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.
He was determined they should marry in the proper way – two virgins ready to sacrifice their purity on the altar of their matrimonial bed. She felt otherwise, but her charms and persuasions barely dented the barrier of his beliefs. In fact, there was only one time that she even came close. It had been a typical date night, ending with a heavy session in Jeff's car. As usual, he kissed and felt up her body to a peak of sexual tension, only to break it abruptly and drive her to the dorm.
This particular evening, however, she had the room to herself. Her roommate had gone home to visit the folks, and Melissa took advantage of it to persuade Jeff to sneak up.
Once in the room their love-play took on a new light. Up until now they were always forced to make out furtively. Always in his car, or a friend's house. Always the danger of discovery.
But suddenly they were truly alone. Free to touch openly. Free to be naked. Under Melissa's subtle guidance they were both shed of their clothes in minutes, spiraling up to a height of passion they had never before shared.
Jeff stared, almost in disbelief, at the perfection of Melissa's body. His hands moved with a mind of their own as they tore at her tits, kneading them, pulling them, his lips moving down to bite at the erect nipples. His tongue swirled around the tiny nubs, flicking, darting until his lips closed in, trying to suck the very life from her beautiful tits.
Now his other hand traveled over her entire body. His fingers played over her warm flesh, memorizing every square inch, until they finally came to rest in the juice-soaked patch of her fiery cunt.
And Melissa was by no means idle. She was staring, for the first time, at his naked cock, the object of so many fantasies and dreams. She grasped it appreciatively, squeezing it, thrilling at its massive width and hardness.
She then began running her fingers up and down its length, tracing the lines of its large, blood-engorged veins, and finally wrapping her hand around its flared and pulsing head. Her hand now stroked the fleshy shaft, her thumb dragging across the very tip as Jeff's fingers rammed harder and harder into her tight pussy.
The sweat poured from their bodies as their manipulations continued on and on, their groans filling the tightly academic surroundings with new life.
At last Jeff was over the brink. No longer in control, he swung his hips into position between her spread-eagled thighs. Melissa's heart soared as she prepared herself for the pain of his entry, but it was not to come.
Almost the second his prick touched the virgin sanctity of her begging cunt, it withered. "An act of God", he called it. She just cried.
Melissa's only satisfaction during the year and a half they were at school was writing, and finger-fucking. Whereas writing had been an alternative to sex in high school, it now became a substitute. She would fill page upon page of her journals with her sexual fantasies, shocking herself with her own frankness and imagination.
It was to her great relief that Jeff finally announced their engagement. He had graduated, and was going to take his internship in Omaha. They were to be married as soon as he settled at the hospital. Melissa could see an end at last to her sexual longings.
But her engagement awakened new frustrations. Her marriage meant quitting school, but this did not bother her. What did bother her was his insistence on a full-time wife. According to him, she was to tend house and raise children, not indulge herself in some career that would drain both time and energy from their marriage.
Finally, she got him to compromise. He was making next to nothing as an intern, and she convinced him it would be necessary for her to take a job if they were to meet expenses. It was in this atmosphere that she went job-hunting. With her marriage four months away, she decided to use the time to sort out her feelings and see where her commitments were.
To her surprise she needed only one day.
She took it as an omen when she got an interview with the first newspaper she tried. Portfolio in hand, she wound her way through the maze of halls and shuffling people, knocking on wrong doors until she found Lester Balinger's office.
Her nervousness and excitement carried her almost unconsciously through the first half of the interview. It was not until he was reading through her portfolio that she calmed down enough to notice the man sitting across the desk from her.
He did not look at all like she had imagined. First of all, he could not have been more than three years older than she was. He had a rugged, chiseled face that appeared even tanner under the careless shock of his blond hair.
Then there was his manner – curt, businesslike, with all the self-assurance authority brings. But most of all, there were those liquid blue eyes planted deep in the shadows of his strong brow.
Those eyes. She could not stop looking at those eyes, even when they lifted.
"It's not polite to stare."
"Am I?" she said, hoping he had not caught the thoughts behind the stare as easily.
"Yes, you are."
"I'm sorry. It's just… well… Oh, it's silly."
"Go ahead. What is it."
"Well… I had no idea what you looked like, but I didn't expect you to look like… you." She blushed as she realized the silliness of the statement.
She was relieved when a large smile broke over his face. "Let me clear something up for you. I'm not Lester Balinger. I'm his son Tom. I'm handling things for few weeks while Dad is on vacation."
Melissa acknowledged her error, and a strangeness filled her as she watched him return to his reading. She began scanning the room, more in an effort to sort out her feelings and avoid staring than to really see anything.
