Melanie Turns 18byBarbraNovac©
To everyone else, the day dawned as it always had, fresh, summery, intuitively in alignment with its obligations to the season. The field workers singing busied themselves with the day's tasks, joining with the birds in appreciation of the new dawning day. The early morning sunlight lay in a hot yellow streak across Melanie's floor, her cat rolling playfully on its back, legs spread, and the warm ray caressing its belly. The air smelt of freshly clipped grass and the faint hint of ocean breeze as the light winds spread messages of fecundity upon invisible tongues. Melanie could hear the gardeners below discussing the day's tasks and every few words of the stable hands a little further off engaged with the same early morning ritual.
Yet, for Melanie, it was not a normal day. It was a day she'd longed for and a day she knew she'd never see the likes of again. It was her eighteenth birthday - her coming out day. Although officially her coming out would be in four days time at the grand ball her father prepared in her honour, even that event seemed secondary to this day.
This day she becomes a woman.
So many people around her, so many of those who loved her had promised her that great things would occur. Lessons would change today, her tutor promised, and she would leave behind the obligations of history and art, taking up only those subjects that interested her. Her clothing would change, promised the maid, her neckline able to reveal more of the swelling breast her new corsetry would push up and over the top of the bodice. Her physical obligations would change, no longer needing the daily exertions of fitness, rather taking up a daily routine according to her own tastes. For Melanie this meant more horse riding and less swimming, choices her longings prepared her for.
And, as her father had promised her, marriage lay ahead. Melanie couldn't understand how he could be so sure a man would want her, but whenever she enquired over the last several years, her father would glance at her large breasts and tell her there would be no problem marrying her to the best of men. She was to inherit a large fortune and she was blessed with beauty that made all men want her.
Usually after these moments, her father would take her in his lap, and if she was lucky, if his mood held just right, he would allow his hand to rest on her bare knee, riding up her thigh. These moments always made Melanie's heart race and she would cling closer to her father to encourage his hand to rise higher, but he never did. As she got older, she tried tricks she felt changed his response, like spreading her legs, her pressing her large firm bosom into his face, but these little efforts never worked in getting her father to move his hands higher on her naked thigh.
Why he didn't touch her there was a question as unanswerable as why she wanted him to.
Oh, don't get me wrong, dear reader; Melanie knew where babies came from. She was educated by her mother before she died and then by governesses when the questions arose. Nothing was kept from the child, expect for perhaps the most important thing of all. Melanie was told, right from the start, that women had to perform a duty and they hated being touched in any way... "down there." Her body was a thing for her husband to extract pleasure from.
This lesson was reinforced with several incidents that left their mark.
It was only a couple of years ago, that she had a wonderful and strange sensation while riding her horse one day. She asked her governess about it at the time. The woman asked Melanie to explain exactly what she felt, however when Melanie told her of the wetness between her legs (so much it was almost as though she had peed herself) her governess slapped her face hard and said this was something only whores experienced. The woman demanded Melanie put these feelings to the side and get on with learning how to be a lady for that is a skill that is made, not born. Melanie was horrified and stormed directly to her father to explain what the governess had done. The result of this visit was a slap across the face from her father, who told her the governess was right.
And so began the confusion Melanie would suffer from for a long time.
Believe me when I inform you, dear reader, that Melanie's excitement at the start of her eighteenth birthday had a great deal to do with these sensations, for despite her best efforts they did not cease. If such things could be measured in fact, Melanie would swear that beyond her power, they grew stronger, leaving her with the temptation of her own hands to be resisted. She'd been caught in the mornings by the governess who would always take to tying her hands to the bedposts at night to help her with her temptation when Melanie articulated her inner battles. One day the maid came in and saw her tied, and she said "When you are eighteen child, no one can do these terrible things to you anymore," so Melanie took this to mean once she turned eighteen, she would be free to enjoy herself without anyone needing to know.
And now she was eighteen.
And the world was about the change.
