The Opening Of Melissa

The Opening of Melissa

By JustJake051

Chapter One

"Here guys, pretzels," "Melissa Stanhope said, setting the large bowl of snacks on the table in the tv room.

"Thanks, honey," her husband, Scott, said and took a playful swipe at his wife's butt as she walked past. The other three men in the room let out a chuckle or sneer, however one might choose to interpret it. Melissa took it as a sneer.

The problem was The Three Musketeers. She was forty-one years old, and she felt like she lived in a fraternity house with Scott, his brother Brad and Brad's buddies. When she married Scott six years ago, she didn't realize that she had also married his younger brother and his two old college pals, to boot. And she was getting tired of it. Her husband's brother, Brad, and his two buddies, were inseparable. They were always at the house, playing video games, watching sports, or just hanging out.

They called themselves "The Three Musketeers," but she privately referred to them as "The Three Stooges." Scott's brother Brad, Mark Herrington and Walter Miller, or Walt, as they called him, were always around. And Scott never did anything without all of them tagging along. And they certainly hadn't taken to Melissa when she and Scott first started dating. And when she first moved in with Scott, it was like she dropped a bomb in their boys' club and upset the balance of their little universe. And even now, after six years of marriage, the antagonisms and sarcastic comments were always directed at her. She and the boys just did not get along. And it seemed to be getting worse.

And it wasn't unusual for her to come down in the morning and find one or two of them asleep in the living room and one in the basement. The basement had a separate apartment, so Scott would let the guys stay there when a poker game ran late into the night, or a basketball game went into overtime. Brad, Scott's brother, was now staying in the basement for several months, while he was switching houses. Yet, Scott was always there for them. He always offered their home when they needed it. But with all that, Melissa never quite understood their open hostility toward her. "We're all a family and we need to get along," he would say, if she complained about Brad and the guys.

It wasn't that Scott Stanhope was a bad husband. He wasn't. He had a great job, was a good provider, and owned a local insurance agency on the outskirts of the city. Scott had inherited both the family insurance agency and the big family house in the Southeast. It was a house most folks could never afford, but Scott and Brad had been in it all their lives. Brad and his pals were five years younger than Scott, but Scott seemed to enjoy their company.

So, as this evening came to an end, it came as no surprise to Melissa that since the game ran long on television and into two overtimes, Walt asked to sleep over on the sofa. Melissa just went upstairs and went to sleep, leaving them to the game and the television.

The next morning Scott, Brad and Walt were gone, off to work and the house was empty. Melissa stared at her morning coffee cup on the table and wondered where she had lost her way. She used to be exciting, vivacious and the center of attention in her group. In college, grad school and at her job, she was always being noticed by men, and enjoyed the attention. When she entered a room, all eyes went to her, all the guys wanted her wink, her smile, just an acknowledgement that they might still have a chance with her.

Then she got married. Then divorced. Then she found Scott and she remarried.

Lost deep in self-thought this morning, she said, "Yep, and here I am." That was it, she realized - she was Ignored! "Bored and Ignored," she added aloud to herself. She hadn't wanted to give up her job and her career and the Rehab Center in Atlanta. With a degree in Psychology and a Masters in Rehabilitation and Wellness, Melissa thrived in her job. So much so that it often consumed her, around the clock, all her thoughts, all her energies. She had been good at her job, she remembered, really good. She loved running the Rehab Center and would have soon been up for a Regional Director job, in charge of six centers. But it was bad for her mental health and her first marriage. There was no work/life balance for her, just work. And that had ended her first marriage.

Then, an online dating service matched her with Scott, and it was perfect, a perfect match, except they lived in two different nearby cities. And she knew Scott would never move closer. After they were married, Melissa tried the commute, but it was grueling.

After six long months of commuting, Melissa decided she truly hated the drive, the stress, and the traffic. She'd had enough. It was only 85 miles to her workplace but that was 170 miles a day and it was awful. Scott urged her to quit her job, get her life back, and enjoy him and the marriage.

He wanted her to pay more attention to them and to give up her career to focus on home and maybe helping his insurance business, he suggested. It didn't work out that way after all. Melissa took a work-from-home job with a big pharmaceutical company, but that was disappointing. She wanted to work with people, face-to-face, with real people who needed her, like at the Rehab Center. She was now bored and tired of being ignored by her husband, so he could chum around with his younger brother and his pals.

