Melanies Weg zur devoten Sklavenhure
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Journey Into Melanie’s Reality Ch. 06 free porn video
Author’s note: This is the sixth and final part of the story. Just a wee reminder, as it’s so long since I posted the first three chapters: the children are Melanie’s, and Phil is her mother.
Thanks as ever to my muse and inspiration, without whom this couldn’t have been written. To raconteuse, for the most painstakingly professional editing. And to all my readers, whose posts and emails encourage me to strive to be a better writer.
*****
Sandy had set his clock early. When Phil entered the kitchen about seven in the morning, he was already there, the kettle was boiling and the makings of breakfast were set out neatly ready for cooking. The older woman coughed, smiled:
– Well, you beat me to it, for once.
He turned grinning, as he filled the teapot:
– Good morning Phil. I hope you slept well after your late night? Tea’ll be ready in a couple of minutes. And since I’m not allowed to help you prepare breakfast, I forbid you to lift a finger to help me.
Not even her daughter addressed her like that. Phil was momentarily discomfited, but knew this man was only trying to be chivalrous, so she swallowed it:
– Melanie’s poetry certainly made an impression on the reviewer. I must have read the article six times before I could sleep last night. She gave me a copy when the volume was published of course, but I have to admit I barely dipped into it. I need to read it with care now. Thank you for taking her to the reception…
– Sandy!
The squeal of youthful excitement could only have been Frances. Her arms went round him:
– I’m so glad you’re back! We’ve lots to show you. Um, how was Sydney? Bet you wore mummy out. Is she still asleep?
The girl turned, hugged Phil:
– Good morning Gran… love you.
The woman’s hand ruffled the girl’s tousled hair:
– G’morning to you, kitten. Now, let me show you how Sandy helped mummy in Sydney…
She detached herself from her granddaughter, led her into the living area, thrust the Australian Literary Review, open at page three, in her hands. Frances gazed in awe at the quarter-page art portrait of her mother above the writing.
– Mummy’s in the paper! Wow, must show Maria and William…
The girl disappeared at a run, clutching the article. Sandy emerged from the kitchen bearing a tray with teapot, milkjug, sugar and mugs:
– Phil, would you be so kind as to take everyone their tea please? I’m just about to start cooking, so I want folks at the table in twenty minutes.
Phil didn’t allow the children to plague their mother over the meal:
– The sooner you eat, the sooner you’ll hear all about Sydney…
A cacophony of excited questions erupted as soon as the last fork was laid down. Melanie’s heart was in her face as she turned sideways, kissed Sandy’s cheek:
– Well, I think it’s my job to tell you our adventures in the city. But remember, they only happened because this man here has written a remarkable novel.
She gave her littlies an edited account of their time in Sydney. Maria’s eyes were feasting on the portrait of her mother in the paper till she caught the word television:
– MUM! You were on T.V.! You should’ve told us…
– No darling, Sandy was the star, not me. But — stroking his hand on the table — I think they gave you a CD, dear?
– Um yes, but it’s only boring old me…
Maria’s eyes drilled him:
– Sandy, you’re the least boring person I’ve met. Well, for an old man… Where’s the CD?
The children disappeared into the garden once the show was over, Frances and Maria dragging Sandy by his hands. As they arrived at the rough shrubbery beside the drive, William explained:
– We found a blue-tongued lizard yesterday. She’s a female. Look Sandy…
And the lad lifted a bit of old plywood behind the bushes, revealing a very large lizard. Sandy was genuinely delighted, but put on a bit of a show for the children:
– Wow! Isn’t she a beauty! Oh Frances, don’t…
But the girl had already draped the long fat reptile round her neck:
– Go on, stroke him Sandy!
He hesitated, but William pronounced:
– It’s okay man, they like being petted.
Ah, the certainly of early adolescence, Sandy thought. He stroked the beast hesitantly:
– Maybe they do. But I’m sure she’d prefer to be back under her bit of wood. Thank you for showing me. Now, what else is there to see?
The lizard was forgotten as a trail of squeals led Sandy round the back of the house.
– These — it was Maria, pointing to a tangle of bikes — they need fixing, and mummy never has the time. Can you sort them out? If you can, we’d love to take you cycling. Mummy has two bikes…
– I know my way around a bike, lass. I’m sure I can fix them. But I smell coffee. Am I allowed to have one before I become an engineer?
