Chapter 6
"Mother?" Melissa sweetly inquired a few days later at the breakfast table. "Yes, dear?"
"May I please go to New York this weekend."
"Whatever for, dear? You just went last month."
"I know!"
"Then why would you like to go again? New York is so cold."
"I'm obviously not going for the weather!"
"Respect your elders, young lady." Blake Millicent-Forbes snapped, looking up from his morning newspaper.
"Sorry."
"Then why do you want to go?" Mrs. Millicent-Forbes asked.
"Well, last month I only went there to see the Broadway plays."
"Yes. And you saw all the good ones, didn't you, dear?"
"Yes. And deathly boring things they were, I must say."
"Why was that?"
"You know, no live sex acts, no body getting bludgeoned to death on stage ... that sort of thing...."
"Melissa!"
Mrs. Millicent-Forbes stared at her young daughter in horror. "Sorry, mother."
"You still have not told me why you want to go this time. I certainly hope it is not to witness live sex acts and ... brutal acts of violence...."
"Of course not!"
"Well, Melissa, please tell me why. My coffee is getting cold."
"Very well, mother. I want to go to look at the art galleries."
"Melissa! You do tend to shock me at times! I never thought you had any interest in aesthetics!"
"But I do, Mother! I really do."
"Well! Wonders certainly will never cease, will they?"
"Can I go? Can I?!! PLEASE???!! " Melissa whined. Mrs. Millicent-Forbes' brow furrowed. "Well, I don't know. I really is a very dangerous town. What do you think, Blake."
"Let her go."
"YIPPPEEEE!!! "
Melissa, obviously, had an ulterior motive for visiting the art galleries of New York. A sexual ulterior motive. Of course.
The horny little girl had seen a photo of once of the finest up-and-coming artists of New York's Lower East Side in an issue of one of the imported fashion magazines she kept on the nightstand beside her bed.
Branston Cleaverton was his name.
And the girl had taken one look at this hot young stud and the huge bulge in his paint-spattered jeans.
One look had been enough to get Melissa interested in New York and art.
"Not so fast! How are you going to get around on your own? Not on those vulgar subways loaded with creeps and perverts, I hope?" Melissa's mother asked.
Although the idea seemed intriguing to Melissa, she shook her head no.
"How, then, dear?"
"I'll take Bojangles along with me, of course!" Melissa tittered with glee. "We can rent a limousine and he can drive me around everywhere!"
"Well! I suppose that's all settled then, isn't it?"
"Damn right!"
Mrs. Millicent-Forbes almost dropped her china teacup.
"Such language!" she gasped. "Sorry, mother."
"No. I'm afraid that truck driver's mouth of yours will simply have to go."
"Aw...."
"I mean it, Melissa! Since your Father and I are allowing you to go to New York, I do not want to hear any of that repulsive language emitting from your mouth upon your return. Is that quite clear?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Good. Now finish your eggs and then you may go tell Bojangles your plans."
"Thank you, Mother."
Melissa wolfed down the remainder of her meal, then slid from her chair.
"I'm going to tell my chauffeur now," she said. "IS it okay if we stay for a week?"
"However long you want, dear. But don't you think a week of looking at paintings hanging on gallery walls will be a bit dreary?"
Melissa thought of the huge bulge in Branston Cleaverton's crotch and shook her head vehemently no.
"Are you sure, dear? Wouldn't you rather go to Walt Disney World with Bojangles for the week."
"Shit no."
"MELISSA!"
"I mean ... no. Disney World is for stupid kids!"
"But you are only fourteen, dear."
"I don't care! I want to see some art in New York!"
Mrs. Millicent-Forbes sighed.
"Whatever you say, dear."
The woman took another sip of her lukewarm tea.
Blake Millicent-Forbes' head was still buried in the newspaper.
Melissa skipped gaily out of the dining room, her head full of visions of the hunky young artist with the massive cock hanging between his legs....
"Where's Branston Cleaverton?" Melissa snarled at the bespeckled young man behind the counter of the Sigue-Sigue Gallery on East Tenth Street.
"I said where's Branston Cleaverton?!! "
The man looked with distaste at the belligerent girl with the impassive black man at her side.
Melissa had a suntan.
Californians!
The man snorted with contempt.
"This is a gallery, not a social club for artist!" he intoned dryly.