What was this feeling? She was willing to admit that some of it was the excitement of possibly writing and earning money for it. It was something she had wanted for a long time.
But there was also another kind of excitement that was beginning to fill her, and he was responsible. Even though he was nothing more than formal toward her, there was an innate sexuality that seemed to speak to her, confusing her with its intensity. Her mind had difficulty wrestling with these feelings, and she was almost grateful when he spoke again.
"You're a very good writer."
"Thank you," she said, his approval bringing a stronger wave of excitement.
"I especially liked this one piece in here, but I don't know why you didn't finish it." He handed her the sheet of paper.
Melissa could only answer his stare with a questioning look. What was he talking about? They were all finished pieces as far as she was concerned.
Suddenly her heart stopped beating. The blood drained from her face when she realized what she was looking at. One of the pages from her sexual journal had somehow gotten mixed in with her other work, and he had read it.
She quickly looked up, her mouth moving mutely, her mind trying to find some way to explain this paper to him. Any explanation, but the real one – the chaotic ramblings of a frustrated virgin. It would not come.
In an instant the tears of humiliation began to flow. Unable to speak, she grabbed her portfolio and raced to the door, desperate to escape his amused stare.
"Wait!"
He only said it once, but her body obeyed. He walked to her position at the partially open door, and gently closed it.
"I'm sorry. If I'd known you were going to be so sensitive about it, I wouldn't have joked like that. Do you think you can finish the interview?"
For a few seconds she just stood there limply, her face buried in her chest, trying to find the ability to speak. Even now, in the midst of her humiliation, she could still feel that power, that strangeness building, making her unable to answer.
"Look, obviously you're too upset to go on. I'll tell you what. Since it's all my fault anyway, why don't you let me make it up by taking you out to dinner tonight. We can finish the interview then. Okay?"
"Tonight!" she said, shocked by the sudden lightness this idea filled her with. "No… I can't. I'm engaged."
"I'm not asking you for a date. I just want to finish the interview."
On this basis, she agreed.
The day passed quickly, and with it the afternoon's trauma and confusion. Melissa had managed to rationalize all her feelings as that of an awe-struck job seeker developing a premature crush on her first boss, and dismissed the whole thing.
The evening, however, only intensified her earlier feelings. Outside his office, Tom was an entirely different person. He displayed a charm and humor that thoroughly captivated her. But most of all, his sexuality, only innate in his office setting, now became highly overt, infusing her with its power.
In the course of the evening Melissa felt like a pinball machine as she bounced from one emotion to another. It only seemed natural that dinner should extend itself into dancing, and then into drinks. She caromed constantly between her obligations to Jeff, with its accompanying guilt, and the overpowering excitement of Tom, with its awakening of her primal instincts.
It was not until Tom invited her to his house that things reached a peak. He had made the full implications of his offer obvious, and all she could do was stare blankly, her circuits too overloaded with emotions of every kind to seize on any one. All she could do was wait for one to surface. She needed an answer. Where was the answer?
Suddenly she found it, in the very place she had spent most of the evening looking. His eyes.
He looked at her the way a starving man would look at a banquet. They were the eyes of a man seeing a woman, not some horny college kid staring at a potential wife. Suddenly everything was clear.
Her mind now filled with only one thought. What the hell are you doing, Melissa! Here's a man who's willing and eager to give you the two things you want most in life – a job, and sex. And you're confused? Slut! To hell with Jeff and the whole fucking world! I want both, and I'm going to have both.
She had made her commitment, and her whole being suddenly felt free as years of questions and frustrations slipped away. And this commitment held firm, even later, as she sat in the Balinger living room.
The house itself covered several acres of rolling hills on the outskirts of Omaha. The room was spacious and meticulously decorated, but at this point, for Melissa, all that existed was the burning fireplace, the brown velvet sofa upon which she sat, and the large fur rug in between.
As she sat, anticipating the events to come, she was surprised to notice a wave of fear rising with her thoughts. It seemed to stem from the question of her own inexperience. After all, she thought, he was expecting a woman, but was getting a virgin. Would he be upset? Could she please him?
By the time Tom had returned with their drinks, she was determined to find out. She accepted the glass, closed her eyes, took a large swallow for courage, and finally spoke.
"Tom… I think you should know that I've never done anything like this before. I mean, not just being here – I've never done anything."
"I know," he said, smiling at the difficulty she was having. "I knew that the second I read that sex page."
Tom let her wait a second or two before giving his assurance. He was too experienced a lover to allow any fears to get in their way, but he wanted her a little more than just confident. He wanted her excited. He allowed the suspense to build before playing his ace.
