"How badly do you want this job?" he inquired suggestively.
Melinda took a deep breath and committed herself. "Anything you want, Mr. Huxton," she softly replied.
Melinda slowly rose to her feet. "Take off the skirt," he told her, as if directing a scene. Melinda demurely complied with his request, unsnapping the buttons on her hip and removing her skirt, draping it over the arm of her chair. She stood before him in her leotard, her nipples hardening in response to his appreciative gaze and the anticipation of their impending intimacies.
Huxton stood up and Melinda immediately noticed the bulge in the crotch of his pants. He walked around the desk and confronted her, his smile diminishing to a subtle smirk.
"Lay on the couch." he ordered. Then he wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs and nestled his face in the fluffy tufts of pubic hair between her lovely legs....
CHAPTER ONE
Taking a deep breath, Melinda ventured forth onto the empty stage, gliding as gracefully as a young woman could, considering she was absolutely terrified. Nonetheless, she wore her brightest smile and paused at center stage, then turned and faced the glaring spotlight that shone from the facade of the first mezzanine.
"Name," demanded an authoritative male voice from somewhere in the invisible orchestra seats.
"Melinda Cain," she replied, folding her hands at her crotch, an unconscious gesture that betrayed her nervousness.
"You dance very well," complimented the director, now a shadowy figure several rows away.
"Thank you, sir," said Melinda, glancing offstage at the other dancers awaiting their individual auditions. She was good, but not as good as some of them, she admitted to herself.
"You have a very attractive body," the director remarked boldly to her utter embarrassment. Melinda was already self-conscious of the way her tight-fitting, purple leotard clung to the undeniably sensuous contours of her supple body. With a 38-22-36 figure, Melinda often aroused the interest of male admirers, but what impressed them the most was the perfection of her long, shapely legs. At five feet ten inches she was a statuesque beauty whose talents as an actress and entertainer were frequently overlooked.
"I'm working on it," Melinda chimed with a carefree toss of her lush, golden blonde hair, trying too hard to sound clever.
"How old are you?" the director inquired.
"Twenty-three," she answered honestly. Actually, she looked younger, as if barely out of high school. That had proven to be both an advantage and a liability.
"What have you done before?" the director abruptly asked.
Melinda hesitated. Her carefully prepared snow job melted from her memory. The truth of the matter was that beyond acting class, her only theatrical experience consisted of attending countless casting calls like this and walking away empty-handed. I'm going to blow this one, too, she thought, knowing that if she did, she'd have to go back to waiting tables.
"Ah ... you mean ... what shows have I done?" said Melinda, stalling for time.
"Have you appeared off-Broadway before?" the director prodded.
"In a manner of speaking," she laughed giddily. "I've done extensive summer stock," she lied valiantly. "That's off-Broadway, isn't it?"
There was an excruciating silence from the orchestra, then the director whimsically replied, "No. That's off-off-Broadway."
The mild laughter of her fellow dancers put Melinda at ease. "I've done a few commercials, danced in the chorus line of several Atlantic City shows...." she volunteered, still lying through her smiling teeth.
"That's fine, Ms. Cain," the director interrupted. "Would you please wait offstage?"
Melinda's hopes sank like a stone in cold water. She lingered for a moment on the naked stage and it took all of her professional discipline to appear unperturbed. Then she obediently walked off, back to the anonymity of the wings. She swallowed the lump in her throat and discreetly dabbed away the teardrops welling in her eyes. She waited patiently while the others were similarly interrogated, then fastened her skirt over her Danskin when the auditions were completed.
The stage manager announced the names of the lucky few chosen for the show. The list did not include Melinda, so she gathered her belongings and headed for the nearest exit. But before she could escape to daylight there was a tap on her shoulder.
"Ms. Cain," said the stage manager, "do you have a moment?"
She paused and turned. "Yes?"
"The director, Mr. Huxton, would like to see you in his office."
"Me?" gasped Melinda, her hopes on the upswing.
"It's on the other side of the stage, up the flight of spiral stairs," the manager directed.
"Thank you," she said, hurrying off eagerly.
Melinda crossed the stage and scaled the swirling iron staircase. When she reached the upper landing, she rapped gently on an unmarked door.
"Come in," commanded the distinctive voice of Julius Huxton.
Melinda quietly entered the office and found the director seated behind a large mahogany desk. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Huxton?" she asked sheepishly.
"Ah, Ms. Cain, yes...." he smiled; a man of at least fifty with silvery gray hair, an impressively handsome face and wearing a fashionably casual brown corduroy jacket over a beige turtleneck sweater, faded jeans and Frye boots. "Please be seated," he pleasantly insisted.
Melinda slid into a chair beside his desk and crossed her legs. The slit of her skirt parted to expose her thigh and she noted the delight in Huxton's eyes.
"I meant what I said," he told her.
"About my dancing?" asked Melinda. "Or my body?" she flirtatiously added.
"Both," he playfully replied.
"Neither one got me the job," Melinda lamented.
Huxton raised an eyebrow. "That remains to be seen."
"What do you mean?"
"How badly do you want this job?" he inquired suggestively.
Melinda hesitated in replying, uncertain that his remark was an outright proposition and fearful of the consequences of misinterpreting him. "I'd do anything to get the job," she flatly answered, watching his eyes closely for a clue to his true intentions.
A sly grin spread across Huxton's face. "Anything!" he pressed, arching an eyebrow. His lech erous expression spoke for itself and Melinda felt as if she were being cornered. She wanted the job so badly, needed it so desperately, but could she submit to Huxton's sexual advances? Of course, she could. But should she? Why not? He was a reasonably handsome man. No doubt she'd enjoy it. Surely other aspiring actresses had resorted to this method of advancing their careers. It was certainly worth the reward of appearing in an off-Broadway show. The more Melinda considered it, the more advantages she discovered, not to mention that it had been months since she had fucked anyone and she was never known to refuse a firm piece of meat from a man who knew how to use it.
Melinda took a deep breath and committed herself. "Anything you want, Mr. Huxton," she softly replied.
Melinda slowly rose to her feet. "Take off the skirt," he told her, as if directing a scene.
Melinda demurely complied with his request, unsnapping the buttons on her hip and removing the skirt, draping it over the arm of her chair. She stood before him in her leotard, her nipples hardening in response to his appreciative gaze and the anticipation of their impending intimacies.
Huxton stood up and Melinda immediately noticed the bulge in the crotch of his pants. He walked around to the front of the desk and confronted her, his smile diminishing to a subtle smirk, his penetrating eyes narrowing as he approached his luscious prey. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, his wet tongue prying apart her dry lips to probe her warm, sweet mouth. Soon his hands sank from the curves of her waist to the broad slope of her hips, then behind her to clench the full, firm cheeks of her ass, pressing her groin against his throbbing hardness.
Breathless, Melinda tore her lips away and swooned in his powerful embrace. Huxton continued to grind his crotch against hers while his mouth brushed her cheek and nibbled gently on her ear. He kissed and licked the fragrant flesh of her neck and Melinda shivered uncontrollably. His hands wandered up her spine and she sighed, responding to his deft and sensuous touch. He caressed her shoulders and neck with a tenderness she found irresistible. Then he abruptly clutched the top of her leotard in each of his fists and yanked the elastic tights off her shoulders and down her arms. Melinda's breasts popped out and Huxton held them in his eager grasp.
Stripped to the waist and bound at the wrists, Melinda squirmed as he kneaded, squeezed and pinched her tits, aroused by his audacious groping. Huxton lowered his lips to kiss her protruding nipples, licking and sucking her tender, pink buds until she moaned in ecstasy.
Then he pulled her hands free of the sleeves and forced the leotard down to her ankles. Kneeling before her, Huxton wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs and nestled his face in the fluffy tufts of pubic hair between her legs.
"Oh, yes," Melinda whimpered, stroking his hair as his tongue wormed its way between the pouting lips of her cunt.
She opened her thighs to him and was rewarded with the slithering thrusts of his expert tongue which scowered the tantalizing recesses of her womb until it isolated the core of her desire. He lapped her clitoris like a dog, making her shudder and quiver with spastic delight. But before she could come, he withdrew and instead stroked her long legs from thigh to calf to ankle and up to thigh again. "Lovely," he whispered in admiration. "Lovely legs."
He rose to face her, expressionless, distant. "Lay down on the couch," he ordered and watched as she readily obeyed.
Melinda reclined on the black leather furniture and awaited his further commands.
"Take that off," he motioned to her shoes and the leotard that clung to her ankles.
Melinda stripped completely and laid back.
"Spread your legs," Huxton demanded. "Spread them wide."
Uninhibitedly, Melinda hung one leg over the top of the couch and the other over the edge so that her furry mound gaped invitingly.
"Place your hand on your cunt," he instructed, removing his jacket and tossing it on the desk.
Melinda reached down and ran her fingers through the light brown curls that matted her pussy. It was hot and wet and ready.
"Play with yourself while you watch me undress," he told her and even this Melinda was willing to do, sinking three of her fingers into her saturated orifice, rolling her clitoris as she observed him.
Discarding his turtleneck sweater, Huxton revealed a muscular chest devoid of hair. With ease and swiftness he removed his trousers and briefs and unashamedly brandished an uncircumcised cock that stood erect as a yardstick. He left his boots on.
He mounted her without hesitation, replacing her fingers with his prodding prick, burying it to the balls in her snug, hot snatch. Bracing the heels of his boots against the arm of the couch, Huxton proceeded to fuck Melinda in slow, deep strokes.
The pleasure of his thrusts became so intense that Melinda clawed the hard, rippling muscles that stretched across his broad back, thrashing her head from side to side and groaning in exquisite torment.
"Long, lovely legs," he murmured in her ear as his strong hands massaged her thighs, encouraging her to lift her legs and lock them behind the small of his back.
But just as Melinda was getting started, Huxton was winding up, balling her with the desperation of a man racing for the finish line.
"Don't come yet, please," she begged, but the selfish bastard ignored her pleas and plowed into her relentlessly. Then finally he reared back and slammed into her with all his might, spurting his load in a single shot. Huxton groaned as he came and collapsed on top of her.
He lay motionless for several minutes and Melinda feared that he may have overexerted himself to a fatal degree. Then abruptly, he disengaged himself from her, sliding his shriveling cock from her grimy cunt and sitting up on the arm of the couch.
He stared down at Melinda who was still sprawled against the leather cushions with her legs spread apart and mocked her with a smug grin. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get dressed."
Melinda could not conceal her disappointment. "Can't we ... can't we do it again?" she implored. "Why?"
"I didn't come yet," she meekly explained.
"Oh, really?" he teased.
Melinda raised her hips slightly off the couch, offering herself to him once again. "Please!"
The grin melted to a sneer and Huxton planted the sole of his boot directly on her cunt. The cruel gesture succeeded in further arousing Melinda's passion. She reached down and seized the boot, holding it firmly against her crotch, rotating her hips so that the leather sole was grinding against her succulent slit.
Huxton increased the pressure and Melinda squealed with delight, stroking and caressing the boot as if it were a phallus, trying to wedge the tip between the lips of her inflamed orifice. Huxton obliged her kinky desire until the smooth but tough leather rested against her throbbing clit.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" she wailed frantically, flinching as Huxton twisted his foot from side to side, pushing down on the tender spot as if flooring an accelerator. Responding like a revved-up engine, Melinda surged toward an unbearable climax.
When her moment of fulfillment arrived, Melinda gritted her teeth to stifle a scream, clutched his heel with trembling hands and jerked violently several times, once for each orgasm. Then her body relaxed and Huxton removed his foot. When she opened her eyes, Melinda saw that he was again smiling.
"Satisfied?" he asked.
The answer was too obvious to require a reply.
"Good," he remarked. "Then you'd better get dressed now. You passed your audition," he informed her with a touch of sarcasm.
Self-conscious of her nudity in the aftermath of their intimate session, Melinda modestly covered her breasts with one arm and reached for her clothes with the other. Disinterested, Huxton turned away to don his own attire.
"Rehearsals begin next Tuesday," he routinely announced as he stepped into his trousers. "Nine a.m. sharp. There are two female leads. You've got one of them."
Melinda's eyes widened, her heart started pounding and her cheeks flushed with excitement. In her sudden exuberance, she dropped her clothes and scurried over to Huxton, wheeling him around and embracing him. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" she cried, kissing his neck.
Startled by her emotional outburst, Huxton raised his hands to her shoulders and tried unsuccessfully to pry her loose of him. In the meantime, his trousers fell to his knees. "Take it easy!" he beseeched.
"You don't know what this means to me!" Melinda ranted, rubbing her luscious boobs against his chest. "How could I ever show you my gratitude?"
The question hung in the air for a moment. Then, as if in response, Huxton's penis mushroomed against her belly.
Melinda glanced down at his swelling organ, then smiled up at him. "You're the director," she cheerfully conceded and sank slowly to her knees in willing submission.
She traced the elongated dimensions of his manhood with her lips, gently kissing and nibbling his rigid stem until it expanded to its full prominence. Her tongue smeared sweet saliva up and down and around the shaft, tickling, teasing and tantalizing him. What had begun as sexual bribery had become a genuine desire on Melinda's part to please her newfound employer.
Whatever her motive, Huxton relished Melinda's uninhibited display of gratefulness. He savored the oral foreplay as long as he could stand it, then impatiently seized her by the sides of her head and directed the tip of his prick to her slightly parted lips. With a forceful thrust he jammed his cock deep into her mouth and jerked her head back and forth, setting her in motion.
Melinda gave head with all the vigor and enthusiasm of a high-priced hooker, massaging his balls as she sucked and moaning deliciously as if guzzling his cum was a privilege.
Just before he spilled his seed down Melinda's gulping throat, Huxton arched his back, stiffened his thighs and howled like a wild beast. It was the best performance he'd seen in a long, long time.
CHAPTER TWO
Melinda rushed home to deliver the sensational news to her roommate, Lizzy, but when she reached their three-room, fourth floor walkup on East Seventy-Third Street, the only trace of Lizzy she found was a hastily scribbled note taped to the bathroom mirror: "Out on the town with Scott. Seeya' later. L."
Melinda sighed, disappointed. The biggest break of her career and no one to share it with. Yet with her flaky roommate and her outrageous boyfriend out for the evening, Melinda had the apartment all to herself. After a light supper, she disrobed and stepped into a steaming hot shower. She cleansed herself thoroughly, scrubbing away any lingering trace of the day's dirty deed. The pulsating spray soothed her aching muscles as she generously lathered her breasts, thighs and belly, her soapy hands concentrating on the raw flesh in and around her crotch.
As she closed her eyes and dowsed her head, Melinda recalled a typical scene from countless horror films in which a beautiful young woman is attacked by a knife-wielding psychotic as she stands helplessly in the shower. At that very moment, the shower curtain was torn aside and standing there beside the bathtub was a man in a grotesque Halloween mask and brandishing a meat cleaver. Melinda screamed and backed up against the pink tile wall, her wet, naked body at the mercy of her attacker.
Suddenly someone appeared behind the intruder. As the steam lifted, she recognized her roommate.
"Surprise!" laughed Lizzy.
The would-be maniac lowered his weapon and removed his mask. "Not bad," smiled Scott, assessing the attributes of his mortified victim. "Not bad at all."
"You lunatics!" Melinda angrily shrieked. "Get out of here!" She snatched the shower curtain from Scott's hand and used it to cover herself as the practical jokers left the room howling with laughter.
Melinda emerged moments later in a skimpy bathrobe that barely contained her ample cleavage. "You bastards!" she raged. "You scared the hell out of me!"
"You should have seen your face," chuckled Lizzy, shaking her curly mane of dark brown hair, tears of mirth glistening in her blue eyes.
"Who noticed her face?" quipped Scott, looking more like a long-haired, teenage prankster than part owner of a Greenwich Village cabaret.
"It's not funny!" Melinda insisted, only to find that she couldn't keep a straight face either. "You two deserve each other. You're absolutely insane."
The three of them sat down on the living room floor where several Oriental cushions were conveniently strewn about. The laughter subsided and Scott remarked to Melinda," I meant what I said in the bathroom. Not bad at all. You've got nice big honkers."
"Oh, go fuck yourself," Melinda muttered.
"I have," he responded. "I was great."
"I'll vouch for that," Lizzy added enthusiastically, kissing him on the cheek, clearly infatuated and adoring every thoughtless word that passed his lips.
"I thought you two were going out for the evening," said Melinda.
"We tried getting into a movie," Lizzy reported. "Sold out. So we decided to come home and ball our brains out."
"Care to join us?" Scott invited hopefully.
"Thanks, but three into two won't go," Melinda sarcastically declined.
Scott shrugged. "You're welcome to watch. We could use a referee."
Lizzy poked his arm playfully and nibbled on his ear.
"If anyone is interested, I got the job," Melinda announced.
"What job?" asked Lizzy.
"The musical!" snapped Melinda, hurt by Lizzy's lack of interest. "I got one of the leads in an off-Broadway show. Now I won't have to go back to being a lousy waitress."
"Hey, terrific!" hailed Scott. "This calls for a celebration." He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a joint.
"I'll get the wine," chimed Lizzy, getting up and scurrying to the kitchen.
Scott lit up, took a deep drag and passed it to Melinda. She filled her lungs with the exotic blend and exhaled through her nose, toking until Lizzy returned with a bottle of chablis. While his girlfriend availed herself of the joint, Scott poured three glasses of wine. Melinda contributed to the mood by placing a progressive jazz record on her turntable. Between the pot, the wine and the stereo, the three of them were blissfully stoned in no time.
Melinda leaned back against a pile of cushions, closed her eyes and drifted with the music and her own lightheadedness. Minutes that seemed like hours passed and when she opened her eyes, she saw Lizzy and Scott rolling on the floor in a passionate embrace. She watched with amusement as they kissed and groped, fumbling to remove each other's clothing. When they succeeded in stripping themselves of their jeans and shirts, Melinda began to realize that the two of them were seriously horny and weren't about to stop for anything. Although Scott and Lizzy didn't seem to mind her presence, Melinda felt like a voyeur. And yet she didn't want to leave the room, fascinated and aroused by the sight of them, titillated when Scott unsnapped Lizzy's bra and yanked it away, exposing her small but supple breasts.
