First she heard the outer door opening, and then she heard a raucous voice calling, "Charlie, Charlie. Where is Charlie?" Beneath her, the object of the question seemed to stiffen and she felt his cock begin to wilt. No! Melinda thought jealously. She made her pussy contract on him, and almost at once the softening process halted. He wasn't quite as hard as he'd just been, but he was still fuckworthy. No matter who was in the apartment, she didn't intend to lose that erection till she'd milked it and profited by its milk.
"Oh, shit, it's Frank and Don," Charlie whispered. "My roommates."
"Listen," a second voice said outside, "I hear bedsprings quivering."
"Oh, yeah? Does that mean we've caught him doing the dirty deed again? Hey, Charlie – if you keep playing with your tool, it'll never…"
The bedroom door pushed open and a dark, punk-faced young man stuck his head into the room. He looked like any of the imitation Fonzies running at large nowadays, Melinda noticed as she stared over her shoulder. "Holly shit," the boy said. "Come here and take a look at this!"
"Jesus Christ," Charlie moaned, stirring beneath, her. His face was scarlet.
Melinda smiled reassuringly, and she straightened up, then turned half around. The fact that she was totally naked, that she was full of cock, that she was being stared at by a stranger – it was too late for any of those factors to embarrass Melinda Stillman. Indeed, there was something quite provocative in the wonder-filled eyes of the young man looking at her from the doorway.
A second face entered the frame. Also dark, also third-rate Brando – James Dean – Henry Winkler. But the eyes were enormous, and they took in all of Melinda's nudity; took it in, craving more.
"I thought you guys were going to that party," Charlie said in a soft voice. Melinda put her hand on his chest and started twiddling his nipples. He chuckled softly, and his cock seemed to fill a little, to stiffen inside her. Mmmm, she thought, that's a lot better, Charlie love. Now don't lose any of that sweet, sweet stiffness. Keep yourself up, big and hard, so you can fuck me just as soon as we're ready to start again. She tweaked one nipple, felt it nearly as stiff as his cock, and she was happy. Something told her Charlie was happy, too. "Yeah," said one of the faces. "It was a stone drag, so we got out. No chicks, no dope worth smoking, nothing but ripple to drink. Looks like you scored all right, though. Hey, that's some piece."
"Christ, look at those tits," she heard the other one whisper, and his eyes were still big as saucers.
Both of them liked what they saw, and that pleased Melinda. It was a very heady feeling to see the attraction the two boys felt for her, and perhaps it was a kind of indicator that she was on her way to a successful career. Neil used to look at me like that, she thought. And she'd mined it so much. Well, she didn't have to miss it any longer.
Melinda rocked a little atop Charlie, and his dick quivered in her tight sucking sheath, and she found herself remembering the dirty movie, when she and Charlie had met. Such a fascinating scene – the very scene where she'd made her move on the masturbating boy, in fact – a woman taking on two men at the same time. She'd wondered then, wondered how it would be, how it would feel, how she'd respond. God, she could have it now, if she wanted. And three men, instead of just two. Frank and Don were breathing hard, their faces flushed with lust and perhaps a few glasses of Ripple. She could have all of them, right here, right now, a cock in her cunt, another in her mouth, but where would the third go? Up her ass? She'd never tried it there. Neil and Kathy probably had. Kathy looked like the type of girl who'd do anything, at least once. Or…
No. It wouldn't work. Maybe some other time. At least it was I goal to shoot for. But right now she was Charlie's, and he was hers in a very special way, and bringing his friends into the act would only cheapen it for him. Besides, he was still rather shy and nervous about fucking his first woman. Let him savor the full pleasure by himself. Yes, that was the only answer.
"Why don't you guys get out, and shut the door behind you?" Charlie spoke up, his voice stronger than before. A very good sign, Melinda thought. "We'd like a little privacy."
"Oh, hell, Charlie," one of them argued. "Can't we at least watch? I've never seen anybody lose a cherry before."
"Beat it!" he said. "If you want, to watch, go to the all night dirty movies. I'm not gonna tell you again." And something hi his voice seemed to suggest that he was quite serious. I'm turning him into a man, Melinda thought. He doesn't sound squeaky and boyish any more. So much the better for Charlie, so much the better fin me.
"Yes," she said, "we'd like to be alone." And with that she threw herself down upon Charlie, squirming, kissing his red face, oozing her tits and belly against his body until he began to thrust and buck within her almost automatically.
"Oh, the hell with it," one of the boys said. "Let's give old hand job Charlie his big break. He'll probably never score again anyway."