"Well… does it bother you?"
"Of course not. I wouldn't have tried to see you tonight if it did. Besides…" a sly smile now crept across his face, "all our employees are virgins."
It took a second, but once she realized his meaning her eyes widened to the size of silver dollars. "I got the job?"
He nodded.
"Oh, my God, I don't believe it! I just don't believe it!"
Her fears vanished. Excitement and gratitude rose in one sudden burst. Her body shook for a moment as she searched for some way to thank him. Then, with all the quickness of impulse, she leaned over and kissed him full on the mouth.
She had meant for it to be a short kiss, but with a quickness of his own, he caught her behind the head, stopping any retreat. He now returned the kiss, his own excitement – different, but just as powerful – entering her through the electric connection of their mouths.
She kissed him, haltingly at first, then more ardently as his fiery tongue filled her with the sweetness of its erotic taste. On and on it swirled, until she found herself sucking fiercely, bringing lingering groans as she tried to swallow the moist organ of flesh.
He now pulled her towards him, locking them in a strong embrace that left the hard bulge of his pants pressed firmly against her thigh. She melted at the feel of his throbbing hard-on through the material. She shivered as the flood of juices began pouring into her open cunt.
Not wasting any time, his hand now reached up, cupping the fullness of her perfect tits in its kneading grasp. A small cry jumped out as a charge of emotion blasted through her body. Its force and suddenness caught her so off guard that her hand shot open, spilling her drink on both of them.
"I'm sorry…" she gasped, trying to catch her breath as she watched the liquid disappear into the fabric of their clothing.
Tom reached over, picked up the empty glass, and placed it on the end table. "I guess we'd better get out of these wet clothes," he whispered.
He was up instantly, but she just sat, too overcome to move. She could only watch as he undressed, the firelight playing across his muscled body.
Sensing her state of mind, Tom walked over, stood before her, and began undressing her. Carefully he pulled the dress over her head. He then unsnapped the bra, and slipped it from her shoulders. He gasped as the vision of the twin mounds, now exposed to his sight, filled his mind with their perfection.
"My God. They're more beautiful than I even imagined." His passion rose as his fingers began to trace the line along the bottom of her tits, meeting to rise up the line of her cleavage, and finally running down the tops to playfully circle the dark nipples.
"Grab them," she said, her voice cracking as the sensation of his fingers pulsed through her.
In answer, he began rubbing, the excitement rising as her tits overflowed in his knowing hands. His thumbs and forefingers pinched and twirled at her nipples, pressing the tiny buds to their full limit.
In the midst of the fondling, Melissa's gaze came to rest on the massive length of his cock, bobbing invitingly in front of her face. It was much larger than Jeff's, and almost menacing in its proud strength. In an almost trance-like way she grabbed the meaty tool and began stroking it with her cheek, her nostrils filling with its musky aroma.
"You're beautiful, too," she mewed. "You're so big and hard. I don't see how it can go inside me, it's so huge."
"Kiss it," he said, his hands still working her swollen tits. "Peel it with your mouth."
She wantonly obeyed. Grabbing his prick with her one hand, she lightly flicked her tongue across the tip, lapping up the tiny trickle of lubricant that ran from it. Quickly her tongue moved over it, waking every inch of its gigantic length with her saliva, as she sucked his cock-head deep into her mouth.
Soon she was tonguing his prick like a woman possessed. She had gotten her first taste of his cock, and she loved it. Her head pumped back and forth frantically as her free hand fondled his bursting ball-sac, the sparsely haired jewels swollen with desire.
Knowing that he would cum in her mouth if she kept up much longer, Tom now popped his bulging prick from her mouth. Quickly he helped her to her feet, removed her panties, and hold her in his naked embrace.
Melissa's breath quickened, her pulse ringing in her cars as she felt his bare cock press against her lower stomach. It seemed almost to burn through her, radiating through her skin to further inflame her seething snatch.
"Take me," she groaned, her body grinding into his. "Oh, God, I want it now. I'm tired of waiting. Make me a woman, Tom. Make me feel like a woman."
His hand snaked its way down to her gushing cunt-lips, and began running up and down its length, pulling the dripping juices out to soak and cud the soft hairs of her pussy.
"Get me wet," he said. "Use your cunt to lubricate my cock. It'll slide in easier."
"Yes… yes, anything!" She lifted up on her toes, parted her legs, and ran the pulsing cock between her thighs.
His prick traveled the full length of her slit, its head projecting out the back. Quickly she began hunching over it, spreading the thick coating of her pussy-cream on his dick, crying out as the throbbing fuck-pole ground against her clit.