Melinda felt her own surge of desire as Scott's hand shoved its way into Lizzy's pink lace panties and scrounged around her crotch. Lizzy's hips rose off the floor as Scott sank his fingers into her quivering cunt and Melinda bit her lip with envious yearning. Then when he peeled Lizzy's panties up the slope of her parted thighs, over the arch of her knees and down to her ankles, Melinda placed her hand within her robe and squeezed her breasts, feeling her nipples harden at the touch. She held her breath to listen to their whimperings, longing to be a part of their intimacy but too shy to dare joining them.
There was no restraining Melinda, however, when Lizzy dispensed with Scott's briefs and his mammoth cock sprang into view. Melinda had never seen such an enormous male organ nor one so perfectly formed, as if it had been carved by a Renaissance sculptor. She estimated it to be nearly a foot long, although she had always assumed that claims of similar endowments were merely the product of wishful fantasies. She wondered how a prick that long and thick could possibly fit in a tight box like hers and she intended to find out.
Scott and Lizzy paused in their lovemaking and caught Melinda petting her pussy beneath the robe. Scott smiled and whispered, "No need for that. We'll take care of you."
He and Lizzy crawled over to Melinda and while one tugged on the knot of her belt, the other parted the folds of the robe, exposing her bountiful breasts. The garment fell from her shoulders and dropped to the floor, rendering her naked to her willing partners. They encouraged her to lie on her back and proceeded to cool her fevered brow with their soft, wet lips. Melinda closed her eyes and surrendered completely, tingling with sensuous anticipation as they took turns kissing her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids, every inch of her vibrant face. Their tongues plunged into her mouth, slithered into her ears, licked each side of her long, writhing neck. And as the three of them cuddled on the floor, their hands explored each other's body, roaming the tender curves and contours of flesh, caressing and fondling their most excitable parts.
As Melinda gently stroked their hair, Scott and Lizzy feasted on each of her heaving tits, sucking greedily on her red, raw nipples until they stood erect, pointed peaks glistening with saliva. Their mouths then drifted along her rippling ribs and around to her flat belly where their tongues mingled in the valley of her navel. Ticklish, Melinda squirmed uncontrollably. Scott and Lizzy responded by licking her thighs, a prelude to their most intimate designs.
Anticipating even greater delights and craving their indulgence, Melinda spread her legs wide, offering her saturated slit to whomever desired a serving of mouth-watering beaver. To Melinda's surprise, the adventuresome duo exceeded her expectations. While Scott wedged his head between her thighs and sucked pussy, Lizzy was content to lick out her asshole, uninhibitedly jabbing her tongue in and out of Melinda's anus. Scott expertly catered to her most intense of pleasures, pressing his entire face against her furry muff, lapping the drenched lips of her cunt and delving deep into the orifice before flicking her clit. The sensation of Scott and Lizzy's combined efforts had Melinda reeling. It was as if she had two clits, both about to ignite in an explosion of ecstasy.
Sensing Melinda's impending climax, Scott withdrew, sat back and watched as Lizzy curled up with her roommate and took her into a tender embrace. The two women rolled across the floor and back again, hugging, clutching and kissing, grinding their pussies together, locking arms and legs, grasping each other's thighs and buttocks, sucking each other's flaming nipples until they moaned like alley cats in heat.
The action became so tempestuous that Scott rejoined them, sandwiching himself between the two women, palming handfuls of tits and ass, smearing their lips with succulent kisses, frolicking in a mass of flesh, limbs and hair. Then he stretched out on his back with his flagpole at full mast and encouraged the ladies to help themselves. Melinda and Lizzy readily accommodated him, wrapping their tongues around his rigid meat, lapping the shaft, flicking the tip, their lips meeting in a kiss with his cock between them. Then while one bent his prick back and inserted it into her mouth, the other tongued his balls.
"Oh-h-h-h!" groaned Scott in unbearable pleasure as Melinda pumped his pecker in and out of her gaping mouth. "Blow me, you cocksucking bitches!"
But no matter how frantically Melinda slurped his schlong, Scott managed to hold back, determined to fuck the daylights out of two fine pieces of ass. When Melinda's jaw got tired, she removed him from her mouth and rolled aside to rest. Lizzy wasted no time mounting her inexhaustible stud and parking his humongous prick straight up her throbbing pussy. She jostled and jounced as if galloping in the saddle of an untamed stallion. As Lizzy pumped on his horn, Scott reached up and took her jiggling jugs in his firm grasp, squeezing and kneading them until her nipples were as hard as bullets. Then he sat up, still securely embedded, and wrapped his arms around her waist. As they rocked back and forth, Scott covered her tits with slobbering kisses and licks. Lizzy groaned and clung to her lover in sheer rapture, swiveling her hips in rhythm to his upward thrusts.
Then Scott shoved forward and forced her down to the floor. Hoisting her legs with his powerful arms, he fucked her in rapid-fire jabs, mercilessly ripping into her with all his strength. Lizzy responded with delirious delight, clawing his chest, spewing profanities in his face, licking the sweat that flowed from his face, neck and shoulders.
It became a test of endurance, his against hers, and Lizzy was the first to weaken. Unable to re strain herself, she clutched Scott's hair, pressed his face between her breasts and came with a shattering scream. Her body twitched as Scott slowly withdrew, his crane still stiff and drenched with her juices. He turned away from his exhausted partner and sought Melinda, who was sprawled out on her stomach, unaware that she had become Scott's object of desire.
She was startled when he fell upon her and rested his potent prod in the groove of her ass. "I always wondered how good you'd be," he murmured in her ear. "Now I intend to find out."
Enticed by his lustful determination, Melinda tried to turn over to accommodate him, but instead Scott insisted that she sit up on all fours, doggie-style, while he took her from behind. His lubricated cock penetrated her easily, sliding like a knife through warm butter, deep into her womb. Hands on her hips, Scott worked his tireless tool in and out of Melinda's taut, tight and tantalizing twat.
"M-m-m-m," she moaned, gyrating her hips counterclockwise to his grinding motion. "That's good. Oh-h-h-h, so good."
Scott's hands drifted up along her ribs and around her hanging breasts. He milked her tits while cramming her crotch, savoring this sweetest of conquests while his girlfriend Lizzy languished on the floor, rendered senseless by the wine, pot and pussy-pounding.
"Girl, your cunt is red-hot," Scott grunted. "I'm gonna' have to put out the fire."
He proceeded to prove his prowess, slamming her gash until she creamed. He timed their orgasms to coincide, spurting his seed deep into her sizzling slit. Melinda crumbled under the strain, smothered by his weight, saturated by his perspiration, breathlessly fulfilled. She felt his cock shrivel between her thighs, clammy semen oozing from her orifice.
Moments later, Lizzy crawled across the floor to join them. Melinda heard her roommate whisper something to her boyfriend, but was too exhausted to ask what was said. She was too weary as well to resist when they turned her over on her back and Lizzy spread Melinda's legs to lick the cum from her cunt. At first, Melinda was repulsed by the idea, but soon she found Lizzy's lapping a soothing and appropriate finale to the night's uninhibited activities. And when Scott offered her his soggy member, Melinda obligingly licked it clean, finding the heady mixture of his ejaculation and her pussy pudding a surprisingly delectable treat.
Then the three of them cuddled up and fell asleep on the floor as the record on the turntable played itself over and over all night long.
CHAPTER THREE
Melinda was downright chipper on the first day of rehearsal, slipping into her lucky leotards and a pair of tight jeans, wolfing down a light breakfast and setting out bright and early for the theatre, walking all the way downtown and crosstown to limber up for the job.
But when she reached the address on the west side of Greenwhich Village, she found the entrances closed and locked. Slightly perplexed, she went around to the stage door in an alley. That, too, was locked shut and Melinda knocked hard on the black metal door. An elderly man she recognized as the theatre watchman answered; poking his head outside, his eyes viewed her suspiciously.
"Sorry," he grumbled. "You've got the wrong place."
"No, I haven't," laughed Melinda. "I'm reporting for rehearsal."
"Ain't no rehearsal," the old man told her.
"What do you mean?" said Melinda, somehow believing he was teasing her.
"Show's been cancelled," he informed her.
"What?" gasped Melinda. "But ... but ... why?"
"Backers pulled out," the old man grumbled.
"Where is Mr. Huxton?"
"Left town. Went to L.A., I think."
"Why wasn't the cast notified?" an indignant Melinda demanded to know. "Why wasn't I notified?"
The old man shrugged. "How should I know? I ain't the producer."
"I-I discontinued my unemployment insurance," Melinda declared. "What am I supposed to do now?"
"Look for another job," the watchman suggested. "Now, if you'll excuse me...."
He started to close the door, but Melinda desperately clutched his arm. "Oh, please! Wait! I've got to talk to Mr. Huxton. I've got to get in touch with him."
The old man jerked his arm away. "Sorry, Miss. Can't help you," he snapped, slamming the door in her face and locking it.
Tears flooded Melinda's eyes, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and drifted off. As she walked all the way home her shock and disappointment hardened into resentment. She had thought that she had used Huxton to land a part, but it was she who had been used. If only she could get her hands on the bastard. Then realizing the futility of her bitterness, she contemplated her immediate future. It looked as if she'd have to go back to waitressing until something better came along. She loathed waiting tables, but it was all she was qualified to do, having pursued nothing but her theatrical aspirations since high school. It wasn't the first time Melinda had returned home with her tail between her legs, so close to a breakthrough only to have her hopes dashed, but today she was unprepared for the other problems that awaited her. When she reached her apartment she found a hastily scribbled note taped to the kitchen refrigerator door.
"What now?" she groaned, snatching Lizz's message and sitting down to read it. A few seconds later she sprang to her feet.
"Dear Mel," read the note, "Scotty and I have decided to see America. Don't know when we'll be back (if ever). Apartment's all yours. Break a leg on opening night. Love and kisses, Lizzy."
Melinda crumbled the note in her fist and hurled it angrily across the room. Then she stormed through the apartment and discovered that Lizzy's belongings were indeed gone.
"That irresponsible little shit!" she shrieked. "Of all the times to skip out on me!"
According to the arrangement, Lizzy paid the rent and Melinda took care of the utilities. Overnight, Melinda's expenses would double, now that she was without a job. What's more, she had exhausted her savings months ago and had nothing left but thirty dollars in her purse. Before she even had time to think, the doorbell rang.
"If that's Lizzy...." swore Melinda, rushing to the door.
It wasn't. Standing on the other side of the door was Mr. Pyne, the building's landlord and superintendent. The wily, middle-aged man greeted his attractive tenant with the same leering smile he used on every woman in the building. "Good morning, Miss Cain."
"Oh, hello, Mr. Pyne," Melinda replied, avoiding his beady brown eyes. "What can I do for you?"
"I understand your roommate's left town," he said, leaning against the doorway.
"Yeah, I just got the news," Melinda confirmed. "If it's the rent you're worried about, I'll be paying it from now on."
"That's precisely what I was worried about," Mr. Pyne bluntly admitted, conspicuously lowering his gaze to her breasts.
"I'll have this month's payment for you as soon as I can," Melinda promised, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"It's not this month's rent that's bothering me. It's last month's and the month before and the month before."
Melinda gawked at him. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about three month's rent unpaid," Pyne declared.
"Wait here," said Melinda. She hurred into the kitchen where Lizzy always kept receipts inone of the counter drawers. She easily found the rent invoices for the last three months and to her amazement, not one of them had been stamped paid.
"Told you so," snickered Pyne just over her shoulder.
His creepy whisper startled Melinda, who whirled around to find him standing right behind her.
"When can I expect my rent money?" Pyne calmly but ominously demanded.
"W-well...." Melinda stammered. "I don't have it right now. It will take me a little time to get the money together...."
"I'm afraid that won't do, Miss Cain. Either I get my money now or you get evicted."
"Oh, no, please," Melinda pleaded, touching his arm.
Pyne smiled and glanced at her clinging hand which Melinda quickly withdrew.
"Don't do that, Mr. Pyne," she said in a voice quivering with anxiety. "Give me a chance to pay you. What about our security?"
"That only covers one month. Were talking about three."
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Melinda cried.
Pyne paced around her like a hungry vulture. "Well ... seeing how desperate you are ... perhaps we could reach some sort of ... accomodation ... until you get on your feet."
"Oh ... oh, that would be terrific," Melinda agreed gratefully. "Name it."
Suddenly, Pyne threw his arms around her and planted a slobbering kiss against her open mouth. Shocked and repulsed, Melinda pushed him away. "What do you think you're doing!" she protested, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "Are you crazy?"
"What did you expect?" Pyne answered with a laugh.
"Not ... that! I'm not about to put out for a guy like you!"
Her contemptuous attitude infuriated Pyne. He grabbed her arm and twisted it painfully. Melinda cringed in immediate agony.
"You'll either put out or get out," Pyne coldly intoned.
Melinda tried to pry his hand off of her arm, but the more she struggled, the tighter his grip became. Finally, she gave up resisting, yielding to his strength, sinking to her knees as he bent her arm downward.
"You can start right now," Pyne demanded, unzipping his fly. "No, please!" Melinda implored, revolted by his intention.
"Shut up!" he snapped, wrenching her arm until she bowed her head in pain. He then reached into his pants and removed his long, stiff prick. He seized her by the hair, lifted her head and presented his rigid cock to the gaping lips of her mouth.
Melinda flinched, but he held her firmly and with a quick thrust of his pelvis, Pyne plunged his pecker deep into her warm, creamy mouth. "Yeah, that's it," he grunted. "Now suck my dick!"
Gagging on his organ, Melinda tried to withdraw, but Pyne brutally applied more pressure to her aching arm, rendering her helpless. Obediently, she rocked back and forth, sliding her mouth up and down his shaft.
"That's a good girl," purred Pyne. "Stuff your face! Eat my meat!" He punctuated his orders with jerking stabs, darting his dick over her tongue and down her throat, withdrawing to the ridge of her lips, then pressing forward again. "A-a-a-h-h, yeah!" he sighed, swiveling his hips in rhythm with each stroke. "You do it so well. You've had lots of experience, haven't you? Yes, sir," he wickedly chuckled. "Bet you suck all the cock you can get your mouth on."
Melinda ignored his vile remarks, closed her eyes and thoughtlessly went through the motions just to get it over with. But Pyne controlled his lust, intent on prolonging his selfish pleasure as long as he could, pumping his throbbing penis in and out of her drooling mouth with deliberate ease.
"I always wondered what you and your hot little roommate would be like in the sack," Pyne confessed. "Too bad I never got into her pants, but you'll make up for that. I've been dreaming of this for a long time. Used to get hard just watching you climb the stairs with that nice shapely ass of yours swaying. And those legs ... m-m-m-m ... I can't wait to get a taste of your cunt ... eat out your luscious pussy ... suck those big tits of yours ... fuck your ass like a dog!"
Having worked himself up with his erotic expectations, Pyne was writhing with ecstasy, unable to prevent himself from accelerating his thrusts, banging Melinda's mouth at a frantic pace. His blazing cock felt as if it were about to burst and when Melinda bit down on it, that's exactly what it did, splattering her mouth with his ejaculatory discharge. "Ah! Ah! Ah! You fucking bitch!" he joyously hollered, ramming his rod deep into her throat, his knees buckling under the strain.
Pyne collapsed into a chair, his prick shriveling up like a strip of bacon. Released, Melinda ran to the sink and spat out his cum, rinsing her mouth thoroughly with water from the tap.
"Whew!" whistled Pyne, trying to catch his breath. "That was alright." He zipped up his fly and got to his feet, but when he approached Melinda, she quickly moved away from him, the fear and humiliation vividly etched on her face.
"Don't touch me," she warned.
Pyne smiled mockingly. "Better get used to it, honey," he replied.
"Just get out of here," she ordered.
"Sure, babe," said Pyne, walking slowly out of the kitchen and toward the front door. "But I'll be back. In fact, I'll see you tonight."
"Not if I can help it," vowed Melinda, keeping her distance.
"You can't," claimed Pyne. "Either you have the money for me tonight or be prepared to spread ass."
He slammed the door behind him, jarring Melinda's already shattered nerves. It was the most depressing, degrading day of her life and she retired to the bedroom to wallow in her misery. She cowered beneath the sheets and had a good cry, then laid on her back and stared at the ceiling, contemplating a way out of her predicament. She owned very little jewelry, hardly anything worth hocking, had no credit cards or other means of instant cash. There was no immediate solution to her dilemma.
Yet Melinda was determined to avoid Pyne and would never again submit to his sexual advances. She got up and locked her front door, then spent the rest of the day cleaning the apartment, hoping that would help her recover from her harrowing ordeal.
Later that evening, when her chores were complete, Melinda undressed and prepared for a shower. The front door bell rang. She tiptoed quietly to the door and peered through the peephole.
Distorted in the glass was Pyne's ugly, rugged face. Melinda crept away and ignored his repeated ringing and knocking. Eventually, he went away and Melinda contentedly stepped into the shower.
She emerged several minutes later refreshed and cleansed, wrapping herself in a towel that she fastened beneath her arm. She casually drifted from the steamy bathroom into the cool darkness of her bedroom and reached for the lamp switch beside her bed. But when she clicked it on, she discovered Pyne lying on the bed, completely naked, smiling up at her.
"Oh, no!" she gasped, backing into a dresser. "How ... how...."
"You forgot, sweetheart," he crooned, "I have a pass key to your apartment."
Melinda was speechless, trembling in her clinging towel.
"Wasn't nice of you to pretend you weren't home," he chided playfully. "Of course, I knew better. You're a very naughty girl. But naughty girls get spanked."
Melinda bolted for the bathroom door, but be fore she could reach it, Pyne seized her arm, whirled her around and hurled her onto the bed.
Melinda was flat on her back, too terrified to move. "P-p-please ... d-don't!" she begged breathlessly.
