In Need of Something More

Melinda's bodily rush had been nearly overwhelming from the moment she pictured Michael in the car. It had overflowed her senses, and completed an orgasm that was started by the inept Paul. Now, as she stared at the scribbled number and the equally scribbled "Michael" beneath it, she felt a new wave spread through her as she reached for the phone.

This rush wasn't strictly arousal. Melinda felt a definite flavor of nervousness as she removed the phone from the base and pressed the 'Talk' button. The sound of the dial-tone made her jump slightly, as it seemed much louder than normal. Realizing that all of her senses were heightened, Melinda reassured herself that it was not the phone trying to warn her about the path on which she was about to embark.

Anne had warned her again about Michael before finally relenting and giving her the number. "Paul wasn't good enough." Melinda had simply said. "His cock was great but the rest of him was inexperienced, unsure." Michael had been the one she wanted, the one that made her seek sex with another man in the first place. "Just one time." Melinda assured her friend. "Just one really wonderful experience, that's all I ask."

Anne had sighed a deep, helpless sigh. But where she had contacted Paul for Melinda, she refused to do so with Michael. "If you want him that badly, you'll have to get him yourself.." She had lied about his living in Chicago deliberately to discourage Melinda from seeking him. Why she had done that, Melinda wasn't sure. Too wild… Wasn't that exactly the experience Melinda was seeking?

The dial-tone was in danger of becoming the annoying beeping that the phone made when off the hook too long. Melinda wasn't having second thoughts, she was merely trying to find the words to explain to Michael what she wanted. Finally, she began pressing the numbers.

The phone rang three times. With each ring, Melinda felt her heart beat in her chest harder. She cleared her throat as she felt herself trembling, and hoped her voice wouldn't break when she spoke to him.

He had such confidence in his voice when he heard who was on the other end. Such assurance. Almost as if he was thinking "I knew you would. I knew you wanted me." Melinda explained her wish, to meet him one and only one time to have sexual intercourse. Just needed something more, she explained, than what she had experienced as woman who had been with only one man. She opted not to tell him about Paul. Michael promised her an exquisite experience, and asked only that she wear the same dress she had on the night they met. Melinda agreed.

Michael suggested they meet in two days, on Friday. He explained he could leave work at noon, and devote the rest of the day to their "experience." Melinda wished it could have been sooner, but realized she had little time before Alan returned home for the day and getting a lunch break from Michael probably wasn't going to cut it. Besides, she had her own work schedule to consider, and Friday would be better for her as well.

The waiting was agonizing, and so was being around Alan. Seeing her husband brought the first true waves of guilt for both what she had done, and what she was about to do. To make matters worse, Alan had been a little extra affectionate since Anne's party, evidently trying to strengthen the bond between them after encountering Michael. He had a look in his eyes, as though he was pleading his case. I'm the man for you. I love you. I am the one who makes you happy.

Work on Thursday was completely unproductive. Melinda daydreamed constantly of Michael and the sensations she hoped he could bring. She found herself getting aroused several times, and fled to the bathroom to ease her tension through the touch of her own fingers. She brought herself to silent orgasm once, but refused to do so again. She wanted her body hungry and desperate for the encounter the next day.

Melinda called in sick Friday just as she had done for Paul. A simple excuse of not being over her "cold" sufficed. She had debated not telling Alan, but she feared he would call the office and discover her ruse. So, just as she had done when she met Paul, she did her best portrayal of an ill wife when she woke up. Her doting husband fetched her medicine, then left her alone in bed when he went off to work himself.

She didn't think he suspected anything. Even his look from yesterday seemed more like her own interpretation that Alan's own thoughts. She had never cheated on him before, and never gave him anything to indicate she would. She was sure her trusted her completely, which, wile advantageous, still caused a strong sense of guilt as she climbed out of bed and walked to the closet.

