thanks, Murdock. I appreciate the compliment, left-handed or not."

"That's okay, kid, because this is a woman, the female of the species, and if you do as well on this job as I think you're going to, there'll be plenty more women to see from now on."

As she climbed the snow-covered steps of the Art Institute, Melissa was not really worried by the threat. She knew Pallbrook would never allow it. What consumed her was the challenge. She had to beat Murdock; she couldn't allow him to have even the slightest victory over her.

Once inside, she proceeded immediately to the Morton wing where the exhibit was being put up. She weaved her way through the carpenters and workers, looking for her flunky, someone to serve as the key to Glenda Belson's door.

She was about to give up when she heard a familiar voice.

"Melissa Dansin? Well, you can put these faggot bones to bed, I've seen it all!"

As she turned to see who it was, she was greeted by the sight of a slender figure in wide flare bell-bottoms, a bright floral print shirt covered by a velvet Edwardian coat, and topped by a long knit scarf that circled his throat once, leaving the ends to hang down to his knees. It was not until he started walking towards her in his long, over graceful strides, his arms outstretched flamboyantly, that she recognized him.

"My God! Duane St. James!" she cried, wrapping him in a big hug. "I don't believe it. You look great."

"God love you, I feel like the last chapter of what's the use."

"What're you doing here? You still painting?"

"No, thank God. Once I realized that I couldn't get hired to paint the primer coat on a picket fence, I quit. The whole great-painter routine was my mother's idea anyway."

"Is she here with you?"

"The witch of Endor?" he groaned in exaggerated display. "Noooo! She's still in Omaha devouring peasants. I finally found the courage, and minced my way to New York. You're looking at a respected gallery owner."

"Really?" she laughed. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, honey! I'm an international figure. I mean I can recognize great art, even if I can't produce it. I get invited to all the parties, and meet all the people that wouldn't touch me as an artist. I'm even personal director for the Belson collection."

"You know Belson?" she cried, her body jerking into alertness at the name.

"Know her! Sugar, I may have escaped Mummy's apron strings in Omaha, but I need that influence. So, I just jumped onto the Belson express. I'm her adopted son."

She clutched his arm. "Duane, I need to interview her. Can you get me in?"

"Consider it done, dumpling. You meet me out by the lobby, and I'll make the phone call."

As she walked to the lobby, she felt something gnawing at her, something Duane had said. Mother, something about his mother.

"Oh, my God... Bob!"

Suddenly it hit her. Bob lived with his mother. So, that was it. He was gay. That was why he would never discus his sex life.

She was relieved by the sudden insight. She had always felt slightly hurt that he did not trust her enough to tell her, but at least now she knew. Maybe she could relax him enough to drop the block between them.

Her relief was doubled when Duane returned to announce that Glenda would be to see her in her Palmer House suite to in two hours. To kill time they walked to one of the nearby bars and ordered cocktails.

"Here's to Melissa," he said. "My only experiment in heterosexuality."

Her memory of the incident quickly flowed up. They had met at an Omaha art show. They developed an instant friendship, and Melissa was treated to a whirlwind tour of the gay scene in town.

It was on one such bar-hopping evening that Duane came up to Melissa's apartment. Between her desire to change him and his curiosity, they finally found themselves rolling on the floor in naked embrace. Melissa did most of the work, but she never minded.

Things went slowly at first, his body unwilling to respond to her female approaches. It was not until she took on a sort of maternal attitude that his cock shot up in firm, erect passion.

She sucked hard at the swollen rod, shouting her matronly orders between large gulps of his throbbing shaft. Her fingers played lightly over his balls. She rubbed the swollen tastes, coaxing his prick to its full size before continuing down to enter the delightful channel of his asshole.

She worked hard to produce the sensations most familiar to him, and his body snaked in delight as her tongue rode up and down his firm cock, her fingers pounding their lust into his grinding asshole.

Once he was thoroughly primed, she climbed over his body and absorbed the full length of his prick-pole into her tightly gripping asshole. She pounded his body with her hips, cajoling him in her motherly fashion to suck her tits.

It all worked. The vision of his mother swam behind his closed eyes as he tore at her bobbing tits, his mouth sucking furiously at the firm standing nipples, his hands groping and clutching at the soft clitoral patch of her cunt.

They both came in one large, violent explosion. Her butt-muscle sucked at his bursting cock, milking the giant tool as its cum blew into her bowels in gallons. Her own juices flooded out to coat his trembling hand, and inundate his belly with its bursting release.

It was a fond memory for Melissa, one of many they discussed in their two hours at the bar. By the time they left to meet Glenda Belson, Melissa was sailing on a cloud of good feeling, and martinis.

The suite was big, rich and beautiful, but so was Glenda Belson. She was about forty, with large full tits that matched Melissa's in size and firmness. Her hair was red, and piled stylishly on her head. It all served to cap a proud, dignified face that was really quite sensual.

"So, you'd like an interview?" she said, drinking in Melissa's body with her eyes, appraising her in a manlike fashion.

"Yes, ma'am," she replied.

"Duane darling, why don't you go about your duties while Miss Dansin and I get better acquainted?"

"Yes, love," he said. As he turned to go, he gave Melissa's arm a tight squeeze and whispered, "My turn to teach you something. Just swing with it, darling. You'll love it." And he left.

Melissa was not exactly sure of his meaning, but the older woman's searching looks had given her some idea. She took up a position at one end of the sumptuous sofa, and Glenda seated herself at the other. Carefully, she drew her legs up under her body, the slit in her long robe parting to reveal the soft whiteness of her full, fleshy thighs.

The conversation began with small talk that yielded little information. It only served to generate strange quivers in Melissa's body as the older woman kept shifting her position, giving her more and more looks at the exposed flanks of her firm, womanly body.

"You're aware, of course, that I rarely interview?" she said, her body edging ever closer to Melissa.

"I know, and I really appreciate it."

"Do you? How much?" Casually she reached over, and placed her hand under Melissa's tit. She held it a moment, bouncing the pendulous globe in her hand as if to test its weight.

For once Melissa was caught by surprise. She cursed Duane for not having prepared her as her mind jumped between revulsion and sexual excitement. She might even have left had the thought of fucking up another of Murdock's schemes not suddenly pushed her past any resistance to this new experience.

"It's hard to say. Perhaps I can show you how much."

With this assurance, Glenda quickly rose and threw open her robe. The garment slithered from her mature, shapely body to fall in a pile at her ankles. With a quick kick she flipped it across the room, and sat back down beside Melissa.

"Melissa, am I beautiful to you?" she asked, spreading her thighs to give Melissa a better look at the thin, smooth slit, barely hidden by the band of her panties.

"Yes, you are beautiful. Very beautiful."

Melissa could see the thrill in the woman's eyes as Glenda lifted the soft, bulging mounds of her butt-cheeks from the sofa. Gripping the fabric with her fingers, she slowly and provocatively peeled her panties down over her fleshy thighs. Her legs lifted high in the air, exposing her busy red beaver as the garment cleared the final barrier of her delicate foot, and landed behind the sofa.

She then inched in back of herself, and unhooked her bra. She pulled the cups away, freeing the enormous globes of her mature tits. Without support they sagged only slightly, the twin dark circles of her nipples standing out proudly from their jutting peaks.

Melissa's hands began wandering over her own jugs sympathetically as she saw the older woman wet the tip of a finger and rub it lovingly around the taut pinnacles of her large, full tits, recoiling sensually from her own touch.

Melissa now looked down between Glenda's parted thighs. She felt as though she should be ashamed for gazing so openly at her wanton cunt, but instead of shame, she felt a feeling of warmth and desire. An odd, gnawing passion was beginning to overtake her.

Glenda could sense the turmoil, and knew that the younger girl liked what she saw. She responded with a wider spread to her legs that left an unobstructed view of her heated, trembling cunt-lips.

The inner walls of her pink snatch were now completely open to Melissa's eager eyes. There was a thin line of moisture along the rim of her parted gash, a narrow trail of warm pussy juice flowing along the puffy furrow of the woman's cunt.

"It's beautiful. I've never had it before, and I want it," Melissa said, almost hating to admit that looking up the woman's juicy pussy was turning her on like nothing had before.

The joy spread across Glenda's face. The moist tip of her tongue sneaked out to wet the slightly parted lips, rolling slowly back and forth as the tempo of her breathing now increased.

"Do you want me to eat you?" she asked, her tongue working to tempt the girl. "Do you want to feel my tongue in your cunt? Tasting you, sucking you, eating you?"

"Yes... I think... Yes, I do. Yes!" Melissa cried. The passion of Glenda's wards, and the boldness of her gesture combined to trigger the flow of hot juices into her slit.

The older woman quickly rose to her knees and removed Melissa's dress. She tossed it aside, and stared wide-eyed at the braless perfection of Melissa's vulnerable boobs. Her body was overwhelmed with an insane lust and need as the sight of the young girl's proudly erect nipples stood like a vision before her.

"My God! I've never seen anything so beautiful," she gasped, her hands reaching to touch them. The expert fingers moved haltingly, almost unbelieving, and closed their grasp around the perfect jugs. She applied just the right amount of kneading pressure, her firm caress bringing groans of pleasure from Melissa's throat.

It was obvious to Melissa that this woman knew all there was to know about pleasing another woman, and she willingly responded as their lips met in a tender kiss. The pressure was gentle, the tongue probing sensually, circling the wet, warm chasm of her mouth in long sweeping arcs.

Glenda's hands were working, too. One hand continued rolling her nipple with steady twists of her thumb and forefinger while the other traveled her body. The roving hand glided lightly over every twist and indentation of her flesh, sending chill after chili rippling through her, before finally coming to rest in the soaking valley of her cunt.

Melissa was going crazy with delight. This woman was overwhelming her with her approach, so totally new, so totally feminine, so full of the tenderness and stimulation that only a woman could give another woman.

"Take me, Glenda," she whispered. "Teach me! Show me how to make love to you. Show me how a woman makes love to a woman."

"I will. I'll show you. It'll be wonderful for you. I'll show you parts of you no man knows about."

Melissa succumbed to the delirium of her releasing sexual passion. She tore the panties from her body, and stretched out on her back, opening the way for Glenda's fingers to trail the length of her dripping pink slit from clitoris to asshole.

