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Ah, Melissa. That?s a name that brings back fond memories of a time of passion and illicit romance. Even now, I can taste the hint of cinnamon on her lips and sense the subtle fragrance of an obscure flower that was the essence of the perfume she wore.Melissa and her husband, a stoic and foolish man whose unpronounceable name I have chosen to forget, lived in the same apartment complex as I. Even so, she might never have come to my attention if not for the fact that we did our laundry at the same time of the morning.For many weeks we would pass by one another, nodding and wearing that friendly smile that one puts on around a stranger. I had, of course, noticed that she was an attractive woman. Being the man that I am, I never failed to let my eye be turned by a pretty face. Her petite figure and the delightfully graceful bounce in her step were a joy to behold. Having made note of her wedding ring though, I more or less considered her out of bounds as a possible playmate.Truthfully, that was more because of the actual proximity of her husband rather than any real personal ethic against adultery. To be completely honest, had I met her at a place farther from home, I might not have been quite so reluctant to become something more than just ?that guy she met down at the laundry.?Melissa, as I said, was a very attractive woman. She was about thirty as I recall, a bit younger than I was at the time. She was small, standing no more than five feet two inches tall and if she weighed one hundred and ten pounds I would have been surprised. Her beautifully thick, raven hair cascaded down over her shoulders and her rich and smooth skin was a full shade darker than a deep tan would have been on an Anglo.Her body was athletic and toned, and her breasts appeared firm under the tight-fitting tops she preferred. Melissa was gifted with strong facial features that might have put some men off, but I am not most men. To me, her exotic looks were as stunningly beautiful as they were difficult to place. It was only later that I learned she was of Lebanese descent.As with any new friendship, there came the day when those impersonal smiles became something more. On that day, I was sitting in the laundry, reading ?Conspiracy in Death? by J.D. Robb, and yes I am aware that it?s a pseudonym of Nora Roberts. Hell, everyone knows that, don?t they?I was about twenty minutes into my first load when Melissa came in with her daily basket. We gave each other that friendly, plastic smile, and then she saw my book."Oh my gosh, I love that series! I just finished 'Holiday In Death' last week! You've got to let me borrow it when you're finished!"She was actually bubbling with glee over it and I couldn't help but laugh at her excitement. I mean, the stories are pretty good, but I never imagined I'd meet anyone who would actually become giddy over the prospect of yet another hastily written drama featuring the hard but sexy Eve Dallas and her idolizing sidekick Delia Peabody. Well, anyone but me anyway, I've read most of them."Sure, it would be my pleasure," I responded as I flipped through the remaining pages. "'Tell you what, I'm about halfway through it now. By tomorrow I should be done. Why don't I bring it to your apartment? You can make me a cup of coffee."Her brow furrowed slightly at my offer and for a brief moment, the enchanting sparkle in her eye seemed to dim. It lasted but a single heartbeat, but in that time I could see the hesitation and uncertainty she felt at my perhaps overly zealous attempt to be a gentleman. "Hmm, I would like to, I really would, but my husband might not understand..."Realizing that I had overstepped her boundaries, I raised my hand, smiling in friendly defeat. "I understand completely," I replied, hoping I could save the moment from becoming even more awkward than it already was. I closed the book in surrender and held it out to her. "Why don't you just take it now? I've got a copy of 'Special Delivery' I've been looking forward to. I can wait to finish 'Conspiracy' until you are done."Melissa smiled brightly and laughed as she took the book from my hand. "Seriously? You read Danielle Steel? You've got to be kidding!"The previous awkwardness gone, I grinned and softly laughed. "Does that really surprise you? She really does write some very steamy prose, you know."Melissa actually blushed slightly and said "I know," while giggling in agreement. Then her smile widened as she went on. "It's a good thing my husband doesn't. If he did, he'd never let me read them! He thinks they're just sappy romance novels. He'd be absolutely scandalized if he knew what those books were really like!" Her laughter was as pleasantly lyrical as it was flirtatious and I couldn't resist laughing with her."Scandalized? Really?" I replied, raising my eyebrows in mock surprise. "That's a shame. It sounds to me like the poor guy doesn't know what he's missing out on." I smiled playfully as she unraveled my thinly veiled double entendre and after the briefest of moments her eyes lit up again. When she tried to suppress her growing smile by