Unknown - Wanting Everyone

"No trouble at all," he answered, rising and wiping his hands on a soiled rag.

"I was going stir-crazy with Susan and Jace gone. I think you can start it now."

Melinda handed him the flashlight and slipped behind the wheel. She turned the key in the ignition. The engine turned over a couple times, then caught.

"Keep your foot on the gas," Phil warned as he closed the hood. "If you don't, it's liable to flood again."

"If it does, what do I do?" she asked.

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "I'll be right behind you. I'm going to follow you to your home just to make sure you get there."

"You don't have to do that," she protested, feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

"Yes, I do," he insisted. "This carburetor is in bad shape."

She nodded, realizing he wouldn't be put off. Phil climbed into his car and waved her on.

Without incident, Melinda pulled into her apartment complex parking lot at midnight. Phil wheeled in behind her. Climbing from her car, she walked to his.

"I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Howard," she said. "I really felt helpless."

"You can start by calling me Phil," he said. "After all, we're sort of relatives now."

She smiled. "Can I offer you a drink or a midnight snack or something?"

"I thought you'd never ask." He grinned, then wheeled his car beside hers. He joined her, following her to her apartment.

Leaving Phil on the living room sofa, Melinda dropped her purse and coat off in the bedroom then went to the kitchen.

Within a couple of minutes, she joined him on the couch with a plate of sandwiches and two beers.

He was an easy man to talk to. Just back from a two-year stint in South America with the Peace Corps, he was about to begin work on his master's degree at the local college.

"I'm staying with Susan and Jace until I can get settled in an apartment and find some kind of part-time work," he explained.

"I've been there a week now. How come I've never seen you before?"

"Jace and I aren't as close as we once were," she answered as they finished off the snack. "Care for another beer?"

He nodded. She admitted she felt tired after the long day at work, but she was enjoying Phil's company, something she hadn't felt with a man since Robert. And it was a damn sight better than being alone. She popped two more beers and returned to the living room. Phil was on the floor, thumbing through her record collection. She joined him. After selecting two albums, new groups he hadn't heard while in South America, he turned to her, his mouth opening, but not speaking.

She watched him, feeling his hesitance, uncertainty. She smiled, trying to make him feel more comfortable. He smiled back, a bit embarrassed. Her smile grew.

He really was quite handsome.

"I was about to kiss you," he finally said.

"Why didn't you?" she asked.

"I felt awkward," he admitted. "Out of practice. I haven't been alone with a girl for two years."

"You are now," she answered, realizing she would like this man to kiss her and perhaps even more.

"I know," he said leaning to her.

Their lips met, lightly brushing against one another. She trembled, suddenly aware of how attracted she was to this man, this total stranger. He eased back, his eyes studying hers.

"Is that what you call a kiss?" she said coyly.

"Just remembering the feel of it," he answered, his arm slipping around her waist.

She came to him when his arm tightened. His mouth covered hers, his tongue flicking out and dueling with hers. She moaned softly, feeling those deep sensations of want stirring within her.

His tongue played over the roof of her mouth and under her tongue.

Slowly they sank back, lying on the floor. She pressed to him, rubbing her tits against his chest. Her pelvis arched up a bit in a suggestive manner. His arms tightened around her, holding her close.

"You're a very beautiful woman, Melinda Tuning," he said softly when they parted. "Perhaps the most beautiful I've ever seen."

"And you, Philip Howard, have been lost in the South American jungles for too long," she said, gazing up into his green eyes, feeling a warm hunger for this man, her sister-in-law's brother.

"Not that long." He kissed her again.

She made no protest when his hand covered one of the blouse- veiled forms of her tits and squeezed. Instead she thrust her chest into his palm, showing her approval, then moaned out her willingness to have his hands on her body. It felt so good. The wants and desire she had held in check for so long swirled out.

Juices flowed within her quim, preparing that heated channel for what she knew would eventually come.

Abruptly, Phil's hand left her breast. His mouth slipped from hers. He stood.

She blinked up at him, confused and surprised.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Before she could answer, he turned and walked out the door, leaving her alone.

Melinda stood in the shower, letting the warm torrent of water ease the frustration within her young body, still uncertain exactly what had driven Phil from her apartment. One moment the man's passion seemed to be flaring as high as hers. In the next instant, he left her high and dry.

Her sudsy hands crept down to the aching mound of her sex.

Deep within tingled the unfulfilled want for a man. She tried to ignore it, but her thoughts returned to Phil and her own frustration.

I damn well made it clear to him, she thought. He couldn't have misread my signals.

Thinking about what might have been did no good. It only increased her yearning for the young, red-headed man. Rinsing herself, she turned off the water and pulled back the shower curtain. Grabbing a fluffy white towel from a rack, she stepped from the shower and vigorously rubbed the clinging droplets from her body.

First Robert, then Jace, followed by a small string of now faceless one-night stands, she pondered, and now Mr. Phil Howard.

Men, they're enough to give a girl an inferiority complex.

Carefully hanging her towel to dry, Melinda walked into her bedroom. She froze in mid-stride. Phil sat on the edge of her bed.

He was totally naked.

"What… how did you get in here?" Unaware of her own nakedness, Melinda's surprised gaze fell to the angry lance of cock jutting from the man's crotch.

"The door was unlocked," he said. "I just walked in. I thought about climbing in the shower with you, but decided this was nicer."

She suddenly became aware of her bare body. Phil's ravishing eyes hungrily moved over her nakedness. Like a young child, she suddenly had the urge to cover herself, feeling more than slightly embarrassed by the intimate invasion of her privacy.

"You seem terribly sure of yourself, Mr. Howard," she said.

"We're not back to that, are we? I thought I had talked you into calling me Phil?" His gaze halted on the firm, uplifted forms of her breasts. A definite mouth-watering sight, he decided. "And I'm not at all sure of myself. That's exactly why I left so quickly."

"What?"

"Two years without a woman, even one paid for," he said. "I don't think any man would be sure of himself. When we were on the floor, I was getting all the right signals, I wanted you. But nothing was happening. I panicked… the old male ego was in danger of being deflated."

Nothing looked deflated now, she thought. His cock stood stiffly at attention.

Fat and long, it throbbed and twitched in needy little movements. Clear drops of preseminal fluids oozed from the pinprick slit of its mouth.

His eyes followed hers. He glanced down at the rigid rod shafting up from his groin. A smile moved over his lips.

"I got out in the car and couldn't stop thinking about you," he said. "Things finally started happening. I rose to the occasion, so to speak. However the occasion had passed."