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Melissa and Roland Ch. 01

By: chloejacobs83



This series is a follow on to 2 others – first Robert and Kayla and more recently Caitlyn's Treatment. It continues the BTS story from the perspective of a different character – a cuckold tied to one of the girls.

I liked running these little errands. It was my job and it made me feel good, like I was fitting in with the guys. Or at least being useful to them. Useful to Roland.

My only real worry was that I would miss some of the action. That Jack or Eddie would get the good calls while I was out.

But I ended up doing OK for myself, even if everything else ended in a disaster.

Chapter 1: Dressing Melissa - Aug 23 5 to 5:45 P.M.

Everything had been one big rush since 5 o'clock that afternoon.

It was a Saturday and Melissa and I were at home taking it easy. We'd spent a lazy day at the pool reading and chatting and swimming. I'd cut the grass, she knitted in the sun for a while. Now we were both showered and I was getting ready to grill shish kabob. She had done the salad and I had uncorked a nice red. Then the phone rang.

Melissa was on the couch with the T.V. low in the background. She had a crossword going and was wearing just sweat pant bottoms and an oversized man's tee shirt. She answered.

"Hello.....oh. Hi."

Something in her voice told me to wait there with the platter of uncooked meat and vegetables.

"Yes. Of course....No it's not a problem."

She listened.

"Certainly. OK."

Then she had to wait again.

"Yes. I understand. See you then."

She looked over at me and said "We're back on. His trip got cancelled."

I recorked the wine and went back in the kitchen to wrap the food. Wondering if we might get to it tomorrow.

We'd been expecting a quiet night and a quiet weekend. Roland had called Melissa on Wednesday to say that his plan for her was off. Some business meeting he had to attend and he would be flying out on Saturday afternoon. 

What that plan had been we never really knew, just that there was one. And then that it was off. And now it was back on.

Melissa started flying around the living room picking up and tidying. She called out to me to make sure the kitchen looked decent and that she had to go shower again. And could I lay out her things while she was in getting ready? And that Roland would be here in 20 minutes.

She had just showered but I understood why she would again. She'd want to run the razor over her legs again to make sure. And her armpits. And her crotch. And she'd want to use her special shampoo and conditioner and do her hair over. Then she'd need to get her face made up. And she would need a choice of outfits.

Melissa was never flustered. She'd been given instructions like this before knew what to do – which was to be very businesslike.

I quickly cleaned up the kitchen and made sure I had some beer and water in the fridge. Then I checked the living room again. I made sure I had all the right things in the liquor cabinet. And I had the red wine. Just in case the plan was for right here.

I went up to the bedroom to get her things ready. First I ducked my head into the bath area. I could see her shimmery outline behind the lightly frosted glass of the shower; saw her scrubbing between her legs.

"Causal or dress up or...?" There were a few more choices on that list.

"Casual...at least I think. At some farm or boathouse or something. Go with casual, there's no time now for anything else."

"Got it."

I heard her saying as I left "And if I'm wrong we'll just have..." But she wouldn't be wrong. I knew it.

I went into her walk in closet. Three years earlier I'd taken my first big bonus check and used it to have a wall knocked down to enlarge the master suite. Doubled her closet space, almost doubled the bath area, and installed an extra-large soaking tub and a walk in shower. We didn't know at the time how useful both would be.

Melissa has a large (and expensive) wardrobe and had one even before she met Roland. Since that time she's had to add quite a few items because there was a wider range of requirements for clothing. Not that it was a problem for her. She loves clothing, wears it well and keeps it well. The room was meticulously organized.

I had a lot of choices. But I was as used to this as she was. And it was always a pleasure to be in there by myself with her nice things.

In the end I picked out 3 skirts with matching tops, 4 summery dresses, a choice of 3 pair of shorts (one of the short-shorts variety) with the little tees she wears with them and 4 different pairs of sandals. I laid the clothing out methodically on the king sized bed we shared, giving them a nice display. It would make it easier for them to choose.

I went to her bureau drawer and got out the bra and panty sets I knew she liked for summer casual. A variety of styles, colors, patterns and trim. She could wear a set or mix and match.

I knew that she might not wear the underthings at all – but it was better to be prepared. Roland was a little unusual in that he often preferred her in panties and bra. So long as they were pretty sexy and easy.

By then I could hear the hair dryer going. Melissa keeps her hair relatively short for occasions when she needs to be quick. This had led to a little conflict with Roland, but she stuck to her guns on the issue and I was proud of her for it. She'd say "I'm glad to wear it longer for you – just promise me 60 minutes to get ready," then he'd grumble and drop it. The shorter hair came in handy. She would still have her makeup to do after that.

I went to her jewelry box and got a selection of the earrings. Got out her pearl tongue stud because I knew she had in the flat retainer. Got her favorite anklet and 2 of her waist chains. She already had on her wedding and engagement rings and her tiny navel jewel.

I laid the jewelry on one of the white tees so it would stand out for selection.

I was ready as I could be when she came out of the shower wearing her black and red dragon kimono. Roland had bought it for her a while back on one of their trips.

She was gorgeous. As always. She smiled at me, blushed and silently mouthed the words "I love you." I smiled back and nodded. I went back to work arranging the choices.

Melissa is 26 but could pass for younger. I'm 31. We're both in excellent shape due to years of hiking, biking and swimming. She had somehow been able to retain her curves without the body fat. Medium sized B cup breasts, an impossibly tiny waist, slender arms and shoulders, curvy hips and pear shaped bottom and the prettiest face I had ever seen. She was about 5' 5" and weighed no more than 125 lbs. Her reddish blonde hair came to the level of her chin in an angled bob. She had a slender neck with high cheekbones and delicate features, a cute small nose, a beautiful smile with rich full lips, perfect teeth and dark gray/green eyes. Her nipples were small and pink. Her pubic area trimmed just right to show puffy vaginal lips. A nice gap between her slender and shapely thighs helped show them off.

Soft, delicate, petite and completely feminine, that was Melissa. Most men seemed to go crazy over her figure and her face, understandably so. For me had always been her eyes.

Add intelligent, ambitious, friendly (but somewhat reserved) and a wicked sense of (dry, quiet) humor and you had about the entire package. Or maybe you first have to add her deeply submissive nature, and then you would have it.

Melissa had been a Miss Teen Oregon eight years earlier and to me looked like she could still compete, if not for the Teen title then certainly for the Miss Oregon title.

She checked the clothing I'd laid out and fretted a bit over the lack of her yellow summer dress. She knew Roland liked it and might notice. She looked over at me but didn't say a word. We both knew. I'd been supposed to pick it up earlier in the day from the cleaners but got lazy by the pool and told her I'd get it Monday. After all we had been expecting a stay at home weekend with just the 2 of us. But I knew what she was thinking and cursed myself for laziness.

Still, it was what it was, wishing wouldn't change it. And they still had lots of choices. So she said nothing and neither did I. Then we heard the car come in our driveway.

I ran down to get out the scotch Roland drinks. I opened the door and saw him walking up the path in our front garden. With him was his friend Marshall. Or his associate Marshall, or whatever he was.

"Hey Jeff."

"Hey Roland."

We shook hands in the doorway with Marshall standing behind him big as a house. Roland was dressed impeccably. He always was. The casual choice had been the correct one. He had on a white linen jacket, violet shirt, white tie, elegant pleated slacks and expensive looking loafers with no socks. I could smell the spicy understated cologne he favored.

I was used to him looking like this. He loved men's fashion the way Melissa loved hers. But it made his buddy Marshall stand out like a sore thumb. He was wearing a cheap and ill-fitting black suit and dark tie. A suit that looked like it needed a good cleaning before getting thrown out.

I nodded towards Marshall but he didn't nod back. I walked them into the living room and Roland said "She ready?"

"Yeah. Go on up. Trying to pick an outfit for you." Then I thought I'd be funny and said "You know women."

He didn't respond to that, just began to march up the stairs towards our bedroom. I called from behind him "Want a scotch Roland? Or anything else?"

He turned and smiled at me then and said "Thanks Jeff. Yeah to the scotch. Get Marshall one too and then bring mine up." And he headed back upstairs.

I went over and poured 2 scotches neat the way I knew Roland liked it. "Rocks for mine" said Marshall so I had to head out to the kitchen. When I came back in with ice Marshall was standing with his back to me, looking at some family photos we kept above the fireplace. "Two cubes." I added his ice and handed over the drink. He reached back for it without him turning around.

I stood watching his back for a bit and then poured a 3rd drink for myself. I took rocks too.

He turned to me with a framed photo in his meaty paw.

"This one of Mel in the bikini. That Hawaii?" The 'Mel' grated.

"Yeah."

"Honeymoon?"

"Yeah."

I'm pretty sure he knew I resented these personal intrusions. I'm pretty sure it's why he did it.

He put the photo back and turned and grinned towards me, or at least gave me what passes for a grin with him. He held out his glass of scotch to clink with mine so I reciprocated. We both sipped. And we stood there.

I wanted to take time to give Roland and Melissa privacy, at least a few minutes. I didn't think much would be happening up there since Roland seemed in a bit of a rush. Just in case. But it was hard standing in the living room silently with Marshall too. So I told him I was going up with Roland's drink.

When he followed me up the stairs I had had enough.

"You can stay here Marshall. The bedroom is our private space."

He grinned up at me. "Roland tell you that was the plan?"

"Well no he didn't...it's just...."

"Get moving."

So I figured I had no choice but to move. I mean what was I going to do? Fight him on the stairway with those 2 upstairs?

The bedroom door was half open but I knocked anyway. There was no response so I opened it gingerly and walked into the room, Marshall following. The first thing I saw was Melissa's kimono lying on the floor by the foot of the bed. She and Roland were on the far side of the bed where we have a small table and chairs in a little nook area. She had her back to me and was fresh, naked and still slightly ruddy from the shower. She held a dress up to her bosom, not for modesty of course but to give Roland an idea of what it would look like on her. Neither of them looked over when I went in.

I froze in place to look. She might have been in a Vermeer painting then. Motionless, silent, waiting. The early evening light streaming through the window on her pretty back and shoulders. Her bottom beautifully round, supple and alive. She glowed.

And it may have been selfish of me but I wished then that somehow things could be different. I just couldn't help it. It was a little ruined for me because I knew that Marshall had the same view.

Roland sat easily in one of the chairs watching her. Finally he looked over at me. She glanced over too and I could see her face had been perfectly made up in the 5 minutes she'd been alone. A little blush, subtle but rich red lips, and a touch of eyeliner to bring out her green irises. She was gorgeous.

"Thanks Jeff. Bring it over and join the party." I walked past Melissa, who now was primping to get the dress to hang right over her front. I handed him the drink and he took a small sip.

"We're having trouble deciding between this one and the other – the striped one on the bed there."

I looked at both dresses. The one Melissa held to her chest was a filmy muslin taupe with little puffy sleeves and a scoop neckline. Very girlish. It came to just above mid-thigh. I looked to the bed and saw the bolder diagonal striped dress – red/yellow/green/white alternating – which was probably 2 inches shorter and had more of a plunging neckline. A pretty sexy dress. 

But opaque.

I knew that the taupe was see-through in sunlight and almost that in any light. So I figured that it would be the way to go.

"Wanna help us decide? Baby, show him what you showed me just now."

