tagBDSMMelissa

Melissa

bywistan©

There are moments, in an otherwise unhappy life, when it all seems to go right. Perhaps the stars and planets align just so, or fate's roll comes up a double six, or it's just plain dumb luck, but it seems that at certain moments the world just arranges itself so that, for once, I win.

The day I met Melissa was a day like that.

She was absolutely stunning, she was absolutely fascinating, and best of all she was absolutely interested in me. That last is rare indeed for me, but the combination was beyond rare, it was unknown.

I plucked up the courage to ask for her number, and she gave it to me just like that. Before I quite realised how or why, we were dating regularly.

It will be obvious that I had precious little experience of women, especially for a thirty five year old man. Melissa was younger, in her late twenties, but she seemed very worldly compared to me. She was prim and proper for the most part, but now and again she'd make some knowing comment, a twinkle of delight in her eyes. The first time we went out on a date I spent the entire day running over and over it in my head, rehearsing hopefully funny things to say. I was nervous as hell all night long, but I kept it carefully hidden, stayed cool and collected on the outside. Or so I thought. As I dropped Melissa off at home I was debating whether to kiss her goodnight, rolling it around in my head. I finally decided against it. Didn't want to seem too forward. So I bade her goodnight and started to turn towards the car.

"Gary," she said in her soft voice. "A word of advice?" I turned back.

"Um, sure."

"You spend all day worrying, and in the end you decided not to kiss me?" She said, an eyebrow raised. "Caution is a good thing, but don't take it to excess."

And with that she stepped in close, put her arms around me, and kind of melted into me as she pressed her lips to mine. It was the softest, warmest thing I had ever felt. I was instantly hard... and instantly embarrassed.

She broke the kiss, still holding herself against me, and looked me in the eye. I could feel the heat in my cheeks as I blushed, wondering desperately if she could feel my cock pressing against my trousers.

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" She said playfully.

"Um, no, not bad at all," I said.

She smiled wider. "High praise indeed," she said. She reached up and brushed her fingers through my hair. "You know Gary, you worry far too much." And with that, she stepped back and walked away.

And that's how it was with Melissa and I. No matter how careful I was, no matter how good a front I thought I'd put up, now and again she'd say or do something to let me know that she knew just exactly what was going on in my head.

At the end of our third date, I took her back to her place as usual. I was filled with nerves; you know what people say about third dates. We hugged and kissed goodnight, this time holding one another for a long time. Eventually she broke it and smiled up at me. "You should know by now, Gary, that I don't do things just because I am expected to. Goodnight." And she went inside.

Over the coming weeks and months, I found out just how committed to that attitude Melissa was. We kissed, we cuddled, but that was as far as she would go. It was frustrating as hell, and I began to get used to leaving her at the end of the evening with a hard on pressing uncomfortably against my underwear. It was almost like she was going out of her way to drive me crazy and give me a case of blue balls.

One night she broke a kiss and sat back, looking at me. "How often do you masturbate, Gary?" She asked.

I blushed, but I was starting to get used to her directness. "Um, most days," I said hesitantly.

"Hmm," she said. "Wouldn't you say that your sexual energies should be directed towards your girlfriend?"

I grinned goofily. That was the first time she had referred to herself as that! "Well... I guess that sounds reasonable," I said finally.

"Good, then that's settled," she said happily. "No more masturbating for you. Promise?"

"I promise."

And so it was. I went home that night desperately turned on. I stripped off when I got home and lay on the bed, cock standing rock hard. I could have jerked off... she had no way of finding out. But something stopped me. I'd promised, and I am a man of my word. Besides, I had the feeling that she would know. She always seemed to know what I was thinking.

The next month was horribly, wonderfully frustrating for me. Melissa sent me home literally every night desperate, almost pleading for relief. She always had a little amused smile on her face when she did it, too. "Just think," she'd say, "when it finally does happen, imagine how wonderful it will be!"

Eventually, Melissa decided that we would be married. Said like that it sounds like it was a spur of the moment whim. In truth there was a great deal more to it. There were deep conversations and long meaningful looks and a growing sense of closeness and love... and a great deal of teasing. But in the end, I found myself standing in a registry office saying "I do", and I was now a married man.

