Chronicles Of Melissa

"You write dirty stories?" Melissa asked me, sounding slightly uneasy.

"Erotic," I corrected her.

"Whatever," she said.

The four of us sat around our patio table under the big umbrella, drinking Mojitos and munching on melon, salsa and chips. It was a Saturday afternoon in late June, warm but not uncomfortably hot. The weekend before, Melissa had manipulated her husband, Mike, into a swap session with my wife, Stacy. It had been Stacy's idea that I craft an erotic story about the events from our viewpoint. Mike was reading the draft on my laptop as Melissa engaged in her interrogation of me.

"Most of them are just our fantasies," Stacy volunteered.

"I didn't know you could write," Melissa observed to me.

"Well, there's some difference of opinion on that front," I chuckled. "I occasionally get feedback indicating that I can't write worth a damn."

"Hm," Melissa huffed briefly. "Why? Why do you do it?"

I shrugged. "It's fun to let my imagination run amok and come up with situations I find sexy and exciting."

"Lot's of them are very sexy and exciting," Stacy chipped in. "I get really turned on reading them."

"Oh, yeah!" Mike blurted out as he read.

I looked at Stacy and grinned.

"Tell us," Stacy demanded.

"Uhm," Mike mumbled, flicking up the page, trying to decide where to start. "Okay. Here it is.

'Stacy's eyes met mine, though it took her a second to recognize me through her passion. "Oh, Steven," she moaned. "Please, can I fuck him now? Please say I can fuck him now. I need him to fuck me."

"Of course, baby," I whispered back to her. "I'm here now. You can fuck him."

"Oh, geez, baby," Stacy moaned to Mike, her hands pulling his head away from her. "Come on up here and fuck me. I need to feel your cock inside me."'

"Holy crap, that is hot!" he finished.

"You wrote that?" Melissa asked me.

"I guess so," I told her.

"Isn't that excellent?" Stacy said, nearly bouncing in her chair.

"I still don't get it," Melissa said.

"Look," I told her, "this kind of stuff may not be for everyone. But, don't you sometimes have fantasies? Thoughts roll through your head about things you like to try or something you'd like to have happen to you. I just write them down so I can share them with Stacy. The whole idea is to stoke up the libido, that's all. Some people prefer to watch porno movies. I like reading and writing stories."

"Why don't you just do it?" Melissa asked.

I laughed aloud. "Because, honey, other people are involved. Maybe they don't want to actually do it. Maybe they just like imagining it. I mean, suppose every guy who'd like to screw you or Stacy just showed up at the door wanting a piece of tail. I bet that would make you pretty uncomfortable."

"Do you write about other people?" Melissa wanted to know.

"Sometime," I nodded. "Mostly, though, they're just imaginary."

"Just fucking incredible," Mike said, passing the laptop back to Stacy. "It gave me a woody. What do you say, Stacy. You want to give me some relief?"

"Later," Stacy grinned at him. "Let your wife read it, first."

Melissa took the laptop Stacy pushed toward her across the table. The dark-haired vixen picked it up and began reading.

"I liked that part at the end," Mike said, reaching over to stroke Stacy's bare shoulder. "You know..."

"Shush!" Stacy ordered. "Don't ruin it for her."

We sat quietly sipping and munching as Melissa read carefully through the story. It took her about five minutes. When she was finished, she looked at me over the top of the screen.

"Your wife thinks I'm a slut?" she said.

"Uh, no," I responded feeling defensive. "She said you behaved like one with me. You'll notice that I liked it, too."

"You didn't say a lot about you and me," she noted.

"That's because the general subject of all my stories is Stacy, what she does, says, and how she behaves. If you want me to write about you, then you're going to have to tell me how you feel, what you're thinking, and what your reactions are," I told her. I looked toward Stacy. "I'd love to do a series about you, though, if you'd like. But, you're going to have to share intimate details with me."

"Oh, that's a great idea!" Stacy exclaimed. "I'd love to read the chronicles of Melissa, wouldn't you, Mike?"

"That would be awesome," Mike said. "The intimate inside story of Melissa as related to her fuck-buddy, Steve."

Melissa flushed. I jumped in to try to relieve some of her embarrassment.

"You probably noticed that Stacy is very vocal," I began. "She generally blurts out whatever she's feeling. You, on the other hand, are more reserved. In order to know your reactions and impressions, you'll have to share them with me. Not with the whole world, like Stacy does, but just to me."

