Melissa was sitting at her desk, reading over her latest article when the phone rang.
"Hello. Special Assignments Desk. Can I help you?"
"Hello, Miss Dansin. Got time for an old friend?"
It took Melissa a few seconds to recognize the male voice, but when she did, her excitement was not to be contained.
"Darren Meredith! My God, how are you?"
"Just fine. I'd ask you the same thing, but I can see you're doing A-OK. How long you been boss?"
"Almost five months now. It's great! I get to pick all my own interviews."
"I'll bet they've been hot ones," he said, putting what could only be called a wink into his voice. "Any serious boy friends?"
"Nope. I spend mast of my time with Bob, and his mother, and a few of their friends, but nothing heavy. Why? Interested?"
"You never know, I might be."
The idea brought a quick flutter to her stomach, surprising her. "How have you been doing?"
"Great! Did a little moving up myself. Old man Walsh finally retired, and I've moved into his spot."
"You're kidding!"
"Nope. I'm a full-fledged network exec. In fact, it's in that capacity I'm calling you."
"Of course. After a year and a half why should I expect a social call?" She tried to load it with sarcasm, but the excited giggle still crept through.
"Okay, smart-ass, I'm sorry. I'm a fuck-up and I know it. However, this fuck-up has been thinking about you a lot, and has even submitted you for a national TV job. Interested?"
She could only sit there mutely, not sure she had heard correctly. "You… I'm… WHAT!"
"Yep. They're revising the evening news to include a five-minute celebrity interview, and I thought maybe you'd like to shoot for it."
"Well… yes. Yes! Oh, wait – I've got to talk to Pallbrook first."
"Then talk to him, call me back, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow… but…"
"Sorry," he said laughing, "can't waste any more of the company's money."
He was gone. She held the phone, the alarm-like hum of the dial tone assuring her that she was indeed awake. She finally shook herself out of it, and headed for Pallbrook's office. She felt nervous, and a little like a deserter, but it was too big an offer to ignore.
To her relief Pallbrook seemed even more excited than she was, certainly less surprised. "I always knew you'd move up," he chuckled. "As long as it's up, and not over to the competition, I'm thrilled." At Pallbrook's insistence, she returned Darren's call right there in the office. She quickly went to share the good news with Bob, before going home to pack.
The next day she was lifting skyward on a jet bound for New York City, her head still spinning with the speed and suddenness of the whole affair.
Her emotions were spinning, too. Sadness, nervousness, and excitement all mingled, and churned, each surfacing for its moment of focus, only to submerge again, and give way to one of the others. The dominant emotion proved to be excitement.
But Melissa was surprised to notice that her excitement revolved less around the job than seeing Darren again. The thought of this man, this one-week fling, kept holding her at a level of emotion that confused and almost frightened her with its intensity.
"What am I so excited about?" she mumbled as she stared at the billowing mountains of cloud banks. "Jeez, you'd think I was in love with the guy!"
She tried taking her mind off the subject, molding the clouds into imaginary shapes below her, but it did not work. She only managed to imagine herself into the fond memory of Darren's last night in Chicago.
They had spent the evening together at home. It was about four in the morning when they had walked out to the Oak Street beach. The traffic was light on the curving arm of the Outer Drive as they sat huddled under a blanket, the soft sand beneath them.
But the gentle lake breeze had brought with it a hunger and a passion that no amount of traffic or danger of discovery could subdue. Shielded by the darkness and their blanket, Darren had quickly removed the woven barrier of their clothes, and lowered her into the firmly yielding sand.
For a few seconds he watched her body. The moonlight played across her giving flesh as she snaked slowly in anticipation. Finally her arms flowed out in open invitation, pulling him onto the ground beside her.
His hands flowed across her body, drinking in this last encounter with her satin-smooth flesh. With one hand she gently pushed his head down, using the other to guide the tip of her perfectly rounded tit into his hot, searching mouth. His tongue caressed the rigid, straining nipple as his lips sucked the surrounding flesh with growing passion.
