4 comments/ 73919 views/ 5 favorites Melli Black By: Nomeaux Patience When it comes to Amelia “Melli” Black, I still am not convinced whether I was predator or prey. We met on one of my busiest mornings. I, the pending mentor, had agreed to meet this aspiring journalist who came highly recommended because of superior intelligence demonstrated by a near peerless grade point average, and an acumen for the newspaper business that pointed to a promising career. When a professor from my alma mater recommended this student to shadow me, following me around on my beat as a reporter for the largest paper in this East Coast city, my response was automatic. “Sure,” I said. “I’m covering a City Council meeting Monday morning. Have – what’s his name? Melli Black? Have him meet me outside council chambers around 10.” Weekend activities washed away any memory of the meeting I’d arranged. At about 10:20 on Monday I was among the pack of journalists that burst from the council room, trailing the mayor down the corridor and fawning like bees to honey. His budget just got passed and we wanted to know if he would gloat. I wouldn’t have noticed Melli if I had not had to squeeze past those fabulous breasts. First, the back of my right hand grazed the outside of her left tit. Passive-aggressive horn dog that I am, I immediately took advantage of the situation as she pressed herself against the wall to avoid the media pack on a feeding frenzy. My interest turned from the mayor to surreptitiously copping a feel. My backhand, my wrist, and then most of my forearm raked across the front of her chest. Her posture against the wall made her stand straighter and taller than her 5-foot5-inch height. Her breasts did not, could not give. In that brief, intimate instant, I was imagining her nipples awakening like little flowers when she tugged my arm. Time stopped. My first thought was of a salacious headline, like: “Black Reporter Molests White Coed at City Hall!” I came out of my lapse when I faintly heard my name. “Mr. O’Neal?” I blinked toward the mayor leading the pack away, then back at Melli. “Mr. O’Neal, I’m Melli, um, Amelia Black.” I was struck first by her beauty. Her face is round, her smile perfectly imperfect, and dark blonde hair flowing to her shoulder blades. The name suddenly connected. “Melli? Melli, I’m sorry. I forgot,” I said, truly sympathetic, and still a little embarrassed. Maybe she hadn’t noticed that some older, tall black man had just mauled her boobs in public, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I let my instinct take over. With a quick glance at the plentiful cleavage revealed by her snug V-neck T-shirt, I gave her a hug. It was quick. We probably looked awkward, me being nearly a foot taller. For a moment, though, those enormous mounds were pressed against my … well, against my stomach. To me, I was an alumnus just making a protégé feel welcome. “So, you’re Melli,” I said, stepping back at arm’s length. She nodded and hit me with a sly grin. I must not have been the first person to make that mistake. “You’ll have to forgive me for sounding like a bigot, but I thought Ellen was sending a black guy,” I said. I think I winced at my own prejudice. “Where did a pretty girl, I mean beautiful young woman …” I stopped before I suffocated on my foot. Melli just smiled more coyly. Melli was full figured, top to bottom. I sensed I was at least twice her age. She looked irresistible in those tight-fitting jeans. There seemed to be no fat in her thickness. Her waist was proportionally smaller than her tits and hips. I wondered whether her pussy was shaved or furry. I dreamed, for a millisecond, that she would moan as I slurped her juices. Damn! Look at that. Her nipples are hard. Guiltily I thought that she couldn’t be any older than my children. When I came to my senses, I was busted for the second time in the past 60 seconds. I’m sure I would have blushed had my skin been lighter. “I thought you’d stood me up, Mr. O’Neal,” she said. I felt more at ease. Her flirtatious tone meant I already was forgiven for the insults. “Am I in your way? You seem kinda busy,” she asked. She seemed so innocent. I glanced at the mayor down the hall, hovering at his office door like a diva bee as he waved off the hungry reporters surrounding him. I had all I needed. My attention returned to Melli. My mind turned to my desire to wrap those tender thighs around my ears. Melli wouldn’t be the first woman I’d ever ogled and fucked in my mind. She wasn’t even the first that day. It was a favorite pastime of mine, a harmlessly placebo-like treatment for my boring sex life at home. I admit that my wife and I have had a few great years of marriage. That’s not bad for a couple that wed a quarter-century ago. It’s my own fault that I fell for a woman who