As a model for Anderson Studios, Melissa Stanton considered it her duty to cater to the whims of the client. However, the man she was now facing was demanding a lot more. He was staring at her with bold eyes and demanding to fuck her.
Melissa was bewildered by his attitude becausehe was so nice when she came to his office to model the clothing that he was supposed to be buying. She didn't know how to answer his demand.
"Well, get 'em off," he demanded again. "I can't fuck you if you've got your pussy all wrapped up in pretty ruffles."
Melissa stammered. "Take my pants off? You can't mean that!"
He chuckled. "Of course I mean it. I can't very well stick my cock into your cunt unless you lay down and spread your legs."
"I . . . I . . ." she stuttered.
"What's the problem, baby? You think I don't have the money?" He pulled a fat wallet from his pocket, extracted a number of bills from it. He offered them to Melissa. "How much? Two hundred enough?"
Melissa was dumfounded. Two hundred dollars! The man was actually offering two hundred dollars to fuck her. It was an awful lot of money. It was the exact amount that Martin needed to pay his gambling debt to the men at the Central Valley Country Club. She could get it for him and all she had to do was lie down and let this man fuck her. They could certainly use the money and Martin wouldn't have to know. He would be very pleased when he learned she had earned that much for him.
"Two hundred dollars!" she stammered. "You..."
"All right, three hundred," the man said, interrupting her. "Not a dime more, baby. No cunt is worth over three hundred."
"In cash?" Melissa asked.
"Three big ones, baby." He held the money out to her.
Melissa stared at the bills. She reached for them, blindly, thinking only of the three bills, not what she had to do for them. Martin wouldn't know she had let this man fuck her cunt because she wouldn't tell anyone and she was certain the man couldn't. He didn't know who she was.
Melissa felt a sense of excitement now that she had accepted the money. How could it be so bad to do what the man was asking? Sex was supposed to be the new in thing for the social whirl. She had read articles on wife-swapping, communal sex, group sex and other forms of extramarital sex that was part of the new morality. One of her neighbors had even worked in a massage parlor for a week and had enjoyed fucking and sucking the customers.
She said, "I'll do it."
The man pointed to a door across the room. "Take your clothes off," he told her. "You can do whatever you have to do in there."
She said thanks and went through the door, instantly relieved to find herself in a washroom. The man understood women. She liked that. It would make it so much easier to do what she had to do.
When she came back out of the washroom, she was naked. The man beamed when he saw her and she realized, with a bit of a shock, that he too, was naked. He was standing beside the couch, waiting for her to join him.
He stared at her as she moved toward him and she could feel his gaze crawling up her body; starting at her feet, then moving slowly up her legs, pausing for a moment to peer at her cunt, then moving on up to her tits. She could see his eyes shift from her right tit to the left, then go back down to the black hair surrounding her pussy. Then his gaze shifted to her face.
"You are a beautiful woman," he said. "Mark was right when he said you were one of his best girls."
Mark was the man who ran the agency. The girls called him Mr. Anderson. Melissa didn't know that she was considered one of his best girls. He had never mentioned that fact to her.
"I'll have to thank him," she said.
"I'll do it for you," he said with a grin. "We're having dinner together this evening. It would be nice if you could join us."
She thought about it for a brief moment, then shook her head. Martin would be mad as hell. "I couldn't," she said quickly. "I have other things I have to do."
He scratched his stomach, then the hair around his prick. His cock was beginning to inflate. It hung slightly forward and was stretching down, growing longer at the same time that it was getting bigger. She stared at his cock for a moment in disbelief. His prick was so large that she wondered if she would be able to fuck it.
He motioned to the couch and she found herself moving to it, still staring at his immense cock. His prick drooped at an angle and the tip of it looked so large she was becoming a little frightened. It must have shown on her face.
"Don't get uptight," the man said. "When I get through kissing you and playing with your cunt, it will be just the right size."
She forced her gaze away from the monstrous cock. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean...
He interrupted her. "No sweat," he said with a broad grin. "All the girls are surprised, at first."
She sat down on the black leather couch, then swiveled around so she could stretch out flat. The couch was very soft and her panic diminished.
He stood beside the couch looking down at her, then he knelt and kissed her on the stomach. The touch of his lips made her tremble and he laughed.
"The women all do that," he stated.
Then, he was nuzzling her tits, licking around the taut red nipples, dragging his tongue over them as if savoring every inch of her tits. After that, he kissed her on the lips and pulled gently on her earlobes. That made her tinge all over and little sensations went crawling down across her body to the mouth of her cunt. He could do what he wanted to do and in so doing, might float her away on a wave of pleasure.
She heard him say, "I'm going to suck your cunt." There was pressure on her legs as he spread them so he could reach the soft folds of cuntflesh he wanted to explore.
A twinge of ecstasy shot through her as his tongue licked her clitoris, rubbing the tender flesh. It was like nothing she had ever felt before and she loved it.
After a moment, he moved down to her smooth thighs, lapping his tongue over the sensitive skin, then moving back to her cunt, licking around it, teasing the flesh, then nibbling tenderly in her pussy. Her nerves were beginning to tighten and another tremor swept her body. She was becoming hot and she knew that she wanted this man to fuck her. Wanted him to fuck her more than she wanted anything else in life.
She moaned, "Oh Jesus!"
The man stopped licking her pussy.
"Are you okay?" he inquired.
She raised her head so she could see him.
"You're making me awful hot."
"Then maybe we better get on to the main attraction."
He crawled onto the couch, positioned himself between her legs, arching over her, holding himself up with one arm while guiding his cock toward the opening of her cunt. It looked like a gigantic Italian sausage and for a moment she felt panic. Suppose he couldn't get it into her, she thought. Then he would be mad and want his money back. He had to get it in.
There was pressure on her cunt, a quick jab and the huge shaft slid into the confines of her tight pussy. For a moment she felt as if she had been blown up down there; like some monstrous balloon had been forced inside of her cunt. Then he began to work his cock in and out and it felt good. Every inch of her cunt was being rubbed. This was something new, a new way of being fucked and she was loving it. "Oh Jesus, Martin," she murmured. "Why can't you fuck like this?"
"How about it, baby? You like being fucked like this?"
"It's marvelous," she managed to whisper. "My cunt never felt so good. Please do it faster. Do it real fast for a little while."
He increased his rhythm until the plunging shaft of his cock was pushing against the end of her cunt. At every thrust, an explosion of pleasure rocked her body.
"It's such a beautiful cock," she heard herself saying. "A gorgeous, marvelous cock. I love the way it hurts me. Oh God, fuck me harder!"
The man was fucking so fast that he was beginning to pant. He paused, staring down into her face. "Let's not do it all in thirty seconds, baby. Fucking like this should last a long time."
She knew that he was right. To hasten the climax would be to spoil part of the fun. It would never do to limit such action or the pleasure of being fucked by such a superb cock.
She said, "Then suck my pussy some more."
He did. For the next twenty minutes he lapped her cunt, licked the skin on her stomach, kissed her tits and tweaked her nipples.
She closed her eyes, permitting her mind to dwell on each sensation, the soft tongue on the skin of her groin, the soft brush of his lips on her nub, then the touch of his hard cock as he thrust it into her hot slippery cunt. Then he was fucking her again and she wanted to cry out because it felt so good and she was so happy.
But it had to end.
She felt the sudden jerk as his prick flared, the last stabbing plunge as the ejaculation came and hot semen flowed into her cunt.
He was whispering in her ear. "You are a real hot fuck, baby. A real good fuck. Worth every bit of three hundred. We'll have to fuck again some time, real soon."
Then it was over with and she crawled from the couch and hurried into the washroom to clean herself and dress. When she came out, he had dressed and gone. There was nothing more for her to do but leave. She hurried out of the room. The people in the waiting room, the clerks at their desks, gave her only a casual glance, then turned back to their work. No one knew that she, Melissa Stanton, had for the first time in her life, permitted a man to fuck her for money and that she had actually enjoyed it.
Chapter Two
The advertisement in the paper that Melissa had answered had been so simple. It had asked for young women to serve as fashion models and had given no indication that it might be a cover for prostitutes or call girls.
After five years of marriage, Melissa was bored and decided to give it a try. She considered herself attractive, had a good figure and could work part time. The additional money would come in handy since Martin wanted to buy a membership in the Central Valley Country Club.
She had called for an appointment. When she went to see the party, she discovered it was an agency that supplied models for various stores and organizations for fashion shows.
"It's for the buyer who wants to see how his purchases look on a model," the owner had explained. "It has a lot of possibilities, depending on the girl."
The first few assignments had been interesting and rewarding, requiring only for her to wear attractive clothing and walk around in the store's show rooms, while prospective buyers viewed the garments. For this, she received ten dollars an hour. After the fifth assignment, she decided it was a lot of fun and signed on as a regular model. Later, when she read her copy of the contract, she noted that it contained a statement that she wouldn't object to nudity when it was required. At first, she had been displeased, then when she thought about it later, she had to laugh. How could modeling clothing ever require nudity? Peek-a-boo blouses were cute and she didn't mind modeling them. The same with the short shorts.
Melissa thought about her job as she drove home that afternoon. It was almost five-thirty and she had to have dinner ready when Martin arrived at six.
She swung by the Kentucky Fried Chicken store and ordered a dinner for two. After dinner, she decided to tell Martin about the money and she was sure he would understand.
At seven o'clock he hadn't arrived. She had taken a shower, put on fresh undergarments and a thin frock. She could dress, later, if Martin wanted to go out for the evening. Being Friday, he might want to go to a topless club or see a porno movie. That always turned him on, then they would come home and fuck like crazy.
But he didn't come home. She tried to become interested in television, but gave up at eleven-thirty and went to bed.
At twelve-fifty, she heard his car in the driveway and the slamming doors as he locked it up for the night. She was certain that he was drunk.
Mark Anderson gave her a beaming smile when she went in on Monday afternoon for an assignment.
"Mr. Sandino was quite pleased with you."
"That's nice," she replied, then suddenly realized she didn't know a Mr. Sandino.
"He said you two got along real well."
Anderson searched through his request cards, and picked one from the box. "He wants another session sometime."
"But I don't know any Mr. Sandino."
Anderson chuckled and gave her a knowing look.
"He probably told you to call him Chet. He's like that. Very informal."
"I don't know any Chet," Melissa said.
Anderson tapped the request card against his finger. "Friday," he said, to refresh her memory. "You modeled for him at Summer Fashions. He said you had a beautiful figure and he was completely satisfied."
A pink flush began to mount Melissa's cheeks. Summer Fashions! Oh God! That's who he was. The man with the three hundred dollars! She hadn't asked his name because he hadn't given her time.
"Mr. Sandino was very nice," she stated nervously.
"He wants you again for an Easter showing," Mark continued. "I told him you would be available any time he wanted."
She was certain now that his grin had become a lecherous leer and the way he was shifting his gaze up and down her body gave her the impression he was mentally undressing her.
Anderson was holding out the card.
"They want five girls at the Bermuda Palms. You pick up your costume from the manager, then mingle with the guests. They have some sort of party going on and Maginis wants some of their new spring line to be seen in public. If anyone asks for the label, say Maginis, but don't quote prices."
"Of course," Melissa said.
The Bermuda Palms was a large hotel, and many of the large stores held fashion shows there. Melissa parked her Mustang in the parking lot, noting the number of cars present. The lot was almost full and she anticipated a busy afternoon.
The clerk at the office desk directed her to the proper banquet room to pick up her dress. She was met outside the door by Jim Shelly, a Maginis employee.
"There are some wealthy buyers in there," he stated. "If they like what they see, it could mean a lot of business for Maginis clothing."
His smile implied a great deal more than his words.
She found herself putting a second meaning to his statement and was uneasy because of the uncertainty. What would they see? She had always worn clothing with a flair and tried to give her best to her assignments. If she could make a gown look sexier by widening the cleavage, or shortening a skirt to show more leg, she did it. She liked the stares that men gave her when they could see the outline of her breasts and the darker shadows of her nipples.
A young blonde woman paused in the process of applying eye shadow, turned from the mirror of the vanity she was using. She gave Melissa a wan smile, then turned back to her makeup.
Melissa viewed her shining long hair, noticed the back of the supple figure and returned the smile. She knew she had seen the girl before, possibly had worked with her but didn't know where.
"Looks interesting," she said, for sake of conversation. "Large crowd."
The blonde peered at her from the mirror reflection.
"A bunch of real studs," she said. "Ml they are talking about is drinking booze and fucking, mostly fucking.'
Melissa frowned, shifted her gaze away, to keep from showing her startled confusion.
The blonde failed to notice her reaction. She finished her makeup, rose from the vanity. She picked up her bag.
"Nice to see you again. Stanton, isn't it?" Melissa nodded. "It's Melissa-Melissa Stanton." The blonde studied her. "Always did like your peaches-and-cream complexion. It goes so well with short skirts and bathing suits."
"Thanks."
"Watch those cocksmen out there, honey. I've worked some of them before. If they can get a finger into your cunt, you'll be in bed before you know it."
Melissa frowned. "If they do what?"
The blonde moved toward the door. "Never mind, honey. Just don't believe everything they tell you."
"Thanks. I'll be careful."
The blonde scrutinized herself in the mirror, then turned abruptly and left the room, leaving Melissa to decide which items she wanted to wear of the garments that had been put out for her.
She chose a halter top and a very short skirt. To make the top fit tighter, she drew the center in by pleating and pinning the band, then shortened the straps which went over the shoulders, to pull the bodice up, tightening up around her tits and clinging to every curve. The pressure made her tits look firm and round. She shortened the skirt by turning down the waist on the inside and pulling it up to fit.
She was thinking of Martin as she entered the banquet room to have her first look at the guests. She was still feeling a bit guilty for her treatment of him. He had been rather reserved Saturday and Sunday, saying very little and spending most of his time in the garage working on his boat. He had purchased it last year when he received his bonus and was in the process of remodeling it. That, also, was a very expensive project and she suspected that the cost of it might have been one reason for his taking up gambling. He had wanted to acquire the money he needed but, instead, had spent more.
Other girls were moving among the guests, pausing to talk, conversing gaily, passing banter and answering questions. The words of the blonde flashed through her mind: "Watch out for the studs; if they get one finger into your cunt, you'll find yourself in bed before you know it." She could feel them appraising her, viewing her body as if already deciding to fuck her.
She intended to give them all a very firm NO.
"Well, well. What have we here?"
It was a man's voice. Strong, firm. She liked the sound of it. Then she found herself looking into a pair of brilliant blue eyes. The face below the eyes was creased in a pleased smile, and the instant she turned to face him, his gaze centered on her pussy. It clung there for a moment, then he said, "That's a very appealing outfit."
"I'm Melissa Stanton."
His eyes shifted to her face. "Yes, I know."
She didn't know him, couldn't remember ever having seen him before.
"I'm afraid you have me," she said, a bit puzzled.
"No, but I want you," he retorted and his smile turned to a broad grin that displayed nice even white teeth.
He was eyeing her skirt again and his face beamed with pleasure.
"How about a drink?" he asked.
A drink would be nice, she thought. She gazed hopefully toward the bar. She shook her head in the negative.
"Sorry. I don't think I should. I'm supposed to mingle with the customers."
"I'm a customer. We can mingle at the bar." He grasped her arm and propelled her toward the bar.
Then they were standing near the crowded bar. She had a martini and he was drinking bourbon and water. The first order disappeared in long, quick sips while conversation got underway.
"I'm Roger Queen," he told her as an introduction. "This standing up for a drink is for the birds."
She agreed that it was.
"How about going over to my room and have something good brought in?"
"Me? Go to your room?"
Perhaps she should think about it. She was certain she was being propositioned, but he was so charming and it would be a nice way of getting away from the crowd. Already, many of the men looked drunk.
"I'm sure I shouldn't," she began. "My boss would be displeased if I don't . ."
"Never mind your boss," Roger said, cutting her off. "I'll take care of Mr. Anderson."
"But I'm supposed to..."
"I know what you're supposed to do," he said, interrupting again. "I'll take care of that too."
He led her out, across the banquet room, through a side entrance and along a walk that led past a row of motel units that fronted a swimming pool.
She went along, completely aware that he was a stranger to her; but she trusted him. He seemed so nice.
His room was large. There was a color television set and a large bed. He mixed drinks and they sat and talked and watched a group of men showing off for a young woman in a string bikini.
It was interesting and enjoyable until suddenly Melissa discovered they were talking about sex and he was telling her that he felt it was the most beautiful and most pleasurable functions of the human body.
"Don't you think so?" he asked.
She thought his eyes were almost pleading so she said yes, then realized she had said the wrong thing. She had practically agreed that she loved fucking. Fucking with just anybody.
"I think you and I could make it even more beautiful," he said. His eyes were boring into the division of her halter, seeking the curves of her tits.
"Your tits look beautiful."
Then his gaze shifted back to the skirt and the amount of thigh that was exposed. The hem was almost back to her crotch and she was certain that he could see her bikini panties."I couldn't do that," she said in a forced voice. "Why not? Don't you like me?"
"I think you're nice." "But not nice enough to fuck."
"I didn't say that," she said quickly.
He looked rejected and she was sure she had hurt his feelings.
"I didn't mean that," she said again. "It's just that I have to sell
His eyes brightened and he looked happy again. "Whatever you have to sell, I'll buy." "Dresses." "Hundreds of them.""Now you're laughing at me." "Not at all. I'll give Maginis an order tonight." He took her glass, set it on the refrigerator. "Now suppose we get down to something really interesting."
