Melinda and Phil stepped from the shower and playfully toweled each other dry.
Naked and still laughing they walked into the kitchen, where Melinda cooked eggs and bacon for both of them.
"The life of luxury," Phil chuckled. "I feel like a million."
"So do I," Melinda replied. "Last night…"
"This morning," Phil corrected. "It's 2 P.M."
She smiled. "This morning was terrific. You're really quite a man, Philip Howard. I was beginning to believe that there weren't any men left in this world, just boys over the age of twenty-one."
"You've got a way about you that brings out the best in a man," he grinned, leaning over to kiss her. "This morning was something else. I could easily become addicted to you. "
She gazed at him a moment, seeing he was serious. "So could I."
He kissed her again in reply, then rose from the table. "Now, I'd best get dressed and get back to Susan's and Jace's. They're probably home from the city by now and wondering where I am. I didn't realize my gallant rescue last night would lead to…" he paused, searching for the right words.
"A night with a ball freak," Melinda said.
"I wasn't going to put it that way," he said.
"I know. You were going to say something nice… and dishonest," she said.
"I'm a ballfreak, Phil. I like to get into bed with a man and fuck. It's that simple. If a man feels that I'm a whore for doing the same thing he likes to do, then that's his problem. I can usually sense the way he feels. If he's got that hang-up, then I won't see him again. I won't let myself be stifled by a double standard that's been plaguing this society since Victorian times."
She paused to let him answer, but he didn't say anything.
"Last night was good, Phil. You needed a woman and I needed a man. We had sex and we both enjoyed. It was honest."
He nodded in agreement.
"And to be strictly honest," she continued, "I'd like it to happen again…"
He moved to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her long and passionately.
"To hell with Susan and Jace. I don't want to leave right now."
They moved back into the bedroom. Melinda directed him to stretch out on the bed. She then used her mouth on his cock until it stood stiff and erect, like a fleshy- flagpole jutting from his crotch. When she pulled away, she eyed her work for a moment with a pleased smile plying on her lips.
"You taste good," she said, looking up at him. "Now, let me do the work this time. I hope you don't have a hang-up about the woman taking the top position.
Because, I intend to fuck you."
The deep red-headed man laughed and shook his head. "No inhibition about plowing the sky."
"Good!" Melinda replied. "Now I'm going to fuck the hell out of you."
Straddling his waist, she slowly lowered herself onto the rigid spike of his sex. She sighed as the length of his cock eased up into the waiting mouth of her cunt, then filled her.
Like a hungry cat, she balled him until she and he came together once again.
Then she used her mouth to get him up again and fucked him once more. Her bedside clock read 5 P.M. when he finally managed to rise and dress.
"Don't go back to sleep on me," he said when he left. "We've got a date for dinner at seven, then we'll take in a movie or something."
"I'd rather have the something," she called after him.
Feeling warm and wonderful, the dark-haired woman returned for another shower.
Yesterday, her world seemed bleak and dreary.
Today everything was rosy and delicious. Perhaps it would be a short-lived feeling. She didn't care. If it were only for tonight, it would be better than the past six months.
Climbing from the shower and drying herself, Melinda went to her closet and pondered. She shoved aside the jeans and blouses and carefully studied each of her dresses, at last selecting a slinky black evening gown that dipped sexily at the neckline.
Phil might show up in jeans, but she didn't care. Tonight, she was going to knock the eyes out of his head.
For a moment, she thought about taking two steaks from the refrigerator and fixing dinner in her apartment, then decided against it. Phil said he was taking her out to dinner. She would let him, even if it were for hamburgers.
She then moved to her dressing table and selected the most seductive perfume she had and dabbed behind her ears and touched a drop to the valley between her tits. Her makeup was light, a bit of lipstick, a brush of blush and just enough powder to stop her nose from shining.
She wore no slip beneath her dress, preferring to allow the light to play through the fabric and reveal the silhouettes of her long legs. Nor did she wear a bra or panties. They would only be in the way later. Poising before the mirror, she carefully eyed herself, pleased with her definitely seductive appearance.
Promptly at seven, the doorbell rang. Phil stood outside in a three-piece suit and carrying a dozen long stemmed roses. She took them, sniffing their fragrance.
"Here's another present," Phil said, handing her a box.
"What's this?" she asked.
"A carburetor kit," he replied. "I thought I'd repair your car tomorrow."
"Sounds like you plan on spending another night."
"If you'll have me."
"I'll have you," she replied coyly, letting him know just how she would have him.
He grinned and kissed her. "Now, I'm afraid I'll have to let you select a good place to eat. I don't know enough about this town to be able to select a restaurant that will impress a beautiful woman."
"I don't need that type of impression," Melinda answered.
"I've already got the most important one. But I do like seafood.
How's that sound to you?"
"Great," he said, waving her from the apartment.