"FUCK YOU!" Melissa shrieked.
The man's horn-rimmed spectacles almost fell from his pointy nose.
"Missy Millicent-Forbes!" Bojangles begged. "Please have some respect for others...."
"Oh, fuck off! You're nothing but a silly darkie anyway!" Melissa growled.
Bojangles disappeared behind an impassive facade once again.
If Melissa got herself tossed out of the gallery, he wanted to be no part of it.
Perhaps if that likely event did occur, Melissa would call her father up and demand that he buy the gallery.
Then she would be able to fire the young man with the spectacles.
"Listen!" Melissa said indignantly. "Don't you know who the hell I am?"
The quiet young man looked up from a row of slides he was studying.
"I don't know who you are," he said. "But I can certainly tell what you are!"
"WHAT???!!! " Melissa sputtered, enraged.
"You heard what I said. Now clear out of here before you scare the collectors away with your repulsive Californian behavior!"
The young man glared at Melissa.
Then his face suddenly spread into a welcoming grin.
"HI!" he waved to a handsome young man who had just swaggered up to the group.
Melissa turned around to confront the intruder.
Her face suddenly lit up with glee.'
"Branston!! " she wailed, running over and hugging the very surprised man around the waist.
Branston Cleaverton looked down at the nubile, sexy young nymphette who had just attacked him.
His face was a mixture of shock and surprise.
And delight.
Melissa's fantastic boobs squashed suggestively against his brawny chest. "And who are you?"
"Don't let this vulgar creature bother you, Mr. Cleaverton."
"Shut up, Tom. I was talking to her, not to you!"
"Sorry, Mr. Cleaverton!"
"I'll ask again: Who are you?"
"I'm Melissa Millicent-Forbes. And I want to fuck you!"
Branston flashed the girl a seductive grin.
"Oh, yeah? I think it would be more the other way around. I would have to fuck you."
"Who the hell cares?" Melissa asked. "We both get our rocks off either way!"
Bojangles clamped his eyes shut in humiliation.
Was the young girl never going to learn the intricacies of social etiquette? It didn't seem likely.
"Are you the daughter of Blake Millicent-Forbes?"
"Damn right!"
"Hmm...."
"What's the matter? Don't want to fuck the daughter of one of the richest and most influential guys on the planet?"
"Quite the contrary, actually...."
Tom was horrified and repulsed and resumed his close scrutiny of the slides.
Bojangles pretended to be remarkably interested in a rather disgusting painting of a headless woman being disemboweled by wart hogs that hung on the wall next to him.
"Shit! You mean people know me out here in New York?"
"Well, I don't know about that. But a few of my friends play for Los Angeles' football team.. "
Melissa giggled and covered her mouth with her dainty pink fingernails.
"Oh, yes! I had them all over one night at our manor."
"So I heard. Quite an evening...."
"Certainly was!"
"You're quite an amazing little girl, I hear."
"The best!"
"And quite an amazing lay."
"The best!"
"Let's go!"
"Where?"
"You name it!"
"How about my place?"
"Where's that?"
"Two blocks down."
"Bojangles, my chauffeur, will drive us."
"But it's only a five minute walk!"
"So what! We rented a fucking pink Cadillac convertible! I have to ride in it somewhere!"
"Okay. Let's go. I'm getting all hot and horny just staring at your big tits!"
"Shit! How the hell do you think I feel about that big bulge between your legs?! "
"I don't know how you feel about it now, but I know how you're going to feel about it later!"
"Oh, yeah? How?"
"Exhausted."
Melissa shrieked with unlady-like laughter. "Bojangles, go get the car," she ordered. "Yes, ma'am."
Branston has stripped off his clothes.
He lay on his bed, the throbbing cock that had caught Melissa's horny eyes the week before exposed for her pleasure.
"Let me suck that big dick!" she wailed.
"Is it as big as you thought it would be?"
"Bigger!"
"Really?"
"Shit, yeah! I used to think that my chauffeur Bojangles had the biggest cock around. You know what you hear about those darkies...."
"Yeah. They sure give us white boys a bad name!"
"But this mother-fucker ...!! "
Melissa took the massive tool between her slender fingers.
She could barely fit her hand around the meaty shaft, it was so large.
"Are you sure you'll be able to take it down your throat? You are quite a young girl, after all!"
