Robert Mills - Slut wife

Melissa frowned, shifted her gaze away, to keep from showing her startled confusion.

The blonde failed to notice her reaction. She finished her makeup, rose from the vanity. She picked up her bag.

"Nice to see you again. Stanton, isn't it?" Melissa nodded. "It's Melissa-Melissa Stanton." The blonde studied her. "Always did like your peaches-and-cream complexion. It goes so well with short skirts and bathing suits."

"Thanks."

"Watch those cocksmen out there, honey. I've worked some of them before. If they can get a finger into your cunt, you'll be in bed before you know it."

Melissa frowned. "If they do what?"

The blonde moved toward the door. "Never mind, honey. Just don't believe everything they tell you."

"Thanks. I'll be careful."

The blonde scrutinized herself in the mirror, then turned abruptly and left the room, leaving Melissa to decide which items she wanted to wear of the garments that had been put out for her.

She chose a halter top and a very short skirt. To make the top fit tighter, she drew the center in by pleating and pinning the band, then shortened the straps which went over the shoulders, to pull the bodice up, tightening up around her tits and clinging to every curve. The pressure made her tits look firm and round. She shortened the skirt by turning down the waist on the inside and pulling it up to fit.

She was thinking of Martin as she entered the banquet room to have her first look at the guests. She was still feeling a bit guilty for her treatment of him. He had been rather reserved Saturday and Sunday, saying very little and spending most of his time in the garage working on his boat. He had purchased it last year when he received his bonus and was in the process of remodeling it. That, also, was a very expensive project and she suspected that the cost of it might have been one reason for his taking up gambling. He had wanted to acquire the money he needed but, instead, had spent more.

Other girls were moving among the guests, pausing to talk, conversing gaily, passing banter and answering questions. The words of the blonde flashed through her mind: "Watch out for the studs; if they get one finger into your cunt, you'll find yourself in bed before you know it." She could feel them appraising her, viewing her body as if already deciding to fuck her.

She intended to give them all a very firm NO.

"Well, well. What have we here?"

It was a man's voice. Strong, firm. She liked the sound of it. Then she found herself looking into a pair of brilliant blue eyes. The face below the eyes was creased in a pleased smile, and the instant she turned to face him, his gaze centered on her pussy. It clung there for a moment, then he said, "That's a very appealing outfit."

"I'm Melissa Stanton."

His eyes shifted to her face. "Yes, I know."

She didn't know him, couldn't remember ever having seen him before.

"I'm afraid you have me," she said, a bit puzzled.

"No, but I want you," he retorted and his smile turned to a broad grin that displayed nice even white teeth.

He was eyeing her skirt again and his face beamed with pleasure.

"How about a drink?" he asked.

A drink would be nice, she thought. She gazed hopefully toward the bar. She shook her head in the negative.

"Sorry. I don't think I should. I'm supposed to mingle with the customers."

"I'm a customer. We can mingle at the bar." He grasped her arm and propelled her toward the bar.

Then they were standing near the crowded bar. She had a martini and he was drinking bourbon and water. The first order disappeared in long, quick sips while conversation got underway.

"I'm Roger Queen," he told her as an introduction. "This standing up for a drink is for the birds."

She agreed that it was.

"How about going over to my room and have something good brought in?"

"Me? Go to your room?"

Perhaps she should think about it. She was certain she was being propositioned, but he was so charming and it would be a nice way of getting away from the crowd. Already, many of the men looked drunk.

"I'm sure I shouldn't," she began. "My boss would be displeased if I don't.."

"Never mind your boss," Roger said, cutting her off. "I'll take care of Mr. Anderson."

"But I'm supposed to…"

"I know what you're supposed to do," he said, interrupting again. "I'll take care of that too."

He led her out, across the banquet room, through a side entrance and along a walk that led past a row of motel units that fronted a swimming pool.

She went along, completely aware that he was a stranger to her; but she trusted him. He seemed so nice.

His room was large. There was a color television set and a large bed. He mixed drinks and they sat and talked and watched a group of men showing off for a young woman in a string bikini.

It was interesting and enjoyable until suddenly Melissa discovered they were talking about sex and he was telling her that he felt it was the most beautiful and most pleasurable functions of the human body.

"Don't you think so?" he asked.

She thought his eyes were almost pleading so she said yes, then realized she had said the wrong thing. She had practically agreed that she loved fucking. Fucking with just anybody.

"I think you and I could make it even more beautiful," he said. His eyes were boring into the division of her halter, seeking the curves of her tits.

"Your tits look beautiful."

Then his gaze shifted back to the skirt and the amount of thigh that was exposed. The hem was almost back to her crotch and she was certain that he could see her bikini panties."I couldn't do that," she said in a forced voice. "Why not? Don't you like me?"

"I think you're nice." "But not nice enough to fuck."

"I didn't say that," she said quickly.

He looked rejected and she was sure she had hurt his feelings.

"I didn't mean that," she said again. "It's just that I have to sell

His eyes brightened and he looked happy again. "Whatever you have to sell, I'll buy." "Dresses." "Hundreds of them."Now you're laughing at me." "Not at all. I'll give Maginis an order tonight." He took her glass, set it on the refrigerator. "Now suppose we get down to something really interesting."

She could see he meant what he was saying. He would buy a large order. All she had to do was to permit him to fuck her. And why not? He was such a handsome and charming person.

She said, "Whatever you say."

He grasped her hands and pulled her up from the chair, embraced her and kissed her on the lips. Then he pushed the straps of the halter from her shoulders. Her tits burst forth, released from the restraining fabric, looking amber and gold. He touched them almost timidly, then he began to fondle them.

"Your tits are even more beautiful than I imagined," he whispered. He bent and kissed them, then licked at the soft nubs of her nipples.

She loosened the waist of the skirt, pushed it down her body and stepped out of it. Then she released the zippers on the boots and cast them off. She stood before him, naked and lovely.

She sat down on the bed. "You undress, too," she said. "I want to watch."

He put his things in a neat pile on a chair.

Melissa was awed by her own feelings. She wanted to see this man naked; to view every part of him, to look at his prick and see what it was like before he stuck it into her cunt. She wanted to please this man, to be used by him and that surprised her.

The hair on his chest made him look so masculine, so animal-like, she wanted to be swept up by him and crushed to his body.

She liked the cock she was viewing. It would be heaven to be fucked by such a man and she wished that he would hurry and get on with it.

She settled back on the bed, lay quietly, waiting for him.

"Stick your cock into me before I change my mind." She heard the words, and. it sounded as if she was pleading.