Up and down the hand went, long nails softly scratching at the groping hairy walls as they gaped open. Jolts of passion coursed through Melissa's body as the knowing fingers would skim along, tickling the tiny hairs of her bunt, and then on to prod the pleading bulge of her love-button.

Glenda's head now moved over her heaving jugs, her tongue circling the underside of the barely flattened melons, and then climbing the soft curve to lick at the straining posts of her nipples.

Suddenly Melissa felt the lips of her tender pussy being pried skillfully apart. She groaned aloud as the hot tongue started downward, pulling across her belly, warming every inch of her flesh before landing in the hairy mound of her cunt.

"Is it good, my dear? Is my tongue good in your pussy?"

"Yes, Glenda. Give it to me. Taste me! Suck me!"

Two fingers entered her cunt and massaged the slick inner walls, only to be replaced by the woman's tongue. Melissa's muscles throbbed as the wet licker went foraging in and out of her hungry slit like a man's hard cock.

Her head rolled back and forth with the mounting gyrations of her body. Glenda's fingers were pressing frantically against the slippery bud of her clit, her tongue pounding the inner walls of her twat.

"Shit, yes!" she chanted, thrusting her cunt up to the woman's eager lips. "Fuck me, Glenda! Suck me dry! Tongue-fuck me till I can't take any more! Harder! Now... yes! FASTER!"

She reached down, and gapped the woman's hair, pulling her wet face into the soaking mass of her cunt. Urgently, she thrust her pussy upward with her hips, telling Glenda by her actions that she wanted her to take more of her cunt, wanted her whole face inside her snatch.

The young girl's legs were spread as wide as they would go, her hips bucking frantically as the searing heat of her orgasm began running out from her churning thighs. On and on Glenda's tongue ran, digging, scooping, thrilling to the tangy taste of her cunt-sauce.

And then it came.

It exploded like a volcano, soaring through every pore in the heated inner walls of her pussy. Her body jerked wildly as Glenda moved her tongue up to flick unceasingly at the hard knob of her clit.

There was nothing quick about it. It seemed to hang forever, the older woman holding her right on the peak of passion, causing unending eruptions to spill load after load of cunt juice from her steaming gash.

"Oh, God! It's too good to be true!" Melissa cried. "It's never going to stop! Oh, shit! GODDDDD!"

And still it came.

Melissa was bathing in the glorious insanity of her passion. Filled with the thrill of cunt-lust, she swung herself up and around the sofa until her face was poised above Glenda's soaking thighs, her hard breath blowing at the tiny pussy hairs.

"Yes, darling," the woman urged, "taste it. You'll love the sweet taste of pussy. Take it in your mouth. Eat me."

Melissa buried her head between the woman's quivering thighs. The cunt opened wide to receive the girl's anxious tongue as she jammed it between the pulpy labes and started sucking for all she was worth.

Melissa inhaled the new combination of odors inside the seething snatch, her tongue savoring the new taste. Each sense seemed to heighten to this new form of lovemaking, taking her beyond any passion she had ever known.

"I want it to be good for you," she moaned, her tongue driving wildly to scoop the thick juices into her mouth. "I want to make you cum like you made me. I want to suck you better than you've ever had it."

"You are. You're doing it," Glenda replied. "Just lick the hell out of me. Suck the shit out of my lovely pussy."

Melissa's fingers worked to stretch the pulsing walls of Glenda's box. Her tongue flew cock-like in and out of her gushing hole, its hard tip tracing a patch from her clit to her asshole.

The total penetration of the cock-tongue into her pussy drove Glenda wild. Her legs were straining wide, her hands helping to raise the soft mass of her hips higher, causing her twat to sag open even wider.

Melissa drove into the opening, sloshing her head from side to side inside the redhead's pussy. Her cunt poured its streaming juices across Melissa's cheeks and chin, only adding to her maddening ecstasy.

On and on her tongue rammed, her chin nuzzling the soft crater of her bung, and her nose raking across the throbbing clit as she buried her face into her churning cunt.

The older woman's hips became pistons as she felt the gushes of her climax start to pour from her sucking split.

"It's coming, honey! Don't stop! Make it explode on me! Lick me harder! HARDER!"

Melissa could taste the bitter-sweet cum seeping into the hot cavern, and she devoured the fuck-juice in huge gulps. Her hands clamped on the woman's firm butt-cheeks, driving her face in even harder to bring her off.

"OH, GOD! I'm blowing! It's running through me like a fucking tidal wave! OH, GOD! SHIT! FUUUUUCK!"

Glenda screamed, her body arching as she exploded in the ecstasy of total, throbbing release. The flood gates opened, pouring out her sticky cream as Melissa sucked and swallowed the cum as quickly as it ran down.

At last when the heaving body beneath her started to case, Melissa raised her head from the soggy cunt-mound. She looked up between the heaving globes of Glenda's tits, and smiled.

"Now that's what I call an enlightening interview," she sighed.

The older woman returned the look through heavy-lidded eyes, the very same satisfied smile bending her lips.

"Honey, I've got a list of women a mile long who'd give their left tit for an interview like this." She reached down and patted Melissa's cheek. "And I can't think of anyone who would put it to better use."

"Murdock, you're fucked," Melissa chuckled to herself. She knew nothing could stop her now.

CHAPTER SIX

"Let me propose a toast," Bob bellowed, his paper cup held high. "To Melissa Dansin, in celebration of one year of brilliant service at Personalities magazine."

"Hear, hear!" she cried, and banged his cup with her own.

The two figures paused to chug the cold duck in one long swig, laughing as it bubbled up to run down the sides of Melissa's face.

Melissa was happy. Bob had completely surprised her with his celebration, it was a gorgeous May afternoon, and she was beginning to feel, the effects of the alcohol. She just could not seem to stop giggling, and of course Bob was no help.

Not even the appearance of Murdock could dampen her good spirits. "Hi, Ralphie, join the party."

But there was something different, almost frightening about him as he approached Melissa.

"Pallbrook wants to see you," he said, his voice totally flat.

The complete lack of any emotion in Murdock's tone haunted Melissa as she walked the corridors and entered Pallbrook's office.

"Hello, Miss Dansin. Sit down," he beamed. "Hello, sir. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. I have good news for you, so I won't waste any words. The board has decided that it would be a pretty good idea to make you head supervisor of the Special Assignments Division, so they have."

For several seconds she just stared, her mouth open in disbelief.

"Well, you want it?" he chuckled.

"What about. Murdock?"

"Well, we offered him another position, but he refused it. To be blunt, he said he'd rather quit than be pushed out by a woman."

"I see." Suddenly she jumped up. "Thank the board. I accept. I know I should say something, but please excuse me -- I want to try to catch Murdock."

She bolted front the office and ran back to her desk. As she entered the room, Bob was standing in complete confusion.

"Where's Murdock?" she asked.

"Gone. He just packed up his desk and split. What the hell is going on?"

Melissa explained the sudden turn of events to Bob as he listened intently. Once she had finished, he bunt into excited laughter.

"God damn! That's great! You're going to be my boss. Look, this calls for a real celebration. Why don't you come over tonight and have dinner with Mom and me? I've wanted you to meet her anyway."

"Okay," she said, her whole body lighting up with Bob's enthusiasm. "It sounds like fun."

She arrived at Bob's near North Side apartment around seven o'clock. He met her at the door, and escorted her into a small, neat, one-bedroom flat.

Bob's mother, Anita, came out from the kitchen to greet her. Melissa was shocked by her first view of the woman. She was forty-one years old, but looked like she was thirty-one. She possessed a beautiful, very earthy face, topped with long, free-hanging black hair.

Everyone hit it off very well, and the evening got off to a good start as congratulatory drinks were passed around. The mood built quickly, and Melissa was soon basking in the warm glow of success, friendship, and good wine.

Throughout the dinner, Melissa kept marveling at Bob's mother. She kept wondering what it was in their relationship that could possibly have produced a gay son. Anita did not seem to possess any of that domineering, manipulative quality that Duane's mother had. She was quite the opposite, very free-spirited, and seemed to have a respectful, deep friendship with Bob.

But Melissa had more surprises coming. After diner Anita proved to be even more startling. She was totally modern in her beliefs, a nudist, a proponent of free love, and finally Melissa was to learn, a dope-smoker.

"Just a little something to relax us, and help us get to know each other better," she said, passing the joint around for each one to inhale.

For a while they laughed and joked, until finally the soft euphoric mist of the marijuana settled over them. The room grew silent. Now all that was heard was the soft, sensual strains of jazz filling the room. Between the drinks, the grass, and the music, Melissa began to feel a growing awareness of her body as she swayed rhythmically to the mellow jazz sounds. Apparently she was not the only one because Anita was the first to break the silence.

"Melissa, would you mind if I undressed?"

"Mother!" Bob cried.

"Bob, I don't think shell mind," she said, her hand stroking her son's hair. "You see, Melissa, we usually walk around naked. We really only dress for company, but I feel a closeness with you. Do you mind?"

Melissa quickly adjusted from the initial shock, and began to like the idea. "No. Why don't we all do it?"

"Melissa, are you sure that..." but Bob never got to finish.

Both ladies were up and naked in seconds, with him soon joining.

Melissa was once again amazed as she took in the pure sexual magnificence of Anita's body. Her stomach was flat and firm, with only a few stretch marks to announce her as a mother. She had full, flaring hips, and a pair of firmly hanging, sensuous tits that were beautifully veined and rounded under her large nipples.

For a while longer Melissa sat absorbing the music, but somehow being there naked with two other people filled her with a feeling of freedom and openness. The mood washed over her until she finally developed the courage to talk to Bob about his secret. She was certain his naked body could hide nothing from her.

"Bob, I just want you to know that I know what you've been hiding from."

"What do you mean?" he said, a slight look of discomfort creeping over his face.

"I mean your sex life. I know what it is you're into, and I want you to know I don't care."

Bob and Anita quickly exchanged looks. "How did you find out?" he asked, unable to hide his shock.

"I was with another gay friend of mine a few months ago, and... I don't know... I just sort of figured it out."

"Another gay. You mean you think..."

Suddenly both of them were rolling in laughter that took several minutes to, subside. That was all the time it took for the mood of the room to radically change.

"Shall we tell her, Bob?" Anita asked, her eyes now glowing with a fire that the secret had somehow sparked. "Shall we tell your friend what you're hiding?"

"I don't know," he replied, his eyes returning the glow. "What do you think?"