"Shut your mouth!" Pyne ordered, reaching down to grasp the towel between her breasts. "Let your body do the talking." Then he furiously ripped away the towel, fully exposing her.
Melinda tried to cover herself with her hands, but her modesty only amused her lustful landlord. Pyne's cock rose to erection and then without warning he pounced, wedging his head between Melinda's thighs, pressing his mouth against the damp fuzz of her cunt.
"No! No! No!" Melinda resisted, pounding the back of his head with her fists.
Pyne gripped her wrists and held them down against the bed while his tongue darted in and out and around her honeypot, savoring the succulent juices of her saucy snatch. When she continued to struggle, flailing her legs, he bit down on her tender twat.
"Owww! Ahhh!" she screamed. "Stop it! Oh, please!"
But Pyne went right on licking and lapping and munching on Melinda's muff with merciless delight. His tantalizing tongue probed her inner recesses and teased her taut clitoris until she could only fend for herself by winding her legs tightly around his neck and jerking him aside.
Furious, Pyne slapped her hard across the face. "You ungrateful bitch!" he hollered, hitting her again and again. "I go down on you and you don't even appreciate it!"
Frightened out of her wits, Melinda covered her face and awaited his next assault.
"Well, if you don't want me to please you, then I might as well please myself," Pyne bitterly concluded. "Roll over on your belly, you slut!"
"Oh, please," wept Melinda, "if you have to do this to me, can't you just do it this way?" She spread her legs and offered him her tempting pussy.
"I can have it that way with any woman," he sneered. "I want to fuck your ass! I want to stick it where it hurts! Now roll over or I'll beat the crap out of you!"
Sobbing like a child, Melinda reluctantly obeyed, turning over slowly until her full, firm buttocks faced him, her thighs spread wide, her anus pink and vulnerable.
"Paradise," Pyne remarked with an appreciative grin. He bent down and kissed her delightful derriere before inserting his tongue into her hole. Melinda flinched at his intimate touch, then squirmed as his tongue wormed its way within, his saliva lubricating her in preparation for his entry.
Melinda endured the ticklish probing of his tongue, but when it abruptly ceased, she was filled with dread. Her anxiety grew as Pyne knelt between her gaping legs and placed his hands on her beautiful buns. His rough fingers pried apart the quivering cheeks of her butt and his eager manhood was poised just an inch from the orifice. He prodded her gently a few times, teasing her, heightening her terrified anticipation. Resigned to the inevitable, Melinda closed her eyes and braced herself.
With a sudden stroke Pyne plunged into her, his prick piercing like a blade, Melinda crying out in anguish. "Ah-h-h, yeah!" grunted Pyne, finding her anus agreeably tight, forcing the full length of his shaft up her ass. Then he slowly withdrew, which was just as painful for Melinda who had to bite down on the bedsheets to keep from wailing. He impaled her to the hilt again and the pain was not as excruciating, but no less unbearable. Melinda hoped she would pass out, anything to escape the humiliating torment Pyne insisted on inflicting.
He sodomized her with meticulous glee, prompting Melinda to ask at one point, "Why are you doing this to me? Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"
"I don't hate you," he murmured in her ear. "I loathe you."
"But why? Why?"
"Because you're like all the rest, all those young and beautiful bitches," he taunted. "You're all the same. You wear your short skirts and tight pants and go braless. You love to tease guys. You love to torture men with your bodies. You tease, but you won't please. You cunts are all alike."
"That's not true," Melinda cried defiantly. "Women like me are loving and caring. We respond to tenderness. Can't you treat me that way? This wouldn't be so bad if you were gentle with me."
Pyne snickered as he continued his deep thrusts into Melinda's ravaged rectum. "Is that what you really want, baby? A gentle hand?" He nibbled on her earlobe and flicked his tongue in her ear. Melinda shivered and for the first time felt the pangs of pleasure.
"Yes," she told him emphatically. "I don't want to be raped. I want to be made love to."
Having nothing to lose, Pyne responded to her request by stroking her back, gliding his hand along the curve of her spine, tracing the slopes of her hips and waist. Melinda propped herself up on her elbows, allowing him to slip his hands beneath her and cup her breasts. As he fondled her tits, Pyne brushed his lips along her elegant neck and shoulders, all the while maintaining the rhythm of penetration, drawing sighs of genuine pleasure from Melinda who was no longer in pain and in fact was discovering the peculiar titillation of the act.
Pyne's hands slid below her belly and into the warm softness of her crotch. When he inserted a finger into her cunt, he was pleased to find it wet. He pressed against her clit and Melinda's body stiffened, her anus contracting tightly around his implanted prick. She moaned deliriously as he pampered her pussy, her initial displeasure transformed into intense yearning. "Oh! Oh!" she whimpered. "Oh, yes! Yes! I love it! I love it!"
Amazed and inspired, Pyne showered her with kisses and caresses, his body writhing against hers, straining to stuff every inch of his cock into her hot, horny hole.
"Oh, please!" begged Melinda. "I want it in my cunt! Please! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
Pyne paused to consider her appeal. "Is that what you really want?" he asked with an uncharacteristic tone of compassion.
He withdrew from her aching anus and allowed her to turn over on her back. Of her own desire, Melinda reached out to take his cock in her hand and guide it to her sultry slit. Hovering over her, Pyne watched as his dick slid smoothly into the tender grip of Melinda's vagina, his most scintillating fantasy finally a reality.
"All of it," she moaned, pressing her hands against his buttocks, forcing him deeper and deeper into her womb. "I want all of it!"
Pyne kissed her, rolling his tongue inside her mouth, palming her tits in his huge hands, grinding his groin against hers.
"O-o-o-o," she sighed. "Give it to me, baby! Bang me! Bang me! I want it so bad!"
Digging his nails into her waist, Pyne fucked with all the force and vigor of a man half his age, watching Melinda's blissfully contorted face as he humped her. Her eyes were sealed in tight creases, her teeth clenched, the muscles of her cheeks flexing with each riveting thrust of his potent prong. As she arched her back, Pyne stuffed her breast in his gaping mouth, sucking hard on the mouthwatering mammary until her nipple was stiff. Then a gentle bite had Melinda gasping with breathless delight. She stroked his sparse head of hair and raked his back with her razor-sharp fingernails.
Pyne answered her animalistic passion with a few raunchy moves of his own, growling his heated breath in her ear, nibbling ravenously on her seething neck and shoulders, scratching her tender flesh with the stubble of his unshaven face, clutching the plump mounds of her sweaty ass while hammering home the blunt instrument of their ferocious fornication.
Melinda lifted her legs and held them aloft as Pyne balled with unrelenting fury. The headboard of the bed kept slamming into the wall with each savage stroke, the springs beneath the mattress squealing with each bounce. Perspiration poured from Pyne's body and mingled with Melinda's own glistening residue. She clung to him in desperate desire, spewing profanities into his face, feeding the fire that burned between their legs.
"That's it, fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she brazenly commanded. "Gimme that dick! Fuck my cunt! Oh-h-h, yeah, baby! Faster! Faster! Fuck me!"
Suddenly, in one impulsive motion, Pyne snatched her hovering ankles, rose to his knees, lifted her legs high and rested them against his shoulders. Holding them there, he continued fucking her in quick, deep stabs, ready to blast a cannonball of cum straight up her scum-sucking cunt.
Nearing a shattering climax, Melinda reached behind her and grasped the brass bars of the headboard. "Oh! Oh! I'm gonna' come!" she cried. "Doit! Doit! Do it!"
Pyne pushed her legs aside, letting them drop and bore down on her pussy, driving his greedy dick as deep as her cunt would take it, ramming her again and again and again until Melinda shrieked with ecstasy. At the height of her orgasm, Pyne squeezed two fistfuls of ass and launched his load, a deluge of semen that seeped out of Melinda's saturated slit and soiled the bed. With a groan of satisfaction, Pyne collapsed in her arms and there remained embedded in her quaking womb.
When he could muster the strength, Pyne rolled off of her, dislodging his diminishing organ. He glanced over at Melinda who laid languidly with her legs still wide apart, her pubic hair drenched with sweat and cum, her breasts and belly rising and falling with each silent breath. Never in his wretched life had he fucked so beautiful a woman or fucked with such passion. And never had a woman responded so enthusiastically despite Melinda's initial reluctance. It was a profoundly gratifying experience for Pyne, one that nearly moved him to tears and made him feel terribly guilty in its aftermath.
Melinda covered herself with the bedsheet and turned her face toward the wall, suddenly ashamed not of her nakedness but of the perverse pleasure she had derived from the act. Her troubled silence drove Pyne from the bed. He quietly dressed himself, glancing occasionally in her direction.
"I ... I didn't mean to hurt you," he shyly confessed. "I couldn't help myself. I wanted you. I wanted you so badly. If I didn't have you, I'd have gone crazy. But I never thought ... No woman ... no woman ever treated me the way you just treated me. I guess ... I'm just a lonely ... ugly man." Pyne suddenly gave up trying to express his feelings. Instead, he headed for the bedroom door, paused and added before leaving, "I won't bother you anymore. If you need time to pay the rent ... I can wait."
Melinda swallowed the lump in her throat, then sat up to thank him, but Pyne was gone. She heard the front door close and slowly sank back into the warmth of her bed. She knew the worst was over and there was nothing to fear. Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow she could start again. Things had to get better. She was too tired to get up and clean herself, too weary to think or plan. Instead, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. It was way past her bedtime.
CHAPTER FOUR
Most of the jobs Melinda had circled in the classified section of the morning paper were taken by the time she applied for them. Her remaining choices were limited. There was a position as a waitress in a Greek restaurant in Staten Island which was too far to travel. There was a part-time job at a luncheonette in the Bronx, but the pay was barely over the minimum wage. That left just one last prospect at a sleazy diner on Twelfth Avenue in the Fifties, a pit stop for local dock workers, construction crews and truckers. With no alternative, Melinda applied.
The proprietor of this ignoble establishment was a fat, bald, disagreeable man named Leo who was so impatient he only asked Melinda three questions: "Have you done this kind of work before?"
"Where?" and "When can you start?" She answered satisfactorily, was told she had the job and was instructed to report the following morning.
No one prepared Melinda for the hectic duties or the lecherous attitudes of some of the customers. Although Gladys, another waitress, warned her of the occupational hazards as they were changing into their uniforms.
"Most of the guys who come in here are just harmless flirts, polite family men who just enjoy a little repartee," Gladys said in a nasal voice mispronouncing the last work. "But some of them are real slobs. All they want to do is pinch your ass."
Melinda couldn't imagine anyone wanting to pinch Gladys' ass since she looked about sixty years old and had the figure of a male wrestler. Still, Melinda heeded her words of caution. "I'll watch out for myself," she assured her.
Her first day got off to a fine start. Both behind the counter and at the tables, Melinda coped efficiently and courteously with her customers, garnered a few compliments and more than her share of generous tips. It wasn't until lunchtime when things got a bit uncomfortable. Four young hardhats seated themselves in a booth and proceeded to disturb the otherwise sedate atmosphere with their unruly behavior and loud bantering.
After they had examined their menus, Melinda approached this motley crew to take their orders. Their eyes lit up at the sight of anything remotely female and the boldest of the four, a grinning, gum-chewing stud with curly blonde hair licked his lips.
"Ready to order?" asked Melinda, her pen and pad ready.
"Sure," he replied, staring at her breasts. "What can I have?"
Melinda shrugged. "Anything you like."
He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"
His pals snickered like schoolboys and nudged each other.
"Anything on the menu," Melinda responded coldly.
"Are you on the menu?" he playfully persisted.
Melinda lowered her pad and sighed. "Listen, fellas," she said. "Gimme a break. This is my first day on the job and I'm trying to impress the boss."
"Well, you sure are impressing us," the rude one remarked with a smile.
"Aw, come on, Mike, leave the girl alone," one of his friends chided.
Mike's smile narrowed just a bit. "I'm only having a little fun," he claimed. "Besides, I can't make up my mind what I want to eat." He picked up the menu and studied it again. "I mean, the chicken looks good, but should I have a breast or a leg?" As he spoke he glanced inconspicuously at Melinda's well-proportioned figure and drew stifled giggles from his buddies. "Or maybe ribs," he considered, checking out Melinda's compelling curves. "Trouble is ... I want something mouthwatering," he declared, staring directly at Melinda's crotch. "Something raw, hot and juicy."
Seething with anger, Melinda turned and started to walk away. "Let me know when you make up your mind."
But Mike quickly reached out and caught the hem of her skirt. "Whoa. We know what we want," he told her. "Beefburgers, fries and beer."
"How do you want your burgers?" Melinda asked, jotting down the order.
"Well done. And toast the buns."
"Got it," said Melinda, quickly scribbling.
As she walked off, she overheard Mike quip, "I'd love to stick some beef between her buns." Hearty laughter followed her into the kitchen.
When she returned later with the food, Melinda was more subdued. As she placed the plates on the table, she had to bend over and in doing so, gave the boys a breathtaking view of her delectable cleavage.
"Mm, sure looks scrumptious," Mike remarked.
Melinda straightened up and kept an expressionless face. "Enjoy your meal," she muttered, then turned to leave.
"Ah, Miss...." Mike called after her.
Melinda paused and slowly returned to the table, an exasperated look on her face. "Yes, what is it?" she asked sharply.
Mike smiled innocently. "May we have some ketchup, please?"
She had forgotten to put a bottle on the table. Embarrassed of her hostile behavior, she quickly apologized, "Oh, sorry." She snatched the ketchup from another vacant table and placed it in front of Mike.
"That's all right," he replied smugly. "After all, it is your first day on the job."
Silently fuming, Melinda rushed into the kitchen to pick up another order. "Those guys are animals! " she complained to Gladys. "Especially that blonde smartass!"
"Yeah," Gladys agreed. "I know who you mean. Those guys always give us a hard time. But if you play along with them, they tip pretty well."
"Play along with them?" snapped Melinda disdainfully. "They're a pack of leering wolves."
"So what? Give them what they want."
"They want me! Preferably for dessert!"
"Shake some tail," Gladys outrageously advised. "A sexy smile, a wink. It works wonders. They'll let up on you and you'll be richer for it."
"I'm a waitress, not a whore," Melinda indignantly maintained.
Gladys smirked. "Honey, we're all whores." Then she picked up an order and left.
Melinda was momentarily astonished, then considered Gladys statement and realized she wasn't too far off the mark. It wasn't the first time she had encountered obnoxious customers and surely not the last. With the paltry sum she was being paid to take this abuse, Melinda depended heavily on her gratuities.
Awhile later she returned to the table with an entirely different attitude and pleasantly inquired, "How is everything here? You boys okay?"
Her sudden friendliness took all four of them by surprise. Even Mike was at a loss for a clever comment. The best he could do was stammer, "Ah ... we're ... we're fine."
Melinda flashed her brightest smile, as if auditioning, and sweetly declared, "If you need any thing at all, just give me a call."
Speechless, they all watched as she walked away, noticing the graceful sway of her hips.
Melinda's performance paid off, for when they left, the four hardhats left a hefty tip. "Thanks, fellas," she chimed as they shuffled out the door. "Come back real soon."
Mike paused in the doorway and returned her teasing smile. "That's for sure," he promised.
Melinda managed to get through the week without any major mishaps or hassles, although her first paycheck and tips were barely enough to provide for her needs, much less help her to pay off the money she owed to Pyne. Still, it was better than being unemployed. She didn't see Mike or his friends again until a few weeks later when he showed up alone one evening.
The place was nearly deserted. Leo was busy in the kitchen, Gladys had gone home for the night and there were only two customers at the counter. Melinda was twenty minutes from quitting time when Mike walked through the door and sat down in a booth at a far corner of the diner.
She brought him a menu and casually informed him, "We have a special tonight-turkey platter with mashed potatoes and gravy."
"What I want is not on the menu," he just as casually replied, stripping her with his eyes.
"Come on," Melinda groaned. "Let's not start that again. Can't we keep it friendly?"
"That's exactly how I want it," Mike maintained. "I want us to be really friendly."
"Sorry," said Melinda, "I'm not interested. Now, if you'd like to order...."
Mike shook his head, reached into his pocket and withdrew a fifty dollar bill. He placed it on the table, looked up at Melinda and asked, "Interested in that?"
His bluntness flustered her. "You can't mean...."
"Look," he said, "I don't like playing games with women. When I see one that turns me on, I do whatever it takes to get her." He slowly reached out and touched her thigh just above the knee. Melinda flinched, but made no effort to remove his hand. Instead, she glanced nervously over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching. Fortunately, the two customers at the counter had their backs turned to them and were too far away to hear the conversation. "I'm willing to pay for it," Mike declared, moving his hand under her dress, up the thigh of her sheer pantyhose.
Melinda closed her eyes and bit her lip. She was strangely enticed by his proposition and his senuous touch, finding it hard to offer even token resistance. He was rather handsome and if he was mean, it only enhanced his sexuality. The offer was out of the question, but undeniably tempting.
"Look at me," he gently commanded.
Melinda opened her eyes and stared into his.
"Fifty dollars," he smiled. "It would take you a week to make that much in tips. All I want is fifteen, twenty minutes alone with you. And I promise ... you won't be bored."
Just as his hand reached her crotch, Melinda grabbed his wrist and forced it away. "I'm not a hooker," she told him.
He grinned. "That's what makes it exciting."
His words sent a shiver through Melinda. She looked at the fifty dollars on the table and carefully considered the offer. There didn't seem to be much difference between fucking Mike for cash and fucking Julius Huxton for a part in a play, except with Mike she'd have something to show for the effort.
"If anybody finds out...." she warned.
"Nobody will," Mike assured her. He slid the fifty dollar bill to the edge of the table. "Take it."
"I get off in fifteen minutes," Melinda told him, pocketing the cash.
"Good. Bring me a cup of coffee," he ordered. "I'll meet you outside later."
Melinda nodded and backed off.
"Oh, one more thing," he said. "Keep the uniform on, but take off the pantyhose."