"Yeah. I wonder how much he's paying her. She looks like a hooker. I guess that's all he can get."
The door went shut and, a few moments later, she heard them going out the front door. Charlie's tongue was in her mouth and she was busy sucking it, but she let go and looked at him. "Don't worry about your friends," she said. "They're jealous."
He nodded, face beaming with newfound assurance. "They're not even my friends," he said. "Just my roommates. And I don't give a fuck what they think."
"Prove it, big stuff," she taunted, wiggling her bottom.
He took the hint and thrust up, cock frisky in her gate. Melinda sighed with pleasure and she reared back, back, until she was sinking onto the mattress and Charlie was lifting with her.
Now she was stretched flat out, and it was Charlie who reared up, straight-wined, but his cock was still in her and Melinda could look down her belly, sighting between the jelly-jiggly mounds of her tits and see his groin plumb against hers, the very root of his dong visible where it entered her cunt.
"I was getting tired of being on top," she smiled. "I'm not really a dominant woman. I like a man who'll put the blocks to me, show me that he's all man. Can you do that, Charlie sweet? Can you?"
"Try me," he sneered, full of newly-gained macho and so delightful to watch. Melinda lifted her legs and he caught them at the ankles, as he began to fuck in and out.
"Ohhhh," she cried, and one of her hands went down to rub her clit while the dick continued to move in her. The combination of hard-fucking and vigorous frigging sent shudders of hot cuntiness through Melinda and she writhed to meet him, her legs stretching and stretching and stretching, till she thought her toes must soon rub the ceiling.
"Wow," he gloated, "I've seen it in a lot of movies, Melinda, but it feels a million times better than it looks."
"Mmmm-mmmmm," she nodded, and even as she spoke she felt herself climbing, sooo high.
Her breath came harder and harder, and her tits ached. God, how long had they been fucking? Maybe fifteen minutes. And that didn't count the juicy little be-brave suck off she'd given him, when his resolve had failed at the moment for penetration. A long time. A sweet long time. Oh, someday this Charlie the young man would be a dynamite cocksman, and he'd have Melinda Stillman to think for it. Weil, he was pretty fucking good right now, and she kept on climbing, till the pound scorned to drop away beneath her feet and oh, God, instead of climbing she was falling, into an absolutely bottomless pit of sensation and stimulation and dripping, cunt-shivering excitement.
"Ooooooooohhhhhhhhh… chaaarrrrrlllliiiieeee!!!" Her clit exploded beneath her thumb and her pussy was a million separate strands of raw flesh whipping and whipping around his cock. Melinda's head tossed from side to side, hair flying back and forth in her face, and her tits bounced, and so did her ass, up and down, into him, away from him, into him again, but this time as if she meant to eat his cock with her contracting, rippling pussy.
"Come with me," she begged shrilly. "Come with me, Charlie! Oh, Jesus, feel me coming? Oooohhh, I'm so wet, so hot, so Goddamned wet and hot… my cunt wants you, Charlie… put out my fires with your juicy cum… squirt, Charlie, squirttttt!!"
He had her by the legs, and it felt as if he were breaking them off when he rammed it up her. There was no stopping Charlie, not then. His cock swelled in her cunt, swelled till it felt as if he were ripping her apart, and for the my time in the boy's life he shot his seed up the snatch of a willing, horny woman.
His eruption was shattering. "I… I… I'm coooommmminnggg!!!" he moaned, as if she needed to be told. She could fucking feel it, each separate bloat erupting into her guts, coating the walls of ha pussy sheath with his hot, thick, sticky baby-making fluid. Oh, it was good stuff! She knew – she'd tasted it already, scooped it up with her tongue, shoveled it down her throat as the tingly flavor held strongly on the tip of her frisky pink tongue. But now it was blasting up her pussy, and that was good too, so good, so gooooodddd…
He jerked out of her, still squirting, and she felt hot cum splattering her belly. Oh, Christ, the way he looked now, his cock slick and greasy-white with jism, as if he'd just fucked a jar of cold cream. But it wasn't cold cream. She could feel it on her skin, leaking in a river from her tingly cunt. Mmmmm, it was hot stuff, blistering hot, soul sucking hot!
Melinda fought her legs from his hands. She rocked on the bed while he watched, astonished, and she grabbed him in one fist. God, the stickiness on her fingers, in her palm! She had to taste it again, to remember exactly how sweet this young-boy cream was.
"Aaaahhh!" he yelped. "Suck me, suck me, ooohhh, I'm still coming! Suck it all out of me!"