Three hours later, Melanie, Sandy, and the children rode back to the house. Sandy had of course, forgotten to apply suncream, and the back of his neck, brow, and the tops of his forearms and thighs glowed red through sweat. He collapsed on the sofa, but Melanie busied herself in the kitchen preparing lunch, showing not a trace of exertion or discomfort.
*****
As they finished eating, Phil announced:
– I’m on dinner-duty tonight. Who wants to help me with the shopping?
She drove off ten minutes later, with the children. When they were out of sight, Sandy took Melanie in his arms:
– Well darling, isn’t Phil sweet? Looks like we have a couple of hours to ourselves… any thoughts?
She glanced coyly at him, eyelashes fluttering. Acting it, he knew.
– Um, perhaps… I’d like to complete what we started last time darling, when Mum took my littlies to the library. Remember?
God did he remember: his woman bent over, his cock deep in her from behind… and the crunch of tyres on gravel ending it:
– Yes sweetness…
– I need to change then.
She slid past him to her room, still in her cycling lycras. Returned a different woman: tight t-shirt showing braless tits, short summer skirt, black thighhighs. When he lifted the skirt to inspect her, a red lace band showed at the tops of the stockings. And her cunt was naked, glistening. He gasped, suddenly erect. Pulled her to him possessively, hand between her legs:
– Fuck, darling, you know exactly how to get to me, don’t you?
– I know you sometimes need me like this… and sometimes I need to be your dirtygirl. Come on…
She led him outside, to the exact spot where their coitus had been interrupted a few days previously. She knelt before him subserviently, removed his shorts and briefs. Sniffed:
– Oh, you really are my darling dirtyman, you stink of sexsweat…
And her mouth enveloped him, lascivious, needy. He gasped:
– No sweetness, I’ll spurt in your mouth, and what will you get from that?
She raised her head:
– You really still don’t understand that I love pleasuring you like this, do you?
His head shook.
– You get pleasure from tasting my sex, don’t you, silly man?
– You know I do darling…
– Well, for fuck’s sake accept that sucking you gets me off too. Please?
And he was lost in her pulsing throat again, her muscles drawing him in. He nearly gave in to her. But this wasn’t what he wanted now. Grabbed her hair, drew her upright:
– Dirtygirl, he needs cunt…
He turned her, thrust her against the wall, pulled her back by the waist so she was bent in half. He was a furnace of lust as his eyes swept over her submission: her muscular arse, the pouting sex beneath it, the provocation of the sluttish thighhighs:
– This, darling, is what I have to do first.
He knelt, savouring the mix of sweat and sexscent. Lapped at her cunt and arse, inhaling her need as she sq
uirmed. Revered her sexuality with mouth and fingers till she was panting, and intensified his ministrations. She wailed as her squirt soaked the earth below her. Still spasming as she felt his penetration:
– Oh darling mine, yes, take me…
He grunted, inarticulate feral need. Words were as nothing. Intensity of matedness, earthy beauty of the inevitable. Animal lust, but so much more than that… the rising, then soaring. She’d clenched him in orgasm three times, ululating her triumph, heedless of neighbours. At last the sap rose in him, and she sensed it, so closely attuned were they. She groaned:
– Arse, darling, spunk this arse you own…
No, he wasn’t going to do that. Knew she was near mid-cycle, and something undeniable in him had to seed her. Sometime this woman would bear his children. He could hardly find words:
– No darling. Has to be here, in your child-bearing cunt… oh jesusfuck… now…
He shuddered his sperm deep in her, touching as they’d never touched, and his growl of victory was drowned by her unearthly wailing. Gasping, he fell on her back, their sweat mingling…
– Melanie! Are you okay?
She convulsed in laughter, expelling him, called back to her neighbour on the other side of the high impenetrable hedge,
– I’m fine Sheila, Sandy’s trying to test how tickly I am — she exploded in giggles — and he finally found the right spot. Sorry if I alarmed you…
– Oh, the Scots guy you told me about? You must bring him over for a drink.
– Yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks for the offer.
Sandy was finally recovering, shouted to the unseen woman:
– And thanks from me too. I look forward to meeting you.
– I’ll phone you both and fix something, okay?
Melanie was on her knees again, about to take Sandy in her mouth:
– Look forward to that Sheila, thanks…
Before engulfing his withering cock, she whispered:
– We must go to your room sweetness. To find your blue pills. You know how I am mid-cycle…
He was semi-erect after a couple of minutes:
– Aye love, blue pill time.