transforms into a refrigerator in bed. I looked past Melli’s her modesty. She probably didn’t really care that she’d interrupted my work. I hustled her off toward the elevator. A deadline was bearing down on me. On the ride down, Melli and I made small talk. We came to an understanding that, since she planned to be in the business, if we would one day possibly be colleagues, she should use my first name, Jay. I already called her, Melli. It was a nickname she said was coined by her toddler nephew who could not pronounce her given name, Amelia. I pretended not to notice as she checked me out on the elevator. My wine colored silk big shirt draped over the pleats in my black gabardine slacks just where the impression of my flaccid but partially engorged member dangled along my leg. Melli had to break her gaze to exit the elevator before me, giving me a chance to check out that plump butt sashaying in front of me. Her ring caught my eye. This delicious college girl was married, I was thinking. I was committed to find out how happy she was in her relationship. Back at my office, we fit in some conversation as I worked. Yes, she had a husband, but he wasn’t actually hers. Melli would tell me later that he had promised her, swore over a period of years that he was going to leave his wife for her. Sitting next to my desk, Melli frequently stepped close to my side, bending at the waist nearly baring her bosom to my hungry eyes as she witnessed my words flowing onto the computer screen. “Melli, you’re killing me with that rack,” I said, my full frontal attack a direct response to hers. She blushed, but she didn’t change her pose. “What would your ‘husband’ think?” I said. I already knew, by her behavior, that she didn’t care what that sucker thought. “He’s not here to think anything,” she said, returning to her seat. “You’d better be careful, girl. Sights like that, and that kind of talk is the stuff that can push a dirty, old man like me right over the edge,” I said. “You should be flashing those treats at somebody much younger than me anyway.” I was glad that the two co-workers that shared my satellite office were somewhere else on assignment. Melli and I were alone. I couldn’t be sure how much time I had. As I finished up my story, Melli again was breathing over my shoulder. One of her boobs was pressed against my bicep. We both knew it and understood what it meant. “I prefer older guys anyway,” Melli cooed in my ear. Her hot breath smelled like fresh milk even if her body screamed poison to me. I was conquered. I was the second person in the room to realize it. This was moving out of the realm of flirting and mind fucking. I thought I surely would come to my senses before doing something I’d never actually done, that is, cheat on my wife. My next move could be critical. In one motion, I swiveled my chair and gently stroked my hand up the back of Melli’s thigh. I wedged my fingers in the junction where her jeans rubbed together. I looked into her eyes. Her face was inches from mine. She was expressionless. I closed the distance between our lips for our first kiss. I was well on my way to becoming Melli’s second “husband.” Melli Black was going to get it, and it would be her first time in brown. I turned my chair to face her. My hands cupped her surprisingly firm ass, kneading it as I slowly brushed her breasts with my cheeks. My legs were spread and I could feel the soft material on the inside of my trousers massaging the head of my tool, erect beyond the end of my boxer shorts. I pulled her to me and planted moist kisses on her bosom and neck. She smelled like a fresh garden. As I nibbled on her ear, I whispered, “Do you know how to suck dick, Melli?” “Uh huh, a little bit,” she panted. My hands already were loosening my buckle. If she could suck a little, I would see if she could suck a lot. By the time she was on her knees, my pants and shorts were around my ankles. My hard-on slapped my belly as I raised my ass to pull off my bottoms. When I sat, my bowed rail was aimed at her chin. Melli seemed to be taken for a moment before she grasped it in both fists, one atop the other. She licked her pouty lips as she stroked my member, staring at the portion that her hands did not cover. That’s the part she put in her mouth first. I heard her low moan, as she must have tasted my precum. I gasped when she began to work. She held my crown rested on her wet tongue and locked her lips around the top of the shaft. Her hands continued their slow, methodical masturbation while her head remained still. Inside her mouth, a tango was going on. My left leg suddenly trembled involuntarily, like a dog’s leg when you tickle its tummy. I looked down to see the top of her head with her luxurious hair draped around her face. I found a partition in her locks and carefully