Sweet Melody…er…Christine

Half the guys in town, - watched enviously by their kid brothers - chased after sweet Melody Cousins with a hand on their zip.

She was cooler than cool with two rounded beauties, tight as drums, and that was only her ass. On the flipside they were the kind that make a guy walk into a street pole because he's too busy looking at her incredibly filled 34C bra.

Melody's rich widowed mom was so concerned about the 'dogs' on Melody's tail that she hired a security firm to provide her daughter with an escort – big, heavy combat-trained female escorts guaranteed 100 percent guy-focused sexually which gave mommy peace of mind.

I'd been thinking about putting a finger on – or in – Melody for some time; I decided to wait until she bloomed – probably at the age of twenty-one, which would make me twenty-nine. But that age-gap was okay as my theory was gals like Melody prefer older men who are not wanting it all the time which means their beautiful light-structured bodies don't get knocked around from over-use nor knocked up too often which ages a female significantly.

Working as a self-employed computer technician specializing in installing dependable local networks, I went offshore for three months on a very lucrative contract, installing computer networks with five work stations in a huge fleet of fishing boats. At the end of the contract I took a couple of weeks vacation to sleep in the sun on beaches in Hawaii and swim, swim, swim to get the smell of fish out of my body – I'd been required to work at sea as the fishing boats only came into port once every month to six weeks; the smell of fish seemed to permeate my skin. When the ladies in Honolulu no longer complained about my fish smell, I knew it was time to return home.

Well, when I saw Melody I knew she was ripe – although she still had six months to go to her 21st birthday. "I need sex!" was written all over her – in invisible lipstick I guess – but she would not have been getting much, not with that security gal walking two paces behind her. The dark scowl of the six foot six inch 222 lb woman sweating in Melody's wake was enough to put anyone off sex for life, Melody included.

Pretty Melody stopped in her tracks when she saw the approach of my new rich yellow Porsche. Her grin became a mile wide when she saw me behind the wheel {I was her computer consultant).

"Take me for a ride Phil," she cooed, the sun glinting off her teeth bedazzling me.

"Hop in, straight over the door," I whispered and as soon as her lovely rounded cheeks hit the seat I floored the gas pedal and we were out of there, around the corner before madam goon managed to open her mouth full of yellow teeth and scream.

Two miles down the highway I allowed Melody to have a test drive, hoping the favor would be returned in some way.

"Floor the pedal, but take care not to go faster than you can manage," I said bravely, tightening my seat belt and hanging on to the seat. We left behind twin streaks of smoking rubber – her white-blonde hair flowing in the wind, her chin and breasts pushed forward in ecstasy. I looked for cops but saw none; I tried to read the speed restriction signs but blurs are difficult to read.

"I need to get off – finger me," she yelled. She had to repeat herself because I couldn't believe my ears the first time.

Forgetting about my personally safely I let go of my seat and pushed two of my perspiring fingers in past her yellow thong – fancy that, color coordinated with the car – and the fingers journeyed down a wet passage.

"Another one – there's room," she said, squirming, which meant the gas pedal went down more and we overtook vehicles but fortunately on-coming traffic was virtually non-existent. Perhaps word was out that a yellow Porsche with Melody driving was coming.

"I'm cumming!" she shouted and the rev counter –red-lined as her head flew back causing her foot to stamp on the gas pedal. I steered until she managed to get her lovely sky blue eyes back into focus.

By then my hand was soaked, as was the seat.

"That was my biggest flood ever," she yelled, slowing and we took a left in a great slide but she kept on the road. "I'm pulling over to give you some attention, you lovely man," and at that my half-stiff dick rose boldly and wagged like a happy dog's tail.

Melody took a breather, blowing hot, cold and wet as she worked my dick, confirming my impression she was very ripe for, er, plucking. And that's what we did. We drove into a field and down into a depression where we were out of sight of everyone.

"We need a rug," she said.

"Don't have one – will my shirt do?"

"It will have to; I'm not waiting for you to go back to town to fetch a rug. My flight leaves in two hours."

"Going on vacation?" I asked, ripping off my shirt, sending buttons flying into the air, such was my eagerness to flop between those golden thighs.

"I'll freshen up while I'm waiting," Melody said, dipping her fingers to re-lubricate. She'd not answered my question but who wants to listen to an answer when he's looking at a big, fat and dripping pussy?

She was on her hands and knees and kindly pulled her bra up towards her chin, allowing her boobies to free-fall, giving me something to hold on to as I pounded her into tomorrow.

She was slippery and I went in so easily that for a moment I fancied I must have been preceded by her fist, or perhaps a flower vase. Either that or I'd somehow lost a lot of width.

But as we fell into a lovely rhythm, both groaning and moaning, dribbling saliva and leaking fluids Melody began squeezing me with her vagina, causing my eyeballs to spin and protrude in and out, matching our rhythm.

"Can you please feed me another inch," she asked politely, encouraging me to think that Popeye's spinach fix would come in handy right now.

"Fold your arms above your breasts and push back to raise your ass higher."

"Eek," she squealed. "Don't give me any more – please." Obviously changing the angle had worked wonders.

She squeezed on to me so tightly that I groaned, eyes watering and shot everything I had with the velocity of a new generation Apollo rocket zapping burgers up to the moon to the all-women mission recording their impression of sex in space.

Caught by surprise Melody bellowed like a calving cow and sent a reverse gush as I pulled back for the final pulsating thrust.

I didn't see Melody again until the wedding, as she left later that day to start her career, training as an optometrist. However, I couldn't get her out of my mind, principally because I'd never had experienced such an interactive vagina with the power and flexibility of hers. I'm telling you, for a while when we were peaking I was terrified that her vagina was about to decapitate the end of my dick. So I started calling on her mum, who became very hospitable when she found my interest in her beloved Melody was genuine – a truly warm-hearted woman, I'm telling you.

Well, three months later during a long holiday weekend sweet Melody came home for the wedding. I married sweet Christine, her mother. In Christine's opinion the large age gap between us was great – reasoning that statistically we ought to die about the same time.