I had retreated to the foot of the bed to give them their space back, and was joined there by Marshall. He hadn't said a word but was managing to fill the room. By then I was totally pissed at this invasion of privacy. It was our bedroom for God's sake. I concentrated hard on Roland and Melissa and tried not to make a scene.

Melissa turned to me with a wicked little grin, still holding the muslin to her chest, and said "Oh. I know which one he'll like." She said it in such a sweet way that I forgot about Marshall.

"No matter Mel. Show him both." 

She had always hated being called 'Mel' before meeting Roland, said it made her sound unfeminine. It was one of the rules she set for me from the time we met. But Roland was an exception to lots of rules. I wondered if Marshall was too given his question about the Hawaii photo, or whether that was just him trying to get to me.

She held the muslin with a hand above her breasts and took her second hand and flared out the bottom just a little to show what it was like. Melissa and I had bought the dress together about 3 weeks earlier so I'd actually seen it on her in the dressing room. I was pretty sure she hadn't worn it out yet.

She dropped the muslin on the bed – and I'm sure Marshall was enjoying that view– to pick up the striped dress. She held that one to her body the same way. Again she flicked out the bottom near her thigh to give me an idea of how it would fall.

"So what do you think Jeff?" came from Roland.

"I...." and took a sip of my scotch then just as he was, "...I think..." because I did want him to see me thinking it over. She might have already known my choice but I was hoping he didn't. I was hoping that he would take what I was about to say as thoughtful advice. We both like to play at my being his consigliere, at least on questions involving Melissa. 

"I think...think the muslin is really very sexy and sweet. She looks so innocent in it. See through almost and it really suits her."

Melissa turned back to Roland and again we saw her naked back and ass. She said "Told you so!" and stuck out her tongue fake bitch at him. And, oh dear!, does she ever manage to combine sexy, cute and bold when she's like that with him. Reminded me of all the times she had said to me "Tame me."

He laughed with her. "Yes, yes you did. Yes." 

He thought for a second. "You don't think the stripes add......?" He paused again frowning, said "Maybe not," and then "I think I'll go with Jeff's advice. Husband probably knows what looks best on his Mrs. Put it on Mel and we'll get out of here."

She put down the diagonal dress and stood before him naked. As she did she drove her eyes first to the panty and bra collections and then back to Roland. Asking should she?

"Yeah. I think. Want you sexy but classy for this. Not slutty." But he just meant in appearance.

He stood and looked down at the lingerie for a moment. Roland may have had expertise with men's clothing and fashion, but he honestly did need help when it came to dressing Melissa. He picked up a sheer blue bra that I knew would be wrong for the dress. He put it back, considered the others and ran a knuckle down the front of the yellow panties. It made me wonder whether he was thinking about that yellow dress. Then he smiled back at both Melissa and me and threw up his hands. "I dunno...all look pretty nice." He turned his head further toward me. "Jeff! Get over here and pick out some underwear for your wife."

I went to her side and caught the fragrance of her shampoo. I stood with them beside the bed. I'd already made my choice of course, the white lace triangle cup bra with and the matching bikini panties. Young, feminine, easy but with the seductive edge of old-fashioned modesty. The bra was perfect for her smaller breasts and the white would stand out under the filmy dress for everyone to see. They'd see what easy obstacles a man faced once he took that dress off. Which I knew was what beautiful lingerie did – made the woman more vulnerable, more open, more accessible, more female.

Melissa put on her waist chain, put on her anklet and then put on the bra and panties. She put on a pair of pearl earrings.

Roland swirled the cubes in his glass and said "I'll have one more while you two get ready. See you downstairs." He left with a little tap on her butt. Now that the decisions were made. I thought Marshall would follow him out but he never moved from the foot of the bed. We ignored him.

I got her tongue stud and Melissa slipped the dress over her head. I found the right sandals for her and got Roland's favorite perfume while she brushed out her hair again.

Finally I had a chance to ask as she checked herself in the mirror "So, do I wait here or ..."

"Oh, no. Roland..."

Marshall interrupted her. "You got a black suit? One like mine?"

The correct answer to that was that yes I had 3 of them but not so much like his. Mine probably cost 10 times as much, were clean and fit properly.

Instead I said "Yes."

"Go put it on. Dark tie too. Like mine."

Part of the mystery. What could Marshall and I be doing together that required us to dress alike? As I said I'm pretty used to it too – even if not from the likes of Marshall. If Roland had told me to do it it would have sounded like an adventure we were sharing, not an order. It would have been, not fun exactly but more like the excitement of travelling into an unknown world.

When I came out of my closet fully dressed Melissa was still primping at the mirror. She turned and smiled at me then came over and kissed me lightly on the cheek. Then rubbed off a lipstick print.

"You all set?"

"Yeah."

She bent her face to mine and tucked a tuft of hair behind my ear whispering "Don't let him get to you."

She said "Zip me up and let's get going." I did and led her down the stairs. Marshall following.

Melissa and Roland Ch. 02



Chapter 2: Real Love - Jan 2008 to Jan 2012

Well the reviews are in and I'm delighted to see the warm reception given to my Chapter 1! Thank you!

Now it's true that there has been some adverse criticism. Not much but some. And all of it constructive, incisive, and carefully reasoned. I appreciate it. I consider criticism a chance to learn from the reader - in particular the well-known Anonymous, who has now commented 3 or 4 times! Bravo!

There are however one or two things I should have pointed out to these readers before launching Chapter 1. I mean what with these darned porn stories being so darned confusing!

First, and I know I should have said this, this is a work of fiction. That means it never happened to me, will never happen to me, and in all probability will never happen to you or anyone you know. Fiction.

Second, it was after all Chapter 1. If you got confused hold on! It doesn't all happen in Chapter 1 sort of by definition.

Third, my intro specified the predecessor series to this one and told the reader it was about a cuckold. If you don't like that sort of thing then: hey! Who does? If you don't like fictional accounts of it then: hey! Why are you here?

Anyhow, here is Chapter 2. It provides a lot of the back story but has no real sex scenes, only reminiscences of some earlier sex. 

Oh! One more thing. The email account I tied to Literotica is busted. That means I cannot receive email feedback. I'll fix it one of these days but haven't yet. It probably means I'm missing some more incisive reader commentary but for now that cannot be helped.

Enjoy!! 

*****

You know it wasn't always like this.

A few years earlier you would have said that ours was a pretty conventional American marriage. Conventional but still better than most. We were deeply in love. We had a nice life, a life of fun, of mutual respect, of cooperation and consideration. Of great sex, exciting sex. Of understanding and trust.

We had money, we had youth and health. We travelled. We played, socialized, worked out and even shopped together. We had good friends but not too many. We had each other.

We loved getting high together, getting high just the right amount and then making love. Together with a few drinks a week it was our only vice. And making love that way just opened me up to where I felt I could really understand her needs. At least sometimes.

Of course we had some problems, just like every other couple. I had some issues with her spending; she had some issues with what she considered my lack of spontaneity. We prided ourselves on overcoming our issues together. We worked at it. We were best friends and lovers as well as being man and wife. And the differences seemed to us to be minor.

Melissa and I had started dating in her junior year of college. I'd been out of school a few years already and had a professional job in the insurance industry. I was earning good money which she liked, and I respected her for liking it. My career was going great and it became obvious that I'd be climbing the ladder over the next few years. I was already a manager and a good one. It came naturally to me.

Melissa had wanted someone with a real life. She told me she was just sick of college boys and their childish antics. She wanted someone more mature, more stable, more career and family focused. More grounded. And we both knew within a few weeks that I would be that someone.

The sex was amazing, or maybe in retrospect too amazing. From the time of our 2nd date the only question in my mind was whether I could keep up with her. I know it's a problem millions of guys wish they had. And I knew how lucky I was. Still, it was the one thing that made me a little nervous with her.

She told me from the start that she liked sex, but the kind of suggestions she made would leave me gasping for air. Like fucking in chest deep water on a public beach in Florida or blowing me in the bathroom at a graduation reception held by her college dean. She liked to be creative, liked taking risks, liked playing the submissive kitten and liked being a little wild. And she liked that I provided the stability that made her wildness OK.

"Go ahead and tame me." She would say with a sexy smile. And then add "If you can." 

I would think "Now there's the issue." But it became a running joke.

"Tame me" she said after I called her wild in her teenage bed when visiting her parents for Christmas. We were married by then. She had just proposed our first ever anal fuck, with her parents just on the other side of the wall, and her stuffed animals spread over the floor to give room for 2 in the single bed.

"I might."

And she would smile and say "Maybe you will," smile again and say "If you can."

It made me wonder about her sexual history, all this energy, all this cheerfully orgasmic try-anything energy. I never doubted her when she said "I just wasn't like this before. I had to find the right guy first - and believe me they don't exist in high school or college. At least not for me they didn't. Then I found you." She kissed me and I knew it was true.

From our earliest days we were open with one another about our pasts. For her it was 2 guys she'd both sucked and fucked, and 2 other guys who'd got as far as the blowjob level. Not nothing, but not exactly shocking for a girl who was, at that time, a junior in college.

For me it was about the same except the numbers were 3 for both and 2 others who had blown me. I was 5 years older.

After she graduated and we got married, Melissa found an entry-level marketing job with a cosmetics firm. She thought the cosmetics angle would make it glamorous. It didn't. 

It took her about a month at work to break down and cry about it. Her main problem was with her new colleagues.

"You have no idea it's like working with all women all the time, all the back biting and bitching and complaining."

"What about that guy Ed? Isn't he the manager?"

"Oh Ed! H's the biggest pussy of the group. Sits in the corner on his computer all day and you barely get a word out of him. At least the women speak to one another, even if it's mostly bitching. They're like best friends when you meet them. Then the minute there's a problem they all start blaming one another behind their backs. I find myself starting to do it and it scares me, to think that I'll become like them."

She wasn't happy there but didn't see any other great options either. I pampered her like crazy to try to make things better for her. To make up for her bad work situation.

After about 8 months, with her career going nowhere, we decided to try for a child. My salary and bonuses were growing rapidly and she would have been happy to get pregnant and leave her job for good. I felt we were on the verge of a dream life: beautiful wife and home, child coming, great job, good money, real love. And the child might tame her even if I never quite could.

For whatever reason the baby plan didn't seem to work. She was off birth control and it seemed like we were making love non-stop. We pretty much stopped smoking weed before we screwed. Just in case that was a factor. But every month her period just rolled in right on schedule.

Finally after a year of trying we sought out some medical help and got ourselves tested. The results were inconclusive. No major problems were found with either of us. My sperm count was said to be in the low normal range and her insides were found to be problem free. The only advice we got was to keep trying.

So we did. In the following year we twice thought that she was pregnant. Both turned out to be false alarms. I began to think we might have to adopt but didn't want to say it.

About 6 months after the second false alarm Melissa announced that she wanted to go back on the pill. Someone in upper management had finally noticed how smart and talented and hardworking she was. She was being considered for a supervisory slot in a newly forming group. A more creative marketing group than the one with all the women. 

So we decided to put off discussion of a baby for at least a year while she worked though her opportunity.

To be perfectly honest I was a little relieved. Not that I didn't want children. We both did. It was just that with so many disappointments in that area over 2 and a half years it would be nice to be able to make love the way we had before - just for us and not in order to produce offspring.

Melissa was happier now just being considered for the job. "I like working with the men so much better - they're straight forward, they tell you what they want and expect you to do it. They know how to be in control. Plus let's face it all you have to do is flirt just a little and they go crazy."