"So, I should tell you that your story made me hot and horny and I'd like to fuck you right now?" Melissa said contentiously.

"If that's what you're feeling," I chuckled. "You saw in the story where I included the part where you told me you wanted my cock inside you? That's the kind of information I need."

"So, you want to write stories about me and how I feel when I fuck you?" Melissa offered.

"Me, Mike, and anybody else you want to include," I joked.

"Let's just start with you," she grinned self-consciously. "How do we start?"

"Just tell me about this morning," I suggested. "What were you thinking when you decided we should get together."

Melissa looked at me strangely. She nodded her head at Mike and Stacy. "In front of them?"

"No, of course not, if you're not comfortable," I said. I turned toward Stacy. "You two want to go inside and fuck while Melissa and I have our chat?"

Stacy grinned broadly. She reached out her hand to Mike. "Come on," she said, standing up and pulling him with her. "Let's go take care of your hard on."

"Well, it's gone down now," Mike protested.

"Not to worry, darling," Stacy told him. "I think I can get it back for you."

Mike grinned at me as the two of them disappeared through the French doors leading to the house with much giggling and grabbing. I turned back to Melissa.

"Okay," I said. "Tell me your deepest thoughts and emotions."

"I've been thinking about last Saturday all week," she began. "Mike and I have been fucking every night and every morning since then. We always liked sex. But, somehow, there's been an added spark to it since Saturday. I've wanted a cock inside me constantly since then. I liked the way it felt when you fucked me. Each time since then it was almost a repeat of the times we were together. It's been great, but it wasn't the same. So, today, well Friday, actually, I thought we should try to get back together so we could do it again. I asked Mike, and he was enthusiastic. So, I called Stacy and suggested we get together today."

I nodded and smiled at her. "Just so you know, the same thing has been happening at our place. Stacy has just been a dynamo since Saturday. She's been quite open about how much she enjoyed being with Mike and couldn't wait for another opportunity."

"So, I'm not the only slut in the bunch," she grinned at me.

"You know, Melissa, just because you like the sex doesn't make you a slut. It just means you're vibrant and alive. I like it, and I'll bet Michael does, too."

"The way I grew up," she said, "the girls who liked to fuck were sluts."

"The way I grew up," I answered, "the girls who liked to fuck were angels."

Melissa laughed. "That is such a man-perspective," she said.

"So," I continued, "tell me about your feelings this morning. Did you and Michael have sex this morning?"

"Of course," she said, scoffing.

"Tell me about it," I probed.

"I reminded Michael he needed to get ice and the makings for the drinks while we were lying in bed. We've been sleeping in the nude since Saturday. I could see he had a woody. I told him he was ready to plow Stacy's furrow. He said he would be later but that he wanted to fuck me first. So, I just climbed over him and sat on his cock."

"And how did that feel?"

Melissa pondered for a few seconds. "I like the feeling of having him inside. It just fills me up. So, I sat there for a while just enjoying the feeling of him being there. Then he said he wanted to do it from behind."

"And you like that, him being behind you and plunging his cock into you?"

"That's one my favorites. You should know that. We did that last Saturday."

"I remember. I just wanted to know if you liked it."

"I do. So, I got off him and knelt on the bed. He stood up and put himself right at the entrance. Then, all of a sudden, he pushed it all the way in. It made me gasp, it felt so good."

"Did you come?"

"After a little bit. He held onto my hips and just pumped himself into me time after time. It felt great!"

"And, when you came, did you moan or cry out?"

"I...no, I don't think so."

"Did you want to?"

"I did, kind of. But, I never have. I always kept it inside, you know? Nice girls don't let on they're coming."

"There's another fallacy we're going to have to deal with. Nice girls do make noise when they come. Some moan, some cry. Stacy hollers. It's okay to do that."

"I never have," Melissa said.

"That's too bad," I told her. "A man loves to hear the woman he's with have an orgasm. It tells him she's enjoying the fuck. So, I take it Michael came inside you?" I continued.

"Yes. He pulled my hips to his and pumped all his goo inside me."

"And, tell me how you felt afterwards."

"Good," Melissa said. "I felt pretty good. But, it didn't last very long."

"Was that because you were looking forward to us coming over?"

"I guess it was. I had this thrill. My heart was pounding and I felt this knot in my belly all morning as we got ready. I kept thinking how nice you felt inside me. I kind of planned to do a little more exploring with you, too. I want to look at your cock. I want to kiss it, and feel it in my hands and even in my mouth."

