Meeting Melissa

What do you call the daughter of your third wife's first husband's first wife? I don't really know the answer, but "hot" is what came to mind when I first met her.

My wife had been her 'mother' during her turbulent teenage years and had remained in her life, while her father had not. She came to visit us for two weeks between jobs, and I had never seen her, though I had heard all about her wild promiscuity, her pregnancies, and the resulting abortions.

She also told me that Melissa was mixed race. To be exact, she was an octoroon. In the Old South women who were one-eighth black were called 'high yellow' or 'octoroon.' It generally was accepted that they had the best features of both races, though I know of nothing scientific that justifies the conclusion. My wife told me Melissa had mingled feelings about this, sometimes hiding her heritage, sometimes bragging about it. I didn't know what to expect.

I was not prepared for a tall olive skinned beauty with hair as black as India ink and eyes that were as playful as her smile. To say I was struck speechless is not too far off the mark. She hugged me, as a new 'in-law' but I was too focused on the breasts she pressed against me to really hear what she said.

She played the part of the worldly twenty-something, disparaging my dog as 'little and ugly,' and pointing out all the reasons her car was cooler than mine. She could have bitch-cussed me, as long as I could look at her, be in the same room with her, have an excuse to sit on the couch and smell her.

Yeah, I was thirty years older than she was, yeah 'could have been her father', but she was so smoking hot I felt like I was going to drool. That always impresses the young ones, when you drool.

After a couple of days, I was still laying in bed with a hard on thinking of her just down the hall. That's when my wife got sick. Turned out to have a ruptured appendix, and so she spent a week in the hospital. Melissa and I spent several hours in the ER until we knew the score, but then it was pointless for us to stay. She was sedated, prepped for surgery, in the staging area. It was 3am, and we took their advice and went home for the night.

We were both wired, so I suggested a glass of wine, and then another. She wound up with her head on my shoulder, sobbing about her love for my wife. I loved her too, but right then I had a throbbing boner, and it was doing the thinking. I kissed her on the cheek, and then we sort of turned into each other, and suddenly her tongue was in my mouth and all thought of my wife was gone.

She really knew how to kiss, and she worked me to a frenzy with her licking and sucking, and that was before I touched her. I hesitantly slid a hand up to cup one firm young tit, and I almost came then! She pulled her top off, and unsnapped her bra, and I was sucking on the darkest, hardest nipples I had tasted in years, if ever! Her skin was so smooth and warm. She started squirming and moaning, and I could smell her arousal.

"We can't, we can't," she murmured in my neck. "She's like my mother."

I pulled back an inch and turned her head so she was looking in my eyes.

"Melissa," I said, "I'm not your father. It's natural for you to feel overwhelmed with this. We don't have to progress to sex. (but oh, please God, let us!)"

"I feel like a fool," she said as she dropped her eyes, "no, a whore. I deal with everything by using sex."

"Well, I'm not going to take advantage of you. Why don't you come sleep in the bed with me, and we can cuddle together, but we won't do anymore kissing or fooling around. Just be together, ok?"

"You would really do that? You don't want to fuck me?"

"I'd love to give you pleasure, to make love to you a hundred ways, but not if you're going to feel like I used you."

She cried some more, and then meekly followed me to the bedroom where she stripped naked and crawled in beside me, while I remained in my briefs. I had to; my erection would have made lying near her impossible if it weren't restrained.

In a few minutes she was sleeping like a child (she IS a child, you old fool!) while I held her in my arms and smelled her womanly smells. I actually went to sleep sometime, because I woke up with her still there. She was awake, looking at me.

"Boy, you must be blind to look at me first thing in the morning," I said.

"I think you hair standing up like a cockatoo s cute," she pronounced. "Thanks for... well, you know. I'm such a slut!" Tears brimmed.

"None of that. Sex is not something nasty; it is an expression of love." I pulled her close, (still naked) and kissed her on the forehead, keeping my enormous morning wood away from her. "Go start breakfast!"

I wanted to pee and brush my teeth. That done, I went to the kitchen where Melissa wore a tee-shirt of mine, and apparently nothing else. I 'accidentally' booty-bumped her as I passed her, and she smiled and returned the favor. I suggested we go visit the hospital, which we did, and saw my wife plugged into dozens of machines and sound asleep. They told us she was fine, but wouldn't be awake for another 24 hours, and we couldn't visit except one hour three times a day.

We picked up a few groceries, causing several more accidental body contacts, as many from her as from me. When we got home and put them all away, she asked what the plans were.

"I'm not going back to work this week, so I guess we hang out."

Hang out we did, trading some mp3s, including one of hers called "fuck her gently" which isn't much of a song but is sure a broad hint! She also said that sometimes she enjoyed driving with her seat pushed way back, slumped down low, with Rap music booming.

"Why do you think I do that?"

"I think we both know," I replied, and she blushed a dark flush.

I sat on the couch, and she curled up on the other end.

"Jim, you look really tired."

"Well, I'm beat, I guess. Stressful night, you know."

"I'm really good at massage. Let me do your shoulders."

Who in their right mind would pass on that? I turned my back to her, but she tugged on my shirt.