"I think we should show her." Anita's hand now began working over her stomach in soft circles, the ends of her fingers rubbing gently across the firm whiteness of her belly.

"Mom, please. Let's just tell her."

But Anita was not listening. She was being motivated by some force that seemed too great for her to control. Her hands were moving across her breasts, cupping the giant tits, crushing them together and then separating, inhaling deeply as the large jugs dropped proudly to her raised chest. Her breaths were coming longer, and deeper.

"No, Bob -- let's show hers," she said, rising from the couch. "We'll have to or she'll never believe us."

Anita now moved to him, holding her tits before her like two purple-tipped globes. She squeezed them again in her hands, forcing the hard nipples to stand out like two tiny spikes. Slowly she pulled her son's face into them, weaving them from side to side to give him the hill feeling of their tremendous size and weight.

"Please show her, Bob. Show her the secret of your sex life."

"Mother, I just don't think..."

She pushed due of the large globes into his mouth, its bulk flattening when his mouth pressed down on the nipple. She snugged closer to him on the floor as he sucked loudly at the massive offering.

Melissa sat staring, not entirely sure of what their actions meant. She could see Anita's pussy hotly secreting juices, her butt squirming sensually on the floor.

"Don't worry, Bobby," she mewed, her half-lidded eyes probing into his. "She's your friend. She won't mind. She cares for you."

She spread her thighs open, and moved them around to circle his. She took his unsure hand, sliding it over her belly, and placed it on the soft mound of her cunt.

The touch of his hand made her quiver with delight. She pressed it hard into her trembling twat.

"Oh, Son, that's so good. I love you touching me there. I love the feel of your hand on my pussy."

She began to revolve her cunt over the firm heel of his hand, rolling it over her rigid clitoris in tantalizing lift le circles that made her breath come faster and faster. Her entire frame trembled as the frenzy of desire grew in her aching body.

Bob's reluctance faded. His groin was beginning to burn with the feel of his mother's flesh. His cock had climbed to its full size, and was jerking in response to her firm manipulations.

Suddenly Melissa understood. His secret was not homosexuality, it was incest. She rebelled momentarily. She felt what she was watching was wrong, but her mind was too lost in the moment to form any course of action.

She was also surrendering to the stimulation, the thrill that watching something forbidden brings. She stared spellbound as Anita brought her mouth to Bob's, her lips open wide. A fiery passion seemed to course through him at the contact of his mother's nibbling mouth.

He began to tremble. Her cunt under his hand seemed like a burning glove. Her hot, wet tongue flashed into his mouth, meeting his own tongue in a swirling embrace.

Bob's cock pulsed with desire, his balls aching as her hand went down to one knee. The extreme pleasure radiated from him as Anita's hand rose higher and higher on his willing thigh.

Melissa was captured by the scene. Anita's every move seemed to her to be filled with a special touch -- a mothers touch -- totally different from any lover. She could almost feel it as the woman's hands ran frantically over her son's body, kneading and molding the taut thighs. Bob's tongue was now thrust deeply into her open mouth, bringing large moans as the saliva merged in both their mouths. By now Bob was totally lost in the enchantment of his mother's hot passion. Any reluctance had vanished as both partners lost all awareness of their gazing quest.

Melissa could see the love he possessed, the adoration, even worship, of the woman who had given him life. His arms tightened convulsively around his mother, the all-consuming desire of his driving emotion spiraling hotly through his being.

"Touch me," Anita begged. "Smother me in your love. I want to feel you in my cunt again. Fill me with the body of my own creation."

Bob's hand now roamed at will over the resilient bulk of his mother's flesh. They held tightly, his hand resting on the pressed cushion of her tit. He pinched the nipples into full, hard erection as his tongue fused with hers in a wild, hot kiss that burned with lusting desire.

His mother's eager hand moved up his thigh, and found its way between his legs to the aching bulge of his cock. She began running her hand up and down the firm tool in gentle, but demanding strokes, sweeping down to caress the quivering sac of his balls.

Bob was overwhelmed with the total passion of his mother's touch. Agonizing animal groans of need and pleasure poured from his heaving chest.

"Oh, Bob, it's so big!" she cried, her thumb squeezing the bloated cock-head with thrilling lust.

"It's so damn big, and I love it. I love you. I want to kiss your cock, and handle it like I did when you were a baby."

"Yes, I want you to. Please... yes. Take it in your mouth! SUCK MY COCK!"

By now Melissa was sensing her own sexual hunger. She felt a twisting pain of need spread from her abdomen up to her passion-swollen tits. Her breathing became labored as her hand worked its way down to her seething cunt, and began pushing, her ass-cheeks squirming at the thrill of her own fingers.

Bob continued massaging his mother's jugs, and showered hot kisses into her hair and neck as her head slowly lowered on his body. Her tongue dragged down in slow sweeps that covered his chest and stomach in a glistening trail of saliva.

Her right hand grabbed the tip of his rock-hard prick while she worked across the soft underbelly with the nails of her left hand. Up and down she went, the soft tickling of her hands treating him to wave after wave of erotic sensation.

Satisfied with his groans of tormented bliss, she lowered her hand to caress the sperm-bloated young balls. Her passion-hazed eyes stared down lovingly at the huge palpitating shaft of her son's cock. The quivering head glinted wetly from the tiny ooze of pre-cum seeping from its point.

Anita panted with hot excitement as she moved her head downward. Lower and lower she went, until her face was only an inch above the head of Bob's jerking cock. She opened her mouth, allowing the tip of her tongue to almost touch the head of the rigid shaft.

Bob went crazy when he saw his mother's beautiful face so close to his horny prick.

"Now... Oh, God... now! Suck it! SUCK IT!" he yelled, and shoved upward with his hips.

His prick slid sharply between the moist lips, her tongue closing in to gently massage the rubbery tip of his cock-head. She gratefully sucked the bittersweet tang of his trickling pre-cum.

"Yes!" she cried in total bliss. "It's good. God, your cum tastes so sweet, so good. Your cock is so firm and lovely to suck."

She swirled her tongue around and around the tiny cum-slit, lapping up all the juices he could secrete. He groaned his reply, his fingers knotting into her dark hair as the electric shock of her moist, hot tongue threatened to bring his balls to instant explosion. He thrust upward again and again, ramming the length of his huge dick over her tongue and down the soft inner flesh of her throat.

Her mouth stroked faster over the ridge of his shaft, one hand clasping the base of his cock and pumping it in short, quick, rising squeezes. Her other hand weaved frantically, the long fingernails flailing through the tiny hairs of his aching ball-sac.

Across the room Melissa was getting hotter with each passing second. The whole shock of the incestuous pleasure before her had vanished. Her hand was working feverishly at the sopping gash of her cunt.

She was so lost in the whole spirit of incest that images of her father's naked body were streaming through her mind. She was filled with the burning curiosity to taste her father's cock, to blow him like Anita was blowing Bob, to taste his parental love in the free, expansive expression of sex.

She was also not immune to the pure lusting sensation of the view before her. Her session with Glenda Belson had turned her on to women, and she watched hungrily as the juices from the overflowing bounty of Anita's cunt slithered down her thighs. Her feelings for Bob also ran rampant as she witched the glorious might of his cock disappear into Anita's wanton mouth.

It was all she could to keep from joining in. She groaned with insane lust as she pushed all four fingers of her hand into her steaming box. When the swelling sensation of her full pussy vibrated through her body, she pulled down with her thumb, grasping at the swollen button of her clit.

Her body trembled, its passion being swept along by the cries and moans of the lovemaking duo before her.

Anita had settled into a rhythm, sucking up and down on her son's hard prick. With each stroke she would take all of his pulsing cock into her hot, sucking throat, then alternate on her upswing to work demonically on the tight bulb of his prick-head.

With the tiny point of her tongue she would part the opening of his fiery rod, widening it, sucking more of the dripping juice into her mouth.

The pure bliss of this movement would arch Bob's body, driving his hips up to thrust his cock even deeper into the channel of her hungry gullet. He was nearly screaming in agonized pleasure as he tore at his mother's swaying tits, his hand grabbing mindlessly at the dangling mounds.

Anita's own hand was now working at her cunt, pulling the soft flesh, working to make herself cum with him. She lodged the hard knuckles of her fist into her dripping crack, and clamped her legs hard over it. She rubbed rhythmically with her churning thighs, her knuckles dragging and battering her quivering clit.

The feel of her hand in her own box drove Anita to even greater heights. She sucked even more wildly at his cock, her head coming down even harder into his lap as her legs worked against the hard knuckles.

Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, blanking out all awareness from her mind, but the feel of her son's rampaging prick. Her head, bobbed up and down at frenzied speed. She swallowed all of his cock, its massive length thumping into the far reaches of her throat spiraling her ever upward in her intensity.

Her lips and nose pressed against the wiry bristles of her son's crotch hairs with each downstroke. Her nostrils inhaled the masculine odor of his musky genitals, urging her on to even greater speed.

Melissa looked on, her mind a passionate blank as the scene before her carried her over the brink of sanity. She was more than just an observer, she was a participant, responding in complete empathy to the two writhing figures. She was like three different people.

Her right hand was with Anita, tearing at her own cunt, her body moving in exact imitation of the woman's passionate bucking. Her groans poured out to mingle with the woman's as she felt the same building explosion of her nearing orgasm.

Her left hand was with Bob, pulling at her nipples, tearing at the jerking mounds of tit-flesh, crushing them in fierce attack as the waves of delight soared from her crotch to sweep over her in all-consuming waves.

The rest was Melissa, lost in the insane pleasure of the whole experience as it bombarded all her senses.

"Oh, shit, I've got to come!" Bob screamed. "I can't go any longer, Mother! It feels too good, I can't hold it off any longer!"

"Please come! COME! Fill me with it! Pour your sweet juice into me, and let me swallow it! Let me taste your beautiful, wonderful cream! Warm my belly with it."

"Yes, it's here... it's... it's SSSHHIIIIIIIIT!"

Suddenly he was there. He jammed his hips upward, burying his cock deep in his mom's clasping throat. She screamed out her joy in one long animal cry as the first hot spurts of jizz shot from the pulsing hole in his hotly flared cock-head. His sperm spewed out to inundate her sucking mouth, geysering madly from his jerking body to sweetly fill her.

