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Meeting Me

By: Professor_Playful



I'm at baggage claim, delirious from a redeye flight beside a screaming child, my head pounding agonized withdrawal from the caffeine I wasn't supposed to have. Desperately I search the salamander of crawling luggage for my red bag . . . or is it black? I can't remember! Where is my claim ticket? Oh Jeezus it's not in my pocket!

Then I look up and my pounding heart stops.

It's you.

Your serene face brings a calmness flowing through me. I stand there dumbfounded, sighing. Suddenly my hand reaches out of its own volition and - like magic - the handle of my red bag is right there. I pull it from the conveyor and realize that I was stressed over nothing. I hope you didn't notice my little internal freakout.

I put my arms around you. "What're you doing here in Vegas?" I ask. "How did you know I'd be here?"

You say nothing. With a smile and a tip of your head I know I should follow you. I put one arm around your shoulder as we walk together. People are staring at you, but I'm so overcome with happiness I don't realize why. The Nevada desert is about a hundred degrees today and everyone, including me, is wearing shorts and T-shirts. You are wearing a full-length trench coat and sandals. Everyone in the airport has guessed that underneath the coat you are naked. A few people try to avert their gazes even as their eyes track your every move, curious about any glimpse they might catch.

You have a sporty rental waiting just outside, though somehow I don't notice if it's a Mustang or a Miata. The trunk pops open as we approach . . . I was too distracted by the sleek curves of your bare calves to see your hand touch the remote. As I drop in my bag you slip into the driver's seat and start the engine. I slide into the passenger seat, and without a word you grasp the gearshift and we're off.

I don't know anything about Las Vegas. Mystified by blazing lights and fantasy trappings, I gaze about in wonder. But my sightseeing is interrupted by your hand slipping over to feel my arm. You smile approvingly as you explore me: bicep, tricep, deltoid. At a stoplight you place your hand on my firm chest and sigh. So that's how it's going to be.

I'm surprised when I see the name of the hotel where I'm supposed to stay, and doubly surprised when you whip your car into its parking garage. Apparently you have deductive powers beyond my fathoming.

When you kill the engine the doors automatically unlock. But as I reach for my door handle you press a button and with a *thunk* my door is locked once again. I turn to you quizzically. You grasp my hand and guide it. Suddenly I draw a sharp breath.

Beneath the trench coat your body is, indeed, naked.

You nod, step out of the car, and walk away. As you disappear into the hazy darkness I hear a *click* and the trunk pops open for me. Mesmerized, I retrieve my bag and head for the hotel's front desk alone.

Minutes later I am in line to check in when I notice heads turning and and people murmuring. I'm sure you must have entered the lobby. I follow their gazes past towering potted plants and Goliath-sized chandeliers to see you strutting across the massive chamber. Las Vegas is teeming with half-nude women, but somehow no one can resist gazing upon the woman they know to be naked under trench coat. Are they wondering, as I am, how the firm fabric feels as it rubs your nipples?

Of course you knew I would carry my own luggage without asking a bellhop, so when I stroll alone up to my room I'm not surprised to see the trench-coated beauty waiting outside my door. "Hi there," I say, with only a handfull of my brain cells wondering how you knew my room number before I did. In response you pull the key card from my hand and open my door.

Inside you click the deadbolt locked, then grab the handle of my red bag and fling it like a discus across the room. Apparently I won't be needing its contents. You pull the bottom of my T-shirt and I raise my arms to help you remove it. For a moment you examine my firm muscles with a critical eye, then you point at my shorts and then the floor. Obediently I slip them to my feet and kick them away. I'm standing naked before you.

You nod your head toward the bathroom and I follow. You reach into the shower, start a warm hiss of water, and turn to face me. Then very slowly, starting at the top button, you begin to undo your trench coat. The sight of your gradually revealed body makes my heart thunder, and by the time the coat slips gently to the floor I have produced a ramrod for you. My body has been your accomplice, responding exactly as you planned.

You take my hand and step a sultry pointed toe into the shower. My eyes follow your every curve as you enter the stream. I study one drop as it splats onto your body and becomes part of the sheen flowing over you. When I die I want to go like that water drop, glistening and spreading myself all across your flesh.

I hop in behind you, my lumbering legs awkward compared to the sultry grace of yours. I reach for the soap but you slap my hand and grab it yourself. You start working up a lather on me, quickly sliding your fingertips over every inch of my body. You know I'm already excited beyond the point of foreplay so your fingers work their magic half for cleaning, half for tantalizing.

"Mmmm . . ." I say every time your fingers soap up one of my intimate pleasure points. Within a minute you've made me say "Mmmm . . ." a dozen times.

When you have my body thoroughly lathered, you grab the shower head and aim it at my face, my chest, my back . . . rinsing my body section by section. The mixture of soap and sweat and dirt flows down my body, swirling for a moment as suds around your bare feet. We aren't even touching, yet those suds feel like an erotic, intimate connection between us.

When I am squeaky clean you place the bar of soap in my hands and arch your back, offering me your breasts. I soap you tenderly, joyfully, reveling in the thrill I feel whenever I touch you or even dream of touching you. I think it's my turn to stimulate you and I begin to work my soapy fingers slowly down your back. But suddenly you smack my hands, the soap sails through the steam and is immediately forgotten. You turn away from me and bend toward the shower head. You place one hand on the front wall of the shower stall. Your other hand reaches between your legs and grasps my hard member. Leaving no question about your intentions, you guide me to the lips of your moist entrance.

In the hour since my plane landed you haven't spoken a word, but as I stand poised to penetrate you I realize that words would only distract from this beautiful message you've choreographed. We want each other, and in that sacred moment we take each other. I grasp your hips and slip gently inside you. Your muscles clench tight about me, so tight that it takes several luxurious thrusts before I am completely embedded in you. While I work my way deeper, you place both hands against the shower stall and bend forward, fully offering your haunches to me.

As the shimmering water washes over us we relish each other's bodies. At this angle I'm exploring a point deep inside you that is seldom visited, and you're tilting your hips subtly to indulge that spot in all the attention it needs. I feel that I am in heaven, that I am experiencing the most perfect moment of my life. I feel like I'm maintaining a stead rhythm but that is a delusion; in reality I have been steadily speeding my pace. More and more of my muscles join the task as I give in to the need to put my full vigor into the lovemaking. I vaguely realize this perfection can't last much longer, but silly me doesn't know that you have plans beyond my imagination.

It takes me by surprise when the shower water suddenly shuts off and you pull away at just the right moment. You turn around to face me, somehow producing two towels in your hands. One towel you fling at me. With the other you dry my shoulders and it is clear that I am to dry your body in return. I begin to pad you gently, occasionally pressing my lips to sip a few drops of the delicious moisture from your skin.

Just as I think I understand my job you snatch the towel from my hand and spring into the bedroom. I follow cautiously, my erection a heavy load making my stride clumsy and a little humorous. You point to the bed and I immediately lie down on my side, gazing at you. You press my shoulder to put me squarely on my back, then step onto the bed and straddle my face.

My mouth reaches hungrily for you but you hover above me a few seconds, tantalizing me with your savory aroma. At last you grace those soft nether lips against my mouth. With the tip of my tongue I can sense your pleasure and my own lust becomes complete. My hands grasp your supple buttocks and my tongue penetrates you, seeking sweet nectar from its very source. I wonder if you can feel the tiny taste buds that are exploring you. Your hands clasp my head, guiding me for your pleasure, and I think to myself, 'Yes, she feels everything.'

Again I immerse myself in my role. My tongue laps playfully at your clit, knowing it will stimulate your body to produce more honey for me. When I can sense your juice flowing I work my lips down to drink it from you in tiny sips. I repeat this ritual numerous times, lick a while, sip a while, lick again, sip again. I would happily keep it up all night. But just as you reach the point of being more moist and delicious that you have ever been before, suddenly your inner thighs squeeze gently against my face and you rise slowly away from me. You inch down my body and lower your mouth to meet mine, and as we share that perfect sweetness lingering on my lips . . . you mount me.

You are so hot and wet that lightning bolts crash through me. Your hands press my firm chest to hold me down as you seek the perfect tempo of your pleasure. Your hips rise as fall as you ride me, feeling me, experiencing me, taking your ecstasy from me. Your pace grows steadily faster and more urgent as you draw me inside you. Without breaking the rhythm, you grasp my hands and place them on your breasts. To my palms they are perfect, warm and soft and jiggly. I play with your nipples and marvel as a fire radiates from them across your body.

You start moaning. I've heard your sexy moan before, but this sound is a wale of unearthly passion. It's coming from a private, unexplored place so deep inside you that it may never have been released before. The pressure in your core has long ago overwhelmed you, yet somehow it keeps building. In a desperate quest for relief you grind your clit frantically against my firm abdomen.

Here it comes . . .

As we reach our pinnacle together I am moaning in harmony with you. Writhing and bucking together, our formerly clean bodies are now drenched with sweat. We are both drained and thirsty. When you collapse against me our lips meet and we slake our thirst by kissing moisture from each other's mouths.

Of course we snuggle. Maybe we doze off together, both vaguely aware that I am still inside you. Time itself has the courtesy to wait for our bodies to catch up with reality. We oblige and close our eyes, listening to each other's pounding hearts and sighing breath.

Eventually I whisper, "Wow . . . Welcome to Las Vegas."

You put a finger across my lips to shush me, then you speak the only four words I hear from you. "Next time, Miami Beach."

THE END

Meeting Me at the Ritz



You met me at the Ritz where my firm was having a function. Dressed well in a suit which was tailored to your curves, the silk shell you were wearing enhanced the overall look hiding that which all the men in the room wanted to glimpse. The skirt, snug, and long had a slit on one side which revealed much of your leg when you walked, sat, and crossed your legs. The top, a single button holding it together, became a deep, deep V neck that you would not have dared to wear were you not covered by the light off white shell.

While I, and my clients and prospects, had the customary glasses of wine before the talk, you drank only soda with lime, being true to your promise to yourself, but wanting nonetheless for inhibitions to be lowered for the evening, and work to be... secondary. We each had a couple of glasses while chatting, my largest prospect chatting you up as I entertained my other clients knowing that you could hold your own. I put my arm around your waist and asked you how you were doing... "Just fine dear, enjoy yourself." and I kissed you on the cheek and patted your butt lightly before placing my hand just on the small of your back and continuing my conversation with the others.

Tonight, as you were in a mood, you had on no bra, and your hose were the type that required a garter belt rather than being 'thigh highs'. So, with nothing on but your suit, hose, shell, garter, shoes and jewelry, you felt naked to the world. As if, should you move just a touch, everyone could tell.

And then I asked, "Do you remember your promise?" 

"Yes."

"Then go take off your shell."

"I can't."

"Go, do as I ask."

"Yes......... Sir."

"Good."

As you walked away I smiled. You were being obedient, submissive, compliant. Knowing that I knew best what would work for you... for us. And that I would not overstep a boundary. And you trusted me in that.

Part 2

We couldn't help but notice when you came back in the room. While my back was toward you, my clients, and networking friends, all men, were facing your direction. The conversation went quiet for a moment and I knew what was happening but did nothing. 