Melanie stretched in her bed, her naked body sending a sensation of comfort through her as her muscles untangled themselves from their sleepy clench. She arched her back and spread her legs. Her large breasts, falling slightly to the sides of her body swelled under the cotton nightdress which gently scraped against her nipples. Believing herself to be allowed to do what she wanted now, Melanie focussed on the sensation of the cotton against their hardness, which to her wonder and amazement, made them grow even longer till they stood out like tiny soldiers against the large fleshy mounds of her breasts. It felt good, although soon the sensation was replaced by a gentle but insistent ache between her legs.
Then Melanie had a sudden and wicked thought.
She was alone in this room.
She was eighteen.
Why not indeed dear reader, for what is there to stop us when all permissions are in place but the barriers of youth carried inside present the only obstacles on our path? Melanie mistakenly believed her body to be her own now that she turned eighteen. She knew about modesty - only whores revealed their desires - but surely what she did with no one else around was her own business?
With a single, swift movement, Melanie tugged and pulled her nightdress over her head. She lay above her covers, the warm morning air caressing her soft youthful skin. She spread her legs and felt the naughty thrill of a slight cool lick of air against her hot damp sex. Pressing her feet into the mattress below, she raised her hips slightly off the bed, moving the weight of her body onto her shoulders. In this strange position, she spread her thighs even more.
Suddenly images flashed in her mind. Secrets from her past that arrived unbidden, usually in her dreams; The day she saw through the crack in her door, the maid standing in her bath sponging between her legs, one foot bracing herself on the edge of the bath, her head thrown back; another image of the stable hand with his back to her, his hands cupped in front of his body, a long stream of gold flowing out between his legs; her father's hands on her thighs; the smell of her tutor as he leaned in close and spoke to her of the Spanish and their fleets. These things combined inside her in a collage of desire that seemed to Melanie to be directly connected to a strong ache that began inside 'that spot'. She pumped her hips into the air as the ache between them started to throb. The need inside was great. Greater than anything she'd ever experienced. Was this part of turning eighteen?
What I have not told you yet, dear reader, is that in this moment, Melanie is not as alone as she supposes. Her tutor, a good man, had been watching her from a short distance with improper longings of his own. He never dared to touch any child, and so curbed all his desire for Melanie, however he knew as soon as she came of age that her father would want to marry her off to a life where sexual pleasure would be denied her.
She was a stunning peach, ripe on the vine; a peach the tutor knew could never be his. She would be lost to him within the next year for sure. Due to this reasoning, which was very accurate for the times, he decided his time in the sun would be the brief period he could have her in his grasp before she found a suitor and began the odious courting process, where a woman hid her sexual feelings and the man pretended to have enough for both. More than anything he wanted to give Melanie some pleasures before she was whisked away to a dry married life.
Now, watching her through the crack where the door stood ajar from its doorpost, his need grew as she tugged on her nipples and spread her legs to the air. That young body pulsing with lust and desire, desperate for some education, and most of all for release needed the instruction of a man who wanted her to feel pleasure. Melanie was moaning softly now, her face turned away from him, her hips thrusting against nothing, her fingers pulling gently on her elongated nipples. He'd guessed from the rest of her figure that her ass would be large and round, but now, revealed in all its wobbling glory, his shaft stood up strong, longing to bury itself deep into her secret pleasures.
Swiftly, so as not to cause a commotion, he glanced up and down the corridor and knowing the household to still be in their rooms, he slipped into Melanie's chamber.
"Oh!" She cried immediately diving under her covers. "You must knock now that I am eighteen!"
It was not unusual for her tutor to come into her room early in the morning, though she had never been naked in front of him before. They often shared a moment of light-hearted banter before the day began. It was a small secret that they enjoyed. But he had not been in her room for quite a few months, and Melanie assumed those visits were part of the childhood she left behind her.
The tutor remained at the door so as not to scare the girl.
"Madame, please. I do apologize. It's just that you were making some noise and I wanted to come in to inform you, that you must still be quiet. Even though you are eighteen, you have to keep certain noises to yourself, as some people might tell you they are wrong."