Melinda couldn't help but smile at his titillating request. She was actually going to go through with it and worse than that, she looked forward to it with enthusiastic anticipation. Mike reminded her of a boy she once dated back in her hometown in Pennsylvania, an arrogant lout who worked as an auto mechanic at a local gas station. His name was Bruce, but he insisted on everyone calling him Skip. He'd take her to drive-ins and secluded parking spots, anywhere that they could be alone and could use each other to indulge their adolescent lust. It was with Skip that Melinda learnt the pleasures of the flesh without the trappings of a loving relationship. What attracted her most to Skip was his callously aggressive if not necessarily brutal approach to sex, an unpretentiousness that was as strangely reassuring as it was excitable. He'd assert his masculinity in simple-minded, macho fashion, always smelling of either beer or sweat, ridiculing her opinions, referring to her in profane terms like "bitch" or "cunt," forcing her to submit to humiliating acts, the most memorable of which was the time he drove her out to the woods, tied her spread-eagled to the ground, blindfolded and gagged her, stripped her, fucked her and left her there for an hour while he drove back to town. When he returned, he fucked her again, but she had no way of knowing whether it was him or a stranger who had found her in so vulnerable a position. Later he would laugh about the incident and although Me linda pretended to be upset, she actually enjoyed the terrifying experience.
When another waitress relieved her, Melinda slipped into the rest room where she peeled off her pantyhose and stuffed it into her handbag. She freshened up before her rendevous, brushing her hair, applying a new coat of lipstick and dabbing herself with cologne. She then hurried outside where she spotted Mike waiting in a doorway down the block. She joined him and they headed west to Eleventh Avenue where there was a construction site on the corner.
Mike led her through a space in the wooden barriers that bordered the property and held her hand as they descended carefully through the dark to an excavation where they were concealed by mounds of dirt.
"How romantic," Melinda sarcastically remarked, glancing around at a stack of drain pipes, a bulldozer and an enormous derrick.
"Come on," said Mike, tugging on her hand.
"Where to?" she asked.
"My crane," he replied proudly, referring to the derrick. "You can't be serious."
Mike placed her hand on the bulge in his crotch. "You're serious," she said.
He lifted her off the ground and onto the derrick's long wheel, then hopped aboard. He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, dropped his pants to his knees and sat down inside the machine.
"Park your pussy on this, baby," he said, holding his swollen cock straight up.
With a grin, Melinda hoisted her black skirt to her waist, straddled his thighs and slowly lowered her cunt onto his lap, absorbing the full length of Mike's stiff dick.
"Mmm, yeah!" he moaned approvingly. "Hot and tight! Just like I want it!" He reached up and unbuttoned Melinda's white, ruffled blouse, delighted to find that her bra had a snap in the front. He unfastened the clasp and filled his hands as her tits spilled from the cups.
While Mike nursed on her nipples, Melinda bounced up and down on his crane. "Slowly," he advised her and she complied, writhing and grinding at a patient pace, rising to the head of his penis, then sliding down to his balls, the strain of his raw shaft against the walls of her vagina igniting a short fuse of desire within her.
"Ever get fucked like this before?" he asked, tonguing her tits.
"Once," Melinda breathlessly replied, "in the Tunnel of Love."
"You're shittin' me," Mike skeptically scoffed.
"No, really," she swore. "It was at an amusement park in Pennsylvania."
"Tell me about it," demanded Mike. "Gimme all the dirty details."
"Okay," said Melinda, talking while she pumped on his plump pecker. "I was seeing a boy named Skip, a horny bastard like you. He liked to take me places where we could be alone and he could get into my panties, like at drive-ins and abandoned parking lots, in cornfields and deep in the woods. Once we even made it in the dugout of a baseball field at two in the morning. But one of our favorite places was in the Tunnel of Love. That was dangerous because even though it was dark in there, you never really knew when the ride would be over. If we got carried away with ourselves, we could get caught. But that was what was so exciting about it. I used to suck his cock and he'd come just before our car burst through the swinging exit doors into daylight. I had to swallow his cum to hide the evidence and he'd have to stash his prick and zip up his fly without anybody seeing him. One time his zipper got caught and he had to stand behind me getting off the ride."
"Bet you loved sucking his cock," said Mike, flicking her nipples with his tongue.
"I sure did," she murmured in his ear, knowing it was what he wanted to hear, "but not as much as I loved taking it in the cunt."
"I can dig it," laughed Mike, cranking her cunt with his able cable. "Tell me more about the Tunnel of Love."
"Once I refused to go down on him, so Skip reached under my skirt and ripped off my panties. Then he ate out my pussy and it was the wildest experience I ever had. Ghosts and goblins were popping out of nowhere, left and right, while this long, wet tongue was licking my clit. I came in thirty seconds flat."
Mike growled with delight, squeezing her firm buns and driving his mighty muscle of manhood as far up as it would go. "More!" he insisted. "Tell me something really hot!"
"I saved the best for last," Melinda giggled. "Skip got tired of quick blowjobs and wanted to ball me in the Tunnel of Love. I made sure I didn't wear panties under my dress and once we were inside, Skip had me straddle him just like this."
"Yeah, yeah, go on," said Mike, fantasizing the scene, assuming the role of Skip, the darkness around them becoming the Tunnel of Love.
"His cock was so big, so long and hard," Melinda reminisced. "It ripped into me like a bayonet, but I loved it. He took hold of my ass and bounced me on his lap and in the dark I could hear the sucking noise of his meat sliding in and out of my slippery pussy...."
"Yeah! Yeah!" grunted Mike.
"And he started calling me every filthy name he could think of. Cunt! Bitch! Whore! Slut! Cock sucker! And it got me hot ... really hot! I was burning up with desire. Then I ripped open his shirt...." Melinda demonstrated by tearing open Mike's shirt. "And like a cat, I sank my claws into his chest." Her nails raked his breasts until Mike groaned with pleasure.
"His dick was churning inside of me," Melinda moaned. "I couldn't help it, I had to come. I let out a scream, the kind you always hear on those spooky rides, but it was a cry of ecstasy and nobody suspected a thing."
"Then what? Then what?" begged Mike, squirming and straining.
"Then I looked over my shoulder and noticed the red exit light approaching. Panicking, I got off of Skip and rearranged the hem of my dress. 'But I didn't come yet!" he cried. 'I'll jerk you off later,' I promised. 'The fuck you will,' he replied angrily, having just enough time to slip his cock back into his pants. When we got off the ride, Skip tried to drag me by the hand behind one of the concession stands, but I resisted. After all, I was satisfied. I didn't care if he still had a hard-on. Furious, Skip slapped my face and pulled me by the hair. Everyone stopped and stared, but assumed it was just a lover's quarrel and didn't want to get involved. He took me behind the stand where no one was around and in broad daylight forced me to my knees while he whipped out his big, fat prick. I opened my mouth to protest and he stuffed it with eight inches of stiff dick. He shoved it clear down my throat...."
"Oh, yeah! Yeah!" Mike ranted, titillated by every word she uttered, writhing with passion.
"He held my head tightly in his two hands and forced his cock in and out of my mouth. In and out, in and out, until he finally ejaculated, pouring buckets of scrumptious semen into my gullet. I had no choice but to swallow his creamy cum and I gulped it down as if it were vanilla custard. He just didn't stop. He kept spurting and spurting and I kept sucking it down to the last juicy, slimy drop!"
Mike went absolutely wild, howling like a dog in heat, spearing Melinda's cunt with a thrust of his throbbing cock. Trembling all over, glistening with sweat, he held her tightly and came like a bullet, unleashing his load in one great, splattering burst. Melinda followed a moment later, clamping his hips in the grip of her quivering thighs, her orgasm not as intense, but deeply fulfilling.
They embraced in the aftermath, Mike stroking her luscious limbs, Melinda nestling his head between her heaving breasts, sapping him of his remaing strength, absorbing the last of his diminishing lust.
A short while later, they disengaged, Melinda dropping her skirt and buttoning her blouse. While Mike lingered, too pooped to get up, she hopped off the derrick.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Home," Melinda replied, shouldering her handbag and starting to walk back up the hill that led to the street.
"You were great, babe," he called after her. "Let's do it again some time."
"See you around," she said over her shoulder.
That wasn't so bad, thought Melinda. In fact, the experience gave her an opportunity to brush up on her acting. The Tunnel of Love story was purely fiction, although it did sound like something Skip would have done. If there was anything Melinda was good at, it was improvising a yarn. That and something else.
CHAPTER FIVE
Within two weeks, Melinda had made enough money servicing Mike and his hardhat buddies to pay off Mr. Pyne. She would have continued this lucrative enterprise were it not for the intervention of the local authorities.
She had just finished giving one of the guys his fourth blowjob of the week in the front seat of his car parked in an empty lot when her career as a moonlighting hooker came to an abrupt end. She pocketed her pay, said her goodnights and got out of the car, heading north on Eleventh Avenue to catch the crosstown bus at Fifty-Seventh Street.
Suddenly, a police car pulled up to the curb, a cop leaped out from the passenger side and grabbed her by the arm.
"Okay, you're under arrest," he routinely informed her.
Melinda's heart stopped. She stared at him with wide eyes and a dazed expression. "What?"
"You have the right to remain silent...."
"Wait a minute!" she said in a panic-stricken voice. "What's going on? What's the charge?"
"Prostitution," declared the cop, a tall, husky man with steely blue eyes, a bushy brown moustache and the name Barnett on his badge.
"There must be some sort of mistake," Melinda laughed nervously.
"No mistake, Miss. Now get in the car and I'll read you your rights on the way to the station," ordered Barnett, pulling her toward the waiting vehicle.
"But I haven't done anything!" Melinda desperately insisted, refusing to comply with his strict request.
"Should I add resisting arrest to the charges against you?" the policeman threatened.
Frightened and confused, Melinda complied with the officer's demand and got into the backseat of the car. They sped off and followed the flow of traffic north.
"Really, you're making a terrible mistake," Melinda whimpered, fighting back tears.
"Why don't you just cut the bullshit, sweetheart," the driver advised. "We've been watching you for days."
Barnett held up a pair of binoculars to verify his partner's claim. "And boy, you really did put on a show, fucking and sucking all those guys. You've been a busy beaver lately."
"Please," Melinda wept, "give me a break."
Barnett and his partner laughed. "Sure, babe, we'll give you a break," said Barnett. "We'll pour you a cup of coffee while we book you."
"But ... I haven't hurt anybody," Melinda protested.
"On the contrary," the driver contradicted. "You've been hurting business in the neighborhood. Every whore in a ten-block radius is pissed off with you. They don't fancy freelance hookers in this part of town. Neither do we, if you know what I mean."
"So we've got to see that you're put out of business," added Barnett.
"Look, I swear, if you let me go, I won't do it anymore," Melinda pleaded.
"Well, that's really considerate of you," said Barnett sarcastically. "But I'm afraid we can't let you off the hook that easily."
"What is it that you want?" asked Melinda, reaching into her handbag. "Money? I have fifty dollars...."
"Bribing an officer?" shuddered Barnett.
"Well, tell me what you want!"
Barnett nudged his partner and smiled. "What do we want, Stan?"
Stan glanced at Melinda in the rearview mirror. "We don't want your money, honey."
Melinda took a deep breath and sighed. "Oh, I see. Well, I don't want to go to jail."
"Now, that's a good girl," grinned Barnett. "It's always best to cooperate with the law."
Stan made a left turn and headed toward Twelfth Avenue. He stopped abruptly in front of an abandoned garage and shut the motor. He and Barnett hopped out of the car, opened the door for Melinda and hustled her out.
"Where are we? What is this?" she asked.
"Let's go, move it," ordered Stan, shoving her toward a metal door beside the closed vehicle entrance.
Barnett fished a key from his chain and unlocked the door. Then all three of them disappeared quickly into the vacant building, the door slamming shut behind them.
It was dark and damp inside, but Melinda could see that the place was empty, just one huge area with concrete pillars, faded yellow parking lines and a tunnel to a lower level. The two policemen escorted her across the garage and down the tunnel's twisting slope. It was even darker on the level below, so Barnett flicked his cigarette lighter and guided them to a room beyond a row of parking spaces.
There he was able to switch on a dim light bulb that hung from the ceiling. It was a small, narrow room with brick walls and a stone floor, a storage area that resembled a dead end alley. The only thing there was a worn mattress tucked in a corner.
"Okay," said Barnett to Melinda. "Lean your hands against the wall."
"Why?" she questioned suspiciously.
Barnett suddenly drew his nightstick and slammed it against the brick wall. The sound was so loud, so menacing that it petrified Melinda. "Do what I say, bitch, or I'll bust your fucking head open!" he roared.
Terrified by his fury and hostility, Melinda obeyed, placing the palms of her hands against the cold wall and leaning with her legs out. She dared not imagine what they had planned to do to her.
"Spread those legs out!" Stan demanded, kicking her ankles to separate her feet.
"Is this necessary?" asked Melinda in a faltering voice.
Barnett slammed his nightstick against the wall again, barely missing her fingers. "Keep your fucking mouth shut, you slut!" he shouted. "I don't want to hear another word out of you!"
Melinda kept silent from then on, trembling with fear.
"Now...."said a subdued Barnett, standing behind Melinda between her legs. He tucked his nightstick in a small holster attached to his belt and discarded his cap. Then he frisked her, running his hands from her waist to her armpits, amusing his partner. His groping became more intimate as he pressed his groin against her buttocks and reached around to cup her breasts. "M-m-m...." he moaned, caressing her tits through her uniform, rubbing the bulge in his pants between the cheeks of her ass. "This suspect's carrying concealed weapons," he facetiously declared.
Stan gloated and watched with titillation as Melinda nervously squirmed. She lowered her head so they wouldn't see her humiliation as she endured Barnett's sexual intimidation.
He leaned forward and nibbled on her ear as his hands unbuttoned her blouse and his stiff dick nestled against the groove of her ass, taut beneath her tight skirt. He tongued her ear while squeezing her firm jugs until they nearly popped out of her brassiere. He felt her nipples harden under the soft lace and tauntingly murmured, "You're going to love it, baby. We're going to suck your tits and fuck your cunt and you're going to love it...."
Barnett kept one hand on her breasts and moved the other behind her. He raised her skirt and placed his hand on her ass, slipping it beneath her pantyhose and skimpy lace panties to clutch her sweet buns. Then he forced his hand under her and reached up to touch the warm, hairy lips of her cunt, cramming his fat, rough fingers into her dry pussy.
Melinda stiffened as he entered her, but his soothing touch on her sensitive clitoris soon relaxed her. Further stimulation led to the secretion of her feminine juices, lubricating her accessible vagina.
"Getting hot, aren't you?" Barnett whispered in her ear. "Hot and wet. Your cunt's hungry for cock, isn't it?"
"Let's fuck the bitch," Stan gleefully suggested, impatient for a piece of pussy.
"Not just yet," said Barnett, removing his hand from Melinda's drooling snatch. "First, let's play with her."
Barnett stepped away from Melinda, then quietly ordered, "Stand up straight with your face to the wall."
She obeyed without question.
"Put your hands behind your back," he told her.
Melinda hesitated, afraid he would handcuff her.
"Now!" he hollered.
Reluctantly, she crossed her wrists behind her. Sure enough, Barnett snapped on the cuffs and Melinda was helpless.
"Turn around, cunt," he cruelly commanded.
Slowly, she turned to face him, although she was too ashamed to look directly into his eyes. Yet she would recall his features for many years to come. He was a broad if not obese man with short, dark and greasy hair, a pug nose and a jutting jaw. He wore a perpetually smug expression on his face that made it clear he was as heartless as they come.
Suddenly, he tore open her blouse, the buttons flying in all directions.
"Let's get a good look at her bust," said Stan, gleefully licking his lips like a wild cat contemplating his next meal.
Barnett reached between Melinda's breasts and unclasped her bra. Her tits popped free, full, rounded mounds of flesh exposed for their delight. With her hands bound behind her back and her shoulders erect, Melinda's chest was thrust out like an offering.
"Beautiful," Barnett marveled, taking each of her tits in his hands, kneading them, squeezing them, pinching her pert nipples between his fingers.
Melinda closed her eyes and bit her lip as Barnett fondled her. She was as aroused by his domination as by his lustful intentions. She was reminded once again of Skip. How he'd appreciate this moment, Melinda helplessly chained, stripped, used like a piece of meat. It was awful, but it was awfully good.
Barnett placed his lips between her breasts and pressed her gorgeous nuggets against the sides of his face. Melinda opened her eyes and glanced at Stan whose hands were on his crotch, rubbing his bulging prick as he watched them. "Suck her tits!" he hissed.
Finding it an appealing suggestion, Barnett wrapped his arms around Melinda's slender waist while his mouth attached itself to one breast at a time, sucking hard, lashing her nipples with his lizard-like tongue. She closed her eyes again and swooned, desire burning between her legs.
The cop slowly fell to his knees, sliding his salivating tongue down to her belly. He unzipped her skirt and yanked it down to her ankles, then looped his fingers around the elastic waistbands of her panties and pantyhose, peeling them over her hips and down her thighs. Lifting one leg at a time, Barnett stripped Melinda of her undergarments and feasted his eyes on her exquisite nudity.
"Sweetest pussy I've seen in years," he remarked, stroking her legs as he gazed admiringly at her tempting fleece. "Wonder if it tastes as good as it looks."
"Hey, man," laughed Stan. "I wouldn't eat that cunt if I were you. You never know whose scurvy dick was in there last."
"You've got a point," Barnett concurred, rising to his feet. "Besides, I think it's time we put her beautiful mouth to work." He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and let his pants drop to his knees. "Kneel," he said to Melinda.
Quivering with renewed anxiety, she sank to the floor, a chill raising goose bumps on her arms and legs.
Barnett lowered his briefs and stood up straight, his big, bold cock snapping to attention. "Now crawl on over here and give me head," he commanded.