Her throat tightened and loosened as inexhaustible torrents of his burning, salty fuck-juice gushed over her swallowing tongue. She gulped desperately to keep from choking on the hot cream. Her cheeks bloated and hollowed again as the spunk streamed like a miniature river down into her belly.

Anita's own orgasm came next. She gurgled and squealed around the spurting rod, still swallowing his never-ending flow of cum. The wild rapturous release surged through her, causing her to suck even harder at Bob's spitting cock as she reached a height so dizzying it threatened to rob her of her consciousness.

And Melissa was right there with them. Her own orgasm was brought on by the powerful friction she had been applying to her cunt, and the sight of their twisting bodies screaming out the insane bliss of their climaxes. Her head swam as the blasting heat poured over her, flaming out through every sweating pare in her body, bringing to her the full culmination of her wanton watching of their incestuous love.

Slowly the three pulsing bodies came to rest. Anita slowly lifted her head from her son's gradually withering cock. She let the tool slide wetly and loudly from her smiling, satisfied lips.

"Bob," she sighed, "I love you so much. I'd do anything to make you happy. Are you satisfied? Was it good for you?"

"Yes, perfect." And the room fell into silence.

All three of them lay spent and happy on the living-room floor, unable to do anything after experiencing such total, blissful release. It was several minutes before Bob could find the strength to speak.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Well, I guess now you know," Bob said. "What do you think?"

"I think it's beautiful," Melissa answered. "I'm glad you decided to let me know, and I'd like to share it with you. With both of you."

Bob's cock twitched, rising to an instant hard-on as Melissa began crawling towards him.

"You mean you want to fuck me?"

"Yes, both of you. I masturbated the whole time I was watching. Now, I want to feel it, feel both of you fucking into me."

Suddenly Melissa was beside him on the floor. Her searching hands were all over the young man's body, trailing over every inch of his youthful firmness.

"I want you. I want to fuck you, both of you. I need your beautiful cock up my cunt while I eat Anita. I've got to have you both at the same time."

She wriggled her thirsting body over Bob's thighs, trembling as his cock settled into the bushy patch of her pussy hair. With one hand she reached down and grabbed the taut hardness of his prick. With the other, she caressed the warm, hairy gash of her cunt.

With two fingers she parted the hair-lined lips of her pussy, the matted walls spreading wider and wider. She then placed his throbbing cock-head into the sensitive pink furrow, pressing it against her pulpy labes.

She now ran his pulsing prick-head up and down her slit. Her moans came steadily as she stroked the monstrous shaft with the smooth inner flesh of her cunt-lips, her running box trickling its hot juices.

Finally he was seduced into action. He carefully lifted his body, easing Melissa onto her back. With his own hand he now guided his iron-hard meat into longer and firmer strokes, grinding the blood-engorged tip of his cock into the raw, sensitive bump of her clit.

"AAAAAHHHH! YES! God damn, it feels go good!" she cried, thrusting the silky triangle of her beaver harder against his scraping cock-head. "Now, Anita, sit on my face. Give me your cunt and let me suck you off!"

The older woman quickly obeyed. She straddled Melissa's face, lowering her cunt directly down on the girl's mouth. Instantly Melissa drove her hard tongue into Anita's hole, sucking and lapping at the juice as it ran from her heated, open gash.

The sight of his mother's shaking body and the sound of her loud, deep-throated sighs drove Bob even farther into his rising lust. His cock began diving deeper and deeper into her sapping sheath with each stoke, the warm depths of her cunt drawing him like a magnet.

"Give it to me!" Melissa gasped. "Give me your cock! All of it! I've got to have your cock in me now!"

Bob guided his aching fuck-pole to the juice-soaked mouth of her cunt. With one hard lunge he thrust his hips against her upraised crotch. His prick parted the soft, yielding walls of her cunt, and dove like a fleeing animal into the warm inner depths of her belly.

The fullness of his massive cock-shaft stretching her clenched cunt drove Melissa crazy with erotic delight. "God, it's good! It's so good. Fuck me, both of you. Batter me, smother me with your cunt, Anita. I want to fill you the way that I'm being filled."

Anita was being driven out of her mind by the talented tongue that reamed the far reaches of her pussy. It pulsed in and out of her like a miniature prick, stroking and caressing every inch of her tender hole. She moaned incessantly. Her hands grabbed at the bobbing head, jamming it harder into the burning channel of her snatch.

"OOOOOHHH, GODDDDD! YES!" Melissa screamed. "Fuck me harder! Fuck my face! Fuck my cunt! Fill me with everything until I can't take any more!"

Melissa's hips churned frantically, flying up to meet each of Bob's savage thrusts. Deeper and deeper he sank his cock into her gorged hole, his balls slapping firmly on the rippling, upturned cheeks of her ass.

He could feel her cunt muscles contracting, milking and sucking at his tool as he humped it harder and faster to feed her hungry twat.

Suddenly Anita felt the juices flowing from her wide-spread pussy in giant flooding waves. Her body jerked frantically as one of several massive, trembling orgasms racked her body. The river flowed from her cunt to spill down and bathe Melissa's face as she gobbled greedily at the sweet passion-brew.

From behind her, Anita felt the sudden, warm embrace of her son's strong arms, her own shaking mingling with the forceful jolts of his lunges into Melissa's writhing cunt. His hands cupped and fondled her bouncing tits in their crushing grasp, pushing her over the edge into one giant, final blast of orgasmic explosion.

Melissa was delirious with the giving and receiving of so much pleasure. She stretched her thighs open to the limit, and rammed her boiling cunt over Bob's rock-hard tool as her head thrashed desperately between Anita's convulsing thighs. Her mouth worked passionately, sucking the woman's pussy as thoroughly as her cunt sucked Bob's cock. Bob screamed, his cock thundering deep into her cunt. Melissa cried out her encourage meat in an animal scream that lost itself in the pulpy folds of Anita's pussy. She writhed like a demon possessed under his frantic thrusts, her cunt clutching his cock with incredible fury.

Melissa could feel the raging lust of his rutting tool as her cunt suddenly twitched in a racking spasm that stiffened her body with its force.

"I'm coming!" she screamed. "Pour it into me! Give me your cream! Come with me, it's gonna blow me apart!"

Her voice was a piercing shriek as her orgasm struck her cunt and belly like a hammer. The juices poured out to flood over his rampaging cock as her body bucked spastically.

And now, it was Bob who stiffened, his balls erupting in a burning fire. He shook and trembled as his creamy, thick cum spurted from the hole in his cock-head to blast its way deep into Melissa's quivering cunt.

Her belly twitched with the scorching power of the sperm his jumping cock was emptying into her cunt. Their juices mingled and flowed out around his cock, oozing down to trickle across her nakedly exposed asshole.

At last the final shudders of their orgasms subsided. Each body unwound itself from the other to collapse in a heap at some nearby space of carpet.

"Now that's what I call being a close family," Melissa said.

The comment drew a round of exhausted laughter from the others, and more importantly, opened the way for them to talk about it.

For several hours Bob and Anita just sat unburdening themselves of the secret of their relationship. Years of having to hide their love now caused their story to flow out in one long torrent of confession. Melissa listened sympathetically, offering all the support she could.

Finally, when it came time to leave, she dressed quickly, and paused to return their grateful, embracing farewells before finally leaving. The ride home was dominated by her fond and detailed remembrance of the evening's activities.

She replayed it in her mind time and again until, by the time she got home, the only thing she could think of was taking a bath and going to sleep. She entered the apartment, bolted the door, and dropped her purse and coat to the floor. She was striding to the bathroom, her arms reaching out in one long, contented stretch when the voice came.

"Hello, super-star. Been out celebrating?"

Her muscles contracted, her startled body turning to face the unexpected guest as he emerged from the shadows of the corner.

"MURDOCK! You scared the shit out of me! What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Waiting... I been thinking about you all day, sweet-tits, and I kinda got it figured that you owe me something."

He had obviously had a few drinks, and Melissa could see a cold, sadistic, lusting glow in her eyes that left no doubt as to his meaning. She was frightened, but she could not let him know it.

"Look, Murdock, I don't know how you got in here, but if you aren't out in two seconds, I'm calling the police."

"Go ahead. Call them."

"You bet I will!"

With all the confidence she could maintain, she stormed past him. She was only inches from the phone, and questioning his passiveness, when suddenly she was rocked by the impact of his hammer-like fist on her head.

She crumbled to her knees, her eyes assailed by blinding white flashes as she fought to retain consciousness. The ringing in her ears served to drown the sounds, but somehow not the meaning of Murdock's words as he kneeled before her.

"Listen, cunt. You've been fucking me royal ever since you dragged your slutty ass into my office, and I'm sick of it. Now you're going to fuck me the way I want to be fucked."

"Murdock," she mumbled, her tongue struggling for speech, "I wouldn't fuck you if you were the absolute last ma..."

But she never got to finish. Murdock's hand crossed her face in a vicious slap that brought on another chorus of balls.

Now Melissa was only aware of movement, and the distant hum of his bitter oaths. He had her by the back of the neck, and was moving her along. She felt the hand release, and then something like the weightlessness of outer space, before she felt herself bounce to a soft landing on what she knew was her bed.

She was now able to make out the sound of tearing cloth as her blouse flew from her limply struggling body. She sat there puzzling as the ripping continued behind her. My God, she thought, her mind beginning to clear, he's still tearing at that fucking blouse. He's gone crazy. I've got to do something, go to scream. Scream, damn you... scream.

She opened her mouth, the sound rising slowly but, unfortunately, too slowly. No sooner had her mouth opened than Murdock shaved one of the shredded pieces of cloth into it, tying another around her head to bind it in place.

It was not until she felt the cloth circling her wrists that she panicked. Her arms began fighting frantically at the bonds, tearing at her assailant with a fury that almost enabled her to match his superior, manly strength. For a second she was getting the upper hand, then WHAM! -- another slap -- WHAM! WHAM! Two more, and she slipped mercifully into unconsciousness.

She was not sure how long she had been out, but the first thing she saw when she awoke was Murdock's naked form next to her on the bed. His body was sweating from his labors, his cock standing out in quivering defiance from the dark forest of his crotch.

"Good morning, princess. I've been waiting for you. I almost started without you, but I decided to let you come around first. I want you to enjoy every minute of this."