biting her lower lip, I was struck by how incredibly cute she was.Over the next few months, Melissa and I struck up a friendship that I would never have believed possible before that day. We shared our books and our love of the written word in a way that bound us together. Before the summer ended, we had become better friends than I would have thought possible without the uncomfortable presence of overt sexual attraction encroaching into our relationship.I say overt because sex was an almost ever-present part of our conversation. This we hid behind the thin veil of fictions that were the romance novels we shared. Through them, we could share our more illicit thoughts and desires without having to admit openly that we were actually desiring each other. Over time, I found myself craving her company and the steamy if innocent dialogues I shared with her.As the weather cooled and the winters rains began to make the complex's sparse laundry less than comfortable, moving our wash day get-together to the small kitchenette in my apartment seemed as sensible to me as it was unthreatening to her. It was at that time I learned of her taste for cinnamon in her coffee and its acridly sweet scent still reminds me of her to this day.By January, our comfort and trust had grown to the point Tunalı escort bayan (http://tunali.t2bro.net/) where we were sharing more than the passing erotic fantasies found in the shallow pages of dime-store novels. Melissa confided in me her deeper desires and I, in turn, revealed my own sordid history of past sexual dalliances. Even then, I could not say there was a promise of anything between us more than the satisfying honesty of having someone with whom we could share such intimate thoughts. Deep in my heart,*I could no longer deny how much I had come to want her.From the beginning, it was painfully obvious that Melissa was happy in her marriage and I came to silently despair that our conversations would remain nothing more than pure fantasy. The truth of it haunted me because while it was equally obvious that as gentle a lover her husband was, there was a fire within her that he could not begin to comprehend. It was there though, hot and alive in her breast, and every time she spoke of raw passion I could see that longing, that emptiness, slowly eating away at her.It was a time that was as wonderful for me as it was frustrating. I thought of her constantly, not out of love because I didn't feel that for her. Nor, I was certain, did she feel it for me. No, it was the chemistry we shared to which I was addicted. For three wonderful days each week I would sit across my table from her, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette while I lost myself in my never-to-be-fulfilled desire for a happily married woman. It was as glorious as it was maddening.It was on a cold but sunny February morning that everything changed. I could see from the moment she appeared that there was something on her mind. The normally breezy ease she shared with me had been replaced by an anxiety that I couldn't quite explain. I knew something was off, and it was with a sense of foreboding that I poured that first cup of coffee.Watching silently as she swirled her cinnamon stick into the steaming cup, I finally built up the nerve to take her hand in mine. "Melissa, is there something wrong? If there is, you know you can tell me. I'm your friend and if there's anything I can do..."Melissa smiled sadly and shook her head. "No David, I'm sorry but there's nothing you can do. My husband and I are moving away at the end of the month. I... I should have told you sooner, but I just couldn't bring myself to say it until I was sure.""Moving? Oh gosh, I'm really sorry to hear that." I sat back in my chair and brushed my dark hair back over my head, trying hard to keep my thoughts focused on her, and not to allow the moment to become about my own loss.Finally, I swallowed my shock along with my pride and managed to say something that wouldn't immediately come off as self-serving. "Well, I can't say I blame you for wanting to get out of this dump. So, what happened? Where are you moving to?"Melissa smiled sadly. "Colorado. My husband got a promotion at his firm, but it means moving to the Denver office."What could I do? I just sat there, gripping my cup as I struggled to contain my sadness. Eventually, I forced a smile that must have appeared as sad as the one she wore. "I suppose congratulations are in order, Melissa. I'm really happy for you both. Although, I really am going to miss our mornings."The words felt hollow and lame even as I spoke them. Sitting there and telling her I how happy I was that things were going so well for them may have been the right thing to do, but deep inside my heart, I felt my dislike for her husband turn into a seething hatred. It was a shallow and selfish reaction but I felt it nonetheless.What hurt, even more, was seeing how sorry she was to have to tell me. That thought, the realization that she cared so much for our friendship, touched me deeply. I knew I should have been honored by her feelings but they only served to make the loss of