Melissa's hands slid down, pausing to memorize each rippling muscle on his full chest until they finally came to rest on his taut, throbbing cock. Tenderly she squeezed and pumped the giant rod, its size and pulsing hardness sending shocks of erotic sensation through her body.
His own hand dropped to weave its way through the dark bush of her beaver, and search the soaking mouth of her cunt. Her body arched as two fingers rose into the tight, running channel, probing to find that sensitive spot that would send thrills of delight surging through her body.
"Oh… oh, God, Darren. It feels so fucking good. Everything you do fills me up so fucking good."
"I'll till you better in a second. I just want to make sure you're ready for my cock."
Harder and harder she manipulated his prick, trying to fill him with the same feeling of erotic joy she was having. His fingers were soon coated with the dripping juices of her warm cunt as his fingers softly massaged the tiny clit at the top of her gash.
"Now, please. Give me your cock now."
"Yes, we're both ready. I want to feel your cunt."
She rolled to her back as he slid into position over her. He lowered his body, her legs coming up to lock behind him, puffing him towards her open, hungry cunt. With her hand she guided the quivering shaft of his cock into her soft sheath. Darren moved forward slowly, allowing the bright crown of his prick to separate the juicy lips, and enter the tender, pink passage of her cunt. He moaned as his cock slid, farther and farther into her satiny smooth channel, rising until its full length was buried in the moist warmth of her cunt.
He now began rotating his hips in precise, surging thrusts, his huge cock sending her into the divine throes of torrid passion. Her moans and gasps urged him on as she matched his motions, her hips churning to suck at the massive shaft of his prick.
"You're so tight and warm," he sighed, his eyes staring half-lidded into her beautiful face.
"Oh, God, it's not me, it's you. You're so huge. Your cock is so huge and wonderful. I love your cock."
"I love your cunt. Your beautiful, warm cunt."
The words drove them on to greater heights. The thrusts came faster and faster. Melissa accepted his violent surges with eager gyrations of her own. The steady rhythm was broken only by occasional slow movements as he pulled his cock out, leaving only the poised tip inside her sheathing cunt, taunting her shivering body with it, before plunging it back in to the bit in one thrilling lunge.
"Darren. Oh, Darren, I don't want it to end. I want you to stay. I want you to stay with me."
"Yes, I could. I almost think I could."
Her eyes were lost somewhere in the back of her head. Her body totally surrendered to the bliss of his impaling rod. Her movements quickened, her back arching even more to drive her slit harder against the base of his cock.
"Faster! Oh, Darren, give me all of it! Pound it into me!"
Lost in his own bliss, he responded instantly, pounding his prick in longer and harder strokes. His driving cock filled and emptied her wet, clutching hole, bringing her even closer to release. Again and again her whole body jerked spasmodically until she became a writhing blur of frenzied motion, screaming her ecstasy across the still lake waters.
"Oh, God, it's coming! Fuck me! Pound me! Make me bunt!"
"Yes, I feel it! It's… yes it's coming! God, it's coming!"
"Let it go! Let it happen for us both! Shit, let it come!"
He surged his ass forward, grinding his vibrating cock into her hole, forcing her ass hard into the molded sand. Her feverish cunt grabbed and pulled at his prick lovingly, hungrily, sucking it into the waking depths of her belly.
"Now!" be growled. "It's coming now!" He felt the heat in his balls begin to rise the pulsing length of his cock.
"Come! Come!" she squealed. "Me, too! Now! I'm cooooommiiinnngg!"
Some where inside her belly were giant swells of their juices collided in violent release. Darren felt like his insides were being sucked out and spewed into her flooding, twitching pussy. Melissa's body was jolted and racked with blast after blast of fiery bliss.
It took her a few seconds to realize that she was not on the beach, but on an airplane somewhere over New Jersey. Her memory of that final night was so vivid that she had actually had an orgasm. Her body shivered as she placed her unconsciously working hands into the more publicly acceptable berth of the arm rests.