We went to a beautiful hotel in Rome for our honeymoon. I could hardly keep my eyes off my beautiful wife all day long. She had looked amazing in her flowing white wedding dress and afterwards had changed into a breathtakingly sexy designer outfit that left me with an almost permanent hard on. I had to suggest going for an early night a good half dozen times before she finally consented.

I almost threw myself at her as soon as we got through the door. She made me slow down and back off, directing my fumbling movements as she had me undress myself. When I stood before her naked, she looked down at me and raised her eyebrows.

"My, is that all you have down there?" She asked. I blushed furiously, stunned and humiliated. Visions of my new wife walking out on me danced behind my eyes. Melissa watched me for a long moment and then smiled and stepped close. She ran her fingers through my hair, smiling. "Oh now don't pout like that," she said. "You know how much I love you, don't you?"

"Yes," I muttered. I was acutely aware of the fact that she was still fully dressed.

She ran a finger under my jaw and raised my face to hers. "I do," she said seriously. "Gary, I do love you. But our relationship has always been based on honesty, and that is something I will always expect from you, and always give you in return. This," and she reached down and took hold of my still stiff cock, "is a small, small cock. Practically tiny." She began to stroke. Her hand felt so soft, so hot. I actually moaned out loud as she stroked me. Her touch was so knowing, so expert. I reached for her and she stopped suddenly, taking my wrist in her hand and easing my arm down to my side again. She moved over to the bed, still holding my cock, tugging me along behind her like it was some sort of leash. She eased me down onto the bed. "Nice and still," she murmured into my ear. "Just lie there and relax."

I struggled to obey as she returned to stroking me. "Hmmm, it really is small, isn't it honey?" She whispered into my ear. I blushed in humiliation and shame, but her hand kept moving, kept bringing me closer to the edge. She had me so close to cuming but she slowed, slackening her grip slightly, keeping me there, balanced on a knife edge. Just one or two good strokes and I would shoot my load...

"Really not that impressive a specimen," Melissa said as she stroked my cock. "Just look at it there... can't even be four inches, I'd guess. Myself, I do love a nice big cock. I love to have one inside me... pushing really, really deep. I love it when a man is long, and thick." She was whispering into my ear in her low, sexy voice. She pressed her body against mine and I felt her warmth against my skin. God, she was driving me insane with lust. I could feel waves of it sweeping through me, an almost desperate need to cum. And still she held me there, so close.

"How does it feel, Gary?" She asked quietly. "How does my hand feel on your little baby cock? Does it feel good?"

"Oh god yesssssss..." I hissed shakily. "Pleeeeeease let me cum. Please Melissa, I'll do anything but god, I need to cum so badly..."

"Hmm, I like that," she said. "That you'd do anything for me. But Gary... you're so small down here, with your tiny little cock and these little baby balls." She reached over with her other hand and cupped my balls, rolling them expertly in her fingers. "I can't imagine you blow a very big load when you cum, do you?"

"No...." I whispered, feeling the heat of my shame on my cheeks.

"No," she said as she stroked me. "In fact, you're so small, I'd say it's not even worth you cuming at all, is it?" She asked as if she was honestly curious but I felt the shame right down to my core at her words.

"Please," I begged. "Please let me cum." It was all I could think to say.

She stopped and sat up. "No."

I stared at her, and I actually felt tears brimming in my eyes. "Please," I said weakly.

She shook her head. "I said no."

She spun around, hitching her skirt up and throwing one leg over me and straddling my face. She wasn't wearing any panties underneath. "But that doesn't mean we're finished, honey." And with that she lowered herself onto my face. She was absolutely soaking down there. She rode my face, writhing with pleasure as adjusting her posture to present herself to me. And all the time, she murmured soft instructions. "Lick there... faster... kiss it... push harder... deeper..."

I felt like a sex toy. A masturbation device that she was using to pleasure herself. My cock was straining, furiously hard; every now and again Melissa would reach out and stroke it, making sure I was still hovering on the edge as she used me to pleasure herself. She clenched her thighs on my head and I heard her draw breath sharply and then let out a long, low moan as the orgasm swept through her. I hesitated, not sure what to do. "Keep going!" she growled. "Do NOT stop!" I resumed work, finding the little nub that seemed harder than the rest, caressing it with my tongue, again and again. "Yessssssss," she groaned as another long series of tremors swept through her. "That's it, just like that. Of FUCK yes...."