When you got to us you slipped your arm into mine and reached up to give me a kiss on the cheek. Whispering to me "Is this what you wanted?"...

Without looking down I knew you'd done as I asked just by the reaction of everyone else in the room. "Yes, Michelle, thank you."

Only then did I turn and kiss your cheek, and pull you close to me, hugging you from the side, breathing in the floral scent of your hair. Knowing that you had obeyed me. That you had had to muster every ounce of trust and go against your grain in every conceivable way. I whispered back to you "I love you."

It was not just the swell of your breasts, unhindered by a bra and obviously full beneath the suit coat which just covered your nipples unless you moved, or bent down even a touch, which every one of the men noticed. It was the chain which they couldn't imagine where it was attached. The chain, silver in appearance, dangled tantalizingly from right to left a few inches below your breasts hanging there with no apparent support until one realized that it was either attached to the inside of your suit coat, or...

Part 3

Thomas offered "Michelle, would you like to sit?" not knowing our rule, that when you sit you're not allowed to 'fix' your skirt. Where it lies, it lies. 

Bowing to another tenet, that a lady should accept the invitations of a man graciously, "Thank you very much.' you replied and, knowing that the stool he proffered was tall and precarious and offered all kinds of options, each with its own opportunities, and difficulties, momentarily you closed your eyes, opened them again looking up at me knowingly, and with a soft kiss to my cheek moved to accept the stool. 

Climbing up you couldn't help but lean over a bit as you moved to sit, and as expected, this short moment opened up the jacket top ever so much revealing the connection of the chain to you nipples. If one wasn't quick he would never have seen it, but with 4 sets of eyes on you, you knew at least one pair had had his wish come true. Thinking about this, and momentarily forgetting the 'fix' rule, you crossed your legs and the skirt, so conservative when draped over you legs standing, now split to mid thigh revealing the darker top of your hose but not exposing your thigh itself making you feel nearly naked in front of so many men. Imperceptibly to the others, but noticed by me was the quick hesitation as you realized what you'd done and stopped yourself from moving the skirt to cover your now beautifully exposed legs. 

The stool being tall had your eyes at eye level for most of the men around you. However, for Thomas, who was much shorter at 5'6", his eyes were much closer to breast level and you could tell that he was just hoping that you'd make a slight move, reach down to fix your shoe, or lean forward when you laughed so he could glimpse your perfect breasts now known to be the anchor for the silver chain. He was thinking, as were all the men there, all wanting to unbutton your coat and fondle you, to play with those fabulous breasts, to kiss them, snuggle them, and to pull the chain.

Part 4

Conversation was light. The banter skipping over the obvious, that all the men there wanted not to make love, but to rut with you. To show that they were 'men', and that they could be as primitive as the first cave men stealing a wife from the neighboring tribe, conquering her and making her his own. But such is not the world we live in now. They couldn't just fight for your attentions. Craftily each one of them wondered what he'd have to do to take you from me, if only for an hour or two. 

The band playing was a good one and the songs lively until finally they played an old Righteous Brothers tune "Unchained Melody" and, sensing the irony of the name of this song and wanting to rescue you for a few moments, I took your hand and led you off the stool and onto the dance floor. Quietly you put your head on my chest and we danced, entwined with one another my right hand around your back and my left holding your right pressed up closely to your chest and as we danced you kissed my chest on top of my suit coat "Thank you, Robert". Your eyes closed, our moment.

"Unchained Melody" is normally not that long a song but the band, knowing their audience, stretched it out to a full 5 minutes, and in the middle of the second singing of the second verse, it happened. Thomas tapped my shoulder and asked "May I cut in?". Smiling, and kissing you on the cheek, I replied "Of course.", handed you to him and walked off the dance floor to the rest of our company...

Part 5

You stood there for a moment not realizing what had just happened, your focus having been so intently on the dance and our closeness. But, in that moment, Thomas noticed that the button on your jacket had come unfastened and you were essentially wearing an open vest with a chain hanging from your nipples still just barely hidden by the material. 

Being just below your height in flats, he was several inches shorter in the heels you were wearing that night and he took advantage of that difference immediately. Instead of the normal one arm around your back the other holding a hand as we were doing, he reached around you with both arms immediately leaving you no option but to put your arms around his neck while he nestled his head on your shoulder. When he did this he pulled your jacket just enough to uncover the clamps on your nipples, the ones to which the chain was attached. Your bare breasts now pressed next to him, your arms over his shoulders and his head below yours there was nothing you could do but dance where he took you. 

"Robert's truly a lucky man, Michelle." 

"Thank you, Thomas. I feel lucky to have him in my life."

As he chatted his hands dropped lower and pulled you closer to him wanting to have his leg between yours, to feel you as if the two of you were in bed together, and there was nothing you could do but to allow his advances waiting for the end of the song to come and be able to cover yourself again. You couldn't help however, your body's reactions to all the feelings and thoughts going through your head and you became very, very wet. This you noticed created its own problem. The wetter you were, the wetter you got. 

Thomas leaned back just a touch as if to talk to you face to face, but rather than say something, he looked down at your breasts exposed only to him as you danced. The chain dangled, moving left and right with the swaying of your bodies and the movement of your breasts now free from the jacket and any pressure of a body next to you swung tantalizingly back and forth. 

"Oh, my." you said "I should button my jacket." and started to pull your arms down to do just that when he pulled you close again not allowing you to manage this simple task. "Not yet... at the end of the song, please." 

What could you do? So you put your arms back around his shoulders and continued the dance. 

A moment later he shifted again. This time moving only slightly but taking his right hand and quickly running it up under your jacket where before, when he was patting the top of your buttocks he was at least not touching your skin. Now his hand was touching you, your skin, pulling you closer to him pressing you to his body as tightly as he could and again you felt naked, in a room full of people who had to be watching. And then, another shift, this time leaning back again he started to say something...

Lost in the dance, in your predicament, in your wetness, you didn't notice what he was doing or even hear what he said. It was as if you were in a trance when you felt the tug on your nipples. "Owww!" A quick, quiet recognition of the pulling on the chain. While the two of you were still dancing and what he was doing was not visible to anyone else on the dance floor you now knew what he had done. His finger looped under and then over the chain, he was pulling it downward pulling your nipples, stretching them while grinding himself into your crotch. Your eyes rolled up and you couldn't help the orgasm which shuddered through your body.

And then, almost as quickly as he had done this, the last chord of the song was played and "Unchained Melody" came to an end. He lingered for a moment smiling, pleased in his alpha male role for the moment, then let go. As he backed away to thank you for the dance, your jacket fell back into place and you quickly buttoned it up again and walked behind Thomas who'd left quickly, back to the stool where I waited for you with a kiss and a hug.

Part 5

"Did you enjoy your dance?" 

"Yes, only.... I need to excuse myself for a bit. Would you mind coming with me?"

"Of course." 

I said "Excuse us for a bit." to our company and you took my arm as we walked toward the restrooms which were quite a distance from the bar and dance floor. 

With both your arms holding mine you felt protected as we walked and I was proud to have you on my arm. "What's up, Sugarplum?"

"I am sooo wet. I couldn't possibly have sat without a major stain on my skirt and I'm so very horny right now I could fuck a buffalo." 

"Oh." I said quietly, and knowingly. 

The hallway to the restrooms is off the ballroom where we'd been enjoying the company of my friends and to the left quite a ways. But before one gets to the entrance to the restrooms, there are a series of smaller conference rooms off to the right. As we passed the first one I stopped and opened the door beckoning you in. Obediently you stepped through the open door. As the door closed we lunged at one another hugged tightly, kissing passionately, hungrily. Where before, outside, we were quiet, sophisticated, and demure, here we were animals in heat pawing one another unwilling to wait for the moment to mate. Needing one another NOW. 

"I need you inside me." was all I needed to hear. As you pulled my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my pants freeing my manhood, I stood holding your head. Quickly your mouth engulfed me and stroked me nearly to completion as I held you there. Then, just before my climax was a foregone conclusion, I pulled you up and turned you around pulling your skirt to one side the slit allowing it to fall off and expose your well lubricated lady. Bending you over a couch back there was no foreplay this time. No teasing, light touching, no soft kisses or tender caresses. There was entry and abandon. "Ummmm!" you cried as if you were biting your lip as I pushed quickly forward having no resistance and no need for extra lubrication. Sex this time was quick, merciless, animalistic and we both knew that it was just what we needed. Cumming quickly, the release was complete for both of us. I stayed deep inside of you for moments as we both were momentarily exhausted.

"Mmmm." 

I took a deep breath and exhaled before pulling back and after I had done that, you turned, fell to your knees again, and pulled me into your mouth. Our fluids were mixed together and you loved the flavor of 'us'. Sucking gently now, stroking me with your mouth, I couldn't help but smile. When you were done, you looked up at me, saw my smile, and smiled that satisfied, happy grin yourself, kissed the tip, and stood. As you did you gently replaced 'him' in my slacks and zipped them up all the while giving me a soft kiss your hands doing their work without you looking. It was a motion you were practiced at and one which I enjoyed thoroughly.

When you were done and your skirt returned to its proper alignment, we left the conference room and walked down the corridor your arms again linked in mine and I walking proudly with you at my side. "I so love you." you whispered to me as we walked. A quick kiss on your cheek "I love you too, Michelle."

Part 6

When we reached the restrooms you gave me yet another kiss and, as you did, I looped the chain in my finger and gave a light pull. Your kiss became stronger and, as your lips pressed harder on my own, I pulled tighter and tighter until your body stiffening with excitement and you were sure the clamps would snap off. Backing away I lightened up the pressure and when you gave me a second, quick kiss, I let go completely. "God, you make me so hot."

Checking yourself out as you entered the ladies room you were pleased with what you saw. Your hair in place, your suit smart and, since there was really nothing else that you had on, there was nothing else to wrinkle. The only touching up that was necessary was your lipstick most of which was now gone and somewhere on my body. Your breasts formed beautifully under the Armani jacket you'd found for less than a hundred dollars at the consignment shop. And the chain... 

It was the chain that kept your attention. It had started out so innocuous. Playful. You'd let me know how much you enjoyed having your nipples pinched and pulled, sucked on and even bitten lightly as our foreplay progressed. I'd had the idea that, if you liked it so much when we were in private, how would you react to have your nipples pinched surreptitiously when we were in public. 

"I can't do that!" You remembered yourself saying to me when I showed you the device. And now, having had two of the most powerful orgasms of your life in one evening, you wondered how you could ever have questioned my idea. It was with this thought, and the smile which seemed never to leave your face now, that you went into your private booth and cleaned 'her' up. 

Even this simple act was one which kept the smile going. You noticed that fiery patch of red hair that adorned her. You've always loved that patch and were happy when I told you to leave it. That I preferred seeing the red to having her shaved closely like a prepubescent girl. It was just another thing that you had come to appreciate about me and it seemed like there were so many. 