Hoping to surprise him, she lunged, only to discover that she could not move. With the various pieces of torn clothing he had carefully tied both arms and legs to the four corners of the bed. She filled with anger and disgust as she realized her body was now helpless, and open to his every whim. She had only her panties to cover her nakedness, and they were quick to go.

"The first thing I want to do is get a look at your marvelous cunt," he panted, his hands easily tearing the fragile fabric from her hips. "So... this is it. The cunt the whole world wants. The cunt that made you boss, and fucked me out of a job."

His body filled with an insane, sadistic passion as he brought his head down to stare at her cunt, his thumbs coming up to part the soft labes.

"Well, it looks just like any other twat I've ever seen, just a lot more used... a lot more... recently, by the look of things. Maybe I should clean it out first, just to be safe. You never know what you might catch."

With this, he balled the silken fabric of her panties up, and with his thumbs, he viciously rammed the soft wad into her open pussy. She strained at her bonds as she felt the cloth cruelly enter and rise the long channel of her hole. But, for him, this was just the start. He now began shoving his whole hand behind it.

She fought as long as she could. Her cunt muscles tensed, trying to hold off the agonizing entry of his fingers, but to no avail. His hand shoved on, stretching the rich, pink lips of her pussy to their widest limit, racking her body in fiery, tearing torment.

Finally, preferring defeat to pain, she gave in to him, and relaxed her muscles. It was with great relief that the last row of knuckles cleared the taut opening of her twat, allowing it to contract around the firm bulk of his bony wrist.

He now clutched at the balled cloth inside her, and began running it around the soft inner walls of her gorged cunt. His breathing became frantic as the excitement of his act filled his revenge-racked mind. His hand twisted cruelly, swabbing the tender chamber of her pussy.

"Now it'll be clean. Now it'll be ready to fuck. But it's a little dry. We better get you wet, bitch, so you'll be ready for anything I decide to do. I want to see you respond to everything I'm doing to you."

He worked the cloth into his palm, burying it in his hand, and pulled his fingers into a tight fist. His face came down, his tongue shooting out to probe at the stretched-out knob of her clit as his fist jammed in and out. Its immense size -- bigger than anything she had ever had -- was tearing at her.

In spite of herself, the juices began to flow. They seeped out to coat the walls of her cunt, enabling his large fist to take longer and easier strokes. His hand was turning her inside out. His tongue was raking the soft, quivering bud of her clit, shocking her with jolt after jolt of thrilling passion.

Against every wish and command of her brain, her body began writhing its pleased response to his hateful acts. Her muffled protests became passionate moans as her cunt began massaging the giant fist in coaxing spasms.

But, if the idea of enjoying this odious man's deeds was repulsive to Melissa, it was even more disgusting to Murdock.

"NO!" he suddenly screamed.

He quickly lifted up, pulling his soaking fist from her cunt in one swift, hard motion that pierced the air with the sound of its suction.

"NO! It's no good if you enjoy it. There's no punishment in that. Can't fuck your cunt, there's too much pleasure in that. Somewhere else. Where...? Your mouth is full... let's see... Okay... how about here?"

Suddenly he straddled her stomach, and grabbed the twin mounds of her firm standing tits. An ugly smile curled his lips as his hands crushed and kneaded the massive globes, the soft flesh bending to bulge up between his wide-spread fingers, the hardening nipples tingling with the touch of his sweating palms.

"Yes, here we go. Let's fuck these huge jugs. These lovely hard-nippled tits I've had to stare at for a whole year."

Again she strained at the tight bands at her wrists, her body bucking uselessly against the weight of his body. With one hand he reached back and into her cunt, coating his fingers with her seeping juices, and then puffing it out to run it over his passion-stretched cock.

"Got to get it good and wet," he sneered, his hand repeating the process. She watched him as he fisted the full length of his huge prick, coating it in layers of glistening cream, before finally climbing her body to rest himself below her shaking tits.

He stared hungrily at the dark nipples, his cock trembling in anticipation. He was consumed with the combination of feelings that poured through his body. The joy of degrading his year-long enemy, assaulting her, and humbling her sexually, carried his passions to heights he had never known. And now it all poured out.

Suddenly, without warning, he reached down and slapped her tits. "I want you to feel it, cunt," he growled, pounding her on the word "cunt". "I want your tits good and tender, cunt, so you'll fuck me fucking them, cunt." With each "cunt", he slapped, battering the inner walls of her wobbling tit-flesh, the presence of his fingers recorded in the rising welts.

Her screams were lost in the tight wad of her gag as her body writhed frantically. Her teeth clamped down, the tears welling in her tightly lidded eyes as the throbbing pain of his blows surged out from her tender jugs.

"You ready, cunt? I'm going to fuck your giant tits, cunt. Come an, bitch, squirm for me, show me how much you hate it."

He placed his pulsing cock on the hard ridge of her breast bone, and grabbed her beaten tits, crushing them together cruelly over the length of his bulging meat.

His hips began driving. Melissa could see his flared cock-tip appearing and disappearing into the red, welted valley of her cleavage. Her body jerked with each agonizing stroke as he rammed his cock through the raw, beaten mounds of her tits.

"Oh, Goddamnit," he moaned, "it's good. God, it's good. Your tits are so fucking hot and... FUCK!"

His hands pound the smooth globes harder and tighter against his raging cock, his thumb and forefinger tearing at her screaming nipples. His body shivered with each thrust as it plowed through, pausing only a few inches from her gagged mouth each time.

"Oh, fuck... it's too good. I'm coming! It's too short, too quick! Not enough torture! I got to hold it back! Got to stop it!"

But he could not. The sight of her bound and helpless body, captive to his every wish, plus the sexual bliss of her firm, huge tits across his cock, combined to take him over the edge. The cum burst from his churning prick in several gushing spurts, spilling out in steady, hot streams to land across her face and neck. On and on he humped, until the last trickle poured from his cock to dribble out onto her heaving chest.

"That takes care of the passion load," he said, his hands rubbing the sticky sperm into her face. "Now we can get on with the real fucking, and I promise you, it'll last a lot longer."

Melissa's heart sank when she realized it was not over. It was as though his orgasm meant nothing. His passion was so mixed with his hatred that his hard-on remained completely firm. If anything, he was even more aroused, and wasted no time in continuing. By untying her limbs one at a time, and retying them to the opposite corners, he had her turned over on her stomach in seconds.

He raised her hips high into the air, her face and chest driving hard into the mattress. He kneeled between her outstretched legs, and grabbed the firm, white cushions of her ass-cheeks, his fingers digging hard into the full, white pads.

"Now you just be punished," he chuckled, his hand reaching down to wrench the belt from his pants. "You've been a bad girl, and Daddy must punish you."

With this he doubled the band of leather in his trembling hand, and smashed it across her bare, upturned ass. Her body heaved as the blow smacked loudly into her flesh. Again and again his arm would rise, then descend in a short, sweeping arc, lashing her ass with the hard loop of leather, his rhythm broken only by an occasional motion as his lips came down to suck at the flaming, red welts, marking each one with a giant purple hickey.

Melissa could see his body trembling from the overwhelming delight of his sadistic whipping. His cock bobbed frantically. Each stroke of the strap would bring another trickle of pre-cum oozing from its tip to trail down in a long, sticky string to the bed.

Melissa was also consumed with her own response, not altogether unpleasant. She began to feel that, under different circumstances, she could get off on this. Even now her cunt was beginning to drip with passion as his half-strength blows seared into her tender flesh, the taut leather biting into her throbbing ass-cheeks.

Murdock was shocked to feel his orgasm rising. The thrill of his action was pulsing through him with such incredible power, that he was sure be could cum just from biting her, but he wanted more.

He threw the belt aside, and pushed his lips against her crinkled asshole, his tongue darting out to ream the tightly tensed muscle. For several minutes he continued probing, his hot tongue pouring in and out of her clenched little asshole as his sucking mouth soaked the tiny hole with saliva.

Now he rose, his hips coming directly behind her until the pulsing tip of his oozing prick pressed against her quivering bung. Quickly he rammed his hips forward, his huge cock soaring up the channel of her bowels in one swift agonizing plunge.

His cock tore at the dry-walled insides of her rectum. Her body writhed and snaked furiously against the torment of his rigid tool. On and on he drove, the full length of his prick emerging and burying itself between the swollen, red cheeks of her ass. Harder and harder he banged, his passion rising in giant swells from his lust-frenzied balls.

Fortunately for Melissa, it was quick in coming. She endured some ten or fifteen strokes of his ramming pole into her dry, raw ass-tube, and screamed out her relief as his cock erupted into her, spilling out its cream in hot, surging blasts.

His body twisted violently with each, burst, his cock spewing its thick jizz far into the depths of her bowels.

Finally it slowed, the cum dribbling its last gasps before withering and sliding from her ass in one gurgling contraction of her aching muscle.

But the hatred remained. He dressed quickly, untying her, and dragging her by the hair towards the front door.

"This is just my first visit, bitch," he said, throwing open the front door.

Melissa's hands went up to shield herself from the empty hallway. Murdock laughed at the modest gesture, and leaned against the space of wall next to the door.

"I think you got off on this whole thing, didn't you, bitch? Well, don't worry, I intend to come back often. You've got a year's worth of debt to pay off, and I'm going to get it. And next time it'll be slower... much slower."

Murdock never saw it coming. In one gesture of incredible speed, she drove her knee up and into his balls, packing it with all the strength her tired body could muster.

She ducked in anticipation of his retaliation, but it never came. She uncovered her face, and saw him frozen in an open-mouthed, soundless scream, his eyes rolled into the back of his lids. She moved around and pushed his body into the open doorway.

He fell to the hallway floor, his body and face still retaining their silent agony. She stared for a few seconds, savoring the sight, printing it forever in her mind. It was the final battle of a long war, and she wanted to remember it.

She knew she would never see Murdock again.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Melissa was sitting at her desk, reading over her latest article when the phone rang.

"Hello. Special Assignments Desk. Can I help you?"

"Hello, Miss Dansin. Got time for an old friend?"

It took Melissa a few seconds to recognize the male voice, but when she did, her excitement was not to be contained.

"Darren Meredith! My God, how are you?"

"Just fine. I'd ask you the same thing, but I can see you're doing A-OK. How long you been boss?"

"Almost five months now. It's great! I get to pick all my own interviews."

"I'll bet they've been hot ones," he said, putting what could only be called a wink into his voice. "Any serious boy friends?"