cupped the sides of her head. Her hair parted like a curtain. It exposed her face just as she looked up with those large, blue eyes. Melli removed her top hand gobbled farther down on the goose until her lips connected with her bottom hand. She held her ground and let out a long, low moan. It sounded like a smile. I couldn’t be sure. I was gasping again and trying to control my grip on her head. She could, indeed, suck a little. She already had swallowed a lot. Her tongue still was dancing against the under side of my dick when she removed her other hand and comfortably mashed her nose against my pubic hair. My head had eased part way down her throat. I felt my balls tighten, signaling that I was all but done. Melli knew it, too. She contracted her throat around me and started to slurp her way to the top, covering and squeezing my meat with her hands as it became exposed. “Cum on,” she said when she could breathe again. She breathed hot, moist breath on my glens and let a drool of spittle drip onto my dickhead. She opened her mouth just as I gripped her head and began fucking Melli’s face. After about a dozen steady strokes, saliva was gushing from the corners of her mouth. My shaft spasmed, and she felt it. Melli circled two fingers and her thumb as far as she could around the base and gripped it tight. She came up for air. While jacking me off with her other hand, keeping my agonizingly on the edge, she smiled sexily up at me. “Cum on,” she urged. But she would let me. “I want you to cum on my face,” she said. She seemed proud of herself. She simultaneously released both hands and deep-throated me again, doing that tongue-diddling thing while I squirmed and ground into her face. It was then that the first two spurts flew up my shaft and went down her throat. The next squirt hit the roof of her mouth, followed in rapid succession by a glob on the side of her nose and two more, splattered on her forehead and across one of her thick, sculpted eyebrows. Melli still was jerking me as the remaining dribbles landed on her extended tongue. I was speechless. My breathing was shallow and raspy as Melli milked my dick. She languidly nibbled and sucked on my as I began to soften. My head lolled from one side to the other where I incidentally noticed a friend on the office across the alley. He was standing at his window, applauding and raising two balled fists. I shot a look at Melli. I was about to tell her about our audience, but I was stopped by her actions. She was sitting with her knees folded under her. Her pants were open and unzipped. One hand was furiously flitting inside her panties, and the other was under her T-shirt and bra. It struck me then that this was going to be a great mentorship. Melli Black Ch. 02 I leaped to my feet, raising my pants at the same time. My dark chocolate tool glistened with Melli’s drool. It swayed while it hung from my open fly as stepped to the window. It still was bloated and elongated, though most of the blood had returned to my bighead. As my shiny member waved goodbye to my neighbor across the alley, I lowered the blinds. I didn’t realize that Melli and I had an audience during that terrific blow job, and that she was being watched even while she diddled herself. The thought, though, kind of turned me on, so I didn’t mind. Melli and I heard keys jangling outside the door of my one-room office. My co-worker initially fumbled with the lock. In those anxious moments before he entered, my tools were put away and Melli had rearranged her clothing. She was wiping her face with a tissue as the door opened. Melli’s face was flushed, and her breathing was deep and even. With her prodigious chest swelling and falling on each breath and a tuft of her golden locks strewn across the side of her face covering one eye, Melli could hardly look more appealing to me. She may well have been oozing sex, literally, because I’m sure that she was interrupted before she could get herself off. I tried to act normally when my co-worker, Marty, walked in. I felt like he and the rest of the world knew that Melli had just given me head that would make Vanessa DelRio proud. “Now that I’ve filed that story,” I announced by way of disguising our predicament, lest my co-worker confirmed what the expression on his face suggested that he suspected, “I’ll treat you to lunch, Melli. We can talk about the story I just wrote, and your future career in journalism. You know, stuff like that. I don’t have any more scheduled assignments today, so I’m all yours.” Melli and I stood up in tandem. Marty peered at us quizzically, panning from one to the other. “Marty, this is Melli, star of the university’s weekly newspaper. I’m showing her the ropes today,” I said, making a show of introducing her by sliding my upturned palm in her direction. “Melli, Marty