As you cleaned up, memories of our short relationship flooded your mind. How quickly we became involved. The first weekend when, standing at the top of the stairs in Charleston, you first laid eyes on me and your reaction was to freeze. My coming up the stairs to greet you, and that first hug and kiss. The one which you thought would never end. Holding each other firmly not wanting to let go. The second date where, for 9 days, it was like a Disneyland of love. Everything perfect and a fantasy world where you had both the attention that you so desired and the creativeness which allowed you to surprise me in your corset and heels in the first dinner you ever prepared for me. It had been an unbelievable story so far and one which you couldn't imagine your family, or friends, or even your best girlfriend understanding. And the love making, the wildness of impromptu sex, the games played both at home and out. It was truly all a fantasy come true. 

And you lost yourself in those thoughts as you were cleaning her up. Touching yourself with the memories. Pleasuring yourself without even knowing that you were in that dream world now. Faster and faster you circled her altering the pressure, shifting your legs for better access. And then it happened again... 

Your legs buckled and you had to sit for a moment and compose yourself. Oh my God. How can this be happening to me? Again. He's not even in here with me and I'm sooooo... what? Touched? In love/lust? Excited? That's it. Excited. Oh my God, he excites me so. 

Part 7 

"Oh snap!" 

You realized you'd been in the stall for too long now, enjoying yourself, reflecting on our history and the amazing experience it had all been. And now you'd left me standing outside waiting. And you knew that, while I'm a patient man, I don't like to wait too long. That while I expect you to take longer than me freshening up, this time you'd gone too far. Even that wouldn't have been cause for concern but there had been another rather innocuous event earlier when you'd questioned one of my choices and voiced your objection a touch too strenuously. I'd allowed you to 'win' but it was there in the background and you knew the win was hollow. That the incident was stored and this seemingly minor transgression might result in punishment.

Punishment. Could it really be called that? When one derives pleasure out of certain applications of pain, like the pinching of your nipples when you're in the throes of making love, or a spanking when you're on the bottom doggystyle. Is that really punishment? Is it punishment when you're made to do something out of the box? Where, when that happens, you have an experience which ultimately tittlizes you? Excites you? Opens up new avenues for pleasure that previously you would never have considered? Was it really punishment when you looked forward to that which I thought up knowing it would be different? Out of the realm of your imagination? 

So now, even though there was a tinge of fear, there was also a hint of excitement as you dabbed yourself off, freshened your perfume, spraying your hair with the floral scent you were known for, and straightened out your skirt. 

Coming out of the restroom, I was waiting. You couldn't tell, was I upset or not? Was there going to be a reprimand? 

And the answer came after you kissed me quickly on the cheek and went to hold my hand. 

Non-verbal communication. That's what the professionals call it. When one doesn't have to say what's on their mind and another knows what's there. It can be the way one crosses their arms when listening another, protecting themselves from the conversation. Or a smile when greeting an old friend, or lover. A wink across the floor of a dance hall letting him know you're interested. In our case we've many non-verbal signals. When you lower your head and look up to me much like a scolded dog does, wanting not to have upset their owner. I'm always touched by that one. When your face contorts when I hit 'that' spot, and your orgasm is uncontrollable. When I get quiet and you know I'm thinking about something, whether it's something about us, or about the office, it's something that is consuming me for the moment and you know not to interrupt. I'll come out of it and we can then always talk.




Meeting Me at the Ritz Ch. 02



This is the second installment of 'Meeting Me at the Ritz'... it's better read after reading the first. We continue as Michelle, the redhead has just been (wo)man-handled by The Reverend's wife while sitting at the bar. After reading, I encourage you to vote on my writing, and to comment if it so pleases you. 

*

"You're welcome, Honey. Now, if I may?" and she nodded to your lap, her hand still clenched there by the power of your thighs, her finger still slightly inside of you, her palm covering the red patch of pubic hair you were so proud of. 

"Oh." and you loosened your grip on her. She pressed her finger against you one more time before sliding it up 'her' crevice and out. You wondered what she'd do now and that question was answered quickly as she took her moistened finger and put it to her mouth. Pulling it in her full, brightly colored lips covering it completely and sucking on it before sliding it out pulling her slightly with it, you imagined her giving head. How good those lips must feel around a man's penis, or, in the case of a dominant man, his cock.

It was interesting how much difference a word made you thought. Penis/cock, they both referred to the same part of a man's anatomy but they were very, very different. While a penis was nice, and every man had one of varying size, length, hardness, and stamina, not all men had a cock. That was much different. 

A cock was a tool. It was something to be admired, something that was altogether different. Much like the sword of a samurai warrior it was unique. Stronger, more powerful, feared and respected. It was a symbol of the man behind it. While the size, and shape might be the similar to other men's, the man wielding such a tool made all the difference. He was masterful. He used his mastery both to subdue, and to lead those he came in touch with. Those he commanded. "Yes." you thought, those he commanded. For even those that were not aware of your personal relationship, any submissive's relationship to her master, even those were somehow under his command. They were aware without knowing what it was that drew them to him. He, himself, held the power. And you were addicted to that power.

Just then you felt something at your lips. It was Michelle's other finger. Her long, black, index finger perfumed with your own juices. You smelled it just before she touched it to your lips which, unlike hers, were painted a much softer color. A light pink tonight. You'd been careful to chose this color, and to apply it the way I liked -- not to thick, just reaching the edges of your nearly perfect lips. And you opened up your mouth... a bit more than it needed to be opened for her finger, like her finger was my cock entering your mouth, you let it slide in and then pressed your lips to it holding it there while your tongue did it's magic. Pulling on it slightly you swirled your tongue around the finger, cupping it and then circling it. You reached up and held her wrist steady as you made love briefly to her finger finally pulling it out of your mouth and kissing it lightly. 

"Mmmmm, mmm, girl. You got it bad!" "He's a lucky man... and you, I'm thinking... you're a pretty happy girl."

Part 9

The Reverend Jerome asking "How are you girls doing?" broke the trance you were in and brought you back to the situation. Here you were at the Ritz bar, your skirt draped down along with the sides of your suit coat nearly all of you frontally exposed. In fact the only things covering you were a small part of your coat where it was buttoned and the waist of your skirt which hid the garter though the straps on top of your thighs were clearly visible for a couple of inches, and the chain. The chain, which covered nothing, but said volumes about you. About you and I. And about our connection. 

Discreetly you picked up the napkin laying on the counter and shifted it into your lap covering you there where the rule about shifting your skirt kept you from lifting to move it in order to provide some modesty. 

"We're doing well, Reverend. Your wife and I are enjoying getting to know one another. "

"Well, watch yourself." he responded "She can be a bit of a handful." 

"You have no idea who's the handful." you thought to yourself. "Thanks for the warning, I'll watch myself."

"Well, with that, I think I'll excuse myself for a moment." Michelle said as she got up to head to the ladies room "You coming dear?"

A thought in your head told you that I wanted you to stay and, not being sure, you took the safer route. "No thank you, Michelle. I'm fine."

"OK girl. Behave yourself now."

"Oh my God." you thought, if she only knew how well you'd been behaving yourself tonight. How each of the incidents of the evening were of you being mindful of your promises and our agreements. How, where before meeting me, each of these things were fantasies but now becoming realities in your life, both on daily basis, but more so on those special occasions when we went out for 'fun'. How tonight all the things that had happened, including her opportunity to explore your flame red patch, were aspects of you being a 'good girl'. 

You looked around. Where was I? You were now alone with the Reverend Jerome DuToit it seemed. Oh, yes, you'd sort of overheard me saying that I had to make a quick call when Michelle was removing her finger from your mouth. That meant I'd have gone outside since the band was still playing. 

"It seems we're alone now. Would you like to dance?"

Thinking it would get you off the stool and your current predicament with your skirt you replied "Sure. I'd enjoy that." 

The Reverend, he liked being called The Reverend, led you to the dance floor. As it happened the song the band was playing was a Barry White tune. Even without a man around Barry White stirred something up in you. His voice, baritone, soft, compelling reached deep inside of you and, if you closed your eyes, you could imagine him singing just to you. An audience of one. The song was one which wasn't fast, but it wasn't really slow either and you wondered how The Reverend would want to dance. Part of you hoped it would be apart, for you enjoyed the energy of fast dancing but part of you knew that wouldn't be a good idea. The singular button on your coat would most likely unbutton itself leaving you, and your chain, exposed to the entire dance floor and you'd have to act as if nothing had happened until the end of the song, your breasts bouncing with the music, the chain flailing around, a silver 'Here I am!" piece of jewelry that would stop conversations and have people turn to watch.

No, that would not do. So, as soon as you got to the dance floor, you put your arms around him and started the dance. The Reverend was a large man. His build the powerful build of an athlete but his days of playing ball at the college level were long gone. He'd put on weight. A lot of it. Still at 6'4" and nearly 300 pounds he was a force to be reckoned with. You placed your hand in his and it was smothered. There was no way you could even hold his hand, it was like grabbing onto the trunk of an oak tree. But he moved with the grace of a professional. His steps light, knowing. He led you around the dance floor as if you'd been with him your entire adult life. 

Maybe it was Barry White, maybe it was the comfort with which you were dancing with this powerful man, but what you were sure of was that your eyes were closed and you were lost in the music when you took his hand, the one holding yours and pulled it close to your chest. He didn't resist this move at all. Rather he pulled you closer to him. His right arm around your waist and his left now cradled in yours the backside of it touching the side of your right breast. 

His girth was something you couldn't get used to. Your arm reached only part way around his back and it was hard for you to reach the top of his shoulder, but in the moment it was just possible. The muscles of his shoulders were still huge. As you danced in this fashion it happened again. The button holding your jacket together popped and the jacket spread open. Not to worry though, draping down it hid your hand holding his close to you and no one else could see. 

And Barry was singing.

Lost in the song, lost in the dance, lost in your nakedness under the open jacket, you were in your own heaven. Not thinking rationally, rather being primal in the moment, you let go of his hand and turned his around pressing it against your breast, holding him there tightly. Thinking to yourself how small you must feel compared to his wife. 

You'd always been proud of your breasts. "The girls." you called them, and you pampered them. Massaging them throughout the day, putting lotion on them in the evenings. Large for a slender girl like you, they were nothing like The Reverend must be used to with his Michelle. Still, you knew how much men had enjoyed whenever you'd allowed them to play with the girls. 

And now, on the dance floor of the Ritz Carlton, you were inviting a stranger to do just that. To play with the girls for the rest of the dance. How could he resist? 

He didn't. Holding your breast firmly at first, his hand pressed against your chest for the first moments, he then began to squeeze and knead it. It was as if he was trying to milk your luscious orb. He ignored the clamp that was there at first preferring to squeeze with his palm, fingers and thumb all involved. Then he reached down to where the clamp was holding tightly to your nipple and he did something completely unexpected. He took it off! 

Blood rushed into the pinched nipple and the feeling was incredible. Almost as painful as when the clamps were applied the feeling was intense and all consuming. But only for a moment, for then he began to pinch. to roll your now engorged nipple between his huge thumb and the knuckle of his index finger. The pain was almost too much for you and your knees began to buckle. He loosened his grip on your nipple and held you up with his other arm but that had his body come closer to yours still and now you could feel his manhood against you. 

This was a feeling you'd always enjoyed. Having men hard against you. It was a place when you were young that was a place of power for you. You could control them with this knowing that you owned that which they desired. You could play with them. Little toys for you.