She could see he meant what he was saying. He would buy a large order. All she had to do was to permit him to fuck her. And why not? He was such a handsome and charming person.
She said, "Whatever you say."
He grasped her hands and pulled her up from the chair, embraced her and kissed her on the lips. Then he pushed the straps of the halter from her shoulders. Her tits burst forth, released from the restraining fabric, looking amber and gold. He touched them almost timidly, then he began to fondle them.
"Your tits are even more beautiful than I imagined," he whispered. He bent and kissed them, then licked at the soft nubs of her nipples.
She loosened the waist of the skirt, pushed it down her body and stepped out of it. Then she released the zippers on the boots and cast them off. She stood before him, naked and lovely.
She sat down on the bed. "You undress, too," she said. "I want to watch."
He put his things in a neat pile on a chair.
Melissa was awed by her own feelings. She wanted to see this man naked; to view every part of him, to look at his prick and see what it was like before he stuck it into her cunt. She wanted to please this man, to be used by him and that surprised her.
The hair on his chest made him look so masculine, so animal-like, she wanted to be swept up by him and crushed to his body.
She liked the cock she was viewing. It would be heaven to be fucked by such a man and she wished that he would hurry and get on with it.
She settled back on the bed, lay quietly, waiting for him.
"Stick your cock into me before I change my mind." She heard the words, and. it sounded as if she was pleading.
She would remember it for the rest of her life, she told herself. It was so new, so exciting. She could feel his hot tongue dragging down across her flesh, sending twinges of pleasure from her tits to the ups of her cunt. He kissed her tits, licked around them, then worked his way down across her stomach to the area where the tuft of black hair sheltered the lips of her cunt. The closer he came to her pussy, the more she wanted to cry because it felt so good.
She spread her legs to give him freedom. Twinges of rapture darted through her.
"You'll love this, baby. I promise, you'll love it."
He was back licking her pussy and she wanted to understand what he was doing. It was easy to respond, to let him know she was a woman. The soft licking on her cunt made her quiver again and she giggled nervously.
He paused, peered up at her face. "Like it?" he asked.
She sighed happily. "I love it. It's absolutely wild."
Then he was between her legs again, licking her thighs, thrusting his tongue into her cunt, lapping the little nub that triggered all sensation. He flicked at her clitoris, lapping up the sweet cuntjuice that welled from her.
She raised her ass and moaned.
"Oh Jesus, I want to fuck! Please, let's fuck!"
He crawled up over her, supporting himself on one arm while he aimed his cock at her slippery cunt. She thrilled again at the touch of his prick, anticipating when he would thrust it into her. This is it. Finally, this is it. His cock is there and soon he'll be fucking me.
She could see the huge shaft of flesh aiming toward her pussy, rushing forward to force entry into her eager cunt. Then he was inside her, his stiff cock fucking her hot pussy.
She could feel his immense balls banging against the crack of her ass and the pressure he was exerting on her pussy was doing things to her.
How different this was from the way Martin always fucked her. His was a slight, wishy-washy, push-in pull-out routine that was very boring. Jesus, why couldn't he fuck like Roger!
She clenched her fists, straining to hold still so he could fuck her better. She was cooing, whispering words, blurting a passion she had never known before.
He was driving his cock into her begging cunt like a plunging piston. Then as the sensations began to build within her cunt, she swung her head back and forth, as if keeping time to his thrusting cock. Her arms encircled his neck, holding his head down while his ass rose and fell.
"It's good, Roger. It's so good. Push your cock real deep, honey. It hurts so good! I love the way you fuck! Do you hear me, Roger? I LOVE YOU FUCKING ME!"
She could hear him panting and could feel his hot breath on her cheek. He was fucking so fast that she couldn't keep track of his movement.
She really didn't care. He was fucking her and that was all that mattered. Do you realize that, Martin? I like the way Roger is fucking me! He sucked my cunt; he licked my tits! I wish now I could have sucked his cock! You know, Martin, I feel sorry for you! You don't even know what good fucking is!
She felt his body jerk as he ejaculated and after another hard thrust, he fell flat on her, limp and breathing hard. She rubbed his back, felt the soft skin of his ass, then reached down and stroked his balls. The soft hair gave her another sensation of pleasure and she realized that she had been missing so much.
Fucking was wonderful, she decided. It was also profitable. She realized now that she hadn't received any money from Roger for sharing her body, but somehow she didn't care. Fucking him had been so much fun that, if he should ask again, she would do it again, for nothing.
Chapter Three
It was four o'clock Monday afternoon when Melissa arrived home.
She would have to start dinner first, she decided. She would have to fix Martin something especially good. She could fix pot roast. Martin loved post roast.
She had just started cooking the roast when thephone rang. It was Anderson.
"I'm flabbergasted, Melissa!" he sang into her ear. "We have an order for the entire summer line and Maginis is so pleased they are licking my hand. How did you do it?"
"An order for the whole line? Me?"
"You did it, baby. You sold one of the best orders of the year. Queen put in an order for five dozen of everything. He especially wants the outfit you wore today. Boots, hose, halter-the whole bit. You made a hit, baby."
Melissa was astounded. She hadn't expected anything like this.
"I don't know what to say.
"Then don't say anything. Just keep up the good work."
"I'll try."
"Oh," Anderson said. "Be sure to see me in the morning. Queen left a nice tip for you. Five hundred dollars. You really got through to him, Melissa."
Melissa was amazed by the information. Roger Queed had left a tip of five hundred dollars. She had been given five hundred dollars for permitting Roger Queen to fuck her. He had paid for her cunt in the form of cash and an order for dresses. That made her a prostitute, or, to use the more fashionable name, an expensive call girl.
She could see Martin was in a petulant mood when he arrived home. He stalked in from the garage, dropped his briefcase on the small table in the entry hall and stormed into his den without saying hello. In a few minutes, he entered the living room, picked up the evening paper and turned it to the sports page.
"Is there something wrong, dear?"
He looked at her from the top of the paper. "Not really."
"You didn't kiss me when you came in."
He grunted and shifted the paper so he could read better. "Sorry, honey, I was thinking." "You didn't even say hello.""I was thinking about the office." "Is it something bad?"
"No, not that kind of bad. It's just that I won't get the senior partnership. Nagel plans on giving it to one of the fellows down in planning."
"You won't get the promotion? After you joined the country club?"
He shrugged, but she could see he was still disappointed.
"It didn't help. I guess they figure I'm not good enough."
"But you said."
"Never mind what I said," he told her curtly. "Old man Nagel decided on Michaels because his wife makes cock-hungry eyes at him."
"That can't be true."
Martin grunted, showing his disgust. "It's true all right. At that last meeting, Michaels brought her along. She and Nagel sat over in a dark corner for two hours and I know he was fingering her cunt."
He slapped the paper down on the floor beside his chair. "That's what gets promotions, Melissa; the boss finger-fucking your wife!"
"That's not true!"
Martin was getting mad. "It's office politics, Lissa. A man's wife has to butter up to the boss or you can't get anywhere in this business. I wish there was some way you could help me.
"I do help you, Martin," Melissa blurted. "I paid for your country-club membership."
"I mean things that count," he muttered. "Like getting this promotion. I was depending on the money to pay the guys at the club."
That was it. Melissa stomped her foot.
"Would it please you more if I permitted Mr. Nagel to finger-fuck me?" she demanded.
"Melissa!"
"Well, that's what you said, Martin! Would you?"
"Of course not!"
Martin buried himself back in his paper and Melissa went to take care of her roast. She thought about the promotion and Mr. Nagel. After dinner, she took two one-hundred-dollar bills from her purse and gave them to Martin.
"It's a bonus for helping sell a large order," she explained. "My wages and the bonus came to just two hundred. You can pay that gambling debt with it, Martin."
Martin stared at the money, caressed the two bills. "It's fantastic," he told her. "That modeling thing of yours is worth while after all."
"It has a lot of possibilities," Melissa said sweetly.
After dinner Martin settled down to watch a ball game and Melissa went back to thinking about the message she had received from Mark Anderson.
The game ended at ten-thirty. Martin had consumed two cans of beer, three straight shots of bourbon and was cussing the outcome. He was in an apparent nasty mood and complaining.
"Some people have all the goddamn luck! Why the hell can't Nagel give me that job like he's supposed to? We could have a ball on twenty-five hundred a month!"
"We're doing fine," Melissa stated reproachfully. "Don't be so greedy."
Martin continued to grumble. "I should have had that job. What I get now is peanuts."
Melissa smiled. "I could let Mr. Nagel finger-fuck me," she said with a sly grin. "Then maybe he will change his mind."
He gave her a sharp glance. "I wish you would," he retorted. Then he got up and shuffled off to bed.
Melissa followed, a little reluctant, knowing what Martin was like when he was in such a mood. He wouldn't actually care, she decided as she went about preparing for bed. He even sounded as if he would be pleased if she became intimate with his employer. What if Nagel was to go beyond the fingering stage? What would he say if she let Nagel fuck her? Would he care then?
She removed her makeup and washed her face. She could hear Martin in the bedroom removing his shoes.
She opened the door and turned out the bathroom light. Martin was sifting on the edge of the bed, waiting. He had turned on the bedside love lamp and he was naked.
She removed her own clothing, placing the garments on a chair, intending to take care of them in the morning. Martin was always in a hurry when he wanted to fuck.
"Hurry up, Lissa," he muttered impatiently. "My cock is throbbing."
She paused at the bedside, debating what position she should assume. "Where do you want me, honey?"
"On the bed, of course. I want to stick my cock in your pussy.
"Don't be so vulgar. I'm right here and I know what you want."
"'Course you do," he muttered. "I want my cock in your cunt."
Melissa frowned again.
"That's part of the enjoyment, Lissa. Saying fuck and cunt helps turn a man on. You should know that."
"I'm learning," Melissa said. She moved over on the sheet and lay back, resting her head on the pillows.
"Pull your legs up. I want to finger your cunt a bit first."
She drew her legs up, opened them so he could get down to her pussy. She could feel his fingers scratching in the hair, then one finger probed the lips of her pussy.
"It's still there, Martin," she reproached him. "The same as it was last night. It hasn't changed."
He didn't say a word. His finger worked in around the clitoris and it didn't do a thing to her. She closed her eyes and said fuck to herself Then she said it again. She didn't feel a bit turned on.
She could sense him beside her, leaning over, looking into her face. He wanted something more.
"Do you want to play with my cock, Lissa?"
She reached blindly for his prick. He was too far down.
"I can't reach it."
He turned his body, moved closer to her.
His cock was hard, she reflected, but not as puffy as usual. She couldn't. remember it feeling so big before and she squeezed it, noting how it fit in her hand. His cock felt so stiff that she found herself thinking it might satisfy her more than usual.
"Suck it, Lissa."
She didn't want to suck his prick. She wasn't in the mood and said so.
"You act like you've been fucked out," Martin grumbled.
That irritated her even more. Then she realized he was right. She was fucked out, she was fired. Roger had given her such a thorough fucking that she didn't want any more cock. At least not tonight.
But she knew she would have to comply.
She raised her ass until he had thrust his cock deep into her cunt, then she sank back with a sigh. It was only a coupling of convenience, she told herself. His cock was in her cunt and he was pumping up and down, arguing, complaining, telling her to move her ass around so he could get some feeling. She raised her ass a few times, then gave up. She was that tired.
His fucking was wearing her down and she had no feeling. It was so inhuman to climb on and start fucking. She had seen dogs in the process of fucking and it struck her that was the way Martin was doing it now. Just fucking.
You should fuck me in the ass doggy fashion, Martin. That really would be funny. You look like a dog fucking me, jacking your ass up and down, jabbing your cock into my cunt just because it there.
"Do you ha b to be so dead? Wiggle your ass a little."
She wiggled her ass.
"Can't you say something?"
Melissa clenched her fists against the sheet. "Aren't you about through?"
"No, damn it, I'm not through!" Martin sputtered. "I wish you would learn how to fuck."
"I will, Martin," she said in a weary voice. "I certainly will."
She didn't work Tuesday and Martin called her from his office explaining he wanted her to go out to the club with him.
"I'd like you to meet some of the fellows," he said on the phone. "Put on something that will make them drool a little."Melissa knew Martin loved showing her off. "I'll wear something nice," she agreed.
"Not nice," he corrected. "Sexy. Something that shows a lot of ass."
"I could come naked," she retorted, then hung up.
She picked one of her shortest skirts. A smooth beige with a short ruffle that flopped up and down when she walked. That, with bikini briefs, should show enough ass to please even a professional wolf. A tight-fitting green sweater completed the outfit and, viewing herself in the mirror, she smiled slyly, noting that she looked every bit the little bitch she intended to be.
Martin suggested a drink before having lunch. He chose to sit at the bar, watching people come and go.
Melissa perched quietly on her stool, aimlessly viewing the people at the bar. Her skirt had worked back up her thigh, leaving an expanse of leg visible.
She noticed Martin's sudden interest as three men entered from the dining room. He slid from his stool. "That's them," he said, nodding at the trio. "Remember, just be nice to them."
Melissa followed as he went over to the table. Be nice to them. How could she be nice to them in a bar? Bar tables are noted for being cramped, even in private country dubs.
Then Martin was talking to them, explaining something she couldn't hear, they moved over, asking her to please be seated and viewing her costume with lust-filled eyes.
She didn't like these men, Melissa decided. The way they peered at her, their leering grins, made her feel cheap and she was beginning to wish she had worn something a little more refined.
"Sandino will be along in a few minutes," one of the men said. "I'm Mike Christy, Sandino's accountant. I assume you brought the money."
Martin produced the bills, gave them to him. Christy thrust them into his pocket. Then he ordered drinks for the table.
What followed, Melissa considered shop talk. Golf scores, green fees. She had heard it all before. It was all so boring. She took larger swallows of her drink.
"You should join us more often," Christy told Martin. "We're working up a tournament and need a few potential pros, like you."
Martin was overcome by the flattery. "A good-looking wife can help too," Christy added. He grinned happily at Melissa.
Melissa gave him only a caustic glance, then turned her attention back to her drink. She wasn't prepared for the arrival of Chester Sandino.
Sandino came in through a side entrance, glanced about, sighted the group at the table, then came over.
"There's Sandino," Christy informed Martin. He nodded a vigorous welcome to the newcomer.
"Nice afternoon for a game," Sandino said as he extended his hand to Christy. "I assume this is your new friend." He offered his hand to Martin, then peered at Melissa.
"Well, how nice," he stated in a warm voice. "This is a real surprise."
Melissa was confused by the sudden confrontation, the appearance of a familiar face. It hadn't occurred to her that any of the men she had fucked might belong to the club.
She peered into his face, feeling embarrassed. She forced a smile, then accepted his greeting.
"This is a pleasure," she said in a forced casualness. "It is nice to see you again."
Christy appeared relieved. "You two already know each other?"
"I've had the pleasure," Sandino said. "A very nice pleasure."
He pulled up an extra chair, forced it between Melissa and his friends, then ordered drinks. He brushed aside the subject of golf.
"Forget the golf," he told Christy. "Beauty is to be enjoyed, not submerged under shop talk."
Melissa could feel his hand on her leg under the table. He was complimenting her, his voice droning on, staling what a nice model she was, how well she could wear clothing and how much it would be a pleasure to have her serve him again.
"I'd like you to show me something again," he said, turning to her. "Like maybe tonight. Could you make it?"
She wanted to say no, but Martin was so enthusiastic in being included in the circle of friends that he was becoming very benevolent.
"Anytime," he stated happily. "Lissa likes to model. Call her any time."
"I'll do that."
Melissa could feel Sandino's hand on her thigh, moving up, slowly pushing her skirt back. She wanted to say something, but realized she couldn't move. She couldn't let these men know what was happening. She was certain Sandino was taking advantage of the situation to catch a little feel under the table. His fingers were pushing at her panties, working up under the taut elastic at the legs.
Then his finger was pushing into the moist lips of her cunt and she wanted to blurt out how wonderful it felt, how nice it would be to have his cock thrust into her hot cunt again. She squirmed and his whisper, in her ear, only added fuel to the fire.
"Say the word, baby, and we can have another fuck all our own."
She slouched down, pushing against his finger. It felt so good, just like being fucked. She hated for him to stop, but Christy was becoming suspicious. He was eyeing her very strangely.
"Stanton is becoming quite a gambler," he told Sandino. "The next game, perhaps v e should raise the limits."
Sandino removed his finger from Melissa's pussy, wiped his hand on her skirt.
"I'll agree to that," he said approvingly. "His credit is number one with me."
He pinched Melissa on the thigh and she knew he would be calling for another session real soon.
Chapter Four
Wednesday afternoon she picked up her five hundred dollars from Mr. Anderson and put it in a savings account.
Because it was still early, she called Martin to ask what he would like for dinner.
The girl on the switchboard informed her that Martin wasn't in and expected to be late in returning to the office.
Melissa was placing her bag of groceries on the kitchen cabinet when a woman appeared at the kitchen door.
A thin-faced blonde peered at her when she opened it.
Melissa said, "Hello, Lois. What's keeping you happy these days?"
The blonde settled down on a stool.
"Happy," she muttered in irritation. "Who's happy? J. D. didn't get home until after eleven o'clock last night and I was fit to be tied."
"Did he have to work late, honey?"
The blonde grunted in disgust. "Work! The only work J. D. does is trying to coax some woman to lay down." She gave Melissa a pitiful smile.