"Nope. I spend mast of my time with Bob, and his mother, and a few of their friends, but nothing heavy. Why? Interested?"

"You never know, I might be."

The idea brought a quick flutter to her stomach, surprising her. "How have you been doing?"

"Great! Did a little moving up myself. Old man Walsh finally retired, and I've moved into his spot."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. I'm a full-fledged network exec. In fact, it's in that capacity I'm calling you."

"Of course. After a year and a half why should I expect a social call?" She tried to load it with sarcasm, but the excited giggle still crept through.

"Okay, smart-ass, I'm sorry. I'm a fuck-up and I know it. However, this fuck-up has been thinking about you a lot, and has even submitted you for a national TV job. Interested?"

She could only sit there mutely, not sure she had heard correctly. "You... I'm... WHAT!"

"Yep. They're revising the evening news to include a five-minute celebrity interview, and I thought maybe you'd like to shoot for it."

"Well... yes. YES! Oh, wait -- I've got to talk to Pallbrook first."

"Then talk to him, call me back, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow... but..."

"Sorry," he said laughing, "can't waste any more of the company's money."

He was gone. She held the phone, the alarm-like hum of the dial tone assuring her that she was indeed awake. She finally shook herself out of it, and headed for Pallbrook's office. She felt nervous, and a little like a deserter, but it was too big an offer to ignore.

To her relief Pallbrook seemed even more excited than she was, certainly less surprised. "I always knew you'd move up," he chuckled. "As long as it's up, and not over to the competition, I'm thrilled." At Pallbrook's insistence, she returned Darren's call right there in the office. She quickly went to share the good news with Bob, before going home to pack.

The next day she was lifting skyward on a jet bound for New York City, her head still spinning with the speed and suddenness of the whole affair.

Her emotions were spinning, too. Sadness, nervousness, and excitement all mingled, and churned, each surfacing for its moment of focus, only to submerge again, and give way to one of the others. The dominant emotion proved to be excitement.

But Melissa was surprised to notice that her excitement revolved less around the job than seeing Darren again. The thought of this man, this one-week fling, kept holding her at a level of emotion that confused and almost frightened her with its intensity.

"What am I so excited about?" she mumbled as she stared at the billowing mountains of cloud banks. "Jeez, you'd think I was in love with the guy!"

She tried taking her mind off the subject, molding the clouds into imaginary shapes below her, but it did not work. She only managed to imagine herself into the fond memory of Darren's last night in Chicago.

They had spent the evening together at home. It was about four in the morning when they had walked out to the Oak Street beach. The traffic was light on the curving arm of the Outer Drive as they sat huddled under a blanket, the soft sand beneath them.

But the gentle lake breeze had brought with it a hunger and a passion that no amount of traffic or danger of discovery could subdue. Shielded by the darkness and their blanket, Darren had quickly removed the woven barrier of their clothes, and lowered her into the firmly yielding sand.

For a few seconds he watched her body. The moonlight played across her giving flesh as she snaked slowly in anticipation. Finally her arms flowed out in open invitation, pulling him onto the ground beside her.

His hands flowed across her body, drinking in this last encounter with her satin-smooth flesh. With one hand she gently pushed his head down, using the other to guide the tip of her perfectly rounded tit into his hot, searching mouth. His tongue caressed the rigid, straining nipple as his lips sucked the surrounding flesh with growing passion.

Melissa's hands slid down, pausing to memorize each rippling muscle on his full chest until they finally came to rest on his taut, throbbing cock. Tenderly she squeezed and pumped the giant rod, its size and pulsing hardness sending shocks of erotic sensation through her body.

His own hand dropped to weave its way through the dark bush of her beaver, and search the soaking mouth of her cunt. Her body arched as two fingers rose into the tight, running channel, probing to find that sensitive spot that would send thrills of delight surging through her body.

"Oh... oh, God, Darren. It feels so fucking good. Everything you do fills me up so fucking good."

"I'll till you better in a second. I just want to make sure you're ready for my cock."

Harder and harder she manipulated his prick, trying to fill him with the same feeling of erotic joy she was having. His fingers were soon coated with the dripping juices of her warm cunt as his fingers softly massaged the tiny clit at the top of her gash.

"Now, please. Give me your cock now."

"Yes, we're both ready. I want to feel your cunt."

She rolled to her back as he slid into position over her. He lowered his body, her legs coming up to lock behind him, puffing him towards her open, hungry cunt. With her hand she guided the quivering shaft of his cock into her soft sheath. Darren moved forward slowly, allowing the bright crown of his prick to separate the juicy lips, and enter the tender, pink passage of her cunt. He moaned as his cock slid, farther and farther into her satiny smooth channel, rising until its full length was buried in the moist warmth of her cunt.

He now began rotating his hips in precise, surging thrusts, his huge cock sending her into the divine throes of torrid passion. Her moans and gasps urged him on as she matched his motions, her hips churning to suck at the massive shaft of his prick.

"You're so tight and warm," he sighed, his eyes staring half-lidded into her beautiful face.

"Oh, God, it's not me, it's you. You're so huge. Your cock is so huge and wonderful. I love your cock."

"I love your cunt. Your beautiful, warm cunt."

The words drove them on to greater heights. The thrusts came faster and faster. Melissa accepted his violent surges with eager gyrations of her own. The steady rhythm was broken only by occasional slow movements as he pulled his cock out, leaving only the poised tip inside her sheathing cunt, taunting her shivering body with it, before plunging it back in to the bit in one thrilling lunge.

"Darren. Oh, Darren, I don't want it to end. I want you to stay. I want you to stay with me."

"Yes, I could. I almost think I could."

Her eyes were lost somewhere in the back of her head. Her body totally surrendered to the bliss of his impaling rod. Her movements quickened, her back arching even more to drive her slit harder against the base of his cock.

"Faster! Oh, Darren, give me all of it! Pound it into me!"

Lost in his own bliss, he responded instantly, pounding his prick in longer and harder strokes. His driving cock filled and emptied her wet, clutching hole, bringing her even closer to release. Again and again her whole body jerked spasmodically until she became a writhing blur of frenzied motion, screaming her ecstasy across the still lake waters.

"Oh, God, it's coming! Fuck me! Pound me! Make me bunt!"

"Yes, I feel it! It's... yes it's coming! God, it's coming!"

"Let it go! Let it happen for us both! SHIT, LET IT COME!"

He surged his ass forward, grinding his vibrating cock into her hole, forcing her ass hard into the molded sand. Her feverish cunt grabbed and pulled at his prick lovingly, hungrily, sucking it into the waking depths of her belly.

"Now!" be growled. "It's coming now!" He felt the heat in his balls begin to rise the pulsing length of his cock.

"COME! COME!" she squealed. "Me, too! NOW! I'M COOOOOMMIIINNNGG!"

Some where inside her belly were giant swells of their juices collided in violent release. Darren felt like his insides were being sucked out and spewed into her flooding, twitching pussy. Melissa's body was jolted and racked with blast after blast of fiery bliss.

It took her a few seconds to realize that she was not on the beach, but on an airplane somewhere over New Jersey. Her memory of that final night was so vivid that she had actually had an orgasm. Her body shivered as she placed her unconsciously working hands into the more publicly acceptable berth of the arm rests.

Melissa quickly checked to see if she had been caught, and locked eyes with the only man in the aisle across from her. He was a stylishly dressed, extremely bold-featured man who had definitely been watching. Her face flushed when he lifted from his seat to cross the narrow aisle, and seat himself next to her.

"I wish I had that effect on my women," he joked, his manner somehow soothing the awkwardness of the situation. "Whoever he is, he must be a hell of a guy, and he's got a hell of a woman."

"Yeah," she mumbled, not quite knowing what to say.

"You ever been to New York?"

"Nope," she snapped.

"Look, I didn't come over here to hassle you. I just felt I'd like to get to know you if it's possible. I knew if I stayed in my seat, there was no chance, and if I came over here, there was at least some possibility. My name is Larry Roland, and here's a card. If things don't work out for you, I'd be glad to show you New York. Okay?"

She took the card, thanked him, and watched as he returned to his seat. She glanced at the card, noting that it contained his name and an agency logo that read, Supremacy Management. She guessed he was probably an actor, and barely glanced at the penciled-in address and phone number before tossing it into her purse.

Darren was waiting at the gate when she debarked, and the reunion was warm and passionate. Her stomach swiveled in her belly as his tongue heralded his welcome deep into her mouth. She might have taken him on right there, the public be damned, had he not laughingly scooted her off to the airport bar for a couple of drinks.

It was the bustling, unatmospheric quality of the place that filially cooled Melissa's fires enough that they could just talk. They caught each other up on a year and a half's worth of separation, and discussed briefly the next hour's interview for the other network bigwigs.

It was not until they were riding to the studio building that she began to feel truly nervous.

"Oh, shit, Darren, what the hell am I going to do on TV? I hold my interviews in people's bedrooms, and I'm afraid that just won't work in front of the cameras."

"Is that the only way you can get your information?" he chuckled.

"No... but it sure helps. Without it my material would be like everyone else's."

"Well, then keep it up."

"Oh, sure! When did you start running an X-rated news show?"

"No, dum-dum. Just do a pre-interview. Warm them up privately, get your information, and then bring it out on camera. You'll be the same brilliant Melissa the people love, to read."

"You think it could work?"

"Well, you're going to have to do a screen test. Find someone big and test it out. I suspect you'll do just fine."

Melissa's mind suddenly clicked. "Darren, who's Larry Roland?" She began searching her purse for the card.

"Ooooh, you know him?"

"Soft of."

"Great choice. He's a big soap-opera actor, the public loves him. An interview with him will carry a lot of weight with the bosses, too. He's on our network."

"Well, what the hell," she sighed, suddenly grateful for the tiny card clutched hopefully in her hand. "It's worth a try!"

Larry Roland's bedroom was a lavishly decorated affair, only a small part of his Riverside Drive penthouse suite. But Melissa was hardly in a position to notice as the two naked bodies rolled playfully around the huge wall-to-wall bed.

For several minutes now the groans of mounting passion had been the only sounds in the room. It was not until Larry's head lifted from its mouth-probing kiss that human speech reoccupied the space.

"I wonder if you'd be up for something a little out of the ordinary?" he asked, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "I was kind of hoping that your actions on the plane shows a lack of inhibition. Are you interested in something a little different?"