She seemed to ride me forever. I don't know how many orgasms she had. Perhaps five, perhaps six. Finally she stilled, lying quietly on me. I could feel her breath, almost panting in exhaustion. Gradually it slowed as she rested, and then she laughed and rolled off me.

"Hmmmm, not bad at all," she said, stroking my face.

"Can I, err... can I cum now?" I asked hesitantly.

She laughed. "How many times do I need to say no, Gary?" She shook her head. "No cuming for you. That little cock and balls of yours, they're just too small to make it worthwhile."

I stared at her, stunned. "Oh don't worry, silly," she said, cuddling up to me. I felt her body pressed against mine, soft and warm, and my cock lurched. I so desperately needed to cum... "I still love you, honey," she cooed into my ear. "I really do. You are my husband, and you will always have a place with me. But we have to face facts." She reached down, holding my cock. "This is a pretty inadequate little thing. It's no use to me, no use to anybody really. I'm your wife, Gary, and your sexual energies are supposed to be directed towards me. Well it will be... but in a way that actually does some good."

She turned serious. "And honey... when I say there's no point in you cuming, of course that includes jerking off. I will NOT have my husband masturbating, is that understood?"

I looked at her, mouth suddenly dry. "Yeah..." I said hesitantly. "It's understood."

She smiled again. "Good. Now help me change, it's still early and I'm going back downstairs."

I helped her out of her clothes, cock still standing to hardness as her body was finally revealed to me for the first time. She was every bit as magnificent as I had always thought; smooth, creamy skin, rounded medium sized breasts that stood proud and firm, long smoothly muscular limbs. She had me run a bath and relaxed in it whilst I soaped and rinsed her body. Afterward I dried her off carefully and watched as she selected some sexy lingerie from her case -- a pair of stockings and suspender belt, a white bra -- then donned a silky blue dress that was short, low, and very figure hugging. She looked amazing.

"I'll be in the club," she said. "Go clean up, then follow me down." And with that she walked out.

I rushed to get ready, practically leaping in and out of the bath and then clambering into some clothes before running downstairs to the club. It was noisy and smoky. I couldn't find Melissa at the bar, where I assumed she would be, and soon realise why; she was on the dance floor. She was dancing with some stranger.

If one could call it dancing. It looked more like vertical foreplay. I watched as my lovely young wife pressed her body to the tall stranger, writhing to the music. He was running his hands all over her back and sides, grinding his crotch into her... I stared at them for a long moment then walked over to a nearby table and sat down, blushing and humiliated.

For an hour they danced together, clearly very into one another, whilst I watched. I felt completely helpless, powerless. I wanted to storm over, demand to know what was going on, cause a scene... but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Melissa was not somebody who did things lightly, or without thinking of the consequences. She knew perfectly well that I was following her down, so she knew perfectly well that I would see what was going on. She wanted me to see it.

Eventually she dragged her new friend over, giggling and clearly very happy indeed. "Evening, darling!" She said brightly. "This is Chris. Chris, meet my husband! Gary, why don't you go get us some drinks?"

Chris was tall, handsome, young, fit looking. Everything I was not. I felt a surge of jealousy at the way she was holding his hand as they sat down. Without a word I trudged over to the bar.

When I got back, Melissa was cuddling up to Chris, leaning in close and talking into his ear. He looked at me with a huge smile as I set the drinks down. "So your cock is really that small?" He asked casually.

I blushed beet red in utter embarrassment and humiliation. Melissa burst into a fit of giggles at the expression on my face. I looked at her, stunned, and she laughed harder. "Well it's no secret is it, silly!" she said.

I had thought it was, but apparently not. I sighed heavily.

"Well I can see why she doesn't want to fuck you," Chris said. "As she said, not a whole lot of point. It's sad, though." He put his hand around my wife's waist. "A woman should be well fucked on her wedding night."

Melissa smiled and looked me right in the eye. "Yes indeed," she said evenly. "She should. Don't you agree, Gary?"

I knew exactly what she was asking. My mind was whirling. Obviously Melissa wasn't going to have sex with me tonight, she'd made that clear earlier! I could still feel my balls practically throbbing with frustration from earlier. But... well, she did kind of have a point. Was there any reason she should suffer just because of my inadequacies?