"He thinks I don't know it but he goes to those massage places all the time. He likes fucking those kids they have working there, then when he comes home, his prick shrivels up to the size of a dried-up pork sausage and I have to go without cock again. I'm climbing the wall, kid, I really am. What do you do when Martin doesn't want sex?"
Melissa plugged in the coffee pot.
"I've never seen a time when Martin didn't want sex.
"You should be so lucky," Lois said.
"You say J. D. likes massages?"
Lois got up from the stool to peer into the top of the coffee maker. "To fuck, honey, not massage. J. D. gives the girls money to fuck him. Ain't that a case? Especially when he can fuck his own wife for nothin'."
Melissa had never heard Lois talk that way before. It puzzled her. "You may be accusing him unjustly."
Lois sank back on the stool. "Not on your life, honey. J. D. goes to the parlors and it isn't for massages. If it was, he wouldn't be so tired and I could get a little cock now and then. The other night I wanted to suck him, I wanted it so bad."
Melissa shook her head in pity. "That's too bad," she said.
"In fact, he won't look at my cunt any more. What should I do, Melissa?"
Melissa grinned slyly.
"Do the same thing those girls did. Get a job in a massage parlor.
Lois was pleased by the suggestion. She hugged Melissa, telling her how wonderful she was. "You're a doll, honey," she sputtered. "That's exactly what I'll do."
After she had left, Melissa smiled grimly. She had made the suggestion in fun but it could be the very best advice for Lois.
At five-twenty, the phone rang.
"We had a meeting," Martin informed her in a apologetic voice. "I could eat out if it's too much bother but I'd like to bring Mr. Nagel out tonight. Mrs. Nagel is at some reunion somewhere and I know he hates to eat alone."
Melissa listened with a sinking heart. She knew the reason why Martin was bringing Nagel home-it was time for Melissa to put out for his boss.
It had to be Martin's idea. He wanted her to be nice to him. Possibly even permit him to fingerfuck her.
How far would Martin want her to go? How far should she go? Leading a man on could have very disastrous results. By teasing him, making him assume his desires would be fulfilled, then turn him down, could be dangerous. It could cause Martin to lose his job instead of giving him the promotion he wanted so desperately.
There could be only one answer. She would have to give in, to let Mr. Nagel go all the way. She would have to be nice to him, let him finger her pussy than fuck him even if she had to do it without Martin knowing.
With the decision made, she felt better. She could go about planning how she would do it, what she would say to him, how she would dress for the occasion. She would certainly have to wear something that was easy to take off and would show a lot of skin. It would have to be sexy and skimpy so he could catch a view of her cunt when she crossed her legs. Once his animal instincts were aroused, fucking could be the only ultimate result. Yes, she could tease Mr. Nagel into fucking her; finding a means of getting rid of Martin long enough for them to do it was the problem.
They arrived at six-twenty and she could see by Martin's attitude that he had insisted on Nagel coming. He was very apologetic and he was a little too catering.
"Sorry to put this on you, hon," he told her. "I was certain you wouldn't mind. Lance, here, didn't want to come. I told him you would be insulted if he didn't."
"It was sweet of you to bring him," she declared. "It is such a pleasure to have another man around."
After dinner Melissa gathered the dishes from the table. Martin was casting glances in her direction as if expecting her to say something and his boss appeared very ill at ease.
"Will you mix the drinks, dear?" she inquired of Martin. "What will Mr. Nagel have?"
She listened for comment from the living room.
"Lance likes vodka," Martin said.
Melissa reached for the new bottle. "We're almost out," she said. "There's only enough for one drink. Will you go get some?"
Martin was apologizing. "I'll get some," he promised. "It'll only take a few minutes."
"Some corn chips too. I can't drink without corn chips."
Martin grunted his assent and turned to leave. "Also some cigarettes," Melissa added. "The carton is about gone.
Martin grunted again and left. Nagel cleared his throat.
"Anything I can do?" he inquired from the living room. "I feel a little useless just sitting here."
"Not really," Melissa said, with a wan smile. "I wanted to get rid of him so we could talk. He's been rather upset lately."
Nagel attempted to show sympathy but it came out mostly as boredom. "That's too bad," he said. "Doesn't he like his job?"
"It's my modeling," Melissa said. She laughed and that put him at ease. "I've been doing it for a few weeks for extra money."
"And you come in contact with men?"
He was looking at her, noting the shortness of her skirt, how well she filled out the dress she had chosen.
"Lots," she stated, with emphasis.
"They like to see you wearing clothes?"
"They would prefer to see me taking them off."
She paused, watching his face. He appeared to be dwelling on every word. She could tell he was interested.
He hesitated for a moment, still looking at her, then asked: "Do you ever take them off?"
"If they insist."
He was looking at her legs, as if determining what shape they were above the hem line. His gaze shifted boldly to the area of fabric that covered her pussy.
"You're a very attractive woman," he said.
She thought his voice sounded a little more husky.
"Would you like to see more of me?"
She asked the question because she had to know what he expected of her. Should she just sit on his lap so he could finger her cunt or did he want to get right down to fucking?
His eyes brightened and he nodded. "Yes," he said. "I would."
He had made the commitment. He wanted her to undress so he could look at her, then he would want to fuck her.
"We can do that better in the bedroom.
She motioned that he should follow, led the way. He followed her into the bedroom, then stood silently in the center of the floor as if undecided what to do. Melissa waited, wondering whether she should get undressed or permit him to do it. He appeared a little confused.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her skirt up so he could see her skimpy panties. "Do you want to fuck or suck?"
He was watching her, almost timidly. "I-I don't understand," he said.
"I'm trying to make it easy for you. I can undress or you can do it for me."
He seemed a little dazed but his gaze clung to the point where the narrow width of fabric covered the lips of her cunt.
Then he moved toward her.
She moved back on the bed, pulled her skirt higher, grasped the waist of her panties and pushed them down. Her cunt came into new.
Nagel was in a stupor. After a few seconds, he found his voice.
"What are you doing?" he mumbled.
"Showing you my pussy," Melissa said. "Isn't this what you want? Didn't Martin tell you what to do?"
"Martin?" Nagel repeated the name. His eyes clung to the wisp of pubic hair. "Martin didn't tell me anything."
He was confused. That was it, she told herself He was delighted to be with her and have the opportunity to fuck her, but confused as to how to go about it. She would have to let him know that she understood.
"It's all right, Mr. Nagel. I know all about it. You arranged with Martin to fuck me. Didn't you, Mr. Nagel?"
He mumbled and stuttered, then frowned.
Her smile became a little smug. She was certain she was right. He was gazing at her cunt like he had never seen a cunt before and the way he was licking his lips, he must be getting hot.
"You win, Mr. Nagel. You can fuck me, but I want to know that Martin will get the promotion first."
He shook his head as if in disbelief of what he was hearing.
"Martin already has the promotion," she heard him say. "I was going to tell him tonight. Now, I'm not so sure."
It was Melissa's turn to be stunned. She tried to speak but couldn't. He turned away and she knew she had offended him.
"You better pull your dress down, Mrs. Stanton," he told her in a calm voice. "Your husband might be coming back any time."
She knew now that Marlin had been wrong. Mr. Nagel wasn't giving the promotion on the factor of sex with an employee's wife. He had already selected Martin for the job, but she had gone too far. She had goaded him into changing his mind on the promotion.
And of course, Martin would be very angry.
Chapter Five
All the next day, Melissa recounted what Mr. Nagel had said. Her actions had cost Martin his promotion, he would never forgive her, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.
When she went to work that afternoon, Anderson explained that modeling assignments were becoming sparse. He was getting somerequests for girls who would pose nude at bachelor parties and could be interested in making a few bucks on the side.
"Not many afternoon dates," he told Melissa. "If you could take an evening call, I could fix you up seven nights a week. Can you do it?"
She had to decline. Martin would never permit her to be gone during an evening. Not without an explanation and she couldn't tell him what she had been doing.
Anderson shuffled his cards.
"There's this thing at the Blue Moon Motel. The guy says he's a freelance photographer, needs a girl to do special modeling for him. Probably skimpy costumes and bikinis and things like that."
She would give it a try. A couple hours posing in bikinis and negligees could earn her thirty dollars. She smoked a cigarette to cover her nervousness while Anderson called the client.
"She's a real nice girl," she heard him say into the phone. "She knows how to handle any situation." He placed the receiver back on the cradle and turned back to her.
"Williams will pay what you ask. Just do whatever it is he wants done."
Williams was younger than she had expected. Thirty-eight, Melissa guessed. He had a camera set up in the motel room.
She didn't like his looks and experienced instant revulsion on viewing his long bushy hair and the mottled beard.
"Nice to have you, baby," he greeted her. "You just follow directions and we'll get along fine."
She eyed the room arrangement, certain that she didn't like that either.
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Model, baby. Just take off your clothes and model."
"You mean you want me to model nude?"
"Of course. That's what the magazines are buying now days."
"I don't model nude, especially for pictures."
He feigned surprise. "You must be kidding. A chick with looks like yours is a natural for fuck pictures."
"I don't work for people who use language like that either."
"That's weird!" he blurted. "You got to be kidding! Chicks love to have a man take pictures of their cunt. Especially when some stud is giving her the meat!"
Melissa backed away, turned toward the door.
"You've got the wrong girl!" she snapped back at him. "Me you from Anderson's?" he demanded. Melissa said she was.
"Then clue me in, baby. Why this uptight routine. Mark said you would fuck and that's the reason he sent you. I want a girl who will fuck."
There had been no mention of fucking in the conversation, Melissa was certain. Williams was still pressing her for action.
"I'll give you fifty bucks to fuck you in the ass while I take a picture. What do you say?" "Are you trying to be funny?" "That's the going rate." "No."
"Thirty bucks to suck your cunt. Forty to do it on camera."
"No!"
"All right, fifty bucks to lick your cunt and take a picture. I'll set the time lever and when I get to licking real good, it'll go off."
"Your crazy!"
"Twenty dollars if you suck my cock."
She wasn't getting through to the creep. Melissa said no again, only louder. "NO!"
He sighed. "I'll give you five bucks to finger your pussy."
"NO!"
"Shit honey, why the big put down? It's good money."
"I'm not interested in your money," Melissa said in growing anger. "If you're looking for a tramp to treat like an animal, go to a massage parlor. They have girls who will do anything for a few bucks."
Williams was getting mad. His eyes were turning glassy.
"Well kiss my ass, you fuckin' little whore!" he bellowed. "What the hell makes you so high and mighty? Your cunt ain't no different than any other cunt. All it takes is a cock to make it happy!"
"Get lost!"
Melissa scuffled for the door. She had decided it was time to leave. As she dashed to her car, his voice screamed after her.
"Fuckin' bitch. You'll get your ass fired for this!"
She didn't stop to call Anderson and tell him what happened.
She had been home about twenty minutes when the phone rang and she knew it was Mark Anderson the moment she said hello.
"Melissa! What happened with Williams? He just called me and is mad as hell! You've lost me a client and a big fee. Why didn't you do what he wanted?"
"Because I didn't like what he wanted, that's why."
"He said you refused to fuck. I want to know why?"
"I don't fuck with creeps like him and besides,it's none of your damn business!"
The voice in her ear was becoming harsh. "My dear young woman," Anderson began. "When you sign a contract with me, you do ANYTHING THE CUSTOMER DESIRES, ESPECIALLY FUCK!"
"I'm canceling my contract."
"You can't do that."
"Yes, I can," Melissa said firmly. "I won't come in anymore."
"But why? I don't understand."
"Because I don't associate with weirdos and creeps, Mr. Anderson. I choose my friends, especially those who fuck me. Do you understand that?"
Anderson was almost sobbing into the phone. "But his money is good," he wailed. "You could have gotten two hundred dollars for just one picture if you had used your head. Now, he won't ever call me again."
"That's sad," Melissa said.
"I won't be able to use you anymore unless you promise to take care of all my clients."
"Sorry, Mr. Anderson."
Melissa put the phone back on the cradle and mixed herself a drink. She picked up a copy of Playboy.
The centerfold was dog-eared, as if Martin had opened it out often to see all there was to see. It showed a lot of cunt.
The picture was of a blonde with firm round tits, a big smile, blue eyes, a flat stomach and curly hair around her pussy. She was posed so that her cunt was open to the viewer.
That's the only kind of pictures the magazines are buying, Williams had said. She may have been a little harsh with him. She could have let him take a few shots of her. She could have posed standing by the bed, looking over at the camera as if asking if the viewer was ready to fuck her. Then one primping in front of the mirror or even on the bed with her legs spread. All of the poses would have to display her cunt but she didn't find that distasteful. It was the fucking bit that had irritated her.
Martin was unusually quiet when he arrived home and she could see that he was upset. It was obvious he hadn't received the promotion.
His answer to her greeting was a very cold hello. He settled in the living room and immediately buried himself in the afternoon paper.
He was studying the paper's X-rated entertainment page. Melissa knew that Martin liked the live performance theaters more than the porno movies. The movies showed a lot of naked women, many of them fucking or sucking but it wasn't the same, Martin insisted. What he liked was to watch the live girls fuck on stage. It would be a thrill, he had once told her, to be invited on the stage to fuck one of the gorgeous performers as part of the act.
"Sherri Layne's at the Mecca," he announced when she entered the living room. "Would you like to go after dinner?"
"Sherri who?"
"Sherri Layne. She puts on a real wild show."
"The girl who asks men in the audience to come on stage and fuck her?"
"There's nothing wrong with that. It's the in thing at the clubs."
"But they go down in the audience, naked, and let the men feel of them," Melissa said.
"What's wrong with that?" he asked peevishly. "Men like to feel naked women."
"But in front of their dates . . . and wives?"
"Women like it," he retorted. "If they didn't like it, they wouldn't be there."
He was staring at her, an angry, cold, stare that made her feel ill at ease.
"But do you have to watch while a man and woman fuck each other. Isn't that a little sad?"
"Sad!" he bellowed. "SAD! SAD MY ASS! IT ISN'T THE FUCKING I SEE THAT MAKES ME MAD, IT'S THE FUCKING I DON'T SEE!"
Her heart sank within her and she knew he would never forgive her for losing the promotion.
"I'm sorry, Martin," she cried. "I'm sorry you didn't get the it! That's what's bugging me. You know what that means? You let Nagel fuck you so he would change his mind!"
Her world was crashing around her. He was angry and he was accusing her of something she hadn't done but wanted to do.
"Martin, I didn't!" she cried in alarm.
"Then what did you do, Melissa. Did he just suck your cunt? Did he slurp it a little before he stuck his tongue all the way in? I really don't care, Melissa. I'm glad! I'm a vice president now. Isn't that marvelous?"
She couldn't see him because of the tears that welled up into her eyes and she didn't want to listen to any more accusations. She hurried into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Sunday afternoon her other neighbor Janice Humphery came over. Janice was older than Lois, being in her late thirties or early forties. She never went to church on Sunday and could always be depended on to appear for coffee.
She burst into a tirade of pity when she entered the side door into the kitchen.
"My God, woman!" she exploded. "You look a sight! What have you been up to?"
"Nothing," Melissa said. "I just didn't sleep."
Janice was all sympathy. "That's too bad, honey," she gushed. "Ain't your man giving you enough fucking. There ain't nothing like a good piece of cock to make a woman sleep at night."
"It isn't that . . . " Melissa began but Janice interrupted her.
"I was the same way, honey," she confided with a wave of her hand. "Hank and I wasn't fucking at all after he came back from Europe and I was climbing the wall until Marvin came around. He showed up right when Hank was losing his peter punching." Janice peered at the coffee maker. "Making coffee, honey. I sure could use some."
Melissa put the pot on a gas burner while Janice lunged back into the explanation of Marvin.
"Hank couldn't get a hard-on and his licking my pussy wasn't doing me no favors and I told him if Marvin had a stiff cock to send him around. Now Marvin comes over every Wednesday evening and Hank goes bowling. Marvin and I take a shower, pile into bed and fuck until he is plum worn out. I've slept like a baby ever since."
Melissa met the advice with a smile. Janice's outlook on life was from the level of a beer-hall hooker. Her remedy might be all right for her own problem but not for Melissa. The problem was not one of a shortage of fucking. Right now, she had an oversupply. Everyone she came in contact with wanted her to take off her panties and bend over. She gave Janice a half hearted grin, said she would think about it, poured the coffee and changed the subject. After a few sips, Janice was satisfied she had heard all of the gossip and went home.
Martin showed up at four-twenty. He had been out at the country club, he explained. He had played cards with his friends and had lost another hundred dollars. He remained rather quiet after mentioning the loss to Melissa.
"I was nervous because you were mad at me," he stated as his reason for losing. "My mind was in a fog and I couldn't play worth a damn."
"You didn't sleep here, did you, Martin? There weren't any blankets on the sofa."
He said he hadn't. "I drove around all night. I went out to the club this morning and took a nap in a big chair before the fellows came in to play."
She accepted the answer, but she didn't believe him. His pants weren't wrinkled and his shirt was still clean. "I was hoping you would come to bed," she pouted. "I missed you terribly." She put her arms around his neck and snuggled up to him. "Please don't do it again," she whispered. "I don't care about the money. I can get some if you need it. I want you home with me. I wanted a good fuck last night and you weren't here."
"No problem," Martin said. He kissed her on an ear. "Sandino said he would trust me for anything I lost."
"I'm sure he did," Melissa said, smiling. She snuggled up to him again, pushed her groin up against his. A lump was beginning to form there and that pleased her.