Now her only solace was running. She ran whenever she could, as exercise, as therapy, as a way to stay in shape, and yes, as an escape. And she ran and ran and ran. The folks in the neighborhood would always see her out running, all the time, all weathers, her long brown ponytail swinging in rhythm as she ran. Her firm ass and tiny running shorts had caused quite a stir in the community when she first arrived, but by now the local men just smiled and waved when she ran past.

Melissa was 5 foot 5 inches tall, very fit and slim. The running kept her ass firm and taut and her legs gorgeous. "Not bad for 41," she thought to herself. She really didn't get into all of the glam, with the hours of makeup and such, but she had a natural beauty that suited her. Now, here she was, three weeks after celebrating her 41

st

birthday, Scott's perfect housewife and bored to tears. She took another sip of coffee and realized the coffee was stone cold. How long had she been daydreaming about her life and her state of perfectness - perfect boredom, rather.

"Oh, my God," she screeched. "The gutter guys!" The workmen would be here any minute to replace the gutters on the house. And she was still in her pajamas and hadn't even showered or put makeup on. Melissa ran upstairs to the bedroom, stripped down and started to head to the shower.

DING. DING. DONG.

The doorbell!

"WAIT A MINUTE," she yelled downstairs. "Damn!" she said to herself and grabbed a nearby pair of running shorts and a tank top and headed down the stairs. At the door, she opened it, just a crack, and stuck her head around the corner.

"Ms. Stanhope? Excuse us, we're here to..." one of the workmen said, and then was abruptly cut off by Melissa.

"RASHAD? Is that you?" Melissa yelped, and flung the door open, a giant smile on her face. Yes, it was! Rashad had been one of the men at the Rehab Center and Melissa had gone above and beyond to make sure that he would get help and find success.

"Oh, my God, it is you!" she said and leapt out onto the porch, throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

The other two workmen stood and watched while the attractive housewife, clad only in skimpy shorts and a loose-fitting tank top and no bra, clung to their colleague.

"Damn," one of the workers whispered aloud.

Hours later, pulling into the driveway leading to Scott's and Melissa's white colonial house, Walt Miller frowned. He had left his jacket at their house this morning after last night's game and sleeping on the sofa. He was just stopping by to pick it up. The gutter installation truck was blocking the driveway,

"Damn," Walt muttered, and parked on the street. The ladders were all packed on the truck, and the gutters finished. There was the truck, but no workmen in sight.

Walt opened the front door at Scott and Melissa's house without knocking, as he had done so many times before. The moment he opened the front door, he knew something was wrong. The strong odor of marijuana wafted throughout the house as he moved into the living room. And that was impossible. Melissa didn't smoke, didn't allow it in the house and she certainly didn't smoke marijuana. This was all wrong, he knew in an instant. Then he heard it.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOhhh," came ringing out from upstairs. The sounds resounded and echoed throughout the house.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh, YES! YES!" he heard, and he could have sworn that the voice was that of Melissa.

Slowly and quietly, he made his way up the stairs and down the hall toward the master bedroom.

"Oh God, yes!" Walt heard Melissa scream. "Do it! Yesss! Hard! Put that big cock in me. Harder. Hummmmmpphh!" Her voice was suddenly cut off and the sound muffled.

Slowly, Walt stuck his head around the corner and peered into the bedroom. There, on the king-sized bed, was Melissa, and three men. Melissa Stanhope was straddling on top of a large black man lying on the bed beneath her, his massive cock crammed into her tight cunt. Behind her, a young skinny white guy was pounding his stiff cock into her tight, pink ass hole. A third man, also black, was on his knees at the head of the bed, his rigid, glistening cock sliding wildly in and out of Melissa's mouth, as she sucked furiously to keep up.

Walt couldn't believe his eyes. He had known Melissa for several years now but never would have expected anything like this. The beautiful wife of his best friend's brother was tightly sandwiched between the three men, with every opening in her body stuffed with cock. And she was going wild, obviously loving every minute of it. The two men in her cunt and ass sawed back and forth in a frantic rhythm, as they punched and counterpunched their cocks into the brunette beauty.