"What'd you have in mind?"

Quickly he rose, pulling her by the hand, and leading her into one of the apartment's high ceilinged rooms. Melissa stopped short at the sight that greeted her. It was a large room, the left and right side of which contained nothing but costumes. The walls were covered with object littered shelves, pennants, swords, shields, and hangings of every conceivable type and period. The center of the room was dominated by a large oak table with a throne-like chair at its head.

"I keep a significant momento from each play I've done," he said, his hand sweeping the array of artifacts. "And here, I have every costume I've ever worn on stage."

She ran her hand down the long rack, marveling at the various fabrics and styles, finally stopping at one long, velvet robe, richly trimmed in fur.

"I wore that one as Henry the Eighth," he said fondly, putting it on over his naked body. He grabbed a crown from one of the numerous shelves, and seated himself in the throne, his voice raised high as the full Shakespearean lines flowed from his throat.

Melissa was captivated by his manner and delivery, and thrilled at the private performance he was giving. It was not until a few seconds later that she realized the other wall contained nothing but women's clothes. Momentarily she was confused. They could not be his. Did he have a wife? Whose were they?

Then suddenly she understood why they were there. These clothes were for his women. His acting extended even into his sex life. If that was it, Melissa was all for it, and while he chanted on, she ran to the rack and quickly slipped into a long, flowing, empire-waisted gown.

She now turned and spoke, cutting into his speech in the hope she was right.

"I am here, my lord."

He paused to look at her, the high-waisted gown cupping the perfect mounds of her tits. "And who might ye be, fair lady?"

"I am Anne Boleyn, here to do my lord's bidding."

She was pleased with the look that came over his face. She had guessed right. The sight of this woman so beautiful, so willing to play his game, so quick to understand his needs, lit a fire of passion in his eyes that almost seemed to bum her in its lusting gaze.

He now rose, crossing to her, circling her, devouring her form under the soft folds of her dress.

"Are you worthy? The king must have a worthy servant."

He now grasped the top of the gown, pulling it down to her waist in one slow, continuing move. His smile widened as her tits slowly bobbed from beneath the satiny top, her firmly erect nipples staring at him in open invitation.

"Yes, you are worthy indeed," he whispered.

Melissa could see he was completely caught up in his role. He was no longer Larry Roland eyeing the luscious tits of Melissa Dansin; he was Henry, staring at Anne, his subject.

His hands now came up and cupped the gently swaying melons, his fingers and thumbs coming together to squeeze her taut nipples in their firm pinching grasp.

"You have much to offer your king. Are you a willing subject?" His hands crushed the giant jugs in a slow circular motion.

"Whatever my lord wants, is his," she moaned, her head bowed humbly, her eyes locked on the tip of his straining cock as it jumped between the open flaps of his robe. "I am here to serve." And her tongue came out to travel the full circumference of her open lips.

At the sight of her obvious gesture, he was lost in his game. Sure of her, cooperation, his voice began barking its kingly orders, his commands echoing their hoarse passion throughout the large room.

"On your knees. Humble yourself before your king."

"I am your slave!" she cried, dropping quickly to her knees, her face now poised before his throbbing cock.

"Kiss it!" he cried, throwing open his robe. "Kiss the royal staff. It is the divine symbol of my power."

His hard-on thrust out hungrily from his aching crotch. She stared at the swollen, red shaft quivering before her. She brought her lips up to it, her tongue coming out to circle slowly around the bare, smooth crown of his cock. Her head moved forward slightly, her moist lips closing around his prick-head. Her tongue flicked lightly across the very tip to scoop and swallow the tiny trickle of sperm that ran from his burning balls.

"Harder. You must surrender to it. Give it all your devotion."

While he spoke, he began pressing his hips forward, sinking his cock deeper and deeper into her hot, wet mouth. His body began shaking in uncontrolled passion as he felt the warmth of her tightly circling lips climb steadily back onto his huge cock.

Her tongue worked feverishly across the soft underside of his prick as the tip ran farther and farther back into her throat, until finally her lips and nose were nestled in the wiry patch of his pubic hair.

"Oh, good God," he groaned. "No one's ever taken so much. God, suck it. Suck my cock. Swallow my royal meat."

His hips began churning, grinding the length of his cock in and out of her wonderful, sucking mouth. She pulled her anus free from the lowered dress top, and brought her hands up. With one hand she grabbed his rapidly swaying balls, massaging them gently. With the other she grasped the base of his fuck-stick.

Melissa could feel the extreme pleasure of her act filling her body. Their groans mingled as she guided each violent lunge with expert skill, spiraling their shared passions to even greater heights.

On and on he stroked, her burning mouth sucking with a fury that threatened to draw his balls out through the narrow tube of his cock. His hips swayed violently, burying his giant prick deep into her throat.

Larry knew he could not go much longer. He had never been blown so fully, so deeply, by a woman so willing to please his imagination as well as his body. His balls were quivering in her soothing hand, aching with the giant load that would soon burst forth.

"Up, wench!" he yelled, sliding his prick from her mouth. "You're shown your devotion, now you must please me. You must obey the king's wishes." And he pulled her to her feet.

"Whatever my lord wants, is his."

Melissa did not allow one second for their erotic needs to diminish. Quickly she walked to the table, planting her feet in a wide stance. She gathered the dress in both hands, lifting it high above her waist, and lowered her upper torso down onto the table.

"Take me into your service, my king."

He nearly collapsed at the sight of her wet, seething cunt begging him from below her beautiful, bare ass. He stepped over, and guided his iron-hard meat towards her cunt, nestling the hot, flared tip into her pulpy labes.

"My lady knows well the king's needs."

He was barely conscious of pushing. It seemed more like her wanton cunt sucked the full length of his massive tool up into her juice-soaked channel. He was now a man possessed, grasping her slender hips, and driving his cock urgently into her hot snatch.

She grabbed hard at the table's sides, bracing herself, heaving her body back to meet and return his every lunge. Her own body writhed and churned in agonizing bliss, her tits crushed against the hard wood of the table top.

On and on he rammed, his mind gone, his body lost in the insanity of her tight, sucking sheath. Their groans heaved out from their frantically sweating bodies to fill the air.

It was only a few minutes, but it seemed much longer as the divine bliss flowed through them. Both hung on the edge of explosion, grinding together to stretch this glorious sensation as long as it would go before the final crack.

When it finally came, it swept them both away, their bodies helplessly out of control. Larry's cock burst its cum into her flooding box in violent gushes that collapsed him over her outstretched body. Wave after wave of blasting heat tore through Melissa, leaving her spent in their wake.

And as the shocks subsided, carrying with them Henry and Anne, there was only Larry Roland sighing his appreciation into Melissa's ear, offering her anything -- anything she wanted.

Melissa knew what she wanted, and, more importantly, she now knew that she could still get it with the same guaranteed results she had always gotten.

CHAPTER NINE

"Melissa, I love you!"

"No, Darren, it won't work. I know it."

Melissa was on the verge of tears. It was hard on her. It did not happen often, but whenever she fell in love, it was difficult. And Melissa was definitely in love.

The network people had handed her the job on a silver platter and, with it, one month to get settled in New York. This first week she spent with Darren, their relationship assuming, almost instantly, that same closeness that had existed in Chicago.

And now she was in love. There was no way for her to deny it any longer, and he apparently felt the same way.

"Look, it's ridiculous for you to get your own apartment," he said. "I want you here with me. I love you, and I know you feel the same about me. I know you want to stay here."

"Yes! I want to, but I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because every time I've tried it, it fails. Oh, sure, the guy accepts my bedroom interviews at first, but sooner or later he always goes over the deep end."

The frustration was obvious on Darren's face. "What do I have to do to prove to you that I don't care? Who you sleep with has nothing to do with my loving you. We've both been around and back again too many times to be hooked on sexual infatuation or possessiveness. What can I do to show you?"

"I don't know... Nothing, I guess. Look, I've got to think. I'm going to take a walk, okay?" Melissa walked to the closet, quickly grabbing a jacket, and headed for the door.

"Just one question, Melissa. Do you love me?"

"Oh, Darren... you know I do." And she walked out the door.

Once on the street, the thoughts tumbled in her head. She was confused. She did not know what to do. She wanted more than anything to live with Darren, but that fear, that nagging fear of his inevitable jealousy, told her it was impossible.

"Maybe," she muttered, "just maybe he would be different." But the idea just would not sit easy in her feelings. She walked for several hours, not seeing anything, just walking, before she finally returned. Nothing had been settled.

"It's about time you got back," he laughed, his voice surprising her with its gaiety. "You'd better hurry. The party starts in an hour."

"What party?"

"I've invited a few friends over I want you to meet. Thought it'd help us get our mind off things."

Darren was scurrying around the room in preparation and Melissa headed for the bathroom. Oh, well, she thought, maybe it would be good to stop thinking about it so much. Melissa spent the next hour getting ready, and by the time the guests came she was in very good spirits.

The first to arrive were Mark and Mary Ann Barnstall. Melissa greeted them warmly, and no sooner were they settled in their chairs than Jeff and Ernestine Rogers appeared. Darren made the introductions, and soon everyone was seated around the room, drinks in hand.

The first part of the evening was dominated by Mark and Jeff. Mark, it turned out, was an aspiring young comedian. He was a young man with a boyish all-American look, and an expressive face that kept everyone laughing as he traded jokes with Jeff. Jeff was a full-bearded man with less clowning vitality than Mark, but as a writer, he possessed a great verbal wit, and matched Mark well in capturing the audience's attention and laughter.

The two men kept at it for a long time. The onlookers responding with more and more appreciation as the drinks began to take their effect.

As the group got drunker, the focus began shifting from the two men to Mark's wife, Mary Ann.

"I'm tired of this shit," she said, showing more of the effects of the alcohol. "I've had enough jokes. I went to move. Let's get less verbal and more physical."

She finally got up and put on some music, turning it up to drown out the last of the joke session before grabbing Darren, and pulling him up to dance with her.

Melissa could not help marveling at the girl as she danced around the floor. She was a flaming, red-haired beauty with a shapely, muscular body, and a pair of large tits that rivaled Melissa's in size and firmness. She was a professional dancer, and knew just how to move to exploit the fullest assets of her body.