I winked at her and said "Oh, flirting on the job are we now? What's next?"

She stuck out her tongue at me and giggled. "I met with my boss's boss the other day for 2 hours. He's the total alpha-male type but he couldn't have been nicer. I complimented his tie and you would have thought I had sucked his dick."

So I said, trying to be funny, "Of course you like the men. It gives you a chance to wiggle your little butt for them."

"You sexist pig! Trust me I don't need to do that - well..." She paused and her eyes lit up. She giggled again "...maybe just a little. Cause it's fun to be a girl. And I do think they're going to offer me the job."

Maybe I was a bit more worried about it than I could admit to myself. But I'd seen plenty of senior execs at my own company and how they worked on beautiful young staffers. And there was another problem. Privately I worried that the job might not be right for her. She was smart enough and ambitious enough for sure. Smarter than me and I had made a good manager of a much larger group than she would have. But there were differences. 

At work I was fond of saying "It is what it is." I knew my role and knew what made me valuable to the company. Accept what was and do your best to make things better. Work hard every day; accept the screw ups, the management interference, and the office and customer politics. Follow the company and management line. Show genuine respect for superiors - those men got to their positons for a reason. Be helpful to them.

Melissa was different. It wasn't just in the bedroom that she could be a little wild, a little too creative and experimental, and a little impulsive. I worried that her rather naïve optimism was unsuited to the actual job they needed done.

But I kept it to myself.

We fell into the trap then of starting to make love a little less often each month. I was still completely attracted to her, and completely in love. That was never the problem. It was just the usual - career focus, hard work, exhaustion at night, social obligations, etc. Plus I knew that we both felt relief that we were no longer making love on a baby production schedule. 

We still made love, just not as often or as wildly as we had before trying for the baby. I think we had grown out of the weed habit for good, which might have made me a little more inhibited in the bedroom than I wanted to be. For her I mean. Secretly I knew that our love life might have frustrated Melissa more than it did me. Her libido still drove her out of control at times. And it made me more nervous than ever. 

Horny and bored were a dangerous combination for her. Once she wanted to suck my cock at my cousin's birthday party, just "for the hell of it." We hadn't made love for five days. She kept egging me on till I agreed out of embarrassment. So we found a private room and I tried to shoot fast before we could get caught. Melissa took the cum in her mouth and then raised a wine glass to her lips to drool semen into her Chardonnay. And brought the cloudy wine back to sip while she batted her eyes innocently at the other cousins and wives.

I wasn't just worried about her. I was worried about me. It had always been a case of me trying to keep up with her. Now it seemed like there was no longer any hope of that. She made me feel older than I was. I had the nagging thought that I was a disappointment to her, at least sexually.

Still I hardly worried about it day to day. Cause that was one little part of us. The love, trust and respect had never wavered. She and I were as committed a couple as any I knew of.

She had grown up Melissa Thompkins and now she was Melissa Thompkins Boyle and I was the guy who got to wake up next to her every day. That made me the luckiest guy in the world. Did I know it then? Of course I did. I was no one's fool. I knew it.

Right up until the time I took that trip to England.



Melissa and Roland Ch. 03



Chapter 3: Dicks, Eaters and Timeouts - Aug 23 5:45 To 8:30 P.M.

We're back to the present. Chapters alternate between the present and the backstory past of Jeff, Melissa and Roland. As this chapter opens Jeff has just finished dressing Melissa for some unknown event she is attending with Roland.

Warning - if you really dislike the slow buildup sort of story this one might not be for you.

--------------------

Often I get to drive Roland and Melissa to these events and it's really nice with me up front and them in the back chatting. I learn lots of interesting things from listening. About her. But about him too, about BTS and about the other brothers. I knew as soon as I'd seen Marshall that I wouldn't get to that time. 

He drove them. I followed. I didn't have much of a clue as to what was going on - a not infrequent occurrence. But still maddening. Melissa is much better than I am at dealing with this sort of uncertainty. I did as well as I could for both their sakes.

I was still pissed about Marshall's being in my bedroom while Melissa modeled the outfits, and now I was a little more pissed cause he was with them, and then even more pissed when I got lost. I got to north on Angell to what seemed like it would be the right area. To both sides of me - and he hadn't specified right or left - there seem to be about 6 roads spinning off in various weird angles. There were no signs I could see for anything like a Solder's Farm, or for that matter any farm at all.

So I pulled over into the lot of a lumber yard and dialed his number.

"Lost right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm just getting here. Let me drop them and I'll swing back. Where are you?"

"Remmlinger's Lum..."

"The old saw mill?"

"Yeah. I think..." But he had clicked off.

About 10 minutes later he came screaming across the gravel lot towards my car and slammed on the breaks to create a nice little dust storm. He rolled down the window. "Leave yours here. Come with me."

I wanted to object, no reason really other than a guy likes to have his own transportation. But when I looked at him I knew what the response would be: Had Roland told me to make that objection? So I didn't bother. I locked up and went with him.

A medium sized slender white guy of about my age sat at a long rustic dinner table drinking coffee. He glanced up at me and made a little face of displeasure.

"You Jeff?"

"Yes."

"Nice of you to join us." I didn't get it, the sarcasm. 

"I...what?"

"Nice of you to join us. Now that the work is done." He paused for effect. "I've been busting my ass here 4 hours. Girls are sitting to dinner already."

"I...well I don't know about that at all. I...I mean we...Melissa and I...we just learned about this 45 minutes ago."

He looked at me like he was trying to judge. Was I lying? He seemed to make up his mind although it didn't seem to improve his attitude. I'm thinking, "He's must be stupid. Doesn't he realize it's not up to me when we get here?"

Stupid or not it seemed like he wanted to joust with me. Why I didn't know.

"Just learned about it? What the fuck? They keep you in the dark even more than me."

His face had brightened into a crooked grin as if he enjoyed the fact. He'd probably enjoy it more once he figured out that I had no clue why any of us were here.

He put on a forced, obviously fake smile. Trying to establish dominance in our first meeting. I'd seen it in the office plenty of times. But after that fucking Marshall I was in the no mood for another dick who thinks he's God Almighty. I had earned a certain status with Roland and was not used to be questioned like this, certainly not by a white guy I never met at any event before. So I tried taking charge.

"Well...listen...who exactly are you?"

He looked surprised that I didn't know.

"I'm Jack. Jack with Jevon. Jevon and Beth?"

"Oh. So you are..."

"Right. His associate, her husband."

"Oh. OK then. And which chapter..." But he cut me off.

"I mean you know them, right? Know what this event is?"

I didn't see any way of faking it.

"Well, no. Not exactly. I mean I've heard of Jevon I guess." For the twentieth time I cursed Marshall's having been with Roland that day. Had he not been I would have been the driver and I would know what I was walking into.

He chuckled again, and beamed, now really enjoying his advantage over me. 

I finally took a seat opposite him. Didn't seem like he was going to invite me to. Hell I didn't need an invitation anyway. It just seemed like I did.

"It's the welcome dinner, initiation time. Jevon and Beth. Robert and Kayla too. You heard of them?"

"Just a little." I had heard the name Robert in relation to Jevon but didn't know much about them, just enough to associate some kind of trouble with the names.

"Two newest member of The Eight. I help Jevon. Well I guess technically Jevon and Robert but really mainly Jevon."

He paused and looked at me.

"We flew in last night. It pisses me off they don't hold these important dinners at the National House - right down the street from us. Especially for Jevon."

Then I got to smile down at him. I was pretty sure I knew why but didn't say anything. Roland would have taken this event to hand and planned it so it was convenient for him. Or maybe the point was to make it inconvenient for them. You never could tell with Roland.

"Anyway we were just hanging around all day so by around 2 Jevon sent me over here to make sure things were ready. Naturally, they weren't. That douchebag Ed was farting around getting nowhere. Why I had to take over. Did most of the prep myself."

He paused to brood and the looked at me as if for the first time. "You're with Roland, right?"

Nods.

"Roland and Melissa?"

"Yeah."

"Just got my first look at her. Cute girl."

I wanted to whack him in the head then as he sat sipping coffee. I think we were both aware that he had never offered me a cup. And that he had more or less insulted both Melissa and Roland - and I guess me too - with his condescending 'cute girl' remark. He was going to be one of those difficult husbands - a dick.

Technically all members of The Eight are equal. The reality was that the group took its cues from Roland. He was the leader. That gave Melissa status. It gave me status.

He went right on. "You an eater?"

I shook my head no. Wondering how I could shift out of this mode where he was interviewing me.

"Too bad. Me neither. We got that guy Eddie. Out running errands right now. He'll have to carry the load or the loads or whatever." He smiled at his own joke.

An 'eater' is a husband or boyfriend of one of the girls who enjoys going down on her after she's been fucked by her man. I was used to the terminology although the BTS brothers hardly ever used it themselves. I knew Eddie fairly well from previous events. Jack was right about him, an eater and a guy who could fart around with the best of them. Licking up a brother's cum was his thing - not mine however, and apparently not Jack's as well.

I asked "Who's here?"

"Man you really are on a short leash, aren't you?"

I remained impassive.

"Well let's see. Most I'm just seeing for the first time. But there's Jevon and Robert of course - guests of honor. And there are the 2 brothers they replace - Ralph and DeMarcus."

I digested that. So Ralph and DeMarcus were both out. I wasn't totally surprised. I knew their terms were about up - just didn't know exactly when it would happen.

"Then there's your man Roland. And Henry and ...I don't think I ever heard the last guy's name. Plus three of the brothers are missing." He made another of his faces at that - seeming unhappy that a brother would miss the event for Jevon. "Take a look. The girls are eating right through that door there."

From the list he gave me 4 names from The Eight were missing: brothers Samuel, Gordon, Kyle, and Rajon. So I looked through the cracked door to see what was up.

Melissa was at the head of the table as befitted her stature as Roland's owned woman. She was deep in conversation with a real beauty I'd never seen before - and I deduced that it must be Beth, Jevon's woman. The second girl I didn't recognize must be Robert's Kayla. Then there were Maggie, Kelly, Courtney and Brooke. All chatting amiably, all looking beautiful. All looking excited and girlish and happy and lovely. They didn't notice my peeking at them.

I looked back at Jack. "Brooke is here which makes it Kyle." 

He nodded back at me.

Ralph and Kyle were the 2 brothers who frequently called for an eater. Gordon did on occasion but he was one of the absentees. Eddie would be busy enough with just the first two.

I looked back at the girls. Then looked back at Jack sipping his coffee. One of the problems we'd had was that too many of our girls were single. The retirees Ralph and DeMarcus owned Maggie and Kelly - both single girls. Henry owned Courtney, who was married to Eddie. But Kyle had Brooke (single), Samuel had Erin (single) and Gordon had Deena (single.) Rajon had Pam who was married to Arnie, but since Rajon very seldom made the meetings we seldom had Arnie's help.

So I was pleased about one thing. The 2 retiring girls were single and at least Beth had this douchebag Jack. I didn't mind at all that he had done so much of the prep work - which of course I couldn't have helped anyway. I'd been to enough events where there was only me, or only me and Eddie to do it all.

I tried again to assert myself. Roland would expect it.

"OK. They look like they're about done. Time to dress them. I'll take that and you can go check on the guys to see if there's anything else they need before their dinner." I tried my best to say it with authority, and I resisted the inclination to end with "OK?" It didn't help all that much.