"I'll model for him again, if he wants me to," she whispered. "Now can we have a good fuck so my cunt will quit hurting?"
She thought about Sandino while she undressed and waited for Martin to get his pants off He was an arrogant, forceful man and she debated what she should say when he did call.
It was two o'clock Monday afternoon when the call came and Melissa answered, still undecided as to what to tell Mr. Sandino.
"We're making up a party," his voice drawled. "A few choice friends. We would like you to come over. One of the guests is a buyer and wants to see how the line looks on a model."
"Sounds interesting."
"After you show the things, then we can have our own little party."
"You mean without clothes."
He laughed. "Of course," he said.
She shook her head. "I don't think so," she said.
"Five hundred dollars?"
"To do what?"
"Be nice, baby. Just be nice."
"I'll think about it," Melissa said.
There was a pause as if Sandino was thinking of another means of making the idea more tempting. He sounded more businesslike when he spoke again.
"It's easy money, baby. There will be a lot of influential people here and you can make some good friends. Can you make it?"
Melissa said yes, then bit her lip for saying it. The thought of making another five hundred dollars was very tempting. It might not be so bad. She could lie down, close her eyes and pretend it was Martin fucking her. When it was over, she could take the money and tell Mr. Sandino she was through. That she wouldn't be his call girl any more.
Chapter Six
It was after three o'clock when she arrived at the address she had been given. It turned out to be a large one-story house, set back behind a curtain of trees. A young woman in a white apron opened the door and showed her into the family room to meet the other guests.
It was a small party. Three men and two womensitting on a large sofa and, already, the men were engaged in the process of feeling up the women. A fat man with a bald head and puffy eyes had his hand inside the loose blouse of his partner, busily nibbling her tits. The other, a younger man with sandy hair and a small mustache, had an arm thrust up under his partner's dress and it was evident that he already had at least one finger knuckle deep in her cunt.
No one appeared interested in watching her model clothing. Sandino greeted her with an outstretched hand and a martini. She accepted the drink, followed him to a love seat and settled down to wait. The two men gave her a glance and a grin, then returned to their probing. Both women looked extremely bored.
Conversation.
Sandino talked, she listened. He was telling her what an opportunity this was going to be. If the fellows liked her, she could come every Monday afternoon, then later, they would start an evening game of some kind. As his voice droned on, she suddenly realized that he was talking about Martin and the game he mentioned would be poker. He was planning on having evening poker games so that Martin would be occupied and she could be free to attend his parties.
"We have a horny group here," he was explaining. "They love to play games and go all out with games of sex. With your face and your figure, you could make a bundle. These guys all want to fuck and they will pay a good price to a woman they like."
He was offering her a job entertaining men. He was offering money, lots of money, for doing nothing but letting a man fuck her once in a while. It was an offer that most women wouldn't even consider, but she found herself wanting to say yes. Martin needed the money and this was a way of earning some of it for him.
"Sex therapists do it," he was saying. "They have nurses called surrogates who permit men to fuck them to prove they aren't impotent. What's the difference between a woman who fucks a patient and a woman who fucks a tired businessman?"
Sandino sensed her reluctance.
"Think about it," he said, giving her a friendly pat on the knee. "Let's have another drink."
Fe brought her another drink, then offered her a cigarette. While she puffed on it, she noted that more men were arriving, some with women, others alone. She tried to count them, got up to ten, then gave up. They were moving around too much.
Sandino was still talking and there had been no mention of modeling clothing.
She was beginning to feel a little giddy which she attributed to the drink. But she was also feeling a rising sense of pleasure. She wanted to enjoy herself.
Music was swelling forth from a record player which drowned out the hum of conversation and it was so good that the women turned their attention to the beat. Two of them bounced out on the floor and began to dance. Everyone appeared to be extremely happy.
Melissa was having a marvelous time.
She sipped her drink, smoked the cigarette, casually followed the movements of the dancers. They appeared to be having so much fun that she wanted to join them, but there was still the matter of her modeling commitment.
When she turned to speak to Sandino, he wasn't there and another, younger man was sitting beside her. He was good looking, almost handsome, she told herself and was a bit perplexed because she didn't remember when the exchange had taken place. She attempted to get a closer look and leaned forward, to find that she, was staring at the fly of his pants, instead.
He grasped her hand and squeezed it.
"You can have a real good look after while," he told her. She was experiencing a burning desire to fuck and this nice young man was just the kind of person she wanted to do it with.
She glanced at him coyly.
He squeezed her hand again.
"I wanna dansh," she confided. "Mr. Shandino wone care."
The young man was amused by her state of drunkenness. He shook his head. "You're with me now," he said in a whisper. "We can do anything you want."
"Wanna dansh," she said again. She climbed to her feet, teetered on the heels of her shoes.
"Can't dansh in theesh." She kicked them from her feet, then shuffled across the rug. The young man followed her.
It was more like a struggle than a dance, with the young man holding her close, pushing his body up against hers so that she was restrained from doing the bouncing she wanted to do. She pulled away from him.
"Wanna dansh free," she mumbled. She backed out of his gasp, twisted, laughing, then began to prance about, bouncing, keeping time with the music.
Nude figures were crossing her line of vision and she paused in order to focus her eyes on them. A brunette with long hair and bronze skin, flitted past her. She was naked. A man shuffled behind her in pursuit.
The women were shedding their clothing, tossing them aside with abandon. Melissa watched them for a minute then gleefully began to shed her own. Clothing was confining and restrictive. She wanted to do her dance naked. The men in the room watched with pleasure and applauded.
She was seeing the people about her through a haze, which made it difficult to determine exactly what was going on. She knew that the other women were naked and she could see the little blonde, who had been on the sofa when she came in, bending over, clutching the back of a chair while a man rubbed her asscheeks. Then he spread the cheeks of her ass and was pushing his cock into the asshole. Melissa turned away, embarrassed.
She became aware that a hand was rubbing her left tit. She couldn't focus her eyes properly and she looked at her feet. That was when she discovered that another man was sitting on them. His hand was thrust up between her legs and one finger was worming up into her cunt.
"Doon wanna finger in my cunt," she sputtered. She raised herself on tiptoe, pulling free from the finger probing her pussy. A hand clasped about her ankle, held her back, and she kicked at it with her free foot. Someone tapped her on the back.
"Bend over, baby. I'll stick it in back here," a voice suggested.
She twisted, looking for the speaker. "Doon want no cock in my ash," she lisped. "Go 'way."
The man behind put pressure on her back, thrust an arm about her waist to hold her steady.
"I want to fuck you in the ass. Bend over."
"Go 'way," Melissa said.
The voice was becoming demanding. "BEND OVER!"
"NO!"
The pressure on her stomach increased, the hand on her back pushed harder.
The man behind her sounded mad and he was becoming mean.
"When I say fuck you in the ass, I mean fuck you in the ass!" he growled. "bend over!"
"Get yer finger outa my cunt," she blurted. She slapped at the man sitting at her feet, then twisted to catch a glimpse of the man behind her. The hand grasped her shoulder, pushed on it, forcing her body forward. The voice rasped in her ear. "BEND OVER, YOU STUPID SLUT! I WANT TO FUCK YOUR ASS!"
Her body was forced to bend, she found her head lowered to the elevation of the head of the man in front of her. Her hands rested on his shoulders and she could see his tongue as it darted out and flicked at her breast.
"Doon wan' you suckin' my tit!"
The hand on her shoulder pushed harder, fingers probed her asscheeks and she could feel something huge and hard forcing into the crack of her ass.
"Doon wan no cock in my ash!"
A resounding smack on her ass jolted her forward and left a red splotch on her asscheeks.
"HOLD STILL, YOU DAMN WHORE!" a voice bellowed; The hard object probing her asshole moved downward, rubbed against the lips of her pussy, then a body slapped against her as the stiff object was thrust into her unwilling cunt.
She wiggled her ass, slapped at the man with a free arm.
"Doon wanna fuck dog-fashion," she wailed. "Wanna fuck right!"
The tongue was licking her nipple and a firm hand grasped her left tit. She slapped at it.
"Go 'way ya ashhole!" she gasped in dismay. "Doon wan'ya bitin' my tit!" She slapped again.
The massive hand cracked down on her hip and she flinched. The voice behind her was demanding that she hold still. The groin of the cocksman beat against her asscheeks as the stud fucked his shaft into her tight cunt.
No man had ever treated her this way before and she wouldn't put up with it. She thrashed at the figure in front of her, pounding him with her fists. The hold on her body loosened, the cock in her pussy was removed and a soft voice spoke in her ear. A gentle hand grasped her arm.
"Come with me, honey. I got rid of those assholes. Let's you and me find a place we can be alone."
She felt a gentle tug on her wrist and moved along with him, away from the noise, the grasping hands and the vulgar voices. She decided she liked the owner of this new voice and forgot that she was naked.
"We can be alone here."
She knew he had taken her somewhere in the house and she sensed it was a bedroom. His arm was over her shoulder, guiding her and she moved along as directed. Then she knew she was standing beside a bed and he was urging her to lie down onit.
"There's a lot of ways of doing it, pet," he was telling her. "It's nice when the gal hangs over a chair. It's also good when she leans over and grasps her ankles with her hands. That pushes her beautiful ass up in the air and leaves her cunt right there in the open, just begging for a hot cock to come.
He had his arms around her, was rubbing her back, roving down to her ass, patting the round cheeks with little love pats.
"We don't have to be shy, pet. Cunt has always been on my mind. It's a very nice thing to play with."
He was licking her earlobes and it tickled and she wanted to giggle. He was still talking to her, saying those funny things that was making her feel so much at ease. She liked what he was doing and what he was saying.
"There's more to fucking than just sticking your cock into a pussy. I like to finger the gut a little bit, then, when she is nice and hot and has a lot of sweet juice chipping from her pussy, I jab my meat into her."
Now she giggled and his lips pressed firmly on her cheek.
"Yur funny."
That made him laugh and she decided she liked him very much.
"Fucking is nice too," he whispered. "You get down on your hands and knees and aim your ass toward that corner of the room, then I come over and stick my prick into your little cunt and we go to town. I suck 'em, fuck 'em and pluck 'em. It's all in a day's fun, pet."
He was moving her closer to the bed, putting more pressure on her shoulder.
"All you have to do is lie down, spread your legs and let me stick my cock into you. Then, if you wiggle a little bit, I'll work your cunt into a real pleasure storm. After I'm through, then you can suck my cock until I can shoot another wad and we do it all over again. Ready, pet?"
She was so tired, so awful, awful tired. It would be nice to sleep. The nice man was telling her to lie down and that pleased her. She closed her eyes and sank back on the soft mattress.
She felt something warm brush her lips and realized he had kissed her. Then his lips were on her shoulders and working down to her tits. His fingers were pinching her nipples gently and the sensation was sending electric messages to her cunt, then he was licking one, flicking it, teasing it in a way that was very pleasant and reassuring.
He was so gentle!
She could feel his soft tongue on her stomach, licking the skin, sending tremor after tremor through her body. It was so nice, so pleasing, she loved it.
The closer he came to her cunt, the more she began to tremble. It was beautiful, it was marvelous. IT WAS MADDENING!
Then she realized what the man's intentions were. She wanted to say no, to tell him that she was married and couldn't let a strange man fuck her, but her voice wouldn't make the words. Instead, she heard herself saying, "My cunt is burning up! Hurry! Stick your cock in me!"
A finger traced a line around her tit. "Be patient," the voice said softly.
She reached for him, seeking his body, desiring to pull him to her, to force his cock into her pussy. She wanted to cry.
"Oh God! It's burning up! Lick it, suck it, do something, please do something!"
Tender, gentle fingers probed the hot lips of her cunt, seeking her clitoris, touching it, squeezing it, bringing it to a firm erection.
"Stick your cock in me!" Melissa moaned in growing passion. "Fuck my cunt now! Fuck it hard! I'm dying for your cock!"
The bed creaked as his weight came down on it and she could feel him moving her legs apart, then the soft touch of his skin as he positioned himself above her. Soft fingers probed the folds of flesh at the opening of her cunt, then the warm round head of his prick was pushed gently into the opening.
He was teasing her pussy; rubbing the round knob of his cock in the juice of her cunt. Then he placed it in the opening again. She wanted to grab it, pull it, shove it into her hot slippery cunt. He was being so slow.
"Push it," she gasped. "Fuck me hard!"
"Here it comes, baby," he whispered in her ear. "Get ready for a real fuck."
His groin banged against her clit as he shoved his cock into the hot sleeve of her cunt.
"Take it, baby!" he grunted. "I'm going to give you all I've got!"
It felt so good she had to sigh. She pushed up against him. She began moving her hips, forcing his cock into the extreme regions of her cunt. It was so exciting, so pleasurable. This was fucking as it should always be.
He was kissing her, hungry sucking kisses that burned her mouth. His arms encircled her, clasping her tight, holding her close to his body, skin against skin, as his groin pumped up and down, driving his cock deep into the confines of her cunt.
"I love you, my darling," he whispered in her ear. "You are so beautiful and so hot. It's a pleasure to fuck you."
Fuck? Yes, fuck. He was fucking her. It was so absolutely marvelous.
"Fuck? Oh yes," she whispered. "Please fuck. Fuck my cunt real hard! Push it real deep! Fucking you is so wonderful."
"You're made to be fucked, fucked and sucked, then fucked again."
Fuck, she thought. What a beautiful word. She repeated it to herself as she peered up into his face. Then his cock began pumping into her pussy. The pain in her cunt increased and she wanted to cry, to scream, to shout with joy.
"Fuck me, honey!" she gurgled. "Fuck me fast! Fuck me all the way up to my belly! I need your cock inside of me. Give me more!"
He forced a finger in beside his pumping cockshaft and caressed the hot lips of her cunt. She was certain to go mad. Her cunt was throbbing. Her passion would only die when his prick started to spurt cum.
"Fuck me, honey," she pleaded in his ear.
"I'm fucking you, baby."
"Push your cock in hard."
"I'm pushing, baby." "Kiss my tits, honey." He kissed her tits. "I love you, honey," she whispered in passion. "I love you too, baby.""I want to suck your cock." "After I fuck you, baby." "Harder." He pushed harder."HARDER!" He fucked her hard. "Fuck me fast, honey."
She began swinging her head back and forth and that slowed him down. She knew she shouldn't do it, but the pain was so wonderful, so tantalizing that she couldn't hold still. She found herself screaming, begging for more cock, fucking faster.
"Oh Jesus, you fuck so wonderful. Bite my tits!"
He nibbled at the nipples of her breasts but in order to do so, he had to stop fucking. That pained her more.
"No, please!" she begged. "Fuck, please! Don't stop! Push your cock back into me! Just fuck and fuck and fuck!"
He resumed fucking.
He increased his tempo as if feeling the surge of his own sexual release, fucking in and out at a furious pace. Her hands were on his back, fingernails scratching the wet skin. She could smell the odor of sweat and with it the musky odor of her cunt. It was doing something to her, and as his tempo increased, her own sensations mounted and she clutched at him, holding him tight, pulling him down until his head was next to her own, his ear brushing her lips.
"It's so beautiful, honey. I love your cock in me. Push it hard and beat my cunt with your balls. I love the feel of your balls. Fucking is so grand . . Oh . . . Oh God . . I'm . . . I'm. Jesus, honey, I'm . . . HONEY!"
She pulled at him, locked her legs around his torso, and held him tight in a love embrace."I'm
coming.., coming... Jesus, honey cunt...It's marvelous...Ohhhh..Ohhhhhh!"
She jerked as he drove hard down on her, jerking his ass against her restraining embrace, then he wiggled, slapped against her cunt again and went limp. She could sense the flow of hot cum as his cock flared inside of her pussy and there was an answering explosion within her own body.
All she could do was cry, "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God..."
Then she bit him on the ear.
Chapter Seven
It was after six-thirty when Melissa reached home, but Martin hadn't arrived yet. She had a terrific headache and hoped the coffee would steady her nerves.
In her haste to leave the party and because of her giddiness, she had forgotten to claim the fee Mr. Sandino had promised for the job. That meant she would have to get it from him tomorrow.
She was suffering from a sense of guilt, in spite of the enjoyment she had received from being fucked by a stranger. She realized that she was acting like a nymph. Martin would never understand.
She sought to rationalize the matter by insisting that she wasn't going to bed with just anyone; they had to have money. Then, she realized with a start that because she had accepted payment for her favors, she was becoming a prostitute.
As she sipped her coffee, she told herself she wouldn't do it again. Regardless of how much money Martin lost, she wouldn't accept payment for fucking men. She didn't want to say the word but it continued to well up in her thoughts. She bit her lips, then permitted them to form the word.
"Whore."
She said it again, then once more, much louder.
"WHORE!"
It was almost eight o'clock when Martin finally arrived. She heard him whistling as he parked the car in the garage. He sounded very happy. She pretended to be busy dishing up the food.
"You sound pleased," she said as he came through the door from the garage.
He was exuberant. He gave her a kiss on the back of the neck and grabbed her about the waist. "I won, honey!" he exclaimed with pride. "I won five hundred bucks."
She laid down her spoon and turned in his grasp so she could face him. His eyes were bright with pleasure.
"So much!" she exclaimed. "That's wonderful." "I really had the cards tonight, Lissa. The fellows never had a chance. He gave a strong laugh, then kissed her on the lips. "What's for dinner?"
"Stew. I hope you don't mind.""Sounds great, but tomorrow we'll have steak." "Honey, you're so wonderful," she assured him. "Anything for my doll!"
