Author's note: This is a continuation of 'Melanie', the last chapter of which I posted well over a year ago. It stands alone, although if you are new to my work and like it, you may wish to read 'Melanie' as well.
This is a work of love and imagination. My deepest thanks to my partner, who has meticulously edited almost everything I've written since we met.
*****
Sandy surfaced from sleep, aware he'd been dreaming but remembering nothing of where it had taken him. He was instantly aware of where he was though: in the whispering hum of the A380, on his way to Australia.
He opened the shutter and his eyes slitted against sunpower through the port window. Several miles down, through layers of thin swirling cloud, the geographer in him recognised the distinctive bulge of the southwestern corner of the island continent. He was an old and seasoned traveller, and no longer thrilled to the new as he used to. Normally. But this wasn't normal. He was going to meet Melanie, for the first time on her home territory.
He unsnapped the lapbelt and murmured apologies to the couple next to him. Slipped out and moved down the aisle, needing to stretch his legs. Emirates provided more legroom in economy than any airline he'd flown with, but he had to move his long limbs, he'd been near twenty hours in the air since home. He appreciated the size of the A380: it had dwarfed the 747 next to it at Dubai. He pace-counted his walking to a half-kilometre up and down both long decks, did some stretching exercises against a bulwark, and freshened up before returning to his seat. He was tumescent when he peed, suffused with the imminent expectation of his lover.
He lost himself in Cormac McCarthy, ate a decent meal approaching Adelaide, then couldn't focus on anything but thoughts of his woman as the behemoth moved over landmass again. It was four months since she'd visited Glasgow as guest at a poetry festival, seven since they first met in Paris: a magical few days which had sealed their love. He'd told his publisher that he wanted to go out for the launch of the Australian edition of his novel. She was curious: he'd already turned down trips to New York, Toronto and Berlin, against her advice. Her eyes twinkled when he'd confessed:
- I'll need to see what I can do then Sandy.
And she'd delivered.
The announcement of the descent woke him from a doze, and he watched the shape of Sydney grow as the plane slipped through evening sunshine. Then the bump, planes and terminal buildings flashing by, runway lights slowing, like any other airport arrival in the world. But this wasn't. This was a new continent, and the start of a new chapter in his life.
*****
He moved through the procedures of international arrivals in a dwam. Melanie stood smiling as he emerged, her distinctive form in the silk dress which she'd worn when they first met in Paris. His woman. They were trembling as they melted into each other, moaning greetings. Barely noticed others tutting as their embrace blocked the centre of the exit. Eventually their faces parted. She smiled as she drew his hand from her arse, reached in her shoulder-bag, pressed something damp in his palm:
- As instructed darling. They got wet on the drive down. Had to stop. I kept them on when I wanked so I'd soak them for you. I didn't expect to squirt though, usually it takes you to do that. I was just... so excited.
The pools of her brown eyes fastened on his. His cock stiffened, and he raised the flimsy silk to his nose, not caring what others saw. Christ, her sexfragrance. Breathed deeply, absorbing her. He pocketed the panties:
- Jesus darling, what a beautiful welcome gift...
He had to drag her into a corner, pressed hard into her supple willingness as his hand stroked her knee. Christ, her skin again, her smell, sweat and the taste of her neck, sexscent rising as his palm slid up her thigh, her panting harsher, her moan and jerk as his fingers stroked the naked silken wetness, curled deep in her beloved cunt. His cunt. Her pupils moved upwards as his digits met her need. She was a quaking sexmess in his arms, and his hand and wrist were dripping. He shivered in joy at her pleasure: dear god, his beautiful Melanie.
She gradually re-emerged into the reality of the terminal building, stroked his cock through his loose trousers:
- Sorry darling, I want this in my throat. But you'll have to wait a bit.
He knew she was nervous about driving in the city and remained quiet as she navigated through lights and roundabouts. Then they were on the motorway heading south, and he felt the tension slide from her. Leaned over and kissed her cheek:
- You said it's about four hours to Canberra darling? I'm happy to spell you, you've already driven four hours to get here.
The smile he loved creased her features, and she glanced momentarily in his eyes:
- What, and entrust my life to a man more jetlagged than he's ever been in his life? Who's been on Australian roads for the first time, for all of twenty minutes? No, thank you darling. I had several hours in Sydney before your flight was due, had things to do, ate a good dinner. But I will need a break sometime. That'll rest me sufficiently.
- Mmm, yes, we both need a break sweet. We'd better wait till it's dark though.