But that was before you'd met me. Before you met a man that you truly wanted, and wanted to please. No longer in control you were surprised with how much you liked your place as my lady. How serving me had you more fulfilled than any place you'd ever been before in your life. How natural it felt. 

But now it was confusing. Were you in the hands of a man you could play with, or a man who'd play with you? The answer came quickly. Neither. You were mine having given yourself to me, and you'd do whatever it took to please me. So now, dancing with The Reverend, and knowing that it was a night that I'd chosen to allow you to have fun while pleasing me, you reached down with your free hand and held 'him'. 

Quickly, while The Reverend was enjoying the moment and his pinching had stopped and returned to the simple kneading of your breast, you unzipped his slacks and slipped your hand inside both his slacks and the boxers he was wearing. 

"Good God girl!" was all he could get out before he came. Unlike the fantasy of black men, his penis was of average size and girth. His stamina was even less. However the amount of semen that erupted from him was a quantity that you'd never experienced. Again and again you felt the hardening and softening of his penis as he erupted over and over. His cum dripped down your hand inside of his boxers and coated the outside of your fist around him. His grip loosened on your breast and back and you thought "Oh no. I can't hold him up should his knees give way!" But they didn't. You were safe.

Removing your hand from his slacks you generously pulled his zipper up and then raised your hand again to hold his. Slick with his cum you turned your hands around, the back of yours now against your own breast wiping the cum on it as was your habit. You loved men's sperm on your body and this was no exception. 

The song ended. Quickly you buttoned your coat and the two of you left the dance floor. This time though there was no chain between your breasts, it was dangling from the one clamp on our right nipple. And, as it swayed underneath your coat, it was pleasantly painful there. 

I'd returned from my phone call and was waiting for you when you and The Reverend came and sat down.

"Have fun?"

The Reverend answered "Certainly did. Your lady's a most enjoyable partner."

"Yes, she is. And, I know she loves Barry White. He puts her in a completely different space when she's out there. Occasionally she can be a bit to handle."

"Well, I wouldn't know that. We just danced the one song, and it was a slow one. She handled me pretty well." A twinkle in the big man's eye as he said this.

It was then that I whispered to you "Your chain seems to be missing."

"Oh." you replied, whispering in my ear, and reached inside the jacket for the dangling end. "Would you like to replace it for me?" 

I took the proffered clamp, moving slightly in front of you respecting the fact that we were very much in public, and while your surreptitious exhibitionism was most pleasing, overtly handling you in front of others was not part of our life. I pressed on the ends opening it up and then reached into the other side of your jacket. Holding your breast in my left hand, squeezing it slightly to make your nipple stand out, I reattached the clamp. 

A shot of pleasant pain shot through you as the pressure pinched your nipple once again.

"I think, Reverend, that it's time for us to go." 

The Reverend's wife, Michelle had returned as well and was now holding onto his arm. Quite a couple. "Y'all have a good evening now." she said as we returned the well wishes and turned to leave. 

On the way out, holding one another around the waist, we stopped in the lobby for an impromptu twirl and a kiss. "Did you have fun, Michelle?"

"It was over the top, Robert. Over the top. I've never been so wet, so excited, so turned on in my entire life. I can't imagine what we'll ever do to top this."

The doorman opened the lobby doors and we stepped out into the cool spring air. A beautiful evening - an exception in Sarasota's typically warm, humid climate. My car, an NSX, what I called a Ferrari that works, exceptionally low to the ground and incredibly fast was pulled up to the front gleaming silver and black, it's exhaust humming powerfully as the valet opened your door.

"M'aam."

You smiled as you turned to sit down, knowing that this movement, sitting down, was going to expose your breasts, clamped together with the silver chain, once more. And that your flame red patch would also most likely be briefly visible. Sitting softly and, perhaps taking a moment longer than needed before twisting your amazing legs into the car, you replied "Thank you."

I tipped the other valet who closed my door, and we motored off into the night.

"Oh my God, Robert." you said as you leaned over to kiss me once again. "Oh, my God that was fun."

*

Again, dear readers, I hope you've enjoyed my story. Please take the time to vote on it - that gives me the feedback I desire to write more, and perhaps better, stories. Your comments are also welcome. 



Meeting Me at the Ritz



But tonight it was holding hands. When we took each other's hand I squeezed just a little more than usual. It was a subtle signal. There was no pain involved, just recognition between the two of us. No one else would have noticed, but you knew, and I knew now that you knew, that you'd lingered too long, and that there would be consequences...

Part 8

We returned to the ball room and danced slowly to the song that was being played. Your head on my chest and shoulder, an arm around each other's back, and the hands which were holding one another tucked in close, you pulling my hand and arm as close to me as possible as if to say "I know, and I'm sorry." We'd not said a word since leaving the restrooms and yet it was often times like this, when no words were spoken, that we were closest, as if our energies, your yin to my yang, were in perfect alignment and we were one. 

The song ended and we returned to the end of the bar where Thomas had left as well as another couple of prospective clients who had already told me that they had pressing engagements for dinner. This left only you, me, and the Reverend Jerome DuToit, a powerfully built, and well connected black minister from the Newtown District of Sarasota, and his wife, another Michelle. 

Michelle was, like her husband, dressed to kill. One of those black women who were very proud of their bodies, hers was one which was exaggerated everywhere. Large hips, an almost wasp like waist, and bosoms which looked like they could nurse whole villages of children. So, while you were incredibly sexy in your suit and more than a bit vampish with the plunging neckline and chain, she never considered you 'competition'. Her world was hers and she knew it. 

I'd asked the Reverend to join us today since I was working on creating a partnership with a black entrepreneur with whom I wanted an introduction. His business was one of managing young athletes and he'd made a small name for himself as such and his star was definitely one which was rising. I knew the program at the Ritz that day would be one that the Reverend would appreciate and felt that this time after the presentation would be a good time to get his approval and help. 

I had told you before about this opportunity and how much of a difference it would make to my business.... our business, since, after you moved down from Connecticut, you considered yourself a part of my life in every aspect and felt that you were truly a partner in this and every other area. 

When you sat down it was next to Michelle and the two of you chatted quietly facing the bar while the Reverend Jerome and I 'bonded'. 

"You're so pretty honey!" Michelle said to you, "I just love your red hair, and your eyes are to die for. God, sometimes I wish I were born a white woman. I'd work that body.. mmmm, mmm."

"Now don't go gettin me wrong, honey, I LOVE being black. It's just sometimes I'd love to try the other side of the track. You know what I mean Honey?"

You smiled a smile that said it all. Here's a woman you could relate to. Out there, straight, blatant and in your face open. Yes m'aam. Here was a woman to be dealt with. Strong and magnetic. And then when she put her hand on your leg where your skirt had opened up baring the firm flesh of your thigh just above the hose when she talked to you, you shivered just a touch. 

"I've always wondered, Honey. On a redhead like you, does the carpet match the drapes, or do the shades not match? You can tell me Honey, I won't tell a soul." 

"Oh my God. Did she really ask me that?" The thought raced through your head and, without censuring yourself, before you knew it you replied... "Well, if this skirt rides up any further, you'll know the answer for yourself!" 

"Now wouldn't that be something?" she said as her hand slipped further up your leg moving the skirt up with it. Facing her slightly you uncrossed your legs and then it happened. Your skirt was nothing more than a drape on the sides of your body hanging freely completely exposing you in front, but with only one person who could see. Michelle and you were on the corner of the bar she just to your left and both of you facing the bar itself. "Mmmm, mmm. Now isn't that pretty!"

"Do you mind if I touch that?"

You breathed in deeply as she was closer to 'her' than any woman had ever been. Her right pinky grazing the flame red of your neatly trimmed pubic hair. And the thought raced through your head again... "Oh, my God! This can't be happening. So much has happened already tonight." And you were wet. So very, very wet. You couldn't even answer, just lowered your head in a sign of submission and looking up at her with your amazingly beautiful eyes. Touching your tongue to your upper teeth and lip lightly, a small nod was all she needed and her hand slipped between your legs now opened even more. Not obscenely so, but enough to allow access. "Oh." Your body tightened as she cupped 'her' and tensed even more as her finger slid up and down slipping just a touch inside of you. 

Your body straightened up, erect. Your eyes wide open, searching her face for some sort of sign. Something that would tell you what was going on. Only she just looked at you and her finger worked back and forth. Your legs involuntarily squeezed together holding her there as you had yet another intense orgasm. "Oh.... oh...ohhhh."

Her hand stayed there for as you were squeezing her so tightly that there was no way it could move. Your body shuddered, and again it shuddered, and again.

"Was that good, Honey?" Michelle asked as your grip loosened and she pulled her hand away.

It took you a moment before you could answer. "I never....." and couldn't finish the sentence.

"Tha's alright, Honey. You just take a moment and we'll chat."

You took a moment, closed your eyes and breathed deeply. In that short moment you relived the entire experience. Her hand on your thigh, the blackness of her hand contrasting with the tan you'd applied that morning yourself. The amazement that it was a woman touching your leg and your thoughts freezing in the moment when she asked her question "Do you mind if I touch that?" It seemed like that question hung in your mind forever, repeating itself over and over "Do you mind if I touch that?" And then the touch. The grazing next to 'her' and the tingling feeling both between your legs and the tightening of the rest of your body. And then the rest. Her hand holding 'her' her finger sliding first to feel the wetness and then to press into you, the pressure perfect for your orgasm. Your legs clamped tightly around her hand not allowing her to take it away, her finger jammed into you as your legs literally pulled her even closer. All of that in just the moment your eyes were closed. And then you relaxed having shuddered once more.

"I'm OK now."

"Thank you.... for everything."



Meeting Mel: The Beginning



This is the first of several chapters in my first attempt at writing a novella. It is a bit lengthy but I wanted to try and bring my characters to life. I hope that you enjoy and post feedback after your read! And thanks to my beautiful wife Kristi for her patience in reviewing my work and offering suggestions for improvements. I love you Baby!!

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Another Friday has finally arrived! That means the weekend is almost here. Only ten more hours and my vacation starts! WOOHOO! I’ve been looking forward to this for nearly a month and my nerves are a good indicator that I’m desperately in need of the time off.

So as I’m waking up, I feel something moving down towards the middle of my body. And it feels pretty damn good! Peeling the covers back, I find my lovely wife, Kristi, performing her favorite trick to wake me up: Gently licking on my morning “wood” and seeing how long she can do it without waking me up. She never makes it more than a few minutes but she does enjoy trying!

Now that I’m awake though, she laughs and climbs on. It’s only a few seconds until she is wet and my hardness is inside of her. She moves herself up and down, slowly at first and then faster and faster until she reaches her peak and screams out as pleasure envelopes her. Then, as is her usual ritual, she climbs off and grabs hold of my penis and frantically strokes it until I reach my own pleasure, allowing my seed to flow freely into her open mouth. A deep, passionate kiss that allows our tongues to intertwine for several moments ensues. Another Friday has begun!

As Kristi jumps into the shower and begins to prepare for work, I climb out of bed and perform my morning rituals. Having used the toilet and brushed my teeth, I pad to the kitchen and drink several glasses of water. This done, I head back into the bedroom to dress for my daily trip to the gym.