I felt the stirrings in my loins. "That's nice to hear," I said.

"Every time I thought about that, I'd get this little rush of excitement running through me."

"Stacy told me about you sucking on Mike's cock and then rubbing it across her breasts. She said that was very exciting."

"I saw that in your story," Melissa said.

"The idea of you kissing and sucking my cock is making me hard," I informed her.

"Can I see?" she asked.

"Of course," I answered, standing up and dropping my shorts to my ankles. My semi-turgid cock bounced in front of me. "There you go," I said. "You can touch it or do whatever else. But, you have to tell me what you're thinking when you do it."

"Okay," Melissa said softly, reaching out to brush her fingers on my meat.

"It's a very nice cock," she said. "It's a little larger than Michael's. Fuller around. It feels very smooth and warm. I want to kiss the skin right here at the end."

She grasped my meat at the root and leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the head.

"The skin is soft," she murmured. Her pink tongue dipped out and licked across it. "Mmm," she hummed. "I like how that feels on my tongue, too. It's firm but smooth. I think it is a nice cock. And I remember last Saturday when it was inside me. I liked how that felt, too."

"You're doing a great job of telling me what you're thinking. Tell me what you're feeling."

"That's, well, that's not hard. I mean, I feel so excited. I'm holding your cock in my hand and kissing it. It's not Michael's cock, it's yours, so that's very exciting to me. Mike likes it when I kiss it all along the length of it. I want to see if you like it, too."

"I'm sure I will," I said.

Melissa's soft lips pressed and sucked slightly time after time, moving up my meat toward the root a millimeter at a time. By now it was fully erect. Each time her lips make their soft contact with my flesh I could feel a tiny swipe of her tongue across the skin. When her lips finally reached the interference of her hand at the root, she reversed direction and planted tender kisses down its length to the tip.

"Tell me, Melissa. Tell me what you're thinking and feeling."

"I'm thinking I'm making love to your cock," she said. "My heart is just pounding in my chest. I'm feeling so excited and loving and I want to put it in my mouth."

"Do you want me to do anything?"

"Not yet. Just be here," she said, then pulled the head of my cock toward her lips and engulfed it in her mouth.

I groaned. "You see," I managed to get out. "My groaning tells you how much I like the feel of your mouth around my cock."

Melissa gave a little hum sending pleasure waves through my cock and into my balls.

She was not inexperienced, to be sure. In fact, she was quite expert. This was not a teaching session, I reminded myself. I was doing research for my story on Melissa. She was, however, unable to communicate much with her mouth full of my meat.

"Melissa, honey," I admonished her. "You can't talk to me."

She slid her lips off the tip of my rod, licking at the slit.

"Tell me what you were thinking," I begged.

She wiped a trace of spittle off the corner of her mouth with her thumb. "I was thinking how nice your full cock felt in my mouth. I hoped I was as good as Stacy and that you wouldn't be disappointed. I wondered if you'd like it if I made you come. Then I thought if I made you come, we'd have to wait to fuck until you got hard again. Then I thought about Michael, and what he would think if he could see me with your cock in my mouth."

"What do you suppose he would think?"

"I think it would turn him on. He seemed to like it when I fucked you. I'm betting he'd think it was hot that I was sucking on you."

"Do you want him to watch you do that?"

"I think that would be hot," Melissa said.

"Well, let's go find them," I suggested.

"But, what if they're, you know," she hesitated.

"Fucking? So what? I like to watch Stacy fuck. Besides, I think it would be hot to hear you tell him you want him to watch you suck me off."

Melissa stood up. "Okay. I want him to watch me swallow your come."

"Do you do that for him?" I asked.

"I have," she said.

"I sense some hesitation," I said as we walked toward the house.

"He told me he didn't like it. He thought it was degrading."

"What do you think?"

"I think I want to show him I'm a fucking slut, and I'm going to swallow your come because I want to, and it isn't degrading to me."

We climbed the stairs and found Michael and Stacy in the spare bedroom. Stacy had mounted him and was riding his cock.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked.

"I'm fucking Michael," Stacy said, panting.

"What's wrong with our room?"

Stacy stopped bouncing on Mike. "I thought you'd be pissed if I fucked him in our bed."

I shook my head. "I don't care, Trace. Really. Wherever you like. Meantime, Melissa has a request."

I nodded at Melissa.

"Michael," she said, dropping down to her knees. "I want you to watch me suck his cock."