- God I love you Sandy. Don't want to wait, but we need to clear the city. It'll be dark in half-an-hour, pitch black. Hardly any moon tonight, I checked. I thought of a good place to stop. But, there's coffee in the flask and some nibbles in the box, so would you take care of your driver's other needs meantime? Oh -- as his hand moved to his wescot pocket -- this is my car remember, and it's a no-smoking zone. Not -- she giggled -- like your stinky old heap.
- This one will be stinky soon enough love. Hope you brought towels? Don't want to mess your lovely car...
- Course I brought towels, dillbrain! Knew what we'd need. I don't want my curious children enquiring about cumstains on car seats. Now, give me some coffee and cake, and tell me about your trip.
*****
The only light in the sky as she drew off the busy road came from a rash of twinkling stars. She parked in the lee of a building, shielding the car from the stream of headlights on the motorway:
- It's a vehicle testing centre, not used at night love. Now, come here, I'm hungry to feel you properly. Oh god... how I need you.
- My sweetness, as I need you. All of you.
Their arms wrapped around each other. Mouths met gently, then swirled and twisted in passion. Everything was back, as though the months apart hadn't existed: her ethereal bodyscent, her skin as his fingers slid under the dress, firm breasts tight beneath his fingers, teats rising inexorably to his touch. He grunted, unzipped her carefully, and his mouth fused on her nipples as his hand slid up her inner thigh. Found the wetness it sought, and she opened to him:
- Oh Sandy mine, you've no idea how I've missed you, your love and your need...
- Mmm my darling -- he pushed her head back and his mouth fastened on her throat -- I belong to you, as I never have to anyone. You know -- his fingers were probing her delicious cunt and she squirmed in her arousal -- that my life's not been my own since we met. I'm yours Melanie, all yours. As this cunt is mine, all of you is mine. This throat that gives you life...
He bit her throat lightly, bent to smell her sex, taste her, banging his head on the steering wheel. His mouth found her, completely smooth this time, no tuft of hair above her mons, and he absorbed her unique raciness, sniffed, lapped and suckled. His fingers moved to enter her, he wanted to know her again, assuage her needs, sought to give her pleasure first before he took his with her.
She lifted his head, pushed him away gently. He watched mesmerised as she slipped the dress off, cast it on the back seat, all dark shadowed movements, and her cuntscent filled the car. His lover, naked but for thighhighs and driving shoes. He started to remove his shirt, but she growled softly:
- That's my job.
And she stripped him naked whilst he shifted in the seat to accommodate her movements. Then she leaned forward and pressed something on the dashboard. The seat moved till his legs were straight in the footwell, and his body followed suit as the seatback reclined to horizontal. Jesus. He hadn't had sex in a car since he'd sold his Morris minivan at Uni, and he was almost back in his early twenties as Melanie curved over him sinuously and swallowed his erection. Into her throat. Fucking unbelievable sensations: he'd never before been able to enjoy having his cock sucked, let alone throated. It hadn't been part of his sexual culture, ever. He'd always thought it demeaning to the woman, an act of service to the man, a sexual inequity foreign to his feminist training.
Until Melanie had taught him otherwise, explained that she liked it for herself, something to do with the power she exerted over him, as well as her own sensual reward. He didn't completely understand this but knew his own intense pleasure in loving her orally, so he'd eventually learned to relax, allow her to pleasure him. He did so now, watching as her head bobbed into his groin, lips, tongue and throat muscles loving and assured.
She'd done this to other men, he knew, as he'd taken pleasure with other women. There wasn't an ounce of jealousy in his body at the knowledge. It was part of who they had been, who they were, as though everything they had experienced before had been rehearsals for the continuing symphony of their love, essential and pleasurable preparations.
Her head was moving faster now, her throat and lips tightening on him. Fuck he wanted this, wanted to explode in her loving mouth, felt himself rising to her... but for this reunion, he needed her cunt. His fingers fastened in her fine hair and he dragged her mouth from him, gasped:
- Not that way my love, not this time. I'm tired from the journey, don't think I can go twice tonight. Want you properly, need your cunt. Now.
He watched her face recompose, and her eyes fell momentarily, then rose to meet his again:
- Yes... master. I want that too. So move, I need that seat.
He leaned over to the back, his cock bobbing in her face. Her tongue extended to flick him lightly and he quivered as he reached the towels, crouched back and spread them on the passenger seat. Then she was before him, legs spread outside his, cunt open, glimmers of starlight on the moisture between her lips. He crouched and lapped, needing time to allow himself to subside. Relished her joy and her need. Looked in her face, sexanguish etched on it:
- I love you Melanie. You know we'll find a way to make this work. I want you for the rest of my life.