"Oh, shit! I want you to fuck me! Stick your big prick in me anywhere! Suck my tongue, suck my tits, suck my cunt! Suck me! FUCK ME!"
Her own words now poured out mindlessly. Those wonderful words that until now she would only use in her journals suddenly flooded out, their own sound sending her over the threshold into that passionate world of abandon.
Judging the time to be right, Tom lowered her carefully to the floor. She released a giant groan as the soft fur of the rug began caressing her body like thousands of soft, tiny fingers.
"Oh, shit yes!" she cried as she felt the hot tip of his prick bump up against the firm guardian of her maidenhead. "Yes… now! Give me your cock NOW!"
Tom thrust firmly against her virgin pussy, jabbing savagely with his huge fuck-pole. On and on he pushed, his cock ripping at the tough membrane of her cherry.
"Damnit!" she screamed. "Oh, God, it's tearing me apart! Stop! It's too big, you'll kill me! Stop!"
But he ignored her, holding her securely about the hips so she could not squirm away from the fiery agony that consumed her. Relentlessly he kept pushing, until suddenly the cunt-lips parted, opening the way for his huge cock.
His left hand now guided the tip of his pulsing meat into her tautly stretched box, pushing it farther and farther in. Repeatedly she called out in protest as the pain of his steadily climbing prick shot through her body.
Then suddenly the pain lessened, and she knew the worst was over. The feel of his balls on her ass told her that Tom's cock had now entered her cunt completely, and she felt relieved as Tom stopped, allowing them to remain motionless for a few minutes. Allowing her time to adjust.
And now a new feeling took over. It was the pain-mingled ecstasy of feeling a stiff cock inside her cunt that filled her with the most insanely erotic sensation she had ever experienced.
Melissa could feel the intense throbbing of the cock inside her cunt as he withdrew it slightly, then pushed it back. He repeated this motion several times until he could feel the tenseness draining from Melissa's body. "Does it feel good now? Is it better for you?" he asked, pulling the sweat-soaked hair away from her eyes.
"Yes. It feels wonderful. It's so good to have you in me. Filling me up with your gorgeous cock."
Her words gave him confidence as he started taking longer and fuller strokes. The initial pain of Tom's penetration was now gone. For Melissa only the ever-growing, intensely exciting sensation of pleasure remained.
"I can't believe it… it's wonderful," she said. "I never thought anything could feel this good."
The tempo of their fucking increased as Tom held on tightly to her hips, guiding her movements to meet each one of his savage thrusts. The sweat flowed from their bodies as their grunts and moans became even more urgent, more desperate, more abandoned.
"Oh, shit!" he cried. "Your cunt's fantastic! It feels like it's trying to swallow me. Shit, I love it!"
"Yes!" she cried, her cunt grabbing at the surging rod. "Fuck me harder! Harder! HARDER!! Fuck my beautiful cunt! DON'T STOP!"
Melissa was in a state of drunken delirium, moaning and groaning as each ferocious thrust racked her body.
At last Tom felt the sperm rising inside his balls, and knew he could not delay his orgasm much longer. He lifted up on his hands, his body arching forward to allow the base of his cock to batter her exposed clitoris, trying to accelerate her climax and make them simultaneous.
The savage pressure of his stroking was all it took to push both of them to the final brink of orgasmic seizure. It came explosively, equally, as Tom released jet after jet of his scalding fuck-cream into her quivering pussy. Melissa's body shook frantically as he filled her tight cunt-hole with his spunk, the flooding juice oozing out of the cock-engorged ring of her pussy to run down the groove of her ass.
As their twisting bodies came to rest, Melissa could find only one thing to say. Barely audible, it came out mingled in the large sigh that escaped her throat.
"Thank you."
As Melissa's mind drifted back to the present, she became aware that the cab was parked – probably for some time – in front of the Hancock Building. She also became aware that her hands had been working her tits and cunt – also for some time – in sympathy with her fond recollection.
Self-consciously, she checked the driver in the rear-view mirror, and was relieved to see his focus firmly rooted on the activities of the street. She exited the cab, and came around to the front window to pay the bill.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked, digging through her purse.
"It's on the house."
Her eyes rose to thank him, but her voice stopped short at the sight that greeted her. He was sitting there leering, as his hand slowly fisted his exposed cock.
"Just let me know your room number and I'll return the favor. After all, there ain't no point in a dame like you just thinking about it, when you can have the real thing."
Melissa was angry. She loved to fuck, but hated to be taken advantage of. "The real thing, huh? I'll tell you what. Bring it along next time, and leave the scale model at home."
She winked, turned, and paraded into the building.