She was! His cock was in her mouth and that viscous jism kept on flowing, as if her body had without warning caused his own ducts to burst open. She felt as if she were sucking the very life from Charlie, but suck she did, her mouth a hot vacuum on his dick.
And she had a finger in heron pussy, the long nail scraping the delicate flesh. But she didn't care. Her finger in her twat, her thumb on her clit banging away, banging.
Oh, God, she must have come a dozen a times in machine-gun succession, tremor after tremor fluttering through her pussy, until her body a creamed for release from that inexorable cycle of pleasures. Charlie? How many times did he come? He'd filled her pussy – her finger puddled in the stuff, so thick and abundant inside – and by the time his cock went soft in her mouth, she was full there, a well. Cream coated her lips, dripped from her chin, and her tongue was oily with it. But ahhhh, she thought, it was worth it all!
They left the bed to piss a short while later, and he found a new kind of thrill when Melinda held his cock while he poured his urine into the toilet bowl. She made his dick jiggle about, so that he pissed quietly, on the john's inner wall, and then noisily, right into the bowl of water, and both of them were laughing like children. Even when she misjudged her aim and he pissed on his own toes.
"I have a solution for that," Melinda giggled. She dropped to the floor, lifted his foot, and licked him dry with her tongue. God, she thought, I've never done anything like that before. Not even with Neil. What's next? Letting him in my mouth? Somehow the idea titillated her. She pictured the yellow-brown stream that had issued from his cock, remembered the salty, curiously enticing taste of it on his toes, and found the idea not at all repugnant. Yesterday it would have been, but this was.
And then she sat on the toilet, very demurely, and emptied her own bladder. But it ceased being demure when Charlie put his right across the slice of her pussy and let her flow across him. He rubbed her while she urinated, too, and Melinda felt hot urges beginning to boil in her fucked-out cunt. "Don't," she said. "I'm not in shape to do it again, and you're making me too Goddamned horny!"
But when she saw him suck his wet finger, suck it as freely, as curiously, as she'd licked his toes, she knew that resistance was in vain. Her nipples erected even before she'd climbed off the commode, and she was in his arms, being carried like a bride back into the bedroom, planted on the bed.
"And I have something else to plant," he said, brandishing a magically-restored hard-on. Melinda licked her lips with anticipation. She lifted her arms, spread her legs. Charlie climbed aboard, and the bed began to shake, rattle and roll beneath them. Oh, God, she thought, I'm glad I picked him up, glad I noticed him, glad I blew him in that scrungy theater, glad…
"When can I see you again?" he asked hopefully, snuggling close. Three times, plus that introductory suck off. Melinda ached, but such a sweet, happy ache.
"See me again?" she asked coyly. "Oh, Charlie!" Melinda shook her head. "I can promise you'll see me in the morning, the first thing you see when your eyes open, but after that – I don't know. I'm going through a lot of changes right now, and you're part of them, but I don't know where my head will be tomorrow afternoon. Don't look so sad! By this time Monday, you'll have so many women crawling over you that you'll have forgotten my name. Oh, Charlie love, I'm glad I got you started. But you'll have to go on by yourself."
"I don't want to. I want you."
"No," she cried. "I'm your big sister, your understanding aunt, the woman next door who saw something in you that was worth developing, bringing to the surface. We met by chance, like ships that pass in the night…" – had she heard some of this dialogue before? In a corny old Bette Davis or Joan Crawford movie, perhaps? It sounded familiar, but it also sounded appropriate…"and if we meet again, then perhaps we can share a laugh and a smile and maybe even a little kiss or two. But if we don't, Charlie sweetest, please think of me with kindness. Will you? Now kiss me goodnight and let me go to sleep in your arms. I want to feel your body close to mine all night long, and I want to wake up still in your arms tomorrow morning. Goodnight, darling."
As she snuggled up against him, she thought proudly that this game seemed to be made precisely for her. When she was with a man, a strange man, she seemed to fit perfectly into a role, to play that role to the hilt. With Dave Hammett, she'd been, unconsciously, the wronged wife in need of consolation. And she'd gotten it, in spades. With Ron, at the Holiday Inn, she'd been a free spirited young thing seeking her thrills with an older mature man, willing to give him her gratis, to teach him how the younger generation felt about sexual freedom. And with Charlie – well, with Charlie, she was definitely Deborah Kerr, in "Tea and Sympathy". Three different Melinda's, each of them a rousing success.
But which Melinda had failed to keep her own husband happy, had allowed him to drift into the arms of another woman? If only she knew…