“Honey, do you have any plans for after work?” asks my wife. She does this every week even though she’s well aware that I don’t get off work until ten o’clock at night. As usual, I reply that I’ll probably go over to my girlfriends house and spend the night but should be home early the next morning. I also ask if she wants to do something after I get home.

“Oh, I don’t know. I was thinking that if you’re not too tired, maybe we could head down to The Brewery and have a few drinks. It’d be a fun way to start our vacation.”

The Brewery is our favorite microbrewery. Friday nights they have a band that plays until closing and we can usually find some friends hanging out. Ordinarily a game or two of pool commences and we all get good and drunk until they shoo us out of the place. Now and then the party continues at our house with several couples coming over to relax in the spa and have a few more drinks. On more than one occasion this has led to some wild times between all of us.

I told her that I’d call her during my shift and let her know how I was feeling. As I was ready to go, I reached into the shower room and gave her a quick kiss good-bye. Before I returned from the gym, she would be gone to her office and dealing with the normal childhood problems and anxious parents that her job as a pediatrician brings.

I went out through the garage and opened the door to my city car. In this case, it’s a police car. In our city, we’re allowed to bring our patrol cars home as long as we live within the city limits. The city also encourages us to use them for short trips around town so as to provide more of a police presence. Whether this has any effect on crime or not I don’t know. But it does save a little on gas and makes the neighbors feel safer.

I leave the house and head to the gym. It only takes a few minutes although I must pass through two school zones. This usually isn’t a problem as I enjoy waving to the kids as they point and shout. In my mind they are shouting good things though I’m afraid to roll down the windows and hear what they are actually saying.

Reaching the gym, I go inside and make small talk with Linda, the counter girl. She’s quite attractive and on more than one occasion I’ve fantasized about the things we could do together. She’s quite a bit younger than me and is a true hard body. Aside from me being a cop, I don’t have a chance and I know it. But she loves to chat and always has a question or two about what she terms “cop stuff”.

After a few minutes, I head over to the elliptical trainers. I used to run several miles a day on the treadmill but recently switched to the trainers after a minor injury to my knee. I’m not one hundred percent convinced that the workout is the same but I do enjoy it and it doesn’t hurt my knee.

Putting on my MP3 player, I get started for a hard forty-five minute workout. I try to push myself and do more than the day before. Today my goal is to do eight thousand steps in the forty-five minutes, which is roughly equivalent to four miles. It’s an ambitious goal but I’ll do my best to get there.

I quickly lose myself in the music and am happily strolling along at a pretty good pace. I get into a rhythm and can feel my pulse rising as sweat starts to form on my brow. This is going to be a great workout and I think that I’ll easily make my goal.

I open my eyes and look around the gym. The regulars are there and I smile at a few acquaintances who return the greeting. After four years of coming here, I know most of the patrons who come in at this time. I know most by name and a few of them have been over to the house for drinks before.

Then I notice someone I’ve only seen a couple of times and wish I’d see more often. She’s a tall redhead with an incredibly sexy body. I haven’t been close to her before but I can tell that she’s about six foot. She also had long red hair, nearly to her waist that she wears straight and in a long ponytail that comes out of a woman’s ball cap. She is slightly chubby but has curves in all of the right places. She’s got a slight belly, which is incredibly sexy on her tall frame and hips that are perfect (in my mind) for holding onto and thrusting deeply! She also has the longest legs that I’ve ever seen on a woman and I can imagine them wrapping around my back with plenty to spare.

I usually think of her as “Red” since I don’t know her name. At least that’s what I call her in my private pleasure times. And Red is often the object of fantasies during such times. Watching her and thinking about all that I’d like to do with and to her is starting to cause a slight bulge in my shorts. I quickly look away and divert my attention to the sports channel on the television.

I sneak an occasional glance at Red and notice that she knows quite a few people. I also notice that quite a few people, men and women, are sneaking glances at her as she makes her way around the gym. I start to wonder about some of the women whom I’ve had occasion to wonder about before when I’ve seen them checking each other out. 

I try to get back into the music and pick up my pace. Twenty-five minutes down and I’ve slowed down considerably. I’ll have to really work to make my goal but I don’t think I have it in me today. I renew my resolve to come as close as possible and pick up the pace even faster, tuning out the distractions around me.

Thirty-five minutes down now and only ten to go. My pace is quite rapid, almost a run (or as close as you can get on an elliptical machine) and with a little luck, I will make my goal after all. By this time I’m covered in sweat and my shirt is soaked. I grab a quick drink from my sports bottle, towel off my head and keep going.

Only two minutes left and I am going to make it. It feels good although somewhere in my mind I can hear myself thinking that tomorrow I’ll have to do better. I push this aside and keep striding, keeping a close eye on the machines monitors. Only one more minute and one hundred and twenty paces to go to get there. At my current pace of one eighty-five, I’ll easily make it plus a few. 

Finally time is reached and the machine goes into the cool down phase. I’ve made eight thousand and thirty-seven steps. Goal accomplished! I’m pleased with myself for working so hard and thinking about how, for being thirty-six, I’m still in pretty good shape. Not the shape I was in during my pro football days but I’ve never lost a suspect in a foot chase.

Finishing the cool down, I step off the machine and drain my sports bottle. I towel off a bit and head for the locker room to shower before heading home. I can’t stand getting into my patrol car all sweaty and stinking knowing that I’ll be spending ten hours there later in the day. I’ve driven home before all sweaty but had to wipe down my seat with a cleaner before going to work. Kristi says that I’ve got issues with cleanliness. She’s smarter than I am so she might be right. Either way, today I’m going to shower before I leave.

Walking across the gym towards the locker room, I chat with a few of the regulars. Some know what I do for a living and want to know how business is. I tell a couple of stories and promise to catch up another time. There are a couple of people who are the mothers of Kristi’s patients and they inquire about her. I catch them up with the latest and continue on my way to the showers.

I get in the shower and the warm water feels good pouring over me. I soap myself to clean away the sweat and as I do, my thoughts turn to Red. This is a precarious situation as I can easily get aroused thinking about her and the things I’d like to do with and to her. I can feel myself begin to get hard and quickly turn the water all the way cold to avoid any embarrassment. It works, for the time being, but I know that when I get home I’m going to indulge those thoughts and enjoy a long session of private pleasure.

Getting out of the shower, I towel off and quickly dress. Making sure that I’ve got everything, I pick up my bag and get ready to leave. I walk towards the desk to sign out and catch myself looking around for a final glimpse at Red. I don’t see her and assume that she must’ve left already. I feel a slight disappointment but not too much as I know that soon I’ll be able to enjoy her in the comfort of my own house.

At the desk, Linda smiles at me and inquires about my workout. She applauds my success at achieving my goal and we share a laugh together. I tell her to have a great day and move towards the door to leave.

“Larry,” she calls, “I have something for you.” Puzzled, I turn around. Linda is smiling broadly yet blushing a little at the same time. I return to the desk and inquire about what she has.

“You know that tall redhead who was here a little while ago? Well, on her way out she asked me to give you this,” Linda said as she handed me a piece of paper that was folded in half. I unfolded it and found a neatly written note inside. The note said that she’d seen me working out and would like to talk to me. It had a phone number and said that she’d be home all day and to call whenever I had the time. It was signed Love, Mel.

I looked at Linda who was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. I guess that I had a puzzled look on my face because she said, “What’s the matter Larry? Haven’t you ever had a strange woman want to jump your bones?” I think I blushed ten shades of red at this because Linda started laughing at me. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks as the blush worked its way up my face.

I couldn’t believe what I’d read! I looked the note over several time to be sure that I read it correctly. Each time that I re-read it the result was the same. Red, or rather Mel, wanted to talk to me and asked that I call her at home. I didn’t know whether to be excited or scared. I was used to women being tuned on by my uniform and throwing themselves at me but this was the first time in years that this had happened away from work.

I looked back at Linda who was still smiling from ear to ear. Apparently she found my uneasiness to be humorous. I must have stood there staring at her for several minutes before she broke the silence and asked if I was going to call her. 

“I don’t know,” I replied. And I didn’t. It was true that I’d love to spend a few hot and steamy hours with the beautiful woman but I was married. Surely if she had talked to Linda about me even a little, this would have been mentioned. Maybe she didn’t care. Maybe it didn’t matter because I sure wasn’t going to ruin my marriage for the chance to act out my fantasies about her. 

I slowly left the gym and walked to my car. I was in a kind of daze as the past few minutes had caught me off guard. This was something I hadn’t expected in a million years yet it was happening here and now. I was so amazed by the whole thing that I couldn’t think straight.

I got in my car and headed home. My mind was spinning and replaying the events of the last few minutes and when I arrived in my driveway, I wasn’t even sure how I’d got there. Hopefully I’d obeyed all of the traffic laws. If not I was sure that I’d hear about it later. People tend to get upset when the police don’t obey the laws that they enforce and are quite eager to let the Department know about it.

I walked into the house and saw the answering machine blinking. Pressing play, I heard Kristi’s voice reminding me that I needed to pick up my uniforms at the dry cleaners today. I was glad that she’d remembered since I’d forgotten all about it. I called her private office number and, for a change, caught her in her office.

“Hi babe, how’s my favorite doctor?” I teased her. Not one to let a good opportunity pass her by, she answered with, “Sorry sir, you must have the wrong number. This is not the proctologists office.” We burst out laughing together and I complimented her on her wit. The good thing about my wife is that she always keeps me laughing.

“How was the gym?” she asked. I paused and considered how to tell her about the gym. I knew that she wouldn’t be upset as we have a fairly liberal relationship, especially where sex is concerned. Plus she’s always pointing out women that are checking me out. She finds it hilarious and teases me about it all the time. 

“Well honey,” I began, “something strange happened today. Do you have a few minutes?”

She must have heard something in my tone as she didn’t answer for several moments. I wondered if she was upset or maybe distracted. I sat and waited in silence. Finally she said that she did have a few minutes and to go ahead.

“Okay, here goes. You remember that redhead I told you about? The tall one with the long red hair?” 

“Yeah, I remember. The one you call Red during your private times?”

How the hell did she know that? I was sure that I hadn’t mentioned that to her. I made a mental note to ask her about it later. Now though, I needed to get out the mornings events.

“Well, I saw her at the gym this morning. I was on the elliptical trainer when she walked in and I couldn’t help but notice her. When I finished working out I took a shower and she was gone when I got out. But she left a note for Linda to give to me.”

“I see,” she said. “And what did the note say?”

I read her the note. Word for word. Then I waited to hear what she thought. Knowing my wife the way I do, I knew that she’d tell me exactly what she thought.

“That’s funny honey,” I heard her say. Not exactly what I thought but at least she wasn’t mad. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” I quickly asked. I know that we have a pretty open relationship but this was far out even for us. Our extracurricular activities, as we refer to them, have been wild at times but we’ve never done anything solo. It’s always been together as a couple. This was unchartered territory where we’re concerned.

“Are you going to call her?” came the reply. I literally took the phone away from my ear and looked at it. What the hell was going on here? Was she giving me permission to call this woman and get together with her?

