But to her it was more than a mere substitute. It was a friend, a pleasure in its own right, and she loved it.
She ran the head around in her mouth. She almost seemed to be making love to it, allowing her tongue to stroke the tip like a real cock. Her hand reached into her dripping box, pulling out a rich helping of hot juice with which to lubricate the massive shaft.
Satisfied that it was properly primed, Melissa scooted back to lean on the headboard. She pulled her heels clear up to her ass, and spread her legs wide in readiness.
She placed the glistening tip at her cunt-mouth, and pulled it towards herself. Slowly, one inch at a time, it entered, spreading her twat as it climbed the sopping channel of her belly. Her breath came in gasps, her body trembled, as its full width – thick as a man's wrist – tore at her begging cunt-walls.
"Oh, my God… Yes! Fuck, yes! Do it, Pete!" she cried as she finally pulled in the last of its twelve glorious inches. She paused a moment to catch her breath before she began rotating the matchless dildo, slowly at first, then faster, helping her straining muscles to accommodate the bulging plastic dick.
Quickly she returned to her mind-pictures. The actions of her fantasy lover took on the giant proportions of her new attacker. On and on the pictures ran as her body began writhing in sinful, solitary bliss.
Her twisting increased with each thrilling turn of the shaft. Louder and louder she moaned as her passion grew.
Her rotating movement altered, and her hands began to take their own course. Slowly they would pull the artificial cock out of her cunt, then push it in again. Her cunt-walls stretched to their outermost limits, the dildo thrust, poked, driving her thick juices out.
This motion increased, getting faster and faster, taking more of the slippery rod in and out. Her body bucked and heaved as she swallowed the dildo with her burning pussy.
Melissa's mind left her; her body was all that could speak. "God… don't stop! Don't ever stop! I wish this could go on forever. I wish every man had a cock like this. This big… this hard this able to drive me this fucking crazy!"
She now released one hand from the fake cock, freeing it to grab at her swaying tits. She tore at each one, squeezing the nipples until she thought they would bunt. She pulled and pinched, using every bit of self-knowledge to extract the maximum amount of pleasure from what she was doing.
Relentlessly, she kept fucking her cunt, eyes closed, low moans and fast pants emitting from her throat and chest. She felt her climax rising, the sensation filling her body like the predawn light that heralds the arriving sun.
Melissa panted faster and faster, fighting for breath. She stabbed at her creamy pussy, gradually increasing her speed, until her hands were no more than two vague blurs battering away at her twit. Her body heaved wildly, unwilling to control itself.
Finally it broke. At just the right moment she squeezed the dildo's balls, shooting the hot cummy liquid into her match. Her body jolted and convulsed erratically as the mock sperm splashed in the deep inner recess of her scathing cunt.
She continued to squeeze until the balls were empty. Each squirt was timed perfectly to allow the full impact of her climax to course through her. More and more she squeezed, trying against all odds to make the moment last forever.
Her body finally came to rest. Slowly she pulled the dildo from her cunt, and lifted it to her sweating face. She stared at it admiringly, with eyes still glazed from its incomparable pleasures.
Lovingly she brought it to her lips, cleaning it with her appreciative tongue, smelling it, tasting the cream, rewarding it for its efforts. Satisfied that it had been properly thanked, she put Pete back in the case, and returned to her bath.
She settled back in the tub, sharing the sighs of her now satisfied cunt.
When she finished her bath, she dried off and walked to the full-length mirror across from her bed. She casually tossed the towel on the floor as she struck a seductive pose.
"Land sakes alive. You're something else," she giggled as she stared admiringly at her second self.
Melissa had much to admire.
Her thirty-eight-inch tits were firm and erect, standing like twin peaks from her five-feet-five-inch frame. Each was capped with a flaming-pink nipple that stood out proudly against its silver-dollar-sized areola. Her waist narrowed to a perfect twenty-four inches, only to flare out again to a taut, well-muscled thirty-six inches at the hips. Her ass-cheeks hung like two firm cushions and from the side made a perfect half-circle that ran down into two tapered, shapely legs.
All this perfection was capped by a baby-doll face, surrounded by a halo of shining brown hair.
Her pouty lips and soft round eyes gave her a perpetually innocent look that belied the sharp, quick mind it concealed.
She quickly covered the distance to her clothes, and chose what she felt would be the most revealing dress she had. She slipped it on, and returned to the mirror for a second look.
It was perfect.
"Pallbrook, you don't stand a chance."
As she put the finishing touches on, she became aware of the nervousness that was beginning to settle in the pit, of her stomach. A nervousness she had hoped to avoid.
After all, there were no guarantees. She was clever and beautiful, but there were times she had been refused. Besides, even if she did score with Pallbrook, there was no guarantee he would hire her.
"What if I can't pull it off?"
She knew that she had to. She caught her own frozen stare in the mirror as her reverie was broken by the ringing of her room phone.
"Hello."
"Your cab is here, Ms. Dansin."
"Thank you. I'll be right down."
Her eyes went quickly back to the minor. She flashed a large, toothy smile, leaned forward, and planted a large, comic kiss on her own image.
"Melissa, honey, you're going to do just fine."
CHAPTER TWO
The cab poked along through the downtown traffic. As they crept along, Melissa stared at the State Street marquees and cursed herself for not bringing a jacket. She wished she could roll up the window, but the driver's cigar made the cool lake breeze and a few goosebumps seem the lesser of two evils.
"Ain't usually this much traffic," he droned, his voice hitting Melissa's ear with that nasal twang that set Chicago apart from the rest of the Midwest. "Must be something going on at the Auditorium, or maybe up on Rush Street."
Melissa ignored him, preferring silence and her thoughts to his cabbie's gossip. She stared blankly at the evening crowds as her mind jumped randomly from one thought to another, finally coming to rest on the memory of her first job interview. She was suddenly surprised by the similarities. The setting was different, she was certainly different, but the situation was very much the same.
Melissa Dansin was born and raised in Omaha. Her parents were Bible-belt Midwesterners who taught her all there was to know about the sins of the flesh and the blessings of the Good Book. She absorbed this so well that she managed to make it through high school with her purity intact.
She had experimented, of course, but her parents controlled her. Besides this there was her career. She was convinced she was going to be the world's greatest writer.
It was with great reluctance that her parents speed to let her leave home and attend the University of Nebraska. The fact that Lincoln was only an hour away helped to lessen their fears. It was there she met Jeff Rogers, a third-year med student, and fell in love.
With Jeff came all the desires and yearnings she missed earlier. With Jeff also came frustration and restlessness. They both had had the same upbringing, and both had learned the same sexual values. The problem was, he was as totally committed to his as she was willing to abandon hers.