The mood of the room quickly changed. All eyes were now on Mary Ann. The clipped, erratic sound of laughter yielded to the long sighs of heavy breathing as Mary Ann snaked sensually around the floor, her moves becoming more sexual when she sensed the attention of the room.

"I love to move!" she cried. "I think the human body is the most exciting when it's dancing."

"There's no doubt yours is," Darren said, with Jeff adding, "I wouldn't mind seeing more of it." That was all Mary Ann needed to hear. She began undressing with all the finesse of a practiced stripper. Slowly, carefully, she removed her clothes, exposing each part of her body in a gradual, teasing manner calculated to stiffen the cock of every man in the room.

"A dancer needs to be appreciated," she moaned, now completely naked. "My body is my tool, and I need it to be admired."

She weaved from one person to another, accepting all the appreciation and contact she could inspire. Her dance became an expression of raw, passionate sex as she screamed out her heated lust.

"Dance is life. Dance is everything." Her body dropped to the floor, writhing in rhythmic ecstasy. "The most beautiful dance of all is fucking. The body is its most expressive when fucking, its most graceful, its most satisfied. Dance with me somebody, anybody, dance with me."

That seemed to be the cue for the action to start. Jeff and Darren had their clothes off in seconds. Quickly they joined her writhing body on the floor, her skin glistening with perspiration.

Jeff dropped between her legs, and drove his cock up into her cunt. Darren settled over her face. With a steady hand he guided his huge, rigid cock into her open mouth. The hips of bath men started thrusting wildly.

Ernestine suddenly rose and threw the clothes from her body. She came round and placed herself in front of Darren, pulling his face into the soft warmth of her pussy and grinding her hips into his now reaming tongue.

Melissa sat there open-mouthed. She had watched it all progress, and still could not figure out how it had happened. Darien had given her no indication of what was expected, and she could only stare in amazement.

Suddenly she was aware of Mark speaking next to her. "You don't disapprove, do you?"

"Huh? Oh! No! No, I just... I'm a little startled, that's all."

"Not too startled to get into it, I hope," he smiled, his hand dropping down the front of her dress, his fingers closing around the hard point of her nipple.

As Mark fondled her tits, she sat watching the four bodies on the floor. Each person was working at a fever pitch of white-hot excitement. Each man's cock-thrust extended deeper than the last as each woman rounded herself harder into the various objects of their delight.

Their voices mingled, each shouting their own particular need to the other. All, combined with the sounds of heavy fucking and sucking, worked to release the flow of sticky juices in Melissa's cunt.

Then it happened. As if on signal, both men came together into Mary Ann. Her mouth and the fiery slit of her cunt were both filled at once with the scalding streams of white-hot jizz from the pulsing cocks. Their orgasms seemed to go on and on as their bodies jerked in spasms of erotic bliss.

"Do you like what you see?" Mark asked.

"Oh, God, yes!" she replied, her body now lost in the throes of her dripping passion. "Damnit, get undressed. I want to suck your cock."

In a flash they were naked and on the floor. Mark's hands were all over her. His caressing quickly had her squirming. With one hand he grabbed at her tits, crushing them under his kneading grasp, while the other ran up and down her sweating inner thighs.

Her hand came down to grasp his growing cock. She trembled as she felt the blood pour in, raising his fuck-stick to full, throbbing erection.

"Does it feel good?" he moaned. "Does my prick feel good to you?"

"Yes, it's beautiful, Mark. I want to suck it. I want to swallow your cream while you suck my cunt dry. Give it to me. Let me taste it."

Mark now lay back, watching in rapture as she covered and uncovered the tip of his huge prick with her hands. Her tongue ran out to stroke his oozing tip, playing across the flared cap of his cock until he could not stand it any more.

He reached up to the back of her head, and thrust it to the limit over his driving rod. Again and again he did it, stifling her moans and filling her hungry throat with his prick.

And now, controlling his thrilled cock as best he could, Mark pulled her hips around, placing her knees on each side of his sweating face. With his fingers he burrowed in among the hairs to the moist, warm crack, parting the lips, and opening the pink cunt-flesh to his waiting licker. The moans of ecstasy rang from her cock-engorged throat as he buried his face deeply into the burning gash of her pussy.

"Yes, suck!" she cried, her mouth contorted over the head of his ramming tool. "Suck me, suck me hard, as hard as I'm going to suck you!"

To emphasize her words, she grabbed his ass, digging her nails deeply into his cheeks, urging him on to longer and harder thrusts between her saliva-soaked lips as she pound her hips into his face.

Both bodies glistened with the mingled juices of their lust. The writhing bodies seemed to blend into one bucking, pounding mass of sex-hungry flesh as they worked each other up to the blinding moment of climax. Screams came from both their throats when the mutual orgasms broke. He drove his gulping face into her quivering pussy while she swallowed spurt after spurt of his hot, creamy cum.

They rolled away from each other, their passions only momentarily quieted. Melissa now became aware of the other bodies in the room. She opened her eyes to see Jeff standing above her, his cock in his hand.

"Now that you're warmed up, are you ready to be filled with something a little better than a tongue?" he asked, grinning lustfully.

"I'm more than ready," she replied, raising her arms towards his lowering body.

Jeff placed his body between her outstretched legs. She wrapped her legs around his ass, pulling him to her, moaning as she felt the tight tip of his cock poke against her burning cunt-hole.

"You want it fast or slow?" he asked.

"Fast! I want it in me! Shove it up my cunt hard! Fill me with it!"

"Whatever you want, baby." He pulled back with his hips. With the base of his cock in his hand, he gouged her cunt until he felt the head squeeze between the pulpy lips and enter her gash.

"NOW! Do it HARD!"

"Take it sweetheart, take it all!" he screamed, and rammed his hips forward, his ass muscles knotting in their effort to drive the massive shaft clear into her belly.

"SHIIIIIITT!" Her cry rang out as his prick blasted into her cream-soaked cunt, battering against the far back wall of her twat.

She pulled his face down to her, and welded his lips to hers, sucking the very life from his hard probing tongue. Her tits bulged out from the pressure of his heaving chest as he slammed his crotch into hers in long, hard strokes.

Her body became a writhing, convulsing torrent of passion as her cunt smothered his cock, her soft cunt muscles gasping and caressing his cock with each long thrust. She felt it pounding her as she slid her pussy over it, sucking at its tremendous, blissful length.

"Oh, God, Jeff. It's so good. I think I'm coming already, but don't stop. Oh, God, ram me!"

"It's all yours, Melissa. Take it all!"

She raised her face, and stared down the length of their pulsing bodies. She watched delightedly while the long hardness of his soaking shaft appeared and disappeared inside the clawing folds of her pussy.

Melissa became a fleshy, lust-driven machine, throwing her hips eagerly to meet his hard strokes. Jeff had a big cock, and he knew how to use it. He filled her cunt time and time again, his huge tool spearing her clitoris as her head rolled passionately on the floor, her nails digging into his taut butt and driving his cock ever deeper into her hot box.

Melissa paused in her thrashing to stare around the room. The sight of the other naked bodies, each giving their pleasure, only served to drive her further into the insanity of horny delight.

A short distance across the room, Ernestine was lying flat on her back with her legs spread wide apart. Mark was lying on his stomach with his face pressed hard against her cunt. The dark-haired girl was moving her hips slowly, gasping as Mark's head moved vigorously between her legs, his tongue gouging into her pussy Melissa could not help responding to the sounds of his licking and sucking, driving her pussy harder and harder over Jeff's cock.

In another spot she could see Mary Ann on top of Darren, fucking him for all he was worth. She watched his huge cock rutting in and out of Mary Ann's tautly stretched cunt, filling her with an insanely burning pleasure as her body trembled with each thrust.

Melissa could not stop watching. Mary Ann's legs were on either side of Darren's hips, and she was creating all the motion. Her ass moved in full, circular sweeps, moving up and down blissfully as she smothered his neck and face with, hot kisses. He lay there almost passively, breathing heavily, and enjoying the pleasure she was taking from him.

And now suddenly, unexpectedly, she felt more in love with Darren than she ever had before. She watched his cock, that cock that thrilled her more than any other she had ever known, giving so much pleasure to another woman, and she did not mind at all. In fact, she was thrilled by it.

She was experiencing a kind of dual stimulation. There was the pure eroticism of watching Darren fuck Mary Ann, and Melissa could sense every joy that the woman was feeling. But there was also a sense of giving pleasure. By letting Darren fuck the woman, she was in a small way contributing to what Mary Ann was getting.

She was basking in the warm glow of this feeling when the realization hit. If she felt this way, maybe Darren did, too. Of course! That was what he had been trying to tell her. He really didn't cue about her sexual escapades. He loved her, and he had set this whole evening up to prove he didn't mind.

The tears of joy were beginning to form in her eyes when she heard a scream from the other couple, and rolled her head back in time to see Ernestine cum.

"Suck me! Oh, God, suck my cunt!" she was shouting, her ass bucking violently from the floor. Mark was sucking and licking her cunt like a wild man. Ernestine's arms flailed, and her body shook with the force of her orgasm.

Melissa's own body was going crazy. Her fleshy ass slapped the floor, and then rammed upward to drive over Jeff's cock.

"Oh, shit, honey! I'm coming!" he yelled, "I can't stop it!"

She came with him, shivering as the warm sticky jizz flowed in great spurts against the very back of her cunt. She continued pounding her hips, her clit rubbing across his cock, until the last drop had spilled, and his prick retreated from her hot, satisfied twat.

And now, everyone was still, their bodies lying spent and exhausted in various positions around the room.

For a while they all lay there talking and stroking, the room taking on a more playful atmosphere. Soon, however, they dressed, and the guests departed, expressing their love for each other in warm, expressive gestures.

And now Melissa and Darren were alone, still lying naked, not having moved to say good-bye to a single guest. For the longest time they just stared at one another, sensing each other.

"Come here, you," she growled, her body sending out its invitation. "Think you're pretty clever, don't you? You set this whole evening up."

"Yeah... I guess I did," he grinned as he crawled towards her. "You mad?"

"Yep. What really pisses me off is... it worked."

"I can assume then that I have a roommate?"

"You betcha," she sighed. "For as long as you can stand it."

Darren lowered himself between her legs, the huge length of his cock slowly filling the warm channel of her cunt.

"Melissa honey, I got a feeling that might be a pretty long time."

"Forever," she whispered. "Forever is fine with me."

THE END

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