Stafko,” I added. My hand gently nudged Melli on her back she and Marty shook hands. Marty didn’t notice that I was rushing her. His eyes made a pass over the ashy looking splotch on the leg of my pants. I hoped that he didn’t notice the way one of Melli’s hair strands was stuck together. I wondered how that stuff got way back there on the hair between her shoulders. We were out the door quickly, giggling like high school sophomores as we floated down the hall. I decided to take Melli to a restaurant that I didn’t usually frequent. I wasn’t in my right mind at that moment, the effects of having been the subject of the most adroit and efficient cocksucker I’d ever met. We could go to a different eatery, and I’d be less likely to be seen by familiar faces. There’d be less chance to slip up and blow my cover by blurting out a bad lie. Especially since Melli and I actually were together for a legitimate reason. I saw Corey, my friend from across the alley, approaching us as soon as we exited my building. He was gliding toward me with a knowing smirk on his face. I lifted my hand behind Melli’s back, gave Corey the “down-low” sign by wagging my hand like a duckbill above Melli’s head and out of her line of vision. I dropped my hand to her shoulder and gave her a friendly squeeze and maneuvered us past Corey. I’d try to explain it all to him some other time. The restaurant I chose, one of the two on the first floor of this Downtown hotel, was more practical for us than the alternative, five-star bistro. I didn’t want to seem pretentious and decided that the less expensive place would be appropriate. Besides, I had just met this woman. How should I know at this point whether she really wanted to be a journalist? For all I knew, she was a closet sexologst or something, and a sloppy one at that, considering the Lewinsky-like stain on my good pants. I thought about Sondra, my wife, and whether she would notice that blemish on my clothing. Sondra had never allowed so much as a drop of cum on anything except a bed towel or in her womb. When I say that sex is performed anally at our house, I’m not talking about butt fucking. Sondra and I hadn’t been intimate for weeks, and I really didn’t miss it. It’s almost shameful to admit, but sex with my own hand really did rival her skills in bed. That’s all anyone needs to know about my sex life over the last quarter century. Still, I didn’t want to take a chance or flaunt evidence of my indiscretion in Sondra’s face. The marriage was OK in other respects. Sondra has been a fine mother and a tidy housekeeper. After Melli and I ordered our salads and soft drinks, we both excused ourselves to the appropriate restrooms. My pants were black, so it wasn’t difficult to clean up the cum stain with some water and a hand towel. I took a pee, careful to milk the remnants of my ejaculate into the urinal as well. At the washbasin, I was flung back to reality by my reflection in the mirror. My low cut, conservative afro was nearly as gray as it was black, with a matching goatee. I was still a handsome, fit man for my age. I should have known better than to succumb to that little sexpot, no matter how many ways I rationalized it. If only Melli hadn’t been so damn tempestuous. She pushed all of my sex buttons and gave me a hard-on without touching, which had become a rare event for me. Just then, as I pondered that last thought, a ticklish itch in my loins signaled the beginning of my second autonomous erection that day, triggered by my reminiscing. On the way back to our booth, I prayed for strength to resist the temptation. I saw Melli sitting there, sipping water and leaning forward so that her breasts were perched on the tabletop. I wanted to fuck her more than I wanted to breathe. The events in my office came rushing back to me, that hot mouth nursing me half way down her throat. My dick was on full alert, and I didn’t care if anyone saw it. Now I was praying that my first prayer wouldn’t be answered. I sat opposite Melli and grabbed a big swig of water before I spoke. “You know what, Melli? I should apologize,” I said. Melli’s eyes met mine attentively, so I pressed on. “You came up here to get some pointers about the newspaper business, and I jumped you like a horny rabbit. I want you to know it’ll never hap …,” I didn’t finish the thought, so startled was I by her bare foot stroking my woody under the table. With a mischievous glint in her smiling eyes, she toyed with my member and let me know what she really wanted. “Oh damn,” I said excitedly. Her smallish foot was like a third hand, slowly stroking me, arousing me even more. “Let’s get a room,” Melli groaned. “In this place?” I said, grabbing her foot without removing it from my lap. Her toes continued to flutter and caused me to throb from my balls