"Maybe I'm young, but I've certainly got experience!"
"Great! Let's feel some of that experience wrapped around my tool, then."
"You bet!"
Melissa spread her lips.
She realized she was going to have to stretch them extra wide if she was even about the entertain the idea of taking the cock in her mouth.
It was so big!
It was monstrous!
Gargantuan!
Just one glance at that amazing shaft of thick, white cockmeat had set the girl's pussy juices flowing.
Melissa had stripped out of her clothes and flung them onto the artist's bedroom floor.
Melissa glanced at the man's cockhead.
It was throbbing and purple and bigger than two of Melissa's fists.
She tried to open her mouth and take the tasty treat down her tender young throat in a variety of positions.
But each time she edged closer and closer to the massive rod it seemed impossible that she would be able to slip it into her greedy orifice.
"To hell with this shit!" she gasped.
"What do you mean?"
"There's no way in hell I'm going to be able to take that thing down my throat!"
Branston looked disappointed.
"You mean you're going to put your clothes back on and head back to your pink Cadillac and your hung darkie chauffeur?"
"Do you think I'm crazy? Of course not! I mean I'm going to just let you fuck me instead!"
"Fantastic!"
Branston suddenly paused, however.
"But are you sure your cunt will be able to handle my massive cock?"
"Shit! Two of those football players fucked me at the same time! I think my pussy can handle anything! We've been through quite a lot in my mere fourteen years, let me tell you!"
"I can certainly believe that!" Branston said as Melissa battered her perky blue eyes at him seductively.
Melissa lay on the bed and spread her legs. Wide.
She knew this massive member was going to be a tight fit.
But she also realized that it was going to make her one mighty happy girl.
Shit, she was going to be downright ecstatic!
Branston straddled Melissa's young form.
His cock throbbed in anticipation.
The hot young artist was desperate to get his cock lodged between those delicate pussy lips.
He shoved forward.
Melissa screamed as she was suddenly impaled on the amazingly thick shaft. And then she moaned. In rapture. "Feel good."
"Great."
"Want more."
"There's more?"
"That's only half of it! You got about another seven inches to go, baby."
"Hot damn!"
"Does that mean I should go ahead."
"You're fucking right it does! Hell, you're gonna fuck my stomach out of my throat!"
"I really just might!"
Melissa shrieked in ecstasy as Branston filled her abyss of love with inch after inch of his amazing cock.
She wailed with delight and tears welled in her eyes as she suddenly felt the man's balls smack up against her pelvic bone.
Melissa had taken the entire thing up her cunt!
Branston Cleaverton had impaled her on his shaft! He had buried himself up to the hilt!
Branston began to pump up the dripping pussy with slow, steady strokes.
"How's that feel?"
"Great!! Just great!!! "
"Want me to go faster?"
"Yeah!"
"Faster still?"
"Yeah!"
"Even faster?"
"YEAH!"
Melissa continued to squeal in delight as Branston worked his hips back and forth with ferocious fury.
The fertile fields were soaked with the young girl's lust juices that flowed like a river.
Her cunt made squishing noises as Branston attacked it again and again.
SQUISH!
SQUASH!
SQUISH!
SQUASH!
"Oh, yeah, baby! I'm gonna come! You ready to take that load up your cunt?"
"AM I EVER!! SHOOT AWAY!! "
Melissa's entire body trembled.
Her young limbs shuddered.
Her pussy tingled in rapture.
Her delicate pink lips seemed to revel in every last inch of cockmeat that was violating their sugar walls.
Branston's brow was covered with sweat. His brawny body flexed and contracted as he continued to pound up Melissa's chute. And suddenly he could contain himself no longer.
The big man came. And came. And came.
He pumped load after load of jism up Melissa's cunt.
The girl was exhausted.
Her pussy muscles could barely grip the thrusting cock after the third load of come had been emptied into it.
Melissa collapsed on the man's bed before the final few drops of come had even left his cockhead. Melissa collapsed with a smile on her face. Branston pulled out of here pussy. The girl had really been a great lay.
But she was young.
And would be getting older and more experienced.
The hot young stud couldn't wait to meet her again in a few years!
Branston shoved his quickly-softening cock into his underwear
He went into the bathroom to take a shower and wash the pussy juices from his shaft.
On his bed, Melissa dozed off....