her friendship that much harder to take.Oh, I tried to deny it, and what followed was an optimistic flurry of attempts to show her how gallantly I could support their decision. All the while though, and through my crocodile smile, I cursed the fate that had stolen her from my life.Our time together that morning was short and before long Melissa made her goodbye, promising she would drop by again in a few days. Before she left, she pulled a thick and tattered book from her purse and almost reluctantly set it on the table. "This is my favorite book, David. You should read it right away. It's... well, you'll see."Watching her walk out the door that morning left me feeling empty and alone. When the door closed and silence filled the room, I gazed down at the dog-eared and well-read copy of 'Sweet Savage Love' she'd left behind.That night I poured my customary glass of brandy and sat in my chair as I studied the worn cover of the book. It was a typical Harlequin romance, or so it seemed. It was written by Rosemary Rodgers back in the 1970's and honestly, I didn't expect much from it. Oh, how wrong I was.It was the story of a young woman from the American Antebellum South named Virginia Brandon who, after being raised in Paris, was summoned home during the Civil War by her father. Once there, she quickly found herself in the forced company of a half-breed gunfighter and army spy by the name of Steve Morgan.Being part Native American myself, I couldn't help but feel an immediate connection with this man and soon began to find I was being drawn deeply into the story. That, however, was only the beginning of what turned out to be an even larger surprise.With but a kiss at first, and then later in explicit and erotic detail, he seduced and took the young virgin in a way that was almost as forceful as it was passionate. In the beginning, he had no love for her, and she less for him, but he found her impossible to resist, and she had no will to resist him at all.On and on through the first half of the book, the story unfolded of a strong man who took in graphic detail what he wanted and a young woman who failed in her feeble attempts to resist him.Late into the night, I poured over the pages and I could not help but wonder why Melissa would have given me this book of all things as our last story to share. As dawn rose, I fell asleep, wondering what message she was trying to send. Despite the obvious answer, I couldn't quite believe she intended Escort ulus (http://ulus.t2bro.net/) me to take it as the hint it so clearly seemed to be.The next few days darkened as a storm moved in and with it so too did my thoughts. I had long sensed Melissa possessed a need far more feral than her husband could fulfill and the unbridled lust portrayed in that book mocked my gentleman's restraint. I felt a burning hunger build within me as I finished it. By then I could barely breathe when I thought of seeing her again.Rain was falling in sheets the morning of that third day. A cold wind had carried in a storm that held a fury not often seen in Southern California. As the rain poured down, I knew there would be no casual meeting for our usual laundry day get together. I found myself pacing my small apartment like a caged animal, cursing the storm that dared rob me of the preciously short time that remained in my friendship with Melissa.It was in that state of mind that I heard the soft knock on my door. I don't remember running for it but I am sure I must have. I do remember seeing Melissa standing on my porch, dripping wet with the dew of rain running down her face. Quickly, I invited her in, and as the door closed, we stood inches apart and yet could find no words to say."Melissa," I began, but the fevered look on her sculptured face caused my throat to clench and dry. She gazed into my eyes with a terrified wonder as if she were waiting for something both dreadful and sublime. Somehow, in that wordless dialogue, we both knew what neither of us could ever say.Then, with an almost fearful breathlessness, she asked, "Did you read it?""Yes," I said and my hand rose to her cheek.She nuzzled into it with a pained smile and as I struggled between my masculine need and my gentleman's restraint, Melissa whispered, "Please, don't ask. Don't make me choose. Don't give me the chance to say no."I'll always wonder if lightning chose that moment to strike, and if there be poetry in a storm it most certainly would have. In that flash, I moved toward her, pressing her against the wall and crushing my lips against hers.She may have resisted for a moment. I remember the dull and weak impacts of her fists on my chest as our bodies came together. Tightly, she grasped the cotton of my shirt, pressing her balled up hands against me as if to push me away but even then her lips parted, accepting my kiss in what could only be described as an agonizing surrender.The powerfully sweet aroma of her perfume and the lingering taste of the cinnamon on her lips rushed through my senses, marking them with a beautiful and indelible memory. It was a memory that would become an ache of desire I would be cursed to forever