"Nah. Jevon told me no. Make myself scarce till the girls serve. We can dress them together. Plus I'd have to do your little Melissa anyhow. Jevon told me that's the rule here."

He pointed behind me to the rack of maid uniforms that had been wheeled into the pantry. I nodded reluctantly to him and went in to call the girls. This time I knocked, paused and walked in to their dining area.

I introduced myself to the newcomers Beth and Kayla. I may have been aggravated by the dick Jack, but I couldn't help but admire the new girls, thinking "One stunner and one lovely - not too bad!" I air-kissed the girls I knew on the cheek. I air-kissed Melissa and we touched fingertips. And they filed out to the kitchen to get dressed.

Part of the ritual of these introduction dinners for The Eight was that the girls were not allowed to undress or dress themselves. The servants or associates - meaning us - did it for them. Which was a pleasure of course. One of the perks of my position I suppose, though I doubt that's why they had the rule.

The other tradition was that no man took his own wife. So I ended up with Beth, Kayla and Brooke. Jack took Melissa, Maggie and Kelly. I grabbed Courtney over to me to make 4 to his three.

Each of us lined up his girls and began to remove their dresses. They were all dressed cute, sexy, casual but of course I thought Melissa in her muslin with peek-a-boo white lingerie looked the best. They were quiet now- each girl thinking about her role and who might select her. I could see the anticipation mixing with excitement and nervousness. We carefully removed their dresses, making sure not to muss their makeup or hair. Only one of mine, Courtney, wore lingerie. Two of his, Melissa and Kelly.

It is one of our greatest pleasures to be able to strip a girl of her bra and panties. I made sure to be kneeling behind Courtney rolling the tiny pink bikini panties down her legs when Jack went behind Melissa to undo her bra. He was grinning over at me like a madman. I made my way over to his wife Beth and helped her step into the French maid's outfit, making sure he could see me graze her tits as I pulled it up. He giggled at that, tugged Melissa's panties to her knees, paused to get a good look at her ass from up close, giggled again and then finally removed them.

You know that saying from football when a guy overdoes it after scoring a touchdown? "Act like you've been there before." I wished then I could say it to Jack, who was not only a jerk and a dick and a douchebag but pretty unprofessional as well. The fact that he really hadn't been here before - undressing a woman for The Eight - was no excuse. He should have been better prepared.

Once we had all the girls outfitted we busied ourselves hanging and caring for the clothes we'd removed - they would need them again shortly. The girls checked each other, checked and primped.

We had timed it correctly. Eddie came in from his errands to say Roland had sent in word. Time for dinner. Time for the girls to go to work.

During dinner there wasn't much for the 3 of us guys to do. We were not allowed in the room where the girls served the meals. I had never completely understood that given the other things we would see and hear. But I supposed the guys were discussing private BTS business. The girls would hear whatever was said of course, but they were given that privilege because of their submission, because they were owned. They were higher in the pecking order.

We found the makings of sandwiches in the fridge. The girls were serving the men from a caterer's truck and didn't need the kitchen, so it would be ours for the next hour or so. We ate silently for a while and then Jack broke the ice.

"So this is The Eight. Pretty glamorous!"

We ignored that so he tried a different tact.

"So you guys know about Jevon?"

I said "Not really" and shot a quick look at Eddie. There's a rule within The Eight that we don't discuss the men, the brothers. Keeps us from getting all gossipy which of course could lead to trouble. Eddie and I knew and that little look I gave him cemented a conspiracy: let's let the prick hang himself with his big mouth. These things have a way of coming out after the fact.

"Well, he's totally the best. You'll see." He looked at us both as if to see if we wanted to challenge him. He found blank faces and so went on.

"Probably worth better'n $100 mill. Stocks mainly. Property too. And real property, not just pussy." He smiled his weird smile at us again to let us know how much he enjoyed his own sense of humor.

"Has had Beth now 3 years, owned her most of it. I introduced them." He paused again to look at us with what might have been his modest look, like he was saying he was what made it happen, that none of this happens for Jevon without him.

"And fastest riser ever in BTS. One year in the Second Twenty. Eighteen months in the First. Two and half total into The Eight. Kayla told me and Beth that no brother had ever gone in faster than like 4 years before him."

Now he checked us for a reaction. We'd let him go far enough overboard so I offered mine. "Well it is impressive but you need to know that in The Eight we don't discuss the brothers. Not allowed." I smiled over at him. My chance then to condescend a bit.

Eddie piped in too "Yes, Jeff is spot on in this. Not done. Not cricket. Gets a man a no pussy if he's found doing it. A minimum of no pussy."

Eddie may have been an old fart who affected these Briticisms because of his role on the faculty of a big deal college - British literature was his field - but he could be counted on to help take down a jerk when needed.

Although actually I was impressed. Even allowing for exaggeration, which I figured would fit with the little I knew of Jack, the $100 million figure was up there even for BTS. I knew Ralph was reported to be worth in excess of $125 million from his chain of supermarkets in the South, and that Rajon had about $80million from his real estate business. But the average net for The Eight was probably closer to $50 or $60 million, and Roland was somewhere around that number.

You didn't need gossip to find these things out. There was no rule against internet research and we all did it.

Even more impressive, although I'd worked hard not to show it, was the two and a half year rise into The Eight. Most brothers took 5 or 6 years to make it. Roland himself spent 2 years in the Second and 2 and a half in the First. 

Jack made a face at us, understanding what we'd let him do. I watched him struggle a little to control his anger. But he was a trier, so he kept going, this time by trying to lash out at Eddie.

"So Eddie. Tell me about being an eater. You really like licking that shit out of the girl's cunts?"

As I noted he was pretty unprofessional. And Eddie had no problem taking him on. He'd been at this a while and it was hardly the first time one of the servants had wanted to challenge him. If you take the time as I had to become friends with Eddie he tells you the truth, which is that he knows it's weird but he likes it and Courtney likes it so he does it. If you challenge him he makes it sound like you're the idiot who is bypassing one of the great joys in life. His university debating skills were impressive. So I sat back and enjoyed watching him toy with the douche.

After the debate with Eddie things eased a bit and we fell into discussing time outs we'd experienced.

Over the past 2 years I'd only had 3 pussy time outs. One was for calling Melissa a slut when I was drunk. Penalty: two weeks no pussy. Roland was lenient because I was so new at the life at the time, and because he could see how sorry I was. The incident had occurred only a month after her permanent tattoo. The other two offenses were considered worse and each got me a stiffer penalty. 

The second occurred when Roland was having a dinner with 3 junior BTS members and Melissa was there to serve together with 2 other girls. I was there just hanging out and watching. Standing by in case I was needed. All night long the girls were getting their asses and tits pinched and slapped and groped as they served. About an hour into the dinner I was so overheated watching things that I made a big mistake. Having a raging hard on will do that to a guy.

Melissa was walking back to the kitchen right in front of me and I reached out and slapped her behind. It wasn't a bad slap, more like a love tap in the spirit of things. But Roland had seen it and chewed me out mercilessly after the other guys left. It was the only time I've seen him visibly restraining anger. That was a two month timeout.

And the third was just stupid: failure to show respect for Marshall by arguing with him over some idiotic demand he'd made of me. The penalty was one month and that one I really resented. He, Marshall, wasn't even BTS.

Other than those 3 times I'd been on pussy which meant that Melissa and I got to make love when she wasn't occupied with Roland or with other BTS duties. Early on it worked out to 2 or 3 times per month that she and I would make love. Lately it had become even more since Roland was incorporating me into her training regimen. And it was wonderful, for her I think as well as me. Probably because we were more in love than ever.

Turned out Jack was way worse off. He had no shame at all in telling us about the dozen or so times he'd been on a time out with Beth over the last year. Some of the incidents were pretty mild but generally got him a month from Jevon. Things like screwing up a wine order while Beth was at Jevon's place helping him train another slut. Or disturbing his wife's attention while some brother fucked her in the ass. Other incidents were more serious. He had for instance gotten drunk while serving at a BTS event and compounded the error by arguing with Jevon over getting to watch Beth get fucked. Penalty that time: 3 months. Altogether he was off pussy way more than on and claimed that he had only made love with Beth 8 times in the last year. But he said it with a big smile on his face, like it was a badge of honor.




Melissa and Roland Ch. 03



The funniest story was about the aftermath of the arguing incident. When his penalty was done Beth was still so pissed at him for what he'd done that she put Jack on her own indefinite time out. Jack knew better than to complain to Jevon about what she had done, but 3 weeks in she herself let it slip to Jevon. Jevon was pissed that she was overriding his judgment of penalty with her own. That put her in the doghouse. Her penalty: 3 successive nights of sucking and fucking Jack, which I noted with satisfaction was almost 40% of his total for the entire year.

Worst off - and I'd already known this - was Eddie. He'd made love with Courtney twice in the last year. And liked it that way. He had, shall we say, other things occupying his sexual attention and was more or less on semi-permanent time out.

And then the first of the girls, Kelly, came bustling in and said dinner was over. We had to go back to work.



Melissa and Roland Ch. 04



Chapter 4: A Confession - Jan 2012 to March 2012

Thanks to all for the feedback on earlier chapters. It means so much to a writer to get positive notices!

Enjoy!!

*****

My insurance company was buying a smaller firm in Cambridge, England and needed to send a team of people there to work out the operational details. The position of team lead for this group of U.S. employees was going to be high profile (dotted line to the CEO) and very much a stepping stone into senior management and all that goes with it.

And I played it exactly right. A few quiet conversations with people that I knew would influence the decision. Nothing overt. No begging. No trying show up the other candidates. Just very quiet and methodical. So that when the decision came in I was not even a little surprised that I had been selected.

The job meant moving to England for 3 months with only one company reimbursed trip back home. They weren't being cheap, they were being reasonable about the fact that I'd be working non-stop. I just knew I had to take it. 

And knew that Melissa would support me in that decision. Which she did. Completely.

During the 2 weeks before my departure the old fire started burning again - big time. We probably made love in that period more than we had over the previous 3 months. And I discovered a new passion that I knew she loved: eating her pussy.

I told you that Melissa was a more experimental in sexual matters than I was. From the time we started dating she would suck me off and swallow or take a facial almost anytime and anywhere. Which makes me all the more embarrassed that I hardly ever returned the favor. I mean I had gone down on her and even had brought her to orgasm that way but I had maybe done that once for every 10 times she blew me. Why I still don't know. Maybe I was too worried about doing it right. Maybe she was too nice to insist.

In any event I started eating her pussy then like mad and within a few days had figured out how to bring her to an explosive orgasm through a combination of fingers hooked in just right to her G-spot and a soft sweet willing tongue and set of lips on her clit. It was lovely. How had I overlooked the absolute deliciousness of her cunt all this time?

So when it was time to leave I went off feeling like the King of the Jungle. She was my woman. I was her man. Everything about her excited me so completely. And now I felt like I was doing the same for her. I went away feeling like we were more in love than ever. To be completely truthful I still believe that - that Melissa and I had entered a new zone of love, of complete love and trust and respect, in the time before Cambridge. 

We had promised that we would Skype and chat and text and call nonstop, and we both did. For the first few weeks at least. After that it may have slowed a little but I knew that Melissa was still my number one priority. So I checked in with her frequently to make sure she was safe and happy and comfortable. And each and every time she was fine. 

