The next six months flew quickly for Melissa, and her reputation as a reporter grew constantly. It seemed like every clay that Pallbrook would receive a phone call, either from someone she had interviewed, or some friend of theirs, requesting that all dealings with the magazine be through Melissa only.
But, it was not just the ones interviewed; the public, too, responded, flooding the office with piles of letters praising the content and pure entertainment of her articles. Her success was complete.
The passing time also brought about changes in her relationships with Bob and Murdock. With Bob feelings only deepened, drawing them closer than ever. He became the brother she never had, and they shared everything, with one exception. Sex.
In the physical sense, they both agreed the friendship was stronger without it. What bothered Melissa was, he would never even discuss it. It was like some secret, some large part of himself that he refused to share with her. He would listen while she talked about it, even adding bits of opinion and abstract knowledge, but he would never be specific in terms of his own sex life. She accepted it, however, preferring not to let it mar the good things they felt for one another.
Murdock was a different story. What had once been only dislike, fanned into hatred as her success aroused in him a new element of fear. He became obsessed with the idea that he could possibly lose his job, and searched for ways to sabotage her seemingly unstoppable momentum.
There was something else about him, too. It had started in him as a suspicion, and day by day built until it was now a maddening certainty. She had only to look in his eyes to understand that he now knew, knew her secret, knew the sexual fountain from which she drew so much information.
It was with this same knowing look that he approached her desk, one day in late February.
"I just want you to know, I've got it figured out, wonder woman," he sneered. "I've finally got your glorious technique figured out."
All of a sudden Melissa felt sorry for him. So what! What could he do? Tell Pallbrook? He knew. Start a scandal? Nope. No proof. She indeed pitied him as she watched him place the brief before her.
"New assignment," he said. "A millionaire recluse. Never sees anybody. Of course I know that doesn't matter; you'll find some flunky to get you in, but in you'll have to get. The closest secretary doesn't know shit. You're going to have to see the top banana personally. Open it up."
As she did, she quickly realized the direction his knowing would take her in, and every ounce of pity drained from her heart.
"That's right, Melissa my dear. Glenda Belson. She's blown into town to exhibit her precious art collection at the Institute, and I think it's only right to put our star reporter on the jab."
"Thanks, Murdock. I appreciate the compliment, left-handed or not."
"That's okay, kid, because this is a woman, the female of the species, and if you do as well on this job as I think you're going to, there'll be plenty more women to see from now on."
As she climbed the snow-covered steps of the Art Institute, Melissa was not really worried by the threat. She knew Pallbrook would never allow it. What consumed her was the challenge. She had to beat Murdock; she couldn't allow him to have even the slightest victory over her.
Once inside, she proceeded immediately to the Morton wing where the exhibit was being put up. She weaved her way through the carpenters and workers, looking for her flunky, someone to serve as the key to Glenda Belson's door.
She was about to give up when she heard a familiar voice.
"Melissa Dansin? Well, you can put these faggot bones to bed, I've seen it all!"
As she turned to see who it was, she was greeted by the sight of a slender figure in wide flare bell-bottoms, a bright floral print shirt covered by a velvet Edwardian coat, and topped by a long knit scarf that circled his throat once, leaving the ends to hang down to his knees. It was not until he started walking towards her in his long, over graceful strides, his arms outstretched flamboyantly, that she recognized him.
"My God! Duane St. James!" she cried, wrapping him in a big hug. "I don't believe it. You look great."
"God love you, I feel like the last chapter of what's the use."
"What're you doing here? You still painting?"
"No, thank God. Once I realized that I couldn't get hired to paint the primer coat on a picket fence, I quit. The whole great-painter routine was my mother's idea anyway."
"Is she here with you?"
"The witch of Endor?" he groaned in exaggerated display. "Noooo! She's still in Omaha devouring peasants. I finally found the courage, and minced my way to New York. You're looking at a respected gallery owner."
"Really?" she laughed. "Do you like it?"
"Oh, honey! I'm an international figure. I mean I can recognize great art, even if I can't produce it. I get invited to all the parties, and meet all the people that wouldn't touch me as an artist. I'm even personal director for the Belson collection."
"You know Belson?" she cried, her body jerking into alertness at the name.
"Know her! Sugar, I may have escaped Mummy's apron strings in Omaha, but I need that influence. So, I just jumped onto the Belson express. I'm her adopted son."
She clutched his arm. "Duane, I need to interview her. Can you get me in?"
"Consider it done, dumpling. You meet me out by the lobby, and I'll make the phone call."