"Don't you want it bare-back?" She really knew how to drive an old man crazy.

She began to rub and squeeze my shoulders and my neck. No question it felt great! After a few minutes, she started kissing the same areas. I wasn't going to turn it down twice; she was cold sober and had slept all night, unmolested by an old pervert.

I twisted and pulled her over so I could return the kiss, and then rotated completely so we were facing. Then I slid back and pulled her on top of me, and she came with no resistance. This time I kissed as fervently as she did; this time I pulled her top off and felt her diamond hard nipples rub my chest.

I lifted her shoulders to mouth her breasts, and she enthusiastically fed them to me, first one and then the other. I made no effort to disguise my adamantine dick, and she certainly moved as if she was well aware of its presence. In a perfect world I would have scooped her up and carried her to the bed; the reality is that I suggested we go there, and she walked on her own.

When we stood at the side of the bed, I slipped her shorts and panties off, and was immediately assailed by the rich aroma of a woman in sexual arousal. She had a musk unlike any I remembered and I think the smell alone would have acquitted me before any jury of men, if they could smell her too.

She knelt and undid my belt, then looked in my eyes as she pushed my pants and undies to my ankles. I had left the loafers on the living room floor. She turned and climbed onto the bed, swaying her magnificent ass as she did. I climbed in behind her, never breaking eye contact.

This time when we kissed it was explosive. My hands were all over her, and hers on me, and we kissed as starving people eat. It all became a blur of smooth skin and warm recesses. I have memories of her astride me, her boobs bouncing restrained only by my hands; me buried to the hilt on top of her with her legs clasped at my waist; her on hands and knees as I drove in from behind, and her screaming and moaning and howling as I poured load after load in her tight hot pussy. I cannot separate them into single acts, however, it seems like an endless fuck, an hours long sex act.

We lay back and caught our breath, she lay against my side.

"No one has ever allowed me to back off before," she said, looking at my toes.

"This is backing off?" I said.

"You know, last night. I wanted to then, but you didn't jump me at the first chance, and you're the only one who's ever been that good to me." Tears threatened again.

I pulled her in tighter, head up to shoulder. "You are a remarkable, beautiful, sexy woman. You don't need to sell yourself short, ever."

She smiled and put her hand on my cock, which snapped back to focus. With a wicked smirk she leaned over and sucked my shaft into her mouth, rolling the head around with her tongue. That was a fine tongue! She crawled around to lie so that she faced me with her head at pelvic level. Her long hair spilled over my gut, maddening in its drifting masses.

She bobbed up and down on my penis while gently stroking my balls. Her finger sneaked into my asshole, and just as I was ejaculating, she shoved it in! I am amazed I didn't blow her head off I came so hard! She squirmed up alongside me, and offered me a snowball of my cum and her spit, which I took gladly. We shared the flavor in another long languorous kiss.

Now it was my turn to show off, and we reversed positions, so that I could lick every inch of her glorious cunt. She was shaved, but with a landing strip left. Her pubic hair was so dark and dense that I was amazed at the feathery texture. It looked like wire, but tasted like air.

I licked her entire pussy, from one side to the other and from anus to clit. I dove in and tried to lick her navel from the inside. I rimmed her asshole and drove my tongue deep inside her there. Then I went back to her clit, and sucked it full on while I ran two fingers in and out of her soft wet vagina. She thrashed beneath me and I heard the sounds I was learning to love, her deep moans of approaching climax. Finally she slammed against my face as her orgasm swept her away.

God, it's only four pm!" she said. "What will we do tonight?"

After another useless trip to the hospital, she came to the bed without my asking, and stripped efficiently and quickly.

"Would you think I was weird if I told you I liked it up the ass?" She asked.

Has any man ever answered that question "Yes?"

I had no lube, no Vaseline, no KY. Desperation calls for inventiveness.

"You ever used lard before?" I knew we had some of that.

She didn't object, and I ran to the pantry, hard dick bouncing as I ran, and grabbed the lard. I slathered her ass and my rod with a half a pound or so, and then got behind her as she kneeled. She helped me guide my rigid member to her tight rear entrance, and as I pushed her muscles slowly gave way. I felt the slipping as a steady pressure, until I passed her entrance, and then suddenly my head was completely in, and my shaft had no resistance.

"Fuck me, Fuck my ass, and fuck me like a naughty whore!" She screamed. I complied.

The tightness of her back door was incredible! It was so warm and hot that I might have melted and died. I did not melt, however; if anything, I got harder the longer I fucked her. She bucked back against me and drilled her ass on my erection. I rammed until I thought I couldn't go any longer, and she took up the slack. Over and over she banged against me, as I desperately tried to just keep up.

'I'm cumming! I'm cumming, I cumming from having my ass fucked!" she screamed, and then spasmed so hard I thought she would kill me. I squirted gism I didn't know I had, and flooded her rectum with gallons and gallons of white ropy spunk.

I've never had a sexual experience with someone of another race. I don't know if a mixed race person who looks Caucasian even 'officially' counts. I do know I've heard the expression, "Once you go Black you never go back."

That's wrong. I intend to go back every chance I get.