to the crown of my dick. “You want an afternoon at the Downtown Westin with a gray old man you just met,” I said. The chance to get my dick wet between those juicy thighs surely would have to be worth buying a $90-room, but she still was a stranger. No, I wouldn’t do it. “At night, I work at the Westin’s sister hotel across town. I’m paying my way for college,” Melli explained. “It’s against hotel policy for me to get a room where I work, but I get a big discount at other places in the chain,” Melli explained. She sounded quite convincing. I couldn’t disagree. There was nothing I could do. I caved faster than a satyr at a girl’s boarding school. We hardly touched our lunch, and Melli’s magic foot never left my crotch. My shorts were bunched and riding up my muscular thigh, leaving only the material of my pants, now with a new damp spot, separating my dick from her ministrations. Melli put on her shoe and made arrangements at the front desk. I pulled out my cell phone and called my editor to report the sudden, nauseating migraine headache that would require me to take heavy drugs and catch the bus home. It was a harmless lie that accomplished its end. I left a hefty tip and met Melli at the elevator. I remember thinking that none of my sexual fantasies could stand up to this, the real thing. I had longed to find out what would happen if a female ever went along with the idea of spontaneous sex with a stranger. I was the one, not the strange women, who usually backed out, terrified that I could wreck my family and ruin my children. Melli made it all a lot easier for me. We were alone on the elevator, and she seemed deep to read my thoughts. I stepped over to face her. She looked up at me, moving into my arms as we kissed. It was tender. Our tongues did a wild monkey dance and I groped every part of her that I could reach. I turned her around. With her back to me, I stroked the sides of her boobs through her clothing. I didn’t obsess over them. One hand stayed put while the other slid across her mid-section, over her waistband and zipper until I had four fingers wedged between her soft thighs, firmly palming her vulva. Melli whimpered and gapped her legs to make more room for my hand. I stooped a little to grind on that massive ass. She pressed back into my erection, and it was my turn to exhale. With my other hand, I pinched one nipple, causing her to squeal. “I’ve never actually cheated on my boyfriend before,” Melli said breathlessly. She pressed one of her hands over mine that was on her pussy, humping slowly as she talked. That’s when she told me that she wasn’t really married. She wore the ring to stave off suitors. She had been faithful to Lorenzo, her boyfriend, since they were co-workers at a suburban bookstore and he seduced her five years before. She had been only 16. For the last three years, they had rented an apartment together, but he only lived there a few hours a day. He spent nights at home with his wife who traveled a lot in her work. Sometimes Melli and Lorenzo slept at his house when his lame duck wife was away. Melli was a senior in college, a straight-A student, and relatively innocent. She’d only had one boyfriend before Lorenzo, she said. I believed her. I also figured that she might have had many reasons for choosing me to pick on. Two things were clear to me. Melli wanted to broaden her horizons, which was fine with me. And she probably wanted to get Lorenzo’s attention, kind of like revenge, for testing her patience. We disengaged from making out long enough to exit the elevator and enter our suite. We hurriedly disrobed as Melli finished telling me how jealous Lorenzo was. There was no sultry strip tease by either of us. I was naked first. I sat on the bed and watched from the side view as Melli kicked off her jeans and panties. Her triple D sized breasts hung low because she was bent at the waist to untangle her panties from her foot, one hand on a chair to keep her balance. She looked at me and smiled. Instinctively, I had my dick in my fist as I massaged my erection. Melli moistened her lips as she stood up and took the few steps that separated us. I got my first look at the smooth lips of her pussy. A small patch of hair, slightly darker than the hair on her head, adorned to top of her slit. She leaned over and kissed me on my open mouth. It was a hungry, but short, kiss. She sank to her knees, breaking our lip lock, though our hands freely explored each other’s bodies. I embraced her and nibbled wetly on her neck, ear lobes and shoulders while we both caught our breath. One of my hands reached down to catch one of her ass cheeks, kneading the youthfully firm, abundant flesh in my fingers. Melli pushed me softly and tried to lower her head. As much as I would have loved to have her swallow my meat again, my