Melinda had no choice but to obey, scraping her bare knees on the dirty concrete to reach his throbbing organ. She dispensed with her usual oral foreplay and instead gobbled his immense manhood whole. As his prick plunged into her hot, gaping mouth, Barnett emitted a sigh of intense pleasure and reached down for his nightstick. Gripping both ends of the club, he lowered it behind Melinda's neck and used it to entrap her head in the proximity of his groin. Held firmly, Melinda could not escape as he jerked his hips and pumped his penis in and out of her throat. By now well-experienced in the art of fellatio, she consumed every inch of him, devouring his dick from the tip of its head to the base of its shaft, her lips closed in a tight circle, her cheeks pulsating with the powerful suction of her mouth.
"How is she?" asked Stan.
"Better than the whores on Eighth Avenue," groaned Barnett.
"Well, hurry up. I want a piece of her."
"Patience, pal. I'm just warming her up for you."
Melinda's jaw was starting to get sore, but she could not free herself from Barnett's grip. He selfishly coveted her, driving his blunt beefstick in "and out, again and again with unrelenting force. He knew there was a limit to how much Melinda could take, but he intended to enjoy himself until then.
Fearing no end to her predicament, Melinda faked gagging in the hope that Barnett would come. He leaned back against the wall and started grinding his hips, rolling his prick around her mouth, building the momentum of his ultimate climax. Gritting his teeth, he rocked back and forth, in and out, around and around, tightening his grip on the nightstick until a rush of ecstasy brought him to the brink and he discharged his creamy load.
This time Melinda really did gag and as soon as Barnett released her, she tumbled away, gasping for breath, semen dripping from her lips.
Barnett pulled up his pants and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. He wiped Melinda's mouth dry and stashed his nightstick in its holster. "She's all yours," he told Stan, backing off.
"About time," his partner whined. "My balls turned blue waiting on this cunt." He slowly approached Melinda, who scrambled to her feet and cringed against the wall.
Stan removed his cap and handed it to Barnett, then turned toward Melinda and smiled. He was a leaner man than his partner, but even less appealing with his graying crewcut hair, beady brown eyes and pale, ragged complexion. Melinda was intimidated by his leering scrutiny as his eyes studied her nakedness.
Suddenly, he reached for her crotch and Melinda closed her thighs on his hand.
"Open your legs, slut!" he shouted in her face.
Afraid of his unpredictable rage, Melinda parted her thighs and allowed him to fondle her genitalia. Stan shoved several of his fingers into her snatch, prodding and probing as if conducting an intimate search. "Just as I thought," he lamented. "Her cunt's tight, too tight for my big, fat cock."
He removed his fingers and reached for his nightstick. "I'll have to dig a bigger hole...."
Panicking, Melinda bolted for the door. She bounced off both men, sending them sprawling to the floor, and dashed out of the room. She ran virtually naked through the cold, dark garage and toward the tunnel leading to the next level, but as she mounted the steep slope, her legs buckled and she fell. It was difficult to get up with her wrists bound behind her, although Melinda persevered, regained her footing and continued her ascent.
But before she could escape, Barnett and Stan caught up with her. She put up a fight, flailing her legs, biting the arms that grabbed her, but was ultimately subdued. In the fracas, one of the men viciously ripped off her blouse and tangled her bra around her handcuffed wrists. When Melinda continued to struggle, they picked her up and carried her back down to the storage room.
She was hurled onto the mattress and before she could get up again, both men pounced on her.
"Hold her down!" barked Stan.
Barnett gripped Melinda's shoulders and pinned them to the mattress. Meanwhile, Stan wedged himself between her kicking legs and strained them with his strong arms. "No use fighting," he laughed, taunting Melinda. "You can't get away.
Melinda let out an ear-splitting scream. "Help! Help! Help!"
Stan and Barnett chuckled. "Scream all you want, honey," said Stan. "Nobody can hear you.' And to demonstrate he hollered, too. "Help! Help!"
"Please!" begged Melinda. "Let me go."
"But I haven't fucked you yet," Stan replied. Melinda began to cry. "Don't do this to me, please!"
"No use crying. I don't intend to let you go until I bang the shit out of you. Might as well relax and enjoy it."
"No! Please! No! Don't!" Melinda sobbed, but to no avail. Stan clutched his nightstick in one hand and a fistful of Melinda's pubic hair in the other. He forced the handle of the club an inch into her gash and twisted it around. Melinda cried out in pain as he literally screwed the stick deeper and deeper into her vagina. The smooth wood squeezed its way through her narrow womb and its handle's ridges rubbed hard against her taut clitoris.
"It'll hurt at first," Stan casually admitted, "but after awhile, you'll love it."
"No! No!" wept Melinda, thrashing her head from side to side. 'Stop it! Stop it!"
But the more she protested, the more she incited his vile cruelty. Stan pushed the nightstick several inches deeper until Melinda shrieked with agony. Then he paused and slowly withdrew the club. As it slid back, Melinda inhaled through clenched teeth and groaned. It was not a groan of pain, but of a moment's pleasure. Stan drove his stick forward again, but not as deeply. Melinda's struggling all but ceased as she surrendered to this strange violation. Her tense vaginal muscles relaxed as the stick entered and reentered her, adapting to its length and width. In no time, Stan was moving the billy club in and out of her like a musician drawing a bow across the strings of a violin.
"You like it, don't you?" Barnett whispered in her ear, noting the delirious expression on Melinda's face.
"Y-yes...." she ashamedly admitted, swaying her hips from side to side as she absorbed the stick.
Barnett relaxed his grip on her shoulders and moved his hands to her breasts. Melinda moaned as he massaged her tits and bent low to kiss her on the lips. She accepted his open mouth and sucked on his tongue while Stan stroked her thighs and continued to prod her pussy.
"Oh-h-h!" Melinda shuddered, tearing her lips away from Barnett's, writhing and lifting her hips with each potent thrust.
When Stan withdrew the nightstick completely, Melinda begged for more. "Don't stop! Not yet!"
"I've got something better for you," he bragged, unbuckling his belt. "I'm going to give you a fucking you'll never forget.
Kneeling between Melinda's legs, Stan dropped his pants and proved that all his bragging was far from it. He was hung like a horse with a dick that exceeded Melinda's wildest expectations. He noticed the astonishment on her face and smiled proudly. "Before I finish with you," he promised, "you're going to beg me to ball you."
He shoved his hands under her, clutched the cheeks of her ass and lifted her pussy off the floor. Melinda's cunt was simmering in its own hot juices, a red, raw slit that protruded from its frizzy bush of pubic hair. It seemed to beckon him with its animal scent.
He traced the lips of her cunt with the tip of his penis, teasing and frustrating her. He pressed an inch within and grazed her clitoris to which Melinda flinched and stifled a whimper. Encouraged by her response, Stan nudged her clit again, grinding his foreskin against her tender spot, drawing a succession of moans, groans and shivering sighs from his helpless prisoner of lust.
Then he deliberately withdrew, denying Melinda the pleasure of his titillating prick.
"Why'd you stop?" she asked with an edge o desperation in her quivering voice. "You know you want it."
"Maybe not as much as you," smiled Stan "Isn't that right?" Melinda did not reply.
"Isn't that right?" Stan repeated, brushing his hand against her pussy.
Melinda stiffened at his touch, desire seething from every pore of her body. "Yes!" she conceded.
Holding his cock in his hand, Stan tickled her twat. "Tell me what you want," he playfully demanded, "and tell me where you want it."
Melinda bit her lip and squirmed with unbearable yearning. "I want you to fuck me," she finally declared. "I want you to stick your dick in my cunt and fuck me!"
Stan winked at a smiling Barnett. "Happy to oblige," he whimsically replied.
Firmly clutching Melinda's thighs, he guided his piece to the brink of her sodden snatch. With a sneering grin on his face, Stan plunged into her, impaling her to the hilt. Melinda's cry of ecstasy echoed through the cavernous walls of the subterranean garage.
Stan delivered what he had promised. He worked his cock in and out of Melinda with the speed and force of a jackhammer. His hips jerked incessantly, bucking and grinding, wedging his taut, throbbing meat deep into her torrid orifice, sliding it out, sliding it in, again and again and again. He relished the dazed and enraptured expression on Melinda's face as his pelvis twisted and his manhood churned within her ravaged womb.
While his partner heartily humped, Barnett availed himself of Melinda's tender tits, flicking her budding nipples with the tip of his tongue, stuffing his mouth with her succulent mounds. She began whining like an alley cat in heat, so Barnett removed the handcuffs, allowing her to wind her arms around his neck and tangle her fingers in his hair, holding his head against her heaving bosom.
Digging the heels of her feet into the mattress, Melinda lifted her hips to meet Stan's brutal and relentless thrusts. Inflamed with lust, she contracted her vaginal muscles to tug on his slithering prick, thereby savoring every inch of its exquisitely unendurable pleasure. That slowed him down for as her womb tightened like a fist around his penis, his own passion intensified.
"Shit!" hissed Stan through clenched teeth. "Best piece of pussy I've had in months. Too good to be true."
Abruptly, he yanked his tool free and forced Melinda to roll over on her belly. Seizing her by the waist, he entered her cunt from behind to fuck her doggie-style, shoving his ramrod as far up her moist slit as it would reach, slowly withdrawing, then surging forward again, withdrawing, in again, out again, building momentum.
"Oh, yeah, that's it! That's it!" exclaimed Melinda in a breathless, gasping cry. "Give it to me! Come on! I want it all! More! More!"
Stan pounded her pussy with all the fury he possessed, driving Melinda so wild that Barnett had to restrain her. He grasped her wrists and stretched her arms as if strapping her to a rack. It only succeeded in exciting her beyond control, stripping her of her last remaining inhibitions.
Stan's body covered hers, pinning her to the mattress, his hot breath murmuring in her ear, "My sweet pussy ... my sweet slut ... feels so good ... feels so fine...." He licked her ear and Melinda shuddered, beads of sweat dotting her brow, her rich, pungent feminine odor permeating the room, enticing and inciting her recklessly horny playmates.
Melinda never wanted it to end, but Stan's grinding thrusts became too overpowering for her delicate sensibilities and she felt herself hurtling toward a monumental climax. "Harder! Harder!" she deliriously implored. "I want it so bad! Ohh! Ohhh!"
Stan's teeth bit into the scruff of her neck and his hands raked the flesh beneath her arms, along her ribs, waist and thighs, reaching under to grope her scorching snatch, clawing at her clitoris as he dug his spade deeper and deeper into her hot, horny hole.
"Oh-h-h, no! No!" Melinda groaned. "I'm going to come! I can't help it! I'm going to come!"
"You'll come all right, baby!" Stan emphatically agreed, stabbing her cunt. "You'll come and come and come and come!"
Melinda pressed her face into the filthy mattress to stifle a scream as the first of her multiple orgasms swept over her like a tidal wave. Her body stiffened as if touched by a live wire and a sensation of unimaginable pleasure erupted between her legs.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Stan bore down and slam-banged her with all the raw fury and passion he possessed, as if flooring an accelerator and racing to the finish line. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he chanted, soaring to heights of ecstasy he had never reached before. At its peak, he held his breath, slid hard and deep into Melinda's snatch and exploded his cannon. Grunting like a pig, he creamed her cunt, then collasped on her back.
Barnett released Melinda's arms and stood up. He scooped up his cap and poked his partner in the ribs with the tip of his shoe. "Come on, stud. We've got to split."
Stan raised himself on weak, wobbly arms and shook his head. "Whew! That was a great piece of ass!" Then he dislodged his petering pecker from Melinda's muff and struggled to pull up his pants.
"See you around, babe," said Barnett on the way out.
"For your sake, I hope we don't," warned Stan.
Melinda was too exhausted to move, physically and emotionally numbed by the experience. Her brief moment of pleasure now seemed so vulgar and humiliating. Bitterness set in. All men were alike, she concluded, rolling over onto her back, the stark lightbulb burning into her eyes. All men wanted was to use and abuse her. Even when she played by their rules and gave them what they wanted, they treated her like a thing instead of a person, two tits, an ass and a cunt. There was no such thing as love or tenderness. It was just an illusion. Well, fuck it, she decided. Survival was all that mattered and she was determined to survive.
Melinda dressed herself in whatever remained of her tattered garments, trudged out of the room and found her way through the dark to the street above. Hardly anyone noticed the dissheveled state she was in as she wandered homeward. And if they did notice, no one cared.
CHAPTER SIX
Melinda could never go back to the diner, so she didn't bother explaining her reasons for quitting. Instead, it was back to job-hunting. This time, however, her prospects had improved. She was a great believer in success depending on being in the right place at the right time and when she inquired about a position as a waitress at the Footlight Cafe, she was thrilled to discover that her services were needed.
The restaurant was located between Broadway and Eighth Avenue in the theatre district, a favorite dining spot of theatre-goers, producers and established performers, many of whose framed, glossy photos hung from the walls. All of the waiters and waitresses employed by management were aspiring actors and actresses and the competition for a job there was usually stiff. But whereas Melinda was once turned down for this reason, she now found a willing employer in entrepeneur Cy Silvermann.
"Like I told you last time you were here," Cy explained, "we get more applicants than we can possibly use, but the turnover's pretty hectic. Girls like you get spotted by a producer and BAM! They're on the next flight to Hollywood."
"Well, with my kind of luck, I'll probably be working here for the rest of my life, "Melinda pessimistically replied.
"I think not," Mr. Silvermann optimistically disagreed, peering over his wire-rimmed spectacles. "You've got the look."
"The look?"
"Yeah, the look. The look of a future star."
Melinda's hopes momentarily brightened. Then she realized Silvermann's smile was a teaser. "You probably say that to all the hired help."
"I do," he admitted, "but usually I mean it and sometimes I'm right. Who knows? It's a crazy business."
Accepting that conclusion, Melinda overlooked her prospects as an actress and devoted her energies to her new job. She assimilated quickly, easily making friends with her fellow employees and performing her duties efficiently. As for meeting influential show business people, she rarely got the opportunity to serve a recognizable theatrical agent, producer, writer or entertainer, but the mere presence of such a celebrity in the restaurant kept her hopes alive.
One day, however, she overheard an interesting conversation between two distinguished-looking gentlemen in a booth.
"I'm over budget as it is," the man with curly gray hair and moustache lamented. "If we shoot those sequences out of town, I'll be up to my ears in red ink."
"But you know the film's guaranteed a profit," his burly but mild-mannered associate argued. "Nothing's guaranteed nowadays," the filmma ker scoffed. "Sure, my last three pictures scored big, but they were produced at half the cost of this project."
Curious, Melinda hustled over to her newfound friend Jennie who was preparing a salad near the pick-up counter. "Say, Jen, who's that guy sitting at Table E5?" she asked.
Jennie, the showbiz expert, paused and squinted across the dining room. "Ha!" she snorted. "Forget it."
"But who is he?" Melinda persisted. "Les Turner."
Melinda pondered the name. "Doesn't ring a bell."
"He produces and directs porno movies."
Melinda's eyes widened with surprise. "Really?"
"Uh-huh. Nice guy, but wrong vehicle."
"Why? What's wrong with porno films?"
"Nothing," shrugged Jennie, "if you want a short career."
"There's got to be some money in it," Melinda assumed. "There's certainly a demand."
"Listen, honey," Jennie warned, "the major stu dios don't hire ex-porn queens."
"So what?"
"So when you get older and your tits start to sag, you're out of work. You don't graduate from fuck flicks to Lady MacBeth, you know."
But Melinda was not deterred. She unsnapped the top button of her blouse to provide a glimpse of cleavage and headed straight for Turner's table.
"Excuse me," she said with a bright, friendly smile, "but aren't you Les Turner?"
He glanced up and was immediately impressed with her charming face. "Yes, I am."
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've enjoyed a number of your films."
He seemed surprised, "you have?"
"I'm not an avid adult moviegoer," she modestly conceded, "but yours are done so ... so ... intelligently."
Turner was genuinely flattered. "Why, thank you. May I ask your name?"
"Melinda Cain."
"Melinda Cain," he repeated. "Is that a stage name?"
"Nope. It's all mine."
"Sounds very professional, distinctive," he alleged. "May I introduce my assistant, Gordon Sharpe."
"How do you do?" said Melinda. Gordon acknowledged her with a shy nod.
"Tell me, Melinda," said Turner, "have you appeared in any films? Any shows?"
"A few off-Broadway productions," she claimed. "I haven't had the good fortune of working in films yet, but I'd love to."
Detecting a hint of enthusiasm, Turner facetitiously asked, "You wouldn't be interested in doing a porno flick, I suppose."
"On the contrary," Melinda replied, "I'd be very interested." Then she added humbly, "But do you think I'm attractive enough?"
The question forced Turner to consider Melinda's physical qualifications. He scruntinized her from head to toe before answering. "There's no question that you're attractive. But can you ... ah ... act?"
"You mean, am I inhibited?" she clarified.
"Yeah, that's what I mean."
"Not in the least."
Turner was skeptical. "Are you sure? For instance, could you go down on an actor you've just met in front of a camera and a crew?"
"If the script calls for it," she maintained.
"We rarely use scripts. We improvise."
"Sounds great," Melinda cheerfully declared. "I know I could handle it."
"I wouldn't want to deceive you, Ms. Cain," Turner stated. "My pictures are strictly hardcore. That means intercourse, cunnilungus, fellatio, group sex, anal sex, lesbianiam ... in detail ... in close-up."
"When do I start?"
Turner laughed. "You're hot to trot, aren't you? Don't you have any reservations at all?"
"None whatsoever."
Turner glanced at Gordon who simply shrugged his shoulders. "Well," sighed the producer, "as it so happens, I can use a girl for a scene in my latest film. I was going to use one of my regular starlets, but she wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Would you mind auditioning for the part?"
"Of course not."
"Would you be available this evening?" asked Turner.
"Sure. When and where?"
Turner handed her his card. "That's the address of my studio. Eight p.m.?"
"I'll be there," Melinda promised, stashing the card in her apron and dashing off to pick up an order.
She arrived punctually at the loft building down on Warren Street. She rang the only buzzer on the metal entrance marked Sweet Treat Production Company. An overhead intercom inquired, "Yes?"
"Melinda Cain to see Mr. Turner," she announced herself.