"You got to be shitting me," Mike said.

"Nope," Melissa said, kissing the bottom of the head of my cock. "Watch your wife, the hot slut cocksucker."

With that, she sucked my meat into her mouth, holding the root with one hand, and placing the other on my hips. She looked into my face and smiled around my meat.

"She's good," I told Mike.

"I thought she didn't like it," he said.

"Guess you thought wrong," I groaned as Melissa's hand cupped my balls.

"Can I go back to fucking him?" Stacy asked.

"If you like," I told her. "Melissa didn't say she wanted you to stop. She just said she wanted Mike to watch her."

Melissa slurped and licked, caressing my meat and my ass, cupping my balls and scratching them lightly.

"You want me to tell you when I'm going to come?" I asked, my voice strained with the exertion.

She shook her head slightly, which interrupted her rhythm. She hummed in frustration and started anew to establish a tempo. The humming reverberated through my loins and made me trembled.

I looked toward the bed and saw my wife hitching her hips on Mike. His eyes were fixed on his wife as her mouth alternately consumed and revealed my rod. It was shiny-slick with her saliva. His eyes met mine for a moment.

"She seems to like this," I told him. "She's damned good at it, too."

"She looks hot," he murmured, his hands grasping my wife's hips as she thrust on him.

I could feel the burning and churning in my balls as Melissa masturbated my meat with her mouth. She was about to get a load of my man-juice. I hoped she was ready. The burning went to the back of my knees and then to the front of my thighs. A groan escaped my throat as the cream began to boil through my plumbing.

"Oh, fuck, Melissa," I moaned, my hands caressing but not restraining her head.

She hummed again, but in anticipation this time. Her hand kept pumping, but her lips simply held me, her tongue milking the come from my cock. I didn't see her swallow because I was looking at the ceiling as I blasted my load into her waiting mouth.

I moaned again as the pulsations subsided, then looked down to see Melissa's bright eyes looking up into mine. I nodded and smiled.

Melissa backed away and stood up. She walked toward the joined couple on the bed. As I collapsed into a quivering lump on the carpet next to the bed, Melissa knelt down next to her husband. She opened her mouth to show him the load of come she'd captured. Then she swallowed the load while he watched.

"Did you see that?" she asked in a soft whisper.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Did I look like a slut?"

"Yeah! You looked hot."

"I like come, Michael," she said, seriously. "I like his come and yours. I like the way it feels and how it tastes. I like feeling the cock pumping it into my mouth. You have to let me do it."

"Yes, baby," he whispered. "Any time you want."

"It's not degrading, Michael. I do it because I want to, because I like to."

"Okay," he said.

Melissa moved next to me and put her arms around me. "Poor baby," she cooed. "Did I use you up?"

I chuckled. "Yeah, a little," I replied.

"Come with me," she said, standing up and extending a hand.

I smiled at the incongruity of this naked minx standing in front of me and encouraging me to stand. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"I'm going to take you to your bedroom and fuck you in your bed," Melissa said.

"Uh, Stacy," I mumbled.

"Go!" she said. "The two of you are interfering with our fun."

"But, our bed," I stammered. "I mean..."

"Go, dammit!" Stacy yelled. "I've fucked you there. She might as well, too!"

Melissa and I walked to our room. She chuckled. "The scene of the crime."

"Scene of what crime?" I asked.

"Where the two of you cooked up this plan," she said.

"There was no plan," I protested. "Besides, you're the one who started this."

"You want to know what I'm thinking now, for your story?" she asked, pulling the covers off the queen-sized bed.

"Uh, yeah, sure," I responded.

"I'm thinking about how I'm going to fuck you here, and that every time Stacy and you have sex in this bed, you're going to be able to remember we did it here, too."

"That's a little devious and evil," I noted.

"A girl's got to have her devices," Melissa said, stripping herself naked in front of me. "The only thing better will be screwing in my bed."

"You want that?"

"Of course. That way, if Michael isn't up to snuff on the odd occasion, I'll have the memory of how you fucked me in my bedroom."

I shook my head. "That's a whole lot to digest."

Melissa climbed into the center of the bed and face me, her knees cocked in the air and her elbows resting on them, an impish grin on her face. "You want to fuck me?"

"Yes, of course I do."

"Are you going to eat my pussy first?"

"I'd love to eat your pussy first."

"Well, come on, then. I'm waiting. And, I promise to tell you everything while you're doing it."