She lay on his bed, naked save the thighhighs. She’d fetched her toybag on the way, knew he’d be a while before he was ready for more. As her naked man swallowed the pill, she drew the largest vibe from her collection:
– Draw the chair over darling, so you can watch and smell…
Oh jesus… he’d watched her masturbate before, but never with that monster:
– Jesus sweetness… will that thing fit in you?
She smiled, sweet innocence, moaned as the device parted her swollen labia:
– I’ve had bigger things in me than this love…
His mind flashed back to what she’d told him of some of her sexual exploits when she was younger, before she’d met her deceased husband George. He believed her. Watched fascinated as she pressed the toy home, his gaze alternating between her sex and her face:
– Tell me darling. Tell me the biggest thing that’s been in your cunt?
The toy was fully lodged in her now. Her fingers twisted the base, and it began humming. Her eyes rolled, her mouth contorted. She managed to gasp:
– Later, darling… ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… jesusfuck… but — she was pounding the thing into herself now, writhing — nobody’s ever completed me as you do…
Her back arched, arse right off the bed. Her plaintive whinny filled his head as she shuddered, face in rictus… The toy slid out of her and she finally sighed back on the bed, wreathed in the beatific look he adored. He rose from the chair, lay beside her, stroking her face, kissing her eyes. Truly the love of his life:
– Thank you for sharing that my sweet. You were utterly — he struggled to find an appropriate word, failed — awesome.
She smiled:
– Hmm, that’s a bit of an Americanism for my Scotsman?
– It was meant correctly. Maybe awe-inspiring would have been better?
She giggled, struggled to her elbows to regard him carefully:
– Um, and is this what awe inspires in you darling?
He followed her eyes. His cock was huge and red, throbbing:
– Only awe for you…
– Uhuh, that’ll be right. Bet you were at least as hard for Karen the other night?
– Sweetness, I…
– Silly, when in a hole, stop digging. Now — lowering her mouth — what am I to do with this?
Her eyes questioned as her lips tightened round him. He decided: this was her scene, not his:
– What d’you want to do, my lioness?
Her head rose from him. He couldn’t quite identify the look in her eyes. Lust certainly, but there was more. Then he understood:
– I only want to serve my mistress, darling. Whatever your pleasure…
– Go and lie in the shower, sextoy. Don’t turn it on. Yet.
He obeyed, shivering with excitement. When she was in this mode she was completely unpredictable. Jesus, the wonder of submitting to her. He’d never played sub to anyone else. His cock almost hurt, the pulsing was so fierce.
She stood over him. He’d expected to see her strapon, but no, still naked other than the salacious thighhighs:
– Your wish is my command, mistress.
She crouched over him, scanning his face as her knees bent. Her hands reached to pull her bum apart. Her greasy arse touched his cockhead, and her hand went to guide it. She lowered herself, impaling herself on his sex:
– Need… this… sextoy… Now, fuck me. Drill my arse.
Christ, the command in her voice… as if she had to tell him. His hips rose, thrusting hard, till there was nothing left of him to enter her.
– Call that fucking? You can do better than that…
He hadn’t expected the slap on his face, she’d never done that before. It worked. His hips rose into her, a hard staccato pattern, her slippery arse drawing him in, seeking to coax the inevitability from him. Then she groaned, and wetness poured on his belly. Not ejaculate. Piss. She rose to standing, leaving his cock shivering in solitude, and shuffled up so her urine was splashing his face:
– Open mantoy. Drink.
He opened his mouth and she crouched again to better control the direction. He spluttered to take it in, swallow. Then as the last dribbles issued from her, she lowered her gaping cunt on his face:
– Clean me fucktoy.
She’d dommed him before, but he’d never heard that tone of voice. He moved his head a fraction from her seeping sexflesh:
– After you’re clean, mistress… what’s your pleasure then?
– After that you’re going to fuck my arse for YOU. Just let go. Pretend I’m Karen. That’s what I want next.
Jesus, her beautiful unpredictability. His cock leaked as he mouthwashed her, till she rose:
– Bed now darling. Take your girl on the bed. Um, cuff me to it, wrists at least…
He levered himself from the shower floor. Stood. Slapped her cunt hard.
– Move darling. Glad it’s my turn. On your back, I need to see your face.
His hands were trembling so much, it was hard to lock the cuffs. Christ, she was beautiful like this, open to his ravages, eyes shimmering with lust. They widened as he lifted the crop, trailed it round her nipples. Watched as the teats grew, grapes of want. He tapped them smartly with the dangly leather loop, watched her face:
– I adore you darling. Legs up now. Need to take your arse.
