I leaped to my feet, raising my pants at the same time. My dark chocolate tool glistened with Melliās drool. It swayed while it hung from my open fly as stepped to the window. It still was bloated and elongated, though most of the blood had returned to my bighead. As my shiny member waved goodbye to my neighbor across the alley, I lowered the blinds.
I didnāt realize that Melli and I had an audience during that terrific blow job, and that she was being watched even while she diddled herself. The thought, though, kind of turned me on, so I didnāt mind.
Melli and I heard keys jangling outside the door of my one-room office. My co-worker initially fumbled with the lock. In those anxious moments before he entered, my tools were put away and Melli had rearranged her clothing. She was wiping her face with a tissue as the door opened.
Melliās face was flushed, and her breathing was deep and even. With her prodigious chest swelling and falling on each breath and a tuft of her golden locks strewn across the side of her face covering one eye, Melli could hardly look more appealing to me. She may well have been oozing sex, literally, because Iām sure that she was interrupted before she could get herself off.
I tried to act normally when my co-worker, Marty, walked in. I felt like he and the rest of the world knew that Melli had just given me head that would make Vanessa DelRio proud.
āNow that Iāve filed that story,ā I announced by way of disguising our predicament, lest my co-worker confirmed what the expression on his face suggested that he suspected, āIāll treat you to lunch, Melli. We can talk about the story I just wrote, and your future career in journalism. You know, stuff like that. I donāt have any more scheduled assignments today, so Iām all yours.ā
Melli and I stood up in tandem. Marty peered at us quizzically, panning from one to the other.
āMarty, this is Melli, star of the universityās weekly newspaper. Iām showing her the ropes today,ā I said, making a show of introducing her by sliding my upturned palm in her direction.
āMelli, Marty Stafko,ā I added. My hand gently nudged Melli on her back she and Marty shook hands.
Marty didnāt notice that I was rushing her. His eyes made a pass over the ashy looking splotch on the leg of my pants. I hoped that he didnāt notice the way one of Melliās hair strands was stuck together. I wondered how that stuff got way back there on the hair between her shoulders.
We were out the door quickly, giggling like high school sophomores as we floated down the hall.
I decided to take Melli to a restaurant that I didnāt usually frequent. I wasnāt in my right mind at that moment, the effects of having been the subject of the most adroit and efficient cocksucker Iād ever met. We could go to a different eatery, and Iād be less likely to be seen by familiar faces. Thereād be less chance to slip up and blow my cover by blurting out a bad lie. Especially since Melli and I actually were together for a legitimate reason.
I saw Corey, my friend from across the alley, approaching us as soon as we exited my building. He was gliding toward me with a knowing smirk on his face. I lifted my hand behind Melliās back, gave Corey the ādown-lowā sign by wagging my hand like a duckbill above Melliās head and out of her line of vision. I dropped my hand to her shoulder and gave her a friendly squeeze and maneuvered us past Corey. Iād try to explain it all to him some other time.
The restaurant I chose, one of the two on the first floor of this Downtown hotel, was more practical for us than the alternative, five-star bistro. I didnāt want to seem pretentious and decided that the less expensive place would be appropriate. Besides, I had just met this woman. How should I know at this point whether she really wanted to be a journalist? For all I knew, she was a closet sexologst or something, and a sloppy one at that, considering the Lewinsky-like stain on my good pants.
I thought about Sondra, my wife, and whether she would notice that blemish on my clothing. Sondra had never allowed so much as a drop of cum on anything except a bed towel or in her womb. When I say that sex is performed anally at our house, Iām not talking about butt fucking. Sondra and I hadnāt been intimate for weeks, and I really didnāt miss it. Itās almost shameful to admit, but sex with my own hand really did rival her skills in bed. Thatās all anyone needs to know about my sex life over the last quarter century.
Still, I didnāt want to take a chance or flaunt evidence of my indiscretion in Sondraās face. The marriage was OK in other respects. Sondra has been a fine mother and a tidy housekeeper.
After Melli and I ordered our salads and soft drinks, we both excused ourselves to the appropriate restrooms.
My pants were black, so it wasnāt difficult to clean up the cum stain with some water and a hand towel. I took a pee, careful to milk the remnants of my ejaculate into the urinal as well.
At the washbasin, I was flung back to reality by my reflection in the mirror. My low cut, conservative afro was nearly as gray as it was black, with a matching goatee. I was still a handsome, fit man for my age.
I should have known better than to succumb to that little sexpot, no matter how many ways I rationalized it. If only Melli hadnāt been so damn tempestuous. She pushed all of my sex buttons and gave me a hard-on without touching, which had become a rare event for me.
Just then, as I pondered that last thought, a ticklish itch in my loins signaled the beginning of my second autonomous erection that day, triggered by my reminiscing.
On the way back to our booth, I prayed for strength to resist the temptation. I saw Melli sitting there, sipping water and leaning forward so that her breasts were perched on the tabletop. I wanted to fuck her more than I wanted to breathe. The events in my office came rushing back to me, that hot mouth nursing me half way down her throat.
My dick was on full alert, and I didnāt care if anyone saw it. Now I was praying that my first prayer wouldnāt be answered.
I sat opposite Melli and grabbed a big swig of water before I spoke.
āYou know what, Melli? I should apologize,ā I said. Melliās eyes met mine attentively, so I pressed on.
āYou came up here to get some pointers about the newspaper business, and I jumped you like a horny rabbit. I want you to know itāll never hap ā¦,ā I didnāt finish the thought, so startled was I by her bare foot stroking my woody under the table. With a mischievous glint in her smiling eyes, she toyed with my member and let me know what she really wanted.
āOh damn,ā I said excitedly. Her smallish foot was like a third hand, slowly stroking me, arousing me even more.
āLetās get a room,ā Melli groaned.
āIn this place?ā I said, grabbing her foot without removing it from my lap. Her toes continued to flutter and caused me to throb from my balls to the crown of my dick.