crave. When my tongue glossed across her bottom lip, a breathless mewl passed from her lithe body that was filled with both a longing for my touch and a regret for the violation of her vows.I became overwhelmed with a torrid passion for her that had been suppressed for far too long. I knew how hard it must have been for her to come to me that morning. She was afraid, of that I was well aware. Afraid of what I might do, and more frightened by her need for me to do it. We shared a forbidden and overriding desire that had been building for months. For too long we had been standing on the edge of a dangerous fire and once ignited, it burned with a heat that neither of us wanted to resist.In a moment of aroused aggression, I grasped Melissa's wrist and pinned her arms against the wall. My body pressed against hers and my mouth descended to her throat, sucking and biting at her tender and supple skin. Her breath became ragged and she wriggled against me, not quite fighting but still not totally accepting my intimate presence.Memories of our past conversation rushed through my mind and images from the last book we shared flashed before me. She had, through those pseudo-innocent ways, told me of her hidden desire to be taken and now we both knew that taken she would be.Our bodies became tangled in a frantic rush to shed the layered clothing that still kept us apart. Her coat, my shirt, her skirt, my pants, they all soon lay scattered around us. I remember flashes of that moment and as each piece of her clothing fell away, more of her beautiful body became exposed to my touch.She stood there before me, with only her black lacy bra and gossamer-like panties covering her modesty. Dark hair, mussed by my arousal, cascaded wildly over her shoulders and her dark eyes gleamed like embers in the night. Shyly, in that pause, her arms crossed over her perfectly formed breasts and she met my gaze with a look of timid surrender as she waited for whatever might come next."Melissa, you are so beautiful." My sanity had suddenly returned and I began to caress her face but she shook her head."David, don't!" Her voice quivered and her eyes were wide with obvious anxiety but she made no effort to break my grip or even avoid my touch. My mind was awhirl with conflicting emotions. Arousal and lust flared and battled in my belly with reasoned restraint and I didn't know if I should kiss her or scream in frustration. I hesitated, trying to keep myself from doing something we would both regret when she swallowed hard and spoke again."Please, David, don't be sweet. Don't be gentle with me." It must have been impossibly difficult for her to speak those words. Her voice was barely above a whisper and at that moment she refused to meet my gaze. "I need you... I need you to be a man. Don't ask me to give in to you. Please, I need you to take it. I need you to take me."My skin tingled and grew hot as her words sank in and I don't think I'd ever felt such a powerful sexual tension as I did in that single moment. My heart raced and my breath almost refused to come. I had always been a gentle lover and I wasn't at all used to being sexually dominant, but while my mind struggled with indecision, my body must have given every sign that it knew what she wanted.As my fingers slowly traced their way down her cheek, Melissa stood frozen against the wall. When my touch moved over her neck, she trembled visibly and her head arched back, exposing herself to me in the most vulnerable of ways. Sensing her desire, my hand closed, gripping her throat just tightly enough to allow her to feel my true strength.The feeling of power this gave me yenimahalle escort (http://yenimahalle.t2bro.net/) was incredible and my cock lengthened with arousal as I watched her fight to control her own fear. I squeezed her throat tightly enough to cause her breath to become labored and her face reddened with the strain. I felt that I owned her at that moment and while I'm totally certain I would never have allowed her harm, I really don't know what I'd have done next had she not chosen that moment to grasp my cock.But grasp it she did, using both of her delicate hands. She drew my length out of my boxers and began stroking me with a frenzied urgency. Her eyes closed to slits but still bored into mine as she tugged hard on my length. It was if she was begging me to relent, to release her and allow her to please me. I loosened my grip, rewarding her surrender and then brought my mouth so close to hers I could taste her breath.Our lips touched and then we were kissing with a passion that made my whole body burn with carnal need. Her lips were wet and moist and her smallish tongue felt soft and warm as it danced against my own. I bit and sucked on her lower lip until her ragged stroking of my cock turned into a squeezing pressure that matched my tightening hold on her neck.My left hand remained on her throat as we parted and I could feel the throbbing heat of her blood as it pulsed under my grip. I could even feel her muscles tightening involuntarily under my hand as she nervously swallowed her excitement.Melissa squeezed and slowly pulled