The dinner went great. They talked first about Phil's two years in the Peace Corps, then about her own life. Melinda found herself opening to the young man, enjoying the attention he gave freely and the interest he offered. They danced, holding each other closely while a three-piece combo played soft, slow romantic tunes.
"Now," Phil eventually said. "I promised you a movie."
"I'd rather not," Melinda said. "If you don't mind. To be honest, I'd much rather get you in bed and…"
"Enough said," he grinned widely. "However, if I allow you to compromise my virtue this night, you have to promise to take in a Woody Allen festival with me tomorrow night."
"Agreed," Melinda grinned, then taking Phil's arm, led him from the restaurant.
Outside, the night was clear. Melinda stared up to the stars, feeling wonderful, while Phil unlocked the car, then opened the door for her.
"Did Jace and Susan get back in town?" she asked when he slid behind the steering wheel and started the car.
"Yes," he answered, easing the car from the parking lot and turning toward her apartment. "Seems they managed to pick up some new assignments."
"Did you tell them about last night?"
He looked at her and shook his head. "I just said I had found this fantastic beauty and they weren't to expect me home until early tomorrow morning."
Melinda nodded, feeling a bit easier. For some reason, she didn't want her brother and his wife intruding on Phil and her time together. Phil glanced at her again, a strange expression on his face, but he didn't press the matter further.
Within a few minutes, they wheeled into her apartment parking lot and quickly made their way to her apartment.
"Would you like a drink?" Melinda offered.
"No. I just need a double shot of you."
Phil took her in his arms, kissing long and passionately.
She melted against him, rolling the firm cones of her breasts over his chest.
Her pelvis undulated against the crotch of his pants.
She smiled inwardly, delighting in her own sensuality and the desire she ignited in this graduate student.
Phil's hands crept down her back, then covered the perky cheeks of her ass. He squeezed, molding the firm demi-globes still covered by her black, slinky dress. She moaned around the tongue playfully exploring her mouth.
"Mmmmmmm," she sighed when their lips parted. "That feels so good. I love your hands on me."
"I was hoping you would," he replied, a lusty gleam in his green eyes. "I've been watching this beautiful ass all night and wondering…"
"Wondering?" She moaned again when his hands squeezed down firmly into her asscheeks.
"How you feel about having me here?" His hands clamped down once again, to make sure she knew exactly what he was proposing.
"Hmmmmm." She batted her long eyelashes coyly and glanced modestly to the floor. Then she stared back at him. "I'll let you know, as soon as I can get out of these clothes."
With a quick kiss, she eased from his arms and stepped back.
Tucking an arm behind her, she tugged her dress's zipper downward and wiggled free of the black fabric. His eyes went as wide as saucers when he saw she wore nothing beneath. Immediately his hands began to peel away and discard the layers of his own clothing.
With his eyes watching her every movement, she sank to the floor of the living room and posed on her hands and knees. She purposely pushed the pink globes of her hindcheeks into the air and wiggled her ass, tempting him. If he had any doubt about her willingness to have a man take her in the ass, he didn't exhibit it now. The red-haired student pulled down his jockey shorts and tossed them away. He then dropped to his knees behind her.
"Have I told you that you're beautiful?" he whispered, his arms reaching around her waist then moving upward to capture the slightly pendulous cones of her tits. "If I haven't, then let me correct a dreadful oversight. Melinda Tuning, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever met."
"I bet you say that to all the girls you're about to bugger," she said, cooing softly while he toyed with her breasts, creating all sorts of warm, trembly sensations within her.
When her nipples swelled and stood stiff and a moist flow of juices dampened her quim, his hands slid downward, one covering the mound of her cunt and the other caressing the upturned cheeks of her buttocks. With the sexy thoroughness she had come to expect from this man, he carefully prepared her body for the stiff invasion of her asshole.
Dipping a finger into the wet channel of her cunt, he then moved the slackened finger to her anus. He used her own pussy lubricants to moisten her ass, carefully coating the tight, round hole.
She moaned and trembled, enjoying the probing fingers that moved from cunt to ass, wiggling and drilling. She shivered in anticipation of the fatness that would soon slide up to pack the tiny mouth of her anus.
Urging her to relax, the man behind her then pulled the half- moons of her rump apart. The throbbing head of his cock pressed to the drawn ring of her anus.
She quivered under the intimate contact, but forced her body to relax. His hips pressed inward with a slow, but steadily increasing pressure.
"Ahhhh!" Her natural resistance gave way. The fat head of his prod popped into the vise-like confines of her asshole. "It feels so big!"
It did! She felt every inch of his engorged cock as it slipped into the channel of her backside. She felt the delicate membrane of her asshole mold around his thick length like a glove, squeezing tightly to his circumference. She felt every quiver and jerk of his massive tool.
