Larry knew he could not go much longer. He had never been blown so fully, so deeply, by a woman so willing to please his imagination as well as his body. His balls were quivering in her soothing hand, aching with the giant load that would soon burst forth.
"Up, wench!" he yelled, sliding his prick from her mouth. "You're shown your devotion, now you must please me. You must obey the king's wishes." And he pulled her to her feet.
"Whatever my lord wants, is his."
Melissa did not allow one second for their erotic needs to diminish. Quickly she walked to the table, planting her feet in a wide stance. She gathered the dress in both hands, lifting it high above her waist, and lowered her upper torso down onto the table.
"Take me into your service, my king."
He nearly collapsed at the sight of her wet, seething cunt begging him from below her beautiful, bare ass. He stepped over, and guided his iron-hard meat towards her cunt, nestling the hot, flared tip into her pulpy labes.
"My lady knows well the king's needs."
He was barely conscious of pushing. It seemed more like her wanton cunt sucked the full length of his massive tool up into her juice-soaked channel. He was now a man possessed, grasping her slender hips, and driving his cock urgently into her hot snatch.
She grabbed hard at the table's sides, bracing herself, heaving her body back to meet and return his every lunge. Her own body writhed and churned in agonizing bliss, her tits crushed against the hard wood of the table top.
On and on he rammed, his mind gone, his body lost in the insanity of her tight, sucking sheath. Their groans heaved out from their frantically sweating bodies to fill the air.
It was only a few minutes, but it seemed much longer as the divine bliss flowed through them. Both hung on the edge of explosion, grinding together to stretch this glorious sensation as long as it would go before the final crack.
When it finally came, it swept them both away, their bodies helplessly out of control. Larry's cock burst its cum into her flooding box in violent gushes that collapsed him over her outstretched body. Wave after wave of blasting heat tore through Melissa, leaving her spent in their wake.
And as the shocks subsided, carrying with them Henry and Anne, there was only Larry Roland sighing his appreciation into Melissa's ear, offering her anything – anything she wanted.
Melissa knew what she wanted, and, more importantly, she now knew that she could still get it with the same guaranteed results she had always gotten.
CHAPTER NINE
"Melissa, I love you!"
"No, Darren, it won't work. I know it."
Melissa was on the verge of tears. It was hard on her. It did not happen often, but whenever she fell in love, it was difficult. And Melissa was definitely in love.
The network people had handed her the job on a silver platter and, with it, one month to get settled in New York. This first week she spent with Darren, their relationship assuming, almost instantly, that same closeness that had existed in Chicago.
And now she was in love. There was no way for her to deny it any longer, and he apparently felt the same way.
"Look, it's ridiculous for you to get your own apartment," he said. "I want you here with me. I love you, and I know you feel the same about me. I know you want to stay here."
"Yes! I want to, but I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because every time I've tried it, it fails. Oh, sure, the guy accepts my bedroom interviews at first, but sooner or later he always goes over the deep end."
The frustration was obvious on Darren's face. "What do I have to do to prove to you that I don't care? Who you sleep with has nothing to do with my loving you. We've both been around and back again too many times to be hooked on sexual infatuation or possessiveness. What can I do to show you?"
"I don't know… Nothing, I guess. Look, I've got to think. I'm going to take a walk, okay?" Melissa walked to the closet, quickly grabbing a jacket, and headed for the door.
"Just one question, Melissa. Do you love me?"
"Oh, Darren… you know I do." And she walked out the door.
Once on the street, the thoughts tumbled in her head. She was confused. She did not know what to do. She wanted more than anything to live with Darren, but that fear, that nagging fear of his inevitable jealousy, told her it was impossible.
"Maybe," she muttered, "just maybe he would be different." But the idea just would not sit easy in her feelings. She walked for several hours, not seeing anything, just walking, before she finally returned. Nothing had been settled.
"It's about time you got back," he laughed, his voice surprising her with its gaiety. "You'd better hurry. The party starts in an hour."
"What party?"
"I've invited a few friends over I want you to meet. Thought it'd help us get our mind off things."
Darren was scurrying around the room in preparation and Melissa headed for the bathroom. Oh, well, she thought, maybe it would be good to stop thinking about it so much. Melissa spent the next hour getting ready, and by the time the guests came she was in very good spirits.
The first to arrive were Mark and Mary Ann Barnstall. Melissa greeted them warmly, and no sooner were they settled in their chairs than Jeff and Ernestine Rogers appeared. Darren made the introductions, and soon everyone was seated around the room, drinks in hand.
The first part of the evening was dominated by Mark and Jeff. Mark, it turned out, was an aspiring young comedian. He was a young man with a boyish all-American look, and an expressive face that kept everyone laughing as he traded jokes with Jeff. Jeff was a full-bearded man with less clowning vitality than Mark, but as a writer, he possessed a great verbal wit, and matched Mark well in capturing the audience's attention and laughter.
The two men kept at it for a long time. The onlookers responding with more and more appreciation as the drinks began to take their effect.
As the group got drunker, the focus began shifting from the two men to Mark's wife, Mary Ann.
"I'm tired of this shit," she said, showing more of the effects of the alcohol. "I've had enough jokes. I went to move. Let's get less verbal and more physical."
She finally got up and put on some music, turning it up to drown out the last of the joke session before grabbing Darren, and pulling him up to dance with her.
Melissa could not help marveling at the girl as she danced around the floor. She was a flaming, red-haired beauty with a shapely, muscular body, and a pair of large tits that rivaled Melissa's in size and firmness. She was a professional dancer, and knew just how to move to exploit the fullest assets of her body.
The mood of the room quickly changed. All eyes were now on Mary Ann. The clipped, erratic sound of laughter yielded to the long sighs of heavy breathing as Mary Ann snaked sensually around the floor, her moves becoming more sexual when she sensed the attention of the room.
"I love to move!" she cried. "I think the human body is the most exciting when it's dancing."
"There's no doubt yours is," Darren said, with Jeff adding, "I wouldn't mind seeing more of it." That was all Mary Ann needed to hear. She began undressing with all the finesse of a practiced stripper. Slowly, carefully, she removed her clothes, exposing each part of her body in a gradual, teasing manner calculated to stiffen the cock of every man in the room.
"A dancer needs to be appreciated," she moaned, now completely naked. "My body is my tool, and I need it to be admired."
She weaved from one person to another, accepting all the appreciation and contact she could inspire. Her dance became an expression of raw, passionate sex as she screamed out her heated lust.
"Dance is life. Dance is everything." Her body dropped to the floor, writhing in rhythmic ecstasy. "The most beautiful dance of all is fucking. The body is its most expressive when fucking, its most graceful, its most satisfied. Dance with me somebody, anybody, dance with me."