desire to plunge deeply into that meaty hole was overwhelming. I quite forcefully shoved backwards and pounced between her open legs with my rod perfectly lined up. I guided the head of my dick to swipe her slit once. She already had opened like a flower, and her juice-slickened petals seemed to suck me inside of her. Right down to the root I lunged. We sang a moaning duet as I roughly ground into her, experiencing the gripping contractions of her inner walls with my head lodged against her cervix. Then I began a steady in-out motion, extracting only about half the length in each rotation. Every time I plowed to the hilt, Melli shrieked and I grunted. Our velocity picked up gradually. I looked down to where our genitals were joined. Her pussy juice kept squishing as I fucked her, and I watched the action of my black skin against her white skin, her inflamed, rosy labia clinging to me on each extraction. I looked at Melli’s face, her eyes pleading for more. No, it was mercy. No. She said it. “Fuck me. Fuck me harder.” I stepped up the pace and her mouth gaped open as if to howl, though all that was emitted were her rhythmic yelps about every third time I buried myself in her. Suddenly her luscious thighs flopped farther open with her ankles locked in the crooks of my knees. Melli started to heave her hips in time with my thrusts. I didn’t know which felt better, her mouth or her pussy. “Oh, ooo, Oh Mr. O’Neal,” she gasped as she pumped me even faster. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna CUM!” “Cum on, baby,” I cheered, gritting my teeth. I desperately wanted to join her, but I wanted the exquisite feeling to last a bit longer. “Cum for daddy, baby,” I said as she jerked and her entire body seemed to lock up. Melli’s eyes rolled up into her head as my nut sac instantly shrank up without warning. I chomped down on my bottom lip trying to keep from cumming myself. “OH GAWD!” she screamed and trembled. Her insides felt like a thousand tiny, hot, wet, fluffy fingers rippling all over my dick. “I’m cumming,” she huffed and reached up to hold onto my shoulders. She held on as if for her life, whimpering. She still was holding on as her spasm began to subside. Her body clenched in a series of involuntary aftershocks, and she limply lay back, laying spread eagle and still impaled. I allowed myself several long, slow strokes as Melli calmed down, and I slowly slid my pole free. I grasped it at the base and used the underside like a paddle to rapidly spank her clit. She flinched in pleasure while the action temporarily cancelled my leap over the edge. I helped her to sit on the edge of the bed. I stood over Melli as she laid back. She spread her thick, athletic thighs, licked two fingers on one hand and casually rubbed along the lips of her pussy. I was mesmerized as my gaze focused first on her digits, then her lustful expression and back to her dripping cunt. I was glad I was able to hold off. I could enjoy that lovely sanctuary again soon, but first I had to taste it. I knelt and planted dozens of little kisses from her left knee, up the inside of her thigh to her pussy lips, which got one closed-mouth peck. I resisted the urge to lick her there as I kissed my way down her other leg to her knee. Melli sighed and spread her legs farther, scooting back on the bed and placing her feet on the edge. My hands gently stroked the insides of both of her thighs as I stared at the way her box flayed open for me. At the bottom of her plump pussy lips hung her distended labia. I licked her once and glanced toward her face. Those gigantic boobs blocked my view. She was mashing one tit and pinched the nipple of the other. I licked her again and her hips lifted in search of more. So, I stuck my tongue inside, sealed my mouth around her pussy, and assaulted her with rapid-fire tongue pokes until fresh nectar began to flow. I was in heaven. Melli was there with me, purring like a voluptuous sated pussycat. I took over the manipulation of Melli’s tits with one hand while my mouth continued to devour her. With my other hand I slipped one, then two finger just inside her pussy lips. While I stroked the folds just inside the entrance I licked and sucked on her clit. Melli sucked in her breath and grabbed me by the hair on both sides of my head. I added a third finger inside her pussy, teasing and rubbing her inner folds rather than pumping her with my hand. All the while her clit was trapped between my lips and my tongue flicked it until she flooded my mouth and face. Melli clamped her thighs over my ears. It wasn’t enough pressure to smother me, but her moaning was quite muted. When Melli released my head I continued to gingerly lap at her juices until she wound down. I instructed her to kneel on the bed with her ass facing me. My dick was