“Are you saying that I should?” I asked. My question was met with silence for a few moments.

“Yes, I think that you should call her and see what she wants,” Kristi replied. “Maybe she found out that you’re a cop and just wants some advice about something.”

I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe this was all innocent. Maybe I’d read into the whole thing and let my imagination run away with me. It had happened before.

I was curious though. How far was my wife willing to go with this. “What if she just wants to get me into bed and have her way with me?” I teased. 

“Then we’ll just have to do something about that, won’t we?” I was taken with surprise again. This was something that we’d discussed and agreed would never happen. It just didn’t fit into our overall lifestyle and we weren’t comfortable with the idea of playing without both of us being involved.

“So are you saying that if she wants me to come over and pleasure her for a few hours that I should head right over?” 

She laughed. “No silly, I’m saying that you should call her and find out what she wants. Once you know that then we can discuss what might happen.”

We hung up then with me promising to call her later and let her know what I found out. The whole idea of calling this woman left me uneasy but I promised myself that I’d call her during my lunch break. With that resolved, I headed to the bedroom to get ready for work.

I hit the streets about noon and headed for my beat. Ten o’clock couldn’t get here soon enough. I’ve been looking forward to vacation for several months and intended to get several things done around the house and do plenty of relaxing. I made a mental note to try and get Kristi to take a few days off and maybe take a trip to Tahoe or something. 

The day passed and was rather uneventful. I wrote a few speeding tickets, handled a couple of routine burglary calls and generally stayed away from anything serious. This close to vacation I didn’t want to get involved in anything that might disrupt my time off. So I kept myself busy and prayed that nothing would happen on my beat.

Sooner than I cared for, my lunch break arrived. To assure that there are enough units on the streets to cover each other’s beats, we’re each assigned a lunch break. Today mine was at four-thirty and it was just about time.

“Radio, Adam-72 request Code 7,” I said into the mic. Dispatch cleared me and I checked out at my house. More often than not, that’s where I take my lunch so that I can be completely away from the public and not be bothered. Today I needed the privacy as I had to make that phone call.

I walked inside and took off my gun belt and vest. The belt gets heavy after a few hours and the vest makes me hot. During lunch I like to take them off and give my body a chance to relax for a few minutes. Today I felt that I needed to be as relaxed as possible.

Picking up the phone, I took the note from my pocket. I looked at it for a minute and then dialed the number. I also remembered to press the code to prevent my name and number from showing up on caller i.d. While she was totally hot, this woman could also be a psychopath. Better safe than sorry, I thought.

She picked up after two rings. “Hello,” I heard her say, her voice as sexy as I imagined it would be. Soft and seductive, just as I imagined she would sound.

“Uh, hi.” I said. “My name is Larry and I’m calling regarding the note you left for me at the gym this morning.” My heart was pounding as I said the words and I’m sure that I sounded like a nervous schoolboy calling his first crush.

“Hi Larry, I’m Melanie but people usually call me Mel. Thank you for calling. I wasn’t sure if you would or not but I’m happy that you did.”

I couldn’t imagine any man not responding when summoned by a woman of such beauty. But then I’d spent the day wondering if I’d actually have the nerve to make the call. 

“Well, uh, Mel, exactly what can I do for you?” I asked, trying to keep my tone even and non-committal. I didn’t want to let on that I had the hots for her though she probably knew that most men did.




Meeting Mel: The Beginning



“Larry, I can imagine what you must be thinking. You probably think that I’m either a nutcase or a police groupie. I want to assure you that I’m neither.”

Well, that was good to hear. Both possibilities had crossed my mind as there are plenty of both in the world. Somehow though, I had figured that she was neither.

“Okay Mel,” I said, “that eliminates a couple of possibilities. Now I have to warn you that I’m not much of a mind reader so I hope that you’ll tell me why you left me that note.” 

She laughed. A happy feminine laugh that got me started thinking again. My gawd, was there anything about this woman that didn’t ooze sexuality? I pondered this for a few seconds until she spoke again.

“I can’t believe that I did this to be honest with you. I’m not in the habit of approaching strangers, no matter how attractive they are.”

What could she be thinking? The woman was a near goddess and could easily have any man around. And she had doubts about approaching me? This made me wonder how the women who throw themselves at me during work have the nerve if this beauty has self-doubt.

“But after thinking about it for a while,” she continued, breaking into my thoughts. “I decided that if I didn’t I might regret it. And I always endeavor to live life without regret. So I had decided to approach you but chickened out at the last moment. That’s why I left the note with Linda.”

I was taken aback. My brain couldn’t comprehend what I was hearing. This woman, easily hotter than any woman I’ve seen in the last year, wanted to ask me out. And not only that, she was scared to do it. 

“Mel, I think I understand where you’re going with this. You’re wanting to ask me out, aren’t you?” My question was met with a short sigh, possibly of relief that I’d taken her off the hook and she didn’t have to completely verbalize her thoughts.

“Well, yeah, that’s exactly what I want to do,” came her reply. 

I was immensely flattered. In fact, I think my ego jumped off the scale of measurability. But I had to keep my composure and turn her down, gently to be sure but she had to know that I would never do anything to jeopardize my marriage to Kristi.

“Mel, I’m truly flattered. You’re a very beautiful woman and it would be an honor to any man to have your attentions. But I’m afraid that it simply isn’t possible. I’m married and love my wife very deeply. I would never, ever do anything to hurt her or jeopardize our marriage.”

There was silence between us for several moments. I could hear her breathing during the quiet and I felt bad for her. I could imagine how much courage it had taken her to get to this point and now her advances were being rebuked. I’d been in her place before and knew that yo didn’t feel good at this point.

“Mel, are you okay?” I asked softly. I hoped that she wouldn’t take it too hard and would understand the belief that I have in staying faithful to my wife. 

Finally, she answered. “I’m okay Larry, thank you for asking. This of course wasn’t exactly what I was expecting though.”

I felt relief at her answer. It could have been much worse. Now at least I wouldn’t feel too bad if I happened to see her around the gym again. 

“Are you sure that you wouldn’t consider having a drink with me? Just one so that we could talk and get to know each other a little?”

“I’m sorry Mel but it’s out of the question. My wife means more to me than anything in the world and I’d never do anything behind her back.”

There was a slight pause before she said anything. “Do you think that she’d be interested in the three of us having a drink together?”

My mouth flew open so fast that I was sure all of the air had been expelled from my body. I certainly hadn’t seen this coming and my head was spinning. This was one of my ultimate fantasies and I never, ever figured it to come true. But perhaps the impossible was about to happen.

“Well, uh, my wife does love to meet new people and make new friends,” I said, already thinking about how best to propose this idea to Kristi. “I suppose that I could ask her and see what she thinks.”

“Well then, why don’t you do that? See if she might like for the three of us to get together to have a drink and talk. You never know what might happen once we’re all friends,” she said brightly. 

Was this really happening to me? Or was I having a dream that I would soon wake from. No matter what, this was the best thing to happen to me in a long time!

I agreed to discuss the idea with Kristi and to call her back in a couple of hours. As it turned out Mel didn’t have any plans for the evening and when I told her that Kristi and I had talked about going to The Brewery after I got off work, she said that she wouldn’t mind meeting us if Kristi was agreeable. We chatted for a couple of minutes before hanging up the phone.

I took a few minutes to compose myself and get my thoughts in order. This sounded like the ideal situation to me but my wife might have different ideas. And even though we’d shared our bed with several ladies in the past, it had never come about quite like this.

Noting that I had about ten minutes left on my lunch break, I picked up the phone and dialed my wife’s office. She answered on the third ring and from the tone of her voice, I could tell that she was in a good mood. Fridays are usually quite hectic in her office and often leave her frustrated and upset until she makes it to the gym and works out. I felt that perhaps fate was smiling down on me.

“Hi baby, how’s my favorite gal doing?” I asked. 

“Oh, I’m just great honey. Several of my afternoon appointments cancelled and I was able to get my paperwork done early for a change. In fact, I was just getting my things together to leave.”

I was impressed. Ordinarily she didn’t get out of the office until nearly five-thirty so this had been a good day for her. I was now certain that fate was indeed on my side.

“Well,” she said, “did you make that call?”

I smiled. One thing about both of us is that we like to get right to the point. The only time either of us beats around the bush is when we’re feeling really frisky and get into some role-playing. 

“I sure did,” I said. “If you’re sitting down I’ll tell you about it if you can spare a few minutes.”

Kristi said that she was sitting down and to go ahead. I paused for a second to collect my thoughts before I began.

“Well, it turns out that Red is really named Mel and that she’s interested in getting to know me. It seems that she has taste that’s as refined as yours and knows a good thing when she sees it,” I teased.

This brought a snort from my wife. She loves to help keep my ego in check and I sensed that I’d just given her the opportunity to do just that.

“I feel for the poor girl then. She obviously doesn’t know much about men or she’d be able to tell that you’re no better than the other little boys who pretend be grown-ups.”

I chuckled at that one. Not her best attempt at keeping me humble but a worthy try. And I had to remember that she was just finish up her workday.

“So Tarzan, what did your little girlfriend really want?” Kristi asked.

“Well babe, she basically wanted to ask me out. Seems that she’s been checking me out at the gym and thinks I’m hot stuff. She asked me if we could get together for a drink and get to know each other.”

My wife burst out laughing when I finished. “My gawd,” she said, “you’re going to be hell to live with for the next few weeks. I bet that you’ll be checking yourself at in the mirror all the time and wondering if every woman you see has the hots for you.”

I laughed with her before I continued. “Naturally I told her that I was deeply flattered but that I’m married to the world’s most wonderful woman and that I’d never do anything to hurt you. I think she was disappointed but understood how I felt about you sweetie.”

“Aw, aren’t you the sweetest. I know that you wouldn’t ever cheat on me honey, that’s why I told you to go ahead and call the young vixen. I trust you completely and know that you’d never betray that trust. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I would cut your dick off if you did.”

I laughed again. “That’s the one thing that I am one hundred percent sure about babe. Hell hath no fury and all that crap.”

“You got that right,” she said. “So how’d it end with, uh, Mel is it?”

I smiled. “Yeah, it’s Mel. And she surprised me after I explained about being married.” I paused before continuing. “She went on to say that she really wanted to get to know me and that if it was okay with you, she’d like the three of us to have a drink together.”

I could almost hear her jaw hit the floor. The mental image of this caused me to chuckle as I waited for her to digest what I’d said. As I mentioned before, we’ve shared our bed with several women before but it had never happened under these circumstances.

“Wow,” I heard Kristi say, “are you lying to me?”

I swore that I was telling the truth and that I hadn’t even brought up the subject with Mel. Getting no immediate response, I told Kristi to hang on a sec so I could end my lunch break. Once I’d advised Radio that I was back on the air, I picked the phone up again. “Well hon, what do you think?”

“I think that if you’re kidding me, I’m going to cut your balls off very slowly tonight. And with a rusted knife at that!”

Knowing that she was kidding, at least partially, I quickly assured her again that I was telling the truth. I’m kind of partial to having my balls in their proper place.