He stood by the door, a stern look on his face, and to Melanie it felt that she had gotten into trouble. She looked down at her hands over the top of the sheet in shame. She didn't realize the sheet slipped down to her waist and her large breasts sat hot and heavy under the tutor's eye.
"Madame, please do not be so troubled. I am here to help."
Melanie glanced up and saw him smiling, a kind and warm smile. She felt instantly better. Before she could say anything he moved to the further part of her room, and took the small chair from her desk. Then he placed it at the base of her bed, and sat on it, facing her. Melanie grasped at the sheet and pulled it up over her body again.
"Now, are you going to tell me what you were doing that caused such strange noises?" The tutor smiled at her, and Melanie felt a warm flush spread over her naked flesh.
"I... I... I thought now that I am eighteen, I can... feel things." She stammered. She couldn't look in his eye. The heat of shame began to spread over her face. "I... do not know what to say." She faltered.
"Don't trouble yourself." The tutor said. "I told you, I am here to help you. And I can now that you are eighteen. Tell me, do you feel an ache down there, As though you want something inside of you?"
Melanie's face shot up and she looked at her tutor in surprise. "Why yes! Yes! That is exactly how it feels."
"And tell me; is the feeling made stronger or weaker for my looking at you now?"
Melanie's head bowed fast again, and she stared at her hands as she fumbled with the sheet. "I am feeling it stronger for your looking at me."
She still watched her hands as he went on.
"Madame this is very normal, and now that you are eighteen, you can do something about it. There is great pleasure to be taken from your body, but you must trust me and do what I say. Are you willing to do that?"
Melanie looked up into his face, and saw nothing but warmth and kindness there. There was a strange spark in his eyes, and his hand tugged at his crotch, but he looked with gentleness upon her so that Melanie felt as though she was very safe.
"Yes. But I thought I was not allowed to enjoy my body?"
The tutor sighed. "There are those who will say that to you. That is why so many things must be hidden. But for now, we will help you with this ache of yours. I want you to stand on the bed. Don't worry about being naked. I have seen this sight many times in my anatomy classes."
Melanie's heart began to race; she stood naked in front of a man for the first time in her life. The shame tumbled around inside her with a weird thrill she'd never known. However, excitement took her completely and she stood, allowing the sheet to fall at her feet, eager to do all that he said.
"Spread your legs." Said the tutor.
Melanie spread her legs. Perhaps this game would be fun.
"Place your fingers down there, and get inside. Move the fingers into your body as much as you dare." The tutor said.
The ache inside Melanie as she stood before him in this manner was stronger now even than the horse riding day, which was a thrill she'd never felt the equal of since. Her breath grew short. She liked the tutor telling her what to do, even if he was telling her to do that which had gotten her into terrible trouble in the past. An overwhelming desire to please him moved over her. She brought her right hand to her sex and cupped it over the dark hair that grew there.
"That's it. Good girl. Now do as I said."
Melanie allowed her fingers to part the outer folds of her body. Her fingers began to explore her inner flesh. It was hot, and very slippery.
"What do you feel?" The tutor asked.
Melanie spoke automatically, so used to answering questions from her tutor was she.
"I feel a heat and a very thick slippery wetness with my hand, and I feel a soothing sensation down there, as I spread my fingers around."
"Does it feel good Madame?" asked the tutor. Melanie opened her eyes to see him watching her, eagerly. He gaze was firmly upon her fingers as they explored around the most intimate part of her body.
"Oh yes." said Melanie. "It feels very good."
"Do you still ache inside?" He asked.
"I ache even more. It is throbbing deep within, and also it is burning in a small place above."
"You can touch that small place if you want. You can touch that any time, Madame. You can touch it in the bath, or at nights, or even in the mornings. Every time you touch it, you will feel this good. Do you want to touch it now, or would you rather have something inside of you to sooth that ache?"
Melanie's head was back now, as her fingers probed, and saliva was starting to pool at the corner of her mouth.