Melissa quickly checked to see if she had been caught, and locked eyes with the only man in the aisle across from her. He was a stylishly dressed, extremely bold-featured man who had definitely been watching. Her face flushed when he lifted from his seat to cross the narrow aisle, and seat himself next to her.
"I wish I had that effect on my women," he joked, his manner somehow soothing the awkwardness of the situation. "Whoever he is, he must be a hell of a guy, and he's got a hell of a woman."
"Yeah," she mumbled, not quite knowing what to say.
"You ever been to New York?"
"Nope," she snapped.
"Look, I didn't come over here to hassle you. I just felt I'd like to get to know you if it's possible. I knew if I stayed in my seat, there was no chance, and if I came over here, there was at least some possibility. My name is Larry Roland, and here's a card. If things don't work out for you, I'd be glad to show you New York. Okay?"
She took the card, thanked him, and watched as he returned to his seat. She glanced at the card, noting that it contained his name and an agency logo that read, Supremacy Management. She guessed he was probably an actor, and barely glanced at the penciled-in address and phone number before tossing it into her purse.
Darren was waiting at the gate when she debarked, and the reunion was warm and passionate. Her stomach swiveled in her belly as his tongue heralded his welcome deep into her mouth. She might have taken him on right there, the public be damned, had he not laughingly scooted her off to the airport bar for a couple of drinks.
It was the bustling, unatmospheric quality of the place that filially cooled Melissa's fires enough that they could just talk. They caught each other up on a year and a half's worth of separation, and discussed briefly the next hour's interview for the other network bigwigs.
It was not until they were riding to the studio building that she began to feel truly nervous.
"Oh, shit, Darren, what the hell am I going to do on TV? I hold my interviews in people's bedrooms, and I'm afraid that just won't work in front of the cameras."
"Is that the only way you can get your information?" he chuckled.
"No… but it sure helps. Without it my material would be like everyone else's."
"Well, then keep it up."
"Oh, sure! When did you start running an X-rated news show?"
"No, dum-dum. Just do a pre-interview. Warm them up privately, get your information, and then bring it out on camera. You'll be the same brilliant Melissa the people love, to read."
"You think it could work?"
"Well, you're going to have to do a screen test. Find someone big and test it out. I suspect you'll do just fine."
Melissa's mind suddenly clicked. "Darren, who's Larry Roland?" She began searching her purse for the card.
"Ooooh, you know him?"
"Soft of."
"Great choice. He's a big soap-opera actor, the public loves him. An interview with him will carry a lot of weight with the bosses, too. He's on our network."
"Well, what the hell," she sighed, suddenly grateful for the tiny card clutched hopefully in her hand. "It's worth a try!"
Larry Roland's bedroom was a lavishly decorated affair, only a small part of his Riverside Drive penthouse suite. But Melissa was hardly in a position to notice as the two naked bodies rolled playfully around the huge wall-to-wall bed.
For several minutes now the groans of mounting passion had been the only sounds in the room. It was not until Larry's head lifted from its mouth-probing kiss that human speech reoccupied the space.
"I wonder if you'd be up for something a little out of the ordinary?" he asked, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "I was kind of hoping that your actions on the plane shows a lack of inhibition. Are you interested in something a little different?"
"What'd you have in mind?"
Quickly he rose, pulling her by the hand, and leading her into one of the apartment's high ceilinged rooms. Melissa stopped short at the sight that greeted her. It was a large room, the left and right side of which contained nothing but costumes. The walls were covered with object littered shelves, pennants, swords, shields, and hangings of every conceivable type and period. The center of the room was dominated by a large oak table with a throne-like chair at its head.
"I keep a significant momento from each play I've done," he said, his hand sweeping the array of artifacts. "And here, I have every costume I've ever worn on stage."
She ran her hand down the long rack, marveling at the various fabrics and styles, finally stopping at one long, velvet robe, richly trimmed in fur.
"I wore that one as Henry the Eighth," he said fondly, putting it on over his naked body. He grabbed a crown from one of the numerous shelves, and seated himself in the throne, his voice raised high as the full Shakespearean lines flowed from his throat.