She did in fact get promoted to supervisor then, while I was away, and that gave her a raise to something which was finally respectable. She seemed a little dazed at times and maybe a bit anxious and frazzled but I figured it went with her increasing responsibility and workload. Plus I figured I was probably the same. So all seemed good.

About 5 weeks into my project, with things going better than any of us had hoped, I decided to take that one week respite back in the U.S. During that week it was understood that I would show up at the office regularly enough to give senior management all the stroking and updating they could stand. Other than that I could let my priorities be to rest up, to recharge and to focus on my home life. Which is exactly what I did.

The first few days were great. Melissa met me at the airport, took me home and gave me all the kisses and sweet words I wanted. Then she had to get back to work for some late afternoon meetings. I unpacked and did a little laundry. Then I napped.

When she got back in the door at 6 I had the romantic music playing and dinner on the table. We both had so many work stories to tell I finally had to drag her away from the wine and get her into the bedroom to strip her, kneel before her and open up her oyster with my mouth and tongue. Delicious. And for her orgasmically delicious.

The next couple of days were similar. She did seem the tiniest bit nervous and strange, but I chalked it up again to the pressure at work. Melissa had tried to get the week off so we could be together but then her closest colleague came down with the flu and her boss had to say no at the last minute. I did my best to understand for her sake. It was what it was. 

Still we could reprise that first evening starting around 6 or 7 and we did, at least twice we did. For on the 4th night into my stay things changed. A lot.

It began well when we got into bed that evening. She gave me a blowjob, a very nice one too. And then I was scooching down under the covers to return the favor when I heard:

"Jeff?"

"Yeah. So sweet here honey."

"Jeff." A little more insistently I thought.

"Yeah honey, what is it?"

"Jeff. We need to talk."

"We do honey and we will. But not right now. OK? It's dark down here but I think I see a little clearing in the forest and there appears to be some sort of tribal god or statue. She's all red and pink and wet looking and she's demanding that I worship her with my mouth so..."

"Jeff! Not right now please. Can we just talk? Can we? Before I lose my nerve?"

That certainly got my attention. So my head rose up from under the covers and I could see her face pretty well by the low light we kept on for lovemaking. And her face told me. Something at least. Not everything of course. But something.

"Sure baby. What is it?" And I remember I thought right away that it must be something at her work, like something she had screwed up, maybe something that was going to get her demoted or, God forbid, fired. Which would be terrible for her. So I was all ears.

"Jeff. While you were away...something...something happened."

I scooched up beside her and took her hand. I wanted her to be able to say whatever was bothering her in her own way and at her own speed. So I just nodded.

"Something happened with me...or to me"

A cautious "OK."

"And I need to tell you. I didn't want to because of your job and all the pressure. And I wanted you to enjoy your week. But I just can't anymore."

With that she burst into tears. To my astonishment. She had never been one to cry very much.

I shifted over to kiss her cheek but she shrugged me away.

"What is it Melissa? What's bothering you?"

She reached for a tissue to dry her eyes. Tears were falling on her beautiful breasts.

"Oh My God. I'm such a loser. I can't even say it."

"Go on. Of course you can honey. Whatever it is. Cause we'll handle it. Together. Like we always do."

But now I was thinking it was really serious. Like she really had been fired. Or got into some legal trouble. Or, God forbid!, that she was sick. That she was in real peril.

My arm went around her and I helped dry her tears. My head was buzzing with anxiety for her, but I waited while she cried some more.

"Melissa. Please. I have to know if I can help you. Please. What is it?"

She looked away and blew her nose. Then dried her tears again. When she turned back to me her face somehow looked hard, hard and determined. My head snapped back a bit at the sight. Her lips were pursed together, her jaw clenched. I thought then that maybe it was me. Was she was pissed at something I'd done? What had I fucked up?

"Jeff. I've been cheating. Cheating on..."

"Cheating how? At what?" Because I couldn't make sense of it at first.

"On you Jeff. I cheated. I slept with a man."

Then I got it. Oh my did I ever get it then. And shot up out of the bed. Like I'd been hit with a taser.

"What? What are you telling me? Some guy - you let some guy fuck you?"

"Jeff, please. Let's not..."

"Let's not what?"

"Let's not scream at each other. Please!"

So I screamed a little louder. "You let him fuck you?"

Then I was moving up and down the room, clenching my fists as I went. I don't know what I was thinking then. It wasn't good. I was marching around the bedroom barking "He fucked you? You let him?" All the time wondering where and how and why and who and how could this happen to me? But it felt like the inside of my head was on fire.

When I turned back she was in full tears mode again and I thought something really bad about her for the first time ever. I remember it exactly. It was "Cunt thinks she can get out of this with tears, she got another thing coming." But maybe thinking something bad was necessary then. I had shocked myself a bit with the thought and it had the effect of calming me down a little.

"Stop!" and I repeated it. "Stop Melissa. You don't cry and I won't scream. Is that a deal?"

And you know she stopped crying then kind of on a dime and I had my 2nd bad thought about her ever. "Pretty convenient for a slut to be able to turn them off and on like that."

She got up on the far side of the bed from me and put on her robe. She said "Let me make some tea. We can talk."

"OK. Fine by me. Just tell me first, who was it?"

"Well who is not important."

"Yeah right. You let some guy fuck you and then tell me it's not important."

"That's not what I said. I said who did it wasn't important, not that it happened isn't important."

"Yeah. Sure." But she was gone out of the bedroom to make that tea. And her answer turned out to be the biggest lie of the evening.

We ended up staying up that night until 3 A.M. After that I slept a little till maybe 6. I don't think Melissa ever slept at all. And when I woke up at 6 she was gone. To work. Supposedly.

What I had learned between 10:30 and 3 A.M. was this: that his name was Roland, that no he wasn't a co-worker, that her brother had hosted a dinner party two weeks after I left and had introduced them, that Roland was a gentleman, that he was kind, that he was funny, intelligent and rich, that he had asked for her number right there at dinner in front of the brother, that he was black, that she was attracted to him but knew she shouldn't be, that he had a way of being insistent without seeming rude or a jerk, that she said no to giving him the number, that she took his number when she wouldn't give him her own, that she stewed over it for a few days but never called him, that a week later he called her having got her number from "somewhere," that she finally agreed to go out but just for one drink, that they ended up going to dinner, that he brought her back to his condominium, that he fucked her there and that she had spent the night.

And also that she'd done something similar either 7 or 8 more times since then. And somehow it really bothered me a lot that she didn't even know the total. That they'd spent the day before my return fucking. That she still loved me. But that she loved him too. That she couldn't promise it wouldn't happen again. And finally that she thought it would happen again. Which was her way of telling me that she could promise one thing: that she'd be spreading her legs for him again in the near future.

"But why? Why?" I kept saying. "And why did that asshole brother of yours introduce you to begin with."

"Oh! Leave Brian out of this. It's complicated enough."

"Asshole has always had it in for me." And I know I was right about that. The two of us had never hit it off and after various run-ins early in my relationship with Melissa basically had stopped talking altogether. I knew a few bad things about him and he knew that I knew. So I didn't really have to wonder what "somewhere" had magically delivered her number to the other asshole, the one banging my wife. The asshole Brian had pimped out his own sister to fuck with my life.

Still there was no way forward on that front. So I retreated on the Brian thing.

"But why - I mean why for you? Why would you? How could you?"

She sniffled into a hankie. "He's nice."

"Nice! Holy fuck! Am I not nice?"

"Of course you..."

"Have I not been nice and kind and faithful to you?"

"Yes you have." She reached across for my hand then, but I pulled mine back in time.

"Then why?"

I tried glaring at her but she met my eyes anyway.

"Jeff. A woman doesn't always know why. Some things just are. They just happen."

I wasn't letting her get off with that bullshit.

"Listen. Letting a guy fuck you after three years of marriage doesn't just happen. After us trying so hard for a baby." And I'm wondering: did she get herself back on the pill cause of her job or just in order to fuck this guy? "There's a reason. And you owe it to me to tell me." I was trying to control my voice. Trying not to shriek.

She was almost not crying and the tea untouched in front of us. "You're right. I know you are."

"Yes?"

I could see her trying to gather her courage. And she did taste the tea then for the first time.

"Well. He's nice...but he...he's...he's just good at some things I guess. Some things I need. He takes charge...he is in charge I mean...and he pushes me. Challenges me to do certain things."

"Pushes you? How? What's that mean?"

"Well lots of ways. I know you're probably going to think it's just sex, but it's not. He's very direct and forceful, gets me going, and gets me to take risks, like at work. He's helped me so much with work. He gets me focused, gives me courage to be myself."

She paused for more tea even though I was pretty sure it would be cold by then.

"That's it?" Thinking how he couldn't possibly have done any of that before their first fuck. She was lying.

"Well no ...not really." She paused, sniffled and got her hard face back again. "To be honest it is sexual too." She saw me cringe but went on. "It's like when I'm with him sometimes I feel like my head is going to blow off. Or like I can't breathe. Like I can't keep up with him. He's demanding and ...aaaah...pretty forceful. Like he's in control of me."

"Fuck." Was my entire reaction.

"I'm sorry but I'm trying to tell you the truth. And I...well to be honest...I...I have always needed that, have needed to be controlled, controlled by a man. You ought to know that. Do you? Do you know what I mean? Can you understand that? That I've always had the need?"

And I felt my heart sink then. Cause I did know. I knew exactly what she was talking about. She really did want to be tamed. All those times I'd worried about keeping up with her were times when her need got the better of her. And I knew those were times I didn't have what she needed. At least not sexually. Maybe not in other ways too. And apparently this asshole Roland did.

But I couldn't give up. I had to fight. To fight for my life it seemed at the time.

"Well don't I? Don't I make you cum? I thought..."

"Of course you do."

"And didn't I get you to take risks at work, like the supervisor position? When you weren't sure?"

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"

"It's different with him. I love you Jeff. I will always love you. Always, always, always! But it's different. And no you didn't want me taking risks at work, you told me just to follow orders, to play it safe, to climb the ladder slowly. You know like you do it yourself. But I'm different than you are."

She looked at me a little weepy but then her face hardened again as it had before.

"And sex with you is nice. I do like it." She had said it in a pretty gentle, innocuous way, as if describing gentle, innocuous sex. Do you know what it's like to have the most desirable girl in the world tell you that sex with you is "nice?" 

"You do make me cum when we make love. You make me cum because you know I want it."

"Yes...and? I mean how is that a bad thing?"

"Oh. It's not, not at all. But Roland makes me cum because he wants it. Because he knows what he wants and takes it. He makes me do things. Things he ...things he wants. Things he just takes."

She was crying a little when she said this and so technically she was breaking our rule. But I didn't feel like screaming back anyhow.

"So he makes you do things in bed. Big fuckin' deal. I could..."

"No...no you can't. Don't you see? He makes me do things, things I've always wanted to be made to do. Things I've needed to do for a man. And that's just not you. I'm sorry. It's not."

She looked at me solemnly through the tears, begging me to understand. And I think I was beginning to.

"And you like that? You really want to be dominated like that?"

"Oh My God yes." It almost burst from her lips - she'd been dying to get it out.

I took a breath and finally asked directly. "Do you love him?"

She hesitated but just for a second. "I...I...think I do. I mean I do. I love him." What was left of my anger and confidence evaporated. She loved him. It was over. Lies or not it was over.

So I tried being mean. "Maybe you just want to be his slut."

"Don't do that Jeff. Don't be nasty. Please!"