Her clothes for the day were already decided. Melinda took the black dress from the closet and placed it on the bed. She didn't need to get dressed for a few hours, but her eagerness was forcing her to prepare in some way. She scavenged through the closet, looking for a pair of high heels. Michael had requested only the dress, but she had a few improvements in mind. After locating the shoes, she went to her dresser and began sifting through her collection of panties. Se laughed to herself as she suffered the same difficulty in decision as she had with Paul, and this was simply for underwear. The dress would require a strapless bra, as it exposed most of her shoulders. That helped narrow down the selection, as she always wore a matching bra and panties. Unfortunately, the selection she was left with was inadequate. Melinda sneered at the three possibilities. They simply weren't sexy enough.

After a shower and a bowl of cereal for breakfast, Melinda was in the car heading for a little lingerie stop about forty-five minutes away. She was pleased with herself for thinking of a mission to pass the time -- a mission that fit nicely into her plans to meet Michael. She was going to find the sexiest, raciest bra and panty set she could find.

Melinda was oblivious to the shopkeeper and the other customers as she scanned the racks for something perfect. Every thought was devoted to Michael and his reaction to each of the bra and panty sets she examined. She had no idea of his favorite color, nor texture. She had already decided not to use Alan's tastes however, figuring that a "wild" man like Michael would have different taste. Alan liked lace. He generally picked out elaborate patterns that were semi-transparent. He also preferred a fuller panty, something that covered her pussy and ass completely. His choices were always beautiful, like something a princess would wear. She wanted something more like what a stripper would wear.

Melinda happily discovered a set that thrilled her. The mere mental image of her wearing the skimpy undergarments flushed her with arousal. The panties were a tiny patch of rectangular silver silk. The would covered her cunt, if shaved. But the surrounding skin would be open. Two simple straps connected the small covering to a thin strand of silver in the back. The bra was strapless, and featured two oval cut outs than stretched across the width. Melinda knew the bottom cut would come perilously close to her nipples, but she didn't mind. They would be exposed at some point.

She quickly went to the counter and pulled out the credit card. The man working the counter gave her a smile, as he was evidently picturing her in the new purchase. He was somewhat cute, but no Michael. She checked her watch, and felt comfortable in her remaining time. Still, she ran to her car after leaving the store. It wasn't because she feared she would be late for because of buying the panties, it was that she wanted to try them on.

Melinda eyed herself for a long while after getting home, stripping, and pulling the small underwear onto her body. Her pubic hair was far too visible, but she had anticipated that. With a good chunk of time remaining, Melinda ran a hot bath, slipped into the comforting water, and reached for her razor.

Delicately she removed the hairs around her vagina, pausing every so often to stroke her anticipating clitoris, and fantasize about Michael. She had never shaved for Alan, but figured she could explain to him that she wanted to try something new. If he didn't like it, she would grow it back. She hoped he liked it. She knew he would need him to experiment and open up if they date with Michael was as fulfilling as she hoped. She wanted to stay with Alan, but anything incredible that Michael taught her, Alan would have to learn as well.

The shaving continued, but with Melinda spending more time stroking her cunt than removing the hair. After straining to read her clock in the bathroom mirror's reflected image, Melinda realized she was now running late. She quickly finished the shave, then turned on the shower head to bathe her hair.

She was glad she had planned her outfit already. Time was getting tight. Still, she took a moment to soak in the site of herself in the new panties with her newly-shaven cunt. She loved it. There was a sense of sexuality she hadn't experienced before as she looked at the shapes of her lips pushing against the silvery silk. With no hair surrounding her opening, Melinda gained a new appreciation of her feminine area.

She completed the outfit by slipping into the dress, adorning her neck with a diamond necklace, and stepping into the high heels. The shoes would not be good on a dance floor, but Melinda knew her dance with Michael would not require a dance floor. A squirt of perfume, red lipstick and the perfect amount of make-up completed her image. She knew she looked stunning, and smiled at herself in the mirror. A check of the time revealed she was running fifteen minutes late, so she scampered down to the car as fast as she could in the heels, and was immediately on her way.

Michael had agreed to meet her at a neutral location, but had decided on the location himself. The hotel was far nicer than the motel where she had met Paul. An indoor garden added an exotic flavor to the surroundings, and she imagined the room would equal the splendor of the lobby.