As she walked to the lobby, she felt something gnawing at her, something Duane had said. Mother, something about his mother.
"Oh, my God… Bob!"
Suddenly it hit her. Bob lived with his mother. So, that was it. He was gay. That was why he would never discus his sex life.
She was relieved by the sudden insight. She had always felt slightly hurt that he did not trust her enough to tell her, but at least now she knew. Maybe she could relax him enough to drop the block between them.
Her relief was doubled when Duane returned to announce that Glenda would be to see her in her Palmer House suite to in two hours. To kill time they walked to one of the nearby bars and ordered cocktails.
"Here's to Melissa," he said. "My only experiment in heterosexuality."
Her memory of the incident quickly flowed up. They had met at an Omaha art show. They developed an instant friendship, and Melissa was treated to a whirlwind tour of the gay scene in town.
It was on one such bar-hopping evening that Duane came up to Melissa's apartment. Between her desire to change him and his curiosity, they finally found themselves rolling on the floor in naked embrace. Melissa did most of the work, but she never minded.
Things went slowly at first, his body unwilling to respond to her female approaches. It was not until she took on a sort of maternal attitude that his cock shot up in firm, erect passion.
She sucked hard at the swollen rod, shouting her matronly orders between large gulps of his throbbing shaft. Her fingers played lightly over his balls. She rubbed the swollen tastes, coaxing his prick to its full size before continuing down to enter the delightful channel of his asshole.
She worked hard to produce the sensations most familiar to him, and his body snaked in delight as her tongue rode up and down his firm cock, her fingers pounding their lust into his grinding asshole.
Once he was thoroughly primed, she climbed over his body and absorbed the full length of his prick-pole into her tightly gripping asshole. She pounded his body with her hips, cajoling him in her motherly fashion to suck her tits.
It all worked. The vision of his mother swam behind his closed eyes as he tore at her bobbing tits, his mouth sucking furiously at the firm standing nipples, his hands groping and clutching at the soft clitoral patch of her cunt.
They both came in one large, violent explosion. Her butt-muscle sucked at his bursting cock, milking the giant tool as its cum blew into her bowels in gallons. Her own juices flooded out to coat his trembling hand, and inundate his belly with its bursting release.
It was a fond memory for Melissa, one of many they discussed in their two hours at the bar. By the time they left to meet Glenda Belson, Melissa was sailing on a cloud of good feeling, and martinis.
The suite was big, rich and beautiful, but so was Glenda Belson. She was about forty, with large full tits that matched Melissa's in size and firmness. Her hair was red, and piled stylishly on her head. It all served to cap a proud, dignified face that was really quite sensual.
"So, you'd like an interview?" she said, drinking in Melissa's body with her eyes, appraising her in a manlike fashion.
"Yes, ma'am," she replied.
"Duane darling, why don't you go about your duties while Miss Dansin and I get better acquainted?"
"Yes, love," he said. As he turned to go, he gave Melissa's arm a tight squeeze and whispered, "My turn to teach you something. Just swing with it, darling. You'll love it." And he left.
Melissa was not exactly sure of his meaning, but the older woman's searching looks had given her some idea. She took up a position at one end of the sumptuous sofa, and Glenda seated herself at the other. Carefully, she drew her legs up under her body, the slit in her long robe parting to reveal the soft whiteness of her full, fleshy thighs.
The conversation began with small talk that yielded little information. It only served to generate strange quivers in Melissa's body as the older woman kept shifting her position, giving her more and more looks at the exposed flanks of her firm, womanly body.
"You're aware, of course, that I rarely interview?" she said, her body edging ever closer to Melissa.
"I know, and I really appreciate it."
"Do you? How much?" Casually she reached over, and placed her hand under Melissa's tit. She held it a moment, bouncing the pendulous globe in her hand as if to test its weight.
For once Melissa was caught by surprise. She cursed Duane for not having prepared her as her mind jumped between revulsion and sexual excitement. She might even have left had the thought of fucking up another of Murdock's schemes not suddenly pushed her past any resistance to this new experience.
"It's hard to say. Perhaps I can show you how much."
With this assurance, Glenda quickly rose and threw open her robe. The garment slithered from her mature, shapely body to fall in a pile at her ankles. With a quick kick she flipped it across the room, and sat back down beside Melissa.
"Melissa, am I beautiful to you?" she asked, spreading her thighs to give Melissa a better look at the thin, smooth slit, barely hidden by the band of her panties.