"I'm not. I'm really asking cause ..."

"Both then." 

"What? Both what?"

"Both I love him and I want to be his slut." And I could see it made her feel better to say that, to admit it.

I could feel my anger rising again. 

She looked at me sadly. "It just is what it is."

She saw it in my face and tried to soften it. "Isn't that what you always say?" Like she was surprised I didn't think using one of my pat office sayings was useful in a case of adultery.

"You just like the way he fucks you. You just admitted you're a slut."

"Jeff!" Now she was almost screaming. "I also love how we make love. It's sweet and gentle and loving and ..."

"What the fuck! You make me sound like a pussy."

"No..."

"You are. You're saying I'm a pussy."

"No Jeff. I never ..."

"But you are. Go ahead and say it. Say I'm a pussy who won't demand cunt service from you the way you like. Who won't fuck you in the ass so your parents can hear you scream."

"Jeff. I... Don't you see? Don't you see the difference? And if that makes you a pussy then..."

And then it all broke inside me.

"You fucking cunt. You fucking slut of a whore of a cunt. You're calling me a pussy? Why? Cause I went down on you all those times at night and made you cum? I'm sure Roland what-the-fuck would have been driving his cock up your ass instead so you'd be happy."

"Jeff. Please." And she was crying pretty hard then.

"Stop. Enough. This fucked up marriage is over. As of now. Over. You can have all the black cock in your ass that you want now. Happy?"

And I walked into the den and slammed the door. Amazingly I was able to sleep a little. I had no idea why I had focused my rant on him being in her ass. It just seemed right at the time.



Melissa and Roland Ch. 05



Chapter 5: Selections - Aug 23 8:30 P.M to 11 P.M.

Well it's actually just a story of boy meets girl – who then meets another boy. Jeff did want to divorce her. But in the end he does not. The why is intended to be the obvious one: he loves her deeply and believes (correctly in the story) that she loves him deeply as well. 

Do I find any of this plausible? Or morally acceptable? Do I think it's a guide to life for the rest of us? No, of course not. Neither was the plot of Moby Dick on which a good deal of this is based. That was a joke and liable to incite the readers who don't understand fiction or fantasy or jokes.

If you hate it then stop reading: NOW. (Good luck with that one.)

I find many of the comments impossible to understand. What exactly are you people talking about? For the record I am a white woman with no direct experience in any of this - none. I have never been in a sexual relationship with a black man and have no particular interest in doing so. I confess I don't even know (personally know) a single interracial couple. And I certainly do not know anyone in a cuckold type relationship, either black or white.

I do know of cases of infidelity. Some end in divorce, some do not. 

I find it interesting that we have the word 'cuckold' at all. When a husband is unfaithful we don't say the wife was 'cuckolded,' evidence that the concept is based on the idea of a man's property right in his woman, and that her sleeping with another man is evidence of his powerlessness in getting his property back. Its day has come – and gone.

But what if a husband and wife decided to live with her inability to be fully sexually satisfied by him? What if she needed domination he could not provide? What if she needed a steady partner for that? And what if he was black? What if they loved each other so much that the solution of staying together was best for them? And just for them – not for everyone in the world. And what if it got truly weird (as the introduction of the BTS life certainly makes it)? What if the husband does benefit? Does grow to like it? These 'what if's are the beginning of an idea for a story. Just not a story for everyone, which puts it mildly.

Those who do not like the story are again invited to stop reading it (NOW) and are further invited to write their own, much, much better story. Just like I told Herman Melville! I await the results.

As to those comments: I am leaving them all in, the crazy ones, the personal insults, the zany observations. (To be fair there are a few rational observations, but very few.) Except for deleting the racist rants (of which there have been 3 so far.) They're just too weird. Anyone who thinks I am proposing that black people are morally, physically or sexually superior is invited to look up the words 'fiction' and 'fantasy' and then to lie in a darkened room with a cold cloth on their forehead.

As always, Enjoy!!

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The girls filed back in for a change to their original clothing. They were smiling and happy, chattering about the guys, about who had been funny and about whose hands had wandered farthest up their little skirts.

Jack gave up Kelly and I gave up Brooke to Eddie to give him something to do. Jack held on to Melissa. I made sure I held on to Beth. We stripped them again and started back with their dresses and skirts and tops. Of course with Melissa there were bra and panties to restore and Jack made a show of getting the little triangle cup bra to sit on her tits just right, feeling her up for a minute or so before releasing her. He looked over to make sure I could see him do it. Melissa seemed hardly to notice.

"I like this. This being in The Eight. I think I might stick with it."

I cupped Beth's ass to give him something to see but she just giggled and shrugged it off. I already had her dress over her head by then. Didn't seem to affect him one way or the other, but I noticed him inspecting Melissa's tattoo after pulling her panties up tight. Beth's was different, held it under the cleft of her nice round ass so it was hardly visible.

Once the girls checked themselves in the mirror, and checked and helped one another, we were ready to go back in. The next session was the cocktail hour and the selection process. The three of us guys would serve as bartenders and waiters.

Melissa came over to me for our little ritual. She flecked a bit of lint off my lapel, straightened my tie and leaned in to say "You look so handsome tonight. Enjoy this."

I held both her hands between us and looked in her eyes. "I will if you will."

"Good. Cause I will."

She air kissed my cheek and went back to the other girls to wait for the signal to enter. All 9 of us waited together – 3 men and 6 girls. And my mind wandered back to this amazing institution and our roles in it.

I'd been an adjunct member of The Eight – and they really do refer to us that way, I'm not making it up to sound important – since Melissa joined via Roland's getting voted in a year earlier. It's a pretty big deal, and I understood that for Jack and Beth it was a pretty big deal that Jevon was now joining.

BTS bills itself as, and really is, a black fraternal, non-profit charitable organization open to all BTS alumni. In the last year they'd raised over $6.3 million for charities ranging from inner city projects in America to farming projects in Africa.

What makes it different of course, and what the public is never allowed to see, is the role of white women (and their significant others.) The primary means of raising money is through the sale and barter of white sluts, and since each chapter is associated with and assisted by some college or university, there never seemed to be a problem generating the sluts needed for their work. Once word gets out on a college campus that there's a discreet black fraternity where it is safe for girls to express their inner slut you see them lining up at the door for every frat party. 

Some girls are just experimenting because they're college students and are pretty much expected to experiment. But a precious few take to the obedient, submissive life more completely. They grow and extend their sluthood into their post college years. And some, like Melissa and I, are lucky enough to find this life long after college.

For the brothers it was a no lose situation. As wealthy alumni and community leaders they'd be expected to, and would want to, support the BTS charities in any event. To make their contributions in the context of getting the use of a young white slut four or five times per year was icing on the cake.

The black suit I'd worn was matched by Jack and Eddie. It made me wonder where Marshall had gone. There'd been no sign of him after he dropped me off in the parking lot. Which also reminded me that I had no transportation of my own. Not that I'd be going anywhere for a while.

The event itself was simple. We mixed and served drinks. For the men they tended to be brandies and liqueurs. For the girls they were soft drinks or waters. It made sense. Not just because the men were the owners and the girls the owned, but because the girls had jobs to do which would require them to be sharp and alert for instruction and obedience. 

I'd been to enough events with Roland and Melissa to know that down at the chapter and regional level there were girls that could only operate as sluts when you got them about 2/3 drunk. Those girls did not advance far into the BTS hierarchy. By the time a girl got to socialize with the Second her drinking stopped or mostly stopped. By the time a girl was with the First her alcohol consumption was restricted to sips of champagne or wine her owner might let her share from his drink.

Privately, when it was just the 2 of them (or the 3 of us) Roland might let Melissa order a Cosmopolitan, her drink of choice before meeting him. It was never more than one which was fine since she'd never been a big drinker to begin with. I'd never seen her drunk in my life. And we both appreciated his thoughtfulness in allowing her the one.

The 3 of us moved silently through the crowd with little trays of the drinks. The couples had separated out into smaller groups. Roland and Melissa had Ralph and Henry together with their women. Jevon and Robert chatted together with Beth and Kayla looking on. DeMarcus and Kyle were over in a corner speaking softly and had their women kneeling before them.

After about 30 minutes of socializing Roland called for attention and made a very nice speech about the outgoing brothers Ralph and DeMarcus, about their contributions to BTS and to the charities it supported. He gave separate praise to their women, Maggie and Kelly, and the contributions they each had made.

Ralph and DeMarcus each spoke briefly and well and then presented their sluts with the traditional outgoing gift. Maggie and Kelly lowered their tops to expose their breasts. Each girl's right nipple had been outfitted with a generic looking barbell. Each man replaced it with the beautiful solid gold and diamond tipped barbell given to all retiring girls. Then their owners gave the other girls a few minutes to crowd around and ooh and aaaah over the gifts.

Roland then segued into a nice little speech about the incoming guys. And did his voice sound a little different when he spoke about Jevon? It was hard to tell for certain – but I don't think I was the only one in the room wondering. Anyway he was very gracious welcoming Jevon and Robert and their women, Beth and Kayla.

By then it was after 9 p.m. and time for the selection. The men and girls began to drift to the perimeter of the room. The three of us stood back in the kitchen hallway to give them space. I could see the girls getting that look. I'd seen it often enough before. The look that combines attention and focus, shame and embarrassment, pride in their men and a determination to be obedient. Their faces color and shine. Their eyes get bigger and focus downward. Their lips part slightly and are moist. Their posture is perfect, their wrists cross behind, their backs arch a bit.

Then, on no particular schedule and in no particular hurry, each owner took his girl out to the middle of the floor and stripped her. He would display her, just a few simple poses, and then lead her around the room to the other men. We would discretely collect her clothing and bring it back inside. Each brother then got to look the slut over more carefully, to fondle a tit or her ass or to play with her mouth and throat. But it was quick. Most of the men knew the girls well enough already.

A few minutes later another owner would repeat the process.

I'd asked Melissa once where and how and when Roland had trained her for those moments and she said he never had, that she had just picked it all up from the girls who came before her. And that it was natural to her.

I was so proud when Roland took Melissa out. They went third. And she was just right. Simple, natural, modest and gorgeous. Eyes on the floor as he stripped her bra and panties after sliding the muslin dress casually over her head. Her mouth was slightly open and wet and I caught a gleam of light bouncing off the pearl tongue stud. 

Had ever a young girl – for to me that's what she was then, a young girl – looked more lovely, more edible, more happily obedient, more cheerfully fuckable or more naturally submissive than my Melissa did at that moment? It would be impossible.

My cock surged as he displayed her. I was the one who had picked out the outfit strewn at her feet and I was the one allowed to gather it up once Roland was ready to parade her.

Ralph took Maggie out fourth. They got a big laugh when she tripped on his foot on the way out and shot forward into the middle of the floor, 3 or 4 steps ahead of him.

Ralph: "God does love an eager slut." So he got the line of the evening and got the guys cheering a bit. Maggie, who is adorable, blushed to high heaven.

Jevon took Beth out near the end of the parade, sixth of seven. And oh my she really was pretty too. Even I had to admit that some other men would consider her prettier than Melissa. And she did have those absolutely amazing tits. As he walked her around to the gents he got an audible gasp and 'Oooh!' from Kelly as her owner DeMarcus ran a finger along Beth's slit. Kelly's reaction about summed up what I think all the girls – and probably all the men too (except for me) – were thinking.