"C'mom girl! Get it!" the large black man under Melissa growled. "Do it!"

"YES, fuck me!" Melissa moaned, as she pulled the large cock out of her mouth. "I... Oh god, yes... I want it, I want that cock," she wailed.

Then Walt watched as Melissa grabbed the stiff ebony cock bobbing in front of her face and crammed it back into her mouth. She sucked furiously as the man pumped his hips hard against her face, jamming his slippery cock as far down her throat as he could.

"UMMMMMMMFFPPP," was the only sound that escaped her mouth.

Walt was frozen. He was totally stunned and confused. He felt like he was in some absurd fairy tale, where the guy shows up from work, and walks in on the housewife having sex with someone else. Absurd, cliché, and almost laughable. But this was really happening. His mouth was dry, and his mind reeled. Should he turn around quietly and slip away? Should he call Brad and tell him? Should he call Scott and tell him? Then it came to him. This might be a situation his buddy Brad could take advantage of. He slipped his phone from his pocket and quickly started recording a video on his phone's camera. Assured that this would not be a case of "he said, she said," the video would be proof when Brad needed to tell Scott. He would have this video in hand, and it was clear that Melissa was not being forced but was clearly enjoying herself. "Damn," he muttered to himself. Walt knew what he needed to do and quickly decided to act.

For the next fifteen minutes Walter Miller secretly recorded the wild sex of Melissa and the three men. When he finished, he quietly slipped away unnoticed, got in his car, and drove off, knowing that he would be back tomorrow.

Chapter Two

For the rest of that day and all of that night, Melissa agonized. She found herself sitting around the kitchen the next morning, again lost in thought. Yesterday, with Rashad and the two workmen, why had she tried that little bit of the marijuana that they offered? Rashad said it was strong, with a "little something extra," he called it. But then the sex! Had she fought back at all, did she resist enough? Any? Or did she really want to cheat on Scott? She couldn't think, had no answers for yesterday. And for several hours, she had wild, uninhibited sex with three men, as they swapped her around and used her in every possible way they could. But she did know that she had never been fucked like that in her entire life. Certainly not by two men at the same time, much less three. Did she ever even say no? She couldn't remember. And why did she enjoy it so much?

She tried to remember it all. They were all sitting around, talking, laughing, distracted. Okay, she remembered that. She got stoned with Rashad and the two guys. Okay, she remembered that. Then one thing led to another and before she knew it, she had all three of the men in bed fucking her. Had they forced her - did she seduce them because perhaps she really did want to cheat on Scott? She had no answer.

That evening it seemed like back to the usual hostilities at the house. The wild sex with the gutter men now seemed never to have happened. Scott, his brother Brad and the other two guys were all gathered around the television, drinking beer, and yelling at the television, encouraging their favorite team.

"Honey, do we have any more chips?" Scott asked, focused solely on the big screen tv.

"I think so. I'll check," she said, and Melissa headed to the kitchen.

"You're looking good tonight, Melissa," Walt said as she passed near him.

"What?" she said and stopped. Melissa wasn't sure whether that was sarcasm or not. But it probably was.

"You look good tonight," Walt repeated.

Scott watched the little exchange and smiled along with Brad and Mark.

"C'mon guys. Guys, don't you think Melissa looks good tonight?" Walt said.

The guys all laughed. "Yeah, sure," one of them chimed in. Scott didn't know what to think. But at least they were talking to her. And he was tired of it always being a war zone with Melissa and the guys. With them, it was always a war zone.

"Thanks, Walt," she said defensively and a little confused, and headed into the kitchen.

Scott broke out laughing, and soon Brad and Nick were howling along as well. Scott just loved that the gang was possibly beginning to accept Melissa a little. But most of all, he wanted his brother to like her, to get along.

Still wary of the sudden niceness from one of the guys, Melissa headed into the kitchen pantry and back to the fridge. Opening the refrigerator, she pulled out several containers of dip and another beer for Scott. Closing the refrigerator door, Melissa Stanhope jumped in fear, startled by someone now standing next to her. There, standing behind the refrigerator door, was Walt Miller.