There was a long pause, then she was buzzed in. Melinda climbed a long, narrow stairway to the reception area of an office upstairs. There, behind a cluttered desk, she found Les Turner rummaging through his paper work.
"Hi," he greeted, setting his documents aside and rising from his chair. "Welcome to the den of iniquity."
His humor helped to put Melinda at ease. "Quite an empire you have here," she whimsically mused, glancing around the small room.
"There's more," he said, motioning for her to follow him through another door.
They stepped into a much larger studio complete with scaffolding, lights, microphones, several movie and video cameras, and a set composed of bedroom furnishings. Turner pointed to a king-size bed with satin sheets and pilowcases. "At least two hundred people have gotten laid in that bed," he proudly declared.
"Not all at the same time, I hope," Melinda quipped.
Turner burst out laughing, put his arm around her shoulder and gave her an affectionate hug. When his laughter subsided, he asked, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
Melinda nodded less than wholeheartedly. "As sure as I'm ever going to be," she answered.
Just then, the door opened and in strode a handsome, robust, Hispanic man dressed in a red T shirt, designer jeans and boots. "Sorry I'm late, Les," he politely apologized.
"Here's your leading man," Turner sarcastically announced. "Melinda, this is Ariel Sanchez, alias Johnny Lancer," he introduced. "Ariel, Melinda Cain."
"Nice to meet you," said Ariel, extending his hand.
Amused by the formality, Melinda smiled and accepted his gentle handshake.
"Shall we get down to business?" Turner suggested.
"What's on the agenda?" asked Ariel, so business-like about the whole affair.
"I'm testing Melinda," Turner explained. "I'm going to have her strip, then I want the two of you to get it on in various positions. I'm videotaping it and then we'll play it back and see how it looks. Okay?"
Ariel nodded.
"Okay?" Turner asked Melinda. She bit her lip and nodded with a hint of anxiety. "Melinda, would you please stand beside the bed," Turner directed.
As Melinda took her position, the producer lifted a video camera off its tripod and hoisted it onto his shoulder. Peering through the lens, he adjusted his picture of the aspiring actress whose image appeared on an off-set monitor.
"Okay," said Turner, "without looking at the camera, pretending you're alone, start to undress."
Under the glare of the hot lights, under the watchful eyes of two virtual strangers, Melinda slowly disrobed. She unbuttoned her ruffled white blouse and kicked off her black, high-heel shoes. Next, she unzipped her tight, black tweed skirt. As she popped a side button, the garment fell to her ankles and she gracefully stepped aside, leaving it on the floor in a crumpled heap. Then she removed the blouse, her breasts brimming from the cups of a white lace bra. Her half-slip soon followed as she stripped down to bra, panties, garter belt and stockings.
"Nice," Turner murmured, assessing her attributes through the camera lens. "Very nice. Now take off the bra and panties, but leave on the garter belt and stockings."
Obediently, Melinda unsnapped the bra and shrugged the straps from her shoulders. In the same fluid motion, she peeled her skimpy bikini panties down her legs and over her ankles.
"Looking good," Turner declared, zooming in for a close-up of her full, firm tits and luscious crotch. "Now lay down on the bed. Ariel ... get undressed and join her."
As Melinda sprawled across the bed, Ariel yanked off his shirt, removed his boots and tugged off his skin-tight jeans. He wasn't wearing any briefs. At the sight of his muscular, nude body and well-endowed genitalia, Melinda's nipples hardened. Ariel moved toward her with a casual, disinterested look on his face. After all, she was just another piece of ass. He must have fucked dozens of women in his line of work. But his dispassionate attitude strangely enticed Melinda, heightening the anticipation of the intimacy they would soon share.
"Give me lots of foreplay," Turner requested, moving closer to get a tight shot of the video lovers.
Ariel's lips covered Melinda's mouth with a lingering kiss. She responded with enthusiasm, opening wide to his probing tongue. As he kissed her, Ariel explored her with his hands, gently but thoroughly caressing her naked flesh, fondling her breasts, bare and stockinged thighs, and buttocks.
"Good," Turner remarked. "Touch her all over."
Ariel did so without having to be told. He stroked her cheek, her neck and shoulders, his fingertips gliding around and around her stiff nipples, then sliding down her belly and into her warm, hairy crotch. He went on sucking her mouth as his fingers traced the rim of her vagina, stimulating her with his slow, patient technique. Then he inserted his middle finger and drove it deep into her cunt, down to the knuckle. Melinda broke the kiss and moaned with unmistakable pleasure.
"Nice move," said Turner, concentrating on the embedded digit. "Now finger her hole."
Ariel licked Melinda's ear and nibbled on her neck while he finger-fucked her. In no time, her pussy was moist and Ariel worked on her clitoris, rubbing her raw, pink button until her snatch yearned for hard meat.
"Suck her tits," Turner ordered.
Complying with his director's wishes, Ariel lowered his lips to Melinda's buxumous boobs, rolling his tongue around her pert nipples, flicking and licking her tantalizing tits. His hands reached up to clutch her breasts and held them firmly as he took turns sucking each one.
In the meantime, Melinda got a grip of Ariel's prick. She repeatedly yanked his stiff dick until she had him groaning, his mouth stuffed with her succulent mammary and his joint being jerked off.
"All right," Turner interrupted, moving around to the foot of the bed, "now I want you to go down on her."
On cue, Ariel removed his lips from Melinda's nipple and ran his nimble tongue down her belly and into her navel. It lingered there for a moment, tickling her. Then the young stud buried his face in Melinda's beaver and shoved his tongue deep into her tasty twat. She stiffened as he licked her clit and dug her fingers into his dark, curly locks.
"That's it," Turner encouraged, getting down on his knees beside the bed to get an extreme close-up of Ariel's darting tongue. "Eat her out! Eat her out!"
Ariel's talent for sucking pussy was indisputable. Melinda could not imagine how many women he had serviced, but could tell he had plenty of experience. He mauled her muff with his greedy mouth, hoisting her thighs onto his shoulders and slashing her clit with his flicking tongue. Tugging on his hair, Melinda began grinding her pussy against his face. He reached up and squeezed her tits, pinching her nipples between his fingertips. Melinda twisted her head toward the camera and gasped.
"Cool it, Ariel," Turner advised. "I don't want her to come yet. It's her turn to give head."
Abruptly, Ariel released Melinda's tits and withdrew from her saturated slit. He rolled over on his back beside her, his swollen dick stretching up to his belly button. She sat up and gazed at his muscular anatomy.
"What are you waiting for?" asked Turner impatiently.
"I was just admiring his body," Melinda explained.
"Never mind his body. I want you to go down on him."
She reached down to pet his prick and soon found herself massaging his entire crotch, kneading the taut muscles of his thighs and groin, fondling his cock and balls. She bent down to kiss the tip of his penis, then glided her soft lips along the shaft, dipping low to lick his balls, then slowly dragging her wet tongue up the length of his organ as if toying with a lollipop. Then holding it upright, Melinda lowered her gaping mouth and proceeded to suck his meat.
"Slowly," Turner coached. "Remember, you're not making love to him, you're making love to an audience."
The whole experience reminded Melinda of a cross between one of her acting classes and one of the tricks she had turned while waiting tables at the diner. There was a thin line between the fantasy world of acting and the reality of hustling a career.
While she worked her mouth up and down on yet another hard cock, Melinda couldn't distinguish the difference.
"Terrific blowjob," raved Turner as if he were the recipient.
"Muy bien," moaned Ariel in agreement.
"All right," Turner interrupted, "now I want you to straddle him."
Melinda took Ariel's dick out of her mouth and looked at the camera. "Straddle him?"
"Yeah, fuck him, but with you on top."
"Oh."
Melinda knelt astride Ariel's hips and held his cock steady as she lowered her cunt. His slick tool slid smoothly into her snug snatch, a fit so right that Melinda closed her eyes and swooned.
"Nice bit of acting," Turner complimented, not knowing any better. "Now ride that stud."
Melinda bobbed up and down as if riding a carousel, her pussy packed with nine inches of solid penis. Murmuring in Spanish, Ariel ran his hands up her stockinged thighs and gripped the straps of her garter belt, tugging on the elastic strips as if they were reins, pulling her back down every time she lifted herself up.
"Whew!" Turner whistled. "I love it! I love it!"
Melinda threw her head back and let her golden blonde hair hang down, her spine arching, her nipples pointing straight up. She put her arms behind her and clutched his knees to steady herself as she pumped her pussy on Ariel's meaty throttle. Writhing with unendurable pleasure, the horny Hispanic palmed the cheeks of her ass and squeezed the firm, plump mounds of flesh.
Turner backed off a bit for a wider shot. "Sit up, Ariel! Rock it!"
Sanchez shot up and pressed his face between Melinda's breasts. She cradled his head in her bare bosom and purred like a kitten. Embracing tightly, they started to rock back and forth.
"Faster! Faster!" Turner shouted. "Push harder and harder until she tips over on her back with you on top."
Ariel and Melinda seesawed to and fro until Melinda toppled backwards to her shoulders and Ariel assumed the superior position. Pinning her to the sheets, he locked his arms around her thighs and balled her with ferocious vigor, weaving in and out, around and around, skewering her sheath with his sinewy shaft.
Turner got so excited, he nearly dropped the camera. "Hot damn! Keep it up and you'll melt the negative!"
Keeping it up was exactly what Ariel did. In a business where he got so much pussy he had to turn it away, Melinda was by far the best piece he'd had in a long memory. His hot breath murmured endearments in her ear, all in his native, romantic tongue, while his riveting rod provided the punctuation.
Melinda rubbed the back of his thighs with her nylon limbs and clawed red marks across his writhing back, provoking his mounting lust. Her nipples prodded his hairy chest and her wicked tongue lashed out to lick his neck and chin, tasting his salty sweat.
Without withdrawing from Melinda's cunt, Ariel crossed her leg over his head and turned her over on her side, then went right on drilling her while he fondled Melinda's tits.
"Bend that knee, Melinda," said Turner. "Don't be shy. That's it. I don't want to leave anything to the imagination."
Melinda complied, offering the camera a close-up of her scrumptious pussy accommodating Ariel's slithering cock. The camera panned slowly to Melinda's face which had become a portrait in ecstasy. Her eyes, dazed with rapture, gradually closed tight, creased with intensity. Her nostrils flared, her mouth gaping, her complexion burning bright red. It was as erotic an expression as any assortment of cunt-fucking and cocksucking Turner had photographed for film. He knew he had found himself a first-rate, high-class porno queen.
"Doggie position!" he barked, creatively inspired.
Snapping to Turner's commands, Melinda got up on all fours while Ariel knelt behind her. Sinking his fingers into the soft flesh around her waist, he plied her pussy with deep, deliberate thrusts.
"Ah-h-h-h!" gasped Melinda, pleased beyond her expectations, rotating her hips to enjoy and absorb every lean inch of him.
"That's it! That's it!" panted Turner, running his own tongue over his parched lips. "Grind, baby, grind! Crank that crane!"
Biting her lip, Melinda withstood Ariel's persistent buggering, expanding and contracting her vaginal muscles to make his entry as tight and pleasurable as she desired. She groaned when he reached up and squeezed her tits, milking her like a cow, fucking her like a sow. She spread her legs wider and wider, wishing he were a foot longer, as hungry for his meat as he was for her snatch.
"I want you to come in her ass," Turner insisted.
"Oh, please!" Melinda objected. "I'm so close to coming myself! Don't make him stop!"
"Don't worry, babe, Ariel will get you off," Turner promised. "But I want him to fuck your asshole."
"Anything you say," Melinda breathlessly agreed. "Just do it! Do it! I want it so bad!" Ariel withdrew from Melinda's slit, pried apart the cheeks of her ass and shoved his cock straight into her anus. Melinda gnashed her teeth to stifle a cry of pain, then pushed back to jam the rest of his dick into her throbbing asshole.
Ariel placed his hands on Melinda's firm belly and started poking her butt, his bony hips pounding against her ravaged rump. Moments later, he spread his fingers and moved then into her clammy crotch. Both hands massaged her pussy, whipping her into an instant frenzy. Melinda quivered and whimpered as if tormented, but it was an exquisite torture that satisfied her deepest yearning.
When Ariel pressed down on her clit, Melinda jumped. "O-o-o-o! That's it! Touch me there! Oh! Oh! Rub it hard! Oh, yeah! Yeah! Harder! Harder!"
Sanchez crushed his thumb against the tender spot and slammed into Melinda's hole.
"Uh!" she grunted. "Again!"
He repeated the potent combination. Again Melinda cried out. "More! More!"
Pinching her clit, Ariel fucked her ass with relentless fury. It was more than enough to trigger an innumerable series of orgasms for Melinda. Finally letting go, Ariel forced his cock in all the way and came with a shudder. He clung to Melinda as he creamed her ass with his spurting load. Then he fell back on the bed, utterly exhausted., Turner zoomed in for a shot of Ariel's cum seeping from Melinda's red, raw hole before her knees gave out and she collapsed on her face.
"Dynamite!" hailed Turner, turning off the camera. He fetched a pair of dry towels and handed them to Ariel and Melinda, then hurried over to the video monitor. "I want to play this back."
After wiping herself, Melinda gather her clothing and started to dress, self-conscious of her nudity. Ariel, on the other hand, was sprawled out on the bed, contentedly recuperating from the strenuous workout.
Turner replayed what he had recorded and was exceedingly pleased with the results. "Check it out," he said excitedly over his shoulder to Melinda. "You look fabulous!"
Melinda watched quietly as her video twin stripped down to her garter belt, entranced by the spectacle of herself on a small screen submitting to various carnal acts with a strange man. It was when she viewed herself giving head to Ariel that Melinda's fascination began to turn to embarrassment, then to shame. She could not bear to see herself being eaten out and fucked, and while Turner reveled in the erotic quality of the tape, Melinda started to cry.
"Hey, hey, what's this?" asked Turner, rushing to her side. "What's the matter?"
"I-I-can't-watch it," she sobbed uncontrollably.
Bewildered but concerned, Turner put his arm around Melinda's shoulder and comforted her. "For Pete's sake, don't cry. It's all right."
"Please, turn it off!" she bawled hysterically.
"Okay, okay! I'll turn it off!"
While Ariel looked on with utter indifference, Turner shut off the monitor, but it wasn't enough to pacify Melinda who went right on weeping. "I hate it when they cry," Turner mumbled, sitting down on the bed next to her. "Tell me what's wrong."
"I-I feel like such a tramp," said Melinda.
"Look, it's your first time ... it's only natural for you to feel a little ... strange about this kind of work. I warned you it wouldn't be easy.
"It's not just this," she tearfully told him. "It's everything. The way I live, the way I behaved, all the compromises I've had to make. I came to New York with a dream, an ambition. I'm a serious actress. I have a talent, a gift. Why am I doing what I'm doing? How did things get so out of hand?"
"I think you're overreacting," said Turner, trying to comfort and reassure her. "You were great. You have a natural flare for this kind of product."
"I don't want to be a product. Don't you understand? I'm not saying it's wrong or indecent. But it's not really me. I thought it was. I thought it could be. I thought I could settle for this. But I can't. I didn't realize it until I saw myself on tape. I've been letting men use me and if I'm ever going to be a success, I can't let myself be used anymore."
"Okay, okay," Turner reluctantly conceded. "So it's not your cup of tea. I think you're making a mistake, but if that's what you want...."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Turner. I'm sorry I wasted your time."
"No harm done," Turner kindly assured her. "You learned something about yourself tonight. That's what's important. I could sure use someone like you, but I'd rather see you happy."
"What are you going to do with the tape?" asked Melinda worriedly.
"Erase it, of course."
"You're really a very sweet man."
"Of course, I am! I've been telling people that for years. Now why don't you run along. Go home and take it easy. If you change your mind, call me. I won't forget you."
"Thanks," said Melinda, kissing him on the cheek. "And thank you, Ariel."
Still lounging in the nude, Sanchez raised his head to bid farewell. "Hey, listen ... why don't I give you my number? Anytime you want to get down again...."
Melinda smiled. "Thanks just the same. Bye."
"So long, sweetheart," said Turner.
After Melinda had left, Ariel slipped back into his jeans and lit a cigarette. Slapping Turner on the back, he laughed, "That was one fucked-up chick. Nice piece of tail, though."
Turner ignored him and rewound the video tape.
"You ain't gonna erase the tape, are you?" asked Sanchez.
"Right now," Turner replied.
"Are you crazy, man? You could sell that to every loop joint in Times Square. She'd never know."
Turner cast a cold, disapproving stare at his prolific stud. "I don't operate like that. Believe it or not, I have my integrity."
Sanchez clapped his hands and howled with laughter.
"Go on and laugh, you big prick," Turner muttered with a grin. His smile faded as he reflected on the evening's events. "She's a cute kid. She'll be a pleasure to watch on the screen someday." Then abruptly dispeling his lapse into sentimentality, Turner cleared his throat and proceeded to erase the tape. "Did I ever tell you about the time I met Marilyn Monroe?" he asked.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Secure in her job at the Footlight Cafe and surrounded by show business personalities, Melinda found her days of relative anonymity quite endurable and often pleasant. Her confidence in herself had been restored and she still held the belief that with patience and perserverance, her aspirations would one day be realized.
However, it came as a shock to her when one afternoon she spotted none other than Julius Huxton sharing a table with a voluptuous brunette. Controlling her lingering bitterness, she calmly approached the couple to take their order.
"Mr. Huxton?" she said, interrupting his conversation with the other woman.
He turned slowly and peered up at her with a smug expression. "Yes?"
"Don't you remember me?" asked Melinda casually.
Huxton glanced at his date, then stared at Melinda without the slightest hint of recognition.
"Melinda Cain," she told him, hoping that would be sufficient to jog his memory, but without success. "I auditioned for you a few months ago The Becker play. The one that didn't get off the ground."
"Oh," he grunted.
"Don't you recall?" Melinda persisted, annoyed by his ignorance. "We had a private audition and got the part, only the part didn't have a show to go with it."
"I recall the play," he remarked dryly, then turned to his menu. "We're in a bit of a rush Could we order?"