Once every girl had been presented it was finally time. Roland acted as master of ceremonies and announced the selection order. He'd start with the 2 retiring members, Ralph (who was senior) and then DeMarcus. He'd move to the incoming guests of honor, Jevon and then Robert. Then the 3 continuing members would select – Henry, then Kyle and finally Roland himself would 'select' whichever girl was left.

I assumed that Roland had either created or approved the order of selection and wondered whether he was wise to put himself last. I presumed he was making a leadership statement about deferring to men with less clout, specifically Henry and Kyle, for ceremonial purposes.

Ralph immediately selected Beth for his companion for the night. The crowd murmured its assent. Demarcus selected Brooke saying he'd never had a chance to fuck her before. We could see Brooke break into a big smile and her owner Kyle playfully slap her ass as the crowd clapped for them.

Then Jevon took Maggie from Ralph's arm. I was getting a little antsy. Robert picked Kelly prompting the chatty DeMarcus to tell him "Hope you're dick in good working order for my bitch – she gonna work you, you know." It got a nice laugh out of Robert, who seemed to be friends with DeMarcus, and a laugh and a pretty blush from Kelly. But I was glad she didn't get left for Roland since she actually is kind of a bitch.

Next Henry picked Kayla, Robert's girl, almost licking his lips as he said "Fresh new pussy? Why wouldn't I?" And he had always loved the Nordic type of slut. By now I was more than a little miffed. I shot a covert look at both Melissa and Roland. Neither was showing any sign of disappointment or stress; he was holding court laughing with and encouraging the guys; she remained modest and almost beatifically beautiful. It seemed I was the only one who was taking this hard.

Finally with the next to last selection Kyle took Melissa. But the logic of the selection was that he had to take her since only Roland remained behind him. No one could end up with his own woman.

So Roland kissed Melissa and told her archly to behave herself and to be a good girl. And then he took Courtney, the one remaining girl.

The gents departed for their rooms, each with his new girl on his arm.

We 3 stayed behind to clean up. And to wait.



Melissa and Roland Ch. 06



Chapter 6: It Is What It Is - March 2012 to June 2012

Well the comments on Ch. 5, at least so far, make some sense. The main gist is that a lot of you just do not like the story. Fine by me and no comment needed by me. At least some of the critique however seems to miss a point I was clear about earlier - that the chapters will alternate between the present and the backstory. So of course each chapter is, and is intentionally, a 'non-sequitur' in relation to its predecessor. I find that format difficult but interesting and just wanted to try it. It does require more work on the part of the reader who is trying to keep things straight and make sense of things. If you choose not to want to do that work it's fine with me. Just know that that is what's happening.

As to the comments about racial stereotypes - duh! Of course they're in there. If they were the whole story or the biggest part of the story then that would be pretty unfortunate. However they clearly are not - the story, as almost everyone has figured out by now - is about Jeff and his reaction to events, and very little in that is about race in any way.

Nor do I particularly care how I am 'perceived'- as one commentator suggested. I mean A. it's all anonymous, B. it's all fiction, C. who cares anyway? If I was writing about war I might end up using some stereotypes there too - wouldn't make me a warmonger.

Enjoy!!

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So that's how it started. At least for me that's how it started. I suppose for Melissa it started the first time she spread her legs for Roland. Or maybe it started when she accepted his phone number. Or maybe when her brother decided to pimp her out to fuck up my life. It's hard to pinpoint these things.

I did my few meetings the next day. Then moved up the return flight to England to that evening. When I got back to the house to pack she was there, crying in the living room. I packed and left.

Once I got back to England and began working again there was, of necessity, some communication between us. She needed the combination to the garden shed lock. I needed to remind her to have the pool guy check our pump. She left a message to remind me of my parent's anniversary. And so forth.

About 2 weeks into my stay Melissa turned 24. It was March the 12th, a hard day for me. I was still more than mad enough to hope it was a hard day for her too. Somehow I still wanted to reach out with a card or call or even an email. Something. But I just couldn't find the words and in the end her birthday went unacknowledged. Unless you count my getting blind drunk that night as an acknowledgment. And I know it was.

Because it was impossible not to remember all the good parts too. The Melissa who had slept on the funeral home floor with me so I wouldn't be alone on the night of my father's wake. The one who held my hand for 2 straight days afterwards. Who surprised me with outrageously funny gifts when least expected. (Who else would have bought me a Pogo stick after breaking my foot on one of our hiking vacations?) The one who helped me find love for my sister even in her craziest manic episodes. The one had made love to me and who had loved me.

Three days later I wrote asking her to freeze all funds in our names till I could return. She agreed and a day later I received an email confirmation from the bank telling me it was done. Meanwhile I had contacted a couple of divorce attorneys to set up appointments after my return, and I recommended that she do the same.

As to the project in England it continued to go at least fairly well. But not as well as it had been going. We ended up facing some delays in the rollout that I had thought we would avoid. But I knew that things had changed for the project because they had changed for me. I knew that some of my former enthusiasm had waned, and that this had its effect on the morale of the team. Still it went off well enough for me to declare victory in mid-April and to announce the team's departure for a week later.

I tried to play the field a little over there in those weeks, to the amazement of my colleagues who had always and only heard about how great my wife and marriage were. I ended up twice sleeping with one of the British girls on the team, which was of course a big mistake. And I ended up sleeping with a bar slut one other time. An even bigger mistake.

All and all I was glad to think I was getting the hell out of England on April 23. Even if what waited for me at home seemed like a dead, dreary disaster.

I took a small apartment when I got home and started making my plans. But item 1 in the planning was to meet with Melissa to rough out how we would go about this. We'd been a team for so long and it seemed to me impossible that I would be able to plan the divorce without her. Or I just didn't want to do it without her.

So we met in a neutral location, a quiet restaurant we both liked, one that had relatively private booths. I thought my demeanor should be fair, calm, rational and a bit cold, almost professional. Cold but not angry, cause I knew that more angry outbursts were not going to change anything. And I had a job to get done. Let her know that this was over, that it was over no matter what she did now to dump the asshole, and that tears were not going to change that reality.

Then I saw her it all went out the window. You may not understand that and I don't care if you do. But that's what happened: out the window. She was almost too lovely to look at directly.

Seeing her then, well it made her cry and, for the first time, it made me cry too. Our poor waiter had to dodge our crying jags every time he wanted to check in. 

She was so beautiful. Not just physically but in every way. Every part of the love and trust and respect and desire I had for her came crashing through as I sat there. And I swam hard against that current, hard against any weakness or forgiveness, as hard as I had ever done anything. And I knew that I was going to divorce her, at least I still thought that I knew that, but I also knew that I'd be divorcing the one woman I would ever in this life love so completely.

Still I held it together pretty well once the crying part was over.

We talked about divorce. About splitting things up. About each of us getting a lawyer. About our assets and our outstanding debt, which was thankfully not very great. And we both tried to be positive about it, or as positive as you could be in this situation. At the very least it did not seem that either of us would be facing an economic catastrophe. Just a personal catastrophe, although we weren't allowed to say that then.

Melissa mentioned couples counselling once but I could see that even she had no faith in the idea. It quickly switched to a talk about selling the house.

And all the while I was falling back in love. Or really no, not exactly. Because I had never fallen out of love with Melissa. What I was doing was falling out of the anger and depression and humiliation she, the only woman I could ever love, had subjected me to. You can fall out of those things too.

That she really had subjected me to it was beyond doubt. I knew it. She knew it. But I was shocked now by how the anger seemed to be melting away. Melting away even as I fought hard to hold on to it. I almost couldn't believe it and had to keep saying to myself over and over that it would return the next day or the day after. That the anger would stay forever inside me because she deserved it.

We ended the evening formally, with a handshake, and said we would have to keep in touch. And I went home and brooded for two straight days. These big firefights were going on in my head. And every one of them ended in a draw. All I got out of the brooding was a buzzing blaze of confusion and hurt. 

After those 2 days I called her saying we needed another sit down to discuss some insurance policies we had. I just needed to be with her again to see if it was real - to see if I really was shedding the anger and distrust and meanness and hatefulness of the whole thing. To see if I could forgive her.

She agreed to meet back at the restaurant but said she only had an hour, that she had an appointment somewhere. And of course I didn't want to ask what that appointment might be.

I began our 2nd dinner with an apology for all the screaming and name calling I'd done. The reality was I'd felt terrible about all that almost right away, and felt even worse about it every day I was in England. Calling the woman I loved a "whore" and a "cunt" and all the rest may have been the worst thing I'd ever done in my life. So I could apologize pretty sincerely for that. And I did.

And she apologized for shocking me with her news and for hurting me and for sort of calling me a pussy. We both knew that I'd kind of forced her into that last one, but it did hurt nonetheless. And I did appreciate the apology.

At this point I was afraid of crying again so to stop the feeling I held her hand across the table. We smiled to one another then and just sat there holding hands. 

Finally I had to pull out the insurance documents and made up a few questions about how we should handle them. They really were things we probably didn't need to discuss, or things which we could have handled in a 5 minute phone call, but it was all I had left of her.

We dragged that out as long as we could and Melissa still had 15 minutes before she had to go. So then we chatted about neutral stuff to kill the time. My mother's health. Her job. My job.

I blurted out without even intending it "And what about this guy Roland? You still with him?"

Her eyes went down to the table and her simple quiet "Yes" nearly killed me.

"Great. Just great. Happy for you." And the anger did seem fresh and sharp again.

Melissa said "Don't get nasty now. Please?" And I backed it off.

"If you...maybe it's crazy but...if you...if you could meet him you might understand."

"Meet him? You've gotta be kidding me. I meet him I'm going to kill him."

"I know it's stupid. I'm so sorry."

She looked at me with those big teary eyes. "Can you at least believe that? That I really am sorry? More sorry than I've ever been about anything?"

I looked away. I didn't answer. What difference did it make?

Then she got up to go. We said decent goodbyes and I went home to brood some more.

Our 3rd meeting happened a week after that. She called me this time and we took a walk along the river on a perfect Saturday afternoon. She had on the blue dress I had always loved and looked more beautiful than ever. I had decided it was up to me to be a man about this. So I took her hand and jumped right in.

"Do you think there's any way...any way we could try?"

Melissa seemed to brighten but remained cautious. "I mean...I don't know...I'd like to...try."

"About Roland."

"I know...I know...it's all so messed up! And it's all my fault."

She sniffled a bit and you know I finally believed her then. That she was sorry. Because maybe it had just happened to her. It wasn't like she was out hunting for men or sex or whatever. Or intending any of this. And no one knew better than me that when love hits you over the head you have little choice in the matter from there out.

"No. It's not that again. You mentioned meeting him. Would he? If I was willing?"

She brightened at that. "Yes, he would."

"How do you know?"

"Because it was his idea. He thinks the 2 of you should meet man to man and that the 3 of us should meet right afterwards."

"And he'll want...what? To keep you? To have you as his ...?" I didn't want to finish. I couldn't say it then.

She checked my eyes to see what I meant. She saw that it was a serious question, not a slap.

"Yes, but more. To have me. But for you to have me too. For us to be back together."

"All 3 of us then, right? One big happy family."

"Well I wouldn't put it that way."

"Just kidding." I was finding out that these sour jokes didn't help much.

I turned towards her and hugged her hard. My head was buzzing and I thought I might be sick. But I had to say it finally. "You're telling me that my choices are either you with him or no you at all?"