"Oh, something inside me! Oh yes. I want something inside me."
"Walk to the foot of the bed." The tutor sad in a voice that sounded more like a command.
Melanie withdrew her fingers. The tutor looked at them as saw they were webbed with the clear slick juices her body had made. How he longed to reach out and lick those juices from her hand. But he didn't dare touch her. Not yet. She was so lovely; her enormous breasts bounced seductively as she walked to the foot of the bed. He could smell her arousal now, the room was starting to throb with it. The ache in his cock was driving him wild. He had to be patient, but this lovely ripe woman was the most delicious thing he'd ever seen. He needed to build her trust in this matter, however, before anyone else got to her. And that meant hands off for this morning. He'd have to stop off at the maid's room before he got on with the rest of the day.
"Turn your back to me Madam." Said the tutor to Melanie.
Melanie was desperate. She'd never felt this much strength coming from between her legs. She wanted him to stick his thing in her, and she wished desperately that he would. She needed something down there so bad. She could feel the small droplets of juice starting to run down her inner thigh. Oh how the desire overwhelmed her.
"Get on your knees Melanie." Said the tutor.
Melanie fell to her knees. The tutor still remained in his chair watching her, and now her large backside faced him. She looked back up at her disheveled bed, her nightdress lay in a crumpled heap, like the end of her innocence.
"Rub your bottom against the back of the bed Melanie."
Melanie pushed her ass back against the iron of the foot of the bed. The bed held four large posts over which stood a canopy, but long ornate iron bars cross-crossed against the mattress at the end of her bed. Jutting out from the center was a rounded column, about six inches long.
Melanie could feel the cool metal against her hot flesh. Suddenly she got the idea. She wanted the small metal column inside her. All she had to do was lift her bottom and she could clamp down onto it and it would soothe that desperate ache she felt. It might rescue her from the strength of feeling she was developing for her tutor. She moved her ass suggestively toward the small post.
"I know what you want Madame. Take it. Raise your bottom and slide that thing into you. It won't hurt and you can practise it and do it over any time you are alone in your room."
By now the tutor had his cock out of his trousers and in his hand. He couldn't stand it. This beautiful little whore writing in lust before him. He'd never seen juice like she could produce. He was sure if he placed a cup at her entrance she could fill it with her lubricant. Her ass was enormous, large mounds of wobbling flesh that wriggled and quivered before him. He would stick his cock into that sometime this week, and fuck her brains out. He watched as she lifted it, and sank it down over the metal pole that he knew she would use many more times as a fake cock.
"That's it." he crooned. "Yes, just slide it all the way in like a good girl."
He watched as it slid into her. She had her legs spread wide before him now, bracing herself on her feet, her hands splayed out under her breasts to balance the top of her body. As soon as the great cock entered her pussy, her large swelling, fat ass started to bounce and bounce hard as if every natural instinct within clicked into place. He bent down, tugging furiously at his dick, to get a close look at the piece of metal slicing its way into her virgin cunt. As he watched, he saw through her body, to her breasts. The left had a drip coming off it. Melanie was drooling and it was running down her tits.
He came in a burst over the top of her ass, spurting his cum over her cheeks as they pounded hard into the metal cock in a way no virgin should ever need. He'd never seen lust in anyone as strong as her. Never had he seen an inexperienced woman start in such a dire and desperate way.
Melanie threw her head back and moaned. The tutor looked down at her ass, and saw great droplets of fluid squeezing between the iron bar and the tight grip her fresh pussy had on it. Slowly she lifted herself off it. Strands of thick globby juice stretched between her muff and her beloved post.
Melanie moved back on the bed. The tutor found her a towel, and after cleaning the bed post with it, he passed it to her. Something strange was on her back, so she wiped that clean first, and then ran the towel between her legs.
"Oh my." She said.
"You can do that any time, on your own Madame. You may find it comes in handy a great deal." said her tutor.
"I feel as though now I need some sleep." said Melanie.
"Yes of course. I will leave you, and see you just after breakfast."