Melissa was captivated by his manner and delivery, and thrilled at the private performance he was giving. It was not until a few seconds later that she realized the other wall contained nothing but women's clothes. Momentarily she was confused. They could not be his. Did he have a wife? Whose were they?
Then suddenly she understood why they were there. These clothes were for his women. His acting extended even into his sex life. If that was it, Melissa was all for it, and while he chanted on, she ran to the rack and quickly slipped into a long, flowing, empire-waisted gown.
She now turned and spoke, cutting into his speech in the hope she was right.
"I am here, my lord."
He paused to look at her, the high-waisted gown cupping the perfect mounds of her tits. "And who might ye be, fair lady?"
"I am Anne Boleyn, here to do my lord's bidding."
She was pleased with the look that came over his face. She had guessed right. The sight of this woman so beautiful, so willing to play his game, so quick to understand his needs, lit a fire of passion in his eyes that almost seemed to bum her in its lusting gaze.
He now rose, crossing to her, circling her, devouring her form under the soft folds of her dress.
"Are you worthy? The king must have a worthy servant."
He now grasped the top of the gown, pulling it down to her waist in one slow, continuing move. His smile widened as her tits slowly bobbed from beneath the satiny top, her firmly erect nipples staring at him in open invitation.
"Yes, you are worthy indeed," he whispered.
Melissa could see he was completely caught up in his role. He was no longer Larry Roland eyeing the luscious tits of Melissa Dansin; he was Henry, staring at Anne, his subject.
His hands now came up and cupped the gently swaying melons, his fingers and thumbs coming together to squeeze her taut nipples in their firm pinching grasp.
"You have much to offer your king. Are you a willing subject?" His hands crushed the giant jugs in a slow circular motion.
"Whatever my lord wants, is his," she moaned, her head bowed humbly, her eyes locked on the tip of his straining cock as it jumped between the open flaps of his robe. "I am here to serve." And her tongue came out to travel the full circumference of her open lips.
At the sight of her obvious gesture, he was lost in his game. Sure of her, cooperation, his voice began barking its kingly orders, his commands echoing their hoarse passion throughout the large room.
"On your knees. Humble yourself before your king."
"I am your slave!" she cried, dropping quickly to her knees, her face now poised before his throbbing cock.
"Kiss it!" he cried, throwing open his robe. "Kiss the royal staff. It is the divine symbol of my power."
His hard-on thrust out hungrily from his aching crotch. She stared at the swollen, red shaft quivering before her. She brought her lips up to it, her tongue coming out to circle slowly around the bare, smooth crown of his cock. Her head moved forward slightly, her moist lips closing around his prick-head. Her tongue flicked lightly across the very tip to scoop and swallow the tiny trickle of sperm that ran from his burning balls.
"Harder. You must surrender to it. Give it all your devotion."
While he spoke, he began pressing his hips forward, sinking his cock deeper and deeper into her hot, wet mouth. His body began shaking in uncontrolled passion as he felt the warmth of her tightly circling lips climb steadily back onto his huge cock.
Her tongue worked feverishly across the soft underside of his prick as the tip ran farther and farther back into her throat, until finally her lips and nose were nestled in the wiry patch of his pubic hair.
"Oh, good God," he groaned. "No one's ever taken so much. God, suck it. Suck my cock. Swallow my royal meat."
His hips began churning, grinding the length of his cock in and out of her wonderful, sucking mouth. She pulled her anus free from the lowered dress top, and brought her hands up. With one hand she grabbed his rapidly swaying balls, massaging them gently. With the other she grasped the base of his fuck-stick.
Melissa could feel the extreme pleasure of her act filling her body. Their groans mingled as she guided each violent lunge with expert skill, spiraling their shared passions to even greater heights.
On and on he stroked, her burning mouth sucking with a fury that threatened to draw his balls out through the narrow tube of his cock. His hips swayed violently, burying his giant prick deep into her throat.
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.