He held out his hand so she could see the money it contained. "Four hundred bucks! Every dime of it mine. I won five, they kept the one I owed them and I've.. . we've got four. We're in, sweetheart!"
Five hundred dollars! That was the exact amount she had been promised for...
She frowned as the thought hit her. She hadn't been paid by Sandino but Martin had won five hundred dollars. Why not three or six hundred? Why that amount? She didn't want to believe what she was beginning to suspect. She would ask Mr. Sandino, tomorrow, to make sure.
When she called the next morning, Sandino wasn't at the number he had given her and she had no other way of contacting him. All she could do was sit and wait for him to call her. Because she was so bored and so determined not to take another assignment from Anderson, she decided to go shopping.
After hours of trudging the streets and thumbing through the dress racks without any luck, she decided to have lunch.
A familiar figure moved by her as she entered the door of the restaurant. Melissa paused, then called to her neighbor.
"Lois. It's nice to see you."
Lois turned back.
"Melissa! Nice to run into you. Haven't seen you much lately!"
"I've been busy."
"Me too. I got the job."
"Nice. Which one?"
Lois grasped her arm. "Are you in a hurry? Want to talk?"
Melissa nodded. "Sure. I came in to get something to eat. I'm starving, how about you?"
"Me too," Lois said. "I came over to get some baby oil. It's marvelous for chapped hands."
They sat down at a lunch counter.
"Tell me about the job? Which one?"
"The massage thing? Well, I went in the next day after we talked and they put me to work."
Melissa beamed her approval. "That's nice."
Lois grimaced. "The first day was a little rough. You know, with strange men and things."
"Did you get taken care of?" Melissa asked.
Lois laughed. "I sure did. The first time I was so nervous that I forgot to take my pants off. The guy did it for me. He climbed up on me and pushed his cock into my cunt like he was afraid it would run away. It was wild, Melissa!"
They both laughed.
"How did J. D. take it?"
Lois put a finger to her lips. "He doesn't know, honey. Don't you tell him. He thinks I'm working in a nursery. You know, where they keep pre-school kids while the parents work."
"I won't breathe a word," Melissa promised. "Tell me all about it."
"It's at the Staircase. They have three little rooms and you take the john into one of them and ask what he wants. If he says massage, you give him a massage."
"Suppose he wants something else?" Lois shrugged. "You give him what he wants." "Can you make money.
"Sure. You get three dollars for a fifteen-minute massage, ten dollars for a blow job and whatever the guy will give you to let him fuck you."
"A hundred dollars?"
Lois shook her head. "Gosh no, honey. The guys usually offer twenty, thirty, sometimes even forty dollars. They don't have a lot of money, but they don't expect much either.
Forty dollars, Melissa mused. Think of that, laying down on a hard table and let a man stick his cock into you for a measly forty dollars. She had just turned down a job that paid three hundred and up.
"Sounds great," she said aloud. "Must be fun." "The old men are the best," Lois said. "They come in, looking all scared and worried because they don't know what it's about. When you get them in a room, they are too bashful to ask you to take your clothes off I gave one old guy a nude massage, then got on the table so he could eat my pussy. He lapped at it like he hadn't seen a cunt in ten years, then he tried to push his cock into me and it was so limp it wouldn't go. I gave him a local and it raised up and went poof. That was all."
Lois laughed, then lowered her voice. "I felt so sorry for him that I told him to keep the ten dollars. He was so pleased he was ready to cry."
She wiped a tear from her eye, caused by her laughter, then slid from the stool.
"Time's up, Melissa. I better get back. I have a one-thirty appointment, a salesman who wants to get his balls cracked this afternoon so he won't mess up a sales appointment tonight. Ain't that a kick!" She waved. "See ya!" She hurried out of the store.
At four-thirty, Mr. Sandino called.
"Sorry I missed you, Melissa. Had an important engagement. You know about the money, of course?"
"What money?" she asked.
"We let your husband win your money playing poker. He thinks he really won it and he won't need to know about you and me."
Melissa frowned. "I don't understand," she declared with mounting suspicion. "I earned the money, I want it myself."
"This is the same thing," Sandino said. "When your husband lost money, you worked to pay off his losses. This way he does it all and there's no problem. He's happy and so are we."
"I don't like it."
"Sometimes we can give you a little extra, to play along. Like Friday night."
"What's happening Friday night?"
"We have three bigwigs in from Phoenix and they want to have some fun. We can have dinner around seven, then go out to the club and swim. After that you can dance, then go to bed."
"No," Melissa said.
"You should have an enjoyable evening and everyone will be happy."
She thought about it for a moment, remembering the problems of keeping things from her husband.
"Martin won't stand for it," she said. "We usually go to a movie Friday night."
Sandino's voice came back bold and demanding. "Not this Friday. We have a big poker game scheduled and your husband will be one of the prime hands."
Melissa exploded in anger. "NO!" she snapped. "No! I won't let him do it."
Sandino was unfazed by her show of temper. "He could possibly win a thousand dollars, Melissa. Do you think he would be pleased to miss a game like that?"
Melissa was astonished. She hadn't known that so much money was possible.
"A thousand dollars," she repeated. "He could win that much?"
"We will make sure that he wins that much," Sandino said. "That's how much your fee will be for the party Friday night."
"I still can't do it."
"Why not?"
"Martin would want to know where I was going."
Sandino's voice chuckled in her ear. "He already knows about the party. - We mentioned that we would ask you to come so he could be free Friday night."
Melissa didn't know what to say. She stared dumbly at the wall.
Sandino continued. "He thinks you will be entertained to keep you happy during the game. If you like, it can break up at midnight or, if things go right, it can carry on until morning."
"Why so late?" she inquired.
"My clients like to drink, then they like to play. It could be a full night."
Melissa sighed. "Martin wouldn't know?"
"Not unless you tell him."
"And if I refuse?" she inquired.
The voice on the phone became even more firm. "In that case we will have to explain to Martin why he won five hundred dollars. I don't think he would like that."
Fear seized Melissa. She hadn't even considered that possibility. "I'm sure he wouldn't," she said in a humble voice.
"Be ready at seven. A car will pick you up and bring you to the club."
"I'll be ready," she agreed.
She put the phone back on the cradle.
What could she do now? If she went to the party, she was certain she would be fucked. If she refused, Sandino would tell Martin that he hadn't won any money, that it was money she had earned as a call girl. He would never understand such a situation. He might even divorce her and she couldn't let him do that. She loved Martin too much.
After two martinis Melissa decided that there wouldn't be any harm in going along with Sandino one more time.
The next two days went by so slowly that Melissa was thankful when Friday finally arrived.
She spent Friday morning thinking about the party and making certain that her dress fit properly. At five-thirty, Martin called saying he wouldn't be home for dinner and for her to go see a movie.
Melissa took this as a signal that all was clear and began to get ready for the evening. At seven o'clock, a black automobile rolled up to a spot just beyond the driveway and stopped. It remained silent, waiting.
She strode out, noting that the driver still had not emerged and assumed that such had been his instructions. He opened the front door, indicating she should sit beside him rather than in the back. She accepted the position, settling down into the soft upholstery.
"Sorry if I kept you waiting," she said quietly.
"No sweat," he answered.
His bold eyes appraised her tight see-through blouse, then his gaze shifted to the gap in the skirt and the shorts that showed through.
"The pleasure is all mine," he said simply.
It was almost dark when they entered the country-club driveway.
"Mr. Sandino said to bring you in the back way," the driver confided as they drove through the parking lot to a position at the rear of the building. "He didn't want you bothered by other guests."
Other guests, she assumed, meant Martin and his poker-playing friends.
She followed her guide in through the back door and down a service hallway where Sandino met them at the door of a reserved room.
It was extremely quiet, she noticed. The men who stood up to greet her appeared well to do. The looks on their faces, their clothing and the way they talked, indicated money. After the usual introductions, Sandino departed, leaving her in the companionship of her "date" for the evening.
He introduced himself as Thomas Durant and she was pleased that he liked her. He looked so fatherly, so friendly.
In the process of becoming acquainted, she found it easy to explain to Thm that she was married, no children, loved her husband and worked to help him acquire some of the luxuries he desired.
"You're not a prostitute, are you?" he asked casually.
The question surprised her and she didn't know how to answer it.
He sensed her reluctance and chuckled.
"You don't have to say either yes or no if you don't want to," he told her.
"It isn't that," she murmured. She stared into his face and his understanding smile made her feel better. "It may sound silly," she added, "I don't know the answer."
His hand rested on a stockinged knee. "You mean you aren't selling your body for money?"
"I mean I don't do this..." She paused. Now she was confused. She searched for the words to explain. "With me, it isn't a business," she said.
She could see he was pleased and the hand on her knee began to rub gently, working slowly up toward the leg of her miniskirt.
"I like that. It means you came because you wanted something other than money."
She nodded. "I came because I wanted to help my husband."
He gave her a light pat on the leg. "That's a very commendable way to look at it."
She lowered her eyes and stared at her glass, remembering only vaguely that it had been given to her and that she had instantly downed the liquor it contained.
Two other women had arrived, girls who were overdressed, heavily made up. Definitely as call girls. The two young men accepted them as their "dates".
They ate in a small dining room, dining on steak and lobster and white wine. And all the time they conversed, his hand was on her leg, worming down between them, reaching to feel her pussy. It was all so animal-like, she reflected, and she really didn't like him that well.
His fingers were clawing at the crotch of her panties and she wiggled because the tight fabric was biting into her pussy and it hurt. She realized that she didn't want to fuck him, she didn't want him pawing her body and; above all, she didn't want his finger scratching the tender lips of her cunt.
She was relieved when dinner was over and they went back to the comfort of the meeting room.
Durant stood close to her, as if patiently waiting for her to make a comment. Instead, she straightened the waist band of her skirt. He was following every movement.
"Don't you intend to get undressed so we can start the sex games?"
She fumbled with the band of the skirt, Undressed? Did he mean for her to undress right there?
"Games?" she repeated. "What kind of games?"
"Anything. You can get down on your hands and knees and I'll fuck you dog-fashion or I can sit on a chair and you sit in my lap. Anything that will make for fun."
"You're kidding!"
He was staring at her skirt as if trying to see through them. "Not at all. You did know you were expected to fuck, didn't you?"
Melissa was embarrassed. She tried to speak, but couldn't.
"We're all friends here," he said in a fatherly tone. "Sex to us is very important and it doesn't matter how many people are looking on. I would prefer that we got down to the fucking bit. I haven't had any cunt for a few days and I'm feeling really horny."
He voiced his request with the same casualness that he had used in offering a drink. Would you like a martini now, or wait until later? Do you want to undress so we can fuck flow, or wait until later? Melissa found his straight-forwardness perplexing.
He was picking at the buttons of her blouse, unbuttoning them one by one, his eyes intent on the firm mounds of flesh behind the fabric, then he was pushing it off her shoulders and working it down her arms. She stood as if petrified.
Her naked tits were rosy under the room light and she raised her arms as if to cover them.
He leaned over and licked one nipple gently with his tongue. His fingers moved down to the waist of the skirt and she knew there was little use to refuse. She removed the skirt.
He almost sighed when she revealed her pussy. As she undressed, she realized that everyone was doing the same and everyone was naked.
Durant stepped out of his shorts and his massive prick swung lazily. He rubbed his cock, bringing it to a partial stiffness.
He squeezed it with his hands, rubbed his balls, and strained to bring on an erection.
"Help me," he pleaded.
Melissa stared at the sagging sack which held his balls and at the partially limp roll of cockflesh. She went down on her knees, began stroking it gently.
"Suck it, please."
She felt panic. In the last few weeks she had permitted various men to fuck her, but she had never engaged in cocksucking. Now she was being asked to do so and she wasn't certain she would like it. Martin had mentioned girls that gave blowjobs and he always laughed at them as if they might be some sort of freak. She didn't want to be a freak. She didn't want to suck this man's cock. Her heart began to beat rapidly and she sensed that she was getting red in the face.
"Don't be bashful, sweetie," Durant wheezed. "My cock's as clean as any other man's."
Melissa stared intently at the length of prickflesh, attempting to focus her vision on it.
She grasped the sagging cock with her thumb and fingers and brought it close, to her mouth. "I'll try," she promised.
His prick was stiff now and the head of it thrust upward, as if reaching for her lips. She bent down, opened her mouth and held it in the offering, not yet permitting her lips to touch the round knob. She could hear Durant sputtering. He was becoming impatient.
"Jesus, woman! What's the matter?" he snapped. "What's so difficult about sucking a cock?"
She wanted to back away, to tell him she wouldn't suck his cock, but she knew she couldn't. They would tell Martin and that would be worse.
She settled her lips down around his erect cock, feeling the strange pressures of something so large in her mouth. It was like attempting to thrust a banana into her mouth all at once. She lowered her head, forcing the shaft further into her oral cavity. She sensed that Durant was glowering at her. Apparently he was a man who was accustomed to having his orders obeyed at once. Even by a whore who was supposed to suck his cock but didn't know how.
Melissa breathed deep through her nose and closed her lips tight around Durant's hard cock. She knew she would have to satisfy him or lose the one thousand dollars she was supposed to get.
She would imitate the girls in the porno flicks, she decided. She had seen them doing a cocksucking act and it had looked easy. They had bent over the man's cock, taking it in their mouths and then moved their heads up and down to give the action. Somehow, that had made the man have an orgasm and they seemed to love it. She would have to do it that way now.
She closed her lips tight against the flesh of Durant's cock, then moved her head up and down, pressing her tongue against the hot skin and realizing that there was no other place to put it. She pressed hard, pushing the flesh as if she wanted to lick it clean and she could feel Durant move as if the action was giving him a great pleasure. He was mumbling, repeating the words, "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy."
She was encouraged to faster action; bobbing her head up and down and pressing her tongue against the swollen prick, teasing it to erection. Durant had arched back, raising his ass off the chair, pushing his groin up to meet the onslaught of her attack. He was moaning.
"That's the way, baby. Suck the shit out of it!"
She was trying to live up to his expectations.
She pretended that she was home eating a banana for lunch. His cock was a long, delicious banana and it was becoming harder as she nibbled at it. The large round head was hitting the top of her mouth and slapping the arch of her throat. She expected, at any moment, for the cream to come shooting from the end of it and she didn't know what she would do when it happened.
Durant was grasping her head.
"That's enough," he said in a hoarse whisper. He pulled his pulsating prick from her mouth and settled back on the chair. "I want to fuck you dog-fashion."
Melissa cringed. She considered dog-style fucking so animalistic that she didn't want to do it. It was ridiculous and degrading to get down on her hands and knees and have a cock thrust into her cunt from the rear. Fucking dog-fashion might not make her come, then what would she do? But her duty was to Mr. Durant, she reminded herself She had to keep Mr. Durant happy so she would receive her one thousand dollars and Martin would never be told how she had earned it. She had to permit Durant to fuck her dog-fashion.
She settled down on the floor, placing her knees on the coarse rug and waited patiently for Durant to enter her pussy. She could hear him grunting and making noises which sounded more animal than human.
She sensed him kneeling behind her, holding his cock level as he aimed it at her curd. He moved in, preparing to thrust the shaft into the waiting lips of her pussy. She could feel his body brushing her thighs as he guided his prick into her hair-fringed cunt. A hardness brushed the cheeks of her ass, then she felt the bulbous knob of his cock as he shoved it into the tender flesh of her pussy.
She told herself she would pay no attention to what he was doing. She would think of something else and if there was pain, she would force her mind to overlook it and soon it would be over.
But there was no pain; only the soft pressure of his cock thrusting in and out between her leg. She could feel his hands grasping her hips and the slap-slap of his groin against her ass as his prick pumped in and out of her cunt. It was massaging the tender nub of her clitoris and the combination of fucking and massaging was bringing alive nerves that had been quiet for a long time. She was beginning to like this kind of fucking and found herself pushing back against him.
"It's wonderful," she panted. "So wonderful, wonderful."
"You have a very nice cunt," Durant whispered from behind her. "After I fuck you like this, you'll never want it any other way again.
She butted back against him, forcing her ass against his balls. "Oh God!" she blurted. "My cunt is begging for more. Give me more!"
Durant didn't answer and she could hear him breathing heavily each time he thrust forward to push his stiff cock into her cunt. He was grunting as if his actions were taking more energy than he had anticipated.
Melissa's head was almost on the floor, her tits dragging against the rug as she lowered herself on her arms, raising the angle of her cunt, making it an easier target for his ramming cock.
"Give me more!" she pleaded. "It's so wonderful. Fuck me hard! Make me feel it!"
Durant was beginning to gasp. His amorous desires had grown stronger than his physical ability to accomplish them. He was becoming tired.
Melissa was beyond caring.
"Don't slow down," she begged. "Fuck me faster!"
Durant was unable to respond. He couldn't speak. He was pushing and pulling as rapidly as possible. His muscles were becoming tired.
Melissa shook her head back and forth, agonizing in the sheer ecstasy of what was happening to her. "More, more!" she cried. "Push your cock into me. Oohhh! Oohhh!"
She wiggled her ass, pushing back against his slapping groin, searching for more feeling.
"Oh Jesus," she moaned. "My cunt is burning up. Fuck me more, please. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
Her urging had no effect. Durant was becoming fired and he was slowing down.