She went on. “I’ve never told you this but I’ve fantasized about you being picked up by another woman and bringing her home to fuck. Sometimes I join in and sometimes I just watch. Either way, it gives me a hellacious orgasm during my private time. And this seems like this may be a chance for both of us to get our fantasies fulfilled.”

I could have kissed her. Had she been there, I’d have thrown her down and taken her. I was really excited and words simply weren’t enough to express how I was feeling.

“So babe, should I call Mel and tell her that we’d love to have a drink together? She had mentioned that she didn’t have plans for tonight so I was thinking about inviting her to meet us at The Brewery after I get off work.”

“Well dear, let’s go for it. Call this hot babe of yours and get us a date for tonight!”

*******************************************

I hope that, if you stuck with me this far, that you enjoyed this story. The next chapter is already in progress and will hopefully be finished by mid-March or so. Please vote and I appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you!!



Meeting Melissa



This story was written by a friend of mine, who asked that I post it for him. I will be glad to except any feedback on this story for him, and I will forward all responses for him to read. 

My name is Jim, and I had just finished mowing the grass. It was only the middle of June and it was already 90 degrees outside. I hated to think what it was going to be like by late July and August. I went over to the fridge to get a cold soda and sat down at the table to cool off. I don't know how long I sat there day dreaming before I heard a knock at the door. I went to the door and when I opened it; I had to catch my breath. There at my front door stood a beautiful black woman. She stood about 5'6" tall, in heels. Beautiful long shiny black hair, perky breast and a nice bubble butt. She was dressed in a black dress that came to just above her knees.

I asked her if I could help her, and she told me her car had broke down, and she was trying to get to her uncles funeral. She asked me if she could use the phone to call her dealership. She also added that it was a brand new car, and she hadn't put but a little over 3,000 miles on it. 

I introduced myself to her, and she told me her name was Melissa Baker. I told her I'd go look at it before she called. It may be something simple I could fix. 

I went and got my small tool box from my truck, and then I told Melissa that if she wanted too she could stay in my house where it was cool and have a soda while I went and checked her car out. Before I left she told me the steering wheel had started shaking real bad. I went up the road to where she told me her car was, and I could see what the problem was as I drove up, Her front right wheel was cocked in under the car. She had a brand new car and the wheel bearings had gone bad. She was damn lucky the wheel hadn't come completely off. 

I drove back to the house and she met me at the door and you could see the tears start to flow as I told her the bad news. I asked her where she bought the car, and I called the dealership for her. The service manager was a friend of mine and when I told him the problem, he told me the tow truck would be there in a couple of hours.

When I told Melissa what he had said, she sat down and put her head in her hands and started to cry again. I told her not to worry, because the car was still under warranty. She told me that that wasn't the reason she was crying. She said her aunt and uncle had raised her when her mom had died of cancer and that she needed to get to the funeral if for no other reason than to be there for her aunt.

My heart went out to her. I told her to go to my guest bathroom, freshen up and I would jump in the shower, get dressed, and then I would take her the thirty miles to the church. She thanked me for my trouble, got up from the kitchen table, came over to where I was sitting, bent over, and kissed me on the cheek. She smelled so good that I almost forgot that I was trying to be a gentleman. I told her it was my pleasure and stood up, hoping she didn't notice the erection in my jeans.

After I showered, I put some slacks on and then I put a shirt and tie on also. I looked in the mirror and said "not bad for a 25 yr. old bachelor." At least that's what I had been told by a few women. I am 6'3" tall and weighed 245 lbs. I have brown eyes with shoulder length brown hair that I put in a pony tail. 

As I came into my living room she whistled. 

"WOW you clean up nice". 

I blushed and thanked her. I reached down and picked up my keys and told her we should be leaving.

While we were on our way to the small church we talked, and I found out that Melissa was 23 years old, single, no boy friend, and lived, and worked in the city. She worked as a real estate agent. The further down the road we went, the better friends we became. 

Melissa asked me what I did for a living. I told her I worked for a company in Alaska. I worked three week's on and three weeks off. I also told her it was beautiful up there in the summer and cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey in the winter. She laughed for the first time since I met her. I told her she was beautiful when she laughs and smiles and that she should do it more often. She smiled again and reached over and put her hand on my hand. I felt a electric shock that went straight to my cock as she did.

When we got to the church I told Melissa that I would wait out side and if she didn't have a ride home I would take her home. She told me that that was ludicrous. I was going to go in and sit with her because she was going to need a strong shoulder to lean on. I couldn't get out of it no matter what i said.

I hate to admit this, but I was nervous as hell. I had been raised to be prejudiced. Even though I didn't believe in it, There was a hint of my up bringing shining through. My father and his better than thou ways was why I left home to start with. Not to mention the state.

We got stared at big time as we walked in and Melissa shocked me when she intertwined our fingers as we walked up to the casket. Melissa turned to me, reached up, wrapped her arms around my neck and burst into tears when she saw her uncle. I told her to go ahead and let it go. I told her not to hold it in. Her aunt came up to us and introduced herself to me and to console Melissa. They held each other and cried for a few more minutes.

After that we went and sat by her aunt, Melissa held my hand all the way through the service in the church and I stood behind her with my hands on her shoulders as she sat by her aunt at grave side. 

When we left the grave yard we went to her aunt's house and there was enough food there to feed a small army. We ate and visited for awhile. When I told Melissa i was fixing to head home, she told her aunt she had to leave. Even though, I had told her earlier that one of her cousins and his wife, had volunteered to take her home. 

After we got in the truck, Melissa slid over beside me and put her head on my shoulder and her hand on my knee. I lazily laid my hand on her knee and squeezed softly. She moaned lightly and in a few minutes she fell asleep. 

I needed to change clothes before I took Melissa home. So, just before we got to my house, I squeezed Melissa's thigh lightly and said her name. She opened her eye's and pouted a little. I couldn't help but laugh when she said in a little girls voice that she was sleeping too good. I told her why I was stopping and asked her if she wanted to stay in the truck or come inside while I changed clothes. She said she would come in because she had to use the bathroom. 

I didn't notice when instead of going into the guest bathroom, Melissa went to mine. As I went into the kitchen, I called after her and asked if she wanted anything to drink. She yelled back no. From where my kitchen is located I couldn't tell which bathroom she was in. 

After I got a glass of water, I went to my bedroom. When I went in I checked to make sure the bathroom door was shut for her privacy. Just after I took my shirt and tie off, I heard Melissa clear her throat. When I turned around I saw a delicious site. Melissa was standing in the door way of my bathroom nude. Her nipples were hard and when I let my gaze wander down to her pussy, I noticed that she didn't hardly have any hair at all down there. She must have been trimming the hair just short of shaving. 

As Melissa walked toward me she told me that if my jaw got any lower, my tongue and jaw would be on the floor. She told me that I was the sweetest man she had ever met and that she wanted to thank me properly. Just before she got to me I put my hand up and told her she didn't have to do this. Her answer was to drop to her knees, unbuckle my belt, and unsnap, and unzip my pants. She then reached in my pants and pulled out my stiffening cock. Melissa stroked my cock a couple times and told me she knew from earlier that day that I would have a nice cock. 

Melissa licked the head of my cock and then up and down the shaft, just as she took the head into her mouth, she monad. I reached up and grabbed her by the hair and started slowly fucking her mouth. When my cock reached the back of her throat, she grabbed my butt cheeks and pulled me to her. I monad loudly as I felt the head of my cock slide down her throat. 

Melissa looked up at me and it seemed like she was smiling. When I turned her hair loose, she started rocking back and forth. After a couple minutes of this, she slid back and took my cock out of her mouth and told me she loved the taste of my pre-cum. I told her if she kept sucking my cock that way she would be able to taste a lot more. This time I knew for sure she had smiled. She then took my cock back into her mouth and down her throat.

It felt so fucking good. I started fucking Melissa's mouth faster and faster, the closer I got. Just before I reached the point of no return I yelled too Melissa that I was about to cum. I just wanted to give her a chance to pull my cock out of her mouth. She pulled back until all that was left in her mouth was the head of my cock. My first spurt hit the back of her throat and it caused her to gag but that didn't stop her. She kept pumping my cock and tried to swallow all of the cum, But some dribbled out of her mouth and dripped off her chin onto her beautiful black breast. I shot at least six or seven times. I believe the last two or three was more dribbles than spurts.

When I finally stopped cumming, Melissa looked up at me and let my softening cock slip out of her mouth. She licked my cum off her lips and took her finger and wiped the cum off her chin and sucked her finger clean. Then she stood up and offered the breast to me that had my cum on it. I leaned down and licked my cum off and swallowed it. Then I sucked and nibbled on her nipple. She moaned loudly and even louder when I reached down and stroked her clit. I eased my finger lower and entered Melissa's very, very wet pussy. 

I raised up, stepped out of my pants and picked Melissa up. I couldn't believe how light she felt in my arms. As I started to step toward the bed, she pulled my head down to her lips and we shared our first kiss. I got a little light headed at first because I had never been kissed so intensely. Our tongues touched and then they seemed to fight over the domination of each others mouth. When I reached the bed, I laid her down and then I laid down beside her. 

I started kissing Melissa again and then I started kissing and nibbling my way down her body. When I got to her belly button I got up and knelt between her legs. I licked around her clit, teasing her. She begged me to lick her clit and make her cum. When I did start licking her clit, she grabbed my head and pulled me tighter to her pussy. I started sucking hard on her love button. Then I eased a couple of fingers in her pussy and curled them up so I could reach her g spot. When I rubbed her g spot she started bucking and screaming as she came. She came so hard and had so much juice flowing, I thought she had peed in my mouth until I realized it was thick, slippery, and damn tasty. 

I laid down beside Melissa and pulled her to me. She was laying in my arms, breathing hard and shaking like a leaf. She told me that was the first time she had ever cum that hard. Not to mention it was the first time anybody had ever eaten her pussy.

I asked her why no one had ever ate her. She told me that the few men she had went to bed with wanted her to suck their cocks but refused to eat her pussy. Melissa told me that I was also the first white man she had ever been with. 

I told her that she was my first interracial encounter also. As I was telling her why I had moved so far from home she started stroking my cock. Her small hand was so soft and it felt so good that I started forgetting what I had just said every time she rubbed the pre-cum over the sensitive head of my cock. 

Melissa got tickled at me. When I realized that she was laughing at my expense, I started tickling her and we rolled around on the bed until she wound up on top of me. I laid still as I felt her warm pussy sitting on my hard shaft. She sat up and then raised up on her knees a little, reached back, grabbed my cock and placed the fat head at the entrance of her dripping pussy. We both moaned when she eased down and my cock entered her pussy for the first time. She was so tight and sooo, sooo wet. It took all the control I had to keep from pushing all of my cock up into her.

I looked down at her pussy as she started slowly easing her pussy down on me. The site of my white cock sliding into her black pussy looked so erotic, that I moaned. Melissa looked down to see what I was looking at and gasped. She told me that the contrast of the color of our bodies was so fucking stimulating. 