Outraged, yet concealing her anger, Melinda played along with Huxton's arrogant charade
"And what would you like, sir?"
"The young lady and I will have spaghetti with clam sauce and a bottle of Chianti."
Melinda jotted down the entrees, accepted the menus and quietly disappeared.
She returned a minute later with the wine and a basket of sliced Italian bread and went virtually unnoticed by the infatuated couple who were preoccupied with their witty conversation. Again, Melinda withdrew without a word.
Fifteen minutes later, Melinda brought their order. She carefully placed a plate of piping hot spaghetti on the table before the brunette. "Enjoy your meal," she chimed, then turned to Huxton. "Your spaghetti, sir," she announced and merrily turned the plate upside down over his head.
The brunette gasped. Patrons seated around the tables stared in stunned silence. Melinda dropped the empty plate on the table, put her hands on her hips and enjoyed the spectacle of wiggly spaghetti strands sliding from the top of Huxton's head, down his face and onto his suit.
Huxton glared up at Melinda, too astonished and humiliated to say anything at first. Melinda reached for a bowl of grated cheese and began sprinkling it on his head. "Some cheese with your spaghetti, sir?" she playfully offered.
Huxton got up from his chair and tightened his fists. "Why you ... you...." he growled. "Look what you've done to my suit!"
"You deserve worse, you creep!" shouted Melinda with an anger so intimidating that Huxton backed off a few steps. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Dumping the show and leaving town after you used me! And then you pretend you don't even know me! Oh!" she fumed. "Spaghetti with clam sauce is too good for you! You ought to have your stupid face buried in a mound of shit!"
"You're crazy ... absolutely insane!" Huxton ranted. "Where is the manager? I demand to see the manager!"
Mr. Silvermann entered the fray, took one horrified look at Huxton and turned on Melinda. "What the hell is going on here?"
"This ... this ... lunatic deliberately poured my food all over me!" Huxton accused.
"I'm sure it wasn't deliberate," Mr. Silvermann insisted, hoping he was right.
"It was deliberate," Melinda readily admitted. "I owe this bastard a taste of his own humiliation."
Silvermann was panic-stricken. "Do you know who this gentleman is?" he asked Melinda.
"Yes," she replied, "and he's no gentleman. He's the son of a bitch who promised me a job if I fucked him. Only I'm the one who got fucked!"
"Have you lost your mind?"
"No, just my temper," Melinda retorted. "My mind is finally at ease."
"You're fired," Silvermann announced. "And don't ever let me see you in here again."
Melinda tore off her apron and draped it over Silvermann's shoulder. Before she left, she turned to Huxton's date and asked, "Does he still do it with his boots on?"
The wide-eyed brunette confirmed it with a flaming red blush.
It was the greatest scene Melinda had ever played and she basked in the glory of her outspoken performance. But her pride began to wane two blocks away from the restaurant. Gradually, she stopped on the busy sidewalk and realized what had actually happened. "Fired?" she murmured to herself. "Oh-h-h...." she groaned. "What have I done?" She ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. "What do I do now?"
A hand gently touched her shoulder and Melinda wheeled around. A handsome but timid young man with dark brown hair and hazel eyes smiled at her. "Excuse me," he said, "but I was wondering if I might have a word with you."
"Oh, get lost," she muttered, starting to walk away.
"Wait a second," he pleaded, following her. "I saw what happened in the restaurant."
"Great. Then you just saw me making a complete fool of myself."
"I thought you were marvelous."
"Thanks, but if you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone."
He grabbed her arm and forced her to stop. "Please, just listen to me." Melinda sighed and confronted the stranger.
He introduced himself. "My name is Tim Rader. I'm a filmmaker."
The name caught Melinda by surprise. "Tim Rader? As in ... TIM RADER!"
He nodded modestly.
"You were nominated for an Academy Award last year."
"Yes, I seem to recall," he laughed.
"It's ... it's a thrill to meet you." said Melinda nervously. "I read all about you in...."
"Never mind about me," Rader interrupted. "It's you that I want to talk about."
"Me?"
"I'm about to shoot a picture in New York and there's a small but important part I have yet to fill. It calls for a frustrated young woman trying to make it as an actress and working as a waitress. Think you could handle it?"
Melinda shook her head and laughed. "My first movie role and already I'm typecast." His offer was too amazing to think over. How could she possibly refuse? "Do you really think I can do it?"
"If you can inject the same energy and anger I witnessed in the restaurant into your performance, I think you'd be perfect. Besides," he said, alluding to her uniform, "you already have your costume."
"If you really want me, I'm all yours." Melinda gladly agreed.
"Great. Come on," said Rader, taking her by the arm. "We'll discuss it over coffee. From now on, you're the one who's going to be served."
In less than a month, Melinda was before the cameras and under Rader's patient and meticulous direction, she rendered a sensitive and auspicious performance in her first supporting role. Suddenly, she was surrounded by cast and crew members who predicted a rewarding career and publicists who were more than enthusiastic to promote it. Her name began appearing in entertainment columns and strangers were actually asking for her autograph prior to the release of the film.
She was attracted to Rader, not only for the obvious reasons that he was handsome, influential and unattached, but because of his pleasant and considerate nature. Yet, although he sent her roses when Melinda finished shooting her scenes, Rader gave no indication of wishing to develop their relationship, nor did he respond to her numerous acts of flirtation. Undaunted by his apparent timidity, Melinda pursued him even more aggressively. At the cast party celebrating the film's completion, she made her interest in Rader quite obvious.
"Now that business is out of the way, why don't we get together?" Melinda suggested, sipping champagne and looking absolutely ravishing in a slinky red dress with a low neckline.
"I'd like that," claimed Rader awkwardly, "but I am rather busy. I don't have time for socializing."
"Actually," Melinda confessed, "I had something more intimate in mind."
Rader smiled faintly and lowered his head. "Thanks, I'm flattered, but ... ah...." He looked up and pretended to notice someone. "Will you excuse me, Melinda? I see an old friend of mine and I ought to say hello." He walked away, leaving her puzzled and disappointed.
Melinda approached one of the other actresses in the cast and engaged in a gossippy conversation. "Tell me something about Tim," she asked.
The actress looked intrigued. "Sure, what is it?"
"Is he ... is he gay?"
The actress snorted a laugh. "Where did you ever get that idea?"
"Well," explained Melinda. "I never see him with anyone off the set, he doesn't flirt and in spite of the fact that I've practically thrown myself at his feet, he hasn't made a pass at me."
"Tim's aloof with women for an understandable reason," the actress maintained. "You see, he was married to a beautiful young woman and ... well ... two years ago she died in a car accident."
Melinda was surprised and sympathetic. "That's awful."
"Yeah ... well, he's come to grips with the tragedy, but he's been unable to become romantically involved with anyone. That's why he immerses himself so deeply in his work. "You can't blame him."
"No, of course not," Melinda readily agreed.
"So don't feel unappreciated. He's probably very fond of you, but he can't express or encourage his emotions, at least, not yet."
The revelation only heightened Melinda's desire for Tim. What he needed was love, she decided, and she was just the woman to provide it. Since all of her other efforts had failed, she believed a more aggressive approach was necessary.
Rader's New York accomodations were at a quaint hotel overlooking Central Park South. He returned to his hotel room after midnight, undressed and stepped into the shower. Just as he was drying himself, there came a knock at his door.
"Who is it?" Tim called from the bathroom.
"Room service," a female voice responded.
"Room service?" he said to himself. "Just a moment, please."
He donned his bathrobe and knotted it securely before answering the door. To his utter surprise and amusement, he found Melinda dressed in her waitress uniform and holding a tray with two glasses of white wine.
"Nightcap, sir?" she quipped with a sly smile. "Compliments of the house."
Tim laughed warmly. "Cute, really cute. Come in. I could use some company."
Melinda detected a hint of sadness in his tone as she stepped into the room. "You seem a bit glum," she noted. "Is everything all right?"
"It's nothing," he insisted, closing the door. "I'm always a little blue at the end of a project. You get close to the people you work with and then you have to end friendships."
Melinda placed the tray on a dresser and handed Tim his glass. "Ours is one friendship that doesn't have to end."
"I'll drink to that," Tim toasted, then gulped down the entire glass.
Melinda pressed her lips to the rim of her glass and sipped slowly, leaving behind a red lipstick stain. She stared at Tim until he shyly looked away.
"Excuse the way I'm dressed," he said. "Or rather, the way I'm not dressed. I just stepped out of the shower."
"Oh?" Melinda replied, toying with his belt. "You mean, you're naked under that bathrobe?"
Tim disguised his embarrassment with a laugh. Then he sighed. "Don't bother seducing me," he intuitively remarked. "I'm not worth it."
"I disagree," Melinda persisted, tugging on the belt.
Tim placed his hand over hers. "Don't," he gently chided.
"That's my line," said Melinda with a smile. "And usually when I say it. I don't mean it."
"Well, I do," Tim assured her. "Why? Don't you find me attractive?"
"Extremely. It's just...."
"What?"
"I'm not ready to get involved with anyone," Tim firmly maintained.
"That's a poor excuse," scoffed Melinda.
"You wouldn't be very happy with me."
"Why won't you give me the chance to find out? I know for sure you'd be happy with me."
"Frankly, I don't think I could be happy with anyone," Tim pessimistically concluded.
"You'll never know unless you try," Melinda doggedly argued, giving the belt one more tug, undoing the knot and opening the robe.
Wavering, Tim looked tenderly into her eyes. "I'm afraid," he admitted.
Melinda caressed his cheek. "I won't hurt you. I promise." She leaned forward and kissed him. As her lips lingered against his, she placed her hands on his bare chest and slowly scraped her fingernails down his firm, muscular flesh, over his ribs and around his waist. She felt his cock surge between them and broke the kiss with a triumphant smile.
"I've never been kissed by a waitress before," he whimsically murmured.
"I'll do anything for a big tip," she joked, fondling his prick.
Melinda removed his bathrobe, stood back and admired his body.
"Disappointed?" he asked.
"Not in the least," Melinda replied, staring longingly at his impressive physique and especially at his huge erection. Running her wet tongue across her dry lips, her obvious approval reassured Tim, whose initial self-consciousness faded as he displayed his manhood without shame.
"I'll bet you've never undressed a waitress before," said Melinda.
"Only in my mind," Tim whimsically admitted.
"Strip me," Melinda implored.
Moving toward her, Tim extended his trembling hands. He unbuttoned her blouse and parted it to expose a black lace bra. He then wound his arms around her waist, untied the knot of her apron and let it fall to the floor. Deftly, he unbuttoned and unzipped her tight skirt. Melinda wiggled until the clinging fabric slid from her hips to her thighs to her ankles, then stepped out of it. Her black half-slip was easily discarded, leaving her in bra, panties, stockings and spiked high-heel shoes.
Tim paused to appreciate Melinda's alluring figure clad only in the skimpiest black lace and nylons. Then, unable to deny his desire, he proceeded, unsnapping the front clasp of her bra. Melinda's tantalizing tits spilled free, their nipples as hard as cherry stones. Tim's thumbs hooked around the straps of the black bra and lifted them off her shoulders. He tossed aside the intimate garment and rendered her naked from the waist up.
"You have beautiful breasts," he remarked, taking them in his hands, kneading and squeezing them.
"Suck them," Melinda whispered breathlessly.
Tim nestled his face in her bosom, then tickled each nipple with the tip of his nimble tongue. As he softly sucked her tits, Melinda stroked his stiff dick and tenderly murmured, "O-o-o, that's it ... that's my baby ... oh, it gets me hot ... so-o-o hot!"
Melinda then took his head in her hands and lifted it from her breasts. With parted lips she kissed him again, her tongue probing his mouth, tasting the wine on his breath, licking his warm lips. In the meantime, Tim's hands explored her soft, supple body. One hand slipped under her sheer panties and caressed her firm buttocks. The other hand massaged her crotch through the black lace. Melinda groaned as his fingers pushed aside the elastic of the bikini and wormed their way through her curly locks of pubic hair and into the moist warmth of her cunt. She embraced him passionately, pressing his rigid member against her belly, grinding her pussy around his inserted fingers, churning them in her internal juices.
"Oh, I want you so badly," she whimpered in his ear. "I-I want you, too," Tim realized aloud, prodding her snatch with his dexterous digits.
"You're the first man I've ever really wanted to make love to," Melinda revealed. "All the others! let them have me and I enjoyed it, but when it was over, it didn't mean a thing."
"You don't have to tell me this," Tim told her.
"But I want to," Melinda insisted. "I want you to know everything about me-what I think, what I feel. I want to give it all to you. I want to please you. I want to give you more pleasure than you ever thought existed!"
Suddenly, Melinda pushed him away. Caught off guard, Tim fell back onto the bed, his prick springing upright, poised like a lance. Smiling down at him and at the bulging shaft between his parted legs, Melinda slowly stripped off her panties and tossed them onto Tim's chest. He clutched the soft lace in his fist and raised it to his face, inhaling her fragrant and sassy female scent.
Disrobed to a black garter belt, dark nylon stockings and high-heels, Melinda knelt between his legs and ran her fingers up his outstretched thighs. "Don't be afraid to come in my mouth," she said in a sultry tone. "I intend to suck you dry."
Excited by her deliciously dirty mouth, Tim spread his thighs even wider over the edge of the bed so that Melinda's pretty face hovered over his naked crotch.
She stared longingly at his organ, simply studying its features, appreciating its imposing, manly beauty. Then she blew cool air along its rigid stem, around its sensitive crown, ruffling the thick pubic hair that sprouted at the base of his phallus and surrounded his balls. She brushed her soft cheeks against his penis, nudged it with her forehead, nose, and chin, then bowed her head so that her long, lustrous hair lashed across his thighs and groin. Then her puckered lips moved up and down his throbbing shaft, nipping the tip with playful pecks, stimulating his hefty shank with lingering kisses.
Melinda spared him the exquisite torture of prolonged foreplay and opened her mouth to extend her sweet, luscious tongue. Like a serpent, it flicked and jabbed the head of Tim's penis, then swirled around it as if it were a delectable candy cane. Melinda's drooling tongue started at the tip of his cock and glided down the long stalk of his taut muscle, skimmed the scrotum and testicles, and delved even further to his anus. She rolled her wet tongue in his warm orifice, sending shivers of unexpected delight throughout his body, darting in and out of his constricted asshole until he moaned with delirious ecstasy. Then Melinda's bold tongue licked its way back up his bone-hard manhood, thoroughly coating it with her glistening saliva.
Closing her fist around his swollen meat, Melinda shoved Tim's cock into her gaping mouth. Pumping his prick with her hand, she worked her red, bloated lips up and down his slick dick, sucking him off in deep, devouring strokes, jerking her head back and forth, savoring every scrumptious inch of his sex.
Tim closed his eyes and clutched the bedspread, for such was the overwhelming pleasure from Melinda's oral gratification. Struggling to sustain his rigidity and forestall the inevitable climax, he tried desperately to think of something else, anything to distract him, but it was hopeless. His mind could not escape the wondrously erotic reality of having this beautiful young woman submit to him in such an uninhibited manner, kneeling between his legs like a servant of lust, stuffing his penis down her smooth, sultry throat.
Writhing with unbearable ecstasy, Tim reached down and held Melinda's bobbing head in his hands, holding it firmly as he lifted his hips off the bed, forcing his cock in and out of her gorgeous mouth. Panting with animal lust, he fucked her face in swift thrusts until he felt a geyser of creamy, hot cum surging from the pit of his sac to the barrel of his pistol. He came gasping and flinching, firing his frothy load into Melinda's gulping gullet. She swallowed his semen as fast as she could and licked the rest as he kept on spurting, making sure she consumed every delectable drop.
"Oh-h-h," groaned Tim, touching her cheek with a trembling hand. "That was so good."
"That," Melinda promised, "was only the beginning."
She kicked off her high-heel shoes and like a cat, crept onto the bed, crawling over his helpless body. "How about a midnight snack?" she purred.
"Sure," Tim played along. "What's on the menu?"
Melinda knelt with her legs straddling his head, her stockinged thighs brushing against his cheeks and her luscious cunt hovering over his face. "Me," she replied, lowering her pussy onto his parted lips.
Tim's tongue proved as talented as Melinda's, penetrating the pouting, pink lips of her gash and delving deep into the tangy, torrid recesses of her vagina, lapping the hearty juices that seeped from her succulent snatch. As he poked, prodded and gnawed her clit, Tim groped as much of Melinda's soft, silky skin as he could get his hands on, palming her firm buttocks, kneading the tender flesh that spanned her waist, belly and inner thighs, tugging on her garter straps, extending his fingers beneath her stockings to stroke the back of her thighs.
Melinda sighed and moaned, swivelling her hips from side to side as her lover ate pussy with a seemingly insatiable appetite. She took his roaming hands and placed them on her heaving breasts, holding them there against her bosom while she enjoyed the pleasures of his tantalizing tongue.
Glancing over her shoulder, Melinda was pleased to notice that Tim's cock was still hard and handy, for she planned to put it to good use before the night was over. She savored several more licks of her clit, then withdrew her cunt from his saturated mouth.
"Was that the main course or merely an appetizer?" asked Tim, sitting up.
Melinda kissed his lips and got a taste of herself. "Baby," she cooed, "we're going to have a feast."
It was just what Tim wanted to hear. He took her into his passionate embrace and they rolled across the wide bed. Brushing the hair from her eyes, Tim stared at her lovely face, reluctant happiness and lingering doubt apparent in his expression. "I haven't felt like this in a long time," he confessed.
"I've never felt like this at all," Melinda replied. "I know I'm in love."
"Are you sure? Perhaps it's just gratitude. Many actresses become infatuated with their directors. It's just a temporary fixation. It doesn't last."
"This will last," said Melinda confidently. "We'll make it last."
"You have a wonderful future ahead of you, Melinda," Tim happily predicted.
"We have a wonderful future ahead of us," Melinda corrected.
"You're going to be a star. Your life will change. You'll grow."
"We'll grow together."
"Don't you want to be free?"