Melissa began rocking forward, taking the pressure off Durant, then slapping back against him. Her rocking took the place of Durant's thrusts and the pleasure began to increase. She felt her nerves respond to the added stimulation. It moved from her asshole, through her womb, back to the mouth of her cunt. She was burning with passion and begging for more action, all the while rocking forward and backward on Durant's wet prick. It felt very very good.
Then she felt it. The pain that was sheer enjoyment. Her insides erupted and the hot cum flowed down the lips of her cunt, wetting his thrusting prick. She stopped rocking, her nerves became quiet, and she felt a strong desire to sleep. To just lie down and never get up again.
Her mind was numb but not numb enough to cloud the strong voice which shrilled in her ear. It was a man's voice and it was uttering words she didn't like.
"Melissa, you little bitch! So this is how you spend your lime when I'm not around! Well, I'll be God damned! Letting every creep in the country fuck your cunt! What the hell are you doing, Melissa? Holding a fuckathon?"
She tried to get up but couldn't. A heavy body was draped over her back and she could still feel Durant's prick in her cunt. She could feel him wiggling, as if attempting to get that last inch, that last bit of action before his cock shriveled.
The voice sounded closer now and it was saying things she didn't want to hear.
"You can go to hell, you dirty little slut. Give your cunt to any fucking stud who wants to use it. I don't want any part of you!"
Durant was bellowing behind her and she suddenly realized that she was no longer coupled to him. His voice was shouting orders, calling names, demanding that something be done to shut up the intruder.
He was waving in all directions at once. "Monty! Get this idiot out of here! What the hell is he doing here?"
There was the thump of heavy feet moving rapidly across the padded floor, then scuffling bodies and obscenities as men shouted at each other. Then another voice, Martin's, ordering someone to leave him alone.
"I'm taking my wife out of here!" he shouted. "You bastards can't stop me!"
A firm hand grasped her arm and she could feel something being wrapped about her body, covering up her nakedness. Then she was being led away from the lighted room and the grotesque naked bodies that inhabited it. She was sick. Martin had discovered what she was doing, was taking her away, and he would hate her for it. She had spoiled everything.
Now he would divorce her and she would die because she loved him so much.
She felt the cool breeze brushing her cheek as they walked across the hard surface of the club parking lot, then she was in a car and it was moving along through the night. She sank back against the seat, closed her eyes and that was the last she knew of Friday evening.
Chapter Eight
Melissa came awake slowly, increasingly aware of the dull ache behind her eyes. When she moved, twinges of pain erupted around her buttocks. She felt as if she had been given a severe spanking.
She stared at the ceiling, contemplating her discomfort and relishing the notion of going back to sleep. Then she remembered. It was Saturday morning and Martin would want breakfast early so he could get to work on his boat. She turned over, and she realized she was in bed alone.
Martin must have gotten up early, leaving her to sleep because he would know she was tired after last night.
Quick tears welled into her eyes and she held back a sob as the full realization of what had happened came back to her. He knew all about the party and that meant he had seen her fucking Durant, possibly had even watched her suck his cock.
God what a mess! Martin would hate her for what she had done and would leave her. Fucking had become so much a part of her desires that she was worried that she might not be able to stop. She had heard of girls who were called nymphomaniacs because of their desire for cocks and their willingness to accept any prick. That was what she had become-a common whore and she hated herself for it.
She buried her head in the pillows and began to cry softly.
At ten o'clock, she dragged herself from the bed, put on a robe to cover her nakedness and shuffled out to the kitchen. She forced herself to eat breakfast, not because she was hungry but because she needed something to do.
She was staring sadly at her coffee cup when Janice Humphery rang her doorbell.
"My God, honey!" Janice blurted when she opened the door. "What have you done to yourself?"
"I didn't sleep very good," Melissa said sheepishly.
"You look bad," Janice said. "Aren't you getting enough fucking to make you sleep?"
Melissa winced.
"That isn't it at all. Martin was out of town last night and I was home alone. I didn't sleep very well without him."
Janice settled down on a kitchen chair. "You should have let me know, honey," she told Melissa. "Marvin could have dug up a friend. It isn't good to go without your fucking."
Melissa shook her head.
"You let me know," Janice said with a sly wink. "I can get you some cock just any time you need it."
Melissa poured coffee, setting a cup for Janice in the hope that drinking the coffee would keep her mind off sex.
"Martin couldn't make it back last night," she lied. "I missed him so much I just couldn't sleep."
"Next time, you let me know. I can come over and keep you company."
Melissa shuddered. The idea of putting up with Janice for an entire evening was appalling.
"There's a lot of good cock running around loose," Janice confided. "It isn't right for a woman to go to sleep without a good stiff cock prick in her cunt."
Melissa reluctantly nodded. "It doesn't matter," she said. "Martin will be home tonight."
"Sure he will, honey," Janice agreed. "A man can get pretty lonesome for his old shoes."
Melissa sipped her coffee and tried another topic. The conversation became boring.
Janice finally thanked Melissa and went home. The balance of the morning was a complete drag and Melissa found herself becoming more and more bored. She was alone-completely alone, without even the sound of a mouse to break that horrible silence.
At one o'clock, she settled back down in the living room, leafing through a girlie magazine that Martin had brought home. She spent the next hour going through it, looking at the photos of the nude girls. The poses were more or less the same. A nude girl leaning on a chair. Another nude girl clutching a pole lamp. All were young and all were showing their little cunts. That was the feature that grabbed the men, she decided. Showing their sweet little cunts.
Melissa viewed the photos with growing concern, wondering if Martin would get as much enjoyment out of viewing her. She had firm breasts, well-shaped legs and pubic hair that was thick and kinky. Older women should be used for pictures of such magazines, she thought. After all, most of the girls looked like they had never experienced a good fuck and that made her laugh.
She threw the magazine on the floor because she was bored. She went into the bathroom to take a good shower, to wash the stench off the party from her mind and body. She had just emerged from the tub and was toweling herself off when the phone rang.
"Melissa?"
"Yes. Who's this?" The voice sounded like Martin s.
"Martin, honey. I'm calling from the club. I was afraid you would be worried."
The voice was apologetic, not demanding or even irritable. Melissa was puzzled.
"What are you doing at the club?" she inquired.
"We played awfully late. When the game was over, I fell asleep. I woke up about twenty minutes ago."
Melissa listened to the words in complete astonishment. "You played late and fell asleep! Martin, didn't you come home at all last night?"
"I'm sorry, Lissa. The fellows wanted to keep on playing and as long as I was winning, I couldn't refuse."
"As long as you were winning?"
Martin's voice was very exuberant. He sounded happy. "I had beautiful cards, Lissa. I won over a thousand dollars! You know what that means? We can make a down payment on that camper!"
"A thousand dollars!" Melissa blurted. "You won a thousand dollars?"
"Real sweet bread, baby. Every hand was a winner and I couldn't quit."
"I understand, Martin," she said into the phone. "I just wanted to know if you had been home."
"I couldn't, baby. We didn't quit playing until nine o'clock. The fellows insisted they should have an opportunity to win back some of their losses."
"Then you didn't come home at all?"
"No. Why?"
"I thought I heard someone," Melissa lied. "I woke up during the night and when you weren't beside me, I was awful lonesome."
"Sorry, honey," Martin said, apologizing. "Won't do it again. I couldn't pass up winning a thousand bucks!"
"No, of course not, Martin. Are you coming home now?"
"Be there in forty-five minutes. I want to shower first. Get out your cunt towel, honey. I've got a real hard-on for you.
"I'll be ready and waiting," Melissa said.
Thoughts rushed through her mind. Nothing made sense and the more she learned, the less she knew. Martin hadn't come home. He said he played cards all night. That meant he had not invaded the party room and dragged her away from Durant. He had not seen her fucking Durant nor sucking his cock. That part was wonderful and the knowledge lifted a load from her mind. But who had brought her home?
Chapter Nine
Monday morning found Melissa no closer to a solution to her problems than she had been on Saturday. Martin had appeared completely ignorant of her sexual encounters and for that, she was thankful, but she continued to remember a voice-a man's strong voice that was screaming, "Melissa, you little bitch! So this is how you spendyour time when I'm not around!" She could still hear the harsh voice demanding, "What the hell are you doing? Are you holding a fuckathon?"
She purged her brain for an image but none appeared. She couldn't remember, just simply couldn't remember.
Noon came and went and she forced herself to eat, sipping coffee and nibbling at a green salad. Martin would be late again tonight, he had said. There was a new account to service and Nagel expected him to make a good showing.
By three o'clock Melissa was toying with the notion of going shopping again. Then she remembered she didn't have the keys for her car and that made her feel bad. She decided to call Sandino and have him send her things over to the house. Someone surely must have found them by now.
Sandino wasn't in. The girl at the switchboard took her telephone number and promised to have him call the moment he came in. Melissa said that would be suitable and hung up.
She started to walk away from the phone when it rang.
A masculine voice answered her hello with a warm Salutation.
"Hi, baby."
"Hello," Melissa said again.
"How's your cunt, baby? Still pretty sore?"
Melissa was taken aback and she answered in a state of bewilderment. "How's my what?"
"Your cunt, baby. You know, your gorgeous little cunt."
The voice was cooing in her ear. She was certain it was the same voice she had heard Friday night.
"Who is this?" "Your friend, baby. You should remember." "Sorry, but I don't."
"Don't be like that, baby. You know why I called."
Melissa was becoming irritated.
"Of course I don't know why you called," she rasped into the phone. "Why don't you tell me before I hang up."
"Don't do that," the voice said. "Things would happen you wouldn't like."
"Like what?"
"Like a bundle being sent to your husband's office. I don't think he would like what he found in it."
"What would he find in it?" Melissa asked suspiciously.
"Clothing. ... keys. He might want to know where they came from."
"Where would they come from?"
"Your little orgy room at the country club. You remember that, don't you?"
"Oh God."
The man at the other end of the line chuckled. "You do understand, don't you, baby?"
"Yes," Melissa agreed reluctantly. "I understand."
"That's the mason I called you, baby." "To tell me you have my clothes?" "Right-and to tell you to come after them." "Why should I. Why don't you send them to me?" "I'd rather have you over here." "Why?" she asked.
"That's the trip, baby. You come over here and we will have our own little party."Melissa squeezed the phone. "Doing what?" "Fuckin', baby. Just good old fuckin'." "Why should I fuck you?"
"Because I say so or daddy gets the bundle. Understand?"
Melissa did understand, only too well. The man on the phone had her by the short hairs. "When do you want me to come?" There was another chuckle.
"Now, baby. Right now. I've got a big stiff cock and want you to play with it."
"No!" Melissa said.
"Yes, baby," the voice insisted in a firm tone. "Right now."
Melissa knew it was useless to argue.
"I'll do it," she promised. "Where are you?"
He gave her the name of a motel.
"Take a cab, baby. Have the driver bring you up to the driveway and you walk in from there."
It took the cab only a few minutes to whisk her to the motel. Melissa paid him and walked briskly toward the room she had been directed to. She was almost afraid to knock when she reached the door.
The young man who opened the door looked vaguely familiar. His dark collar-length hair looked freshly combed and brown eyes looked at her from behind a faint smile. "Hello, Melissa," he said. He stood back so she could enter the room.
She stepped inside, peering into the face, aware that they had met before and recently. Then he grinned and the image was burned into her mind. Yes, she had seen him before. A young man in a limousine. This was the driver who had picked her up for Sandino's party. Melissa paused just inside the door and returned his greeting.
"Well," she said. "I certainly didn't expect you."
"Small world," he said casually.
She had to agree that indeed it was.
Now that she was face to face with the man, he didn't seem all that terrible. She gave him a big smile, a flash of teeth and said thanks.
"It was nice of you to get my things," she beamed. "I was worried."
She glanced casually about the room, noting the shoddy furnishings and the dirty drapes.
"I'll take my things now," she suggested.
He moved back from the door and pushed it shut. Then he stood looking at her.
He said, "You're funny."
"You did say you had them?"
He nodded.
"Then if you give them to me, I'll go back home."
His answer was another amused chuckle. "Why the big rush, baby. We haven't become acquainted yet."
Melissa gestured and gave a shrug of her shoulders. "I'm not sure that I want to."
His smile became bolder. "You will, baby," he promised. "When I push my prick into your slippery little cunt, you will feel that I'm the best friend you ever had."
Melissa frowned. "What makes you think I want your prick in my cunt?"
"That's what it was made for, baby. Women were made to fuck and men are supposed to do the fucking. Take your clothes off and we'll get down to business."
Melissa shook her head. "I don't fuck men who force themselves on me!"
He was amused and showed it.
"Then lay down on the bed real quiet and I'll just push my prick into you. There isn't any reason to be unhappy when there is so much pleasure to be shared."
She moved uneasily. "And if I don't?"
"I may have to slap you around a little bit but you'll come around to it."
"You touch me and I'll scream!"
"Nobody cares. This motel is full of whores who scream. No one pays any attention to them."
"I could just walk out," she suggested.
He nodded in the affirmative. "Sure you could, but the bundle would go to your husband."
"And if I stay?"
"After I'm through with you, you can go any time you please," he promised.
Melissa set her lips and stared at his tanned face. "What do you want to do first?"
He grinned deeply and licked his lips. "Get your pants off. I've got a great big cock for you to play with."
It was so easy to undress that Melissa marveled at her own casualness. Only a few minutes before, she had feared this man and would have refused to remove even her blouse, but now she was slipping out of her bed, waiting and watching. She tossed her panties aside and stood before him naked and beautiful.
He liked her. She could tell by the way his eyes did the slow crawl, moving his gaze up from the patch of hair at her cunt, to the nipples of her firm round breasts. She would have to do what he desired, and perhaps she did owe him that much. After all, he had taken her away from an old man whose only interest in her was to find out how many positions she could get into and still make her cunt accessible to his cock. This man had taken her home, put her to bed and, in spite of the fact she had been naked, hadn't attempted to fuck her then.
"Why didn't you?" she asked suddenly.
He gave her a puzzled look. "Why didn't I what?" he asked back.
"Fuck me after you put me to bed?"
His grin came back and he didn't look so threatening. "You were spaced out, baby. There isn't any fun in fucking a woman who's out cold."
"You could have stayed until morning and fucked me then."
He shook his head. "Not after all the booze and pot they gave you. A man never wants to fuck a sick complaining woman."
Again, she had to admit that he was right.
As the fear of him ebbed from her thoughts, her mind began to accept the situation. She was here and she couldn't leave. Not until he had finished fucking her and was satisfied. Her face became set with a determined smile.
"Let's get on with it," she suggested.
His fingers unbuttoned his slacks. "You're going to get it, baby," he said.
When he opened the fly of his trousers, the white of his Jockey shorts was visible and a round bulge began to protrude. Melissa watched breathless as he pulled the zipper down, releasing the bulge, bringing it into full view. He looked so strong, so virile, so absolutely handsome that she could no longer associate him with the voice on the phone.
"It must be beautiful," she whispered.
She went down on her knees, grabbed the bulging fabric, rubbing her fingers over it, fondling, squeezing. The bulge began to grow. Her fingers probed for the opening of his shorts, seeking to pull that delicious prick free but the cock was pushing at the fabric so that she couldn't find the opening. She clawed at the mound, then, in desperation, grasped the waistband and jerked the garment downward. Her eyes feasted on his big prick as it was uncovered.
His huge prick flopped out, then hung dangling, like some immense sausage. She gazed at it, her lips quivering. She pounced on it, grasping it in her hand, lifting it, directing it between her lips. She was dying to suck his cock, to feel the force of that hot prick in her throat and to taste his hot cum. She knew it was wrong but she did want to suck his cock, then have him push it deep into her cunt.
She couldn't wait for him to undress, she wanted that beautiful cock fucking her mouth now. As her lips closed around his cock, she could see that he was vastly pleased.
Tuesday morning found Melissa suffering from a greater case of confusion and bewilderment than she had felt Saturday morning after she discovered Martin wasn't home. The fact that he seemed to know nothing about her Friday night orgy had lessened her misgivings. Then when Sandino's driver had called and stated ho was the one who had brought her home, it had lifted a load from her mind and reassured her that she was safe from being discovered.
But now she wasn't so certain. Her visit to the motel, her submission to the man she found there, and an afternoon of sexual bouts which could only have come from the foulest depths of a perverted mind, had served only to increase her anxiety. Now she didn't want to remember either him or his actions. She chided herself for giving in to the demanding sexual desires of her own body.
During the course of the afternoon and evening, she had been subjected to every form of sexual involvement that could be thought up by the mind of man. She had sucked his cock, licked his scrotum and even helped the young man undress so she could continue a tongue massage under his balls. All the time, he was licking her cunt and biting her clit. After that, he had decided he wanted a handjob and showed her how to do that. She learned to do a "round the world" which consisted of licking his asshole until he grew another hard-on. Then he insisted on fucking her in the ass. It left her very resentful and unhappy about the experience.
After hours of rolling on the bed, draping herself over chairs and going down on fours like an animal in heat, she had told him it was enough, that she wanted her clothing and was going home.
He gave her an amused grin. "You're funny," he told her. He burst into laughter.
"I'm leaving," Melissa said in a firmer tone.
The man glared at her. "You're going to shit!" he barked at her. "I called you because I want to fuck and that's what you're going to do-FUCK!"
Melissa cringed.
"Please," she begged.
His eyes rolled and he drew his lips back in an evil grin. "Please," he mimicked.
Melissa peered helplessly at the pile of clothing beside the bed. She wanted to grab it, to dress and run, but she knew she couldn't. He would never permit her to dress and she couldn't leave naked. The man had become an animal. She tried to think.