"Yes, you are beautiful. Very beautiful."
Melissa could see the thrill in the woman's eyes as Glenda lifted the soft, bulging mounds of her butt-cheeks from the sofa. Gripping the fabric with her fingers, she slowly and provocatively peeled her panties down over her fleshy thighs. Her legs lifted high in the air, exposing her busy red beaver as the garment cleared the final barrier of her delicate foot, and landed behind the sofa.
She then inched in back of herself, and unhooked her bra. She pulled the cups away, freeing the enormous globes of her mature tits. Without support they sagged only slightly, the twin dark circles of her nipples standing out proudly from their jutting peaks.
Melissa's hands began wandering over her own jugs sympathetically as she saw the older woman wet the tip of a finger and rub it lovingly around the taut pinnacles of her large, full tits, recoiling sensually from her own touch.
Melissa now looked down between Glenda's parted thighs. She felt as though she should be ashamed for gazing so openly at her wanton cunt, but instead of shame, she felt a feeling of warmth and desire. An odd, gnawing passion was beginning to overtake her.
Glenda could sense the turmoil, and knew that the younger girl liked what she saw. She responded with a wider spread to her legs that left an unobstructed view of her heated, trembling cunt-lips.
The inner walls of her pink snatch were now completely open to Melissa's eager eyes. There was a thin line of moisture along the rim of her parted gash, a narrow trail of warm pussy juice flowing along the puffy furrow of the woman's cunt.
"It's beautiful. I've never had it before, and I want it," Melissa said, almost hating to admit that looking up the woman's juicy pussy was turning her on like nothing had before.
The joy spread across Glenda's face. The moist tip of her tongue sneaked out to wet the slightly parted lips, rolling slowly back and forth as the tempo of her breathing now increased.
"Do you want me to eat you?" she asked, her tongue working to tempt the girl. "Do you want to feel my tongue in your cunt? Tasting you, sucking you, eating you?"
"Yes… I think… Yes, I do. Yes!" Melissa cried. The passion of Glenda's wards, and the boldness of her gesture combined to trigger the flow of hot juices into her slit.
The older woman quickly rose to her knees and removed Melissa's dress. She tossed it aside, and stared wide-eyed at the braless perfection of Melissa's vulnerable boobs. Her body was overwhelmed with an insane lust and need as the sight of the young girl's proudly erect nipples stood like a vision before her.
"My God! I've never seen anything so beautiful," she gasped, her hands reaching to touch them. The expert fingers moved haltingly, almost unbelieving, and closed their grasp around the perfect jugs. She applied just the right amount of kneading pressure, her firm caress bringing groans of pleasure from Melissa's throat.
It was obvious to Melissa that this woman knew all there was to know about pleasing another woman, and she willingly responded as their lips met in a tender kiss. The pressure was gentle, the tongue probing sensually, circling the wet, warm chasm of her mouth in long sweeping arcs.
Glenda's hands were working, too. One hand continued rolling her nipple with steady twists of her thumb and forefinger while the other traveled her body. The roving hand glided lightly over every twist and indentation of her flesh, sending chill after chili rippling through her, before finally coming to rest in the soaking valley of her cunt.
Melissa was going crazy with delight. This woman was overwhelming her with her approach, so totally new, so totally feminine, so full of the tenderness and stimulation that only a woman could give another woman.
"Take me, Glenda," she whispered. "Teach me! Show me how to make love to you. Show me how a woman makes love to a woman."
"I will. I'll show you. It'll be wonderful for you. I'll show you parts of you no man knows about."
Melissa succumbed to the delirium of her releasing sexual passion. She tore the panties from her body, and stretched out on her back, opening the way for Glenda's fingers to trail the length of her dripping pink slit from clitoris to asshole.
Up and down the hand went, long nails softly scratching at the groping hairy walls as they gaped open. Jolts of passion coursed through Melissa's body as the knowing fingers would skim along, tickling the tiny hairs of her bunt, and then on to prod the pleading bulge of her love-button.
Glenda's head now moved over her heaving jugs, her tongue circling the underside of the barely flattened melons, and then climbing the soft curve to lick at the straining posts of her nipples.
Suddenly Melissa felt the lips of her tender pussy being pried skillfully apart. She groaned aloud as the hot tongue started downward, pulling across her belly, warming every inch of her flesh before landing in the hairy mound of her cunt.
"Is it good, my dear? Is my tongue good in your pussy?"
"Yes, Glenda. Give it to me. Taste me! Suck me!"