I felt myself nodding. Melissa smiled and turned to Chris. "Give us a moment here, lover," she said, relishing the last word. I heard it and knew that she was confirming the odd little triangle we had just formed. Chris stood up with a smirk directed at me and headed off towards the loos.

Melissa looked at me. I wondered if my wife was about to tell me she wanted a divorce. Or an annulment, perhaps.

She put her arms out and pulled me into a hug. "I am so proud of you," she said with quiet intensity. "And I want you to know, I have never loved you as much as I do right at this moment."

I sagged into her, burying my head in her shoulder. Tears began to flow instantly. She held me for a long time, shushing me. When I finally clamed down she sat up and looked at me.

"I thought you were leaving me," I said simply.

She laughed. "Oh Gary, I'm your wife. For me to want to leave you, you would have to do something so... well it's almost unimaginable." She took my hand and held it, and I was struck, as I always am, by the warmth and softness of her skin. "This, you and I... this is forever, Gary. Trust it. Just be loyal to me, and obey me, and I'm not going anywhere." She looked up as Chris approached and smiled. "Except, of course, up to our room." She looked at me and smiled a completely feral smile. "And you're coming too."

She led the way with Chris half a step behind and myself trailing in the rear. As soon as we got to our room Chris was all over her. He walked up behind her, putting his hands over her breasts and cupping them as he kissed her neck. Melissa turned to watch me close the door as Chris trailed kisses up and down her neck.

"Hmmm, that's lovely," she said. "Gary, why don't you get undressed for us? I want to show Chris why we need him here."

I obeyed without a word, tossing my clothes into a pile as I stripped. My cock stirred as I undressed before them, rising to full hardness as I dropped my trousers. "You didn't exactly marry him for his body, did you?" Chris said with a laugh as I dropped my shirt. I blushed and Melissa shook her head. "No, I didn't," she replied.

When I dropped my briefs Chris burst into hysterical laughter. "That's it?" He roared. Melissa tried to look serious for a moment, but she dissolved into giggles. I stood there, taking it, shame filling to the point where I thought it was about to start seeping out the pores of my skin. My cock stood stiff and hard, such as it was, as my wife openly laughed at me.

"Turn the bed down for us, there's a dear," she said finally. "Then undress Chris. Have a good look at how good a man can look!"

Chris smirked at me as I turned the bed down then approached him. He watched as I removed his jacket "Put it away properly, cuck, I don't want it creased," he said. I found a hangar and hung it in a closet before removing his shirt. His torso was lean and well muscled.

I removed his socks and shoes, then unbuckled his belt and slide his trousers down. He wasn't wearing any underwear, and I was surprised as his cock bounced up and damn near hit me in the face. "Take a good look at it, cuck," Chris laughed. "That's what eight and a half inches looks like."

Melissa came up behind him, reaching around and caressing his cock. He moaned, and I knew from experience just how good Melissa could make that feel. She stood there for a long minute, caressing his thick cock to maximum hardness, then stepped back. "My turn," she said.

I moved in and eased her dress off her shoulders, revealing her glorious body. She gestured to her bra and I unhooked it, her breasts bouncing free. Her nipples were stiff and hard, clear evidence of how excited she was. "You can leave the stockings," she said. "Have a seat. Chris wants to fuck me on our bridal bed, and I want you to watch."

I did as ordered, and sat down to watch the proceedings. Chris practically through my wife onto the bed and fell on her, hands going straight to her tits as his tongue went into her mouth. She moaned with pleasure as his fingers found her mount and slid between her slick pussy lips, frigging her gently.

Chris broke the kiss and licked her neck, trailing his tongue down her body, between her breasts, across her stomach... and down into the folds of her pussy. Melissa moaned, her body shuddering with lust as he went to work on her clit. I knew from experience how much she liked receiving head!

Melissa straightened up and turned, lowering her body over Chris's and taking his big cock in her hand. She stroked it lovingly as he went back to town on her pussy with his tongue, and then lowered her head and slipped the thick fleshy rod into her mouth. Now Chris moaned as he slid his cock deep into my wife's mouth, locked in a 69. I shivered, my eyes locked on the two of them. Their bodies were lean and fit and tanned, so perfect both of them.... jealous and frustrated though I was, I couldn't deny that they seemed like a perfect physical match.

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