She was silent. He bent her legs over her, secured her ankles to the bedhead so her cunt and arse gaped for him, so vulnerable, so beautiful. He manoeuvred her till her body rested on her shoulders, trunk and neck unnaturally twisted. Didn’t matter, this fuck wouldn’t take long. He crouched over her, grasping her ankles for support. Her anus stretched invitingly. His rod accepted the invitation. Her eyes hooded as he eased into the tight greasiness:
– Jesus sweetness… this position… feels like your cock is pressing my gspot thr
ough the membrane… ohfuck, so beautiful…
He shifted the angle of entry slightly:
– Should have fucked Karen like this the other night…
– Ohhhhhhhhhh… no darling, not like this, this is only for me, promise?
– Not… Promising… Anything, my love… going to explode soon…
He took the electric toothbrush from her toybag, turned it on, applied it to her clit as he plundered her. Watched her face writhe into pre-orgasmic grimace, eyeballs disappearing upwards. Her sphincter tightened on him and he spunked as her ejaculation soaked them. The drenched toothbrush fizzled to a halt. He tenderly unfastened her ankles, laid her back on the mattress, his penis slipping from her with the movement.
*****
That evening, after an afternoon visiting the stunning new Federal Parliament building, Melanie whispered to him:
– Mum’s leaving the day after tomorrow. There’s something I need to show you, on our own, before she goes. It means you must be up and ready by maybe five-thirty in the morning. D’you think you’ll manage that sweetness?
– Sounds interesting… course I’ll be up numpty! So what’re you going to show me? And why does it have to be without the bairns?
She pressed a finger to her lips, kissed him goodnight:
– I promise you’ll like it.
Of course she was up first, as morning light began to show faintly through his window. He scrambled into his clothes. She was filling vacuum cups for the car as he entered the kitchen:
– Good morning love. No time for brekkie here, we’ll eat it as we drive.
He took his woman in his arms, smelled sleep-fragrance under her loose summer dress:
– Good morning my sweet. Am I allowed to know yet what adventure we’re embarking on?
She tilted her head sideways, the coy smile he loved emerging:
– Umm… s’pose so. Know what a platypus is?
– Aye, one of your odd marsupials, isn’t it?
– Nope, dill. It’s actually a mammal, but an egg-laying one. And the male is venomous, but you’ll never get near enough one to find out the hard way. There’s a nature reserve a few kilometres away where you can usually see them at dawn. So let’s move, the sun’ll rise soon.
He was glad of the coffee and oatmeal slabs in the car. She explained:
– About the only good thing my editor’s done for me was to tell me about this place darling.
– Hey numpty, she gave you a job, didn’t she?
– Um, well, that too I s’pose… look, we’re here.
Well into the reserve, there was a bench beside the path, looking down over the breadth of the river where it widened into a wee lake. She whispered:
– Sit quietly and don’t move darling. Just watch the water, close to the banks.
As the sun rose, its light caught ripples on the water. Sandy gasped, a subdued whisper:
– There darling, is that one? Oh, another…
He raised the binocs to his eyes, then passed them to her as he fiddled with the zoom. Four now, three near their bank, one at the other side. Only vees in the water showed where they were, but he snapped away relentlessly. Within ten minutes all had disappeared. Melanie turned to him, a triumphant look in her eyes:
– That was very lucky. They don’t always show. Shall we walk on a bit?
It was only when she stood, dawn glowing through the thin cotton of her dress, that he realised it was all she was wearing. His hand reached to lift the garment, glide up her thighs, touch the wetness:
– Yes darling. Show me the way…
Eventually the track petered out in a bog, but not before, binocs to her eyes, she’d identified several species of wildfowl and other birds for him, and they’d paused entranced to watch a large group of kangaroos dance purposefully across the field on the other bank. Her look was unmistakeable as she gazed into his eyes:
– Fraid this is the end of the path love. But we passed a good spot to sit, a few metres back. Want to rest?
– Not to rest, exactly, no…
– Oooh, wonder what that means?
His hand cupped her groin:
– You know exactly what it means darling. There’s nobody around. We need to fuck.
– Hah, you mean YOU need to fuck, horny man…
A finger slid into her wetness:
– Correction. WE need, sweetness.
It looked like a fishing station: a wee concrete jetty, dried remains of fish at the edges. He kicked them aside, drew the goretex from his rucsac, spread it out. Started removing his clothes. She watched his rigidity emerge, glanced up the path, hesitantly drew the dress over her head:
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