Two fingers entered her cunt and massaged the slick inner walls, only to be replaced by the woman's tongue. Melissa's muscles throbbed as the wet licker went foraging in and out of her hungry slit like a man's hard cock.
Her head rolled back and forth with the mounting gyrations of her body. Glenda's fingers were pressing frantically against the slippery bud of her clit, her tongue pounding the inner walls of her twat.
"Shit, yes!" she chanted, thrusting her cunt up to the woman's eager lips. "Fuck me, Glenda! Suck me dry! Tongue-fuck me till I can't take any more! Harder! Now… yes! Faster!"
She reached down, and gapped the woman's hair, pulling her wet face into the soaking mass of her cunt. Urgently, she thrust her pussy upward with her hips, telling Glenda by her actions that she wanted her to take more of her cunt, wanted her whole face inside her snatch.
The young girl's legs were spread as wide as they would go, her hips bucking frantically as the searing heat of her orgasm began running out from her churning thighs. On and on Glenda's tongue ran, digging, scooping, thrilling to the tangy taste of her cunt-sauce.
And then it came.
It exploded like a volcano, soaring through every pore in the heated inner walls of her pussy. Her body jerked wildly as Glenda moved her tongue up to flick unceasingly at the hard knob of her clit.
There was nothing quick about it. It seemed to hang forever, the older woman holding her right on the peak of passion, causing unending eruptions to spill load after load of cunt juice from her steaming gash.
"Oh, God! It's too good to be true!" Melissa cried. "It's never going to stop! Oh, shit! Goddddd!"
And still it came.
Melissa was bathing in the glorious insanity of her passion. Filled with the thrill of cunt-lust, she swung herself up and around the sofa until her face was poised above Glenda's soaking thighs, her hard breath blowing at the tiny pussy hairs.
"Yes, darling," the woman urged, "taste it. You'll love the sweet taste of pussy. Take it in your mouth. Eat me."
Melissa buried her head between the woman's quivering thighs. The cunt opened wide to receive the girl's anxious tongue as she jammed it between the pulpy labes and started sucking for all she was worth.
Melissa inhaled the new combination of odors inside the seething snatch, her tongue savoring the new taste. Each sense seemed to heighten to this new form of lovemaking, taking her beyond any passion she had ever known.
"I want it to be good for you," she moaned, her tongue driving wildly to scoop the thick juices into her mouth. "I want to make you cum like you made me. I want to suck you better than you've ever had it."
"You are. You're doing it," Glenda replied. "Just lick the hell out of me. Suck the shit out of my lovely pussy."
Melissa's fingers worked to stretch the pulsing walls of Glenda's box. Her tongue flew cock-like in and out of her gushing hole, its hard tip tracing a patch from her clit to her asshole.
The total penetration of the cock-tongue into her pussy drove Glenda wild. Her legs were straining wide, her hands helping to raise the soft mass of her hips higher, causing her twat to sag open even wider.
Melissa drove into the opening, sloshing her head from side to side inside the redhead's pussy. Her cunt poured its streaming juices across Melissa's cheeks and chin, only adding to her maddening ecstasy.
On and on her tongue rammed, her chin nuzzling the soft crater of her bung, and her nose raking across the throbbing clit as she buried her face into her churning cunt.
The older woman's hips became pistons as she felt the gushes of her climax start to pour from her sucking split.
"It's coming, honey! Don't stop! Make it explode on me! Lick me harder!Harder!"
Melissa could taste the bitter-sweet cum seeping into the hot cavern, and she devoured the fuck-juice in huge gulps. Her hands clamped on the woman's firm butt-cheeks, driving her face in even harder to bring her off.
"Oh, God! I'm blowing! It's running through me like a fucking tidal wave! Oh, God! Shit! Fuuuuuck!"
Glenda screamed, her body arching as she exploded in the ecstasy of total, throbbing release. The flood gates opened, pouring out her sticky cream as Melissa sucked and swallowed the cum as quickly as it ran down.
At last when the heaving body beneath her started to case, Melissa raised her head from the soggy cunt-mound. She looked up between the heaving globes of Glenda's tits, and smiled.
"Now that's what I call an enlightening interview," she sighed.
The older woman returned the look through heavy-lidded eyes, the very same satisfied smile bending her lips.
"Honey, I've got a list of women a mile long who'd give their left tit for an interview like this." She reached down and patted Melissa's cheek. "And I can't think of anyone who would put it to better use."
"Murdock, you're fucked," Melissa chuckled to herself. She knew nothing could stop her now.