"Hey Melissa, I was serious about that in there. You look great, tonight. You do. Oh, hey, here, check this out. It's something I found on my phone. You'll love it. It's something I wanted to show you. Here, take a look. Let me just turn the sound down for now," Walt said in a low whisper.

He held out his phone for her to see. There, playing on Walt's phone, was the video of Melissa fucking the three workmen.

"Ohhh..." Melissa said as she turned pale, then flushed red, first with embarrassment and then anger.

"What... how? Please Walt, please, don't show that to anyone. How did you...?" she said between clenched teeth, still watching herself on the small phone screen. Melissa paused for a moment.

"Listen, please delete that, Walt. Please don't show that to Scott. Or Brad. Or anyone." Her green eyes flashed with fear.

"Oh, cut the crap! What do you care what they think? You were fucking three gutter guys. That's pretty clear from the video. Oh, yes... and I was there! I saw it," he snarled in a low whisper.

"They drugged me!!" Melissa whispered.

"Oh, Bullshit! I don't think Scott's gonna care if you say you were drugged. I don't think Scotts insurance clients are gonna care. Or, you know, your neighbors or anyone else that I show this video to, is gonna care. No, you were doing some solid, hard fucking with these three guys. And you loved it. You were airtight - you know what that means? All holds filled, Melissa. So, I think you and I are going to negotiate a little deal. Just between us."

Walt stopped the video and slipped his phone into his pocket. "You be nice to me and I'll keep our little secret. And Scott won't have to see this," he said, reaching around and grabbing a handful of her tight ass and pulling her towards him, their hips now pressed together.

"Damn, do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" Walt leaned down and whispered, their two faces now just inches apart.

Trembling with fear and rage, Melissa whispered "Just don't show that to anyone. Please."

Melissa turned and quickly went into a back room in kitchen, as Walt returned to the game in the tv room. She stood in the pantry room, trembling. If she hid in there, Scott would know something was wrong. She had to try and act normal until she could figure out how to get Walt to delete that video and keep quiet about what he'd seen.

As she carried snacks back into the tv room, Melissa tried to stay calm. Suddenly, Walt swatted her on the ass, mimicking what they've seen Scott do so many times before. The room erupted in laughter.

Melissa tried to force a smile. It wasn't a very good one. Later that night, after the game finished, Mark headed out, but Walt stayed behind. "Scott, you mind if I stay over again tonight?" Walt said. "A few too many beers to be driving."

"Absolutely, stay here. I've got your car insurance, remember?" Scott said, and the two of them laughed.

Scott headed upstairs to bed as Melissa stood at the bottom and called up. "You go ahead and go. I'm going to clean up down here."

Melissa worked in the kitchen for a few minutes then noticed Walt signaling to her. Walt motioned for her to come down into the basement. She shook her head fiercely no, and started looking around, knowing that Brad was still somewhere close by. Walt quickly disappeared down into the basement doorway.

Melissa started to clear the kitchen counter but suddenly felt someone close behind her. Very close behind her, a body pressing against her ass. It was Brad, his head over her shoulder and now whispering into her ear.

"I just saw the video, you know. Walt showed it to me. I should show it to my brother, but I think you need to come down to the basement and talk to us first. Boy, Melissa, from what I saw of that video, it seems you really know your way around a man's cock. You come down to the basement and we don't say anything to Scott. Promise."

Angry that this was being done to her, she threw the kitchen towel onto the counter and headed down to the basement, knowing she had to figure a way out of this without Scott ever finding out. When she walked into the basement bedroom, she was stunned. There was Walt, trousers on the floor, and naked from the waist down.

Walter Miller was certainly not the ideal physical shape for a thirty something man, Melissa thought. He was a little flabby and carried a little more weight than he should have. But then, her body fat was next to nothing, and she knew she wasn't a fair judge. Walt was the tallest of the group, at 6 foot 4 inches, but certainly not the most physically adept of the group. Clumsy would have been a word some used to describe Walt. But there was nothing clumsy about his penis.

"Oh, my God," Melissa thought, staring at the large erection Walt sported, as he stood next to the bed. "He's huge."

Walt flopped backwards onto the bed, his giant erection now draped across his stomach.