The door to the room was ajar. Melinda knew Michael had already arrived. The crack in the door was mostly dark, but a glowing light was shining through. It was the lights in the room, it was candlelight. Melinda felt herself swoon. She pushed open the door.

"Michael?"

Her eyes tried to focus in the dim light. She room was actually a suite, and she could see a set of French doors across the room. She determined that must lead to the bedroom, as no bed was present in the room she was in. For that matter, Michael was not present, either. She stepped inside, and noticed for the first time some classical music playing from a mini-stereo in the corner. As her eyes adjusted, she saw a bucket of ice with a chilled bottle of red wine. Two glasses were sitting on a cloth next to it, and both looked unused. Evidently Michael didn't feel the need to calm any nerves.

She took two more steps inward, and felt something soft beneath her feet. She looked down, and noticed roe petals strewn in a path leading to the French doors. She wasn't sure if she had ever felt more wanted.

"May I take your coat.?"

Michael had stepped in behind her. She turned to him nervously, but felt her remaining uneasiness melt away as she looked into his eyes. They were intently on her, but not menacing. His handsome face was graced with a reassuring smile. Melinda nodded, and Michael slid the coast from her shoulders.

"You look amazingly beautiful." he whispered. "May I have this dance?"

Michael slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her close.

"I, I don't have the shoes for dancing." Melinda stammered, wishing already had she chosen different footwear.

"You'll be fine." Michael reassured. Indeed, his moves were slow and rhythmic, requiring little footwork. Melinda's face came against his shoulder. She could smell cologne mixed with his natural musk, and the scent flushed her body with arousal.

Michael's body moved perfectly. There was a relaxing sensuality about them, as though they were designed to calm as well as stimulate. Melinda felt her nerves tingle where she brushed against him, and felt her hips moving in concert with his. His hands moved down her side with the slightest of force. Their bodies remained pressed together at the hips, despite the fact the movements were becoming more thrusting in nature. Michael ran his hand over her as his face leaned in close to hers. When it came back up, it grabbed hers, and he moved them together to his mouth. Melinda opened her fingers, and Michael began kissing them.

His lips pressed lightly against them, his eyes focused intently on Melinda's. She was definitely not going to need to make any of the first moves, as she had to do with Paul. Michael knew exactly what he wanted to do, and was doing it.

He kissed the palm of her opened hand. Melinda felt his tongue press against, and lick against the palm. Michael turned her hand, kissing and licking her fingers as he stared at her. Watching his mouth made her own lips twitch, and feeling his warm wet presses shot fire through her senses.

She knew he wasn't going to ask about Alan. Obviously she wanted to be with him or she wouldn't be here. He didn't need to know how she rationalized her decision or in what ways Alan was inadequate. He was going to make love to her without guilt, simply because he desired her. The wedding ring was not a deterrent, not before she made the phone call and certainly not after.

Michael reached for her left hand and began the same treatment, but quickly went to the wedding ring. She laughed to herself about her moments-before thoughts concerning the ring. Michael saw it not as a deterrent, but a turn-on. His tongue licked at the ring, and he even kissed it. His eyes were watching Melinda's carefully a sign of guilt. She bit her lip, which prompted Michael to close his around the ring and slide it off her finger. His face was fully expressive. You don't need this… you're mine now…

Michael placed the ring on the table next to her hanging coat. It would be there for her when she left. Losing the ring made Melinda feel naked, and a stiffness returned to her movements. Michael's hands were moving again. His left moved behind her back. His right, palm pointing downward, ran down her side, down to her leg, and then between her legs. Michael stroked through the dress with a powerful force. The hand on her back kept her from falling backwards. Melinda gasped. Her pussy began to throb from his attention, and a flash hot spread from the source. It climbed her body and poured over her shoulders. Michael leaned his face inward, and brought his lips to Melinda's.

Michael's hands massaged her back while he kissed, but soon moved to the zipper. Here we go… Melinda thought. Michael undid the zipper, but then stepped back.

"Undress."

Melinda found a warmth in his voice, but also a command. She wriggled the dress down her body, looking at his eyes as they saw the silver bra with the oval cuts. They opened wide.