"You can at least let me go to the bathroom," she pleaded.
"Sure, go shit, baby. Then I've got some more hot cock for you."
She reached for the pile of clothing, grasping for the skirt. Immediately he leaped at her. His hand swung around, landed with a loud smack on the side of her face. She rocked back in pain.
"Don't try that on me, you little bitch!"
Melissa fell back on the floor, tears welling up into her eyes. She could see him standing over her, arm raised, as if to hit her again. She raised her hands to shield her face. She began to cry.
Someone rattled the door.
The man turned away. He strode quickly to the door and threw it open. Two men sauntered in. He stood back, waved them inside.
"There she is fellows," he said, with a nod toward Melissa. "Fifty bucks gets you the best fuck this side of St. Louis."
"She really put on a show," one of them said. The driver laughed again -and pushed the door shut. He looked at the two newcomers. Then he grabbed the bills they pulled from their wallets. "She's still got a lot of good cunt left," he said. "Fucking doesn't hurt her any.
One of the men slapped him on the shoulder. "You always was a picker, Bucky," he exclaimed. "This time you really got a lulu."
Melissa grabbed for the bundle of clothing, climbed clumsily to her feet and headed for the bathroom. Bucky leaped in front of her. He jerked her arm and pulled her back to the bed.
"She's full of shit and vinegar," he said, panting. "You may have to hold, her down. What she needs is a good stiff prick right up her ass!"
Strong hands pushed her to her knees and she could see faces milling around her. One man was opening the fly of his pants. His cock flopped out. "I've got a good prick right here," he bragged. "That little ole gal is going to get a real ass-fuckin'."
Both men were undressing and Melissa watched them with tenor-stricken eyes.
Someone was standing over her, staring down at her. She could see a huge bag of balls and a gigantic prick. Then huge hands were forcing her back, flat on the floor. Then he was kneeling over her, thrusting his hand into her cunt while his friends looked on.
"Don't spoil it, Stacy," a voice said. "Make her eat your cock, first, then fuck her in the ass.
She could see the driver, the man whom the others had called Bucky, leaning over her.
"This gal is prime cunt," he said, grinning down at her. "She sucks you off like a saint but her fucking is like being in heaven. Don't spoil things, fellows. This cunt is top choice. Don't waste a load on her ass when she's such a good cocksucker."
Stacy made a face and rubbed his bloated cock. "You let her mouth-fuck you, Marty. Buck can bite her tits and I'll fuck her asshole."
Bucky cackled. "Do it any way you please. For another fifty, you guys can fuck her any way you want."
The third man was standing over her. He appeared to be aiming his prick at her face. "Ill take her mouth," he chirped. "I want to blow her full of good hot cum, My prick is just throbbing for action."
"Then fuck her mouth, stupid," Stacy said.
Melissa heard Bucky laugh and she shuddered. She tried to clamp her mouth shut but a hand at her chin, with fingers pressing her cheeks from each side, forced her mouth open. Marty lowered himself over her and aimed his prick into her oval cavity.
He pushed her hands away and jabbed downward, forcing his stiff prick into her mouth. "You bite me, girl, and I'll put out your eyes!" he threatened. He jammed his cock home, banging it against her throat. He grunted as his cock hit bottom. Then he pulled it back and did it again.
Melissa stiffened, moaned, and tears flowed down her cheeks. She was hurt and humiliated. She wasn't a whore or a paid prostitute. It wasn't right that they should treat her this way. In desperation she lifted her hands and grasped for the man above her.
"You like it, hun?" Marty cried. "Then here's some more cock." He began thrusting with great speed, pumping his ass up and down, driving his stiff prick into her mouth.
"Close your lips tight, baby," he told her. "I'm building a big load for you."
Stacy was working at her buttocks, probing for the hole he wanted to play with. "She's too flat on the floor," he complained. "I can't get my cock in her ass."
Marty grunted, but didn't slow his action. "Then stick it in her cunt, you damn fool," he panted. "I ain't goin' ta spoil this fuck because you ain't got no sense.
Bucky was eyeing the situation, looking for a way to improve Stacy's position. "Stick a pillow under her ass," he suggested. "That always makes fuckin' better.
Stacy found a pillow.
"Raise your ass, girlie!" he bellowed. I want to get a good look at your cunt!"
"Martin, honey, you're a wonderful cocksman," Melissa muttered. "Aren't you tiring, darling?"
Marty glared at Bucky, who was sitting on the floor, squeezing Melissa's tits. "What's this stupid bitch muttering about?" he growled. He stopped fucking for a moment. "She won't hold her lips tight and my cock don't want to come. Can't you do something with her, for Christ's sake?"
Bucky frowned. "You wanted to fuck her that way," he snorted. "If you can't get your load off, that ain't my fault. It still costs you a hundred bucks."
Marty slapped Melissa on the stomach. "Close your mouth, you stupid whore! I want to get junior to pissin like he's supposed to."
"No rough stuff," Bucky cautioned. "This babe isn't from Anderson's."
Marty slowed down. "You mean she ain't a real whore?"
"She's just a friend," Bucky said.
"Then I ain't gonna give you a damn dime! You said you had a gal who could cock suck. This one ain't worth a shit!"
"You blow your rocks and give me the money or you might find yourself at the bottom of the bay!" Bucky pointed an accusing finger at Marty. "Don't pull a rip off on me or you're dead!"
Marty said, "Oh shit!" He started jacking up and down again.
"I love the way you fuck, Martin," Melissa moaned. She tried to move her head but the prick in her mouth held her fast. "Can't we stop now? You must be very tired."
Marty slapped her on the cheek. "Shut up you stupid slut! Ole junior is building up a wad and you're going to get it."
He braced himself on his arms while he fucked up and down, ramming his throbbing cock into her mouth.
"Oh Jesus, baby," he gurgled.
"Here comes a hot batch!"
He grunted. "Jeeesssuuus!" He jabbed his flaring cock deep into her oral throat cavity.
"Take it, you fuckin' slut!" he bellowed. "Have a mouthful of cum!"
Stacy was attempting to force his inflated cock into her cunt. "This is a hell of a mess," he complained. "This here bag ain't giving me no help at all."
Bucky stopped squeezing her tits and glared at Stacy. "Then get your goddamn cock outta her ass and get the hell outta here! Her husband will be here to get her in about ten minutes."
"Oh Jesus Christ!" Stacy pulled his cock free from her reluctant cunt.
Marty had removed himself from above Melissa's face and was wiping his cock on his dirty shorts. "It wasn't worth no hundred bucks," he said, giving Bucky an approving wink. "But it wasn't bad."
"Then take your damn clothes and get your ass out of here! I'm leaving for Reno just as soon as I can get to the airport!"
"What about the whore?" Marty cast a satisfied glance toward Melissa. "What you gonna do about her?"
"Her husband can take care of her. I'll call her a cab on the way out."
"Bucky, you bastard!" Marty chirped. "You sure do know how to handle women!"
Then they were gone and the last hours of Monday night were now a memory of pain and discomfort. Melissa remembered climbing to her feet and dragging her aching body to the bathroom, then creeping out into the night. The cab was there, waiting in the driveway entrance and in a few minutes she was home and in bed, throwing herself into the arms of a fitful sleep, beset by dreams of animals and people and she couldn't tell which was which.
Chapter Ten
Her first rational thought was that it was Tuesday morning and she could smell the aroma of bubbling coffee.
She lay quietly, listening for sounds that could tell her that Martin had gotten up and was now in the kitchen making coffee. There were none. She decided to get up.
She padded softly out to the kitchen. A quick glance showed the kitchen to be empty. She felt disappointed though not surprised. It had to be late and Martin had to be in his office by eight-thirty.
A slip of paper on the dinette table caught her attention and she withdrew it from between the knobs of the salt and pepper shakers. The words made her smile as she read them.
Babydoll, Will be home fairly early this
evening. Sales meeting has been changed
until Friday. Will mow the lawn. Love you.
Melissa was confused. The note said that the sales meeting had been postponed and that puzzled her. She hadn't known there was to be a sales meeting. She promised herself to ask him about it when he came home.
During the next two days she became too busy to think about the meeting and Martin made no mention of it.
Wednesday afternoon, a delivery truck delivered a package. It contained her clothing and keys. Melissa was elated. Bucky had lived up to his part of the agreement and that was one more problem taken care of.
By Friday her spirits were soaring and she was looking forward to a very pleasant weekend. Martin had promised to take her to the country club for a round of golf and she was hoping they might meet some new people to play with.
In the morning, he kissed her goodbye at the door, before going out to the car which was idling in the driveway.
"I'll be late tonight, Lissa," he told her, as he leaned down far the kiss. "Stanhope is in from the East Coast and Nagel wants him to meet all the fellows. He's talking about having some drinks after the presentation, then maybe a stag show." He gave her an inquiring glance. "You won't mind, will you, honey?"
She shook her head. "I'll be fine," she lied. "I can read a book or something."
That pleased Martin so much that he gave her another kiss. "Stanhope likes the girls so Nagel will probably have some women in to do a striptease or something. You know how those stag parties are. I may not be home until after three or four in the morning."
"It's all right. I'll watch a late movie, then go to bed."
She watched as he strode quickly in his car, gave a last wave, then drove off to start his day.
At ten-thirty, Lois appeared at the back door. Melissa let her in, prepared a pot of coffee to perk and settled down at the dinette to listen to the latest gossip.
"What have you been up to?"
Lois returned Melissa's smile. "Having fun. Having just lots and lots of fun.
"Tell me all about it."
Lois looked pleased. "J. D. is just having fits," she confided. "He wants to know what I've been doing. I said pestering you."
The statement made Melissa laugh.
She gave Lois a friendly pat on the shoulder, then went to the cabinet for cups. "Then what's making you so happy?"
"Cock, honey. Lots of cock."
"You're still at the massage parlor?"
Lois gave a deep sigh. "I'd die without it."
Lois inhaled the aroma of the coffee, then breathed deep as if drinking in the pleasure of living. "Everything is so marvelous!" she exclaimed. "You wouldn't believe it, Melissa. Life is just wonderful!"
Melissa grinned.
"It's just like a party all the time," Lois continued. "There are all kinds of men and all kinds of fucking. I even did it in a shower once,"
"You're kidding!" Melissa teased. "Tell me."
"He was a nice little guy. He came in, sort of lonely, a bit nervous as if he had never been in a massage parlor. He just sat there looking at me. Finally, he asked if he could take a shower, said I couldn't touch him until he was clean." "Did he?"
"It was wild," Lois said, with a happy nod. "We undressed right there in the shower and when we were naked, he started rubbing my tits and stroking my cunt hair until I got all hot and bothered."
She paused to beam at Melissa. Lois was moving her hands as if drawing a picture from memory. "He was having a terrible time getting a hard-on so I grabbed his cock and played with it. He liked me rubbing it, but when I took his balls in my mouth and licked them, he was really jumping. He was panting like a real hot stud and I was sure we could never make it back to the room. There wasn't room to lay down so I just turned around and bent over. He rammed that cock up my cunt and began pumping like mad. About the fifth push, he came in a big spurt of juice and it was running out of my pussy and down my legs and we had to take a real shower."
Lois burst into a loud, happy laugh. She wiped a tear from her eyes and peered at Melissa. "It was so wonderful. When we dried off, we went back to the room and he ate me like he was starving for cunt. Then I got down and sucked his cock. He gave me thirty dollars and I was almost ashamed to take it I was so happy."
For the next few minutes, she listened to Lois' chatter, hearing very little because her thoughts were so mired with other matters. After ten minutes, Lois thanked her for the coffee and conversation and left.
Melissa put the cups in the sink and went looking for Martin's latest girlie magazine. All of a sudden, she was feeling completely bored.
At three o'clock, the phone rang. It was Sandino.
"I've got a problem, Melissa," he told her. "I have a party booked at the club this evening and need some girls to help out. Can you come?"
Melissa shook her head. "Not any more, Mr. Sandino. I'm all through with that."
"It will pay big money."
"Money isn't everything."
"But it won't be like the other parties," Sandino explained. "All you have to do is dance around naked."
"I'm not a dancer.
"You don't have to, Melissa. It would be a treat for these men to just look at you."
"I can't do it," Melissa said firmly. "I'm all through with that sort of thing."
Sandino sounded very disappointed. "Okay," he said in a husky voice. "I was hoping you could help. This is a last-minute reservation and I'm short three girls. I don't know where to find any."
"Too bad," Melissa said.
"I'll give you five hundred dollars."
"NO!"
"Seven-fifty and I'll take you off the hook."
Melissa stared dismally at the kitchen wall. "Off what hook?"
"No more calls, no- more poker. Martin will never know and we will drop him from the garnet"
"And if I don't?"
"What will he think if he suddenly stops winning? What then?"
"I don't know," Melissa answered. "Think about it."
Melissa thought about it. How wonderful it would be! No more poker games, no more call girl parties. All for spending this one last night letting men look at her naked body.
"Promise?" she asked quietly. "No more poker?"
"He's dropped from the games as of right now."
"Thanks," Sandino said. "How about bringing another girl? We can use one.
"Sure," Melissa said, remembering that Lois had said she would be free tonight.
She called Lois. Her neighbor answered after the third ring.
"I just got out of the shower. You know what? I was looking at myself in the mirror," she confided. "I don't look bad for little old mousie me." She laughed softly. "What can I do for you, honey?"
Melissa explained the call, and asked if she was interested. Lois was and that pleased Melissa. She told her to be ready at eight-thirty and she would pick her up.
"What should I wear?" Lois asked.
"Very little," Melissa said in a vein of humor. "You'll probably have to take it all off before the night is over."
Lois' reply exploded in the earphone. "Oh honey, that's marvelous. I've always wanted to attend an orgy!"
It was almost nine o'clock when she nosed the Mustang through the gate of the country club. Sandino had stated it was a late party and would be held in the large meeting room at the back of the building.
Sandino met them just inside the door. He viewed Lois with extreme pleasure and gave her body slow appraisal.
"Very nice," he said to Melissa. He led the way down the hall to the arched door of the large meeting room.
"Jim will tell you what to do," he stated. He pointed out a man in a gray business suit. "He's handling the entertainment schedule for tonight."
Melissa nodded.
"It will be a few minutes. Some of the fellows are here but the special guest and the big wigs are a little late."
"We'll mingle a little and get the feel of the group," Melissa said. "That always helps when the real party starts."
Sandino was pleased. He gave Lois another appraising stare, lingering on the thrusting curves of her full breasts, then slowly descending to her crotch. "Nice," he said. Then he left.
Melissa chose a chair along the wall, motioned to Lois to do the same and settled back to await whatever was to happen. Other girls were arriving. Young college types. Blondes and brunettes, with long hair and see-through dresses. Typical of the Coke and hamburger set. Faces free of make up and bold eyes that appeared to take in everything.
A young man followed them about the room, aiming a Polaroid camera and snapping pictures. Melissa watched, amused. It looked like the party would be very tame.
The guests were making faces at the camera and laughing hilariously at the results. The amateur cameraman wanted more.
Two of the young girls drew his attention, smiled warmly. He moved over to them, said smile, then snapped their pictures. The girls thought it was great fun. The cameraman thanked them and moved on. He was apparently becoming bolder, asking other girls to pose, instructing them to lift their skirts so he could see their legs. When they obliged, he smiled happily and snapped away. He approached Melissa.
"Let me take some good pictures of you," he suggested. "A couple of shots?"
"How?" Melissa asked suspiciously.
The young man pointed to a chair. "Sitting over there?" He squinted through the viewfinder, studying the chair, then added, "Maybe you could pull your skirt up so can get some leg."
Melissa nodded pleasantly. "I could even take it off," she suggested with an amused smile. "That would really give you a picture."
The young man stared at her wide-eyed. "Gosh! Would you?"
He was pleading with her and she felt a sense of shock to discover he believed what she had said. She felt guilty for having said it.
He was still staring at her, his fingers clamped about the camera. He appeared very serious.
Melissa felt sorry for him. He was a good-looking kid and absolutely harmless-looking. What harm could there be? It was obviously a new camera and he was very enthusiastic about it. He looked so honest and the other girls were making such a big thing of it. They were watching them and Melissa heard one girl snicker.
She said, "Sure." She went over and sat down in the chair, settled back, crossed her legs and sought a pose of casualness. She could see he was disappointed.
"I meant without... "He faltered, then started over. "You said..."
Melissa shrugged. "Why not?" She smiled. "If you want it that way." She got up, unfastened the button at the waist of the skirt, unzipped the short opening and pushed the garment down her hips. The dark vee of her pubic hair was visible through the thin fabric of her panties.
The young man beamed, realizing this was just for him. He aimed the camera. Flash bulbs burst with brilliance as he continued to shoot. All the while, he was panting and muttering, "Oh gosh, oh gosh."
He stopped shooting only when he ran out of film.
"Now, without your pants," he suggested. He slipped another pack of film into the camera and looked inquiringly at Melissa. "Just a couple shots?"
Melissa gazed into his anxious face. He looked so young, so innocent, like he had never seen a naked woman before, let alone photograph one. She shrugged. What the hell? She was getting in a party mood. She had gone this far and one more little picture couldn't make that much difference. The men m the room, would be watching her dance naked in a few minutes so what difference could it make? She pushed her panties down her legs and stepped out of them.
"The blouse?" he asked hopefully.
The blouse was removed and dropped to the floor.