"I'm sorry Jeff. But yes. It just is..."

"What it is?" Her eyes popped sensing trouble. We both were remembering how that line had set me off the night of her confession. But now I was able to see it. She'd been right after all. She'd just said it too soon after nearly killing me. Nearly.

I went back then. "With him as your lover?"

"Yes."

"And me as your husband?"

"Yes."

"And me as your lover too?"

"Yes, of course."

"But you'd be his what? His ...? Under his control?"

"Yes."

"And you like that?"

"Yes...I mean...yes I think so."

I sensed a possibility then. "You think so?"

Her eyes welled up again. "I'm trying to be honest Jeff. I know I've made this all sound so cut and dried - like I'm sure of everything. Believe me I'm not. I'm not sure of anything." She looked at me searching to see if I could understand. Then shrugged and went on. "But I'm not stupid. This might be the biggest mistake of my life. And I am sure of one thing, which is that if it is a mistake then I want you there with me."

"What? Bail you out when he turns out to be a prick?"

She stopped, grabbed my arm and pulled me to look at her. Her eyes were deep and serious.

She was close to shouting then. "Yes, yes if it comes to that. Who else would ever - could ever - be there for me, be my hero and my savior? It's only you I want, at least for that. Don't you understand that? How I need you just as much? How I still love you even if you can't see it? How I need you now more than ever?"

"I..." Because how could I ever answer that question?

"And it's more. Cause I also want, no I need, you there if it turns out to be good, the way I think it will. Especially then, even more than if it's bad. If it's bad I will have been punished, and I will have deserved it. But if it's good then of course I want you there, want you more than ever to be there with me. Cause nothing can be completely good without you. I just want us to be us no matter what happens. Together."

For the first time I realized she really did want things that way - us together. And I remembered how proud we'd always both been of our ability to handle problems together, to face them and overcome them together.

I was almost afraid to speak after that, after she'd laid it out so directly. We held hands and walked quietly till she nodded towards a coffee shop we'd been in once before. Once I got my coffee and she her tea there was once more thing I had to ask.

"You're not afraid of it? Of him? Like he might hurt you? Even physically hurt you?"

"Oh. No Jeff. No. If you knew him you'd see. He never would do that. It's not who he is, not who he and I are together."

I paused to take it all in. Paused and brooded. And finally a man just decides. And I had, so I couldn't be a baby about it. The choice was clear but only cause I loved her so much. And because no matter what now I knew that she loved me too.

"And I'm a pussy?"

"Jeff I never really..." Then she looked into my eyes and saw me smile and knew that I could at least joke about it then. That she didn't have to try to argue the point again.

She giggled and decided to tweak me back. "Yes. A little bit of a pussy, but in a nice way, the nicest way ever."

After that we sat there staring at one another, then looking away, then coming back to lock eyes. We let our eyes do the work for us. We had too. It was beyond words.

And that's when I made the real decision. To try, and now I meant really try.

"So you know. What do you say to this? I know it's completely nuts but what do you say that we get this prick Roland to meet with this pussy Jeff?"

"But he's not a prick."

"OK. What do expect me to call him?"

"How about Roland?" Now she was being cute - like a pussy.

"Or maybe just 'the cock,' how's that?"

"Oh, Jeff. Don't..."

"You think cock Roland will meet with pussy Jeff?" And I smiled at her.

Now she got it and giggled, blew on her tea and giggled. Then she looked up at me.

"Cock meets pussy? What a novel idea." 

Melissa stood and came to my side of the table and slid in next to me. She turned my face and kissed me on the mouth. Hard. And then soft. And then hard again with her tongue in my mouth. And she said "Hard cock meets soft wet pussy? I thought you'd never ask. Let's go home. And..."

"And what?"

"And, who knows? You might like it."

We went back to our house together then and made love. Soft and sweet. Melissa put on Stevie Wonder low in the background just as she had done for us so many times in the past. "My Cherie Amour" played as I fucked her. But like a pussy would I guess, whatever that means. 

I didn't know whether to go down on her or not but she settled the issue by pushing my head under the covers. And it was dark and mysterious and spectacular. Those little noises she made, and some big ones too, were just as sweet as ever. She was spectacular.

Then we were up together. Too buzzed with excitement and possibilities to even think about sleeping. It was still only about 10 o'clock so she called Roland and asked if he would be willing to come over for dinner with the 2 of us the next day. From her smile I knew the answer was yes.

Then I got all playful like what did he look like? And what was he like? My rival and my brother is what I started calling him although she didn't seem to like it too much. After I attacked her with tickles, and threatened more of it, she broke down and showed me two photos of him. Ones she'd taken at a beach somewhere. She didn't offer but I reached in to scroll her phone forward and found the next one of him and her together, his big arm around her narrow waist. Some tourist had taken it for them. She had on a tropical print bikini I hadn't seen before. Then she grabbed the phone back.

"Isn't She Lovely" played while we fooled around.

I asked where they had been and it turned out they'd spent a week together in Puerto Rico while I was in England. And it hit me in the stomach. But then I was feeling kind of high, almost like when she and I had smoked our weed in the old days. Because the emotion of loving her was running so high and fast in me. It all seemed possible suddenly and miraculously.

And I couldn't stop asking. Like did he fuck her a lot down there and she said "Shhssssssshhh you!" and did she buy some sexy suits and underwear for the trip and she smiled wickedly which told me the answer and did she like blowing him and how big was his cock anyway and she again went back to "Shhssssssh."

So turnabout was fair play and she asked did I step out at all in England and I had to tell her about the Brit-twit sucking my cock and told her about going down on the bar slut girl when I was so drunk I could barely keep my head up between her pudgy thighs. And how I didn't much care for the flavor of British seafood which made her punch my arm.

And then Melissa said "Let's get high! This is so fun." And brought out some weed that Roland had given her and it was in the side table drawer which mostly, not entirely but mostly, confirmed my idea that he had fucked her right here in my bed. But suddenly I got shy I guess and didn't want to ask.

But we shared a joint. Then drank some wine. Melissa sucked my cock then. We shared another joint and we were both officially wrecked.

So I got back my courage or my stupidity or both and started asking again about that vacation in Puerto Rico. At first just things about what sorts of touristy things they did, but ending with what was the wildest thing he had made her do for him down there? And she was giggling and drinking her wine then and I saw a spot of my cum drying on her chin and leaned in to her to lick it clean which made her howl with joy. Stevie was singing "Too High." I loved her so much then.




Melissa and Roland Ch. 06



And she said, slurring her words just a little, "Gave him a blowjob at a fancy outdoor restaurant. Old San Juan." Her eyes drifted, remembering. "Beautiful. We're sitting there with appetizers and he just up and says 'Under the table girl" and so I did and it really turned me on to be down there. You see all these feet moving and some men have their hands on their girl's thighs and some girls you can see have no panties on and it's a sexy secret world. And he was feeding me tapas under the tablecloth. Can you imagine me? Fed by hand?"

And, yes, already I could somehow picture it.

"And he whispers down 'Suck it now slut' and I took his cock out. And I sucked him off while he went on talking to the waiter and the couple next to us. Just so amazing. When I popped back up after the waiter was there filling our sangria bottle. You should have seen Roland laughing then, which got me and the waiter laughing till we were like 3 silly teenagers."

And I'm trying to process he calls her "slut" and makes her blow him in a restaurant? She eats from his hand?

"Roland let him feel my tits a few times and he was pouring us free sangria all night."

And more processing. He, not she, gets to decide who gets to feel her tits.

She might have thought I wanted all the juicy parts, not just the very best one which was the under the table cocksucking. And to be perfectly honest I did. She went on "And there was nude sailing around point by our beach. Just us and 2 other couples. And him finger fucking me during a classical concert in their old church. And..."

"OK. OK. I get it." But now we were both enjoying it so we laughed like crazy. And had more wine to top off the pot we'd smoked.

And she said "Didn't you get to finger fuck your British beauty in a church? Or get a blowjob in a pub?"

To which we both knew the answers.

But I got bold and said "Wanna see? The first girl? Not the bar slut."

She giggled an OK.

So I took out my cell and showed her some pictures of the British colleague I'd fucked. She was a cute girl, maybe 22 or so, but a little too skinny. I knew Melissa's reaction would be cool and it was but I enjoyed tweaking her then the way I figured she had me with the story about the blowjob under the table. And I showed her all the pictures of that girl -including the last 3 I'd taken after cumming all over her face and tits. It made Melissa squirm a bit with discomfort but it made me happy because I had dropped a pretty nice load on the poor girl.

She looked shocked and said only "She's pretty."

"Oh, not as ..."

But Melissa had pulled out her phone again and I was like "Oh Holy Fuck" cause I knew what was coming and knew that I had it coming. She smirked and pointed the screen towards me. The very first picture was from a mirror with Melissa nude on her knees looking completely gorgeous while she sucked Roland's cock. You could see the phone in Melissa's hand and the flash from it. His hands were on his hips as he let her service his cock. I could see he was pretty big all over.

His cock was impressive - but not huge, not monstrous, which I was glad of. A new tune came on: "Don't You Worry Bout a Thing." Mine is pretty large too and I thought we were about the same there - or maybe he was just a little thicker in her mouth. Still, it was impressive. Was his thicker because she was giving him a better blowjob than she gave me? I was pretty high then. Thinking how big his nuts were in her little hand. Then I caught myself thinking that way and freaked out that I was comparing his junk to my own based on the shared experience of her blowing us.

Melissa was giggling like crazy, about as high and as drunk as she could get.

The next shot was of her on all fours facing the mirror with her torso up off the bed and a big black hand reaching in to squeeze her tit really hard. From the look of the photo I would have thought her breast was ruined beyond repair- although it certainly looked pretty good now. He was kneeling behind her looking down at what must have been his cock going in her pussy. She had the most beautiful smile on her face. Her eyes, the eyes I loved so much, glowed. I realized I was humming along to the music.

The third shot, which probably came right after her getting fucked from behind, was from Roland. He shot the load of cum that was drooling out of her snatch. You could tell he had positioned her spread legs just right to see the most cum.

And the fourth shot was from her nude sailing adventure. Two black men and a white man stood behind 3 white girls in a group photo on the deck of the sailboat. All nude. All stunning.

"What happened on that trip?"

"Can't tell."

"And why not?"

"Roland said I couldn't." Which I was learning would be reason enough for her.

So I had to make her stop. Stevie was doing "Superstition", one of my favorites. I was laughing uncontrollably but it was still too much. I wrestled the phone away from her and pushed her down on her back. The blankets and sheet slid to the floor as we play wrestled. I dove in to spread her legs and began lapping at her cunt. She was my girl again and high as I was I only wanted her to cum and cum and cum forever from my mouth.

But then I stopped licking and I threw my head up in amazement.

"What's his name?"

She looked down confused. "Roland. I told you."

"I mean his full name." Somewhere "writing's on the wall."

She looked down at me again, thoughtful for just a second, and then smiled wickedly. She knew what I had seen.

"Don't worry. It's just a temporary. We couldn't schedule the artist till a couple of weeks out."

"But what's his name?" And "keep me in a daydream, keep me going strong."

"Roland Emerson Sherwood. RES."

For right there, tattooed, temporary or not, on her inner thigh just below her pussy were the initials "RES."

So then I went back down there and ate her and kissed her and fingered her so nice till she came. I remember that "Golden Lady" was playing when she did. And we crashed down dead asleep.