As soon as I felt her sit all the way down on me, I reached up, wrapped my arms around her and rolled over. Melissa squealed, wrapped her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist, and moaned as I started to slowly thrust in and out of her. Even though she was so wet, she was just as tight. I started picking up the pace of my thrusts. Melissa moaned louder the faster I got. Soon I was pounding in and out of her faster and faster. She started calling out my name and scratching my back as her orgasm overtook her. 

With Melissa being so tight, cumming so hard and her screaming. I wasn't able to last very long. With a final thrust I emptied my load deep inside her pussy. I was breathing so hard and felt so drained, that I thought I was going to pass out. When my cock started going soft, I rolled off of Melissa and she went down and licked my cum and her juices off my cock. After a couple of minutes she came up and we kissed softly. I was able to taste the results of our love making and I loved it.

The sun had gone down and the only light in the room was coming from the bathroom. I could see the gleam in Melissa's eyes as she looked at me. I asked her if she wanted to spend the night or did she want me to take her home. She told me that with the next day being Saturday, plus the fact that she had the next two weeks off. She was in no hurry. I told her that I wasn't in any hurry for her to leave either. I then sat up, pulled the cover over us and we drifted off into a deep sleep. 



Meeting Melissa



What do you call the daughter of your third wife's first husband's first wife? I don't really know the answer, but "hot" is what came to mind when I first met her.

My wife had been her 'mother' during her turbulent teenage years and had remained in her life, while her father had not. She came to visit us for two weeks between jobs, and I had never seen her, though I had heard all about her wild promiscuity, her pregnancies, and the resulting abortions.

She also told me that Melissa was mixed race. To be exact, she was an octoroon. In the Old South women who were one-eighth black were called 'high yellow' or 'octoroon.' It generally was accepted that they had the best features of both races, though I know of nothing scientific that justifies the conclusion. My wife told me Melissa had mingled feelings about this, sometimes hiding her heritage, sometimes bragging about it. I didn't know what to expect.

I was not prepared for a tall olive skinned beauty with hair as black as India ink and eyes that were as playful as her smile. To say I was struck speechless is not too far off the mark. She hugged me, as a new 'in-law' but I was too focused on the breasts she pressed against me to really hear what she said.

She played the part of the worldly twenty-something, disparaging my dog as 'little and ugly,' and pointing out all the reasons her car was cooler than mine. She could have bitch-cussed me, as long as I could look at her, be in the same room with her, have an excuse to sit on the couch and smell her.

Yeah, I was thirty years older than she was, yeah 'could have been her father', but she was so smoking hot I felt like I was going to drool. That always impresses the young ones, when you drool.

After a couple of days, I was still laying in bed with a hard on thinking of her just down the hall. That's when my wife got sick. Turned out to have a ruptured appendix, and so she spent a week in the hospital. Melissa and I spent several hours in the ER until we knew the score, but then it was pointless for us to stay. She was sedated, prepped for surgery, in the staging area. It was 3am, and we took their advice and went home for the night. 

We were both wired, so I suggested a glass of wine, and then another. She wound up with her head on my shoulder, sobbing about her love for my wife. I loved her too, but right then I had a throbbing boner, and it was doing the thinking. I kissed her on the cheek, and then we sort of turned into each other, and suddenly her tongue was in my mouth and all thought of my wife was gone.

She really knew how to kiss, and she worked me to a frenzy with her licking and sucking, and that was before I touched her. I hesitantly slid a hand up to cup one firm young tit, and I almost came then! She pulled her top off, and unsnapped her bra, and I was sucking on the darkest, hardest nipples I had tasted in years, if ever! Her skin was so smooth and warm. She started squirming and moaning, and I could smell her arousal. 

"We can't, we can't," she murmured in my neck. "She's like my mother."

I pulled back an inch and turned her head so she was looking in my eyes.

"Melissa," I said, "I'm not your father. It's natural for you to feel overwhelmed with this. We don't have to progress to sex. (but oh, please God, let us!)"

"I feel like a fool," she said as she dropped her eyes, "no, a whore. I deal with everything by using sex."

"Well, I'm not going to take advantage of you. Why don't you come sleep in the bed with me, and we can cuddle together, but we won't do anymore kissing or fooling around. Just be together, ok?"

"You would really do that? You don't want to fuck me?"

"I'd love to give you pleasure, to make love to you a hundred ways, but not if you're going to feel like I used you."

She cried some more, and then meekly followed me to the bedroom where she stripped naked and crawled in beside me, while I remained in my briefs. I had to; my erection would have made lying near her impossible if it weren't restrained.

In a few minutes she was sleeping like a child (she IS a child, you old fool!) while I held her in my arms and smelled her womanly smells. I actually went to sleep sometime, because I woke up with her still there. She was awake, looking at me.

"Boy, you must be blind to look at me first thing in the morning," I said.

"I think you hair standing up like a cockatoo s cute," she pronounced. "Thanks for... well, you know. I'm such a slut!" Tears brimmed.

"None of that. Sex is not something nasty; it is an expression of love." I pulled her close, (still naked) and kissed her on the forehead, keeping my enormous morning wood away from her. "Go start breakfast!"

I wanted to pee and brush my teeth. That done, I went to the kitchen where Melissa wore a tee-shirt of mine, and apparently nothing else. I 'accidentally' booty-bumped her as I passed her, and she smiled and returned the favor. I suggested we go visit the hospital, which we did, and saw my wife plugged into dozens of machines and sound asleep. They told us she was fine, but wouldn't be awake for another 24 hours, and we couldn't visit except one hour three times a day.

We picked up a few groceries, causing several more accidental body contacts, as many from her as from me. When we got home and put them all away, she asked what the plans were.

"I'm not going back to work this week, so I guess we hang out."

Hang out we did, trading some mp3s, including one of hers called "fuck her gently" which isn't much of a song but is sure a broad hint! She also said that sometimes she enjoyed driving with her seat pushed way back, slumped down low, with Rap music booming. 

"Why do you think I do that?"

"I think we both know," I replied, and she blushed a dark flush.

I sat on the couch, and she curled up on the other end.

"Jim, you look really tired."

"Well, I'm beat, I guess. Stressful night, you know."

"I'm really good at massage. Let me do your shoulders."

Who in their right mind would pass on that? I turned my back to her, but she tugged on my shirt. 

"Don't you want it bare-back?" She really knew how to drive an old man crazy.

She began to rub and squeeze my shoulders and my neck. No question it felt great! After a few minutes, she started kissing the same areas. I wasn't going to turn it down twice; she was cold sober and had slept all night, unmolested by an old pervert.

I twisted and pulled her over so I could return the kiss, and then rotated completely so we were facing. Then I slid back and pulled her on top of me, and she came with no resistance. This time I kissed as fervently as she did; this time I pulled her top off and felt her diamond hard nipples rub my chest.

I lifted her shoulders to mouth her breasts, and she enthusiastically fed them to me, first one and then the other. I made no effort to disguise my adamantine dick, and she certainly moved as if she was well aware of its presence. In a perfect world I would have scooped her up and carried her to the bed; the reality is that I suggested we go there, and she walked on her own.

When we stood at the side of the bed, I slipped her shorts and panties off, and was immediately assailed by the rich aroma of a woman in sexual arousal. She had a musk unlike any I remembered and I think the smell alone would have acquitted me before any jury of men, if they could smell her too.

She knelt and undid my belt, then looked in my eyes as she pushed my pants and undies to my ankles. I had left the loafers on the living room floor. She turned and climbed onto the bed, swaying her magnificent ass as she did. I climbed in behind her, never breaking eye contact.

This time when we kissed it was explosive. My hands were all over her, and hers on me, and we kissed as starving people eat. It all became a blur of smooth skin and warm recesses. I have memories of her astride me, her boobs bouncing restrained only by my hands; me buried to the hilt on top of her with her legs clasped at my waist; her on hands and knees as I drove in from behind, and her screaming and moaning and howling as I poured load after load in her tight hot pussy. I cannot separate them into single acts, however, it seems like an endless fuck, an hours long sex act.

We lay back and caught our breath, she lay against my side.

"No one has ever allowed me to back off before," she said, looking at my toes.

"This is backing off?" I said.

"You know, last night. I wanted to then, but you didn't jump me at the first chance, and you're the only one who's ever been that good to me." Tears threatened again.

I pulled her in tighter, head up to shoulder. "You are a remarkable, beautiful, sexy woman. You don't need to sell yourself short, ever."

She smiled and put her hand on my cock, which snapped back to focus. With a wicked smirk she leaned over and sucked my shaft into her mouth, rolling the head around with her tongue. That was a fine tongue! She crawled around to lie so that she faced me with her head at pelvic level. Her long hair spilled over my gut, maddening in its drifting masses. 

She bobbed up and down on my penis while gently stroking my balls. Her finger sneaked into my asshole, and just as I was ejaculating, she shoved it in! I am amazed I didn't blow her head off I came so hard! She squirmed up alongside me, and offered me a snowball of my cum and her spit, which I took gladly. We shared the flavor in another long languorous kiss. 

Now it was my turn to show off, and we reversed positions, so that I could lick every inch of her glorious cunt. She was shaved, but with a landing strip left. Her pubic hair was so dark and dense that I was amazed at the feathery texture. It looked like wire, but tasted like air.

I licked her entire pussy, from one side to the other and from anus to clit. I dove in and tried to lick her navel from the inside. I rimmed her asshole and drove my tongue deep inside her there. Then I went back to her clit, and sucked it full on while I ran two fingers in and out of her soft wet vagina. She thrashed beneath me and I heard the sounds I was learning to love, her deep moans of approaching climax. Finally she slammed against my face as her orgasm swept her away.

God, it's only four pm!" she said. "What will we do tonight?"

After another useless trip to the hospital, she came to the bed without my asking, and stripped efficiently and quickly.

"Would you think I was weird if I told you I liked it up the ass?" She asked.

Has any man ever answered that question "Yes?" 

I had no lube, no Vaseline, no KY. Desperation calls for inventiveness.

"You ever used lard before?" I knew we had some of that.

She didn't object, and I ran to the pantry, hard dick bouncing as I ran, and grabbed the lard. I slathered her ass and my rod with a half a pound or so, and then got behind her as she kneeled. She helped me guide my rigid member to her tight rear entrance, and as I pushed her muscles slowly gave way. I felt the slipping as a steady pressure, until I passed her entrance, and then suddenly my head was completely in, and my shaft had no resistance.

"Fuck me, Fuck my ass, and fuck me like a naughty whore!" She screamed. I complied.

The tightness of her back door was incredible! It was so warm and hot that I might have melted and died. I did not melt, however; if anything, I got harder the longer I fucked her. She bucked back against me and drilled her ass on my erection. I rammed until I thought I couldn't go any longer, and she took up the slack. Over and over she banged against me, as I desperately tried to just keep up.

'I'm cumming! I'm cumming, I cumming from having my ass fucked!" she screamed, and then spasmed so hard I thought she would kill me. I squirted gism I didn't know I had, and flooded her rectum with gallons and gallons of white ropy spunk.

I've never had a sexual experience with someone of another race. I don't know if a mixed race person who looks Caucasian even 'officially' counts. I do know I've heard the expression, "Once you go Black you never go back."

That's wrong. I intend to go back every chance I get.