The camera clicked and a picture emerged. She made another pose and it clicked again. More poses, more pictures. Men were gathering around to watch the action.
"Take one of Jimmy," someone said.
The young man put a new film pack in the camera. "Would you mind?"
Melissa shrugged again. "Why not?"
The man in the gray suit was coaxed into the center of the rapidly growing circle of watchers. He smiled at the camera. Instantly a hubbub of voices echoed in the room.
"Without your clothes! Without your clothes!"
One of the Coke-set girls reached for his belt and unbuckled it. Other girls gathered around him, removed his shirt, pulled his pants, spirited his clothing away. When they were finished, he was naked.
He gave Melissa a feeble grin.
Melissa viewed his cock with a feeling of growing excitement. It looked so shriveled, so hidden under a toll of loose skin that completely covered End of it. She forced her face into a casual smile.
"Think nothing of it, honey," she cracked. "The night's still young."
"Stand closer together, closer together," the young man urged.
Click."Now, embracing!" Click. "Rub her tits!" Click."Finger her cunt!" Pause. "Ah come on. No one will know." "You won't show anyone else these pictures?" "Of course not." "Oh, all right."Click.
The pictures were being passed around. Giggles and loud chuckles punctuated the cries of the delighted viewers.
"Have her hold his cock," came a suggestion. Jim glared in the direction of the voice. "Maybe she don't want to."
The cameraman looked boldly at Melissa. "'Course she does. Don't you?" He waited a few seconds for an answer, then repeated the question, "Well, don't you?"
"Sure," Melissa said. She grasped his limp prick, worked it gently with her fingers. It began to swell, stretching outward and down, the head peeking out of the shroud of skin. It was growing bigger, forming a curved, sausage-like shaft. Then it hung dangling at an angle. Melissa rubbed it gently between her fingers. She could see couples in the crowd start to undress, begin to feel and fondle each other.
"Put it in your mouth!"
She went down on her knees, placed her lips over the swollen shaft.
Click.
"Now pretend like you're gonna fuck her!"
Jim placed a nervous hand on Melissa's shoulder. "It's up to you."
"Sure," Melissa said again. "Why not? This is my last party."
He waited bashfully, as if waiting for someone to tell him what to do. Melissa leaned against one of the large upholstered chairs, grasped the back and bent over so that he could pretend he was penetrating her from the rear. He had a beautiful hard-on and it would be a delightful experience, if he didn't funk out before they made a connection. She waited patiently.
She could hear his heavy breathing behind her, then an arm circled her waist and something soft was rubbing in the lips of her pussy. She caught her breath, waited for him to continue whatever he intended to do.
The man called Jim thrust a finger into her cunt, worked around the lips, then massaged her clit. Melissa felt a tremor go through her body as the tiny nub came alive. She realized that suddenly she wanted this man. Twinges of pleasure erupted from her clitoris. Her cunt was becoming hot and wet.
"Oh God!" she whispered. "Stick your cock in me.
Someone applauded. She heard the click of the camera. The kid was taking pictures of Jim fingerfucking her cunt.
There was loud laughter.
"Lick her cunt, Jimmy!"
Melissa spread her legs as she felt the man behind her change position. He was settling down, then she felt his body squirm between her legs and the soft tip of his tongue worm into her cunt. He lapped it softly, moving around the gentle lips, lapping up her sweet cuntjuice. The camera was clicking away.
Melissa was becoming hot. She didn't want to play any more. She wanted to be fucked and she wanted this man to do the fucking.
"Stick your cock in me! Fuck me!"
The licking stopped.
"Go ahead! Fuck her, Jimmy!" Screams of pleasure swelled in the room. "Give her ass a good workout!"
More wild clapping. Something hot touched her cunt. It worked slowly between her cuntlips. Jim pushed hard and the hot shaft of his prick slithered up her hot cunt.
Click.
"That-a-boy, Jimmy! Fuck the shit out of her!"
Hands grasped her body at the hips and sharp nails dug into her tender flesh.
"Give her all you've got, Jimmy! Fuck her teeth out!"
Jim was fucking in and out, hampered by the fact he was so tall that he had to spread his legs wide in order to lower his groin to the same level of Melissa's cunt. He was breathing hard. His groin smacked repeatedly against her ass and his hard cock was buried deep in her slippery cunt. Melissa was loving it."Harder," she coaxed. "Fuck harder!" Click. "Sonofabitch!"
"Don't worry about him!" Melissa snapped. "Give me some good cock!"
"You'll get it, baby."
He was grasping her hips tight in order to steady himself and get the leverage to jam his cock into her pussy. He was cursing under his breath. "God damn, oh God damn."
Melissa lowered her head, straightened her legs, raising her ass, making her cunt more accessible to his prick. He was fucking in and out like a clamoring piston and with each thrust her cunt began to tingle. She felt like his cock was beating in her belly and only his stream of hot cockjuice would soothe the pain of her cunt."More," she pleaded. "More!" "Shit, baby. You'll get more." "Oh God, that good!" Click."THAT DIRTY SONOFABITCH!"
"Forget that asshole!" Melissa snapped. "Just think about fucking my cunt!"
He slapped her ass with his groin as his prick began to flare, fucking rapidly and panting.
"Jesus," he muttered as the explosion began to trigger. "Oh Jesus, here it comes!"
He opened his mouth. "AAAHHHHH!"
His cum shot from the head of his cock, flooding her cunt. It seeped past her cuntlips and ran down his cock, onto his balls and dripped to the floor. Melissa waited patiently for the last drop of cum to ooze into her vagina, then she pulled free and straightened up. She turned and looked into Jim's contented face.
"Now, you super stud. Lick my cunt!"
He got down on his knees, grasped her thighs and began lapping the wet flesh of her pussy. Click. Click. Click.
Melissa came back from the bathroom fully aware that she had made a complete ass of herself by permitting the kid to take pictures of her. One thing had led to another until the situation had gone so far that there was no turning back. From holding hands, they had progressed to feeling cocks and cunts, then rubbing cocks and cunts, then sucking cocks and cunts. It was inevitable that the next step would be fucking. An actual fucking scene which was photographed happily by the man with the camera.
Now she felt like a fool.
Girls were dancing in a circle. They had removed their long dresses and were topless. Tiny string bikinis barely covered their pert little pussies. They were prancing about, pausing before some of the guests and bending down so that they could feel their tits.
A chair shuffled uneasily and a voice complained, "Ah hell, take that damned thing off!"
Melissa smiled as she watched. The girls were so young, so inexperienced. Simple college girls who thought it perfectly logical to fuck their dates if they bought them a Coke and hamburger, yet thought that prostitution was terrible. Still wet behind the ears but quick to tell society how the country should be run. Poor dears. They had so very much to learn.
She settled down in a chair to watch the action, wishing she had a good drink and a cigarette. She shifted her gaze slowly around the room looking for Lois. It would be nice to have a drink and a cigarette together.
Two men were setting up a portable record player. Melissa watched. The record player looked so small.
When they were finished, one of the men looked her way, said something to his companion, then headed for her. Melissa viewed his approach with uneasy reluctance. She felt awkward sitting there completely nude.
"The guys want to play games," he said breathlessly. "Would you mind joining in?"
Melissa thought it over for a moment.
"What kind of games?"
The man nodded his head in an impulsive gesture; "The kind of games guys dig at this sort of thing. Will you do it?"
Melissa was amused. "Sure," she answered. "I'd love to."
He gave her a big grin. "Thanks. The guys wanted to be sure you were in," he said.
Melissa asked him for a cigarette, put it to her lips and leaned forward so he could light it. Her tits were boldly apparent as she raised her arm. It failed to bather him.
"Thanks," she said. "I could also use a drink."
He promised to send her one and hurried back to the record player. Lois was nowhere in sight.
She puffed on the cigarette, watching quietly as the girls formed a small circle. They stood facing outward. Men were removing their clothing, facing them. Then, as if on signal, each girl removed her bikini bottom. The men beamed happily and gazed longingly at their pussies.
Melissa was bewildered.
Music swelled from the record player. The men shuffled sideways, moving around the inner circle, their pricks bobbing with the motion. They peered at the girls. The man at the record player lifted the needle arm. The music stopped. The circling stopped.
Melissa was finding the game intriguing. It was a game of musical chairs. She could see that each man faced a girl except one, he stood alone and the man at the record player called him from the circle. He left reluctantly, then became joyous when a girl was also eliminated from the game. They gasped hands and moved away from the group, seeking out a secluded corner where they immediately launched into sex games of their own. Melissa could see the girl, down on her knees, fondling his stiff cock, then take it in her mouth and proceed to give him a blowjob. She still couldn't see Lois.
Melissa yawned with bored indifference. She assumed she should join the group; men were already casting glances at her, straining to see her cunt. What she craved was excitement and what she was getting was boredom. She would have to join them, there wasn't anything else to do. First, she was going to have that drink.
The small bar was deserted but an ample supply of whiskey remained visible. Melissa helped herself to a bottle, poured a large amount into a water glass and added ice. Then she carried it back to where she had been sitting.
The man from the record player was waiting for her.
Two more men had arrived. Would she join the circle? She would and did. The music started again as she sank down on the soft carpet and blurred faces moved around and around. She tried to focus her vision on the faces but the lights were too bright and all she could see were blobs.
The music stopped.
"Suck!" someone shouted.
A massive, cock was thrust into her face. She winced, then opened her mouth and let it touch her tongue. It felt soft and warm and, having touched it, she wanted more. She closed her lips about the taut flesh and rubbed it gently with the tip of her tongue. The music started, the cock was pulled free of her lips and the outer circle moved again.
Melissa muttered, "Damn."
Two more rounds of music, two more cocks thrust into her mouth. Two more hasty retreats and the moving circle became smaller and smaller. Melissa was becoming excited.
The next time, the music was on longer, the circle moved slower. When it stopped, anxious hands grasped protruding pricks and thrust them into wet mouths. Melissa grasped the dangling cock that paused before her and closed her tongue round. Nothing was going to stop her from sucking out some of that sweet cockjuice that she was craving so strongly. She pushed the hard shaft deep into her throat, closed her lips about it and began to suck. God, it was good.
"Take it easy, baby," a voice said humorously. "We've got a long night."
Melissa peered up at the face above her but it was only a dark shadow. She said, "Oh shit!" She released the prick.
"Jerk him off, baby," someone suggested.
Melissa grasped the dangling cock again.
"That's it, baby. Give him a handjob."
Melissa winced. "No, damn it!" she snapped. "Let him jack himself off!"
A man laughed harshly. "That's the ticket, lover-boy! Go fuck yourself in the bathroom."
"No!" Melissa cried in an outburst of irritation. "I want to see him do it!"
"That's the thing, lover boy. Jack off for the little lady!"
Angry voices cut them short. "Get on with the game! We have some loaded cocks too."
The music started, the circle moved on.
Melissa was beginning to feel cheated. It was frustrating to have so many beautiful pricks thrust into her mouth and not having the pleasure of sucking them. She decided to rebel. The next one would be hers, she promised, even if she had to bite it off to keep it.
The music stopped.
A hairy scrotum dangled in front of her eyes and a long hard prick aimed at her mouth. She opened her lips to take it in, reminding herself that this cock was going to bring her pleasure. No puffing free, no moving on. This would be hers to nuzzle, to fondle, to suck dry of cum.
"You're out!" a voice cried. "Remove yourself from the game!"
She glared in the direction of the voice. "Oh shit!" she blurted.
A hand grasped her arm, tugged her to her feet. "Come with me, honey. Let's go fuck!"
She wasn't certain she wanted to go but she went, following the arm, moving away from the circle of men, from the excitement and away from all those beautiful cocks. She was mad.
The hand guided her around bodies fucking together, embracing, making passionate love. Couples were occupying any open space they could find on the floor, fucking hard and fast. All of the losers were pairing off becoming lovers, fucking and sucking. What a beautiful game, she thought.
"We can stop here," the voice said.
The tugging hand stopped and move to her shoulder. She could feel the brush of a warm body beside her, but she didn't want to look at her partner. It was more fun this way. She settled down as the hand pushed on her shoulder.
She sat down on the rug, then lay back, lying flat on the soft plush rug. She could feel the touch of his fingers on her stomach. She wouldn't look, she would prefer not to know, then she wouldn't have to feel guilty because she was giving in, because she was going to permit a stranger to play with her cunt and fuck her if desired. If she was to be fucked, then she would be fucked, but she wouldn't have to watch the man while he was doing it.
"Go on, fuck me," she chided. "I know this is the way the game is played and I promised to play the game."
"Nice girl," the voice said.
She felt the fingers on her stomach move downward, seeking the hair of her pussy, twisting it, pulling gently, like Martin used to do. She thought of how nice it would be if it could be Martin, if he was only here and he was the man who was fucking her.
Something soft touched her wet cuntlips and she felt the knob of his cock brush the hot skin. She spread her legs, opening her cunt wide, begging for the hot stiff cock to fuck her.
"Here it comes, baby," the man said.
The pressure increased, there was a brief pause as he rubbed the head of his cock in the wet pussyjuice. Then she felt it slither up into her pussy.
"I love you, Martin," she whispered. "Fuck me, darling, like I've never been fucked before."
"Yes, baby," the voice said.
The sound of the voice ripped at her memory. She opened her eyes. She looked at the face above her. "Martin? Is that you, Martin?"
"Yes, Lissa. It's me."
"Oh my God, Martin!"
"It doesn't matter, Lissa. I'm here and I'm going to fuck you!"
It was Martin, he was here and he was going to fuck her.
"Yes, Martin! Please," she begged. "Fuck me, darling!"
"I knew you would be here, Lissa," he explained in her ear. "I wanted you to come.
The last five words burned in her brain. He wanted her to come. He wanted her to be a part of the stag party. "Oh God, Martin!" she cried. "Why, darling? Why?"
"To prove I love you, baby. Sandino told me how he forced you. I took you away from the other party. I just wanted you to think it was Buck."
It was too much. She couldn't think of all those things right now. She tried to explain. "Sandino ...Bucky...he...he. . ."
"I know, baby. I know all about it. It won't happen again."
"Oh God..." she moaned.
"It doesn't matter, darling," Martin assured her. "I love you. I want you even if I have to share you with other men."
He had to stop talking because he had pulled his cock from her hot cunt and was now down pushing his face into it. She could feel his tongue in her pussy, licking the hot juice. It curled into her wet cunt, flicked at her clit.
"But I want you for myself," he added. "Just for me."
"Oh yes, darling!" Melissa moaned. "You silly, marvelous, wonderful guy! Take me, Martin! Eat my cunt and tell me again of your love. I love your cock. I want to take it in my mouth, in my cunt, even in my ass. I want only you, darling!"
Beautiful things were happening in her body and she realized it was Martin who was causing them. She liked what he was doing and wanted more. She wanted to feel his stiff prick pumping in and out of her cunt, slapping her belly at every thrust. She wanted to feel his teeth on her tits, to know that he was making love to her because he loved her. He said that it didn't matter if he had to share her with other men, that he still loved her.
"Oh, Martin, darling! Oh, I never have to do that again. I love you! I want only you, darling! Rick me, sweetheart! Make me come with happiness!"
Then suddenly, she realized that he was fucking her. He was arched over her, his face only inches from her head, his breath warming her cheek. He was fucking her as she had never been fucked before, his gouging prick slapping against her pussy, waking her to a new plateau of pleasure.
"Fuck me, honey!" she cried. "Fuck hard! Oh Martin, fuck me hard!"
Her head was on the soft rug and she could feel her body rebound after each slamming thrust of his pumping cock. It was marvelous, so delicious. She thrashed her head back and forth, driven by the mounting pain, hoping it would never stop."Oh Martin! OHHHHH! MY CUNT! OHHHHH!"
She felt him flop down flat, his arms tight about her waist, his mouth at her ear. He was cooing, grunting, making sounds of pleasure. "OoooohhAhhhhh-Ohhhhh-Ahhhhh-uhllhh-uhhhhh. Oh Jesus!"
His hot cock was fucking in and out of her grasping cunt and at every thrust, her cuntlips became tighter, closing down around his stiff prick, preparing to suck every drop of cum from his cock. His groin was smacking her ass in a rhythmic cadence. Smack, smack, smack! She could feel the warm sweat forming above her pubic hair. It trickled down over her slit and ran along her cunt. The odor of her hot cunt wafted to her nostrils, bringing her to a higher state of excitement and passion.
She wanted to slap him, to bite him, to do anything to hurt him because he was hurting her. Hurting her and making her like it.
She was being fucked to a new height of pleasure. Then, something exploded within her cunt and the hot fluid began to trickle around the lips of her pussy.
"It's so wonderful, Martin," she whispered. "So absolutely wonderful."
She lay for a moment, still and gasping, attempting to focus her eyes, to see what was going on around her. She found herself staring at a scene which was like so many she had been involved in.
Lois was there, down on her knees, clutching Nagel's balls in both hands, her mouth enveloping his cock. As she sucked on the shaft, her fingers worked on his scrotum, kneading his balls, massaging them, bringing them to a fuller life.
Nagel was arched back, head up, his eyes closed, a smug smile on his face. It was easy to see that Lois was in the depths of ecstasy and needed help from no one.
Melissa sighed, grasped Martin around the neck, pulled him down and kissed him.
"I lost all your money, Lissa," she heard him say. "Now they can't ever make you do their bidding again."
Melissa kissed him again. "Let's go home," she pleaded. "I want to take a bath, put on some perfume, then I want you to lick my cunt while I give you the best blowjob you ever had."