"You bought that for me, didn't you?" he said, his enthusiasm back under control.

"Yes." She smiled at his perception. She slid the dress past her hips, down to her legs. Again Michael's eyes widened. For a moment, she thought he would lose control, leap on her, and fuck her. But he remained motionless.

Melinda dropped the dress to the floor and stood before her lover, dressed only in the new, tiny panties, the bra, and her high heels. Michael's eyes darted over every inch of her. Melinda expected him at attack at any moment, but instead he continued to stare as if drinking the sight of her.

"How does your bra feel?" he asked.

"Fine, I guess."

"No, how does it feel? Feel it…"

Melinda smiled, and moved her right hand to her left breast. She began to caress herself through the fabric, still smiling at Michael.

"Well?" he asked.

Melinda didn't answer right away. The feeling of her hand on her breast was growing intense. Her nipples were hardened, and she caught an occasional glimpse of the left one as her hand more forcefully circled the breast. Instead of answering,, she raised her left hand, now putting her left hand on her left breast and the right hand on the right breast. She knew he really wasn't after an answer.

Michael stood up, and Melinda stopped. He motioned for her to continue, however, and she did as instructed while he walked behind her. She opened her eyes, trying to see him, and he reappeared on her left. He was walking a circle, analyzing ever viewpoint of her as she massaged her body. She knew he had looked at her ass and the tiny fabric covering it. She knew he looked at her exposed hips, her thighs, the small of her back…

He was behind her now, and Melinda felt him lower a piece of fabric over her eyes. It was a blindfold.

"Continue." He said.

Melinda did as instructed. The guessing game of his location added spice to her sensations. Her body was trembling again, but not from nervousness. She moved her right hand over her pussy, and slid her finger into the grove of the lips. She stroked up and down, wondering if Michael was in front of her, enjoying the display, or perhaps behind and not realizing what he was missing. She felt hot breath on her thighs, and knew he was crouched down, inches from her crotch. But a moment later, the hot breath was gone, and the guessing game returned.

Her next sensation of him was that of his hands grasping her necklace. He pulled it over her head, and Melinda wondered why he was taking it from her. It was a gift from Alan, and perhaps he sensed that.

Michael's hands joined hers. She released control, and allowed him to move her hands himself. He guided them over her body in sweeping motions, then lifted them an inch or so from her flesh. He brought her outstretched fingers to her nipples. He bushed her palms over them, making enough contact to fill her body with more lust but not enough to provide any relief from the burning they were experiencing. He moved her hands past her stomach and between her legs.

Michael's hands began to turn her. She felt his crotch pushing against her ass. She felt his hardness, and there was a lot of it! He pushed again, and Melinda stepped forward. Michael guided her to the French doors. She felt his hand reach past her to open them, then the pushing force of his hips on her ass once again.

She stepped inward, and allowed Michael to guide her onto the bed. She fell on her back, certain she would soon feel him atop her. Instead, she felt his hand clutch her wrist, and within a moment he was tying it to the bedpost. She didn't struggle as he tied the second, nor as he spread her legs open and wrapped binds around her ankles.

Her hearing was now her sole useful sense, and she heard Michael go back into the main room, then re-enter a moment later.

Melinda breathed heavy and gasped aloud as she felt his hot breath move over her panties. She was twitching. Her body was on fire. Melinda was squirming feverishly on the bed. She felt Michael's hands on her hips, then the motion of them sliding up her body until the came to her breasts. His palms took each breast fully, but just for a moment. Melinda then felt something cold on her chest. A snipping sound pierced her ears, followed by two more. Melinda then felt her breasts being bared as the bra was lifted from her body. A second cold sensation landed on her chest. Melinda arched her back from the chilling touch. She knew what it was… her necklace. Michael had placed it in the ice along with the bottle of wine.

"Uhh.. Uhh…" Melinda moaned as he dangled the cold metal against her nipples. She wanted desperately to close her hands around them, to return them to warmth. He rested the metal on each nipple for just a few seconds. The sensation was agony, yet she felt her pussy flowing with wetness. Her hips were humping into the air.