on my cock as I stepped closer. For a moment we stood just inches apart as I held her in my gaze. My right hand came to rest on her hip and I leaned close, whispering in her ear. "Do you want me to make love to you?"Melissa shook her head slightly. "N-no." Her voice was quiet and strained as it struggled past my grip on her throat."No?" I said, still whispering in her ear. "But you came here wearing this?" I began toying with the hem of her panties with my other hand, barely slipping my fingers under the thin fabric.Melissa trembled hard and shifted on her feet. I could hear her breath coming from deep within her chest when she said "Yes.""You wanted me to see you in it?""Yes.""I am going to fuck you, you know that, don't you?" It wasn't a question and I slipped my hand deeper into her panties as I said it until I was running my finger over her slit. God, she was wet and her sex felt like it was swollen and puffy with arousal. When my finger dipped into her, Melissa's hands rose to my chest."Yes," she said finally. Then she parted her thighs, allowing me to sink my finger deep into her. The sudden penetration of her body caused her to whimper nervously and when I drew her moisture up and dragged my coated finger over her clit, she jerked and quivered on my hand.Her eyes were wild with hunger for me and fear for what she desired me to do. My body towered over her and pressed her to the wall as I began rubbing quick circles around her clit. Soon, she was leaning against me and her arms held mine as I maintained my grip on her neck.With one hand between her thighs and the other keeping her pressed to the wall, Melissa was caught in between the pressure of restraint and the plunging precipice of orgasm. She rolled her hips, bearing down on my fingers and her body became tense as the tempo of my intimate caress increased.I'd never seen or done anything like this. The speed her body responded to my touch amazed me and soon her belly started to flex and her nails dug into my arm. Then Melissa's eyes rolled back and she trembled hard! A whining moan escaped her lips despite my hold on her throat and there, against my wall, with my choking grip on her neck, Melissa's orgasm crashed over her.When I finally released my hold on her, Melissa threw her arms around my shoulders and gasping for breath, slowly sank to her knees before me. Her eyes briefly met mine and then her gaze fell until it became fixated on my rampant erection. Wordlessly, she grasped my cock again and I could only rest my hands on the wall and lean over her as she took my turgid length into her mouth.Melissa began sucking my throbbing cock with raw abandon, feasting on it with an animalistic passion that made my head swim. Her fist led her mouth up and down my length, sucking and pulling on my shaft with an intensity that I would not long be able to resist.The sensation of her warm and wet skin sliding over my glans had me growling with feral pleasure. Where just moments before I was master of her fate, she now had me trembling and so weak in the knees that simply standing over her was becoming impossibly difficult."Oh fuck, Melissa. That feels so good!" I whispered, and she gazed up at me, pulling off my cock long enough to smile breathlessly."Mmm, David, I love how you taste." Then she fisted my shaft and stroked me hard. "Your dick is so beautiful. It's just perfect for sucking..."Melissa's face glowed with excitement as she pulled my boxers off and gently kissed my balls. The sudden hot moisture of her lips caressed me in their delicate embrace until I was quivering with arousal."Ahh, easy! Oh shit, that feels so good! You're gonna make me cum if you keep that up!" I was gasping with arousal and shuddered with a husky groan. The erotic image of Melissa quickly working her mouth up and down my cock burned into my mind and I marveled at how beautifully sexy she was. Her petite body swayed back and forth with erotic grace and her supple back arched enticingly each time she moved forward.More than anything though, the sight of her thick, dark hair flowing over her shoulders and trailing over her olive skin aroused me almost beyond the mere physical sensation of her touch. Long, dark hair had always been something I found beautiful and the sight of her teased locks trailing over her exposed body struck me in a way that approached being a fetish.Drops of her saliva began dripping down, glistening on the rounded mounds of her breasts and trickling down into the tight valley created by the confining embrace of her bra."Take your bra off," I commanded urgently and pushed her away from my cock before I lost all control. Melissa was gasping for breath and sucked the saliva off her dark lips as I pulled my moistened shaft away. Her eyes gazed obediently at me and she reached behind her back to release the binding hooks that kept her bra secured tightly over her breasts. Slipping it off her body, she sat back on her haunches and seductively massaged her boobs for me.I slowly stroked my cock as I watched her kneed her firm mounds with both hands. "Pinch them, Melissa. Make them nice and hard for me." I whispered.