"Tight," he groaned from behind her. "You're so damn tight!"
She wiggled her haunches a bit, whipping him around within her. He groaned again, slowly pulsing back, then easing in once again. He moved carefully, allowing her time to accustom herself to his size and depth of strokes. Only when she assured him she was totally ready did the graduate student up the tempo of his ass-reaming.
Her whole body trembled as the hot, fiery sensations generated by his stiff rod swirled through her. She rocked and hunched, meeting the in-out motion of his pelvis. She clamped down, gripping at his cock with all her strength, an action, she realized, that created a tight friction that fired the surface of his prick.
Gratefully, his hands returned to her chest and recaptured the swaying forms of her tits. While his cock fucked her ass, his hands tugged and squeezed the ripe, aching cones, doubling the pleasure of their coupling.
In and out the fleshy staff of his cock reamed the round channel of her asshole. She felt like a volcano nearing eruption.
Each deep-drilling stroke of his sex sent shuddery lust running up her spine.
Her body responded. She threw herself back, impaling herself on his swollen lance. When he pulled back, she eased from him, then hunched back. She fucked herself on his cock, while he poled her.
"I'm close," he whispered, leaning forward on her back.
She didn't mind. Her own need was driving her closer and closer to the edge of climax.
Harder and deeper, his cock drove into the gripping confines of her rear. She hunched and wiggled. She moaned and groaned.
She fucked and screwed herself onto his joystick. And she came.
A moment after her quaking ecstasy began, he came, flooding the fiery channel of her bowels with a steaming fountain of sperm and semen.
Melinda awoke the next morning, lazily reaching out to hug the man beside her.
Last night had been marvelous. What had started in the living room, ended in her bed after hours of non- stop sex.
Her eyes opened wide. Phil was gone. She glanced at her night clock. It read noon. "Phil?" she called out softly, then a bit louder, "Phil?"
No one answered.
Slipping from the bed, she hastily checked the rooms of her apartment. Phil wasn't there, nor did she find a note anywhere.
An aching hollowness filled the pit of her stomach. Was this the way it ended, Phil quietly leaving without a word of good-bye while she slept?
She felt hot tears mist her eyes, but wiped them away, refusing to cry. She was a big girl. She knew that the past two nights had been nothing but an opportunity for sex for the both of them. She had enjoyed it. Wasn't that enough? It was, she told herself, but why did she want more than just a weekend of balling?
She glanced around the apartment, remembering. It seemed so empty, even more lonely than before Phil Howard had first stepped foot within her door. She hugged herself, suddenly feeling chilly.
Get off it kid! You're acting like some school-girl who's just lost her virginity and feels abandoned when the man leaves her, she chided herself. It did help.
A knock came at the door. Melinda jumped, startled. Again the knock sounded.
Trotting into the bedroom, she grabbed a robe from the closet and wrapped it around her. The knock came persistently again. She trotted back to the living room and opened the door.
"Phil!" she almost cried aloud, warmth and joy flooding through her.
"Sorry I left so early," he winked. "But I had this great idea and it couldn't wait. Did anyone ever tell you that you're beautiful when you're sleeping?"
He pushed into the apartment, carrying two suitcases. She stared at him, unsure what was going on.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Moving in," he said. "That is if you'll have me. All my things are down in the car. Susan and Jace thought I was crazy, as hell."
"Moving in? Just like that, you're moving in?" She couldn't believe this was happening. "Mr. Howard, I haven't even asked you. You don't just up and decide to move in with a woman without asking her."
"Why not? Is there a law that says this and that formality must be observed between a man and a woman who love each other?" he asked. "Besides you can always kick me out if it doesn't work."
"Has anyone ever told you that you've got a weird outlook?" She suddenly realized what he had said. "Love?"
"Yes, didn't I tell you?" He looked at her with big, green innocent eyes. "I love you."
She stared at him with her mouth open, then began to laugh.
By all rights, she should be fuming and raging with anger. But she didn't find an ounce of anger anywhere within her. "I don't know if I'll ever adjust to your style."' "Don't try to. I don't have one," he chuckled. "I guess this means you're not throwing me out on my ear then."
"No, I don't know why, but I'm letting you move in," she said, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss.
"I'll probably regret this, but I'll never know unless I give it a try."
"Good," he said. "And by the way, I want to marry you."
She laughed again. "Phil, I'm not sure whether to take you seriously. One thing I am sure of is that if this lasts only a week, it will be one week filled with surprises."
He just grinned and kissed her again. "Now, I've got to finish unloading my car, then I'll get that carburetor kit and see if I can get yours running again. And I do love you, and I am going to marry you."
She laughed as he walked back down to the parking lot, that funny-looking grin on his face.
Two months later, Melinda Tuning stood before a justice of the peace and vowed to take Phil Howard as her husband, until death did them part.