only a little less rigid than before I started eating her pussy. I rubbed meat up and down her hot, wet opening, and she looked back at me over her shoulder. As much as I wanted to, I knew I would not last much longer. This already had been the most fucking I had done in a couple of weeks, not counting jerking off. I knew I would be spent when it was over. I missed that youthful stamina. “Fuck me, Jay,” she said. She used my first name without my prompting. “Please put that big, black cock in me again,” she pleaded, gripping one of her cheeks and spreading her hole for me. How could I not oblige? The moment that my dick touched her entrance, Melli pushed back to meet me. She was so wet that I bottomed out before either of us expected. She screamed as my dick rearranged a couple of organs, touching places that apparently had never been reached, at least not by Lorenzo. Melli’s internal muscles gripped me and sucked me even better than her mouth did. I slapped her ass and started working in and out of her. I slapped the other side of her ass and proceeded to hump her like I had on blinders. Melli’s moans were muffled because her face and mouth were pressed against the bed. Melli’s pussy grabbed me like a vice. She let out a long, guttural moan and started to cum. And so did I. My head became light, my eyes bugged and I fell forward. My dick exploded like a fire hose with me locked as deep inside her as I had been that day. I continued to throb in her for several minutes after I came. I could feel my cum and hers overflowing. I collapsed on top of Melli. She rolled onto her side with me still locked and spooning her. I didn’t remember falling asleep. It was dark outside when I awoke. Melli was sitting in the chair in just her T-shirt with one foot barely touching the floor and the other one crossed under her knee. She was twiddling her hair and talking on her cell phone. “Lorenzo, I didn’t know my phone was off. I called you as soon as I got your message,” she said into the phone, smiling as she put a finger to her lips to hush me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lorenzo. I’m not sneaking anywhere,” Melli said to her obviously jealous, possessive boyfriend. The vision of Melli sitting in the chair in that T-shirt, one leg folded under and the other now raised and bent at the knee with a foot on the cushion as she slowly flashed her partially bald beaver at me, made me want her all the more. The shirt was stretched tight against her, accentuating her hard nipples. I learned that her breasts were super sensitive. She didn’t broadcast that fact because her chest already garnered more than their share of attention. She’d been fending off friends and strangers alike who constantly tried to feel up those mounds. She didn’t want everyone to know how easy it was to get her excited. Melli was listening to Lorenzo whine when I moseyed over and lifted her T-shirt. “She laced her fingers on the back of my head, holding me like a baby as I worshipped her pride and joy – that should be their names -- with my lips, tongue, teeth and hands. To keep Lorenzo from hearing her deep sighs, she pressed the phone into the cushion. “Fuck you, Lorenzo,” Melli shouted. “For your information, I dropped by work and got caught up talking with a couple of the girls. What do you care? You’re laid up with that ugly hog while all I do is wait for you.” Melli Black Ch. 02 She was a bad liar, but there it was, the coup de gras. I had been but a pawn, albeit a black pawn with a big dick that had vanquished the white queen. By making Lorenzo jealous, she felt avenged for him having made her wait around all the time. Actually fucking me might have been just a bonus for her and me. I didn’t care that I had been so manipulated. Like Bill Withers once sang, “Just keep on using me, until you use me up.” That’s how I felt. “OK, you jerk. The next time some guy wants to lick my pussy, I’ll call and ask you for permission,” she said into the phone. She hung up and immediately started to moan and sigh. Of course, we fucked again before I had to leave. I would have some explaining to do when I got home at about midnight. I called up the old out-with-the-guys lie. It always worked. Melli and I got together a few times after that first day and evening. As weeks passed, we saw less of each other. A month after we met, she told me that she and Lorenzo had bought a house together. He didn’t actually live there, but he was spending more time with her and less with his wife. Melli wouldn’t tell me where they live for fear that I would show up and mess up all the work she had put in. I still send her leads by e-mail about job opportunities, though Lorenzo won’t allow her to consider employment at my newspaper. She told him that we met, but not that we fucked our brains out.