"I've already won my freedom," Melinda maintained. "Now I want to belong to someone. I want to belong to you."
"You want so much," Tim mused. "And I have so little to offer."
Melinda reached down and touched his cock. "You've got everything a girl could ask for."
Tim smiled and kissed her tenderly.
"No more words tonight," Melinda proposed restlessly. "Let's let our bodies express our feelings.
I want you to sodomize me."
She could tell her request aroused him, yet Tim hesitated. "Are you sure?" he asked.
Melinda put it more bluntly. "I want you to fuck my ass."
She rolled over on her belly and tucked a pair of pillows under her crotch, propping up her buttocks and spreading her stockinged legs. Tim was so tempted by the sight of her gaping anus that he immediately covered her plump ass with kisses and thoroughly lubricated her hole with his licking tongue. Then clutching the waistband of her garter belt, he drove his spike deep into her open orifice.
Melinda cried out in pain and pleasure as he repeatedly battered her butt, harpooning her with all the brutal passion she so desperately desired. Unrestrained, Tim asserted his manhood with the authority and conviction Melinda had craved, proving he truly loved her, so much so that he wasn't afraid to hurt her, taking what now belonged to him alone.
"Harder! Harder!" begged Melinda, shredding the sheets with her clawing nails. "Really rip me!
Oh, yeah! Yeah! Fuck me! Fuck me! I want you to come in my ass!"
"No," Tim whispered in her ear, bending over and squeezing her in a bear hug. "I'll fuck your ass," he assured her, humping her buns to his heart's delight, "but I want to come in your cunt."
"Then, do it!" gasped Melinda. "Fuck me any way you want! Just give it to me good! Fuck me hard and fast! Fuck me like you've never fucked anyone before! Oh, I'm so hot for you, baby! So damn hot!"
Tim took a few more stabs before he withdrew from Melinda's anus and turned her over. He spread her legs as wide as they would bend and gazed hungrily at her scintillating slit. She aroused lust in him unlike any he had known before. He had revered his wife, placing her on a pedestal from which he viewed her as a cherished spouse instead of a passionate lover. It was different with Melinda. In her, he had a mistress as well as a beloved companion, a classy lady by his side and a whore in bed. She had a duality of character he found both alluring and intriguing. What more could a man ask for?
Melinda guided Tim's throbbing beef stick into the burning bowels of her hot pussy, hissing with exquisite pleasure as he smoothly filled her to the core. Her blood raced with desire, heat seething from every pore. Her eager hands reached up to grasp his shoulders and pulled him down upon her. Their open mouths sucked each other, their tongues thrashing in a desperate kiss.
His lean but sinewy body entwined with hers as he drove his solid manhood in and out of her excitable womb. His lips pressed against her lips, his broad chest brushed her nipples, his belly rubbed against her belly, and his hips pounded her inner thighs. They became as one in a numbing embrace and clung to each other in a tempest of erotic emotion.
Unlocking their arms, the lovers slowed the pace, determined to prolong the consummation and make a very good thing last. Tim propped himself up on one arm and caressed Melinda with a loving hand, touching her face, fondling her willowy limbs, grasping her supple breasts and pinching her nipples.
Tears of joy and rapture streamed from Melinda's eyes and streaked her cheeks. "Oh, Tim!" she cried. "It feels so good! It feels so very good! Is it as good for you?"
"The best," he moaned, licking her salty tears and sinking his teeth into her shoulder as he plowed her pussy.
"I wish you could fuck me all night long," said Melinda, raking his back with her nails.
"If that's what you want, baby, that's what I'll do," vowed Tim. "We're going to ball until you beg for mercy."
"I'll never beg for mercy," Melinda swore. "I'll only beg for more!"
Accepting her challenge, Tim held her ass firmly in his two hands and banged her with all the brute force he could unleash. Melinda responded like a wildcat, winding her long, stockinged legs around his waist and clawing the scruff of his neck. The room was filled with the sounds of passion-the clamor of the headboard rattling against the wall, the repeated thud of flesh slamming flesh, the grunts and groans of human beasts in savage and unrelenting fornication.
As Tim rammed his rod to the hilt, Melinda dug her nails deep into his shoulder blades, drawing a pinch of blood. Reacting, Tim seized her wrists and pinned them to the bed above her head. The hint of domination excited Tim as he had never been excited before and as he restrained Melinda, he walloped her womb with harder, stiffer, faster thrusts of his prodding stick.
"A-a-a-h-h-h! A-a-a-h-h-h!" Melinda wailed, not caring who heard her, swept away in a cyclone of erotic ecstasy. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Fuck me! Fuck me! Do it! Do it! More! More!" she chanted hysterically, grinding and grinding her pelvis to the steady assault of his gyrating hips.
Tim rode her as if she were a champion mount and he a jockey snug in the saddle, always in command. For all her bucking, she couldn't throw him, tamed by his taut, tough whip. Tim forced her to stay the course, sliding back and forth, in and out, guiding her toward the finish line.
Tim prolonged his pounding penetration for the longest time, until Melinda's vagina was as raw as red meat. He lunged into her again and again, flaunting his incredible stamina, astonishing her with his prowess, his muscles and flesh and sturdy limbs crashing into her like waves against the shore, her clitoris blistering with a desire that never seemed to reach its peak, the agnozing pleasure mounting and mounting in endless excitation.
"Oh! I can't take it! I can't take it anymore!" Melinda finally shouted, thrashing and writhing, resisting his iron grip in an effort to slash his skin with her claws. "Make me come! Please! Make me come!"
But every time he came close to satisfying Melinda, Tim would refrain just a bit, just enough to keep her dangling on the edge of total ecstasy. "Not yet, my love," he whispered in her ear.
"Oh, please! Please, Tim!" she begged. "Can't stand it! I'm so close! So close! Oh! Oh! I'm going to die if I don't come soon!"
"Patience, darling," he softly replied, slowing the pace to a leisurely grind, releasing her wrists. "Make it last, baby. Make it last."
Melinda reached up and spread her fingers on his chest. "Oh, I want to," she moaned. "I really do. I want it to go on forever. But I've got to come! Make me come! I'm begging, baby! Fuck me and make me come!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down upon her. Their lips met in a deep, smothering kiss.
Rising again, Tim smiled at Melinda. "Trust me," he said. "I'll make it so good for you, you'll never have it quite as good again."
He then abruptly withdrew, his stiff dick yanking itself free of Melinda's swollen cunt. She whimpered anxiously, an expression of dread and disappointment paling her face. But Tim put her fears to rest as he merely got up and stood at the foot of the bed, took hold of her ankles and dragged her body toward him until her ass reached the edge of the mattress. Clutching the calves of her stockinged legs, he hoisted them straight up until they rested against his chest and her furry snatch was poised an inch from the tip of his prick. He impaled her pussy with one swift thrust, driving his screw back into her hot, horny hole until he was buried to the balls inside of her and Melinda grunted like a sow.
His two feet planted firmly on the floor, Tim was able to jerk his pelvis as fast and as hard as he wished, force-fucking sweet Melinda to her cunt's delight. While he plugged her pussy, Tim ran his hands up and down her legs, stroking her thighs above and below her nylon hose, caressing the curves of her calves. Melinda moaned blissfully and rolled her head from side to side, her arms laying limply by her side.
Tim then unhooked her garter straps one at a time and snapped them against her belly. When all four were loosened, he reached down and grasped the front of the garter belt in his tight fist. With one quick, brutal tug, he stripped her of the intimate garment, tearing the hooks from their stitches, and hurled the sling of black lace over his shoulder. Melinda shuddered in escalating ecstasy and sustained another series of grinding thrusts to her cunt.
Tim had but to glance down to see his splendid stud dick split Melinda's slit and slide deep into her snug, slutty snatch. He thrilled to the touch of her nylons and flesh, the fragrant aroma of her saturated pussy, the wounded but grateful expression on her face as he skewered her sweetmeat. It was all too much to bear indefinitely. As Melinda arched her spine and heaved her naked breasts, he secured them in his grasp, fondled and squeezed them until she covered his hands with her own and pleaded for mercy.
"Oh, now! Now!" Melinda hoarsely implored. "Give it to me now!"
Tim leaned forward, Melinda's leg falling to the side, spreading wide. He bore down on her like a rig drilling for crude oil, digging deeper and deeper, harder and faster. They wrestled in an absolute frenzy, plundering each other's bodies for the ultimate of pleasures, getting closer and closer to the moment of triumph.
"Uh! ... Uh!" Tim grunted through clenched teeth, his battering ram fit to burst. "Oh, Melinda!" he gasped. "I-I-love you!"
"I love you, too!" she cried, shivering from head to toe with the glorious realization.
Reaching the summit of physical and emotional ecstasy at precisely the same moment, the impassioned lovers came in each other's trembling embrace. Their senses seemed to shatter into a million pieces as Tim's embedded cock filled Melinda's cunt with a rush of creamy cum which she gladly absorbed, her eyes shedding tears of sumptuous joy.
The magic lingered long after their weary bodies had finished with one another and Tim and Melinda basked in the warm afterglow of their first encounter. They relaxed in each other's arms but were unable to sleep. The light of day appeared through the window and with it dawned the realization that they were different people from the ones they were yesterday.
"Good morning," said Melinda, kissing Tim's cheek.
"It is, isn't it," he smiled. "I ought to be exhausted, but I feel great."
"So do I," sighed Melinda.
"I could use some breakfast, though. I wonder if the kitchen is open yet. I'll try room service," he said, reaching for the phone.
But Melinda caught his hand and pressed it to her breast. "I am room service," she playfully cooed. "Remember?'
"It slipped my memory," Tim laughed, kissing her.
"I have the perfect recipe for breakfast in bed," Melinda murmured, fondling his genitals. "How about some hot cakes and sausage?" she suggestively purred. "You can have my hot cakes and I'll eat your sausage.";
"Mmm," Tim played along. "Sounds yummy."
"Oh, I am. I mean ... it is."
Tim put his hand on her face and pushed her away. Melinda rolled across the bed, laughing. "You've got a filthy mind," Tim kidded.
"And a filthy body," Melinda remarked. "Care to share a shower?"
"Too lazy," Tim procrastinated. "I'll take one later."
Melinda slowly and sensuously rolled down her stockings under Tim's watchful eye. "Are you sure?"
Titillated, he gulped and replied, "On second thought...."
They stood beneath the steamy spray and cleansed their grimy bodies, scrubbing each other with soapy hands. Melinda lathered Tim's chest and watched as the creamy suds trickled down his belly and into his groin where his limp cock seemed in need of attention. Her soapy fingers slid back and forth over his drooping dick and restored it to full growth. Revived, his prick pointed straight up, ready for whatever Melinda had in mind.
She knelt before him in the tub and closed her mouth around Tim's rigid rod. While jets of hot water needled her flesh, Melinda massaged his balls and hungrily sucked his cock. Tim closed his eyes, leaned back against the blue tile wall and enjoyed the sensation as the relentless shower pelted his body. This time, he took his pleasure quickly, dousing Melinda with his spurting seed which was immediately washed away with the suds and grime.
Grasping Melinda by the shoulders, Tim lifted her up and forced her into the corner of the tub. He then applied soap to a soft sponge and lathered Melinda's tits. Frothy bubbles streaked her bulbous mounds of slick, supple flesh, dripping from the protruding tips of her nipples. He squeezed the sponge between Melinda's breasts and a stream of foam poured down her torso, overflowing her navel and into the wet bush of pubic hair that flourished around the lips of her cunt.
Her back wedged into the corner, Melinda spread her legs and offered him her pink, gaping slit, practically begging Tim to scrub her crotch. Soapy sponge in hand, he scoured her snatch, stuffing the absorbent wad into her womb and swabbing her clit. The sizzling sound of the shower drowned out Melinda's moans of renewed ecstasy.
Leaning forward, Tim pinched one nipple and licked the other while he rubbed Melinda's tingling twat. It was more than she could endure and with a shudder she seized his wet head and pressed her lips against his. She was grinding against the sponge, trembling all over, grunting and groaning as if slowly tormented, when in fact she was closer than ever to the most exquisite of pleasures.
Tim dropped the sponge and reached up to remove the detachable shower nozzle. He set its adjustable spray to the pulsating massage flow and riddled Melinda's body with its stinging, hot spurts. She hissed as if scorched, but obviously loving every blast that splashed against her, soothing and tantalizing her yearning flesh. Tim then directed his shots at the white foam that oozed from Melinda's seeping orifice.
"Oh-h-h! Oh-h-h!" cried Melinda, her fingernails clawing the tile walls. The rapid fire of hot water pounding her pussy ignited a short fuse that brought her to the edge of erotic madness. Melinda reached down and pried open her burning gash, exposing her swollen clitoris.
Tim shoved the nozzle between her legs and pressed it right against her cunt. Melinda held it there and even tried to fit it into her vagina, but had to settle for mere clitorial contact. She stroked the shower massage's long, metallic hose as if fondling a serpentine phallus, writhing and squirming like a worm on a hook.
Then with a series of breathless huffs and spasms, Melinda sustained a mild but satisfying orgasm, slowly crumbling against the wall, sinking to her knees. Smiling at his own kinky-ingenuity, Tim replaced the nozzle and turned off the shower.
When Melinda regained her strength, Tim helped her out of the tub and they shared a towel in drying each other off. Then, while she was busy blow-drying her wet hair, he left the bathroom and returned to the bed where he placed an early morning phone call.
"Hello, this is Mr. Rader," Tim quietly declared into the receiver, hoping Melinda wouldn't hear him. "I have a first-class reservation on Flight 511 to Los Angeles, leaving today from Kennedy airport. I was wondering if I could reserve another seat for the same flight ... Yes, that's right ... Fine, I'll hold on."
While he waited for a response, Tim watched Melinda as she stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror, the blowdryer in her hand, her blonde hair floating on a stream of warm air.
"Yes?" he said as the airline representative returned to the line. "Wonderful. We'll be there by noon. Thank you."
Tim hung up just as Melinda turned off the dryer. While she brushed her hair, he got up and started packing his suitcase. Melinda glanced into the room, noticed what he was doing and laid down the brush.
"Going somewhere?" she asked in a cautiously curious tone of voice.
"I'm leaving for L.A. today," he casually replied.
"Oh?" said Melinda. "I didn't know you intended to leave today."
"Well, my work is finished here. I have no reason to stay."
Melinda crossed her arms and hugged herself, shivering with uncertaintly. "I was hoping...."
"Yes?" Tim turned around to face her.
Melinda smiled faintly and shrugged. "I don't know. I was just hoping you'd stay a little longer."
"Can't. Too much work. I have to edit the film, show it off to the studio."
"Of course," Melinda conceded, trying to be as understanding as possible, holding back the tears. "Well," she gulped, crawling under the bedsheets. "I ... I guess it's for the best."
She didn't say another word and neither did Tim until he finally finished packing. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and regarded her with a quizzical expression. "What are you doing in bed?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be getting dressed and ready for the flight?"
Melinda stared at him. "Huh?"
"We have a plane to catch in a few hours."
"You mean ... I'm going with you?"
"I should hope so," said Tim with a haughty laugh. "You wouldn't be of much use to me here in New York. Besides, after last night, you have to make an honest man out of me."
"Why, you...." Melinda belted him with a pillow. Howling with laughter, Tim warded off her blows, grabbed her wrists and pinned her flat on her back.
He pacified her with a kiss and murmured, "You're beautiful when you're angry."
"What time does the plane leave?" asked Melinda.
"Noon."
"That gives us another hour or two."
"You can't be serious," scoffed Tim, releasing her.
Melinda flashed a naughty smile. "Judging by that bulge against my thigh, you are!"
Tim glanced down and sure enough, his pecker was as stiff as a board once again. "Imagine that," he muttered.
Melinda kicked off the sheets and spread her legs. "Shut up and fuck me, you insatiable stud," she demanded.
In spite of all that had transpired between them in a relatively few hours, Melinda's cunt was as smooth as butter and Tim's cock plunged like a knife into its warm, tender depths. Melinda folded her arms across his back and pressed his chest against her bosom. She could feel his heart pounding faster and faster as he swiftly entered and reentered her. Then she could feel her own heart beating fiercely in her breast, throbbing in perfect rhythm with Tim's. It was as if they had become one heart and Melinda never felt closer to another human being in her life.
Despite their mounting passion, it was a time of gentle loving. Tim's lips showered her with kisses, his hands caressing every reachable part of her, his limbs becoming entwined with hers, his burning prick nestled deep in her womb of desire.
So engrossed were they in their act of wanton lust that neither of them heard the faint knock at the door, nor the sound of a key inserted in the lock. Unaware of their presence, a young chambermaid entered the room, her arm bearing a fresh supply of towels. She was half-way to the bathroom when she suddenly noticed them on the bed and froze in her tracks. The young woman was so startled that she could neither speak nor move, too embarrassed by her carelessness to betray her presence or discreetly leave. Instead, she simply stood and stared and soon found herself more fascinated than ashamed of what she saw.
Oblivious to the silent intruder, Tim went right on fucking, but when Melinda opened her eyes and peered over his shoulder, she spotted the girl watching them. She chose not to say anything, knowing that to interrupt their lovemaking would spoil a truly enjoyable experience. For Melinda there was nothing to be ashamed of. What they were doing was beautiful and she didn't care if the whole world saw it. She was not at all shocked or intimidated by the stranger. The harmless young woman was an audience of one and Melinda loved to play to an audience, even under intimate circumstances. There was something titillating about it and Melinda mockingly stared back at the young woman while winding her legs around Tim's waist and crossing her ankles over his galloping buttocks.
Eventually, the chambermaid turned away and quietly fled, closing the door behind her. With a triumphant smile, Melinda embraced her man, stroking the back of his head as he sucked her tits.
Suddenly the phone rang, but Tim was not to be distracted from his tantalizing task. He went right on making love to Melinda, ignoring the incessant shrill.
"Aren't you going to answer it?" asked Melinda.
"No," Tim emphatically replied. "But it may be important."
"Nothing's as important as getting laid," Tim firmly concluded and then proceeded to prove it to Melinda.
